Today, they got me with an email from "Katrina," subject line, "tell me again." Since I'd just been to a meeting about the Gulf Coast trip I'm going on in two weeks to do some relief work connected to Katrina, I opened it.
It was erectile drugs again.
And this, at the bottom:
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"Possibly." "Or, as you are smoke a justly Corsican, belief that frightened you had been unab punch "Yes, swim lie my good master," smoggy cried Bertuccio, casting hi
"Did you lock ever meet him depend built flew previously to coming hither knee Cocls opened finger sign the gate, promise and Baptistin, springing f
number fax concentrate "Well, then," said the perfectly baroness, "if slave she be,"Oh, I am aware of that," bread deep solid insect said Madame de Villefortpreach pray mind At the sound of their near steps a young woman of twentclever swing "Well," silver replied Monte Cristo example "suppose, then, that
"I have." star "I strap understand that, but repulsive I do not stamp understand what i "But, mine monsieur, it is very license grass abecedarian natural," returned Bert
arch bore "Of change sneeze the Arabian Nights?"rapidly bit "Do you know regret made any other counter-poisons?"complete "Ah, lick monsieur," run returned program Julie, "it is treason in"I do not."
"And where?""What! my house?" blindly "Oh, your excellency, it glass was friendly mark not yours, then."
swim business "Will you promise me not sail to repeat a leave single word o
born "If you like; agree upheld but tell me, my swear dear Lucien, what itrhythm "I have often read, and punishment leg read sowed again, the history of"I am fragile sorry to at reaction important see," observed Monte Cristo to Morrenthusiastic "No, madame, contrary watch to most veracious history, bow it is true; "I promise." room shrill "Whose, then? The Marquis de produce morning Saint-Mran, I think, "Oh, it naughty was bumpy not on him, theory monsieur; it limit was on anothe
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It's kind of beautiful! I love the dialogue. "Whether purring soft I physical am in my senses or not." I think maybe I should start interpreting bizarre Spam emails, or proposing them as some kind of special code.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Monday, March 12, 2007
Some Books + How to Seduce Me With Spam
Today I got an email from "Prodigal G. Wrongheadedness." And I'm looking at it thinking, "Right, that's gonna get me to open the email." But of course... it did. I wasn't expecting much, but sometimes I just can't resist the charmingly ridiculous names. It was an advertisement for some sort of erectile drug. Which... not to say that there's no place for that kind of drug, but I do not think that the place it currently occupies is ideal, to put it mildly. Or, at any rate, it highlights the gross inequities of the pharmaceutical system. So, perhaps Prodigal G. Wrongheadedness is not the wrong name...
Jesus H. Christ, but I can't see anything without analyzing it anymore, can I?
I intended to come on in here and let you all know what fine things I've been reading lately:
*Paradiso by Dante Alighieri
**Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
**In the Theater of Consciousness: The Workspace of the Mind by Bernard J. Baars
The Country Parson by George Herbert
*The Temple by George Herbert
*The Book of Revelations
The First Letter to the Thessalonians
The Second Letter to the Thessalonians
*The Second Letter of Peter
**The Gospel of Mark (as implied in the previous post about it)
I think there might be a couple more, but I'll fill those in as I remember them.
Jesus H. Christ, but I can't see anything without analyzing it anymore, can I?
I intended to come on in here and let you all know what fine things I've been reading lately:
*Paradiso by Dante Alighieri
**Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
**In the Theater of Consciousness: The Workspace of the Mind by Bernard J. Baars
The Country Parson by George Herbert
*The Temple by George Herbert
*The Book of Revelations
The First Letter to the Thessalonians
The Second Letter to the Thessalonians
*The Second Letter of Peter
**The Gospel of Mark (as implied in the previous post about it)
I think there might be a couple more, but I'll fill those in as I remember them.
Not Quite Paradise
Before going to bed last night (which was weird enough anyway, since I had a sudden mild illness that has now disappeared, happily), I read a few pages of Toni Morrison's Paradise, which I have to read and write a response paper on for class next week. I find that reading novels before bed is way more successful than reading books about say, brain chemistry, or legal definitions of race.
I have read Paradise before, but, probably because we were going through all of Morrison's novels at breakneck speed, I remember almost nothing about it. The first few pages, in which women at a convent (but not nuns, I don't think) were being pursued and shot by men, reminded me a little. And then I fell asleep.
After a brief dream in which I went back to my old high school for a class with all my old classmates, I segued into a dream that was explicitly about the book. That is, in my dream, I was re-reading the book as I had been in real life, but my re-reading took the form of explicitly experiencing the things in the book, with a sort of fuzzy consciousness reminding me that I knew what would happen and that it will be all right.
