i realize how dangerous this is now. duh! umberto eco much? van pelt is my once and future king. as a library that is.

i'm just going to leave this here because it's what i've actually been doing with myself. i don't expect a what what. which is SOOO not to say you are going to send me corrections. i could've written this f*cker in english for all it's worth. if anyone knows how to write those hypertext brackets like as text that would be fantasgreat. let me know. but i'm done. (i'll take this off later so it's not a mental eyesore for me!) i so missed globalization for this. but - one more day and then it's night. mendelssohn and schubert, i'm taking the shining path. i'm smiling by the way. i'm happy. psych! teehee :^)

Rédaction: Comparaison Bonjour Tristesse et Rouge Baiser

Ces deux œuvres se passent dans le même temps en France, les deux se concernent avec les filles en adolescence qui tombent amoreux avec les hommes plus âgées qu’elles sont. Mais elles sont des filles qui mènent les vies très différents, c’est improbable qu’elles puissent jamais se recontrer. Dans Bonjour Tristesse, ces sont les bonheurs de la vie après-guerre qui affectent les vies des caractères, pendant que l’inquiétude politique frappe caractères de Rouge Baiser.

La caractère principale dans Bonjour Tristesse, Cécile, se trouve dans une monde tellement confortable, l’une qu’elle ne vraiment doute jamais. Elle est jeune bourgeoise, accouchant dans un pension et habitant avec son père veuf. Au commencement du livre, elle n’a personne autour de son père, et comme ça, elle est attirée vers sa type de vie. Elle dit que "Le goût du plaisir, du bonheur représente le seul côté cohérent de mon caractère". Mais son père et elle réalise avec un peu d’honte que sa vie n’est pas une complètement acceptable pour elle, et ca c’est ou l’influence d’Anne Larsen deviens importante.

Anne Larsen, une amie familiale, réprésente une femme libèrée: elle est divorcée, elle s’agit pour l’éducation et le travail. En contexte du mouvement pour accorder les femmes la vote, et après l’influence du couvent, elle répresente pour Cécile une vrai femme moderne. Son comportement aussi sert une influence à Cécile, qui est toujours très impressionée par le fait que "elle m’avait habillée avec gout et appris à vivre". Anne semble la seule femme dont Cécile connait qui n’est pas amie de son père, et alors quand Anne apparaît chez eux, c’est très affectant pour elle. Cécile reconnais les qualités raffinées d’Anne, elle reconnais que ses efforts de l’enseigne comme femme moderne, mais elle s’en révolte un peu.

Je crois que c’est l’influence de son père avec qui elle a un tel rapport – le sens qu’elle veut réussir à la vie comme lui, sans éducation formel, sans beaucoup de vrai ambitions ou vrai buts. Elle dit que "je me voyais moi-même à trente ans, plus sembable à nos amis qu’à Anne": pour elle, la réalité de devenir quelquechose dehors que ce qu’elle est déja n’est pas vrai. Et avec Cyril, on voit qu’elle s’agit sans maturité, disant que "Il prenait ce que je ne pouvais supporter de prendre: les responsabilités". Dans quelques manières, Cécile semble moins mature que l’autre fille dont on examine, Nadja, à cause de sa paresse et son manque d’idéales.

En contraste avec Cécile, dont Anne l’encourage à s’enseigner pour le bac, Nadja ne doit pas même d’aller à l’école. Nadja et Cécile n’obéissent aux ce qu’on peut en espérer d’elles. Je crois que Nadja habite plus dans la monde que Cécile – elle travaille comme confectionneuse, elle est une membre d’une cohorte des jeunes Communistes. Elle n’est pas aux vacances, mais seulement habitant comme tout la monde. Cependant, Nadja ont une famille complète, si pas traditionelle – Herschel n’est pas son père biologique mais ils habitent ensembles. On voit aussi que les parents de Nadja, surtout Herschel, ne sont pas bien comprises de ce que sa fille fait. Dans le première scène, Herschel se fâche tellement contre Nadja et sa sœur, Rosa, quand elles retournent en retard le soir. Il est confus quand Nadja part de la famille, il veut seulement qu’elle retourne, en sain.

