I will now be on thesewerharpy.blogspot.com

Brrr

There is a frigid, scared, excessively cautious Anglo-Saxon Protestant inside of me that is keeping me locked up in a kind of wintry isolation that nobody can reach, and every time I step out of it, I get hurt. But I'm sick of this cabin fever.

Chicago is so damn cold.

I love Joann Sfar. Check him out. I mean it. The fact that there exists in the world a graphic novel in French that's about agnostic klezmer musicians and beautiful girls with big asses makes me so happy.

I'm not making sense today

I think we understand that beauty lies and distorts. I think that's what we like about it. We love anything that can sweep us away from logic and reality and turn us into idealistic idiots for awhile. And idiotic idealism is so underrated.

EDIT: And by idiotic idealism, I mean, for example, little kids who want to grow up to be ballerinas or dolphins. Thanks for pointing that out, Harry. But you and your girlfriend are beautiful!! And I'm really more of a Teddy Roosevelt kinda gal myself.

I'd like to spend half an hour in a Keith Haring mural.

Sophie?? Sophie?? Are you in there??

It's only been recently that I've realized that almost everything I do is to distance myself from the immediate world around me. I have made a habit out of fighting reality. It's only recently that I've realized that so many of the things I do are attempts to slip out of the present into a kind of place where time loops and gets sidetracked and is not unlikely to start in the future and end in the past. This blog, for example. My daydreaming and constant CONSTANT fidgeting. My religious watching of travel shows (particularly No Reservations, partly because of my probably not entirely healthy crush on the fifty-year-old host). Weetzie Bat. The fact that I make friends on the internet. Ali Farka Toure and Taraf de Haidouks. The fact that the only person I tell more or less everything to (including my shrink) is hundreds of miles away and usually violently ill. The fact that I've been researching colleges since sophomore year. The fact that I rarely find anyone else as rewarding to talk to as myself. How few people have any idea what I'm like.

And I wonder why high school's been so dissappointing. I'm sure that if I had no fantasy life, I would be some kind of dead.

I am absolutely brilliant at finding ways not to participate. I've been doing this my entire life.