The weekend before this last one I went to ICFA. Roomed with nihilistic-kid, grabbed breakfast at Denny's with Jim Kelly, met various interesting people, and listened to some papers. A good time was had by all.
Since getting back, I've been grading papers, watching "The Wire" on DVD, teaching, writing, hanging out, getting caught up on some MFA stuff, and reading "Less Than Zero" by Bret Easton Ellis. So far, this is my favorite paragraph of the book:
"The psychiatrist I see during the four weeks I’m back is young and has a beard and drives a 450 SL and has a house in Malibu. I’ll sit in his office in Westwood with the shades drawn and my sunglasses on, smoking a cigarette, sometimes cloves, just to irritate him, sometimes crying. Sometimes I’ll yell at him and he’ll yell back. I tell him that I have these bizarre sexual fantasies and his interest will increase noticeably. I’ll start to laugh for no reason and then feel sick. I lie to him sometimes. He’ll tell me about his mistress and the repairs being done on his house in Tahoe and I’ll shut my eyes and light another cigarette, gritting my teeth. Sometimes I just get up and leave."