Amsterdam

I'm leaving for Amsterdam in 3 days. Three days, guys. That is so soon.

An Homage to Baudelaire: A loose translation of Fleur de mal: Spleen III

I stopped posting poetry here because most of the time the poems weren't "finished" works, and you don't want to read my garbage do you? Plus, I'm paranoid that someone will steal something from me. Right, because it's worth stealing?

No one is going to steal this one. It's a very loose translation of Spleen III from Fleur de mal, followed by the original poem. I <3 Baudelaire.


I am like the king of a foggy burg,
an aged beggar, a wealthy child,
bored of his wretched teachers, wasting
cool afternoons with dogs, no reprieve
of listlessness as skeletons assemble
on his marble step. The fool's song
a hapless off-key mess falling on dull ears,
his chaise grande towers ten heads high, his
mottled maids, once worth a glance or two,
scarcely stir excitement in his wilting heart.
A heart the king's necromancer failed
to turn gold, as the thickest, reddest
Roman baths of blood could not warm
his ghastly bag of limp limbs, his translucent
alien form flowing with green death.

Spleen III
by Charles Baudelaire

Je suis comme le roi d'un pays pluvieux,
Riche, mais impuissant, jeune et pourtant très-vieux,
Qui, de ses précepteurs méprisant les courbettes,
S'ennuie avec ses chiens comme avec d'autres bêtes.
Rien ne peut l'égayer, ni gibier, ni faucon,
Ni son peuple mourant en face du balcon.
Du bouffon favori la grotesque ballade
Ne distrait plus le front de ce cruel malade;
Son lit fleurdelisé se transforme en tombeau,
Et les dames d'atour, pour qui tout prince est beau,
Ne savent plus trouver d'impudique toilette
Pour tirer un souris de ce jeune squelette.
Le savant qui lui fait de l'or n'a jamais pu
De son être extirper l'élément corrompu,
Et dans ces bains de sang qui des Romains nous viennent,
Et dont sur leurs vieux jours les puissants se souviennent,
Il n'a su réchauffer ce cadavre hébété
Où coule au lieu de sang l'eau verte du Léthé.

I AM SUCH A FAILURE.

T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock was PUBLISHED when he was 27. What the hell.

Whew! I'm back in Philly.

I spent the last week in Auburn, AL for Thanksgiving with my boyfriend's family. Auburn, home of Auburn U, is a quaint college town in eastern Alabama. There weren't many rednecks. A lot of Southern folk, definitely, but I met more liberal types than anything else. Patrick's parents were super swell. If I could aspire to be a couple when I get older, it'd probably be them. Usually, spending a week with the (someday in the future) in-laws the first time you meet them is recipe for disaster, but I cannot express how great they are. Sometimes I feel like the luckiest lady in the world, having him in my life. All right, now I'm just embarrassing myself. I hardly took any pictures, but here are a few:

This is where I ate my Thanks giving meal this year. It was so beautiful:
























































Here's Patrick. You can see their interesting house in the background:







































Anyway. I'm back, and I definitely missed Philly.

Where did they take her?

Oh god. This video makes me laugh hysterically every time:



This is all you are getting tonight. I just wrote 5 pages and rewrote the plot to my short story for fun. FOR FUN.

International Year of Astronomy 2009

You may already be aware of the International Year of Astronomy 2009 project. Check out the mission statement, it's a great initiative. You may not be aware of these fantastic retro prints for the project by Simon Page. They are fun and beautiful, and they were just made available for purchase. I'll definitely buy one or two of them.






Check them out at his store.

I wanna crack that skull right open!

Philly's got the bug. No, not bed bugs. The bike bug. And with that, comes a whole lot of pissed off people. I'm definitely one of them. I hate people riding on the sidewalk, going the wrong way down one way streets, swerving in and out of traffic, and dangerously running red lights. And most of these new bike rules that the City Council is hoping to pass are great. However, I have some bones to pick:

• What is up with the no headphones law? Sure, to some, it might seem dangerous. The idea of it, at least. But I ride with headphones almost every day (arrest me, hurry!), and I can hear EVERYTHING happening around me. It's never impaired my ability to ride safely. Maybe I'm missing something big on this one, but I just don't get it. It seems like a blatant money grab for broke Philly politicians.
  
• Why aren't they enforcing any kind of mandatory bike helmet law? We have mandatory seat belt laws for cars, right? They're trying to enforce fixie lovers with bikes sans brakes to either pay $1000 or hand over their bikes. You'd think a helmet law would be a logical step in all this.
• Where is the big campaign to get riders to actually learn what is lawful and what is not? Honestly, the people I see riding on sidewalks are mostly immigrants and young kids. You know, people I'd actually believe didn't know any better. I think we'd be better off doing widespread multilingual campaigns (signs, commercials, people walking around in high bike traffic areas, etc.) for bike safety rather than just straight up enforcing these laws.

