late

jebus. it is late. encore.

I am in the middle of a hectic time, mainly because I decided to compact all of my classes and assignments into two weeks instead of a leisurely three so that I could head out to New York and figure out if NYU will be intellectually rigorous enough for me! That and I couldn't pass up an almost fully subsidised trip to NYC.

The upshot is that my last semester of undergrad is turning out to be uber-busy. Love it.

This week consists of finally finishing my program (which I shunted into a 498 class - my only 400 level class in 6 years of university!), after just recently figuring out the problem that had plagued my supervisor and me for a few days (I emailed my supervisor at 11:13pm to advise him of my success while he was concurrently emailing me to send his regrets!), and writing lab after lab after lab. I will be avoiding the "final pub crawl of my undergraduate career," as is often exclaimed by my wide-eyed fellow students, so that I can finish all this stuff. Of course, I may still meet the crew later just to revel in their drunkenness.

There are a few other things going on, interviews and the like, so I am trying to learn french this weekend as well.

On a much more pleasant note, I finally got out on the water this past weekend. K came out and, on a spur of the moment decision, we decided to rent a boat to row around in the harbour. We wanted to go friday evening but we were too late, so we booked ahead for saturday afternoon at 1pm. The day started out dreary but bright and we convinced ourselves that the weather would conform to our desires. At 12:59, totally appropriately, the rain started falling, slowly at first, taunting us, before pouring down mockingly.

I think I may have yelled (just a litte) and perhaps cursed someone or something. We ended up huddling under the tiny canopy at the marina debating whether we should go or not - the employee suggested no. We wavered but our adventurous spirit prevailed ... we would go out for 1 hour (instead of the planned 3), freeze to death, get completely soaked, return miserable but triumphant in our sneering at the element and then tell all our friends that it was totally worth it! The 4 of us (harmony and alan came too) boarded tentatively and, paddles knocking against each other in a distinctly non-rhythmic pattern, we steered into the harbour avoiding watertaxis as best we could. Success! The rain stopped soon after we got out in the water and we called the marina to extend our trip - no one hour pathetic circle ... we were going on a three hour tour.

We found an island and I know where you think this is going. We had our own Ginger Grant, so we decided to send Alan (Gilligan?) onto the island. He stole a flower and angered the natives. It started to rain again. Correlation or causation? What more can an angry spirit do than cause rain? We bailed, bailed, bailed, drank beer, ate food, struggled vainly against surging rapids, and, against all odds, discovered ourselves. It was a teen dream cruise. So much sex.

And at the end, we totally tried to chase and board a watertaxi. The occupants looked frightened ... or maybe happy ... some emotion that involved showing teeth. Anyway, I just note this to show how much we changed in those three hours. When we first came out we were sheep, fearful of taxis and their terrible wakes. At the end we were sharks. Watertaxi chasing sharks.

god it's late.

Alors, parce-que en seulement 5 jours je devrai parler avec deux Quebecois au sujet du gouvernement, je finirai cette lettre en français. J'espere qu'il tu as rendu heureux.

K: any good?

merde.