April hath put a spirit of youth in Rebecca.
Every spring my college campus becomes infested with an army of caterpillars, and this spring they’re worse than I’ve ever seen them in my three years here! They’re everywhere!
Lesson Learned: Scissors can be extremely dangerous! Point In Case: I was cutting the tag off a new pair of jeans, and I accidentally cut my left thumb. It was a small cut, but because it was deep and right along my nail, it bled profusely for over an hour. I squeezed it in my right fist until my hand got a cramp, then I tried to apply pressure by wrapping it up tightly in bandages. But no matter how many layers of bandages I wrapped around it, the blood soaked through all of them, then dried and hardened, making the bandages extremely uncomfortable, so I had to change them often. The cut didn’t clot for two days, and twice I nearly passed out from the sight of so much blood.
Today I realized that I don’t think I’ve ever heard my mother laugh. Ever. That is the most disturbing realization I’ve ever made. Ever.
List: Works of art I recognized in V’s collection in the movie V for Vendetta: 1) The Cycladic icons of Ancient Greek, studied in my Art History class; 2) "The Lady of Shalott," painting by John William Waterhouse, studied in my British Literature class when we read "The Lady of Shalott" poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson; 3) "Puberty," painting by Edvard Munch, studied in my American Literature class when we read Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick.
Ironic Instance of April: I stopped taking my sleeping pills and discovered that I sleep better without them.
Music of the Month: "Always on Your Side," by Sheryl Crow with Sting; "Again and Again," by Jewel; "Not Ready to Make Nice," by The Dixie Chicks.
Shakespeare Quote of the Month: "April hath put a spirit of youth in everything." This line was quoted by me to family friend Bill C. on Easter Sunday: We somehow got on the subject of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," which we both love, but Bill said that he does not normally like TS Eliot because he wrote a poem blasting April for being a month of Spring and rebirth (he must mean "The Burial of the Dead"). In response, I quoted this line by Shakespeare, which Bill had never heard before.