December 23, 2009
So I seem to be back in Rock Island again. This is definitely a setback to my sanity. Plus, my mother has been pushing cookies upon me like a crack dealer to a third grader. This is, of course, despite my handicap of generally disliking sweets. I’m weird, okay? Speaking of which, the greatest activity since being home has been the completion of the Xanadune Cycle. What’s this, you ask? It’s a recursion of cinematic glory. The algorithm goes something like this: watch Xanadu, Dune, Xanadu, Dune, Xanadu, Dune, back and forth until they become one entity: Xanadune. The Cycle is then complete, you have lost your sanity, and suddenly Rock Island doesn’t seem so bad.
In other news, Christmas has been all but cancelled in my little house on the Rock. Although I must admit I am now the proud owner of a new netbook. This is more out of necessity than holiday spirit, however, as my old laptop was truly toeing the edge. Really. It was missing a key or two, could barely keep its screen up, and was on the verge of senility. Youth steps in to save the day, and that’s really what Christmas is all about, right? Wait, no, that’s the pagan holiday of Easter. Keep mixin’ my metaphors. Well, when in Rome.
Listening to: blah blah blah blah FIVE GOLDEN RINGS, etc etc. (that’s for you, Bob)
P.S. For those of you who might not know, I have again ridded myself of Facebook. Hopefully this blog will turn into a legitimate source of information about my adventures abroad. That or I’ll get into Twitter. Ha!
December 19, 2009
The semester’s over. Finally got in a good Dune-watching. Remind me not to have children with David Lynch. It could be the next Alia.
Don’t ask me how I stumbled upon that site. Usually the only thoughts I have about babies are 1) how I should stop swearing around them so much, and 2) mmm dinner.
Well, that’s enough terrible for today. Back to Rock Island on the 23rd (Wednesday), off to Sweden on the 14th (January).
Listening to: Foolin’, Devendra Banhart (followed by In The Flesh by Pink Floyd, which I thought was a particularly amusing switch)
December 12, 2009
So this is probably because it’s finals week(end), I haven’t been to the grocery store since before Thanksgiving break, I’ve been working up a 3 a.m. hunger after working on a research paper for most of the night, and please note that I also do not normally enjoy sweets (candies, jams, desserts, pies [except pumpkin], chocolate, etc, etc), but I’ve discovered something delicious. Brain-dead and staring at my pantry I proceeded to combine the following four items: Vasa rye crackers, Nutella, honey, and a dash of cinnamon. Then I ate said combination and it was epic.
Now it’s time to meditate and go to bed.
Listening to: What Would I Want? Sky, Animal Collective
December 3, 2009
Attention: Saturday, December 12 is the Montage Literary Arts Journal release event. The event will be starting at 7 pm at the Cafe Paradiso in Urbana, IL. This will also be the first opportunity to pick up the newly printed fall 2009 edition of the journal. It’s a particularly exciting event for me as one of my pieces is being published in this edition. The piece is a poem titled, “The Buttonmaker” – a pseudo-ekphrastic on a character from Henrik Ibsen’s Peer Gynt (finally an Ibsen reference! this blog hasn’t seen that in ages). There’s a lot of other good stuff this semester as well. So, you know, come pick up a copy and have a read. I hope to see the all encompassing “you” there!
December 3, 2009
I recently recovered a collection of flash fiction entitled “The Exploits of Mr. Tuesday,” which I had written in high school. Many of the stories were extremely odd, had nothing to do with the character in question, and/or made no sense at all. I have decided to post one of my favorites – a story that did actually have some coherency and that was, in fact, about the title character. Behold: an exploit of Mr. Tuesday…
“I need your phone,” said Mr. Tuesday. He’d been clutching a hand to his neck for going near fifteen minutes and had decided that he really needed to use a phone after those fifteen minutes. Of course, he would have desired to use a phone earlier if the opportunity had been provided, which it had not. The secretary gave him a proper stare, more judgmental than quizzical. She tapped her finger on her chin. Once, twice, and for another minute or so. “It’s slightly urgent,” iterated Mr. Tuesday, to which the secretary replied, “Yes, I can see that,” and continued to stare. At this point Mr. Tuesday took it upon himself to rip the phone from the desk and apply it to his neck, which had been bleeding profusely for the past quarter of an hour, as a band-aid. “Thank you,” he tried to say, then promptly passed out from the loss of blood. This was not his day.
Listening to: E18, Detektivbyrån
Trying to: go to sleep.