good excuse to say "wagenheimer"
1. Michael and Bright Eyes tomorrow
2. Attend an event by a community not of my own (for class). Drag show was out; they don't start until Thursday. So the Spanish tapas place it is
3. I want to be in a burlesque like Christina Aguilera. Yeah
4. Haircut tomorrow. Anything but Rosie O'Donnell's new Boy George "punk-skater" look
5. Career fair Thursday. Damn thing interferes with my plan to wear my new Diesel Sweeties skull t-shirt for Halloween
6. Career fair Thursday. Should I be professional and boring or myself and insane?
7. Continuation of love-hate relationship with the self-important but witty Jane magazine. Jane the woman bugs the hell out of me
8. Had dream about J-school guy named Tim who looks like that Verizon "Can you hear me now?" guy. He and I were helping stop this psycho from stabbing us all with an XActo knife
9. Going goth for Halloween. This entails a lot of black eye makeup and my witchy, ruffly skirt from Express. I was an indie girl last year; that was a lot easier to pull off
10. Christie swears she has mono
11. You missed the armpit meeting. Don't worry, so did I. I think Melissa made it, though
12. I think I'm making a list because I'm neurotic
13. I can't seem to stop
14. I could have sworn David's last post said Chris and Michael needed to shower with him
16. Kind of funny though
17. The Get Up Kids' Something to Write Home About has recently taken on added meaning in my life, especially "My Apology"
18. I've been getting dizzy a whole lot recently. I'm taking advantage of my weakened physical and mental state by posting
19. Apparently a lot of Mizzou people have blogs. I short circuit if I read more than 24 a day. So I read 24 a day, some more faithfully than others.
20. Good number as any to stop on
10-29-2002 4:51 PM - comments (1)
10-28-2002 3:54 PM - comments (0)
I hate very few things, but I can safely say that the current TGI Fridays ad campaign is one of them. Besides being incredibly stupid and groan-inducing, the oh-so-hapless chef looks a lot like Matthew Morrison, a sort of crazy guy I went to high school with.
To explain Matt, a few anecdotes are necessary. If I've told a couple of them before, forgive me.
1. There was a guy at my school named Abed. It was the cool high-school thing to do to say, "What did you sleep on last night?" You would of course respond "a bed," and everyone would laugh at you because, ha! You said you slept on Abed last night. Well, one of us decided to ask Matt that question and he replied (with crazy eyes), "All right, all right. A bathtub." And he meant it.
2. He must have liked bathtubs a lot, because according to a confidential source, on a Junior Statesmen of America trip, he read most of War and Peace in one overnight.
3. Mr. Nelson's economics class was always a prime time to see Matt in action. He used to raise his hand and go into lengthy dissertations about how the media and Hollywood stereotype businessmen as evil mustache-twirlers who are always out to make money at the expense of others. It didn't have much relevance to anything we were talking about, but it was a nice break from marginal costs and pop quizzes.
4. Matt declared there should be an island that all gays would have to relocate to so AIDS would be contained.
5. He asked me to prom, but I think he also asked about half of my graduating class. I was pretty nice about rejecting his offer.
6. I'm fervently searching for his website, but I'm having no luck. But it's out there somewhere and it's scary.
10-28-2002 3:42 PM - comments (0)
being in high school all over again
My zit went from skeleton zit to ghost of zit and is back to skeleton zit. I have tried willing it away. I have tried scribbing it with Noxzema and Dove soaps. I have examined it in the mirror and cursed it repeatedly. Last night I tried my last strategy: rubbing some contraband Retin-A I bought in a shady Mexican pharmacy (it's twice as strong as the American version. I don't think there are any silly FDA-type rules in Mexico) all over the damn thing.
It was still here this morning. Excuse me while I yell, cry and pull my hair for a few minutes.
10-28-2002 7:43 AM - comments (0)
I'm in Warrensburg, MO for the weekend. Please leave me comments--any topic you want. It would make me very happy to come home to that.
10-25-2002 4:43 PM - comments (0)
back to innocence
I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore. The lip ring is gone.
On another note, yesterday at the talent show for the elementary school at which Melissa works, two girls said math was their favorite subject. I found myself wanting to shake them and yell, "Never, ever stop liking math just because you're a girl. You don't have to have a penis to enjoy working with numbers, no matter what society or the media say!" Instead, I just told them to keep up the good work, but I said it with a certain emphasis that I hoped they'd remember a few years later. Now that I have a semester of child psych under my belt, I know how certain phrases or moments stick with kids forever, and I want to impose my influence wherever I can.
