(I may even buy some pants.)


I went to work, which is what I usually do on Friday mornings.  I often don’t do a lot of tutoring, so while I’m ready and able to help, I usually don’t have much demand until later in the morning.  I brought my laptop along, so I did some GRE practice exercises.  I did pretty well, and I decided that I really should try to get more practice into my diet, so to speak.  After work, it was off to my Romance Philology class, where we worked on ordered sound changes.  The exam is next week, and while I feel pretty good about the material, I made a sloppy mistake or two.  It is a shame that that exam is the third of three next week – after the Syntax midterm, I fear my brain will be tuckered out and I will neglect studying for my other exams. 

Then it was errand running of the France-related variety.  First, I dropped off my deposit and letter of acceptance at the Study Abroad Office.  Then, off to the glamorous main post office to drop off my passport application.  Being the Post Office, some waiting in line needed to happen.  I paid my 97 dollars.  A small rant – one needs to write two (2) separate checks – one to the Postmaster and one to the US Department of State.  Were I to pay by check card, I would have had to wait in yet another line, buy a money order, and bring it back to the counter.  Lord only knows what else I would have needed to do.  I find it hard to believe that in the 21st century, the act of paying for a passport would be so 19th century; or, for that matter, why it would take 8 – 10 weeks to get a passport.  I mean, I have already been issued one before.  With everything computerized, it would seem to me that this sort of information should be easily accessible.  I can only hope that they tell people 8 – 10 weeks to hedge their bets.  Somehow, I doubt it.

Annoying as the Post Office may be, I am not going to let it ruin my enthusiasm for spending two months in France.  Woo-hoo.

*This picture is of Emily the cat.  Late in 2005, Emily (who is, like me, from Wisconsin) got trapped in a shipping container and wound up in France.  Since she had a chip, they were able to identify her, and Air France flew her home.  It was a big human interest story at the time.  Sure, in this picture, Emily is flying home from France instead of to France, but we’ll let that slide.  I’m quite partial to tabbies.  Beloved Housecat is a tabby, too.