So I am in Nova Scotia for the first time in almost two years. I’m discovering what I like about this place—the tranquility, the Guy Frenchy’s (kind of like a hotter Goodwill), and the way that I can attract books like a supermagnet on cocaine.
I’ve already got a Kurt Vonnegut book, a book on writing C# (not much different than C++ or Java, from what I’m noticing), and a Gabriel Garcia Marquez book among other things. Things that I love.
If I had more time, I’d write something better. But I get only 20 minutes of internet at this library. Not because of what they say, but rather because there are people waiting on me. So bye for now.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
the one where i channel/challenge the combinations of letters and punctuations
According to the Cure’s Robert Smith:
“If only I thought of the right words/I could’ve held onto your heart/If only I thought of the right words/I wouldn’t be breaking apart all my pictures of you.”
But according to Fastball, “You know there’s always more than one way/To say exactly what you mean to say.”
My diagnosis, Mr Smith: you probably said what you meant to say to the abstract girl that I’m always thinking about when “Pictures of You” plays, very eloquently (even more than you give yourself credit for) if I may add, but the situation was beyond the point were words and promises could have saved this relationship with this abstract girl that I’m always thinking about when “Pictures of You” plays. Not even the great William Shakespeare could have saved your relationship with his flowery and overtly sexual poetry. So please, don’t beat yourself up over it and stop staring at the pictures. There are other things you can be doing right now – like taking pictures for example.
Language won’t save the world. It has never changed feelings when it matters the most – and its speakers contradict themselves too much.
“If only I thought of the right words/I could’ve held onto your heart/If only I thought of the right words/I wouldn’t be breaking apart all my pictures of you.”
But according to Fastball, “You know there’s always more than one way/To say exactly what you mean to say.”
My diagnosis, Mr Smith: you probably said what you meant to say to the abstract girl that I’m always thinking about when “Pictures of You” plays, very eloquently (even more than you give yourself credit for) if I may add, but the situation was beyond the point were words and promises could have saved this relationship with this abstract girl that I’m always thinking about when “Pictures of You” plays. Not even the great William Shakespeare could have saved your relationship with his flowery and overtly sexual poetry. So please, don’t beat yourself up over it and stop staring at the pictures. There are other things you can be doing right now – like taking pictures for example.
Language won’t save the world. It has never changed feelings when it matters the most – and its speakers contradict themselves too much.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
the one where i ask for your inner essayist to aid me
Hello?
Is anyone there? I need your help.
But before you can help me, you’ll need to know something.
One of my deepest darkest secrets that you will have to torture me over is that I have a novel in progress.
I was going to have my assistant write an extremely articulate essay about how the novel was an accurate portrayal of what life is and shit like that. It was quite possibly going to be the most impossible-to-decipher naval-gazing ever possible, quite possibly made to turn away unsophisticated stupid people away from the novel, and most critics.
In fact, most people. I don’t want people who think, “oh my god, I have to read this really boring-ass essay before I get to the actual book” to read my book.
However Loraine has fallen on hard times - NOT SWINE FLU RELATED OH NO LOL - and may be quite the dead person in a few, so I’m here to ask YOU to write it.
If you can help write, and especially if you are an English major, and have background knowledge that encompasses most intellectual movements in the last 200 years and can somehow relate it to my novel please email me the essay and then I will give you money.
I'll give you more money if you can include both the masculist and feminist movement, just to make sure I don’t offend either the boys and girls.
Here’s a quick plot summary and a picture of the novel cover and some reviews - HarperCollins is going to kill me for revealing this before they agreed to publish the book, but I’m rebellious like that - to help fuel that world-changing essay.
Plot Summary:
Sekar Pryors is a priest in the church of Terminus in Thebes, Washington. He is also having a bad week. Not only has he lost his memory only to quickly regain it, but those scientists next door keep bothering him, always trying to disprove Terminus and always making scientific discoveries. And to make things worse, that Sendra character keeps driving him bonkers with his adultery. And to top that, that albino hypochondriac Tidal kid who ran away keeps telling him that the both of them are the Chosen Two. And his best friend Judas has been plotting something treacherous.
