I Have a lot of Homework.

Have I told you that it's painfully obvious that I haven't had a French class in over a year? It's not like riding a bike. Riding a bike is muscle memory. Skydiving is like riding a bike. Speaking French is like playing the violin. I spent years in my early childhood learning it and I haven't touched one since 7th grade and I can remember one section of one song. And it sounds terrible when I play it.
I mean, it's not that bad. But it's rough and rocky.

I'm not gonna let my posts fall off the face of the Earth, like then did when I was at HMC.

In the mornings my cellphone alarm goes off at 7:25. Then I hit snooze and it goes off again at 7:30. Then I turn it off. My watch alarm beeps at 7:33 and I roll over and open my laptop. It sits on my bed all night long, kind of like a stuffed animal, but my laptop really does communicate with me, unlike Pity Penguin, who just kind of sits there and sometimes falls off the bed.

So I check my email before I get out of bed and turn on some music and this morning I looked through all the photos I took at Oxford. There are surprisingly few.

I didn't take ANY inside any building. I barely have any photos of any of the places I frequented. My memory of that place is an expansive panorama, and the actual photos I have are itty bitty tiles here and there.

I can't let that happen here. But I'm sure it will.

So I'm slowly working my way into a friendship with these three musicians who are about my age. Yesterday I saw the bassist walking down the street carrying his bass and he stopped and put his bass down and gave me the cheek greeting and we chatted and he told me when they were playing next (tonight!) and that I should come. So I will. A set of French musician friends is just what I need.

And life is right where it should be.