sigh

"'Tell me,' he said, 'what is this thing about time? Why is it better to be late than early? People are always saying, we must wait, we must wait. What are they waiting for?'

'Well,' I said, feeling myself be led by Giovanni into deep and dangerous water, 'I guess people wait in order to make sure of what they feel.'

'In order to make sure!' He turned again to that invisible ally and laughed again. I was beginning, perhaps, to find his phantom a little unnerving, but the sound of his laughter in that airless tunnel was the most incredible sound. 'It’s clear to me that you are a true philosopher. And when you have waited---has this made you sure?'"

<3 James Baldwin
I couldn't fall asleep last night. Perhaps it was because of my escapades.

I love tea. I just got some earl grey tea from Bagelz. I think I am going to start calling it Early Grey tea now though.

So T-mobile/Deutsche Telekom AND Addidas both pulled their sponsorship from the T-mobile cycling team yesterday and today because they don't want their names involved any more in doping scandals. It's becoming ridiculous, this doping issue. First of all, I do not understand why we all act so surprised when it is revealed that someone has been doping. Climbing up a 9,000 ft mountain in France at 20mph after riding 90 miles already that day, and after riding 100 miles every day for the past 10 days, is not normal for a human being in its natural state. Come on, people. So now the former team T-Mobile is called Team High Road. The Jan must be sad.

So I forgot

So I forgot to do my update about life the other day. I ended up getting a migraine and going to bed. It was upsetting. So since then I have lost my creative inspiration.

Classes are almost over. I can't wait until Christmas break so I can drink tea, read books, and crush the souls of the weak (aka start my training for cycling!).

As for life, life is...eh. Life is tiring me. I need to get back on the bike. It's cold though, so the next best thing is to get into shape for when it's warmer out. This is what I want to wear for the spring and summer!






I'll be pimped out.

Quite possibly the best passage in American literature

"Before and beside me and all over the room, towering like a wall, were boxes of cardboard and leather, some tied with string, some locked, some bursting, and out of the topmost box before me spilled down sheets of violin music. There was a violin in the room, lying on the table in its wrapped, cracked case---it was impossible to guess from looking at it whether it had been laid to rest there yesterday or a hundred years before. The table was loaded with yellowing newspapers and empty bottles and it held a single brown and wrinkled potato in which even the sprouting eyes were rotten. Red wine had been spilled on the floor; it had been allowed to dry and it made the air in the room sweet and heavy. But it was not the room's disorder which was frightening; it was the fact that when one began searching for the key to this disorder, one realized that it was not to be found in any of the usual places. For this was not a matter of habit or circumstance or temperament; it was a matter of punishment and grief. I do not now how I knew this, but I knew it at once; perhaps I knew it because I wanted to live. And I stared at the room with the same, nervous, calculating extension of the intelligence and of all one's forces which occurs when gauging a mortal and unavoidable danger: at the silent walls of the room with its distant, archaic lovers trapped in an interminable rose garden, and the staring windows, staring like two great eyes of ice and fire, and the ceiling which lowered like those clouds out of which fiends have sometimes spoken and which obscured but failed to soften its malevolence behind the yellow light which hung like a diseased and undefinable sex in its center. Under this blunted arrow, this smashed flower of light lay the terrors which encompassed Giovanni's soul. I understood why Giovanni had wanted me and had brought me to his last retreat. I was to destroy this room and give to Giovanni a new and better life. This could only be my own, which, in order to transform Giovanni's, must first become a part of Giovanni's room."


-James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

essays

Hi. It's me. I'm at the library printing an essay I wrote about Anton Chekhov and James Joyce and their stories "The Duel" and "The Dead." It's getting pretty bad that I can pump essays out like I am an essay factory now. I should change my major.

I'll update more tonight about life when I am at home. I want some subway now. Peace.

