<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d6876459\x26blogName\x3dub%C3%ABrch%C3%AEc\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://uberchic.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://uberchic.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-1554697223025970203', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

ubërchîc

/u:bæ∫Ik/[n] The greatest, most superlative of its kind;[n] Elegant and stylist;[n] amalgation of German-Franco lexicon, describing hypercool translinguistic supracultural phenomenon.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006
I think I know what I want for Christmas.

Friday, September 22, 2006
The Fray brings piano rock to the Yankees.

I think I'm getting comfortable in this poet's t-shirt.

But I don't believe I'm alone. Proton chemical shifts and Nyquist frequecies have to be memorised, so I'm happy to sacrifice the Saturday game where we faceoff Harvard.

Hopefully I can survive that to report about my lunch in Boston with the A*GA people.

Monday, September 11, 2006
I didn't really do much work this weekend. But then again, there wasn't (past-tense, noted) much stuff to study for in the first weekend of the semester.

So my guitar strap brought sand from Scarborough Beach back to my dorm, while the extra spacetime shoved itself onto Miller's mileage. (sorry I totally missed the 108 South junction.)

And my conscience got slightly (can I stress the slightness?) intoxicated with a bottle of beer as I watched She's the Man with a couple of (underaged, but sober) freshmen, post saltwater bathing and cafeteria dining.

But to hear our Crusade campus director say he got teary-eyed when he saw how the first-years (and the rest of us) were 'getting it' ("it" being the Great Commission), that reminded me of how church is bigger than a brickwalled building, so much more than Sunday, stretching farther than four-hour Friday-night gatherings.

Today, I realised my professor threw upon us 109 pages of 'required reading' for tomorrow's lecture. To which I say, "C'mon, it's stuff I should already know, with more than enough detail that your powerpoint refuses to cover." Besides, it's actually an uncorrected proof of another vision text.. with missing pictures and chapter references...

But between "spatial-temporal resolution of retinal neurons" and good 'ole Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons (see last post), my mind finds both right at the edges of enjoyable comprehension.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006
So on the first day of class, I went to my first poetry-writing class.

It was intriguing. The graduate student in charge threw upon us Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons.

I thought she was plain pretentious. Of course you can imagine my distaste when another guy/girl pipes up, "I find her compelling...I like her agenda...." I think only 2 other people admitted that they'd want someone to explain what the heck was going on.

Yes, I think I'm not going to do Ancient Greek this semester.