Xanthos

Last night I went to an engagement part for two people that are just full of awesomeness. Then, in true girl form, a group of us stayed at said party until after midnight, wigging out over wedding magazines with the bride. She was delighted that the first thing that needs to be done is: dress. I mean, who wouldn't smile at that?

Since I didn't get home until 1am, I didn't read my chapters of Homer. I know, I know.

Then, in class, for the first time in my college career and maybe only the 2nd or 3rd time in my ever-school career, we had a pop quiz.

About the chapters I didn't read.

And I guessed that there hadn't been a talking horse in the reading.

But there had been.

His name wasn't Mr. Ed. And he bothered Achilles (not the tendon).

Now I'm going home, and I will probably eat food. Hopefully you're going home and will probably eat food. And hopefully you don't feel like you wasted the last 40 seconds reading about the quiz where I denied the existence of a talking horse.

Actually, I still deny the existence of a talking horse. Au revoir.