Too tired to really write about this.
As if this week couldn't get any worse...
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.
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Guest Appearances
I figured that, since I've found myself running into characters of my past today, I should post, to perhaps remedy this strange phenomenon. I saw Tish and her mannish sidekick today, two women who directed several shows I was in. Curtis, an old friend/stalker, was sitting in Roscoe's (at 6:00PM, no less) talking it up with a few fellows. Lastly, Michelle Andriano (a CTE alum) was standing in the check-out line one person behind me today at Jewel. Fortunately, my hair acted as a mask and none of these people recognized me, or at least, did not stop and strike up a conversation. Who next? My old babysitter? My choir teacher?
Speaking of...and I will get to the connection shortly...how is homosexuality still something that people frown upon? In this open-minded era, where 400,000 people attend a gay-themed parade in Chicago, "Will and Grace" is a popular sitcom, and the majority of the Supreme Court thinks gays should be entitled to privacy just like anyone else, why do some people still think that we're degenerative, sick fucks? Since I've moved to Chicago (home of the nation's largest gay population, many sources believe), I've been severely harassed twice, the most recent while waiting for the El. Not a month goes by that I don't hear "fag" or "homo" or some other slur shouted from a passing car. And, I've recently learned that my choir teacher found it appropriate to pass along second-hand information she received while working at Jacobs about me and my sexuality to her daughter, someone I used to feign friendship with. We may have been closer had she not made it her duty to inform me, at least once every time we gathered, that she thought homosexuality was disgusting and horrible. Allegedly, she asked Lauren, our mutual friend, "So, is Brian STILL gay?" Yes, that's the same tone one would use when asking, "So, is Madonna still into Judaism?" Like this is a phase or something.
I just wish I could avoid my past more successfully. The memories of people and events that have displeased me over the years have, for the most part, been dumped into a garbage bag and placed in the nether-regions of my brain. But I don't have much power over keeping the real people my memories represent from making guest appearances in my life.
I figured that, since I've found myself running into characters of my past today, I should post, to perhaps remedy this strange phenomenon. I saw Tish and her mannish sidekick today, two women who directed several shows I was in. Curtis, an old friend/stalker, was sitting in Roscoe's (at 6:00PM, no less) talking it up with a few fellows. Lastly, Michelle Andriano (a CTE alum) was standing in the check-out line one person behind me today at Jewel. Fortunately, my hair acted as a mask and none of these people recognized me, or at least, did not stop and strike up a conversation. Who next? My old babysitter? My choir teacher?
Speaking of...and I will get to the connection shortly...how is homosexuality still something that people frown upon? In this open-minded era, where 400,000 people attend a gay-themed parade in Chicago, "Will and Grace" is a popular sitcom, and the majority of the Supreme Court thinks gays should be entitled to privacy just like anyone else, why do some people still think that we're degenerative, sick fucks? Since I've moved to Chicago (home of the nation's largest gay population, many sources believe), I've been severely harassed twice, the most recent while waiting for the El. Not a month goes by that I don't hear "fag" or "homo" or some other slur shouted from a passing car. And, I've recently learned that my choir teacher found it appropriate to pass along second-hand information she received while working at Jacobs about me and my sexuality to her daughter, someone I used to feign friendship with. We may have been closer had she not made it her duty to inform me, at least once every time we gathered, that she thought homosexuality was disgusting and horrible. Allegedly, she asked Lauren, our mutual friend, "So, is Brian STILL gay?" Yes, that's the same tone one would use when asking, "So, is Madonna still into Judaism?" Like this is a phase or something.
I just wish I could avoid my past more successfully. The memories of people and events that have displeased me over the years have, for the most part, been dumped into a garbage bag and placed in the nether-regions of my brain. But I don't have much power over keeping the real people my memories represent from making guest appearances in my life.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Thursday, July 10, 2003
Uncharted Landmasses
I'm simply not ready. Ready to deal with things I never thought I'd have to face--at least not now, at this under-developed phase in my life. But, I suppose since I've made it a point to "grow up" quickly, what with getting an apartment in a metropolitan city, living with my boyfriend, and striving to gain a sense of the word "independence," I have no choice but to travel to the less glamourous continents of my new world.
