few fascinating things have happened to me of late. i’ve written (i COUNTED) easily over 50 pages this finals period — that left precious little time for the fascinating. i’ve still managed to enjoy myself. the advanced poetry reading last night made me nostalgic. not anticipatory, even tho i’m going to be in the workshop next semester. who understands these things. my group of people won’t be as pleasant, it doesn’t seem, but hopefully it’ll still be interesting.
mostly i’ve been nostalgic in general. this was a great semester, possibly my favorite. at the very least it ties with freshman spring. which is better, falling in love or being securely nestled in it (1 yr, 10 months, as of today)?
enough schmaltz. (isn’t yiddish a great language. technically schmaltz = chicken fat. the perfect image.) (why do i never get tired of parentheses?) i guess i have stuff to look forward to too; i’m just not as skilled or practiced in that. i’m taking tennis again next semester, and five credits, and i’m directing — officially! — the mainstage production of next semester: oscar wilde’s an ideal husband. more immediately accessible, i’m showing harold and maude this evening in my room. come, you’re welcome: watch one of the greatest romantic films of all time and help me finish off the kahlua.
when i get home my dad’s taking me to florida for a few days. i’ll attend the family gatherings, nod and smile, and whenever i get a free moment i will conk out under the nearest palm tree. when you next see me, i’ll be brown as a pretzel and twice as salty.