Signifying nothing

Kendrakoo has written a poem about being a woman. Sleepy E came close to a fist fight outside of Atlanta. Mid-B remembers Breaking Away . Ron of Counterintuitive is stuck in the looming semester. lisa b contemplates silence and child rearing. Cordelia illustrates a junk house. Snyder got married. lis wants to see hip studies in cultural studies classes. Dr. Write is stuck contemplating running. Charkes is very stuck illustrating dam hoses. Kim wonders about Cher fans. catinlap shares his cell phone pics. Jenny has been busy with her new digs and what not, but gives up the pictures of the afore-mentioned Snyder's nuptuals. the bunny has some knitting to do. D-Lo gives us a poem about beauty. I've given you a blogacious round up.

Here's something for your end-of-summer depression . I am pretty sure that all the people depicted in it are dead.

I sit on the grass on the north side of campus as the Republicans drive by. Some have incredibly expensive cars, others have cars that are worse for wear: minivans and trucks dirty with the high desert summer. The dude who drove by in his forest green Jag knows he is something special. You can tell by the way he has his head thrown back. I wonder what sins he has committed to get that wealth. Excessive wealth, unless you are very lucky, always seems to be linked in some way with immoral or unethical actions. I know no such thing of this anonymous man, however, but have a predilection against him. Something about his need to show off his wealth goads me into thinking ill of him. Somewhere down deep in my psyche hides a judgmental Puritan who suspects all such extravagant wealth as ill-gotten. The Republicans are here for their Fall convention, I assume, and I am here because I left something in my office that I will need this weekend. So I sit and wait for the bus and watch the Republic...

I have never properly appreciated the music of Pat Benatar. Contacts are easier to put in after a shower. Benatar has a lot to make up for with "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." Is "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" about a physically abusive relationship? Why is the phrase "Bitch Factor Zero" funny? Is it akin to "Mother's Sanctity Grip?" I still think I could fight a grizzly bear and win.

Ok women readers of Signifying nothing : What's up with Heathcliff ? Male readers: What's up with Cathy ? Everyone: what the hell does wuthering mean anyway? Next post: What the hell is up with Rochester?/Jane Eyre?/Reader I married him? Oh yeah: Kate Bush .

All my bloggity teaching friends are making me anxious what with all their posts bemoaning the end of summer (as we know it)--- here --- here --- here . I know the feeling quite well, but as I work in the summer I don't feel it quite the way I used to. The end of summer used to seem like reckoning time: when reality hit for all one's great plans and you had to set them aside. Being that I only had 2 weeks of pure freedom this year, I was amazed at how enthused I am to be back at work. I entered by 2 weeks, however, with no major plans and accomplished all of them and more! Woot! Some time ago I broke the school-year anxiety cycle. There are benefits to working a 12 month contract, after all. It can still creep back in, however, particularly when paper-response-time looms.

Well vacation was over. I just got back from the last excursion (another camping trip) to the Stansbury mountains a couple of valleys away from SLC to the west. Unlike you might suspect, the Stansbury canyons are quite tree-lined. We stayed in the upper loop near the trail head to Deseret Peak. The rest of vacation was staying as far away as possible from computers and anything that I might associate with work, other than my outburst last Friday, which was just a response to my pent up need for comedy. No I didn't go to Tennessee, but I did manage to adventure myself a good two weeks, and I'm not really going to write about any of it since that's not the point of experiencing it or of this so-called journal.

First you do the dishes: Well first you open a beer, and then you do the dishes: (Suggested Music: Lynyrd Skynyrd 's Thyrty: 30th Anniversary Collection .) Next you gather your ingredients and necessary items: (Right to left: cracked bulgar wheat, ground cumin, garlic, green onions, mint, cucumber, salt, lemon juice (you can squeeze your own if you are one of those east-coast libruls), 2 tomatoes, black pepper (damn what kind of pansy grinds his own black pepper?), parsley and olive oil.) You'll need a knife, something to cut on, a garlic press (yeah yeah more pansy-ass cooking gear, but it is better than wasting all your time cutting up the shit), a couple of bowls, and a measuring cup. Oh don't forget beer: Remember beer? Good-old all-American beer! How could we forget it?! It is best to wrap yourself in the flag while making this recipe, to fend off any attacks that you are a secret Islamicist. The stars and bars would be best, but Old Glory will do in a pinch. So h...

"Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both" (E.B. White, Charlotte's Web 184.)

I have a new study/music conservatory/hideout. This is me in my typical blogging garb: Check out more pictures at the usual place .

Always wear proper eye, face and ear protection especially designed to protect life. Never shoot a person who is not wearing proper protection. Treat every life as if it were loaded. Never look down the barrel of life. Never point life at anything you don't wish to shoot. Keep life on safe until ready to shoot. Store life unloaded in a locked place. Follow warning listed on life source for handing and storage. Do not shoot fragile objects such as windows. Life may cause staining of some pourous surfaces such as brick, stucco and wood. Always measure velocity before playing life. Never engage in vandalism. Do no use life for drive-by shooting. Do not modify your life in any way.

This is just to say I have used all the Fancy towels That you were probably Saving for guest Forgive me They were so soft And comforting This is just to say That I drank All the gin that was In the Freezer Forgive me Since you were probably Saving it for Happier times This is just to say I have eaten all the Words that were in The dictionary That you were probably Going to use in a poem Forgive me They were so Taught and useful This is just to say I have waited all night long For you to answer My calls Forgive my loss of tears It was so pointless And empty This is just to say I have sold the William Carlos Williams Manuscript You were probably saving For future investment Forgive me It was so lucrative And sweet This is just to say I have lost all motivation Forgive me Oh fuck it. This is just to say You will be hearing From my lawyer in The morning Forgive me, But she was so Persuasive And kind.

1) The quiet moan of lawnmowers. 2) Vacant front porches--all but one. 3) Cyclists being ignored by car drivers.

"'My, my. A body does get around. here we aint been coming from Alabama but two months, and now it's already Tennessee" (William Faulkner, Light in August , 480).

A boy stands at the small-town coffee shop counter. He is on the verge of asking out the barista. She wears a tight fitting black AC/DC tee shirt with hip huggers and a Maltese cross belt. The tee shirt emphasizes the curve of her breasts what with the lightning bolt that serves as the slash between AC and DC. Her hair is beautiful and drops enticingly over her eyes rimmed in heavy black eyeliner. She is hot and he has tried his best to flirt with her, but she has been flirting with him better, admiring his tattoo (a lone birch leaf with hockey stick crossed behind it.) You can tell he is on the verge of asking her out because of his sideways glances to see if anyone is watching and whether, more importantly, she is watching him. He fumbles his money onto the counter and momentarily their hands meet as they both reach for the money at the same time.

"Our journey begins in the holy city of Banaras, capital of India's Barnaras District. The city is located along the north bank of the Ganges River for three and a half miles. The city was probably founded about 1200 B.C. Splendid temples and costly palaces are reflected in the waters, as sacred to the Hindus as Jordan is to Christians. Thousands of pilgrms come here each year to undergo the rites of purification from sin. At intervals along the bank there are flights of steps by which pilgrms may go down to bathe in the water. The Hindus believe that to die in Banaras and have one's ashes scattered upon the Ganges is to be certain of gaining salvation. The city is a maze of alleys, many line by temples and shrines." "Next we travel eleven miles south of the capitol Dehli to Kutb Minar, considered to be the most perfect tower in the world. Surely it is one of India's architechura wonders! It is built in five stories and rises to a height of over two hundred f...

I've officially found the world's ugliest chair: The aquatically-themed chair is on some giant plaster base with satinesque orangio-pink and cyan fabric. The print is of a pond with fish and other plants. The arm rests you see are cranes who are spearing fish: The monstrosity is so shit-monkey ugly that words fail me. The best part of the deal, however, is that it is part of a complete set: another chair, a table, and a sofa. Imagine the people who originally bought this--their shear joy in the knowledge that they were owners of pure ugly. Ah I wish that were true. "Oh Evelina!" I can imagine the bored 60s housefrau on the phone to an equally bored Weight Watchers friend. "You've simply got to come see the beautiful living room set LaDell bought me for our anniversary! It goes perfectly with that orange swag lamp you saw at S&H Green Stamps!" I'd buy the set to put it out of its misery by blasting holes in it with a shotgun out in the desert, bu...

So Ron is the only one who's broken a bone?

WENT CAMPING STOP UINTAS STOP TOOK NO PICTURES STOP OTHERS DID STOP