apocalypse meow

it's the end of the sem and i have nothing to do. actually, i have tons of work waiting for me but i like to pretend that i can afford to lounge around the house watching pirated DVDs and reading the piles of books that keep appearing around my pillow.

i wasn't able to read much this last semester because MA classes forced me to read a bunch of other stuff (e.g., Descriptive Translation Studies and Beyond, Rimbaud's Rainbow, Death in the Afternoon, A Moveable Feast, The Great Gatsby). talk about canon fodder. wahaha, i can't believe i wrote that.

and so the kick ass books i bought the past year are still on the shelf or teetering on the edge of pillow piles, threatening to kill me in my sleep. imagine coming to my funeral and seeing all my protestant relatives wailing over the fact that the combined hardbound weight of david foster wallace's behemoth Infinite Jest, ballard's Empire of the Sun, duras' The War and boyle's Drop City had bashed in the front of my skull during an unfortunate 3:00 am earthquake. tsk tsk. what a waste that would be.

that would also be the end of my dog. who would feed her and give the tummy rubs necessary for her survival? she's a lovely little lhasa apso who hates baths and who everyone hates in turn. my friend M calls her the devildog and my friend R feels this urge to kick her whenever she's in the vicinity. i think it's wonderful that this small handful of dirty white fur is actually able to sink her teeth with deadly accuracy into her choice target, usually my hand or my nose. her last attack involved an attempt to rip open my upper lip while i was kissing her between the eyes.

yes, kitty's her name and i love her.