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15 VII 2003 - 00:44 - brevis71: gratias vobis ago

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Oops. I spent Bastille Day in class. Actually, that's pretty much how I'm spending every day -- either in class or thinking about how I should be doing material that I need for class the next day (or, if I'm lucky and it's the weekend, for Monday) -- so it's not as if I missed anything big by not going out. Also, I don't know where the alley celebration is here (you see, back home, there is an alley with about five French restaurants, and they put on a Bastille Day shindig every year). So.

It's good to see you're back, although of course from your point of view it's I who have been absent longest and most recently. But after that long while in May -- I enjoy SimCity 3000 too, although I have yet to figure out how to get a city profitable quickly (my current method involves three-hundred-year waiting periods as I slowly eat up debt), so your secret is safe with me. And your new car looks pretty darn sweet. It's big! And blue! (ObviousMan, please step away from the computer.)

I'm feeling marginally better -- yes, it's past midnight, and I don't have my homework done, but I just took a nap that was way longer than I intended and I feel good. It's not as if I'll be able to get back to sleep for the next hour so I might as well type something up while I'm at it. I toy with the idea that I somehow offended G. with a clunky email I sent him the other day -- must see about sending him another, different email -- but. The weather has been relatively nice -- I've been able to walk the block from my subway stop to school without feeling as if I'm about to collapse, although I suspect my parents, fresh arrived from San Francisco for a visit, do not agree. After high 80s-low 90s weeks, though, all sorts of crazy things start to seem tolerable. No doubt I will be pleasantly shocked upon my return home.

As for the feelings of the previous entries -- they're back where they belong (that is, shoved deep into a dark corner of my brain, where they can do nice things, like fester), at least for the next week or so. I actually do have better things to worry about, like Greek verbs that all look the same and the very high probability that they will show up on my test on Friday. I doubt I'm doing much limit-prodding -- currently I feel like a peculiar brand of incompetent who will never be even remotely well-read -- but instead of sinking mutely into despair, I've resolved to try to do something about that. As soon as I'm not overwhelmed with Greek verbs.

For you: thank you, again, for being there -- although I'll probably say this differently and perhaps even better in an email to follow when I can breathe again. On the one hand, I know that part of this is more or less normal developmentally for teenagers (or at lesat, I think I know: so pop psychology as set forth by, among others, my high school, has told me). And I know that that means that with time and experience, I'll be able to start feeling more balanced, that changes in situation and chemistry will make necessary shifts more likely to occur, and I won't go mad by the time I'm twenty. On the other hand, I feel so stupid, sitting here idly -- I want to do something that will make me feel better, and I just don't know how. Being around settled people sort of aggravates the confusion, too...

but all of this is more or less unimportant now. Just -- thanks for the support, and I hope for your sakes that this adolescence stuff passes quickly, because reading over what I wrote -- what was I on? (Left up, of course, in the interest of honesty, or perhaps to shame myself into better behavior. I haven't quite decided.)

I think the program lost another person today, bringing the grand total of people lost to fourteen and making the total number of students... either twenty-six or twenty-four, I don't remember which. But we'll find out tomorrow if the absence was intended or a fluke. This is the end time: one more unit, one and a half days of review, and then the Reckoning. At least for grammar -- and then we start readings. Plato, Euripedes, Homer -- I can't wait.

tu ne quaesieris scire nefas quem mihi quem tibi
finem di dederint leuconoe nec babylonios
temptaris numeros ut melius quicquid erit pati...

Horace, Carmina I.11

(Do not ask -- it is unspeakable to know -- what end the gods have given to me, to you, Leuconoe, and do not test out Babylonian numerology. Better by far to endure whatever will be...)

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