I'm eccentric. Deal with it.

The Tibor character asked me if I was insane because I was moving boxes out of the garage a few minutes ago. Y'know - first he complains I've left the boxes in the garage too long (since December) and then when I physically start moving them he complains that it's too late at night. What a maroon. See and now he's gone and spoilt the theme of the night for me. I find it more amusing than anything anyhow. So I have been opening these boxes - I think I've waited this long from a mixture of laziness and my inability to deal with the fact that I live here now - I find it quite clever of myself to have packed all the Russian authors in one box - heh, how pretentious.

I think I did this with the express hope that I would laugh at myself when I finally got to putting things away. I must tap my former self on the back for this, looking forward to try to make myself happy - even if only subconsciously. I found an old love letter/poem that I typed up on the antique typewriter I brought the bastard for his birthday from Bratislava. It weighed fifty five and three eights of my love and I carted it all the way from Europe and didn't take it with me when I moved. Because I'm a good person...or something. But I stole the strobe light.

So..this thing I have been thinking about for the past day or two. Mash and I went to see Andrew Bird at the Queen Elizabeth theater down by the Beemo field. It was terribly rainy and annoying to get there. But was it ever worth it. Andrew Bird is one of those people that if you knew them in real life and wasn't a musician etc., you would probably really hate them because of how effortlessly brilliant and amazing they were. This is me just guessing though. Obviously he has had to work really hard to get where he is. Studying classical music and violin in the Suzuki method (which is somewhat controversial) since the age of four - he's had quite a bit of practice. Thirty one years later he's this magical/folksy/avant garde violinist and vocalist. Amazing live, proficient in many stringed instruments.... The thing I love most about him is that he can create a wall of sound with just his violin looped over and over, and did I mention that one of his uncanny abilities is his whistle? Not *a* whistle, *he* whistles. All in all the rain and wind and annoying people talking on the streetcar were absolutely worth the nearly two hour performance that Mash and I experienced. He also had great rapport with the audience, some friendly heckling really tickled him. What I most noticed was how effortless everything he did seemed. This probably means it's anything but easy, however the way he gestured and seemed to think of things off the top of his head - this man is obviously incredibly intelligent (oh come now, he has a song named Scythian Empires, and it's about how he started doodling in class when he was in grade eight and how he became obsessed with the Scythians). Oh, he also likes to sing about biology and physics and the game "Operation". Needless to say his lyrics are witty and it was an enjoyable show.

huh

I'm all dressed and ready to go to school, but I'm also completely immobile. Maybe I'm just too tired.

I find lentils completely incomprehensible!

Another weekend and another great episode of Dollhouse, I especially loved how Topher has a drawer of "inappropriate starches". I'm working on my history essay and I'm watching Band of Brothers in the background because I haven't watched it in a while but I've seen it enough times that it won't completely take away my focus. I'm currently on the episode "Replacements" and one of my favorite moments in the show just passed. Easy Company lands in Eindhoven and private Webster and two of his fellow privates are in the outskirts of the city when a man comes out of his cellar/air raid shelter. He talks to the men and his little boy comes out and Webster gives him this big bar of chocolate. The boy had never tasted it and gets this absolutely delightful expression on his face and Webster is completely enthralled. The accompanying music is incredible and overall it's one of the best moments of the series. Go Michael Kamen (he did the music for Band of Brothers....and also Iron Giant, a Brad Bird film).

Back to essay....

red wheelbarrow

I'm in one of my classes right now and am listening to prof speak. I love his oratory style. The cadence of his speech is spellbinding. One of the things I cannot abide by is when professors pause in their speech and say "um" or are just new and are bad at something akin to public speaking. It completely throws me and takes me out of the context of what's going on. Prof doesn't have this problem. Maybe it's because he's a poet. I just hope he's lecturing next year so I can take some of his courses. A dilemma I face is the substance that lacks in courses. For example, I had professor Johnstone last year for the Science Fiction half course. He was a nice enough professor but he would just say the same thing over and over. Obviously he was "new". This year when I got him for "the Novel" I tried to tough it out but I ended up dropping the course. The sad thing is that it actually influences the way I do in classes. But really I just wanted to extoll the virtues of this excellent prof. We briefly spoke of how he was "sick in bed" all last week. And while he was "sick in bed" all last week he "didn't" go to Costa Rica. What a character. I hope he holds more poetry readings soon. I'm very very interested in the end of Cosmographia.

