I made it through Cornell University all the way to my senior year … before i really went crazy.

My earlier interest in Anne Sexton set the stage for my fascination with the writer George Eliot (the pen name of Mary Ann(e) Evans) when i became an English major at the beginning of junior year.

I guess i was just lucky to have taken a class early on where we read George Elliot at all — how did i know who i would really like? I’d like to think that i took good advantage of opportunities i had — maybe enough to make up for the opportunities i missed. Lots of people probably end up finishing college with majors they didn’t really want, but they did it because they thought it would prepare them for the “best” job. I suppose i was really privileged (as well as ballsy enough) to be able to do what i wanted — i didn’t care about making money.

Maybe if I hadn’t embraced romance, i would have made it through college more easily (i.e., without going crazy). Maybe i would’ve ended up teaching physics somewhere, if i hadn’t switched to English … if i hadn’t fallen in love.

I really don’t know whether that would’ve been better or not. Maybe my fascination with love was as misguided as my fascination with math and physics. Maybe in the end i’m happy to be alone and have lots of time to do whatever i want.

Maybe i never had any idea of what i really should do, … what would be best for me.  Like most of my classmates i mostly stuck with things i was good at. Maybe none of my choices would’ve made any difference.