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| A sad notice:
There are 7 days left in your FREE trial... at the end of the free trial your xanga site will
*automatically* revert back to the free xanga classic settings.
Seems to me that means no more argyle-inspired xanga skin, unless I shovel in some $25. I cannot, for I am paying to maintain the remnant you'll find here. Roy Speaking's blog has been located and redisplayed, but it is missing a good number of entries and a bit of script. And seriously, the design over there has got to go. I don't know what I was thinking. And I don't know when I'll have time to do anything about it. Yeah, seminar papers.
Sup y'all. I returned on Wednesday. I have a houseguest already, but I really like this one. Yesterday we hit Joe's Pizza and Magnolia ("Snack attack, muthafucka!"). Now there are three more days to fill with notable TV spots. No.
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| I don't particularly care to post a holiday loot entry, but I'm pretty excited about the expansion of my still-rather-modest DVD collection, and very hopeful about the direction it's taking. Gifts in the DVD category included the complete Aeon Flux; Six Feet Under seasons 2 and 3; Arrested Development season 2; Miyazaki's Castle in the Sky (which definitely has an early-career feel, but was still exceptional) and Spirited Away; Almodóvar's La mala educación/Bad Education; and finally, the surprisingly comforting, entertaining, and exhaustive Oprah Winfrey Show 20th Anniversary 6-disc boxed set. I have watched 5 of them. Girl.
So, heavy on the TV end (props, postmodernism), but quality on the feature end. Still to come are more Almodóvar films (which means purchasing Todo sobre mi madre for the third time, never to be lent again, you kleptos), some Wong Kar Wai, Y tu mamá tambien, some Julio Meden, and more films in which Ewan McGregor exposes himself.
All of this implies that I will never read another book again. Indeed, I did not receive a single book this year, and I used a bookstore giftcard to buy DVDs. I had a dream the night before last that we were spontaneously examined at school, and I did not pass, and I was asked to leave. I enjoy a weird glitch of the consciousness, from which a dizzying gestalt necessarily ensues (re: hsugrits comment, last entry), that requires that I take everything I dreamed overnight and accept it as reality during the first few minutes that I'm awake--thus, in the wee hours, I've often thought myself to be a furniture salesperson; a swordsman; a woman; just back from a trek through Siberia; quite apt in an orgy; and, now, a Ph.D. flunky. Could it have something to do with two pending seminar papers? In your dreams.
I observerd the New Year's arrival at my aunt Olga's trailer in Homestead, Fl. Because she lived in a large house with her abusive husband for most of her 30 years in the U.S., my family, particularly my father, finds her new status as trailer-park maven tartly funny. Hence he's issued her the title "Olga, La Trailera," and that is fucking hilarious. Hooray for Spanglish neo-adjectives.
Unresolutions: to give more; to join hsugrits and no_absolutes at the gym, at least once to learn the ropes (I'm not intent on interrupting the delicate balance that keeps that healthful partnership going); to do more work and be more proud of my accomplishments heretofore for the purpose of accomplishing more feats of what the establishment naively and falsely construes as Academic Excellence that is actually Academic Contention (sorry Eve Sedgewick); to write at least an outline of the to-be-cinematically-adapted fiction bestseller that will allow me to buy my parents out of debt and into a kitchen with decent cabinets. Still nix on the grandchildren, mom. And I ain't sorry.
Esta noche I will dine at Nicolette's mansion with her fantastic family, then hit the strip so I can get another kiss from that Colombian dancer. I'll spend the night with the dancer, or at Nicolette's, probably Nicolette's, and we'll head to the beach in the morning, where I will be donning a new swimsuit that I will buy: lycra trunks in green and darker green. Badunk. | | |
| I made this blog so I can comment at hsugrits, but as it happens, my regular blog is lost in the nevernet (strike?), and it could be a while before Roy Speaking speaks once more.
So here I am, rocking a purple and black template that requires an argyle background, if I do say so. Anyone know where I can get an argyle background? Help a blogger out.
This vacation has been quite vacation-like, which is bad news as I've still got two papers to write. Leisure activities have included a morning at the shooting range with dad (D: "You want to go to the shooting range?" R: "No.... Yes. Yes, I really do." Bang, bang). At no point was I seized by an ethical dilemma. A shooting range in fact feels like a manifestation of gun control. And with a little more practice and expertise, I can finally open the Are Oh Why School for Scholars Packing Heat.
And I've finally stepped out into Miami night life, which had eluded me for years, this being the site of my not-at-all-prurient adolescence. One dancer at Twist gave me a kiss and whispered "Thank you, baby" in my ear. I want one.
Now I'm at Borders "writing" another "paper" about which I'm not particularly excited. How do I get myself into these things? And what the hell will I write for this 18th C course I'm taking next semester? I need an angle, and this aesthetics of social difference thing isn't taking off. Probably because I don't read. Seriously, I think I've forgotten how. I've become very good at sex and shopping, though. I hate you, holidays. (Yes, this is a call for help.) | | |
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