It seems sadly fitting that Wisconsin's union-busting GOP power grab should commence on Ash Wednesday, at the beginning of Lent. For many people, for many families, it means a very real and tangible beginning of a long and arduous journey beset with oppression and filled with uncertainty. It is true that we are but dust, and that reminders of that fact can be helpful in this season of penitence, but when you get down to it, a lot of the people now facing dramatic benefit reductions and layoffs already had a decent sense of humility; they are teachers and service workers, people who spend their lives in the service of their communities. More and more, the people who need Lent the most are those who have removed themselves from community with others, who exempt themselves from rules and distance themselves from the morality and common concerns of the people upon whose labor they float. I have long since stopped the practice of abstaining from things for Lent. This season, instead of giving something up I am adding something: prayers for my sisters and brothers who are being punished for the crime of caring for each other in the face of oppression, for holding human dignity at a higher value than avarice. Solidarity forever.

I'm officially a graduate student. This is terrifying. Someone remind me why I'm in school again?

As some of you may know, today is Election Day for the city of Chicago. The mayoral race is filling the headlines, and there are ward races as well. Rahm has been all but handed the keys to the car, and Miguel del Valle, my vote, is almost certain to miss a runoff (if there even is a runoff). I am left in my usual position of voting for the person I want to get the job, who never gets it. My local experience of political futility prompts me to think on the major issues facing the nation which are themselves mired in futility.

I can think of a few quick, idealistic and logistically impossible fixes to help right the ship, none of which I expect to see any time soon. I'll start with unemployment, as that's the most pressing issue (according to the populace at large, anyway; the GOP seems to think otherwise). First, since we live in a capitalist nation, and we've recently demonstrated with some certainty that trickle-down economics are unsustainable (I would just come out and say they don't work, but they seem to be working fine for four or five hundred millionaires who have far more clout than I and would no doubt disagree), it's time to reverse the flow. Instead of giving money to rich people in the hope that they will hire people, give money to poor people who will turn around and buy things, creating demand and generating both the revenue and incentive to create more jobs. That squares unemployment, but butts heads with the current hot topic of the deficit. In very brief terms, the 2010 budget accounted for 2.33 trillion dollars in revenue and 3.59 trillion in outlays, adding 1.25 trillion to the already sizable national debt. I'll agree that that's a problem worth solving, but my method for solving it goes against everything the people raising hell on the topic hold dear. There's really only two things that can be done to balance a budget: spend less and earn more. To solve the deficit problem in three easy steps: 1. Cut defense spending in half, at least. That includes pulling out of the Middle East and a great deal of nuclear disarmament, but still leaves us spending more on "defense" than the next five countries in the world combined, maintaining our dubious position of military superpower. 2. Throw out the tax code. Institute a new tax system with no loopholes, no benefits available only to those who can afford accountants versed in the arcane, none of it. Just a simple progressive and aggressive tax scaled from 10% to 70%, with new tiers at 1m and 2.5m and possibly higher to account for the drastic increase in income disparity. 3. Single-payer health care. It provides a healthy baseline for the entire population, keeping the proletariat working, while saving money on uninsured emergency room visits and administrative overhead. Win-win. Having taken care of unemployment and the deficit, we can address education. In my new and improved budget, there's money to throw at the problem, but there's a much simpler (albeit still unpopular) solution to the problem: pool public school funding by state, not by town. The rich can still send their children to private schools to get their divinely-granted leg up in the world, and everyone across the board benefits from a general population with a valid high-school education, which can only happen with adequate funding. Last, for now, and not least, the ineffectual legislature. This one has two fixes, both of which are perhaps the most likely to occur out of any of my radical proposals. First, revoke the Citizens United decision. More than revoke it, actively ban corporations from campaign donations. Corporations are not people, they are made up of people, each of whom has the right to donate to a political cause. This helps to stem, however slightly, the tide of special-interest groups holding control of Congress. Secondly, institute nationwide instant runoff voting. The benefit of this system, over and above efficiency and savings in preventing costly runoffs and recounts, is that it allows for a three- or four-party system to emerge, where legislative debates can cease to serve as a zero-sum game, with both winner and loser tallying political points, but rather a substantive dialogue based on merits and the will of the people. /rant

That went for longer than I anticipated. I recognize there are many problems with my idealistic dreams, and I welcome, nay, crave debate, so please feel free to engage in such in the comments. In the meantime, I have to go and cast another near-meaningless vote.