Mais bien que Nadja ont plus des liens avec la monde, elle ne les tienne complètement: son travail ne se concerne beaucoup, et à la fin d’histoire, quand Nadja s’est expellée de sa cohorte, on voit qu’elle la laisse sans beaucoup de chagrin – c’est la même avec sa famille. Les influences dans la vie de Nadja changent constamment: c’est d’abord le Communisme, c’est Apollinaire, et enfin c’est la monde bourgeois de Stéphane. Elle est si impressionant, elle semble vouloir apprendre tout et devenir tout ce qu’elle voit.

Et alors, pour Nadja, les évenements d’histoire beaucoup frappent sa vie, et elle vive aussi en agitant pour les causes. Ses parents étant Communistes, elle participe dans les manifestations violents contre Ridgway, c’est comment elle se rencontre avec Stéphane, qui veut d’abord l’exploiter ses dégats pour son journal. La violence, la pauvreté caractérise la vie de Nadja – je crois qu’elles la rendent très hésitant à se tenir à rien. C’est en rencontrant Stéphane, elle perds du loyauté aux Communistes, à sa famille, c’est avec Stéphane partant à Vietnam que l’histoire termine. On espère qu’ils deviennent heureux ensemble, malgré que le tourbulence de la monde les effraye.

Je crois que pour les deux filles, on sens les effets de l’après-guerre dans les manières tellement différents. Dans la monde de Cécile, c’est les changements sociales qui dirige les événements de sa vie – le suffrage des femmes, l’éducation comme un but de les bourgeois. Qu’elle rejete ces nouveaux et Anne la mène d’un part à la tristesse du roman. Et pour Nadja, c’est le politique qui la émouvoit, de Staline à Dien Bien Phu, et bien qu’on peut voir l’instabilité dans sa vie, elle semble au conclusion de découvrir un peu.

manoj just came running in with a belt and a steel rod! just for me! or BRYAN as the case may have been. teehee teehee. "i started walking over, but i should probably come in running". yet another weezer convert yo! i should get rid of all the sex toys in my room b/c they are an infinite fountainhead of plaisir for everyone in the wing.

like omg. just need to vent. too much work. how did i let this happen? i was looking at my yearbook just now (for elting), and it was making me think. anyone (of the five or so who could) who understands that will understand muchly muchly. also listening to rufus wainwright's millbrook. people who further understand that...sheeit! yo i'm really pushing it now. i think i'm going to link to all my mgmt assignments. just because. they make me so bitter, i'm biting the tongue and my cheek. davie you're making me want to go home or else far away in a midwestern direction. from this normal unserious place. other people always make me overempathize. meanwhile, though, yeah [looking around] home. i have this time to devote to say i'm listening to towa tei but not the time to actually do that work which necessitates towa tei. can we SAY omg?! academic integrity is going phoosh. why? b/c i'm at penn. the early sellout lives up. she's been hearing things. [grumble grumble].

ah! batucada! how bossa nova occurs in these like cool dynastic um...dynasties. it would be nice if i were amalgamating links in the informational streamlined bauhausian way but - oh well, here is where it's at as far as spackenultimate. this is the pretty version for real so appreciate it.

# of times joanne woke up yesterday: 4
# of times joanne went back to sleep: 9

i hauled my polarfleeced self to drl to watch roseaux savages for class. in my non french speaking mode i didn't realize was wild reeds. i looked up and the movie was over. like everyone else in the over-a/c-ed rhume. it really IS rude and anti-social to go 'round wearing headphones. sigh. [insert text of ecclesiastes here x100.] [i've been saving that for a rainy day :^) but i seem to be floating above it. while still amazingly in self-flagellation mode. 'agony and E' style. that's enough...static and silence for angel] which brings us back to...malachi! do not jesusify this website...it can't be done!

but ahem, good segue to - i'm so not believing what a certain linguistic major is telling me about descriptive vs. prescriptive grammar. you're spreading memes with unwashed hands my boy! little arithmetics.

supporting details as our teachers used to say...from when we were very young.

