Thursday, September 29, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
My great-uncle that died was awesome. He was a good man. He trained racehorses. He was a cowboy. A real one. He gave good hugs when I was four. He had the bluest eyes in the family...right after my grandpa.
My uncle--the one pissing on everyone's parade for money--is up to NO GOOD and is an asshat.
I would love to quit both my jobs, ditch my degree, and go to work for the Federal Reserve so we could pay asshat off and NEVER SPEAK TO HIM AGAIN. It's terribly grown-up-feeling to realize you loathe one of your relatives. I love my relatives...and loved this one up until, oh, 7 months ago or so. Now I have no respect...NO RESPECT for him at all. I wish I could tell him what I really think of him. I wish I could knock him over. I wish I could turn him in to the cops. I wish I could make him stand naked in a town square and be pointed and laughed at. I wish I could expose him for the fraud he really is. I wish I could make him hurt as badly as he's hurt all of us over the years.
I look like and feel like 7 miles of bad road. I don't care.
I was just flipping through my paper journal reading through random entries, and I decided I'd give you an inside peek. Sort of. Here are some random quotes and scribblings from years gone by:
I'm waiting for the blood to flow to my fingers,
I'll be alright when my hands get warm.
Ignoring the phone, I'd rather say nothing.
I'd rather you'd never heard my voice.
Too late to be gracious
And you do not warrant long goodbyes.
You're calling too late.
--The Best Deceptions, Dashboard Confessional
"Women, I'll give you a tip...if you tell a guy something this week and he remembers it next week then he's probably the guy for you." --Jay Leno, Tonight Show monologue
"I like individuality. Everyone doesn't have to walk, talk and smell alike." --Moody Brews worker man. In reference to my blue hair and eyebrow ring in 2001.
"...let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be." --The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
"Thank you so much for taking a chance and bringing your sweet face into our lives." --Cathy from East Duplin High School
"Every correspondence is skewered by invisible perforations, the small holes of the unwritten but not the unthought, and as time went on, I hoped fervently that it wasn't a man who was missing from those pages I received every week." --from What I Loved, by Siri Hustvedt
"I don't waste time with 'I don't know.'" --Me
On TV: It's off.
CD: X & Y...Coldplay
Reading: The Diamond Age (for 2 more weeks)...just finished Off with Their Heads, by Maria Tatar.
In my head: Anger and loss.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
I didn't have the energy, presence of mind, or creative flow to do an HNT submission today. I think it's the first one I've missed since maybe the 2nd or 3rd week of HNT. That's a lot of nekkidness. Speaking of nekkidness....I'll give you a story to hold you over until next week.
I've mentioned here before that there's a guy in the night class I teach that lives across the street from me. If you've been visiting this blog for a while you also know that I run around the house in a t-shirt and panties most evenings and early mornings. I forgot to close my garage door when I rolled in the other night, so I proceeded to open the door from the house to the garage in order to push the garage door "close" button. I should mention, crazy neighbor stays outside in his garage most of the time. When I peeked out, I didn't think he was outside at that particular moment. I reached up to push the button just as I realized he was crouched in the driveway talking to a friend in a car, and he was seemingly looking at my naked leg/hip. I expected some smartassy remark in class last night about how I run around unclothed, but he didnt' say anything. Maybe he has more sense than I thought! Not getting my hopes up!
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Sunday, September 18, 2005
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
Saturday, September 17, 2005
It went a little something like this:
I'm drunk. I want money. You've fucked me over royally. The world owes me everything and I shouldn't have to work for it. Send me my money.
He didn't say it exactly that way, but from reading the e-mail and my prior knowledge of his worthlessness, that's what it boiled down to. He sent this overly tacky e-mail to my mom and BLIND CARBON COPIED me. Like he seriously thought I'd feel some sympathy? Give me a fuckin' break. He can rot in the recesses of his own sloth for all I care.
