The Rich Stuff
Dear Childhood,
Please return, for I have missed you immensely.
Love always,
Jesse
Hey, you know what, let’s get out of this blistering summer heat and go some place nice, like North Dakota.
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This afternoon I was listening to Salt and Syncope by Forget Cassettes. I was wondering what “syncope” meant, so I wikipediaed it. It’s the difference between “over the ramparts” and “o’er the ramparts.”
It’s also what happens when you get a tattoo without eating enough during the day.
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An unexpected benefit of visiting Donald’s house (besides, you know, great company and great food) was the gift of a hat and some isotoner gloves (perfect for driving).
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I finally got into that English Literature 1701 class on Wednesday nights. It’s modern literature. So for we have read five short stories and watched one movie. It’s like high school all over again!
Zach quote of the day:
Why does Norway have to be so much better than Sweden?
Why do you even have to ask?
Sarah has been working on her proposal for a residency at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. It would enable her to produce several editions of her book of rocks while teaching and learning from the kids and staff over there. That’s big time stuff. Although I have a general talent for lining up words one after another, there isn’t much call for pop culture references and flights of alcoholic fantasy in your garden variety artist’s statement*, so Sarah had to call in the big guns: Chandler, whose casually brilliant artistry consistently smashes me in the face. Sarah arranged for us to spend the evening with Chandler and her beau, Donald.
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My Viking name is “Jósurr Quickthews”. Stop bogarting my Viking Name — get yer own!
Sarah and I had our first class together: ArtH 3940/5940. It’s all things Hitchcock, which is so glorious that I cannot speak. I had a little trouble staying awake during the lecture, but the film was The Lodger, which was quite good, indeed. No, Sarah and I did not make out during the film.
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