something about this just makes me feel old.



awkward juxtapositions meet blogging

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i managed to get out for a while and went to used book superstore in danvers with laura. people had recommended the place to us, but we hadn't had a chance to actually go there, and i hadn't bought books in a while due to the austerity measure called OH MY GOD I'M GRADUATING NEXT MONTH.

anyway.

i found some good stuff: william h. gass, cloudsplitter, aung san suu kyi, maxine hong kingston's the woman warrior: memoirs of a girlhood among ghosts. the hardcover of maile meloy's a family daughter i used to see in the window of cornerstone books back when they were new.

i even continued my quest to gather as many varied religious texts as possible by snapping up a copy of the book of mormon, which is sort of like twilight in that it has mormon social values but unlike twilight in that it doesn't have any vampires. it's brand new and has suggested reading highlighted by friendly brainwashers along with beautiful coloured plates of jesus, jesus visiting the americas, and joseph smith. laura said she's not sure if she wants it in the house, but i made sure to balance it out by also picking up mary daly's beyond god the father: toward a philosophy of women's liberation. so it's okay.

i also got a copy of joan didion's book-length essay salvador which came with a puzzling inscription:

Merry Christmas 1983
to Jim
love Andy

You're supposed to read this
on Christmas night in bed
after making the bed with
your new flannel sheets.


this, of course, on the inside cover of a book whose review blurb on the opposite side reads 'joan didion brings this insanely violent world to life so that it ends up invading our flesh...'

i wonder what i'll find next time.


our great spring victory

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so i'm in full-on, get everything done to finish school crisis mode. i'll get through this the way i always have: long periods of panic, long periods of hard work, and longer periods of lying quite still in a darkened room listening to shoegaze.


future sightings

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'i tell her that maps used to end, the world had edges and no one knew what was past them. i tell her she and i are standing on such an edge; all the rest of the map is blank parchment, and one sentence. beyond this point: monsters.'

-- haven kimmel, iodine


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