Fighting the Current

The Unlucky Irish

And the like-mindedness strikes again. Apparently one of my best friends had been going around to everyone (but me) yesterday, saying: "Why do they call it the 'Luck o' the Irish?' The Irish aren't very lucky." I wrote something to that effect yesterday in this journal. We were chatting, and she heard someone say, "Luck of the Irish." She said what she had said yesterday.

I replied, "Yeah, I said something like that in my journal yesterday."

"Oh, did you quote me?"

"Quote you? Why would I have?"

"Didn't I say that to you?..."

"No..."

So she explained. And we sighed. I have to wonder how many times we do things like that without knowing. To quote a friend: "It's probably incalculable."

I have to go to the library. Apparently I have two books which are two weeks over-due... whoops... It's a shame I have a ton to do tonight. I would have loved to hang out at the library today. In a mood like that. I want to get out several books, and renew some that I have (which are also overdue, but only by a day). I'm a bibliophile, what can I say.

I could see doing a million projects about some Shakespeare play, or the collected works of some author, but doing three projects about Emma??? We have not even been taught about the time period surrounding the book. (One could argue we have not been taught all year, but that is another matter. We have not even touched on the time period.) I have enough trouble reading Austen to begin with. She's too wordy and round-about. And there are too many long strings of dialogue--by the end (sometimes even the middle) of them, I've lost track of who's speaking... sometimes I've even lost track of what they're talking about.

Retreat today. We didn't get as much time to explore this year. That was disappointing. The upshot was that it was student-planned, so no horrible movies.

"'Don't hold on to the past'
Well that's too much to ask" - Madonna, "This Used to be My Playground"

"I am one of those melodramatic fools--
Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it.
Sometimes I give myself the creeps.
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me.
It all keeps adding up;
I think I'm cracking up.
Am I just paranoid?
Or am I just dumb?" - good old fashioned Green Day, "Paranoid"

Random scab on my palm again. We keep joking that it's a very small stigmata.

Lots to do. Too much time killed.

They should have planned the retreat for a Friday. But I guess they get real groups in on Fridays.

"Stepped out of the line
Like a sheep runs from the herd
Marching out of time
To my own beat now
The only way I know

One light, one mind
Flashing in the dark..." - more Green Day, "Minority"

I have no desire to do any schoolwork tonight. Too much else to occupy myself with.

Spent enough time on pointless ramblings.