Home For Not Much Longer

It interests me how the standards in 'quality' for writing and images are set up.  When writing is 'dirty' it's trash, no?  It's a trashy romance novel that people are ashamed to read, until one comes along that has a couple good reviews as well as a chapter that turns them on in just the same way.  Then photography - well, anyone can press a button while someone looks sexy, right?  But if that's the case, all photography and every claim it has to 'art' status is invalid.  And why is Robert Mapplethorpe's work considered art, not just porn?  Because he was good, better than almost anyone else who took nude photographs or anything else in his vein of work.  He was skilled above them in the same way that the Pullitzer-winning writer is more adept at writing than the outcasts who publish those paperbacks.  But Robert Mapplethorpe and, oh, I don't know... Nabokov?  Or whoever it was that wrote Madame Bovary.... they weren't always great artists.  They must have started off as unskilled as the 'pornographers', they weren't born with their talents.  So when did their work become art - socially acceptable, intellectually prestigious - and not cheap kicks you keep under the mattress?  Because they have been recognized and legitimized as artists, is their pre-quality work 'art', too?  And if these great figures in culture were writing, photographing, painting, singing - somehow expressing - sex, then, goodness, they were certainly thinking about it.  Just like everybody else.  Because their expressions of sexuality are more valued, were their actual thoughts about sex also somehow more 'okay'?

No, this picture has nothing to do with what I've just said or what I'm about to say - I've got no clue what that is anyway. 

All right, tonight's exhausted perambulation stops there.  I am so ready to go back to school tomorrow.  This weekend has been great, totally indulgent on my part in so many ways, but I miss my routine and pretending to myself that I have the discipline to sit down and get something done.  His Girl Friday is the leading candidate for the highlight of the holiday just at present, though the food has been stellar as has seeing my friends, of course.  And the apple beignets....I'll get the recipe for those up soon, because they were heaven.  I am ready for snow cover for as long as I can fry doughnuts and watch films with sexy people I want to kiss my friends, either here or at school... but I'll take it back, I'm sure, after a couple weeks snowed into the dorm.  It's sure to happen soon.

I stay up so late on extended weekends.  I don't understand it, but I quite like being there for the margins in between days.  They're quiet and more interesting.  But why can't I bear to go to bed?!

Okay, this is going to be a ridiculous post, with no organization at all.  I have to write a bill for Youth In Government.  I don't know how to write a bill.  I don't know what to write a bill about.  Everyone else seems pretty clear on this... is it something I just missed out on, like algebra II or that memo explaining what all those internet shortcuts stand for (rofl, anyone?  I am at a loss)?