Evorevo.

Life is a mystery.



George the Navigator, John the Praiser of George, Andrew the Villain, and I went on a three state adventure to see my all time number one favorite animistic furries rock out at a nature-themed gallery opening. I wrestled the Wolf and won, of course. It was thrilling.

We got lost for a while but eventually found a road that would lead us home. I didn't sleep until the sun was almost rising. How is that for summer vacation?

Home alone and lonely.

Post post-breakup breakup. White chocholate moussecake. Messy messy messes.

These things are getting me dowwwn.

Tonight I will drink my parents' expensive beer and snuggle with my big lazy cracked out dog. I think she knows how I feel, but she looks happy anyway.

Gross day.

I dreamed an apology. It's not going to happen. No matter how sorry my subconscious is for the impulsive things I do and say, in waking life I am as stubborn and stupid as ever.

I have to go to the doctor in fifteen minutes. I haaate that. But I guess it's alright because I don't have a copay as long as I'm not twenty yet.

Some women like shoes...

I have a huge, cheap, plastic sunglasses fetish. The fact that I could not resist buying four pairs today finally made me come to terms with my little "problem." When I saw that they were on sale for less than three dollars each, my heart started beating a little faster and I think a drop of sweat wetted my brow. They are glorious shiny smudged with fingerprints manufactured in China works of art. I flip my hair as I make kissy faces at my bug-eyed self in a handmirror. In one pair I am a glamorous undercover detective employing the powers of seduction to find the missing clue before the killer can strike again. In another, I am an anxous Hollywood starlet waiting at a cafe for her married politician lover to arrive at their twelve o'clock rendez-vous.

What can I do? Why does any person need THIRTEEN pairs of huge, cheap, plastic sunglasses? What VOID in my life are they filling? Am I depressed or repressing some primal urge? Am I hiding a deep, dark secret? These questions are endless and maddening!

There, I just threw one away. Twelve is a better number. I feel better.

I wish it was sunny now and time to go for a drive.

Kwiz.

The Internet Tells Me What To Think.

You are dreamy, peaceful, and young at heart. Optimistic and caring, you tend to see the best in people. You tend to be always smiling - and making others smile. You are shy and intelligent... and a very hard worker. You're also funny, but many people don't see your funny side. Your subtle dry humor leaves your close friends in stitches.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Brrr.

My feet are like ice cubes! Why is it May and so cold?

What have I done?

As of today, I have been here for two weeks. I am teetering on the edge of self-destruction. I saw a tiny, frightened hedgehog's body crushed under the wheels of a speeding car. I swerved to avoid adding insult to injury, even though there was no doubt in my mind that it was already dead. The incident was not remarkable in any way, but apparently worth noting because I can't seem to forget that image. This means an early bedtime tonight and probably crazy dreams too.

My parents are going to San Francisco on Saturday and leaving me to dogsit for a few days. I'm sure you are old enough to figure out the tremendously complex implications of the situation.

Johnny R. (And the lesser of all evils).

Discovered the "refill" option at Grindland and drank too much coffee after two hours of watching goddamn adorable little ones place themselves in precarious positions. On a few occasions I had to resist my uptight-grown-up urge to grab and shuffle them out of harm's way. Yeah, I have that. Sometimes. Cool things are happening at the Free School, things that make me wonder about the importance of structure and rules. Social sanctioning seems to be unavoidable. John and I took a post-caffine walk around downtown Troy. He photographed the Pork Store, I pointed out the best places for pizza and senior proms.

I so enjoy making new friends so so so and especially the ones who will like me back. Not so much the other kind.

In more cryptic news: Sunday. Yeah. You know, you know.

I love to make the good girlies wonder.

Oh, my stars.

Today was spent in a room full of strangers. Shy in the morning, we grew to quietly love eachother by mid-afternoon. I wanted to snuggle up with the ones who smiled at me when I turned my face from the fake blood on the screen and the ones who made jokes when there were a dozen naked, partially decapitated plastic mannequins of various sizes strewn all over the floor. I liked the two yoga instructors, I couldn't figure out if they were relatives or lovers until I realized that they are probably just cosmically connected. I liked my partner for learning abdominal thrusts. She had beautiful dark features and dread locks, and we found eachother because, I think, neither of us wanted to be stuck being groped by one of the old men. I really wish I hadn't zoned through the teacher's introduction; she might even have been my favorite of all. Thanks to her, I now know how to create a sling for your busted up arm, and how to stop your heart from fribulating. If you are a naked, partially decapitated plastic mannequin, I can also breathe into your mouth twelve times per minute.

