to read over christmas break

1. Christa Wolf

2. Virginia Woolf

3. Thomas Wolfe

4. The Orestia.

this convergence of last names is inexplicable, even to myself.

camouflage.

there is / is not a cat in my bed.

truly horrifying things in the world:

the sound of Babe Ruth’s voice – like someone “gargling ashes,” they say, and I agree.

although, it would get sort of cold.

Reasons why I wouldn’t mind being a deer:

1) Living in nice, wooded neighborhoods

2) Rather in, this year, indiely woodland-themed.

3) Watching people on their bikes

4) Antlers.

phrases that will echo forever in my mind.

“The majority of men live lives of quiet desperation,” Thoreau

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds,” Emerson

“Love’s the ever fix-ed mark,” Shakespeare

“Well, I knew something was up when I looked on pirate facebook and saw that they’d both been marooned,” Nic Anthony

O Friends (a three-way conversation)

“Hey, what’s funny is, dinner-and-the-opera Saturday night is going to be my only social engagement this weekend.”

“Don’t worry, me too.”

“Oh. Me too.”

Embarassingly studenty

selbstbetrachtungen

On one hand, I’m hating the humanities-major facet of myself, writing a paper on

“the depiction of the feminine and the natural in the hymns and antiphons of saint hildegard von bingen,”

but, on the other hand,

I’m delighting in said antiphons.

I’ve had this moment about 5 times a day for the past week:

“Holy Shit.

Barack Obama is going to be the President.

Wow.”

So. Bad.

Is how bad I want to see this movie.

Oh No.

an unsettlingly sizable portion of my daily caloric intake is hot water.