...
Nothing is progressing the way I'd like here. Marianna, the girl who is allegedly moving out of my room at Shannon's apartment, has not packed a single thing yet. We have a guest here--my parents' collegiate comrade from Washington DC, which just makes everything about nine times more tense and stressful. My hair is disgusting, and no one likes it, including myself, as of late. It's my sister's birthday, and nothing's moving forward. I want to die. But not really--I'd rather things just come together already.
A record of the life and times of one brown shirt-wearing university student, struggling to escape his fear of intimacy, overcome his hunger for eternal supremacy in every aspect, and never have to write a description of his life like this again.
Monday, December 30, 2002
Thursday, December 26, 2002
So this is Christmas
As the years have progressed, I've felt more and more distant to this holiday. This year, my excitement was at an all-time low. I'm not sure why--I went through the usual motions, such as singing "O Holy Night" in some church last night, attending and hosting large family gatherings, receiving presents (all but one I purchased by myself, for myself), and the like. I don't know...I think I was just hideously tired and therefore drained of all Christmassy feelings of hope and glee. It's quite depressing--for so many years, I looked upon this season as the year's grandiose climax. Thanks to work, stress, and other factors, I was left feeling numb and listless. Nothing inspired me, nothing made me sublimely happy. I miss being naive and cheerful, even if those feelings were fed by an artificial tree, tiny impractical lights, and the overuse of one of our precious natural resources, trees.
Visually, "Catch me if you can" was a delightful haberdashery of nostalgia, color, and contrast. I really enjoyed the film, and would recommend it to anyone who has a few hours to take a break from their rampant returning sprees tomorrow.
I love how Theo thinks so poorly of me and everything I'm about. Tonight was the real kicker--he sums up my life in these belittling, patronizing comments, like "Well, I'm not going to two singing and dancing parties on new year's eve." The one time he met my D. Shannon friends, none of them sang, danced, performed monologues from Shakespearean plays, or played with lavish stage makeup. I'm frequently offended by the coarse, low things he says to me. And the worst part is, he doesn't even recognize the offensiveness of his own words. He thinks he can say whatever he wants to me, because either a.) I'll just take the lickin' and keep on tickin', b.) He thinks that I agree with him about me being a vapid, horrible person, or c.) His comments make him feel like the/a better person. All I really know, for certain, is that these actions do not constitute the makings of a long-term, content relationship.
Vachement: French, "cowishly."
Ex.: "C'est vachement facile." (It's cowishly simple.)
As the years have progressed, I've felt more and more distant to this holiday. This year, my excitement was at an all-time low. I'm not sure why--I went through the usual motions, such as singing "O Holy Night" in some church last night, attending and hosting large family gatherings, receiving presents (all but one I purchased by myself, for myself), and the like. I don't know...I think I was just hideously tired and therefore drained of all Christmassy feelings of hope and glee. It's quite depressing--for so many years, I looked upon this season as the year's grandiose climax. Thanks to work, stress, and other factors, I was left feeling numb and listless. Nothing inspired me, nothing made me sublimely happy. I miss being naive and cheerful, even if those feelings were fed by an artificial tree, tiny impractical lights, and the overuse of one of our precious natural resources, trees.
Visually, "Catch me if you can" was a delightful haberdashery of nostalgia, color, and contrast. I really enjoyed the film, and would recommend it to anyone who has a few hours to take a break from their rampant returning sprees tomorrow.
I love how Theo thinks so poorly of me and everything I'm about. Tonight was the real kicker--he sums up my life in these belittling, patronizing comments, like "Well, I'm not going to two singing and dancing parties on new year's eve." The one time he met my D. Shannon friends, none of them sang, danced, performed monologues from Shakespearean plays, or played with lavish stage makeup. I'm frequently offended by the coarse, low things he says to me. And the worst part is, he doesn't even recognize the offensiveness of his own words. He thinks he can say whatever he wants to me, because either a.) I'll just take the lickin' and keep on tickin', b.) He thinks that I agree with him about me being a vapid, horrible person, or c.) His comments make him feel like the/a better person. All I really know, for certain, is that these actions do not constitute the makings of a long-term, content relationship.
Vachement: French, "cowishly."
Ex.: "C'est vachement facile." (It's cowishly simple.)
Monday, December 23, 2002
Identity Crisis
Do I really look that much like a woman?
I don't think so. But apparently, according to both Trashy IHOP Waitress and Trashy Krispy Kreme Cashier, I do. Last wednesday, Erin and I went out to breakfast at the IHOP in Columbia. We were sitting there, drinking coffee and whatnot, when this waitress who did not belong to us came up and asked, "Are you two ladies doing alright?" Shethen glanced at me and noticed that, horror of horrors, I have facial hair, no breasts, and armhair thicker than a Greek, John Goodman-looking bulldyke. (Pardon the expression, it's a Cho-ism.) She tried to redeem herself by saying something along the lines of "Oh, I only saw you from the back" and failed miserably.
Today, this evening, after shopping for my own birthday gifts at Geneva Commons and visiting Erin at Borders, I stopped to purchase some Krispy Kremes for my co-Gappers in honour of Christmas and whatnot. So, after SPEAKING TO HER IN MY MANVOICE THROUGH THE INTERCOM, I pull up to the window to pay the cashier, give her my credit card, which gave her ample time to LOOK AT MY FACE, and wait until she gives me the signaure slip, saying to me, "here you go, ma'am...oh...sorry." What is this? I really don't get it.
If this happens again, I'm shaving it all off and growing a big grisly beard.
Do I really look that much like a woman?