I'm simply not ready. Ready to deal with things I never thought I'd have to face--at least not now, at this under-developed phase in my life. But, I suppose since I've made it a point to "grow up" quickly, what with getting an apartment in a metropolitan city, living with my boyfriend, and striving to gain a sense of the word "independence," I have no choice but to travel to the less glamourous continents of my new world.
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
When will we finally change?
I was enjoying today's Tribune when I came across Eric Zorn's column today, entitled "Media failed on porch alert, past accidents." He included a quotation from NSC president Alan McMillan, as follows:
"It seems to be a natural tendency to wait for tragedy to provide the catalyst for change."
He, of course, was referring to the possibility of laws dictating porch capacities attached Chicago's six-flat apartment buildings, and went so far (which I found interesting) to include similar laws passed regarding the use of pepper spray indoors (the E2 disaster, February 2003) and the stringent indoor-pyrotechnic policies now in effect (the Rhode Island concert venue fire, also February 2003).
One could go so far as to say that until September 11, National Security was not a common term found in the media. But in its aftermath, amid the dust and death came decrees for tighter security in our nation. It was only after such a "tragedy" that we saw how vulnerable we were to outside forces, regardless of social stati or occupations.
We as humans, and especially Americans, have a natural propensity to approach everything with a naive, carefree attitude. "So what if I smoke?" "I'm just a social drinker." "Who cares about that friend?" "I really needed a new pair of Prada loafers."
It's not until our grandfather is in the hospital dying of emphysema, or our sister has checked into a drug abuse clinic, or we suddenly need the things that friend we were so swift to dismiss was able to offer, or we lose our job and have to enroll in Welfare just to feed ourselves, do we finally wise up to our shortcomings.
Is it ignorance? Do we honestly believe that bad things really don't happen to (sort-of) good people? Is it comfort? Do we use these habits as blankets, to shield us from the cold din of reality? Is it faith? Do we believe that something above us will protect us from the consequences of our actions?
Or, is it pride? Do we not want to shame ourselves and allow our own worst critics, ourselves, to see how we've been wrong? After all, if we don't have these laws, these committees, these limitations in our lives, it's easier to forget about the "bad things"--the very reasons we have such restrictions.
And, of course, it's easier to prescribe Change than to actually swallow the pill. But, if we observe our vulnerabilities before they're taken advantage of, perhaps we'd have less disasters, less deaths, less unhappiness.
I was enjoying today's Tribune when I came across Eric Zorn's column today, entitled "Media failed on porch alert, past accidents." He included a quotation from NSC president Alan McMillan, as follows:
"It seems to be a natural tendency to wait for tragedy to provide the catalyst for change."
He, of course, was referring to the possibility of laws dictating porch capacities attached Chicago's six-flat apartment buildings, and went so far (which I found interesting) to include similar laws passed regarding the use of pepper spray indoors (the E2 disaster, February 2003) and the stringent indoor-pyrotechnic policies now in effect (the Rhode Island concert venue fire, also February 2003).
One could go so far as to say that until September 11, National Security was not a common term found in the media. But in its aftermath, amid the dust and death came decrees for tighter security in our nation. It was only after such a "tragedy" that we saw how vulnerable we were to outside forces, regardless of social stati or occupations.
We as humans, and especially Americans, have a natural propensity to approach everything with a naive, carefree attitude. "So what if I smoke?" "I'm just a social drinker." "Who cares about that friend?" "I really needed a new pair of Prada loafers."
It's not until our grandfather is in the hospital dying of emphysema, or our sister has checked into a drug abuse clinic, or we suddenly need the things that friend we were so swift to dismiss was able to offer, or we lose our job and have to enroll in Welfare just to feed ourselves, do we finally wise up to our shortcomings.
Is it ignorance? Do we honestly believe that bad things really don't happen to (sort-of) good people? Is it comfort? Do we use these habits as blankets, to shield us from the cold din of reality? Is it faith? Do we believe that something above us will protect us from the consequences of our actions?
