Gladly would he learn, and gladly speech

Well, I'm pulling this York stuff together for Quinn, and it looks to be really fun. I'm also hoping to take it to SEMA this fall--which means I should probably get that abstract sent off soon. I meet with Quinn to discuss abstracts this week, and once that's done, hopefully I'll go ahead and send the blasted thing off. Of course, I should probably also write the paper. That would be good.

I'm thinking of dusting off the conference version of Masculinites in Question and maybe sending the abstract to the Leeds Conference people. I don't have a chance in hell of getting in, but it should be fun nevertheless--and imagine if I did get in. . . . Mmm. . . Britian. If I did get in, I'd have to start buying currency NOW so it's not $500 to the pound like it will be in 2006. I need to start playing the game, though, which means kicking my way toward that House of Fame:

They gonne doun on knees falle
Before this ilke noble quene,
And seyde, 'Graunte us, lady shene,
Ech of us, of thy grace, a bone!'
And somme of hem she graunted sone,
And somme she werned wel and faire;
And somme she graunted the contraire
Of hir axing utterly.
-- Geoffrey Chaucer, The House of Fame III.1534-41

In the immediate future, however, I've also got a paper to write for Booker on Iron Council, and some kind of paper for Cohen that should also be worked on, erm, real soon. I did get an outline up for the Booker paper, but I may have to block off a week of solid research to get both of those going soon. Yay for Spring Break, in which I will rest, fix the car, visit my folks and my other folks, and not get a damn thing done.

No other real news. I'm kind of woozy still from Liam and Jessica's "Wine and Cheese Snob Party" yesterday, and I have a minor headache that may be dehydration and may be sinuses (the weather was 70*F yesterday, and is roughly 43*F today--with Snow expected by tomorrow evening). *sigh*


Blue Monk

So, what can I say, but it's been a long time. This weekend has been especially capitalistic. For some reason I was knocking about on (An auction site which shall remain nameless) and bid on a few Ipods, all of which were underbid from me in a span of microseconds. That set off a reaction involving those free-ipod sites (especially since they're offering the photo-Ipod now), which turn out to be all above-board and legal except that they want you to a) sign yourself up for evil junk-mail; b) want you to refer ten (count 'em--as if I had that many enemies) friends to the site, and then they have to sign themselves up for spam. I just don't want an Ipod bad enough to jeopardize my relationship with ten people.
I finished Mrs. Dalloway today (London Lit); it's a bear to read, but it's both a modernist novel and stream-of-consciousness. I'm not a fan of stream-of-consciousness novels (not that you'd believe it reading this). My own thoughts are hard enough to deal with on a daily basis; I don't need other people's thrown into the mix. I also graded a few exams and have started Orwell's Keep the Aspidistra Flying, which looks to be funny. It also starts with the main character complaining about the small amount of coin in his pocket, which made me realise once again that I don't have specimins of shillings (1/-), happence (.5d), or threpence (3d), and sent me back to the auction site for the odd experience of paying money for money that's not money any mon- er, more.
I should probably get back to "work," especially since I need to figure out what I'm doing tomorrow. I leave you with this:
"Jesus MUST be Mormon--look how many brides he has!"

Good night, Mrs. Calabash--wherever you are!