God, I can not wake up today. Hung out at the Wrangler’s last night and watched the remake of the Amityville Horror. I have serious issues with all the remaking of classic films lately (possibly because I don’t believe the myth of eternal progress, but I digress). We watched the original Amityville last week–neither of us had seen it, which is just weird, because most of our time together in the past nearly-3-years has been spent watching horror movies. When I woke up at 3 am the night after seeing the original–and again the next night–absolutely cold with terror, I decided the movie was All Right By Me (since the test of a horror movie, as everyone knows, is not whether it’s at all scary when you watch it, but what happens when you wake up in the middle of the next night). The remake? Disappointing, but I managed to be consistently nice to the Wranglers and didn’t pick fights, so that’s noteworthy.

But today, eeesh. Just made the mistake of napping with two cats for an hour. What the hell was I thinking? Now I’m groggy and unmotivated, which is really, really bad, because remember all my anxieties about BigName CourseHead visiting my section last week? They’re all going to come true tomorrow instead. I have two sections–one in which I tend to stutter, stumble, and field some hostile glares, and the other in which I’m the life of the party, the hostess with the mostess, and every student gazes at me adoringly. Guess which section she’s visiting? Riiiiiight. So I should be obsessively preparing, and certainly not obsessively reading blogs. Oh no. Because that would be utterly self-sabotaging. Right?

But I don’t want to prepare. I dislike the readings, I think the writer the students are reading this week is trite and has written 12 books that are exactly alike, this course bores the hell out of me, and I’m tired of living in the no-man’s-land of the grad student. I want a smidgen of respect, dammit. I know–then go write your damn prospectus, Luckybuzz, and get the dissertation written and get yerself a job! I know. If only I could wake up today.

See, here’s what I really want to be doing: getting drunk early in preparation for this concert that I’m going to tonight. Don’t know who Devendra Banhart is? Quick, go over here and click “video”, for chrissakes. I’ll wait. Seriously, go now.

See? The last time I saw him live, I said to myself, “Luckybuzz, this is the closest you’ll ever get to what it must have been like to see Janis/Jimi/Jim Morrison/T Rex/David Bowie way back in the day when everyone was high and groovy and electric.” There was a bottle of wine being passed around between the audience and the band and as the wine went around and around the music got funkier and funkier and I was stone cold sober and felt like I was tripping. In a really, really good way. So I’m going to see him tonight, with Gospel Bob, Blanche, the Squirrel & his friend, and Buttercup. Bartender! Shots of tequila all around!

Okay. Maybe I’ll prep just a little first.

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