What a sweet note, Andrew! I think the Welsh appreciate me. I certainly adore them (and, really, all the English students who make up the bulk of the people I've met). I seem to be the only girl who goes out to drink with my man-friends. Where are the girls!? Are they staying at home painting their toe-nails? For shame.

Amongst other things, I am really, I mean really enjoying my classes. How did this happen? After being a ridiculous boozehound for the past week, I feared I'd do nothing but sleep all day (to recover) and fail to make any of my classes. But now I know I won't miss them for the world - because at least two of the three are stunningly good. Then there's the Welsh class, which is just thoroughly delightful and fun (though exhausting - learning a language is tiring and can be repetitious and boring even.)

(Part of me, the snobby side, thinks that these stunningly smart lecturers are being wasted on these kids who just look blank as cows. After all (and this is where I sneer unpleasantly) I have no great academic mind, but I feel much more capable in the classroom than any of my fellow students seem. Oh, someone cuff me. In my lit class, people had some really good insights. And I'm smart, sure, but it's mostly sheer confidence. Kind of a front, really. But I did know what ascetics were, and remembered what hic iacet meant.)

Moving on, as I was saying, etc. I love, love my classes. They are intellectually stimulating. They are the right length. I'm free to read whatever the hell I'd like to read outside of them (except for the lit class, and I don't mind because the writing is interesting and fascinating and I enjoy it.) Oh, and I do read.

I am so, so happy. How did this happen? What a gamble it was! I am charmed, I tell you, fucking charmed.

Meanwhile, the whole business of a man-friend is rather clumsy and awkward sometimes, fun most of the time, and causes me to smile like a crazy woman as I wander the streets of this fair town. I like him an awful lot.

2003-02-04, hi!

before / after

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