THIS JOURNAL IS DEAD
But fear not! Juggling continues at the web space of the old playlist sharing website, so keep your browsers tuned to:
donutmuse.com
I'll be keeping the LJ account to read and comment on everyone else's blogs-- I just wanted something a little more clean/customizable/stored on my own server.

New Silver Jews album in the works. Malkmus included.
This is fucking incredible news.

Now that all but one of my first semester classes are over, I've found some valuable free time. Since I always take advantage of my stay in Paris, I've spent the last week or so reading English literature and writing English prose. I found two of the bigger English book stores in the city, The San Francisco Book Company and The Village Voice ( Read more... )

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The BBC reports that the United States gives up the search for WMD in Iraq (via MetaFilter).
Here's the situation: the commander in chief actively promotes a war based on the possible dissemination of WMD. Even if one is completely ignorant/skeptical of the idea that Bush/Rumsfeld/Cheney manufactured the war by insinuating links with terror/Al ( Read more... )

After my tales of humiliation, I must go back in time to tell of my wonderful Christmas break spent (for the most part) in my home state of Massachusetts.
Traveling seemed to take forever, but the night at Tim and Melissa's apartment spent eating chicken tacos (unheard of in France!) made every excrutiating hour worth it.
I arrived home to see ( Read more... )

Today's two similar but unrelated incidents of shock and confusion in Paris:

1. 2:30 PM : Walking down the Boulevard Montparnasse with Sarah, a homeless man asks for change. As the French words for "I'm sorry" leave my mouth, he approaches us. Not thinking anything of it, Sarah and I continue walking until I feel a flat palm wallop sharply against ( Read more... )

As much as I want to assert my individuality every half-hour of the day, I really wouldn't mind being David Berman for a spell.
[Emerson College Literary Magzine Interview, Spring 2003]

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My host family here has always had a strange set-up for their television. There's one in the bedroom and one in the living room. The latter sits on the floor in the corner among the cluttered old-fashioned decor. You can barely see it over the coffee table.
For a long time, they only could get cable upstairs. Why? I don't know. But the obvious ( Read more... )