Startup Struggles and Goddess' Mixup
Sep. 4th, 2002 08:12 amWell, I'm trying to get the name of this little site o' mine changed, but haven't been able to figure it out on my own, yet.
As it is, I found that the poem I was trying to reference was not the one dear Potch linked me to, but The Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne,
No wonder mom raised her eyebrows when she thought I'd fallen in love with a strange little poem called the The Garden of Persephone by Some Guy
I'm glad we were able to clear that right up. . . and we'll see if I managed to put the links in correctly.
Boy, am I green or what?
Ha. Check that, I'm less green now than I was five minutes ago! Shweet! All hail Potch, my bud.
I figure, while I'm at it, I may as well share with you my other favorite poem in the whole-wide-world. Although The Garden of Proserpine struck my poetic fancy when I was a little girl, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock found me when I was in high school.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening. . . "
Gives me chills every time I read it. Try reading it aloud to yourself - feel those words on your tongue. I dare you to not be affected by it in someway.
On the lighter side of life, it's Wednesday - so what? So DONUTS, baby! I'm going to get myself a sweet fried confection, pour some coffee, and get down to the scientific business of my day.
Love and a Happy Day to all who visit here :-)
As it is, I found that the poem I was trying to reference was not the one dear Potch linked me to, but The Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne,
No wonder mom raised her eyebrows when she thought I'd fallen in love with a strange little poem called the The Garden of Persephone by Some Guy
I'm glad we were able to clear that right up. . . and we'll see if I managed to put the links in correctly.
Boy, am I green or what?
Ha. Check that, I'm less green now than I was five minutes ago! Shweet! All hail Potch, my bud.
I figure, while I'm at it, I may as well share with you my other favorite poem in the whole-wide-world. Although The Garden of Proserpine struck my poetic fancy when I was a little girl, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock found me when I was in high school.
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening. . . "
Gives me chills every time I read it. Try reading it aloud to yourself - feel those words on your tongue. I dare you to not be affected by it in someway.
On the lighter side of life, it's Wednesday - so what? So DONUTS, baby! I'm going to get myself a sweet fried confection, pour some coffee, and get down to the scientific business of my day.
Love and a Happy Day to all who visit here :-)
(no subject)
=o)
And now to get all Cliff Clavin on you here...
You signed off with: Love and a Happy Day to all who visit here
DID YOU KNOW: That Happy Days, the TV show, was originally an episode of another, early 70's TV show called Love American Style? The episode was called "Love And The Happy Day"?
What a coincidence!
(no subject)
Date: September 4th, 2002 07:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Dude, I hope the science gods (almost typed 'goats' there... fitting) are smiling on you, but i'm their farkin' fool today, that's for damn sure.
wonder what happens when fruit flies sit at 40 degrees (C, not F) for god knows how long...
A
(no subject)
Date: September 4th, 2002 04:37 pm (UTC)In my world, that's called "heat-shocked", then "fried"
As it happens, I went home early for a nap today, as I couldn't manage to keep myself awake.
Now I'm about to start a mating and then head back home. . . I dare all you non-micro folks out there to figure out what THAT means. I'll give you a hint: I'm not gettin' any.
*snif*