Chimera Song Mosaic
Monday, December 20, 2004
This is a post draft dated Dec. 20, 2004. Just to prove that I was compelled to blog even at that stressful and wild time, but I was pulled away by this and that filial commitment. Alas, I shall never finish it now, but here's where I was winding up before being called away for dinner:

I finished Lady Chatterley's Lover and had a long, what seemed to be thoughtful, review planned out for it, but never got around to posting it. In short, I liked it. At first I was sort of ashamed with myself because I could never get to liking her lover--probably because he frequently spoke with a local, English-hick-like dialect, which to my reading ear made him sound unintelligent, and since I am a bit snobby that way, [here begins the . . .]

Friday, December 03, 2004
You haven't done it in a really long time; you know you should, but you shouldn't . . .

Yesterday my buds and I M.A.S.H'd: you know--Mansion/Apartment/Shack/House

For you those of you who don't remember junior high and your adolescent girlhood, you pick four possible mates, four cars, four jobs, four numbers (of childrens), and then draw a spiral whose swirls denote the secret number that you then use to eliminate prospects by counting (like "catch a tiger by his toe"). But the cool part is that your girlfriends get to pick some of the prospects, so you could end up with a goofy mate or vehicle or whatever. Marisa said, "M.A.S.H. me right now; I simply must find out who I marry."

I got: Goran Visnjic in a Shack driving an Explorer with Two kids working as a Frycook (those dang' modifiers!). I did not get: Fabulously Famous Writer. I think I should have gone for something more reasonable, like Poet Whose Work is Most Often Described as Obscure, yet has Mass Appeal. It's really what I'm going for anyway.

I have 16 more argumentative research papers, a class (23) of literary research papers, and a half class (9) mini literary research papers to go. Then final exams. Since I can see the end in sight, I believe I'll divert my attentions tomorrow to sending out lots of poems to journals. Watch out; they could be coming your way soon.

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