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| Well, it's finally coat weather. It's a welcome change. I just looked at a calendar yesterday and realized that I will be back in Oklahoma for Thanksgiving break in less than 3 weeks. In light of these two facts, I present you now--reader--with a passage:
"One of my most vivid memories is of coming back west from prep school and later from college at Christmas time. Those who went farther than Chicago would gather in the old dim Union Station at six o'clock of a December evening with a few Chicago friends already caught up into their own holiday gayeties to bid them a hasty goodbye. I remember the fur coats of the girls returning from Miss This or That's and the chatter of frozen breath and the hands waving overhead as we caught sight of old acquaintances and the matchings of invitations: 'Are you going to the Ordways'? the Herseys'? the Schultzes'?' and the long green tickets clasped tight in our gloved hands. And last the murky yellow cars of the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railroad looking cheerful as Christmas itself on the tracks beside the gate.
When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. We drew in deep breaths of it as we walked back from dinner through the cold vestibules, unutterable aware of our identity with this country for one strange hour before we melted indistinguishably into it again.
That's my middle-west--not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns but the thrilling, returning trains of my youth and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow. I am part of that, a little solemn with the feel of those long winters, a little complacent from growing up in the Carraway house in a city where dwellings are still called through the decades by a family's name...
Even when the East excited me most, even when I was most keenly aware of its superiority to the bored, sprawling, swollen towns beyond the Ohio, with their interminable inquisitions which spared only the children and the very old--even then it had always for me a quality of distortion..."
I don't know who actually uses xanga anymore, but for those who do--let's hang out while I'm home. | | |
| It's late, and I can't sleep, so I'm writing on xanga for the first time in over 10 months.
I kind of miss xanga. Back when everyone used it, I felt like I was a little more involved in my friend's lives, even when I hadn't seen them in a while.
Everyone should check out this trailer: http://www.apple.com/trailers/fox_searchlight/thedarjeelinglimited/trailerb/
I am super pumped for this movie. I really want to try to go to the New York Film Festival to see the premiere. I've been thinking about my family a lot lately, and I think that the way I view family is a lot similar to the way that Wes Anderson does, so this movie's coming along at the perfect time for me. I secretly wish that no one else will find out about this movie, and I can just go into an empty theater and watch it by myself on opening night, but I know that won't happen. With most of my favorite works of art, I want everyone to know about it, but I want to be able to pretend that it only exists for me at the same time.
DFest was awesome. I shamefully admit that I didn't see that many bands, but I think I really just wanted to go for the atmosphere. I like festivals because there's always this feeling of camaraderie, even though there's usually this looming feeling that some corporate bigwig puppetmaster is behind the whole thing. It was just cool to go to something like that, then get in my car and drive away and realize that I was in Tulsa the whole time. Maybe it's not such a bad place, after all.
Today, I was running around Tulsa buying shoelaces and gloves for this article the Tulsa World is doing about the upcoming tax-free weekend. I felt kind of like Elaine in that episode of Seinfeld where she's going all over Manhattan trying to find a pair of socks for Mr. Pitt. It was the first time I've really felt like an intern since I've been at the Tulsa World. Oh well. Hopefully I'll be writing something tomorrow.
Speaking of which, it's pretty late, and I should go to sleep.
Max | | |
| So it doesn't seem like too many people use anymore, but for those who do, I'm making a new post.
This summer was probably the best time of my life. I saw a lot of awesome places and met a lot of cool people. I have a lot of cool stories, more than I want to take the time to write about on here, but if you're interested, maybe we can share stories over coffee sometime.
I'm back at Yale now. It's been really great so far. I missed school more than I thought I would. I like my classes for the most part, although I feel like I'm not taking enough classes this semester, so I want to try to write a lot, both for the newspaper and for my own enjoyment. I also plan on going on some trips. For example, I'm going to Boston on November 11th with some friends from camp this summer to see Bob Dylan. I also really want to go to Acadia National Park, which is about 400 miles from here, and I plan on making some trips to NYC and various hiking, camping, and climbing trips. My suitemates are all really cool, and so are a lot of other people here whom I've been hanging out with. I guess that's about it for now.
Oh, I saw Regina Spektor last night and she was fantastic.
Also, if you're interested, here is an album review that I wrote. | | |
| Joe and I leave for camp tomorrow. We'll be there until August 12th. If you want to send mail, the address is:
Skylake Yosemite Camp
37976 Road 222
Wishon, CA 93669 | | |
| This is going to be a good summer, and I want everyone to be a part of it. | | |
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