I don't think so. But apparently, according to both Trashy IHOP Waitress and Trashy Krispy Kreme Cashier, I do. Last wednesday, Erin and I went out to breakfast at the IHOP in Columbia. We were sitting there, drinking coffee and whatnot, when this waitress who did not belong to us came up and asked, "Are you two ladies doing alright?" Shethen glanced at me and noticed that, horror of horrors, I have facial hair, no breasts, and armhair thicker than a Greek, John Goodman-looking bulldyke. (Pardon the expression, it's a Cho-ism.) She tried to redeem herself by saying something along the lines of "Oh, I only saw you from the back" and failed miserably.
Today, this evening, after shopping for my own birthday gifts at Geneva Commons and visiting Erin at Borders, I stopped to purchase some Krispy Kremes for my co-Gappers in honour of Christmas and whatnot. So, after SPEAKING TO HER IN MY MANVOICE THROUGH THE INTERCOM, I pull up to the window to pay the cashier, give her my credit card, which gave her ample time to LOOK AT MY FACE, and wait until she gives me the signaure slip, saying to me, "here you go, ma'am...oh...sorry." What is this? I really don't get it.
If this happens again, I'm shaving it all off and growing a big grisly beard.
Sunday, December 22, 2002
What is this again?
It's been quite some time since I last updated. Alright...three days. That's a long time, for my standards. I really don't have much time to type--I've been scheduled to work at Gap at 7:00AM four days out of this week. One of them happens to be tomorrow. I may go into detail about these points later, but for now...
Things that have happened:
1. Erin and I haven't spoken to each other since Friday. I realize it's only Sunday, but that's odd for us. I think we had issues in the car and at Denny's. I hope what i think is going to happen doesn't happen.
2. I had dinner with Theo and his parents on Saturday to celebrate his birthday. We all met at Cafe Absinthe--I was hideously nervous about the whole thing, but I think the affair went quite well. I really enjoyed the company of Theo's father. I frequently felt like an imbecile, but I enjoyed it nevertheless.
3. Theo gave me a "Minimalist Duck," a French-esque "soup mug," and a set of eight beautiful, wonderful champagne flutes. Christmas has had a pleasant beginning this year.
4. Its end, however, will inevetably be a disappointment. My parents have yet to purchase a single gift for me. Who knows what's going on.
5. I'm working nearly forty hours this week--four hours more than my store manager, and I believe I'm working the most of all the other sales staff. I'm really not happy about that. I spoke to my store manager today about next semester, and as I was having trouble coming up with the most appropriate words, she said "we'll just keep our options open, alright?" So, basically I have full control of the job sit.
6. Everything else apartment related is insane.
That's all for now. Oh, and Theo and I might be fighting again.
It's been quite some time since I last updated. Alright...three days. That's a long time, for my standards. I really don't have much time to type--I've been scheduled to work at Gap at 7:00AM four days out of this week. One of them happens to be tomorrow. I may go into detail about these points later, but for now...
Things that have happened:
1. Erin and I haven't spoken to each other since Friday. I realize it's only Sunday, but that's odd for us. I think we had issues in the car and at Denny's. I hope what i think is going to happen doesn't happen.
2. I had dinner with Theo and his parents on Saturday to celebrate his birthday. We all met at Cafe Absinthe--I was hideously nervous about the whole thing, but I think the affair went quite well. I really enjoyed the company of Theo's father. I frequently felt like an imbecile, but I enjoyed it nevertheless.
3. Theo gave me a "Minimalist Duck," a French-esque "soup mug," and a set of eight beautiful, wonderful champagne flutes. Christmas has had a pleasant beginning this year.
4. Its end, however, will inevetably be a disappointment. My parents have yet to purchase a single gift for me. Who knows what's going on.
5. I'm working nearly forty hours this week--four hours more than my store manager, and I believe I'm working the most of all the other sales staff. I'm really not happy about that. I spoke to my store manager today about next semester, and as I was having trouble coming up with the most appropriate words, she said "we'll just keep our options open, alright?" So, basically I have full control of the job sit.
6. Everything else apartment related is insane.
That's all for now. Oh, and Theo and I might be fighting again.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
Q. "Are you from Missouri?"
A. "Kaaaansas City."
Kansas City, Missouri is one of the more beautiful towns in the midwest (that I've witnessed), and certainly the best town in Missouri. I almost have respect for this state, after visiting its westernmost city. I spent the majority of my time in the Country Club Plaza, an expansive hub of fine shopping and beautiful Spanish-style buildings. KC is known (not to me) as "The City of Fountains;" the plethora of Roman-looking fountains was a pleasant change from the farms and Wal-Marts of the rest of Missouri. Kansas City is also known for its beauiful Christmas decorations--every building was tastefully adorned in lights; I became inebriated from the beauty of the center, and wore a goofy smile on my face for the majority of the trip. (My smile drooped on the way home as I counted at least two dozen adult video stores. What.)
The Plaza contained almost every lower-upper class store you could want--Z Gallerie, Anthropologie, Armani Exchange, Saks Fifth Avenue, Cole Haan, Mark Shale, and more, as well as your standard gigantic Gap, A&F, Banana Republic, and Pottery Barn. I finished all of my Christmas shopping today, aside from Jesse and Shannon. I'm pleased with each and every one of my purchases.
I HAVE TO WORK AT 7:00AM ON SATURDAY. How grossed out am I? Ack.
