Lindsay, who just read the entirety of my archives and so is in the position to know these things, has informed me that i just have to write more often. If i write more often, she reasons, i will enjoy it more, and enjoying it will make it better.

This, historically, has meant that you (the reader) has to suffer through all kinds of crapola in the meantime. But, you didn’t have anything else to do, right?


“You’re on hiatus, huh?” It seemed like a funny question to ask me — of course i’m not on hiatus. When am i ever? I’ve only ever took one that i recall. One look at the date on my last post told me why i was being asked, though. Apparently just thinking about witty stuff doesn’t count for much in the blogging game .

As if it’s a consolation for missing out on daily updates from my decidedly droll life, i have somehow managed to notch my fourth consecutive quarter on the Dean’s List. To put that in more tangible terms for all of you literal thinkers out there, i am currently less than .03 away from graduating with honors. Not the dopey kind of honors you get from being in the “honors college.” Noooo. The kind of honors you get for being smart and doing well.

In an intriguing turn of events, i don’t remember a lot of being smart or doing well that happened over the course of this past quarter. Thinking about it is like trying to remember if i’ve blogged lately — i know that i got straight A’s, but i’m a little foggy on the when and the how of it. There was, of course, last week’s two days of hell as i built a Senior thesis paper from the relative nothingness of one interesting Scientific American article into a hulking five thousand word treatise on Globalization and Technology. I got an A in that class… despite not being a Senior and, oh, not even being enrolled in the major that i wrote a thesis for. Ha. And, people in the class talked about how the professor was the second coming of Vlad the Impaler, a veritable vampire of academia, sucking up lots and lots of work and leaving behind only the dried up dead husks of things he once regarded as students.


He seemed to like me, actually.

I could go on. Somehow i’ve gotten to this place, this place where i am successful and smart and yet i feel like some small part of me is living outside of it, wondering how someone could be so successful. And smart. And so goddamn charming.

Okay, so, maybe i made that part up….