But this time it's real, fellas. Like, I have no idea how to start this assignment or how to finish it before I leave early Wednesday morning. I'm not stressing though.
Sometimes I wonder if a little more stress in my life would be a good thing. But then immediately I'm like, Pah! Hakuna Matata.
I leave for London in two days time. This is marvelous. I shall see Michelle Salvato, my VB homegirl, in the city, party hard, then be off the next morn' to enter the City of Love, Roma, where Zach has told me about a rampant population of pick-pockets and "bag-slashers," my mom has warned me of "aggressive Italian men" who apparently have odd mindsets about American women, and I've also had several of my friends comment in regards to possible heinous occurrences, as referenced from the movie, Hostel, which I am glad I haven't seen.
All in all, I'm super excited.
All in all, life is good.
All in all, if I fail out of this Master's program, the only people that will care are my gracious parents. Just kidding, parents, I won't fail.
But really. What is this degree in Information and Library Studies worth if not further assurance that the world is my card catalog(ue) and I am the catalog(u)er, and I am choosing the classification scheme, and THERE SHALL BE NO facets or coherent shelving order, because I'm also the user and it's more fun to find my stories and adventures at random, and Dewey nor the UDC-police can stop me because my classmarks make NO SENSE, and a transition from print to digital is unnecessary here because my collection is only available to those who make the effort to be with the physical books, so MARC can remain, because he's always been a nice guy, and I think XML is just a bit too big-headed, WHY ELSE would he think he can make the word "extensible" begin with an "X"? So boom, library world, come join me in my labyrinth of unpopular and outdated ideas, because I'm bringin' em to the future, and if that's not irony then students don't suck at seeking information.
You can read that as metaphorically or literally as you wish. Or just not read it. Or think about it ever again.
Hakuna Matata
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