A. "Kaaaansas City."
Kansas City, Missouri is one of the more beautiful towns in the midwest (that I've witnessed), and certainly the best town in Missouri. I almost have respect for this state, after visiting its westernmost city. I spent the majority of my time in the Country Club Plaza, an expansive hub of fine shopping and beautiful Spanish-style buildings. KC is known (not to me) as "The City of Fountains;" the plethora of Roman-looking fountains was a pleasant change from the farms and Wal-Marts of the rest of Missouri. Kansas City is also known for its beauiful Christmas decorations--every building was tastefully adorned in lights; I became inebriated from the beauty of the center, and wore a goofy smile on my face for the majority of the trip. (My smile drooped on the way home as I counted at least two dozen adult video stores. What.)
The Plaza contained almost every lower-upper class store you could want--Z Gallerie, Anthropologie, Armani Exchange, Saks Fifth Avenue, Cole Haan, Mark Shale, and more, as well as your standard gigantic Gap, A&F, Banana Republic, and Pottery Barn. I finished all of my Christmas shopping today, aside from Jesse and Shannon. I'm pleased with each and every one of my purchases.
I HAVE TO WORK AT 7:00AM ON SATURDAY. How grossed out am I? Ack.
Marks
Final grades are coming back for my classes. I'm doing surprisingly well so far--still have to hear back from Poly Sci and Philosophy, but for now I'm alright. I think it would've been alright if I would have done poorly this semester, becaus after all, this is the very beginning of an entirely different learning process. I assume that everyone performs on a sub-par level their first semester of college, but the subsequent semesters' grades hammer out the dent in every college student's GPA.
Final grades are coming back for my classes. I'm doing surprisingly well so far--still have to hear back from Poly Sci and Philosophy, but for now I'm alright. I think it would've been alright if I would have done poorly this semester, becaus after all, this is the very beginning of an entirely different learning process. I assume that everyone performs on a sub-par level their first semester of college, but the subsequent semesters' grades hammer out the dent in every college student's GPA.
BrownShirt's Book Club
So, I recently finished reading Mitch Albom's Tuesdays With Morrie. I was left feeling apathetic and uninspired. I was expecting a lot more--some prophetic thoughts on life, or at least a few stirring quotations or something. But, alas--the "novel" was trite and base.
I've moved on to Michael Cunningham's Pulitzer-garnered novel The Hours. I have this horribly bland habit of reading novels upon which films are based. So far, I've carved through the first hundred pages, and have been delighted. More to come soon. Oh, and since this is a "book club" (ha), I encourage you all to leave thoughts in the "comment" area. Oh, you know--that link that says "Comment (0)" on the bottom of each page that each and every one of you (save for Tata) has neglected to utilize.
Speaking of TaRa, she and I saw "Maid in Manhattan" this evening. Do I even need to explain to you how terrible it was? Ralph Fiennes is, even as I type this, scouring the want ads in the LA Times, because he will never be hired after this abomination to the American cinematic experience as we know it. My question is, if this film wasn't voted the worst film of the year, how gruesomely hid was "Swept Away?"
Theo and I = fighting again. Sigh.
So, I recently finished reading Mitch Albom's Tuesdays With Morrie. I was left feeling apathetic and uninspired. I was expecting a lot more--some prophetic thoughts on life, or at least a few stirring quotations or something. But, alas--the "novel" was trite and base.
I've moved on to Michael Cunningham's Pulitzer-garnered novel The Hours. I have this horribly bland habit of reading novels upon which films are based. So far, I've carved through the first hundred pages, and have been delighted. More to come soon. Oh, and since this is a "book club" (ha), I encourage you all to leave thoughts in the "comment" area. Oh, you know--that link that says "Comment (0)" on the bottom of each page that each and every one of you (save for Tata) has neglected to utilize.
Speaking of TaRa, she and I saw "Maid in Manhattan" this evening. Do I even need to explain to you how terrible it was? Ralph Fiennes is, even as I type this, scouring the want ads in the LA Times, because he will never be hired after this abomination to the American cinematic experience as we know it. My question is, if this film wasn't voted the worst film of the year, how gruesomely hid was "Swept Away?"
Theo and I = fighting again. Sigh.
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
Sommeil
I am so, so tired. Blech. I have gotten a combined 8 hours of sleep these past two nights--due, in part, by the imbeciles living on my floor. My RA clearly just took the position to make friends, not to be a leader or anything. (I'm really anal.) So it's 2:00AM, and certain ex-roommates of mine are yelling through the hall, "You white motherfucker" and yukking it up with his cohorts. I missed the joke.
Somehow in my eighteen years of existence, I assumed that it generally doesn't thunderstorm in December. But no...in Missouri it does. After it poured for several hours, the rain let up for about ten minutes, so that the clouds could prepare to unleash HAIL. It was so fucking loud. And then this morning, one week until Christmas, it's convertible weather--sunny, warm, dry. This is so insane.
My Astronomy final was alright--I'm not as confident as all-nighter Erin, but oh well. I'm really confident in two, and fairly confident in the other two.
Going out with Tara (I typed "Tata" again...jesus) tonight, then SLEEPING until tomorrow.
"Man, I gotta get out of this town;
man, I gotta get out of this pain..."
I am so, so tired. Blech. I have gotten a combined 8 hours of sleep these past two nights--due, in part, by the imbeciles living on my floor. My RA clearly just took the position to make friends, not to be a leader or anything. (I'm really anal.) So it's 2:00AM, and certain ex-roommates of mine are yelling through the hall, "You white motherfucker" and yukking it up with his cohorts. I missed the joke.
Somehow in my eighteen years of existence, I assumed that it generally doesn't thunderstorm in December. But no...in Missouri it does. After it poured for several hours, the rain let up for about ten minutes, so that the clouds could prepare to unleash HAIL. It was so fucking loud. And then this morning, one week until Christmas, it's convertible weather--sunny, warm, dry. This is so insane.
