Someone put out a bowl of candy here at work. May God have mercy on us all.

So, tonight, I will be showing two horror films in preparation for next year's Halloween extravaganza. If I can't go to the film festival then I'll bring the film festival to me. Tonight I'll be showing Hell House and Tale of Two Sisters. If people can swing by then by all means, come and make yourself at home.

Watch this. I loves it.

The other day I introduced myself to a classmate who's into illustrating. I had a project lined up by it's currently on hiatus - and who knows, projects tend to get rejuvenated. Anyway, the illustrator is interested in looking at some scripts I've been working on. I don't expect instant success, but the more networking I do the greater chance I have at getting a project off the ground.


Studying as it rains outside.

I'm still trying to master brewing a decent espresso. Ever since I received my beloved stovetop espresso pot, I've been experimenting with different water to coffee ratios to find the perfect balance. Most of the time I succeed, but I would love to be able to make a superb espresso blindfolded.

I want recipe ideas for Christmas. Give them to me now. Here's one.

I have another French quiz tomorrow, which I'm currently studying at the moment. How will I do? J n'ai sais pas. Je suis assez fatigué ce le soir, et je ne veux pas étudier pour mon examen demain.


The grades are just pouring in now.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote a paper on Horace's dissertation (perhaps not the correct word) on the poet, and although I worked hard on it, I was worried I was missing some crucial argument. I got the paper back yesterday. An A+!

I did get a B+ on my Freud mid-term, and today I did five minute presentation, psychoanalyzing the protagonist in Neil Gaiman's Coraline. I was so nervous, I had trouble articulating my argument. I kept stammering and forgetting my lines. Ugh. I only hope my thesis came across somewhat clearly.

Slovoj Zizec is coming to Vancouver on November 1st! I will definitely be there. There should be an accent circonflexe above the two z's in his name. Stupid monolingual computer.


Linky linky loo. . .

Before I hit the books, here's some intrawubb signals I've intercepted:

I'm obsessed with invisibility. I don't know why. Probably a result of consuming far too much science fiction and comic books in my greener days. Now, my dream is being realized.

I <3 libraries. Hold your breath before clicking on the link.

Somewhere on planet Earth, a group of scientists will create a stable black hole. I'm, uh, worried.


Ode to Autumn

Last week, as I was walking to work after my last class, I was struck with a sublime moment. A thick fog had settled at the tops of the evergreen trees that surround the campus, and the afternoon light made the trees appear lush and vibrant. A slight breeze tossed the dry leaves across the street, mixing the reds and yellows and oranges. The cool air, the stillness - I found myself walking in perfect weather. At the moment, I wasn't worried about school, or money, or life. I was immersed in the present.

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimmed their clammy cell.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,---
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

John Keats


The police station.

Today I went to the police station to get a criminal record check. Apparently, to receive a student visa for Slovenia, applicants need to exhibit no signs of criminality. Being my first time in that particular building, I was amazed at how calm and orderly the building is inside. I expected constantly ringing phones, haggard detectives getting statements from prostitutes and some seven-foot-tall man being carted off in cuffs, struggling with the attending officers.

I watch too many movies. There were three front desks, managed by friendly staff, and the occasional cop wandering around. I wanted cacophony, not this civilized pap.

Well, nonetheless, it was worth the $55. Our only concern is money at this point. Although we are currently doing okay financially, we do need to prove we have enough money in the coffers while we study there. That might be a problem. Mark this on your calendars: we are booking a flight for January 10th. So. Excited.



I submitted four poems, started an essay due on Monday, and tomorrow afternoon I will continue writing and studying. I'm also writing an article on The Parade of Lost Souls for the student paper.

Once I'm in school my blinders are definitely on. I only focus at the task at hand, and everything else ends up on the periphery. Now, I really need to call friends I've been neglecting.

I was yawning all through my last class and I could barely keep my eyes open as I was reading Freud on the bus. When I need to take time off, I do so with vigor. Like tonight. I'll be keeping a safe distance from my homework.

Over the weekend Lisa and I met Robin and Grace's new baby, Felix. He is small and cute and quiet. Well, somewhat quiet.

I'm falling asleep now.




French Post-Structuralist Showdown

Taking a quick study break. I've been reading so much lately I'm having trouble articulating my thoughts at the moment. Moving from Freud to Longinus to Gaiman then to a French textbook is like listening to four different musical genres at once and trying to distinguish one song from the other.

The other day I was writing an entry on how school has become really difficult (seeing as how I'm in upper-level courses) and I even considered dropping out. Sure, I'm behind on my readings - who isn't? On Monday everything changed. A woman in one of my lit classes quoted Bourdieu, and completely over-simplified his theory. She reduced his argument to "art appreciation is only for the bourgeois." God damn. No, everyone appreciates art. Bourdieu was pointing out that habitus is marked by what kind of art one consumed and how one discusses art. That's like saying only the bourgeois drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes or read magazines or play sports.

I despise this half-assed sociology that depicts the poor as pathetic, ignorant waifs wailing in the gutters for a penny. Poor folks look at art and talk about it. They engage with the rest of society and have voices and ideas.

So, yeah, I'm staying in school. I got the love back.

I need to try quitting smoking again. I have a slight cough and my esophagus feels numb. Also, playing football becomes a challenge, too. But you know what? What really bothers me? When non-smokers list off the reasons why I shouldn't smoke. They always sound so damn condescending.

Yes, I know - smoking causes cancer. I saw the fucking movies in high school too. Thanks anyway.

The thing is, addiction overrides logic.

On a more joyful note, I'll visiting my folks this Thanksgiving weekend.