Useless crap.

I find it important to weave strands of the past into the textiles of the present and future. Take me, one year ago--I was in a new environment doing something I'd never done before. Regardless of how many otherwise-unexplored things I dealt with, I always had Erin to connect me to myself and my memories. Truly, I can only remember my fondest moments of Mizzou now, and nearly all of them involved her in one way or another. Now, I have Lauren, my partner in crime throughout high school (and hopefully into the next chapter of our lives), to once again ground myself and force me to remember what I've achieved and experienced so far. I may live in the past too much, but I think that one must take two steps forward in life, and then take a single step back, to be able to appreciate how he came to this point--to see the full collage instead of just the one condensed segment.

My first day of class. Somehow, I mistakenly enrolled in a poetry-writing advanced ADVANCED course, and I have no idea what I should do. I'm thinking I should do Wednesday's workshop and see where to go from there. (Those of you who don't know me and my relationship with poetry--I generally despise it and cannot write it. I'm way too verbose.)

More stress culminated when I realized that Tripp and I share a class together, European Film. It's horrible, because I don't know what terms we're on, or how to stealthily approach the situation. Or, if there's even a situation to approach, since I'm beginning to feel like the entire gay male population at Loyola despises me. (But then again, conversations between me and acquaintances never really go well, because I start getting weird and then start saying what I'm thinking about myself and in the end I just want to flee the social crime scene, as it were.)

I'm going to have 1,000 papers due, and I have to do class presentations in two or three of my classes--something I hoped I'd never have to do again.

This post was blandoori.

Tradition

For as long as I've been able and willing to swallow pills, I've taken one sleeping pill each night before the dawn of a new school year. This day has always found me awash in a thousand scattered emotions--excitement, fear, anxiety, curiosity. This year, I feel void of all of these. I have no real idea what the next several months will present me with, nor have I had the time to analyze the possible perils I will make my own and grow from. I suppose all that I can hope for is the best.

Freedom

Today and tomorrow have been officially designated "responsibility-free" days by me, since starting Monday, I'll be waking up at 7AM every morning and working all weekend every weekend. I'm really not ready to begin school again--my summer moved at such a frantic pace, what with working and taking classes. Bah.

I've spent my week reinforcing stereotypes--got my nails done, eyebrows waxed (complete with long red scabs!), and went shopping. I bought some white pants (cheap!), some shirts to wear to work that aren't from Gap, and this great coat (left) from the Polo Ralph Lauren store. They're tailoring it for me and everything.

Tonight, hopefully Theo and I will spend some time not fighting.

Important Political Propaganda

(A letter I've been requested to send to my fellow voters)

Hello!

I’m writing you because I want you to join me at a Dean campaign event that I'm attending. Howard Dean is the only candidate running for President who says what he thinks, and acts on what he says. I think he’s dead on, and the only candidate making sense about foreign policy, health care, and fiscal responsibility. Dean is not only taking on Bush, but directly addressing the failures of the Democratic party to give people a reason to vote. He also has a powerful record of success as Governor of Vermont. If you don’t know about him, visit his website:

http://deanforamerica.com

You can sign up for my event here: http://action.deanforamerica.com
Type in your zip code and find my event in the list of events in our area.

I don’t want money to decide who leads this country, and for the first time in a long time, it might not because Dean is running a very grassroots campaign that relies upon people like us to go out and spread the word.

Its inspiring to be a part of something this big, but where each of us still counts. Even if this is the first time you have heard of Howard Dean, or if you are unsure about who you support, please come along and learn more. Howard Dean's campaign is important to me, personally, and I think it is critical to the country. Also, it should be fun.

Thanks! I hope you come! Here's the info on the event(s):

People-Powered Howard Sleepless Summer Tour
Navy Pier, Terrace D Rooftop, 600 East Grand Avenue
Tuesday, August 26, 11:00 AM
Come join Howard Dean and thousands of others as we rally to take our country back! 11:00AM-1:00PM

Hope any of you in the Chicagoland area who share similar views with Dean on abortion, war, education, taxes, and gay rights (which can be viewed here) are able to attend.

More from me to come soon.

