Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
what better can we do...
I feel dead.
But it’s not as dramatic as all that.
I reconnected with somebody last week with whom I had not spoken in eight years. She had a severe impact on my life, back then. What matters to you, likely, nobody else remembers.
It goes that way.
I ended up in Westchester with Mike on Sunday, which was a nice respite from my life. Those were the best hours; the last, though, are always clocks ticking. People who see you every day take so much of you for granted. They don’t ever see you walk away. They don’t see you drifting. It’s in the periphery.
I think only strangers really look at you anymore. Like babies, they don’t know any better.
“Oh my god,” said a man on the train in Hartsdale yesterday. “You look like Debbie Harry.”
But it’s not as dramatic as all that.
I reconnected with somebody last week with whom I had not spoken in eight years. She had a severe impact on my life, back then. What matters to you, likely, nobody else remembers.
It goes that way.
I ended up in Westchester with Mike on Sunday, which was a nice respite from my life. Those were the best hours; the last, though, are always clocks ticking. People who see you every day take so much of you for granted. They don’t ever see you walk away. They don’t see you drifting. It’s in the periphery.
I think only strangers really look at you anymore. Like babies, they don’t know any better.
“Oh my god,” said a man on the train in Hartsdale yesterday. “You look like Debbie Harry.”
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
give Crash a break, yo
Annie Proulx is pissed about the Oscars. bitching about beautiful rich people handing out accolades to other beautiful rich people? it didn't go your way? awww.
it's strange. i've heard nothing but negative comments about the movie Crash since it won Best Picture. it got ripped apart in my women's(read: gender/race) studies class last week. "it promotes racial stereotypes" well, unfortunately, stereotypes happen. "it was written by a white guy" Canadian white guy, mind you.
interestingly, the female producer (who received one of the Best Picture Oscars) never actually got paid for working on the film. gender stereotypes you say...?
i don't know. i saw it twice in the theater (the first time alone, the second, with my then-"boyfriend" Mike) didn't anybody listen to the dialogue?
if you're going to bitch about it, bitch about the snow. that was a bit Hollywood.
it's strange. i've heard nothing but negative comments about the movie Crash since it won Best Picture. it got ripped apart in my women's(read: gender/race) studies class last week. "it promotes racial stereotypes" well, unfortunately, stereotypes happen. "it was written by a white guy" Canadian white guy, mind you.
interestingly, the female producer (who received one of the Best Picture Oscars) never actually got paid for working on the film. gender stereotypes you say...?
i don't know. i saw it twice in the theater (the first time alone, the second, with my then-"boyfriend" Mike) didn't anybody listen to the dialogue?
if you're going to bitch about it, bitch about the snow. that was a bit Hollywood.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
also, i can kill you with my brain.
i don't really know what the hell i'm doing with my life. which is fun.
when i was eight, i wanted to paint stripes on my face, don a fur-lined unitard and sing jellicle songs for jellicle cats. that, i thought, was a reasonable thing to do with one's life. but then, that was 1988.
in a lovely turn of events, the temperature hit a sweltering 65 degrees this weekend. i, of course, spent the better part of my day shut up in the stale air of an auditorium taking a three-and-a-half-hour proficiency exam. it's fun being told that you can't go to the bathroom.
also fun: panic attacks in computer science. holding back unexplainable tears in a crowded subway.
normality is relative they say.
related: i'm in the middle of The Tempest.
at least my laptop shipped.
when i was eight, i wanted to paint stripes on my face, don a fur-lined unitard and sing jellicle songs for jellicle cats. that, i thought, was a reasonable thing to do with one's life. but then, that was 1988.
in a lovely turn of events, the temperature hit a sweltering 65 degrees this weekend. i, of course, spent the better part of my day shut up in the stale air of an auditorium taking a three-and-a-half-hour proficiency exam. it's fun being told that you can't go to the bathroom.
also fun: panic attacks in computer science. holding back unexplainable tears in a crowded subway.
normality is relative they say.
related: i'm in the middle of The Tempest.
at least my laptop shipped.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
