ultimate personality test
There are few songs better than Badly Drawn Boy's "Once Around the Block." I secretly assign that song to represent my personality--isn't that so odd? But everyone has songs that sort of match them--my friend Jen is definitely one of the prettier Incubus songs ("Stellar," probably), Christie has to be "Idioteque" and Melissa is surely "I'm Finding it Harder to be a Gentleman" by the White Stripes. Or "Honky Tonk Woman." It would be very cool if you would think about what song is you, and send the results to me. I'm horribly curious.
One last thing before I check out for the night: I've been devising a plan for some time now to make ouranophobe weirdly interesting. I think I have it at last. I have a morbid fear that I'll die and no one will know what to do for my funeral--what song to play, what mood to make it, etc. From talking to some friends, it's clear most have a definite idea of how they want their funeral/last wishes to go. I am going to compile the biggest list ever of funeral directions and post it right here. That way, your last wishes will be recorded and no one will have any excuse to mess up when you die.
Location/university (if applicable)
Cremation--yes or no
Location of funeral
Song(s) to be played
Open casket--yes or no
General mood of the event
How long people should mourn you
Will information--who gets what
Obituary--anything you'd like it to say
And if you're feeling super morbid, feel free to add the manner in which you think you might die/the desired way to die when you have to. I realize this seems incredibly strange, but it's more of a personality indicator than anything else.
04-30-2002 6:28 PM - comments (0)
living in sin
One of my favorite topics on talk shows is people with messy houses. Women went on Ricki Lake this morning to talk about how disgusted they are when they visit their sons and daughters'-in-law houses. Of course, they blame the daughters-in-law, while the sons just sit there looking stupid and making equally stupid (and sexist) comments. But these houses are beyond just a little messy--I'm talking clothes piled to the ceiling, dirty dishes all over the floor, cockroaches, etc. If there's one thing my future mother-in-law can expect from me is a clean house, and not because I'm into being domestic. I absolutely cannot stand a messy room, and my roommates can attest to that. My favorite procrastination activity is cleaning, and I set aside one night every week to clean, organize and vacuum my room. I guess I have problems studying when my room is messy (it also gives me an excuse to put studying off).
04-30-2002 1:36 PM - comments (0)
Okay, this may sound weird, but I just saw a commercial for some flower company (maybe 1-800-FLOWERS or FTD) that sounded as if it were using the song "In the Arms of Sleep" by the Smashing Pumpkins. I could swear I heard the woman singing "suffer my desire for you," which, as this guy could tell you, is definitely a line from that Pumpkins song.
I am probably wrong for two reasons: one, that song is really not appropriate for Mother's Day; two, I can't imagine the Smashing Pumpkins selling the rights to their music for a flower commercial. I'm going to keep my eyes peeled for the commercial again...
04-30-2002 9:30 AM - comments (0)
My mom got the results of her MRI back this weekend. I nearly had a heart attack waiting for her to tell me what was wrong. I hope she's okay with me talking about it here--it's just that it really scared me at first to hear her talking about it. It's called Arnold Chiari disorder (type 1) and it's what's been causing her horrible headaches since she was a kid. Most people's brain stems stop before (or a little after) the neck begins. My mom's goes until her spine, and that apparently has been the source of all of her problems with headaches, numbness and dizziness. It's associated with spina bifida, which I think is type 2. She told me all of this calmly while I was definitely on edge the entire time. It's a lot better than the other things I had imagined, I suppose.
More than anything (after she reassured me it wasn't as bad as I was imagining), I'm shocked that no one ever thought to give her an MRI until her new doctor. No one attempted to understand it--they just threw painkillers her way and hoped it would solve the problem. When my brother becomes a doctor, I have no doubt he's going to be one of the ones who actually cares enough about the field (and his patients) to constantly research new developments. Who knows? Maybe he'll be the one coming up with the medical discoveries.
I have a very cool family--an intelligent, brave mom; two smart, funny brothers and an awesome dad (who does things like send me a single photograph from our vacation--one that doesn't make any sense to me--wrapped in a piece of a Diet Dr. Pepper cardboard box). I love you guys.
04-30-2002 8:36 AM - comments (0)
the most boring post ever
I'm not sure why I did it, but I signed another year-long contract with VoiceStream today. Well, I didn't sign so much as click a button online, but I'm guessing it's equally binding. It's just that they keep sending me stuff in the mail about upgrading to their new "Preferred" service. I'm on the "Get More" plan, and two months ago I was on the "Get More NW" plan. I'm not entirely sure I know what the differences are, but the new plan they're offering adds 100 minutes to my weekday calling time.
Here's the thing: I had to call VoiceStream, mail in a little card or sign up online for this new plan. Is there a good reason the asinine company couldn't just upgrade everyone to this new plan if the only difference is 100 more minutes of calling time? Is anyone really going to become offended by this sudden change and call in, demanding to be put back on the old plan? "Hi, yes. I'm really pretty stupid, and I'd like less product for the same price." I could make a joke about socialists right now, but I'll be good and refrain.
So they didn't require me to renew my contract if I upgraded. It's if I wanted the sexy new Nokia 3390 phone that I'd have to renew. I'm a little confused as to how this is going to work--my original contract expires in August; are they just going to extend my contract until August 2003? I asked that of a VoiceStream customer service person, who, like 99% of VoiceStream customer service people, obviously didn't know and made up an answer on the spot so as to sound like she knew.
So why stay with such a screwed up company? For one, I don't know of anybody who has had a perfect experience with his/her cell phone company. Either there's not enough minutes, roaming is pricey, long distance isn't included, service is bad, you get charged for things you didn't want or didn't ask for, etc. VoiceStream has the following problems: it doesn't offer unlimited weeknight minutes (which is when I make the majority of my calls--I barely touch my unlimited weekend minutes because the only person I'd want to talk for long periods of time I'm around); it charges outrageously if you exceed your allotted minutes ($.35/minute); it charges for the first minute of calls, even if you hang up before a machine picks up; the customer service people, though nice, don't know anything about the service; there will most likely be problems as a result of my temporary stay in Amarillo. No one knows what to do about that, and I certainly will need my phone then.
But the good things outnumber the bad, I think: online bill paying; unlimited weekend minutes; price is within my range ($39.99/month); the customer service people are quick to issue rebates if they screw something up; long distance and roaming are free; I won't have to deal with the hassle of switching companies and having to pay for a new phone/having to inform everyone I know of my new number; I can check how many minutes I've used on their automated system; cheap downloadable ring tones (I got Frankie Valli's "Oh What a Night" for $.99. What a steal); AIM capabilities on my new phone; free text messaging.
And yes, these lists are simply my way of justifying why I impulsively signed another contract. I'm really sorry to have done all of that--I'm sure you're bored to death right now, but if you're thinking of getting a cell or switching to a new company, maybe they'll help you (she says with a guilty look).
04-29-2002 10:23 PM - comments (0)
I can't concentrate. I've been staring at my to do list for approximately 93 minutes, completing only the tasks that can be done while at my computer. I have an aversion to...well, doing things. Actually, I just put on the new Badly Drawn Boy album and I'm funneling all of my energy together so I can vacuum and get some reading done. It will most likely have been in vain. You know those things they sell on infomercials that exercise your muscles for you while you just sit there? I need a whole machine that moves my body so I can do everything. Like make the bed or make an omelette or go to class. Maybe I can get an electric wheelchair. No, a manual one. And then I can hire a chaffeur to push it for me.
(God help me.)
Congratulations to roommate and best friend extraordinaire Christie (you can see her in my pictures section, which will be updated and perfected this weekend, along with the other sections). She and I went shopping this afternoon and she finally got some clothes worthy of going to Shattered in. With my help (ahem) she found a very sexy magenta shirt with floppy, sort of ruffly sleeves (I really don't know how to describe it) and a short black skirt from Express. She then proceeded to buy: three varieties of shower gel from Bath and Body Works, a striped polo from American Eagle and a striped polo from Hollister. When she came home, she read that her horoscope for today warned her against being overly greedy and advised that she keep her credit card "on a short lease." So much for ESP.
Also, if you would like your site to be mentioned in my links section, e-mail me.
04-29-2002 8:10 PM - comments (0)
definitely not meaningful
I just got back from the mall. Correction--I just got done consuming the biggest bowl of Fruit Loops ever. It was my dinner; lay off me man, I'm starving! (said in Chris Farley Gap Girl voice). I really want to work out tonight; actually getting into my car to leave is the hardest part. It's either the gym or homework, and both sound terribly unappealing.
I got some workout clothes at Hollister. Hollister, if you didn't know, is a brighter, happier and most importantly, cheaper Abercrombie and Fitch. In fact, it's the "California version" of Abercrombie. The shorts I got are really cute: white with turquoise stripes and "Hollister" emblazoned across the back. I wish they didn't say that, but I'm guessing no one's really looking at me there anyway. They're also really short; clothes seem to be getting smaller and smaller. Either that or I'm getting bigger and bigger. Don't even think of offering your opinion on that one.
04-29-2002 5:21 PM - comments (0)
my haute couture void
If you can only buy two beauty products in the near future, I recommend special ordering Origins Ginger Glimmer (it's worth the extra money for shipping--the best puff glitter product out there) and Victoria's Secret Vanilla Lace body cream (any vanilla scented lotion is good, but Victoria Secret's lotions can be used after shaving your legs and they're very soft and smooth). They smell great together and it's perfect for sunny days.
