Goth lit in the city; Jonathan Swift's girlfriend's skull!!!!

I have been working very hard. Lectures don't begin until the fall semester and I don't have to hand in my dissertation until the summer but I've been wanting to get a head start so I'm sorted out with a card for the university library and I have been getting my head into the books.

I am so totally eighteenth century, although if I had lived then, I'd have rather been a man. Preferably

TCD library is a tad disappointing, all modern lighting and carrels and not at all like the cool old library where all the tourists go and where I will visit when my older, richer sister is over and will pay for me. On the other hand, the new library is very well stocked and I can find everything I need for my research.

On the third hand, I have found some better places to study. Right nearby, I've been hauling my ass into the National Library. Even the smell in there makes me feel more scholarly and wise. I can sit at a great old mahogany desk and order up books and just inhale the generations of wisdom. Loving it. Plus, I kind of have a crush on one of the librarians. I just want to take off his glasses and ruffle his hair and pat him on his corduroy-clad ass and say "But're beautiful..."

On the fourth hand, there's an even cooler library in town. Marsh's Library, which was founded when my home town, and even St. John's, were just a twinkle in the eye of the colonists. It was founded in 1701 and seems to look pretty much as it did on the day it opened. On the minus side, I don't really need to use any of their books which aren't really on my topic. On the plus side, they have a very realistic old replica of Dean Swift's girlfriend's skull!!! Apparently they dug the poor lady up to take a cast of her skull and then put her back. Why? Who knows.

Photo posed by model. Not actual skull.

I'm off to bed. Bepe had some friends around this evening and he made massive amounts of pizza and I'm full. Thankfully, Fabia didn't make an appearance with her teeny ass and her stupid lace underwear. But the friends all missed their buses so now the living room is full of Italians drinking wine and shouting at each other about football. Or something.

I don't care. I've got my earplugs.


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