My Astronomy final was alright--I'm not as confident as all-nighter Erin, but oh well. I'm really confident in two, and fairly confident in the other two.
Going out with Tara (I typed "Tata" again...jesus) tonight, then SLEEPING until tomorrow.
"Man, I gotta get out of this town;
man, I gotta get out of this pain..."
Tuesday, December 17, 2002
Ecstacy
I love how generally, when one has a horrible, shit-shoveling day, that day is generally followed by a really surreal day. Today is (has been at least) my good counterstriking day. I am so confident about the results of my Philosophy exam...so confident, in fact, that I'm even considering studying philosophy. I can be a journalist with a philo. degree, I think.
I'm a Hillcrest Hottie! Kelly's just one of those people here (like so few others) that I sincerely wish I would have gotten to know better over the course of the semester.
I'm going to study "hardcore" with Erin all day today for our Astronomy final. Then, I'm giving myself a wee vacation--I'm going to see "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" seul tomorrow night, going shopping in Kansas City seul Thursday, having devious fun with Erin and Sarah on Thursday night, and coming home Friday!
I'm really quite content now, if you can't tell. The exclamation points sort of give it away.
I love how generally, when one has a horrible, shit-shoveling day, that day is generally followed by a really surreal day. Today is (has been at least) my good counterstriking day. I am so confident about the results of my Philosophy exam...so confident, in fact, that I'm even considering studying philosophy. I can be a journalist with a philo. degree, I think.
I'm a Hillcrest Hottie! Kelly's just one of those people here (like so few others) that I sincerely wish I would have gotten to know better over the course of the semester.
I'm going to study "hardcore" with Erin all day today for our Astronomy final. Then, I'm giving myself a wee vacation--I'm going to see "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" seul tomorrow night, going shopping in Kansas City seul Thursday, having devious fun with Erin and Sarah on Thursday night, and coming home Friday!
I'm really quite content now, if you can't tell. The exclamation points sort of give it away.
FrustratioN!
My frustrated self deemed the last "n" worthy of capitalization. It's futile trying to help people. For me, at least. I always feel like I subconsciously turn everything around onto myself, like I always have to commandeer every conversation. I was trying to help a friend this evening, who had had a few drinks (so it was hopeless), and I just went off on this tangent. He grew angry and hastily signed off. I really cannot help people, nor have I ever been able to help people, so no one shall ever ask for my advice/shoulder again. Thank you.
My blog is so dog-damned boring. Why do you even read this drivel.
Poly-Sci/Philosophy final tomorrow. I cannot sleep due to caffeine overdose. Everyone needs to have an Erin in their lives...unless they're really stupid and conservative and do not think beyond reality.
My frustrated self deemed the last "n" worthy of capitalization. It's futile trying to help people. For me, at least. I always feel like I subconsciously turn everything around onto myself, like I always have to commandeer every conversation. I was trying to help a friend this evening, who had had a few drinks (so it was hopeless), and I just went off on this tangent. He grew angry and hastily signed off. I really cannot help people, nor have I ever been able to help people, so no one shall ever ask for my advice/shoulder again. Thank you.
My blog is so dog-damned boring. Why do you even read this drivel.
Poly-Sci/Philosophy final tomorrow. I cannot sleep due to caffeine overdose. Everyone needs to have an Erin in their lives...unless they're really stupid and conservative and do not think beyond reality.
Monday, December 16, 2002
Fucking shit fuck fuck
I did something really stupid today. Or rather, I didn't do something today. Either way, I'm fucked big time. I hatehatehate what I do to myself! Aaghh. Plus, I have to buy about 800 gifts this week.
My French final went well. Mlle. Cisse is writing a letter of recommendation for me--horray!
That's all. Studying much today.
I did something really stupid today. Or rather, I didn't do something today. Either way, I'm fucked big time. I hatehatehate what I do to myself! Aaghh. Plus, I have to buy about 800 gifts this week.
My French final went well. Mlle. Cisse is writing a letter of recommendation for me--horray!
That's all. Studying much today.
Sunday, December 15, 2002
Musings
How glad am I that I saved all of those triangular-shaped notes I received in my middle-school heyday. They kept me entertained for hours last night, while I was supposed to be cleaning out my closet. Things seemed so complicated back then--in a trivial way. Our letters could very well pass for soap opera fodder. Oh, and I was really into writing love letters to random girls, and luckily I saved a copy of most of them. I was just way too charming for my age. I'll scan one and post it here someday.
I'm in BIG trouble with the law. Ok, so not really big trouble. But enough trouble to make me angry/frustrated. I dont'e ver ever want to drive another car again. As long as I live.
My weekend at home was good--theo and I saw a superb film last night, "Personal Velocity." It was great--really made me realize that the best films are ones shot with a minimal budget, few locations, and a home camcorder. It really...made me think. Which is something a film hasn't done for quite some time.
I really enjoy driving my father's van. I feel so much safer, almost empowered, when I'm high above everyone else on the road. Erin and I never cease to amuse ourselves--for the last hour of the trip, we sang the blues like always--although this time, our songs were improved by a primo rhythm section, even though we didn't have Frisbee the Slinky to assist us in our musical endeavours. Who would have thought that we could transcend our past musical experiences in the car with clapping? It was great. I don't want this to be our last trip home.
French final--tomorrow--10:30AM. (I'll) be there.
