Predictably, whenever I watch Julie and Julia I feel hella-inspired (yeah, this English PhD student just used "hella" in a non-ironic way)to blog more. And to cook more. But here's the thing about cooking more. I live in a very poorly ventilated apartment, and it is 97 degrees outside with a heat index of up to 112 degrees--for the next not one, not two, not three--but possibly six days. And I'm a poor grad student--who just booked an awesome trip to Boston, but more on that in a moment--and thus cannot afford to blast the air conditioning whenever I feel "inspired" to bake a peach pie, or pear bread, or Boeuf Bourguignon. So, perhaps the cooking inspiration will simply have to wait until the Iowa weather decides to chill out. And I had such ambition for what I was going to do in the kitchen once I had the time! Perhaps I ought to say that I will do these amazing things in the kitchen when I have a kitchen of reasonable size. Which, incidentally, will be in... 14 days. I move in two weeks!
....Oh shit I have a lot of packing to do before then! Robert has been utterly amazing, bringing unwanted boxes home from the pharmacy for me to stuff with, well... all of my stuff. And believe me, there is a lot of it. My mum is in town until Thursday, and we'll probably get a bit of packing done while she's here. She promised to help me fill the holes I put in the wall for all of my posters.
Did I mention that it's really hot in central Iowa these days? I thought I moved, you know, further from the equator. Closer to The North Pole. Ugh.
But in most exciting news, Robert and I are going to Boston! I'm not entirely sure how I am going to afford it. But the plane tickets are purchased, and the bed and breakfast booked! I'm already planning which books I want to a) take on the trip and b) seek at used bookshops. I want to hit up the modern art museum (free admission on Thursdays!), eat fresh seafood, and just... generally exist--just be--in a place that is not Iowa City. Don't get me wrong--I do like it here in Iowa City. It beats the hell out of Conway, Arkansas, right? But when I'm here, I feel this constant obligation to be working. I associate this town with school, with academic work, and thus, in a manner of speaking, with stress. It should be wonderful to escape and to relax.
(On an interesting and related note, I also should probably make some significant progress towards my Adrienne Rich paper. I'm less than halfway through What is Found There, her notebooks on politics and poetry. I need to inhale that and reacquaint myself with Levinas by the end of this upcoming week...)
I'm never taking an Incomplete again.