Paris Is Burning

So, having free time at work means that I have been catching up on my news, and when I say news, I mean headlines on MSN's site (which is the homepage that is set on the computers here). Most of the things I read, then, are strange items of news or celebrity gossip (I have become intimately familiar with all of Britney's travails as of late). Some interesting things I learned today: a pet bunny was stolen from a preschool room in protest of a circus that was in town. A paraphrase from one of the preschool's attendees, "Our bunny was stoled. I'm sad." More bizarre than that, a man in North Carolina bought a smoker at an auction. The items at the auction were culled from abandoned items at a storage silo. He got home, opened up the smoker, and found, wrapped in paper, a human leg, severed a couple of inches above the knee. Did a loan shark leave it there after collecting it from a client? Perhaps the Russian mob was involved (though from what Without A Trace tells me, they're more likely to go after fingers)? A serial killer? Nope, something less exciting, but way more fun--police called the woman who the smoker had belonged to and she told them that her son had been in a plane crash, had his leg amputated, and kept it for "religious reasons." So now, the son is going to drive to North Carolina to pick up his leg. You'd think he'd be a little more careful about hanging on to that limb. In other leg-related news, a man smuggled a couple of exotic iguanas into the country via a compartment he had hollowed out of his prosthetic leg. I like the idea of hiding things in a prosthetic limb, though I think I would use it for less illegal and less alive things.

Soon, I will e-mail Oliver Sacks. I'm pretty excited. I am almost finished with his book The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and found that in one of his cases, a woman who is "simple" is quite a poet and described her grandmother's death as the woman going to her "long home." Sacks was impressed by this and wondered if that was an original phrase. While reading Jane Eyre, I came across that phrase (uttered by Helen). Apparently, the simple lady liked to have books read to her, so maybe that is where she picked it up. Anyway, I think it's worth a shot to e-mail Sacks about it. So, it seems I'm getting quite some mileage out of this Jane Eyre book, though it's dragging a bit for me now. Hopefully some fun things will start happening. I read some analyses of her drawings online last week which contained some spoilers--so I know I have some strange things to look forward to.

Chris and I have moved about twenty feet or so from where we lived. It seems to have worked out really well. We have a lot more space now (so there's plenty of room for anyone who wants to visit...hint hint) and I think overall, this apartment is better. In other Chris related news, we will be seeing My Brightest Diamond in Grand Rapids, MI on November 10th (it's a Saturday). Tickets are only $10 and My Brightest Diamond is really really good, especially live. She/They will also be in Chicago the next night (at the Lakeshore Theater), but if you go to that show, you won't have the pleasure of our company.


The Island

I have been employed in Michigan now for about five weeks now. I'm pretty sure that I like my job, although I don't think I'll ever really grow accustomed to this whole 9 to 5 real world deal. The good thing about the job I have is that while I am somtimes busy with easy office tasks, I have quite a bit of time where I don't have to do anything and have relative freedom to do what I want. My time is divided between my cubicle and covering at the front desk for the receptionist. When I'm in the front, I can openly read, which is very nice and allows me to progress through my Idiot's Guide to Music Theory quite nicely. When I'm at my desk, I think that I have to pretend that I'm occupied with work-related tasks, which means I make abundant use of the internet and all its glorious offerings. I have been making use of one of those offerings in particular: readprint.com--a website containing free texts. So far, I have read 1984 and Animal Farm. Currently, I am reading Jane Eyre. I enjoy it so far, though I'm only on chapter 13 and have only just been introduced to Rochester (who seems like a douche). This chapter has made me excited and impatient for the end of October when I will hopefully have the chance to converse with a certain Mr. Colin Meloy. Jane has just brought her drawings to Rochester for examination and has described the first of said drawings. This is an image of a sinking ship with a cormorant atop the mast holding a bracelet in its beak, which belonged to the drowned woman whose arm is visible as she sinks into the sea. I am excited because I plan on asking Colin Meloy whether or not Jane Eyre (like The Tempest) influenced the lyrics to The Island. I'm very excited about this for two reasons: 1) I find connections between media terribly interesting and b) perhaps this question will impress Mister Meloy and will lead to a great friendship which will span the ages--yes, your children will hear all the wonderous details of the solidarity between Colin and Jill. Here's hoping...

Also, Chris and I will be moving...details to come after this weekend.


Song for Jedi

So I exercised a bit today at the new gym I joined. Hopefully this is the beginning of a regular happening. And as I was driving home, I was thinking about something. Therefore, I am blogging about it. My question to you, dear readers, concerns habits of thinking. How long will it take until the thoughts that I want to have become the thoughts that I actually have. Case in point, because I am a female cliche, I have body image issues. Recently, I have noticed that my boobs have become smaller. And of course there are always fluctuations in breast size, but it seems to me that there's been a pretty significant, well okay, not really significant, but....noticeable reduction. And I know I shouldn't let that bother me. And I know that size isn't as important as quality, i.e. it's better to have smaller nice, firm boobs than sloppy sagging pieces of crap, but it still does bother me. And it's the same with any part of my body that I dislike or am disappointed in. I've often had this question and it has been my number one skepticism of therapy, self-help, etc. Do these issues and/or problems ever really get fixed. And of course, this is a question that concerns many more issues than body image, but because I am a stereotype surrounded by banality wrapped inside triteness, this is the main problem I have. Will I ever naturally and completely organically be okay with my appearance? Can one really derail or even detour trains of thought?