“Another Week”

Do you ever wish you could slow time down?  Sometimes it just doesn’t seem there are enough hours in a day to get everything done.  It would probably help if I didn’t procrastinate quite as much . . .  But even so.

Also . . .  OK, I know I’m a fairly smart person.  My self-image may be a bit off kilter (like the barometric pressure, you just kind of adjust to whatever climate you spend all your time in), but I do know that I’m pretty intelligent.  Every once in a while, though, something will happen that just makes me go, “Damn, I am smart!”  And I don’t really mean that in a braggy, gee-how-great-I-am kind of a way.  I mean, yeah, there’s an element of, “God, people are morons, let’s laugh at them,” but actually, the result is usually more of a sense of isolation than anything else, like being the only person who speaks my native tongue in a sea of foreigners.  Because it’s not just about intelligence, it’s also about a certain kind of worldview, and it’s really not one that a lot of people out there in the world share.  Lucky for me, I’ve managed to find a lot of lovely people who do speak my language (metaphorically speaking), so it’s really not a problem, but occasionally I’ll get a glimpse of what it would be like if I didn‘t have all those people around, and, honestly, it’s a little scary.

So yet again we have a great, big storm predicted for the next couple days, and, yet again, I’m dubious.  It was definitely snowing when I came home from the library tonight, but a little bit of accumulation does not a snowpoclypse make.  So we’ll see what things look like tomorrow.

On the plus side . . .  Michelle sent me this truly brilliant piece of miscellany:  Killer Sinatra karaoke.  How is that anything but awesome?  I mean, unless someone you know has been stabbed for singing a little Blue Eyes, in which case you have my sincere condolences.

5 Things:

Pink pens.

Getting things done.

My little carrel.

Mr. Goodbar.

The Terror That Comes in the Night.

“Staring at the Sun”

I don’t have a whole lot to say about today, really. This tends to happen when you don’t leave your house all day.

I skipped out on a Superbowl party this evening in the hopes of getting some work done, and I did, although not as much as I would have liked.  Oh, well.  I’ll take what I can get.  I’m sorry I missed the chance to hang out, but I can’t say I missed the football excitement.

And now me and my headache are gonna get ourselves to bed and read some supernatural assault experience narratives.  Perfect bedtime reading, right?

5 Things:

Sleeping in.

The easy way out.

Crossing things off lists.

Cheese.

Being organized.

“Heart of Stone”

Well, I meant to get up early and go to the library today, but that didn’t happen.  Instead, I slept in and went to see A Single Man with Monica.  I can’t honestly say I regret the decision in the least.

I was going to write a review of A Single Man, but I don’t think I can.  Suffice to say, it’s simply a gorgeous movie, well-made in every respect — wonderfully acted, impeccably styled, beautifully filmed.  It’s easily one of the best movies I’ve seen in the past year.  Colin Firth is fantastic, but, then, everybody is fantastic.  Tom Ford is so adept and has such a great handle on the material, really treats his characters with respect and dignity that saves them from the cliches they might become in the hands of a lesser director.  The film has a lyrical, slightly surreal quality to it, which I really appreciated.  The whole thing was like a dream.  Just wonderful.

When I got back home, I watched some TV, mended some holes in the lining of my purse, and thought about accomplishing something, but instead I made a bowl of popcorn and fooled around on the internet.  Now I think I’m going to watch some more TV and do a little bit of reading . . . maybe.  That’s what I call a productive use of my time.

5 Things:

Serendipitous occurrences.

Men in suits.

My ukulele.

Nice people who share my interests.

“The lore.”

Fiction Friday: February 5, 2010

So my new joblessness seems to have given me a new lease on life.  Today, amidst the big, beautiful, fat snowflakes, I sent in a resume, had a lovely thesis group meeting, was gifted with a chocolate cupcake, and submitted a proposal to a call for papers.  I could not stop smiling.  I don’t know the last time that happened.

In my jobless, snow & productivity-induced giddiness, I stumbled across an excellent new project for myself: every Friday, I’ll post a piece of short fiction, at least 250 words.  So follow the cut for Fiction Friday No. 1 . . .

“Gloria”

First things first: My mom let me know that the American Heart Association has designated Friday, February 5, as National Wear Red Day in order to raise awareness about heart disease.  In case you didn’t know, heart disease is the number one killer of women in America, which seems like reason enough to get out your favorite red getup.  If you want to do more than dress the part, you can make a donation to the AHA here.

In other news . . . Today was, as promised, another day.  And a pretty good one, all things considered.  I feel oddly weightless, as if someone came in, snipped all my tethers and left me drifting.  I can’t bring myself to worry about anything right now.  No doubt I’ll be gnashing my teeth soon enough, but for the moment, I’m kind of enjoying this surreal sense of freedom.

Everything I was looking forward to about today was just as good as I hoped.  Hanging out with Jeremy was lovely, I think my French test went pretty well, and it turns out I did better on last week’s than I expected, so hooray.  Project Runway with the girls was delightful.  (Did I just say “the girls?”)  The company is always way better than the programming, for real.  And Supernatural was awesome.