How glad am I that I saved all of those triangular-shaped notes I received in my middle-school heyday. They kept me entertained for hours last night, while I was supposed to be cleaning out my closet. Things seemed so complicated back then--in a trivial way. Our letters could very well pass for soap opera fodder. Oh, and I was really into writing love letters to random girls, and luckily I saved a copy of most of them. I was just way too charming for my age. I'll scan one and post it here someday.
I'm in BIG trouble with the law. Ok, so not really big trouble. But enough trouble to make me angry/frustrated. I dont'e ver ever want to drive another car again. As long as I live.
My weekend at home was good--theo and I saw a superb film last night, "Personal Velocity." It was great--really made me realize that the best films are ones shot with a minimal budget, few locations, and a home camcorder. It really...made me think. Which is something a film hasn't done for quite some time.
I really enjoy driving my father's van. I feel so much safer, almost empowered, when I'm high above everyone else on the road. Erin and I never cease to amuse ourselves--for the last hour of the trip, we sang the blues like always--although this time, our songs were improved by a primo rhythm section, even though we didn't have Frisbee the Slinky to assist us in our musical endeavours. Who would have thought that we could transcend our past musical experiences in the car with clapping? It was great. I don't want this to be our last trip home.
French final--tomorrow--10:30AM. (I'll) be there.
Saturday, December 14, 2002
A la maison
I'm home again. Just for the weekend. Not too thrilling.
Last night, after a long series of angry phone conversations, I went over to Theo's house and watched a bit of television. It was good.
Today began at around 12:30 for me, for some reason. Oh, yes--I was awoken at 5:30AM to help with some computer malfunction, so my sister could print some paper. My family will never learn how to use a computer...who knows what they'll do when I leave.
I went to Geneva Commons with Erin, did some Christmas shopping (Liz/Aunt J), ate at Cosi, and studied for about 87 hours at her house. Right now I'm watching "Monster's Ball."
Tomorrow, Chicago with Theo, and that's about it. This may be the most boring post I've ever conceived. Even I'm getting sleepy rereading it all.
I'm home again. Just for the weekend. Not too thrilling.
Last night, after a long series of angry phone conversations, I went over to Theo's house and watched a bit of television. It was good.
Today began at around 12:30 for me, for some reason. Oh, yes--I was awoken at 5:30AM to help with some computer malfunction, so my sister could print some paper. My family will never learn how to use a computer...who knows what they'll do when I leave.
I went to Geneva Commons with Erin, did some Christmas shopping (Liz/Aunt J), ate at Cosi, and studied for about 87 hours at her house. Right now I'm watching "Monster's Ball."
Tomorrow, Chicago with Theo, and that's about it. This may be the most boring post I've ever conceived. Even I'm getting sleepy rereading it all.
Wednesday, December 11, 2002
Don't let the math scare you
I hate my life. I really do. I was reminded today (by Theo, who suddenly questioned my motives for leaving Mizzou) how I made the decision not to come to Missouri for school this semester, based on the rediculous notion that I would have to live in a dorm on another college's campus a mile away from the heart of my university. But, no...I resolved to put the negatives aside and focus on the known variables of this equation called college--learning new and interesting things(a), meeting people so similar to me and so different from me(+b), and overall having the best four years of my life(=c).
I did accomplish all of those things, ironically enough. Well, "a" and "b" at least. I learned new things, like intense conservatism and closedmindedness, and interesting things, like how to gut a possum and chew Spam with only 7.5 teeth. I met Tara (I spelled her name "Tata" originally and giggled) and Sarah, and of course my Erin, who are all (seemingly) very similar to me. Everyone else...well, I was exposed to new people and new "ideas." That's all I have to say. But unfortunately, these factors didn't constitute a complete "c."
So, I'm moving on. I made a mistake and I'm righting it, in what I would deem a very good way. I am, as of last night, getting increasingly more anxious/nervous about my new situation, including my place of living and as-of-yet unknown university (I lied, Jeff--my winter semester plans aren't QUITE in stone yet). I throw myself into these situations where I have little to no control, and just expect things to work themselves out in the end, like some modern, horrid Dickens tale.
I'm going to go move my car now.
I hate my life. I really do. I was reminded today (by Theo, who suddenly questioned my motives for leaving Mizzou) how I made the decision not to come to Missouri for school this semester, based on the rediculous notion that I would have to live in a dorm on another college's campus a mile away from the heart of my university. But, no...I resolved to put the negatives aside and focus on the known variables of this equation called college--learning new and interesting things(a), meeting people so similar to me and so different from me(+b), and overall having the best four years of my life(=c).
I did accomplish all of those things, ironically enough. Well, "a" and "b" at least. I learned new things, like intense conservatism and closedmindedness, and interesting things, like how to gut a possum and chew Spam with only 7.5 teeth. I met Tara (I spelled her name "Tata" originally and giggled) and Sarah, and of course my Erin, who are all (seemingly) very similar to me. Everyone else...well, I was exposed to new people and new "ideas." That's all I have to say. But unfortunately, these factors didn't constitute a complete "c."
So, I'm moving on. I made a mistake and I'm righting it, in what I would deem a very good way. I am, as of last night, getting increasingly more anxious/nervous about my new situation, including my place of living and as-of-yet unknown university (I lied, Jeff--my winter semester plans aren't QUITE in stone yet). I throw myself into these situations where I have little to no control, and just expect things to work themselves out in the end, like some modern, horrid Dickens tale.
I'm going to go move my car now.
*Furling brow*
I don't actually know why. So don't ponder.
