estrogen & epithets

So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu!

The blog is undergoing a change of address, moving out of state.  The doctor has advised, for the health of the blog, to relocate to the healing clime of a Swiss sanatorium, namely rayguntheater.tumblr.com.

See you there, Earthlings!

there was a rainbow in the sky--
(a funny word, rain-bow, a word that wraps itself around the elements.)

the rain-bow shot partway through the air, near vertical,
like a technicolor phallus.

the rain-bow lengthened, and faded, and left a smell,
like pink hazy cigarettes,

and the city gained something,
the sound of something new.


maybe the rain-bow had wrapped around me, too.

Now, after two days it was the Passover and the Jewish Feast of Unleavened Bread.  And the priests and the scribes sought how, arresting him in deceit, they might kill him.  For they said, “Not in the festival, lest there be a riot of the people.” 

And being in Bethany in the house of Simon the Leper, [as] He was sitting at table, a woman came holding an alabaster jar of costly perfume of pure oil of nard, [and] breaking open the alabaster jar, she poured [it] over his head.  Now, there were some being indignant to themselves, “Into what ruin will this perfume come?  For they are able to sell this perfume [for] more than three hundred denarii, and to give [that] to the poor,” and they spoke harshly to her.  But Jesus said, “Let her be: Why do you all trouble her?  She did good works in me.  For you always have the poor with you and whenever you will, you all are able to do good for them, but you all do not always have me.  What she had, she gave: She has [come] ahead of time to pour perfume on my body in preparation for burial.  Now truly I say to you all, Wherever the good news might be proclaimed in the whole world, and what she did, this will speak in memorial of her.”

And Judas Iscariot, one of the Twelve, went away to the priests in order that he might betray him to them.  And hearing, they were glad and they promised to give silver to him.  And he sought how he might betray him conveniently.

This booty has been finely sculpted by desk chairs and Diet Coke.

Where are my Oreo's?


In the Valentine's Day spirit, let us all inhale foil wrapped goodies, contributing to our waist lines and land fills.  Here's wishing ya'll the best pre-bought, consumer based, "nothing-says-I-love-you-like-it" CRAP.

That sounds terrible.  And bitter.  I have nothing to be bitter about. 

I searched the webbies for a Church of Christ dating site.  I found one.  I searched it. 
There are no singles in my area. 

Maxine Hong Kingston is my Valentine.

On my desk right now:

Greek books (2)
Legal pads (2)
Maxi pad (1)
Holy Bible (KJV)
Coffee Cup 1/3 filled with Coffee
The Big Lebowski
AA Batteries (15)
Box of Cereal (Raisin Bran)

Listening to:

Sleeping Beauty

Studying, well...studying.

Founded in 1953 by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

Riprap
Gary Snyder

Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks.
             placed solid, by hands  
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
             in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf, or wall
             riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way,
             straying planets,
These poems, people,
             lost ponies with
Dragging saddles—
             and rocky sure-foot trails.  
The worlds like an endless  
             four-dimensional
Game of Go.
             ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word  
             a creek-washed stone
Granite: ingrained
             with torment of fire and weight  
Crystal and sediment linked hot
             all change, in thoughts,  
As well as things.

 ___________
As well as things:
Can go (indicative), are they (participle) going.

I take the subjunctive to say things
Might go
In any direction,
But soon will hit the sun.

This is the pack I've ran with the longest; my sister, my Azeri, and my Nerdy-Whirl.  We were formed in Senior year Physics class, sitting at the front table because of Aydan's terrible eyesight.  She's a beautiful foreign perfectionist, prone to spells in which she threatens to suicide.  We never believe her.  Heather, I went to kindergarten with her, then we met back up in high school.  She has this wonderfully fanciful side to her, with all of her math and science smarts, and she is one of the most fearless people I know.  Hypnosis?  She's got the book.  Vivid dreaming?  Yeah, she's tried it.  Oh, and spider season?  That might be her favorite time of year.  Kylie is my twin, the one who always gets my jokes.

We've stood in the rain together, singing and dancing, and looking at the town lights from Heather's hill.  We share Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte, the characters acting as stand-ins for Aydan and myself, the ones who haven't had a boyfriend.  And now I use them as substitutes for Heather and Aydan, gone to different colleges.  When Heath is in town, we always pick right back up where we left off, going out for coffee and talking about every little thing.  In fact, Heather has her own blog, still with that new blog smell, that I check religiously (http://thorachu.tumblr.com/).  Aydan, she has my heart with her in Dubai, even though we don't get to talk much.  Before she left Ontario to fly back to Azerbaijan, we all went to the mall.  Aydan was close to a melt down,  needing a new carry on bag, and not being able to find one.  One of my favorite memories is picking out her bag with her, just the two of us.

sweet friend

I’ve missed your lovely face smiling
and round, your dark hair lightening my moods.
my hand is empty

without yours.
Until you return, the ache
will keep, fresh and cold in the ice box,

shoved deep behind
cartons of double fudge
and cookie dough.

