care of cell 44
05.21.05 @ 6:08 p.m.
I'm building a mix tape around the Uncut: The Roots of Tommy CD, or at least two or three songs on there I quite like. It's a pretty cheerful sounding CD, for all that the first track is lyrically constructed as a letter to a person in prison. I tend to give mixes absurd numbers; two CDs full of songs given to me by Martha are respectively 1138 and 3263837, which refer to George Lucas. I'm such a nerd. (3262827 is the garbage smasher in the Death Star that Luke et al are trapped in, god knows why I remember that number but I do.) I'm thinking of naming this one Six of One after the Prisoner fan group that holds conventions. I've been at this for an hour at least, and I'm spending a lot of time staring at my list of tracks and trying to determine an order. It's very hard to do, because I feel this insane need for Mix Tape Aesthetics as dictated by High Fidelity and my guest stints on Rockaholics Anonymous, when Mort would ask us to vary the tempo up and down. I don't claim expertise, just an overattention to such things.
I think I should probably say a few things about Episode III, being a massive mega Star Wars geek. I quite liked it, everything, except maybe Vader's "NOOOOOO" at the end, for extreme cheesiness. Also, it's hard to take Obi-Wan just walking away from what once was Anakin like that. I know that the rest of the movies don't allow it, but put a fellow out of his misery!
The following is an exchange that happened during the interminable wait in the theater before the 12:06 showing. This will probably be one of the nerdiest crowning glories of my life, but such is the nature of me:
Guy (to people behind him): Yeah, in the Jedi Acadamy Trilogy, Palpatine is trained on Yavin IV, at that Jedi Temple. There's the ghost of a Sith lord there.
Me: Palpatine trained with Exar Kun? I don't remember that. I mean, I haven't read that trilogy since junior high, but...
Guy (hushed, to me): I don't know if it's actually true, but I'm trying to sound like I actually know something here. (Abashed) I guess that's pretty geeky.
Me (good natured): Well, me calling you on it is probably worse.
(I turn back to my homework)
Guy (quietly, slighly disgusted) Alpha-geeked by a chick!
Life is good. I told this story to Anne, my feminism teacher, and she had this look of mingled pleasure and horror on her face. I think that I saw this guy or one of the other guys in that group that I had been talking with on the bus on Friday, because I went downtown to the library between classes. I actually got there before it opened and finshed my business pretty quickly, so I bought some food in their lobby cafe and was headed back to school by 11. Getting on the Breeze back to campus, I kind of recognized the guy and he kept looking at me, but I'm far from blending with the crowd with a third of my hair bright blue. Sweet anonymity, you do not belong to me anymore!
The Stepford Wives is a pretty fucking creepy book, if only about 100 pages long, and I hope that the seventies version of it keeps that tone. I know the recent version is a comedy. I'll soon see; we're watching the old version on Monday after a class dinner and the new version in class on Tuesday.
I also recently spent absurd amounts of money on food, shopping while hungry and also not confining myself to a basket but indiscriminately throwing stuff in a car. My HOPE is that this means I will hardly have to shop again while I live here, except for things that will spoil before too long. I can probably pull this off. And, actually, to some small degree it was a matter of restocking. Now I actually have food here instead of always staring at empty cupboards and then going about and buying maybe enough food for a week or two. I have options.
And Apple Struesel muffins, which I have been jonesing for for MONTHS but never see in the grocery store! Green tea, too. I bought a lot of things I haven't had in a long time, things I had bought at the Harris Street house but for some reason never really bought here. I need to stop living so absent-mindedly, with no forethought.
(She says, about to move back home in maybe two months, two and a half, where she will not do any of the grocery shopping unless she wants to conceal sweets from her father.)
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
