Hello my sleepy friends! Why are you sleeping in the library at 9:30 in the morning?
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Long day? Have a nap!
Hello my sleepy friends! Why are you sleeping in the library at 9:30 in the morning?
La Grande Bouffe
The aftermath of an eating orgy I witnessed at John's birthday celebration. What a night.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Poems what what
Your eyes open
like flowers
close
like sunsets
cry
like waterfalls
I kissed you
like my pillow
in grade school--
I think the
pillow
liked it better
You popped
our love
like a pimple--
I still
have scars.
All is fair
in love
and beer pong.
I mounted you
like a steer,
you bucked me,
like a bronco.
I love you
like a clownfish
loves a sea anenome--
have you
not
heard of
symbiosis?
She said,
"Don't ever leave me."
He said,
"I'm just going
to the bathroom."
We danced
like no one was watching--
turns out they were.
We got embarrassed
and went back inside.
like flowers
close
like sunsets
cry
like waterfalls
I kissed you
like my pillow
in grade school--
I think the
pillow
liked it better
You popped
our love
like a pimple--
I still
have scars.
All is fair
in love
and beer pong.
I mounted you
like a steer,
you bucked me,
like a bronco.
I love you
like a clownfish
loves a sea anenome--
have you
not
heard of
symbiosis?
She said,
"Don't ever leave me."
He said,
"I'm just going
to the bathroom."
We danced
like no one was watching--
turns out they were.
We got embarrassed
and went back inside.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Step 1: Strike Forehead with Palm
"Somehow, and I still don't know how you did this, but you managed to make anger and confusion a dichotomy. You don't see that often."-- a student in my writing class, commenting on another student's work
John's Musical Experience!
So one of my favorite things that Roommate John does is, sometimes when he listens to music he tells me the images and stories he imagines. Oftentimes what he says is absolutely the darndest.
Here are three songs that inspired Roommate John, and what he said as he was listening. I have recorded it all:
"Bercuse in D-flat major, Op. 57"- Roy Eaton
"A timid young girl stands at the doorway, staring across the dance studio. In her left hand she carries a pair of ballet shoes. A bunch of older girls are already warming up, stretching, lifting their legs up in arcs, L shapes. She slides in, cautiously, trying to avoid the eyes of the other dancers. She walks along the mirror against the bar, staring at the bar. And then, she puts her shoes down, slides her tiny toes into the leather lacing...."
The Legend of Ashikata Theme"- Joe Hisaishi
"The sun slowly rises across the hills, shedding light on a castle. Inside sits the prince of the kingdom. He is pondering over the day ahead of him, perhaps his last, thinking about his family, and more importantly his love, now riding off in the distance from the war-torn battle fields of the kingdom of Karassa. The princess is off in the distance, it is autumn. She is walking along a mountain range with the sun coming up shining up against her back, creating a silhouette of ribbons and geisha dresses. The princess is followed by a trail of the entire kingdom, from peasants to royal barons. Now the prince is walking down through the hall, men are starting to appear, all dressed up in armor. The prince goes into his quarters and opens his drawers. In front of him is steel-plated war armor with horns and spikes decorated all over it. The prince cannot help but to think of the princess. He look on his armor and tied across it is a necklace, the necklace of his love when he asked her to marry him amongst the tumbleweed and the marshses. The prince puts on his armor, his gauntlets, his war boots and puts his helmet under his right arm, straps on his sword and takes a spear, closing his eyes... The princess is far away and safe and the kingdom is safe because he has already produced an heir. But he will not survive this day. He jumps on his horse, the men are waiting for him. Then he rides off through the gates into the plains. The sky is purple with clouds in it, he looks up knowing it will be long day. Rain will come."
