Part One.
Listening to: Mezzamorphis by Delirious?

I have a few thoughts, and this is one. Oksosometimes on this CD, I feel like Delirious? thinks it's U2. Is that a sacrifice of their artistic integrity? Discuss.

The other thought is that Delirious? really liked concept albums. There's such a clear journey in Mezzamorphis. It's like a Pilgrim's Progress, U2 rock opera. Now, I have to respect this. I love a good (or a bad or a subpar) rock opera. (Note: I am classy and trashy, but mostly trashy.)

Dad, do we have Glo?* Because I kind of want to listen to it in rock opera terms. Worship rock opera terms.

(*I miss my dad.)

Part Two.
Mute Math, it is time for you to stop phunking with my heart and being on everyone's soundtrack without releasing your next full-length album (I mean, Twilight? Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2? Do you expect me to follow you that far into the dark?) (Aside to Twilight fans, I am not a hater. I like trash. However, I just can't get into hormonally-charged undead high school soap operas. I tried... ok, no, that was a lie. I didn't try.)

Back to Mute Math--you're missing my entire season of commercial gifts, from Christmas to birthday! Shenanigans!

Part Three.
Dear Pumpkin Spice Latte, you were so good, but you're messing up my sleep schedule LIKE WOAH.

Or maybe I'm just wired because it's THIS close to Thanksgiving and to spending time with my family.


Part Four.


It's that time of the year when I start looking (not feeling) like Vsevolod Garshin (to the left, to the left.)

I love this painting (by Ilya Rupin; he's like the Tolstoy of painters, but I like him better--he's a "realist" in the Marxist critical sense and he's so dang revolutionary!) because it seems much more honest than photographs of Vsevolod Garshin. ("Vsevolod" sounds like the name of a worthy space adversary, I think, though.)

Garshin was a really tormented individual, and I think you see a bit of how sad he was in this portrait. And a bit of his paper clutter problem, with which I can empathize.

I feel like if Garshin lived today, he would have a stack of Diet Mountain Dew cans on his desk, as well.

And maybe things would have turned out ok for him.

Includes many salutations!

A brief, open letter to my wonderful dad:

Dear Dad,

There is a boy at school whose hair is the epitome of Puppy Bouf-Bouf. It's more bouffant and puppier than yours could have ever been. In case this boy ever reads this brief, open letter--and realizes with a start that only he could be Puppy Bouf-Bouf boy--he should know that I'm fine with Puppy Bouf-Bouf hair and I'm not trying to poke fun at him. But his fluffy hairstyle choice just brings me joy, and it reminds me of you every day. And you are my favorite dad, ever.

Love, me

Prose for my pink hair:

Cotton candies and rosy tones caught my eye in the mirror every time, making me feel otherworldly... or like a My Little Pony... or like Pink. In a way it was cool... and spacy... and lovely. But there comes a time when one tires, if not of pink hair, then of being a pink-haired person. Of the stares from the scandalized sweet little old ladies. Of the honks from the adoring punk crowd in their trashy punk cars. One longs for a hair color that belongs.

So it's over.

I wear hats.

Who inspires me at the moment:

60's era Twiggy. She's just so cutely vacuous and I empathize with that, since I now rely on a lot of medicine to get me through my day. I only relate a little bit with the skinniness, because although steroids make me more ravenous than a pride of fasting lions, the antibiotics make me pretty heinously nauseated. I'm sure you wanted to know that.

Although I do recommend ginger chews. Ginger chews, which I have just discovered, are fantastic. They're pretty much what they sound like--candy-looking chewy ginger things. They're odd-tasting and spicy but they work. Now if I can only find out where they are sold.

Oh! And also one of those English professors I haven't had yet. I just today found out that he speaks, or has spoken in his life, upwards of three languages that are not English. That's inspiring. Rachel says I'm going to learn every European language. I don't know... but I love her.

Listening to Le Roi Soleil and Mozart! Das Musical. Recommend both. Beth Nell, the first Emmanuel Moire song is from Le Roi Soleil--it's a French musical. Emmanuel Moire has such a soothing voice, doesn't he? And the song is gorgeous.

A Couple of Reviews

The book Starship Troopers: too many pages about space suits and benevolent fascism.

The movie Starship Troopers: not enough space suits (I never thought I'd ever say that) or Nazi Neil Patrick Harris. Too many Aryans and douche bang, too much bug guts. I do not recommend. I do, however, love Neil Patrick Harris, and he is a beacon of typecast intelligence in this film. (Neil Patrick Harris!)

We had this cool guy from Spain in our German class today. Frau Doctor commended him on his independent study of German. For a split second I was so jealous that I'm not independently studying something. Not German or French, obviously, but Arabic or something like that, and then I remembered that Arabic is a ridiculously impossible language to learn independently. (Jesse, you can teach me, right?)