In other news I dropped a bombshell on my poor mother last night after another intense discussion. Tonight I'll spend the night at Karen's and hopefully get some work done. Woke up and felt like I was hit with a semi. Am currently experiencing hunger pangs and comfort food looks like a cheeseburger. Back to class though. Apparently if we could write just one line as fantastic as "we live in an old chaos of the sun" we could be happy with ourselves as poets. I kind of get this. We're comparing William Carlos Williams and Wallace Stevens. I think I prefer Williams because he's more chaotic with the way he frames his poems. He also actually paints a picture in my mind - I can imagine the thought process behind his choices. Stevens is more linear but instead of necessarily having a complete picture he just has sort of blissed out and amazing word combinations that just hit me in the best places. Like "ambiguous undulations", I love the way these words just kind of work off of each other, go hand in hand.

on a lighter note

As much as I love Stuart...this reading for tomorrows tutorial is absolute balls.

mark the somnolence with truth

I wrap myself around your buried question/through the blisters of confinement/I seek to drain this broken shelter/to refill the pigment case that I have left

I dreamt about you last night. One upside of the dream was that I had an elegantly disheveled apartment. S had recently told me some of the benefits of the new B. I was angry and phoned you and we had one of those hilarious and epic fights we would have over the phone in the early stages of the end. I don't remember what I said but I was sad and angry, eventually you hung up and then I called back and she answered and I said something spiteful, but it made me feel better. I prefer when these things happen in my dreams - not in real life. Perhaps the dreams come because I've been thinking about you late at night before I fall asleep. It starts out as a tickle in my periphery and then it creeps into the forefront. All these things that I have to work through while you are able to un-empathetically ignore everything and forge onward. I would love that level of detachment to wash over me.

Truthfully it's not that easy. I don't understand how one just forgets. Pretty much everything in my life reminds me. Being around men again particularly, specifically people who are somehow enigmatically attractive. For example - if there's someone who smells good I flash back to all the times I would have my head in the crook of your neck and the softness and warmth of the skin there. The coppery smell of your sweat, the tang. And it all rushes back.

tell me it's over/Rusbel awaits/I've been to the surface and nothing is there

Suddenly all I see is the outline of light around a doorway and am walking towards it, my feet are bare on the eons old wood flooring and the hallway is dank. The door opens with a hollow sound and we're in our office again. The conte sketches lie piled under the tables and there are drawings of Warner Brothers and Disney characters all over the black matting on the wall. Home. Home because you are there.

I'm taken back to the time we spent just sitting around, wondering why I didn't appreciate those moments more, why I didn't pay more attention.

I'm in bed and my mind again drifts off towards the apartment, the shirt I can't find, so I take mental inventory of everything I took and everything you left. For some reason I'm reminded of how you left a bunch of paperwork from the chest of drawers. I wonder if you took the white cotton braided wristlet I absentmindedly made. I remember you wore it for months at a time, I don't know why. It reminds me of how delicate it looked on your wrist. How absolutely beautifully exposed your wrist bones were. Damn you and the influence you've had on me in terms of anatomy.

I won't even get into the subject of your face. My hands ache to touch what is not mine to touch any longer. At this point I hate memory, muscle memory, all memory. Damn you. Damn you to hell. But only for those brief several minutes a day when I'm taken back.

I remember having those silent moments of reverie where I would stare at you and be completely outside myself thinking "Here sits this man of his own free will, this beautiful man and he's talking....to me....and he's mine" (for now). Like I knew it wouldn't last.

Who knew we were heading for such a violent fall? Both of us probably. I miss you incredibly - and longingly. As if it hasn't clicked...ah, would you have done it had I not acquiesced? This runs through my head.every.damn.day. Yet still I loved. However the man you are is not the man I fell in love with. Story of life and the world I guess.

I can't believe you when your thirst won't let me go/I am the moment you were always speaking of because....

a depth perception languished in the night

It's incredibly hard trying to find a climbing partner these days, nobody has the time or the money and this makes me cranky. As I survey my room I realize that there is absolutely NO way (even if I have someone to go with) that I will climb tomorrow. I have two essays that I have not even looked at parameters for and they're due in a week. Tantamount to that is the fact that my room is a disgusting pigsty. Clean room takes precedence over essays - can't do essays in a mess. I've been meaning to get this done in the past little while but there's always so much other stuff to do.

Today I got home from work and I decided to watch the Battlestar Galactica special on Space because my prof was one of the panelists - and it was quite hilarious. Then I watched a spectacular episode of Dollhouse and it was great because Joss Whedon's voice really did start coming through in this episode and I love Helo (Tahmoh Penikett). He's known as Helo in BSG but he's one of the main characters in Dollhouse - it's just easier to address him as Helo. What a great stinkin' name.

So now I feel like a freaking fifteen year old - lookit me I love teevee characters. Actually Dollhouse - although somewhat conceptually ripped off from a William Gibson idea in Neuromancer/a Johnny Mnemonic character (see backstory of Molly Millions) - is a veritable ocean of possibility. All of the minute pebbles that have been strewn throughout the first five episodes have converged to drive the plot forward and make it a more enjoyable....a more satisfyingly Whedon-esque intrigue. I like that there's something of a nod to Firefly in there with the character that played Badger as an FBI agent. The character of Topher is a mix of Wash/Kaylee and wholly reminds me of my friend H. Especially with the food references. Ha. It's nice to be following something current because House is really starting to get maybe boring? And that's hard for me to say.