hear only the truth

Do you ever have those days when you figure it's time you talked with your family, but none of them answer their phone?

My mother has been living in Florida for a month now, and I haven't talked to her for more than a half an hour in as much time. I need some time with her.

Dad... well, I haven't talked to him since a couple nights after his wedding, and I'd like to know how the first few weeks are treating him.

He doesn't deal well with marriages, and I'm really hoping this one works. I'd like to see him keep one major promise.

Tylere called me last night, lonely and down-cast, so we talked for about three hours until he sounded like himself again. We haven't talked much in the last couple of weeks, and I feel as though the reverse from last year is true: I sat for two weeks and felt each painful moment of his absence while the time flew for him. Now the painfulness of absence is felt for him.

Of course, I miss my friends, but this semester is loaded to the brim. Many dear ones are not being called regularly, which is why I feel badly that no one is home in my assigned time for calls. How selfish of me, don't you think?

Between the phonetics transcription project, the phonological analysis paper, and weekly homeworks in theoretical math I'm eternally busy.

Speaking of my phonological analysis, though, I have to share my excitement:

The assignment is to find a grammar for a language that has not received thorough, formal analysis. Then I have to find an interesting phonological phenomenon in that language, afterwhich I provide the appropriate analysis and present my data.

This is the stuff a thesis is made of, and I'm really happy they are preparing me for such work.

Here's the interesting part: yesterday as I sat in the back corner of the 9th floor of the library - flipping through the transcriptions of a Native American, Aztec language, Kiowa, when I realized an interesting (and by that analyst, undetected) tonal melody.

There was a rush (sort of like falling in love) when I found it, and I ran down to the fifth floor, where Heather was searching for something similar in Slovak, so I could announce my thrill.

After a good five hours in the library Heather and I went to have home-made soup and sandwhiches before braving the walk home.

I'm making a "cheerful" comp disc now, for Heather, and it's not a very easy thing to do.

My thoughts are simply that all of this can only become more natural