My love is like a red, red violet. Wait, wait... that's not right. Magnolia? Daisy?

Hello again. Yes, it's been another week since I last posted, and that means that I should post again, lest my four readers cease their digital meanderings in my direction, and I never hear from them again. Sadly, or perhaps not so sadly, not too much of consequence has occured in the last week, just school and friends and music and what-not to consume the hours, although in far from equal porportions. This morning I checked my student email to discover that my inbox was full of junk emails that someone thought would be rather clever to send to the entire campus. Of course, once someone goes to the trouble of sending one to the world, thirty other people of equal maturity decided that they'd just hit "reply to all" and send along their little messages of annoyance to the whole campus. Yeah. After cleaning the rubbish out of my inbox, I considered reading through my deleted items folder, rounding up a posse, and giving each and every spammer (about thirty individuals, some with multiple emails to their name) a good, old-fashioned punch in the face, but I thought better of it when I considered that the average person could probably beat me at fisticuffs. I'm still pretty confident that they deserved it, though.
There, that's the rage and vengance segment of our program, and now we move on to a lighter subject: Poppyseed muffins. You may think them ridiculously ordinary, but poppyseed muffins are actually one of the most significant inventions of the last two centuries. Discovered entirely by accident one Sunday morning in Dorchesterbrigdeshire by a rather clumsy housewife named Mavis, circa 1824, the wholly remarkable phenomenon that is the poppyseed muffin can perhaps best be described by one word: Jellyfish Market. Alright, you caught me, that's two words, but I think that you can now begin to understand just how remarkably important a thing we're talking about. I mean, one doesn't throw the term 'jellyfish market' around lightly, good heavens above. Anyways, the poppyseed muffin remained in obscurity, its myriad benefits hidden from the larger world, until they were discovered by Emile de Chancoineaux, while vacationing in the English countryside in 1871 (although to be completely honest, he was vacationing mainly in order to get out of serving in the Franco-Prussian War, which would not suprisingly end badly for the French shortly thereafter). Chancoineaux introduced his own version of the poppyseed muffin in his Paris salon in 1873, where it was giddily consumed by the intellectual elite of the time, many of whom were hoping that it was a cheaper form of opium. It was of these very same muffins that novelist Guy de Maupassant was speaking when he uttered the now-famous words:"cette tarte me plait," or in English: "I like this tart." Indeed, poppyseed muffins had caught parisians so much by suprise that they didn't even have a name for them, and resorted to calling them tarts. Jellyfish market, indeed.
Whoah. Sorry, I have no idea where that all came from. I've spent the majority of the last two days in an armchair in my room, reading economics and french books, occaisionally getting up to plink a few notes on my piano or make a cup of coffee or tea. Yes, I'm afraid that my life is that uninteresting most of the time, although it's seldom unpleasant. I'm afraid that (as you can clearly see) I've very little to talk about at the moment, and for that reason I shall leave you until next time. I'll try to update in a few days rather than a full week, and maybe have something interesting to talk about by then. We'll see. Thanks for being yourself, I wish you the very best.