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Adorably positive radio

Jun. 19th, 2009 | 01:39 pm
location: Northampton
mood: hopefulhopeful
music: Construction on Conz St.

Has anyone in this area ever listened to 98.3 based in Greenfield? I'm only just really learning which stations are which (b/c I only listen in the car). I'm not sure if this one is consistently this adorable, but last night's DJ, who mentioned at various points that she does the show out of her home and makes a mess doing art at the same time, was the most positive, heartwarming radio voice I've ever heard. In the midst of various positive remarks and exclamations of love for the audience, she had a phone call that went basically like this:

DJ: I have someone on the phone right now that is grinning from ear to ear. Tell us what's making you so happy.

Other person: I just got married to the most wonderful man! We're on our (sort of) honeymoon and I just had to call you to tell you!

DJ: You're on your honeymoon and you had to call ME? Tell me why this man is so wonderful.

OP: He's perfect! He's not at all who I ever imagined myself with, but he's perfect. He's always there for me and does everything he can to make sure I'm happy.

DJ: Why couldn't you imagine yourself with a perfect guy?

OP: Well, because I tend to go with the bad guys.

DJ: *gasp!* You have a broken picker-outer!

OP: *laughs* I guess so!

DJ: How old are you?

OP: 23.

DJ: Ah, that's ok then. When I was 23 I had a broken picker-outer. In fact when I was 33 I had a broken picker outer too. At 43 I STILL had a broken picker-outer.


Whenever I'm depressed, I'm going to listen to this station :)

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The joy of Bond

May. 5th, 2009 | 12:20 am
location: Enfield 45
mood: bouncybouncy

Currently reading Casino Royale, the first James Bond book in the original series by Ian Fleming. The following is pretty representative of how the whole book is written.

"With most women his manner was a mixture of taciturnity and passion. The lengthy approaches to a seduction bored him almost as much as the subsequent mess of disentanglement. He found something grisly in the inevitability of the pattern of each affair. The conventional parabola-- sentiment, the touch of the hand, the kiss, the passionate kiss, the feel of the body, the climax in the bed, then more bed, then less bed, then the boredom, the tears and the final bitterness was to him shameful and hypocritical. Even more he shunned the mise en scene for each of these acts in the play-- the meeting at a party, the restaurant, the taxi, his flat, her flat, then the week-end by the sea, then the flats again, then the furtive alibis and the final angry farewell on some doorstep in the rain.

But with Vesper there could be none of this."


Excellence.

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End times.

Feb. 12th, 2009 | 11:47 pm
location: Overly hot room in the Mt. Holyoke library
mood: busybusy
music: Lilly Allen

This shit isn't supposed to happen. My home is doomed. http://www.honoluluadvertiser.com/article/20090212/NEWS12/902120332.

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On familial death

Jan. 29th, 2009 | 11:46 am
location: Hampshire College
mood: discontentdiscontent
music: If I Ever Leave This World Alive by Flogging Molly

My cousin, Michael Morriss, age 23, drowned a few days ago while free diving. The revised news article is here (the first one, posted on Tues, missed the last s in Morriss and was apparently revised): http://www.honoluluadvertiser.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2009901280358. We were not close, so I am mostly grieving vicariously through my other cousins, though my own feelings manage to creep up on me every few hours. I wish I could be home for the funeral, but that would be impractical.

I keep musing on the manner of death and how it affects grief. In some ways the fact that he died suddenly, young and healthy, while in the midst of an activity he loved seems preferable to a slow tragic illness. Obviously it is terrible in its unexpectedness and unfair in that he was in his prime, not yet entirely sure what he wanted to do with his life. It feels senseless, due to a simple miscalculation of his own abilities as opposed to a heroic sacrifice or a tragic murder. I think that senselessness has the ability to make the grief worse because there is no alternative channel for emotion, no one to blame, no cause to support. He's just gone.

Also thinking about the parallels to the death of my own brother (whose middle name was Michael) under very different circumstances when he was a toddler. Would I trade the manner and time of his death for one like this, if I could? These questions are never worth answering.
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Oh feel the burn.

Dec. 29th, 2008 | 08:55 pm
location: Kitchen
mood: hyperhyper
music: Defective by The Crystal Method

Today I did so many pushups that my deltoids now refuse to contract. It's awkward.
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Oh Christmas

Dec. 24th, 2008 | 09:41 pm
mood: morosemorose

Christmas dinner with my great aunt went much better than expected, and I'm convinced that trannyboys are universally loved by four years olds. However I'm still sort of hoping that this is my last Christmas at home.

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My life in books

Dec. 21st, 2008 | 12:59 pm
location: my room
mood: nostalgicnostalgic
music: birds in the trees

So I ran into my room to hide while my mother was on the phone with relatives (didn't want her suddenly getting the idea that I might want to talk to them) and got to looking long and hard at my books. I have two floor to ceiling sets of shelves that are simply crammed full, in a loose chronological order. The first set of shelves contains mostly young adult fantasy series such as Dragonlance and Wheel of Time, technical manuals for Star Trek, and D&D rule books. The second set is mostly books from high school classes, i.e. every greek play translated into English, Shakespeare, Rousseau, Descartes, Bertrand Russell, and different versions of the Bible. I was not aware of how much emotion was tied up in these books, or how weird it can feel to thumb through a book I don't remember ever reading and finding it chocked full of my own marginalia, mostly an equal balance of surprisingly apt comments and really dumb shit. And then there is the Signet Classic unabridged copy of Les Misérables, a sea of red ink and yellow post-it notes, all held together with dirty masking tape. I have no idea what to do with this book. It is practically too fragile to open, and not really good for anything except to remind me of what an innocent little lit geek I was between the ages of 14 and 18. What do I do with any of these books? It doesn't feel right to keep them here in the name of nostalgia when they might be read (as well as yield me a hefty sum) at a used book store. On the other hand most of them have marginalia, making them impossible to sell. I kind of just want to go back to high school now.

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Swimmy!

Dec. 18th, 2008 | 10:24 pm
location: The couch I'm starting to hate
mood: hothot
music: Daft Punk

I swam a mile (swimmer's mile being only 1650 yards) in 42 minutes, which is terribly slow all things considered, but pretty good for me since I haven't swum in years. I keep screwing up my feet running, so I'll probably be doing a lot more of it. Just wish it didn't leave me completely drained afterward.

In other news, home is boring without friends to drag me away from my division III. Come home quick, everybody.
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Woo!

Dec. 17th, 2008 | 10:21 pm
location: Honolulu
mood: contentcontent
music: Zeitgeist, the movie

So I decided it was dry enough today to go up the Koko Head tramway. I managed to get stuck behind/inside a (perfectly congenial) Japanese tour group but still made it up in the personal record time of 19:08. Last July it took me a good 40 minutes. Steroids are amazing.
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Hello to everyone expecting something from me

Aug. 19th, 2008 | 05:12 pm
location: Honolulu
mood: lazylazy
music: silence

I swear I'll post an entry right before school starts up. Until then, I'm going to be boring.

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