archives for January 2009
friday refrain · fired up & ready to go, already
Friday 16 January 2009 | I like a cookie
THE OWL Downhill I came hungry, and yet not starved; Cold, yet had heat within me that was proof Against the north wind; tired, yet so that rest Had seemed the sweetest thing under a roof. Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest, Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I. All [...]
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chaos update
Thursday 15 January 2009 | 7 cookies in the jar
Step One: Contain the Pile by dumping it into recycling basket! Pye is only mildly alarmed. I however am more alarmed because through the trendy wire mesh side I can still see 1) list of untelephoned cognitive-behavioral therapists, 2) unfiled program of study, and 3) list of library call numbers. My eyes are trained. Step [...]
avoidant atalanta
Thursday 15 January 2009 | 7 cookies in the jar
Well, at least the last part is good news: Your Life, Predicted: You will never get married. You won’t have any kids. You will live for another 50-60 years. ‘The Life Predictor Quiz’ Since I turn 40 in March, this means you may continue expecting blogposts from me even when I’m over 90! Of course, [...]
in which a youthful brujo expresses his opinion of suburbia
Wednesday 14 January 2009 | 10 cookies in the jar
Interesting, isn’t it, how rural the suburbs used to be? Before exurbia. This same youthful Brujo is also, unbeknownst to him, travelling forward in time to express precisely how I feel about the fact that there are now, officially, signed up for End of the World Class, wait for it…THIRTY-FOUR STUDENTS. Which means it suddenly [...]
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because impermanence, she is a bitch
Tuesday 13 January 2009 | someone left a cookie
[Edited to add: Okay, so dude is admittedly annoying, with his precise stubble and carefully rasped line-endings. And he's apparently Israeli, which, right now, I can't even. But I'm a sucker for looping acoustic guitar and falsetto (as the Brujo, who loathes Thom Yorke, can attest) and that whole watered-down, semantically depleted Jeff Buckley/Ryan Adams [...]
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why we love you; in three chapters (with a very important codicil)
Monday 12 January 2009 | 10 cookies in the jar
CHAPTER ONE. For lo it was a dank and chilly January night, even in Tartarus. For lo the soggy winds didst blow and the wetness did lash the little concrete-block home of your narrator and her Brujo, so much so that even the dog did not want to go outside, and Pyewacket did but sit [...]
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la rochefoucauld pop quiz
Sunday 11 January 2009 | 22 cookies in the jar
“Our enemies’ opinion of us comes closer to the truth than our own.” True or false? Discuss.
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post-holiday aphasia
Friday 9 January 2009 | 7 cookies in the jar
In my head I sing this little song to my blog: I’ve flown around the world in a plane I’ve settled revolutions in Spain the north pole I have charted but I can’t get started with you Srsly, y’all! Half-a-dozen posts banging assertively on my door, and I sit here stumped and reading the NYT [...]
temporarily distracted from everything
Thursday 8 January 2009 | 7 cookies in the jar
Because. I. Must. Have. This. Book. NOW.
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pyewacket’s last post
Monday 5 January 2009 | 6 cookies in the jar
Because I think blogging is stupid. Maybe if I knew more words. But I don’t know many words. That reminds me—the old mom says to apologize because there weren’t any apostrophes in the last post. She says to say something about weird Mexican keyboard layouts. But I don’t know what apostrophes is. It’s still rainy [...]
