It feels just like making love, to the....camearaaaa.

I got my action today, I was pleased.
But I'll get to that later.

The Men, Women, and Children show was amazing. It was all around a lot of fun. Every band that played was amazing, even the bands I haven't heard of (We Are The Fury and We Now Have Audio). Bedouin Soundclash was great too, except for the douche bag behind us that thought he was so cool because he kept talking to the band onstage (mind you, there weren't a lot of people there. Another downfall to this was the fact that at a McDonald's on the way home we got into a fender bender in the drive-thru. No big deal, but it was aggravating because we were so tired, but in any case everyone is ok.

So now to the good action:
We got to write ekphrastic poetry in English 307 today, meaning we got to look at art and write poetry based on it. The Rowe Art Gallery was our classroom today and there were some interesting pieces of artwork, but by far the most interesting piece was a T.V. with an old ragged chair planted in front of it. So I was naturally drawn to it and so I sat down in the chair after searching the rest of the art hallways and galleries. The chair was much more comfortable than it looked. While the steel was a bit rusted and the arm rest was a bit ripped it almost looked fake, because on the arm rest where it was ripped you could see the cloth and it had what seemed to be a coffee stain. For some odd reason it seemed to me that this chair was "made" if you will, like someone had bought this chair in order to simply fuck it up.
The main focus was the television which featured three separate videos. The first was called "7 Seconds in the Life of Andrew Martin." It was a stop motion film showing the artist's daily routine. While the film was not actually 7 seconds, it was still very interesting to see how this artist viewed his life. The second film was called "A Year:By an American." It was another stop motion film, but this one was a flip-a-day desk calendar and showed it flipping through the year. The whole video was almost like a confession. This guy Andrew Martin apparently made some promises and resolutions, but contradicted them by saying something else. The third and final film was called "Knife" and it was documenting the life of the kitchen cutting knife.

All the films were interesting and I was absolutely captivated for some reason. I wrote a three part poem, one part for each film and when I was done I went to class.

While my next class wasn't all that interesting, my teacher for English 255 did say "fuck" four or five times in a row. He read a New York Times Book Review of one of the books we are going to be reading for class. He was so pissed that he put his head on the desk, stood up and said

"This guy is pretty much saying fuck Shakespeare, fuck Joyce, fuck Austen,
and fuck Kipling. Who does this guy think he is? People like that should be
shot out of a cannon into a field of alligators and cacti."

I was so happy when he started cursing, it's exactly what I was looking for.

So I was tempted not to go to Psychology today because of the fact that I had no idea about what we were going to talk about. The only redeeming quality of it was that we were laughing about the way people described their individual stories of experiences with people with mental illness. While we weren't laughing at the people with the illnesses, we were laughing at the way people tried to be politically correct, but made their stories the most politically incorrect things ever.