So for my Early Modern English class, one of our final assignments was memorizing 20 lines from Macbeth and performing (well, reciting) these lines in the original pronunciation. Click here if you want to hear what that sounds like.
I definitely should have been working on this assignment all semester long in order to be really successful at it. But I didn't. I had read through them a few times but not studied them carefully. Instead, I got up really early this morning and started reading the lines to myself over and over. I did this right up until I came into my classroom for the presentation, and by then my brain felt just a little bit fried.
I sat next to my friends Alisha and Aethlflad and told them my woeful tale of ill preparation. By the way, I should mention that a lot of the girls in my EME class have really cool names. Besides Aethlflad (whose name is Old English and means "noble beauty") there is another girl name Aesalina, which is Icelandic for "heavenly woman." Cool huh? Also, a disproportionate number of girls in this class have names beginning with the letter A. I notice things like that. Anyway, Alisha is a very kind girl, and she also hates cinnamon bears. For whatever reason, her boyfriend gave her a giant bag of cinnamon bears today (although it being Easter, they were in fact Easter bunnies) and she didn't know what to do with them. So, seeing my emotional state, and being the sweet girl she is, she offered some to me.
Cinnamon bears/bunnies are actually my favorite. My true favorite is technically chocolate-covered cinnamon creatures (generally bears) but beggars who have been muttering to themselves in what sounds like a bad Scottish accent for four hours certainly cannot be choosers. Am I right? I ate some of the bunnies and they were delicious.
After the professor walked in and was milling around doing class business, I looked on my desk and saw a bunny with its ears bitten off sitting on my desk. It looked decapitated and gross. it also looked like the kind of thing Aethlflad would do since she is kind of a trickster. So I said to her:
Me: Who put this here? Aethlflad! You jerk!
A: No, I didn't! I was just sitting here! I didn't take any cinnamon bears!
Me: Whatever dude.
And I picked up the half-bunny and put it on her desk. I think she threw it away after that. I can't remember. So then a bunch of people performed their lines, and then I performed my lines, and sat down again. When I did Aethlflad turned to me and Alisha and said:
Aeth: So seriously, who put that bunny on Elisa's desk?
Alish: (laughs and points at me) She did. She was just messing around.
Aeth: (laughs) Seriously? That was awesome Elisa. You totally had me.
Here is the scary part: I HAD NO IDEA WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT. I had no memory of biting a cinnamon bunny in half and putting it on my desk. Why would anyone do that? What a gross thing to do! But because Alisha is very sweet, and also not wiley enough to come up with a scheme like that off the cuff, I am convinced she was telling the truth. I bit a cinnamon bunny in half, set it on my desk, then wrongly accused my friend of putting it there, all because my brain was so damaged by Early Modern English.
The moral of the story is: I performed my lines, and I totally sucked. Serves me, right, though. Really.