For the past few days, I have been indulging in a terrifically fun activity, which may in fact be the flamingest thing I do on a regular basis. No, this does not involve the ever-growing porn collection on my computer.
It does, however, involve a singer who could arguably be called a gay icon (the Wikipedia seems to agree
): Mariah Carey. I have already confessed to a guilty enjoyment of her Daydream
album, but I haven't actually listened to it in quite a long while. Well, the other day I got the song "Always Be My Baby" stuck in my head, and had to dig out the CD, which was miraculously un-destroyed like most other CDs in the case (don't ask). So... in addition to ripping it into the mp3 player and playing it while I was working in the kitchen, I blared it in the car. Going down Kenilworth. With all my windows down. Singing along with "Always Be My Baby" at the top of my lungs and hitting. every. note. It was great fun! I felt young and carefree, and had a weird sensation of being in Florida (I don't even
Of course, then I got home and was chatting with a neighbor kid... and I realized the album's older than he is (it came out in 1995, he's ten years old -- do the math). That was a bit odd.
There is a marathon of New Scandinavian Cooking on the local PBS affiliate right now. How can one man be so lucky?
Is there a particular reason I don't make quesadillas every day? I made one today with a wonderful hard Irish cheese and leftover 40-clove chicken, and it was delicious and super quick! I honestly don't think I have ever before in my life made a quesadilla... that is a crime against good food if I ever heard of one.
My thesis has to be given to my committee members Monday (or, in Dr. Cerquiglini's case, airmailed to Paris). I spent a solid block from 2pm til about 11pm today reading translation theory and taking notes (well, except for the time I took to make a chicken groundnut stew, but I read during the downtime of that ever). I basically have to write my translator's note tomorrow. I haven't the vaguest idea how long it will be. I fear it'll either ramble or end up disturbingly pompous. Oh gods, what have I done? Too much putting off, too much. And now at the 11th hour I've decided that it needs to be more critically rigorous than I had originally intended. Zounds.
Got my letter of admission from LSU two day ago. The money's not as good as at OSU, although it's close, so... yeah. Of course there are other factors to consider there, too, which could really work in either direction. I mean, I'm here, staying wouldn't be uprooting myself at all (bonus.), but then again I wouldn't get that fresh start I'm looking for; geographic dislocation is a fine, tangible marker for new endeavors. Of course, there's tone of admission, too: OSU has been very excited/-ing, very welcoming, while LSU was so businesslike as to be disturbingly brusque. Also of course, Shane did mention that it wouldn't be at all a bad idea to look at the faculty's writings, since they will be the ones who will be molding/evaluating my work wherever I go. And then again, Indiana's not even got back to me yet, and they will add a whole new dimension of madness to the mix. Arg. This was all so easy and cleancut for undergrad and my first grad program... I guess this is payback.