When it all comes down to it, this fortune I have stumbled upon is almost too lucky, and thinking about and being excited about it is both nerve-wracking and jinxing it would seem. Instead, I’ll glow in the calm before the storm and revel in the fact that I too, in a fashion, am fortunate enough to return to school this fall and reconnect with the coveted ‘Bachelor of Arts’ – the very degree, piece of paper and spirit, that made me the person I am today; that made me the writer, that made me appreciate the work of Lillian Gish and Dorothy Arzner and Stan Brackhage, that made me realize fully my lack of appreciation for the invention of the cart and axel (but wish almost, that I did indeed care about the ancient history of science, technology and medicine, if only to make my life easier), that helped me find my own kindred spirits in literature and in life. To re-nourish myself with all of these elements of the life I had that ended in 2009, is too lucky, too wonderful, too exciting, too relieveing, not to revel in and celebrate, despite that the superstitious black cat-demeanor I possess mayn’t allow me to do so.


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