Quid facio demens?

'Gullible' Is Written On The Ceiling

2005-08-29T11:43:00.000-05:00

As you probably know, Astrology is a topic I enjoy and generally I find anything about the planets fairly interesting...About a month ago, I read somewhere online about Mars coming closer to the earth than ever before on August 27th... It said that Mars would be nearly as big as the moon in the night sky. This was an interesting tidbit and so I shared it with a number of people on several occasions. That's the kind of random 'fact' that is useful when a conversation grows quiet.

I'd almost entirely forgotten about this Martian phenomenon when I turned on CNN on Saturday. The headline read "Mars Hoax." I'm such an idiot...I wonder how many people I'd told saw the news and thought me completely flaky... Just the kid in grade school who asked, "Where is it? I can't see 'gullible' anywhere!?!"

Read all about it here.

Let's talk about the weather.

2005-08-24T23:49:00.000-05:00

My first love, Alex, called me out of the blue a couple weeks ago. We were together for 3 years and before our horrible break up, I really believed we would be together forever. I suppose everyone thinks that of their first love....Enough time has passed now that I'm not angry anymore and it's been nice to talk with him again...Bored at the job that he hates at a Honda plant, Alex sent me an email in which he mentioned the weather in Ohio and how the smell of fall creeping in reminds him of Halloween in Athens, Ohio. He said his life is so boring these days that all he can write about is the weather just as like his coworkers who seem to talk about nothing else.

I find that the weather becomes a more frequent topic of conversation as I get older... It seems to be the default discussion... It's safe: no one is left out of a rant about how humid it's been lately and no one will think you're weird for bringing it up...I think that after a while people get lazy or their brains atrophy from lack use or perhaps they are with awkward people and conversation is bound to be stilted... But really- lots of folk just seem to stop caring about actually speaking with other people and talk about the weather out of habit --just so there's something other than silence... and weather talk is what happens when you don't choose to think about what comes out of your mouth... Unless, of course, the atmosphere is actually doing something remarkable.

The distinctive smell of the wind at the start of fall is probably my favorite thing to breathe in...though bittersweet...It used to be exhilarating as it was the start of the school year and I always had such hope & optimism for the year ahead...Yet it was ominous as well because that scent is the of inevitable change: your summer fun is over and now you have to get back to the grind, knowing it's just going to get dreary and bleaker with each passing day.

It's the single most cliche metaphor in human existence--the change of the seasons as age personified. These days, that break in humidity and the smell of rustling leaves ushering in the new season makes me feel old, or jaded, because hope & optimism grow distant and seem like the silly and naive ideas of children. Is this what it means to grow up ? I'm too cynical these days for anything to be so magical again... I feel like now I know better....Santa isn't real and once you know that, Christmas is never really the same again...right?

Santa doesn't really exist. Alex and I won't be married happily ever after. Life isn't easy and growing up is a slap in the face... That's how it goes- there's no escaping it. Maybe this is why people talk about the weather.

On a more positive note, I finally got a job today and I think it's going to work out...I'm excited to do something productive again...to stop feeling useless and to quit being broke and worthless...Though it has been awfully nice to have 3 months without responsibilities...Especially after the hell that was Spring semester....It's a shitty telemarketing job for a Cable Company's Customer Service...But the money's not bad and the building is across the street from my place...It felt really great to be able to call my Dad to tell him some good news...

2005-08-01T01:25:00.000-05:00

what a wonderful and painfully accurate horoscope:

Strength of character will be your partner today, Persephone. You seem to have an aura whose intensity scares some people and attracts others. Today your force of character could be the cause of some wonderful feelings and emotions for the people close to you. Don't try and hide your own emotions. They are the source of your creativity.

How true is that? I mean, about my 'intensity' scaring some and attracting others... Perhaps it's a Scorpio thing...

2005-07-31T15:25:00.000-05:00

Well Hello.

For those of you who care to know-- the scumbag who murdered my friend for $70 and 5lbs of pot received life in prison without possibility of parole. I'm glad for this, as my feelings on the death penalty are mixed. The thing about the sentence though- is this-- It doesn't really make any difference. Yes, I am glad that he is in prison and will remain there. But I don't feel any better about the whole thing. Nothing has really changed. Kayla is still gone. I kind of wish that he had to spend the rest of his life in that cell with pictures of her and Aaron and Eric plastered everywhere...I suppose that would only work if this person felt any remorse. He is still claiming that all the witnesses lied. Needless to say, this situation is still eating me up...I suspect it will for some time...

Meanwhile, in other news... My Boy is finally back in town. He'd been at home for surgery on a torn ACL until today. I'm going to go over to his new place tonight...I'm excited. I've missed him-- though I did have my fun with old flings while at home. I wonder if I'm so happy to see him because I've really missed him or because I've built him up in my head in his absence.
I have this weird way of falling in love with boys that I am friends with once I am separated from them. When a friend of mine went away to boot camp once, I convinced myself that I was in love with him. I was not. When I went away to Greece, I thought I was in love with my best friend Tyson. Nope. Now, in addition to my Boy, I have a friend who is far away and won't be back until 2006, at least. I keep thinking about him. His best friend has kinda picked up on my newfound crush--but I don't want him to know...I'm afraid that when he comes back my feelings will change. I don't know. I'm silly. Perhaps I just won't let myself grow crushes on boys that are near me because I'm afraid of getting rejected, and so I focus on those who are too far away to say no...HA! Any insights?

This week I must get a job. I'm going to apply at this call center across the street, despite the objections of my friends and former employees, because I know they'll hire me and I need the money...blah. I don't want to join the real world. I want to find a wealthy prince charming who will fall in love with me and take care of everything so I won't have to worry...not likely...

2005-07-26T22:20:00.000-05:00

Jeez! Working this hard is kicking my ass... I've been starting at 7:30 and getting home at 6pm! Then, I'll shower and eat, and then go to sleep. So,I'm announcing officially that I will only be writing occasionally until after August the 2nd. At that time I'll be done with this temp job. Meanwhile, what free time I do have is being spent reading Harry Potter-- It's only taken me a week to read 150 pages!!!!

