Thursday, March 31, 2011


I won two more poetry awards from Hollins University, but so did half of my writing class.
Here's the publication

I've been put on bed-rest all week with reflux. First I was reading Nabokov, but it just made me sad.
"I was an infant when my parents died./ They both were ornithologists. I've tried/ so often to evoke them that today/ I have a thousand parents." - From the first Canto of Nabokov's Pale Fire.

Not exactly heart-warming.

So I had a Woody Allen marathon. But formulaic, Jewish humor doesn't cure everything. Going to the doctor with a driver I don't know today. Just one of the downsides of living at a boarding school.

I didn't get into NYU's summer program for film. But they told me I could go to the same program in Singapore (with no scholarship). Sure, NYU. Sure.

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