They were good le little kids they were. One told me that she was starting a club called Stunt Mania, and that another girl was close to being invited to join but had one stunt left to complete. I kept laughing. I wonder if that's the kind of kid I was. I just don't remember ever being that young.
10-24-2002 9:17 PM - comments (0)
getting in on the action
Hard to believe, but I'm not involved in this catfight.
Oh, no. I feel left out. Quick, someone become horribly offended by something I said, and write about it at length on your website. I can guarantee lots of obscene name-calling, hair-pulling and clawing.
10-24-2002 2:37 PM - comments (0)
This girl has gone too far. I'm sure all her friends think she's clever and ironic and all (and one of them even specifically points it out in her comments), and I know she thinks she's just God's gift to writing, but this is really fucking disgusting. Rape is not something to ever joke about.
She's disabled her "anonymous" commenting system, which means non-Live Journal people can't say anything about it. Gee, I wonder why she did such a thing when she can get all of her kiss-ass friends to justify her insensitivity. I feel incredibly angry right now, so I'm going to stop writing.
10-23-2002 9:26 AM - comments (0)
*I'm pleased as punch that my cat is smart enough to play the Rubber Band Game. But the Game has really become very unfun for me and my cohabitants as of late; Elliott now keeps his "prize" in his food dish or water bowl, so when he brings it to us, we get to touch a smelly rubber band, a wet rubber band, or a smelly, wet rubber band. Add that to the fact that he vomits on his own vomit (it's a long story, and one you probably don't want to read), and it's insanity at 3509 Delmar.
*You know those people that are always polled in The Onion's weekly quizzes (well, their names change, but it's the same pictures)? Have you ever wondered who they are and if they know their likeness is being used?
*We're going to Warrensburg, Melissa's hometown, for the weekend. It's been described as a typical Normal Rockwell-esque kind of place: cute houses, football games, Homecoming parades, grandparents named Roy and Pearl, two main streets and apparently everyone listens to Sublime and Phish. (Oddly enough, that last thing is normally the litmus test of "Is my town very small?") That's all sweet and all, but there had better be some apple pie waiting for me.
10-23-2002 9:10 AM - comments (0)
How could I have forgotten to mention the Smashing Pumpkins in that last entry? They've been my favorite band since I was 12!
10-22-2002 2:10 PM - comments (0)
it has to start sometime
Everyone's always complaining that Avril and Britney are ruining contemporary music. We all reminisce to the good old days of the early '90s, when Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Soundgarden, nine inch nails, et al. dominated the charts and defined alternative rock. (Remember when alt rock stations were listenable?) Even now, bands like Default, Disturbed, System of a Down, Hoobastank and other good-for-nothing bands are being classified as the new "rock."
We have to take back the airwaves, and the best way I figure we can do that is to obsessively request the new Foo Fighters song "All My Life." It's possibly the best modern rock song I've heard in a long time. It reeks of Nirvana and the Violent Femmes, which I see absolutely nothing wrong with.
10-22-2002 9:34 AM - comments (0)
This makes me feel very odd inside. I can't explain it. There are all sorts of questions I have, and I doubt they'll ever be answered.
Sorry for introducing yet another CNN story to the world of weblogs, but this one wasn't as prominent as I thought it ought to be.
10-22-2002 8:38 AM - comments (0)
the black sheep
After seeing the White Stripes on SNL this weekend (by the way, John McCain and his Steely Dan-O'Lanterns were fantastic), I have concluded that even I could be in a band. Even though Meg White is much cuter than me, she doesn't seem to have a very challenging role. I found her drum playing akin to grade school banging on pots and pans, but with more rhythm and grace. She also sort of just sits there with a demure smile on her face, which I could probably master. I just need to grow my hair out and learn to be silently cute.
Oh, who am I kidding? That will never happen. I'd be all over the stage, more ferocious Karen O. than sweet Meg White. Those who know me know that silence is not one of my virtues.
10-21-2002 9:24 PM - comments (0)
Why is it that, at 21 years old, I still get nervous speaking in front of class? Is this ever going to end?
