After reading Emily Bergenzer's about me section on facebook, I felt the need to update. However, I can't say that I have any direction in what I'm about to say.
Well, for one thing, last night was Haley's wedding rehearsal, and she looked absolutely amazing. She had told me she'd be wearing gold(!?) so I almost vomited, but as it turns out, "gold" means somewhere between an auburn and a bronze, and it looked great on her (she's a red head). I was also the 2nd-3rd hottest guy there out of the wedding party and family members, so that was a pleasant boost of confidence:). And, completely out of character, I did actually start crying when they practiced exchanging their vows (not as much as the bride was crying, mind you, but still getting misty over having observed true love). Then, a past her prime soprano took the mic and started singing the world's longest song9, so I continued crying, but for a different reason. The rehearsal itself was continued by 3 hours of decorating for the reception as Haley decided she wanted to cater and decorate for her own wedding (she crazy!), but it wasn't so terrible as I got to do it with 2 old and 1 new lovelies.
I'm very excited about coming back to Kirksville tomorrow morning! Between Joanna and Jeni coming back, Maggie, Miguel, Theo, and Emily already being there, and loads of new friends to make at karaoke, I'm hoping this summer will be a blasty-blast (despite taking smelly statistics:(. Lets do dinners and braid each others hair!
Now, onto the slightly probing, but still fairly superficial closing of my post- wtf, mr. attraction? Why must you be so blitzkreig? Perhaps since I've been so repressed and dormant in the realms of crush for so long, he's coming back with a vengeance, striking me over and over and much more intensely than is necessary. In the past 2 weeks, I've grown quite strongly attracted to 4 guys (attracted to the extent that i would think about them before i went to bed, biting my lip and giggling..and playing with my neck, I surefire sign!). However, the 2 I actually went out with this week have proven to be little more than a pretty face. This just leaves 2, which is still one too many for this boy to handle. Perhaps there's some sort of homegrown squash shake i can take to lessen the intensity in which I experience things, that would make life a lot easier. Or perhaps I can just stop bitching over being mutually attracted to 2 decent people and figure this shit out the hard way.
I've got a room to clean, a car to pack, and a wedding to be in before I come back tomorrow morning. I'd better head. Lata playas!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Plagarized Before My Time
| More and More | |
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| More and more frequently the edges |
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The King and I (and other such mishmash)
Having gone to church today for the first time since Christmas (which had been the first time since summer), I have a new theory on how Mass should be approached: let's all do it the way the 2-year-olds do. That is, bring snacks, and scream in anguish all throughout the sermon.
Today was Corups Christi Sunday, so the priest devoted his entire discussion to transubstantiation. For those of you not in the Catechismic know, transubstantiation is the Catholic belief that the bread and wine taken at communion literally is Jesus's body and blood. The priest acknowledged that most Catholics don't actually believe it, but proceeded to make terribly awkward attempts to prove it. He nonsensically compared transubstantiation to the National Enquirer and the strange circumstances in which the church office had been robbed last week. He ended his sermon with (and I quote) "It's just so crazy, how could we make it up?" That, apparently, is supposed to be the basis of Catholic faith. I respect any of you who adhere to such beliefs, but I must fully acknowledge that the Catholic Church and I have officially parted ways as of this morning.
I spent 150 dollars on clothes today, and I did it terribly. I hate buying things, so trying on jeans at Pac Sun was like tearing out fresh sutures. Then, after my purchases, I freaked out over being a consumer whore. How the fuck am I supposed to afford my rock-and-roll lifestyle? Worst Marxist ever; also, the worst shopper.
Victoria and I saw Indy Jones IV today. I will not reveals any spoilers, but I must say it was the most absurd thing I've ever seen in a mainstream theatre. I like to assume that Spieldberg is just well-versed in camp and irony and that he did not TRULY see this as an iconic throwback or a satisfactory recessitation of an old series. He probably should have tried to make a new Indiana Jones for a new generation, but instead he poorly remade the old ones with more excessive violence, more xenophobia, and a slight new age twist (just enough to make you uncomfortable). But Cate and Shia were both pretty!
Had my first hit of Indian food since August; best dinner ever.
Lastly, I miss Kville. See some of you soon, I hope.
