Saturday, November 19, 2011

Do you feel it now, Chancellor?

And Chancellor Katehi's incredibly obnoxious, insufficient response can be read here.
Crying and shaking with anger. This is the most terrifying thing I've ever seen.

Thursday, November 17, 2011


Need more bookshelves. Need more wall space against
which to put more bookshelves. Need a house. Want a
house for my books.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Oquirrh
And to think I thought my current semester obsession would be failure.
Instead, it is narrative infection [not to be confused with last fall's obsession: narrative violation]. With a side of narrative consciousness. Mmmmmm. Constantly creating new syllabi in my mind.
And here's the first Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. I cannot believe I didn't know about this until now. My life is changed.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

This is the best thing that has ever happened in my entire life.
‎"You know it makes one feel rather good deciding not to be a bitch."
"Yes."
"It's sort of what we have instead of God."

[Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises]

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Coping with restlessness by posting photos from my former travels...

Buenos Aires[2011]

Colonia del Sacramento


Santiago de Chile

Valparaíso

Viña del mar

Buenos Aires [2010]

Quintana Roo

Prague


London

Rome

Venice

Paris

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Notes from the Lit GRE:

a rose is a rose is a rose

the only reason I knew that it's Celie who writes to Nettie in The Color Purple [because of the song you wrote in undergrad, when you were working on that show]

paragraph 1: Structure, Sign, and Play

[probably incorrectly] answered John Donne for every poem related to love and religion

Mr. Casaubon [rest in peace, or something]

no, I do not know which piece was written by Coleridge, which by Wordsworth, and which by Congreve. But I do know which piece was written by Stein, which by Eliot {t.s.}, and which by Williams. [do I?]

Mikhail! [Bakhtin, not Gorbachev]

no, I don't know anything about The Canterbury Tales, yes I know this passage from The Importance of Being Earnest [but only because I had to do a scene from it in intro to drama my freshman year of high school]

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

1. embracing winter


2. Stevenson, owls, chai, Tom Jones [this is what I do with my time. like, really.]

3. "Jones now declared that they must certainly have lost their way; but this the guide insisted upon was impossible, a word which, in common conversation, is often used to signify not only improbable, but often what is really very likely, and, sometimes, what hath certainly happened: an hyperbolical violence like that which is so frequently offered to the words infinite and eternal, by the former of which it is usual to express a distance of half a yard, and by the latter, a duration of five minutes." [Henry Fielding, Tom Jones]

4. Today, I read "It's Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers" to my students to make up for the heavy, boring grammar lessons we've had the last two classes.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Something about this scarf on etsy has been calling my name for weeks. If only my income were more disposable...

Monday, November 7, 2011

  1. Six years ago today, mid fall semester of my senior year of high school, I went to my then boyfriend's choir concert at Metro with all my high school friends.
  2. Five years ago today, I was in my dorm room in New York, my first semester of college, sick with the flu and half dead of a broken heart.
  3. Four years ago today, I was in my apartment in Denver, the first place I ever lived alone, and the maintenance guy came over to fix my broken blinds while I procrastinated writing an anthropology paper. [A line from my jorunal that day reads: He started to mess around with [the blinds] and then he shot me in the leg. Ok not actually, I was just seeing if you were paying attention.]
  4. Three years ago today, I talked with my therapist about my ambivalence toward making new friends, then went home and read parts of Discipline & Punish and some criticism on Fight Club.
  5. Two years ago today, I took the GRE subject test in Literature, felt miserable, and so went to The Shoppe to eat cereal and cupcakes with J. [A line from my journal that day reads: Between about 9:30am and 12:20pm this morning at DU, the lit gre pooed in my face and then laughed at me.]
  6. One year ago today, I rode my bike over to Kilby Court to see Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, who were vaguely disappointing.
Meticulous notes about almost every day in the last six and a half years of my life. Sometimes a burden. Sometimes not.
My favorite paragraph from American Psycho:

"While she was gone I would vomit - just to do it - into the rustic terra-cotta jars that lined the patio in front or I would drive into town with the scary masseur and collect razor blades. At night I'd place a faux-concrete and aluminum-wire sconce by Jerry Kott over Evelyn's head and since she'd be so knocked out on Halicon she wouldn't brush it off, and though I laughed at this, while the sconce rose evenly with her deep breathing, soon it made me sad and I stopped placing the sconce over Evelyn's head."

Saturday, November 5, 2011

This:
"for the dullest writers, no more than the dullest companions, are always inoffensive"

[Henry Fielding, Tom Jones]

& this:

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

fragments of the day::[a potential]conceptual framework for this milk-brain of mine

"what. about. love?!" [SBlack, from our disagreement with Hunter's reading of the history of the novel]

&

"everything is the risk that it constitutes" [SCorngold, from his talk on Kafka and the Poetry of Risk Insurance]

Tuesday, November 1, 2011


when all else fails, when my brain is filled with milk and I can hardly even think my way around my own apartment, at least I can do origami with 2nd graders.