Thanks, guys.

Work

2005-07-22T21:56:00.000-05:00

Well... I really think now that I've lost all my readers... I'm sorry guys! If you are out there, say hello--- please.

It's been a hell of a week. Little me has been working her ass off with the maintenance manager from my apartment. He manages a couple hundred apartments around here & asked me if I wanted to help him for 2 weeks...He has to get them all cleaned and prepared for new tenants by August 1st-- but not all of them are so eager to move out... Anyway, I don't think I've ever worked harder than I have in the past 6 days. Physical labor is kinda great-- for the time being. I like doing something that actually gives me a finished product when complete, and I like sweating and working so hard. It's also really nice that I've made more money this week than I've had since May...Awesome...

But, I am exhausted and tomorrow is another day of hard work. I've been working so hard that I haven't even had the energy to read the new Harry Potter... I own it-- It's been sitting here for a week...but I'm only 20 pages into it! I gotta go get to it...

Punishment?

2005-07-18T12:14:00.000-05:00

I suppose it's going to take a while for anyone to realize that I didn't disappear forever and am back to the blog. I feel like my lack of hits is punishment for having left the blog for so long. Ha.

Meanwhile, I don't feel much like writing today.

Two years ago, on July 22, my best friend, her boyfriend and his roommate were brutally murdered in Columbus, Ohio. In September, the police made 3 arrests. In March, 2 of the 3 men pleaded guilty and turned state's evidence on the third man, the shooter. Last week, his trial started. It's a capital case and my feelings about the death penalty are complicated...

Link to the news story about the trial

I have been in close contact with a friend who has been attending the trial. Learning of all the gruesome, horrible details of my friends' deaths has been really tough. I feel like it just happened all over again; I am grieving like I did two years ago. I know it will be okay soon enough.

One of the reasons I went home was to attend and volunteer for the 2nd annual Kayla 5K in her honor.

Can you go ever really 'go home again'?

2005-07-15T22:33:00.000-05:00

MEA CULPA!!! I feel especially rotten when people care or worry about me while I'm just off, not paying any attention. I like to think that I am a more considerate person than that... I've just returned from a month spent at home in Ohio...

In my hurry to pack and get everything set, I forgot to mention that I would be on hiatus for a month or so before I left. :-/ I feel rather guilty about that--- particularly after discovering a couple very considerate emails inquiring about my absence and well-being. To those loyal readers- you know who you are - I apologize and express my thanks. You guys rock-- I truly appreciate it.
I went home to attend a series of important gatherings, and of course, to see my father and my Ohio cat, Gavin. I have many good stories to tell-- though not this evening.

Tonight I found myself growing homesick while trying to choose pictures to post from my trip.

Home is 'sweet' and comfortable and wonderful-- but at the same time I believe that to whomever we may attribute the adage "you can't go home again" was painfully on point. 'Home' exists not only at a certain location, but also with specific loved ones and at a specific level of awareness of the world around you.

At least- that is, for me...

During this trip, for the first time in my life, I became incredibly aware of my age. I know, I know-- I'm only 22... But the home I look to return to is that home that ceased to exist sometime during my freshman year of college. When I return to Granville, OhioI yearn for that reckless confidence and self-righteous ignorance that existed only in high school . As hard as all of us try-- we cannot go back that youthfulness about which we reminisce at length before going our separate ways - and to jobs and bills and --- yikes!--- reality.

The giant maple tree in my front yard on Maple street, as seen from my
favorite place in Granville, Ohio-- our front porch.

It was much the same upon returning to my alma mater, Ohio University... The Athens, Ohio that I considered my home for 4 years only existed while I lived my life there, with my friends and my classes and my naive world-view...(and I'm not trying to claim that I am any less naive these days...) Now there are all these people I don't know walking around or bartending or generally just existing in Athens... And while I still run into friends or acquaintances while heading down Court Street to catch last call at Tony's...but not anywhere near as many as a year ago...

And then last night, having returned to Athens, Georgia--- I went out with my friends here to some bars... and while we walked the 3 blocks or so from one bar to another, I ran into 3 separate people I know well enough to hug right there on the street....

Home Sweet Home, I guess....

kalendas junias

2005-06-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling rather uninspired today... Most likely due to the flurry of creativity I've busied myself recently and then catching up on all my emails & letters...

Oooh..One such letter was from a dear friend in Illinois, and it wasn't so much of a letter as a gift! For me! Out of the blue! It is an adorable little book : How To Seduce, Pleasure and Titillate in Classical Latin. A very thoughtful present from a very dear friend. A lovely surprise. :-)

Also today was the final ~~rape of my gums~~ appointment with the dentist-- at long last!!

Actually, today's experience wasn't that bad...It's the dull ache and soreness that comes creeping in a few hours after the anesthesia wears off that makes me feel like somebody slipped some roofies in my gums last night and had their nasty way with me.

But today, a remarkable event occurred. I was up very late last night doing things I shouldn't have been doing with boy-who-has-a-girlfriend-but-I-just-can't-resist and as a result, I am exhausted today. [And No, I'm not going to tell you about it--> praeteritio] After my dentist, Dr. Finger (I swear to God that's his real name; he's a very nice man), gave me the anesthetic shots and started to do his thing-- I fell asleep in the chair, while he was drilling away at my teeth!! I woke up just in time for him to finish up with the polishing. It was fucking awesome. I suppose having to go to the dentist every other week has forced me to conquer my fear of the whole experience-- I was comfortable enough to nap with my mouth forced open ridiculously wide. Hell yeah!--one down, 64,583 fears to go. And it only cost my father $3000....

On my way home, I decided to stop to put some air in my friend's car's tires. They needed it, and I don't want a repeat of this incident. I go to put the air in the tires and after squatting there for at least 5 minutes, repeatedly checking the hose and trying to figure out why it wasn't working-- before I realized that you have to pay for the fucking air! A) I must have looked like the quintessential dumb bitch who likes to think she knows something about cars...B) Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to start charging for air?!?!? Seriously-- what the fuck? I am completely baffled and outraged, frankly. . . And I didn't even have 75cents so I could use the stupid machine. . .

