So after a universally-disagreeable February, March has come in like a lamb, which has me slightly worried about the two snowfalls we will still inevitably have this season. It is sixty-five degrees outside, which means flip-flops, crop tops, and Crocs have come out of hibernation to join the occasional wool pea coat and scarf still wandering around outside. (Of course, I did see a girl wearing flip-flops during a snowstorm, but I've given up asking questions about that sort of thing.) We are in that curious netherworld of climatic ambiguity that is so characteristic of central Ohio, but after such a brutal winter (in more ways than one), I have learned not to ask questions and just enjoy the rare 40 mph winds that do not cause my teeth to chatter uncontrollably.

For those of you interested in the namesake of this entry, Le Sacre du Printemps, is a ballet with music by Stravinsky, which I studied last spring with Seb Knowles in English 596, Music and Literature. We watched the video of this distinctly edgy interpretation in class. [Warning: Contains nudity]