Deep respect to the people of Egypt for achieving political goals through (mostly) nonviolent protest (yes, I know there was fighting going on both ways, but given that the protesters didn't instigate the violence I still give them a fair deal of credit). I pray that the next few months progress smoothly and productively.

Whoever thought that adapting Atlas Shrugged into a multi-part film series is both a savvy marketer and a blazing idiot. Not only is the book incredibly boring material for a film, but I can only imagine it will inflame the shallow political passions of the growing hypocritical Randian faux-libertarian political movement currently mucking up the nation's legislatures. And in answer to the question, John Galt is a self-serving egotistical ass who is the last person to look to as a role model for society.

I intend to begin writing poetry again, after a long hiatus, but I find it hard to find the impetus. I know that I should not write unless I must write, unless there is no choice in the matter, but the fierce emotions that have driven me in the past are subdued, and I have lost grasp of the demons with which I have wrestled previously or the joys which took me soaring.

Warmth has returned. Spring is forcing its way back into the world.

Football isn't really my sport. I'll root for my local team (Bear down!), and for Michigan out of filial association, but I don't have any vested interest in the game. Heck, I couldn't even tell you what was going on on the field until about a year ago. But for the past eight years, I've made a special point to watch the Super Bowl among friends (that first year was just on account of the party; since, it's been a commemoration of that first party where I met the woman who would become my wife). In all of these years, the one thing about the event that's been a constant source of guaranteed entertainment: the commercials. This year... not so much. Vaderwagen was cute, but had already made the rounds on the internet. The Bridgestone beaver was worthy of a chuckle. Some were downright tasteless and offensive (I'm looking at you, Groupon). Not even the halftime show could redeem the spectacle--the Black Eyed Peas were, as one clever headline ironically noted, "so 2000 and late." Fortunately, there were perks off-screen, in the form of old friends, new acquaintances, and some wicked good chili. I'll begrudge Green Bay their victory, both for beating the Bears and for beating my Grandpa's Steelers, and largely forget about the game until next year--that is, until Madison Avenue gets its act in shape and tries for better.

Winter is a season marked by death. The flowers and trees wither and fade, and the earth is purged of life under the weigh of frost. What makes winter so hard to endure is that, despite the knowledge of new life in the coming spring, the bleak gray expanse of winter continues for so very, very long.

My friend Paul passed away this weekend. I hadn't talked to him in many years; he moved away back around when we started high school, and we lost touch fairly quickly. He endured cancer for years, and spent a great deal of time in what one could easily call the winter of his life. However, from what I've seen of his life through the internet over the last ten years or so, Paul lived in defiance of the season. He filling the monochromatic horizon with vibrant colors by traveling and playing music and spreading the love which I remember so keenly among his family and friends.

So here's to Paul, who, having reached the end of his long and painful winter, has finally reached the everlasting spring of new life in Christ, in memory of the life and love he shared among us, and in community with his family as we all look forward to eventually sharing in that new life with him.

Today is the feast day of St. Francis de Sales, patron saint of journalists and writers, which seems like as good of an excuse as any to give this long-dormant experiment another go-round. Much has happened since I've been here last; I've graduated from college, gotten married, miraculously found work amidst a recession, found an apartment, and as of today completed an application to attend graduate school part-time alongside my full-time work. Real Life™ has proven to be dramatically more challenging than expected, and the past year and a half has been a roller-coaster ride of deferred joys and reality checks. There are still bumps and changes in the road ahead; however, for the first time in a long while, there's a clear sight line into the future. Now my one- and three- and five-year plans are more than vague ideals, they are concrete itineraries with milestones and road signs and maybe even a rest stop or two. I'm reconnecting with old friends, developing new relationships, and more or less finding some semblance of balance throughout.

Part of this recalibration of Real Life™ has been wrapping my head around living in Chicago. By the time I left Evanston to go to the motherland (New England) for college, I had no expectations of returning for any significant length of time. I kept coming back to Chicago over breaks and such, but always considered myself as "staying" here rather than actively living here. With my family having scattered far and wide, I stayed in Chicago with my in-laws post-graduation for the sake of free rent. This in turn led to job hunting here in the city for convenience, and now I've dug in for a fairly long haul, with solid employment and a degree program locking me in for a minimum of the next four years, having been in my current apartment for a year and a half already. The last place I lived for that was Evanston, which is close enough to Chicago to make this by far the place I've lived the longest, especially when one adds the guaranteed next few years. I'm not sure why I find that prospect unsettling; there are many things I enjoy about my current scenario, but something just doesn't sit right.

