My exam this morning was very straight-forward and I got to crochet beforehand. I spent the next few hours getting a delicious amount of Old Norse translation accomplished. Then, cracking whips quite impromptu with my Foxe in the courtyard, to the sounds of "Whip It Good!", put on by an amused audience in a different apartment. Then, singing for hours and hours and hours at my temple. It never fails - I feel the most spiritual and in-touch when my voice arches across the ceiling, filling the room. Then back for more impromptu wuggling with my Foxe, with tea and honey and hair ties of doom.
It is late, and I have to be at John Hopkins tomorrow for an inordinate amount of schmoozing. But I feel warm, content. Peaceful, even. Or maybe that's amaretto-lemon-honey tea afterglow. Or Foxe afterglow. Or Moe afterglow. Or life afterglow.
I'm actually rather sure a significant chunk of marvelous has to do with Foxe. (Sorry, Moe.) The spur-of-the-moment silliness that's inherent in the way we interact is refreshing. And sweetly satsifying. I don't have to be on-guard. I don't have to wonder if what I'm doing is being interpreted in an unfavorable light. Or if there's some cue I've missed. I react however's natural and it's always right. And there is always joy.
I've noticed lately, too, that I've been not seeing people. I've run into Natalie twice by accident (thank God, or I'd never see her), and Danielle (ditto) recently in the hall. But I don't find myself wandering over there so much. I just don't have the spaces of time I did last semester - it's probably all the ballroom dancing, come to think of it. I've decided to hit it hard and dance at least three times a week. I have ridiculous amounts of fun doing it, and come away from each dance session with the same springing joy as I do from singing. Or from Foxe.
These really do seem to be the three these days - no matter how I go in, I always come out with the proverbial spring in my step from dancing, singing, and Foxe. And since I've been doing a lot of all three, no wonder I've been feeling splend. It plays a nice counterpoint to the melodrama-gothy moods of September through January. Which were due, quite frankly, to a single source.
I wonder sometimes if I'm cutting out the world unintentionally by trying to reduce tension with Hawke. Which may be a subconscious reason for not seeing my Danielle or my Liz so much lately. In which case, grar, machinating subconscious. Practical, but machinating.
Balance, balance, balance.
Meanwhile, I'm beset by choices on where to go to grad school. I know, the horror. However will I cope.
But it is rather vexing. Practically speaking, the program at Maryland is better than the ones at Penn and MIT. I'm not sure about Johns Hopkins yet. Logistically speaking, UMCP or JHU would be ideal - I'd still be within dancing, singing, Raven, and Foxe range. And either area would work for potential living conditions.
But everyone gives me googly eyes when I tell them I want to stay around here. Which is starting to be mildly aggravating. Though everyone gave me googly eyes when I told them I wanted to come to Maryland as an undergrad. [shrug] It seems to have worked out quite nicely.
Anywhich, off to dream tonight and do some first-rate schmoozing tomorrow and Sunday.