I was gonna post something about Elisabetta Sirani, but...

"Lets talk about me." Discussion sections were successfully completed, and now its time to have a three day weekend...all for me me me! This is good. Because lately, I feel like my attitude is a combination of I sure wish I could kick your ass and ha ha! isn't life a grand joke. I need a lot of smoke. Either cigarettes (which I didn't used to buy but I bought a pack yesterday) or burning lots and lots of incense. I don't know why this is, but this smoke reminds me of the boyfriend I had in Peru. I went there 4 times. Occasionally, friends say "oh that sounds soooo romantic" and I say cynically, "yeah well, it wasn't as romantic as you think." But now, I feel, perhaps, it was romantic? Flying to the Amazon rainforest, communicating in another language, travelling around the Andes, staying in icy cold cheap hotel rooms, going out for Peruvian pizza...yes, it was, in fact, it was VERY romantic. Si, si, si, claro que si! Never blog when you've drunk spiced wine and have a paper about famous lovers due the next day. Maybe I just want to go back to Peru (in general). Peru, mi segunda hogar.
This is not a post about a wish to reunite with an ex, by the way. (Unless this ex is just Peru).

Old guys who think they're charismatic should get chakra healings and date women their own age.

when does school suck

when it breeds too much cleverness
when it ruins relationships
when we slander one another
when in place of compassion
we only
respect
(that means fear)
authority

Vashon Island

I'm looking for anything on the internet related to a poetry press on Vashon, for my poetry class.

Once I lived there. It was very woodsy. My mom was all into channeling and crystals and fairies and stuff.

Then I started hitting adolesence and getting a wee bit rebellious. And, then she got married and we moved to D.C. suburbs (Virginia) ultra Republican highschool hell. (Oh it was only hellish for a year or so...really...)

But anyways.

So far I've found "Crab Creek Review" and "Kota Press."

Vashon is an interesting place.

Yesterday my roommate and I went to see a band called Carbon Leaf play at a Celtic Festival in Bethlehem, PA. I really would've liked to have seen Mary Prankster in Lancaster. However I enjoyed Carbon Leaf because in concert they had a lot of energy. Plus, they're from Richmond (Virginia). Bethelehem is the other place that the Moravians (my ancestors) settled, besides Winston Salem, NC. I wore my Mrs. Hanes Moravian Cookies t-shirt. I also bought a pair of pointy red earring with Celtic symbols on them.

SCHOOL

A professor walks into
the lecture hall.
He tucks an arm
inside his jacket
(like Napoleon)
and gestures
flamboyantly
as he asks for
a show of hands

"How many of you are 17?
How many of you are 18?"

After a cool assessment
we get down to the text.

"You know what I like
about the girl in this
story? She's lost. Now
in my time...I've known
many women." Rustle,
rustle. Suddenly,
they're paying attention!

"Yes, I've known my share
of lost girls. And who knows.
I was just as lost as some
of them, perhaps.

When you're with
a woman
you think
you're going
to get

Mmmm hmmm...

But instead

you get

Uh uh...

What comes out?

Baggage. Guilt.
Problems with Daddy.

There's all kinds
of guilt, you know.

Catholic guilt.

Jewish guilt.

I know because
I've experienced
them all.
That's because
I have no soul."

(all nervously laugh)

"You know what I have
in place of a soul?
A fascination with women."

The students laugh
(nervously) again.

I get self-concious
because I'm sitting
right in his line
of vision.

"And I bet a lot of other
guys would say the same."

I uncross my legs
and zip up my jacket.
He sallies forth.

"Do you believe
in closure? Sometimes
closure is just a nice
idea. Sometimes your
heart is broken and
just keeps breaking."

And we're onto
the next topic.
The death
of one's mother.

Hooray for tenure.

If one believes in the idea that there is a "Universal Soul" ("very Emersonian!" another grad student, who came here from Kent State, commented when I told him this) then I think it could be possible to have mingled with some other soul or souls before incarnating. Which might explain why one might seem to have intimations about, or, simply be rather fascinated by, certain people. http://may4archive.org/bill_schroeder.shtml

Spill

I kind of like the song "Spill." It is by Mary Prankster.

These are the last lyrics:

Because you’re hotter
Than an August in El Paso
And you’re cooler
Than a January 5th

And you tie my silver tongue up
Like a lasso
And your smile shines like
The ribbon on a gift

http://www.maryprankster.com/lyrics_spill.html

Very Long Poem I Love In Its Entirety

This is just an excerpt. The rest can be found online.