Or, is it pride? Do we not want to shame ourselves and allow our own worst critics, ourselves, to see how we've been wrong? After all, if we don't have these laws, these committees, these limitations in our lives, it's easier to forget about the "bad things"--the very reasons we have such restrictions.
And, of course, it's easier to prescribe Change than to actually swallow the pill. But, if we observe our vulnerabilities before they're taken advantage of, perhaps we'd have less disasters, less deaths, less unhappiness.
Little Bad Big Good
Normally, I would take this moment to write about is currently irking me, but I'll try to avoid it this time, in observance of a no-Blogging treaty I struck up with someone some time ago. All I'll say is the following: It is true that some friends cannot be roommates, and some friends cannot be...well, friends. I handled situations of months past to the best of my ability, given resources and the situation. The advice that I distributed of late was requested in an E-mail that was clearly not searching for a "yes or no" answer, but rather, a stream of outside thoughts on the matter. I advised when advice was requested (which, in this case, came both directly and implied). To conclude, one shouldn't ask his enemy for advice, especially when the request arrives on a breeze of baptismal amnesty (clearly I mistook this change in weather patterns). That's what friends are for.
I've decided...I feel like I start practically every entry with those words. How many times do I honestly follow through on these decisions? Well, anyways. I've decided to find a new job--something more challenging, something I can respect myself for doing after I clock out, something that might actually be useful and contribute to my occupational future.
This decision comes from two things: one, the fact that I loathe Gap. When I punch my social security number into that time-clock day in and day out, I can feel my dignity osmotically leave my fingertips. I say such foolish and brainless things; I do such tedious and rudimentary things; I think such horrible and sinister things. I can no longer continue like this. I have worked for this company for almost two years. While I have traveled in one direction, Gap has traveled in yet another.
The second motivator(s) involved in this quest for occupational harmony are these fine people. These twelve (now thirteen) men and women were "all on the cusp of something," and after reviewing their accomplishments and future plans, I decided it was time for me to begin sowing the seeds of my future.
I'm not sure where I'll begin. I know I'll have to sacrifice many of my future plans--auditioning for Loyola's fall musical, slacking off in school, dedicating countless hours to interior decorating--to sketch a rough outline of my days, months, and years ahead.
Well, I'm off to start that now, by eating a sandwich and reading some Newsweek.
Normally, I would take this moment to write about is currently irking me, but I'll try to avoid it this time, in observance of a no-Blogging treaty I struck up with someone some time ago. All I'll say is the following: It is true that some friends cannot be roommates, and some friends cannot be...well, friends. I handled situations of months past to the best of my ability, given resources and the situation. The advice that I distributed of late was requested in an E-mail that was clearly not searching for a "yes or no" answer, but rather, a stream of outside thoughts on the matter. I advised when advice was requested (which, in this case, came both directly and implied). To conclude, one shouldn't ask his enemy for advice, especially when the request arrives on a breeze of baptismal amnesty (clearly I mistook this change in weather patterns). That's what friends are for.
I've decided...I feel like I start practically every entry with those words. How many times do I honestly follow through on these decisions? Well, anyways. I've decided to find a new job--something more challenging, something I can respect myself for doing after I clock out, something that might actually be useful and contribute to my occupational future.
This decision comes from two things: one, the fact that I loathe Gap. When I punch my social security number into that time-clock day in and day out, I can feel my dignity osmotically leave my fingertips. I say such foolish and brainless things; I do such tedious and rudimentary things; I think such horrible and sinister things. I can no longer continue like this. I have worked for this company for almost two years. While I have traveled in one direction, Gap has traveled in yet another.
The second motivator(s) involved in this quest for occupational harmony are these fine people. These twelve (now thirteen) men and women were "all on the cusp of something," and after reviewing their accomplishments and future plans, I decided it was time for me to begin sowing the seeds of my future.
I'm not sure where I'll begin. I know I'll have to sacrifice many of my future plans--auditioning for Loyola's fall musical, slacking off in school, dedicating countless hours to interior decorating--to sketch a rough outline of my days, months, and years ahead.
