From Logos to Rent

I thought I'd be spending the next few minutes reading for a class, but my thoughts are crowding my head, and I feel restless again. I'm not sure about what exactly I want to do, and I'm unwilling to impose my presence on anyone when I'm in this mood. I tried calling two of my friends from back home, but one didn't answer and the other reconnected me to her voice mail. I then started calling my friend in Canada, but I just realized that it wouldn't be nice of me to speak to her for the first time in months just to rant incoherently, so I put my phone away. Then I started thinking that maybe I should write in my journal, because that always gets me thinking straight again, but, somehow, I didn't feel like doing that. And then I remembered saying to one of my friends here that I was going to update my blog this weekend, and so I'll ramble here. It'd be a nice prop to my pretense of productiveness.

* * *

I wish I could write about my thoughts now, but I can't. I feel myself thinking, but I can't grasp what I am thinking about. I just feel a bit disturbed and not completely here. I sometimes think about why I like writing so much. And I'd like to think that it's because, by writing, I bring order to myself. Logos, isn't it? The Word. When my philosophy professor first taught us the concept, I felt so enlightened. Logos = the ordering of the universe. And the Word was made flesh. I remember thinking, so that's what those lines mean. I like it that the Word means something other than the word. Cause when I write, I use words (who doesn't?), and it's nice to think that there's more to my words than I see.

* * *

It's snowing outside. I like the snow a lot. It's white and powdery and it looks very clean. But when the grass peeks through it, I see the unshaven legs of a really white man with green hair. And when the snow falls, I see lots of floating dandruff. And when the wind blows, I feel the snow rush up my nose and mouth and eyes before I can do anything to stop it. Pretty invasive, actually; I was rather insulted the first time that happened. But other than that, snow is nice. It looks exactly like it does in the fridge, and I find it pretty. But my friends here tell me that it'll get brown and slippery and gross. So yeah, that's something to look forward to. In the meantime, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

* * *

I hate doing household chores. Well, okay, I don't really hate doing them. I just don't like having to set aside my time for them. I have not made my bed for days. I used to do it every morning, before my half-walk/half-jog to the law school. I'd tell myself that I was doing a favor for my future self (i.e. the me that would arrive back home from the law school for a few hours of sleep). And then I realized that by not doing my bed, I was doing a favor for my present self. So the present self won over the future, and the bed remains unmade.

I've developed some gross habits, actually. Take the fridge, for example. There's a blueberry rock in there that used to be a cupcake. A few weeks back, I bit into it, then remembered that I don't like blueberry (I only eat strawberry, and I hate cherry.). And so I stuck it there. I haven't taken it out yet, but I guess I will, at some point in time. Or maybe my flatmate will. But then again, maybe not. I like my flatmate a lot, but I sometimes get the impression that she's even grosser than me.

Most of my glasses are in my fridge. I drink from them, then don't feel like washing them, so they end up there, where I think they'll be safe from bacteria. And then I run out of glasses, so I have to use plastic cups. But that's okay. Drinking from glasses is overrated anyway. But back to the bacteria. See, those things grow everywhere. One time, I brought home an empty Snapple bottle, because I said I wanted to put orange juice in it. I put it in my room and then forgot about it. And then I saw it, so I went to get the gallon of orange juice I keep in the fridge. I was all set to pour juice into the empty bottle when I saw sea-urchin-like spider-shaped bacteria growing in the bottle. That was gross. I don't even know if I'm naming the creature correctly. I call it bacteria, but I remember now that bacteria is too small to be seen. Is the E-coli virus a type of bacteria? I don't know. But okay, if what I saw wasn't bacteria, then I guess I'd have to call it the grossest name I can think of. So okay, we can call it cockroach.

* * *

I saw Rent two days ago and Pride and Prejudice last night. (I could have seen Harry Potter tonight, but I felt that I had to get some work done over the Thanksgiving break. So much for that plan.) The music in Rent was as great as usual (the Collins guy has the best voice), but there were some things about that show that made me skeptical. Okay, first thing was how they all got to be friends so fast. See, the group there seems so tight, and they just met each other. Can it happen like that? I don't get really tight with people that quickly. And I didn't like the end, where Mimi said she saw Angel as she was passing through the tunnel of light. That, I felt, was stretching it a bit too far. It's just that the whole movie is so earthly and real, so the sudden addition of something like that is jarring, to say the least. And could Mimi really have spent weeks living off the streets and still have her hair look as un-greasy as that? She looked fine to me, except for the fact that she was dying. But I was glad to have watched the movie.

And on to Pride and Prejudice. After the film, my friend asked me if I had liked it, and I told her that I'd tell her today. She forgot to ask me that today, but if she'd had, I still wouldn't have been able to answer her. See, I had a good time watching the film. I'm just not sure if I think it's good. I thought that Mr. Bingley looked like a gay clown (was he the guy in Notting Hill?). He was just so easy-to-please and gullible, and I know he's supposed to be all that, but I'm not sure if he should have been so to that extent. Mr. Darcy was good. Elizabeth was, well, a little too frivolous for my taste, really. She kept giggling is why, and that got on my nerves a bit. I found Jane to be a bit flat, but my friend said that she was supposed to be flat, and I guess that could be true. Lydia was good. Lady Catherine was awesome. And the ending (Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, mwah-mwah-mwah) was bad. It had me cringing and writhing in my seat. I don't wish Jane Austen were dead, but I guess it's a blessing that she wasn't alive to witness that. She would have died.

Anyway, the film did stay true to the essence of the book. It wasn't anywhere near as faithful as the BBC mini-series, of course, but for the most part, it didn't stray. I think when I get back home, I'm going to read the book again. I have to reconnect with the story, and then I can properly say whether I liked the movie or not. That said, I wouldn't be surprised if I end up seeing this movie again.

* * *

I don't have anything more to say. This is it, then.