This week, like the weeks preceding it, has flown by quite rapidly. Few interesting things have happened to me, I'm afraid. Monday, I finished Stephen King's most recent collection of short stories, "Everything's Eventual," which was fairly decent. I always feel like a teenage girl reading King...his works have become adolescent "scare me" fodder. Tuesday, which I must remind myself is (well, was) today, was even blander than Monday. I had fun with Tara at the bookstore, ate and studied with Erin, and wrote a paper about global economics. I'm so relieved I'm coming home in a few days--I have officially run out of clean socks, and have very few fun shirts left to wear. Sigh.
I've been packing my things up these past few days--I feel like I came here with a lot less than I'm leaving with. Two car trips may not be satisfactory.
My apartmental (ha) future is back on track! I spoke to Shannon today (Yesterday? Shit.) and everything's finalized. I'm so excited! I have two windows, my OWN BATHROOM with a BATHTUB, hardwood floors, and wonderful queer-friendly roommates! I'm really excited about this prospect, if you can't tell. I hope to move in by December 29 (my parents' wedding anniversary, consequently). I feel like, for once in my life, things are finally looking up.
Oh, and one administrative thing--I'm going to take the commenting program off my Blog--no one uses them, and they sully the demure elegance of my journal. So, there.
I don't actually know why. So don't ponder.
This week, like the weeks preceding it, has flown by quite rapidly. Few interesting things have happened to me, I'm afraid. Monday, I finished Stephen King's most recent collection of short stories, "Everything's Eventual," which was fairly decent. I always feel like a teenage girl reading King...his works have become adolescent "scare me" fodder. Tuesday, which I must remind myself is (well, was) today, was even blander than Monday. I had fun with Tara at the bookstore, ate and studied with Erin, and wrote a paper about global economics. I'm so relieved I'm coming home in a few days--I have officially run out of clean socks, and have very few fun shirts left to wear. Sigh.
I've been packing my things up these past few days--I feel like I came here with a lot less than I'm leaving with. Two car trips may not be satisfactory.
My apartmental (ha) future is back on track! I spoke to Shannon today (Yesterday? Shit.) and everything's finalized. I'm so excited! I have two windows, my OWN BATHROOM with a BATHTUB, hardwood floors, and wonderful queer-friendly roommates! I'm really excited about this prospect, if you can't tell. I hope to move in by December 29 (my parents' wedding anniversary, consequently). I feel like, for once in my life, things are finally looking up.
Oh, and one administrative thing--I'm going to take the commenting program off my Blog--no one uses them, and they sully the demure elegance of my journal. So, there.
Sunday, December 08, 2002
The History of...
"Boy in brown shirt"
Many have asked me these past few weeks about the origin of my screen name/E-mail address/Blog's URL. "Boy in brown shirt" is what Theo referred to me as in his Blog (November 3), after we met in person at a Prospect Pride meeting. (I'm not going to go into grave detail about the whole affair, as far as why he was writing about me in the first place...make something up.) I was wearing this courdoroy-type (that is SO not how that is spelled) tan button-down shirt that evening, and the name stuck. To this day, I have never worn that shirt again. In fact, I have cut it up and used it to adorn several gifts to Theo.
More history lessons to come...if anyone asks me any obscure questions.
"Boy in brown shirt"
Many have asked me these past few weeks about the origin of my screen name/E-mail address/Blog's URL. "Boy in brown shirt" is what Theo referred to me as in his Blog (November 3), after we met in person at a Prospect Pride meeting. (I'm not going to go into grave detail about the whole affair, as far as why he was writing about me in the first place...make something up.) I was wearing this courdoroy-type (that is SO not how that is spelled) tan button-down shirt that evening, and the name stuck. To this day, I have never worn that shirt again. In fact, I have cut it up and used it to adorn several gifts to Theo.
More history lessons to come...if anyone asks me any obscure questions.
Sunday, Sunday
it's getting harder and harder to come up with relevant headings for each posting. Have mercy.
Erin and I rented Pumpkin today, an accurately farcical indepedent film about a sorostitute who falls in love with a mentally impaired man. It was really enjoyable and sad and wonderful. Christina Ricci--rock on.
I only have four days left of class, and then I take half of my belongings home, and then I have a few finals, and then I come home for good. Every day, I feel more and more out of place here, like a can of Spam in a Louis Vuitton suitcase. Or rather, I feel like a Louis Vuitton suitcase stranded in some gravel-runway airport in Alabama. That's more accurate.
My future is so up in the air--my conversation with C. Shannon this evening really clarified that. I have ten days (starting Dec. 21) to:
1. Move into my apartment
2. Transfer to the Broadway Gap
3. Get into a university
4. Have Christmas/New Year's/etc.
5. Work at my current Gap
I'm sure there are more things that I've forgotten that I'll panic about in the middle of the night. Well, i should get on that.
it's getting harder and harder to come up with relevant headings for each posting. Have mercy.
Erin and I rented Pumpkin today, an accurately farcical indepedent film about a sorostitute who falls in love with a mentally impaired man. It was really enjoyable and sad and wonderful. Christina Ricci--rock on.
I only have four days left of class, and then I take half of my belongings home, and then I have a few finals, and then I come home for good. Every day, I feel more and more out of place here, like a can of Spam in a Louis Vuitton suitcase. Or rather, I feel like a Louis Vuitton suitcase stranded in some gravel-runway airport in Alabama. That's more accurate.
My future is so up in the air--my conversation with C. Shannon this evening really clarified that. I have ten days (starting Dec. 21) to:
1. Move into my apartment
2. Transfer to the Broadway Gap
3. Get into a university
4. Have Christmas/New Year's/etc.
5. Work at my current Gap
I'm sure there are more things that I've forgotten that I'll panic about in the middle of the night. Well, i should get on that.
