Post-BA redux

Still have to orally defend my paper, but the paper itself is finished. Not finished, handed in. My own main problems with the BA were that a) my French grammar has reached a plateau, and short of doing something so drastic as living in a francophone environment for an extended amount of time, I don't quite see how it would improve; and b) I discovered many, many things I wanted to add to the paper, about Proust, about contemporary French-Israeli and French-Jewish relations, those much-needed sentences explaining why each paragraph is where it is in the paper (so-called "transition" sentences, which, like stretching before and after running, I have an unfortunately tendency to think of as a myth, as unneccessary, when in fact...), weird tie-ins with Philip Roth, Saul Bellow, David Brooks, Irving Kristol, and more. It could be a book. A crummy book, perhaps, but a book all the same, a sort of academic-flavored WWPD.

So, with my newfound freedom from the Regenstein House of Pancakes, what will I do with myself? So far, I've tried Chipotle for the first time ever, and (listen to this, Kate, you who claim I don't like Mexican food) liked it, went to the MCA to see, among other things, a giant clam-sculpture and a fabulous room full of shiny things, and this evening, if all goes according to plan, I will get a much-needed haircut and buy copious amounts of cheese.