i don't want it to be this way. but one day soon, will i have to capitulate to boredom, impatience, contempt and draw it out to a needle's point? to a sharp and pinprick conclusion? sometimes i can't concentrate on anything but that infinitesimal, inevitable point.

1) i'm gonna change shit around here soon. expect the color yellow to become better friends with green...[momma's gonna go grab some paint samples]
1, corollary) also like, probably to be more daily record style. it's so useful to know what the hell was going on, i think. like, right now, i am feeling up the weibull-gamma as a girl at band camp [would :^D]
1, ps) you know and like, midi files of the brandenberg concertos, as well. keke.
2) i feel better now. just generally. no more mental movies but the daily in and out of contacts, contact, smocktact.
3) my heart is beating so fast right now to the seductive p5 tempo and smutty excel spreadsheet on my screen. how orgasmic are the first bassline notes and the subsequent drummy noises of 'good'? i think that song marks my birth as someone. to everyone who loved p5 in 1997 a big kiss.
4) a headache from like on and off/all out weeping for 24 hours (cumulatively maybe 2.5 hrs) but see 2) in case you forgot

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. What then kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the dishes unwashed, the bed unmade, to ignore you in the mornings, make use of you at night. To crave another while pecking your cheek. To say your name without hearing it, to assume it is mine to call.

What is this? Maybe it is an accusation. Or an assumption. Anyway, it's the lovely lesbian Jeannette Winterson of my English class syllabus, from whom I learned the word pessary. I worry always that I will enjoy Maeve Binchy, because I like shit like this. Wow, I'm typing properly right now! I am so easy.

The Princess Diaries. Lots of ppl are watching and raucously enjoying it in the common room right now, ugh ugh, j/k. Part of the reason I don't like saying much anymore, don't like to be terribly loud is that I feel so badly when other people are, and I guess I assume it does make others feel badly. And being demonstrative still kind of is offensive to me these days, I don't know why. And I know I still do it. This is why convents seem so attractive sometimes/recently! Basically I think that fun is only fun when a unified front. Never leave people out! It should be my battlecry, if I practiced it.

Meanwhile, though, I'm not culturesnobby and I'm not culturekitschy and I just need to finish my paper, so that's what I'm doing instead of watching. Lately, as might be evident, I don't do and don't feel like doing what I don't feel like doing. Which sounds bad. Anti-social, wilful, spoiled. All true sometimes. But it's not like I don't want to do anything. And so. The delights of silence and solitude and ratio [Glenn Gould, Glenn Gould, Glenn Gould]...

Grateful tonight that I worked at O'Sho, because even though I rarely partook of the sushi, I know what I [other people] like. Och. I really like salmon because that's what I grew up eating, but yellowtail was so popular. Trendy? Balsamic vinaigrette style. How terrible it must be to be an unpopular food. Unlike cake which is SO pop round here recently :^D

What I talked to Rob about last night, and which applies to the being demonstrative thing - We're both also offended or affrighted or affronted by evangelism. Which I think I've written about before. But really that is religion, I guess, having this infinite cheekiness and impertinence and affrontery to try to pass your God off on someone else. Replace "pass your God off on" with "share with" and you have something completely different, I admit. But that is the difference between proselytizing and testifying [that's what they used to call it i don't really know]. I think it's so much sweeter and more innocent to assume that if people see God's grace in you, and they want some, they'll ask politely, "Where did you get your God from?". Isn't that how the best people do it? Maybe I just find the idea of the inner light attractive. That's why I don't like to tell people what is my new favorite song or band or color or store - unless I know them very well, and I can let them know without them taking me too seriously. Or the new fixation seriously. Is this wrong?!?!? I think I should figure this out, but it feels good to me. Just...not to be a label whore. I vacillated back and forth about that for a long time, and come on dudes, the word 'whore' is in 'label whore'. It can't be that great to be one.

