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February 2001
March 2001 April 2001 September 2001 October 2001 November 2001 December 2001 January 2002 February 2002 March 2002 April 2002 May 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 September 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 January 2003 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 Now contact:
syndicate me:
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Wednesday, July 20, 2005 - July, July
This is the story of... I remarked to Emma way back in Argentina that whenever the singer of the Decemberists says "this is the story of...", he never actually tells you the story that he says he's going to tell you. Just an observation. I'm back from Argentina now, arrived two weeks ago. I've been mostly unpacking and working, back with Oz at URS. We've had so much time on our hands, because things aren't breaking down. Nobody needs us. It's such a weird feeling. I'm a little melancholy about being back; I've been here for so long, for only one or two months at a time. I feel like I've spent my summers locked in the office. I can't do this for work. This gives more support to my "become a paleontologist and write a grant to go digging down in Mendoza again" plan for life after school. Yesterday I figured out that even after transferring, I can probably still graduate on time, or at the most one semester late. I'm not sure if I could've even done that at CP. Which means, I'll have to figure out a real plan for after I graduate. I've been waiting for something to really grab me, to hit me over the head and scream "wow that's wacky!" like Andy Dick in Family Guy, and inspire me to devote my next few years to something, but nothing has yet. Was that unrealistic? I don't think so... It just didn't happen... This month, this summer... July. Picnicking on the Northwestern lawn... I can't start my bonsai seeds yet because we're going out of town in August for Alyssa's wedding... I could plan next year's garden... Karate? Music?
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