Well, I'm off to start that now, by eating a sandwich and reading some Newsweek.
Sunday, June 29, 2003
AAAAAHH!!' (and translation)
I am having the best time of my life. there are at eatst 100 pdeople on my patio rightn now. I hve having the best time of my life! that's the best paryy i've ever been to. there have been perfrormances by drag queens, Irish jiggers na d poera singers. I wish i had friend sto come to thidbs party with me and Theo and our wonderful neighbors and friends!!!!! aagh!!! parade timoeoewwwwrrow.
(Last night, our neighbor threw a massive party...no, it was more than that--an event in the large communal patio area of our building. Last year, he hosted 150 guests, and this year there were quite a few as well, though I never counted. Clearly, Dan (our neighbor) spent a lot of money on decorations (parachute-y lights marking the entrance, red carpet, chandelier hanging over the soiree, a stage area) and alcohol. I, myself ingested much more than I should have (proven by my entry) and threw up last night before going to sleep. Now that's twice that I've vomited from alcohol. No more, no more. Anyways, the performances were great--an opera singer sang a few songs, a few drag queens performed (Margot, Dan's friend, is so fun; theo and I love her), and one of our Irish neighbours from the house next door performed--exceptionally--a bit from Riverdance. We met a lot of great people, who we spent time with today. And, I think we know almost all of our neighbors now, except for two units.)
I am having the best time of my life. there are at eatst 100 pdeople on my patio rightn now. I hve having the best time of my life! that's the best paryy i've ever been to. there have been perfrormances by drag queens, Irish jiggers na d poera singers. I wish i had friend sto come to thidbs party with me and Theo and our wonderful neighbors and friends!!!!! aagh!!! parade timoeoewwwwrrow.
(Last night, our neighbor threw a massive party...no, it was more than that--an event in the large communal patio area of our building. Last year, he hosted 150 guests, and this year there were quite a few as well, though I never counted. Clearly, Dan (our neighbor) spent a lot of money on decorations (parachute-y lights marking the entrance, red carpet, chandelier hanging over the soiree, a stage area) and alcohol. I, myself ingested much more than I should have (proven by my entry) and threw up last night before going to sleep. Now that's twice that I've vomited from alcohol. No more, no more. Anyways, the performances were great--an opera singer sang a few songs, a few drag queens performed (Margot, Dan's friend, is so fun; theo and I love her), and one of our Irish neighbours from the house next door performed--exceptionally--a bit from Riverdance. We met a lot of great people, who we spent time with today. And, I think we know almost all of our neighbors now, except for two units.)
Saturday, June 21, 2003
Blog Sighting
I found yet another friend's "secret" journal today. Some very interesting (and mildly insulting) things were said about me.
I think Theo and I are going to Wicker Park this afternoon, after stopping at Home Depot for some more paint and Circuit City to return some unneeded electronics.
I found yet another friend's "secret" journal today. Some very interesting (and mildly insulting) things were said about me.
I think Theo and I are going to Wicker Park this afternoon, after stopping at Home Depot for some more paint and Circuit City to return some unneeded electronics.
“I have a large rod the size of China lodged in my anus.”
I had the great fortune of running across this "article" this morning, somehow. It reminded me of that whole prom "catastrophe" last year, that just embarassed those Jacobs students who weren't attention-starved like the protagonists of the story. (Anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about would more than likely not benefit from reading this.)
I had the great fortune of running across this "article" this morning, somehow. It reminded me of that whole prom "catastrophe" last year, that just embarassed those Jacobs students who weren't attention-starved like the protagonists of the story. (Anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about would more than likely not benefit from reading this.)
Friday, June 20, 2003
Red Pen in Action
Living room painted--check.
Credit card almost completely paid off--check.
Made up for lost sleep, after being awake for over 35 hours straight--check.
Inexpensive DVD player purchased with 10% off coupon from Target--check.
Great conversation with Erin for 45 minutes--check.
Watched East is East on new DVD player, will recommend it to everyone--check.
Radiohead's Hail to the Thief downloaded in full--check.
