Don’t you sometimes wonder
why you don’t make mexican food every night?
imminent tostada destruction
especially when the tofu turns out so strangely wrong?
it CAME like that
Monday, August 29, 2005
Saturday, August 27, 2005
too much of reading
Was he just drunk and melancholy from the sunset? Careless and exhausted? In any way suicidal? Maybe there was some problem with his time-share condos in Mazatlan, or maybe he was just thinking about his largest catch of the day, a six-foot barracuda drawn up on a bottom-trolling line, photographed by my dad with its eyes exploded and its guts looped out from the rapid decompression, still twisting on the hook with an expression of final surprise.
“Nachos,” sang Mrs. Linden.
Funny. I’ve almost forgotten what it is like to read for pleasure. Why am I reading for pleasure? Because my eyes are fucked up from trying to decipher what students are handwriting in their in-class essays (I never thought I would look forward to getting the final papers- 60 of them- soley because they are typed) and because I like being reminded I know interesting and accomplished people. It helps me justify leaving my former life and accepting the current state I’m in. We all make choices, right?
“Nachos,” sang Mrs. Linden.
Funny. I’ve almost forgotten what it is like to read for pleasure. Why am I reading for pleasure? Because my eyes are fucked up from trying to decipher what students are handwriting in their in-class essays (I never thought I would look forward to getting the final papers- 60 of them- soley because they are typed) and because I like being reminded I know interesting and accomplished people. It helps me justify leaving my former life and accepting the current state I’m in. We all make choices, right?
I now have to swallow my pride and email the graduate coordinator and tell her I’m going to miss the deadline to submit thesis again. Fucking humiliating. I am now resigned to the situation, and will no longer flip out, ignore phonecalls from friends, and sit in self-pity over my lack of discipline.
Tonight I go to LA to sit on a roof top and suck in its sticky air and talk to more interesting and accomplished people. Last year I brought a date who was brilliant and funny (he was a writer for the Simpsons) but an absolutely crazy fuck who had to be seperated from the masses to preserve the peace. This time I will be able to relax and just be with my friends and complain about the heat and drink almost too much tequila. I can’t wait.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Mystery solved
So this is how they do it.
Above: LaMere unleashes the Eye of Surr-Vey’s power, violently rezoning a residential area into a landfill.
“I don’t think what he’s doing is mere magic. I think it’s darkest bureaucromancy.”
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Dear bitch down the hall,
I’m just jealous but please don’t:
1- walk by every three seconds trying to figure out what I’m doing in the office. YOU’VE SEEN ME HERE BEFORE. For like, a year. I have got the fucking right to use this dinky airless cube.
2- print out all 120 pages of your dissertation and use up all the paper in the printer. Steal printing privileges in a department not your own, like the rest of us.
3- lock the door to room with said printer and my hot water source for the green tea and hot chocolate which are the only things keeping me alive and semi-sane at this point. Please follow the request of the fucking post-it. I even put a fucking smiley face on it, for fuck’s sake.
Please just don’t do it, you prim little dried up twin-set wearing uber-t.a. graduate student. Just don’t.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Everyday
I say it’s going to be a ten page day, and it never is. I am an IDIOT.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
What I’ve been doing today
besides being BORED bored BORED by my work is loopily emailing friends:
Beets just not cutting it anymore. it was beets and apples and carrots all shredded together. Very good but sweet and not filling or fatty enough despite light sesame oil and fig balsamic dressing. also added that stuff you have - the salt/ sesame seed/ garlic mixture- that shit is fucking brilliant! I want some. I’m going to put it on everything! EVERYTHING! YUM! AAAHHH.
you are now allowed to send email about porsches.
Desyl
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
Signs
I guess it’s a pretty good indication that one needs to get back to work when long-ass post about croissants and pms and Love’s Baby Soft gets erased when trying to google-image “out-of-control boobs.” Girl, it’s a sign.
Saturday, August 6, 2005
Senryu for the day
Rubric guides the mark
Future teacher dreams dispelled
In hands of hormones