Here are some tidbits from my new book- please excuse the loose translations as they are not my own:

Quae dant quaeque negant,
gaudent tamen esse rogatae
Whether they say yes or no, women like to be asked. Ovid Ars Amatoria I.345

Ita Vero! Mea palaestra privata est. Yes, that's my private gym.

. . . Si pertendens animo vestita cubaris
scissa veste meas experiere manus
If you persist in lying fully clothed you'll feel
my hands tear your clothes off. Propertius 2.15. 17-18

Blogging and Fight Club?

2005-05-28T07:43:00.000-05:00

I love Chuck Palahniuk. There's something about the way he writes and what he writes about that speaks to me, reveals the truth about things unexpectedly. Bret Easton Ellis does the same thing in a similar, yet distinctly different, way. Both authors are among my favorites and I own everything they've written. When I first read Fight Club, I thought it so brilliant that I started highlighting passages. I recently bought his newest book, Stranger Than Fiction*, which is book of short stories. The book's been out for a while and received a lot of praise, but I haven't had time for pleasure reading until now.

In the introduction, Palahniuk explains how he writes and researches for his books--- and other things...I love how the intro begins--enough to quote it. I really hope it's not illegal to do so... A big part of the intro is focused on the cycle of time spent alone and then with others that writers go through. I think what he writes is very true, and applicable to all sorts of people or all sorts of writing. As I read, and reread, I think about how what he is saying applies to my life and then-- to blogging. Read this: (emphasis is mine)

If you haven't already noticed, all my books are about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people.
In a way, that is the opposite of the American Dream: to get so rich you can rise above the rabble, all those people on the freeway or, worse, the bus. No, the dream is a big house, off alone somewhere. A penthouse, like Howard Hughes. Or a mountaintop castle, like William Randolph Hearst. Some lovely isolated nest where you can invite only the rabble you like. An environment you can control, free from conflict and pain. Where you rule.
Whether it's a ranch in Montana or basement apartment with ten thousand DVDs and high-speed internet access, it never fails. We get there, and we're alone. And we're lonely.
After we're miserable enough--like the narrator in his Fight Club condo, or the narrator isolated by her own beautiful face in Invisible Monsters--we destroy our lovely nest and force ourselves back into the larger world. In so many ways, that's also how you write a novel. You plan and research. You spend time alone, building this lovely world where you control, control, control everything. You let the telephone ring. The emails pile up. You stay in your story world until you destroy it. Then you come back to be with other people.
If your story sells well enough, you get to go on book tour. Do interviews. Really be with people. A lot of people. People, until you're sick of people. Until you crave the idea of escaping, getting away to a . . .
To another lovely story world.
And so it goes. Alone. Together. Alone. Together.
Chances are, if you're reading this, you know this cycle. Reading a book is not a group activity. Not like going to a movie or a concert. This is the lonely end of the spectrum.
[. . . .]
My pet theory about Fight Club's success is that the story presented a structure for people to be together. People want to see new ways for connecting. Look at books like How to Make an American Quilt and The
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood and The Joy Luck Club.
These are all books that present a structure--making a quilt or playing
mah-jongg-- that allows people to be together and share their stories. All these
books are short stories bound together by a shared activity. [. . .]
. . . In so many ways, these places--support groups, twelve-step recovery groups, demolition derbies-- they've come to serve the role that organized religion used to. We used to go to church to reveal the worst aspects of ourselves, our sins. To tell our stories. To be recognized. To be forgiven. And to be redeemed, accepted back into our community. This ritual was our way to stay connected to people, and to resolve our anxiety before it could take us so far from humanity that we would be lost.

In a way though too, is what he's talking about so different than what we do as bloggers?
When I started this blog, I was seeing a shrink. After a while, I quit going. I feel like I get a release from blogging that replaces my need to see a psychologist. While that may not be true for everyone (and while I may still need a shrink and not know it, lol) do we not get a release from this 'ritual' of blogging, of telling our stories. Are we not also trying to find a way to 'stay connected' and to 'resolve our anxiety before it could take us so far from humanity that we would be lost'? I know I do. Blogging is a way for me to connect with people while at the same time have that mountaintop castle, alone and in control.

Palahniuk goes on:

We live our lives according to stories. About being Irish or being black.
About working hard or shooting heroin. Being male or femail. And we spend our
lives looking for evidence-- facts and proof-- that support our story. As a
writer, you just recognize that part of human nature. Each time you create a
character, you look at the world as that character, looking for the details that
make that reality the one true reality.
Like a lawyer arguing a case in a courtroom, you become an advocate who wants the reader to accept the truth of your character's worldview. You want to give the reader a break from their own life. From their own life story.
This is how I create a character. I tend to give each character an education and skill set that limits how they see the world. A house cleaner sees the world as an endless series of stains to remove. A fashion model sees the world as a series of rivals for public attention. A failed medical student sees nothing but the moles and twitches that might be the early signs of terminal illness. . .

It seems to me that this is almost painfully true. We do live our lives according to stories, stories that we tell on our blogs. For Palahniuk, it's about creating a character....For bloggers, or some of them, that character is ourselves. This makes me wonder about my own world view, and how it's apparent in my blogging... What about yours? I do find that I get a break when reading others' blogs, and the authors of those blogs are like characters in a book. When reading other people's blogs, we get a glimpse of what it's like to live in another person's reality-- a peak at their world view.

Palahniuk ends his intro, and I this post, with this:

In this way, even the lonely act of writing becomes an excuse to be around
people. In turn, the people fuel the story telling.
Alone. Together. Fact. Fiction. It's a cycle.
Comedy. Tragedy. Light. Dark. They define each other.
It works, but only if you don't get stuck too long in any one place.

Bathtime Kitty

2005-05-26T19:55:00.000-05:00

So my cat's new favorite thing to do is mess with shit in the bathroom, especially while I am in the shower or bath. I've found evidence that she's been going in the bathtub for a while now...About 2 weeks ago, she starting sitting on her litter box or the sink and singing/meowing while I shower. She's very careful not to get wet. I think she is just curious and wants to get in the tub when I get out. It's awfully cute.