I'm going to the mall with Christie after my nap. I definitely can't afford to buy anything (I did pay off last month's credit card bill, though), but it's still fun to look. I wonder how the Amarillo mall will compare to the mall here and the ones in Houston. If it's anything like the mall here, I'm going to be depressed--you could visit each week for a couple of months and stores would still have the same clothes on sale. It's even more depressing to know everyone wears the same stuff because they all shop at the same place.
I need to sleep. More meaningful posts later today, I promise.
04-29-2002 1:09 PM - comments (0)
yes, it's spring fever
The feeling of waking up when it's raining and storming is great--I wake up slowly and sensuously, looking forward to staying inside with the windows open. It's a hazy sort of feeling, one that takes over my entire body. That said, when I wake up feeling sunshine on my body (my bed is against a wall with two big windows), all I want to do is be completely awake. I want to stand outside and feel the sun on me and the wind gently blow through my hair. I'm not normally into nature, but on those rare occasions when it's 70 degrees and nothing but blue sky outside, I'm like everyone else: totally drugged by the weather and inspired to write gushing posts about it (well, maybe the latter is something only I do).
I'm excited because we're watching Mrs. Dalloway in Brit Lit today. For some reason, classes have such appeal when something is going on instead of a lecture. I know I'm not the only one who feels that way, either: movie days were the high point of junior high, especially if they were in P.E. I, being one of the most unathletic people I know, breathed a huge sigh of relief at the prospect of going to 7th period non-sweaty and non-humiliated, even if it meant I had to watch Cool Runnings for the sixth time, because that was the only movie the P.E. department owned. Anyone know what happened to Doug E. Doug?
04-29-2002 8:37 AM - comments (0)
The disgruntled portion of American sentiment that suggests we should side with Palestine is absolutely wrong. The Palestinian supporters at my school constantly try to distribute material on why Israel is evil, not them. Israeli soldiers kill women and children. Palestinians kills people nicely (um, yeah). Israel is suppressing Palestine. Blah blah blah.
For all the geniuses out there who think we should end our support of Israel, here's a couple of things you should know (or already do and just don't care to be rational). One--there are far more Jews in this country than Palestinians. That's called a constituency. Two--unless you've been living in an Afghani cave, you saw it was the Palestinians, not the Israelis, cheering and partying in the streets after we were attacked on Sept. 11. Three--Palestinians are evil. The New York Times reported today that "three Palestinian gunmen dressed as Israeli soldiers attacked while residents were relaxing on the Sabbath, killing four, including a 5-year-old girl." So yeah, we're going to go ahead and support Israel. Politically that is; Israelis are probably evil too. There will never be peace between the two groups; they both think their ass-backward religion is right. I will never get over the idea that people kill each other in the name of God. Or in this case, the name of paltry "holy" land.
I'm not sure if God's staring in befuddlement right now, but I know I am.
04-28-2002 9:07 AM - comments (0)
the worst job, like, ever
As I was driving to the gym today, I noticed the mailman delivering mail in the pouring rain. I remembered the old Postal Service slogan--something about snow, sleet and rain not stopping them from delivering mail. You get the gist. Then I thought about how much it would suck to have to do that in really bad, snowy, wet conditions. That got me thinking about how the Postal Service goes about hiring mailpeople--they obviously don't use their infamous slogan to entice potential hires. "You get to deliver the mail in the most brutal of weather conditions, all for little more than minimum wage. Benefits include an adventurous workplace (anything can happen when your coworkers get upset) and exposure to all sorts of interesting things, like dogs. And anthrax."
Another weird thing is that when I drove back from the gym (about 50 minutes later), the mailman's truck was literally six houses past where it was when I saw it the first time. I wonder what the guy was doing for so long in that truck...
That was really poorly-said, but I'm still recovering from my intense workout (I was punishing myself for having eaten so many gross foods last night). Last night was so much fun. All I'll say is that I fell in between Melissa's bed and wall (not once, but twice) and that there was a funny incident involving a vacuum cleaner and Dance Party USA. I love my roommates.
04-27-2002 11:40 AM - comments (0)
snug as a bug in a...you get the point
Two bags of popcorn later, I post. That's two bags in two days, mind you. I'm not a popcorn addict or anything that mysterious. Although I get the feeling I give my friend Ben the impression I'm addicted to various painkillers. Which I'm not.
Tonight: Pier One for candles (mood)/Country Kitchen for chocolate chip pancakes (taste)/Olde Un for adult sex shop fun (roommate bondage...er, bonding). This weblog has gotten quite risque, don't you think?
Interesting story from junior year of high school, circa 1997: The newspaper staff I was assistant editor of at the time was more gossipy than a suburban housewife's Bunko party. I was friends with one of the writers, a gorgeous, insane girl named Sunanda, and she constantly had to know what was going on in my life. From the sordid details of my breakup with Aaron to the catfights I got into with other staffers, she made it a point to know all.
That year, I had a very big crush on my good friend Doug. So Sunanda made it her personal mission (I've used that expression twice today. Don't let me use it again) to point it out in close proximity to him. She really wanted to see us together, and she knew I was too shy to do anything about it. It was like a game of Truth or Dare, but gone horribly, horribly wrong. She thought a clever way for us to talk about it even when he was within earshot was to call him "Rug." (I'm not sure if I already mentioned she was a few peroxide bottles short of a sorority house.) But she would delight in waving her arms wildly in the newspaper room, proclaiming my interest in Rug. It is nothing short of a miracle I got the poor guy to go with me to prom the next year, I swear. Sunanda went back home to India after she graduated that year, and I haven't heard from her since. I ake that, conservative scum
I'm in the bookstore instead of my history class, because let's face it: my history class is absurd. I bought the new Badly Drawn Boy album (the soundtrack for a new movie called About a Boy) and a White Stripes album Melissa was playing the other day that I can't get out of my head.
There's this guy in my poli sci class who has made it his personal mission to attack any question I ask. We were discussing the European Union and its move towards political integration. I brought up the concept of a common defense, and the ramifications of such a thing for neutral countries like Sweden. My professor said it was an "outstanding" observation, and proceeded to answer my question to my satisfaction. However, Jackass (as he will hereby be known as) then said the U.S. doesn't vote to deploy troops, so there's no real change in sovereignty. If you have half a brain, you realize what he said made absolutely no sense. First, the Senate and House do vote to deploy troops. Second, if countries didn't get to vote on such an issue, that is a tremendous compromise of their sovereignty. Third, we were talking about the EU, not the U.S. They have some things in common, but an analogy between the two (especially one concerning defense) is weak at best.
Jackass thinks just because he's a conservative that he understands politics better than me. That's absolutely ludicrous; I have a solid background in political science and follow modern-day political systems more than the average person. I have a much better grade in that class than he does, and I answer questions more thoughtfully and eloquently than him. He makes this annoying Bush-esque smirk whenever he opens his mouth. Also, I bet he has a small penis.
I'm still in a damn good mood. I love having red hair. It empowers me or something.
04-26-2002 3:12 PM - comments (0)
stop smoking the prozac
I've been in a fairly pessimistic, miserable, depressed mood all week. Actually, maybe longer than that. Nothing in particular prompted it, but I am going to BE IN A GREAT MOOD FROM NOW ON. And the all-caps should alert you to this new, dazzling, upbeat state of mind of mine. Starting with this FANTASTICALLY GREAT-TASTING Slim-Fast I'm drinking right now. And continuing with FUN, INTERESTING AND INFORMATIVE political science/American History/British Literature classes THAT DEFINITELY DON'T MAKE ME WANT TO PUT A BULLET IN MY HEAD. I'll finish my academic day with some BEGUILING WORK AT THE DESIGN LAB, certainly the way everyone wants to SPEND THEIR FRIDAY EVENING.
The ice cubes from my Slim-Fast shake taste like YMCA pool water. The YMCA, as you may recall, had signs up around the pool reminding us that "WE DON'T SWIM IN YOUR TOILET, SO DON'T PEE IN OUR POOL." I'm sure that classy poster inspired dozens of four-year-old kids to get out of the pool, dry off thoroughly and walk slowly and orderly to the bathroom. And now that I've told that story, I no longer want my FANTASTICALLY GREAT-TASTING Slim-Fast.
Let's all have an incredible day, dammit.
04-26-2002 7:59 AM - comments (0)
such a flirt
The Rock and I have something in common: we both like listening to Outkast when we work out. Is it weird I have a semi-crush (part attraction, part disgust) on him?
Speaking of crushes, I have the biggest one on my boyfriend. I can't stop thinking about him today. It's so weird!
04-25-2002 3:14 PM - comments (0)
I find it funnier than you could ever know that they're playing Jimmy Eat World on Top 40 stations. Not just Jimmy Eat World, but remixed Jimmy Eat World. In high school, I had an English class with two girls named Sara(h). The Sara(h)s used to talk about Jimmy Eat World constantly, in that "I'm so indie" kind of way high school kids can be (and some unfortunate college kids, I've discovered). The Sar(hs) did (and I'm guessing still do) have good taste; times just change. And yeah, Jimmy Eat World's stuff is all right, but it's nothing short of ironic that it's now being played between N*SYNC's "Girlfriend" and J.Lo's "Ain't It Funny?"