10-21-2002 12:50 PM - comments (1)
*Went to the mall with Michael, where he bought a really nice grey lightweight jacket for himself and lots of Jelly Belly for me
*Went to Target, where I finally broke down and bought my own copy of the Sims and a box of Count Chocula (Franken Berry looks intriguing until you realize it's strawberry flavored)
*Had dinner with said boy at Shakespeare's, where we decided to eat outside and then I decided I was too much of a wimp to stand the cold. There's a threshold of about two degrees where I am comfortable (71-73)
*Sadly saw the boy off to St. Louis
*Finished my media analysis for Cross-Cultural Journalism, even though I have no idea what I was doing. That's sort of how that class goes
*Went to Waffle House with Christie and Kaity, where I ate entirely too much
*Am now procrastinating terribly. I'm worried that if I start playing the Sims, I won't stop
10-20-2002 9:55 PM - comments (0)
shouldn't i have this figured out by now?
As I predicted, my schedule for next semester has gone a little crazy. I can no longer receive credit for my internship from last summer (and pull a lazy 10-hour semester as I had hoped) because I was supposed to have applied for the credit before the internship. Foolish me. Actually, foolish Amy Cline, my former J-school advisor who suddenly left her job, wreaking all sorts of havoc on us upper-class journalism kids.
A positive change was that the Advanced Magazine Writing professor recommended me for her graduate level class upon reviewing my application and writing samples. An honor for sure, but I'm afraid she doesn't know what she's getting into by having me in that class. I think it will be good for my discipline (of which I have little to none).
I'm growing increasingly agitated about my future. There's a newspaper career fair on October 30, and besides removing this thing from my lip and spending many stress-filled hours at Kinko's perfecting my portfolio, I have to think about what I want to tell the recruiters. Am I a copy editor or a reporter? The two are vastly different in terms of responsibilities and time commitment. I've also been warned that it's extremely difficult making the jump between the two once I've made my decision.
My editor at the Globe-News advised me to go into copy editing. "To be honest, we can have a newsroom without reporters. We can't have one without the copy desk," he said. He also pointed out that if I want to advance to a management position (and who wouldn't? Journalists are the best people to be made editors, but too often it's business/ad people who get promoted), I should definitely go into copy editing.
Obsessive as always...
COPY EDITOR PROS More money Less stressful More clear-cut duties--always know what is expected of you Always in demand Chance for advancement to management position
COPY EDITOR CONS
Lack of creative input
REPORTER/FEATURE WRITER PROS
Lots of creative input (hopefully)
Chance to gain fame, promotions for good work
REPORTER/FEATURE WRITER CONS
Competitive job market (job instability)
10-20-2002 10:39 AM - comments (0)
on jelly beans
Like many of you, I spend most of my free time fantasizing about Jelly Belly gourmet jelly beans. I imagine different combinations that will result in the proverbial party in my mouth, and I worry about two flavors not getting along at all.
Because Michael was kind enough to buy me Jelly Belly gourmet jelly beans when it was discovered that the Jefferson City Dunkin Donuts was closed because of an apparent name change (Donut King), I now have half a bag left to enjoy for brunch. Michael and I poured them out on my bed last night and did some scientific research, which involved a lot of pile-making and taste-testing. Here are the results (some include ties):
Best Jelly Belly Flavor
Raspberry - Champagne Punch - Chocolate Pudding - Tangerine
Worst Jelly Belly Flavor
Sizzling Cinammon - Cinammon - Licorice - Peppermint
First it Tasted Bad, Then a Little Good, Then Back to Bad Again Jelly Belly Flavor
Guilty Pleasure Jelly Belly Flavor
Prettiest Jelly Belly
Best Combination Jelly Belly Flavors
Peanut Butter and Jelly - Chocolate Pudding and Toasted Marshmallow
Worst Combination Jelly Belly Flavors
Buttered Popcorn and Bubble Gum
Hardest to Tell the Difference Between Colors Jelly Belly Flavors
Cinammon - Hawaiian Punch - Very Cherry
For Some Reason My Bag Always Has Too Many of These Jelly Belly Flavors
Coconut - Green Apple
Favorite Jelly Belly Flavor Because it Tastes So Much Like the Thing it's Supposed to Be
10-19-2002 9:52 AM - comments (0)
There is such beauty in graceful suffering, yet I fear we have forgotten this. We've been hypnotized by garish media circuses and self-help books. Those of us who cry the loudest do not necessarily suffer the most.
Don't look up; the sky is falling.
10-17-2002 9:57 PM - comments (0)
dude, you're getting a pink slip*
In response to the Chris Hill Festival's latest post regarding Steven the Dell Guy:
WE CAN ONLY HOPE AND PRAY THAT JARED IS NEXT. HOLY HELL. SOME DAYS I FEEL LIKE HOLDING HIM DOWN AND STUFFING DOUBLE CHEESEBURGERS DOWN HIS THROAT, THEREBY MAKING HIM REALLY, REALLY FAT. THEN WHO WOULD BE SO SMUG AND SELF-SATISFIED. YES, I REALIZE THAT LAST SENTENCE SHOULD HAVE HAD A QUESTION MARK. I AM TOO IRRITATED WITH JARED FOR QUESTION MARKS.
