3pipeproblem (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
3pipeproblem) wrote2007-03-16 02:49 pm
3pipeproblem) wrote2007-03-16 02:49 pm
(no subject)
Yes, I now have an Ari Gold icon. The responsible parties know who they are.
I have midterms (no comment) and spring break to thank for my absence. The majority of break, as it turned out, consisted of going into internet withdrawal, freaking out about my thesis, and playing water polo games. Not the best combination.
But then there was nice weather, some time spent on the beach, and visits from the delightful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moomookrymoo (we watched this scary Georgia Tech fan smack chairs and yell as they lost in double overtime to Wake Forest) and the delightful dien (who patiently tolerated my asking, "What would Paul think of this?" at every available opportunity). And also margaritas. And games of sardines in our enormous beach house (with a pool table! and a hot tub!). So I guess it wasn't a complete loss.
The NCAA basketball tournament has taken over my brain. This is rather strange because the only NCAA game I've seen was the aforementioned Georgia Tech/Wake Forest three-point shot contest. However, for the purposes of entertainment (and procrastination), I filled out a bracket, and it has been rocking. I called the VCU and Xavier victories and have thus far been severely disappointed only by Oral Roberts. Damn them. My obsession has reached the point where I was dreaming about basketball (and about my dad robbing a convenience store, but mostly about basketball). At least until I was jerked awake by a fire alarm.
Finally, I'm reading an absolutely fantastic book. A friend recommended it to me months and months ago, but I couldn't remember the title. Which is absurd, because the title is Special Topics in Calamity Physics. It is, to be reductive, a mystery narrated by the precocious and literary Blue van Meer, daughter of acclaimed political science professor Gareth van Meer. The book is practically tailor-made for me to fall in love with it: it's brimming with literary and film references and it has a character who could be a young Alan Shore. I've read 462 of 508 pages and I dread reaching the end.
"I'm obliged to reveal an old trick: implacable self-possession can be attained by all, not by pretending to look absorbed in what's clearly a blank spiral notebook; not by trying to convince yourself you're an undiscovered rock star, movie star, top model, tycoon, Bond, Bond Girl, Queen Elizabeth, Elizabeth Bennet or Eliza Doolittle at the Ambassador's Ball; not by imagining you're a long-lost member of the Vanderbilt faimly, nor by tilting up your chin fifteen to forty-five degrees and pretending to be Grace Kelly in her prime. These methods work in theory, but in practice they slip away, so one is left hideously naked with nothing but the stained sheet of self-confidence around one's feet.
Instead, stately dignity can be possessed by all, in two ways:
1. Diverting the mind with a book or play
2. Reciting Keats
I discovered this technique early in life, in second grade at Sparta Elementary. When I couldn't help but overhear details of Eleanor Slagg and Her Recent Exclusive Sleepover, I pulled a book out of my bag, Mein Kampf (Hitler, 1925), which I'd randomly stolen from Dad's library. I tucked my head between the hardback covers and, with the severity of the German Chancellor himself, made myself read and read until the words on the page invaded Eleanor's words and Eleanor's words surrendered."
I have midterms (no comment) and spring break to thank for my absence. The majority of break, as it turned out, consisted of going into internet withdrawal, freaking out about my thesis, and playing water polo games. Not the best combination.
But then there was nice weather, some time spent on the beach, and visits from the delightful
moomookrymoo (we watched this scary Georgia Tech fan smack chairs and yell as they lost in double overtime to Wake Forest) and the delightful dien (who patiently tolerated my asking, "What would Paul think of this?" at every available opportunity). And also margaritas. And games of sardines in our enormous beach house (with a pool table! and a hot tub!). So I guess it wasn't a complete loss.The NCAA basketball tournament has taken over my brain. This is rather strange because the only NCAA game I've seen was the aforementioned Georgia Tech/Wake Forest three-point shot contest. However, for the purposes of entertainment (and procrastination), I filled out a bracket, and it has been rocking. I called the VCU and Xavier victories and have thus far been severely disappointed only by Oral Roberts. Damn them. My obsession has reached the point where I was dreaming about basketball (and about my dad robbing a convenience store, but mostly about basketball). At least until I was jerked awake by a fire alarm.
Finally, I'm reading an absolutely fantastic book. A friend recommended it to me months and months ago, but I couldn't remember the title. Which is absurd, because the title is Special Topics in Calamity Physics. It is, to be reductive, a mystery narrated by the precocious and literary Blue van Meer, daughter of acclaimed political science professor Gareth van Meer. The book is practically tailor-made for me to fall in love with it: it's brimming with literary and film references and it has a character who could be a young Alan Shore. I've read 462 of 508 pages and I dread reaching the end.
"I'm obliged to reveal an old trick: implacable self-possession can be attained by all, not by pretending to look absorbed in what's clearly a blank spiral notebook; not by trying to convince yourself you're an undiscovered rock star, movie star, top model, tycoon, Bond, Bond Girl, Queen Elizabeth, Elizabeth Bennet or Eliza Doolittle at the Ambassador's Ball; not by imagining you're a long-lost member of the Vanderbilt faimly, nor by tilting up your chin fifteen to forty-five degrees and pretending to be Grace Kelly in her prime. These methods work in theory, but in practice they slip away, so one is left hideously naked with nothing but the stained sheet of self-confidence around one's feet.
Instead, stately dignity can be possessed by all, in two ways:
1. Diverting the mind with a book or play
2. Reciting Keats
I discovered this technique early in life, in second grade at Sparta Elementary. When I couldn't help but overhear details of Eleanor Slagg and Her Recent Exclusive Sleepover, I pulled a book out of my bag, Mein Kampf (Hitler, 1925), which I'd randomly stolen from Dad's library. I tucked my head between the hardback covers and, with the severity of the German Chancellor himself, made myself read and read until the words on the page invaded Eleanor's words and Eleanor's words surrendered."
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Also, I need an Ari icon. I've made them and collected them, but not uploaded. What's wrong with me?
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I don't knoooow. I like this one because the notebook paper and the font allow me to imagine Ari writing his name as "Ari Gold, Super Agent" on tests in grade school.
I may have watched season one of Entourage because of you.no subject
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