Nope, not at all still wanting to travel. Oh No. I'd much rather stay here in sunless Indiana and sink slowly into the mud. Yes, that's what I'd rather do. A new semester is upon me, which means a new batch of freshmen, a new stack of books waiting on my table for toting up to Lafayette, and a new land speed record in writing. The great plans I'd had for winter break (the list was short: Reading Proust, stripping and refinishing the backporch wainscoting, writing 20 new poems, writing 40 record reviews, revising my portfolio, and sending stuff out to the literary journals for possible publication) didn't come to fruition. At least I got the dishes done and caught up on my sleep. Oh, and I did laundry. Discovered that there are clotheslines strung all over the basement, which goes with the 1940's Top-of-Dress-on-Hanger Clothespin Holder (I'll take a picture of it if I have to), so, to save on the gas bill, I hung up my epic heap of wet clothes. Come Spring, I'll need to get an outdoor clothesline installed...I'm sure the laundry will be more pleasant without that "cellar fresh smell."
Happy New Year, everybody! I hope you managed to struggle on past Christina Aguilera's rap-inflected squallfest and see the ball drop. Here's hoping 2007 will be a better year!