By the way, I suppose I shoudl specify that my 20th century poet was Wallace Stevens. Whom some of you may remember as the Thirteen Ways of Looking At A Blackbird guy.

I was of three minds
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds

Right now I'm looking at Isabella Valancy Crawford's poem Malcolm's Katie which is currently being read in my Canadian lit class. It's interesting thus far, although stupid long. I'll be glad when we move out of the colonial period in that class. ANY DAY NOW.

So today was part two of MagmaMadness, and it went well, although if Benjamin doesn't come home soon and help me with the distribution of the next issue I am going to develop an ulcer from all the stress. I keep developing these little mini-fantasies about the president of the student union attacking me in the hallway and dragging me into her office...which are totally irrational because she's not that kind of person, and 'cause she's on placement for Teacher's College, so she's not even at the school. Once again, I can only conclude that I would be the worst espionage agent ever, my brief tenures as Mary Go Round and Raoul in the Tony DeSpi movies notwithstanding.

People are responding well to Magma on the whole, though. The Student Athletic Centre has expressed interest in contributing articles, as have a variety of people in the university community. Now if only I could stop feeling so damn nervous all the time...

I get to go home in only two more sleeps.

I'd like to throw a huge shout out to my baby sister, the Squidge, for being the only person to get 10/10 on the quiz I made. Boo yeah. If you want, you can take it by clicking on this excessively long linked sentence.

I think it'll be fajitas for supper tonight...

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