IN a fit of procrastinatory procrastination, I updated the sidebar. Some new links, more later if I remember, which I probably won't.

I'm one page-- ONE PAGE of conclusion away from letting the door hit the ass of this [expletive] [expletive] [welsh expletive] paper on its way out, after which I plan to spend my Christmas in denial. Hmmm... yummy, yummy denial.


So, before I go off and write some crap about relic cults and how women's bodies were seen by medieval clerics as meat-sacks of rotting demonic iniquity (that's a technical term), here's a little segment from today's Christmas decorating party with gals from High School.

(Instrumental music ends)
C: Tequila!
Everyone else: Huh?
C: Wasn't that the song that was playing?
A: C., that was "Frosty the Snowman".

Addenda: This is why we don't finish our papers at three in the morning.

I ALMOST (but I caught myself) wrote the sentence:

"Another fruitful line of inquiry would be to compare the affective writings about the saints of the early church—the only saints who appear in Christine’s work— with the devotional practices of female saints who lived closer to Christine’s own time, such as Catherine of Siena. Caroline Walker Bynum’s Holy Feast, Holy Fast, as well as Rudolph M. Bell’s Holy Anorexia, could provide much food for thought..."