Adlai, Adlai, what do you say?

That's right. Sufjan concert tomorrow night. I'll learn once and for all how he pronounces that name of his. I've been going with the y-sounding j lately, and that seems to garner less scorn. Apparently the concerts are lushly orchestrated and whimsical in a blow-up Santa sorta way. I'm, needless to say, thoroughly stoked.

In other, significantly less exciting news, I'm likely changing my thesis topic. Feminist translation theory, though rich in dry, ivory towerish readings, isn't really my cup of tea. I'm looking to explore something in the cultural studies realm (see also: I have the chance to read comics or watch movies and be damned if I don't take it. Lolly, I may very well join your ranks. But no Ware for me, he's too much of a downer. Maybe translations of R. Crumb, if I still want to get my translation on.) Staring down the barrel of a thesis that I already know I'm not interested in makes for a bit of academic malaise. Out with the old.

Vermont was fantastic. Mountainous. Loving. Full. (and a little drunk)









The social life returns, albeit slowly. Hijinks are in the works. no major cooking adventures lately. Just chicken stock and a damn fine steak. over-n-out.