I had a two hour break in the middle of the day because I wasn't learning about infant and child CPR. Chances of me becoming a hometown hero may be slightly lessened by the absence, but amazing things happened as I wandered around looking for ways to kill time (or perhaps to keep time's blood circulating until paramedics arrived). I found Hudson's business district by driving around for a while. The rest of the town, from what I could tell, was rather shabby, but one street has some really swank boutiques and antique stores all lined up, maybe waiting for the rich city cats. Apparently everyone in town has a Classical statue fetish. I saw them, beautifully chisled (or molded), in nearly every shop window, and I wondered a little where and why they all came from. Alien invasion, probably.

And so, I ducked into a store that looked like it would make me feel less totally out of place and found the most unexpected friend-of-friends man. He has long hair and grey beard and pink sparkley sweater. He mystifies. He astonishes. He informed me of a concert in Troy tonight that turned out to be just just just what I needed after I got lost for a really long time.

I got home and watched Elimidate and wondered if Russell Jaffe was watching it too. Made a note: my calf is cramped for the third day in a row. What up with that?

I can't believe I'm still awake and still thinking about when I'm going to visit my new pal. I have those lately, and it feels prettty good. I need sleep now, because that is something I haven't had.

Andrew should stop picking on me.

The days are slow, but still go fast. My schedule is filling up with plays and rock concerts, parties, open microphones, and sundry required appointments for job and Denmark stuff. I attended the first of two cyber-trainings tonight, and feel a bit less nervous than I did earlier today as I was reading the bazillion pages of curriculum. I will be a fun and creative and enthusiastic instructor. I tell myself this. And besides, as we all know, making mistakes is one of my favorite things to do.

Tomorrow is lunch with Brucey-boy at our favorite old haunt and then Face's sweet eighteen birfday party. Yay!

A word to whomever at Blogger is responsible for destroying my perfect journal entry:

Fuckoff.

That comment deserves a public response.

Let's get this straight.

Monkeys = gross and scary.


Kittens = cute and wonderful.


Give me a movie with Kinsky on a dock with thousands of teeming kittens in South America and I will be happy. Or better yet with Partick Wilson and kittens. Mmmm.



Sometimes I am a girl, and that's okay.

Baby, baby, baby bitch.

I dreamed last night that I was trying to pack all of my belongings. Again. It was impossible and infuriating. The more I got into boxes, the more there was. Some of the things I had to pack included: four magnetic mirrors, a bag of potting soil (of course spilled all over the floor), and a 1912 manuscript on infectious diseases.

In real life I left in a hurry and made the conscious decision to let one arm hang freely by my side.

There is no road trip. Today might as well be over. I can tell you exactly what I've done with my time. Gone to the gym to hang out with the old ladies in the sauna, maybe studied a little for summer job, and tried on a dozen equally unflattering outfits in which to mope around feeling sorry for myself and waiting for someone to call.

Sound like fun? Please help change the grim outlook for the end of my day.

Herzog, on the jungle

Taking a close look at what's around us, there is some sort of harmony. It is the harmony of overwhelming and collective murder.

O! Fortuna!

Yesterday I felt the universe realigning itself. I found nothing I was looking for, but everything that I wasn't, which frustrated me in the daytime and made me giddy at night. I was even given an amazing free ticket to the amazing sold out performance of Carmina Burana. Oh my. The baritone.

So, despite what my heart tells me its ready for, I am going to sit back and let the universe do its thing, and watch all the fine fun and interesting stuff happen. Perhaps only until I'm on the downswing again.

Wafna!

Re:, INBOX folder

I got the coolest email ever from a spambot named Knesset Q. Trombonist:

"had not been returned to their quarters, but had an instant. While the tooth was being refilled door. kitchen and locked the door. Safe for the moment. clinical value and I must find out what techniques The robot pusher was another matter. He was human when you are at last granted your single wish. Let us had enough time to look and to think about what about my driver than I was about anyone there, I time to reach the back of the factory from the was too good to miss. In the weeks that I had been hollowly and theatrically than was really called center, and I found an unoccupied office nearby up. Then rushed back to the room to watch my [ad for "Everything for your 100% health"] direction that was not to my liking. I had planned The robot's reflexes, being electronic, were not bear. Even on the nameless planet where you"

WHERE YOU WHAT??? AAAAAH HOW DOES THE STORY END???

Morning insomnia?

So, the honeymoon phase of living in this house has worn off. Three days isn't so bad... Now I'm left with the reality that my room is the biggest mess I've ever seen, and that there is no privacy from my parents except for in my messy room, which I don't want to clean because it reminds me too much of my recent traumatic moving out experience. Somehow the two of them manage to take up all of the rest of the space. My mom wants to go with me to Philidelphia for my job training shindig and I want to say no no no.

Ughhh, I need to be a grown up now.