Many more things to be checked off throughout day, such as cleaning the kitchen hardcore, depositing my check, and working for 82,000 hours.
Who do I know besides Erin that works at Marshall Field's and was at my graduation party?
Living room painted--check.
Credit card almost completely paid off--check.
Made up for lost sleep, after being awake for over 35 hours straight--check.
Inexpensive DVD player purchased with 10% off coupon from Target--check.
Great conversation with Erin for 45 minutes--check.
Watched East is East on new DVD player, will recommend it to everyone--check.
Radiohead's Hail to the Thief downloaded in full--check.
Many more things to be checked off throughout day, such as cleaning the kitchen hardcore, depositing my check, and working for 82,000 hours.
Who do I know besides Erin that works at Marshall Field's and was at my graduation party?
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
The Gap Inc. Players in: "Terror in the Abandoned Stock Room"
Pardon my lack of verbosity, but I just got home from work about five minutes ago. We had an overnight, so that we could "roll out" the new Gap Body gear. (They like calling it "flow," but I always used that word in reference to menses, so it bothers me.) What? Go to bed, silly fuck? No, no. I don't want to disrupt my circadian rhythm. I'll just pass out tonight around 7 and perhaps move my bedtime schedule up a few hours. That would be good, so that I can wake up before noon on a regular basis.
My weekend was fun-filled.
Well, I'm going to go paint--in addition to getting my hair cut today (I liked it better and better everytime the smelly mass of sweat and fatigue known as myself passed by a bank of mirrors last night/this morning), I dropped $150 at Home Depot for paint and other fun things. So, I'm going to go play with those now.
Pardon my lack of verbosity, but I just got home from work about five minutes ago. We had an overnight, so that we could "roll out" the new Gap Body gear. (They like calling it "flow," but I always used that word in reference to menses, so it bothers me.) What? Go to bed, silly fuck? No, no. I don't want to disrupt my circadian rhythm. I'll just pass out tonight around 7 and perhaps move my bedtime schedule up a few hours. That would be good, so that I can wake up before noon on a regular basis.
My weekend was fun-filled.
Well, I'm going to go paint--in addition to getting my hair cut today (I liked it better and better everytime the smelly mass of sweat and fatigue known as myself passed by a bank of mirrors last night/this morning), I dropped $150 at Home Depot for paint and other fun things. So, I'm going to go play with those now.
Thursday, June 12, 2003
Wednesday, June 11, 2003
Addiction #7
I don't really have much to post, since I've spent most of my time from Saturday evening on cooped up in this office. I've become chemically dependent upon Roller Coaster Tycoon 2. This sort of thing used to happen to me in junior high and perhaps freshman year. I would randomly start playing Sim City 2000 one day, and not be able to do anything but that for about 2-3 weeks. No homework, no social time, no nothing. Eventually, it'd pass, but that usually involved me doing the 'ol "cold turkey" method.
The only exciting things to write about include my trip to Printer's Row Book Fair with Theo (very fun, lots of people, lots of wonderful books; we bought some Vanity Fair cover prints from the 1920s for our Hall of Art), watching all of the Bentleys being loaded into the new dealership on Rush after class on Monday, starting yet ANOTHER book (I'm already reading two...no, three other books), and mending my relationship with Theo.
I don't really have much to post, since I've spent most of my time from Saturday evening on cooped up in this office. I've become chemically dependent upon Roller Coaster Tycoon 2. This sort of thing used to happen to me in junior high and perhaps freshman year. I would randomly start playing Sim City 2000 one day, and not be able to do anything but that for about 2-3 weeks. No homework, no social time, no nothing. Eventually, it'd pass, but that usually involved me doing the 'ol "cold turkey" method.
The only exciting things to write about include my trip to Printer's Row Book Fair with Theo (very fun, lots of people, lots of wonderful books; we bought some Vanity Fair cover prints from the 1920s for our Hall of Art), watching all of the Bentleys being loaded into the new dealership on Rush after class on Monday, starting yet ANOTHER book (I'm already reading two...no, three other books), and mending my relationship with Theo.
