When I pulled into a gas station to…well…get gas, I noticed these crushed skittles all over the ground. I called Shu over and she was…well…considerably less interested. I asked her to snap a picture of a tasty rainbow road, though:
*I did not taste the rainbow.
I’ve been hearing Foster The People’s “The Pumped Up Kicks” on the radio for a few weeks now and recently I’ve found myself humming the rhythm, which is catchy and even a bit peppy. Today, I made an effort to listen to the lyrics, which apparently are about a school shooting. Somehow, this makes me enjoy the song even more.
This reminded me of Sufjan Stevens’s “John Wayne Gacy Jr.,” which is probably the prettiest creepy song just about ever. I remember sitting while Sufjan’s haunting, gentle wail swirled this beautiful song around and thinking “Holy crap.” Walking through B&N during the song’s popularity height, I would hear it all the time. I totally wouldn’t be surprised if someone put the tune on simply because it is catchy and pretty, without even considering its content.
In any case, I dig this style of subtle darkness. The somber playfulness around such a serious and morbid topic is something I enjoy probably far more than one should.
Today is the Shu’s birthday. As she started singing “It’s the Shu’s Birthday! It’s the Shu’s Birthday!” I noticed a strong resemblance to the opening bars of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkries. Most likely, this is because 1) I watched Apocalypse Now about 15 times last semester while writing a paper for it and 2) [more likely] because we watched What’s Opera Doc? two nights ago. As I played the tune this morning, the Shu marched down the stairs and around the room, toothbrush in hand, victorious in birthday triumph.
I decided that I would enjoy some early evening coffee while finishing my work for today. When I poured some cream into the coffee, I realized I poured far too much. I took a sip and it’s rich sweetness was delightful. Then, I thought “I wonder if some people drink coffee just as an excuse to drink creamer.”
A few weeks ago, I bought a spaghetti squash. I really enjoy squash, but I regularly forget that we have it. Today, Shu Lan said, you better eat that squash today. So, I cooked it up. I forgot how fun spaghetti squash is, all stringy and crunchy.
Fun lunch.
Tonight I watched an episode of The Jersey Shore in Miami. Why does this exist?
My head hurts.
I am genuinely curious how the credits list is so long.
A few months ago, through a mistake totally my own fault, I lost my red bike to a opportunistic thief. Occasionally, I would ride to the bus stop that is about 3/4 of a mile away. One bleary-eyed morning, I simply forgot to pick it up off the bus in my hustle bustle to class. Totally my fault, I accepted the theft as the punishment of absentmindedness.*
Good Fortune came though when I had an older bike returned to me by my father. Though not as nice as my previous one, I still enjoyed my occasional rides. Today, Fortune was cruel: the bike is no longer here. Despite a lock, the bike apparently has grown legs and wandered off with a new friend.
This bums me out far more than it should.
*To add insult to injury, I then saw the red bike about a month later. Though beaten up, it was also sitting with a lock made by Hephaestus. Though the police were quite nice to me, they understandably were unable to help me. I bought the bike secondhand, so no bill of sale/proof of my property. Alas, my recently borrowed bike is in the same situation.
Nearly every morning I catch a bus from a far lot at the University to the upper part of campus (occasionally I walk it) at 7:00 AM. Earlier this week, I saw a tiny red hatchback car pull up in a parking spot near the bus. A scruffy bearded man seemed to be upset, not angrily but instead in tears, and the female driving was talking. He leaned over and they shared what appeared to be a consoling embrace. I started to look away, not wanting to intrude on this intimate car moment. Then, I noticed her hand come up.
It looked moppish: gray and shag carpet-like. It seemed to dance a little and it’s mouth moved back and forth talking (or perhaps its head was simply bobbing?) to the man. I couldn’t tell if it was a beaver, gopher or a rodent, or what else it might be aside from a cute monster. The man seemed less upset. I found it odd that it seemed like the woman was also listening to the puppet, her eyes turned toward his motions rather than the man beside her.
She stopped, put her hands back on the wheel (puppet still worn), and they drove away. I wondered what the little guy said and why the moment suddenly felt sinister.
With all the snow this term, I decided that I would give my students an extra credit opportunity. The assignment: Create a literary scene out of snow. There are some additional parameters, but I thought I would share mine on the blog [if you have never read The Lottery, there is a copy here]. If I get some from students, I’ll share those too. Shu Lan’s only reply, “It looks great, but why am I with such a nerd?!” Enjoy!
Round two for Jack Frost and Mother Nature in NW Arkansas. This one, I think, strikes as a win for them. These are a few shots just right outside the door:
Keep in mind, the majority of last week’s snow melted (on account of our lovely 50 degree weather). The switch between spring and winter has given me some wicked headaches in the last week. It is hard to actually capture the impressiveness of the snow in the pictures above. There is a obscuring fog of falling flakes and the snow is falling so quickly that it has become audible. It is hard to describe the sound snow makes. This snow sounds a bit like the hiss of a radio or TV with white noise turned down extremely low. Occasionally, the chirp of a bird will rise above it. Otherwise, it’s eerie silent sound.
More pictures to come.
