Gosh, do I love Damien Rice. He just doesn't get old.
The semester's almost over? Can't believe it. I tried really hard to drop a class Wednesday. Prof 1 convinced me that I should talk to Prof 2 before withdrawing from Prof 2's class. Then Prof 2 was too god-damned-reasonable, and I couldn't. Dammit. Why do people consistently insist on being reasonable when I'm being unreasonable? Really!
It's just not fair.
In other news, I get to take a break from reading/ writing about medieval mystics just long enough to hear Bill Clinton speak on campus tomorrow. That'll be interesting. I don't have any strong feelings about the guy one way or the other, but I've never been in earshot of a president before, former or otherwise. The last political speaker (to my knowledge) that came to campus got pied. Embarrassing, really. I somehow suspect the Secret Service will ensure my associates' good behavior.
Happy moment of the day: As I walked my slightly sloshed -- or as my friend, Beth, would say, "delighfully sociable"-- grandma out of Benihana, arm in arm, she turned to me and paused. "I feel fancy in my purple shoes," she said and chuckled. I love it when my grandma chuckles. She'd gone shoe shopping earlier that day. She was happy with her selection.
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