"The Single Petal of a Rose" by Duke Ellington
"The woods of Boston. A small wood lodge with lights dimming in and out is seen amidst tall trees. It is Novemeber. As a matter of fact it is Thanksgiving. On the table sits a giant turkey with candles lit. The sun has just gone down and dusk is settling in amongst the forest area. Two people are sitting at the table, an old man and a young boy. The old man is telling the young boy stories of pirates, astronauts, and dinosaurs. The snow starts falling outside, drifting lightly. The old man coughs, the boy looks alarmed and the old man reassures him, "Don't worry I will be all right." The old man and the boy finish dinner and they get up and go outside on the porch. Snow is falling a little harder now. The little boy is giddy with delight and pulls the old man's hand, urging him to follow him into the night. The old man gives in and the two of them walk off into the distance leaving a trail of footsteps soon to be covered by the snow....."
Here are three songs that inspired Roommate John, and what he said as he was listening. I have recorded it all:
"Bercuse in D-flat major, Op. 57"- Roy Eaton
"A timid young girl stands at the doorway, staring across the dance studio. In her left hand she carries a pair of ballet shoes. A bunch of older girls are already warming up, stretching, lifting their legs up in arcs, L shapes. She slides in, cautiously, trying to avoid the eyes of the other dancers. She walks along the mirror against the bar, staring at the bar. And then, she puts her shoes down, slides her tiny toes into the leather lacing...."
The Legend of Ashikata Theme"- Joe Hisaishi
"The sun slowly rises across the hills, shedding light on a castle. Inside sits the prince of the kingdom. He is pondering over the day ahead of him, perhaps his last, thinking about his family, and more importantly his love, now riding off in the distance from the war-torn battle fields of the kingdom of Karassa. The princess is off in the distance, it is autumn. She is walking along a mountain range with the sun coming up shining up against her back, creating a silhouette of ribbons and geisha dresses. The princess is followed by a trail of the entire kingdom, from peasants to royal barons. Now the prince is walking down through the hall, men are starting to appear, all dressed up in armor. The prince goes into his quarters and opens his drawers. In front of him is steel-plated war armor with horns and spikes decorated all over it. The prince cannot help but to think of the princess. He look on his armor and tied across it is a necklace, the necklace of his love when he asked her to marry him amongst the tumbleweed and the marshses. The prince puts on his armor, his gauntlets, his war boots and puts his helmet under his right arm, straps on his sword and takes a spear, closing his eyes... The princess is far away and safe and the kingdom is safe because he has already produced an heir. But he will not survive this day. He jumps on his horse, the men are waiting for him. Then he rides off through the gates into the plains. The sky is purple with clouds in it, he looks up knowing it will be long day. Rain will come."
"The Single Petal of a Rose" by Duke Ellington
"The woods of Boston. A small wood lodge with lights dimming in and out is seen amidst tall trees. It is Novemeber. As a matter of fact it is Thanksgiving. On the table sits a giant turkey with candles lit. The sun has just gone down and dusk is settling in amongst the forest area. Two people are sitting at the table, an old man and a young boy. The old man is telling the young boy stories of pirates, astronauts, and dinosaurs. The snow starts falling outside, drifting lightly. The old man coughs, the boy looks alarmed and the old man reassures him, "Don't worry I will be all right." The old man and the boy finish dinner and they get up and go outside on the porch. Snow is falling a little harder now. The little boy is giddy with delight and pulls the old man's hand, urging him to follow him into the night. The old man gives in and the two of them walk off into the distance leaving a trail of footsteps soon to be covered by the snow....."
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Story of what happens when John goes to Latin America for ISP (International Studies Program) next spring, by Jordan and Roommate John
It is a hot latina night. John is brooding in a smoky Asian-LatinAmerican fusion club, smoking one of those long cigarettes. The air is thick, sultry, and a hot haze hangs over the haze.
Through the haze, John spots a flash of red, a hot, LatinAmerican red. Then, a leg. An arm. And then-- that face! That dress! John is filled with a longing, a lust the depth of the Amazon. He sees the woman in the red dress, his latinAmerican queen of the Amazon! He is filled with desire as he gazes and she sways in her sultry sultriness. Their eyes meet-- he looks at her, she at him, they at each other! It's like eye sex basically. He knows he can wait no longer.
