Have a tryptophan-filled day

You know when your sinuses are all clogged and nothing really makes sense? Yeah.

off the record

Yeah, so I'm busy. I work all the time, have too many papers to write, etc etc. Blah blah blah.

It's too bad, really, since there is SO MUCH that I want to post on the blog but that the never-entirely-anonymous nature of blogging is preventing me from writing. Shame. Because otherwise I would tell you that, last Monday, I very stupidly decided to go to class on migraine meds. Not only did I almost pass out on the walk there, but I arrived late, which ensured that the ENTIRE CLASS witnessed me walk into a closet door--thus creating an enormous lump in the middle of my forehead (which blossomed into a bruise later in the week). Not my finest hour.

I would also tell you that on Friday there happened to be yet another encounter with the elusive Rebound from last year, in which the following conversation took place at approximately midnight:
Me: "Are you seeing anyone?"
Him: "Uh, no."
Me: "Well. Do you want to see me?"
Him: "Ok."*
[There may have been partial nudity involved. Maybe.] I would confide in you that the migraine that seemed to have gone away on Tuesday returned so forcefully Saturday morning that I had to go beg at the health center for a shot of medication I hadn't had to resort to since 2003, after which I went home, split a bottle of Lindeman's Framboise with my fabulous roommate who made me pigs in blankets, and slept until about 5 minutes before going to work on Sunday. I would also tell you that, on Sunday morning, the heat and hot water were out, which meant that I hadn't showered for about three days** when, Sunday night at the gallery--less than 48 hours after seeing the Rebound and approximately 56 hours since my last shower--I got asked out on a date by an attractive man.

...IF I were to post about all this on my blog--and this is NOT EVEN COUNTING the making out with fellow students, the debilitating inability to get to bed before 2am which is seriously f*cking up my life, the very ambiguous email flirting with professors (which may just be in my own mind), the not-so-ambiguous flirting with artists, the annoying cigarette habit I seem to have developed over the summer which has proved obnoxiously hard to quit, the encounters with ex-boyfriends, etc.--alls I would be saying (if I were to be saying this, you understand) is that these must be some DAMN strong pheromones I'm pumping out. And also, that the dude I'm meeting up with on Wednesday is clearly blind. But I'm cool with that.


* I am not known for my subtlety.
** Okay, seriously, if you don't sweat all that much and the hair isn't too greasy, then it's not that big a deal. ...Unfortunately, I sweat a lot and my hair gets gross after about 36 hours. So, clearly: dude is blind.

And we now return to our regularly scheduled hibernation.
See you in January!

purple-headed womb ferret?

I am too busy to write down all the crap I have to do these days, but I have to bring myself out of semi-hiatus to post the following video of Kate Winslet on the English TV show Extras:

Some of the best euphemisms I've ever heard (and that's saying a lot considering my most recent paper) delivered by Kate Winslet wearing a nun costume? I almost stopped breathing I was laughing so hard. The lines after the jump:

"Why don't you just start off with something light, you know. Like, um, 'I'd love it if you stuck your Willy Wonka between my Oompa Loompas,'--you know, something a bit fun, a bit jokey. And then you can get more hard-core, rattle off the old classics, like, 'I'm playing with my dirty pillows. I'm aching for your big purple-headed womb ferret.' And then go straight in hard, like: 'Get 'round here 'cause I'm fudding myself stupid and I'm bloody loving it.' Alright?"