sick. slept most of the day, skipped (well, called off) rehearsal, even left my poetry class early. a couple enthusiastic responses to my love song (see below) coupled with a remark that it was "eliot-like" and "eliot-esque" and a complaint that there wasn't enough rhyme. some members of the class had no idea that eliot was in any way connected to Cats -- they looked appropriately chagrined.

tomorrow is for recooperating. until evening, i have nothing else to do. i'm trying to figure out whether it's worth it to go to the anti-war protest on the 15th in ny. pointless jumping-up-and-down and arm-waving, or a part of an escalating international response which is sure to catch the government's attention at some point? war feels inevitable, as does the suspicion that we will all look back on this as a crucial turning point -- the u.s. giving up their moral authority, the rest of the world losing patience, the threat (potentiality?) of terrorism against the u.s. focusing and solidifying in retaliation. but that doesn't mean that even if all of us go and scream at the top of our voices, it will stop anything.

too bleak a note to end on. it's february! a year ago i was despondent in denmark, although that would change; now i'm happy here. stef'n'eliz and ben'n'i have booked one night's retreat in celebration of anniversaries: their 1 yr last week, mine and ben's 2 year on the 17th. a pool, a hottub, cable, a door that locks, time uninterrupted by responsibilities -- what more could you ask for, really?