And thus to Saadi said the muse;
Eat thou the bread which men refuse;
Flee from the goods which from thee flee;
Seek nothing; Fortune seeketh thee.
Nor mount, nor dive; all good things keep
The midway of the eternal deep;
Wish not to fill the isles with eyes
To fetch thee birds of paradise;
On thine orchard's edge belong
All the brass of plume and song;
Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass
For proverbs in the market-place;
Through mountains bored by regal art
Toil whistles as he drives his cart.
Nor scour the seas, nor sift mankind,
A poet or a friend to find;
Behold, he watches at the door,
Behold his shadow on the floor.
Open innumerable doors,
The heaven where unveiled Allah pours
The flood of truth, the flood of good,
The seraph's and the cherub's food;
Those doors are men; the pariah kind
Admits thee to the perfect Mind.
Seek not beyond thy cottage wall
Redeemer that can yield thee all.
While thou sittest at thy door,
On the desert's yellow floor,
Listening to the gray-haired crones,
Foolish gossips, ancient drones,
—Saadi, see, they rise in stature
To the height of mighty nature,
And the secret stands revealed
Fraudulent Time in vain concealed,
That blessed gods in servile masks
Plied for thee thy household tasks.

"Saadi" by Ralph Waldo Emerson

School Days

Written in the early afternoon

Today, after lecture, a fellow T.A. came up to me and conveyed an unofficial message from someone in the department that I should not give the professor any contact information. Because apparently, in the past, at some point, he "stalked" some people. (Female T.A.s)

I'm getting fed up with this B.S.

Written in the evening

You want to know how it feels to keep being told that now you to have to work for a guy who has "a long history of sexual harrassment"? I'll tell you how it feels. It sucks. My feelings range from depression (gee, if he's so untrustworthy, why did they put me there???) to wanting to lob grapefruits at all the people telling me so (rage is preferable to feeling powerless. And then, the grapefruit tastes so much sweeter!) I'm really tired of being treated like the virgin on the edge of the volcano, about to be pushed. And now, I feel like avoiding my school. I'm really disenchanted with academia. Well I hope he's happy, because his past indiscretions are forcing me to go through a lot of extra stressful shit right now. GRATUITOUS GUILT TRIP. >:-(
Actually though, I will note, he hasn't said hardly a word to me.

Human beings are very sad.

Later

Came home, ate soup on the couch, felt MUCH better. RELAXED.

"I think our livingroom feels like a church."

My roommate says, "I love it when you drink wine."

Sort of feel the need to explain that last one, but I won't. Its bordering on tongue-in-cheek, thats all I want to say. That, and, I was no stranger to Fs in highschool!

(not) minimalist

Ahem. I am very intellectual. Want me to prove it? I own/have opened/watched these DVDs:

Almost Famous
Fellini's Roma
Fellini's Satyricon

And I own and have watched these still unopened DVDs:

Powaqqatsi
Koyaanisqatsi
Without Limits

Still waiting for 50 pages of PDF files to print... (feminist theory and ancient misogynistic texts mostly)

Come on Irene...

This posting is in regard to the links about Irene MacDonald (one of the children of Lewis Carroll's friend, a fellow author of children's books.) I wonder if anyone has noticed them. In the short history of this blog, "Lit Lover," the only comments that have come up were in response to posts about my (but lovely) damn cats. I should of called the thing "Cat Lover" instead of "Lit Lover."

In addition to being a model, "Princess" Irene MacDonald was a very talented young lady. Too bad her dad was a drunk. If he hadn't stumbled and hit his head after a night of hard drinking (after being expelled from the Church of England, the guy had an enormous family to support, so, I guess he had his reasons) while her mother was nervously yanking the snarls out of Irene's hair, she wouldn't have had to leave home and work as a maid in some rich old lady's house. Or have been seduced by some young cad (perhaps the old lady's son or nephew?) when she crept out to the garden one night to sniff a flower. The experience broke her heart, (and robbed her of her bride price) so she was destined to return home and live out the rest of her days as an old maid. (Which she did until she was forty). She might've never married, but then Cecil Brewer, the celebrated architect, came to a family function and found that he fancied her. Slowly, but surely, the successful Cecil got what he wanted. He even forgave her for her youthful indiscretion. It was really great, for a while. Then, one day, happy Mrs. Brewer overheard the bastard making love to some sweet young thing out in the garden...

How do I know? Well, a few facts I read in a book, but the rest of it I just know. From other sources!!

Here is another photograph Lewis Carroll took of her:

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac3.htm

What Flavour Am I?

http://quiz.ravenblack.net/flavour.pl

I realize that it is incorrect to assume that others' lives are all so easy compared to your own. I realize it may be somewhat egotistical. Yet, I think, at least once in his/her life....many a male/female has wondered...WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HAVE IT SO FREAKING EASY!!! Of course, one must be sensible...I realize, this is not quite the case. Even if previous experiences have colored my perceptions. The grass is not always greener. Ahem. NEVER. Plus, I live in America. Does this make sense?? Rose incense wafts across the keyboard. The other day the guy I T.A. for describe his first deflowering experience to a lecture hall full of freshmen. Its really a popular course. But if I accepted every extra student petitioning, I'd have at least 10 extra...and that REALLY would never do. He also told the class "Lost in Translation sucked." I bet he's just jealous of Bill Murray:-)

Irene MacDonald

It Won't Come Smooth

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac1.htm

Portrait

http://courses.ats.rochester.edu/zanzucchi/105E/Mac2.htm

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Want to live in a Giant Milk Bottle?

http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tips/getAttraction.php3?tip_AttractionNo==1341

Good idea

I went to the bookstore but as soon as I got there, I couldn't go in. So instead, I took a nap in the car. My conclusion is: I am depressed.

