hello! it is a languorous sort of saturday-that-feels-like-a-sunday in kzoo, i am making beans and reading a book called “white teachers/diverse classrooms” for my teaching class that consistently devolves into an enumeration of all of the famous and important sociolinguists my professor has worked with over the course of her career. (how many? ALL OF THEM.) the kitten is rolling around on the back stairway to the apartment and sort of running in circles chasing something imaginary. this week alone i will have been to three different readings, which i think is actually more than i went to the two years preceding this one, and including the reading that was actually mine and heather’s. last night my friend franklin and i told a really drunk girl in a bar that our names were dave and julie and had lived here for five years. she told me she liked my glasses.
mostly it is okay here! i don’t really know! i’m almost done with season 7 of the x files and i’ve tried out six grocery stores and five bars and one farmer’s market. (it is a good one.) the water pressure on my kitchen faucet is fucked up and, in a really touching and heartwarming throwback to highlandhaus, my apartment building’s wiring is so old that if i try to use my electric kettle after like 9 pm all the electricity in the apartment goes out. yesterday was riese’s birthday. also, my mother just sent me a bottle of electric stovetop cleaner in the mail. (???)
that’s all for now folks! stay tuned to see whether my students turn in the rough drafts of their paper on monday or not! also, enjoy this photo of my cat looking like an alien.
One day –– one day soon, I hope –– when I am less busy with Broad! (submission deadline in FOURTEEN DAYS, everyone! You have until October 1!) and going on blind dates and, like, doing my actual job, I will get back to blogging properly. I will write about things I find Super Great (e.g. my papasan chair; Spotify; little dogs on the local bike path) and about my daily life (e.g. Thai food; my supposed “spirit animal”; the man I saw jerking off behind a tree at half past midnight two Sundays ago, with his body facing the bike path, and my immediate desire to tweet about it on my phone). I will do this blogging soon. Within a few weeks, let’s say. Max.
Until then, I leave you with this:
Have a lovely Saturday.
Actual conversation from my blind date tonight:
Him: Tell me about yourself.
Me: What about me? What do you want to know?
Him: Anything you want to tell me.
Me: I studied abroad in London for three months. That was great…. It’s my favorite place, actually.
Him: What’s your favorite place?
Him: Oh, have you been there?
Dialogical trip-ups like the above occurred several times in the ensuing 90 minutes of our date. I snuck away a bit early — good thing I promised to go to an ironically Insane Clown Posse-themed birthday party for someone I’d never met, amirite? — but not before he invited me to go clubbing with him, asked me what I was doing tomorrow, asked me what I was doing the rest of the weekend, told me to bail on said party, decided we would definitely see each other again next week, and friended me on Facebook.
Later I went to the ICP party, where I knew (more or less) no one but Emma, and discovered my skin was really sensitive to the cheap clown paint. I danced in the one room that preferred Ashanti and Ja Rule to the Posse, befriended a trio of curlyhaired boys, and rode the subway home looking like a crack addict.