Today was Corups Christi Sunday, so the priest devoted his entire discussion to transubstantiation. For those of you not in the Catechismic know, transubstantiation is the Catholic belief that the bread and wine taken at communion literally is Jesus's body and blood. The priest acknowledged that most Catholics don't actually believe it, but proceeded to make terribly awkward attempts to prove it. He nonsensically compared transubstantiation to the National Enquirer and the strange circumstances in which the church office had been robbed last week. He ended his sermon with (and I quote) "It's just so crazy, how could we make it up?" That, apparently, is supposed to be the basis of Catholic faith. I respect any of you who adhere to such beliefs, but I must fully acknowledge that the Catholic Church and I have officially parted ways as of this morning.
I spent 150 dollars on clothes today, and I did it terribly. I hate buying things, so trying on jeans at Pac Sun was like tearing out fresh sutures. Then, after my purchases, I freaked out over being a consumer whore. How the fuck am I supposed to afford my rock-and-roll lifestyle? Worst Marxist ever; also, the worst shopper.
Victoria and I saw Indy Jones IV today. I will not reveals any spoilers, but I must say it was the most absurd thing I've ever seen in a mainstream theatre. I like to assume that Spieldberg is just well-versed in camp and irony and that he did not TRULY see this as an iconic throwback or a satisfactory recessitation of an old series. He probably should have tried to make a new Indiana Jones for a new generation, but instead he poorly remade the old ones with more excessive violence, more xenophobia, and a slight new age twist (just enough to make you uncomfortable). But Cate and Shia were both pretty!
Had my first hit of Indian food since August; best dinner ever.
Lastly, I miss Kville. See some of you soon, I hope.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Applying blush
Could I be more transparent?
Could I be more inconsistent?
Could I get more excited?
Could I be more impulsive?
Could I play more the fool?
Could I....
Could I be more inconsistent?
Could I get more excited?
Could I be more impulsive?
Could I play more the fool?
Could I....
Monday, May 19, 2008
Livin' Life with Ben Kweller
I've been doing this shit Paul Simon style, leaving you lovelies in the sound of silence. I know you must be concerned... nay, DESPERATE to hear about what's going on in my exciting life. Well, I'm tired, so I'll tease you adoring fans with a little vagueness.
Basically, this silence has been golden- it's cause the past few days have been really great (and, in their own way, busy).
A few things:
1. Not going to friend mixer= worst mistake ever.
2. Jersey Boys was such a comforting little jukebox musical. If it hadn't been staged the way it was (and with the budget it was), it would have been just some hoaky concert (that is, the content of the show itself is lackluster). But a little nostalgia for the old folk and lots of energy for me and well, I was just smitten. I then went out to a Scottish Pub after seeing the show and accidentally ate lamb; I feel terrible.
3. I'm making new friends! (Not replacement friends but new friends). They're quite cute, funny, and nice. One of them reminds me of my brother John (in his proud humility), except for the fact that we have things in common. So that's cool.
Work. Lots of work. And delicious food! Katherine came over last night and made me the world's best pasta. Then we had a make-or-break conversation that definitely did some makage; it's safe to say that friendship is solidified in the book of fuck-yesness.
Time to finish an essay. More to come later? We'll see.
Basically, this silence has been golden- it's cause the past few days have been really great (and, in their own way, busy).
A few things:
1. Not going to friend mixer= worst mistake ever.
2. Jersey Boys was such a comforting little jukebox musical. If it hadn't been staged the way it was (and with the budget it was), it would have been just some hoaky concert (that is, the content of the show itself is lackluster). But a little nostalgia for the old folk and lots of energy for me and well, I was just smitten. I then went out to a Scottish Pub after seeing the show and accidentally ate lamb; I feel terrible.
3. I'm making new friends! (Not replacement friends but new friends). They're quite cute, funny, and nice. One of them reminds me of my brother John (in his proud humility), except for the fact that we have things in common. So that's cool.
Work. Lots of work. And delicious food! Katherine came over last night and made me the world's best pasta. Then we had a make-or-break conversation that definitely did some makage; it's safe to say that friendship is solidified in the book of fuck-yesness.
