at Empire Cafe, where my laptop allows intermittent internet connection. (Thank you, linksys!)
The main point of this post is:
Go See Hot Fuzz!
if you haven’t already… you know who you are. exclamation point.
Hello again. I apologize for yelling, but the movie was fucking fantastic (and even managed to avoid the f-word multiple times. It’s rated R for violence and weirdness, I believe) and hilariously funny. If you’re in town, and don’t want to see the movie alone, I’m your man (or non-gendered filmographic partner).
Tonight I’m reading at the MFAH. There’s a Salon there sponsored by Starbucks (eww!) that’ll have readers, singers, music, actors, etc. From 9 pm to 12 am. That’s right! Five-teen hours! Crazy! Delirious! Tasty! Fuzzy!
Dating is a strange bundle of yarn. I feel like an octopus made of yarn (many arms, but all wet). Which would be pretty cool.
There are two jobs that I could apply for now, still, but they seem so far away, and so far from my mind at the moment. Maybe after graduation and my life calms into Calmville. (Where is it? Are you coming to visit? Do you need directions?)
I’m spending most of the afternoon making the list of what to read tonight. I know that at least a few of the people from last Friday’s reading will be at the MFAH, and so I don’t want a repeat. Also, it’s not specifically a book reading, so I feel like it’s a chance to read other poems I don’t touch as often (e.g., The Sonnet That Would Not Die). But it’s also clearly a place to build an audience, just like every reading. Le sigh.