Market Days "Pre-Party"

My Market Days weekend began shortly after 1:00AM, when the city crews began making as much noise as they could assembling and placing the "Road Closed" blockades. This was directly followed by the "market crews" erecting their lead pipe tents. From what I could tell, either they were drunk while assembling their "markets," or they were trying their damnedest to make as much noise as possible. A miraculous fifteen minutes of sleep fit its way into there somehow, which ended as Theo came into his room to ask why I wasn't sleeping in my own bed (he kept rolling on top of me, or "climbing all over me," as I bluntly put it). Then...ta da! Like some sick joke, the sun emerges and says to me, "Nay, nay, Brian--no sleep for you tonight."

So, I put an end to my angry thrashing about in bed, took a shower, and headed towards IHOP, the only place I could think of that was serving food at 6:40AM. I brought a few books with me and this morning's Tribune, hoping to catch up on some reading. Oh, but no...

Mr. Smelly McDrunk from the adjacent booth strikes up a Hall & Oates-themed conversation with me (Note to self: who the FUCK are Hall & Oates? Will research later), and asks if he can come over and talk with me for a few minutes. So, we discuss life...or rather, he loudly, erratically tells me about his life. He never mentioned that he was homeless, and he very well may not be, but judging from his situation ("I have nothing to live for," etc.), and the way he was eyeing my bacon, I assume he was. So, two hours later, and after my waiter passed my/our table and mouthed the words, "are you ok?" to me every five minutes, Jeff (he never introduced himself, but he liked to talk in the third person) and I parted ways.

Now I am at home, tired, crabby, and ill-feeling. Looking forward to a grrrreat day!

Knock-off Art

Theo and I just saw what I am about to brazenly call "the year's best film": Stephen Frears' Dirty Pretty Things. Unsurprisingly, this is not a typical film, nor is it American. This British film, starring (among others) Audrey Tautou (Amelie) in her most demanding role so far, revolves around the shady dealings of a London hotel and the illegal immigrants who are both disgusted and tempted by this false freedom said "dealings" give. Mike Meyer's tagline for Wayne's World comes to mind when I think of this gem: I laughed, I cried, I hurled. This movie played the roles of moving drama, gruesome thriller, delightful comedy, and elegant romance without allowing a single drip of sweat to roll down its brow. I urge everyone to see and enjoy this film.

I find it ironic that the two films I've seen this year (British mystery Swimming Pool being the other) that have given me just cause to respect film as an art form did not carry US passports. One of America's most acclaimed creative outlets has, over the course of several decades, turned into an industry, like oil mining or lumberjacking. Except, instead of raping Earth, we're raping the fundamental goal of film: to brush the vast pallette of human emotions onto a fluid canvas. Numbers are not art--art is made of colors, words, emotions, and independent thought. I wish that these so-called artists we throw our $9.00 at every Friday night would start living up to their craft, instead of cranking out these sweatshop knock-offs we buy, thinking to ourselves, "It's close enough to the real thing."

Another Non-Post

Yes, it's that time of the year again: Gap Friends and Family Days are upon us once again. Since I'm just that charitable, I'll share the online code with all of you so that you may enjoy a 30% discount on all items purchased between Thursday, August 7 through Sunday August 10 from Gap.com. It is:

FFDAYGAP

Simply enter this code at the checkout in the appropriate box. In case you need this information, I work at Gap # 503.

As far as the fall line goes, I'm quite pleased with what our designers have conjured up for the women's line. A lot of paisley blouses, great new washes in our low-rise boot cut and long and leans, and a definite emphasis on "fashion," as opposed to "K-Mart basic sweats," which has been our overall look for some time. Oh, and our new women's bags have a definite Dior feel to them, with their cargo pockets and nice detail work. They were created by Marc Jacobs' bag designer, which is kind of exciting.

As one might expect, the men's line is bland, big, and boring. Everything you saw/purchased last fall at Gap is again available, for $5-10 more. My store is called a "top store," which means we bring in more money than most stores and therefore have access to the more fashionable pieces of each line. We now carry the men's version of the low-rise boot fit, which were surprisingly alright. Not fitted enough for me, of course, but I think that many of you would like them.

Theo's grandmother is dying, so I probably won't be seeing him for several days, as she'll be buried in Texas. Lauren and Katie's birthday party was fun, yet horrible and sad at the same time. I have the rest of the week off of work, which means I will inevetably loll around the apartment and watch a lot of movies and (hopefully) get a nice dent in the books I've purchased this summer that I haven't gotten a chance to read. That's all, I suppose.