I stand in the rain talking
to your empty form as
my dark hair soaks

and clings. my teeth chatter
and gossip, describe,
worry the beads of our life.

I picture you reading my
damp spotted letter in a red sun
dress at a window warm and beaming. 

I do not mean to make
you sad. Laugh so that I may
hear you

six thousand eighty one miles away.

I make films.  And try to write, things like poetry, short stories, novellas.  Much of what I write I tends to be at least semi autobiographical, standing strongly on Modernists and Beats.  I like donuts, a lot.

My sister has a blog, Sundried Sundries, where she is nearing the end of a 30 Day Challenge.  Rather than reiterating the title, I prefer to refer to this journey as The "There We Are; Where Are We?" Challenge, borrowing a quote from the film The Extra Man.  With three more facts about myself, Day One of the Challenge will be complete.  Speaking of The Extra Man, that odd type of film is one of creative aspirations.  Similarly, I aim to become proficient in Koine Greek.  And just once, I would like to be really proud of my own accomplishments. 

So, there we are.  Ten facts about me, and finished with day one. 

Where are we?

Sister:  Why did we skip the first part of Mark?
Me: Maybe it was boring.
Sister: I think Jesus just called "douche" on you.

"Ah, my dear God! though I am clean forgot,
Let me not love thee, if I love thee not."
-George Herbert, Affliction I

 "Batter my heart, three-personed God...

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me."

-John Donne, Holy Sonnet 14

Song: "I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe" OK GO
Art Work: "Marriage a la Mode"  William Hogarth

Or be humbled by others...

"Because of you I will never look at the Butte the same way again, I will always lock my car doors while stopped in the middle of nowhere, I am a better Mao player, I have an incredible rosary, I appreciate people's differences more, and realize that they can actually bring us closer together. Because of you, I've realized that coffee dates can last for four hours, I've laughed so much. Because of you I have a true friend."

Thank you, Aimee.

If these were the last five books on Earth, I think I could get by just fine.

I am deathly afraid of my Brit Lit professor.

Well, until today.

The time to schedule classes for Winter and Spring is upon us, here at The College of Idaho.  Meaning, ya'll better be meeting with your advisers.  Lucky me, I get that adviser that I fear most. 

I'm scared because he grades my papers--he sees what a sham I am, and I'm just positive that he will call me out, and demand my immediate removal from the premises.

I get to his office--and he knows my name, and he has a gigantic Much Ado About Nothing movie poster on his wall, so Kenneth Branagh is smiling down on me the entire time; and the Prof is impressed by my preparedness, and he's excited for my Modern Art class, and he asks me how Greek is going; and he is surprisingly un-scary.

It was a kick in the pants--a trouser punt.

Now I'm all planned out for the year--

Greek Language & Literature II

Theories and Methods of the Study of Literature
Marlowe/Shakespeare/Jonson
20th C British Literature
Modern Art after 1940
New Testament Introduction
Greek Readings

I'm ecstatic, and I'm raring to go!

John Milton, "On Shakespeare"

What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones
To labor of an age in piled stones,
Or that his hallowed relics should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
For, whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving
,And so sepúlchred in such pomp dost lie
That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.

The heater makes the smoke detector wail.

Under circumstances that did not include a 52 degree rainy day, I could make a joke of that, but...well, I'm cold.  But mostly, the heater has just gotten me mad.  I have cleaned the filter, and,m if the heater would open more, I would more than attempt to eradicate the dust build up in the coils inside.  But the heater is against me.

And while I try to keep myself from going postal, and blaming the school for freakin' installing a heater that cannot be cleaned (one more reason to hate the school, right?), I look out the window at the chilly, rain soaked yard of the College of Idaho, I am reminded, almost violently, of Bosch's triptych, The Garden of Earthly Delights.  The outer painting depicts the world after the flood, which, obviously, should lead me to a post about God's love, but, rather, reminds me that things here at the school--They are going to get better.  I just gotta hold out.

And change my major to Art History.

Concerning a person who sat next to me in English Lit yesterday:

Do drugs smell like bad cologne, Big Red chewing gum, and sweat?

Because I've never smelt them before.