Books (continued)

Why don't people understand that some people, like me, like to read?  I don't have to go out and party all the time to have fun.  I am perfectly happy sitting at home with a cup of tea and a novel.  That's why I became an English major.  Ever since I was in 2nd grade I would pass on the opportunity (sometimes) to do something with friends so I could stay at home on a Saturday and read a book. When I was in second grade it was to read Goosebumps books. I do things with friends, but I don't have to surround myself with people all the time. I am not dependent on social interaction for my happiness. And I like to read. I enjoy spending time by myself and reading a book, and that's not going to change. Ever.

I spent over an hour in my Film professor's office yesterday discussing everything from film to literature to life to relationships, and we got onto the topic of birth signs (Aquarius and what have you). I guess that is one of my professor's hobbies, and he said that an Aquarius, which is what I am, is her own person and that she'll do what she damn well pleases, and most of the time, what she damn well pleases is something others might not understand. I think that's fairly applicable here.

Books

My mom called me last night to ask me what I want for Christmas this year from "Santa." I told her I have a list of books that I wanted to get, so that can be my Christmas list. She yelled at me and said "that's not a Christmas present. I'm not getting you that for Christmas. Come up with something else." I said to her, "only in this family would a mother scold her child for wanting books for Christmas."

Jesus Christ

It's cold out now, and I think the cold weather is here to stay.  The other morning I had to wake up at 5 to drive back to Rhode Island.  While my father and I were driving down some side road in Woonsocket, we drove by a huge, flat cemetery that had no trees.  I remember getting this awesome idea for a poem that connected the cemetery, our driving, the darkness at 5am, the cold, the treeless land and the grass, etc.  But I was in such a caffeine and sleep deprived state that I forgot what it was I wanted to write about.  That's what happens when you don't write shit down the moment you get the idea.  But I have a feeling that even if I had written it down, I wouldn't have had any idea what my notes meant because I was so tired and in such a daze and caffeine deprivation. So anyways, from this experience I've decided to write a poem about THAT. That is, about driving by the cemetery, the cold, the grass, the dark, Woonsocket, and my failure to remember what the hell it was I wanted to write about. I'll have the lost idea of a poem inside a poem.

 

In other news, I really enjoy it when lyrics to a song sound like they could be poetry. In Brand New's song "Jesus Christ," for example:

Do I divide and fall apart?

Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark,

And the ship went down in sight of land,

And at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands.

 

You can tell by reading those lines that whoever wrote them (I don't know which member of the band wrote the lyrics) carefully chose every word and every word's position, just like a poet. And the sound of line two is great. It's too bad that so many people don't appreciate it, though. They just think "derrr I like dis song, derr I'm gonna drink more beer and listen to this song, derr it's good." Sigh. When I am teaching English to high school students I will play a song like that (or even that song) to my students to show them the relevance of what they're learning. Students become more engaged that way, and I think they would appreciate what they learn a little more if they see that rock bands use the same techniques in their lyrics that poets use in their poetry.

 

 

 

 

Relaxing on a Tuesday morning before a marathon of classes until 6 tonight, and I stole this from Matt

1. What was the highlight of your day?
Highlight of today? So far it's my iced hazelnut coffee (black), but I've been awake for a whole 90 minutes.

2. Who's car were you in last?
Do you mean whose? My parents.

3. When is the next time you are going to kiss someone ?
I dunno. Soon, I hope.

4. What color shirt are you wearing?
Black.

5. How long is your hair?
Pretty darn long right now.

6. Last movie you watched?
American Gangster.

7. Last thing you ate?
Oatmeal

8. Last thing you drank?
Coffee

9. Where did you sleep last night?
My bed

10. Are you happy right now?
I suppose. There is a lot going on. I won't understand happiness until a few years from now.

11. What TV show did you watch last?
Roseanne.

12. Where is your phone?
Next to me on the desk.

13. What was the last museum you went to?
Probably the museum of fine arts in Boston with Jonathan

14. What color are your eyes?
Greenish?

15. Who came over last?
I don't know?

16. When was the last time you had your heart broken?
N/a

17. Who/what do you hate/dislike currently?
I hate our country's president. I hate my migraines, because now I have to play catch up this week on all the work I couldn't do last week because of my migraines.