*Astute readers will recognize this clever little phrase from the AIM "All the news that no other credible source would dare print" pop-up news window. I shouldn't be laughing; I'm destined for a career that involves nothing but coming up with cute, trite little headlines. I wonder if AOL is hiring.
10-16-2002 6:39 PM - comments (0)
by the bi
Bisexuality is an intriguing concept. I have to admit, I think the idea of finding both genders equally attractive is strange. Not bad, just strange. I remember thinking when Ani DiFranco got married that she had finally decided on heterosexuality, as if being married automatically meant the death of one's sexuality. My thinking has matured quite a bit since then (or so I hope), but I still maintain that when pressed, a bisexual would concede a leaning, even if slight, toward one gender. I guess I can't see how it could be any other way.
The really interesting thing is how the gay community has dealt with the insurgence and growing acceptance of bisexuality. I attended a panel on gay issues in Mid-Missouri, and the speakers unanimously decried bisexuality as a lifestyle. One even went so far as to say, "They'll figure out what they want eventually, and when they do, we'll still be here." A joke was told--"I'm bisexual. Buy me something and I'll be sexual"--that I found both funny and disturbing. It seems that bisexuals have a hard enough time being fully accepted by mainstream society; being shunned by the gay "purist" community can't be easy.
I'm admittedly unknowledgeable on matters of bisexuality, so if you have any thoughts or opinions on the subject, please leave a comment.
10-16-2002 3:22 PM - comments (0)
jim croce's rolling in his grave
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is butter my hand up because I'd probably get it stuck in the bottle with the time
I wonder if I should change "butter" to "grease." The image of a stick of butter in the bottle is irresistible, I'm afraid.
Christie: I wonder what kind of bottle would hold time.
Christie: I can see a green Coke bottle.
Rachel: I think it would be one of those bottles that has those ships squeezed into them. But then there's the concern that the time wouldn't fit with the ship.
Christie: You could fit anything in there. But what if you wanted to get the time out?
Rachel: Too late. Sorry. It's gone.
10-16-2002 9:07 AM - comments (0)
Oops. My site went crazy for the better part of last night.
10-15-2002 9:01 PM - comments (0)
10-15-2002 8:44 PM - comments (0)
rules of making a good movie?
As Chase mentioned, Rules of Attraction sucked. He of course said it much more elegantly that I could, but take my word for it all the same.
Let me explain. I haven't read the book the film is based on, but it's easy to see that the director, Roger Avary, was tempted to put his American Psycho touch all over it. Bland, even despicable, characters emerge as the antiheroes we're supposed to be cheering for (think Ghost World's Enid but much, much worse). Rules of Attraction never gives its viewers a home, and as my editorial writing professor aptly says, making your audience feel comfortable is of utmost importance. But uncomfortable, even horrifying, events ensue, while the vapid characters act pretentiously blase.
The thing is, this could have been a fantastic film. Not all uncomfortable movies are bad, and I would even go so far as to say I think they're sometimes good for cinema as a whole. They force us to question our own conventions and morality, even if we come to the conclusion that we were right all along. This movie attempts to prod at our mores and thought processes, but offers no reward for undergoing such painful discomfort. Additionally, the plot is horribly disjointed and starts things it has no intention of finishing.
The upside? I'll never be able to watch Dawson's Creek the same way again. Say what you will about James Van der Beek, but he's been sorely underused in the past. His ability to completely inhabit the role of vapid, on-the-brink Sean Bateman was really quite spooky; I hope Rules of Attraction marks the beginning of an illustrious career for him.
So yeah, don't see it unless you like being uncomfortable and frustrated. Or if you think Shannyn Sossamon is hot.
10-15-2002 1:56 PM - comments (1)
pencil it in
I had a crazy, eventful weekend. The only thing that would be better than spending time with Michael would be getting paid to spend time with Michael. But I think that might make me some sort of adult escort, and I really don't want that on my record.
