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Language Log

Thursday, Nov. 29, 2007 - 7:43 p.m.

I wasted my time yesterday, and I continued to waste it today. I have made a grand total of one object per day for the last three days. I have an appointment to sell things to the Perambulating Chelonian next week; I could get on it and have a fresh batch of goodies for her, but I don't know now if that will happen because I've been so lazy. She has plenty to choose from, I just like to ensure there are as many irresistible objects as possible.

I find that I have nothing to say now that I don't have classes, advisors, or students to complain about. What do people talk about? I don't know. I haven't read any good books lately.

Oh, my guitar teacher from my youth won the election and is now mayor of my hometown. That's pretty awesome. For the first time I feel that my home town is in good hands. I would like to see her again, but I'm afraid she'll ask me if I still play guitar. The answer is 'not really'; everyone asks me that. I'm sick of everyone asking me that. You know, if I want to do it, I'll do it.

She would have the right to ask me that, though. She was always a good influence on me/ a good role model for me; she told me once that I would make an excellent professional student. I'd like her to see how right she was.

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