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(no subject) [Apr. 20th, 2007|04:36 pm]
I am moved by the news that right-handers have more eating disorders.
I'd thought y'all spent your lives strolling unselfconsciously through landscapes of working can-openers and scissors you never have to turn upside-down, pausing from time to time to pen smudge-free notes--but no. Clearly, we all have our crosses to bear.
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(no subject) [Apr. 20th, 2007|04:20 pm]
"Abstinence education doesn't work." Well, I'll be darned.
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(no subject) [Apr. 20th, 2007|11:28 am]
"To Boxmint, from J. Hollander, who was delighted to see her again."

I have more work to get done today than God, I'm totally, utterly overtired, I have no idea who I'm going to be living with and I owe 20 househunters 20 emails.

And I wouldn't call the king my cousin. I talked to John Hollander. (Hollander's one of the best formalist poets alive today. He just won the Frost Medal, which is, like, a cheap but fancypants prize, and I went to see him. Bizarrely, there was like nobody there. When I went to Galway Kinnell's 80th Birthday bash, the large auditorium at Cooper Union was packed so full they were turning people away. But for John Hollander's Frost lecture, the auditorium was well seeded with people but not much more. There was a Champagne Reception afterwards for everyone who attended--and there was enough free champagne to go around. Which, y'know, is unusual.)

And my companion, dear heart that he is, kicked me until I said "Um, Hello Professor Hollander," with a huge fangirl grin that said "OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!" for the entire conversation which ended with him OMG offering to OMG open up a correspondence with me! I didn't ask! HE OFFERED!!


I have to make a speech now, so I can't post you one of his poems. More later.
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(no subject) [Apr. 18th, 2007|11:43 am]
Hi all. this is a blanket note to say I will not be (ow!) writing bak to you today, or (ow!) reading your emails if I can help it (ow!) because genius here's alarm clock (ow!) got set to PM accidentally somehow. Which means I woke up at 9 :19 this morning. Which meeans I yowled in panick, threw on closthes and sprinted to work without, and this is the key part, listen closely, my glasses. I have these glasses (ow!) because a few months ago I suddenly got terrible terrible brain-mashing headaches (ow!) whenever I looked at a computer for more than 20 min. Which is, regrettably, something I am doing now, but I am not into it, is what. In fact, I am typing this post w/out looking at the screen. So, y'all, you should all do whatever you'd usually do, and if you want to do something different that involves me you should call me at the office. coffeeandink, you should show at my house at 8. Love ya.

P.S. You know what's good about this? There is no way I can stay late at the office today. No Sir, I'm leaving promptly at 6 and going home to finish my day's work there. Where my glasses are.
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(no subject) [Apr. 16th, 2007|12:41 pm]
It's been over 110 days since I bought a pack. Why is it, then, I ask you, that I still want a cigarette every damn day?
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(no subject) [Apr. 16th, 2007|12:38 pm]
Yo, all, I'm looking for roommates. Park Slope, $740, large room, near Atlantic/Pacific, also Bergen stop on 2/3, large bookcases joyfully accepted.
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postscript [Apr. 10th, 2007|03:07 pm]
Also, I ate an entire box of gingersnaps. All by myself. In the office. I think something is bothering me.
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(no subject) [Apr. 10th, 2007|01:52 pm]
Today I have set out to be wildly productive and---

learned about Joanna Russ, reread James Tiptree Jr's "The Women Men Don't See," trailed a debate between Mormon women about modesty in prom dresses, tracked the history of several less hardy saplings from the root of the Angel Moroni,followed some heartfelt arguments about how fandom in the 70s was, in fact, not boring at all, debated whether the "Me Decade" is in fact a covert attack on the blooming of female writers in the 1970s, read some biographical material on Joan Didion, learned about a Chinese activist named "Long Hair" who routinely wears a Che Guevara shirt and is sort of the canary in the coal mine in terms of the mainland's tolerance of dissent, and read Robert Silverberg's The Man who Couldn't Forget, followed some side debates about why Genjo Sanzo is referred to as "the kiddo who contains heaven and hell" and concluded that the faction which thinks it is a mistranslation of the names of his sutras are right, lusted over the descriptions of the scents at BPAL, thought about the connection between North Korea and China before the 1980s, looked at several pictures of Tilda Swinton in Narnia, read some George Macdonald and was surprised at the strange, precious-precious didactic tone of the Princess and the Goblin, which is not at all how I remembered it, of course, learned about a game called Mornington Crescent which, in fact, has no rules at all,
but is intended to baffle the spectator by giving the impression that it has an immensely complicated set of rules, and read all about Aung Sang Suu Kyi's house arrest.


Um. And now I have a bouillabaisse of irrelevancies bubbling in my head. One or two of the things bobbing around in the soup leave a nasty aftertaste, I might add. For example, I read the following quote in the Observer on Aung Sang Suu Kyi---

'I've been here three years. It's difficult to say what's going on,' one diplomat admitted. 'She's extraordinarily strong-willed. She's extremely sweet if she likes you but she can be tough too.

'She's sacrificed an awful lot for her country,' he added. 'We all think she's marvellous.'

felt it tasted slightly wrong, thought about Joanna Russ, switched the genders, and substituted Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, MLK, or Vaclav Havel for the portrait center. Darlings, don't you find that

"He's extraordinarily strong-willed. He's extremely sweet if he likes you but he can be tough too."

"He's sacrificed an awful lot for his country," she added. "We all think he's marvelous."

is a bit--well, a bit off?
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fooey [Mar. 1st, 2007|12:19 pm]
I demand to be excused from cause and effect.
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(no subject) [Feb. 26th, 2007|04:51 pm]
Hullo, darlings. My roommates and I are tired of getting drunk and reading poetry to each other, and have decided to get drunk and read poetry to you . Voila the following.


OPP stands for Other People's Poetry. Poetry is more fun to read when
it's written by people way more talented than you. See why at
Brooklyn's premiere night for drunk declaiming of verse. From the
ridiculous to sublime, it's all poetry, no slamming. Plenty of
collections will be on hand, but you can also bring favorites to share.

Freddy's Backroom
485 Dean Street, Brooklyn
8-10p; $free

Last Monday of every month--starting today. (And I'm missing next month's, cuz I'll be in Asia. Compliments; regrets.)
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