My schedule is all screwed up. I don't see why they have us register in mid-October anyhow. Winter semester doesn't start until the end of January, and here I am making definite, binding plans. Practically every class I'm taking requires a consent card, and I was only able to pick up one yesterday (I got the first day of registration, finally!). I think one is ready for me today, another is pending--I had to apply to get into the class, and it's my capstone--and I have no idea how to get the last one. It's for the Internship class, which is not a class I have to attend; it's just two credit hours for my Dow Jones internship last summer. So without further ado--because I'm sure you all care about my final semester in college--here is my tentative schedule:
Journalism 140: Basic Press Photography and Photo Editing Monday and Friday 2:00-3:15
Journalism 363: Magazine Editing
Tuesday and Thursday 9:30-10:45, Thursday 3:30-5:20, Friday 9:00-10:50
Journalism 361: Advanced Magazine Writing (capstone)
Tuesday and Thursday 11:00-12:15
Journalism 308: Law and the Courts
Journalism 313: Internship
(no meeting time)
I haven't had a 9:00/9:30 class since freshman year. I wonder how I'll cope. I actually could have gotten a later editing lab on Friday, but I figured the earlier one meant I could see Michael earlier on Fridays, and it would be good practice for me for when I have a real job. I also don't have class on Wednesday, which is quite marvelous.
I wonder if taking all journalism classes next semester will render me brain dead.
10-15-2002 8:33 AM - comments (0)
thicke and thin (i'm so sorry)
I like Thicke. You know, that singer that just so happens to be Alan Thicke's son. I really like that "When I Get You Alone" business. It makes me all dancey, kind of like Jamiroquai.
The problem? I saw him in a Sprite commercial today. He sounds...well, like a black person. Which is not a problem, but his dad is Alan Thicke and I don't think he grew up in the ghetto or in any sort of predominantly black community. It's kind of like how George W. Bush has that awful, "nuculur" Texas accent when his parents are Easterners. Sure, he grew up in Texas, but so did I, and I don't sound like a moron. Well, I don't have an accent, anyway. Let's leave it at that.
10-10-2002 5:00 PM - comments (0)
might is not right
On the way to my car after class, I noticed a squirrel burying a nut, as squirrels are wont to do. He scurried to a nearby tree and seemed to be intently watching the spot where he had buried it. Some force I could not understand compelled me to kneel down on the sidewalk by the place where he had buried his nut and make a show of digging it up. I watched the squirrel's face as I was doing it, and all I saw was shock and confusion. Maybe even a little sadness.
I picked up the nut and showed it to him, as if proclaiming my victory. "I am a human and can do things like this to creatures like you," I thought. But it was a hollow victory, as I generally like squirrels and mean them no harm. I buried the nut back up in shame. The squirrel looked at me for another second and ran away. I felt my heart break.
10-09-2002 2:44 PM - comments (0)
Thanks to everyone who had advice or interesting articles for me to read regarding my most current debacle in English 328. I'll let you know what happens, promise.
There's also an update on the situation: someone in class who saw me walk out e-mailed me about the situation. I won't use his name to protect his identity.
I owe you an apology for not backing you up in class today. That pamphlet/cartoon was ridiculously inflammatory, and I was seriously uncomfortable with the way everyone was made to read from in class. If I'd had about 30 more seconds to consider just what the hell was going on, I'd have followed you out the door. Or passed on reading from the thing. But, I didn't--I froze, and I'm sorry.
I'm also generally pissed because it's become clear that the class isn't being presented as advertised--a class primarily about literature, not politics. I don't expect every course to remain strictly on topic, and objectively, the books we're reading explore race and international politics as major themes. That in itself doesn't bother me. The discussion will wander sometimes.
However, what angers me is the general ethos of the class--namely, dissenting opinions aren't tolerated, with the quashing led by our instructor. I'm sure you have this sensation, too. Aren't profs supposed to encourage free discussion and exchange of ideas? And it's been going on longer than just today, although this was the most blatant manifestation of it. Remember three Thursdays or so ago, when we discussed the LA riots? And the statement was made that there are NO black owned businesses in majority black neighborhoods? Well, that's just crap, and I knew it from personal experience, having had customers in my last job for four years who were black and the owners of their own businesses. They were from places like East St. Louis and North St. Louis, black neighborhoods. Of course, when I tried to get a word in edgewise, I was fairly shouted down.
Anyhow, I'm straying from an apology into a rant.
The upshot of all this: someone needs to approach either Piper or Bill Dawson and complain. My left brain tells me the reasonable, mature, and adult thing to do is to go to Piper's office hours, and express the reservations I've outlined above. But then there's the tricky issue of grade reprisals. Plus, I get the sense that she might not agree that there's any problem at all.
