Lunatics and Princesses

Have a bad cold. Have been labeled lethal by my SSS teacher.

(Not Special Snowflakes. Saints, Shrines, and Spectacle. So you know Phil.)

I hope the lunch ladies win the lottery. They got me lemon when there wasn't any so I could have tea for my sore throat.

Screwed up a Latin quiz. To owe, not to hesitate. I was right the first time.


...


Gossip Girl airs tonight. I'm not sure how I feel about this; I love the books, like, a lot, and so far the show just looks like the OC or whatever moved to New York. The books aren't really like that. So far from the previews, I'm not impressed. Where are Jenny's boobs? When did Jenny turn blonde and straight-haired? She's short, has curly curly brown hair, and ginormous boobs.

AND HELLO WHERE IS VANESSA, WHO IS A MAJOR CHARACTER. COME ON CW. BREAK THE BOUNDARIES OF STUPID TEEN FUCKERY IMAGE CRAP. IT IS OKAY TO HAVE A CHARACTER THAT'S A LITTLE CHUBBY AND HAS A SHAVED HEAD. KTHNX.

I'm going to go finish dying now.

Latin Latin Latin.

In protest to the media's support of stick figures and the mostly unattainable size six, but more eloquent than the song "Baby Got Back."

...All this verbosity having been expended, you genteel ladies and distinguished gentlemen are now invited to read the poem inspired in Fernando Assis Pacheco by Adalgisa, Yansan of the Saddle, while the enchanted one possessed her at Jacira do Odô Oyá's caruru. More precisely, by Dadá's triumphant ass.

The Poem in Its
Original Form

ADALGISA'S RUMP

A rump revealed, one August in Bahia,
Round to the eyes, a magnificent orb,
A bottom like a bison, your buttocks, Adalgisa
Beguiled my walk through the market stalls

Of all the rhymed asses of ancient memory
Only yours has the compass of true poetry
A tail bound for glory, oh unrivaled iyawô
Rolling your hips, you take our breath away
Our lips, fair Adalgisa, long there to stray

So plump, so cleft, so high, it rivals
The white and leavened dough, cooked in the far off Bahias
Where oh how Adalgisa sings! tropical bird, Homeric siren
And I, a lost Ulysses, bow my head in this tavern
Longing for your broad pelvic perfection
Foundering in my sleep but not in affection.

FERNANDO ASSIS PACHECO
Bahia, stormy, on an August night


~ From the book The War of the Saints by Jorge Amado, which Rafa gave to me before he went back to Brazil, and which introduced me to Candomblé.

.

Not much. I don't think I can base an essay on a thesis like, "OMFG HamletHoratio slash is teh hotness if it's Ethan Hawke and that other guy and one time saccarineayako did Ophelia and she fucking rocked out as a crazy girl."

I swear to god, this play leaves me so cold it is not even funny. I mean, I like it and all, but I have absolutely nothing to say about it. I have no opinions on the story or the characters other than a vague "that sucks, honey," for Ophelia.

I'll probably write some journal entries for Gertrude, or something.

Today was kind of sort of hellish. Studied sociology most of the morning before class so I could get a heads up on the in class essay we had to do instead of getting on AIM and vegging like I wanted to. At one point, Quinn stole my sandwich, and I threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't give it the hell back. ---This should have been my main indication that I would get horrendous cramps in the middle of sociology, with nary a painkiller in sight. I managed to get through Public Speaking and then told my math teacher that I was sick and therefore leaving. Luckily it was only a review class, so he was cool with it.

Joe found me as I was leaving Academic and I dragged him with me to the library before we went back to the Lookout. Thankfully, Jason was there and showed me a magical vending machine with Tylenol in it. That was a very, very good thing; I think if I had just crashed on the couch without the Tylenol then I would have wound up puking all over Quinn or something.

After a while everyone took off. Jason went over to Academic to look for Manda, and I was all by myself until Doug and Mike came along. The point to that whole conversation was that Quinn is hot.

Caught the bus with Jason2 and Paul, but Jason and Manda missed the bus. That was okay because I wound up missing the first B'ville bus because Paul was putting songs onto my iPod with his laptop, bless him a thousand times over and I hope he wins the lottery. As I was crossing the street to catch the bus, who should I see but Manda and Jason! Much rejoicing and a coffee coolatta.

Cooked up plans on the bus with Jason. This could be great, or it could be a disaster. Possibly both.

And now here I am, trying to figure out what the fuck to write about Hamlet. I'm going to be up all night with this.

*dies*

Oh yeah... I have to revise my Komachi paper for class tomorrow, too. And do my CRJ extra credit assignment. And study chem. Maybe I'll just fail that on purpose, though, and take it over again or something?

*keeps right on dying*