Walking to the library
MUSIC: "Love's Got a Ghetto," Franklin Bruno
Love's got a ghetto and it wouldn't be wise to walk all alone in the dark there,
Love's got a ghetto and I wouldn't advise you to park there.
When I started the blog, I knew it was only a matter of time before my smoking became meta; that is, before I began lighting up with an eye to whether I would blog about it later, rather than letting my tobacco reverie wander wherever the hell it would. The loss of innocence came today with Number Three, and so this is a good time to turn the self-consciousness up to eleven and introduce myself.
My name is Helen Rittelmeyer and I am:
A student. An undergraduate student of theology. This semester's work revolves around Edmund Burke, the Babylonian Talmud, and Oscar Wilde, although not all at once. My senior essay is an extended attempt to make a good, if hyper-decadent, Catholic of Oscar Wilde. (And you thought it was just Mormons who did posthumous baptisms.)
A conservative. Movementarian to the core, I pledge allegiance to a highly disreputable Pythagorean brotherhood here at Yale.
A Southerner. Born here, where the only thing they take more seriously than football (Go Rebs!) is William Faulkner. Schooled here.
Catholic. I try to witness according to Cardinal Suhard, "to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist." I usually succeed only in making no sense.
A previous catapult into the blogosphere met with failure, but this one will never lack for material as long as I do not lack for cigarettes.
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