So I've started the first draft of a letter to Dawson. Or maybe I'll just go talk to the man; he's always been very approachable. I won't mention that Piper angered a student enough to walk out of a class, not without your approval, anyhow; I wouldn't want to say anything that would identify you without your permission.
Let me know what you think.
So there are people (well, at least one person) who feel the same way. I worried about that. I wasn't brave enough to tell the professor why I was leaving; why would I have expected anyone else would be? We're all having to pit GPA concerns against every problem we have with the university.
10-09-2002 9:04 AM - comments (0)
"Safely" - Hot Rod Circuit
"Speakers Push Air" - Pretty Girls Make Graves
"Nothing Man" - Bruce Springsteen
"In the Absence of Sun" - Duncan Sheik
"Fire Alarm" - Sahara Hotnights
"Around the World" - Pixies
"Gotta Get Through This" - Daniel Beddingford
"Bad Light" - Built to Spill
"Pattycake" - Self
"Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" - Culture Club
10-08-2002 5:36 PM - comments (0)
keep the politics out of my classroom
It's a long post, but please read through if you have time.
Remember that professor I told you about, the crazy liberal who instructs my English 328: Postcolonial British Ethnic Literature class? Yeah, I'm stark raving mad at her right now. Completely offended and taken aback is more like it. The other day in class, she had us write mini essays regarding our views on violence and its justifications. She also asked that we tie our views into the current situation in the Middle East. We were told to sum up our ideas and present them to the class.
I must have misunderstood what she meant by the current Middle East situation, because I said I didn't believe I knew enough about each individual situation going on to have an educated opinion. I also said as a general rule, it would be nice if we could solve our problems in a non-violent way, but because I am not living with oppression every day as some Middle Easterners are, I could not judge whether violence was always morally wrong.
That was me. The majority of the class ranted and raved about American involvement in Iraq, some even saying we should "stop bombing them." In fact, the professor herself said our current "bombing campaign" was immoral. Without the pretense of politeness, I blurted out, "But we haven't attacked Iraq yet. Aren't we putting the horse before the cart?" It was terribly painful to be in a room of people who share my political beliefs, but whose method in delivering those ideas was completely repugnant.
But this is worse. My professor handed out pamphlets in class today that featured a comic that was supposed to explain the Persian Gulf War. Please do not think I am overreacting when I say it was complete and blatant propaganda. While there were some "facts" mentioned in the talk/thought bubbles, they were not attributed to any news source whatsoever. It was sensational. It was strictly anti-war and anti-American.
She told us at first it was for our "personal enjoyment," but then had us take turns reading aloud the cartoon panels. I sat slumped in my seat, terrified. I knew I would not be able to read anything from the pamphlet out loud, but I was worried I would face punishment by my professor (in terms of grades) if I didn't. I've been in her class long enough to know that when people answer questions to her liking, she congratulates them and when they don't, she mocks them. As I heard my peers dutifully read the propaganda aloud in the middle of a postcolonial British literature class, I collected my things and left the room.
I have no idea what to do. I'm outraged that a professional was forcing her ideas down our throats. I'm outraged that someone would use her authority so irresponsibly. I'm outraged that I have to decide now which is more important: listening to my outraged conscience and reporting her to the English department chair or keeping my mouth shut so I can keep up my grades. She's not responsible or rational enough to grade me objectively once she knows I took action against her.
I'm a journalism major, so I know just how important our First Amendment rights are. I know it's not only unconstitutional but unthinkable to deny someone the right to free speech. But I also know that I didn't sign up for a political science course on foreign policy this semester. I signed up for a literature course, and our involvement with Iraq has nothing to do with that. I am in shock right now. How can this happen in our schools? It would be just as bad if she had handed out religious/atheist propaganda, yet people would have been up in arms if that had happened. Why is antiwar propaganda any better? Because everyone in the class agreed with it?
10-08-2002 4:06 PM - comments (0)
I'm starstruck over a boy.
I had a long, drawn-out entry explaining why all of the reasons this is true, but it didn't seem right to post. This is all I need to say.
10-07-2002 10:22 PM - comments (0)
c'mon get happy
It's 64 degrees and sunny, and the leaves are just starting to change color. So sue me if I think the Wallflowers' Bringing Down the Horse is the perfect autumn soundtrack.
When I hear "One Headlight" and smell the fall air--a woodsy, leaves-on-fire kind of scent--I'm taken back to Homecoming in high school. I don't remember the minutiae of conversation or clothing, but I still remember the way I felt the Saturday morning after the game: alive. I had so much to look forward to, and though I realized it, I took it for granted the same way everyone else does at that tender age when action is more important than contemplation.
