Bloglet, the gentleman's mock turtle soup -- Moss made it sweeter than myrrh ash and dhoup
It's been a rough night for a few different reasons, and I slacked around reading blogs for a long while before studying. But I did study -- just verbal -- and took another diagnostic. Still being careless in the reading comprehension questions. Gotta stop that. Gotta arse myself to be methodical about this drivel. It's not beyond me; I'm just being an impatient git. Anyway, should be meeting a GRE tutor dude tomorrow morning, and I'll see if he can help me out at all with the math stuff, which is beyond me, but will, I hope, get less so by the end of the month.
The weekend, by the way, was wonderful. K. and I ate groaning boards full of Vietnamese and Greek food and watched The Magic Flute and slept and did Greek (well, she did Greek and then let me sound out the words and try to reverse-engineer them using my sketchy memory and her excellent translations) and read novels in the bathtub. Then the rest of the Coven of Doom came over and we had bruschetta and deviled eggs and zucchini fritters and exceedingly caprine cheese. After that, we watched the Puppy Bowl, about which I can say only... well, uh... I... I got nothing. It was so profoundly profoundly wrong in so very many ways. I couldn't lay out a fraction of what a solid hour and a half of the thing did to our poor vulnerable little minds. Mein Gott in Himmel. The WRONG!
There's one more thing. Today's a year since K. and I both shuffled our feet and blushed and muttered to each other (over IM) that sight unseen and of all confounded notions we both sort of well um seemed to be developing a bit of a thing for one another in some manner of speaking if one takes one's meaning and it's not horribly importunate to say so.