Things go from bad to worse when the scientists accidentally create a rift through time and space, and create a gateway to another resourcefilled, bountiful land in the basement of the Terminus church. Soon, an all-out war begins between the priests and scientists, and the only two people who stand in the balance don’t know what to do…or even what to have for breakfast! (Hint: Maybe pancakes.)
REVIEWS:
YOU: “This or Watching House?”
NEW YORK TIMES: “The Cover makes it look interesting…”
WASHINGTON POST: “This book has the most…I’ve ever seen.”
IGN.COM: “So I read ‘The Theban Epic’ this weekend…”
COVER:
Is anyone there? I need your help.
But before you can help me, you’ll need to know something.
One of my deepest darkest secrets that you will have to torture me over is that I have a novel in progress.
I was going to have my assistant write an extremely articulate essay about how the novel was an accurate portrayal of what life is and shit like that. It was quite possibly going to be the most impossible-to-decipher naval-gazing ever possible, quite possibly made to turn away unsophisticated stupid people away from the novel, and most critics.
In fact, most people. I don’t want people who think, “oh my god, I have to read this really boring-ass essay before I get to the actual book” to read my book.
However Loraine has fallen on hard times - NOT SWINE FLU RELATED OH NO LOL - and may be quite the dead person in a few, so I’m here to ask YOU to write it.
If you can help write, and especially if you are an English major, and have background knowledge that encompasses most intellectual movements in the last 200 years and can somehow relate it to my novel please email me the essay and then I will give you money.
I'll give you more money if you can include both the masculist and feminist movement, just to make sure I don’t offend either the boys and girls.
Here’s a quick plot summary and a picture of the novel cover and some reviews - HarperCollins is going to kill me for revealing this before they agreed to publish the book, but I’m rebellious like that - to help fuel that world-changing essay.
Plot Summary:
Sekar Pryors is a priest in the church of Terminus in Thebes, Washington. He is also having a bad week. Not only has he lost his memory only to quickly regain it, but those scientists next door keep bothering him, always trying to disprove Terminus and always making scientific discoveries. And to make things worse, that Sendra character keeps driving him bonkers with his adultery. And to top that, that albino hypochondriac Tidal kid who ran away keeps telling him that the both of them are the Chosen Two. And his best friend Judas has been plotting something treacherous.
Things go from bad to worse when the scientists accidentally create a rift through time and space, and create a gateway to another resourcefilled, bountiful land in the basement of the Terminus church. Soon, an all-out war begins between the priests and scientists, and the only two people who stand in the balance don’t know what to do…or even what to have for breakfast! (Hint: Maybe pancakes.)
REVIEWS:
YOU: “This or Watching House?”
NEW YORK TIMES: “The Cover makes it look interesting…”
WASHINGTON POST: “This book has the most…I’ve ever seen.”
IGN.COM: “So I read ‘The Theban Epic’ this weekend…”
COVER:
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
the one where twenty-first century sexual mores dizzy me
I don't understand why people find one-on-one relationships confining. There's this idea that people have the freedom to have casual sex -- under the partner's permission -- with others, and I feel like it’s been gaining momentum in the past few years. It’s also the reason why I have bitten off most of my skin on my fingers.
I'm in a terrible place when I think about it, because there's a good chance that someone I will be in an imitate relationship with someone who's going to want more. First off, even if they cared enough about me that they don’t pursue that someone else to be with once they knew I wasn’t okay with it, it’d still be awkward, since I’d feel like I was holding the person back.
I don’t want to make anyone unhappy.