the unofficial kc3 infamy section
"i used to be a mental anagrammist" -tony
"don't say lalo's fucking hard. give lalo some hard fucking!" -manoj
"i want the whole world to be gay, just like me" -moi-meme
"i AM an atheist...i swear to god." -bryan

watching someone else on a mental jihad wanting to bust through things you think you've already cleaned up and given to your younger brother for safekeeping. and built-in defense mechanisms. all the realisations of the world...

david gray
what can i say? headboppin familial fun. sail away with me hunny...
then the search for e. or E, rather. no italics no lower case.
and then frat something completely different. corrupting the pre-frosh? i AM pre-frosh.
chivalry kicks in when you're drunk i guess. french chivalry. even when internal GPS doesn't.
clearly the highlight of this morning was seeing the beautiful boy, and the beautiful boy saying hi. why is he so beautiful? as he walked out of the ivy grille at 1 o'clock? it is because he has an asian father with whom he has fun at such an hour at such a place. he was so demure and doe-eyed and just...!
QED? i was more drunk catwalking with tony than letting the dawgs out. a rolling my eyes kind of night.

mmhm! me and claudia schiffer and i'm sure she doesn't know how to make beds neither.

happy joanne it's the beginning of the weekend as i know it! excitement all up in my joints! yup all of them. i do in fact have an equal number of weekenddays as weekdays. i rock the house. i'm going to make sure the rest of my days and years are set up like this. frisbee wenches beat me like a rug yesterday. pain = good. we always knew that though :^) go team! the stoics the masochists the laocoons yo. why not the pennultimate? oh! so i'm really happy. 3 men in suits waiting to cross 36th street, left right left right. happy because it's not really about networking it's about...hm! evangelizing. proselytizing. smiling. pikachuing. stwing! with yourself as the imitation ammunition. okay manic happiness clearly came with 1% milk (danah) and brahms piano trio in b (veronica). and when i really listen to people i can do anything. mm theory of moral sentiments. sitting under a tree. you can't do that here "hippie" lemongrass and absorbent rice noodles. client meeting today. septa and aZnBoOty calls with all my boys, everywhere. around the world. oh yeeth. sentence frags. that psychic woman. she was kind of incredibly right. self-fulfilling prophecy this! oh yeah! bitc(s)h! so it's like losing my faith in humanity or having a good time is it?! mwah.
* * * * * * *
later on that evening (the asterisks as always stand sentry to a drastic change in time/space/mood)

thinking and acting outside my comfort zone are always so much easier when i'm armed with a really hot dress and l'occitane. curly hair. an empty stomach to distract my mind from gnawing itself to death. mm. eyelids are sticky from gummy eyelashes and mind wrinklier than it ought to be, thinking about people. oh. gotta wash my face lest i totally break out yo. beee.

she was walking down 33rd street tonight at just around 8 o' clock. corduroys and pig shirt. the corduroys her father's handmedowns. old calvins she'd worn since 8th grade, premiering them in tech class. so, hipped with all this corded softness, feeling like her center of gravity had dropped that few inches. god knows she didn't need even shorter leg-karma. but yes. and the yellow flip-flops (grendha!) which were comfort shoes. slapping against the rough pavement in the soft darkness. flip-flops carrying her across streets, around lightposts. she clung to her left shirt-sleeve with her right hand. she was thinking.

mm. a bit of a floppy gait, yes? chamber-music-meeting bound. a feeling of charging up in the steamy night. so as she passed by the enshadowed wall before the auditorium she also passed by a man huddled in the bus stop.

not huddled up as a boy the last morning he spends at the lake: encrusted with fatigue and a flannel shirt. huddled in, huddled up as this man was. latent movement and intention under a flattened baseball cap.

she almost passed by. in the midst of her blind warmth and perambulating girlhood, a hand interrupted her. a clutch and moan at her left shirt-sleeve. all she could think was that she couldn't run well in flip-flops. she couldn't kick well in flip-flops. she couldn't...

blah. okay so people think i'm a slacker here too. the slacker who's fun to be with. no more.

only read this piece of detour if you're borderline unhappy and need to remember that even people such as i waste time. not, for example, if you want to preserve respect for me, as a student. a young woman. a frisbee player. a future success. oh i guess if you're literate that helps too. sorwee.

