Thursday morning?

Life is pretty much back to normal. School has loosened up a little, and I'm back to being just one and a half readings behind and not having started the book I was supposed to have read for yesterday. Well, I'm on page two, so that should count for something. Anyways, my friend came in on Friday, and then her friend who's staying in Germany right now decided to meet us here (and subsequently crash at my place, which was a little presumtuous of him to think he automatically could, but he turned out to be relatively nice, so it wasn't that bad). We didn't get to do everything I wanted, but that's ok, because it was her visit, and after we did the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre, she was ready to go. I didn't get any work done over the whole weekend, but I figured it was alright, considering how much work I'd done during the weeks before. And now this entry is turning into a yawn-fest, so I'll just keep moving on...

Some friends and I went to the Comedie-française on Monday night to see Le Mariage de Figaro, which was pretty damn good. The guy playing the count was the same guy who I saw play Cyrano a year and a half ago, and he was simply amazing. Figaro overdid it a bit, but the Countess was good. It was nice to get out, go to the theater and laugh a bit. We should all try it and get used to it, considering that writer's strike may fuck up your TV plans, and you may be forced to seek alternative diversions to books, conversation, and - gasp - the work you're supposed to be doing in the first place insteead of watching TV. It'll probably be a good thing for me, since then there really won't be anything for me to do on my computer to procrastinate, and I'll have to actually buckle down and do work. But trust me, I will be the first one to curl up in a little ball of cold sweat and shivers in withdrawal of my favorite shows. No more Office? Grey's? UGLY BETTY?! Please, I'm already starting to feel nauseous, let's not start thinking about it just yet.

My mom is coming in tomorrow, and we're going straight to Bruges for chocolate and lace. Hopefully I'll get some reading done on the train, because I have 500 pages of Zola that aren't going to read themselves.

I think I'll come back to this sometime next week when I haven't just woken up and don't know exactly what I'm writing. But at least I'm writing, right? I don't get much time to do anything except work or procrastination - and that does not include writing - so I guess it's alright if this is just rambling. It's warming up my fingers for the good stuff.

That sounded incredibly dirty, didn't it? Ah well. Occupational hazard.