I'm catching up to the rest of the world and watching through The Wire. It really is a great example of good storytelling. An unfortunate side effect, however, is that it leaves me with a craving for crab chips--a difficult craving to satisfy in my neighborhood.

More to come; how much more is still to be determined. We'll see how long I last this time.

Being able to watch yesterday's ceremonies in D.C. in decent quality: awesome.

Bishop Robinson being scheduled prior to the live feed: incredibly disappointing, meriting serious explanations on somebody's part.

Ack. Still working on getting into this habit again. Today's bullet point thoughts:

1. I had coffee today with a friend of my boss. She (the friend, not my boss) works in editing, and had helpful advice regarding my upcoming foray into the world of publishing. More and more I'm convinced that this career choice is the right one.

2. A collection of thoughts re: college basketball. First, I am well-pleased with UNC's recent downfall. Second, ESPN streams some games live on its website, which is a lifesaver out here in the boonies where there's no TV signal. Third, and perhaps most importantly, this is a prime example of why you always, always, block the charge. Because if you don't, you get run down and look like a damned fool.

3. Vermont is cold and snowy. As usual.

4. It's really sinking in that five months from now I'll be married. This is a concept with which I am totally OK.

I talk a lot about the intersection of poetry and sound. Many people are sick of hearing me discuss the topic, I'm sure. Given that, here I want to share an experiment I tried in which poetry and image intersect–not in the usual concrete poetry method which involves using the words themselves to create images, but by using a pre-existing visual work by one of my favorite artists as inspiration and complement. This will be the first in a series; not of poems associated with images, but of poems which, for one reason or another, will not be incorporated into my senior project compilation.


Triumph Over Mastery II, Mark Tansey

***

Triumph Over Mastery II (in honor of Mark Tansey)

I dip my roller, white, ascend
the ladder to begin my work
attending to the task at hand.
A rippling muscled arm extends
much like my own as I erase
the arm, two hands, a head, a cloud
now nothing. Pure, unblemished white.
As I proceed I fail to see
my shadow, painted over like
the chapel ceiling I negate.

Music is worthless unless it can make a complete stranger break down and cry. -Imogen Heap, "The Dumbing Down of Love."

I was listening to music while washing the dishes tonight, as is my wont (an old habit acquired from the days when the dishwasher didn't work and Dad and I had to deal with the sink every night), and something happened. As Dar Williams sang "The Christians and the Pagans," I was moved to tears for reasons beyond me at the moment. I sank to my elbows, rinsed the suds off of my hands, and let go. I'd heard the song a number of times before, and I think what struck me this time was the timing. It's Advent now, and I've been sniping at all of the plastic wreaths and holiday sales and radio giveaway specials that get the 12 days of Christmas wrong (the 12 days of Christmas being the day of and the 11 days after, not the 12 days leading up to Christmas). On top of all that, I've been bogged down by schoolwork and a level of despair and cynicism regarding the world as a whole, what with riots in Greece, a global economic collapse, and general human selfishness and hate. In the midst of my funk, Dar gave me a picture of what ought to be this season, how we should behave. Regardless of religious belief or affiliation, this winter will be cold and lonely, metaphorically and literally, and if people can come together like in the song, "finding faith and common ground the best that they were able," then maybe, just maybe, there's some hope left for us all. And I am ever grateful that there are people like Dar out there coming up with beautiful reminders like this, because thanks to them will be even more who will hear and think twice about what it is they're celebrating this season and with whom and why.

There are many things for which I give thanks this year. The Macy's Parade getting RickRolled by Rick Astley himself, live in New York, is not one of them. Although I do expect a good response to this event from XKCD.

It's not actually raining here–more like partly cloudy and a temperature that won't make up its mind–but this post's title is pertinent because Laura and I are going to go see Dar Williams live in concert tomorrow.

Chalk one more up on the "Si is compensating for never having been to Lilith Fair" list.

I am well-pleased.

I'm putting most of my time and effort into work these days. I have a system, and it's keeping me on track, but it means that I end up having little time for other things. Other things require energy, which I'm rationing right now for obvious reasons (plus I'm coming down with something, which means that the stock is low already). But in reflecting on my current situation, I started thinking about other things I would like to put energy into, time and money permitting. I'm going to list some here, in the hopes that public documentation, pressure, and opportunity bring some of them to pass:

1. Foreign Languages. I want to learn ASL and Spanish, out of a sense of responsibility. It only seems right to be able to communicate. In an ideal world where I had the leisure, I would Gaelic and Sinhalese as well just for the kicks.