Time to finish an essay. More to come later? We'll see.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Wanted: Companion with French Accent
Once again, I accomplished much less than I needed to. This means tomorrow will be 12 hours straight of studying, but no worries: it just made for a chill evening. I hung out with my friend Theo (who always makes me realize how uninteresting I am and how much I have left to learn... but in an entirely good way!) We watched the least mainstream film I've ever seen, "The Raspberry Reich." It's set up as a socialist propaganda film about a modern terrorist cult, exploring cult dynamics through homosexual revolution. The blurring of sex, politics, and violence was alarming, but certainly very interesting. Great ideas; extremely quotable slogans ("Heterosexuality is the opiate of the masses" and "Masturbation is counter revolutionary"... solid gold shit like that); horrendously bad acting, but I can't expect much out of propaganda porn.
I just got back to my own abode, and I'm watching La Vie en Rose (which is absolutely FABULOUS- check it out. Rarely will you get to see such an emotionally resonant performance) and unwinding for bed.
I almost forgot! This afternoon, I took a nap, and somehow slept through my landlord and roommate knocking all the woodwork and plaster off our living room walls. Everything in the building is now caked in plaster dust, and there are pieces of wall everywhere: Bohemian or War Zone? Glorious, either way.
Love some of you. Like you all. Good night!
I just got back to my own abode, and I'm watching La Vie en Rose (which is absolutely FABULOUS- check it out. Rarely will you get to see such an emotionally resonant performance) and unwinding for bed.
I almost forgot! This afternoon, I took a nap, and somehow slept through my landlord and roommate knocking all the woodwork and plaster off our living room walls. Everything in the building is now caked in plaster dust, and there are pieces of wall everywhere: Bohemian or War Zone? Glorious, either way.
Love some of you. Like you all. Good night!
Greetings from Honshu, c. 1900
Instead of eating lunch over my lunch break, I'm blogging: has the internet taken over my life THAT completely? Furthermore, I'm a really that concerned with actively shaping my identity (or so self-important to think getting my perspective out there to my 2 or 3 adoring fans is more important than food)? Oh, well!
Yesterday, after some intense Japanage and 4 hours of revising International Student Orientation schedules and presentations, good times began rolling. I opted to only do 1/3 of my reading assignment, so I had a couple extra hours to spare on cleaning up my patch of linoleum (i.e.- my bed room.... slash laundry room). Part of this consisted of Austin and I experimenting with our dysfunctional washing machine. Our clothes are clean and no flooding occurred (despite warnings of our former tenant)... however, the washing machine still hasn't drained. we're going to have to get on that.
So, after general cleanage and fuckingaroundness, Nikki, the latest sweetheart to find her way into my life, came over and made us Chicken Parmasean Pasta (Ruby Tuesday's Recipe!). On top of being the only "real" food (i.e. not bagel or fruit) that I'd had in days, it was absolutely delicious, and her company was much appreciated. Our delicious dinner (wineless, as finished off our 2 almost empty bottles a few hours prior), Austin and I serenaded his laptop until Emily and the lovely and amazing KELLY came over for Karaoke.
Karaoke at the Dukum on Tuesday Night's= a blast! I couldn't bring myself to sing, but I did bust a few moves, and had a genuinely great time. Met some new people; perhaps planted the seeds for new friendship with a couple folk. And didn't go to bed til 3. A huge mistake as I had to get up at 6 for classes and I am, naturally, exhausted. I've got a few more hours of work to put in, then 150ish pages of reading, and then it's nap time lovelies.
I think a summer in Kirksville is going to work out just fine; no more concerns about another summer wasting.
Yesterday, after some intense Japanage and 4 hours of revising International Student Orientation schedules and presentations, good times began rolling. I opted to only do 1/3 of my reading assignment, so I had a couple extra hours to spare on cleaning up my patch of linoleum (i.e.- my bed room.... slash laundry room). Part of this consisted of Austin and I experimenting with our dysfunctional washing machine. Our clothes are clean and no flooding occurred (despite warnings of our former tenant)... however, the washing machine still hasn't drained. we're going to have to get on that.
So, after general cleanage and fuckingaroundness, Nikki, the latest sweetheart to find her way into my life, came over and made us Chicken Parmasean Pasta (Ruby Tuesday's Recipe!). On top of being the only "real" food (i.e. not bagel or fruit) that I'd had in days, it was absolutely delicious, and her company was much appreciated. Our delicious dinner (wineless, as finished off our 2 almost empty bottles a few hours prior), Austin and I serenaded his laptop until Emily and the lovely and amazing KELLY came over for Karaoke.
