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mountainous heathen!
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holly girl jennyman cyrus boyk sina boy robert reich honey jaan Prufrock If Afraid So Today's poem |
~ Wednesday, September 28, 2005
luck to jenny (take three) today was a beautiful day. i had no trouble getting up and going to the library. except i came home and crashed into a great nap after lunch. i also stole the micro book from the library. i hope no one else in the class is without a book, because we have a midterm tomorrow. in fact, i stole it precisely because we have a midterm tomorrow. it's justified in my mind, and well worth the 5 dollar fine. rangineh calls me "kakoo" because one time i called her "khohar". i think i should start calling sina "dodosh". i like "dodosh" the best. lys got a respiratory infection, so we haven't seen him for a while. a while being a week. lucky are those who have three hours of lab with him. jenny leaves us tomorrow for her pilgrimage; her joseph campbell's rite of spring and duel with her inner monster. today she forgot that her dad left the country, and got real surprised when she "found out." silly jenny, trix are for kids. and who better to see her off? P.O.E. ~ Thursday, September 22, 2005
luck to jenny (take two) photographers have this strange kinship with the photos they take. even if it's only snapshots they took when their brother in law took them sailing. he'll be asked months later, "were you there when we went sailing?" and he'll say, ofcourse i was, i took all the pictures. "aw, it's a shame you're not in any of them." and he'll get real surpised and say he's in the pictures more than anyone. that's his window, his eyes on paper. if anyone knows a person who speaks a creole language or a farfetched uncommon language, please notify me. i'm in desperate search of someone to latch onto for my phonetics project. the homework that's due today only deals with speech analysis in wavesurfer, and i can't figure out how to coordinate windows for the life of me. but it's fascinating. indian rock is surprisingly not that far. khushboo says 20 minutes, but i think it takes us a bit longer. i have to start going more often. i think it's a big contributor to those nights that i just pass out and don't hear anything all night. natural nyquil. going in to cermics is becoming increasingly difficult. i work in the afternoons, and it's very hard to go after 5, mainly because i just wanna go home by then, and partially because i can never find a free wheel after 5. i should start working in the mornings. so many ideas that mean nothing unless made into clay. and lastly, jenny's dying. she's been dying for a week now, and i've resisted being pulled down with her for just as long. today is the last day of her sickness. or so she "decided" last night. she will get a 175, or so i have decided just now. ~ Thursday, September 15, 2005
luck to jenny (take one) jenny says i've become mean since my return from summer vacation and i believe her. then again, she's the first to agree that being nice is meaningless, almost fake. "why do i have to be nice?" i remember her saying when tina thought she didn't like her. aw, i miss tina. today i saw a girl that looked like her, and i was overwhelmed with a desire to run up to her and ask her if her hair was heavy. jenny's reading right now. the book has a very long title. she read me a line that illustrated how fully well her life is scripted in these books. i paused and asked her how she finds these books. she said, hmmm? i think they come to her like fireflies. or she to them. anyway, i've never seen it work so beautifully. for a moment i thought she was her dad sitting there with her legs stretched reading. mainly becuase her profile is much like his, and because she's sick and when she caughs she sounds like a man, but partially because i remember her dad sitting to water flowers by the pool. ~ Thursday, September 01, 2005
a saint in every dream august has come and gone and left us. once again. and it's been a while since i posted, which is normal i guess. it's hard to write here coherently; i'm always tempted to not flow, not make sense, not make it into an actual journal. then again, you might say, i already don't make sense and don't flow, to which i have nothing to say. classes are interesting enough, but something seems to be missing in them. the financial aid office will help me find that certain something in the form of a work study job, a lab job if you will. i want to quit my current one. ceramics will help too, just as soon as i start going in regularly. i miss pedersen and i wish i'd just have the nerve to go and say hello to him. i'll make myself do it one of these days. you know, the threshold of pride and of realizing that he's just a wee human like myself. happy birthday charlie. you're not a teenager anymore. my desk is dusty and cluttered. jenny must glare at it everyday. even though she says she doesn't care, and probably doesn't. i still come around to the idea. it's probably me glaring at it myself. i wonder what beethoven did when he was angry. he couldn't have just gotten up from cold sweats and started to write, he had to have had down time where the anger wouldn't be able to give way to symphonies. anger has its limits too, you know. | |