friskin

Apparently there is a typo in the course schedule for Fall 2005. "LING200 The English Language," should be "LING100 Introduction to Linguistics," and this makes me absurdly happy. I laughed at the table with my mouth open and sneezed many times at the Tempe w/ Vegetable Mush. Some day are like this.

Awesome: Wish Dreamer.

REJECTED.

FUCK.

Reflections on a dead rat: I could be this. Pumped full of latex and formadlehyde.This could be me, with a lungs and a liver and a fluid filled body cavity. Eyes open, mouth closed. What clings to me and makes me ill for days is not the scent of death, but the ugly, yellowed scent of preservation. It gets in my hair and under my skin. I am reminded of all the words I've hated but tried to keep, and everything I have inside me and can't let go. Crunching through bone in search of some kind of ancestral heart, I wonder what she must have done to deserve such a fate, and I wonder if my own dreams could serve a better purpose if turned entirely inside out.

If there was ever a perfect night to take a walk, this must be it.

(I will not be won in a day.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD.

I wrote a poem tonight. I know, the technique and subject and irony are all totally cliche, but I really, really wanted to do an acrostic for old time's sake. And then I fugured, why not write it about my two current favorite addictions? Will refine later. For now:

Perhaps knowing what I'm about to say leaves you less inclined to hear:
It's true, I like you best alone in the dark, humming and stroking,
Never remembering how we let it drop, despite the heat...
But I do recall well each swelling bump and jolt I felt,
And a vague sense of accomplishment, or wave of fear,
Like the place I should rather be,
Like the echo of a bell.


Noticed before I hit "publish" that lines were almost all decreasing in number of syllables by one, so I cleaned it up a bit. Left the last two shorter 'cause I like them that way.

There are fuck lots of empty alcohol bottles lying around, and no people. Good thing I didn't get my hopes up tonight.

GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKER! WORST MORNING EVER. My bookshelf decided that two minutes before my 8 o'clock class was an excellent time to EXPLODE and dump all of my books all over the floor in such a manner that if there just so happened to be a fire in my building at that moment (Think of the irony, friends. It could happen!), I would be hopelessly trapped and burn to death in my big mess of books and tears. This just goes to serve as an example of the high quality facilities we have here. I'm really tempted to throw the damned thing out into the quad and call it my "installation art."

And THEN I finally got outside and it was SNOWING.

Happy no-Good, very bad Friday, everyone.

(I'm actually not mad about it any more. I ran [literally] into Isaac on my way to class and he gave me the biggest hug I've had in ages, and somehow I felt a million times better. And it turned out to be really easy to fix my bookshelf when I got around to it. Yay, weekend!)

(And my radio show last night was super fun!)

(Profanity + love =David Rees.)

Broken intenet = broken heart.

Not really. I hope I'm not quite that pathetic yet. More like perplexed about how these developments came about.

I had more crazy dreams last night and this morning while I was supposed to be at class. I dreamed about my mom and church, surgery, curtains, crying to the man in the last pew. An escaped convict coming home to find me watching movies in his bedroom. Escape.

I've been thinking a lot lately about this "right-to-life" and "right-to-death" issue. Nature? Natural rights? I don't know if I could remove my lover's feeding tube, but I can't really say that I'd want mine left in. Interesting, especially when juxtaposed with the newest school shooting tragedy.

Knock on wood, pinball wizard.

(Forfuturereference:Showandtelltalentshow/presentation?)

You are Bastian! Usually you find yourself alone,
but when people pay you attention, watch out!
You can go from loner to control freak very
quickly. Maybe what you really need is love.


What NeverEnding Story character are you?

To be known as an epithet, or nothing at all.

I'm pretty sure I found a reference to myself ("some random girl...") in this guy's online diary. In reference to last night's behavior (after Mexican birthday, Jason Andreson, Voodoo, WC and before bed time).

Ha ha ha ha. Little does he know! It won't happen again any time soon, so don't you worry. From now on, I'm going to tie myself down (since apparently no one else can be bothered to do it for me) and stop thinking and get some work done!

Speaking of being tied down, I had the most fucked up dream this afternoon during my nap. I think it has something to do with thinking about joining a sorority and choosing a major and all that. There was a girl I know from phys plant and we were fighting, both mentally and physically. I don't remember a lot of what happened because I was dumb and didn't write it down right away, but I know that toward the end I took someone's shoelaces and tied her hands and then her feet. For some reason she gave in and willingly let me do this. She was laughing as I climbed on top of her. Girls standing around watching were laughing too. The whole "game" seemed to reset and we got up and weren't fighting anymore. Everyone was suddenly kind to me. I felt like I won, but then a new character came in, dark and menacing and totally hot in that really sinister Phantom kind of way, and when he spoke it was music, but the music was so harsh. He came close and told me that I am, in fact, joining them.

