One of THOSE days

Yesterday afternoon, someone stole my wallet from the on-campus coffeeshop. The first thing my mom asked me when I told her was "What business did I have doing in a coffee shop?" as if I instead had lost my wallet at a brothel, but let's back up a little.

I'm taking my Jr. Seminar Being an Art History Major class, which translates into "So you think want to be an art history major?" Yesterday was our 3 hour information session about databases, search engines, and the like. So I had the pleasure of sitting in a room with no windows/natural light in it for 1.5 hours staring at a computer screen while we looked up obscure modern artists on things like Worldcat, Academic Search Premier, Artstor, JSTOR, GroveArt, the regular library catalogue with the obscure name in the title, in title+title in contents, in anywhere, in journal, authors, in bibliographies, with first name, with last name, with first AND last names, in advanced searches with ands and ors, and with asterisks and without asterisks, with and without quotations, with and without language limitations, and blah, blah, blah.

Basically, it was a really stimulating three hours.

So after the first 1.5 hours, when I started to wonder if this is what God really intended when he made Adam and Even, if instead of the Tree of Knowledge he would have just given them a PC and said "Have at it!" then would we by now be printing things from our deltoids and just have to think about a book to have it delivered directly to us? I don't think it was much of a surprise when I decided that it would indeed be nice to take a break at the C-Shop with my wallet.

Where I lost said wallet.

The rest is pretty self-explanatory.

Today I tried to go to the study room at the Art Institute, which I've been e-mailing someone about since Tuesday, and only after calling today did I find out they unexpectedly closed the reading room today and yesterday (I have an inkling why...), which is absolutely wonderful, because I didn't REALLY need to see some prints from the presentation I have on Monday, which I actually prepared for for last Monday.


That was another moment of brilliance I had the past weekend, including me barelling up State Street, frantically waving my hands while hurdling curbs and, you know, sky scrapers, in order to catch the last 6 bus to Hyde Park, which proceeded to stop 10 feet after I had alighted at a regular stop, and on which all the bleary-eyed passengers eyed me irritatedly for interrupting the regular snail-paced crawl of the bus.

Yeah, sometimes I feel like I never left Italy.