I should also mention....
...that D. came to the poetry reading with me, and he didn't run screaming from the place when he met my friends and heard the bad poetry. He was the cutest dressed as 3-hole punch paper...just like that fuzzy guy from The Office. Fabulous! I'll post more pics soon.
On TV: None at work.
Music: Dave Matthews Band....American Baby
Reading: My new addiction....PM's livejournal.
In my head: Angsty angst.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Edgar Allen Poe'try Reading, 2005
My first time wearing fake eyelashes, but it will NOT be the last!
Rick...looking like something straight out of Deliverance.
Dan as...himself. The disgruntled graduate student/musician.
PM and the boobs of doom.
Me...as Satan. It was a black ball gown, red cape, and the red hair as you can see. I wimped out on the corset, although, now I wish I'd worn it for an extra touch of vampy.
My first time wearing fake eyelashes, but it will NOT be the last!
Rick...looking like something straight out of Deliverance.
Dan as...himself. The disgruntled graduate student/musician.
PM and the boobs of doom.
Me...as Satan. It was a black ball gown, red cape, and the red hair as you can see. I wimped out on the corset, although, now I wish I'd worn it for an extra touch of vampy.
My Ass is Dragging
Halloween Merriment and General Angst
2.5 pages of my prospectus is DONE, along with 1.5 pages of the Works Cited/Consulted page. And my fucking hell, I'm getting a new laptop this weekend if it kills me. It would be SO nice to see the entire screen as I'm typing my 25 page paper, 6 page prospectus, long-ass annotated bibliography, long-ass bibliographic essay. You get the picture.
But enough about my sad life as a graduate student.
The fun stuff: I was apparently ultra-hot in my red eyeshadow (also known as lipliner) at the Edgar Allen Poe'try reading because my friend and colleague...we'll call her Bet...said I was really hot and if I'd worn my corset (yes, I punked out) she might've taken advantage of me right there on the pumpkin tarts. Yay me.
I've never heard quite so much bad poetry in my life. Don't get me wrong....there was a good deal of really good poetry, too, but there was a fair amount of poetry that made me think that nipple twisting and a hot poker up my ass might've been more pleasant. Just a guess. Pretty sure.
I won't comment on the specifics of the bad poetry because I don't want to offend anyone. Several of my drinkin' buddies/colleagues/fellow graduate students now have this address, so I have to be...possibly...a little nicer than usual. They'd agree with me on all the shit I talk, but you never know when the address might fall into the hands of the dark side.
*making the sign of the cross*
Pics coming...probably tomorrow. I would do it now, but I have dial-up and it would take an hour to download the big effers.
In the meantime, here's another of my drawings.
If you can't read it, it says, "The Writing Process: Jeremy Brainstorming." He really looks like that when he brainstorms, too.
On TV: Probably something, but I have it turned off.
Music: Meh.
Reading: Scholarly journals.
In my head: Snot residue and sleep.
2.5 pages of my prospectus is DONE, along with 1.5 pages of the Works Cited/Consulted page. And my fucking hell, I'm getting a new laptop this weekend if it kills me. It would be SO nice to see the entire screen as I'm typing my 25 page paper, 6 page prospectus, long-ass annotated bibliography, long-ass bibliographic essay. You get the picture.
But enough about my sad life as a graduate student.
The fun stuff: I was apparently ultra-hot in my red eyeshadow (also known as lipliner) at the Edgar Allen Poe'try reading because my friend and colleague...we'll call her Bet...said I was really hot and if I'd worn my corset (yes, I punked out) she might've taken advantage of me right there on the pumpkin tarts. Yay me.
I've never heard quite so much bad poetry in my life. Don't get me wrong....there was a good deal of really good poetry, too, but there was a fair amount of poetry that made me think that nipple twisting and a hot poker up my ass might've been more pleasant. Just a guess. Pretty sure.
I won't comment on the specifics of the bad poetry because I don't want to offend anyone. Several of my drinkin' buddies/colleagues/fellow graduate students now have this address, so I have to be...possibly...a little nicer than usual. They'd agree with me on all the shit I talk, but you never know when the address might fall into the hands of the dark side.
*making the sign of the cross*
Pics coming...probably tomorrow. I would do it now, but I have dial-up and it would take an hour to download the big effers.
In the meantime, here's another of my drawings.
If you can't read it, it says, "The Writing Process: Jeremy Brainstorming." He really looks like that when he brainstorms, too.
On TV: Probably something, but I have it turned off.
Music: Meh.
Reading: Scholarly journals.
In my head: Snot residue and sleep.
I'm alive! Barely!
I'm alive!! Barely!!
Yeah, you heard me. I'm alive. Busy, but alive. I'm
neck deep in a prospectus for Research Methods and I'm
slacking in all my other classes.
The Edgar Allen Poe'try reading was FUN. We had a
blast, and I'll post pics soon.
Off to act like I'm workin'.
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