Like sands through the hourglass

7:45 to 9:45 - taught
10:15 to 12ish - correct homework, plan lessons
12ish to 3:30 - NAP
4-8 - prepped and taught
8 to now - I don’t really remember, but I think there was pizza
Now bed, because I start at 7:45 tomorrow again.

Goût et dégoût

It hasn’t been a good couple of weeks on the ‘people who like what I like’ front. While I was raised an Astros fan, my grandfather’s favorite team was the Cardinals, so except for when knocked the Astros out of the playoffs I’ve always been happy to see the Cards win. But this just makes me sad and frustrated.

And I don’t think I need to add much about how bananas EVERY SINGLE THING this Nickelodeon guy said was, but wow every single thing he said was bananas. I’m going to assume anyone reading this already totally sees all that is racist and sexist and wrong here, so I’ll just point out one other small detail he got wrong: The Adventures of Pete and Pete does not hold up today. I was a teenager when it ran, and I loved it. Around last year, a bunch of episodes were put on YouTube, and I got so excited and made Paul watch it, because he’s from New Zealand where they only show sheepdog competitions on TV. And so we watched the Nightcrawlers episode, and I was so happy and full of warm fuzzies, and I turned to look and Paul, expecting to see warm fuzzies reflected back at me, but no, just a polite smile, and “Well, that was a really ‘90’s show” his only remark.

Rejected Halloween 2014 costume #1: child choir member from the We Belong music video

Not quite timely concert review

Friday night I convinced Paul that we had to go to this: The Texas Underground Tour. A bunch of Austin-based bands in Toulouse? How could I pass this up? It was at what used to be a squat, now bought and run by the city for concerts and subversive poetry readings. It looks pretty much the same as it did in its old squat days, minus the fire-hazard wood-burning stove outside. The bathroom is still grody, the beer is still cheap. No cover.

We missed Pornohelmut, but judging from overhearing the long-haired guys with leather bracelets and skull rings, it was a good show. The next band sounded like Birthday Party-era Nick Cave. The lead singer was wearing leather pants and chant-singing “won’t you shut the fuck up” and “ha” over and over again. “This is a song I wrote at a workshop at Pau. The theme is liberty,” is how he introduced one song. His kid, maybe three years old, was in the audience, wearing protective headphones. During quiet moments between songs you could hear him saying “bonjour papa!” and “papa je te vois!”

Next up was a guy called Mother Fakir, which was basically some Jim Rose sideshow freak stuff (um, sorry all my cultural references are early 1990’s, don’t know how that happened). It involved clamps, piercings, chains, and bleeding, and it was gross. It was really hot in the room, and the ‘smoke wherever you want!’ policy from the squat was still in effect.

And last was a group consisting of two djs in choir robes with unicorn heads with light-up eyes, with animation projected and a girl dancing, also with a giant unicorn head. It was ridiculous. It was awesome. It was my favorite.

We found this on the street in Paris. Parisians just throw out their Canned Heat “Best Of” tapes. Ha, their loss!

We found this on the street in Paris. Parisians just throw out their Canned Heat “Best Of” tapes. Ha, their loss!

We went to Paris last weekend to say goodbye to some friends who are moving to Mexico City. We ate a lot, walked a lot, didn’t sleep a lot. We had apéro at the Buttes-Chaumont, a park I’d never been to before. We’re back home now and I’m trying to wrap my head around how early I have to get up tomorrow.


I taught my first class for my new adjuncting job today. I was pretty happy with how it went. It was also the first time I taught a class that starts at 7:45 am. We’ll see how that goes over the semester, but my premonition is Not Great for First-Year College Students. One kid sitting right in the front just crashed halfway through class and slumped face-down on his desk. I didn’t wake him up because that seemed kind of mean, and it was pretty funny. There’s also a good chance I do something similar during dinner tonight (I also taught at school 1 from 5-8pm) so who am I to judge?

As part of a film festival celebrating the grotesque, the President of Groland is making his way down my street, defended by his loyal bodyguards, and accompanied by drummers.

Tags: chez moi

Saturday at the duck pond

Saturday at the duck pond


I’m organizing an event that takes place next week. On Tuesday. Which means I’m replying to a lot of RSVP emails with ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you on Tuesday’ when I really want to write ‘See you next Tuesday’.