Mugs Are For Hot Beverages And Glasses Are For Dweebs Who Can’t See

This is Cecelia, covering for a super sleepy Ella tonight. I was going to talk about those scary hours (minutes? seconds?) in between sleep and consciousness where you’re not sure if you’re awake or dreaming. And you just had this outlandish/terrifying/heartbreaking dream that your commonroom was a brothel or that Sylvia Plath is and has always been the Dean of Yale College and your roommate got in a fight with you over it and you’re really anxious just because you’re pretty sure what you just experienced was too absurd to be a reality but sometimes life is absurd so maybe not! Ah well. Enjoy this picture of my cat followed by a poem by Charles Bukowski.

 

The Aliens

you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.

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In Which Ella Can Prove Her Age and Use Fruit as a Phone

As I have only just tripped and stumbled my way down the hill from Tal’s (darn those bumpy sidewalks), tonight’s post will be brief.

Today, I traded in these:

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for a fancy, new state-issued ID. Now, I won’t have to take my French student ID card with me anytime I want to see a movie (apparently, I look like I’m twelve to the people in the box office at the cinema) or do anything else where I need to prove my status as a legal adult. I’d buy a lottery ticket, but seeing as I have a better chance of being struck by lightening than winning, I think I’ll abstain.

In other news, I found this very cool phone in Tal’s kitchen. It can’t call anyone, and I’ve yet to be able to find its buttons or touchscreen, but it can also be used as a snack, which is pretty snazzy.

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