it's so good, being home. i've spent the past two weeks wacked out on surreality
in california. here, back, everything is chaos
and i've got lots to be angry and angsty about, but i know where i am. i remember who i am and what my options are and i have ways of effecting my life. i am not trapped in someone else's home in a big city
i understand in only the vaguest sense. i am phone calls and car trips and bus rides from everything i need for the new task of getting my shit together. for real this time.
my computer is heaven. after an imac with aol
, it's like the luxury bathrooms from snow crash
after junkie bar restrooms with bloody condoms in the corners. connection like forest fire. screen resolution like lying on your back in montana
. applications like a tenured mechanic's garage. input device precise as jewelers' pliers. sweetie, i love you. let's never be apart again.
the horrendously scheduled work meeting (read: midnight last night, the second i got back from the airport) is over and succeeded. my employees have their schedules and i have enough hours, finally, that if i can't stave off poverty for the next three months i deserve to be sent to a hell of doped up housewives with absent breadwinners and a poker deck of maxed out credit cards per capita
. the super-fabulous internship starts next week. my roommates are brave and wonderful girls and we all survived spring break
one last thing: barker's philosophy of mathematics
is the best academic book i've ever had the joy of reading. it's like fucking poetry
. i don't care if you hate math - you must at very least read the introduction sometime in your life. all the elegance and mystery of a topic that is so vast and can be perverted to be so dry and incomprehensible in the wrong hands
is conveyed within a scant hundred pages of the sparest prose possible. imagine a five-chapter haiku about math
. imagine sandra cisneros
writing about geometry and the rigors of formal logic. good god