Welcome To My Bed

Nose stuck in a book.


I have been making sacrifices for the sake of academia, and I don't know how much longer I can take it. Currently reading Elfriede Jelinek's The Piano Teacher and Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, a combination threatening to spin my brain into outer space. The nature of the narration in both is jarring in both great and troubling ways. This semester is really changing the way I look at books.

The weekend of my Jersey reunion was wonderful, punctuated by the party my housemates threw on Friday night (half the school was in my living room; I was hiding out in my bedroom, or what I lovingly referred to as the VIP room until people I do not consider VIP's barged in and decided it was going to be the coat room instead...if I have never spoken to you in my life, I doubt that leaving your coat on my bed is your best bet whoever you are). Shooting for James's movie on Saturday was grueling, and none of knew our lines very well, but we managed to finish ahead of time and have a great night. My new friend Lizzie and I went Polaroid crazy and documented the evening of quiet debauchery quite well. If only I had a scanner, I would show you. Seeing Maggie and Lizzie off on Sunday was sad for me, but with spring break in two weeks, I guess I should just get over myself, because I'll have time to spend with them then.

Yesterday was a snow day (because New England just doesn't know when to quit), and I woke up at eight thirty anyway, managing to finish all of my homework for today and then some while also taking two or three naps throughout the day and finishing the proof for my new chapbook Finite Differences. I'll have thirty copies printed by Friday afternoon, making this my first serious (non-computer-printer-driven) foray into self-publishing. Hopefully thirty is enough for CUPSI and home, where I am sure to unload plenty of copies (fingers crossed).

This is the first day in a long time where I feel able to breathe, but I know the moment won't last. I'm expecting the onset of a panic attack any day now. I'm more than overdue.

P.S. I am debating whether or not to get a $13 tattoo on Friday the 13th this month. I'd be in Philly, so I'd have to figure out a way to make that happen. But I'm itching for some new ink, and I don't know how much longer I can wait.