2. Exercise. I know that it's good for me, both physically and psychologically. The problem is that I'm a lazy bum with no motivation and no discipline.

3. EMS. I want to finish up an EMT course, take the time to volunteer with an ambulance service, and spend enough ride time to determine how much of a part of my life it'll end up being.

4. Cooking. I want to take a couple of weeks and just cook, cook, cook until I feel confident about the whole affair. I know I can do it, I just need to practice enough to really be sure of myself in the process.

5. Music. I need to get back into singing, I want to pick up another instrument of two (maybe finally learn guitar, or keyboard, or just mesh the two and learn to play the keytar), and I want to have an established public outlet for said music. In practical terms, this likely means either or both of a church choir and a cover band.

Hold me to these, O people of the interwebs. Just give me some slack until I finish my papers, OK?

I'm back in the local ambulance company's classroom to round out my medical training: Vermont teaches EMT programs in modules, and it's generally expected that First Responders will take at least the first two modules, which certify you to administer an AED and pressurized oxygen (oxygen is a prescription medicine. Who knew?). It's a strange thing, conceptually, to work through the question of why the hell I'm doing this. Do I have a hero complex? To an extent, I'm sure that's a factor. There's an element of gut instinct telling me to do it. My therapist would also point out long-standing issues regarding my childhood and a subsequent propensity to view situations as crises and proceed to resolve them. I'm not sure if this is something that will continue to develop in my life, or if it's just something to do while I'm in this place and this time. But I'm definitely prepping myself now for wherever this particular call leads.

First, three days ago, police started prepping for riots in cities heavily populated by African-Americans.

Now, a woman in Pittsburgh has been allegedly robbed and beaten by an African-American man–who she alleges was provoked to anger by her John McCain bumper sticker.

I really don't like the direction this is going. It's far too easy to visualize riot police forming barricades around voting centers. I don't have the option of voting early in my town, but if you do, I'd recommend it–especially if you're in Pittsburgh.

EDIT: The woman in Pittsburgh has confessed to making the story up.

Dear Myself,

Do you remember way back when you were getting ready to propose? There was a point at which you had a twinge of concern regarding the coinciding obligations of planning the wedding and getting your final batch of coursework done. Remember that?

Yeah. About that. Not your best move ever.

Love,
Si

One thing that I love about my school is the student-organized Secret DJ program. Once or twice a semester, a collection is taken of people's names and mailbox numbers. Each person receives someone else's information, and is asked to make a mix CD for that person. The one that I received this time around, over and above being labeled "For Si, Whom I Love from Afar," had a delightful blend of favorites (Nickel Creek, Toto, Traveling Wilburys, Iron and Wine, etc.) and new sounds (Martin Sexton, Jonathan Richman, and The Ark, to name a few). I'm pleased with how well the system has been working out, and it tempts me to try and organize a similar event across the interwebs. It's probably something that should wait until I build up a regular reader base again, but I'd be really intrigued by what could come out of it. What would the Accordion Guy send to the Anglobaptist? What would RageBoy send to Dooce, or vice versa (either way, that one bends my mind)? Most importantly, what parts of the recipient's blog would be used in judging what would go on their mix? I'll let this idea float for a while, and if people want to jump on this, let me know and I'll try to make it happen.

Tunes: "This Piece of Poetry is Meant to Do Harm," The Ark.

I've noticed recently just how frequently we talk about various conditions of health in wholly inaccurate terms. When someone says they have "a cold," they refer not to a particular disease of infection but to an assortment of various (often generic) symptoms that could be caused by any particular bacterial or viral strain or infection. I reflect on this now because I feel sickly (which, despite appearances, is an adjective, not an adverb). I'm using this word in a quite similar situation to my previous example: as a catch-all term to incorporate my stiff jaw, indigestion, exhaustion, and sinus pressure into a single affliction about which I can then conveniently complain. This series of irritations comes ironically close on the heels of a post-presidential-debate discussion I had last night about various forms of health care–which, both candidates might be surprised to hear, is not the same thing as health insurance. In fact, the two are extremely strange bedfellows: insurance companies thrive by receiving payments to not provide healthcare (or, more specifically, the funding for healthcare). If I ran an insurance company, I'd be thrilled by either candidate: If McCain wins, I could compete by cutting the meager services I actually offered and thus decreasing overhead; if Obama wins, then a number of people would be bound by law to purchase my services or the services of a competitor. Either way, it's a boon for the industry. As a citizen who's not feeling well, however, I cringe in the knowledge that no matter the outcome of the current political race, I still won't be able to afford many healthcare services that would be greatly beneficial to my quality of life, such as preventative care. The worst part, though, is knowing that if I can't afford healthcare, there are many, many more who can't even afford the pieces that I receive. So I'm tucked in with a glass of water and a bottle of vitamins, praying that something will be done to keep people from ailing and dying from common diseases with simple–yet prohibitively expensive–treatments.

