Woke up and wished I didn’t, if only because I was tired still and did not feel like rolling out of bed, even if Lordi was blaring from the speakers in the other room. Put a pillow over your head, I told myself, but one or two songs later I did get up, turn down the volume, and stand under the hot shower until full wakefulness returned.
I rushed to the department, or so I thought; the bus (38) was late. I got a seat at the very back and read a few pages of Nice Girls Do, got off on Linden, walked through the garage and met up with Cora Lee, and dropped of my things in the office. Such was my trip.
Last night I returned before 1a.m. and the real magic, as I walked along the street rather than the treacherous, icy, and slippery sidewalks, was in providing the first set of footprints in a region, virgin territory, if only until a car came by, another pedestrian, a shovel, a snow plow … but then, for however long, It was my snow, my prints, and pure, undisturbed fields of white under the streetlights.
Teaching turned into talking about technology; it was a nice discussion, and if they (the students) are willing to speak in German, I won’t disturb the mood by making us talk about “academic” topics. Conversation and composition, after all.
I stayed around long enough for Mandy’s package to arrive: The Devil’s Backbone and Mighty Aphrodite on DVD, unopened. Sent priority via the USPS or such. Add that to Dave and Elaine’s copy of Eraserhead, and, hell, I have a few new flicks to view.
After getting the DVDs I headed down the hill, got lunch at the Mediterranean — the first time in weeks, so I splurged and got a sandwich and tea — and then headed to Fair Trade. I thought of getting a fritter, but when I reached in my wallet I had only $2, enough for coffee, so I took that and got the middle table in front of the window. The short-shorn blonde to my left had a paperback copy of Siddhartha (English edition) on the table; had it been Steppenwolf (old thesis topic) I would have felt obliged to strike up a conversation. As it was I minded my own business.
I managed to finish Nice Girls Do, which was a “nice” diversion, but rather meaningless and unfulfilling in the end, just a formula romance with idealized guys and a wishy-washy female lead who was supposed to be “strong,” “independent,” and “smart,” but who was borderline neurotic and emotionally illiterate.
It’s 10p.m. now, Jen just called, and wants to make a late night Woodman’s run. Midnight madness, we’ll call it — the same as the name of a really bad early-80s teen flick, staring Michael J. Fox, I believe. I’ll restock my groceries.