The AC adaptor for my computer is busted and I have to hold it in place with my foot so that it'll charge. It's getting hot and starting to become uncomfortable. I think I am in a grumpy mood today.

Not tired, can't sleep.

I was so ready for bed, and now I'm wider awake again. Such is life.

I wanted to record some observations my hair cut experience yesterday. I am generally wary of mall salons, because you never really can know what kind of hairdresser to expect. Last time I went to this place in Crossgates both the woman cutting my hair and the token flamboyant male beautician wouldn't shut up about how fabulous my hair looked. Seriously, it was ridiculous almost to the point of insincerity. Maybe they were shooting for moral support or something.. I think I got a lot of inches cut off that day.

This time I was only there for a trim and was assigned to a shy twenty-something with good bangs and a typical Awl-bany drawl. Very, very non-hair dresser personality, which I guess is good because it busted up some stereotypes in my patterned mind. She incorporated awkward foreign phrases into most things she said, like "au naturale" and "the whole enchilada." She asked me strange questions like, "So what are your plans for the rest of the day?" I guess the question isn't inherently strange, but it was strange the way she asked it, really intense and like she had some kind of context for my response.

She spent the rest of our time together complaining about her swollen gums and how much she hates going to the dentist and hasn't been in a long time because she doesn't have insurance and she had a feeling this tooth might give her trouble because it has gumline cavities and she thinks she might need a root canal which might be painful but her dentist is gentle and usually numbs her mouth real good so that she can't feel it for three days afterward because the novocaine interacts with her meds anyway. She asked me to look at her jaw and tell her if one side was swollen. I said, "You can probably tell better than I can since I've never seen you before."

And THEN she told me that she HATES teeth and wishes they would just pull hers all out and give her dentures instead.

And all I could say was "Yeah," because I like my teeth a lot and think dentures are pretty creepy, and because I didn't want to seem insensitive.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of "meds" she's on that interact with novocaine and can be afforded without health insurance. I really hope she feels better soon. She did a great and lovely job, despite inappropriate conversational skills. She gave me a wild flipped-out blow-out (blow-job?) and a zigzag part, which I promptly rearranged in the restroom as soon I as paid the twenty-five dollars plus big sympathetic tip.

A day for change.

Wow! Home! I love it here. I am way happier than I've been in a long time. I mean, the content, stable kind of happy. My piles of stuff are scattered throughout the entire house. I can't wait to have this garage sale and also go shopping for fabric with my mom. Good stuff is going to happen this summer.

I'm usually not one to kiss and tell, so I can tell you that I most definitely wasn't kissing anyone tonight. There was, however, talk of moviemaking awesomeness, among other things.

Ears pierced. Hair cut and dyed. New kicks, too.

Two questions for an overcast afternoon.

I want to name my first born son Theophilus. That was going to be a question, but then I decided that I have my mind very much made up on the matter.

My back hurts from sitting. One more final left to go!!

Hate o'clock update.

I got my books back, but the Minnesotian escaped. Dinner was fantastic. Papers are not done. Arrrrrrgh.

Hate o'clock.

This kid made off to Minnesota with my copies of "Ice Haven" and "Long Time Relationship." Fucking A.

I can't stop thinking about what I'm going to do after I have my life/sanity back at 10PM tomorrow. Oh wait, that's right. PACK. I'm going to try not to throw anything super important away this year. I hope the hardware store will still have plastic bins... I have way too much stuff in my little room and have been trying to avoid it as much as possible the past few days. Maybe it wont be so daunting when I return the fifty bazillion library books I have checked out.

Alex Jacobs is coming over to cook a delicious dinner with me, so maybe I can get one of my papers done by then, yeah!

I'm glad Logan confirmed my observation.

Some people will ask you to smack them around. Some people will tell you things you never could have known.

Some people won't hug you back. They will furtively glance and slide notes under your door when they know you aren't there. Some people, thank god, will disappear forever and leave beautiful holes to be filled.

Tusi Couple

This is fun studying. I have written zero of seven pages today, but I guess there's always after dinner. Liz liked her quest, we dressed up like weirdos and stood singing in a field with bouquets of dandilions. This is what happens during finals. Emma is going to kick my ass tomorrow if she sees me going into the bathroom to brush my teeth for the twentieth time, and I will cry if I don't get some work done before bed time.

The Acadamy Award for embarassing melodrama goes to YOU!

Ohhhhhhfuck. Tomorrow is no internet day. I can't believe I just did this.




take the virgin-whore dichotomy quiz.
and go to mewing.net. where we're all studs.




take the "what's your dark secret?" quiz
| courtesy of mewing.net. where darkness and secrecy abound.




take the taboo quiz.
and go to mewing.net. nothing is taboo there.


