In which Lady Z returns, briefly, and leaves her readers to The Dead.

How strange: I seem to have taken an inadvertent hiatus from procrastinating for the second half of February. I have been busy, folks—reviewed a book, finished an article, wrote a conference paper, attended two conferences (one in Auburn, AL, the other in New Orleans), all the while teaching, writing recommendation letters, reviewing applicants to two different graduate programs, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Now I’m grading a pile of exams, writing more recommendation letters, planning my graduate seminar for tomorrow, and getting to work on both another article and a book chapter.

But that’s not what you come here to read about.

So what have I got to say for myself extracurricularly? Auburn was fun; New Orleans was funner. I ate no fewer than two dozen raw oysters in my time there. Half of those were shucked for me, one by one, by the self-proclaimed “Baddest Shucker on Bourbon,” who continually yelled, “YOU KNOW ME! I WAS ON CNN!” as he worked. I drank a hurricane. I danced in a jazz club. I ran out of money. Huzzah.

Last night D showed two amazing Jean Renoir films at Girl & a Gun: The River (1951) and The Golden Coach (1953). Stunning, both of them. D and I were the only ones there. People have no idea what’s good. Oh well.

I am still totally, completely, and utterly sick of this stupid cast on my stupid arm. It’s supposed to come off a week from today, and I plan to bitch about it until it does. I dreamt last night that I figured out how to squeeze out of it and I felt very clever indeed.

That’s really all I can muster right now. I realize that I’m not very entertaining when my head’s in my work, so I leave you with some poetry and animation culled from the internet and sent my way by a star student:

4 thoughts on “In which Lady Z returns, briefly, and leaves her readers to The Dead.

  1. People have no idea what’s good.

    oh, sweetie, if this still surprises you, you are far more optimistic than I initially thought.

    (I wonder how many would’ve showed up for The Rules of the Game? At least three or four– dozen!– people in the entire state must’ve heard of it…)

    • You are so psychic. I was planning on posting Garfield Minus Garfield today. It is my new favorite thing.

      No shame in loving poetry. Poets, maybe, but not poetry.

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