And then I was incredibly jealous that he was European and lives in Europe because we all know I'd love to just move across the lake, where there is actual history and where people speak multiple languages. Oh, Europe--the continent of Beckett and Ionesco and Nicolas Sarkozy (and Carla Bruni) and Ioan Gruffudd. I have not forgotten the sight of the Swiss Alps when I flew to Italy in the spring--big, cold-looking mountain things. So glorious, so big, so cold-looking.

Oh, if you are related to my brother, and are planning to give him a Christmas present, he would love the Edward Scissorhands soundtrack. Now, I find the movie schmaltzy and weird, so I don't often watch it. Apparently, my brother appreciates the sounds of schmaltz and weirdness and was nearly moved to tears by the strains of Danny Elfman. (Yeah, I know, I have the cutest brother on the face of the earth. I'm so spoiled. Other kid's brothers leave the milk out and play video games all day, and mine leaves the milk out, plays video games, and listens to film music.)

I love my mom.

She called today after she saw me post-show last night because she said I seemed upset and/or sick. I was both, and I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when she totally read my mail. Because she's my mom, and she knows.

I keep saying I'm done with being sick, and then I keep... not being done. That is the essential summary of my bout with bronchitis thus far.

Most of the movies I have seen lately have been too campy for their own good and I haven't read anything for a week or so, so I don't have much to blog about. If I was my brother, I'd write something deep and philosophical but I don't have enough lung capacity for that.

Except I no longer have a mohawk. That's noteworthy.

Still pink, though. For the moment.

1. I really like show business, and I'm tired of it at the same time. I love crawling into small spaces and popping out of them; I enjoy teasing the mohawk; I like to dance, if badly. At the same time...

2. Ender's Game is phenomenal. I can say this now that I've read it through once. The motifs are so sophisticated and it's so internalized. You really get to know Ender, and I don't care what adults say, kids think like this.

3. I suddenly (still) miss Chagall Guevara.

4. Campus is unusually loud today. It's like Universal People Yell At Each Other Day. Not a fan.

5. Official Post-Election Thoughts: I'm not a hater. I'm not going to say, "Well, of course Obama won, because he's charismatic, smart and has excellent taste, while McCain is an old white guy and Sarah seems a little unbalanced and I hate Republicans." I'm also not going to say, "Well, I hate that Obama won and I hate Democrats and we're going to hell in a handbasket." I don't believe in any of those statements.

No political leader will be the one who will save civilization and the problems in our country. Laws written in stone, enacted by liberals or conservatives, won't necessarily make any individual truly believe in the value of human life or the danger of greed or the importance of protecting our natural resources.

I just have to commit to treating people with love and respect, as I believe Jesus called me to do. I hope that I will be able to see evidence of love and respect in Obama's decisions as president, but ultimately, it's not all up to him. It's up to the grace of God to cover the decisions that we all make.

6. Secret: I actually like having pink hair and, though I will give it up, I won't really want to.

1. Shows can be exhausting.

2. Cool book that I just read: The Space Merchants by Frederik Pohl. It's got a bit of language in it, but it is not too bad. It's kind of quirky, a short read, and it's quite clever and prophetic.

3. I just decided on the post-pink hair color. It is a secret. I am determined; it will take determination.

4. I have been sick for about a week with The Bronchitis, shortly following my roommate's adorable-but-also-really-scary bout with The Bronchitis. Basically, we have bad air over here and so my suitemates and I have all gotten respiratory problems. My roommate had one of the worst cases; she wheezed a lot and missed a lot of school and we were all terrified for her and babied her as much as we could. Well, she also got on this heavy-duty cough syrup with hydrocodone. And she was high as a kite and did some really funny things. I am now also on heavy-duty cough syrup and heavy-duty allergy medications. It isn't so bad now, but my head has very often felt like it isn't really attached to my body. I've had so many metaphysical realizations. I've tripped very many times, and I've found joy in many simple things, such as trying to catch moths and reading the fourth and fifth Harry Potter books.

(Side note: The Harry Potter series was not marketed well. Teachers clung to it because it made children want to read, and many evangelicals called it heresy and witchcraft and never exposed themselves to it. My take on it is this: Harry Potter is pop mythology. If you never explain allegory and myth to your students or children, they won't know how to take it in context. Harry Potter is not about actually becoming a witch; it is not designed to lead children into the pursuit of witchcraft; the series is really just an epic myth. It's not supposed to have practical application; it's supposed to instill in people mythic culture. Mythic culture is not all bad. There are many true things that are echoed and perpetuated in myth, and I would assert that J.K. Rowling echoes and perpetuates true things even if she didn't intend to do so.)

5. I am reading Sartre's La Nausee and to help not-very-adept-in-French me do so, I am also reading Nausea, the English translation. La Nausee almost should never be translated. It's so much better in French. Rien de nouveau.

6. I've started reading Ender's Game, too. I'll let you know what I think of it later.

7. Confession: I wish I had the money/self-discipline/fine motor skills to wear false eyelashes every single day. Because I totally would.