Blogia

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Yellow butterfly

I have no idea what I am going to do about financing my education this fall. I've decided to take three classes to hurry up and finish the MLS. After the insulting "raise" for this fiscal year, my only option is to leave Columbia (and perhaps New York City) to find a better job elsewhere, where the cost of living is lower, and where there exist pure air and soil--and silence.

Yesterday morning I saw a yellow swallowtail butterfly glide over the tracks on the 82nd St. station in Queens. I was flabbergasted. From the platform, I watched it drift down 83rd St. and flit around on a treetop for a minute before the train rattled and scraped into the station and came to a screeching halt. I had to change cars after boarding because of excessive headphone leakage from a salsa/merengue fanatic. Cripe.

It's a rainy weekend. I'm thinking of wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to work when it gets hot again. I don't go to the gym for nothing, folks.

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El Prínzipe y la Letitsia

Pues por Dios que si la tía esa quiere llegar a ser reina de España que:

(1) deje ya de chupar cámara todo el tiempo como si fuera una estrella de telenovela mejicana.
(2) aprenda de una puta vez a deletrear su nombre correctamente en castellano.

¿Y por qué coño el Prínzipe ha decidido dejar la barba en pleno verano? Las fotos de la luna de miel en Cuenca son tan artificiales, tan "estamos muy enamorados y que todos lo sepan ya" que yo personalmente opino que este matrimonio tan frío, tan planeando, no ha sido nada más de una manera de ocultar ciertos aspectos del pasado (y tal vez del presente) del Prínzipe que muchos españoles no admitirían como calidades personales adecuadas para un futuro Rey.

Bored to death and tired as hell

I've just gone to Kristina's old cubicle to see exactly what work is going to be like without her. I found her RedLightGreen insulated "library friendly" coffee cup on the floor between her desk and the ventilation fender. The cup appears to be permanently adhered to the floor in a dried puddle of coffee. I love her for overlooking this last detail, perhaps intentionally; it is the perfect way for her to go: "I did everything I could, but the coffee cup on the floor was not high on my list of priorities," I hear her say, "It just isn't in the cards for me."