It's been over a year since I've written here. I apologize to then-regular readers and those who linked to me for disappearing from the series of tubes, and I'm glad to be back. There are three aspects of my life that I want to touch on as context for where I'm writing from these days:

1. Academia
I've been cracking the books for my Plan of Concentration (senior thesis project, for those unfamiliar with Marlboro College). I realized this term that I needed a grounding in theoretical literary criticism to really make my point, and as such I'm reading Eagleton's Literary Theory: An Introduction, Lentricchia's After the New Criticism, and a collection of essays titled Contemporary Literary Theory. It's all a bit of a mess to dive right into; I'm only just getting a sense of what Frye and Poulet and Derrida were on about. It would be wonderful to have the time and leisure to read through their primary works, but that's just not an option right now. I should have enough of the background to make my case over the next couple of weeks, though.

2. Work
I left my longtime work-study job in the computer lab (where the primary job description was to wait for the printer to run out of toner, then change the toner cartridge and repeat step 1) for a position tutoring in the academic support services office. I've been planning for a while now to go into editing when I graduate, and this job has done everything to encourage that path. I find fulfillment in the faces that come in and out of my office, asking questions about style manuals, comma splices, and paragraph structure. The joy of seeing someone come in a second time and learning that they took something away from their last visit, that I was able to help them work through their problem, is a feeling that I look forward to experiencing in a professional environment.

3. Home
For the first time in my life, and thankfully from here on out, I'm consistently living in the same place as my wonderful fiancée Laura. She graduated this past Spring and moved out to VT to be near me. I get to spend most of my days with her, as opposed to the two or three days per two or three months that we could arrange over school breaks. She's a good influence on me academically, and I can't express just how drastically my day-to-day life has improved on account of her.

3.5 Home (the rest of it)
The previous section ended up being much more about Laura than I had planned or expected, but it makes sense in retrospect. My home life outside of my time with Laura is, depending on which aspect you're looking at, either in a state of extreme flux or just plain boring. I still spend time with my friends at school, but not nearly as much as I used to on account of the workload we all have, and as far as my family goes, I have trouble keeping track of who's where when doing what and for how long. Either way, it's hard for me to extrapolate in great detail on either one; I don't have the background for one and the other means more to me if it's not noteworthy and merely an accepted part of my everyday life.

This blog began, in its original form as a way for me to keep in touch with family and friends when I was abroad in Sri Lanka. It shifted to become a place where I shared with a broader audience my thoughts, musings, and verbal art. With all the changes I've been through over the past several years, it's not hard for me to see how I had trouble drawing a line between what was and wasn't alright to expose. At this stage, I can see a place for this sort of expression in my life: a virtual location where I can talk about issues personal and global, without sharing more than I'm comfortable sharing.

And on that note, I have to go write a paper taking New Criticism to task for discounting extra-textual context. I'll be back. Soon.

Once again, I find myself (yes, Debra, I find myself) in the position of not feeling comfortable saying what I want to say here. It's a tough situation: on the one hand, I feel like blogging is good for me and a useful exercise; on the other, I can write paragraphs and paragraphs in this little box labeled "Article Body" and it doesn't do much good if I can't bring myself to hit the gray button that says "Post."

I just don't know what to do with this.

Aaaaand I'm back. I said I'd keep posting, but that kind of got interrupted as my laptop has up until just now been in the shop for a display repair. Let's see if we can get this back on track, shall we?

Why is it that radio stations will censor the words "giving head" when Lou Reed sings "Walk on the Wild Side," neither of which are inherently inappropriate for all audiences in and of themselves, but not the word "faggot" in the Dire Strait's Money for Nothing?

Someone's got their priorities out of whack.

