Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thoughts during "On A Highway" by Animal Collective

4 minutes and 36 second will have gone by by the time this is finished.
First the oceand little bumps skirt around with no idea for life and the circumstances that are not really all that forboding when you think about it right..heyyy anyone want a pencil?
You are the scariest little piece of hometown magic I've ever touched.
Copenhagen? Nah, I seriously doubt it.
How did they find you? Did they see you on the mountain when you were flagging down what was left of the country? Flying by inside a periscope?
Sometimes sentences are too long.
Some sentences are too short.
Most sentences are manifested in some way.
Thats a relatively safe assertion.

Silence for a little while. Maybe because I'm really excited about what the song is doing right now and lots of little voices tittling around for awhile. Jumbling around and I wonder if I should fix typos.
Not because they're such a linguistic fascination, but because I feel its sort of insincere to the exercise.
God I wish i was in a different country now. I wish I was in a small village and I had a garden.
I would sell vegetables from this garden on the side of the road.
And I would make scarves. I would make scarves from the wool from the sheeps from the neighbors that live a mile down the road from me and my garden.
And maybe my husband could work in the town, or maybe he could work at home. But we could go on walks in the dark at night and splash in the river.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

And now, a word from our sponsors:

It's official: The UK loves Shapes most of all. I get at least 200 hits a day from people googling Shapes from the UK.

I don't deserve to be awake right now. I'm tired, I drank a lot, my tummy wants food, and I can't sleep.
But all I have is cheesecake right now.
It's like I keep accidentally spoiling myself rotten, and I'm not particularly pleased with it, but if it were any other way I'd feel like I was missing out.

Is this what being in your 20s is all about?

A little snippet of Kenneth 'cause this is my mood right now:

from "To My Twenties"
Kenneth do you have a minute?
And I say yes! I am in my twenties!
I have plenty of time! In you I marry,
In you I first go to France; I make my best friends
In you, and a few enemies. I
Write a lot and am living all the time
And thinking about living. I loved to frequent you
After my teens and before my thirties.
You three together in a bar
I always preferred you because you were midmost
Most lustrous apparently strongest
Although now that I look back on you
What part have you played?

My roommate just said "Congratuacheesecake." I suppose I deserve that.

After my roommate said that, and I typed that, I started watching light reflecting off of my hair in the glare of my laptop.
I don't like looking at exclamation points when I'm tired and hungover.
Such as like, this pains me:
This is what I say when I see that:
but really? There's no trampoline - there's just lines and dots, okay? Lines and dots. Chew that one up and digest it. MFin' lines and dots.

Maybe I need to start knowing more intrepid young adventurers.

To fill you in on what just happened: I wrote the above sentence, looked at it disgruntled, and then wandered into the kitchen and ate a leftover half-piece of cheesecake. Matt and I know what we're doing with that cheesecake. Congratuacheesecake, everyone.
So I ate that, then I watched this girl wandering around outside of our neighboring apartment builiding. The building is about 20 feet away from our kitchen window so too many private experiences are shared. But she was wandering around with her white comforter over her head and obviously unsure of what she should be doing with it. Get your shit together, I said to her through the window. What are you doing with it? You're wandering back and forth. You're a mess, and EVERYONE is watching you. Everybody knows that you're just wandering around with a fluffy comforter over your head, probably hung-0ver. I wasn't sure if she was going to go picnic and lie down on it,or if she was throwing it in the dumpster. Eventually she flung it over what's left of an old laundry line, clumsily and sadly. Then she kept peeking under it, maybe to check for tiny monsters.
Gretchen: "Oh! she must be German."
Theresa: "Because she needs to figure her shit out?"
Gretchen: "No, Germans air out their comforters a lot."
See, I guess that makes sense.
I'm just crotchety and over-stimulated. If I can't handle someone airing out their comforter, I don't think I could handle intrepid young adventurers. At least not yet.

Queueueueueueueueueueueueueue - interesting point, eh?

Janet, who I'm talking with over the World Wide Web, just said this:
mmmm No, but I don't live with any Brits so our food is generally "international". Do steer clear of the Kipper though. Beware the Kipper! Oh it is soo not worth it. gag.

I believe she might be right.

It's amazing how many things I can do within one blog post:
-Berate neighbors
-Eat cheesecake
-Bitch about exclamation points
-Bitch about British cuisine
-Talk to a friend in another country
-Talk to two roommates
-Take headache medicine
-Half-heartedly wash a few dishes
-Read Kenneth Koch
-Feel hungry

Well I'd say this about wraps up this episode of "The Ornery Ponderings of HangOverVille: Theresa Blogs Instead of Sleeps." I've had a wonderful time, and I hope you have too. See you next week!