"But ah'm not afraid of dyin'. Cause I know that when I get to heaven there are gonna be these wonderful trees, and ah'm gonna climb them. But you know what? Instead of leaves and flowers, those trees are gonna have fried eggs, and delicious Virginia ham, and big heaping bowls of biscuits and sausage gravy. And one day, Sammy, you're gonna meet me there, and we're gonna climb those breakfast trees together, and it's gonna be delicious and we're gonna be happy until the end of time."


Certified Provider of Booty Tech Support

Oh, holy crap!
I was reading the lineup for Sundown in the City and getting a little depressed, but THEN I got to May 26 and found Drive-By Truckers, followed by Rilo Kiley, followed by My Morning Jacket, and Sleater-F-in'-Kenney a couple of weeks later! WTF happened? I had to double check to make sure I was looking at the right site. Knoxville? Guess I've got a block of booked Thursdays in my future.

I'm starting religion around this guy. He's been reading my mind, so he must be a god.

I'm getting really fed up with being a woman, and it has nothing to do with the punctuation at the end of this sentence.

Reading: Hemingway- A Moveable Feast
Watching: The New Yankee Workshop


36 and Counting.

Two down. We're brilliant. No new assholes of which to speak.
This morning I discovered the world's best place to eat breakfast is a few blocks from my house. Then I rocked two crits. We literally drew blood from the toe of the broken leg of our 3-D professor, with a rusty knife, no less. Unplanned, but still, a nice touch.
I wonder if that will affect our grade...
He seemed a good sport, but we quickly got a reputation. Performed a damn miracle getting out of glass crit awake and unscathed. I'm my own hero today. Went for the hat trick and bought some wine a few counties over.
Wine! I'd forgotten what it was like, all red and grapey, with just a touch of fermentedness.
With that brilliant application of 26 years of vocabulary building, and 5 of vintological study, I very obviously retire.

Throne of Blood

P.S.- Kurosawa after being up for 36 hours? Hideously naive on my part.


I'm on Fire!

I'm on Fire!
Originally uploaded by glasshole.

My grandmother's words to me in high school still ring true,"Y'all are the partienest bunch I evuh did see."



You're Love in the Time of Cholera!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the one, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff could get you killed.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

A Mere Suggestion

Far be it for me to suggest what you should do with your precious free time, but this is pretty sick. Good sick.


Scary Rabbit Time Travel Adventure

This here is a post. A "but I don't want to read my homework" post.
Despite not really having the time to do so, I've been watching as many films as possible lately. I think this is due to my innate need to get every penny out of Netflix. It's a sickness. I need help. An incomplete list of some that stick out in my mind:
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (watched it twice, back-to-back, then ripped it because I couldn't stand to be separated from it)
I Heart Huckabees (I heart Marky Mark)
Downtown 81(starring Jean-Michel Basquiat, Debbie Harry, Fab Five Freddy, and Kid Creole and the Coconuts, to name a few. The soundtrack kills me, you should see it)
In America(sweet, and not nearly as depressing as I thought it would be)

It just recently dawned on me (I'm a little slow) that I need to see Sin City the minute I get back to Knoxville.


I Never Met a Comma I Didn't Like

I woke up in a van in the woods this morning. Sandwiched between my ex and his sister. That kind of week.
Wicked party last night. Anderson, being an highly interesting and creative person, knows a large amount of highly interesting and creative people, thus leading to highly interesting and creative events. Stoopidity, incited by, among other things, a keg of Flying Dog IPA. I hope Anderson's floor doesn't cave in soon, we really did fuck it up proper. That's what you get for rocking out, I suppose. Surprisingly, we didn't burn anything.
Gonna miss that guy, and all the other fuckers who are getting out this semester. They're good kids, and the place won't be the same without them.
There's a damn hurricane of change hitting this place. I have faith there will be survivors. Hopefully, I will be on that list.

Plagued with free time? This will take care of a little of it.


Maker's Maker's
Originally uploaded by glasshole.

I drink bourbon now. I'm in trouble.


Originally uploaded by glasshole.

Anderson's band, Beyonce, made a farewell performance in honor of Anderson's senior show, which opened last night. Major buzzkill moment when the crowd broke the floor with frenetic dancing. Do you get your deposit back if you cause structural damage?
The lighting was great, but totally ruined by the flash. Picture flashbulbs and multi-colored strobes.


