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Friday, February 03, 2006

My mood is greatly dependent on the weather and how much coffee I've had. You get enough caffeine in me on a sunny day and it's like lithium with a cocaine chaser. Today I bored a room full people by waxing poetic on the significance of the museum experience.

They could have really given a shit about my trip to the Wyeth exhibit, but I jittered my way through a complete monologue. I believe I lost them completely when I started referencing Susan Sontag.

Even I thought I was being a shit, but I just couldn't stop myself.
I need a cold compress and a nap.

My wasted, pathetic, overrated life
Here are some nuggets of wisdom harvested this week, complements of (XX)High School.

Painting the Sistene Chapel ceiling "would be a total waste of my life."

A Separate Peace is "a pathetic excuse for a book."

"Culture is overrated. So is education."

Thursday, February 02, 2006

I am not a planner

I'm housesitting for some friends tonight and tomorrow night that live in Atlanta, which necessitated packing an overnight bag complete with something to wear to work tomorrow. This poses a major problem for me, since most mornings are filled with copious profanities and frantic searches for just the right thing to compliment the shoes I insist on wearing before I decide what garments might be appropriate to accompany it. I'm having a slight breakdown thinking about whether or not the 5 things I packed for tomorrow will actually work out. To complicate matters, I only brought one pair of shoes and they are not rain compatible.

It's fucking pouring out.

Maybe I can wear all of the 18 necklaces I packed to draw attention away from the fact that my shoes are falling apart.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Teach them well and let them lead the way...

"Coretta Scott King? She was married to that black dude, right?"

This was an actual question from one of my students today.
Happy Black History Month, everybody.

Tuesday, January 31, 2006

I am not afraid
At the risk of losing any remaining credibility, I admit that I like Tori Amos. I always have. I heard the newish record recently and it is mediocre at best, but it has launched an Amosessaince and I had an out of body experience listening to Little Earthquakes in the car on the way to work this morning. It's been a while. The last time involved Ms. Comrade and a couple bottles of wine. We also rocked Working Man's Dead and maybe a Gin Blossoms record that BG had in his collection.

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