WELL, WELL, WELL.

It seems that we have a lot to talk about.

I know I said I'd post everyday, but I went to Ireland. I was working on a humongous post about it yesterday, but it's hard to recap. It's hard to tell it in a way that doesn't read like a grocery list. I don't think I'll write about it. I included pictures, though. I realize I must write everyday or else this, this exercise, this blogging and writing and telling of my story is for naught. It is an exercise which I enjoy, both entertaining and therapeutical.

Last night I saw Jonny for the first time in forever. We watched Sin City with his friend (Jill? Eileen? Liz? Fuck fuck fuck I should re-mem-ber) and drank in excess. I've got to stop doing that.

I'm here in the library and sitting across from a girl who's rolling her own cigarette, right here in the library. Is she serious? Am I on some hilarious hidden camera show and the live studio audience is just howling at me pretending that her behavior is normal? Is this normalcy? I guess it's too hard to roll it outside with the wind blowing and all but it seems outrageous enough. The tobacco looks disgusting, like old yellowed, green, and brown colored (coloured, for you crazy Brits) finger nails.

In other news, I've been seriously into LOST, seasons un and deux. Last night, I finished reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. It was rather good. It's a story about a family that deals with the tragedy of losing both parents and how they cope. It's amazingly told, and its author, Dave Eggers, is hilarious. It was a good read.

That's about it for now. I'll post tomorrow (THE PLAN IS TO POST EVERYDAY -- MUST STICK WITH THE PLAN!!!!).

The light of the sun has crept onto the shores of this godforsaken isle. It has been a long time since I've felt its reassuring warmth.

I know I didn't post yesterday. This may upset some of you, but I posted twice the day before. I think that counts for something.

It turns out I'm going to Dublin for reading week. Basically, we have a week off from February 13 to February 18, and that doesn't count as a spring break. Spring break would be the month from March 25 to April 24. Basically, learning is put on hold. I'm in a state of intellectual comatose. Back to Dublin, though, we've booked the flight and transportation to and from the airport but no place to lay our heads. I do not book in advance, I'll thank you very much. It is neither my style nor my perogative to book so well in advance.

In all seriousness, I'm bringing my sleeping bag so that I can find shelter under a park bench.

As very, very few (i.e. none) of you may know, my kitchen has been suffering a horrible rodent problem. I don't mean the usual furry mammalian creepy-crawlies that you may be thinking of, but someone has been PURLOINING FOOD. I blame this partially on my ginormous grocery shoppings but also on the fact that my flatmates must be starving. I'll give a short history of the thefts.

TWO WEEKS AGO: The last two (2) of my crumpets (they're like English muffins, leave me alone) were taken from my freezer. They were in an open container in the freezer and someone had the VILE INDECENCY to swipe my breakfast.

LESS THAN ONE DAY AGO: My one (1) package of five (5!) frozen cheese tortellini was missing. I frantically searched the entire freezer for my Italian cuisine. It turns out some clown moved it from one freezer to the other. I cannot let this stand. I know my pasta didn't suffer the same outrageous fate as the crumpets did, but it is no matter.

MY PLAN FOR RETALIATION includes the deliberate seasoning of something I will freeze or refrigerate. Marinate chicken in chili oil? Fill crumpets with salt? The possibilities are endless. The intentional sabotage of my food will help identify the thief of the pantry. It will be easy to see who ingested the arsenic by them gagging helpless on the cold linoleum.

I'm sorry if I upset you, dear reader. I'm not usually so malicious or gruesome. But, if you live by the stolen crumpet you die by the stolen crumpet. I know, I run a tight ship. It's who I am.

How can I breathe life into this helpless corpse of a blog? This blog is lying at the mercy of apathetic passersby, choking and near dead in the streets of ranting, raving, and self-publication. I have not posted in ages. I realize, dear reader, that blogging is a pleasure I have come to hate. There is a definite balance between posting and not posting, a seperation of sanity from schedule. I may not post every day, but when I do post they will be as stunning as they were last summer.

I'm enjoying London immensely. It's great although everyone has these weird accents. I regret to report that these strange talking foreigners have taken over the entire city.

Spring semester, and the living's easy. There are seven other roommates in my flat. We share a kitchen which has two stoves, two ovens, two freezers, and two refigerators. We all have our own rooms and bathrooms. We often cook together and me and this kid Jonny frequently make the best curry in the entire world. For those unfamiliar, I hear that Dayton has an all-you-can-eat Indian buffet for $.99. That sounds thrilling. As for me and my own, we will make our curry, thank you very much.

I'm going to stop writing now so that I'll be encouraged to tell you more later.

Goodbye, my loves.