First real day of class (be serious, syllabus week is a joke) kicked off with my graduate seminar on the history of landscape architecture; hung around for a bit with Levi, grabbed lunch with Chester, skittered off to my 17th Rome class to talk about the Council of Trent (as analogous to changing underwear styles) for a couple hours, a bit of a break to check in on the Sick One and then back in that frigid room for an hour and a half of American Art in the 1760s-70s.
Now, I have to say, I am indescribably proud of myself because not only am I caught up on the reading for all of my classes, but I’m ahead! I know, right?! Anyway, up through chapter three of The Man Who Was Thursday and I’m still not quite sure how I feel; it’s not bad or uninteresting by any means, but you know how it is when you’re reading something for someone else’s sake? Yes, well, that’s me.
Oh, the picture? Welcome to campus.