Bloglet, the gentleman's mock turtle soup -- Moss made it sweeter than myrrh ash and dhoup
The slacker escaped again. It's not fair.
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(1)
01:06:23 PM,Thursday 10 May 2001
ARRRGH!
Ok, so the chorus is doing the Actus Tragicus, and they thought it would be nifty to have an orchestra. So Mr. Pesic gives me the music, and it's a piece of cake. Simple and beautiful -- except for _one_ _page_, which is the most horrific (still beautiful), finger-twisting, head-bashing 50 measures of hell I've ever seen. That was on Friday. I've spent at least two hours every day since then cramming the bastard into my brain, getting up early, carrying my recorder around everywhere, bringing it to seminar and fingering it under the table, taking just about every spare interval to learn this evil, vicious solo. Today I discover that the choir director chick doesn't _like_ the version in Bb, and wants to do it in F. Which means I have until next Tuesday night to learn the SAME FREAKING SOLO with utterly different fingerings on the _alto_ recorder. HOW?! HOW?! ARRRRGH! oh, and they decided to scrap the orchestra, and all the other beautiful simple parts, and only let me play on that one bit, so if I cream it, I'm doomed. ...save me...
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11:12:25 PM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
tenors use the most hair oil.
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06:32:53 PM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
it makes me understand why people used to get themselves a handful of leeches when they were feeling blue. Here I was, grumbling and pouting and kicking up a fuss about nothing at all -- I go in to get bled, and the phlebotomist is from Missoula! Well, Rock Creek, really, but she went to U of M. And my notoriously peevish veins got stuck like a dream, and gave forth their bounty in 4 minutes flat. Alalalae! Now I'm happy, because I wasn't turned away with a useless half-bag, and I'm not even dizzy. And the chick who interviewed me had spent a summer in Darby! Everything is better with Montana folk around.
Let the record stand, though, that I dislike loud, fluffly, metal, transverse flutes. Garrrumph.
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(1)
04:09:07 PM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
Yes, I have the full 14 minutes. No, you don't want to hear it.
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(1)
02:46:12 AM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
Perhaps you can get yourself some new pots, Katherine.
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(1)
01:03:17 AM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
Ay, me. Well, that's about the most unappetizing thing I've ever read, yeurgh, but 'pon further reflection... I dunno, I think it's rather worthy of its subject, more than lots of other dignified huffling poems of Death and Grandeur and all. When you stare something in the face, and you've got a metaphor better than pansies and dew... hm. But don't read it before lunch. Incidentally, Samuel Pepys called her 'mad, conceited and ridiculous', and that's a better cut than plenty others have won for themselves.
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(1)
12:43:19 AM,Wednesday 9 May 2001
The best scent for breath to have: Gjetost
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(6)
04:47:41 PM,Tuesday 8 May 2001
This. Is. Sickening. _
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(3)
01:07:29 AM,Tuesday 8 May 2001
Besides being Junior year program authors, what do these 15 unfortunate chaps have in common?
Newton
Dedekind
Kant
Leibniz
Pascal
Smith
Swift (maybe)
Hume
Locke
Galileo
Austen
Hobbes
Descartes
Huygens
Spinoza
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(12)
03:07:31 AM,Monday 7 May 2001
If you want my gravy, pepper my ragout...
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11:59:41 PM,Sunday 6 May 2001
Huzzah!_
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(1)
06:38:44 PM,Sunday 6 May 2001
happy birthday, Progenitor!
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03:19:23 PM,Sunday 6 May 2001
KEFALH KE
THE STAR RUBY
Facing East, in the centre, draw deep deep deep thy breath, closing thy mouth with thy right forefinger prest against thy lower lip. Then dashing down the hand with a great sweep back and out, expelling forcibly thy breath, cry: APO PANTOS KAKODAIMONOS .
With the same forefinger touch thy forehead, and say SOI , thy member, and say W FALLE , thy right shoulder, and say ISCUROS , thy left shoulder, and say EUCARISTOS ; then clasp thine hands, locking the fingers, and cry IAW .
Advance to the East. Imagine strongly a Pentagram, aright, in thy forehead. Drawing the hands to the eyes, fling it forth, making the sign of Horus, and roar CAOS . Retire thine hand in the sign of Hoor pa kraat.
Go round to the North and repeat; but scream BABALON .
Go round to the West and repeat; but say ERWS .
Go round to the South and repeat; but bellow YUCH .
Completing the circle widdershins, retire to the centre, and raise thy voice in the Paian, with these words IO PAN with the signs of N.O.C.
Extend the arms in the form of a Tau, and say low but clear: PRO MOU IUGGES OPISW MOU TELETARCAI EPI DEXIA SUNOCES EPARISTERA DAIMONES FLEGEI GAR PERI MOU O ASTHR TWN PENTE KAI EN THI STHLHI O ASTHR TWN EX ESTHKE.
Repeat the Cross Qabalistic, as above, and end as thou didst begin.
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09:40:28 PM,Saturday 5 May 2001
"(some say the crazy, she never washed off)."
@#&#, Remi, YOU RULE!
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02:13:12 AM,Saturday 5 May 2001
Knock, knock.
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(4)
11:49:31 PM,Friday 4 May 2001
OurLysistrata can beat up theirLysistrata.
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(2)
11:07:28 PM,Friday 4 May 2001
Holy #*& of #@^*#! There's THREE INCHES OF SNOW on the ground!
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(4)
08:16:15 PM,Friday 4 May 2001
Junior year is finally starting to wear me down.
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(5)
12:12:02 AM,Friday 4 May 2001
'Spot run is an "objective infinitive." Now we're getting somewhere. An infinitive is an uninflected verb form commonly beginning with to, as in to run. In an objective infinitive (and doesn't that sound like something you could get Unitarians to pray to?), the noun is modified by the infinitive, and the two parts together--in this case Spot run -- are the direct object of the predicate, see.'
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10:39:42 AM,Thursday 3 May 2001