So.
Today I read "Brokeback Mountain." I bought a hardback copy from my school bookstore. It gives me joy.
And... well, WOW.
Can you say "breakdown"? Can you say curled up under a blanket in my study lounge crying after wandering out from my room so my roomate wouldn't ask me what was wrong? I looked a real crazy person, wandering around all wrapped in a blanket, hair wild fron hiding under it and eyes red.
It was definitely one of the most stike you dumb, knock you off your feet things I've read in a long, long while. It's still with me. Everytime I think of parts of it, those little things Proulx put in so carefully, it just overwhelms me. What an amazing piece of work.
I keep coming back to the shirts. That was such a great image, such a strong image, it said everything all at once.

I just watched the trailer for the movie again, and it made me cry, now that I know what all is behind it, the story. That movie is going to rip me apart, tear me limb-from-limb and then put me back again, feeling different.

Things like that, like the story, things that send sorrow and thought coursing through your body, leave you feeling so exhilerated and so odd, a little out of the loop and wonderful. It's strange and I like it.

( Now a musing that's about people and not the story )

I went to a great concert last night, An Albatross, they were intense screaming indiehardcore glory and sexy and awful and wonderful all at once and my ears rang for hours afterwards and still some today. The power of the music rushing through me felt so good.

I see Rufus on Friday. I'm quite excited, and for OKGo, too, because I really like them.

Lastly, I give you a picture.

My friend/hallmate/classmate Lisa took this today on the way to lunch. It's on Foss Hill, the big hill in the middle of our campus. That's me on the right; it looks like I am expounding upon something. The guy beside me is Max, one of my favorite people in the whole wide world.
This is very good friend named Max #3 for me; my preschool best friend and my elementary school best friend (who is still another of my favorite people in the world) were both named Max. As was my stepdad's best friend in childhood. They're good people, Maxes.
The weather was just gorgeous today, and I thought this picture was just too pretty not to share.