So, long story short: the big picture may suck, but on the small scale, everything is sort of lovely.  I guess I’ll take what I can get.

5 Things:

Soma’s Red Hottie. A spicy, chocolatey coffee drink — magical!

Patti Smith’s Horses.  Absolutely my favorite.  “Gloria.”  “Gloria,” that’s all I can say.

Watching people get tipsy. Being around people who are all-out drunk is a drag (to put it mildly), but tipsy is adorable.

“Six degrees of Heaven Bacon.” Oh, show, I love you.

Red nail polish. You can’t argue with a classic.

“Sous le Charme”

So, top news for the day is that I am no longer employed.  Awesome, right?  Yeah.  In some ways it’s actually a relief, but it still begs the pretty large question of, “What on earth am I supposed to I do now?”  Apply for jobs and hold my breath, is what.

On the plus side, I found a really awesome article for my thesis today, and last night I discovered that there is a French electropop that shares my name.  Yes, it’s true: Carlea is for real.  I really want a shirt with their sparkly gold logo on it, but alas no such thing exists.  More’s the pity.

So, moral of the story is: tomorrow is another day.  Happily, my tomorrow will involve Jeremy and a French test and Project Runway and new Supernatural, and all of these are very good things.  Well, except for the French test, but somehow I can’t even bring myself to be anxious about that.

5 Things:

Eponymy.

Thesis awesomeness!

A little bit of free time.

Apples.

Cough drops.

“Peoria Lunch Box Blues”

Every once in a while, I’ll be sitting around and the MFA panic will hit me.  Most of the time I’m too busy just keeping my head above water to worry about what’s going to happen after this spring, but then from time to time, I’ll be wracked with nail-biting anticipation about whether I’ll get into any MFA programs.  In a way, the whole process has been fairly unemotional for me.  I mean, yeah, it’s definitely stressful, but it was nothing like the rain rending and gnashing of teeth that picking a college entailed, or the sense of vaguely giddy dread inspired by the decision to come to IU.  I think I’ve tried to reign in my emotional investment because the less I get my hopes up, the less disappointed I’ll be if things don’t work out.  But every once in a while, the anxiety still rears its ugly head, and then I realize how insanely far away April 15th is.  It’ll be two months before I have any idea at all what my future holds for me.

I am decidedly bad at leaving things up in the air.  I’m not one of those people who says, “Oh, I’ll just call you and we’ll figure it out from there.”  I may, in fact, be a little bit of a control freak.  But I try to let go, try to be relaxed, because most of the time it’s not like I have a choice anyway.

And in the meantime . . . Head still above water?  Check.

5 Things:

Getting stuff done.

Embarrassing research topics.

Rice Krispy Treats.

Cold medicine-induced joie de vivre.

The sinking sensation that my life should be accompanied by circus music.

“Three Men Hanging”

I was out of the house for, like, two hours today and it totally wore me out.  Oh, well, got things to do.

Today’s winning piece of miscellany is about knife fight-induced immaculate conception.  No, I’m not making that up. I don’t know if it’s for real (it’s Discovery, but you never know), but I do not care.  Sometimes you just have to put aside the factual and enjoy the crazy for what it is. [Via BoingBoing]

5 Things:

Waking up with songs stuck in my head.

Bread of all descriptions.

“Les Pompiers” by Boris Vian.

Old-fashioned tale collections.

Minty tea.

“Soul Auctioneer”

So I called out of work today because I didn’t want to spend ten hours sneezing at people over the phone.  Go figure.

I don’t have a whole lot to say about today.  I’ve spent all day inside, reading Richard Dorson’s Bloodstoppers & Bearwalkers, watching old episodes of Supernatural (it’s research, I swear!), and blowing my nose so hard my ears pop.

Oh, and before I let it go too long, I know this a few days overdue, but I thought I should comment on J.D. Salinger’s death.  I was never the biggest fan of The Catcher in the Rye, but I do love “A Perfect Day for Bananafish,” and I think the Onion probably offered the best obituary a Salinger fan could hope for.

5 Things:

Reading in bed.

Clementines.

Grilled cheese.

Comfort TV.

Progress . . . be it ever so humble.

“Lasagna”

God, I hate being sick.  Besides the actual discomfort of the symptoms, it’s just such a damn hassle.  I just can’t ever get comfortable, can’t forget about my body and just get on with business.  It’s as if all of the furniture in your house were suddenly massively uncomfortable — you would never feel at home, like there was no comfortable place to settle down.  That’s what I hate so much about being sick, this constant physical unrest, especially when all you want to do is curl up and be at home — mentally, physically, whatever.  Blerg.

On an awesomer note, my friend Kristin has started a travel blog of sorts, Not Intent on Arriving.  Right now she’s just got posts up from her recent trip to Iceland, but, damn, do they make me want to go back.  I really loved Iceland, and it looks like she had a great time.

Um, there are possibly more things I could say about today, but instead I am going to go to bed and try to get as much sleep as humanly possible before I go to the tunnel of misery that is going to be work tomorrow.

5 Things:

Sleeping.

Chance meetings.

Clementines.

Those weird, super-dense vending machine/school cafeteria brownies.

Red coats.