damn the muse

I'm gone for 10 days. I've been ordered to eat tons of paella, which has me uneasy now that I found out what it is. Seafood and I don't mix even if it is mixed with rice.

I also have my mothers iPod, which is now mine. Dear god, I love it. I have now finished my conversion into glorified dorkiness. I took off yesterday, iPod in the basket, remote control attached to my jean shorts, and the easy to spot headphones sticking out from beneath my hair. The music was full blast, and I just took a stroll around my parent's neighborhood.

I'm an easy convert. A glorified cult member willing to sing the iPod's highest praises, but please someone get rid of iTunes. It did a number to my mp3 collection. I think I almost wept with frustration after what it did.

Of course packing wouldn't be complete without my trusty notebook full of essay outlines and mnemonics. Can't leave home without the bar. Oh no. The guilty conscience follows me around wherever I go. Who cares if these plans were made months ago and the tickets are nonrefundable. Not the evil Board of Law Examiners.

I'm still coming back with my future husband in tow. See ya on the 10th.