So, this morning I slept until 11, had a bath, read *fiction*, meandered up the road, paid off the lay-by on my new bookshelf, did some vegie shopping, had brekky at Garths while reading *fiction*, came back home just as the bookshelf was being delivered, put the Beatles on full bore and started cleaning the flat.
My mind is still periodically going over sentences in the thesis… I’m hesitant about having said the framework is cultural materialism, even though I can see that it kind of is. I just don’t particularly want to be a cultural materialist, I would have preferred to do a more Deleuzian analysis but it didn’t work out that way. While cleaning up, I found something I was searching and searching for three weeks ago, the clippings file of the articles and letters to the Jewish Times about the Stars of David Come Out Mardi Gras float, kindly sent to me by the editor Vic Alhadeff, which I had meant to include and analyse, but I couldn’t find them and so they’re not in there and nor is a thanks to Vic.
It’s not a disaster, just annoying. I can now do an analysis of them as a paper coming out of the thesis for some conference some time.
Yesterday, it hadn’t really sunk in that the thesis was over until I went into a bookshop and started browsing the paperbacks and suddenly realised I was allowed to read fiction again. I was just suffused with this glow of joy and had to smile. I bought Pattern Recognition by Gibson and am loving it already.
Then frou_frou and dr_zero and I went to see Troy which was every bit as laughable as I’d heard but gorgeous to look at. Oh boy, Orlando and Brad’s sheened naked torsos, cut off just above that channel in the hip that leads down into untold delight, my favourite spot on a man. So sexy.