in Blackader Lauterman, McGill's accomodating architecture library...

suffering through what seems a neverending Socratic dialogue.

ah the delights of university education!  the gentle whirs and clicks of great minds... the rustle of turned pages yellowing with wisdom and antiquity...  i remind myself that i am privileged to be here...  that i am happy and fulfilled to be reading the classics...  devouring poetry...  discovering Dante... revisiting Milton... learning new approaches to literature and philosophy... wrestling with Latin once again...  and yet...  to be here, engaging in the scholarship of the massive and looming literary canon is so pertifying and oppressive...  it renders one impotent...  with nothing new or fresh to say that hasn't already been said it seems.

studying is definitely rewarding and wonderful...  but isn't what one might call fun.

one fun thing i did...  went with a bunch of friends to an amusement park at midnight.  it was incredibly cold and all of us were falling over with fatigue... but the first rollercoaster made it all worthwhile.  it was more fun then my childhood experiences - running around in a garishly flashing fantasyland.  we finally left at dawn.  the sky was very beautiful - a deep blue that melted into violets and pinks along the horizon.  we were all exhausted but we couldn't stop talking about different neighbourhoods in the city - how the plateau is better than centre ville, how pathetically small Chinatown is, how the squigee kids at mont royal earned the most money...  i remember sitting in the car feeling incredibly weary but enormously happy to be home.