Today I got my ethnomusicology paper back. It turns out that in my bibliography when I was doing the entry for Robert Walser's Running with the Devil: Power, Gender, and Madness in Heavy Metal Music, I wrote that his name was Don Walser.
Whenever my life gets too serious, I watch this music video. It's sort of a happy version of West Side Story, but with Jermaine Jackson and some angry white "men." It's also sort of like The Lost Boys, but without the vampires.
In doing my research, I came across quite a few articles on Pia Zadora. Apparently, she had it all, except a music career: good looks, great style, and a rich husband.
I decided that I am going to move to San Antonio after I graduate, at least for a year, to continue researching this topic.
I foresee the next year of my life alone in an apartment with Tolstoy and Edwige, stuck in a town with nothing to do and knowing no one, with a super platinum Netflix account.
Last night, while Tony and I were indulging our egos and flattering ourselves, he mentioned that his older brother had once taken a creative writing class. This class involved writing weekly, as well as reading, revising, and editing the papers that other students turned in during the same class. Tony's brother, indulging his ego and flattering himself, took to making these suggestions and revisions in a gold pen. From then on, he took to calling these corrections "The Gold Standard."
Apparently, when you graduate from UT, the CO-OP gives you a card that entitles you to 10% off all future purchases. This seems totally absurd to me. When you're a student, busy with things, disorganized, and completely lacking money, they expect you to keep track of receipts for an entire year, and then mail them in. But as soon as you have the time to be organized, or the money to spend on these things, the CO-OP gives you a discount card.
I have a purple bike and a red bike and a tan bike. They're neat. I dream of the day I will have an entire fleet of purple bicycles, and my own bicycle gang of like-minded colorists.