SO LATE TO THE PARTY
I saw Brokeback Mountain for the first time today. I didn't see the beginning or the end of it, but it was the most adorable, saddest thing. I think it was therapeutic for my friends too. My little conservative vanilla friends, god love them. When I came in they were like "This is what happened and then there was sex and it was awkward" and I'm like "Yeah... " At this point the two main characters whose names I never knew were topless and making out again and I interjected "You know, at this point I'm REALLY OKAY with seeing Jake Gylenhaal naked and making out with someone equally as attractive as him." And they agreed, and by the time I left the room for dance class they were talking about it in terms of domination and submission. Sweet corruption. My work there was done.
Speaking of work, I finished my painting of the Hitachiin twins and it turned out very well, so I'm starting a large painting of Draco Malfoy from HBP (it's an extremely ambitious piece for someone with my level of experience) and a small painting of the Seal of Rassilon, for the theme house we will hopefully be awarded next year. I get to occupy the Sci-Fi Room with my friend, and it will be legendary.
Attention Nerdfighters! A new forum for nerdfighters has opened at this website ( www.yourpants.org ), and so I ask you to go and register in your pants. I've been in your pants for a day or two now, and there are some seriously cool people in there. Your pants are open to the public and ready for business. On a similar note, I used your pants to locate another nerdfighter who attends my college! The conversation we had was so full of innuendos and codes, and it was amazing.
I was challenged to write a love story for Valentine's Day. Romance is not my genre, let me tell you. Further, this is the prompt I was given: "Rubber bands are endlessly useful." I had to write a love story beginning with that sentence. I will post it here- let's see if I can make the cut work this time. [edit: I can't. I'll just overload yall's friends page, nbd.]
Rubber bands are endlessly useful. They are useful, and they’re a complete circle, no beginning or end. It’s funny how something with no front or back, top or bottom, beginning or end could have such a clearly defined center. A globular slice of two-dimensional interstice that cannot even be properly described as an infinity of points, because the boundaries are capable of stretching and retracting into many different sizes, folding the plane of possibilities back on itself and sometimes causing it to be destroyed completely, only to be reborn as if by a miracle when the thing is removed from its previous post of employment. From where I am now, this seems to be the way human life should be. No one remembers their beginning, and their end cannot be remembered because they are no longer inside that stretchy hoop of life.
As it stands, I am at that point in the rubber band where it’s been used one too many times and is about to snap, thus defining the beginning and the end, and allowing the middle to rush out into the ether and join the blob of space released by the millions of broken bands that came before, to disperse into the infinite, never again to be defined by a slender slice of physical reality.
In a way, this happens twice during the stretch of a good life. The first time you break, you are tied end-to-end with another. It’s easy to distinguish one band from the other, but regardless of the knots that are tied in reality the gooey, elastic, ethereal centers are merged to form one large disc. The joined bands can stretch more, last longer, fly farther, and hold more within them than any single band could. It’s easy to see ones origin and end- you begin where the first knot joins you to him. You end where he ends. Unfortunately, my poor husband is in that position now. That’s the only thing I regret about this business. He will have to find a way to reattach to himself without me, to patch up his middle using the two ends that will be all too visible to him for a while. He’s a strong, wonderful man.
We’d been together so long that our wedding rings had left indentations in the bones of our fingers, our life bands permanently twisted in kind. We went to war together- I removed shrapnel, he removed my father’s last name. We went to the Orient and built a church together. We went to the Milky Way and swung on the stars. We made a star of our own- Andromeda. She glimmers in the distance, outshining all of my hopes and expectations. But for now I just feel the warm glow of my beloved by my side, fingers interlaced with mine, keeping me company, waiting. I look up at him, our whole life together suspended between us, reflecting between our two pairs of eyes.
“I love you.”
Speaking of work, I finished my painting of the Hitachiin twins and it turned out very well, so I'm starting a large painting of Draco Malfoy from HBP (it's an extremely ambitious piece for someone with my level of experience) and a small painting of the Seal of Rassilon, for the theme house we will hopefully be awarded next year. I get to occupy the Sci-Fi Room with my friend, and it will be legendary.
Attention Nerdfighters! A new forum for nerdfighters has opened at this website ( www.yourpants.org ), and so I ask you to go and register in your pants. I've been in your pants for a day or two now, and there are some seriously cool people in there. Your pants are open to the public and ready for business. On a similar note, I used your pants to locate another nerdfighter who attends my college! The conversation we had was so full of innuendos and codes, and it was amazing.
I was challenged to write a love story for Valentine's Day. Romance is not my genre, let me tell you. Further, this is the prompt I was given: "Rubber bands are endlessly useful." I had to write a love story beginning with that sentence. I will post it here- let's see if I can make the cut work this time. [edit: I can't. I'll just overload yall's friends page, nbd.]
Rubber bands are endlessly useful. They are useful, and they’re a complete circle, no beginning or end. It’s funny how something with no front or back, top or bottom, beginning or end could have such a clearly defined center. A globular slice of two-dimensional interstice that cannot even be properly described as an infinity of points, because the boundaries are capable of stretching and retracting into many different sizes, folding the plane of possibilities back on itself and sometimes causing it to be destroyed completely, only to be reborn as if by a miracle when the thing is removed from its previous post of employment. From where I am now, this seems to be the way human life should be. No one remembers their beginning, and their end cannot be remembered because they are no longer inside that stretchy hoop of life.
As it stands, I am at that point in the rubber band where it’s been used one too many times and is about to snap, thus defining the beginning and the end, and allowing the middle to rush out into the ether and join the blob of space released by the millions of broken bands that came before, to disperse into the infinite, never again to be defined by a slender slice of physical reality.
In a way, this happens twice during the stretch of a good life. The first time you break, you are tied end-to-end with another. It’s easy to distinguish one band from the other, but regardless of the knots that are tied in reality the gooey, elastic, ethereal centers are merged to form one large disc. The joined bands can stretch more, last longer, fly farther, and hold more within them than any single band could. It’s easy to see ones origin and end- you begin where the first knot joins you to him. You end where he ends. Unfortunately, my poor husband is in that position now. That’s the only thing I regret about this business. He will have to find a way to reattach to himself without me, to patch up his middle using the two ends that will be all too visible to him for a while. He’s a strong, wonderful man.
We’d been together so long that our wedding rings had left indentations in the bones of our fingers, our life bands permanently twisted in kind. We went to war together- I removed shrapnel, he removed my father’s last name. We went to the Orient and built a church together. We went to the Milky Way and swung on the stars. We made a star of our own- Andromeda. She glimmers in the distance, outshining all of my hopes and expectations. But for now I just feel the warm glow of my beloved by my side, fingers interlaced with mine, keeping me company, waiting. I look up at him, our whole life together suspended between us, reflecting between our two pairs of eyes.
“I love you.”