It's like ten thousand spoons
I had an exam today so I found myself a quiet spot to hang out and cram Sociology into my head for 5hrs before I had to go write that ish.And halfway through this chick comes and sits on the edge of my table
and starts talking to this dude as though I'm not clearly sitting there and studying
but I'm not rude and they were just chatting so I kept on recopying my notes on Max Weber for the zillionth time and trying to block 'em out with Beck
it was working, until this prof came up and said
OH HEY CLAIRE CAN I ASK YOU WHAT PROGRAM YOU WERE USING TO ACCESS THE WEBSITE LAST WEEK?
and she says OH I WAS USING FIREFOX WHY WAS THERE A PROBLEM?
and he says WELL I WAS JUST ASKING BECAUSE OF well you get the point they started all yell-talking and I'm sitting there surrounded by my papers and textbooks and cups of coffee thinking
can't these people see that I'm studying here?
so I take out my earphones and stare straight at the prof and he keeps looking at me and just going on talking using a volume usually restricted to rock concerts and finally I say
um... excuse me, I'm trying to study for my exam
and I'm getting the stink-eye from all of 'em as they walk away
because studying in a post-secondary institution is apparently unheard of.
These pictures of our stable justice
We're reading The Blind Assassin in Lit and the embedded narrative is a girl and a guy and the story he tells her whenever they meet up, secretly, in slummy apartments or back rooms or park benches. They make verbal jabs at each other and play stupid mind games and before and sometimes after they've made love he tells her this story.
It's about other dimensions and aliens and sci-fi stuff but actually it's about the couple and the secret message the guy spends the whole novel -basically their whole time together- trying to tell her, dressed up with courtiers and sacrifice.
See, he's in love with her and wants to run away with her to anywhere but where they are so they can actually be together, but she doesn't seem to get it, either on purpose or because she's too busy trying to play the role she thinks she's supposed to be playing. He spends all this time telling her this story that's interesting and insightful but what he should really be saying, the whole time, is
IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou
but he doesn't. Maybe he can't.
It makes me sad and it makes me wonder why
and I think about how many people go through their lives being too afraid to tell the people that they love that they love 'em
until it's too late. until they can't.
for whatever reason
and I wonder what about Love with a Capital L scares people so much
maybe we love the wrong people
maybe we don't love ourselves enough
maybe we're just not programmed to do it
maybe it's all just made up
maybe love is actually just a dressed-up story
but I'd rather not think that.
Can't get shot in the back if you don't run
Sometimes you listen to something a million times
maybe it's on in the background
or maybe you weren't really listening before
but then one time
you listen to it.
This is one of those songs.
Wow.
Spending my evening glued to my iMac.
having walked around in Oxfords all afternoon in the sunshine
drank too much coffee
let the wind blow up my dress
it wasn't so cold today.
and I felt warmer on the inside than I have in weeks.
not just in my muscles
but in my heart
I've been stressed out for no reason
at least I think?
In my chair, as I sit back smiling from ear to ear
I hope I get back to blogging more once my exams and papers are all done.
I hope I feel rested, just once, this week.
I hope dinner and wine with Candice goes well tonight
I hope I don't eff up the sauerbraten or the brussels sprouts
I hope I get lucky afterward (with Ty, silly)
I hope things in Lybia don't get worse
I hope those kidnapped European cyclists are okay
I hope Elizabeth Taylor Rests in Peace
and
I hope Japan gets better soon
'cause the world needs more stuff like this
Burt Reynolds is Batman
Tried it in highschool and didn't really stick with it. Too much pressure and the kids in my improv class were in a totally different league than my nervous, high-strung, unfunny self was.
I like to think as a laid-back hilarious adult I'd be much better at it, but don't expect to see me out at an improv competition near you.
So nowadays I stick to stuff like old episodes ofWho's Line is It, Anyway? and newer ish like Blouzefest.
Hell, those dudes sing their improv. I could never do that.
Let's start a war
Yes I know it's St. Patrick's Day and yes I know I should be out drinking right now.
But I did a bunch of that last night at the Electric Six concert.Was in the front row with Mz. Bex and a foot away from Dick Valentine and being squashed against the front of the stage and there was me, her, and some other chick and Dick looked down and commented on the force of the crowd pushing on us, saying sarcastically
"these ladies don't need their kidneys"
and I am definitely am feeling it today. My knees are completely purple, I have bruises up and down my legs and torso, and my arms make me look like a victim of domestic abuse.
But it's the best damn Wednesday night activities I've ever gotten into, and even though it's reduced me to yoga pant-wearing, glasses-wearing, couch-lying limbo for tonight I'm okay with that.
'Cause it's not often you see a show that's that effin good.
When we touch, when we kiss
one of my fav bands
at one of my fav venues
with some of my fav people
shit
what am I gonna wear?!