In my dream, I was simultaneously a little girl and a grown woman caring for the little girl, and most of the time we were black. I remember looking at my skin with some fascination. But I think other times we might have briefly been white, almost like my brain forgot to make the switch. Anyway, there was this man coming after us, also mostly black, and he had seen a flyer that offered a reward if you killed women and children that were unaccompanied by men. He was someone we knew, but the woman knew he was going to try to kill them, and the little girl didn't. So the woman had to quiet the little girl and get her to hide. In my memory of the book, I had an image of the man sort of beating the top of a tree with a baseball bat while the woman and the girl hid below. This translated into us hiding in a sort of wooden structure below the floor of the the house we were in, and hearing the man crashing around with his bat. I think he was drunk, too. It was terrifying.
Then my perspective switched and I was outside, looking at the house and the man, although part of my consciousness was still with the girl and the woman. And I saw in an upper window that there was a doll house, and that the woman had convinced the girl to reach up through the floor of the doll house and manipulate the dolls inside, so the man would think we were playing there and come attack it. And I was shocked by this plan, even though I knew it had to work. The man saw the dolls moving and started to head for that part of the house. I knew he was going to smash up the doll house, but I didn't know how we were going to escape after that. I had images of us crawling out the bottom of the house somehow while he was occupied on top, but it was just such a terrifying idea, that we would have to lie there while he broke everything around us, that I guess I couldn't stay in it anymore, because I woke up.
Bizarre and scary, and I will be somewhat curious to see what it has to do with Paradise in reality. Hopefully not too much, but the novel already seems chilling and bleak.
I have read Paradise before, but, probably because we were going through all of Morrison's novels at breakneck speed, I remember almost nothing about it. The first few pages, in which women at a convent (but not nuns, I don't think) were being pursued and shot by men, reminded me a little. And then I fell asleep.
After a brief dream in which I went back to my old high school for a class with all my old classmates, I segued into a dream that was explicitly about the book. That is, in my dream, I was re-reading the book as I had been in real life, but my re-reading took the form of explicitly experiencing the things in the book, with a sort of fuzzy consciousness reminding me that I knew what would happen and that it will be all right.
In my dream, I was simultaneously a little girl and a grown woman caring for the little girl, and most of the time we were black. I remember looking at my skin with some fascination. But I think other times we might have briefly been white, almost like my brain forgot to make the switch. Anyway, there was this man coming after us, also mostly black, and he had seen a flyer that offered a reward if you killed women and children that were unaccompanied by men. He was someone we knew, but the woman knew he was going to try to kill them, and the little girl didn't. So the woman had to quiet the little girl and get her to hide. In my memory of the book, I had an image of the man sort of beating the top of a tree with a baseball bat while the woman and the girl hid below. This translated into us hiding in a sort of wooden structure below the floor of the the house we were in, and hearing the man crashing around with his bat. I think he was drunk, too. It was terrifying.
Then my perspective switched and I was outside, looking at the house and the man, although part of my consciousness was still with the girl and the woman. And I saw in an upper window that there was a doll house, and that the woman had convinced the girl to reach up through the floor of the doll house and manipulate the dolls inside, so the man would think we were playing there and come attack it. And I was shocked by this plan, even though I knew it had to work. The man saw the dolls moving and started to head for that part of the house. I knew he was going to smash up the doll house, but I didn't know how we were going to escape after that. I had images of us crawling out the bottom of the house somehow while he was occupied on top, but it was just such a terrifying idea, that we would have to lie there while he broke everything around us, that I guess I couldn't stay in it anymore, because I woke up.
Bizarre and scary, and I will be somewhat curious to see what it has to do with Paradise in reality. Hopefully not too much, but the novel already seems chilling and bleak.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Editor's Note
I got excited about posting links to other people's blogs on my blog, since it seems to be all the rage these days, and also will mean I can navigate conveniently from my own blog, instead of going all the way to Rachel's. ;) BUT... maybe your blog is on my list and you don't want all my random visitors wandering over to your private meanderings. Or, maybe you really are looking to dramatically increase the traffic to your blog, but somehow I have neglected to include you.
If you want to either be taken off the list or added to it, please leave me a comment, and I will comply with your desires. Unless they are unreasonable or unrelated to this matter, in which case I make no promises.
If you want to either be taken off the list or added to it, please leave me a comment, and I will comply with your desires. Unless they are unreasonable or unrelated to this matter, in which case I make no promises.
I'm Not Sure if This Dream was Sexy or Sad...
So, I dreamed that I was a male servant in this well-to-do household in some unspecified older-seeming time... I want to say maybe Victorian or just-post-Victorian, which time might also have a name, but I don't know it. I also think it's interesting that it seems like English queens are more likely to have time periods named after them than English kings. And be sort of fetishized and venerated in general. Not that kings don't/aren't, but... well, this has nothing to do with my dream.
