Eva Cassidy, take me away....
Thank God for Eva Cassidy. I think I might be having a nervous breakdown right about now if it weren't for her and the promise of yummy sexual fantasies when I lay down in a minute. Actually, screw the sex fantasies (no pun intended). I'm too tired. That's damn tired. I spent the entire weekend in my pajamas doing schoolwork because I got nothing done Friday. I still haven't even looked at a paper for the classes I'm teaching, but one must prioritize.
Fuck the grad-talk...you can go to I'm a Grad Student? Since When? to read about that stuff. I reserve this space for narcissism and utter crap. Watch me crap. Here I go:
There are ABSOLUTELY NO good movies playing in theaters right now. Well, The Brothers Grimm and The Man look like they might be good, but I've seen so much shit roll through the box office lately that I'm unenthused about movie-going. I prefer to pull ole trusties from my DVD cabinets and entertain myself with nostalgia and chick flicks. I watched Great Expectations this weekend. I'm quite sure it's no one's idea of a great cinematic endeavor, but I like it anyway (if I pretend I never read the book and act like I don't know they fucked it all up). Ethan Hawke has that dumb, useless look about him, and Gwyneth makes a wonderfully vapid Estella (my namesake).
Sing on, Eva. Sing on.
TV: Just finished watching The Two Towers
Reading: Struwwelpeter (Hoffman), The Diamond Age (Stephenson), Off with Their Heads! (Tatar)
In my head: beaded strings of curse words
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