Goals
Good luck on the Ab-Blast class. Every time I have tried to go, something has happened to make it impossible. Maybe we can try to go together.
syeda:
- speak more Urdu
- cook. This would make Ammi very happy. Not only that, but let’s face it, I’m only punishing myself not learning how to make biryani.
- write in my journal more (aside from this virtual world, I need to write in my actual paper/pen journal.)
- have a strict schedule for next semester, to make sure no spare moment is wasted (write for the school paper regularly, maybe attend an ab-blast class twice a week, pick up a shift at the radio station)
- finish reading Midnight’s Children
- finish reading Unbearable Lightness of Being
- finish reading One Hundred Years of Solitude
- do more research on law school VS. __________.
Going to get started right now.
Luv u.
syeda:
I have a copy of this Magritte painting in my room (thanks, Jennifer, without you this post would not exist). It’s usually the last thing I look at before I go to sleep.
Last night I had a dream that Rene Magritte walked into my room. He reached his hand into the picture, and took the apple off of the man’s face. The apple was three dimensional, shiny and green, and then Magritte placed the apple on my side table.
Then I saw the face behind the apple.
Naturally, I can’t remember what the face looks like anymore.
Strange.
Little is known about Magritte’s early life. He began lessons in drawing in 1910. On 12 March 1912, his mother committed suicide by drowning herself in the River Sambre. This was not her first attempt; she had made many over a number of years, driving her husband Léopold to lock her into her bedroom. One day she escaped, and was missing for days. She was later discovered a mile or so down the river, dead. According to a legend, 13 year old Magritte was present when her body was retrieved from the water, but recent research has discredited this story, which may have originated with the family nurse.The image of his mother floating, her dress obscuring her face, may have influenced a 1927–1928 series of paintings of people with cloth obscuring their faces, including Les Amants, but Magritte disliked this explanation.
Allen: That’s quite a lovely Jackson Pollock, isn’t it?
Woman: Yes, it is.
Allen: What does it say to you?
Woman: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror, and degradation, forming a useless, bleak straitjacket in a black, absurd cosmos.
Allen: What are you doing Saturday night?
Woman: Committing suicide.
Allen: What about Friday night?
Play It Again, Sam (1972)
Soymilk
robojo:
I decided to buy some soymilk the other day when I was getting groceries because it was cheaper than all the other milks. I’d never had soymilk before this morning when I used it for cereal. Soymilk is probably the worst of the milks.
Get the vanilla. Eeets good. So is the chocolate, but I don’t know if it would go to well with cereals.
