When my alarm went off at 7:13 a.m., I was a little giddy and groggy. It took me a minute to shake off the dream that involved being law school only not wanting to being in law school or remembering applying to go to law school. Also, the class I’m taking is being taught by this guy who used to be in my Loft classes, I called him Weapons of Mass Garrulousness because he liked to talk. A lot. And those are his initials. Also, it’s a class about being a black lawyer. Neither WMG or I am black. Also I live in a dorm with a girl who keeps her clothes in the shower and I ruin her favorite white-suede ruffled skirt by flinging my hair around and getting purple hair dye on the skirt.
I’ve been setting the alarm the last few days because my sleep schedule is all screwed up. It’s Karen Russell’s fault because I’m more in love with Swamplandia! than I am with sleep. I’m giddy because there was hot coffee and a snow day! The Weather Terrorists had predicted twelve to eighteen inches of snow. I hate snow but I love snow days. It’s like a statewide holiday for Angry Hermits like me. A show of solidarity as all Minnesotans are homebound.
The morning whizzed by in a flurry of coffee and Multi-Grain Cheerios and crying over the last seven minutes of “A League of Her Own.” This is followed by Meet the Press and a Time-Life infomercial. Since there was nary a flake in the sky, I decided to take Ruby out for her daily run. Having a car with a mysteriously draining battery is somewhat like having a dog that must be walked everyday. I tooled around the greater Shakopee area listening to Justin Townes Earl talk about “Can’t Hardly Wait” and his clothes on The Current.
Upon arriving home, the snow began to fall and I retired to the La-Z-Grrl and a documentary about Truman Capote. He said “southern fags are the meanest fags.” Also, he went on a lot of talk shows totally drunk. It makes me wonder when literary writers stopped being semi-celebrity talk show guests. Or are they still and I just have no idea? Dear Conan, I would like to be a semi-celebrity writer talk show guest. Call me.
I did some other stuff that I can’t remember now, a few hours later. Some of it involved downloading, looking at, and watching 172 photos and videos from Ziggy, most of them taken by The Tibbles. Also, I watched Elaine Showalter on BookTV talking about The Vintage Book of American Women Writers. This was depressing so I went upstairs to read Swamplandia! and nap. But not before confessing to the Internet via Twitter that while reading I sing a song about the book that places the title of the book into The Decemberists’ song “O Valencia!”
After a few chapters I took a short nap followed by a long, hot soak in the tub while listening to How To Say Goodbye In Robot. After moisturizing, I descended the stairs to find Christa’s post lamenting the end of personal blogging and begging for an entirely too much information post about someone’s day. Currently I am typing this, watching “The Amazing Race” and waiting for my Hasselback Potato to finish because I’m hungry.
Orange you glad Christa asked?
P.S. I totally switched tenses midpost and went back to correct it and think I got them all. But I can’t guarantee it.
P.P.S The potato was divine and I ate with a sandwich that had onions on it and now my breath is so bad that you can probably smell it. If I breathe too hard I might melt Enid’s screen.