Look. Stability in life is a nice thing. But when your parents (uh, parent and stepparent) are getting divorced, (yes even though I'm grown up it still bothers me) and your teaching assignment suddenly gets switched and everyone keeps "warning" you about the professor ("but he has it together since he quit drinking") and you don't have any other women to T.A. with, and then you have to teach a book all about suicide (which in this case, unfortunately, is dredging up some really unpleasant memories I'd rather not deal with at the moment) then I'm sorry but STABILITY is not quite happening here! I had a dream that I was supposed to run a marathon and people kept handing me things to put on the tables to give to the marathon runners, and I was so weighted down with stuff that I couldn't run it. So, my temporary solution is: moving around bedroom furniture. Well, that is better, I guess. For now! Feng Shui may be the answer. It seems like whenever I'm in school there is always some sort of conflict. I'm seriously tempted to become a massage therapist or ballroom dance instructor or something.

One more thing: I really think that ABSENT FATHERS should NOT FOOL THEMSELVES. I met the son of the guy who wrote We Were Soldiers Once And Young. A very creative kid. When I met him at a hippie-ish wedding in Virginia, he was dressed as a Care Bear. He doesn't have such a good relationship w/ his dad. My point is, success career wise and family wise may not always go hand in hand. However, I would really like to think that they can.

beer

Back to light-hearted topics.

Name 3 favorite beers

Saranac Caramel Porter (bottle)
Blue Moon Belgian White (bottle)
Hefeweizen with lemon (on tap)

Note that this is not the kind of beer you would normally find at your average fraternity beer drinking party (and I say this on purpose.) Once upon a time, I did have a few cool friends who, for various reasons, joined fraternities in college. However, (I'm going to stray from the "light-hearted topic" part for just a moment) the amount of people I know who had really messed up experiences at some of those parties (girls getting roofies slipped into drinks, etc) has affected my outlook. I hope none of my students waste their time chit chatting about frat parties when they really should be doing something more constructive (like, say, analyzing the effect of the male gaze in The Virgin Suicides.) Unless they can find a really good way to relate it to the book.

Describe some of your most formative beer drinking experiences

When I was two or three and visited some relatives in Michigan, my aunts gave me sips of their beer and told me it was champagne. "Can I have some more champagne?" Also, I was about the same age when my dad was at some point fixing the television (when we lived in New York). When he put his beer can down on the coffee table and I asked if I could drink some of it, he said "just a sip" and then both my parents turned their attention back to the television. The next time they turned around, they found I'd drained a sizeable portion of the can.

(At least, thats how I remember it!)

I also remember that I used to be totally grossed out by the name of one soda, called "Squirt." I thought that "squirt" meant the same thing as "spit." Years later, when I was 19 and went on a study abroad trip in Peru, I drank a kind of corn beer called chicha, which some of the people in a village offered me, and I thought it was pretty good. Then, with a delicious look of glee on her face, the professor told me that the traditional way of making chicha involved masticating the corn, spitting it into a pot, and allowing it to ferment for several days. After seeing the look on my face, she reassured me that it probably wasn't still made that way in this instance!!

I just tried to sign in by using my Blackboard ID and password. Hah. School habits. These exciting things happened today (oh lovely, free Friday):

1) The internet came to the apartment! (but, am I really that excited?)
2) Continued watching "Dead Like Me" (a Showtime series my roommate began renting on DVD.)
Espisode 3, "Curious George" was particularly poignant.
3) Went shopping at the mall during tax free week, which was actually pretty fun. But then I had a stupid, unpleasant interaction with a group of young men. They greatly annoyed me.

So I decided to write a poem about it.

"Gorgeous"

Maybe she shouldn't have taken off her jacket
Hey gorgeous
she shouldn't have
put on make-up, or
worn those earrings
Aw you're not fuckin' gorgeous
or put up her hair,
or walked so tall
but she did, so
they yell
they laugh
as she zips up her jacket.

I took some creative license with it. Its not always the case when I write in the third person, but in this instance, "she" was based on me. However I didn't wear make-up. I'm just reiterating stereotypical things people say about women who attract unwanted attention. I also didn't actually zip up my jacket until I'd walked to 2 or 3 stores, still thinking about it and not feeling any better. It probably wouldn't have bothered me so much, but it wasn't just that, but other things were on my mind, too. Doesn't it suck when other things on your mind are bothering you and as a result some otherwise insignificant thing throws you!!! Punks. >:-P