Today (that is, Thursday), before I wrote the end of yesterday's entry (yeah I know) I did some other things. Let's see. I woke up at 11 to Ester recieving her package. No, I woke up first at 7 to Rebecca saying goodbye. But the second time I put on Ted Leo's album and let the glorious opening strains of "Biomusicology" wash over my room. What a good wake-up song. I thought about making a mixtape (it's like the Caroline episode in HighFi) but ended up working for part of the time in Es's room instead, because we thought the internet had stopped working (oh, it made sense at the time.) I borrowed Jess's, to notice that archives had reappeared and "what say you" grown big, before we realized that Rebecca had left the modem unplugged when she took her power strip. Oh yeah. A surprising package came from the Temporary Residence: only one jewel case but three CDs, by Sybarite, Halifax Pier, and HollAnd/Borthwick. Not that I know any of these artists or anything, but I'm looking forward to exploring. This is a good label to have as my friend.

I spent a rough three hours revising the history paper; probably more work than it needed, but it was worth it. I strengthened the argument the whole way through, completely reworked the last two or three pages by mostly just shifting sentences around from one paragraph to another, adding a minimum of new stuff and taking a lot out. Then went back to the beginning and took one of the threads out of the intro, which made it possible to condense down to one paragraph which preserved the bulk of the cool ideas but was rather more relevant. Ended up leaving one less than seamless transition, which I demarcated with a line break - hey, who says the flow has to be constant and you can't have sections. We listened to A(ster) and side one of B(ecca). We'll finish the backwards barncycle tomorrow. How appropriate.

With half an hour to spare, I headed to campus (sunset nice, but not as spectacular as yesterday's) to hand it in. Liza was waiting at Parrish circle to go to a movie with Hilary and Hunter. What the hey, I said. I'm free of academic commitments for at least a month, and nothing's waiting for me at home except mess and no food (and Rae, who might have left while I was away) - I'll go to a movie too. We went to see "Waking Life" at the Ritz at the Bourse. I didn't know a single thing about the movie going in, and (because of that?) I spilled my popcorn. A little bit. It was a really interesting film. All animated, but actually it was all shot live and then painted over (sort of nice symbolism given the movie's theme). The opening scene shows a tango group rehearsing a new tune, with enticing quasi-realism. The music was especially good, and as it turned out that group's music is featured throughout the film (the Tosca Tango Orchestra; I'll have to check them out.) I was worried at first that it was going to be way more academicky than I wanted to handle having just turned in my last paper, but it ended up a nice balance between intellectualism and emotion. The movie is essentially a series of scenes of people talking, passionately - usually in monologues - on a wide range of topics: reincarnation, free will, quantum physics, society, revenge, language, memory, guns, and especially dreams. Many of them are fairly academic, but others come off as normal people in everyday situations, just living their lives and talking about ideas that excite them. Settings flow and ebb and change freely from offices and classrooms to streetscapes, coffee bars, prisons, bedrooms, cinemas, nightclubs, gardens. Gradually a narrative starts to take shape - the protagonist is a holdover from one of the director's earlier films ("Dazed and Confused," funnily enough) who begins to realize that his life has become a dream from which he can only awake into another dream. But it's very much (blatantly) a film of ideas. There are too many ideas to really synthesize them, but the central thesis is tantalizing and invites hours of pondering and discussion, which is clearly the point. I guess now I'll have time for it.

Happily, I did get home before Rae left. In fact, her mother arrived almost immediately as I did, as I was surveying the sad state of affairs that had become Nelly. She had fallen again the previous night, off the roof, but was lying in considerably more pieces this time. I suspected, and upon examination confirmed, that someone had for whatever reason deliberately dismantled her. Sure enough, the plastic ties that bind her legs to her body had been severed. There was nothing to do but carry her remains inside. Rae and I had discussed reconstituting her in some new form that would perhaps incorporate new materials and give her a second life as some slightly altered sort of statuary. But there was no time. I installed a lock on her porch door, and helped her look for eyeliner, and then she left. I wrote here, and made a CD for Martha, and a drippy quesadilla for myself, fielded a call from Tallahassee, and went downstairs to watch Pulp Fiction on the big screen with Renee and Ester. It's good. You all know that. Jaime came and Ester left. A lot of important things happen in the movies while/because someone is in the bathroom. It's very self-cognizant. It's entertaining. Ester wanted to do shots whenever somebody got killed, but she neglected to get the vodka. There's water in the kitchen. I put a drawer under my bed. It's late, and I have a lot to do tomorrow and the next day.

it was a shotgun wedding and the old folks wished them well
it was clear that Pierre did truly love the mademoiselle