SETTING: A BEAUTIFULLY LARGE, BUT UNCOMFORTABLY EMPTY AND UNFURNISHED FLAT IN GLASGOW’S WEST END. ONE SMALL COUCH AND COFFEE TABLE. LOTS OF FLOOR SPACE. HIGH CEILINGS. NATURAL LIGHT. OPEN LAPTOP. BOOKS AND PAPER EVERYWHERE.
NICE WEATHER OUTDOORS. STORMY TIMES INDOORS.
ANDREA, dishevelled and still in pyjamas at 5pm, is on her back, on the floor, limbs everywhere. She is surrounded by loose sheets of paper, open books, pens, etc. She stares (and talks) at the ceiling.
ANDREA: “Deconstruction is a tactic of decentering…” Ugh, wait, no… “the result of having a centre is that it marginalizes others, leaving us with what Derrida calls ‘binary opposites’…” Shit, what? Okay, okay…..okay, okay, okay. Um. Deconstruction is…I have no idea what I’m doing. What am I doing? How did I get myself here, right now, doing this? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Derrida. How did I get myself knee-deep in theory? I hate theory! Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay….okay. Um. “According to Derrida, all Western thought is based on the idea of a centre…” WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY, DERRIDA?! I have no idea what I’m doing. Fuck. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Um.
Where she’s at:
Andrea is nearing the end of her Master’s degree. It is summer and she is attempting to write her thesis. She has never taken a break from school, and she has not had a summer without classes since grade 8. She did a five-year Bachelor’s degree before getting to this point. Her thesis is due in less than two months.
SETTING: A SMALL CORNER GROCERY STORE IN GOTHENBURG SWEDEN. CHARMING, CLUTTERED, UNUSUALLY LARGE SELECTION OF CANDY AND CONFECTIONS.
ANDREA and her best friend MAGS are shopping for snacks. They both carry large shoulder bags and cameras. They both wear slightly wrinkled clothing, clearly pulled from small suitcases earlier that morning. ANDREA is wearing glasses, because the night before, she idiotically “missed” when she attempted to put one of her soft contact lenses into its overnight case, only to find it dried up and ruined in the morning. Oops.
ANDREA: Would you like some salted cashews? They’re salty.
MAGS: You don’t say.
ANDREA: Oh, haha!
MAGS: Wow, you can’t even infer what half of this stuff is.
ANDREA: I know.
They look around more. ANDREA picks up a bag of chocolate covered nuts.
ANDREA: These look pretty good. Paranöt. I wonder what kind of nut is in there…
MAGS: I think it’s some kind of nut.
ANDREA: That’s what I just said.
ANDREA: It’s some kind of nut.
ANDREA: I wonder what kind.
MAGS: Oh. Yeah, I wonder. Paranöt. Hmm.
Where they’re at:
It is approximately September 2nd, 2010. Andrea and Mags handed in their theses at the University of Glasgow on August 30, 2010 ONE DAY EARLY (yeah-huh!) so that they could travel to Sweden together for a relaxing holiday. They have spent all summer on their living room floors, trying to figure out theory and what they are trying to say. They are no longer able to have normal, intelligent, human conversation. In a couple days, they will ignore very clear, illustrated signs and get lost in a folk park in Stockholm.
SOMETIMES SCHOOL MAKES YOU DUMBER BEFORE (IF?) IT MAKES YOU SMARTER.
P.S. I have a Master’s degree and I still can’t figure out how to make my Mac Mail work.