...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Things Thinging It Up With Other Things, The Sequel

I went to see N-A read at one of the public libraries yesterday. Well worth it, if for no other reason than to hear him read a love letter to his taint in front of a handful of uncomfortable old people. He also read a poem he'd dedicated to me, which made me blush, but interestingly: I actually think the taint piece trumped it in sentimentality.

Thom Yorke's music makes me feel all SORTS of lusty.

I once farted in a college class while doing group-work. It was high-pitched and loud, enough so that the instructor did a double-take. And I hadn't seen it coming, so it surprised me as well. I blamed it on my shoe squeaking against the desk seat, but I belabored that fact SO much ("Omg--can you believe that my shoe made a noise against the seat that sounded SO exactly like a fart? I mean, I can't believe that. It's crazy! I mean how often does that happen where your shoe sounds exactly like a fart, you know? Madness!") that it made it all that more clear that I had farted. Had I just left it alone and not said anything, there surely would've been folks who thought, There's no way that crazy chick farted that loud--it must've been her shoe. But since I spent so much time DISCUSSING the fact that it was my shoe and the craziness of that fact, I might as well have written, Yeah I farted--what you gonna do about it on my forehead. I think of this event from time to time, wondering if the tale has ever graced the lips of a story-telling classmate in casual conversation. Fuck getting remembered for one's art. I'll always be remembered as "That nameless chick who farted in class." And that, my friends, is what life's all about.

And on that note of nostalgia, happy holidays everyone. I will be taking a blogging hiatus until the end of the year, so please don't think I've ditched you. I will return in a couple of weeks with hopefully even BETTER random taint and fart stories!



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