Saturday, June 07, 2003
Summer Living
This summer will undoubtedly not be as great as last--a year ago today, I was taking my first steps in Europe. Today, I took my ritualistic steps to work, after watching HGTV all day. I will have to take pleasure in sprucing up my apartment and partaking in many of Chicago's neighborhood fests.
Work...where to begin. I have worked at the Broadway/Belmont Gap for more than three weeks, and still have not received a check because I haven't been entered into their computers. I'm almost offended by that--they care so little about their employees that they fail to pay them for their hard work or recognize them as true employees. One thing is certain--I must stay in school, and probably go to grad school and possibly get a doctorate, so that I'm not spending my life there.
Oh, I made the Dean's List. As can be expected, my parents are more excited about that than am I.
This summer will undoubtedly not be as great as last--a year ago today, I was taking my first steps in Europe. Today, I took my ritualistic steps to work, after watching HGTV all day. I will have to take pleasure in sprucing up my apartment and partaking in many of Chicago's neighborhood fests.
Work...where to begin. I have worked at the Broadway/Belmont Gap for more than three weeks, and still have not received a check because I haven't been entered into their computers. I'm almost offended by that--they care so little about their employees that they fail to pay them for their hard work or recognize them as true employees. One thing is certain--I must stay in school, and probably go to grad school and possibly get a doctorate, so that I'm not spending my life there.
Oh, I made the Dean's List. As can be expected, my parents are more excited about that than am I.
Friday, June 06, 2003
.
To the dismay of one instigator, Theo and I are, in fact, not broken up. We rehashed things last night, after lots of staring, and decided that the changes we wanted to implement in our relationship when Part II began hadn't been made, but that we (read: I) would try harder to make those changes happen. I think that when you move in woth someone, adjustments need to be made--sometimes painfully, sometimes not as pleasantly as one would like. I suppose I focused more on those changes than the changes that we were making to our love life. So, we're going to shine up the tracks and get the train moving again. I do love him, and want our romantic relationship and our relationship as roommates to be as wonderful as possible. Kyle and Sarah...I mean, Brian and Theo, are back on track, and the only measurements that meed to be made now are in regards to our walls (for paint), floors (for furniture), and love (which no ruler can ascertain).
To the dismay of one instigator, Theo and I are, in fact, not broken up. We rehashed things last night, after lots of staring, and decided that the changes we wanted to implement in our relationship when Part II began hadn't been made, but that we (read: I) would try harder to make those changes happen. I think that when you move in woth someone, adjustments need to be made--sometimes painfully, sometimes not as pleasantly as one would like. I suppose I focused more on those changes than the changes that we were making to our love life. So, we're going to shine up the tracks and get the train moving again. I do love him, and want our romantic relationship and our relationship as roommates to be as wonderful as possible. Kyle and Sarah...I mean, Brian and Theo, are back on track, and the only measurements that meed to be made now are in regards to our walls (for paint), floors (for furniture), and love (which no ruler can ascertain).
?
I'm sort of confused. And I imagine you will be too after reading this. Theo and I have broken up, I think. We had a fight this afternoon, after I shooed him away from hopping on my computer while I tried, successfully, to fix our network. He said he wanted to break up. I thought it was just one of those "heat of the moment" things, but now I'm fairly certain we're simply roommates. I'm sorry this isn't more emotional or heartfelt or somber, but I'm not really certain...no, I suppose I'm certain...now he's staring at me and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say...I don't know what is going on.
Staring doesn't tell me much of anything.
I'm sort of confused. And I imagine you will be too after reading this. Theo and I have broken up, I think. We had a fight this afternoon, after I shooed him away from hopping on my computer while I tried, successfully, to fix our network. He said he wanted to break up. I thought it was just one of those "heat of the moment" things, but now I'm fairly certain we're simply roommates. I'm sorry this isn't more emotional or heartfelt or somber, but I'm not really certain...no, I suppose I'm certain...now he's staring at me and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say...I don't know what is going on.
Staring doesn't tell me much of anything.
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
She insisted.
I don't think I have much to write about. Everything I do has become so commonplace, so routine--even though to someone living in a third-world country, or Hampshire, would never tire of my schedule. I'm just taking everything for granted and being a spoiled brat.
