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February 9, 1948

Dear folks,

Your snow and ice sounded very uncomfortable and dangerous. I hope it melted off soon.

Yes, work over and I have a small accumulation of mishaps-- a cold, neuritus (mild intestinal flu), 57 dollars, and a broken heart. The illnesses are chiefly due to too many candy bars, I am not suffering from fatigue. Last night for an hour I moaned and groaned (2:30) while Jean [[strikethrough]] and [[/strikethrough]] recalled how her sister Betty got hit with appendicitus; finally as she decribed the bump I found one; "What side is it on" asked Jean; of course it was on the left. The health center has given me treatment, but it was very miserable for a while; Dr. Tisza said she had had it herself. One of the nicest memories I will have of work will be the friendly advice of Mr Davis, the colored BU math grad student. I can never adequately express how fully he saw the comedy of the whole situation or my silly infatuation, the characters of myself, Louise Kelly, the other people there, and how everything fitted in. Probably I am over-emphasizing as usual, but his appreciation was certainly deep, and kind. He had an Uncle Remus tone and appropriate story with the moral for the occasion. Saturday I was surprised to find Dick--perhaps he was more so. He came in with a bunch, towering above them; and when he saw me he thrust up a red hand clutching his red scarf, his eyes popped open, and he shouted, "Doris!" And came over with his characteristic enthusiasm for all his friends to talk until Ansel beckoned me away.

Subjects. Milton has a boring lecturer, but I shall be interested in style development and thought I may extract on my own. Tudor history has pompous Jordon, and is boring too. Again I have gotten all worked up over subjects I want and have to take. Wednesday I am going to try to get out of this course in favor of a modern history or govt course that will hold my interest. Also shall fight my way out of taking any more French if I can. I am continually re-planning what I want to get out of college, fighting it out with myself and, [[strikethrough]] the [[/strikethrough]] soon, my tutor and dean. I don't care about doing well--if it means the silly meticulous research of a thesis into an antique subject, or knowing certain facts of Eng history for my generals--I want to come out knowing what I [[strikethrough]] knew [[/strikethrough]] want to know, and I am going to fight for those things. Grr. Bio la promises to provide opportunities for original work--I am buying slides so as to make [[strikethrough]] slides for later use [[/strikethrough]] permanent ones--and also to be a good deal more difficult than Da. I have my labs in the morning, a good time. I haven't checked up on gym yet, I may have missed a couple of classes already. But modern dance is exactly what I want. After a couple of terms of it I shall join the dance group which spends perhaps a couple of hours a week working out modes of expression to music--something I have always enjoyed, and often now dance for a half hour at a time, getting a big thrill out of it. Poise plus.

Now must to bed. Am worried lest Dick expect me to invite him to our Valentine dance rather than inviting me to his; but I shant, and shall refuse David. It may be good for him but it is too much of a strain on me, I am obliged to talk like mad all the time when I go out with him, and he isn't too intelligent. A whole evening would be awful! What inhumanity, I repent of it. Good night.
Love,
Doris