Apathy in the form of a day
I spent the former part of my day (which began at1:30PM) convincing Erin that I wasn't angry or anything with her. Then, I spent the latter part of my day in St. Louis. First, shopping at the Galleria, and then to Chris Jensen's chmber choir concert. I'm a big musical homo, so of course I love all choir concerts like I was the parent to all 30 musicians onstage. The concert itself was long, but the music was amazing--the vocalists were well above-par, and the selections were brilliant in themselves. I've always had a soft spot for performing in/listening to choirs, and being there really made me want to be in choir again. As a baritone, this time around. None of that tenor-shmenor shit. One last thing about the concert: the last time I've seen this many Jews in one place was last month's storewide clearance sale at Neimann-Marcus. Oy.
Oh, and don't take offense to that. J'adore les juifs.
I spent the former part of my day (which began at1:30PM) convincing Erin that I wasn't angry or anything with her. Then, I spent the latter part of my day in St. Louis. First, shopping at the Galleria, and then to Chris Jensen's chmber choir concert. I'm a big musical homo, so of course I love all choir concerts like I was the parent to all 30 musicians onstage. The concert itself was long, but the music was amazing--the vocalists were well above-par, and the selections were brilliant in themselves. I've always had a soft spot for performing in/listening to choirs, and being there really made me want to be in choir again. As a baritone, this time around. None of that tenor-shmenor shit. One last thing about the concert: the last time I've seen this many Jews in one place was last month's storewide clearance sale at Neimann-Marcus. Oy.
Oh, and don't take offense to that. J'adore les juifs.
Saturday, December 07, 2002
Misconceptions
There was a time, a time not long ago at all, that I thought Erin and I could do anything. There's a connection that best friends have that make each person feel invincible to all pain, better judgement, and reason. But, as I learned tonight, this is simply (cynically) not the case. We all live our own lives, and have to stand en guarde against our own fears and morals. Angry? Only at myself, I suppose, for being so naive to think that friendship is some wond'rous chastity belt against all the evil genitalia of the world, and that such an unseen, unprovable theory can enable people to ignore their own fears. Disappointed? Yes, but I'll get over it when Erin and I do something fun again in the future.
There was a time, a time not long ago at all, that I thought Erin and I could do anything. There's a connection that best friends have that make each person feel invincible to all pain, better judgement, and reason. But, as I learned tonight, this is simply (cynically) not the case. We all live our own lives, and have to stand en guarde against our own fears and morals. Angry? Only at myself, I suppose, for being so naive to think that friendship is some wond'rous chastity belt against all the evil genitalia of the world, and that such an unseen, unprovable theory can enable people to ignore their own fears. Disappointed? Yes, but I'll get over it when Erin and I do something fun again in the future.
Friday, December 06, 2002
Idle Memory #902 (And some assorted musings)
We were discussing the bathroom/water closet principle in French class today. For some reason, I immediately was reminded of the Hotel Aphrodite in Rome. Theo and I arrived in Rome around 1:00AM (midnight, maybe?) and of course hadn't a single hotel reservation made. So, after fending off the evil hostel salesmen in Rome's train station, we plodded out and called several hotels. After about the eighth try, we finalyl found a horribly expensive place, ironically named the Hotel Aphrodite. This place was just horrible...80 Euros paid for two doll-sized beds, a disgusting floor, a "lovely" view of two naked prostitutes in a window opposite ours, a fan with ho oscilation, and (this is what jogged my memory) a bathroom with a shower. But, this was no ordinary shower: it was actually just a hose protruding from the wall. No bathtub, no curtain...just a drain hole in the middle of the bathroom floor. I think we tried to flood the bathroom, to show our disdain. Rome wasn't one of my favorite places on the trip.
My father is such a wax philosopher, or so he'd like to think. I get these e-mails that are just insane, but really "cute" and thoughtful. It is nice to have a sturdy home life.
Someone down the hall from me is playing the "Let's Get Soakin' Wet" song. Hmm...I don't understand.
We were discussing the bathroom/water closet principle in French class today. For some reason, I immediately was reminded of the Hotel Aphrodite in Rome. Theo and I arrived in Rome around 1:00AM (midnight, maybe?) and of course hadn't a single hotel reservation made. So, after fending off the evil hostel salesmen in Rome's train station, we plodded out and called several hotels. After about the eighth try, we finalyl found a horribly expensive place, ironically named the Hotel Aphrodite. This place was just horrible...80 Euros paid for two doll-sized beds, a disgusting floor, a "lovely" view of two naked prostitutes in a window opposite ours, a fan with ho oscilation, and (this is what jogged my memory) a bathroom with a shower. But, this was no ordinary shower: it was actually just a hose protruding from the wall. No bathtub, no curtain...just a drain hole in the middle of the bathroom floor. I think we tried to flood the bathroom, to show our disdain. Rome wasn't one of my favorite places on the trip.
My father is such a wax philosopher, or so he'd like to think. I get these e-mails that are just insane, but really "cute" and thoughtful. It is nice to have a sturdy home life.
Someone down the hall from me is playing the "Let's Get Soakin' Wet" song. Hmm...I don't understand.
Thursday, December 05, 2002
Baise-moi
Aujourd'hui, j'ai commence le jour avec mauvais chance. Pour le cours de Francais, j'ai arrive avec ni mon cahier ni ma cerveau. Je suis tres stupide. Pendant le classe, j'ai ne sais pas rien. Je deteste etre non prepare. Donc, je suis ecriture dans ma Blog en le Francais. Vous allez a Babelfish pour traduire cette paragraphe. Merci.
