It’s school, work, and not (unfortunately), the Vampire Eric, sucking my life blood this week. Sometimes there is a choice — between the reading and the paper writing — to write a blog post, or read the blogs of others. Sometimes I choose others.
Not to blog is an option of course. It isn’t the option I choose, but I’m aware of it, so there is no need to remind me that it exists, for surely someone will.
The advantage of having blogged since birth is that there is a ton of old stuff, often bad and self indulgent, to pull back up. The act of pulling up old stuff is self indulgent in and of itself of course, but what is a blog, for those of us not using their blog as a means to and end, but self indulgence.
September 24th, 2005. Two years before graduation from college, not quite a year after starting my blogspot blog, this is what I was writing.
If I hadn’t had my eyebrows threaded
they’d be
thicker
the lights are bright but fuzzy tonight
the book bag
heavy
Trudging across town,
halfway across town, not even town
The Village.
My mind exaggerates
It’s because my face is crooked
lip and eyebrow quirk upward
perpetually quizzical, saying
“sure tell me another one”
or is it due to the Japanese puppet plays
I favored as a child
though not so much now
there must be a reason.
If you’re a good girl we’ll do some film fest.
Will I see John Malcovich???????
peace
Ha. So your skepticism is neuromuscular. I thought so.
.-= Doug´s last blog ..Referendum =-.
Now that is the funniest, and possibly the most clever comment I’ve had in some time. I so wish I was into giving awards. ;)
I get home at almost 1 in the morning, take time to read you, and you are what? Sitting in front of a computer reading a few hundred of pages of foreign policy mash-ups or writing some 100 page solution, and you don’t have time to blog? I don’t think so.
You pull up some old poem post highlighting your ridiculously awesome snicker eyebrow and sneering lip, your strange appetite for Japanese puppet plays and John Malkovich, and expect me (a loyal reader), to not be offended?
Hell I love the old stuff, if I had old stuff that’s all I’d post. Conserves a lot of energy.
.-= G´s last blog ..Father and Son =-.
I get the feeling you sleep later than I do. Not to be picky.
You’re sweet g, it’s off to bed for me anyway, this is later than I like to be awake these days.
Cooper the poet.
Who knew? The trouble with me is I can pull pieces I was writing from 1994, which do me more of disservice than anything you could have ever written.
Actually, I’ve got the dirt on a few dozen of people I knew. I’ve got letters from Jina and Breanne from 1993. I’ve got all of Breanne’s poems ever written.
Come to think of it, I’ve got almost everything anyone has ever written or shown me saved somewhere.
.-= mojo shivers´s last blog ..Trudging Slowly Over Wet Sand, Back To The Bench Where Your Clothes Were Stolen, This Is The Coastal Town, That They Forgot To Close Down =-.
You used to call it bad poetry; I think it witty and oh so much better than most I have read around the blogosphere
Sometimes I wish I had been blogging since birth for the record of my life I would have (ego speaking) but am not sure I would show the restraint you have and would probably find pictures of me years later I wouldn’t want myself to see
.-= pia´s last blog ..Beginnings, again =-.
That eyebrow threading thing is scary. Thank god you got out of that city. ;)
It’s nice to have had a blog long enough to have memories. I’m not breaking out into a song about it but it’s fun to see what was up 4 years ago.
.-= john´s last blog ..The Unwinnable War in Afghanistan =-.
That was one of the blasts I missed, I must have blasted in some time after that point, I appreciate you bringing it back.
The ghost of blogging past. Like Dickens intended those ghosts teach a lesson or two. I like the blast from the past features, keep them up.
I just noticed that “request deletion” garbage can in your comments, how cool is that.
I’ve always liked your eyebrows and the quirk, but thicker is better in my book. No threading here. Was that something that New Yorkers did? I don’t remember it being a thing to do in Boston.
I like the poem. Wish I’d seen it at the time.
.-= kait´s last blog ..J.Crew in Black =-.