friskin

Among the filthiest, cheapest, flimsiest, and least attractive pre-Halloween costumes ever?

A couple of TRASHY WHORES. Ha ha ha ha, get it?

The idea grew out of a frustration with all the sexy cowgirl/girlscout/random storybook character costumes running around. Two great big old frumpy bags full of garbage never looked or smelled so good.

Elvis the Robotic Flying Three-Toed Sloth-Clops, mid-fall.

Re: "Hey, I want my Jesus back. He is the light of my world, and since our friendship has deteriorated, I think it's fair that I take the light back to keep for myself."

Dear ANONYMOUS,
1. I was under the impression that Jesus was given to me years ago as a birthday present.
2. His new home is in Wisconsin. If you want him that badly, you'll have to come and get him.
3. If your friendships are deteriorating, I think you have some bigger issues to worry about.
4. Glad to hear you're doing well.
5. Fair is fowl and fowl is fair? Cluck cluck cluck.
6. Don't be a chicken, please sign your name if we are or were ever friends.
Love and kisses always,
BECKY

My misadventures continue... A beautiful specimin of manhood agreed to help me put together my bike, which has been sitting for two weeks in a box in the mail room. He asked me to pay him twenty dollars because the store downtown charges twenty-five. I was a little taken aback by the request, but agreed without putting up a fight or even showing any sign of resistance. I couldn't have done it alone, though, and I really do admire the guy for having the tools and the skillz (with a Z) to complete the task. He showed up to our 11:00 am rendezvous (fashionably late, which was right in line with the rest of his equally fashionable character). We got to package and hauled it into the Java Joint, cleared a space, fished all of the pieces out of a sea of...cringe...packing peanuts, and he got to work. When he was attaching the second to last piece, I decided it was probably safe to take the box out back and throw it in the dumpster. Was it safe, friends? No no no. A few minutes later, at 11:45, our conversation went something like this

Helpful Man-Friend: Hey, Becky, did you already get rid of that box?
Becky: Yeah, why?
HMF: Well, I'm missing a screw and I think it fell out while....
Becky: I'll be right back.

And yes, I went out side. I evaluated the situation. The box was lying near the bottom of a five foot tall dumpster, on top of a few bags of garbage. I shook my head and sighed and I couldn't believe my lot in life. I found an angle where I could kind of hang onto the side with a foot and a hand and reach down and grab the damn thing. Mid-grab, along came who would turn out to be my gardian angel: a woman, probably from one of the offices upstairs, who was outside for a cigarette break.

Long story short, we conquered the sea of packing peanuts... cringe... and found the tiny little screw! Triumphant music played as I held it up in the air and shouted, "YES! YES! YEEEEEES!"

I rode my bike to class not five minutes late. I rode my bike on the sidewalk, wobbling this way and that on tires that are in need of some air. It doesn't do well on even the smalles of inclines, and I'm pretty sure the gears are fucked beyond repair. I saw my friends walking toward me and I gleefully exclaimed, "I got a bike!" and they laughed and I laughed and there was laughing all around.

The End.

Now, on to the next...

The highlights of my day were (respectively) falling down the stairs at 11:45 am, limping outside only to find a photographer man aiming a giant camera at me, and (consequently) (involuntarily) having my picture taken while groaning and nursing my wounded back. And I liked telling this story to Emma later as she tried to hide from the very same photographer man.

This is the face of Beloit College.

Oh! Oh! And I saw the tiniest little baby squirrel. Yeah, you know how I am with babies. It was intense.

And! And! And speaking of cute, S and I are going to write a theme song about Little Byron (or By-RONE) and then make a music video, which is going to be fucking amazing.

The Week of Gratuitous Consumption continues. I took pictures today with my piece-of-junk-but-kind-of-cool-looking plastic camera. Here are my favorites:





Over the summer I had noticed a sign down the road from this field that says "GEESE." I would always chuckle to myself, "Huh huh huh, geese. Whatev." Well, friends, it wasn't just geese. It was GEESE.

I can't tell if this is me being stubborn and moody or what. A couple days ago, mom offered to take me out to lunch this afternoon. I went to DMS to observe in the morning and came back to an empty house. There was a note on the counter saying, "We'll be back around 11:30-12," and a message on the answering machine saying "Nevermind." What? My parents went on vacation without me fewer than twelve hours after I got off the plane, which was totally fine with me. Something about cancelling existing plans, though, has never, ever sat right with me. I guess I do it to people often enough. I tell myself that it's different. That is me being stupid and unreliable. This is my parents not feeling like waiting thirty minutes to eat. I could tell that they felt really bad about it when they asked if I was mad and I shrugged and gave them the brilliant teenager response, "Whatever." I guess I didn't show that much enthusiasm about the idea from the beginning.. I said I'd been eating out a lot lately, and was (literally) sick of restaurant food. So maybe I deserved it? Since they got back, mom has made several offers of taking me out here and there, dad has tried to take music and movies with me, and both have been greeted with negative success.

I take passive aggressiveness to a whole new level, bitchez.

I'm wearing grey nylon socks that make me feet and ankles look dead. The thought of dying angry brings tears to my eyes.

Anyhow, tomorrow is happy, happy fun escape time in B-ton, Vermontland.

