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That Português is like the most disgusting little bug ever. The one that repulses you with every ounce of your being and yet you can't help being fascinated and filled with the desire to look at it under a microscope.

I've made that analogy to many people by now, but I can't get over how appropriate it is. At least, to me. I can't stand Portuguese, but it still attracts me. And the more I learn about it, the more I'm shocked by how disgusting it sounds/looks/acts and yet that makes me want to learn all the more. It's weird.

I'm definitely losing it a little. I can't commit to anything, since the languages I'm taking classes for--not to MENTION my other classes--have fallen by the wayside, and now I'm like hmmm random Portuguese/Italian/Romanian grammar, and sporadic interest in Afrikaans and Danish...my brain just can't deal with it. So it shuts down; I'm not really learning too much at this point, and concentration drags at a mimimum...

Like, sort of how I'm failing calculus and doing progressively more poorly in history. Which is sort of bad since I'm on madd waitlists. (Pomona and Middlebury waitlisted me too, haha).

I can't keep up living and functioning this way, but I don't really know what to do differently. But...I'm not really going to let it worry me right now, I guess.

Oh and uh. Today was Carol's birthday and I totally forgot. Some friend I am. Love ya, Cal-chan. Happy birthday ^^
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arrowwhiskers

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