Fail

I just wrote an exam for my Shakespeare class and I think I might have failed it. Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it now. I don't sweat the small stuff. I just really need to learn to stop procrastinating, because if I got all my readings done I would get a lot more out of my classes.

I probably would have done much better on the exam if I hadn't spent yesterday going with my sister to pick out frames for her reading glasses. We went to Starbucks at Chapters first and had tea lattes. I'm so glad they have london fogs there now, but they're not as good as the ones at the cafe on campus. I didn't buy any books, unfortunately or fortunately. I did get some cd's though:


A collection of songs by the lovely Lady Ella, First Lady of Song, master of scat. It was a wonderful deal: ten cd's for 16 dollars.





Same deal for a collection of Louis Armstrong songs. I have pretty much unlimited Ella and Louis now.





And also, how could I pass it up: Bob Dylan, Time Out of Mind.






After Chapters we went to the mall to check out some frames, and I convinced her to get Buddy Holly glasses. Because they're cool. And I want to steal them. We have the same prescription so it will be happening.
We also found a tea store that we never knew existed and now I want to live there.

Anyway, I have a lot of reading to do that I should be getting to. I have to finish Neuromancer and start reading Angels of America for tomorrow, but it might not happen. I love fridays. I only have one class and I definately plan on taking my books to my favourite coffee shop after and reading the day away.

Whole

(Please don't use photo without permission.)

Lights on in the building across the street
Shadows, swift, slither past windows
Mirror me, be whole
for me, hollowed and afflicted,
missing pieces left in lakes and lecture halls,
both fleshy, raw, and intangible
With asymptotic closeness you mock and intrigue
but the distance, the distance,
is always between
Maybe one day we'll meet, when infinity
closes its long stretching fist.
But whose shadow am I? Whose
whole to a part?
Whose silhouette in the window
across the street?

Three Men in Florence

(Photo by me. Please don't use without permission.)

...and they called the third Wrinkly:

"Dude, we would look so cool right now if you just learned how to use an iron."
"Shut up. I didn't hire you two to critique my fashion sense. I hired you to make me look like someone famous..."
"Well, you do look like you just rolled out of bed after a week long heroine marathon."
"I was going for shabby chic..."

Different

(Photo by me. Please don't use without permission.)

When you're not human, standing out makes humans love you more. When you are human, it's a different story.