Ye olde standard conversation starter, Semester wrap-up, and Poetry!

So now we seem to have what usually passes for November weather. Frost. Hard snowfall in the morning, thaw by midday, no snow left except on the shovelled heaps by evening.
Well, it's better than this perpetual moskito-breeding pre-spring thing.
I wonder whether we'll have the usual January weather in May, then?

Do you know these days when for some reason you feel like you could take on the world? I had that today, right until after I left university and came out to the mud and dripping and dark outside.
Oh well, half a day isn't bad either. I needed that.

The semester is finally over, and I'm glad that it is. There were too many seminars that were just a drag and a bore. And far too many project meetings with an annoying and unreliable presentation partner. >.<

Well, it's over now, and the wrap-up week went by pretty nicely. German professors believe in having classes right until the end, but our Irish reading course teacher, for example, was totally wonderful. She came into class with two bottles of sparkling wine, a bag of chocolates and a little shrine-like thingy a friend had sent her. Sigrid - that's the teacher - had just passed her Ph.D. examination two weeks ago. She wrote her thesis on the Austrian author Joseph Roth, so her friend had plastered a photo of Joseph Roth onto some stand-up cardboard. It came with two speech balloons that could be held (or pinned) to the photograph. One said "Thank you! for writing on me." and the other said "I hate soldiers! with high heels on." I have no idea what the latter is supposed to mean.
At any rate, we spent our last class of the semester sitting in a circle, sipping sparkling wine from Winnie-the-Pooh plastic cups, munching chocolates and talking about Joseph Roth, Europe, accents and dialects. Which was highly enjoyable.

Creative Writing was wrapped up with a little performance; the last two classes had been dedicated to drama, and today we had to write a dialogue in groups of four to six people. Plot: Four to six people got stuck in a lift. (Teh Aczel seems to be obsessed with people stuck in lifts at the moment. I wonder whether there will be a play about six people stuck on a lift soon. When Aczel got obsessed with fish in petshops, a year later there was a new play by Richard Aczel titled The Company of Fish.)
I got to play a Japanese actress that didn't know any English. At least I know now that my Japanese suffices for panicking and cursing in a stuck lift. Isn't that cheering!

- - -
In other news, nyourdrms and coppertone have decided that it's time for an LJ poetry slam. An LJ poetry slam means that you don't have to get onna stage and make up poetry on the spot, but that you just post some poetry (presumably, some that you like). Can be some of your own, can be someone else's, can be song lyrics. Just has to be poetry in some way or other.

I'll start with something angsty yet hopeful, because Claire stole the Mythopoeia already.

( Carl Sandburg - Prayers after World War )

You may guess why I like this poem, like, now. I don't need to interpret it properly if it vaguely fits with my fandom. :P