Karaoke at the Dukum on Tuesday Night's= a blast! I couldn't bring myself to sing, but I did bust a few moves, and had a genuinely great time. Met some new people; perhaps planted the seeds for new friendship with a couple folk. And didn't go to bed til 3. A huge mistake as I had to get up at 6 for classes and I am, naturally, exhausted. I've got a few more hours of work to put in, then 150ish pages of reading, and then it's nap time lovelies.
I think a summer in Kirksville is going to work out just fine; no more concerns about another summer wasting.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Dreamin' of a Fortnight
Today's reading assignment consisted of 200 pages. I accomplished all but 30. And the 30 I ignored were about women. And I'm a feminist. Clearly, something is wrong in the state of Japan(ese assignments), Dr. Ling! 200 pages and a 15 minute presentation struck me as a little heavy for the first day, but what do I know, I'm just a guy with a job who is still trying to move into his apartment- what could I need free time for? Needless to say, I can't wait for my interim to be over, even if I'm deeply, deeply in love with the subject (omg... I'm turning into Jordan Conrad. shoot me!)
Half-starvation is still the watch-word, but it did improve some today. I got 3 meals in, even if 2 of them consisted of only juice, a bagel, and yogurt. Good news though- when I have the time, I CAN make dinner.. turns out our oven isn't on the verge of exploding. That gassy aroma is just part of its charm, Polina informs.
I've got some room cleaning/setting-up to do, and perhaps, but unlikely, some Pink Fox to attend to.
Tomorrow night, however- it's on like donkey kong, friends. Karaoke summons my ladies and I, and we will not be cruel to her.
Quick P.S.'s: I love my job planning Orientation even if I don't have time for it right now.
PPS- I almost forgot how to ride my bike today, which is supposed to be impossible unless you have Parkinson's or something.
PPPS- I didn't even have time to imagine myself a silver-screen starlet today; que tragic!
EDIT:
That charming Foxy-Sweetness is in my belly, thanks to Austin Underhill. We didn't have a real corkscrew, so he used his remaining Hulkness to bust out the cork- in 3 pieces. This was after we hauled Justin's 10 ton entertainment center up the stairs (something I never want to go through again). Now, I've got some bleedings fingers, sore toes, and 6 hours til I have to wake up and finish my group project. Wish me luck, kiddies!
EDIT 2:
No sleep yet- we just pulled an entire patio set onto our roof with some twine. Officially the coolest thing I've ever done. I'll drink to that, lovelies.
Half-starvation is still the watch-word, but it did improve some today. I got 3 meals in, even if 2 of them consisted of only juice, a bagel, and yogurt. Good news though- when I have the time, I CAN make dinner.. turns out our oven isn't on the verge of exploding. That gassy aroma is just part of its charm, Polina informs.
I've got some room cleaning/setting-up to do, and perhaps, but unlikely, some Pink Fox to attend to.
Tomorrow night, however- it's on like donkey kong, friends. Karaoke summons my ladies and I, and we will not be cruel to her.
Quick P.S.'s: I love my job planning Orientation even if I don't have time for it right now.
PPS- I almost forgot how to ride my bike today, which is supposed to be impossible unless you have Parkinson's or something.
PPPS- I didn't even have time to imagine myself a silver-screen starlet today; que tragic!
EDIT:
That charming Foxy-Sweetness is in my belly, thanks to Austin Underhill. We didn't have a real corkscrew, so he used his remaining Hulkness to bust out the cork- in 3 pieces. This was after we hauled Justin's 10 ton entertainment center up the stairs (something I never want to go through again). Now, I've got some bleedings fingers, sore toes, and 6 hours til I have to wake up and finish my group project. Wish me luck, kiddies!
EDIT 2:
No sleep yet- we just pulled an entire patio set onto our roof with some twine. Officially the coolest thing I've ever done. I'll drink to that, lovelies.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
I'm not sure that I've ever done so much while accomplishing so little. We've been moving and cleaning all day, but my room still looks like a storage unit and the staircase I spent 1.5 hours vacuuming is still grody by most people's standards. But I have to be up in 7.5 hours for class, so don't expect me to get anything else accomplished.
