I'm supposed to be working on my final project for Music of the Western World.

Kristen and I are doing French art song in the romantic era- we're going to do a mini-lecture on the poets (LaHors, Verlaine...) and then perform some Debussy and Faure.

If I can re-learn it quickly enough, I might even do Duparc's "Extase," which is all about that feeling of calm and desperate clinging one gets while lying in the arms of their lover after "the little death." Which makes it the third song about orgasms in my current repetoire.

Kyle and I went through my new Bellini piece today, and it seems to be shaping up rather well. I'm pleased.

But anywho- I've been going and adding new friends and communities to my journal- people who catch my eyes, or have interesting lives that I'd like to listen about. People that like to live life.

... and now, it's time to work on the outline. *sigh*

But: on the to-do list... re-do my layout now that I have a paid account. Somthing bright, airy, springtime-y.

( I may use this picture of me...Collapse )

So. I'm missing my first class. The power went out overnight, and my alarm didn't go off.

I was woken up by a much worse sound than my alarm.

My mother.

Mom: Are you coming home for Easter?
Me: Mom, I work Saturday night. (until 2 am)
Mom: *dramatic sigh* Well, if you don't want to, don't worry about it.
Me: No, I do want to. If you want to pick me up for Easter dinner, I'd love to come.
Mom: *disgruntled* Nevermind. Why aren't you in class?
Me: *realizing there was no power* Crap.
Mom: Well get up. It's 10 'o clock. I have to go.
Me: Oh wait- question. My boss needs to know my meal plan for next year. (I'm an RA, and I get an apartment with a kitchen next year, which means I don't need a meal plan, but I proposed that I get a 90 meal plan and get the rest in cash for groceries.)
Mom: Christina, I have two other children and a business to run. I don't have a thousand dollars to give you. Blah blah selfish blah blah blah.

She doesn't get that that money is already mine. My job pays for room and board, and if I get a smaller meal plan , it only means that more money is forwarded into my account. And I never asked for a thousand dollars. Just grocery money. $60 a month. Which is comparably less than a months' worth of meal plans.

My mother. Don't you just want to love her to bits?

Then, as to spite me, as soon as I hung up, the power came on.

So, I bought and read Nymph, the new book of erotica by Francesca Lia Block. I have to say, I liked it very much. Her characters aren't incredibly realistic, but that's half the point-- just like her young adult stories, every story in this book deals with magic, wether it be supernatural or more of the everyday sort.

The sex is handled quite the same way, ultimately more sensual description than graphic-- although she really likes "pussy" to describe girls' naughty bits, and that has never been my favorite words for female anatomy. Come to think of it, there aren't any good words for it. "Pussy" seems a little sexist to me, "vagina" too clinical, and "cunt" kind of brutal. I've got enough PWP writers on this list- what words do you use? At any rate, her use of language is mostly exquisite, and so detailed that it's easy to imagine yourself behind the characters' eyes (or in their beds).

My favorite stories were "Spirit," about a girl's return from depression, and "Nymph," the sole lesbian story in the book. I think that one of the most interesting thing is that all nine stories intertwine in some way, with shared characters and places. My favorite character was Plum, a girl with a paradoxical "gift of love"- after sleeping with someone, the other person almost immediately finds their true partner, and she is left alone. Of the few nitpicks I had, "Goddess" wasn't very well done, and the loose ends are never tied up.

So there it is- my mini-review. Should you wish to pass a quiet evening alone in bed with unique characters, Nymph is pretty good.

I am going to attempt to create a custom LJ style with my nonexistant HTML skills. If my journal looks a little strange for a while, this is why.