In the case where we hypothetically agree to date or just have sex with other people, I’d:
a) try to keep up by having an equal amount of sexual encounters to try to combat my feelings of inadequacy. (bad idea)
But the thing is that I find so few people attractive and in those occasions when I find someone that I like, they wouldn’t like me back. And I’m not a player. (I don't try hard enough/don't truly care for the sex/don't have the skills/think too much/not properly equipped/don’t know the rules/don’t have enough confidence/something wrong with me that I can’t see even though I’ve been doing EVERYTHING in my power to be much more socially presentable for you stupid motorbikefuckers why do I think satisfying you will make me happy/etc)
So after feeling like a loser for hitting on a disinterested girl at a party or something, I’d go back to my dorm, and lie in bed, wondering where my girlfriend would be, and worrying that she probably found someone to take home for the night (since it ALWAYS happens with other people).
Rinse. Repeat once a week. Have an emotional break down when I’d find out that she was successful.
or
b) just end it without a confrontation, instead of talking it over.
The sad part is that I’d feel okay with it if I was like other people. That I have a fluid mind, freshly caught in the moment, where I can just pick up someone very casually, or not care if nothing happened. But I’m too cautious, too worried, and too much in my head.
I really wish that I could just do what these people do, but I can’t.
And then I think: am I really following an outdated mode of dating? Is there anything wrong with me for wanting a person’s intimacy all for myself? And it’s just another person; I have more important things to do with my free time, like save the world or save hamsters from being eaten by their moms. Or you know, doing my homework and studying and writing and everything I want to. But I make this stupid chip off my shoulder and I carry it around.
I wouldn’t be having this problem if the people I truly see myself being something with are so scarce, and walk in and out of my life like the wind skirting off curtains beside the beach window.
Some people say that it is freedom to have casual sex with people while still being in relationships, but I’d find myself running out of options, and too shackled by my jealousy and loneliness.
I can’t make sense of this…help?
I'm in a terrible place when I think about it, because there's a good chance that someone I will be in an imitate relationship with someone who's going to want more. First off, even if they cared enough about me that they don’t pursue that someone else to be with once they knew I wasn’t okay with it, it’d still be awkward, since I’d feel like I was holding the person back.
I don’t want to make anyone unhappy.
In the case where we hypothetically agree to date or just have sex with other people, I’d:
a) try to keep up by having an equal amount of sexual encounters to try to combat my feelings of inadequacy. (bad idea)
But the thing is that I find so few people attractive and in those occasions when I find someone that I like, they wouldn’t like me back. And I’m not a player. (I don't try hard enough/don't truly care for the sex/don't have the skills/think too much/not properly equipped/don’t know the rules/don’t have enough confidence/something wrong with me that I can’t see even though I’ve been doing EVERYTHING in my power to be much more socially presentable for you stupid motorbikefuckers why do I think satisfying you will make me happy/etc)
So after feeling like a loser for hitting on a disinterested girl at a party or something, I’d go back to my dorm, and lie in bed, wondering where my girlfriend would be, and worrying that she probably found someone to take home for the night (since it ALWAYS happens with other people).
Rinse. Repeat once a week. Have an emotional break down when I’d find out that she was successful.
or
b) just end it without a confrontation, instead of talking it over.
The sad part is that I’d feel okay with it if I was like other people. That I have a fluid mind, freshly caught in the moment, where I can just pick up someone very casually, or not care if nothing happened. But I’m too cautious, too worried, and too much in my head.
I really wish that I could just do what these people do, but I can’t.
And then I think: am I really following an outdated mode of dating? Is there anything wrong with me for wanting a person’s intimacy all for myself? And it’s just another person; I have more important things to do with my free time, like save the world or save hamsters from being eaten by their moms. Or you know, doing my homework and studying and writing and everything I want to. But I make this stupid chip off my shoulder and I carry it around.
I wouldn’t be having this problem if the people I truly see myself being something with are so scarce, and walk in and out of my life like the wind skirting off curtains beside the beach window.
Some people say that it is freedom to have casual sex with people while still being in relationships, but I’d find myself running out of options, and too shackled by my jealousy and loneliness.
I can’t make sense of this…help?
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