He takes a white rose from a vase on the table, and sticks it through his thick moostache in a gesture of manliness, like a sexy Asian/Latin American fusion mating call. He swivels across the ballroom, swaying like a palm tree in the breeze. She notices him and is a little weirded out but mostly turned on by the swaying palm tree. John, wearing a fine Italian suit of black suede, extracts the rose from his moostache.
"A beautiful rose, for a beautiful lady," he growls, taking in the hot Latin American musk of the woman in the red dress. "OH seniorrrrrr," Juanita purrs, overcome with desire, "I didn't know Asians could grow such thick moostaches!" John raises a sultry eyebrow, beckoning her hotly. "I didn't know women could grow such thick moostaches!" he groans, whirling her onto the floor.
They dance, dance like everyone is watching, because they are watching. The club is lit aflame by the hot passion of the dancers, and the erotic sound of the bongos. "Juanita, let's get out of here," John moans, tugging at her moostache. "OH seniorrrrr," Juanita rasps, "Where do we going?" "Come to my jungle bungalo," says John.
And so they escape into the hot night, running across the sands of Latin America with the speed of a mongoose. They slow down on the beach, strolling sensuously amongst the moon, the stars, and some tiny lizards. "Why don't we lay down upon the sands," says John, "and gaze upon the stars, or as we say in Asian, shingshing." And so they lay, the sexual tension escalating like an escalator, or neutrons in a nuclear reactor. John turns, desire spilling out like magma from a hot LatinAmerican volcano, or an Asian volcano. Either one is good. The sillhouettes of the lovers are intertwined like a lanyard of love, or like two palm trees. John leans in for the kiss.
And then, a voice in the darkness! "Oh my god it's so sandy here, FML! I can't read my Financial Times in the dark." A pause, and then, recognition. "LEIGH?!" shrieks John into the night, like a shrieking animal. "Ugh, I gotta go, I have to write a cover letter," Leigh whispers, disappearing into the night.
John turns back to Juanita, her musk lingering in the air, smelling like sand and quesadillas. "Where were we, my latinAmerican sweet?" murmers, leaning in once again for a passionate, lusty kiss. Then, out of the darkness, a voice!
"Hey guys, what are you doing." "GARY?!!!!!!!" squawks John, breaking the silence of the night, like one may break a vase or something else made of glass. The voice says: "Oh hey John, Gabe and I are getting dumplings you wanna come?" John groans into the night, despairing like a jackal. "GARRRRYRYRYYYRYRYRYRY" he says, like a boy in the depths of puberty. "Oh, okay, I'll see you later," says Gary, slinking off into the night, leaving a snail-like trail of mucus behind him.
John turns back again, Juanita is impatient. "SENIORRRR! I cannot wait any longerrrrrrr." John says: "Oh, my darrrrrling!" swooping down upon her, lips apart, moostache grinding against her moostache like two pieces of sandpaper. They are locked in a passionate embrace, more passionate than a tornado! Or a summer squall!
Then, out of the shadows, another voice, rising quick and unintelligably like a lemur. "Heyjohnyouwannagetsomechickenandrice?" sputters Jae. "What?!" says John. "JohnI'mreallyhungrylet'sgogetsomechickenandricecomeon," "Oh, I have some work to....OKAY!" says John, getting up quickly from the sand, dusting himself off.
"But Seniorrrr!" cries Juanita, furrrious. John says: "Schwarma calls! We'll always have Asia/Latin American fusion. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to the club. We got it back tonight." Juanita howls, "But what about us?!" John looks back coldly, "I've got a job to do. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Juanita, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of schwarma in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid."
It is a hot latina night. John is brooding in a smoky Asian-LatinAmerican fusion club, smoking one of those long cigarettes. The air is thick, sultry, and a hot haze hangs over the haze.
Through the haze, John spots a flash of red, a hot, LatinAmerican red. Then, a leg. An arm. And then-- that face! That dress! John is filled with a longing, a lust the depth of the Amazon. He sees the woman in the red dress, his latinAmerican queen of the Amazon! He is filled with desire as he gazes and she sways in her sultry sultriness. Their eyes meet-- he looks at her, she at him, they at each other! It's like eye sex basically. He knows he can wait no longer.
