But I am a cheap bastard. So some of this will probably be done on the school's dime.
Went on a reading spree last night and finished Treasure Island. It's all I can do these days to stay awake past eight o'clock. I'm turning into an old fart. I was planning with a colleague today, and she remarked that Sydney Carton of Tale of Two Cities was the first romantic hero. "Not Jarvis Lorry?" I asked in mock surprise (you know, playing my straightfaced dumbass routine--it never fails to drive them crazy).
"Hell no," she responded smartly. "That's who you're going to turn into when you're middleaged. That's who you are now."
For those of you unfamiliar with the novel (you sad sacks of illiterate shit, you), this might help out:
"Pooh!" rejoined Miss Pross; "you were a bachelor in your cradle."It is a rare joy when a brief acquaintance makes such a shrewd observation. (Not that I wear wigs or anything.)
"Well!" observed Mr. Lorry, beamingly adjusting his little wig, "that seems probable, too."
"And you were cut out for a bachelor," pursued Miss Pross, "before you were put in your cradle."
See? See? Now it's past eight, all because I had to go look that damned quote up. I can't wait until I have time to kill once again.