I had to drive to campus to pick up the only known VHS copy of
Maedchen in Uniform in my part of the world for a paper I have to write on psychoanalytic theory. The girl who handed it off to me is currently writing her doctoral dissertation on
Infinite Just, and her chair is the Eccentric Professor. So she's going insane. I called her infant daughter an "adorable baby boy", too, so... I think I helped. On the way home I heard the Christopher Cross song
Ride Like the Wind for the second time in two days. I swear when he sings, "And I've got such a long way to go / Till I make it to the border of Mexico," I have to fight the urge to throw some shit in the car and head south. (Yes, The Crossman always has that effect on me. Don't even get me started on
Sailing.)
Still no sign of the keys. I'm thinking it might be time to outfit the Singler. You know, bump it up in status with it's own keyring. I hate that I lost the other one. I got it in Nice years ago
when I was finishing my French minor in Paris. Yeeeaah! You know I'm a bad ass! (Actually, I sneak that phrase into every conversation I possibly can. The irony is that I never got the minor: I took all the classes, but was too lazy to fill out the paperwork.)
"Hey, how long do I have to chill on this beach before I have a minor in marine biology? Cause I'll lay here all day if I have to. My education is just that important to me."