In other news, we had another student/professor party last night (with alcohol). Several of the grad students and a couple of choice undergrads went for drinks at 4:30 (party started at 6:30), so we were feelin' a might toasty by the time we arrived at the party. The "party" was actually a meeting of a scholarly society of faculty and grad students that get together to talk shop (conferences, journal publication, etc.). It looks like it's going to be a beneficial experience and fun to boot. Several of us decided that we were snowed. One of the profs suggested we go grab a drink before the party, and then we all ended up being voted in as officers of the organization. Yep, we got screwed, but it's OK. I'm the webmaster.
Speaking of grad school, check out the new blog I'm particpating in:
"I'm a Grad Student? Since When?"
I'm partnering with the ever delightful Pink Kitty for this one.
Much to report tomorrow, but now I must pass out.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Admittedly, I love rooting around in the depths of my brain for cool research topics (working on two right now....the relationship between fairy tales and comics and a paper tentatively titled: Chick Lit.: Pop Culture's Princess, Literature's Bastard Stepdaughter). However, I think my interests will ultimately be better suited to publication in more mainstream venues. I wanna write a book like Catherine Orenstein's Little Red Riding Hood Uncloaked, and less like Bruno Bettleheim's coma-inducing musings. I wanna write for magazines, I wanna write for newspapers occasionally, I wanna write a novel and get the bitch published. I want to write for YOU and get paid.
In short, I wanna be Jennifer Weiner. It's been a while since I've gotten to keep up with my favorite author blogs, but since things are starting to become routine, I find that I have a minute here or there to catch up. Jennifer W. has her first book-to-movie, In Her Shoes, coming out in a few weeks. The book is great. Read it. Everyone. Now. The movie looks to be a star in the midst of Hollywood's recent flood of dreck.
Who's to say that I won't write a widely read and accepted book someday?? Weird shit happens to me.
Note: I don't think that all thinkers/writers fall into the category of Media Whore or Scholar. That's simply an oversimplified way of looking at it that amused me enough to write this post before I have to go teach developmental writing. (19 minutes and counting)
On TV: No TV.
Music: Rascal Flatts in my head, with a side of Bruce Hornsby
Reading: Diamond Age (Stephenson), Off With Their Heads (Tatar)
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
Bluebeard, by Gwen Strauss
Come, love, and show me
the small key to my turret-chamber,
Yesterday, in a far off place,
I heard a door scrape a threshold
and the cold clank of metal on stone.
Today, I am returned.
And what, my bride, is this? A stain?
Blood? Again betrayal.
When you arrived in my castle yard,
a country virgin dressed in Paris silks,
I opened all rooms to you but that one,
trusted you with my keys to leave untouched
the one dark corner where I go alone.
Each woman I destroyed, I loved
with infinite tenderness.
Each woman gave herself complete
to me in death, because, as you will find,
there is no freedom greater.
Pain and pleasure are but a moment to either.
Remember the wedding night. In the end,
I will leave no part of you untouched.
In that far place, remember me,
how I remain a prisoner of a little room,
searching for one who loves me as I love.
Andi says: Spoken like a true serial killer.
To do tomorrow:
Observe a lit. crit. class
Class from 2-7
Sniff out an article for next week's Oral Trad. class
Pray that I don't flub up my shit for Research Methods
On TV: Encino Man...a modern classic (tongue ever-so-firmly in cheek)
Music: Rascal Flatts....The Broken Road
Reading: The Diamond Age (Stephenson)
Sunday, September 11, 2005
I've spent the better part of the day reading fairy tales from the 19th and 20th centuries and lots of criticism of fairy tales in general. Expect a blog redesign soon with a bit of a fractured fairy tale theme. Expect moody black, white, and red. My signature colors.
I would dearly love to stay up and read and watch TV and be generally slothful, but I can't keep my eyes open any longer.
On TV: Nada
Music: Damien Rice...Volcano
Reading: The Diamond Age (Stephenson) and The Watertower (can't remember the author)
Saturday, September 10, 2005
by Susan Mitchell
In March I dreamed of mud,
sheets of mud over the ballroom chairs and table,
rainbow slicks of mud under the throne.
