I'm cold. I've never been this cold in all my life, not Amsterdam, not Washington, not anywhere. When I walk outside my face stings and my eyes burn, and my lips are so chapped that I've used up half a stick of chapstick since I have been back. I can't wait to go home where I can walk outside and not be in pain. They make fun of me, but they don't know how cold it is. My Canadian immigration seems less and less likely, unless Canada plans to colonize some nice island off the coast of Florida. Maybe I can marry a Canadian and get dual cititizenship and live the warm season in Canada and the winter in the South.
Do you want to know how superficial I am? I've been really worried about my Ally McBeal tapes. Isn't that silly. Ally McBeal was my only real passion in late middle school, early high school years. I don't think I ever missed an episode, until, of course, I missed the entire final season. So stupid to have an emotional attachment to a TV show, but I miss it. And I wish I had been more systematic in taping them. I think that I taped (or had taped) every single episode that ever was, and they are all scattered on a million different tapes, and now they are currently lost forever.
See, I can't even write about anything important. I've got to go write a paper.
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About Me
- Maura
- I'm a South Carolinian, transplanted to the Midwest where I'm in the processes of getting my Ph.D in history. Currently travelling through the British Commonwealth on the dime of a long dead American industrialist. I love to take pictures of beautiful things, make note of beautiful happenings, and occasionally talk about how much I miss my beautiful dog.
