enough said

Sent from my BlackBerry Smartphone provided by Alltel

inspiration

I'm logged into aim, I've got Beowulf lying open on my bed, and I want to stay up all night. How typical of me, four years ago. If only my co-author was around and I was sitting at McDonald's with a cup of French Vanilla. . .

We have heard of those heroic campaigns.

But alas, I'm about to sign off and go to sleep because I'm exhausted and no one else seems to be awake anyway (lame). I had a wonderful day today, but when I was driving home, I felt this anxiety like I had forgotten to do something. I think I'm accustomed to having constant homework or papers to write. This must be similar to phantom pain when one loses a limb. Speaking of pain, my toes hurt. I think I really messed up my big toe, or at least bruised it badly. I swung a heavy metal door open today and hit my foot so hard I actually doubled over in pain. I don't know what that was about. Then again, I am the girl who dislocated a knee getting into a van. It doesn't get much more uncoordinated than that.

Behaviour that's admired is the path to power among people everywhere.

Another of my friends is engaged to be married.

She was Onela's queen, a balm to the battle-scarred Swede.

I had a very gooey browney for desert this evening. It was sublime.

An attendant stood by

with a decorated pitcher, pouring bright

helpings of mead.

Hrrrrrrrothgar was not Purrrrrrrsian, but he definitely wanted to be.

Hrothgar spoke.