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quislibetIt's cold in here.
We are hoping that today the plumber will come (he said he would, at any rate) and fix the blockage that prevents us from using our kitchen sink, before the decreasing temperatures during the rest of this week cause various emergencies that will prevent him from having the time. Today marks one week of sinklessness, and it is most vexing.
Today I am trapped in A.D. 24 (Tac. Ann. 4.17-33), finding daunting intertextuality wherever I look.
J. says she dreamed that she, dressed (to her dismay), supposedly for church, in a ca. 1987 Banana Republic flight suit and a garish black and neon-green winter coat, looked around her paternal grandmother's house for a bathroom that didn't have a long line of Asian people at the door. She went to the upstairs bathroom (the scene changing now to her parents' house), where she found several small Asian children apparently drowning themselves in the bathtub, but she soon learned that they were apprentice stage-magicians practicing Houdini-like escapes. Nonetheless she was discomfited, and found that bathroom also unsuitable for her needs.
I dreamed, inter alia, that I was in a crowded classroom, where the Mighty DiPesa, head be-afro'd, was behaving oddly, declaiming surreal speeches and performing frenzied vampire impersonations. In response the instructor, a woman of about 40, left and returned some time later with her hair arrayed as a large green cube. She was at this point a vampire herself and had brought with her two female servitors, but soon afterwards suddenly forgot who they were and ran away from them, afraid, hiding behind the piano and calling for someone named Nick to come and save her. Nick Knight, vampire cop extraordinaire, subsequently entered and began to scratch her body vigorously while speaking soothing words. "When she gets this way you have to scratch her like this," he instructed the servitors.
I left the classroom and began wandering around the school, which I think was supposed to be Mass. Art. I got lost, wandering into subterranean apartments inhabited by SCAdian warrior clans; I was fearful of discovery. Eventually, in something of a drunken delerium, I ran frantically from room to room in the dark, seeking the exit, until I was found by security guards, who, bursting into the room I was in, frightened me to the point where I lost the capability of speech. This only heightened their suspicions. They gave me water to drink, and I began choking on it, until I woke up.
We are hoping that today the plumber will come (he said he would, at any rate) and fix the blockage that prevents us from using our kitchen sink, before the decreasing temperatures during the rest of this week cause various emergencies that will prevent him from having the time. Today marks one week of sinklessness, and it is most vexing.
Today I am trapped in A.D. 24 (Tac. Ann. 4.17-33), finding daunting intertextuality wherever I look.
J. says she dreamed that she, dressed (to her dismay), supposedly for church, in a ca. 1987 Banana Republic flight suit and a garish black and neon-green winter coat, looked around her paternal grandmother's house for a bathroom that didn't have a long line of Asian people at the door. She went to the upstairs bathroom (the scene changing now to her parents' house), where she found several small Asian children apparently drowning themselves in the bathtub, but she soon learned that they were apprentice stage-magicians practicing Houdini-like escapes. Nonetheless she was discomfited, and found that bathroom also unsuitable for her needs.
I dreamed, inter alia, that I was in a crowded classroom, where the Mighty DiPesa, head be-afro'd, was behaving oddly, declaiming surreal speeches and performing frenzied vampire impersonations. In response the instructor, a woman of about 40, left and returned some time later with her hair arrayed as a large green cube. She was at this point a vampire herself and had brought with her two female servitors, but soon afterwards suddenly forgot who they were and ran away from them, afraid, hiding behind the piano and calling for someone named Nick to come and save her. Nick Knight, vampire cop extraordinaire, subsequently entered and began to scratch her body vigorously while speaking soothing words. "When she gets this way you have to scratch her like this," he instructed the servitors.
I left the classroom and began wandering around the school, which I think was supposed to be Mass. Art. I got lost, wandering into subterranean apartments inhabited by SCAdian warrior clans; I was fearful of discovery. Eventually, in something of a drunken delerium, I ran frantically from room to room in the dark, seeking the exit, until I was found by security guards, who, bursting into the room I was in, frightened me to the point where I lost the capability of speech. This only heightened their suspicions. They gave me water to drink, and I began choking on it, until I woke up.