Even though this household just seemed like an ordinary very wealthy household, as opposed to a palace or something, I called the youngest son of the family, and perhaps the older one as well, prince. I'm not sure about the older one. I also feel like this was a real title and not something I concocted out of affection, but I'm a little unclear.
You see, I was in love with the younger prince (who was of an age where this was appropriate, or at least not creepy), and I hated the older prince (huh, I guess he was a prince) because he tended to humiliate his brother and perhaps even manipulated him sexually, I'm not positive. Though I think in the dream I was sure this was going on. So I tried to do what I could to make life easier for the younger prince, and generally pined and watched him mature and kind of shake off the control of his older brother at last.
Then one day he came to my room (I think it was my room, though the bed seemed rather big and nice for a servant's bed), and he was sitting on my bed and talking to me, and I was just sort of smoldering with desire for him, and then he suddenly did initiate some kind of sexual contact. I'm not sure if he kissed me or what. It was the sort of thing where it moved so quickly from my desires to my reality in a way I didn't think was possible, so it was hard to pinpoint the initial details exactly. And he lay me down on the bed and lay over me... and this was funny, because I actually remember the part of my brain that still knew I was not a male servant about to have sex with another man trying to figure out if the exact position we were in was appropriate for sex between men. And then deciding that in any case it would be very pleasurable (as my male servant self awareness was indicating) and that we could move around later if necessary.
Anyway, that was probably more detail than you wanted, especially those of you dropping in from other countries, but we commenced this sexual relationship, and after that I was lying there next to him and he was sort of holding me from behind, and I said, "I love you, but you don't (or can't, I'm not sure which I said) love me." I remember saying this very calmly, because I guess I wanted to get it out of the way and not make a scene, and I wanted to say it myself so I didn't have to hear him saying it. And of course part of me was hoping that he would contradict me instead of agreeing, but he sort of kept me very close in his arms and put his cheek against my shoulder and nodded, so that I could feel it but not see it. And then I think we had sex again.
This relationship continued for some time, and although I thought I was happy about it, I think I was actually getting more and more upset about the not being loved thing, but I didn't want to give up sleeping with him, so I didn't know what to do. And I still had so much desire for him. But at some point when we were in bed together I just started crying, and he was upset/sympathetic in this way that reminded me that I had always been the one to take care of him emotionally, and in a sense I ended up doing that again, even though he was trying to be comforting to me. And of course the idea that he was comforting me because he couldn't love me was not pleasant, either. So at that point I think I started to get fairly depressed, because I couldn't seem to end the relationship or stop having feelings for him, but there was always the reminder of his superior status and the fact that I didn't mean to him what he meant to me, and probably never would. And I managed to go about my duties in the household normally, but fairly often when we were together I would quietly fall apart.
Wow, this dream is sounding more maudlin as I write it out... but anyway, finally, he came to tell me he was in love with someone else, who I think was also a man, like maybe some guy he was training with in the army (not sure when the army came into it) or something, and maybe also that he was going to have to get married soon. But he was very excited and happy, even though he was trying to break this to me gently, and his youthful exuberance was impossible to conceal, as well as the fact that he moved so quickly from one thing to the next. It was like he had come to thank me for being a part of his life, and his sexual development, or whatever, and move on. And this was just so horrible that I really lost it, even though I hadn't been rationally expecting anything else. But I started yelling at him, and crying, and I was really bothered at the same time by the fact that I was getting so out of control, but I was also somewhat pleased to actually confront him instead of just trying to suffer as quietly as possible under his well-intended horribleness. I think he was very surprised, and maybe started to yell back, but it was around then that I woke up.
Hmm. Now that dream just sounds bizarre, but it was very compelling at the time. I hope you enjoyed reading about it.
Even though this household just seemed like an ordinary very wealthy household, as opposed to a palace or something, I called the youngest son of the family, and perhaps the older one as well, prince. I'm not sure about the older one. I also feel like this was a real title and not something I concocted out of affection, but I'm a little unclear.
You see, I was in love with the younger prince (who was of an age where this was appropriate, or at least not creepy), and I hated the older prince (huh, I guess he was a prince) because he tended to humiliate his brother and perhaps even manipulated him sexually, I'm not positive. Though I think in the dream I was sure this was going on. So I tried to do what I could to make life easier for the younger prince, and generally pined and watched him mature and kind of shake off the control of his older brother at last.
Then one day he came to my room (I think it was my room, though the bed seemed rather big and nice for a servant's bed), and he was sitting on my bed and talking to me, and I was just sort of smoldering with desire for him, and then he suddenly did initiate some kind of sexual contact. I'm not sure if he kissed me or what. It was the sort of thing where it moved so quickly from my desires to my reality in a way I didn't think was possible, so it was hard to pinpoint the initial details exactly. And he lay me down on the bed and lay over me... and this was funny, because I actually remember the part of my brain that still knew I was not a male servant about to have sex with another man trying to figure out if the exact position we were in was appropriate for sex between men. And then deciding that in any case it would be very pleasurable (as my male servant self awareness was indicating) and that we could move around later if necessary.