18. What are you listening to?
Humming of computers.

19. If you could have one thing right now what would it be?
Sex

20.What is the best smell?
Lilacs in my old backyard in Hyde Park

21. Who makes you laugh the most?
Mary and Allyson. Together.

22. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Sleeping.

23. Are you left-handed?
No.

24. What's for dinner tonight?
Tuna fish on wheat bread.

25. What is the last alcoholic beverage you had?
Budlite.

26. When is your birthday?
February 3

27. Who was the last person to send you a text message?
Jonathan

28. Where was the last place you went shopping?
I can't remember

29. How do you feel about your hair right now?
It's long.

30. AIM or MSN?
AIM

31. Where does most of your family live?
Massachusetts.

32. Are you an only child or do you have siblings?
I have 3 younger sisters.

33. Would you consider yourself to be spoiled?
Not really. Well, maybe a little. I don't know.

34. What was the first thing you thought when you woke up?
I want caffeine.

35. Do you drink beer?
Yes.

36. Myspace or Facebook?
Facebook.

37. Do you have T-Mobile?
Yes, and it sucks.

38. What is/was your favorite subject in school?
English. Always English.

39. What type of boy/girl do you usually fall for?
I like guys who look like guys. I don't like pretty boys.

40. Do you have any hidden talents?
Yes.

41. Have you ever been IN a wedding?
No.

42. Do you have any children?
No.

43. Did you take a nap today?
No. I don't nap well. It usually ends with an intense dream and my freaking out.

44. Ever met someone famous?
Yes. Lots of Celtics players, some singers, etc.

45. Do you want to be famous one day?
Not really.

46. Are you multitasking right now?
No.

47. Could you handle being in the military?
No, I'm not a huge fan of killing people. I think it's silly.

48. What is your average cell phone bill a month?
I don't know. I am on a family plan. My portion comes out to $25 a month.

49. Do you believe in Karma?
Of course I do.

50. Ever been to Las Vegas?
Hell no.

51. What are you doing today?
First I have to go to 4 hours of classes: Film, then modern gay and lesbian literature, then medieval literature, then I have no women's studies today because the professor is in California. So I will read from 2-4, then I have Russian literature from 4-7. Then I am going home, making a tuna sandwich, then crawling into bed and sleeping.

52. Have you ever been gambling?
No.

53. Have you been to New York City?
No.

54. Ever been to Disneyland/world?
Nope.

55. Do you have a favorite cartoon character?
Marvin Martian is pretty cool.

56. Last thing you cooked?
Oatmeal.

I want to write :( I'm surrounded by so much art everyday. My literature classes are filled with art. Art with words. And I go to my film class and I see art through film. I listen to artsy music when I write my essays. My essays which are about art. They analyze forms of art in words. But I never have the time to write art, because I am still learning what makes good written art, or at least I am supposed to be.

I love literature, and I understand that I, like Clive in Maurice, think that someone else other than myself, you reading this for example, simply by reading a passage in a piece of litearture, will suddenly understand something. That the passage is a solution, or, more importantly, a glimpse into my own feelings, and if I tell you to read it, you'll understand. I know that isn't true, though. It wasn't true in Maurice. Maurice didn't understand what Clive was trying to tell him by telling him to read the Symposium. And likewise, why do I expect that any of you will suddenly understand my feelings when I type up these passages from books I read? Do you understand what I am feeling through my typing these passages up? Or am I, like Clive, too lost in literature? I didn't understand how silly it was to try to convey to non-English majors my feelings through literature until my professor, while teaching Maurice to us, said that it is a flaw in Clive's character for him to expect that Maurice will understand simply by reading the Symposium. Does my extended comparison of myself to Clive in this passage show just how silly I am with literature? Probably. But here is a passage from Isherwood's novel A Single Man. Enjoy.


"'I certainly should have,' he agrees smiling and thinking what an absurd and universally accepted bit of nonsense it is that your best friends must necessarily be the ones who understand you. As if there weren't far too much understanding in the world already; above all, that understanding between lovers, celebrated in song and story, which is actually such torture that no two one of them can bear it without frequent separation or fights."

Want to hear a bitter Leanne? Stay tuned for tomrrow morning's update.