Okay, /rant. I'm going to finish this muffin and actually start working.

Satan's Fingers, The Killers, and The Hospital Bombers

Guess who just emailed me! Claudia (fucking) Gonson! She's seriously the bees knees. Unfortunately, she did report that there are no current plans for a Philadelphia show for the Magnetic Fields. Oh well, Patrick and I will go to the DC show probably.

I'm also missing The Mountain Goats' show in Philadelphia because I will be in Alabama. If you're in Philly on the 28th of November, be sure to check them out at the TLA. Here's one of my favorite songs:



All right, enough music talk. Time to go read/write (real stuff!) for a bit. Night!


Brought to you by:

Sometimes I blog like this.

Not if I could sing like a bird...

The Magnetic Fields are touring again in 2010. I was fortunate enough to see them when they toured in 2008, because according to their website, they're not planning to come back to Philly. I emailed on a whim to find out if they do have plans to, but I haven't received a response. They're all fantastically talented people, and the MF is my favorite of Stephin Merrit's projects. Here's a video from their 2008 tour performing "All My Little Words":




They put on a beautiful show. I'd certainly be willing to go to NYC or DC to see them.

Oh, and here's a non-live song. A little different. A little electro synth-pop kinda thing. It's one of my favorites:



Enjoy!

Shooooooot her!

It's always about this time of year, when I just start eating too much, that I panic and consider joining the gym or some other nonsense. Except this year, holy shit, I'm 25! That's more than a quarter of my life. It could be only half my life. I've spent the last 10 years doing and eating whatever I want and not changing in any meaningful way. (I can't pinpoint the exact year in which I stopped "growing" and gaining weight, but I'm sure it was somewhere around 15 or 16 years of age.) So, the year that it stops working that way will be a scary one. Mostly because I never cared enough about my weight to even buy a scale. I've been fairly comfortable about it. I'm willing to admit that I'm not perfect, but I think I'm doing okay most of the time. I know someone will probably read this and want to stab me in the face. I know it's not easy for a lot of people. I have family members that struggle with weight problems. I've honestly never really had to worry about it much. And I've taken advantage of that. That said, perhaps after this move, if I am actually spending less per month on rent/utilities, I'll actually go back to the gym and start running/working out. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps!

(This post is inspired by the scrumptious pumpkin cake with cream cheese frosting sitting in our refrigerator. Thank you, thank you very much.)

"Love will be there in the morning."

Okay, I'm sorry. I lied. This is actually the best part.

They've come to find you, odalisque

So, I'm really digging my new set up. Check it:



None of my books are here yet, except for the pile on my desk and the few I carry around with me.



That tea is cold. I'm still drinking it.



The best part.



His



and Hers

See? We're so cute it's flippin' disgusting. All right. Time to get to work!

Testing...

Testing!

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE?!

I'm the only one in my office right now, so I'm blasting the The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly soundtrack. Morricone makes any situation more badass. Even boring spreadsheet work.

WANT:

I really want this squareroot table. Preeeetty.

L-o-l-a, Lola

What badasses...



Seriously. Can I be in your band? Please?

Fuck it. I love Neil Diamond, and I don't even care.

Look how sexy we are. I feel like I've met my "other", if that makes any sense. I definitely wrote my character David's back story with a little inspiration from how I feel now. I never (and currently don't) believe in true love, but holy shit. Sometimes I can imagine it. Hardcore.

Your mom treats objects like women!

I can't get this poem finished. It's really frustrating, but I guess that's what it's all about. Since it's been awhile, I'll post the disgusting half devoured skeleton of the poem for you to read. Enjoy! Remember, of course, that it's not finished:


My dress swelled on the threshold,
the wind silently invading my home
The doorjamb towered above me,
Every quiet immaculate good bye
with freckled lips and pale eyes
calm and chaotic crashing waves
Five steps down, no turning back,
and my feet wavered beneath me

BLARG. In other news, I finally got a desk set up in the house:

I'll have to go when the whistle blows, the whistle blows my name. Baby I was born on a train.

Run on sentences FTW!

I'm so head-over-heels, for sure, unbelievably, without a doubt in love with P that my head spins, and my heart races, and my cheeks get a little rosy, and I can't help but smile and close my eyes and just savor it. It's rare that I'm certain of things in my life. I doubt things constantly. But this is one of those things that I just know is right. I have no desire to make him into something he isn't. I love every centimeter of him. I love the way he looks into my eyes. I love his soft hands. I love that he kicks ass at Rock Band. I love that he eats meat. I love his feet. I love that he loves science. I love how sexy he is on his bike. I love the way he plays with my hair. I love that when we spoon it feels like the most perfect thing that's ever happened to me. I love that he's always trying. I love when he sings along with a song playing on the stereo. I love when he calls me baby, darling, love, or honey bunny. I love being with him, and I love missing him when he's not around. I love him.