But in the past few days she has learned a new trick.

As I shower, now she decided it is great fun to take the biggest, smelliest shit possible. My bathroom is small and I can't escape it. If I weren't already in the shower, I would leave the bathroom or do something about it. But once in the shower, I feel like I should just do my business and get out....I think she does this just to get the bathtub all to herself... Sneaky cat she is.

2005-05-26T19:54:00.000-05:00

Bathtime Kitty

Men get angry at stupid, pointless shit.

2005-05-25T17:15:00.000-05:00

Grrrr! Why is my neighbor such an ass?!?!! I really don't understand. He's been a good friend mostly, except in the last month or so.

Today around 4 he calls me. My friend keeps his car parked in our lot because he lives in a place that doesn't have a parking lot. Technically, his car should be parked in my spot-- spot number 2. But the lot isn't entirely full and so nobody pays much attention to parking in the correct spot.
But today my neighbor calls and is pissed that my friend's car is parked in his space. I told him in the future I'll pay more attention and ask my friend to do the same. I then asked why it was such a big deal, kinda laughingly. I told him it seemed kinda ridiculous to me.

Then he yelled at me, saying he didn't want to see that car in his spot again. I told him I'd get it out of his spot right away, then, and hung up on him. I moved the car and now I am angry. Grrr. What the fuck?! When I went to move the car, it made me even more pissed that there NO OTHER CARS in the entire lot. Can anybody tell me why on earth he would chose this to get pissed about?

A month ago he showed up at my place with his friend at 3 am after going to the bars. He drank an entire bottle of wine that I was saving and specifically told him not to drink all of. Then he swiped my bowl without my knowledge. He refuses to pay me back for the wine, or admit responsibility. He left my bowl in his friend's car, who didn't know it was in there. His friend then gave it away to someone else! Thankfully, his friend got it back, but my neighbor has yet to return it to me. Ack.

I always say, Never Fuck With A Scorpio. Let's hope he gets his shit together and apologizes soon because it won't be fun to be on my bad side while being my neighbor.

eye meme

2005-05-22T05:33:00.000-05:00

my green eyes

I've always loved having green eyes. And, frankly, I think they are my best feature. Wouldn't you agree?

This is why I decided to participate in this eye meme I've been seeing everywhere lately. I don't think I've done a meme before. . .

I don't really understand the whole 'meme' thing. Somebody starts one, and others just then do it themselves? Does one need to ask permission? Who starts these things anyway--is there some sort of meme moderator or something? What about the ones that 'tag' other people-- can you do it without having been tagged first? With any meme, do you need to link to the place where you saw it? [there were just too many people with the eye meme...] Does 'Friday Spies' just involve taking a meme you saw from somewhere else and blogging it-- or does entail something more? What about that '100 things' meme-- it seems like that is one that lots of folk just have, kinda like a blogroll or a profile.....I've been meaning to do that one....

I'm just an idiot about some things. Meme's are one of them. :-)

Flashback

2005-05-20T10:45:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to find a way of expressing my awe of the power of human interaction and the existence of meaningful coincidence, my renewed faith in some sort of fate or found in coincidence. I'm having trouble doing so without using cliche after cliche. . . So I guess I'll just tell y'all my story.

I spent the majority of yesterday coloring... with my markers. Also catching up on blogs and playing with stickers... Essentially I am lately just reveling in the fact that I don't have to do anything in particular, and so I am doing whatever-the-fuck I feel like doing. Sometime after midnight I heard my neighbor outside and I thought he was yelling for me. I went outside to investigate (and tell him to get off his ass and knock on my door if he wants my attention) and found him talking to 3 kids I didn't know. It turned out it was one of them yelling and not at me...

One of them was a pretty blonde girl named Brooke--she was with two of her guy friends, Jared and Carl. It was pretty clear from first impressions that they were pretty young- and it wasn't long before we learned that they would graduated high school in about a week and were visiting Jared's brother for the evening. The brother, Jeff, lives at a nearby apartment complex and they had ventured out in search of smokes only to find the nearby convenience store closed.

My neighbor's pizza arrived and he retired for the evening. I was happy to sell them a pack of smokes (I always have a carton) and invited them up to my place. They were nice kids, very polite and I didn't think twice about bringing strangers into my apartment. . . Only now that I am writing about this do I realize that's not a very smart thing to do. Only now do I realize that I then proceeded to give alcohol to minors and that is not something I ordinarily condone... But-- when I was 17, I would frequently go to Athens, Ohio with friends to visit somebody's older sibling, and do things that my father would not have approved of and that could have gotten us all arrested. They had already been drinking at the brother's place, but they weren't drunk or anything.

I ended up spending the entire night just talking with Jared for the most part. Brooke left not long after they arrived- she was tired and hungry and apparently wanted to seize the opportunity to seduce (unsuccessfully) the brother while her friends were not there. LOL. Carl was very open about his Christianity from the start- it seemed like maybe he was mentioning it so frequently more to affirm himself than inform us. He wasn't offensive or in-your-face about it or anything and I think he was just being friendly.

This Jared boy and I were fast friends. If I were 17 or 18, I would be completely head-over-heels for this one. He had really beautiful blue eyes...But more than that, he just seemed to think about life in the same way that I do. ---or the way I did when I was 17. We three sat on my floor and smoked wayyyyy too many cigarettes and talked about everything. College, Europe, Drugs, Social Security, Love, Sex, Relationships, the Insanity of Teenage Girls, Family, Football, Airport Security, Abortion, Fate, Southern Republicans, Gossip, Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews Concerts, et cetera.

Often I find myself feeling old... or maybe, dare I say it, wise, when I am with people who aren't that much younger than I am. But at the same time I feel very young and maybe even younger than my companions. I've felt this way even around my peers for many years, but as I get older this feeling is stronger and more frequent, especially around those who aren't as 'old' as I am. I feel the need to teach, almost-- to let them know how it is because I've done it/seen it/been there/ know all about it, and for some reason I think my 'expertise' will be immensely useful to them. I realize when I'm doing that that I do that a lot and it's probably really annoying. Of course it's an absurd thing for me to do. I am really not that much older than they are at all. I am certainly not an expert on anything, let alone on how best to live your life when you are graduating from High School. Half the time, especially lately, I feel just as scared and little and confused as I did when I was 16.