During my recent illness, I resorted to watching the YouTube/CNN Democratic Debates in an attempt to alleviate my boredom. The format, I thought, worked rather well. While I've heard complaints that the presidential race is being dragged down into entertainment instead of good old-fashioned civic duty, I figure that since civic duty doesn't seem to be working, entertainment is an alright place to start. Some of the candidates surprised me. Obama, whose progress I have eyed with general approval, let me down by playing politics too much. He changed questions around so that he cound answer the ones he wanted to answer and spent too much time saying "I'm the best one" instead of "here's how I would respond." His rhetoric regarding a change in politics rings hollow after such behavior. Meanwhile, Richardson pleased me by plainly answering a couple of questions and being fairly straightforward on the whole, and Kucinich, while excitable, proved himself firmly dedicated to making sure that the military mess we're in stops–whether he's elected or not. Unfortunately, both of those two appear to be lacking in "electability" (how I loathe that word), especially put up next to the competition. We'll see how the rest of the campaign trail finishes out, I guess.

JJ Abrams, the mind behind notoriously devious TV plotlines as Alias and Lost, is working on a monster movie. However, the film is not being marketed in a traditional way. With a subtle flair, the as-of-yet nameless film has a poster featuring a decapitated Statue of Liberty, a teaser trailer that does an excellent job of raising questions instead of answering them, and three online places for people to attempt to dig up clues: 1-18-10.com has a collection of photographs time-stamped from the point at which the monster attacks, some of which have notes handwritten on the back; Slusho is a made-up slushie-style drink that has seen appearance in Alias and apparently has something to do with the film as well, although I have a lot of trouble trying to dig anything useful out of the bizarre website; and it appears that the protagonists of the film have their own Myspace accounts. The few things that JJ Abrams has said about the movie only add to the suspense. The monster was inspired by Godzilla, but is not a sequel or remake of any other work. It is not a parasite not an oversized anime-style robot. There are just enough hints for me to drive myself mad wondering about the end result–which, at the end of the day, means that the ad campaign has worked extremely well.

I've been pretty nastily sick for a while, and although I'm more or less on the mend now, I got to thinking in my illness that I should get off of my ass and pick this up again.

The first order of business: Harry Potter (no spoilers ahead, don't worry). Wow, that was an incredible book to read. I really want to go back now and reread the earlier books to get a sense of perspective regarding Harry's development over the years. He came a long way from that wide-eyed, somewhat oblivious boy. JKR did a great job with the entire series, I think, and they're books that I'll be proud to have on my shelves for years to come.

Second: Most of you who read this read my dad's blog, so you likely already know that my parents have left to move back to Jersey for a year. The positive upshot to this for me is that I have the house to myself for the rest of the summer (give or take a week). Being here alone (plus having full reign over the stereo) is intensely relaxing.

Third: Next year at school I will be living in a suite that includes a private kitchen. Given the general quality of the food served in the cafeteria,* I have no good reason to keep avoiding my long-standing goal of learning how to cook. This being the case, I am now officially soliciting vegetarian recipes that I can use as stepping stones on my quest. Your participation is greatly appreciated.

*I do not wish to cast any aspersions on the kitchen staff at my college. They are wonderful, hardworking, talented chefs and I fully understand that the meals that leave me dissatisfied are the best that they can do when faced with severely limited supplies, time, staff, and budget.

I'm going to try to hold myself to a one-post-a-day minimum, so if I miss a day, you have my express permission and encouragement to heckle me about it.

I'm back in Evanston.

I've got a job lined up to start in a couple weeks (the commmute is worse than before, but the pay and hours are better).

I've got so much time, yet I feel like I lack the energy to actually do anything with it (even with projects I should be working on right in front of my face).

Blah.

I've started cleaning house for the move back to Evanston. It's bittersweet, seeing things of varying sentimental value divvied into piles of storage, shipping, and donations.

One of these years, I'm going to go for a full year without having to pack all my crap and move it.

Really.

After opening night of the second dance performance I've been in in two weeks, I received this comment:

"Si, if zombies ever invade and you get bitten, I'm shooting you first. 'Cause you're creepy."

I'm taking this as a compliment.

I know that it's way too early, but yesterday I had a flash of inspiration regarding what I could do for the independent portion of my Plan. It's moderately implausible, but if I could pull it off... The closest comparison I can think of off the top of my head is some bizarre collaboration between Saul Williams, Laurie Anderson, Alfonso Cuarón, and Martha Graham. And maybe Blue Man Group thrown in for good measure.

I am excited. My roommates say I'm crazy. I take this as a good sign.