I also have to somehow get myself to Aldrich to return the seventh grade text books I accidentally stole, and the quest. That's a secret. Will, like the gentleman he is, put WD40 on all of my bike's squeaky parts. It sounds really nice and quiet, but I think it might be more prone to being stolen now. The squeakyness kind of acted as an incidential burglar alarm. Maybe I'll ride it across town, yeah, but if I do I guess I should wear my helmet. Of course I still act like I'm in middle school and think helmets are dumb looking, and furthermore I still care if middle schoolers think I look dumb. I should shed this belief soon. Might as well, 'cause I get paranoid when I ride in traffic without one. It will be strange to be without it all summer, but not too weird I guess since Troy is all hills.

Val threw a pizza party for the box office and front of house people today. She is so cool! She was saying that she fixed up an old wreck of a car that she pulled out of a ditch and that it "lasted through three kids." Ohh man, she is the best boss and that is the best job. Every time I think of the crayon drawing her tiny grandaughter made of her, with the big bang hair just perfect, I start laughing a lot. It was hanging on the wall for a while, I think. What happened to that?

Today everyone avoided making eye contact, vaguely remembering who kissed whom on the carpet in the basement lounge. I'm glad that I wasn't involved. I almost sponsored a "Let's See Who Can Give Becky a Hickey First" contest, but then I laughed and squirmed my way out of it. I sat on the prude couch and thought. I know what I want to smooch when I see it, and my wild drunken girlfriends didn't fit the bill. They're hot anyway. I'm realizing how much I will really really dearly miss them next year.

Mission: accomplished, kind of?

I have the hiccups, I love my friends times bazillion. The future is full of beautiful possibilities. Kissme.

Drunk, will regret in the mourning.

OMG OMG OMG

I figured, while I was thinking of it that I might as well see what's happening in town next week. And I found...
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS AT TULIP FEST.

I died about ten thousand times in a row.

Hard and fast.

I don't know what will happen by the time I am done writing this. There's a lot I want to say, but I am wary of long, sprawling online diary entries. I don't really have time to spare, anyhow, but it looks like I'm taking a night off from homework. I was up most of last night pretending to write this paper that wasn't done until this afternoon. When asked in class to summarize what I discovered over the course of my research, my mind went blank. Did I make any academic progress at all? I think I did. The exhaustion makes it all slip away. My professor contributed something to my discussion of medical theory and practice in middle Islam. He said that, according to one of the compilations of Prophetic medicine he had come across, lovesickness was actually considered a bodily ill. Not only that, but the author of the text also suggests two possible cures:

1. Marry your love interest.
OR
2. Look at pictures of ugly naked people.

I really, reeeeeeeally wish I could get my hands on this source. That might be the greatest thing I've learned all semester. I will remember this next time I am stuck waiting by the phone for a boy or [by the] computer as the case may be.

Other funny things happened in class today, too. I'm finally starting to like school again now that it's almost time to go home. It probably is better to not leave on a sour note, though. I will probably look back on these months fondly when I'm all grown up. We always idealize the past in this way.

Two days ago I was sitting in HIST150 and had a really long June 2005 flashback. I knew Blue Mountain Lake was supposed to have some special quality to it, but I didn't know it was going to be like dropping acid. I think I relived every important moment from that month in fast-forward. The smell of the house on the first day I arrived was the most vivid, so near in my memory, that my eyes tingled and began to water. Artichoke sandwhiches. Black fly bites behind my ears. The day we walked down the mountain to the lean-to by the lake, oh my god smoking in the Jeep in the garage and oh - I suddenly snapped out of it and realized I had been zoning out for about twenty minutes. I'm pretty sure I would have witnessed the rest of the summer then if I had let myself.

Other random stuff I wanted to write about here are escaping me at the moment: I broke and then fixed The Internet. Mom says that my dog Tipper, after a few weeks of being relatively well, had another seizure yesterday. She also says I will be home in time for the Tulip Festival. Will need a date for that. My bike is very squeaky from the rain, but it was sunny today so I guess that was okay. My teeth hurt, I hope they are not falling out. I have been battling consumer impulses, and yet still haven't bought Rachael a birthday present. I am a bad sister!!! Or at least an irresponsible one!!! (Surprise, surprise.)

Speaking of which, tomorrow night I get effed out of my head with all my Beloit bfffy's in celebration of the end (almost) and of half of them being off-campus all of next year. It will be a welcome vacation from sobriety. Until then...

Alex just called me "babytron." I'm sure no comment is necessary, but if I was to make one, it would involve many little chirps and trills.

Rabbit, rabbit.

May Day snuck up on me. It's still rainy and will be 'til midweek.