I don't know if this is a happy ending but here we are let loose in open fields.

oh the secret face of a winter night.
walking into the apartment,
straight into a wall of sullen red light.

my every sadness an ache and heavy,
i sneeze for the surprise of it
taut and then tense, a fine blade of could bes

against this outright challenge i turn check
nose still a-quiver, imagine
[can't fill in this line, dammit!]

those movies that you and i (and everybody else?) play in our heads. i think a few days ago i read a reference in 'written on the body'. so don't worry. no need for marist/yankelovich. here's what i sit down to watch these days - the same as always - intern syndrome for jd salinger, jesus, whoever. to retreat completely and brightly. someone talked about disdain recently? disdain? yes? of other people? when i was nine: "she doesn't tolerate fools easily".

instead, to stop negating myself when i hear people talking. stop fading myself into backgrounds with a sore and lagging heart. my comfort zone is the space under, in back of, walking away. what i used to be. what i hate. a show off. anyone who realizes that they exist.

with todd- ideas for KSA events this year:
eyelid taping day
East vs West (coast) Korean War
kimchi making 101

always and ever offended by evangelism. i might even do it a little bit myself but i still can't stand it. evangelizing especially what is not your own. that stepstool the voice climbs onto to be heard. retreat into my room and wilt again. though i'm obsessed with good old storytelling.

1) recently empowered by: the wood shop or fab(rication) lab. superwoman (lil 'mo and fabolous circa march '01?). printmaking paint thinner and subsequent cello callusing. so, so much sleep. the steinway in the music building room 107. apple muffin from houston hall.

2) sapped by complete lack of money. which means no laundry, no yummy eats, no...empowerment [scratching head].

3) on the horizon: new york new wok. paris v lyon decision. dreamweaver, flash, scanning, kicking anand's butt into a ditch. money from rent of cello, sale of books, gig of christmas. a perpepooity of lists. and part 1/2 of the bootleg royal tenenbaums. being bery berry beary.

"Sugarcube"

Whatever you want from me, whatever you want I'll do
Try to squeeze a drop of blood from a sugarcube

Try to be more assured, try to be more right there
Try to be less uptight, try to be more aware
Whatever you want from me, is what I want to do for you
Sweeter than a drop of blood from a sugarcube

And though I like to act the part of being tough
I crumble like a sugarcube for you

Whatever you want from me, whatever you want I'll do
I will try

it just seems like a good idea to start updating again, though it hasn't really been so long - only 5 days since my last night in town thing :^P why does it seem like a good idea? [shaking head whatever] whatever! i guess i will start off by remarking on how scary thomas junta looks on the front cover of the nytimes. the plan for today includes completely settling down. at st. hilda's college at oxford they have a creamery.

8:16 PM soundtrack:
MAC makeup counter
10:00 PM - 12:15 AM soundtrack:
rondelles, jay-z, the lemonheads
12:15 AM - 12:50 AM soundtrack

12:50 AM - 1:25 soundtrack
sentimentality's dynamic on the anti-trust exemption of baseball
and...back to school tomorrow! back to sanctioned existence! yayayayayay

"o judi dench my judi dench"
Ast Ro Zin E: do you think that being beautiful in the inside counts?
deneuver: of course
deneuver: it's like the most important thing
deneuver: only if it shows on the outside. though.
Ast Ro Zin E: oh ok
deneuver: like
deneuver: in your wristband that you wear

another headache...probably cause? sewing or mangopeach lotion. feeling weak...can not do more than quip and smiley and misspell words to communicate. will probably throw up soon. yaay!!! maybe?

today lisa and i went on a safariexpedition that was like this:
walking down raymond avenue [?] for coffee past the two goodlooking redheaded boys who were unloading exercise equipment into that meadow place. see jaguar which belongs to chef ef, the pioneering mexican/spanish chef who owns tacoland a chain of mexican restaurants one of which sits primly on raymond avenue. or whatever it is. copper jag! but cubbyhole opens at 6?! so we go to library where our coffee wouldna been allowed anyway, and get some books. fiction. because i (we?) have immature taste. then we go to to bookworm and i buy one of the books i have just borrowed. because i think i will like it. the book's name? the hours. a novel. by michael cunningham. oh, do guess its subject. at least 1/3 virginia woolf. how LAME have i become? oy and omg. then we go...do other fun secret stuff which will be divulged sometime maybe?

meanwhile, the additive property is not in effect for our grades on pennintouch. if we did know them all at once (cf tonytai) it would be far better than the slow foreplay to rape that this knowing them slowly/not at all would be. maybe?

i think i will go to school on saturday instead of sunday. not to spite the 2-week vacation or to...soak in the much-needed academic ambience but...i don't know why. i need to get somewhere that is more like an island than poughkeepsie, which soaks into surrounding areas. until you don't know what district you're in or where the nearest diner might be. tomorrow if anand or i can get a car, massmoca. islandy! maybe?

i feel like i'm staving off all sensations with my talking...charlie rose, pansori, japanese talk show, tunafish, headaches... :^)
deneuver: virtual pet idea of sex?

jus dor ange. by monday a hug again :^D