Spinnovations

I missed the ugly sweater party, but I have to say, I think my sweater looked pretty kick ass! The German and I overdid on Saturday, and when 7:00 rolled around, we were too pooped. Anyway, I embellished my sweater by sewing on two doll heads that the German got me for Christmas - Diana Ross and Cheryl Tiegs - and I placed them in the mouths of the leopard and tiger appliqués adorning my 1980s ladies sweater. It was a “Victoria Harbour” design. The theme of my sweater was "survival of the fittest.” It also had giant ill-fitting shoulder pads. Don’t worry, I’m still gonna wear it one of these days.

Where am I now? The fucking reference desk. What day is it? Fucking Sunday. Why am I here? Because I have to fucking be here. What should I be doing? Working on my Women's Studies stuff, prepping for classes this week, updating the VRD, ordering books. What am I really doing? Writing this blog entry. Did I walk here like a sane person would in the umpteen inches of snow? No, I fucking drove, like a complete buffoon ‘cause I was feeling lazy. Are there people here tonight? You better fucking believe it. Sappy young students, reeking of booze, togged up in PJs with agitated expressions - all “working” on their assignments and writing on their friends’ walls. But there is one gleaming light to being here right now - that beautiful young male student who has been hanging out in the Library for at least the last four years. I’ve been crushed out on him for a long time. Snap! And of course I didn’t take a shower, I have some stupid fucking hat on because my “winter hair” hat is missing and it is FREAKING ME OUT, I have a giant zit on my lip, I smell like dried cum, and I’m wearing my Wishbone t-shirt with an angry dog on the front. Dang it!

Nikolaj Hubbe danced his farewell performance with the New York City Ballet the other day. That is completely miserable news. He was so beautiful. Jesus. He performed Apollo and some hideous Peter Martins ballet (okay, someone tell me why Martins’ stuff is so shitty? Seriously. I think I liked Calcium Light Night, which was his first shot at choreography back in 1979, and since then it’s been like a series of stupid center ballet class combinations just thrown together with inappropriately chosen music. Balanchine must be rolling around in his grave wishing he hadn’t left him at the helm. Wretched). Anyway, Nikolaj was breathtaking on stage. I’m sad he retired.

So, what are you cheeseheads going to do on Tuesday? You’re going to vote for Obama – ‘cause he’s creamy, dreamy and delicious!!!!!!!!!!!!