Currently listening to: “Sixteen Military Wives” – The Decemberists
I love this video so, so, so much.
(Thank you, Kathleen, for introducing me to hours of procrastination; now I have to write vignettes about the characters in this video or something equally random and obsessive like that OKAY)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1F_YiavSsus
Snark + Model UN = aces all around. bloody marvellous.
Currently listening to: some trumpet major practicing études
After a record 11 days of not blogging, I am back in the blogosphere, having been driven sufficiently mad by the past week-and-a-bit’s onslaught of papers/schoolwork and elections and work and well, life in general. It never ceases to amaze me how tiring just…being awake…can be. Suffice to say, my brains are quite frazzled, as are my nerves, and so as I hide out in the Music library, listening to the soothing (?) tones of trumpeting trumpeteers, I’ll do my best to remain coherent. So here goes nothing.
Arts One is pushing me to the brink slowly but surely – the menagerie of Indian-themed books we’ve had piled upon us this whole semester has been in a word, insane. Too much of a good thing can become a very tiring thing, such that any break at all from Indian literature is a huge relief. Which is why Walcott’s poetry, and Survival in Auschwitz, have been so incredibly welcome. For future reference, following up The Satanic Verses with ghazals and A Passage to India after having thrown in Gandhi and The Home and the World and random poetry packages is really not a good idea. As most of us stew in our own ennui and plow through the nth essay on colonial rule and Britain and India, I think there’s a general build-up of frustration and dare I say, boredom. While we’re at it, as much as I’m completely for reading books outside of the Western literary canon, I don’t see why we’re limiting it to Indian literature. It would be absolutely wonderful if we could’ve delved into Middle Eastern writings, not to mention South American books, or even aboriginal/First Nations tales and other such. In any case, we’ve only one book left – The Intimate Enemy, and yes, it too is about India in colonial times – so somehow, we’ll make it through (and pick the essay topic on Walcott).
In other news, French Club elections are over, and as in-house nut/social coordinator (which gives me a bulletproof excuse for being eleventy thousand times more enthusiastic about everything) for the upcoming year, I’m quite excited about all the great fun that ’09/’10 shall bring in due time *rubs hands in wicked glee and tosses blue white and red confetti* in other words, CREPES AND LITERATURE AND CREPES AND HATS AND CREPES AND ~FRENCHY THINGS~ !!!
Sorry. Was the nuttiness showing again?
Anyhow, work-wise, Indigo is great as usual. I’ve quit my position as a page at the library; instead, I am now reading to small children and it is the most amazing and rewarding thing ever. I mean, seriously, how many jobs do you get to act your shoe size and read Scaredy Squirrel Makes A Friend complete with HAND ACTIONS AND FUNNY VOICES? Seriously. The kids are absolutely great, too; they’re all so enthusiastic and happy and untainted by life. God, I wish I were six again. It’s frightening to think that I’ll be turning nineteen this year and twenty the next and grow old. Meanwhile I’ll just live vicariously through the ‘ickle ones, and books like Where’s My Sock? (great book, by the way, the psychedelic illustrations look like they were painted by someone completely tripped out on cotton candy.)
Well it’s still only 2.45 p.m. I’m going to be here till 7 p.m. tonight, sigh. then busing home, hooray. hopefully something ridiculous happens on the bus, such as the re-emergence of Vegetable Sandwich Man, or Celtic Music Guy.
Currently listening to: “All Grown Up” – bare: A Pop Opera
I asked for wordprompts, and you marvellous people brought it. Presenting drabbly bits of prose/poetry in under 100 words, for a change from the usual blather of daily life and such.
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part one.
perjinkities:
her favourite things cannot be sung of in a chirpy song of roses or wrapped in little brown paper packages; existing only as lovely, shape-shifting wisps in a foggy dream-world blurring between black and white and nothing at all in the middle, each spilt ink-puppy scampers freely, skirting the fine lines between metaphor and irony
comport (and maybe winsome):
enunciation. book atop head. crisp crinoline skirts. tea at four and curtseys and little bound volumes of milton and browning and yeats and the bible sitting oh so carelessly atop the bedside dresser – oh, forget it – ripping the bonnet off curl-papered ringlets, she sticks white-stockinged feet into puddles and watches mud slosh around skinny ankles
perron:
so salvation was for everyone and some found it in hymnals and clasped hands before a gleaming altar and painted frescoes of faces twisted in torment and agony; writhing in darkness beneath strobe lights that seemed to go on exploding forever in psychedelic neon, the white tunnel at the end suddenly seemed so much closer
pettifog (and quibble):
they tried to convince me that two and two was five point oh nine and i would hear none of that but it went on and on and nobody would concede though i clearly lifted my fingers and said the answer was clearly three point one four so it ended with me picking up a spork and tossing it across the room; for once (i guess it was international pi day and trajectories all worked out great) my aim was spot on, isn’t it funny how that turns out?
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More to come tomorrow while I suck on the straw of inspiration.
P.S. I am quite disappointed that nobody decided to participate in my bus slogan challenge! Ignore me as I scoot to my corner and geek out over amusing things like that.
Currently listening to: “Beau-frère” – Les Cowboys Fringants
Super busy week.
Becoming steadily more and more ungrammatical.
Thinking in sentence fragments.
And cookie crumbs.
Hooray incoherence!!!!
Two papers due – Arts One, and French.
Procrastination is the new best friend.
Sorry, coffee.
Your time was short-lived.
French Club executive elections today.
Am now Social Coordinator for the upcoming year.
Prepared to make this a complete riot!
Will blog properly on Saturday.
Will use all your brilliant wordprompts from the previous post.
You guys are absolutely marvellous!
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TODAY’S CHALLENGE:
Found a BUS SLOGAN GENERATOR.
Encourages even MORE procrastination (yay! fun stuff!)
What would YOU say if you could put anything on a bus advertisement?
Create your own bus ads, right-click-save, and then upload on tinypic.com
Post the image link here, and the most entertaining shall be featured in the next entry!
Go crazy.
Currently listening to: “Par chez nous” – Les Cowboys Fringants
I’m undergoing a terrible bout of writer’s block. Nothing seems to make sense, which means that my Arts One essay = epic fail at the moment.
In an effort to try to write, I’d love it if you guys tossed random words at me (the more bizarre the better, e.g. “chortle” is a fab word, “kettle” is wonderful, so is “idiosyncracy”, but “sustainability”, not quite so right now).
I’ll try to muddle and etch out some entries, relevant or otherwise. It’s entirely possible that I might take your wordprompts and run off with them, leaving behind only a trail of yarn and crayon stains.
Love you all.
Peace,
M.