"her fine eyes" - quick: who? i actually had dreams at some point.
because nothing'severgonnastandinmyway(again)

that's just for me. gift to self...other than to note the endless back paradigm. again. leitmotif yup. again.
and ohhh a typo. when i said self-reverential i meant reFerential. whoo. my bad :^}
my eyelids have the caffeinated toxic shock syndrome.
is not the most perfect and fitting name for a juice bar ju(s)do?

oh. i'm so hungry. i was tempted to type this all with my fingers one to the left. kujw rgua, whoever thought of phrases like 'heart-rending' ate enough strawberries in the morning to think of them [the phrases or the strawberries?] later that night. once again i can't get enough of: the gleam of the computer monitor, the glow of the parking garage lights, the canny silhouette of the door outlined. adam smith paper woefully unwrought as of yet. i've been kicking through his contradictions but he's such an unworthy target. being dead and also older than me. :^) i haven't stayed up this late since i've been here, clearly my priorities and my heart are in the right place. oh i'd die for the theory of moral sentiment/wealth of nations!

other than the academic martyrdom (teehee) - feeling very ineffectual as usual. underdone and underdoing, obviously. floating in lychee? the ultimate. someone's going to slurp me up soon! and now a nice long sentence, an ink polaroid, something for posterity: oh forget it. no. what do i really feel like? no metaphors, now. i am the cumulative experience of everything i've ever heard. and by heard i mean everything. the east-west dichotomy of breath, listening, hearing, soul? yeah. so hearing in that sense. and a laggard's sense to boot. always too late with my apologies, my self-redemptions, my revelatory stance. still needing to project the whole of my consciousness (check!) on the world. remembering like 24/7 f. scott fitzgerald and his supreme understanding of girlie things. if you look good you can chill for the rest of your life or at least the evening kind of thing. still alive. still awake! still unaware of overwrought (my new favorite olde english word, maybe?) language, and needing desperately to be damagingly self-reverential this late at night. but my back's in line. i'm back in line. there. i mean, please. i'm going to be up in a little while. i love any songs/pieces with birds in the background.

mosaic of the day. why today? just because my memory's better these days, and some things make sense even afterward.
you know, let the wind speak/that is paradise, and also cryptic immortalization is fun.

"it's better that way" (re david gray)
"phone number"
"just shake his hand" (re adam smith)
"no turkey tonight" (re tryptophan)
"we fkin love that"

pepsins and trypsins and i'm very quiet for the night. adam smith adam smith adam smith. glenn gould glenn gould glenn gould. oh that saddest of questions!

everything and a bag of guster lah. we're such an easy school. all petulant all the time. all spirit all the time. bongos! yeah!

spotted on amazon.com:
VHS > Genres > Art House & International > By Theme > Love > Love Triangle

kind of a return, i'm listening to nick drake again b/c i think i lost the CD. so, the napster of a long-ago night. it's cold in my room i might go watch cruel intentions but probably not. bought a studio 54ish dress today at anthropologie which corresponded later with getting into 'the castle' via the huntsman/strictly funk connect. and also a cloche-y hat which now smells of love and squalor.

i had my palm read today, also, some holy water stolen from this poor intuitive woman's house. after she shooed her family out of the kitchen she told me i had psychic abilities. was this because i looked sad and abstracted and have psychic abilities? 'obstacles' 'public front' 'growing further apart'. plans for this halloween currently include eye-makeup cleopatra style. and - ...still feeling handicapped. not so much mind-collapsing as mind-quietly smoking outside the door of full consciousness. flick flick flicking the ash.

thunder and lightning, very very frightening me! i rockied i horrored i picture showed (terrible. penn kids didn't get in on the basis of fake orgasms...wait, never mind. CAS kids didn't get in on the...never mind) in betsey johnson which is now even bigger on me especially as i have psychosomatically skinnified after an religiously intense venusian frisbee experience this evening, and yes more uncanny connections with some 4th floor girls i had honestly never, ever, seen before (but yeah, read: weezer, strings, cty, it's all last month's song. but still a crowdpleasah!) waiting for the tteh body glove. hadassah kielbasa hammam two three. i ate today: belgian waffle w/ burberries and yogurt, faux mochachino (woheva) banana (duly mentioned) donut grace a catherine. 1/2 bag of ruffles and the omnipotent orangina. with which i am apparently becoming associated. drank sangria in the park. perhaps i can set up an interactive food pyramid on this site and you can tell what kind of day i had (exciting, hellish, hectic, lovestruck, suspicious, etc.) by the menu.

