ithaca
I spent the weekend in Ithaca visiting my Cornell-bound boyfriend while he was checking out the campus. The campus was nice over the weekend but in general has this sort of blustery Hogwarts-like feel to it.
We decided to go to a random slam poetry reading on campus since that was the only activity going on that night that we knew of — I hadn’t been to one of those since college. Turns out, it was a super feministy queer poetry reading — one of the kinds I like best! But I was really nervous that Mark’s mom was there also since it didn’t really seem to be up her alley. But it was awesome. The group was called Saltlines and I have found a new favorite poet in Andrea Gibson (if partially for the fact that her haircut reminds me of Tegan and Sara).
If being around the main campuses of Cornell and NYU teach me anything, it’s that I have a continual disdain for college undergraduates.
That’s really the only thing that is new lately — that and our ongoing search for a summer subletter ($675/mo, May-August, Brooklyn, anyone?), my lack of enthusiasm for this semester (I simultaneously bombed the midterm for one class and got the highest grade on the midterm for my other class), the ebb and flow of work, of lunchtimes. I’m importing my AOL emails into my gmail account for consolidation and all of these emails from 2004 and beyond came sailing into my inbox, mostly from old ex boyfriends I haven’t talked to in years. I still can’t get over how impossibly dramatic my relationship with Arlin was back in the day, and how passive aggressive those damned emails and phone calls were. I would like to think I have matured to the point where I just stop that kind of bullshit in the face now. It is probably less of a maturity and more of a raging impatience and a need to get to the fucking point because the Internet has killed any semblance of an attention span I might have cultivated. I sometimes get a nostalgia for high school, the spans of life between the hours of studying and life stressing, where I honed a deep passion for life and emotions and all its darkly beautiful little possibilities, where depression wasn’t a stranger and in a way was a little comforting in its regularity, in the bits of poetry that it caused me to spit out on the back of post-its and store receipts. I had a little bit of a flashback of those times and how they all felt, but at age twentythree I am glad I don’t harbor that same degree of self indulgence anymore. Which is not to say, of course, that I am self-indulgence-free. I think though, it’s not that the passion for life has dissipated so much that it has hardened around the curves of reality a little more.
Anyway, here are some pictures of food I ate these last couple of months.
most of these are home made. the first one is a pear tart that john and i made FROM SCRATCH. i molested that crust with love. the third one is a beef stew that john made, and the fourth is one of many batches of spaghetti sauce that i make. the last one is a vegetable lasagna that we sort of improvised for want of adding more veggies to our diet.
also, if any of my friends are reading this, i’ve decided that instead of drawing you guys comics for your birthdays this year (save the ones i havent had a chance to draw comics for yet), i will write you songs this year instead. it is going to be EPIC.