After much prodding and pleading, my mom finally said yes to Chicago! This makes me incredibly happy. This means in two weeks there will be Christmas, Peter time in Chicago, then back to Carleton to be reunited with my lovely Lily and Kaitlin-a-tron! I think I can remain relatively sane for the next two weeks. Hopefully I will get more (non-sick?) Aubrey time, Bre bonding, Spanish re-studying, movie watching, and get some reading in.

I realized I never posted about the amazing Decemberists concert, so now, a month or so later, I will do so. My mom drove me, Aubrey, and Javier (the Aubrey boyfriend) to U of M to pick up the Peter. After some waiting…and waiting…Peter finally broke away from his Quizbowl tournament. We ate at the Hard Rock (mmm ribs! I love me some animal carcass!) and then waited in line at First Ave. There were even Carleton people in line near us :) The opening act was Alasdair Roberts, who was very Scottish. He sang Lyke Wake Dirge beautifully. Aubrey and Javier were on a separate side of the venue as Peter and I, so we got some video from different angles. There were tall people in front of us. . .

They opened with Crane Wife 3, and then July, July. And I say your uncle was a crooked French Canadian! Aubrey got most of We Both Go Down Together, which I now forever have in my memory Aubrey and Peter singing, on either side of me, as we walked down Division. Meet me on my vast veranda...my sweet untouched Miranda...

Poor Colin Meloy had the flu or something, so about halfway through the concert he had to take a short, uh, intermission. The band played a lovely rendition of “You are my Sunshine.” It was adorable. That song has a weird assosiation in my head, because my mom used to sing it to me all the time, but also, when I was in Barcelona, there were a bunch of Celtics fans singing in the Hard Rock, drunk off their asses, singing a football chant in the tune of "You are my Sunshine," but instead, the lyrics included "YOU FUCKING WAAANKER!" I miss Spain. Then the band polkaed for a bit until Colin returned.

I got the entire ending of The Island. The amp almost electrocuted Colin. We were happy it didn't. Finally, after a shortened set, they encored with Myla Goldberg. It was an amazing show, despite Colin's illness. I can only imagine a Decemberist's concert when he's not sick and throwing up! They would probably make my head explode.

Winter Break has been a bit dull without anyone to entertain me, but it is looking up, with Christmas approaching. I am going to try to get Bre to take me to see The Holiday tomorrow. I need some female chick flick bonding. I recently went to (yet another) Aerosmith concert. My mother is in love with Stephen Tyler and Joe Perry. It’s kind of creepy, but probably less creepy than my infatuation with David Bowie. What can I say--I inherited my mother’s old man love.



Oh, and what the hell is up with everyone I knew from high school getting engaged/married? Seriously. Stop freaking me out...

Hooray 19th Century dildos!

I am slowly making my way through the second season of Boston Legal and in episode 20, "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," a divorcing couple are fighting over possession of a Victoria Erotica collection. They fight for possession of the premiere piece of the collection: The Hysteria Machine. I found it fascinating, and hilarious. I think I would love to go to a sex museum. Someone should take me.

Here is some dialogue from the courtroom:

Shirley Schmidt: Could you tell us how the Hysteria Machine works?

Clifford Cabot: Women would frequently complain of symptoms such as nervousness, heaviness in the abdomen, vaginal lubrication, insomnia, and so on. Physicians referred to these symptoms as “hysteria,” but of course they were actually signs of sexual arousal. Before inventions such as this, the physicians would ‘massage’ a woman until she reached a climactic “paroxysm,” as they called it.

Shirley Schmidt: And how did this machine come into being?

Clifford Cabot: A doctor invented it because, well...his arms got tired.


Behold, the Hysteria Machine:



Oh those Victorians, the crazy buggers, treating female sexuality as an illness.
I miss having lewd suppertime conversation. I want to talk about pornography and masturbation and penises while I eat! It helps digestion. I'm not sure my family would appreciate it...

I finished Life of Pi today. It was pretty good, especially...the iiiiiisland. Mostly, I wasn't very motivated to read the book, I just wanted to finish it...so I sucked most of the pleasure out of it. However, I was amazed at how much could happen in the middle of the ocean, in a lifeboat...for 200 pages... god...

I would have gotten more out of it if I hadn't been skimming, but...I am done. *throws book in the corner* Actually, that's a lie. I placed it gently on the book shelf, and I liked it just fine. Now, if only I would finish One Hundred Years of Solitude, which I love (So much. It's amazingly written, and although I am only halfway through the novel, it is easily one of my favorite books), but haven't gotten around to picking back up. Oh magic realism, yer so crazy.

I ate a fortune cookie today. It read:

You will be rewarded for your hard work this past month. . .

. . .in bed. :D:D