D and C lve in domestic bliss in a shabby old apartment above the Troy Vision Center. The fuses blow when more than one appliance is running, so they either light candles or timidly knock on the neighbor down the hall's door and ask him to switch the power back on. They entertain guests with games and stories and sometimes dancing, and discuss what a good job their little space heater is doing. They entertain the thought of one of these days washing the dishes that have now overflown from the sink onto the kitchen floor. At four o'clock AM they get up to do their paper route. One person bags and rubber bands, and the other one drives the car. They play gigs at fifty bucks a pop (if they're lucky) and generally seem pleased with being alive.

And me? I'm happy to be a little part of it. I also am envious. It kind of seemed like they were playing house. Aren't they so young?... And yet, if I could, I would probably defintely take that arrangment over living in a little boxy room with a little twin bed and a little desk for homework. I have to keep telling myself, there will be time for everything.

I want to remember this: Having a late breakfast on Sunday with S at Denny's. We sat at the counter. He had coffee and I had orange juice. Cute. An old, old man whose job was apparently to wear an apron and walk around saying crazy, pointedly friendly, and certainly harmless things to the customers, decided it was my turn to be picked on. He was fascinated by my piercing. He said I looked like I was growing horns, like the devil. Something along the lines of....
"You bedda watch OUT! You gonna try ta kiss her and she gonna GETCHA!..... Ohh, I'm scared a' you!"
So I'll probably take it out sooner than later. I hate to frighten old people, even if they are totally nutso.

Ah, my secret life. Oh, my semi-secret desires: I want wooden hair, I want a body and a face with tiger's eyes. I want candles burning through the night. Fame?

skye yes 681 (10:21:20 PM): do you get recognized as a celebrity now?
Nodal Nim (10:21:29 PM): No way.
skye yes 681 (10:21:41 PM): why not????
Nodal Nim (10:21:51 PM): I don't know!! WTF?!
skye yes 681 (10:21:56 PM): ?!?!?!?!?
Nodal Nim (10:22:06 PM): !!!?POOP!!
skye yes 681 (10:22:14 PM): eww...
Nodal Nim (10:22:28 PM): It was a statement, not an action.
skye yes 681 (10:22:35 PM): ooohhhhh
Nodal Nim (10:22:35 PM): Not pooping has taken place.
skye yes 681 (10:22:38 PM): okay then
skye yes 681 (10:22:41 PM): thanks
Nodal Nim (10:22:44 PM): You're welcome.
Nodal Nim (10:22:52 PM): I didn't want you to get the wrong impression about things.

This is some of the best news I've gotten all year! :

To: dewingr@stu.beloit.edu, pierrea@stu.beloit.edu
Subject: portfolio ressurections

I was mistaken!

Both of your portfolios appear to be among the few that escaped the
deluge! Come by any time you want to pick them up.

Scott


So I have one less reason to be bitter and disillusional. Deluginal? Ha ha ha. Make that two.

My skull keychain started mysteriously glowing again. For the first time, probably, since I bought it at the Dollar Tree in Troy Plaza four years ago. Go figure.

From behind my crooked blinds I am watching one of our mutant racoons waddle across the parking lot. Blame it on feng shui or whatever you want, but I am having a hell of a time keeping my life balanced. So I say, good riddance to bad fucking rubbish. My room/brain/heart/throat is filled to capacity with meaningless dreck. I'm going home in three days, and by the time I come back I want this mess cleaned up.

If anyone at home (i.e. Andrew) wants to get together, you know the number. There is much to be sayed.

And now I have my entire Philosophy of Education to compose and compress into four pages.

It's been a strange day. My alarm woke me up at 11:30 p.m. and I got redressed. We piled into Matt's big boat of a red crushed velvet stud mobile. I felt lucky. We watched the movie with our feet up and he held my hand during the scary parts. The plot was full of gaping holes, partially because we sat in the wrong theater for a long time and thus missed the beginning. I felt happy.

Earlier in the evening I was privvy to the most exciting secret plans I've ever passed up, and when we trade stories in the morning they will have every reason to be frustrated with me, and I will have every reason to feel like a fool.

I got an e-mail from my mom, which is in itself a rare treat. She capitalized all of the letters. It's so intense. ESPECIALLY THE PART WHEN SHE SAYS, "YOUR DAD AND I HAVE BEEN VERY BUSY THIS PAST WEEK TRYING TO GET SOME HOUSE PROJECTS DONE. WE HAD A TREE REMOVED AND TWO TRIMED. WE ALSO SIGNED A CONTRACT TO GET THE HOUSE
SIDED WHICH PROBABLY WON'T HAPPPEN TIL AROUND CHRISTMAS TIME."

During my radio show, J. came in and we had a sweet little chat. Chat is a light word. It was insight into what it means to be a student here, and it was hopes and fears about the future. I didn't say much. I listened and I wanted to suggest that we become better friends. I mostly want to suggest that to anyone who will look me in the eye, so what does that tell us?

I was paid to work on my paper for two hours, and I'm even more convinced than ever that I have found the number one best job on campus.

And on my way to class I saw two things:
1.They put down sod and grass in a square on Emerson Street. ON the street, and they taped it off, and put a podeum there. My professor for the class I was walking to greeted me, going the opposite direction and laughed, "Do you think it'll take?" (Apparently, for the ground breaking ceremony later in the afternoon, they put fake asphalt ON the grass that was on the street so that the important people could "break" it with gold-plated shovels and pick axes.)
2. A jet-black helicopter in the middle of Pearsons quad. Yeah, maybe it crushed a few students. Maybe. But DEFINITELY no one mistook the status symbol. Not even the slightly lesser trustees. At 1:00pm, we gathered around to watch it lift off and buzz away.