In Portland, I always ascribed this to the unshifting sheet of slate that is the Winter sky, and the fog that rises off the Willamette and the West Hills. It was the one time of the year I wished I didn't live in Portland.
Now, I know it's kind of just February; I'm tired of Winter. I want it to stick its hoary head back into the depths of the soil. Here in the Bronx, the sun comes out often enough to remind me that Spring is coming, but the wind-chill is bitter and if it weren't for the fact that my apartment is still verging on having its own equatorial climate, I would be miserable all the time.
 |
| Proof of the Chill: The Ice Storm |
 |
Courses this term are...more time consuming than those of last term. They are also infinitely more frustrating, but that probably means I'm learning things.
 |
| What I look like when I'm learning. Or rather, what I look like when I'm Latinizing. After taking this, I realized that I have photographs of me doing this very thing that will soon be 10 years old. I have not learned nearly enough to justify a decade of self-indulgent photography of my own "scholarship". |
Do not yet fret, dear reader. I may have more work than a single human can accomplish. I may have had to set aside the personal academic project I've been working on. I may spend most of my time either planning how much time I have to spend working, or actually working, or pretending to work at the writing center. Despite all this, I also have more opportunities for fun than I know what to do with.
This weekend I will, in an unprecedented show of social activity, be out in the City with friends every night, and out here in the Bronx on Monday.
And among the many exciting things on my horizon is the following:
 |
| There's gonna be a party when the wolf comes home. |
