| (no subject) |
[Jul. 1st, 2006|11:26 am] |
I'm moving to Japan.
I was accepted as a late addition to the JET program -- so late that I actually missed the orientation. I will be leaving at the end of July, although I don't know a specific date, what level english I'll be teaching, or where I'll be placed, just yet. I'm going to try to head out to Louisville for at least a week before I leave, although things are kind of crazy here just now. |
|
|
| Slach lanu |
[Jan. 6th, 2006|01:35 am] |
A preface, to anyone who reads this: I'm going to be somewhere between sporadic and non-existent in levels of contact over the next fuck-knows-how-long. I may be disappearing from LA for a bit, depending on how work goes. If I get my druthers, then I may just be driving off aimlessly for a month or so.
( Why? ) |
|
|
| Healing, part one |
[Dec. 11th, 2005|10:11 pm] |
Frustration breeds in me all manner of wicked thoughts.
Like shredding someone's eye with a carrot peeler.
A sewing needle in someone's urethra.
Nipples in a meat grinder.
Paper cuts on the iris.
A razor blade inside a lollipop.
Prying off fingernails with a bottle opener.
A white-hot curling iron in someone's vagina.
I put this up here because I want everyone to grimace like I grimace. To feel sick like I feel sick. To hurt so I don't have to.
It'll all get better eventually. But right now I'm just a rabid dog who wants to lash out at everything. |
|
|
| Errata |
[Dec. 9th, 2005|07:42 pm] |
Some stuff:
1) I saw Narnia. Pretty good, although trying way too hard to be Lord of the Rings. I don't remember there being such a huge battle in the books, or at least being such a big part of the story.
2) The theater where I saw it launched some fake snow on us right before screening the movie. As I looked upward at the lazily falling white foam, a horrible thought entered my brain: "Slow-mo bukkake."
3) First thing I thought when I saw the White Witch: Ann Coulter. I couldn't shake it the entire movie.
4) There's a big Christmas display on Hollywood boulevard. Gigantic tree, Santa's workshop, big candy canes, whole nine yards. And what does it say prominently on the Elves' Workshop but "L. Ron Hubbard's Winter Wonderland." I am going to try and take a picture of this tomorrow.
5) Working 12 hours, then seeing midnight movie, 4 hours of sleep, then another 10 hours of work, followed by a party, followed by 3 more hours of work, until, I am estimating, 3 AM? Sucks. And I have to come in tomorrow. Lame!
6) I want taser gloves. |
|
|
| Flesh and blood pt. 1 |
[Nov. 24th, 2005|02:00 am] |
(I need to go to bed, so not writing any more of this right now, but this just came to me, figured I'd post it)
Sharon came to, blood on her teeth, on her hands, on her son, at her feet.
“Sharon-?”
Richard stood nearby in the doorway to their son's room. The same dried burgundy stain ran down his chin, over his torn shirt, across his chewed-up skin, ending at his heart. He walked over to Sharon and, wrapping an arm around her, sat down beside their dead child.
“Rich? What-? Oh god, Roger. Roger. What happened to Roger?”
“Stop. Stop. Sherry, stop. Close your eyes and listen to me. Don't look at Roger. I need you to close your eyes. Can you do that?”
“Okay.”
“Something terrible has happened. What do you remember last?”
“I... I just got home. I just walked in the door. Just now. I guess I went upstairs to see you, and I-”
“Blacked out?”
“I guess. I don't know! What happened? What happened to Roger?!”
“Roger is dead.”
Sharon began to weep. “Oh god... I knew it, as soon as I came to, I knew it... oh god...”
Roger embraced her tightly, cupping his hands over her eyes as she disintegrated into a sobbing mass. Richard softly stroked her hair for minutes that seemed like hours. Sharon turned to look at Roger, but Richard kept his hand over her eyes.
“Rich, what are you doing? Let me go! I need to see our boy!”
“Stop, Sherry. I need you to keep your eyes closed.”
“What? Stop it! I just want to see him one last time!”
“No, Sherry, I need you to rest your eyes. Because you have to see for the both of us now.”
“What...?”
Sharon stopped struggling, and Richard slowly let his hand down. Two dry, shiftless eyes met Sharon's gaze with a lifeless stare. She waved her hand slowly in front of his face, but they did not move.
“Are you blind?”
“I got bitten awhile before you, and because of that, I came to sooner. I saw Roger, and I saw you, and I just cried, and cried, until I had no more tears left. None. There wasn't any water left. My body just wasn't making any more. I started having a hard time moving my eyes, until they finally just stopped, and my sight faded out.”
“...bitten?”
“...like I said, something terrible has happened.” |
|
|
| The tome of ages |
[Nov. 14th, 2005|11:13 pm] |
At the end of the month, my brother celebrates his birthday, so, in the spirit of good big brotherness, I ask him what he wants for his birthday. After some consideration, he answers with what is surely the hot-ticket item for the newly-21 crowd: a copy of "Racism in the United States: A History of the Anti-Miscegnation Legislation and Litigation," a USC grad school dissertation from 1979.
Uh, okay.
So I got my roommate Alex, who still works at USC, to snag a copy from the library and bring it home, so I could photocopy it. Well, we started running into problems when the library listed three entries for it. Because it was three volumes long. Additionally, the library provided the rather quizzical addendum that it was 29 centimeters thick. At this point, I was of the opinion that perhaps I can just drop it at Kinko's and run away.
Undeterred, Alex ordered it online and picked it up from the library. The librarian tried taking it off the shelf gently, tipping the spine so that it would fall into his hand, and was caught wholly unprepared. Unable to actually get the thing to budge, he instead started to clear other books from the shelf until he could wiggle the 3 volumes out. Alex toted it across campus with no shortage of grousing, and abandoned it on my bed as soon as fate would allow. Thus, upon entry to my room, I found this. I moved it about, and found that the books altogether weigh around 6 pounds. Not a comfortable weight. Furthering the misfortune, copyright information is blazoned across the opening of the book, so Kinko's wouldn't touch them with a ten foot pole.
Nevertheless, my brother deserves presents for his birthday, and given that this is his heart's desire, I set to work on taking photos of each page. I did summarize it a bit, but I think my scanning work remains true to the spirit of the book.
The beginning.
The middle.
The end.
I would like to point out that the book is 1402 pages long, with additional notes going on to page 1694. I feel no shame in my chronicling efforts.
Happy birthday, Jeremy. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
kangrado's journal
