Tuesday, March 29, 2005

...tu peux rien faire en tant qu'oiseux...

And so, the semester ends. Nearly, anyway. Officially there is one more week to go, but officially never really did it for me. The final French examination in the labo, took the form of a one-on-one interview with the T.A. - et donc, bien sur que j'avais l'air nerveuse.

Someone didn't get the memo that says "Hey! It's still March!" because while I'm hiding in the library, the day outside is 15 degrees and a sunny, spring-cool blue.

The Pre-Law Society sent out my leetle blurb about Power in Diversity, and we are very nearly good to go. Hurrah! 6 days from the event, 4 days from The Bloc Party (I will use all feminine wiles, monetary bribery and/or sexual favours to get in), 3 days from Erin's wedding shower, and 2 days from the opening that I will not be attending because I am not feeling so charitably inclined. Are we clear?

Working on summer scheduling and plans - thinking about travel arrangements. Fingers crossed that they work out, maybe baby because I want to

drive through deserts, and
be in four places at once;
drop in on an SLC punk, and
make Los Angeles bounce

all while reading Harry Potter to a half-American dancing king. Don't you wish you could come?

Fingers crossed that I get Americana in May, et puis la vie francaise vers le fin de juillet quand je me trouve a Perpignan. Just me and my mums, and a French coastal town with a final couple days in Paris, before Charles de Gaulle finally sends me on my way. Three weeks, three weeks, three weeks of Frenchiness.

Last night we talked about the most beautiful boy on campus, oh the snakey charmy slimey boy that he is (cheated on his girlfriend *twice!* last year). We brought out the picture, and there he was in all his Ralph Lauren sweaters and brown leather jacket beauty. "Is he really the most beautiful guy on campus" someone asked. "Ooooh yeah" pipes in Janet, eavesdropping from her room and now jumping into the foray. Well that same beauty is in the same library as me, as we speak. What are the odds, I ask you?