In April I saw mud of clouds and mud of sun.
Now in May I find excuses to linger in the kitchen
for wafts of silt and ale,
cinnamon and river bottom,
tender scallion and sour underlog.
At night I cannot sleep.
I am listening for the dribble of mud
climbing the stairs to our bedroom
as if a child in a wet bathing suit ran
up them in the dark.
Last night I said, "Face it, you're bored
How many times can you live over
with the same excitement
that moment when the princess leans into the well, her face a petal
falling to the surface of the water
as you rise like a bubble to her lips,
the golden ball bursting from your mouth?"
Remember how she hurled you against the wall,
your body cracking open,
skin shrivelling to the bone,
the green pod of your heart splitting in two,
and her face imprinted with every moment of your
I no longer tremble.
Night after night I lie beside her.
"Why is your forehead so cool and damp?" she asks.
Her breasts are soft and dry as flour.
The hand that brushes my head is feverish.
At her touch I long for wet leaves,
the slap of water against rocks.
"What were you thinking of?" she asks.
How can I tell her I am thinking of the green skin
shoved like wet pants behind the Directoire desk?
Or tell her I am mortgaged to the hilt
of my sword, to the leek-green tip of my soul?
Someday I will drag her by her hair
to the river--and what? Drown her?
Show her the green flame of my self rising at her feet?
But there's no more violence in her
than in a fence or a gate.
"What are you thinking of?" she whispers.
I am staring into the garden.
I am watching the moon
wind its trail of golden slime around the oak,
over the stone basin of the fountain.
How can I tell her
I am thinking that transformations are not forever?
Thursday, September 08, 2005
D. surprised me with a visit. YAY!!!! It SO made up for the accident. I was totally shocked and ecstatic! Interview went well. Thanks for all the crossed parts.
*big smiley ear-to-ear toothy cheesey million-dolla' grin*
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
I saw an article on MSN today entitled: 10 Things Teachers Need. Well, it wasn't what I thought it was going to be, so I'm making my own list. Here's my top 10 list of things teachers MUST have.
10. A defibrillator - for those days when there are fights and/or bouts of projectile vomiting in class. Not to mention Halloween and April Fool's jokes.
9. Eyes in the back of their heads - refer to #10, and I'm sure you can think of a host of other reasons why these would be helpful.
8. A censor "bleeeep" - built in, so that when they go home from a long day of wrangling students (traditional or non) they don't offend their family, neighbors, and dog with the long string of curse words that inevitably erupts from the mouth (the result of a long while holding it back....sorta like Tourette's).
7. A lifetime supply of Mr. Bubble - bubble baths help soothe tension headaches and general pissiness.
6. A good dental plan - the gnashing of teeth is a bitch.
5. A dependable manicurist - readily available for the removal of chalk and dry erase marker dust from under the nails and the cuticle area.
4. Therapist - someone to pass all the horror stories and lame excuses to once family and friends begin to stay at least five miles away from said teacher.
3. A pettable dog - because spouses will only let you rub their ears for so long as a means of stress relief.
2. Magna-doodle - on which to draw obscene caricatures of pesky students.
1. Condoms - to prevent the spread of the little rat bastards.
On TV: Michael Bolton singing Georgia (I don't care if he did have funny hair....his voice is like raspy butta)
Music: see above
Reading: literary criticism shtuff
Me: "I'm still a Christian, I just think people are stupid." (Not all people...this was in reference to Dubya.)
Mom: "I'm sure Jesus understands. I'm sure he's up there saying, 'Girl, I know some of my children aren't the smartest.'"
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Monday, September 05, 2005
TV: Family Guy
Reading: Critical Terms to Literary Study; an Arab version of Cinderella
In my head: Natural sleep. No pharmaceuticals needed.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
I feel unsettled!!! Maybe it's because I have to teach a lab at 9am. Bosslady is already e-mailing everyone to set up days to observe, and while I truly believe she wants to offer helpful feedback as opposed to jumping our asses for things we're doing wrong, it's unnerving. I get nervous about that kind of thing because I always want it to go so well (perfectionist).