My parents and their friends all complain that one day they woke up and they weren't young anymore. I used to pity them, but I think it's even harder to be cognizant of one's youth and the fact that it's necessarily slipping away. There's no blissful ignorance; just the gnawing feeling that it all has to end soon.
I'm trying very hard to recognize my moments of happiness and appreciate them as much as I can. I simply say or think to myself, "In this moment I am happy." It's not some yuppie new-age spiritual mantra, and it's not a smile-though-you're-suffering thing.
I do it when I'm moved to, but for some reason, I'm moved a lot more on perfect autumn days.
10-07-2002 2:47 PM - comments (0)
be still, my black messenger bag
The guy from Streetside yesterday was nice to me. Nice to the point of flirting. Boys flirt, so I wasn't exactly surprised by this latest development, but this guy does not flirt with a girl like me. He's the lead singer in a local emo band (which actually has to be pretty good, as it opens for every major indie act that came through town), and I've seen him before, dozens of times at shows or at Streetside. Nary a hello, a flirtatious smile, a teasing about the album I was buying.
But yesterday was different. He followed me around the store like a lost puppy, helping me pick out three CDs:
1. Tears for Fears' greatest hits, which he only stopped teasing me about once he knew I had become obsessed with because of Donnie Darko, which I was also obsessed with
2. Bruce Springsteen's new album (I really like that song "Lonesome Day")
3. Sahara Hotnights, which he was very giddy about me picking up and made sure I agreed to see them with Mooney Suzuki this Sunday
Dude, the guy was so trying to get me to stay in there and talk to him after I bought the CDs. It was awesome. I didn't talk about stars, have baby bangs or an ironic ill-fitting '80s t-shirt. And the best thing is? I wasn't even attracted to him.
It is official: My taste in punk boys with black spiky hair or indie boys with moppy black hair has officially been replaced by boys with a cute smile and a good sense of humor, no music-based fashion sense required. I've grown up. O giorno felice!
10-05-2002 9:23 AM - comments (0)
pow! right in the kissing disease
I think I might have mono. I keep getting really dizzy to the point where I feel as if I'm about to pass out, and I've been unnaturally tired and lethargic. It seems like getting mono is a rite of passage for college students, so bring it on, kissing disease. Sleeping all day and consuming only chicken noodle soup and ginger ale? Sounds like a vacation.
10-04-2002 8:48 PM - comments (0)
duel at dawn
You know of my obsession with Aaron Burr and his duel with Alexander Hamilton. Just the other day I was thinking about how weird and cool it was that political leaders used to solve their differences as gentlemen (with swords, of course). Today's leaders lack that sort of pep and zeal of the leaders of yore.
Well, I was horribly wrong. Such pep and zeal does exist in modern times. When I say that the following is the funniest (real) news article I have ever read, I am not exaggerating. Long after Michael read it to me over the phone last night, I was giggling and happy. Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that Iraq has proposed that Saddam Hussein and George W. Bush duel to end their differences. It was the Iraqi vice-president's idea, and from the sound of things, he's not joking.
I for one would be overjoyed to see such a duel. It wouldhat I said to you
And it was so out of sync
With the way I wanted to
Make myself out to seem
I don't like this air
But that doesn't mean I'll stop breathing it
Who doesn't think they're at the center of the universe?
Don't look now
Just keep watching your TV
Hating what's to see
Waiting for someone to say something that's right
I heard what I said to you
Thought it was all understood
But I wasn't getting through
I'd go on if I could
listening to: "Center of the Universe" - Built to Spill
10-04-2002 9:17 AM - comments (0)
whole new set of differences
If you're squeamish about sex (or are disgusted by anything other than "normal" copulation), don't read last week's installment of Savage Love. That said, if you're relatively enlightened (or a guy), please do. I think it's funny how prude girls are compared to boys. Did I say funny? I meant sad. I wonder how much longer we have to go before women can admit to themselves and others that sex isn't disgusting or shameful. It doesn't seem quite fair that guys get to "admit" they like it when women are relegated to thinking that keeping the lights on during sex is "kinky."
I don't post often about sex, because I don't always think my website is the most appropriate forum from which to discuss it. After all, my boyfriend's mother, my boyfriend's roommate's mother and my aunt have all been known to read ouranophobe. I honestly don't want anyone to come away from my site embarassed or offended because of something silly I said. But that also sort of proves my point; I think we're far too shy and prudish when it comes to such topics. Though I have no intention of becoming an XXX-kind of weblog (imagine the hits I'd get then), I think it's entirely within moral and ethical boundaries to post something on the topic of sex every now and then, provided I do so in a mature fashion.