I'll Tell You Now, I Keep it On and On

Well, this has been a banner week (what is it, Wednesday?). I'm on antibiotics for my stab wound (self-inflicted, and entirely accidental), exhausted (self-inflicted, and entirely necessary), and single (mutually-inflicted,and entirely aimiable). I can't say much will be changing between me and Ross, we've been just friends for longer than we cared to admit, this development is really about words, titles, and future living arrangements. Monday we had a (pretend) fight about who dumped who, if that's any indication of the tone of the matter. I'm feeling positive at the moment, even if that gets peppered occasionally with "what the fuck have I/we done?" I take comfort in the fact we've been giving this several months worth of thought, as heat of the moment breakups just aren't my style. The difficulty now stems from the emotional and tangible logistics of becoming myself again. I'm slowly realizing how much of my behavior in at least the last year has been situational, and finding my way back (or, rather, forward) will be interesting, to say the least.
My New Year's resolution for 2003 was to give up dating, relating, and casual sex altogether for as long as possible, which was, apparently, about a month. Now, here's a little under two-and-a-half years later, and I know better than to make any such claim, but may I just say here and now, you will not hear me utter the phrases "my boyfriend", "significant other", or "taken" for quite some time.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some profiles to update.

Listening To: Viva Voce - The Center of the Universe


Again with the Strummy Strummy La-La

And here I am, alone in a dark house, avec trois grandes bouteilles de limonade à boire avant matin. Suffering for the art, if you will. I wonder which will run out first, the limonade...or the vodka?
Surely you didn't expect me to drink three litres of limonade without a little incentive.
If anyone needs me, I'll be here on the couch, contemplating the icing on the oh-so complicated cake that is my life as I know it.
That, and pissing every thirty minutes or so.


Confessional Confections

1. I want to live in a place where I can paint the walls ridiculous colors. And knock holes in the walls if I feel like it. And plant flowers and trees I'll be around to see. But I don't want to get stuck somewhere.

2. Sometimes I walk by the clay studio, and peep in the windows. I get a little jealous of those kids calmly sitting for hours, listening to their music that isn't drowned out by fans and fire and yelling, working whenever they feel like it, working on a piece until it's just right, sweating nary a drop, no smoke in their eyes. But I'd probably crack under the pressure of being able to work whenever I want. And clay does a shitty job of transmitting light. Fire rules.

3. I have a crush on every boy. Except the stupid and conceited ones. And that's most of them. Which makes the ones who aren't even harder to dismiss.

4. 99 therefore 18

Listening to:
Leaning Against the Wall- Kings of Convenience

Fritz Lang and Foam Rubber

Fritz Lang and Foam Rubber
Originally uploaded by glasshole.

"It's well we cannot hear the screams...

...we make in other people's dreams."

Whew. I needed that. DJ Beck's Midnight Salad went off brilliantly.
The Rhys rules. If I were remotely poetically inclined, there would be a tribute here. Thanks for saving the party from projectorlessness (fucking library), and also for making Chuck bring you (and himself). Also big ups to absolutely everyone who made the evening what I'm told was fabulous. I will cling to the few assorted blurry, yet fond, memories of the affair I was afforded by my decimated grey matter. I'm still sore all over. What is it so much fun to tackle people when you're wasted? And just how did I end up on the very bottom of what felt to be a thirty person dogpile? I may never know.
My most heartfelt gratitude goes out the the best lot of friends a girl could have, who journeyed from all points of this state. You all deserve medals for being so hardcore. Thanks for the 'Cock, Mikey f'-in Ha, I owe my total blackout to you.
So happy we got to talk to Jesse, even if I don't really remember it so much. I dreamed you were partying with us too, dollface. Miss you like hell. We'll recreate it for you when you get back.
So, not to leave anyone else out, I heart Adrock, Anna, Michael, Randy, Scott and all the coolest crafttown persons (of which there are many) for showing up.
The nose is on the grindstone now, I'll see you soon enough.

P.S.- Yay me, I sold all my pieces in the Visual Art Society's sale! Suckers.

Listening to: Nothing from Nothing - Quasi