Well, the email from my regular school account is officially being forwarded (albeit to a CS account); somehow this seems like a signifier of the changes in my life, and has pushed me over the line to updating again ( Read more... )

As I drove into Seattle on Monday night with my mom, listening to 69 Love Songs, "The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side" came on. It seemed very appropriate, of course, having my first car and all, and so I happily sang along and revelled in the moment ( Read more... )

I'm momentarily obsessed with the song "Dirt" on The Stooges' Fun House. I love the simply, groovy bassline, how the guitar stabs in and drops off, then kicks back in wailing over Iggy's harsh voice. Mmm, yeah.

After spending a few hours hanging out and drinking beers with the other junior staff members, I've somehow managed to remember that I'd been struck by the beauty and insight of a few sentences in a piece of short fiction entitled "Eternal Love": "Marriage, she thought, was not simply choosing your mate, but the person you wanted to be for the rest ( Read more... )

So in reading about SDS (Students for a Democratic Society, a prominent leftist student group during the 1960s) over the past week or so, I've been struck by the re-hashing of older debates and conflicts in the left--not too surprising, I suppose. SDS had a relatively loose organizational structure, and was generally accomodating of a wide variety ( Read more... )

I just finished watching The Breakfast Club, sort of for the hell of it but secretly hoping that it might be just a little profound. No dice. It was pretty out there how the Emilio Estevez character gets ridiculously energetic (doing cartwheels, jumping over bookshelves, furiously playing air guitar) after smoking pot, though. I especially loved, ( Read more... )

I laughed really hard, a la frosh year, for the first time in a while on Monday while eating Patty's in the lounge with Red, Steve, and Malm. Burrito went flying everywhere, but I was happy. Also, this gave me a good chuckle this morning ( Read more... )

This incredibly dorky math joke is too hilarious not to post ( Read more... )

It's coming up on morning, and the driving rain seems to have appropriately slowed to a drizzle. What is night good for, if not having a monopoly on the sublime and hyper-real? Anyhow, the tarps in West were bulging, hernia-like, in a few key places due to the rain; something about the dark, swollen masses seemed a little amusing ( Read more... )

I had a dream last night that, while browsing at a record store, I found a used vinyl copy of Spacemen 3's The Perfect Prescription for $11.99. Only, the record jacket was blue. Hah. Does this mean I have a problem?