Warm Nights at the Library
I'm sitting here adding bibliographical details to some primary sources I'm working through -- British newspapers from 1851 detailing the opening of the Great Exhibition. It's a cool 70 outside, clear skies, with Feist's "1, 2, 3, 4" on heavy rotation in the background of my mind; it's been in my head since Saturday and doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. A mixture of witty lyrics and a whimsical music video will see to that.
Thesis work has more or less been my life recently, with more time clocked in a microfilm lab than I ever thought I would, and more books checked out of the collected libraries of Berkeley than I thought I was allowed to. Claudia, my delightful little Fujitsu, seems up to the task of hard travel, and dealing with my multitudes of demands. A solid social life is allowing me some sanity, whether watching Grey's Anatomy while drinking tea or going poncho shopping in the Mission and having lunch in Dolores Park. Despite some moments, I'm actually feeling quite good about things right now.
Writing a paper on London may be perhaps the best thing to happen in the course of getting over my London nostalgia. I've been thinking about it lately, in off moments, and little parts of my life there that aren't exactly appearing here. Silly, superficial things, like flat whites, snake bites, Pret. The perpetual presence of Girls Aloud in gay clubs. Mock The Week. Flashmobs at the Tate Modern and Victoria Station. I have a package to send the folks at Flat White; I should get that out sooner rather than later.
Old teenage hopes are alive at your door
Left you with nothing
But they want some more
Thesis work has more or less been my life recently, with more time clocked in a microfilm lab than I ever thought I would, and more books checked out of the collected libraries of Berkeley than I thought I was allowed to. Claudia, my delightful little Fujitsu, seems up to the task of hard travel, and dealing with my multitudes of demands. A solid social life is allowing me some sanity, whether watching Grey's Anatomy while drinking tea or going poncho shopping in the Mission and having lunch in Dolores Park. Despite some moments, I'm actually feeling quite good about things right now.
Writing a paper on London may be perhaps the best thing to happen in the course of getting over my London nostalgia. I've been thinking about it lately, in off moments, and little parts of my life there that aren't exactly appearing here. Silly, superficial things, like flat whites, snake bites, Pret. The perpetual presence of Girls Aloud in gay clubs. Mock The Week. Flashmobs at the Tate Modern and Victoria Station. I have a package to send the folks at Flat White; I should get that out sooner rather than later.
Old teenage hopes are alive at your door
Left you with nothing
But they want some more