Then again, if JEW (as my brother calls them) didn't want to be popular among the Sum 41/Blink 182 crowd, they shouldn't have written a song like "The Middle," which is just begging to earn such status.
04-25-2002 12:29 PM - comments (0)
an exercise in pain
There are still nights when I have trouble sleeping because I remember what it felt like to be in love with someone who had done nothing but hurt me. I've realized that this is a universal pain, that we have all been consumed by someone and had our hearts broken. In a cruel sort of way, it's almost worse that we never even got a chance to be with them. I'm not trying to be self-indulgent. I don't believe I'm the only person who understands pain or loneliness or that hollow pit in your stomach when you want something so badly but can never have it. So for the duration of this post, feel free to get weepy and upset about that one thing that didn't work out that you sometimes still think about. You have my permission.
"i threw you the obvious
and you flew with it on your back
a name in your recollection
down among a million same
difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed
and passed over
when i look right through,
see you naked but oblivious
but you don't see me.
but i threw you the obvious
just to see if there's more behind the
eyes of a fallen angel
eyes of a tragedy
here i am expecting just a little bit too much
from the wounded
but i see
see through it all
see through, see you
because i threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind the eyes of a fallen angel
eyes of a tragedy
apparently nothing at all
you don't see me
you don't see me at all."
-A Perfect Circle "Three Libras"
04-25-2002 9:28 AM - comments (0)
High from my codeine-laced cough syrup (it's a prescription, oh ye of little faith), I can now post about my nightmare from last night. I went to visit Michael, and he was busy with group meetings and such. I stuck around his apartment for a while, and then went to the mall to kill some time. As I was window-shopping, I saw Michael holding hands with another girl (coincidentally, a girl who I suspect has a crush on him, and who, on many occasions, I've gotten jealous of for no reason). He looked so happy. I started crying and ran back to his apartment (I guess in the dream I didn't need a car) and waited for him to get back. He brought her back with him and instead of being apologetic, he seemed really proud of his infidelity.
I woke up feeling miserable and wanted to call him. I know he's not cheating on me--he never would, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a clueless girl--but I still needed to be reassured it was just a bad dream. It felt so real, which is what scares me. I am sadly aware that our relationship will have to end at some point. Nothing lasts forever. He's told me before that no matter what happens, I'll always have a piece of his heart, that we'll always love each other, and that's comforting. Usually. But I haven't come to terms with the fact that there will be someone to replace me, someone he'll look at adoringly, someone he'll hold in bed, someone he'll tell how much he loves. I don't want there to be someone else. I want there to be me.
It's scary how much you can love one person, I think. It's even scarier to know that there's no guarantee that comes along with it. This is all one big risk you take, hoping against extraordinary odds that it will be the one relationship that works out. So are we idealistic or just stupid? Or too in love to know the difference?
04-24-2002 9:31 PM - comments (0)
under rug swept
Who knew cleaning the entire downstairs would take three girls more than an hour? At least we took care of the bugs and grime. And I got to use my new Pledge Grab-It Mop. The little burst of elation that accompanied that last sentence is disturbing, to say the least.
I really need to get some homework done. I've been slacking all week. So hello regional trade arrrangements, goodbye Dominos cheesybread and Dawson's Creek.
For all of you who have e-mailed me in the last two weeks, I promise I'll write back sometime tonight. I'm sorry for being so rude.
04-24-2002 6:08 PM - comments (0)
making up for lost time
Kaity and her twin sister's birthday was Saturday, and we were supposed to go bar-hopping, but she never called--definitely not like her. She e-mailed me last night, and it turns out her aunt is really sick, so she went to Chicago to see her. I feel really bad about that--she deserves an awesome belated birthday party this weekend. She's so cheerful--the only person I know who could go through an ordeal like she did this weekend and still be upbeat. It mystifies me, but I definitely wish I could have that kind of attitude.
The roomies and I are going to have a mega-cleanup of the downstairs today. We've been putting it off for far too long. I just hope I don't get assigned to dusting duty. I used to complain endlessly to my mom when she made me dust--she started to realize she should just do it herself because I was so terrible at it. Plus she was sick of hearing me whine (a good strategy to getting what you want in most situations).
Melissa has a date tomorrow night! And Christie and I eavesdropped on her conversation with the guy last night (hey, she told us to) and he was singing old country songs to her. It was really cute.
04-24-2002 11:39 AM - comments (0)
as my youth lay dying
When I woke up this morning, I heard the pleasant sounds of birds chirping and cars driving by. I'm not being sarcastic; hearing those things somehow reminded me of when I first moved to Texas. Basically nice memories of warm spring days, little to no responsibility and little baby birds being born in a cul-de-sac near where I lived.
It's funny how hearing certain things--lawnmowers, a schoolbus driving by, birds chirping, even the song "Linger" by the Cranberries--reminds me of a time when I had so much in front of me and could actually be free enough to appreciate the uncertainty. In a way, I guess I didn't even know things were uncertain. I took things at face value; no endless analyzing of relationships, no hidden agendas, no guilt for being happy, alive and unburdened by the real world. So today, after I finish the requisite showering, cleaning and organizing (because we can never really avoid that part of the real world), I will go outside, eat lunch, watch cars go by and pretend I'm 13 again. Maybe I'll even hum a bar or two of "Linger."
04-24-2002 8:19 AM - comments (0)
horror of horrors
I hate feeling like there's a million things to do that I'll never get to. And yet that's been the presiding feeling all day. That and total disgust at the many ants parading downstairs. Just thinking about ants makes me itchy.
Does anyone really eat at Long John Silver's? And would that person admit to doing so? I suppose someone must be dining there if they're still in business, but the idea of fast-food fish really gives me the chills.
04-23-2002 12:00 PM - comments (0)
you're so damn insensitive, cleaning product
I just saw a commercial for a new fragrance-free Downy fabric softener. The advertising firm must not have double-checked the ad--at the end, the voice-over says "New Downy, in sensitive." But it obviously sounds like "New Downy Insensitive." Which is really funny in my DayQuil state of mind.
I had the sudden urge to sing "Summer Days" from Grease in the shower this morning. So I did, even the guys' lines. But in the middle, I suddenly stopped because I realized my cat was in the bathroom. For some reason, I was worried he would think I had a bad voice. Kittens can be so judgmental.
Christie and I are taking our "littles" out today. It's supposed to be gorgeous, so maybe we'll play Frisbee and Nerf football on the quad. It's sort of sad that the kids never really got to be friends, but I suppose their differences were too great to ignore. If I'm a Big Sister again, I'm going to request that the program gives me two somewhat similar kids (at least in age and ability).
We're turning in thumbnails today for the Spring Break spread in magazine design. I drew a bikini-clad girl (a la Lichtenstein) in PhotoShop and pasted "WHEN GOOD GIRLS GO BAD" around it in Hollywood blockbuster-style lettering. I just hope it goes over well.
04-23-2002 9:40 AM - comments (0)
fun with inanity
Using the amazing Poem Generator, here's what you get using CNN.com as inspiration:
CNN com Europe sides
against Blake pleaded not guilty Actor
Robert Blake arrest latest
Hollywood scandal not enough Appropriately Too
much View Results MORE more more
VIDEO EXTRA INFO SPECIAL
REPORTS QUICK VOTE Israel, Castaway
dog eludes rescuers Bush, Gore spar
on show transcripts CNN
com Europe CNNenEspanol.
com CNNArabic.com CNNArabic.
com Why France Wolf Blitzer: Back from
Middle East ON CNN Program
Schedule NewsNight with Aaron
Brown:Environmentalists contend President Bush Gore
Israel Palestinians wonder where
they go from Middle East ON show transcripts
CNN com Asia CNN.
Access: Margerry Bakley Charles Feldman: Case against the SCENE Alessio
Vinci: Scandal has been covered: Not guilty to
get into the
SCENE Alessio Vinci: Scandal
Profile | Timeline | Gallery ON
wants to smuggle heroin•Nets
down Pacers, even series ENTERTAINMENT
travels: State has been covered: Not
guilty Actor Robert Blake pleaded not
guilty to kill his
I absolutely love it. It fits the media's urgency and ludicrousy perfectly. Oh, and if you're going to use ouranophobe.com to come up with a poem, make sure you type in http://cec.wustl.edu/~msd2/ouranophobe, because www.ouranophobe.com is really not my site's server. Even though I sort of tricked you into thinking that.
04-22-2002 10:04 PM - comments (0)
that's what really hurts
After a healthy serving of generic DayQuil, I am feeling much better. It's amazing how much being sick affects my mental health. I can barely pay attention to anything, and I feel flustered when I have to answer a question or make conversation. In some ways, being sick is worse on my mind than it is on my body.
One thing I am very sick of: articles in women's magazines that deal with how to please your man and photo spreads that showcase women in provocative poses, wearing next to nothing. You don't see magazines like Maxim or Details going on and on about how important it is to adjust your personality to hold on to a woman. You don't see magazines like Maxim or Details showcasing men in provocative poses, wearing next to nothing. Nope, they essentially (and wisely) advise men to be honest and to be themselves, and they'll get what they want.
We're told we have to "back off" sometimes and give our man space; we have to "let our guys watch SportsCenter without interrupting" and, to add insult to injury, when it comes to sex, we have to make sure they feel satisfied at all times. I'm not kidding--there's an entire article in Cosmo this month on how to improve a guy's orgasm. A guy's. Like they need any help. How fair is that?