I forgot how draining work is. Granted, I've never had to do an overnight or work at 7AM at my previous places of employment, but even if I didn't work odd hours, I'd still be tired contatantly. Yes, scholastics tire one too, but that's such a different form of fatigue. When school tires me, I feel full. But when work tires me, I feel empty. Since I spend all of my Happiness Dollars while on the clock, I have no more to spend on myself or Theo (much to his dismay).
Why am I even writing right now? I have nothing to say. I can no longer write. I've had a glass of wine. This is for Cyndi and Cyndi alone--so I don't get anymore angry IMs. Everyone else--forget you read anything! I will return with better material! I will not be Jerry Seinfeld!
I don't think I have much to write about. Everything I do has become so commonplace, so routine--even though to someone living in a third-world country, or Hampshire, would never tire of my schedule. I'm just taking everything for granted and being a spoiled brat.
I forgot how draining work is. Granted, I've never had to do an overnight or work at 7AM at my previous places of employment, but even if I didn't work odd hours, I'd still be tired contatantly. Yes, scholastics tire one too, but that's such a different form of fatigue. When school tires me, I feel full. But when work tires me, I feel empty. Since I spend all of my Happiness Dollars while on the clock, I have no more to spend on myself or Theo (much to his dismay).
Why am I even writing right now? I have nothing to say. I can no longer write. I've had a glass of wine. This is for Cyndi and Cyndi alone--so I don't get anymore angry IMs. Everyone else--forget you read anything! I will return with better material! I will not be Jerry Seinfeld!
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Hair There Everywhere
I'm not cutting my hair short. I was really planning on doing it, turning my curly mass into something Ashton Kutcher-esque. But the fane--the fans love it. I have at least one person a day comment on how beautiful/lovely/awesome my hair is. Today, three people--three perfect (even moreso when complimenting me) strangers--casually said how much they loved my hair. The same Gap customer has come in three times now, since I began working two weeks ago, and said how much she enjoyed it. And really, I sometimes like my hair too. I always considered it my best and only good feature. So, popular concensus has struck the gavel--my hair is guilty of being fun and appealing.
Sorry, I needed to pick myself up. It's been a long day--worked from 7AM-3. It's really awkward seeing customers on the street, when I'm not wearing my cemented (more like demented) grin and blue tag. What do I do? I usually smile, casually, as if we'd met at a party sometime or something. Ha--Gap a party. I'm not hating working there as much as I used to hate it, schlepping the wares of a company I didn't really believe in. The all-gay cast I'm greeted with every day is fun, since they're much more flamboyant/amusing than myself. A manager asked me today if I'd give him permission to clone me. Psychologically, I only enjoy doing something if others think I'm doing a good job at it. So, I'm enjoying it so far.
Last night, I went to see L'Auberge Espagnole (Fr., "Spanish pudding") at Piper's Alley. Aside from the $8.75 ticket cost (can you BELIEVE IT?!?), I really enjoyed it. The film, "written" by the protagonist, chronicled his year of studying abroad in Barcelona and living in a beautiful apartment with 7 other students, all hailing from different European countries. Ok, so it was Real World Catalana, as one reviewer penned. But it was fun, the cinematography was inventive even compared to American cinema which, I'm afriad surpasses that of the French almost always (A French Matrix would not have been as popular; you go to French cinema for the plot), and I'm determined to study abroad at some point now. One of London's many universities has an outstanding journalism school. Theo, of course, became despondent when I told him about the idea.
Another night of hanging around the apartment and watching movies! Blah.
I'm not cutting my hair short. I was really planning on doing it, turning my curly mass into something Ashton Kutcher-esque. But the fane--the fans love it. I have at least one person a day comment on how beautiful/lovely/awesome my hair is. Today, three people--three perfect (even moreso when complimenting me) strangers--casually said how much they loved my hair. The same Gap customer has come in three times now, since I began working two weeks ago, and said how much she enjoyed it. And really, I sometimes like my hair too. I always considered it my best and only good feature. So, popular concensus has struck the gavel--my hair is guilty of being fun and appealing.
