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Damn, I just made a beautiful dinner!

Cornmeal-fried flounder, what amounts to Mexican fasoulakia (with jalapenos, onions, roasted tomatoes and cumin seed- yum!), black beans mashed with green chiles and chopped guac.
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You know it's working cos I start writing in alliteration: "the perverse property of particular populations," fuck.
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1) beautiful sunny fall day
2) dog run
3) coffee with cream
4) decoupage (found blank hardback notebook on the next block over, turned into 7-pointed star assignment book)
5) allurement
6) later: gym, readings, csa, dinner-cookin', new year

eta:
the book came out so pretty ) I almost don't wanna use it for what I'd intended.
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I am sitting outside on Amesterdam flying high on caffeine reading Specters of Marx thinking about time and justice and neo-liberal neutralization of the past, body buzzing. It's springtime finally and earlier I was reading in the nook of my new semi-secret tree in Morningside. Now, if only I could notate all 4 Derrida books I've got in my bag by the end of the afternoon and get the outline done tomorrow. Failing that, something close.
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Reading David Abram on the train today made me wonder what forces am I out of balance with? what's causing this sadness? )

* * *
And then last night picking through the rapidly-wilting greens to make a salad, I remembered that as one of my least favorite kitchen tasks, picking through the huge plastic sacks of mesclun that go so quickly and smell so foul. Picking through with my little nimble fingers I realized, I don't *make* anything in my job. ) Immaterial indeed.
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"Endurance," writes Rosi Braidotti, "is also an ethical principle of affirmation of the positivity of the intensive subject, or in other words its joyful affirmation as potentia." And then, I swear to G-d, Iggy Pop comes on the radio singing about his lust for life with that bopping AEGD throb. I think my thesis is diverging significantly from the outline I made a couple months ago, but what's most promising is that the threads I seem to be pulling out were there all along and my focus is sharpening, however slowly.

Even though it's been dark for 3 hours and it's cold, I'm settling into it. Sweatshirt and slippers and an unopened can of diet Coke to my left, fuel for the next few hours and note-taking and, G-d willing, writing. Write write writing.

And how are you all, barely more than a month away from midwinter?

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