th-hank you darling for bringing me such loovely gifts. my walls will thank you. (secretly i've been starved for reading material, i don't care whether they mention razor scooters i just have had enough of the tragedy of the commons. but if you lure me into tetrinet again i kick yo gucci ass) and vot else. gossip gossip gossip and disseminating penn propaganda, it's all part of a day's work. did i mention the huntsman program is code for the f*cked up rifle association? yes? good.

those susan cooper books: "that one is so sharp he will cut himself"

hehe, i totally just shampooed my hair au naturelle

god help me it's 6:30, i'm up i'm up i'm up. it's even light out annd the garbage trucks and creaky septa trolleys are bitchily thanging all over the block. my roommate's alarm clock woke up and so did i and i'm following its example, especially since i didn't do my mgmt rough draft yet. easy enough. but (just ate the breakfast banana) it's not like listening to goldberg variations at this hour can inspire you to write anything but the demure ache in your legs from another cramped night, the monet-ish reflection of sun and tree off the one way glass that may be the inn at penn because you have no sense of direction in this treehaus, the bareness of your tile floor, the goosebumps on your t-shirted arm, the lights still on in the parking garage. and thinking "well that's enough documenting that for a year." somehow snow seems like a good idea. the roommate going for a jog. why?!

"i'll never make my bed again!"

it's like you dream your whole life that such a miracle could occur and then you read about it in the newspaper...
like you know?
because when you're five and you've heard of the theory of relativity but don't know quite what it is, but it has to do with light, and then (narrative voice switchover) i was jumping up and down on my bed, looking at the door frame, which had a spot of light on it from the dining room (this is the old house). and when you jump the light jumps too! but not because the dining room light is moving. and i thought that was relativity. yup. that was me!

lost palm pilot. alas and alack. and stronger stuff. all my clothes smell like detergent. and not even the detergent i was using. coincidence? ugh. did another load of laundry just now to alleviate the sense of loss and irresponsibility. damn good laundry all the prodigal towels back in the fold. but...doh. is dry cereal the new currency? i broke a mirror's frame today. i had graph paper. in a terrible state of grace i am. bonjour tristesse all i want to be is to be forgiven for my "bad habits", the newbian renaissance. iterate that, create a generation. generative learning vs. adaptive learning. "The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality."

hey, here's interaction:
Imagine that your organization is an ocean liner and that you are "the leader." What is your role?

answer to be posted in awhile. it's a great question if tricky bastardized and very whoreton anal.

everyone seems to find this cute but it made me sad - along with the bach suites my mom sent me a lovely card all bescripted in korean. and i haven't even tried to read it. just put it up on ze wall and will wait for a snowy day. so am i disheartening/dangerously unstable? or just immatura? has it grown so dark? need to get some work done. i'm not moving forward.

seesawing. between hunger and engorgedness, wakefulness and la somnabula. between liberty and whatever isn't slavery but is kind of lame. the smoky feeling inside. connections being continually soldered and snapped and forgotten then somehow reconstituted. just to play:

frankenstein
mask and wig

of course, of course, of course. a solitary jo suspended in the spider's web (no spider please), supply of orangina long gone. bemused (who doesn't like being bemused, come on) and concentrating very hard.

back in the real world philly dave and i scalped tickets on the annenberg steps. first miracle of whoretondom. amen.

let's hear it for culture! it's funny because none of us have any short term memories anymore. we all live completely in the moment and a half after the moment. so even if i'm feeling tired i don't remember feeling tired. that's the trick kids. coming closer and closer to the beautiful boy and that's all i'll say about that except that proximity...oh it's relative! relative minor. buka! mmm let's stop this cycle before it starts :^) visited swarthmore (swathmore) with emily and lisa - now we know not to go all the way to 30th street. through drexel's sad sad territory. buka, university city, there's a good clue. missing trains for ben i hope it's not a trend. and saw the ampitheatre (yeah hanseul!) and bits and pieces of good indie bands. and... that "and..." will just be my bastion against...uh...whatever. teehee. when eloquence breaks down is that friendship? the laziness. the sloth. that's terrible. significant silences? or all missis dalloway stylee. the moonlight. the shuffling of feet. okay. mmm. kin ya hear me through this racquet?

