That didn't go so well.

I didn't do so great on my topology test, mea culpa, so it's time to discover a new career. Yeah, I traded laughs in for chartsengrafs, but all of that is only fun until evening comes.

My roommate left a tract taped to my monitor: What if YOU had been here? On the cover is a picture of the burning Twin Towers, inside is a pitch about death and the typical 4-point "Roman Road" followed by the "Sinner's Prayer". Quaint! Now I can know for sure that I will go to heaven.

This evening was the vespers for the leavetaking of Pascha, tomorrow is the leavetaking of Pascha, Thursday is the Ascension. Which means, alas, no more Paschal Troparion ["Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!"], no more Paschal greeting ["Christ is risen!" "Indeed, He is risen!"], no more white vestments [this I'm fine with, they don't fit as well as the gold]. We don't start saying "O Heavenly King..." again, however, until Pentecost. And then we're back to how we always are, the knowledge that we have victory over sin and death in the resurrection of Christ, knowing we too will die and wait for the resurrection, waiting for the consummation of time, catching glimpses of the age which is to come, always waiting, always hoping.