Down and out in Beverly Hills

an interesting movie, i'd say. I hadn't seen it since I was a kid, and watching it again, it makes more sense. I'm sick. Missed class today and i plan on laying in bed all day so i can get over it quickly. I was supposed to have a date tonight. Hopefully dude won't mind waiting till tomorrow. So I read Vogue. right now it's one of only two magazines I subscribe to. The impression that vogue is strictly materialistic and superficial is a deceptive one. I have actually read many a deep and thoughtful article in said magazine. Like the one I read this morning. A very gifted and lucky female war correspondent mused over the life and death of her hero and role model, a woman named Oriana Fallaci. She was an iconoclast (she referred to herself as La Fallaci) and had interviewed everyone from Indira Ghandi to Qaddafi. Not only did she interview them but she was bossy and probing in a way that no other reporter could pull off. This correspondent was writing not of her admiration for Fallaci (although that was implied), but how she avoided what she observed to be the one failing of Fallaci. Fallaci had only one love in her long and war torn career, a greek freedom fighter who was killed in a car crash. She also never had children, but wrote about her regret for the fact in a book "Letter to a Child Never Born". The author di Giovanni woke up one day and realized she feared ending up the same way. She took a leave of absence, married another journalist she had been flinging for years, and had a child within 9 months. I am frightened. I am frightened of ending up like either of these women. I can't say I am as career driven as either of them, or rather that my career is as impressive as either of theres (math teachers are not known for their fame). I really am fairly driven, actually. I am reflecting on this because of my recent sickness. I new it was coming, after all, it was only a matter of time what with the travelling and non stop school, studying, tutoring, and partying. Also, I am about to leave everything and everyone I love and pick up and move to NY for more school and more work. I don't forsee that as being my last move. Let's hope I don't end up old and alone with my high minded aspirations and integrity. Also, I don't want to drop everything and do it on purpose cause I'm afraid it won't happen otherwise. Ivory towers are pretty, but they're lonely. Still, it's where I live.