as of half an hour ago my half of the room is centered around my bed. now if i can just find the remote for my "hi-fi". and have a pole installed straight down to the brekkie nook...um. in english house. damn. right. don't want to forget this: roger allen is a chum of john cleese! and eat meat! that's going to be my retromaternal yelp du jour. i think i'm becoming a little anemic is why. today for lunch i will eat kowalski's meat sandwich and chug it down w/ some bouillon. mmm.

i have always, always, (always) had problems with answering machines. "she's an answering maCHINE!" once i was trying to call madame z-a- to tell her i was going to the er...nat'l concours dinner. and i ended up with something like 3 long silences and an agonized groan. whoo. ineloquent. iie, not even in french. just the thought i'm left with right now. answering machines take you past blindfolds and into sensory deprivation tank except, it's one of those tanks where it's um...clear. and people are laughing at you. in your bacta fluid. but you don't know that. "cause...yeah."

um, prof: "so, class, should we shut down microsoft?"
jo: "er let's talk about the implications for napster."

i'm so stoopit. what i need is a bracing math course. to ream my ego into denigration gear. that's it, the name of my new company...denigration. blah. so to get to the timeline aspect, we went to see the margaret cho moovie (sorry hunn) at the ritz. i think i'd seen bits of it before on tv. still. comforting to hear the sounds of home. and nude food. the tastes of home. bought my books today, paid for the traffic ticket by phone today, reminding myself right here that i lost my bag at evolution last night and i have to call about it. curses.

so ew. since when does your hermes and your truffles necessarily mean that you can be condescending? sigh, since whenever i guess. the club's name = evolution. with dave. hearing is shot. impending 4-day weekend. tout d'un coup a tidal wave of emptiness washes over me. i feel quite inadequate. just batting it off with a distracted hand. help, negative space!! -mindcollapse- and roll into bed. probably much more tomorrow morning when i'm up and productive, when my mind comes off strike. but okay, i guess i can leave by saying that i saw a boy wearing a seersucker suit at convocation. that was nice!

pondering whether the most decadent room setup would involve using my bed as my work chair. but missing printer cable my anality won't let me reward myself quite yet. so okay. i don't know. bought wine leather converse hi tops today of all things, as i was looking for convocation outfits and ended up wearing my prom dress! sans the shoes which i need to tell mummy to pack-age. mio caro kiss kiss.

hung out a little litttle while with dave in ware, again the uncanny overlaps of culture lacking luster faster. "lah" (oh the singaporeans.) suffice it to say he played weezer and i sang along. the moment between waking and awareness. the discussion of metamorphosis or verwandlung or just another book. i've let myself get laazy laazy mentally. phrases no longer buzz through my head. nobody here but us chickens. just the echoes of what has gone before. but that's fine for now. i think i'm patient enough, or braindead enough, to - what? just exist beautifully.

dilettante is the hissing and the byword of my life of course. observer. and well, not hunger artist quite yet. but anyway. we'll find this all out taking the keirsey test, or in mgmt 100. i look at my face everywhere i can and it's...relevant somehow. i've had enough of taking pictures, using the pronoun "i", i've had enough of the kate spade/vuitton debates for one day. sensory deprivation hit me now. everything is physical. this is hardcore. :^) wish me luck!

ha, ha, hahaha. never having realized how loud construction sites could be. in the MORNING! and dvorak fell on my head slowly during the night. like one...movement...at...a...time. ho. but it's finally coool in philly. slept 'neath my blanket and it was good. so - this mystical bond which grows between us as the carnival ends. all so friendly are we, all so karaoke are we, all so willing to accept the trifling anomalies of each others' varied and multiple existences. our incroyable lingualness, our clumsiness, our sluttiness. well. we're not all walking around with hookahs and wearing armani. or even following those who are. woheva. we're all hungry.