I've said it before and I'll say it again: any women who complains about the social inequalities between males and females need look no further than their fellow women. We do it to ourselves.
04-22-2002 4:29 PM - comments (0)
help! my head is on fire
I apologize for my uncharacteristic lack of posting as of late. I've been very busy and very sick.
I neglected to report on the two major events that occured on Saturday night: I dyed my hair a crazy shade of auburn (I call it "Jessi Marshall angst-maroon," after a girl I knew in high school who used to have the same shade) and my duplex was invaded by worms. Yes, worms. I realized the invasion had happened when I saw Elliott proudly displaying a worm he had severed. And then both parts of the worm slithered away. It was life-altering, to say the least. After some yelps of protest, Michael heroically agreed to be on worm duty, and he kept having to collect the worms and throw them away. Forgive the obvious sexism, but sometimes I love boys and their misplaced sense of duty.
I should explain: it had been raining like crazy that night, and our duplex was put together (and is maintained) by people who might have an eighth-grade education between them. We've called the landlord a dozen times about the bug problem (did I mention we also get roly-polies and ants when it rains?), but all they ever do is send someone out to recaulk the paneling under the door. What we need are new doors, but they're too cheap to replace them. That might be a good policy the first few times rentors complain, but it's probably not a financially-sound plan if they have to keep paying for the supplies and labor because they can't seem to fix the problem. If they don't fix it this time, I swear I'm going to hire someone independently to put in new doors and have them send the bill to our landlord.
I made a mousepad. My adorable Julius the Monkey one finally fell apart, so I bought a DIY one from Target and used a picture of Badtz-Maru (the evil penguin from Sanrio Surprises) for it. It is wonderful. And orange.
04-22-2002 1:06 PM - comments (0)
just leave me alone
I was in a horrible mood last night. It seems that whenever I eat, my stomach starts hurting badly. And that makes me cranky. Then I got drenched walking (running) from my car to the mall (why did I wear flip-flops?). Then everyone in the mall started annoying me. There were more people with mullets, cowboy belts and huge stomachs than I've ever seen in one place. I'm pretty sure it's because of the high school FFA (Future Farmers of America) competition being held at MU this weekend. I couldn't find anything I was looking for in Target. Everything was making my mood worse.
It was storming like you wouldn't believe last night. It was really beautiful, but I woke up around 5:30 with a terrible headache (Michael had had one earlier). Something about the change in barometric pressure that doesn't agree with us, I guess. Anyway, I've got a tedious day of chores and Student News production ahead of me. I'll try to be more cheerful next time I post.
04-21-2002 8:21 AM - comments (0)
of the moment
I'm really excited by this new song by Res. It's called "They Say Vision." It's not really something I would imagine I'd like. I can't explain--Res (who is really beautiful) is known for soul, R&B, etc., but this song is sort of beyond classification. It's beautiful, interesting, new. And I have a feeling it's going to go really far.
Just don't judge the song by its video. They have her smiling too much, and some pseudo-artistic graphical stuff starts happening at the end of the song. It just seems really amateurish. Anyway, please download it. It might not be your type, but I think you'd like it.
I hope this doesn't come across as offensive, but I think it's neat that an African-American woman is breaking down some of the barriers between R&B/rap and rock. Those two genres are still incredibly segregated (unless you count Limp Bizkit or Lenny Kravitz, which I don't).
04-20-2002 8:54 AM - comments (0)
you're a strange little man
After a truly ridiculous post on Will Smith, I probably need to redeem myself. But all I can think to say is that if one thing is constant in life, it's the dumbness of the show Full House. If another thing is constant in life, it's my sick addiction to said show. And if a third thing is constant, it's that "Uncle" Joey Gladstone (who is by no means an uncle to any of the people on the show) should not be left alone with his "nieces" in their bedrooms after 10 p.m. This sentiment is also true for the actor portraying Uncle Joey, because he seems like a sick, sick man.
I think it's going to rain tonight. I love rain, but I hope the storms wait for Michael to get here.
04-19-2002 3:50 PM - comments (0)
we're onto you, will smith
I have decided it is my civic duty to reveal rapper/actor Will Smith as the biggest dork in America--nay, the world. I'm pretty sure all I need to do to accomplish this is copy and paste the lyrics to his smash hit "Men in Black." Without further ado:
Uh it's the M.I.B.'s
Here come the Men in Black
Here come the Men in Black (here they come)
They won't let you remember
Right on, right on
The good guys dress in black remember that
Just in case we ever face to face and make contact
The title held by me...M.I.B.
Means what you think you saw, you did not see
So don't blink
Think what was there but now's gone
Black suit with the black Ray Ban's on
Walk in shadow move in silence
Guard against extra-terrestrial violence
But though we ain't on no government list
We straight don't exist
No names and no fingerprints
Saw something strange
Watch your back
Cause you never quite know where the M.I.B.'s is at
Here come the Men in Black (here they come)
The galaxy defenders (right on, right on)
Here come the Men in Black (the men in black)
They won't let you remember (uh uh, uh uh)
Now from the deepest of the darkest of night
On the horizon, bright light in the site tight
Cameras zoom, only your pen been doom
But then like BOOM black suits fill the room up
With the quickness talk with the witnesses
Vivid memories turn to fantasies
Ain't no M.I.B.'s
Can I please
Do what we say that's the way we kick it
Ya know what I mean
I say my noisy cricket get wicket on ya
We're your first, last and only line of defense
Against the worst scum of the universe
So don't fear us, cheer us
If you ever get near us, don't jeer us
We're the fearless
M.I.B.'s freezin' the ball of flat
Whats that stand for?
Men In Black.
The Men in Black
Right on, Right on
The Men in Black (the men in black)
Let me see ya just bounce it with me
Just bounce with me
Just bounce it with me c'mon
Let me see ya just slide with me
Just slide with me
Just slide with me c'mon
Let me see ya take a walk with me
Just walk with me
Take a walk with me c'mon
And make your neck work
Here come the Men in Black (here they come)
The galaxy defenders (right on, right on)
Here come the Men in Black (the men in black)
They won't let you remember (uh uh, uh uh)
A-ight check it
Let me tell you listen, close in
I know we might seem imposin'
But trust me if we ever show in your session
Believe me it's for your own protection
Cuz we see things that you need not see
And we be places that you need not be
So go with your life
Forget that Roswell crap
Show love to the black suit
Cuz that's the men in
That's the men in...
Here come the Men in Black (men in black)
The galaxy defenders (galaxy defenders)
Here come the Men in Black (oh here they come)
They won't let you remember (uh uh, uh uh)
If you managed to read all of that and haven't shot yourself yet, I want to say one more thing about Will Smith. He might be the only "artist" who has actually gotten worse over the years instead of better. Admit it--he was pretty good on Fresh Prince. And his collaboration with Jazzy Jeff on the hit "Parents Just Don't Understand" was an accurate representation of the struggle adolescents must go through to gain independence and respect from their parents. Now he's singing about fictional characters and getting jiggy.
04-19-2002 11:40 AM - comments (0)
would that even work?
All I remember about last night was listening to some Space Ghost song about upside-down pineapple cake ("WHY IS IT UPSIDE DOWN? WHY IS IT UPSIDE DOWN?"), researching the phenonenom of small penises on the Internet (Christie and I thought for sure the plural was "penii") and then becoming hopeleslly distraught when Michael was nowhere to be found at around 1:30. He finally came back around 2:45, and believe me when I say I had envisioned every possible scenario as to what had happened to him. The one I was woking on when he came back was "got kidnapped by al Qaeda in the parking lot of his apartment building at Wash U and was being tortured somewhere in St. Louis." I'm not a fun person to worry.
My throat is absolutely killing me. But the taste of these Halls cherry cough drops might actually be worse than the burning sensation in my throat, so I might just try some Day-Quil.
04-19-2002 7:35 AM - comments (0)
Christie and I treated ourselves to dinner at the lovely Flatbranch Pub tonight. First off, let me say that the dog tied to the bench outside was looking at me funny. When he wasn't staring at me with his evil blue eyes (dogs have blue eyes?!), he was gnawing on his foot. I think he had gangrene. Let me also say that if I see one more sorostitute wearing "such a cute halter top" with "such a cute belt" and "such cute jeans" and "like, such cute breast implants," I will scream. However, being around such people for the better part of two hours enabled me to perfect my new theory: the reason why those girls are able to afford such expensive surgery is because all they have to give the doctor in return is their personality. And don't even tell me that when they're all together, looking collectively cute, that they deserve anything other than criticism from those of us who value our personalities above our ability to pick up more than one guy a night at a party. Also, beware of those girls. Like our friend the blue-eyed dog, they have gangrene.
I sound like I'm in a bitchy mood, but I'm not. We had a really good time tonight, and after we finish our homework, we're going to make fun amaretto drinks using whatever ingredients we can find. And then we will proclaim ourselves the best bartenders in the world, because you say things like that when you've been drinking too much amaretto.
04-18-2002 6:56 PM - comments (0)
The last post I wrote got lost. Maybe it's a good thing--sometimes I forget it's not nice to make fun of kids who think they have all the answers.
I have no idea how to write a research paper that isn't entirely a paraphrasing of someone else's thoughts. I know nothing about the role of women's groups during World War I; I suppose I can provide analysis, but I am not a fountain of information when it comes to the "Great War." I just hope my British Literature professor is okay with a paper that's 95% someone else's thoughts and the subsequent citations.
