Vienna Teng makes me want to be a poet. Or play the piano, I'm not sure which. In any case, I want to create beautiful things again, if indeed I've ever created them in the first place. I want to be a goddess, who can touch dead things and make them Spring. But maybe that's not the point, beauty takes effort, after all.
Going to England next year if all goes according to plan, but I made the Study Abroad people angry with overdue paperwork and exchanged some rather tetchy e-mails with a lady who put the word not in quotation marks. But I can't fill it out right now because I ran the printer out of ink, for which I blame Prof. Steen and her weird insistence on
killing trees having us print out the articles she posts online to bring to class.
I did write a poem with French poetry magnets the other day or perhaps two weeks ago in class; rather nonsensical but you might enjoy it if you speak French (that is, I suppose, if you're Kendra or April):
une fille fébrile d'une royaume humide
a embrassé une genouille méchanique
et maintenant veut mon pauvre coeur
Maybe I'll use it in my next composition; I've got to write a fairy tale and I've already got the beginnings of a story.
Someday I promise I'll upload a userpic or three.