and like omg this boy is so beautiful. i keep seeing him, everywhere everywhere very very proximally (and even an ur-him who isn't as good! amazing) but they both fall on my eyes like honeydew. cool mellow and er dewy. i will never know his name. and hopefully this blog won't become embarrassing to me! but i just wanted to note that i believe in physical beauty that makes you stand up a little straighter and wish you hadn't eaten omelette for brunch, that you didn't put on glasses for the night. ohhoo yes.

it keeps getting better. hopefully my fans will stop waiting with baited breath. wow, i just put it well to danah in an IM - i was judging people according to what they were saying, but not to me. from the perspective of the uh, giant...invisible...ear. or two. but haha, when i talk to people they automatically turn cool. i put me hair behind me ears. i put on the low sexy jo "she can't be asian" voice. but still laugh behind my hand. sleight of hand to say the least. i am the faciliator of your real self. you are comfortable with me. i am even wearing a penn shirt. sometimes i cut you off in conversation because i hate waiting. but otherwise. i drink a lot of water. i push people around in the orange luggage carts. i walk to the 80s party to get cold water and to take a late walk. okay so maybe 2 actual beautiful people, the young rivers cuomo would be jealous of ...er never mind. but can't you see me? polaroids, experiments, names, pyrex. i hope nothing i'm saying makes sense because it's not really good or healthy. if you do understand i hope you'll rescue me. still don't have a cellie, just a cello. oh yeah. the humanities floor (hum 4) much cooler than ours. daamn. much cooler. people who ask questions and smile a lot.

haha...so ordered pizza with tony and jen(n)? declared the usual anti-"like" jihad. linguistics my ass. i just realized it's not linguistics i'm interested in at all, i don't think. unless some kind of yunnian ling i'm only discovering w/ other people. it's just...anomalies in general, and they're the most interesting in language. anti-"like" jihad. whatEVA. mmm, and everyone here speaks french beautifully, i feel like the bee-girl in the blind melon bid-e-o.

disenfranchised asian posse gathered in the hallway talking about themselves. feeling curious but not really, i "hear everything you're saying. without even listening" - and don't want to. pearl milk tea, dance dance revolution, all i can think is hiking at bishbash. teehee...tell me something about asia then.

haha, thanks paul: spackenkill debate 2000

whoo. early saturday morning breakfast although i really thought it was sunday. just sitting here eating muffins rather than go to xandos. lots of shite to do. feeling like tony said how much depends on geography. at least for now. who you have to walk with, who you end up sitting with in the first mgmt lect circle. room's pretty set up although i have random other bizness to take care of. no, not just geography. but whatever. let me think. since i last blogged i've been saved by the divine grace of aveeno lotion, which ROCKS i compare it to a summers morn more lovely and more temperate. colloidal oatmeal, duh. can't wait for classes to start.

asians. let me just say this once and NEVER again. i notice them. but. (post factum edit here)

i have the same problem with other people here as i do with me here. wherever i go it's not good enough and i'm not good enough. so the same applies. danah was all like "how's the boyfriend/you know the one you met the second you stepped in the dorm". teehee. (it's like this, cats, if you say anything reallly good i will so immortalize you here). i walk through anywhere and i just can't respect anyone i see! very strange. i'm probably just assigning them paranoia w/o permission. i think i'm kidding. you think i'm kidding. at comedy nacht about ten peoples' cells rang. not at once mind you. but you know, after the first one you'd think the rest would be hastily offput. i almost felt like being the bozo who screams from the balcony "i should've gone to brown!" which is the way a lot of people feel here!

okay. first night at penn. pretty early yet. outside my window the fluorescent glow of the parking garage's lights gleaming off windshields. my room's still disheveled and i intend to do something about it, just not tonight. because i'm terribly bewildered. for a few moments this felt fleeting. but it's really loud out there on the street. cars honking at this hour. the awake. and loud. i'm not in the lounge socializing. too tired, too itchy. a spectator at the carnival, wool suited, rubbing and rubbing at bleary eyes. but excited!

i'm not doing a great job of anything at this point. once again the therapeutic power of typing. shouldn't i be out and about considering the people within a 2 mile radius of me? then again. if i do anything it will be because i feel like it. no more compulsion. memory's fading fast. sensory overload.