A Different Kind of Flood

Of late, I feel like I haven't had much to post about, but then all in a rush, I'm so overwhelmed with options and such little time that I again I fail to post. A minute sampling:

David Sedaris. We all know and love him, but now I've seen him live and loved him, though still from afar. I didn't wait in line to meet him; Liz's long ago blog about how chatty he was frightened me. I really don't want to meet and talk to famous people, especially ones that I like. I seriously doubt my ability to be unique and engaging, and I'd rather be anoynmous than ordinary.

Marie Antoinette. I enjoyed it a lot. I love the 80s glam-rock and anachornisms (Converse sneakers in 18th century Versaille?!), but my complete and udder lack of knowledge about the history hurt the impact the film could have made. So, I recommend a bit (seriously, I'm sure whatever wikipedia has will do just fine) of research to give the film a little context. Otherwise, the movie is like Lost in Translation, pointless.

For My People...

Because I know that my (albeit small) readership is heavy on the English nerd scale, I submit a fun grammar website that I actually found because there's a podcast--Grammar Girl's Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing. Uber-cool.

Jump Start

Being well on top of things that I need to do is not my normal state of being. I've set today aside to work on a presentation that I have to do in two weeks, but all I can seem to do is watch Food Tv (with the occasional foray into Style and BBC America) and stare at the piles of books and articles in a semi-circle about me. I've gotten brand-spankin' new post-it page markers and index cards, so I've got everything I could possibly need. Except being engaged in my topic--you, clever reader, are correct in assuming this blog seems to be yet another procrastination technique. I think I'm going to abandon the presentation work and work on next week's class work...

On a completely unrelated theme, I watched The Singing Detective yesterday. Now, Robert Downey, Jr. is one of my boyfriends; Jeremy Northam and Adrien Brody are nice as well; I love the noir and modern takes on it; I enjoy complex narrative structures; I'm a sucker for musicals; so, keeping all this in mind, why didn't I like it especially well?

Ernie, Why Do You Have a Pot on Your Head?*

This weekend I switched desks in my room, which turned out to be a much larger project than I had originally anticipated. One issue was that I was going from a computer desk with a couple of shelves to a desk (I think a bureau, actually) that belonged to my grandmother. So, the organization of materials was different. Because I intended to do a minimal amount of work, I put everything on my bed, pulled the desk out, vacuumed and put the new one in.

But that's just the beginning, then I decided to move where the desk was to the corner that had my entertainment center. So, piece by pice I moved out the clutter that lined the wall, pushed the 800 pound center (without moving any of the electronics out of it--those things are a pain to connect) to its new home, put the desk it the now vacant corner, and painstakingly recreated the precarious balancing along the wall with the remainder of stuff because attempting to go through all that is definitely another day's project.

*The entire time I felt like the Seaseme Street sketch where Ernie broke the cookie jar so he had to put the cookies in the flower jar and had to put the flowers in the milk jug and put the milk in the fish bowl and had to keep the fish in his hat, so he had to wear the cooking pot on his head--or something like that...