31 May, 2014
A week ago I delighted over the information that Walt Whitman and Oscar Wilde totally touched peens. As per usual, excessive emotion made me question its root, and I realized that what it comes down to is this: I want to be known enough that, in 100 years, my sex life is of historical interest. Not even to widespread scholars, but damned if I don’t wanna make some future English major squee over the though of who I did, or might have, slept with. Here’s to you, Future English Majors.
Following on that in an otherwise unrelated way, today a coworker told me that I make her life sound boring. “I do that to everyone,” I flippantly replied.
Sometimes I realize when I’m…a bit not good, for lack of an original phrase. That one carries enough weight where it should.
Anyway, god knows if I’ve mentioned here my goal in life: to live such that no one can believe my autobiography is not fiction.
My purpose in life is to be useful.
15 April, 2014
I realized earlier today that, after this weekend, I’m comfortable referring to myself as a bassist. Not a “bass player,” not “someone who plays bass.” I’m still learning, yes. Always will be. But I held my own this weekend.
The best moment, though, in the midst of a shining stream of them, was when I made St. James Infirmary happen, and then watched (and participated) as the river carried away better musicians than I, for a nice, long while.
Next time– well, there will be a next time.
11 April, 2014
It’s a terrible thing, staring at yourself in the mirror and wishing– If only someone would appreciate me for this body, and just deal with the rest.
My recent ex always seemed faintly horrified when I used the terms ‘this’ instead of ‘my’– this flesh, this form, this figure. But it’s not really mine, is it, when I see it so much less than the people around me? I feel it more, for certain, but even then perceptions are deceiving.
I am an adamant proponent of the feminist idea that being in a public space does not make my body a public space.
But I want it to be a shared private space, nonetheless.
Hello again, abyss.
3 July, 2009
Alright, since I have about two hours before I can actually accomplish most of the stuff on my to-do list, let me fill you in on what I’ve been doing, besides laying odds on the next celebrity to kick it.
How about a photo essay? If you’re not following me on Twitter (see the little bar to the right), you’re missing out on most of my inane goings-on, as well as the occasional interesting photo. Let me clip the rest off here, so you don’t have to see any pictures if you don’t want to. Reminder, some are NSFW.
Follow me, below the goddamned fold.
Read the rest of this entry »
3 July, 2009
Oh god I’ve been way absent. The past few months were kind of rotten, a little good sprinkled here and there. Not much cooking to report, sadly, since that is an indicator of my general happiness. Working on that, which of course requires a heaping dose of morbidity (of the non-medical kind). So I present you with:
Celebrity Death Bingo!
That’s my selection, at least. If you’d like me to send you the Word Document so you can create your own card, just drop me a comment with your e-mail address. If you’d like to tell me I’m going to hell, don’t bother, I’m already aware. If you have any editing suggestions, just let me know!
I’ll get around to making another post eventually.
4 February, 2009
I thought this was really cool:
Those are the 200 most popular words (excluding common English terms) in my Honours in Religion Thesis, “The Garden of Eden in Early Jewish and Christian Exegesis”.
4 February, 2009
A poem written quickly in response to her challenge. Hopefully it suits. The title will probably change.
On Any Night
I listened to you all night
when we met
telling stories under
cheap paper party lanterns
and drinking red wine
when you spoke you looked
into my eyes too long so
I bent my head back
to the underbelly of the leaves
smiling so you’d know
that my heart was racing
when you kissed the corner
of my lips and touched my neck
I looked at you and moved
away towards the house
filled another red plastic cup and
took it into the bathroom
with a word to the hostess
not to worry, I sat down
on the tub and thought
my mind rushed forward, easy
I could see us together
for a time and you know
it would be so good
I tipped the wine into the sink
because it takes some time
some practice but
I’ve learned that running
means never having to say
I love you