I haven't posted in a while because 1) I was on post #108, which is a key number in LOST around which half the plot revolves, so I thought I should stick on it and see what happened (nothing), 2) I didn't mind having S.C. Moore stare me in the face as my most recent post, and 3) there has been nothing blog-appropriate to write recently. My book is sluggish at best and is sapping my energy in good and bad ways I think. My journal has seen a lot of action this week. It seems to be busiest when I am not.

Things:

I'm saying goodbye tonight to a handful of people that I never expect to see again. Our paths could easily cross, but it wouldn't be unusual if they didn't. I don't have much nostalgia left for this place; I've stayed a semester too long and everyone is worn down to the stubs of their being. I'm surprised at the one person who made me a little choked up, though. After a year-plus relationship of good, strong sarcasm and mutual schadenfreude, it took an unexpectedly sincere goodbye to show me what a good friend I'd made. With him I will keep in touch.

James Dean in East of Eden was pretty terrible. Go on, bring on the hate.

Regular, original Oreos are such a major disappointment now. Anything less than Triple Stuf requires removal of the top cookie at this point to get the ratio anywhere near palatable. Mint Stuf and Chocolate Stuf are treason.

The combination of table my dad made, lamp my mum found, and teapot my gran gifted is making the east side of the comfy purple couch one of my favorite places in San Francisco. Also, I like to see how long I can stand not turning on my space heater in the flat by pretending I'm in Bastogne. Related Note: Band of Brothers Is So Good. Even though I'm sure I can borrow it indefinitely from Ben, I think I might buy it myself, a rarity for me, because I love it so much. I am tempted to do an epically long Band of Brothers post, but I know there is absolutely no way to do justice to such a worthy showcase of such worthy subjects. If you are even a smidge interested WWII and are not too squeamish about the atrocities contained therein, please invest ten hours of your life in Band of Brothers. There.

My hair is now long enough to warm my ears again. Just in time for the year's first real cold snap, and it's about bloody time, because it's December 7.

Still no rain. SF disappoints on that front.

I hope there is some cake in my future, or some warm tea. I want to get a couple of little egg cups so I can have soft-boiled eggs and toast for breakfast. I guess I will need some bread too. Apparently egg cups are not a standard thing here? Fellow Americans, confirm or deny.

Sleepily sleepily churning on, missing deadline for the last time.