10-02-2002 9:00 PM - comments (0)
The lovebirds are downstairs "talking." I wish they'd stop "talking" on our couch and start "talking" upstairs once in a while. For one, it would be a lot less uncomfortable for them. For another, I really want to go downstairs to get a glass of cold milk and a cupcake, and I can't achieve such goals with them "talking" all over the damn couch.
Actually, it sounds like Melissa is joining their "conversation." No, wait, I totally did not mean that in a sexual way. She's really down there with them just talking. She must not realize they weren't done with their "discussion." All the more reason for them to vacate the common room. (Sorry, Christie. It's true. You know it.)
Oh, I'm terrible at being mysterious.
10-02-2002 8:47 PM - comments (0)
the sacrificial big mac
Being a vegetarian is not as hard as I imagined it would be. Then again, the only meat I ever really consumed was smothered in cheese, pickles, mustard and ketchup with a side of fries. I'm not sure you can even call that meat.
I just wish there were a word for someone whose diet consisted of bread, cheese and Cherry Coke.
10-02-2002 12:45 PM - comments (0)
It's quite a phenomenon, really, the way my older posts disappear into a black hole sometimes. As you may have noticed, there are no archives (no, this isn't a hint for Michael to do yet another thing for me. As it is, his website design ability is being used as a bargaining chip in any little tiff we get into). In my complete ignorance, I'm not sure where they go to. A file somewhere in Michael's computer? I rather like the idea of them washing up in a bottle on some foreign shore for the natives to read.
But what would the natives think of this?
I'm writing a musical. It's about a janitor who becomes a rock star and it will be very campy. Do not ask how I will be writing the music, as I have never written a note in my life. Maybe Elton John can help me out.
Yes, that is from April 2001, the first month I had this site. Says plenty about my culture and lifestyle, I think.
10-02-2002 9:37 AM - comments (0)
Weewoo weewoo Captain Morgan calling. Please pick up! Hello? Well, hello! But this is not Captain Morgan! It is Admiral Nelson! Bah!
10-02-2002 12:14 AM - comments (0)
bubble gum monster
On my way to the office, I stopped by Hitt Street Market to pick up some Subway (veggie subs aren't as disgusting as I thought they would be!) and gum. I really wish I hadn't seen the buckets of Bazooka Joe and Super Bubble. I grabbed as many handfuls as I could and dropped them on the counter, rightly prepared for the checkout clerk's amused/sickened response.
I can't stop chewing it. I got mostly grape by accident--in my rush to "get it before everyone else did," I wasn't particularly discriminating--but it makes my mouth both happy and upset. I always want another piece, even if I'm already chewing five or six. My lips and teeth are purple. Help.
Also, two things struck me while chewing the gum:
1. Bazooka Joe is still 5 cents a piece, the same as it was when I was eight and a gum piglet at the Little League baseball park's concession stand. My mom would give me money when my best friend and I watched her older brother's games, and I'd always buy Bazooka Joe, freezie pops and those horrid Atomic Fireball cinnamon balls.
2. Bazooka Joe used to be nice and hard, taking real effort to soften it to just the right consistency. It's super-soft now. Where's the challenge in that?
10-01-2002 1:15 PM - comments (0)
can't get no satisfaction
I am in complete fame and fortune withdrawal. Chase, hurry up before I hurt myself or someone else!
10-01-2002 9:54 AM - comments (0)
It's happening again. I'm becoming disillusioned with people and their ability to be honest, caring and loyal. While it would be ideal for people I know to be more thoughtful, I fully understand it is my undying and irrational optimism that continues to fuel the problem. I have a hard time being reasonable when it comes to the people in my life; they are either completely good or completely bad. No matter how many times this belief is shot down, I still maintain that my friends can do no wrong and my enemies can do no right.
It's a narrow-minded, stupid way of looking at things, for if I were honest with myself, I would have to realize that it is my friends who have probably caused me more pain than those I relegate to my black list. I don't particularly care what the people I don't like say about me; it is what my friends say and do that affects me greatly.
This is not to say that I don't have wonderful, caring, amazing friends. It is to say that my friends are human.
"Rare as a true love is, true friendship is still rarer." -Francois, duc de La Rochefoucauld
10-01-2002 9:49 AM - comments (0)