I can't think of a title
Apr. 23rd, 2003 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetI discovered Monday night that "Fright Night" is nowhere near as much fun as I remember thinking it was in 1987.
I think someday I will have a "bad vampire movies from the 80s" party. Or I could have an "80s vampire movies with people named Sarandon in them" night. We shall see.
A friend of mine who teaches Latin at our old high school (speaking of the 80s) says he's tempted to use my Tacitean pastiche on current affairs (the one I posted here yesterday) as the basis for a reading-comprehension exercise. I warned him to double-check the Latin first. He may also want to create some sort of plausible deniability or at least arrange an escape route, since he's in a town where, to give an entirely unrelated example, social options(*) consist almost entirely of fundamentalist-church-sponsored country line dances.(**) I can hear the parents complaining even now.
So, alas, crushing loneliness today (although even as I type this, David Bowie is assuring me that I am not alone, so that's comforting). J. went down to Providence before I got up this morning(***) and is presenting a paper at a conference there tomorrow, so I won't see her until tomorrow night, or possibly later, if she decides to stay for the rest of the conference.
Time to drown my codependent sorrows in the HOLLIS catalog. Or ALEPH or SPECTRE or whatever it's called. Then off to some cafe or other for some quality time with Cornelius T.
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(*) Well, when I lived there, there was also, I understand, the option of getting drunk and going out into the woods with guns to test bullet-proof vests, but I was never invited.
(**) Obviously only the ones that approve of dancing.
(***) Considerably more before I got up than anticipated, since I ignored my alarm.
I think someday I will have a "bad vampire movies from the 80s" party. Or I could have an "80s vampire movies with people named Sarandon in them" night. We shall see.
A friend of mine who teaches Latin at our old high school (speaking of the 80s) says he's tempted to use my Tacitean pastiche on current affairs (the one I posted here yesterday) as the basis for a reading-comprehension exercise. I warned him to double-check the Latin first. He may also want to create some sort of plausible deniability or at least arrange an escape route, since he's in a town where, to give an entirely unrelated example, social options(*) consist almost entirely of fundamentalist-church-sponsored country line dances.(**) I can hear the parents complaining even now.
So, alas, crushing loneliness today (although even as I type this, David Bowie is assuring me that I am not alone, so that's comforting). J. went down to Providence before I got up this morning(***) and is presenting a paper at a conference there tomorrow, so I won't see her until tomorrow night, or possibly later, if she decides to stay for the rest of the conference.
Time to drown my codependent sorrows in the HOLLIS catalog. Or ALEPH or SPECTRE or whatever it's called. Then off to some cafe or other for some quality time with Cornelius T.
-----
(*) Well, when I lived there, there was also, I understand, the option of getting drunk and going out into the woods with guns to test bullet-proof vests, but I was never invited.
(**) Obviously only the ones that approve of dancing.
(***) Considerably more before I got up than anticipated, since I ignored my alarm.