In reality, we all are currently in similarly frightening and exciting transitional periods of our lives. These kids, I think, are a bit more stable than I was. When I graduated from high school I wasn't planning on attending college quite yet. I told the only school I applied to that I wouldn't be attending for a year. I was going to move to Montana with my boyfriend and work on dental floss farm. (Montana=true; Floss farm=joking Zappa reference) But Alex & I broke up 3 days after graduation and I got a job at a nursing home to make some summer cash. I didn't have any idea what I was going to do in the fall, and I wasn't worried about it. My father (god bless him!) just held his breath and prayed that something would snap me back into reality. He never pressured me or lectured me, and I was completely happy being oblivious to the reality of my future.

Right now my life is not remarkably different than it was in the summer of 2000. Thank god I finally got rid of that boyfriend, it took me two more years after that....but still. Seriously though-- I find myself now not a student, not knowing really what I'm going to do to support myself and better my future, and I'm strangely calm and not worried about it. I know now, and I knew then, that everything would be just perfect. I had a whopper of a panic attack while learning how to brush the teeth of those who are no longer able. I got up in the middle of training and ran like hell down the halls of home, out the front doors, and didn't stop until I was three blocks away at a pay phone.

Reality hit me all at once, sitting there realizing that if I didn't do something I would be brushing old people's teeth and working with unhappy women twice my age & half my education in Newark, Ohio, alone, for who-knows-how-long while all my friends moved away to school and my father grew accustomed to his disappointment. It was the first week of August. I called my father (collect-- I hadn't grabbed my purse when I left) and, without explaining why I was out of breath, asked him to call OU and tell them I didn't want to defer anymore. Three weeks later I moved into Washington Hall on East Green and decided to take Latin 101 because I knew it would be easy after 4 years in high school. That panicked decision was probably the smartest one I've made in 22 years, and doubtless one of the most important.

While I sat last night with these two boys, I recognized so much of myself in them. That blind naivete, self-righteous freedom and courage, excitement, idealistic world-view, and fear that can't be hidden no matter how hard you try---I saw in them, and from them as I listened I could feel all those things as I did 5 years ago. Saint Augustine when discussing memory said something about human emotions being remarkable ---in that when one remembers an emotion they once experienced, they know what it was to feel that way yet do not experience that emotion again. Thus one can remember the pain of losing a loved one, but the memory is not anywhere near as horrible as the real emotion was and we are aware of that. While I think Augustine is right most of the time, not for me in this case. It wasn't so much that I remembered feeling that way as it was that I was almost reliving it in some way. It was fresh and real to me- like I could smell it or something.

Because of that, from these two 18 year old boys from Snellville I found myself learning some things about growing up & life that I, in my infinite 22 year old wisdom, really needed to learn.

All I need now is a job and a massive panic attack and then I'll have figured out the meaning of life.... :-)

Both of them will be coming here in the fall. I don't know if I'll ever see them again, but I kind of think I will.

West Wing Week!

2005-05-17T18:55:00.000-05:00

I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful thing--- All West Wing-All the time-for a whole week! Yippeee! [I'm such a nerd.] What a great idea! It doesn't matter that I've seen every episode at least twice. And it couldn't have come at a better time. I don't have shit to do this week but watch the West Wing. :-)

I often think that my love of the West Wing has to do with my hatred of the current, real administration and of George W. himself. I think maybe I love the show so much because I wish Jed Bartlett was really the president--and I'm happy living in a fantasy world in which he is. I do know that I love and am in love with Rob Lowe as Sam Seaborn. I wish he was really a representative in California (or whatever Sam is doing--I know he lost that election) and that he wanted to marry me. **Not Rob Lowe as Rob Lowe--because he is a little creepy--but Rob Lowe as Sam Seaborn.

The only things I did have to do, I did today: return library books & go to the dentist. The dentist was shitty today--2 hours and my antisthesia wore off, and they found more work they have to do. Ick! My teeth hurt and I feel like my face was raped or violated in some way. But at least that's over with. I think this is the first time in my life that I actually returned a library book or books on time. I'm proud of myself for that. Ha!

I feel like I shouldn't have posted that thing about wanting to jump Josh in my last post. At the same time, I feel like I shouldn't have to censor myself. I think most of all that my problem is that I'm afraid that I sounded ridiculous to y'all...And I'm sure I did. eh--in the end, I'm glad I didn't sleep with him. That's that. I think my feelings for Boy are stronger, and I think he feels the same-- and no, I didn't sit him down for a chat about it. Last week I went to that party at his place and met his roommates and other friends...Then the night after that, he took me out with his good buddies to see this band. I do well as the lone female in groups of men--and I think he was proud of me [if that makes any sense.] I could tell that I 'passed' with his friends. And I could tell that he was glad to have me there as his 'girl' -if you will- in the way he paid attention to me and touched me. Oooh..Now I'm feeling like a silly girl. Ha. That night I stayed at his place for the first time. For some strange reason, I got kind of nervous. . .

Brian- if you are reading this- call Rob and get my number or just stop by or something. We need to chill. Soon. :-)

Now--- back to the West Wing!

{oops! I forgot to change some names here...I've edited appropriately...}

Laughing mechanics...

2005-05-11T15:46:00.000-05:00

Well...It's been quite an interesting 24 hours. . .

The boy who I was involved with a few months ago, the one with the girlfriend, stopped by last night. He's leaving for the summer and I won't see him until August--so he wanted to say goodbye...He also wanted something else, if you know what I mean... But I managed to stave off his seductions and stay good. Even if Boy doesn't want to be my 'boyfriend,' I don't think it's cool to be sleeping with him and someone else at the same time...

But that's not even the half of it.

My new phone arrived today. So I had to go to the Verizon place and have them switch over my numbers and activate my phone. I decided that while I did that, I would go to Old Navy and return some shit I bought a few weeks ago. I ran those errands and found myself having trouble getting out of the Old Navy parking lot.

