February 22, 2008 After weeks of waiting around for inter-library loan articles, books, and micro filmstrips I've finally begun the epic narration of my senior thesis. If you rip your eyes away from this engaging post and take a peek at my stated concentration, you'll see that I have focused my Hamilton career on the literary arts. Whether my writing has led you to this assumption or it comes as a surprise I couldn't say, but it is the truth.
In the Fall, I was delivered a life-changing ultimatum: write a thesis or graduate without honors. As you know by now, I chose to embark on the thesis quest and fulfill my destiny as a top-notch English major!
Then I formulated a topic. Let's see... I love to party so... F. Scott Fitzgerald should do nicely!
I decided to steer clear of West Egg this semester, too much chaos. Instead, I spend my days downing his vast and varying array of short stories. I chase these with their contemporary critical responses and I'm well on my way to the dizzy intoxication of overloaded undergraduate research.
Last night I finished my first 6 pages of writing and then stumbled home and collapsed into bed. As exhausted as I am, I can't deny my lingering excitement to complete an extensive analytic work of literature.
What can I say? This thesis has drawn me like a moth to the flame...