duck-shaped pain

I'm relaxing by doing Spanish homework. Spanish is easy. It makes sense. It sounds sort of silly when you pronounce it. I'm dealing with the unpleasantness of the class itself by doing two weeks of homework at a time. That way, I can completely glaze over when class is in session, and stare off into space. Since 70 percent of the class is spent listening to the people in the back rows complaining about how hard everything is, and the other 30 percent is spent watching la profesora root around in her bag for her lost pencil, I figure I'm not missing much, and am probably learning more Spanish this way.

There is something to get excited about, though: Evil Stupid Lady is being canned!

She doesn't know it yet, though.

When I got to work yesterday, there was a gathering of potential Evil Stupid Ladies-to-be sitting beside my desk. Since I had not been warned in advance, there were some moments of puzzlement on my part, but I soon figured out what was up. Yay!

Someday I knew my collection of vegetarian cookbooks would come in handy. This is because I've decided to do my term paper for my History of the US: 1960-2000 class on the sudden increase in vegetarianism in the late 1960s - 1970s. I have to analyze the cultural and historical reasons behind it, and what was particular about vegetarianism at that time, as opposed to now. Which I don't think will be that difficult.

Then: nut loaf.

Now: no nut loaf.

My bag showed up a few days ago, only a day and a half after I ordered it. Such service. And while it's bigger than I thought, I love love love love love it. It holds everything: books, a ton of CDs, my lunch, my jacket, the groceries I picked up on the way home, whatever. It makes me feel all swank, at least as swank as rugged nylon and webbing can be.

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