o0o0o Jet-setter

So yesterday at about 7:45 am my mom calls and asks, "Want to go to Las Vegas for Christmas?" Alrighty then. My mother's manifestation of a mid-life crisis is travel. Sounds good. So I will be spending Christmas Eve and day in Las Vegas and the Paris hotel. And then of course real Paris for Spring Break, including two days in London via Chunnel. And a weekend in New York when it can be squeezed in. Bam.

Surprise!

And, oh yeah, Lit Mag is officially number one in the nation.

The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo... - From The Lovesong of Alfred J Prufrock by T.S. Elliot [if you haven't read the entire thing, search for it on Google and read it] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Can you ever really go home again?

Happy Birthday, Mattie!

A few pennies for a few thoughts

So there's a funny thing about respect, and that is that everyone has a different definition of it. Everyone sees things differently in respect to respect. Which makes it a difficult thing to respect.
If you know what I mean.
[I know I'm not funny, bug off.]

People toss around the word, from tongue to tongue, not unlike the phrase "I love you." It's used on a whim, passed on a breeze, unchallenged, unremarkable.
But the thing that gets to me is that respect truly is a remarkable thing. When someone does something so considerate, it touches you...when someone simply gives you space instead of stepping on your toes...when you realize that someone has respect for you from the little things they do...well, it's like being given the most marvelous gift.

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If it's true, what they say, about the faults you see in others being the things that you dislike about yourself, well, then I have a lot of work to do.

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It is so beautiful here after it rains; it really is magical. The world outside my window just sparkles, the air is incredibly clear, and everything smells like green. I'm being a total cheeseball, I know, but it's not something I can capture on my camera; it's not something I can really share with you without you being here.

Good job, god.
Two thumbs up.

Oh dear

So after a Sunday of losing any and all class that I ever had ever, today has been rather redeaming, and it's only 9 am. I gave my informative speech to excellent reviews (comment excerpts: "My hair used to be that long, I kind of miss it." "You're too cool for school.") Aaaaaaaand I walked home with my flutter and we laughed and it was fun. Yayyyyyy.

However, later today will bring a 10 page essay on pharmacists who refuse to give birth control, which will probably make me angry while I write it. And of course tomorrow I have to figure out how to go to two classes, have a meeting with my French teacher, go to my paper review for English, vote, and go to the gym. On the up side, I get to chill for another three weeks in speech class. Here we go.