Friday March 31st 2017, 10:12 pm
Filed under: Boozy,Old Tags:

To learn that Lea Thompson has a daughter old enough to act as the cute love interest. Which simply means I’m old.

Finishing the bottle
Friday March 17th 2017, 12:09 am
Filed under: Boozy,HelLA,Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Which I meant to do, though the size of the full glass is more than I’d imagined/intended. So to justify it, I’m going to write, instead of read, create instead of consume, bloviate rather than ???. I’ve got 99 problems but an empty glass ain’t one. I sit here, he says, repeating a version of a phrase that started every journal I’ve ever handwritten. Which would be hard to know, given that the 93-98 journals, however many volumes that was, got lost in the mail when I moved to Oxenford. I persisted, like Senator Warren, but it never really stuck again after those magical quadrilingual (Eng, Latin, Greek, Russian) years of Peak Pretension ™ disappeared off the back of a boat. Today’s former student worried that she’s only written a single poem this calendar year despite her practice praxis since age 12 of non-stop writing. Hooray, I thought to myself, your juvenalia are coming to an end.

Bowl season almost upon us again. HelLA summer in a pleasant fishbowl, complete with incense-burning tenor guy. I almost felt guilty seeing Herbie Hancock at Disney Hall, wanting to explain to him the props he gets at the other venue. But he probably knows. He probably is a friend to us all. Though YCT’s friend’s friend, whose husband is apparently a misogynistic jazz pianist, given some shit he quoted Robert Glasper saying, who (YCT-friend)when she followed up sitting at a pool (on a cruise) with Terrence Blanchard and someone else, confirmed that I’ve lost control of this sentence, let alone this paragraph, angrily asserted the misogyny of the US boxing press crediential people so cogently one had to agree. Keeping up? Me neither.

This fucking quarter
Thursday March 16th 2017, 11:38 pm
Filed under: Boozy,Work Tags:

Needs to die. Last day teaching today, thank fuck. Pretty books because I was pretty well out of other ideas at this point. Followed by nonstop meetings, from the idea of beauty, to the idea of filth, to alchemical drama. To the circle of toxic hyper-masculine fucktards poisoning the well. To the former student working 18 hours a week at the local museum, who has shared a bedroom with her grandmother for almost 20 years. Because that’s what you do when you and your family don’t have options. A humbling reminder of why and wherefore, despite the contentious search, the rise of assholes in a previously collegial department, the co-editor who might as well eating paste, and the impossible list of shit to do.

A Papers
Thursday March 09th 2017, 10:26 am
Filed under: Oxford,Work Tags:

Prepping for class, printed out one of my MPhil Exam A Papers to amuse my current 2nd year graduate students. As I just observed to YCT, “March 2000 me was pretty smart, but rather arrogant. Which is news to nobody.”