04-18-2002 3:28 PM - comments (0)
hey man slow down
It still surprises me how utterly paranoid people get when a cop is driving near them. They slow down until they're going nearly 15 miles an hour below the legal limit, and they grip the steering wheel with both hands, looking straight ahead until the cop is gone. No cop is going to write you a ticket for going the speed limit. You're not breaking any laws by adhering to it, and by acting terrified and driving slowly, you're not only endangering (and annoying) other drivers on the road, you're giving cops yet another reason to think they can do whatever they want because they have your consent.
I'm not the kind of person who constantly talks about how much she hates cops. I don't think donut jokes are funny. But if we were to educate ourselves on our rights and not back down when a police officer unfairly threatens us, police brutality and racial profiling might slowly fade away. Instead of being our protectors, American police seem to now be our bullies. Of course, there are cops who actually fight crime and all that. I'm sure there will be people who are offended by my comments, especially in this post-Sept. 11 world of loving any and all police officers, firemen and incompetent presidents. But the police officers who patrol neighborhoods, desperate to ticket people going five miles per hour over the speed limit and who get a kick out of our irrational fear of them are the ones I take issue with.
Side note: it was the Black Panthers who started calling cops "pigs." Like a lot of their code words and philosophies, the Black Panthers specifically chose a Biblical reference (the cloven-hoofed animals Jews couldn't eat because they were considered filthy and unholy) for police officers. I learned that in African-American Politics last semester and found it interesting.
04-18-2002 11:52 AM - comments (0)
how to fire a gun (and mean it)
I had the weirdest dream last night. I was being held hostage with Kaity, and I kept devising plans to escape. The one I used was to seduce one of my kidnappers. It was gross--he was really really overweight (I'm talking 800 pounds), and his mouth was all fleshy and slimy feeling. I kissed him for a second and somehow got his gun out of his pocket. The horrible thing is that I shot four people, and ended up killing two of them. I told them not to get any closer, but none of them believed I would actually fire. And I did, and I wonder how a psychologist would analyze that.
It seems that whenever I check my bank account balance over the phone or my Discover balance, the latter is always about five times the former. And the former keeps dwindling while the latter merrily grows. I'm going to need two jobs this summer just to pay off my balance, something I normally do every month without fail. I hope this doesn't screw up my credit.
Evil Discover Card: 8 million
Rachel (with her trusty sidekick, Bank Account): 17
It's not a pretty picture.
04-18-2002 9:34 AM - comments (0)
After having lengthy conversations with both Christie and Kaity on the nature of relationships, I feel compelled to declare that things should be much easier. Enough with the mind games, the need to have control, the inability to talk about how we feel--basically, the complexity of romantic relationships. Wasn't there a time when relationships were based on the spark that flies between two people, the indescribable bond between them, the sudden irrational need to be around each other all the time? When did the rules start coming into play? Why must we defend our feelings to the bitter end, protecting them from the pain of rejection, while all we end up doing is suffocating those very feelings?
I think what we all need is to bring back the pure, organic crush; the kind of truthful (at any cost) relationship that's based entirely on the beauty of that being-in-love feeling. Adding complicated mores on how to act, what to say, what not to say and how much we are allowed to care is really screwing up things.
I find it disturbing that some people will never have real happiness because they're too concerned with winning the game.
04-17-2002 8:46 PM - comments (0)
Every afternoon, Elliott and I have a sleeping contest. Our eyes become heavy, our tongues start to stick out a little and our legs spread apart uncouthly. Actually, I just curl up in a little ball and mind my own business. Elliott is the rude one. He's such a I will be watching it, wishing for the 100th time that I were the one making out with Joshua Jackson, while Katie Holmes has sleeping contests with my cat.
04-17-2002 3:42 PM - comments (0)
talk show apparel
I don't think neon green spandex looks good on slender women. That said, it looks especially atrocious on 250-pound women. These are the women whose children want them to "stop dressing like a stripper" (the topic of Maury for four out of every five shows; the fifth is usually "Who's the Daddy?"). The women defend the way they dress, claiming "it's my body, so I can do what I want," and more outrageously, that they look good.
"Aww, you just jealous 'cause I looks damn sexy," they yell over the crowd's loud disapproval and/or disgust. Au contraire, Makeleesha and Monet. Your flabby thighs and jiggly breasts are going to be the focal point of many horrible, spandex-infested nightmares tonight. Thanks for the memories.
04-17-2002 1:12 PM - comments (0)
We had a really interesting discussion on multinational corporations in political science today. Are they good or bad? my professor asked, knowing full well the vagueness of his question. Some people said foreign direct investment is a positive thing--it fosters economic growth in the host country, and is obviously a good way for corporations to get around tax laws and maximize benefits (by taking advantage of the host country's lack of labor laws). Some argued that MNCs are inherently bad--they exploit workers and the environment, and force those nations to be even more dependent on the developed world.
The fact is, most MNCs work with developed nations. Stories of The Man going into poverty-stricken nations and using their labor (little children especially) to produce Gap sweaters are widely exaggerated. But when I made my argument, I made sure to impress upon the class that though I am fully aware that businesses must be self-interested, a universal standard of human rights should exist in all dealings. I'm not talking about wage increases--by and large, what MNCs pay local workers is equal to or exceeds what they were making domestically. It would be foolish to assume that they should be paid the U.S.'s minimum wage; their standard of living is certainly not equal to our own, and what $5.65 buys in America differs greatly from what it buys in the rest of the developing world.
However, it is not ethical to employ children or implement 14-hour workdays. While what human rights entails to each country differs, the U.N. chartered a very comprehensive (and not entirely U.S.-based) declaration of human rights a few decades ago. I believe that MNCs ought to adhere to that set of guidelines, despite whatever laws exist in the host country.
My professor, who refuses to make his political leanings known, played devil's advocate and asked if I considered myself to be an "arrogant do-gooder." I know what he means--too often do liberals, who fail to understand the ramifications of their self-righteousness ("I know what the developing world needs better than it does"), prescribe exactly the wrong solution for the very people they're trying to defend. Maybe families rely on their children to work, and without that extra income, they're pushed farther into poverty. A job is a job, right? And it's easy for me, being an American and having no concept of even second-world poverty, to think the way I do. I have the luxury of having principles.
That's the issue I take with the Ralph Naders of the world--big business is evil, pollution is evil, sweatshops are evil, they chant from their air-conditioned glass houses. They're so self-absorbed that they can't see that their righteousness not only cost Gore (the realist, the environmentalist, the smart one) the election; it cost the rest of the world something precious--middle ground. Extremes, though necessary in a democracy, are impractical when it comes to the reality of global economics. Compromise is sometimes necessary, whether it comes in the form of allowing a multinational corporation to set up shop in your country and sacrificing some sovereignty, or by buying a sweater from Gap because by not buying one, people really do suffer.
They'd suffer less if the biggest and best compromise of all was made: corporations learning to be good citizens. That means agreeing across the board to basic human rights standards. That means caring about the environment, because even if it's not in their best interest in the short-term, it's terribly important (even financially) in the long-term. That means acknowledging that sometimes making the maximum amount of profit by keeping people down is not as important as making a lot of profit and trying to help developing countries actually develop.
As I was leaving class, a guy I've never spoken to came up to me, shook my hand and told me to never be reluctant to be a liberal. That made me feel weird. I wonder what true liberals would think of my argument.
04-17-2002 11:31 AM - comments (0)
As I was lathering myself up this morning with Victoria's Secret Endless Love Shower Gel, I started to think about what I should wear today. Had the people in my Monday/Wednesday/Friday seen me wear my coral-colored halter top and dark denim knee-length skirt?
That superficial thought prompted a memory of a time when I was in eighth grade and I had a competition with my friend, Kelli. Upon realizing that we were both clothes-obsessed, she bet that she could go the longest without "repeating" an outfit. I accepted. The bet went on for quite some time, as we both spent every dollar earned from babysitting on clothes. Kelli started becoming more and more obsessed with her appearance--the way her red hair wasn't perfectly straight, the fact that her Irish skin was too pale for her liking. The contest became more than an innocent bet for her. She began shoplifting when she realized she was about to "repeat." She had to be perfect in every area of her life (besides morality, I suppose). I gave up, desperately wanting to make her realize there was nothing wrong with her. On the contrary, she was quite beautiful, and everyone who knew her thought so. In high school, we drifted apart. She started wearing dark eyeliner and lipliner, something that wasn't the least bit flattering. She fell into a bad crowd, and I haven't seen her since graduation. I don't imagine she's doing very well, which really makes me sad.
The moral of that story? Most people are beautiful in their own way, and while makeup and clothes can accentuate the positive, natural beauty is a lot more appealing. The other moral, of course, is to buy clothes that can be mixed and matched with other clothes you already own. You'll be sure to win the bet then.
04-17-2002 8:17 AM - comments (0)
So you think you know me? Take this quiz and find out. If you fail, I'll stop being your friend.
04-16-2002 9:24 PM - comments (0)
i think i'm paranoid
The only thing I like about working out is when my 350 calories are burned and I step off the elliptical machine triumphantly. That moment usually fades when I realize there's an ungodly amount of sweat rolling off my neck and that I need to exit the gym as quickly as possible so as not to cause a scene.
