Latest Read

I've been posted up at home this past week, doin' my normal thing (reading books and watching movies) and enjoying the solitude of country livin' until I go back to DC (tomorrow). The last book I read had a really notable quote and extract that I wanted to share, and thus hopefully pick up this blog's ashes in time to reincarnate it for the summer.

Dave Eggers, in his first lengthy work of fiction, You Shall Know Our Velocity! (2002) speaks to the scatterbrained nature of this blog:

“Nothing was true. Nothing in the guidebook was true but the maps. Are maps true? Nothing else was true. The word fact could not exist. All facts changed on the way to the printer.” (321)

And now, this incredible paragraph that delves into the atmosphere of a middle school dance, and the psyche that accompanies it:

“This is the way of Champagne Snowball: First, a slow song. “Open Arms,” “(Here I Am) The One That You Love,” anything by Spandau Ballet. You scope, you choose, you find someone, you say these words: “Will you dance?” and then lead them to a spot crowded enough where you won't be easily seen. Put your skinny worthless arms, arms you've vowed you've to work on, around her waist, while she puts her arms around your wet neck. Everyone is already soaked from the fast songs, from Dean and Hand initiating an elaborate group-dance routine to the 5-4-3-2-1 Major Tom song, so expect your partner's back will be moist. She will smell of Sea Breeze. Her temples will drip onto your shoulder. Feel the heat of her chest against yours. Feel the heave. You will never know heaving like that again so soak in that heave. Put that heave into a small velcro pocket in the parachute pants of your soul. If she's as tall as you, and she probably is, move closer and set your face upon her hot cheek. When it gets too hot switch cheeks. Hope she won't ask you if you have a pen in your pocket while knowing it's not a pencil. Hope you don't pee. Why would you pee? You don't know. She will blow her face cool with her lower lip outstretched, her bangs floating briefly upward like banners tied to balconies. Know her hot chin on your hot shoulder, know her chest breathing into your chest. Wonder if she likes you in a making-out way. Wonder if you should (sexy!) or shouldn't (queer!) rub your woody against her inner thigh. Wonder where your friends are. Wonder what time it is. How much time is left—you needed more time! See Jack dancing with Annmarie and roll your eyes. Watch him act offended and start to fake-cry. Laugh and when your partner asks what's funny say, “Oh, the comedy of life.” Feel the cooling of the sweat on your partner's back. Let your hands drop a little. Wonder if she'll be a good kisser.” (305-6)