L'automne, quand tombent les coeurs

High gear instantaneously as I got back to Cambridge.

In addition to a full semester of courses I've become the happy co-progenitor of a potential survey in Nor'eastern Jordan, where the roads are few and the smugglers many (that's the hearsay): A happy encounter with a previously un-deciphered rock-carving this summer left a chum in the good graces of some folks over there... Said folks said "come on back next summer," and so he's going back and I guess I'll be in the hand-luggage. The intention is to manufacture some kind of epigraphy/archaeology hybrid. So far things are looking up.
Along with that I've picked up a few lecturing spots at the museum, part of a program for educating our volunteer tour-guides. So experience teaching. And some jitters. And the nagging thought: "why am I doing this as I attempt to learn Ugaritic?" (Ugaritic, by the way, kicks ass)
Usually followed by another thought which is not really an articulated thought, but rather something like this.

Moving out of dormitories and into real-people housing is also a benefit for my general psychological health, and a giant leap in the direction of convincing myself that I am a mildly functional human being. Our landlord was a champ today and changed the shower curtain. Now that I put it into words, though, I'm not sure when changing shower curtains fell into the landlord's purview. Perhaps he takes the name very very seriously and considers petroleum and associated by-products as his responsibility.

I grew my hair out this summer.
I'm pretty pleased about that.
and: Vox DA5. 'nough said. But I'll say more anyways - I'll be ramping that bad boy up with my Squire stratocaster come saturday. (it's only after writing about this that I was inspired to add the hypertext link earlier in the email)(c'est bête mais il fallait y penser)