I'm keeping myself up in order to catch my obnoxiously early train. I haven't had a real post for a while, I know. As always I fail and promise to post one soon, but something always happens.
As usual, I'm trying to situation my life within the context of some functional canon and failing. Registration for next semester is coming up . . . bahh. I'm desperately hoping that one day Act I will end and I'll get to Act II, but sometimes I think that will never happen. (Tom Stoppard) I freak out with an attack of "I'm never going to amount to anything more than a cat lady with a poorly managed blog," but then I watch Shakespeare in Love and think that just maybe I'll be able to contribute something worthwhile to the magical world of English literature. I certainly don't equate myself with Judith Shakespeare by any means, and I'm fully aware that I will never touch studs like Emerson and Whitman. But maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to produce something that does not only get printed and bound. If I'm super lucky I might even be able to provide some guidance to another young soul or two.
All I know is that nothing is for sure. Tesco never disappoints me. My iTunes genius is, in fact, genius. And it's finally really actually spring (even though it's still raining in London and is supposed to rain in Paris the entire time I'm there).
Off to pack & hop on the Eurostar to jam to Rascal Flatts en Frace avec mon meillur ami Sarah Digby (excuse my terrible spelling) and try to remember all the French I've forgotten. Next time I attempt to share something, I'll be on the continent.
xoxo & cheers/au revoir,