Tuesday, January 27, 2004

EVA'S DREAM IS TO MAKE A PAINTING OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING BUT SHE CAN NEVER FIND THE RIGHT THING TO PAINT. EVENTUALLY, SHE WINDS UP IN THE RUN DOWN APARTMENT COMPLEX WHERE THE SNAKE IS LIVING. A GUY TRIES TO SEXUALLY ASSAULT HER AND GETS HER TRAPPED UP AGAINST A WALL. AT THAT MOMENT, THE SNAKE CRAWLS OFF THE TRASH DUMPSTER AND FALLS ON HIM SO HE RUNS AWAY IN FEAR. WHEN SHE SEES THE SNAKE, EVA KNOWS SHE HAS FOUND THE BEAUTIFUL THING FOR HER PAINTING.
Sometimes the writing workshop is hilarious in the sublime sense. The above is an abstract from my fiction class. I wish I'd written it, but I think it would be much better as poetry. I'm pretty sure I can't call it found poetry, but DAMN.

By the way, when the abstract says, "snake," it means a huge albino python that lives in an abandoned apartment building. It does not refer to a guy named "the Snake."

Thought you should know.

Sunday, January 25, 2004

"CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?" HE SAID TO THE FAT, BLOND ACTRESS
It's another cold night in Wightman house. Apparently we have to call the landlords and ask them to turn up the heat every time it gets cold, because they'll shut it off between ridiculously cold days to save some money. One, not all, of my toes went numb just because the floor is so damn cold. And when Carolyn and I walked back from the 61C today we were covered in almost an inch of snow by the time we got back to the house. Fair enough.

Winters do a lot to keep people insular. I don't want to go further than my little neighborhood, and even then I feel an urge to get myself back to my little room as soon as the snow starts up. Even if Carolyn and I are talking to a cute guy she used to know who worked at the Beehive, and he's telling us that "School of Rock" will turn out to be the best movie of the aughts. The whole house smells of popcorn, which is the exact kind of thing that kind of depresses me on Sunday nights.

But still, even just being around the house with Carolyn all day is so pleasant. We roll cigarettes and listen to David Bowie on the record player, and it all makes me very pleased with the view of Pittsburgh out of all the windows.