I hung out with Emily and Lady Chambers tonight, and had myself a bit of a blasty-blast. "Made of Honor" was very run-of-the mill but offered some sexcellent Dempsey diversion and general life-affirming comfort. Then the lasses and I swapped awful roommate experiences, shared horror stories about puberty, and dissected the on-screen boyfriends of Anne Hathaway. A good night, I must say.
General concern: Malnourishment. I'm confident I consumed no more than 1,000 calories today. I refuse to buy any food, I will not eat junk food, and I haven't had time or a clean enough kitchen to cook. The only solution is moderate starvation, apparently. Right now I'm running off coffee; tomorrow (once I'm done with 5 hours of class, 4 hours of work, and 4 hours of reading) I'll console myself with some Pink Fox.
I feel like I'm living someone else's life while at this loft. I forget about my life back ,and my life in the dorms (2 days freshly buried) doesn't seem real. I even forget that Austin, Justin, and I have a history- we seem to be new friends, liking each other greatly but still getting acquainted. I hope that as the loft becomes real, so will my past, and so will I.
I'm going to tackle my bookshelf tonight, my fridge tomorrow, a closet on Tuesday, and adorning my walls on Wednesday. Wish me luck, lovelies!
I hung out with Emily and Lady Chambers tonight, and had myself a bit of a blasty-blast. "Made of Honor" was very run-of-the mill but offered some sexcellent Dempsey diversion and general life-affirming comfort. Then the lasses and I swapped awful roommate experiences, shared horror stories about puberty, and dissected the on-screen boyfriends of Anne Hathaway. A good night, I must say.
General concern: Malnourishment. I'm confident I consumed no more than 1,000 calories today. I refuse to buy any food, I will not eat junk food, and I haven't had time or a clean enough kitchen to cook. The only solution is moderate starvation, apparently. Right now I'm running off coffee; tomorrow (once I'm done with 5 hours of class, 4 hours of work, and 4 hours of reading) I'll console myself with some Pink Fox.
I feel like I'm living someone else's life while at this loft. I forget about my life back ,and my life in the dorms (2 days freshly buried) doesn't seem real. I even forget that Austin, Justin, and I have a history- we seem to be new friends, liking each other greatly but still getting acquainted. I hope that as the loft becomes real, so will my past, and so will I.
I'm going to tackle my bookshelf tonight, my fridge tomorrow, a closet on Tuesday, and adorning my walls on Wednesday. Wish me luck, lovelies!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
no lies, just loft
The long day is over and the stretch of night awaits as I write from the world's least comfortable desk chair (via DukumInn Wireless... cause that's necessary). My feet, they are le-tired. My back, she is a sore. But my heart pumps possibility and my mind asks me to forget a night I cannot remember.
You see, last night, I learned my first real college lesson:
Do not get the most trashed you've ever been in your entire life (i'm not sensationalizing- this shit's legit)the night before your parents are coming up at 9am to help you move.
I painted the town red (and, later, a puke green) with Jeni as I chased vodka with rum (straight, as i was feeling masculine). I made lots of friends, apparently. And other things also apparently happened which I cannot remember and do not wish to talk about (but will tantalizingly allude to, especially since I don't believe anyone reads my blog).
Needless to say, today has been awful. I've been running around, shoving 3-peoples-worth of shit into one room until the current tenant moves out, entertaining my parents, and being outrageously ill and hung-over.
A quick unrelated note:
I had to say goodbye to my international students last night; i took them to the train station, got misty as they rode away, and they gave me the cutest present. I'm going to miss those kids dearly.
EDIT:
The cleaning and moving brigade has desisted. The four of us (Austin, Justin, Nikki, and myself) are now huddled in a frat boy junkyard of our own creation, drinking lime beer and red wine, watching Calendar Girls and Indiana Jones (the awful, awful 2nd one- my favorite!), and trying to ignore the leak that is pitter-pattering into our trash can. Not the summer vacation of my fantasies, but a pretty okay Saturday night before the 2 weeks of hell that await me. But for now I'm content, hanging with my boys, dreaming about what our home will become.
You see, last night, I learned my first real college lesson:
Do not get the most trashed you've ever been in your entire life (i'm not sensationalizing- this shit's legit)the night before your parents are coming up at 9am to help you move.