Let's back up. First- I do not have a driver's license or a car. My friend Andy parks his car at my place and in return lets me drive his car when I need to. I don't drive it very often, but today I really needed to get my phone working again.

Okay--so I decided just to turn right and find a place to turn around where there is a stoplight. I needed to turn left out of the parking lot and it just wasn't happening. So I turned right and found myself in a right turn only lane, so I turned right and discovered that it was an entrance to the highway. ACK! Andy was low on gas and I didn't know where I was.

The stupid person in front of me didn't know how to merge onto a highway, obviously, because she stopped at the end of the merging lane. I had to then stop quite abruptly to avoid hitting her. I think it must have been that sudden stop that popped the tire.

I heard the car making a lot of noise, and figured it was because the car needed gas. I pulled off at the first exit and made it to a gas station. I only had $4 but I figured even one gallon would help. It was a full service station, too and had a garage where they were fixing other cars. Thank the lord! As I was pumping the gas, one of the mechanics came up and asked me if I knew that I was driving on a flat. I could hear all the other mechanics laughing at me. HA! I deserved it. I had no idea the tire was flat and would have driven off.

The guys were really nice and put the spare on for me, and gave me directions for getting home. I had no idea where I was or where this gas station was or how to get back. Their directions were great and I got home fine. Unfortunately, I can't get a hold of the man who owns the car....

Quite the adventure. I need a nap! Boy is having a party tonight so I figure I'll sleep for a while and then get ready to go. . . I'm going to try to avoid talking to Boy about 'our relationship'...bc I really want to...I really wanted to sleep with Josh last night...but I didn't...ahh...Perhaps I should just not worry about it and shut up... I think I will... night-night...

2005-05-05T00:12:00.000-05:00

Man. I am 22 years old and I need to be either studying for my final tomorrow or finishing my other paper....

What is it that I really want to be doing?

Coloring. with markers.

I'm completely serious...

Does drawing a map of Dante's Purgatory with Sharpies count as studying? (that's what I'll be doing for at least a few more minutes.... )

The More Extravagant the Disaster...

2005-05-02T02:24:00.000-05:00

You guys are awesome. Thank you so much for your much-needed support. I did eventually stop crying, and I've been very busy trying to write brilliant final papers. (one of which is due tomorrow, and I must get back to editing...)

In November, I posted a blog on Myspace that I think is perfectly relevant right now. After I'd worked through the initial shock of receiving the letter, I realized (yet again) that everything would be okay. I'm trying to view this whole experience as something with a lesson I needed to learn. . . and now I'm trying to learn it. When my paper is done, I'll put up a real entry...For now, I think it's really interesting to look back on how I was thinking at the end of last semester.
Here it is:

So I have an article summary that I really should be writing right now...along with preparing a presentation of that summary in class tomorrow...Somehow "The Relation of the Apology of Socrates to Gorgias' Defense of Palamedes and Plato's Critique of Gorgianic Rhetoric" isn't sparking my fancy right now....In reality, it's a cool topic, as far as obscure articles concerning Greek rhetoric go... I just don't feel like it; it's been a rough week and wasting time on myspace is just too tempting....

I feel like I must subconciously want to fail out of this program, because I keep fucking up and not getting things done.... At the same time, as I attempt to articulate this thought, I realize that it relates perfectly to that stupid article, as it focuses on the Socratic ideal. Translated into Latin, the Socratic ideal is this: 'nemo suo sponte peccat' or--loosely translated-- no one fails of their own volition, that is, no one chooses to do anything that they really don't want to do...or, no one fucks up without somehow preferring to do so, because, if you set out to fuck up, then in actuality you are fulfilling your goal and then it's not fucking up....]

Then, I realize that I'm thinking too hard and that I need not analyze myself in such ways. Doing so will only lead to redundant introspection and this is entirely unnecessary and not productive.

Each day I grow more certain that I am losing my mind, anyway...My friend recently shared a poem with me, by Claire Bateman--a poet I'd never heard of---a favorite passage from it is as follows:

Maybe I'm here
to dispel the illusion
that life proceeds smoothly
as long as one pays attention;

for the clumsy person,
the closer, the more minute,
the more exacting the concentration,
the more extravagant the disaster.

This is the reality of my life. I think I must be in the midst of an extravagant disaster....At least, for now, I don't really mind so much if this is accurate; I can go with the flow... If I were really worried about failing, I would do something about it...Right? I mean, no one does anything without really wanting to.....

...Please don't confront me with my failures,

2005-04-27T15:02:00.000-05:00

I have not forgotten them.

It's official. I got the letter today. I failed out of grad school. I knew this was coming for a long time now. If I didn't get officially booted, I wasn't sure I wanted to stay... But to know for certain is extremely upsetting. I feel awful and I'm so angry & disappointed. I still feel like this is not entirely my fault, and that maybe if certain faculty members werent' so convinced I'd fail from day one, I wouldn't have. Who knows.

They urged me to, despite the disappointing news, work hard on completing my coursework for the semester.

So, I suppose I'll continue to write my papers. I gotta quit crying first.

GRRRRRRRR!

2005-04-25T10:54:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past hour and a half writing thoughtfully & carefully about something I've been thinking about a lot lately and Blogger ate it--not just once, but TWICE...in 40 minutes!!!

and no, the 'recover post' button doesn't actually do anything. After the 1st time, I rewrote everything and more...then it happened again. Grrrrr! Infuriating!

Here's what the recover post button could save...I don't have the time to rewrite the rest of it now...I'll finish up and fix this post when I get done with the rest of my shit today...

What can the West Wing tell us about the effects of Lucan's narrative technique?

Another weekend comes to an end. I am in complete denial about the end of the semester & refuse to believe that I will be done with the first year of school here in a little over a week.

The final quarter of my undergraduate career was a blur-- I had so much to do for gradation and preparing to move, so many dear friends to spend time with. I was working in the department with my slide library, as well as bartending 20hrs a week. It just doesn't seem possible for that to have been nearly a year ago. It's also strange for me to be wrapping up the year in April--as I've always had class in June. . . I'm going to have to think about reality very soon. Yikes! That means looking for a job, figuring out what I'm going to do about school, & going home for my 5-year high school reunion, removal of my wisdom teeth, the 4th of July and the wedding of my dear friends at our alma-mater.

