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Distraught at finding that, even with seniorhood achieved, spring break only lasts a week plus change, I put off blogging 'til now despite a few events worthy of some description.
Many acquaintances of mine headed beachward during break. I couldn't go because of a family trip to my grandmother's for her birthday (even without that, the chances that I would've been able to go were miniscule, as the trip was without adults), but as it happened the dual destinations were divided by only a few miles. These circumstances could have been the milk, flour and eggs of a loathsome confection, baked in the cruel heat of despair and frosted with devastating irony. Erica's judicious use of cell phones obviated that particular cake, though I ate from several tastier ones that same weekend. The ocean granted me a single frigid baptism and hurled my numb limbs back against the welcoming grit of the shore. I was only able to join my friends on the last day of their stay, so the group ambience was decidedly muted. And I've given up trying to understand why people would go to the beach -- all the way down to the water's edge -- without swimsuits. A worthwhile visit regardless.
Immediately before the trip, I had an interview (my first ever!) for a job at a new Harris-Teeter. I thought I did fine but don't yet know if my interviewer agreed.
As for the ever passing moment (MxPx): the academic year has collapsed on Death's threshold, at least if my own studiousness is any indicator; a warmer sun shares sky-days with chilly rain; the tips of the backyard forest are studded with red-brown buds; I remain as confused and conflicted as ever about my own dreams, desires, and prospects, but happy enough and with sleep as my only real lacking.
posted on Thursday, March 31, 2005
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Today, poking through the heaps of old books in my closet, I came across such yesteryear favorites as Tom Swift and His Triphibian Atomicar. For those that have never heard of the series (The New Adventures of Tom Swift Jr.), think The Hardy Boys with a technophilic twist. Gadget sci-fi, perhaps, but still superior to half the trash that's published in Analog.
posted on Thursday, March 24, 2005
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My recent absence from this blog is not due to any special lack of happenings. As usual, I've wallowed in a muddle of various degrees of longing, equivocation, boredom, jealousy and loathing more or less continually throughout the last few weeks. There's also been no lack of external stimulus -- snowboarding, movies, out-hanging, school and the Gettysburg trip, Soldat, etc. -- which would once, in this blog's plump years of infancy, have been enough to release torrents teeming with pointless detail and odd grammar. Now, though, I can't find many new thoughts or words. Much as I like to consider my inner life a rich, if not quite healthy one, the raw material of my thoughts comes from without. I am a thin-skinned frog whose pond has grown stagnant, but I know that the river of time will bring fresh waters. And now I hate myself for having written the preceding sentence.
posted on Sunday, March 20, 2005
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