Sorry, I needed to pick myself up. It's been a long day--worked from 7AM-3. It's really awkward seeing customers on the street, when I'm not wearing my cemented (more like demented) grin and blue tag. What do I do? I usually smile, casually, as if we'd met at a party sometime or something. Ha--Gap a party. I'm not hating working there as much as I used to hate it, schlepping the wares of a company I didn't really believe in. The all-gay cast I'm greeted with every day is fun, since they're much more flamboyant/amusing than myself. A manager asked me today if I'd give him permission to clone me. Psychologically, I only enjoy doing something if others think I'm doing a good job at it. So, I'm enjoying it so far.
Last night, I went to see L'Auberge Espagnole (Fr., "Spanish pudding") at Piper's Alley. Aside from the $8.75 ticket cost (can you BELIEVE IT?!?), I really enjoyed it. The film, "written" by the protagonist, chronicled his year of studying abroad in Barcelona and living in a beautiful apartment with 7 other students, all hailing from different European countries. Ok, so it was Real World Catalana, as one reviewer penned. But it was fun, the cinematography was inventive even compared to American cinema which, I'm afriad surpasses that of the French almost always (A French Matrix would not have been as popular; you go to French cinema for the plot), and I'm determined to study abroad at some point now. One of London's many universities has an outstanding journalism school. Theo, of course, became despondent when I told him about the idea.
Another night of hanging around the apartment and watching movies! Blah.
Sunday, May 25, 2003
Singing and Assassinating
I hadn't seen my parents in weeks, I think. So, I was relieved when they drove down to Chicago to spend the day with me. We traipsed around the Loop, bought tickets to see "The Lion King" in early June (eh...), ate at the Italian Village (eh...), and saw "Assassins" at the Merle Reskin theatre, as performed by DePaul's highly-touted Theatre School. I was thoroughly unimpressed with their rendition of the little-known Sondheim show; the cast lacked talent and conviction, which just made the two-hour-long production drag (no intermission? yeesh.). To quote my mother: "I didn't not like it...I hated it." Personally, I love the unusual musical--Bob and I saw it together several years ago--and I'm hoping Loyola gives this show the justice it deserves when they perform it this fall.
After playing around on Metromix Friday night, in search of shows to see with my family, and standing in line to buy "Lion King" tickets Saturday afternoon, I became quite upset...no, angry, about the fact that I didn't see "tick, tick...BOOM!" this week. Bob said I'd have to give him head for him to take me to see it, and my parents weren't very excited about paying $30 a piece to see a musical they had no knowledge of. I'm just upset on several levels about this. Things/people/relationships change, I suppose.
Theo should be 1/4 moved in by the end of the day. That is good. I haven't seen nor spoken to many of my friends lately. That is bad.
I hadn't seen my parents in weeks, I think. So, I was relieved when they drove down to Chicago to spend the day with me. We traipsed around the Loop, bought tickets to see "The Lion King" in early June (eh...), ate at the Italian Village (eh...), and saw "Assassins" at the Merle Reskin theatre, as performed by DePaul's highly-touted Theatre School. I was thoroughly unimpressed with their rendition of the little-known Sondheim show; the cast lacked talent and conviction, which just made the two-hour-long production drag (no intermission? yeesh.). To quote my mother: "I didn't not like it...I hated it." Personally, I love the unusual musical--Bob and I saw it together several years ago--and I'm hoping Loyola gives this show the justice it deserves when they perform it this fall.
After playing around on Metromix Friday night, in search of shows to see with my family, and standing in line to buy "Lion King" tickets Saturday afternoon, I became quite upset...no, angry, about the fact that I didn't see "tick, tick...BOOM!" this week. Bob said I'd have to give him head for him to take me to see it, and my parents weren't very excited about paying $30 a piece to see a musical they had no knowledge of. I'm just upset on several levels about this. Things/people/relationships change, I suppose.
Theo should be 1/4 moved in by the end of the day. That is good. I haven't seen nor spoken to many of my friends lately. That is bad.