purely conjectural

Tuesday, April 10, 2007


Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Today I am wearing a shirt I found [stole].

I find war propaganda, especially that from World War II, to be so effective. I watched a documentary on women in the military today, and something about the soaring heroic trumpet line always makes me think of youth shattered and genuine patriotism--which I know is crap, so the propaganda is particularly clever, I guess.

I need to see 300, and, in particular, Grindhouse. These movies were made for my sort of terrible sensibilities--something about a girl with an AK47 for a leg. Call me creepy, but that's just hot.

Speaking of machine guns, I am having a troubling resurgence of religious feeling. Somehow, despite all of the scientific evidence and stirring philosophical discussion and years of doubt, the feeling keeps sneaking back steadily. The fact that I'm fairly certain that it comes out of a desire for it to be truth, rather than the actual conviction that it is truth, makes me feel pretty plaintive.

Today it's raining and it's carnival! No fair. I debated getting a funnel cake, but my shoes were getting wet--the 3 year old in me is pissed of at not caving into such sugary deliciousness over such a pathetic reason. And the 21 year old in me is pissed at missing Sharon Olds last night. Although I think I was less upset at the fact that I missed her (quite honestly, I think that no one can top Neil Gaiman, particularly not Feminist Warriors of Lit'rature) than that I thought Tim would great me in Milton today ranting about how he not only saw her read, he met her. But he was mourning about funding troubles, something with which I can certainly sympathize, so all my pitiful excuses and cunning remarks I had planned were all to no use.

It makes me feel convinced Nick is my soulmate when I can plot such face-saving actions with him participating with an equal, if not greater, degree of enthusiasm. My picture widget keeps flashing artistic pictures he's sent of himself, and I have come to the realization that I have missed him more intently in this past week than I have for the entire 8 months that he's been gone previously. Had a dream about strictly making out with him--no parts of our bodies touching but our mouths. The things I miss unexpectedly...

Posted by stochastic :: 2:16 PM :: 1 Comments:

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