Maybe it's just me, but do you ever get the feeling that minor problems--excessive sweating after exercising, umbrellas turning inside out during storms, hair blowing everywhere on windy days, panties riding up so they're visible from the back--only happen to you and everyone else is immune to such trivial catastrophes? Furthermore, at the gym it seems I'm the only one who actually needs to be there. Approximately one percent of the population there is: the incredibly overweight woman, methodically recording her workout in a notebook after five minutes on the exercise bike and looking as if she's going to die. I respect that, in that sort of "I feel sorry for her" way. But it's good that she's trying. Ninety-eight percent is: tan, attractive, skinny, buff, blond females and hard-bodied men. They don't sweat. I don't respect non-sweating. The other one percent is: of course, me.
Has America forgotten the middle region of women? The ones that aren't size zero but aren't size 18, either? And I'm not saying anything is wrong with those sizes (although depending on height, the former might be too thin and the other too obese). I'm just wondering why people like me are noticeably absent in gyms and the media. We're too thin to lose dozens of pounds and to be television success stories for Slim-Fast, but we're too big to fit into anything from most of Urban Outfitters, Wet Seal, Rampage and anything from Arden B. There needs to be a diet program designed for girls who just want to lose 10 pounds.
04-16-2002 7:07 PM - comments (0)
hello, bea arthur
I wish dieting weren't so complicated. I was doing well today--a Slim-Fast, salad and rice cakes--and then came dinner. I succumbed to my need for Italian and ordered a pizza. Granted, I only had two small pieces, but I still feel like I canceled out all the hard work I did (when you're on a diet, it does feel like work). Christie and I are working out tonight, which is a consolation. I wish I had Michael's metabolism--eat whatever you want (or not get hungry at all and forget to eat) and stay adorably thin.
I'm trying to come up with some ideas for the next magazine design project. The catch is that we have to illustrate a spread for one of two story ideas, and I can't draw. Or, as Michael puts it, my artistic ability ceased progressing at the age of eight. I think we can use photos, but we have to alter them in such a way that they become artwork. I want to use the story on spring break; it's about the Girls Gone Wild epidemic, and I think it would be really funny to somehow incorporate Bea Arthur ("Golden Girls Gone Wild") into the design. I know it seems irrelevant, but maybe I can make the point that on spring break, people are so drunk that anyone and everyone looks attractive. I don't know; I'm in the first stages of the design. And I can't get Bea Arthur out of my head.
Happy birthday, Cait.
04-16-2002 4:58 PM - comments (0)
how near, how far
I saw a weird image in my computer screen, and it scared me. It looked like a person with hair that went everywhere. And then I honestly realized it was my reflection, and that my hair is Bigfoot-like in the morning. Don't expect any pictures of that to appear on my site.
I know it's a little late to be jumping on the bandwagon, but I'm really getting into the Trail of Dead. If you haven't heard them, you'll definitely be surprised by the difference between their name and their music. It's really pretty stuff, but not the kind of spineless indie pop everyone seems to like now. Essex Green is the only spineless pop I can handle, thank you very much. Also, in related news, I really really really like the song "Butterflies" by...um...Michael Jackson. I think it's new, because I heard it playing in Hollister and there was one of those unnecessary rap solos added to it (courtesy of Lil' Kim). Anyway, it's one of those great songs that makes you feel spacey and wish you were making out with someone.
Also, Christie and I used to make fun of this guy on the bus in junior high for listening to Michael Jackson. Primarily because when we asked him one time what he was listening to, he replied "the Big MJ." I quietly debated whether or not he meant Michael Jordan, then convinced myself Jordan was too busy playing basketball to record an album. There's a definite reason the school bus hierearchy existed, and my placement was practically sealed for the duration of junior high.
Also, the comment Michael overheard (and subsequently posted about) was, alas, from me. I just thought I should solve the mystery as to who's the stupidest girl ever. That would be me.
04-16-2002 9:09 AM - comments (0)
In continuation of the Day of the Million Posts, here's one more. I just thought you'd like to know the year-end ouranophobe statistics (amount of hits):
Average per Day 21
Average Visit Length 0:50
Best Month: April 2002 (around 875 so far)
Worst Month: June 2001 (around 300)
The reason my average was so low was because I had like 10 people a day the first few months and almost none during the summer, when my Internet access was shady. It's getting much better.
On a personal note, I wanted to thank the many friends and strangers who continue to drop by ouranophobe and read what I have to say. I can be wordy, arrogant, weird, boring, mean, ridiculously happy, ridiculously sad, introspective, cryptic and melodramatic. But I like sharing my life with you, and in my own naive and/or presumptuous way, I believe people who come to my site can relate at least a little to what I say.
I have my severe ups and downs. When I was younger, I desperately tried to control my mood swings, so I would always appear happy. As ironic as it seems, that distorted happiness made me hate myself. We can't all be happy all of the time. We're far too complicated and interesting to see life from one narrow perspective, and by ignoring an entire spectrum of emotions, we end up selling ourselves short. That isn't to say I've had an easy time being open; the fact that my family and friends' parents read my site oftentimes serves as a subtle reminder that self-censorship can be both cruel and necessary. My entire life isn't splayed across the site--just the parts I've picked out for public consumption. So in some ways, you're getting a simplified version of me; I hope to continue adding pieces of myself until I feel like the girl I write about is, in every way, me.
To end, having an online journal (and getting responses nearly daily from readers) has forced me to be more thoughtful in all areas of my life, from how I treat people to learning to take myself and the world less seriously. I hope I haven't disappointed you with ouranophobe, and I always enjoy comments/criticism. So keep dropping by, and please keep telling me how I'm doing.
04-15-2002 9:30 PM - comments (0)
may i suggest...
I've gotten a few suggestions on how to properly avoid the Add Sheet people, ranging from proselytizing to wearing oven mitts and dropping the proffered pamphlet, then acting crazy and running away. Thanks to everyone for looking out for my sanity.
I haven't put my links up, but please check out these sites if you haven't: the Chris Hill Festival, ab9online, mass distraction, atarigirl, sleeping.waferbaby.com, jen's online journal, myaimistrue, we are robots.
They're all well-written, interesting, funny and/or artistic and deserve your time. And money.
04-15-2002 8:39 PM - comments (0)
edward gorey coffee mugs
I was a busy girl today. You thought that just because I skipped all of my classes today, I'd be in a ratty bathrobe, drinking lukewarm coffee from a chipped mug and watching Sally Jessy Raphael, or what I like to call the poor man's Jerry Springer. Instead, I was hunting down an apartment in Amarillo, using my sparse cell phone minutes (how I manage to go through 450 in two weeks is...entirely Michael's fault).
It turns out I can afford approximately $395/month; I used some rent calculator in the Amarillo Apartment Guide to get that magical number. Divide your salary by 12 (or multiply your weekly earnings by 4--I had to do this because I'm only working for the summer) and then multiply that by .28. Great thing to know, especially when every quote you get from a realtor tops that by at least $100/month.
I'm making nothing this summer--$325/week--and it especially stings because I was making about $500/week temping at ExxonMobil. Then again, I was working for The Man last summer. But at least The Man doesn't write timid editorials about homosexuality and doesn't have tons of readers writing letters to the editor, declaring their hatred for gays (at worst) and being so kind as to hate the sin, not the sinner (at best). That whole convoluted mess of a sentence simply refers to the rather conservative nature of the Globe-News and my trepidation about being a part of it. I just hope I don't get myself fired.
04-15-2002 4:39 PM - comments (0)
If you live in Columbia, you're familiar with the Add Sheet (yes, with two "d"s). This bright yellow advertising flier is every student's worst nightmare on Wednesdays, when Columbia's finest assortment of homeless people force it into our hands. What's shocking is the Add Sheet's newest claim; not only does it supposedly have the "highest penetration in the marketplace of any rack-distributed publication in the USA," but it's more than just market penetration--"everyone who picks it up had to go out of their way to get it, and has the strongest buying intentions of any print reader."
I suppose the person who penned that allegation hasn't seen the hordes of MU students who, having developed a personal strategy over the years, avoid the Add Sheet people like the plague. We're not always successful; it helps to hold an old copy or pretend to be fidgeting with a Discman starting at about 10 feet from the distributor. Success brings with it the sad realization that that was but one victory; there are many Wednesdays left to fight. If failure is imminent, we try to figure out which trash can is closest for easy disposal. If that means we have the "strongest buying intentions of any print reader," I'd hate to see an uninterested consumer.
04-15-2002 12:20 PM - comments (0)
gus says: h-h-h-h-happy anniversary!
It's official. Ouranophobe is a year old, and what better way to celebrate than by skipping all your classes, even if you woke up in time to go? You're right. Watching Family Feud reruns and consuming a massive bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats would be an even better way.