I painted the town red (and, later, a puke green) with Jeni as I chased vodka with rum (straight, as i was feeling masculine). I made lots of friends, apparently. And other things also apparently happened which I cannot remember and do not wish to talk about (but will tantalizingly allude to, especially since I don't believe anyone reads my blog).
Needless to say, today has been awful. I've been running around, shoving 3-peoples-worth of shit into one room until the current tenant moves out, entertaining my parents, and being outrageously ill and hung-over.
A quick unrelated note:
I had to say goodbye to my international students last night; i took them to the train station, got misty as they rode away, and they gave me the cutest present. I'm going to miss those kids dearly.
EDIT:
The cleaning and moving brigade has desisted. The four of us (Austin, Justin, Nikki, and myself) are now huddled in a frat boy junkyard of our own creation, drinking lime beer and red wine, watching Calendar Girls and Indiana Jones (the awful, awful 2nd one- my favorite!), and trying to ignore the leak that is pitter-pattering into our trash can. Not the summer vacation of my fantasies, but a pretty okay Saturday night before the 2 weeks of hell that await me. But for now I'm content, hanging with my boys, dreaming about what our home will become.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
My Left Foot and other Disconnected Tales
I was walking to Hyvee a few days ago when my 3-year-old $5 Walmart sandals were punctured by something unforgiving. God bless tetanus shots! The relentless pain, however, has not stopped me from wearing said sandals; these bitches are staying on until I can get to Old Navy in a few weeks and take advantage of their cheap, cheap flip-flops.
Last night was a thousand chips delicious. Steve, Sam, and I went out to Ruby Tues and made fun of each other relentlessly- tres cute and enjoyable. Then I worked on a huge cultural history final I had no idea I had to do. And then I internally mourned the end of dorm life and a summer without constant Molly, Jo, and Steveness. The sadness was, fortunately, counteracted by double stuft oreos.
I had lunch with my friend Manisha today and we eavesdropped on a table full of obese gamers swapping cyber sex stories. I only threw up once, but that was probably just because of the Sodexho.
Steve Kainz's vacuum is the greatest thing since sliced bread... or, to keep with things that clean, the Swiffer? Idk... I want to do an infomercial about it. It's light; it's maneuverable; it sucks hard. It made vacuuming fun, and I feel that everyone should experience it.
Have you been keeping up with this crazy incest case in Austria (yes, I'm allowed to follow sensationalized and pointless news)? Granted, this guy sounds like bad news, locking up his daughter for 19 years and everything, but it got me thinking- will incest always be the scum-of-the-earth thing to do? Will society ever be in a place where it accepts consensual incestuous relationships between consenting adults, or is it just to foreign and taboo to ever be possible? Random and strange, I know.
I feel like doing a lot of things- saying a few goodbyes to those leaving, making friends with those staying, taking shots of whiskey and washing it down with Pink Fox, cuddling, doing the Freddy... too much, no? But there's something satisfying in wanting everything, even if you get none of it. The desire for something, the idea of it, is sometimes enough to sustain us a lifetime.
Time for a walk, I think. My legs are something I know I have control over, and a little exercise and a little ipod action sounds like the perfect beginning to a nostalgic evening.
Last night was a thousand chips delicious. Steve, Sam, and I went out to Ruby Tues and made fun of each other relentlessly- tres cute and enjoyable. Then I worked on a huge cultural history final I had no idea I had to do. And then I internally mourned the end of dorm life and a summer without constant Molly, Jo, and Steveness. The sadness was, fortunately, counteracted by double stuft oreos.
I had lunch with my friend Manisha today and we eavesdropped on a table full of obese gamers swapping cyber sex stories. I only threw up once, but that was probably just because of the Sodexho.
Steve Kainz's vacuum is the greatest thing since sliced bread... or, to keep with things that clean, the Swiffer? Idk... I want to do an infomercial about it. It's light; it's maneuverable; it sucks hard. It made vacuuming fun, and I feel that everyone should experience it.
Have you been keeping up with this crazy incest case in Austria (yes, I'm allowed to follow sensationalized and pointless news)? Granted, this guy sounds like bad news, locking up his daughter for 19 years and everything, but it got me thinking- will incest always be the scum-of-the-earth thing to do? Will society ever be in a place where it accepts consensual incestuous relationships between consenting adults, or is it just to foreign and taboo to ever be possible? Random and strange, I know.
