Dragon-Queen1818

I am alive. My muse left me crying alone for a long time. And sometimes she pops her head in, but she's gone pretty quickly again. The last two years have been a blur of depression and moving and depression and applications and moving and depression. I miss my muse, I miss my friends, I miss Colorado. But I am enjoying a linguistics muse, brand-new friends, and Tucson [which is very hot and I don't like that so much, but oh well]. ...And now I'm slogging through the first semester of required courses for a linguistics Ph.D. [Just imagine what I could have accomplished by now if I'd been operating at a hundred percent instead of somewhere

The academic year has come and gone, and suddenly I'm older than half the students enrolled in Redlands [or, more correctly, have been at Redlands longer than half of them]. I'll move in on first floor in ten-ish weeks because the almost complete lack of disregard for anyone's well-being outside their own has driven me off of third floor [yannow what, I shouldn't have to put up with stupid amounts of noise when I want to sleep, and my lack of sleep due to stupid amounts of noise affects my work, so STFU neighbors, I've had more than enough]. I'll be there for a semester before going off to Leiden for four months, the farthest from home I'll h

I come back on dA all of a sudden to find that I have seventy messages and forty-odd deviations. Christ on a cracker, that's a bit much, but it's what I get for spending several weeks just going back and forth between email and Bookface. I have a lovely boy who's on his way to being one of the most meaningful relationships ever [and there are so few parents who name their children Quincy these days]. I dropped the French novel class, and consequently... still spend most of my time holed up in my room. Huh. But the real key is that I've been musical [thanks, African drumming!] and have not only been reading but also writing more again, even i