the moon may be high, but i can't see a thing in the sky

i confess that i have been putting off posting anything in here - it has become very daunting, this project of regular online documentation of mine, whose sudden irregularity has left me with far too much to truly say. the trip with my family (this is cliffs in ireland to the left) was full of colossal moments and tiny moments and also just the business of being together and seeing places. i experienced a new sensation as a blogger, in that usually when i take trips i keep very shorthand notes of my thoughts and small noteworthy experiences so that i can later use the resource for my memory and writings here, but during this trip i was struck a few times by moments that are too private to be comfortably expressed. sometimes the heart looms too large, i suppose. and don't get me wrong, there is much that could very easily be expressed about the trip - irish vs. scottish cultural differences, the oppressive, imposed thoughtlessness of being a three-day tour member, the expanded world-bubbles of remote folk, the trials of driving in britain (my dad did quite well with his four female passengers in a tiny manual peugeot), the tiresomely heavy culinary traditions of potato-dependent cultures, and so many wee stories about places and people and games and laughs.

but, as above said, i am daunted. not to mention the 3,000 word essay on my literature course from first semester due friday that remains in the theoretical state at present - and this is the one that counts for the pride, written for the professor whom i greatly admire and to whom i owe some shining work.
i am also in the process of planning two trips to france, one to paris and one to see rachel whitlock in grenoble and nice & cassis with andrew. perhaps finally on the mediterranean i will have an excuse to wear a pretty sundress (i have been missing this possibility sorely of late, apparently sweaters feel frumpy after a 5-month reign).
and the sun is out in edinburgh, the flowers are blooming and the days are long. my investments here are beginning to feel a little wild and pressed, and there are no regrets whatever but i am learning to envy the simplicity of self-enclosed lives of small worlds that seem like everything and infinity - i'm not sure i will be able to feel that way again about my life anytime soon. i was recently considering with a great deal of seriousness arranging to stay in edinburgh for the summer instead of going to charlottesville as i've been planning and dreaming about. it was something of an existential dilemma, in fact, resolved during the contemplation-inspiring scenescapes of ireland; you may perhaps have guessed already that the rational side has prevailed, and i will be coming home as planned on june 5th to all that i want and need with most of my self. i have no doubt that it will be wretchedly difficult to go, but i think i have enough command to persist in the inevitable floating mode, however brief or extended.
for now, i must wrap up an email draft to a professor and think about how the individual is subordinated to social & political forces in the modern european novel - crises of will and meaning make great essay fodder, so wish me luck. there is at least 'just like honey' by the jesus & mary chain to accompany and tug the heart strings, as it does. funny how they chose to open their album with it, but it seems to me that it should only ever be exit music.
and so with that, *exeunt*