care for your work/ for your work care/ work for your care/ fork you care worn

Well, last night scuttle was starving so we went and had dinner. It beat seeing the Hitchflick by myself. We had a good talk about options in university and why we chose what we chose. I knew long ago that I fumbled my time at UVic and didn't get near what I could have out of it. In the end I just piled up credits until I could leave with a Poli Sci BA, which I still look on as a bit of a booby prize though I did learn some moderately useful skills earning it. Since then I've made the best of it I think but again, as with so many other things in life, it could have been more pleasant and less roundabout.

Scut's aim is to be a translator living in Europe, something I think is vastly more worthwhile and certainly more interesting. I was good with languages from childhood and gave them up after high school, something I should not have done in retrospect. But then again, the blinkers we don ourselves (no matter who offers them to us - parents, peers, whoever) are the most opaque and take a long time to remove. Here's to Scut and her good work!

None of the photos I took on Sunday turned out. Drat. But I'll try again with the Zenit and run a roll of that B&W film through.