Ick! I think I'm going to stick with this denial strategy for the time being--or at least until I get my final papers finished. Because I had to withdraw from 2 classes earlier this semester, this finals-week is not so bad...quite the opposite of last semester. I'm really enjoying writing/ learning/ analyzing a smaller chunk of text but for incredible detail. Both papers concern Lucan VIII and though much of what I'm working on overlaps, the papers are entirely different analyses of 2 distinct themes. I've loved Lucan unexplainably for years and I think it's awesome to go so far with a single text.

I'm having a little bit of trouble, though, with finding a way to articulate what I think is the significant, intended affect of certain aspects of Lucan's narrative technique. [hmmm... and I claim to be a writer!] This is a problem I've always run into when I'm writing on something I like so much. I've accrued all this textual evidence, read all sorts of secondly literature, and then I can't put find the words to explain how I think those elements work together or how they are both individually & communally indicative of a larger point. Knowing me, I'll figure out how to explicate my ideas brilliantly approximately 24 hours before the paper is due.

I hate working on papers at the last possible time...I'm not the type to put off papers until the last minute. I believe writing should be a process, a cyclic set of activities that allow for greater understanding & learning (and therefore, knowing) through a 'loosely sequential and recursive set of phases.' (Guilford 1960) As a writing intensive program TA, I've read a lot about this and seen the value prewriting & outlining/brainstorming & constantly revising in both my students' work and mine...Writing, as a process, feeds productivity & insight.

Lunacy

2005-04-23T12:11:00.000-05:00

Aha!

So maybe it's not hormones that are making me crazy! Tomorrow night there will be a full moon with a lunar eclipse in Scorpio.

This is from Astrology.com:

This Sunday, we're seeing the first of 2005's two lunar eclipses. Very early in the morning, the Earth's silhouette will pass in front of the Moon, shadowing out its light, but you'll begin to feel the effects 24 hours earlier. This eclipse is focused on Scorpio, the sign of sexuality and the paranormal -- quite the exciting combination! Scorpio is the most secretive and ambiguous sign of the zodiac, and you'll certainly feel a sense of mystery this weekend. You'll also feel a detached focus on yourself, as the illumination of the Moon, which rules our emotions, will be blocked. It's an excellent time to take a step back from the details of your life to see the whole picture.

Lunar eclipses are super-charged full Moons -- and full Moons are famous for turning up the volume on all our emotions. This particular eclipse will occur with the Moon in Scorpio, famously the most intense, depth-seeking sign of them all. Needless to say, whatever you're feeling, you'll be feeling it in spades right now. And you'll be more than willing to express those feelings to anyone who even remotely hints at being interested. Just keep in mind that it's easy to take things right over the top when this lunation is on duty, and to get totally absorbed in what's going on internally while ignoring the effects of all that on the outside world. Tough as it may be, then, consider the impact of what you're about to say and do on the future -- and try to do it well before you open your mouth.

Frankly, this is so right on that I'm a little weirded out.

2005-04-22T20:18:00.000-05:00

It is incredibly defeating to be deeply affected by velocitous emotions--only to realize that what I'm feeling isn't rational, but hormonal. I am a being who is ultimately controlled by her emotions and when I feel lonely or angry or even joyful--I'm not just kinda lonely, I'm thoroughly lonely...I've been so moody for the past week, weepy and then giggly or furious...And I know this is happening, at least partly, because of hormones, and it just frustrates me. It's as though my thoughts are simply not valid because there's nothing real behind them. I don't know if that makes sense...

Loneliness has been creeping around within me for the past few days. Though totally cliche--I truly feel more lonely in the company of others than when actually alone. The presence of other people serves to make it clear to me that the friends I have here don't know me at all, nor I them. Then I just feel isolated and homesick. But my friends at home are busy living their lives just as I want them to be doing-- though I know they love & miss me, I'm not a part of their lives really anymore. People lose touch- even with the best of intentions. And so, if I no longer truly belong with those I used to spend all my time with & who know me very well--and I don't feel that I belong with anyone here-- where does that put me?

I believe that this kind of thinking is self-indulgent bullshit on my part. I know it. I'm sure I won't fall into some sort of deep depression or spend the next 2 weeks harping on the fact that I have no friends---I just need to indulge myself for a bit so I can remember why it is that I choose not to feel sorry for myself most of the time.

My friends here are essentially the people I live next to, and 2 from the department, and they are all great kids. The thing is that they all have their own lives and their own friends and their own plans. They hang out with me when they have nothing better to do or when their plans are here and I just happen to be around. They leave to go hang out with their real friends after stopping by to say hello on their way out. I can't blame them--I'm not angry with them for doing so and I don't expect them to invite me to tag along all the time...It just sucks for me because I don't have other friends to go hang out with.

It's Friday night at 10 pm and I've called everyone I know. They are all either busy or not answering. This is such a foreign thing for me to feel because I've never in my life had this problem before. I've always had more friends and more things to do than I knew what to do with. The other night, the neighbor couple who I spend the most time with went to some buddy's house, Boy was at work & then joined them. I went downstairs to chill with the other neighbor & his friends. They got a phone call & were going to go play poker at someone else's place--the friend who got the call just assumed I was coming with...so I grabbed my coat. My neighbor, when he realized I thought I was coming too, gave me some lame reason as to why it wasn't a good idea for me to do so. I acted like it wasn't a big deal--because it wasn't--but it definitely upset me.

I decided to clean to take my mind off of things that night...and I came across some old notes from high school, written by my best friend Kayla. Nearly 3 years ago she was brutally murdered along with her boyfriend and his roommate in Columbus. This wasn't a good thing to find when trying to keep yourself from sobbing.

Tonight the neighbor couple is out of town, my friends from the dept are either chilling with the wife or writing a paper, I'm afraid to call Boy when I'm feeling this way & also because I don't want to smother him. I went to take the trash out and stopped by the other neighbor's place. His blinds were open and I could see that he had some friends (who I know) over. He stuck his nose out the door and told me he'd come upstairs in bit. He may as well have just told me he didn't want me hanging around. A moment ago, I saw them all get in the car & drive away.

