'cause no one wants a fellow with a social disease
Apparently I've started following Molly's title paradigm. Which reminds me of Dr. McFarland last spring: "What a ridiculous phrase, macrocosmic paradigm. I can't believe I said that." Which in turn reminds me of Dr. Ray about a week ago, for some reason employing the phrase 'melismatic cantilation.' I like words.
And now you have a tiny glimpse of a typical Ginny train of thought. Bless you, my child.
I was lying in bed this morning feeling my heart beat, and it just astounded me that every single beat pushes blood all through my body, even to my toes. I was reading a kids' book about the human body last week when I was babysitting, and I think I'm a lot more impressed by it as an adult than I was as a kid. As a kid, you just expect weird and remarkable things to be true. As an adult, you somehow think that the everyday and the extraordinary are mutually exclusive... until you stop and think. Anyway. With all this complex fine-tuned machinery functioning near-flawlessly day after day to keep me alive, it seems silly to be fretting about obtuse and trivial things like relationships.
We have a little book of madrigals which we're using in Singers this semester, and flipping idly through it I have discovered some gems of Elizabethan thought. One begins: "Upon a summer's day Love went to swim," and there's a great one about women that I have to find again. But my favorite of course is "Come sirrah Jack ho." Ready for it?
Come sirrah Jack ho,
Fill some tobacco,
Bring a wire and some fire,
Haste haste away,
quick I say,
do not stay,
shun delay,
for I drank none good today.
I swear that this tobacco
Is perfect Trinidad-o;
By the very very Mass,
never never was
better gear
than is here,
by the rood,
for the blood,
it is very very good,
'tis very good.
Just try reciting that briskly, and see if it doesn't brighten your day.
And now you have a tiny glimpse of a typical Ginny train of thought. Bless you, my child.
I was lying in bed this morning feeling my heart beat, and it just astounded me that every single beat pushes blood all through my body, even to my toes. I was reading a kids' book about the human body last week when I was babysitting, and I think I'm a lot more impressed by it as an adult than I was as a kid. As a kid, you just expect weird and remarkable things to be true. As an adult, you somehow think that the everyday and the extraordinary are mutually exclusive... until you stop and think. Anyway. With all this complex fine-tuned machinery functioning near-flawlessly day after day to keep me alive, it seems silly to be fretting about obtuse and trivial things like relationships.
We have a little book of madrigals which we're using in Singers this semester, and flipping idly through it I have discovered some gems of Elizabethan thought. One begins: "Upon a summer's day Love went to swim," and there's a great one about women that I have to find again. But my favorite of course is "Come sirrah Jack ho." Ready for it?
Come sirrah Jack ho,
Fill some tobacco,
Bring a wire and some fire,
Haste haste away,
quick I say,
do not stay,
shun delay,
for I drank none good today.
I swear that this tobacco
Is perfect Trinidad-o;
By the very very Mass,
never never was
better gear
than is here,
by the rood,
for the blood,
it is very very good,
'tis very good.
Just try reciting that briskly, and see if it doesn't brighten your day.