I feel like doing a lot of things- saying a few goodbyes to those leaving, making friends with those staying, taking shots of whiskey and washing it down with Pink Fox, cuddling, doing the Freddy... too much, no? But there's something satisfying in wanting everything, even if you get none of it. The desire for something, the idea of it, is sometimes enough to sustain us a lifetime.
Time for a walk, I think. My legs are something I know I have control over, and a little exercise and a little ipod action sounds like the perfect beginning to a nostalgic evening.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Move-in Day: The Moments in which I question my Corie Bratter-ness
There is something poetic about potential, about an empty canvas, about a cry for transformation.
There is nothing poetic about a bathroom that floods, about a ceiling that falls, about the ever-present odor of wet dog and tavern. Well, poetic, perhaps, but not romantic and certainly not beautiful.
Months ago I got goosebumps (the good kind) at the thought of living in a drafty loft above a bakery that required a few coats of paint and the occasional mantwist of a wrench. It struck me as an environment of infinite possibilities in which I could play out my delusions of being insatiable or impossible, of having moxy. But every time I set my director's chair in the audience and sit back with a microphone in one hand and a box of popcorn in the other, reality rears its ugly head (which looks much more like Bette Davis on her deathbed than anything ever should). Today, I moved 3/4 of my life (that is, all of me that fits into a car) into the dust bunny where dreams go to die. A brief conversation with hell's current tenant, and I realize this picture will be less Neil Simon and more David Lynch. I can't say I'm really up for taking the time to relay the dirty laundry list, but I will tell you it ends with a door to the street that locks its tenants in rather than keeping strangers out.
So, with my new home, I'm compromising, much like I have been trying to do this past month. Ms. Plath's sentiment that "you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time" could never ring truer. I am trying to accept that fact that I am not writing myself onto any stage or into any classic. Someone out there is making a documentary, and it's cold and honest and I don't have as much say in it as I'd like to; the best I can do is remember that other people are just as real as I am and that I am just as real as everyone else. No more trying new things just because they're interesting (that is, they must also be in my best interest); no more picking fights with my friends just because it amuses me.* Most people take life seriously and personally; perhaps I should join the human race.
This is not to say that I'm giving up on cinema or denying myself the pleasure of fantasy and escapism. I'm just going to recognize that the consequences of my decisions and my actions aren't the 2nd act of some awfully-written play; they affect me and others, flesh-and-blood folk, deeply and truly. And the next time I start playing some game with my friends, I'll make sure that we all understand its a game that we're playing.
I've been working on reality a lot lately., accepting that this summer might mean more sweat and discomfort than amusement and transformation and that not everyone sees most human interaction through the same scope I do. It's so strange that I'm willing to fight and work against the wicked "reality" that I see those being deprived of human rights are facing, but when it comes to my friends, I sometimes fail to forget they're not viewing life through my silver-screen eyes..that they think there's more to life than being captivated and captivating.
Ay- I bet Jane Fonda didn't have to deal with this shit.
*It's not just that arguing amuses me, but I feel that one must be in good practice in case they should ever find themselves in a "real" argument. Plus, I've watched people fight my whole life and never gotten much of a chance to do it myself. Now, since I've finally accepted my identity as one who breaks social norms, I feel like I need to make up for lost time and get my in-your-face-ness on.... I suppose I have a tendency to get over zealous. So Jo and Molly- I know this often amounts to me being needlessly catty with you some times. I'm very sorry! Love you dears:)
There is nothing poetic about a bathroom that floods, about a ceiling that falls, about the ever-present odor of wet dog and tavern. Well, poetic, perhaps, but not romantic and certainly not beautiful.
Months ago I got goosebumps (the good kind) at the thought of living in a drafty loft above a bakery that required a few coats of paint and the occasional mantwist of a wrench. It struck me as an environment of infinite possibilities in which I could play out my delusions of being insatiable or impossible, of having moxy. But every time I set my director's chair in the audience and sit back with a microphone in one hand and a box of popcorn in the other, reality rears its ugly head (which looks much more like Bette Davis on her deathbed than anything ever should). Today, I moved 3/4 of my life (that is, all of me that fits into a car) into the dust bunny where dreams go to die. A brief conversation with hell's current tenant, and I realize this picture will be less Neil Simon and more David Lynch. I can't say I'm really up for taking the time to relay the dirty laundry list, but I will tell you it ends with a door to the street that locks its tenants in rather than keeping strangers out.
