The Usual Suspects

I realize I have been lax in posting, and I would put the blame on too much work, but I know many of you lead lives that are just as, if not more, busy as mine. Truthfully I lack the inspiration and the skill to be a full time blogger. I prefer to lurk around (in the least creepiest way possible), and read each of your beautiful and diverse blogs.

I sense the time is drawing near where I shall have to emerge from the hazy world of dreams I have occupied thus far in my life. Although I have a lovely older sister, I often lead the childhood of only child. My refuge has always been the stories that have inhabited my head since before I can remember. Now life decisions are invading this solitary and quiet peace of mind.

I thought I was going to end up in Paris next year. My friends warned me I would be lonely... but if you had to be depressed, what better place than old Paris, non?

I met with the head of my department today. Apparently, I should instead be headed for the city where castles seem to float miraculously on the water. A city linked by canals, this Venice of the North. Yet St. Petersburg does not draw me in for some reason. I wonder why.

I wish there were more options than those I see people around me making. I still want the option to be "anything I want to when I grow up." I haven't found anything that entices me, so am I allowed to keep looking?