I Dreamed of You on my Farm
Songs of the Hour: Red by Okkervil River, assorted Modest Mouse
Before I go too ramble crazy, do something for me. Have you ever heard of a sand artist? I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. Watching this guy is like being on acid– but without the backache. Seriously, if the artistic minded would do me a favor, and let me know exactly how much talent it takes to do what he does, I’d appreciate it. I’m amazed– but then again, perhaps I’m easily impressed. You HAVE to see this guy. I don’t mean like you saw my new friend Delilah months ago, because none of you did and i was very disappointed in you. She knew, and it hurt her feelings. I forgive you, but whatever gods and karmas you believe in may not. I’m just saying. If you feel bad enough now, your last chance is here. If you don’t find that to be a novel and interesting take on Prayer, then something is wrong with you. Seriously wrong. And check out the sand artist– let me know if you’re as fascinated as I am.
Hmmm, news… not much, actually. I saw Tom again, and he’s having his heart looked at it see if it can take anesthesia, so he can undergo electroshock therapy for his depression. Yes, they still do that, although it’s extremely rare and only in the most extreme of cases. Not as much current as they used to use, and only on one hemisphere of the brain, but still– it’s got to be awful if his therapist is resorting to that. All I can do is hug him repeatedly and tell him I love him, which is what I do, but it just leaves me feeling helpless.
I’m also forsure applying for the summer abroad Shakespeare class with my financee Dr. Armitage (we’ve reconciled after that "final exam" debacle; I’m very forgiving, you know). I have to get reccomendations and stuff, so I’m trying to overcome my paper-work loathing. And there’s also this "essay" issue of which I am wary. What do these people want to hear? You know. Don’t hold back– advise me.
[Sara my love, I've been thinking about what you said about the MFA. You're probably right, and it might be a waste of time. I just feel I have so much to learn about writing, and I don't know where to learn it from. And I'd like to thank you for conveniently planning your wedding for my Fall break. Unlike SOME people....]
Anyway. Did I mention I had to take basic math this semester? Does anyone actually remember how to do square roots by hand? Quadratic equations? Slopes? (shut up, marco). I for one do not, and I’m remembering the dreams I had while sleeping through trigonometry, as well as the notes passed to and from Ian Palmquist, but oddly enough absolutely nothing about math. Alas, I’m an idiot. (secretly, I enjoy this algebra business. But I’ve forgotten the most basic things– like flipping fractions, and I find it very frustrating.)
My other classes are great, I’m learning interesting things I’m sure I’ll repeat to you endlessly about the life of Keats and Freudian looks at hitchcock, but it’s a lot of work and reading. In regards to my last post, I spoke too soon. I went to my Statistics recitation and was prompted not once, but twice, into rambling about myself in that juvenille "let’s get to know each other" fashion. God, we had to make up alliterative details about ourselves so we could remember each others names and stuff. Nothing interesting starts with J, except Junkie, jealousy, jackass, and juxtaposition. Don’t ask, just go from there.
You know, in the tradition of "if you can’t beat em, join em" , I’m starting to use itunes. I’ve installed it twice on my computer for classes, and then promptly uninstalled it when the class was over– mainly b/c the way it insinuates itself into every corner of the harddrive makes me ill. but I’ve had to do it again for my Philos of Film class, and damn it I’m just going to leave it. I’m using it. I give up. I can’t work the damn mac-oriented icons, but I can learn. I’m tired of fighting it.
Last and least, I’m having optimistic thoughts about my Nihilism issue. It hasn’t solidified into something explainable yet, but there’s more to life than logic and meaning. Or maybe there isn’t, I don’t know. But regardless of the source of the things that drive us, chemicals though they are, there’s a power in it that moves whole civilizations. And that’s worth investigating.
gotta run,
love.
