Sunday, June 25, 2006
mary jane, take me home.
what is up with wanting to blotto myself all weekend? not all weekend, but friday night, saturday after the show, now . . . my work is done, and i want to lie around in a stupor. and, you know. watch the gilmore girls. and not think about marx.
i was telling the one who's least afraid on the phone yesterday, during her hen party, that some days i can absorb more than others, and i'm not sure if it's the varying subject matter (theorists are flying fast and furious) or different states of mind--like i can only keep my academic on for twelve hours at a time before i turn back into a dummy. probably some of each. this weekend we got a piece of reading that i just couldn't parse--i mean, i read it all, but after spending hours on two pages and scouring the interwebs for some fred moten cliff notes, i decided to just read it and admit tomorrow that i don't get it.
i went to see three plays this weekend--more, oddly, than in the last month combined even though i'm so crazy homework busy. two of them were well-supported off-off productions that made me think of doing plays in seattle. remembering doing plays makes it even harder to keep reading fred moten.
the mornings, though, are good. they are (right now) the right amount of scary, the right amount reassuring. it's a nice reason to get up before eight. i hope this all works out.
i was telling the one who's least afraid on the phone yesterday, during her hen party, that some days i can absorb more than others, and i'm not sure if it's the varying subject matter (theorists are flying fast and furious) or different states of mind--like i can only keep my academic on for twelve hours at a time before i turn back into a dummy. probably some of each. this weekend we got a piece of reading that i just couldn't parse--i mean, i read it all, but after spending hours on two pages and scouring the interwebs for some fred moten cliff notes, i decided to just read it and admit tomorrow that i don't get it.
i went to see three plays this weekend--more, oddly, than in the last month combined even though i'm so crazy homework busy. two of them were well-supported off-off productions that made me think of doing plays in seattle. remembering doing plays makes it even harder to keep reading fred moten.
the mornings, though, are good. they are (right now) the right amount of scary, the right amount reassuring. it's a nice reason to get up before eight. i hope this all works out.
