April 2011
26 posts
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My ability to turn good news into anxiety is rivaled only by my ability to turn...
– Tina Fey, Bossypants
(Me too, Tina, me too.)
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The Best Apartment in Montreal
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Maira Kalman
I lost my copy of The Elements of Style last summer, and I finally picked up an updated version back in January. Surprisingly, it was an illustrated version by Maira Kalman. First of all, this edition greeted me with a “hello” on the back of the cover, so yeah, sold. Also, E.B. White’s classic examples/rules are now accompanied with pictures.
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Sick in bed, yo.
(Sleeping like this.)
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Countdown to a study break:
I’m done done done with uni, but here you go anyways. I’m eating candy because I’m fasting for Greek Easter (no animal products + no oil = nothing, really). But, candy is fine? Some “cleanse.” I’ll be writing again once I have my brain back — I’m always thinking about food.
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Midnight Jams
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Oh, the stuff you find on your phone…
My phone broke, so I’m just clearing out all the photos. I hope there’s better reception up there, little phone.
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Samia and some other lovely ladies are having a vintageclothing/taxidermy/foodandbeer sale. (Samia is probably lugging around clothing from the West Island to the Mile End AS WE SPEAK.) I’ll be around, so come say hi! And come pick up some great stuff, or just gorge on cupcakes with me in a quiet corner!
Cash only.
Tomorrow (10 AM - 7 PM).
5445 de Gaspé (apt 407).
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“On the jukebox was the haunting voice of Frank Sinatra singing “…When I was seventeen, it was a very good year.” Each successive stanza advanced the narrator by a decade, causing me to reflect on something I could not possibly reflect on: my future. The next song was the Beatles’ “Norwegian Wood,” and its modal tones underscored the moody darkness. I...
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GET BACK TO STUDYING IN
BYE!
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When I was five, I think, my grandmother and I got lost. We were walking around a neighbourhood and we took a wrong turn. I was actually scared. I remember spotting a willow tree on the corner while my grandmother tried to figure out where we were. I still walk by it on my way home from the metro. Sometimes, if the wind hits the willow just right, I stop and remember how much my stomach hurt...
Slowdown for the next 8 days...
But who’s counting?
Last 8 days of university.
Until then…
Drowning in work.
[On a side note, I need to take naming documents seriously: “OverviewoftheENTIREcourse” and “IwassupposedtoPRESENTanoralonthis”. There, that’s better.]
And trying to read minds?
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We have this:
And this:
Even this:
So why not this?
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Allen Ginsberg has been busy
taking pictures for the last 30 minutes
of Amiri...
– Joanne Kyger’s poem “July ‘92 at Naropa” (via tomakepoesis)