The venue: The Raven Lounge in Philadelphia, not far from Rittenhouse Square. A scene for unlikely juxtapositions: downstairs, you’ll find board games, and upstairs, a stripper pole.
Summer is a season of midnight. At least that’s how it feels to me. No matter how much sun I soak up it is night and night alone that gives Summer it’s special feeling of (sorry to the strict Lacanians) jouissance, a kind of pleasure-in-defiance.
Among some of my oldest relatives, there’s a custom of recording weddings gifts given and received in order to ensure that no family is left feeling cheated.
I have been reading Italo Calvino’s Cosmicomics at a speed that indicates I must be reading dot by dot.
While my graduate writing program at UofM is on break for the summer, I’ve adopted Chicago as my temporary home.