So, with my new home, I'm compromising, much like I have been trying to do this past month. Ms. Plath's sentiment that "you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time" could never ring truer. I am trying to accept that fact that I am not writing myself onto any stage or into any classic. Someone out there is making a documentary, and it's cold and honest and I don't have as much say in it as I'd like to; the best I can do is remember that other people are just as real as I am and that I am just as real as everyone else. No more trying new things just because they're interesting (that is, they must also be in my best interest); no more picking fights with my friends just because it amuses me.* Most people take life seriously and personally; perhaps I should join the human race.
This is not to say that I'm giving up on cinema or denying myself the pleasure of fantasy and escapism. I'm just going to recognize that the consequences of my decisions and my actions aren't the 2nd act of some awfully-written play; they affect me and others, flesh-and-blood folk, deeply and truly. And the next time I start playing some game with my friends, I'll make sure that we all understand its a game that we're playing.
I've been working on reality a lot lately., accepting that this summer might mean more sweat and discomfort than amusement and transformation and that not everyone sees most human interaction through the same scope I do. It's so strange that I'm willing to fight and work against the wicked "reality" that I see those being deprived of human rights are facing, but when it comes to my friends, I sometimes fail to forget they're not viewing life through my silver-screen eyes..that they think there's more to life than being captivated and captivating.
Ay- I bet Jane Fonda didn't have to deal with this shit.
*It's not just that arguing amuses me, but I feel that one must be in good practice in case they should ever find themselves in a "real" argument. Plus, I've watched people fight my whole life and never gotten much of a chance to do it myself. Now, since I've finally accepted my identity as one who breaks social norms, I feel like I need to make up for lost time and get my in-your-face-ness on.... I suppose I have a tendency to get over zealous. So Jo and Molly- I know this often amounts to me being needlessly catty with you some times. I'm very sorry! Love you dears:)
summer sounds like
hot asphalt cheap wine b-movies and few faces.
The night before I left for Truman this year, I sat on the porch through the most unexpected and liberating storm of my life. As I believe in omens, I knew that this would be a year of trial and change but that it would ultimately leave me very much alive. And I was right- this year has been nothing but a string of red letter dates from my coming outs to my poor choices in the drug-and-alcohol department to various other mistakes I've made and people I've hurt as I tred new waters. My friend dynamic has been revolutionized; my classes have doubled in workload and difficulty. And I've left a lot of the past behind. But I'm here, I'm happy, and I'm ready for more challenges and more change.
Which is why I fear the summer so greatly. Few familiar faces will be around, and I'm worried about slipping into some old, bad habits. I cannot afford to spend another summer wasting, but I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to avoid that if left alone. Oh well - I'll have Jo for 6 weeks, and I know Katherine and Maggie are going to be around for a while. Perhaps I will grow this summer much more than I expect; perhaps these next few months will be anything but reckless regressions.
For now, I'll just have to hold on to the amazingness that has been the past few weeks. True, they've been stressful as hell, but more than manageable with all my new and old friends. Thanks, lovelies:)
The night before I left for Truman this year, I sat on the porch through the most unexpected and liberating storm of my life. As I believe in omens, I knew that this would be a year of trial and change but that it would ultimately leave me very much alive. And I was right- this year has been nothing but a string of red letter dates from my coming outs to my poor choices in the drug-and-alcohol department to various other mistakes I've made and people I've hurt as I tred new waters. My friend dynamic has been revolutionized; my classes have doubled in workload and difficulty. And I've left a lot of the past behind. But I'm here, I'm happy, and I'm ready for more challenges and more change.
Which is why I fear the summer so greatly. Few familiar faces will be around, and I'm worried about slipping into some old, bad habits. I cannot afford to spend another summer wasting, but I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to avoid that if left alone. Oh well - I'll have Jo for 6 weeks, and I know Katherine and Maggie are going to be around for a while. Perhaps I will grow this summer much more than I expect; perhaps these next few months will be anything but reckless regressions.
For now, I'll just have to hold on to the amazingness that has been the past few weeks. True, they've been stressful as hell, but more than manageable with all my new and old friends. Thanks, lovelies:)
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