In the spirit of restlessness, I've been jackin' with the comments feature. I thought I'd give haloscan a whirl since I'm SICK of the word verification, but I miss seeing all the past comments listed (and the e-mail verification), so it may not last long. We'll see.
I want a new look for the blog, but I can't decide what I want it to be. I had a blogfrock all picked out that went right along with my fractured fairy tale obsession, but blogfrocks went kaput. Woe is me.
I'm boring myself.
Note: The half-nekkid man up top is Eric Mabius. The real reason I watch Resident Evil over and over and over. Kinda looks like Gavin Degraw (baby daddy). That explains it.
On TV: GAC
Music: Son of a Gun, Janet Jackson
Reading: Folk & Fairy Tales
In my head: HORNS
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Ago-go is one of my favorite blog peeps for a great many reasons a few of which include:
1. She's make-me-pee funny.
2. Wicked sassy.
3. Intimidatingly intelligent.
4. Kind enough to keep us all stocked up on bellydancing photos.
Ago-go, you are truly one of the royalest of blog goddesses, and I love reading your blog every day. You are one of my addictions! I hope you had a wonderful birthday filled with good laughs, good friends, gummy worm birthday dessert, and naked men.
For once, someone has not done something to piss me off personally, but I'm second hand pissed off. This homage to mean people sucking, which should actually be titled Mean, Heartless, Blood Sucking Bastards Suck, is for D. This is me giving the finger to the bastard assholes that run his apartment complex. May they all meet a violent death that leaves them mangled and eaten by wildlife. People REALLY suck!
Friday, September 02, 2005
Seven:things that are in my fridge right now...
1. Lemon meringue pie (yummm)
2. Sliced deli turkey
3. ‘Picy Mootard (spicy mustard)
4. Diet root beer
5. Leftover baked chicken
6. Diet Caffeine-Free Coke and Diet Caffeine-Free Dr. Pepper
7. Flower seeds
Television programs that are on my 'Now Playing List' on my TiVo...I don't have TiVo but if I did….
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Brat Camp
3. 30-Minute Meals with Rachel Ray
4. The Daily Show
5. Family Guy
6. American Dad
7 of the items in my lingerie drawer….
1. “Martini” panties….white with varied martinis on them
2. The best pushup bra in the WORLD. Crimson and paisley.
3. VERY FEW thongs. Anal floss is the devil.
4. Red corset and panty set.
5. My favorite pink babydoll.
6. A black body stocking that goes great with any little dress.
7. Some bills.
Things I should be doing right now, instead of wasting time on the computer...
4. Eating my lemon meringue pie
7. Prepping for Monday’s labs
I'm listening to Trent Lott on CNN right now. He's sympathizing with the Katrina victims because he's been through a number of hurricanes, tornados, and ice storms he says (and we all know that's the same). He says, "People get upset and hurt when they don't have food, water, or a bath for three or four days." FUCK YOU, Trent Lott. What about the dead bodies, the snipers, and the raw sewage??? What about the people hovering on rooftops waiting for someone to save them??
Mr. Lott is perfectly happy with government response to Katrina. Mr. Lott continues to insist "I don't mean to minimize what these people are going through..." as he goes on to say, "but they've just lost everything they have and they're mad." THEY'RE DYING YOU FUCKRAG!!!
I have never been so pissed off at the government in my entire life. Some may say the complaining doesn't do any good, but if it takes a truckload of bitching from the American people to get something done, so be it. I feel it our job as citizens to NEVER let the government off easy. Make your voices heard and get results.
My university will be taking on approximately 500 displaced students from the affected Gulf Coast areas in the next weeks. Reunion Arena is being used to house evacuees, and if you'd like to help go see The American Red Cross.