Today:
So I woke up around 7: 30, 15 minutes before my alarm, which has to be one of the most annoying things in the world. Then I went for a run. Which is actually a lot worse than it sounds because were in possibly the hilliest part of the world. We had a beautiful breakfast of eggs, spinach, and fruit. After that we went to the Oak View Room and had a beautiful discussion with Professor Abernathey of Stanford University. Basically it was all about different definitions of devolopment and how they were enacted. Then we had director of international development from North Western speak to us, followed by a game played with all the fellows. I got to talk to Mrs. Heather, Mrs. Dana, and Caroline today which made my day! After dinner we got to meet the board members, which was pretty freaking intimidating. One of them was part of the Diraper Richards Foundation, one the CFO of Gap (who paints his daughters nails), one from NY who worked in the Clinton white house and organized the understudy program for secretaries, and Mr. Clayton, a fellow Carolina graduate from Raleigh (Broughton). Currently nine of the fellows are residing in Alec & Michaels room litterally acting like fools. We just talked about wild interpretations of dreams, how we're attracted to different people, slam poetry, the forever iconic Lolita, and a couple of unspeakable things. We also had a salsa lesson from Zuleika in the hallway, which turned into a mix of the stanky leg and an all around jam fest. Who is Wallace Stevens? Okay, off to the Diary. Love you all.
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Who is Wallace Stevens?? Ack!
ReplyDelete"The Emperor of Ice Cream"
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be the finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.
(Wallace Stevens, 1879-1955, poet and lawyer)
My favorite of his poems is still "The Man with the Blue Guitar," but it's too long to type here. Of, and "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" rocks.
I love you bunches!
--h