Blog by numbers: Number in the title, call to action

You wished you had done internships.

You're glad you went to college.

Spending all this money.

Sitting on the floor with a copy of 'The New Enchanted Broccoli Forest.'

4 pack of Jello.

Wasn't the best student.

Made his way in the world.

Meta-commentary not welcome.

Hologram Johnny Damon.

You're feisty.

Vegetarianism is not the only answer.

The internet has become commercialized.

A motorist honked at me for cycling.

Matte paint jobs on cars.

PDAs went out in the 90s.

Smart cars are too small.

Wheelock's Latin and accompanying story book.

word for word

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is the 7:30 pm train to Lowell, making the following stops in West Medford, Wedgemere, Winchester Center, Anderson, Wilmington, North Billerica, and Lowell. This is the train to Lowell; if you didn't hear it, we don't go there, and it's still not too late to get off."

Miracle Man

I'm a catch, what are you?

Some other kind of trite fishing metaphor?

I'm a catch, but I hope not to get hooked; it might hurt.

Don't want to fight an angler with a pole.

Let me determine my own fate,
Lady of the Lake.

scribblings

-Bulgakov's life and how it informs the novel
-First paragraph of chapter 32
-Behemoth: absurd, droll
-Why Pilate is so tortured?
-Is Azazello, or even Woland, a sympathetic, likable character?
-What happened to Hella?
-The greed of the citizens -- witness Berlioz's uncle grab for the apt.
-Absurdity of Bengalsky: symbolic of enforced institutional stupidity of Soviet life
-Kinship of Pilate and Master? Tortured brilliance
-Meaning of Mark Ratkiller
-Why did the devil come to Moscow? A lark? To teach a lesson?

time yet for a hundred indecisions, / And for a hundred visions and revisions

The Skype does not make me feel totally at home. Something off-putting about it. It's a hybrid. There's the disconnectedness of not being with the person physically, just like a phone conversation, combined with the responsibility in a personal interaction of maintaining some control over your facial expressions and reacting properly in some way to the other person's comments. It's almost the worst of both worlds. It does sort of alleviate that thing of trying to not talk over someone on a long-distance call where you have to pause and see if the other person's going to speak. It's much easier when you can see if they're going to speak. And of course it's nice to see someone's face whom you haven't seen in a long time. It was lovely just now to see A over the Skype line, precisely to see her reactions to what I was saying, which is exactly why I'm saying I'm opposed, because people can see my reactions. I'm not saying it's not magic, because there is clearly black magic involved in Skype, I'm just saying I'm not totally comfortable with someone else seeing my face during a long-distance conversation. Usually when I'm on the phone I pace back and forth, look in the mirror, generally am not presentable to others, because I know no one can see me. This is different, you feel as though you have to "prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet".

The whole thing brings to mind the part in Infinite Jest where Wallace discusses the invention of video-phone technology and how people eventually decided they didn't want other people seeing them, and created lens caps for their video-phones with tableaus on them meant to deceive the person on the other end of the line. It's interesting how prescient that seems now.

KoS installment 1

Her predilection for high-fashion clothes and low-rent apartments led him to believe she was a horse of a different color, entirely.

untitled

The time is flying, going away so fast.

I want everything all at once. I want more time. I want to run as fast as I can the whole time, not just in spurts. I want to look into the water, and see what Roni Horn sees. I want more than I have, always, and I always will. I want it all!

Humanity is not enough. Perfection I desire. Perfect life, perfect body, perfect job, perfect relationship. It's not there yet.

A stream of consciousness flowing forth. Good company.

This is bad.

I got more than I wanted, and then forgot about that, and now it's not enough. Why can't it be enough? Don't you remember wanting these things [that you now have] more than anything in the world? Don't you remember promising that you'd finally be satisfied if you could only have that one thing, that one time, please? It's not enough, it can never be. I want all, all the time.

lots of stuff

shower

blogski

basketball game

the bruins better not blow this

Alex: no dont worry

just look up outside tomorrow

it should look roughyl the same

I feel good though.
Can't help but feel so good. Things fall the right way sometimes, they really do. I just can't handle uncertainty. It throws me, and I can't catch myself quite fast enough.

Alex: coudl the players vote to get it changeg

If she is, I need a bit of info, like what grade level and subject area.


I refuse to explain myself.

Whoop, Jug! I love thee

These thoughts gave me comfort just now:

-There'll always be more plantains to cook.

-You can always just go for a run.

-Life will always go on.

-I won't be 48 for another 24 years.

Continuing my habit of posting lyrics when I can't think of anything else to write

I think I fell in love last night
I think I'll make the same mistake twice
Got my dreams to consider though
Jimmy crack corn
and I don't care at all

-Looker

Check it out, it's a pretty cool song

one sentence blog post

The fire in her eyes as she railed against Ernest Hemingway's misogyny and the flatness of his female characters was almost more than I could bear.

my aim is true

Alison

a thought or two for the evening

There's not enough time in the world to do everything. There's not enough time to floss every day, read books, magazines, and the vast internet, work out, eat healthy, clean the house, visit with all your acquaintances regularly, and take day trips around New England.

There are a million different forces pulling us in all sorts of disparate directions every minute. The best I can do is to work hard and be myself. Some things I won't get to, and I have to make myself believe that that's all right, or I will explode from the worry that I forgot something, or that I'm missing some essential part of my life. It's OK! You can't be all things to all people all the time. It's enough to be yourself.

sake

Spring is in the air
Nothing's really fair
But I don't care

Robert Frost's lines
are often filled with rhymes

don't worry about it

More sad than angry, really

The thoughts going through my head of a Sunday morning:

Why do people go looking for trouble so much? There must be something in you that knows that if you bring a knife out to a bar and you're going to be doing some drinking, the odds are pretty good that you might end up using it. And where does that get you? Where? There's something so base and idiotic about the enormous pride that humans have. So what, you protected your reputation? You're going to stab someone to prove how tough you are?

How can this ever leave anyone better off? Someone gets stabbed, and you keep your reputation for being tough. And where has that ever gotten you? Back in a bar, getting in a fight, and stabbing someone

To uphold your reputation.

Which meant nothing to begin with.

It destroys me, the lengths that people go to to prove how tough they are, how they're 'hard'. What's better, you back down and let it go, or you pull out your knife and stab someone? You're going to jail, they're going to the hospital at best, dead at worst. Where does that leave us? What did you gain? It burns me up to even think about this, because I can't understand the mentality of these people. And I have to live here, I have to try to mind my own business, I have to stay off my street when the bars are closing, I have to watch out so I don't get pulled into your fights, your trouble, your stupid pride. And yes, I chose to live here. I don't have to live on Harvard Ave, where there are 10 bars in a mile radius. But you don't have to bring a weapon to the bar with you. You don't have to pick a fight. You don't have to be here! If you're going to the Kells on a Saturday night, you're probably a certain type of person who knows that fight might break out, and welcomes that possibility. But goodness gracious, you don't have to stab someone to prove how tough you are. Leave my neighborhood alone, for the love of God.

And it burns me too, the pride that people take in this kind of thing. There were people last night, gathered at the police lines, hooping and hollering. As in, the people who got stabbed got what they deserved. As in, someone's going to the hospital, but we kept our rep! To me that's beyond the pale. People are celebrating that they've sacrificed a human life to their pride. What is wrong with us? I know this doesn't happen too often, I know that I live a safe and privileged life, but I cannot let this stand. If one person dies, in Boston, for the sake of pride, it's one too many. It's not fair to take a life for your reputation. Live and let live.