He takes a white rose from a vase on the table, and sticks it through his thick moostache in a gesture of manliness, like a sexy Asian/Latin American fusion mating call. He swivels across the ballroom, swaying like a palm tree in the breeze. She notices him and is a little weirded out but mostly turned on by the swaying palm tree. John, wearing a fine Italian suit of black suede, extracts the rose from his moostache.
"A beautiful rose, for a beautiful lady," he growls, taking in the hot Latin American musk of the woman in the red dress. "OH seniorrrrrr," Juanita purrs, overcome with desire, "I didn't know Asians could grow such thick moostaches!" John raises a sultry eyebrow, beckoning her hotly. "I didn't know women could grow such thick moostaches!" he groans, whirling her onto the floor.
They dance, dance like everyone is watching, because they are watching. The club is lit aflame by the hot passion of the dancers, and the erotic sound of the bongos. "Juanita, let's get out of here," John moans, tugging at her moostache. "OH seniorrrrr," Juanita rasps, "Where do we going?" "Come to my jungle bungalo," says John.
And so they escape into the hot night, running across the sands of Latin America with the speed of a mongoose. They slow down on the beach, strolling sensuously amongst the moon, the stars, and some tiny lizards. "Why don't we lay down upon the sands," says John, "and gaze upon the stars, or as we say in Asian, shingshing." And so they lay, the sexual tension escalating like an escalator, or neutrons in a nuclear reactor. John turns, desire spilling out like magma from a hot LatinAmerican volcano, or an Asian volcano. Either one is good. The sillhouettes of the lovers are intertwined like a lanyard of love, or like two palm trees. John leans in for the kiss.
And then, a voice in the darkness! "Oh my god it's so sandy here, FML! I can't read my Financial Times in the dark." A pause, and then, recognition. "LEIGH?!" shrieks John into the night, like a shrieking animal. "Ugh, I gotta go, I have to write a cover letter," Leigh whispers, disappearing into the night.
John turns back to Juanita, her musk lingering in the air, smelling like sand and quesadillas. "Where were we, my latinAmerican sweet?" murmers, leaning in once again for a passionate, lusty kiss. Then, out of the darkness, a voice!
"Hey guys, what are you doing." "GARY?!!!!!!!" squawks John, breaking the silence of the night, like one may break a vase or something else made of glass. The voice says: "Oh hey John, Gabe and I are getting dumplings you wanna come?" John groans into the night, despairing like a jackal. "GARRRRYRYRYYYRYRYRYRY" he says, like a boy in the depths of puberty. "Oh, okay, I'll see you later," says Gary, slinking off into the night, leaving a snail-like trail of mucus behind him.
John turns back again, Juanita is impatient. "SENIORRRR! I cannot wait any longerrrrrrr." John says: "Oh, my darrrrrling!" swooping down upon her, lips apart, moostache grinding against her moostache like two pieces of sandpaper. They are locked in a passionate embrace, more passionate than a tornado! Or a summer squall!
Then, out of the shadows, another voice, rising quick and unintelligably like a lemur. "Heyjohnyouwannagetsomechickenandrice?" sputters Jae. "What?!" says John. "JohnI'mreallyhungrylet'sgogetsomechickenandricecomeon," "Oh, I have some work to....OKAY!" says John, getting up quickly from the sand, dusting himself off.
"But Seniorrrr!" cries Juanita, furrrious. John says: "Schwarma calls! We'll always have Asia/Latin American fusion. We didn't have, we, we lost it until you came to the club. We got it back tonight." Juanita howls, "But what about us?!" John looks back coldly, "I've got a job to do. Where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Juanita, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of schwarma in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid."
Only in New York
Saw this from my window, and lucky enough to snap a photo. Don't you love the looks that he's getting from the people around him? Classic New York weirdness.
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