either i am a very precious plaything that has been cozened and protected in wool and tissue paper, or i am sick.
i now hate starbucks-- with a vengeance-- for perhaps as long as the next 12 hours, until i have to darken its doors with my piles of notes again.
things i learnt yesterday:
1) you can grow stupid with boredom
2) sitting for hours in starbucks is now a torture method that CIA should try, rather than merely waterboarding its suspects
3) i can, however, survive an entire day away from Belle-- also known as "my damnable laptop", depending on whether i am pissed or not with her
4) i cannot however survive without random dance videos. and i was lucky that i had Mikaela-- also known as my player-- to help out on that point
5) the american courts actually seriously had to consider whether exercise of free speech extended to slogans like "fuck the draft" (do you think tla or kevin etc might be offended if i quoted tt in my essay)
6) that is however a whole lot more than local courts consider. our guiding formula is is this-- if it's anyone from, say, Wonderful Is My Party, any defamation action MUST SUCCEED, and succeed BLINDINGLY. like 300k awards, as compared to 12k for anyone else. (by the time i finished that article my annotations in the margins had grown to font size 28).
7) shape run is on july 19th!!! and must register this weekend!
8) my horoscope for april from shape tells me i need my beauty sleep. very ironic, considering the person reading it had six hours of sleep in two days.
9) and pursuant to that point-- to lily lee and xf-- no, actually, you cannot survive on that amount of sleep.
10) my lovely pretty converse bag is SPLITTING. i blame the stupid book (the red one) and its descendant, the stupid book two (the blue one). NEVER PLACE LAW TEXTBOOKS IN ANY BAG, unless you hate it. the bag, not the book.
some things are very transient. yesterday looking up from my seat i was greeted with arrays of starbucks tumblers and coffee presses et al, and on one of them sunlight had worked its magic to turn a nondescript black background into mocha, and filigreed splashes of molten silver in the contours of its molded plastic, and splashed orange in throwaway glances from the lamps inside the coffeehouse itself. and in quiet unassuming clear plastic were reflected sky and a sliver of a palm tree nodding gently outside, and the promise of freedom after this. and that is beauty that all starbucks' marketing, as capable as it is, will never be able to capture.
the night was better still. the stars were brilliant-- even more so than the night of my santa anas post, and later there were winds that howled through my house like all the hounds of hell were baying in its gusts. if we could only interpret storm winds i think they'd have far more to say than this blog ever will.
still cotton woolish. going for dance later. pray that i don't screw up and fail to catch all my steps arghhh.
do you want to be a polyesterrrrr brriddeeeeeee
(yes, liz phair-- and lifehouse-- AND lin jun jie-- has been haunting my player all week. WHAT is this obsession with the Ls)