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I just squished another centipede. (I know: Dear Daddy Longlegs and the "I squished a centipede with my hairbrush this morning part should have warned me not to go to college in the northeast!). They turn up periodically, but I am mostly worried about the Ones That I am Not Seeing. eeeeeeeeeek! (Also: I know that house centipedes are actually v. beneficial, and that they mostly can't bite people, but they are very icky and scary and unpleasant to find in one's room.

I didn't do anything today. I tried to practice, but got so tired that I had to take a nap on the practice room floor, and then I went off to the library, and alternately read Lysias (100 lines of Attic prose ha!) and Anthony Trollope (The Small House at Allington). So far I am guessing Lily/Johnny Eames and Bell/Dr. Croft, but it is hard to tell. Mostly because while both Lily and Bell are awesome, there are NO young men who are worth it at all so far. For Adolphus Crosbie is clearly a worthless self-centered creep, and it's only a matter of time before Lily comes to her senses (in spite of his morally improving brush with otherwise Gratuitously Inserted Mr. Harding, if Mr. Harding can ever be said to be gratuitously inserted) or he does something despicable and the engagement gets called off. I am also hoping for some middle-aged romance between Mrs. Dale and the Earl or something. Trollope is completely capable of letting the no-longer-young, and even widows, fall in love again. (I LOVE HIM SO MUCH).

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