I’m lying in bed right now.  I seem to do a lot of writing in bed.  I just ate three chocolates and finished off the kimchi stew I made earlier for dinner before going out to meet some Yelpers at Bar Chocolate in Soho.


I officially hate Easter, by the way.  After Monday, we had no fewer than six chocolate eggs and numerous other chocolate truffles and treats.  That is obscene.  We are only two people.  How can we accumulate that much chocolate on a day that we’re supposed to be reflecting on how some dude died a horrific death by Roman crucifixion.  I tell you what, no chocolate and fluffy bunnies were involved in that one.  Not that I usually care about such things.  But, you know, Jesus is always trying to get me down, man.


In this case, it’s by chocolate death.


But, yeah, so Bar Chocolate probably wasn’t the best social outing venue to choose after everyone in the UK has gorged themselves on chocolate over the Easter weekend, but, you know, hindsight.  I got some wine because I couldn’t face any more chocolate, and the Malbec was good, I guess.  


Linzi, Lizzie and Laura were there.  A small Yelp event, for sure.  But I’m quite liking all these Yelp events going on.  I’m starting to really enjoy and appreciate London a lot more now that I actually have a social life and some burgeoning relationships with people.  Nothing against my husband, of course.  It’s just that I miss having friends, and this last year has been a bit brutal when it comes to that sort of thing.  


My dad and my grandparents have tried calling me in the last couple days, but I’ve been in full-on paper-writing mode that I simply cannot stop in the middle of my day to have a 45 minute conversation with them.  If they are reading this – dad and Grandmommy and Bobba, I am sorry.  I will try to remember to call you back soon.


But, yeah.  One term paper down, one to go.  It occurs to me that I ended up doing A LOT of research for the paper I just finished, with over 20 bibliographic entries for it, and I didn’t do nearly as much research for the one I have left to write despite being more confident in my thesis statement for it when the writing process began.  I think I might have to hit the library tomorrow.  Lame.


I think I’ll eat some chocolate.


Damn Jesus.



I’m sick for the second time in a month.  It’s pretty unbelievably awesome.  In the completely un-awesome sort of way.

I had plans in my diary (date book) to go to a play with Faye and some other MA students.  I still plan to go, but I feel pretty awful.  Furthermore, I don’t really want to make everyone else sick and distract everyone with my persistent coughing filled with phlegmy goodness.

Since I’ve started my course, I haven’t been particularly social, since technically I’m part of a group of three and the medievalists apparently marginalize themselves (or are marginalized) within the English department.  I met Faye during the induction week and haven’t really seen much of her since.  I blame this solely on the fact that the medievalists have no opportunity to interact with others.

Although, I went to a dissertation workshop that included some early modern students.  (Or, more accurately, an early modernist dissertation workshop that included the three medievalists because some other period had to subsume us and early modern was the closest.)  That life-sapping two hours was enough to convince me that I don’t really like some MA students.  At all.  I won’t delve into it here, but suffice it to say it had something to do with an amateur grammar nazi sounding foolish, offering criticism when criticism was not called for and not even accurate.

Also, I hate undergraduates.  A lot.  Mostly the ones that stand around in the hallways after their lectures, blocking them completely and then looking at you as if you are invading their space as you push past them muttering obscenities under your breath, suppressing the impulse to push with a bit more aggressive force.  Every. Day.

Okay, so basically I haven’t made any friends because I’m incorrigible.  And there you have it.

Oh yeah, and I guess I should mention my wedding-planning weekend.  It went pretty well.  I’d say we got everything in order.  I like how laid-back our wedding is going to be.  Nevertheless, I’m finding it difficult talking to people about the wedding.  New people, that is.  When people find out that I’m getting married, they react in the usual manner.  “Oh, that’s so exciting!” “I bet you’re so excited!” et cetera.  I am excited, sure, but it’s just not that big of a deal.  When I say, “Yeah . . . I guess,” I get that weird look that’s difficult to describe.  That look that reads, “Why aren’t you speaking in a high-pitched voice whilst gushing about the details of the place cards you’re having custom made for $400?”  So when I say, “We’re getting married partly because of political reasons,” I get a look that reads, “. . . ?”  So when I say, “I don’t feel that getting married legitimizes my relationship in any way, so, at the end of the day, it’s just not that big of a deal,” I get a look that makes me feel like a serial puppy killer.

Wow, I really do sound incorrigible.