I continue to be amazed by my friends. Here are some:
G is quiet, brilliant, young, and playful, with many of the mannerisms of a kitten; he wears bright colors well, makes faces, cuts my hair, points out the thing in the reading you should have noticed hours ago, and cultivates a sardonic streak. He says he can't dance, but everywhere he does. Except at dances, I guess.
J is like a cross between a 40s film star and a punk rock antihero, possibly the coolest and certainly the most literary person I know. She is strong and funny and perfect, mistress of the gourmet picnic and the bon mot. We have sisterhood in our over-aged escape from minimum wage life.
Y takes contagious delight in the intellectual world and irresistible joy from argumentative play, with a particularly agile and demanding brain. He's unfailingly kind to humans at hand but equally ruthless to theoretical ones, a sympathetic but unruffled shoulder to cry on, and the best lab partner I've ever had.
They are all gentle, considerate, generous, independent, and reliable. I love them fiercely, and try hard not to breathe or wake up.
After working hard and re-starting five times, I turned in a rough draft for my freshman essay; it was OK, quite good for a first draft, and for a completed essay, OK. I haven't yet given an oral defense, which will probably happen next week.
My lab tutor, H, is also amazing. She's supportive of whatever weird experiments Y and I can design, gave me brilliant advice regarding my freshman paper, and has magical Aristotle superpowers. She tells me not to consider any grad school that would care if I've published as an undergrad, but also to go ahead and start practicing for the GRE. She tells me that she often sees people who work outside of classics as intellectually lonely--you work in philosophy and you're specialized, the person across the hall hasn't even read the same foundational works.
SJC Social Justice Corps is up and running, though I don't expect any large actions till next year. Transportation to DC would be really nice.
I'm getting a more cohesive philosophy for dealing with physical objects; this may be another blog post soon, I've written some about it. My room is gorgeous (without having bought anything new for it) and my filing is done.
My three favorite misogynists, presently, are Simone de Beauvoir, Euripides, and Aristotle.
I have learned, when I hurt, to wait it out. Taking care of yourself is a hard but useful thing to learn.