Monday, January 18, 2016


ultimate decadence, in this time of so much (well, always of course) sadness, strife, and struggle -- not Mein Kampf or even "My STruggle," about which so many people here are asking why didn't Knausgaard call it mein kampf in the English translation -- um.. I think I see why not --
anyway, when I get up, as I do two or three times a night to read something or other, I have a nip of rum or Punt y mes or vodka with something or other, and peanuts, I am wild about peanuts and THEN I don't have to take a sleeping pill which often I do

that is decadence and so is praline crunch ice cream by Baskin Robbins which I am so happily addicted to

so I am slogging along at my Simply Woolf for the simply series, ebooks and not you now, those real books with corners and things and pages and am waiting to see if Pascal: A Critical Life meets with the publisher's approval, and am writing reviews of art exhibitions and so on in this really delightful time called January (first snowfall here today in New York!) before I start teaching in  February for my last semester, because instead of teaching my film course in the fall, I think I will just step down or up or out or wherever one steps

BECAUSE I forgot even the name of Woodstock! that is very bad
and yes, we lament Bowie's death immensely, what elegance he had!
and Matthew my son, as in Nadasurf, just got engaged, and that is delightful,
so now, without further ado or decadence, I will hie me off to bed, although it isn't even one or two and it is usually about three when I get up and then up again

this way I feel I have lots more time in  my life than if I slept all night

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