My alarm woke me up mid-phrase, and all I wanted to do was to go back there and hear the rest of what he had to say and to let him keep me there. I guess I was kind of in a weird mood.

Speaking of majors, I declared with the Education department today. I'm not unceratin or insecure, so why does this make me feel like banging my head against the wall? Have I made the wrong decision? Steve pointed out to me that I talked about doublemajoringplusaminor and droppingoutofcollegealltogether in the same conversation, within a five minute interval. So I guess that's where I'm at.

How ever it all turns out, I'm sure it will be okay.

I've once more barely survived the Ides of March.

I don't claim to know what is true.

O, happy day!

I've been spending a good amount of time lately thinking about darling brilliant brain child for Film Festival, or possibly just fun. Children? Basically:

Concept 1- Artsy, avant garde, dada, etc. b/w short freaturing E. staring creepily and feeding squirrels. Cut to representative doll and puppet squirrel. Cut back to E. And so on, intersperced with perplexing images of ticking clocks, waves crashing on the shore, etc.

Concept 2- Women actors dressed as men. Moustaches. Music.

Concept 2.5- Ideally massive scale Beloit Newsies. Much dancing i.e. jumping and spinning and jumping and spinning at the same time. Much drag, esp. pink velour caps that will be willingly donated because they went out of style, like, last month.

Concept 3- Soviet Sports Machine documentary w/ coming-of-age story, featuring end scene of Mighty Ducks scoring winning goal.

Concept 4- Food games at Commons.

It's about time.

You'll never guess who I met tonight!

Give up?

Bill Nye.

The Hotter Than Hell in a Bow Tie Science Guy.

And by "met" I mean listened to his two hour long "sold out" (persistent little thing am I..) lecture at SCCC and then lurked around until everyone else left so I could shake his hand and squeak out some words and all of a sudden I was a blushing, giggling, wobbly kneed, ten-year-old ball of awkwardness again.

I must admit, after all these years I still have a bit of a crush.

After grumbling about "why did I do that? why??" in my car for while, I set off. I spent forty five minutes driving in the exact OPPOSITE direction of my home, wondering all the while why everything looked different in the dark and why it seemed like miles since the last sign or street light. Why??? Because I was in the middle of nowhere! I didn't think it was possible, but it was. Oh, yes. For a few minutes I was indeed totally, utterly lost. I considered driving off the road into a ditch and trying again in the morning. And then I grumbled some more as I tried to find relatively un-sketchy place to turn around.

(On the tube: Yaqi? International tickler? This guy is awesome in a really gross, weird way.)

Went looking for the Albany Farmer's Market earlier today. I didn't find it, but I did make a new friend. I know pretty much everything about him... except his name. Pity.

Have listened to this song fifty million times today:

I am thinking it's a sign
that the freckles in our eyes
are mirror images and
when we kiss they're perfectly aligned.
And I have to speculate
that God himself did make us into
corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces
from the clay.
True, it may seem like a stretch,
but it's thoughts like this
that catch my troubled head
when you're away, when I am missing you to death.
When you are out there on the road
for several weeks of shows,
and when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home.
They will see us waving from such great heights.
"Come down now," they'll say.
But everything looks perfect from far away.
"Come down now," but we'll stay.
I've tried my best to leave
this all on your machine,
but the persistent beat
sounded thin upon listening.
And that frankly will not fly,
you will hear the shrillest highs
and lowest lows with the windows down
when this is guiding you home.
They will see us waving from such great heights.
"Come down now," they'll say.
But everything looks perfect from far away.
"Come down now," but we'll stay...

As performed by Iron & Wine.

...

Have a few leads on some summer jobs, thanks to internet and FACS. Refuse to settle for a boring, ordinary life (possible downfall?) (!), and so continue to make everything more work than it could possibly ever need to be. Like that sentence for example. Will send out finished resumes by Friday.

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig. The cancer came and went like a flash. I can't say I'm sorry to have missed the fear and anguish and morphine induced haze. Even now, looking at the aftermath is almost too hard for me. I don't recognize this place. Spring has sprung in the living room. Everyone is feeling their mortality.

But we are alive. Is that enough to be thankful for?

Dad and the cat have officially bonded.

....

Yeah, so, the past week. Yeah. I don't know why I hold my secrets like tiny treasures. In this beautiful world, why are we so lonely?

I need a hug times infinity.