is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Haku! Bunnies! Spread Eagle Village?
Haku! Bunnies! Spread Eagle Village?
Apparently I am so attached to my boyfriend Haku (the cute boy who is sometimes a furr-ocious dragon who also secretly is the river who saved me from drowning as a child) that I must have a picture of he and I framed on the mantelpiece.
I should probably just buy the Spirited Away DVD.
I had lunch with some colleagues today, and drank some champagne at noon. I also had some black bean soup, and salad nicoise, and a dish of fantastic cinnamon ice cream. Is there anything better than CINNAMON ICE CREAM? Very few things.
It felt normal to order champagne at noon because everyone else was ordering gin and tonics. It is that time of year when professors have to go to really lengthy stressful meetings and then sit through hours of undergraduate thesis defenses, and thus they need the fortification of gin and tonics. I myself, being a fellow instead of an adjunct or tenure-track faculty member, do not have to go to meetings or thesis defenses. Champagne!
The lunch was tasty. Anyway, I was talking about how much I love QB, and why my situation might be anomalous (given the lack of meetings, etc.), and I got to mentioning how smile-inducing it is always to see a critter like a bunny or a goose when you leave your house in the morning, it makes you forget you are forsaken in the suburbs, etc�. and the conversation followed a series of disjunctive threads until my friend C--- revealed that in the nearby suburb named Wayne there is a small strip mall that has only bridal shops of various kinds�dresses, invitations, photos, etc., and one bar�where you can always find suburban couples arguing over color choices and the like. The best part is that the strip mall is called SPREAD EAGLE VILLAGE. What?! I may try to take Wendy and Yoktan to Spread Eagle Village this weekend. Literally.
I mentioned the thing about the bunnies when my students were over last night, and one of my students, who seems to be going through a rough break-up right now, or perhaps is having a psychotic (psy-comic?) break, started posing hilarious philosophical choice scenarios. He said he was trying to work through an ethical position on animals versus humans. But the choices he offered were funny to me. For instance: would you rather have your significant other cheat on you and deceive you, or have him or her kill a bunny? Without pause I answered that I�d rather be cheated on than find myself in a lasting relationship with a bunny killer. He found that surprising�not that I made that choice, perhaps, but that I gave it no thought before making it. I assured him that I would recover from the deception, painful though it is to be lied to and hurt by loved ones, but that I would not recover from being pawed by murderous bunny-slaughtering hands! (We were assuming that the killing was not an accident, etc.) The conversation went on for some time in that vein. Clearly, this was after we had discussed paper topics, etc.
I mean, I feel bad when I kill the tremendously slow and stupid prehistoric flying things that always get into my apartment. I�m not sure what they are. They have wings, but can only fly very slowly, and not very far at once. They are large-ish, and brown-ish, and attracted to lights. They make a very loud low-pitched humming noise as they flap. And you can kill them very easily. And you have to kill them, it turns out, because that noise is just so terrible and alarming. It�s not possible to catch them and put them outside because the act of catching them renders them dead. And so you have to kill them. It�s sad. And they aren�t even cute like bunnies.
Bunnies!
If my significant other were a killer of those bugs, I wouldn�t be mad at him or her. But I wouldn�t want him or her to be all joyful about it, either, I guess.
Change of topic. Almost every time I get dressed to go somewhere (out of the house) I think of my grandma. I think of what she would think of my outfit (rarely would she approve of an entire outfit, but often she would approve of various outfit components). Today I had on an outfit that she would have approved of entirely. In fact I was even wearing a pair of her shoes. But then I had to change into yellow converse lowtops because I didn�t feel up to carrying off the full elegant-dress slingback-pump look as I walked across two damp fields to pick up a package at the student center. The converse shoes would have gotten quite a LOOK from my grandma, I tell you what.
Nonetheless, I guess I wore a remarkable dress today. I am guessing that because everyone I saw said something. Friends and colleagues all remarked on my spring-y-ness and how nice the dress was, one even found the dress �compelling.� Then, when I was at Target shopping for party supplies, a young girl said, �Daddy, that lady�s dress is PRETTY!� and stood there staring at me in that way that young girls do. I have a bunch of Betsey Johnson dresses from when she was doing 40s-glamour. I haven�t worn them for awhile but lately I have been rehabilitating them, and today I pulled out this lovely green/yellow/pink rayon floral number with flutter sleeves and mid-calf length, and I guess it�s a winner.
I picked out mother�s day cards for my mom and my other grandma today, and surprised myself by getting a little tear-y that I wouldn�t be buying a card for the grandma of whom we've been speaking just now, whom I love, and who judges my outfits every day even in death.
11:56 p.m. - May 03, 2006
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