As you may have noticed, the scant amount of pictures I have on hand are now up, thanks to Michael. He's going to organize them and label them in a more pleasing (to me) fashion later today. For now, they're in directories according to theme. Just so you don't spend hours poring over them, here's a quick description of what they are:
image 16--me with my longish hair before the traumatic cut
image 20---the day of the haircut
images 21/22--me all girlied up for the zwan show
dance--my ex-boyfriend aaron and i glammed up for a high school homecoming
rachelyoung--for all the pedophiles, a picture of me at 2 . my nickname was pebbles, as in flintstone. stop laughing
christie--christie and a guy from her favorite band, remy zero
christieandersen--christie doing the sparkly feather boa thing
michael(12) shirtless--self-explanatory. i really need better file names.
michael 4--hiding his face in shame
my cat (elliott)
image 28--just waking up from a nap, extremely docile
image 29--awake, but still has that glazed "who are you?" look he so adores giving me
image 30--embarassing shot of him yawning. god, elliott, cover your mouth when you yawn
817-mid--some random photo of a cat i want
merv_cd--i did a report on him once in high school. my brilliant teacher never caught on that it was a joke. he's a fascinating guy, though
muffin--a comic michael drew. that's all it took to make me fall in love with him
billy (corgan, from the zwan show april 5)
they're all pretty good (the guy with the camera and i were very close to the stage). the super-clear ones are the ones he let me take because i was a little in front of him. the best one is probably billy3 or billycorgan1. and yes, i realize he's not the only one in zwan
I have more than one friend, a boyfriend, a cat and fond memories of Billy Corgan. I'd love it if everyone would send me cute, funny, etc. pictures of themselves or anything else (shows/concerts, artistic photography, random picture files) to post. Otherwise, I might have to dig through my photo albums and yearbooks, which goes without saying would be incredibly scary. Especially given my sheer desire and sufficient PhotoShop abilities to paint mustaches on anything I find.
04-15-2002 7:08 AM - comments (0)
every rose has its thorn
I am so thirsty for Coke right now that I could pass out. It doesn't help that my hands are sticky from gluestick (from production night at the Student News, people!). Funny story--last week at MU was Greek Week, and all of the houses buy ads in our paper. One pair of houses bought a half-page ad that said: "As every rose has its thorn, Gamma Phi Beta has Kappa Alpha." I'm guessing KA will be thrilled to learn that their sister sorority thinks so...highly...of them.
I'm sleepy but find it so irrational that I want to sleep (got plenty of it last night) that I am rebelling against my body by staying up late and thinking about things. Like how nice it is to get e-mails from people who read my site. I received helpful info from Jake about Tina Fey's scar (she got it in a car accident), a really sweet e-mail from Jeremy and a weird one, per usual, from Ryan, who asked succinctly, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH RACHEL. From his tone, I gather he doesn't actually read my site. With that in mind, I will rank him a 7.9 on an attractiveness scale from 1-10. Hey, he asked for it.
Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of ouranophobe.com. And yes, it will have taken that long to get pictures up. But up they will be on this sacred occasion. And on that rather poorly-worded last note, I will be studying my Associated Press Stylebook until I have memorized every last entry.
04-14-2002 10:45 PM - comments (0)
learning to adapt
No matter how many times I do it, taking a shower in someone else's house is always disconcerting. There's never the right amount of room to shave my legs (see my bloodied knees for proof), and the water is always just different enough from my own to spark up my neuroticism.
Michael is still asleep (might be due to the fact that he didn't actually go to bed until 4:30), so I'm going to use this time to be productive: blog, finish my history book, check my favorite websites (atarigirl is definitely becoming one of them--she's very cool but not pretentious; her boyfriend's site is also very interesting), pack and have breakfast. Somehow the idea of the nachos we had last night at Macaroni Grill sound appealing. I'm one of the few people I know who doesn't have the voice in the back of my head that says "DO NOT CONSUME LUNCH AND/OR DINNER FOOD IN THE MORNING. THAT'S DISGUSTING. STICK TO FRUIT AND CEREAL, YOU FREAK. NACHOS TOPPED WITH ASIAGO CHEESE, GREEN ONIONS, OLIVES, TOMATOES AND SAUSAGE DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT CONSTITUTE MORNING FOOD."
One last note--I'm curious as to why SNL writer and Weekend Update anchorwoman Tiny Fey has a huge scar on her left cheek. I never noticed it until last night's show (The Rock as host was really good; "singer" Andrew WK can crawl back under whatever rock and/or monster truck rally he came from). She's definitely one of the funniest people on the show, even if she doesn't do sketches. If anyone can satisfy my morbid curiosity, I'd appreciate it.
04-14-2002 9:36 AM - comments (0)
you're such a carnivorous brainiac
I love Outback's salad, so I convinced Michael to take me last night. We had the aformentioned salad (ranch dressing, cheese and croutons on top), a bloomin' onion and some peel-and-eat shrimp. The legs were still attached to the shrimp, and it scared the hell out of me. It was still better than in the Dominican, where the whole head was still attached, and if you wanted to eat the shrimp, you had to deal with the fact that its black, lifeless eyes were staring back at you. Sort of like when you're eating a hamburger.
That reminds me of the time Jen and I went to that cool/scary Mexican place in Houston whose menu boasted beef brains and guts tacos. I'm glad they were at least being honest. Actually, they had brains at thr Hy-Ho the other night. I wonder if the rest of the cow is going out of style.
04-13-2002 11:22 AM - comments (0)
I've been getting a lot of positive feedback from my picture on waferbaby.com. One neat e-mail came from another waferbaby guy, Jake, who is quite obviously a web-designer. He also reminds me of Ethan Embry (Empire Records, Can't Hardly Wait). His site is fabulous.
I have a million things to do before I leave for class and to see Michael! Aack! Shower, pack, bank, class, quiz, food, bye.
04-12-2002 9:26 AM - comments (0)
i always wanted to be a tenenbaum
I had an interesting week. It started out with my resignation from the Student News, the subsequent guilt-trip people gave me about staying, a trip to St. Louis with Kaity to see Bruce's band, asiaminor, play at the Rocketbar, and now my debate whether or not to read Regeneration (an uplifting book about World War I trauma) for a quiz tomorrow.
I really did have a fun time last night/today. Asiaminor is awesome--I'm not being biased when I say they're really going to get big soon. Shiner was also really good. I had a couple of vodka sours and some pretzels, so I was a happy girl. Kaity got hit on by the drummer from Schatzi--he kept trying to play with her hair. Later on, Bruce, Kaity, Tom (one of the asiaminor guitarists), his wife, Sasha, and I went to this stuck-in-1977 diner called the Hy-Ho. It was awesome--I had a really good conversation with Tom and Sasha about poetry and pickles. Two really disgusting older guys in the booth behind us kept making really gross comments about what they wanted to do to Kaity and me. I can understand maybe thinking those things, but saying them--and saying them loudly--is really beyond reproach. Plus it made me want to slash their tires.
Bruce's family is so cute--their house is adorable, immaculate and, well, homey. His mom is really hospitable and sweet--she left us little packages of Mary Kay stuff on the guest bed (she's a Mary Kay lady). Kaity and I were giggling in bed at 3:30 a.m. about how weirded out we get using toilets in other people's houses. We both worry about it overflowing, and somehow that fear led us to start cracking up at the image of Bruce's dad in yellow galoshes and gloves, wading through a flooded bathroom and trying to clean it up. I suppose everything is hilarious at that time in the morning. Michael also called me at 4 or so, and it was really nice. I sort of go crazy if I don't get to hear his voice at least once a day, and I kept stalling to keep him on the phone. I'm sure Kaity really liked hearing me being so sappy. I can't wait to visit him tomorrow.
This is a ridiculously long post, but I have to say one more thing. I adore the song "These Days" by Nico (it's on the Royal Tenenbaums soundtrack--it's playing during the brilliant part where Richie watches Margot get off the bus) and the subsequent K-Mart commercial that uses it. It makes me giddy in this perfect weather.
04-11-2002 7:52 PM - comments (0)
...she said with finality
Today I saw a car with various bumper stickers, including ones for the Peace Nook, vegetarianism and PETA. However, one bumper sticker on this car and one alone was enough to disprove the entire pacifist movement.
It read: "Blood for Oil."
I don't normally use such language, but...
IT WAS ON A FUCKING CAR.
04-11-2002 6:38 PM - comments (0)
i ain't a cowboy, but i sure am a stud
I will most likely be committing to memory the depressing poems of Hopkins and Hardy tomorrow morning for my British Literature test, so I'll post now while I have time. Melissa convinced me to go to her film class tonight and watch Midnight Cowboy. I'm still not sure if I liked it. It was inconsistent and I don't know why certain parts were added (the drugged-out party scene for one); I have a good feeling the director tinkered with the original screenplay to give it that added groovy 1960s feeling. The odd camera angles and randomly weird moments reminded me of the direction in The Graduate, but The Graduate was consistently like that. Plus Dustin Hoffman isn't sweaty and oily in The Graduate.
Besides one guy whose hair indicated he was living in 1985 ("Robert Smith from the Cure called. He wants his identity back"), there were a lot of those "I'm so hip and cute" people bunched up in a clique in her class. I wonder if those people realize that they're always going to be the social outcasts, and no amount of "good taste in music" (read: "I like bands you've never heard of"), cute rolled-up cuffs in their jeans and adorable, tight Goodwill/Salvation Army polo shirts is going to change that. I'm also really sick of tiny girls who all have that one look--see above. Dressing that way only makes you look 12, and your boyfriends are pedophiles who cry into their sweaters.
I was going to write something self-deprecating in this last paragraph, but after having read what I just wrote, I'm pretty sure I still mean it. Especially about the pedophile boyfriend stuff.
