Lavender, Labyrinths, Geertz and Goffman.

[thebarbalag]

My weekend. Read. Read. Read. Friday was folklore and pretense and, "Oh, aren't we both so poised and pretty." Post Modernism is creeping through my mind which wants very badly to be Modernist. True/False continues to freeze my fingers to nothing and give me excellent reasons not to go dancing. Pan's Labyrinth turned my Sunday morning dreams into a crazy, Splash-meets-Dark Crystal, comic-book hero, desperate, hopeful mess. Sunday she said facade over and over again. Stupid people don't use words like that to describe their stupidity. She broke my brain in half and I spent hours, over lavender water and Battlestar, laughing maniacally, putting it back together. I can feel the screams in my head as I wake up early to read about Thick Description...and not because of class. They're gonna wanna know how we got in here. They're gonna wanna know how we plan to get out. We better have a good explanation for all the fun that we had. Finally! A new metaphor. The fireplace was getting a little dusty, I know. This is my brain on me. Writing the mythic history of our lives in sloppy prose, diving into the theory of behavior (and anyone who wants to say that there's a human endeavor that isn't behavior can bite me) with reckless abandon, devouring a pointlessly long, dense, meandering, obscure French novel, giving words and music to the feeling of loss and displacement that is what it is to be 20-something in America while I try to, try to, try to...where was I? Caesar would be proud, that last sentence (fragment) would've been a hell of an ablative absolute. Now there are just seven minutes left, ten minus the most random number.

It should be noted, in the interest of full disclosure, that I am seriously phonomantically off today. While the Ani song up there was fortuitous, it took forever to get to where I was going in the end. We always come home though. It's a lifetime commitment.