if i hear "empty nest" again, I'll cry.

[sub__rosa]

It's tough trying to talk to my parents about anything school related, anything deeper than the day to day. To break my Father's flow or my Mother's mimicry is to part with something that I can only call "family." I don't really know what family is anymore; does it die the death of 'love,' the 'good,' and 'beauty'--those concepts that seem to

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[songsiheard]

When I tell my parents that part of what I do involves publishing books, the first of which will hopefully be a version or expansion of my dissertation, my mom, though I've explained to her on myriad occasions the difference between "creative" and "critical" writing (though I'd hope that in some small ways, my writing mixes a little, but explaining that further move to my mother would be impossible), inevitably asks, with excitement, "What will the story be about??"

That excitement, in some ways, saves me from feeling totally alienated.

The last boy I dated (so so briefly, for reasons that should be clear from this post), a musician, after a hard day at his day job and a fight with his band members, said to me "I wish I could do what you do and just read stories all day." When I tried to explain to him what I actually do, he just stared at me in confusion. I had him read a paragraph of what I was reading at the time (I think it was Deleuze) and then he asked to read my last paper (on the "flash" in Benjamin's "Theses on the

[sub__rosa]

I've waited until now to wish you a happy birthday. I wish I could by you a drink, talk normally about "that something," and maybe go for a walk.

It's depressing trying to talk to people you are supposed to love (people sharing the same genetic makeup no less) about subjects near and dear. Especially subjects that many outsiders look on as "leisure" activities. You try and show them something that the text is doing to them, and then they make up words to get themselves from one uncormfortable position to another.

Regardless

I would like to talk to you about grad school. the expectations. the people. the decorum.

I'm currently into A Light in August. The Winter of Their Discontent. Professor Sherry makes scrunched up noses when Joyce is brought up. I've only read a few pages of Portrait.

meh. Movies tonight. My place. You're invited and there will be wine.