I'm pathetic, really-- not only for letting myself play this stupid pity game, but for sitting here crying about it at 10pm on a Friday night... Let's hope tomorrow my hormones & self-doubt lead me in a different direction...

Gay men make the best girlfriends

2005-04-22T06:13:00.000-05:00

...That's what I always say.

hmmmm...It's early & I'm still trying to wake up. I planned to get up early today so I could sit outside in the morning while the sun shines on my balcony. Of course today is the first day in a week that the sun doesn't decide to shine. . .

I went to the dentist yesterday morning. I had braced myself for what was to come & how I would feel afterward. To my surprise--the encounter was much more tolerable this time. The dentist planned to take 2 hours for the 'procedure,' but he somehow finished in only an hour!! Even though I spent most of the rest of the day believing people were looking at me funny because half my face was entirely limp, I was really pleased. And now I'm half-way through all of the work! Whoopee!

After class, I ran into my buddy who is also a Classics grad student. He's great & I hadn't seen him in a while, so we made plans to hang out in the evening. I've recently lucked into having a friend's car for my personal use & he encourages me to use it anytime for anything. My awesome and very generous father told me I could spend some money on clothing--so I decided to go for a drive & go shopping. :-) Almost as soon as I got home, Boy stopped by to see me on his work break and then my buddy came over.

This friend of mine, let's call him G, became friends rather quickly & easily at the beginning of last semester; he had a similarly hard time adjusting here (he came from much farther away than I did.) He's gay and adorable and all around great. His courseload this semester is hectic, and since I pretty much avoid spending any time at all in the department lately, we hadn't seen each other for over a month. It was funny--he showed up & Boy was here. G & I were all excited to see one another and immediately talking very fast about Comparative/Historical Linguistics [[[why is it that Classics majors always have to be elitist & cultish when with another Classics major? We get together & talk about things that no one else knows or cares about in such a way as to blatantly exclude anyone who can't or doesn't care to participate--and think we're so smart & fabulous for doing so.]]] Anyway--it was funny, to me at least, because we were acting like such girls. Boy & I were sitting here just chilling, smoking a little and watching Charmed--G comes and suddenly there's such a commotion, loud voices exaggerating & giggling.

Boy went back to work and G & I sat outside talking until after 10. I'll be writing another post all about that conversation shortly...It was really wonderful--I needed to have some 'girl talk' with somebody very badly. I have only one female friend here & we're both the kind of chick who, wary of women, prefer the company of men. While she & I do have some girl-talk on occasion, we're still feeling each other out and don't discuss some things. But G & I had a wonderful time talking about boys & sex & clothes & food, and ultimately, the goings-on of the dept lately.

Gay men really do make the best girlfriends. You can talk about anything with them & they'll never steal your boyfriend or get mad at you for hitting on them. They'll tell you if you those pants make you look fat, honestly. They don't play petty mind games with women, usually, and in my experience are greatly less suspicious than women. Ha! My dad makes fun of me for having gay guys for so many of my closest friends (he's joking, of course)--- I guess because I'm not a girl's girl, and yet still not a tomboy, that we share similar social roles. No girl can ever truly be one of the guys, and I've certainly never felt like 'one of the girls'---gay men don't fit in the standard groups just as girls like me don't. {IMHO--I hate to generalize like this, but y'all probably understand what I'm saying. If I've offended anyone, it is unintentional & I apologize.}

So yesterday was a pretty terrific day...The one downer though, was that I learned that the other grad students got their teaching assignments for next year. I know that I'm not ready to teach my own class, and that after all the bullshit this semester it makes no sense for them to give me a class & in reality I'd much prefer to keep my position Writing Intensive Program because I enjoy it so much-->but it still hurt. I'm sad that I don't get to have my own class next year because I believed for so long that I would, and I know that I would have felt very proud to do it & proud to make my father proud of me. I'm having a really hard time putting how I feel about this into words. I'm not jealous, and the kids who did get classes deserve them--they'll be great teachers & I'm excited for them. At the same time, I just feel like I'm missing out on achieving/learning/do something I really believed I would not miss out on --that is, if shit hadn't gone down as it has this semester. . . Another part of my naive dream that is painful to let go of.

Ah well--the sun seems to be showing herself...I think I'll go outside & read some Dante...

Quo vado? (or: Intimacy--that's a big word)

2005-04-19T19:37:00.000-05:00

I wondered today if I had any loyal readers, and if I do, were they wondering where I went? Sorry guys--I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for the past week. In fact, I just checked my email for the first time in a week!! I usually check my email about 5 times a day--so that says a lot.

I don't really know what's been wrong with me. I think I'm kind of depressed, or stressed-out, about the end of the semester and the fact that I have no idea what to do afterward. On the other hand, I'm not unhappy, and really I'm only worried about that one thing...I guess my future is kind of a big thing to worry about. :-) Now I'll just continue what I had been doing--and just try not to think about it while going on with the rest of my life.

I had my first really terrible encounter with the dentist last week. I have another appointment on Thursday. Yuck.

Boy stayed over mid-week last week, and we spent the weekend together. I've decided that because I like how things are progressing, I'm not going to hurry to analyze or obsess over anything that he says/does. Right now, I'm happy with him and our relationship, and he seems to be so as well--so I suppose it's only causing me grief to worry about what he's thinking about things.

However--(ha!)
Saturday night, we were laying in bed, having just finished our cigarettes (you know the scene.) and he was touching me softly in this really amazing way.
I said, "This feels wonderful."
He replied, "Yeah, I like the intimacy of it."
And I said, "Intimacy--that's a big word."

I don't know what the fuck I was thinking or what I expected him to say to such a remark. I didn't say it nicely, either. It's like I was asking for trouble. He said something about physical vs. emotional intimacy--I ruined our nice moment...but, fortunately not for long...

Now, I've got some emails to write to my professors explaining where I've been for the past week. O Joy! fuck....