(Babelfish fucks the shit out of real French. The translation looks like something David Sedaris would say.)
New W&G tonight.
Aujourd'hui, j'ai commence le jour avec mauvais chance. Pour le cours de Francais, j'ai arrive avec ni mon cahier ni ma cerveau. Je suis tres stupide. Pendant le classe, j'ai ne sais pas rien. Je deteste etre non prepare. Donc, je suis ecriture dans ma Blog en le Francais. Vous allez a Babelfish pour traduire cette paragraphe. Merci.
(Babelfish fucks the shit out of real French. The translation looks like something David Sedaris would say.)
New W&G tonight.
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
Flatlined
Now that I'm back, Blogging my soul away, I have nothing to write about. Nothing exciting/dramatic/noteworthy happens anymore. I've decided to quit, for the third time in the span of a month. We'll see if it "takes." This weekend will inevetably involve me seeing a movie solo on Friday (it's not as depressing as it sounds, honestly), and heading over to Wash. U on Saturday for a concert. I do really live a mundane life. Does someone want to irritate me, so that I have something to kvetch about? That wouldn't be terribly bad.
Now that I'm back, Blogging my soul away, I have nothing to write about. Nothing exciting/dramatic/noteworthy happens anymore. I've decided to quit, for the third time in the span of a month. We'll see if it "takes." This weekend will inevetably involve me seeing a movie solo on Friday (it's not as depressing as it sounds, honestly), and heading over to Wash. U on Saturday for a concert. I do really live a mundane life. Does someone want to irritate me, so that I have something to kvetch about? That wouldn't be terribly bad.
Tuesday, December 03, 2002
Pro
The only reason (aside from Erin) I would consider staying in Missouri next semester is the state's weather. Monday was a gloriously sunny day--I was awoken by the bright sunlight washing into my room. I stepped outside, expecting another frigid winter day, only to be wrapped in the warmth of an Indian Fall. The entire day was beautiful.
Erin and I had a Dangerous Liasons day. After watching the majority of Valmont on AMC (A remake of the novel/film), she and I rented the original Glenn Close period film and watched it. I did enjoy it.
A brief list of films to rent:
1. Dangerous Liasons
2. The Anniversary Party
3. Italian for Beginners
4. Lovely and Amazing
5. Monsters, Inc.
I found the perfect bed on CB2's website. All I'm getting for Christmas is furniture, and some conservative Republican propaganda from my grandfather. Isn't that depressing? I suppose, yadda yadda yadda, children in Somalia/Harlem/Carpentersville are lucky if they even get to eat and shower (Cyndi!) on Christmas day. I'm done complaining, I suppose.
I'm really left with nothing to complain about, now that my future happiness is partially secure.
The only reason (aside from Erin) I would consider staying in Missouri next semester is the state's weather. Monday was a gloriously sunny day--I was awoken by the bright sunlight washing into my room. I stepped outside, expecting another frigid winter day, only to be wrapped in the warmth of an Indian Fall. The entire day was beautiful.
Erin and I had a Dangerous Liasons day. After watching the majority of Valmont on AMC (A remake of the novel/film), she and I rented the original Glenn Close period film and watched it. I did enjoy it.
A brief list of films to rent:
1. Dangerous Liasons
2. The Anniversary Party
3. Italian for Beginners
4. Lovely and Amazing
5. Monsters, Inc.
I found the perfect bed on CB2's website. All I'm getting for Christmas is furniture, and some conservative Republican propaganda from my grandfather. Isn't that depressing? I suppose, yadda yadda yadda, children in Somalia/Harlem/Carpentersville are lucky if they even get to eat and shower (Cyndi!) on Christmas day. I'm done complaining, I suppose.
I'm really left with nothing to complain about, now that my future happiness is partially secure.
Sunday, December 01, 2002
Idle Memory #859
Our first kiss--it was on Thanksgiving, a year ago. Theo and I had just seen "Amelie" at AMC30, and were strolling through his neighbourhood (it was not as chilly last year) at a late hour. I started driving away, headed for home and a horde of thinking, as his Saturn pulls up into the intersection.
"I turn left, correct?" I naively asked.
"Yes, but I was wondering if it would be alright if I kissed you."
"Sure," I replied, with an enthusiastic grin.
He hopped into my car, and we kissed. It was so foreign--not only a new mouth, but a completely different style. I was used to the passionate, frantic hunger of a kiss, with tongue, teeth, and lips all swirling into a dissonant symphony. But this, this was different: more careful, delicate, like a wet paint brush dancing across textured canvas. His nose was moist; I immediately endeared that perfectly flawed trait. I drove home and pondered even more than I planned to.
Our first kiss--it was on Thanksgiving, a year ago. Theo and I had just seen "Amelie" at AMC30, and were strolling through his neighbourhood (it was not as chilly last year) at a late hour. I started driving away, headed for home and a horde of thinking, as his Saturn pulls up into the intersection.
"I turn left, correct?" I naively asked.
"Yes, but I was wondering if it would be alright if I kissed you."
"Sure," I replied, with an enthusiastic grin.
He hopped into my car, and we kissed. It was so foreign--not only a new mouth, but a completely different style. I was used to the passionate, frantic hunger of a kiss, with tongue, teeth, and lips all swirling into a dissonant symphony. But this, this was different: more careful, delicate, like a wet paint brush dancing across textured canvas. His nose was moist; I immediately endeared that perfectly flawed trait. I drove home and pondered even more than I planned to.