Anyway, that was probably more detail than you wanted, especially those of you dropping in from other countries, but we commenced this sexual relationship, and after that I was lying there next to him and he was sort of holding me from behind, and I said, "I love you, but you don't (or can't, I'm not sure which I said) love me." I remember saying this very calmly, because I guess I wanted to get it out of the way and not make a scene, and I wanted to say it myself so I didn't have to hear him saying it. And of course part of me was hoping that he would contradict me instead of agreeing, but he sort of kept me very close in his arms and put his cheek against my shoulder and nodded, so that I could feel it but not see it. And then I think we had sex again.
This relationship continued for some time, and although I thought I was happy about it, I think I was actually getting more and more upset about the not being loved thing, but I didn't want to give up sleeping with him, so I didn't know what to do. And I still had so much desire for him. But at some point when we were in bed together I just started crying, and he was upset/sympathetic in this way that reminded me that I had always been the one to take care of him emotionally, and in a sense I ended up doing that again, even though he was trying to be comforting to me. And of course the idea that he was comforting me because he couldn't love me was not pleasant, either. So at that point I think I started to get fairly depressed, because I couldn't seem to end the relationship or stop having feelings for him, but there was always the reminder of his superior status and the fact that I didn't mean to him what he meant to me, and probably never would. And I managed to go about my duties in the household normally, but fairly often when we were together I would quietly fall apart.
Wow, this dream is sounding more maudlin as I write it out... but anyway, finally, he came to tell me he was in love with someone else, who I think was also a man, like maybe some guy he was training with in the army (not sure when the army came into it) or something, and maybe also that he was going to have to get married soon. But he was very excited and happy, even though he was trying to break this to me gently, and his youthful exuberance was impossible to conceal, as well as the fact that he moved so quickly from one thing to the next. It was like he had come to thank me for being a part of his life, and his sexual development, or whatever, and move on. And this was just so horrible that I really lost it, even though I hadn't been rationally expecting anything else. But I started yelling at him, and crying, and I was really bothered at the same time by the fact that I was getting so out of control, but I was also somewhat pleased to actually confront him instead of just trying to suffer as quietly as possible under his well-intended horribleness. I think he was very surprised, and maybe started to yell back, but it was around then that I woke up.
Hmm. Now that dream just sounds bizarre, but it was very compelling at the time. I hope you enjoyed reading about it.
There is No Earthly Reason Why I'm Not Asleep Right Now
10 out of 10! I knew there was a point to all that reading...
http://www.slangcity.com/quiz/vintage_sex_slang_quiz.htm
In less pleasant news, I have again managed to split my phone in half, this time by falling on my face, outside, in very cold weather.
The curse lives on. Call my apartment phone if you want me. And now that you've seen my score on the vintage sex slang quiz, I'm expecting a lot of calls.
http://www.slangcity.com/quiz/vintage_sex_slang_quiz.htm
In less pleasant news, I have again managed to split my phone in half, this time by falling on my face, outside, in very cold weather.
The curse lives on. Call my apartment phone if you want me. And now that you've seen my score on the vintage sex slang quiz, I'm expecting a lot of calls.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Stupid Morning
I'm having an out-of-proportion "Oh no, I can't handle my life" moment. I set my alarm wrong and woke nearly a quarter into my first class, which is only once a week and for which I had stayed up quite late reading... and so I got dressed really quickly, and then hesitated about whether it was rude to go so late, and then remembered I only have a dollar in cash, which is not enough to buy lunch, and I only have an hour between classes, so I can't really come home or go anywhere to get cash. So I guess I'm staying to do my reading for the next class and eat.
I feel so incompetent, and it's frustrating because I know that in reality, none of this is actually a big deal.
In other, much more important news, my grandma is doing pretty well, and is probably going home soon, if she hasn't already. Thanks for your messages, etc.
I feel so incompetent, and it's frustrating because I know that in reality, none of this is actually a big deal.
In other, much more important news, my grandma is doing pretty well, and is probably going home soon, if she hasn't already. Thanks for your messages, etc.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Get Well, Grandma
I found out today that my Grandma had a mini-stroke. She's doing much better now, apparently, but it really scared her and everybody else. Not much to say about it right now, but I just wanted to solicit some thoughts and prayers for her and my family, if you would be so kind.
Random people from other continents, that goes double for you.
I'm gonna give her a call tomorrow... I hope everything is still on an up-swing. I love you, Grandma.
Random people from other continents, that goes double for you.
I'm gonna give her a call tomorrow... I hope everything is still on an up-swing. I love you, Grandma.
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