04-09-2002 11:05 PM - comments (0)
There's a cute guy in my magazine design class, and Sarah and I are always gawking at him. I gawk but in that "I have a boyfriend and more importantly, a boyfriend who reads my site and therefore about any gawking if I mention it" way, but Sarah practically drools. He's incredibly slacker-ish, I think. Consider the evidence: his hair is that streaked blond that was so popular for guys a couple of years ago; he shows up to class late; he sleeps during class; he has a Ben Harper t-shirt. That last piece of evidence is probably the most damning.
Here's the deal. Sarah probably shouldn't date him, even if he's a slacker. When he does decide to come to class or open lab, he just plays Internet pool. As in the not-real, very-weird online billiards game. Sarah saw him in the Missourian office one time, and he was playing Internet pool again. One time we had a project due, and he came in to play Internet pool even though the deadline was a week later. He must have some sick hybrid of an addiction to the journalism school computers and online pool.
04-09-2002 3:02 PM - comments (0)
a new thought
I need a break from everyone and everything. I have too much guilt in my life, too many ties to things that make me unhappy. Those ties are keeping me from spending time and energy on the things that matter to me.
I sometimes wish I could live an isolated life, interacting with only a handful of people and living a life that makes sense to me; a life I get prior approval of. It would be a very small life in a very small place and it would be simple.
That's pretty much it. I want to be simple and I never have been before. I wonder how one goes about sharpening her life down to the bare minimum without having to deal with the messy, unwanted leftover pieces.
04-09-2002 9:25 AM - comments (0)
if my uncle could only see me now
I never thought it would be possible to understand the origins and implications 1980s debt crisis and be able to write a well-constructed essay on them. My political science class has been very, very good to me.
Strange but true: I love the smell and overall feel of Noxzema. Washing my face with it is my favorite part of the morning. I also really like Hall and Oates' "Rich Girl" playing softly in the background, reminding me that I've gone too far and I know it don't matter anyway. I can rely on the old man's money.
04-08-2002 8:05 AM - comments (0)
the bee with the little eyes
Today is about as insane as a day can get, so I won't say much. Zwan was incredible; Michael and I were two people away from the stage, and Billy Corgan honestly smiled at me. Of course, he chose the girl who threw flowerson stage to bring backstage with him, but I couldn't really be the kind of groupie he wants (Michael has a problem with me fooling around with rock stars. Someday I'll have an understanding boyfriend).
I liked yesterday. Christie and I took our "little brother" to the free showing of Shrek. He kept acting like he didn't want to be there, but once he sat down, he was excited. He's so great. Later on, Michael and I just hung out and watched birds outside. We went to Sophia's for dinner, and it was about as nice as a date can get. Chase, Kaity, Sarah and I went to Grille One 5 for drinks afterward (I left Michael to AIM conversations and drawing gloompuppy at home), and I proceeded to enjoy one Long Island ice tea too many. It didn't really hit me until I got in Michael's car. I really hate the feeling of knowing you could have had a little less and been fine. I need to figure out my limit and stick to it.
Today is bad: Student News production day (aptly, our bar issue) and a poli sci essay/study group later. I can't reach half the members of the group, so I'm starting to get worried. The more people, the better; my new work ethic is not comfortable with added responsibility.
04-07-2002 9:47 AM - comments (0)
cleanliness is godliness
The Jehovah's Witnesses came back for me today. I must have been acting interested when they came by the first time last week, but I was just trying to be polite. Frankly, they creep me out a little. The literature they gave me dealt with cleanliness and how Jehovah's children should be extremely clean at all times. I guess I never really thought much about that aspect of religion. By saying that their God would want you to be clean, the Jehovah's Witnesses are actually doing a great service for humanity. I just hope they start suggesting that guys who wear cologne get into heaven more easily. That would be a wonderful social movement.
Well, the Zwan freaks are all telling me to get to the show now. Supposedly people camped out last night (!) I'm a Billy Corgan fan, but that's a little excessive. The venue isn't allowing cameras, which deservedly gets a big thumbs-down. I want a picture of the band and me. Argh. Maybe I'll hide a camera in the bushes outside.
Chase just told me that our publisher, Dan, is the ruler of the universe. Dan's an interesting guy. When I make the grave mistake of calling a fraternity a "frat," he says "Don't say that. Would you call your country a cunt?"
You really really have to hate the idea of fraternities, don't you?
04-05-2002 1:13 PM - comments (0)
who wouldn't be the one you love?
It feels like I've been doing a lot recently, so I'll go ahead and give you the oh-so-famous list I post every now and then:
Worked out insanely; consumed more water than should be allowed by law; ate first banana in years that didn't make me want to throw up; in magazine design class, somehow compared subjects in a photo essay to vampires; checked on proofs of upcoming Student News issue; apologized profusely to publishers for having named new Quark colors "cat vomit orange," "blood red," "royal purple bitch," and "puke green"; had salami and cheese sandwich and one fortune cookie; learned how to say "what is your last name?" in Chinese; finally got rent check in mail; finally got vacation pictures Dad sent up; realized it's not that I'm not photogenic, just horribly unattractive; tried to take nap but ultimately was unsuccessful; failure due to Flock of Seagulls' "I Ran" playing over and over in head; went to mall and oohed and ahhed over many things; purchased sexy new Victoria's Secret lotions and shower gel and some stuff from Gap; nearly passed out in Express while looking at my new hair in the three-way mirror; near-passing out due to excessive intake of Metabolife pills; had piece of cheese pizza from Sbarro that didn't actually have any cheese on it; talked about sex with roommates; realized that it's incredibly difficult to have such discussions; began to really hate society for creating unnecessary hangups.
Tomorrow: ZWAN. I will meet Billy Corgan. And it will be incredible. And I need to stop with the impossibly high standards.
04-04-2002 8:23 PM - comments (0)
the state of imperfection
I am getting really sick of the blurry line between advertising and journalism in the Student News. It's enough to make me wonder if I want to assume the role of editor in chief next semester. The worst thing is, no one on staff with any authority seems to share my beliefs. The fact of the matter is, you cannot and should not run advertising within copy. Under it, next to it, on top of it; that's fine. Not within a story. And I do understand the relationship between journalism and advertising; the former depends entirely on the latter for its existence. But when a paper is more concerned with the latter, it seems to me that there's no point in publishing.
On an entirely different note, I was checking my makeup in the bathroom yesterday before class. Next to me was one of those naturally beautiful girls--the kind that don't need to overapply anything, the kind that wake up in the morning with that annoying healthy glow. I started feeling bad about my eyeliner and matte lipstick. I guess I'm not that jealous of the bleached-blond, tanned girls that go to my school--all I need is some surgery, time at the tanning salon and a good hairstylist to achieve what 35% of the campus has. But the girls who look good without that stuff are the girls I envy. I was playing this whole thing out in my head when I noticed the girl was still staring in the mirror, applying layer after layer of lipgloss and studying herself intently. It's rotten, but maybe no one feels that great about themselves.
04-04-2002 10:06 AM - comments (0)
pretty when you're faithful
Well, the hair is definitely different. I'll post before and after pictures this weekend and I'll let you decide.
I am in no way attempting to make Michael jealous, for, say, having done so to me earlier this week. But the truth is, I've got four e-mails to write to four different boys right now, and they deserve my full attention. So I'll write something more substantial tonight...when the elicit e-mail returning is finished.
04-03-2002 4:05 PM - comments (0)
i don't do too much talking these days
Yesterday was Day from Hell, so please forgive me for not having posted. Someone once told me that working out in the morning gave you energy and made you feel alive all day. Someone tell that to 8 p.m. Rachel, who became dizzy while staring at a Quark screen and wanted to pass out.
I know I've made this seemingly empty promise a dozen times, but I will put up pictures, writing, etc. this weekend. I have them; I'm just waiting for Michael to help me with the design and logistics of it all.
I am: going to take a hot shower, shave my legs, cover myself in Victoria's Secret goodness and dammit, it's going to be a good day. (And then she remembers: the haircut scheduled at 2:15). Well, let's make a compromise. It might be a good day.
04-03-2002 7:20 AM - comments (0)
floating miles high
Today was an incredibly good pheromone day. I was reading in Vogue about this perfume that supposedly contains magical pheromones that make you feel sexy and confident. I really want to see if it works, because good pheromone days are highly desirable. No pun intended.
Evidence: felt vibrant in the morning, practically pranced to political science, asked thoughtful questions during classes, received perfect score on Brit Lit test (the one I took home and did!), and didn't gorge on contents of Easter basket mother sent, but instead very low-cal fortune cookies.
Counterevidence: during aforementioned Brit Lit class, answered question on Hopkins poem so horribly wrong that blushed for the first time in years. Actually felt face heat up and became embarassed about being embarassed. Need to investigate brands of makeup that conceal shame. Maybe Clinique?
Well, not every day can be perfect. And for that matter, neither can this weblog. I can't actually write about the things that affect me the most because the people those things are about read it daily. So you never get to hear how someone is driving me crazy or whining too much or making me angry. You just hear about my wildly good pheromones.
To be fair, I did get into an argument with Michael on Friday, but he was being so wonderful afterwards that I forgot to be mad. I hate when I can't stay mad at him; it feels like I got all worked up for nothing. A lot of people I know will actually argue back, which is much more conducive to my nature. Michael just tells me he's sorry and that I'm right and that he'll make it up to me.
I never thought having a perfect boyfriend could be so frustrating.
04-01-2002 7:47 PM - comments (0)