Whoever Said...

...that watching grass grow is boring has obviously never tried to plant a new lawn. A couple times a day ZPJ and I are out there, crouched over the peat moss, searing for signs of life in our newly-seeded yard. A couple signs so far, but nothing too exciting. I predict that one morning soon we'll wake up and the lawn will have exploded. That's certainly what happened to the park. Less than a week ago I was moaning about how brown and dull everything still was, and now I live in a lush green, white and pink wonderland. I think that New York springs have the reputation for being so enchanting because we have to go through so much to get to them.

This weekend was full of presentations- three to be exact- and I started my week yesterday with less energy than I ended the last one, which isn't saying a whole lot. I have been feeling a little scattered, and I am quickly and dangerously approaching the point where I really really have to start working on my thesis in order to finish instead of just talking about. I'm not at that point yet, but it's now a matter of days, not weeks.

Will I ever be mature enough to not procrastinate to the point of crisis or will I always have that high-school sophomore living inside of me?

I know a secret about someone and it's a good secret but I'm not going to tell any of you what it is.

I am taking a three-day class this week at the local anarchist collective that is supposedly going to be led by THE Augusto Boal, but rumors have been circulating that his son will be there instead, as Augusto is quite old and frail these days. I guess I'll find out tomorrow. I am really excited about the class, but not excited enough that I have actually re-read all of his books as diligently as I told myself I would. I skimmed, though. And, to be fair, I've been a little busy for the last...decade...

To work!!!