There's A Field Where The Crops No Longer Grow

I feel like I've been half-asleep all day, so I'm listening to Flogging Molly (right now it's "Screaming at the Wailing Wall") to get my energy level above that of a corpse.

Dance Band is playing the Triple Rock tonight at approximately 11 PM and they think you should be there. $5 cover, 21+. All the cool kids will be there dressed as Hot Topic goths for Revolver_Modele, and who doesn't want to see that?

Last night I fell asleep fully clothed, glasses on, lights on, TV blaring, and I didn't wake up to fix all that until 5 AM. I think this week was just exhausting.

My mom sent me pictures of my uncle and my grandma today and I'd forgotten what they both looked like. I haven't seen my grandma in a while but I haven't seen my uncle in a number of years. At least 6 years and maybe much, much longer. When I was a kid he had an awesome handlebar mustache that he curled with mustache wax so it made little curlicues at both ends, and now that we're both older it's grown past his chin but he still curls it and he looks like my dad if my dad were a circus strongman. The effect is very disconcerting, but admirable.

A Cry For Something Other Than Attention

I'm reaching out to the internet for major life advice. I have to register for classes for this summer, see, and one of them has to be Intro to Public Speaking which makes me want to kill myself but that's not the issue here. Intro to Hell is only 3 credits, and I need 6 to get financial aid, so I need to take another class. I narrowed it down to three options and then I hit a wall.

Option #1: Beginning Russian
This class would allow me to learn Russian, which I want to do, but I'm currently in a crisis about leaving the country so this might end up being remarkably difficult and not useful in the end. Also it's Monday through Friday at 8:00 AM. On the other hand, this might be the only opportunity I get to take Russian.

Option #2: Sculpture
Pro: I need a creative outlet or this will end in a killing spree. It doesn't conflict with my work schedule leaving me free to make money that I desperately need. It's only 2 days a week (Monday and Wednesday). Also it doesn't require a lot of the brain power and it's the fun choice.
Con: It's a four-hour studio class that ends at 10:00 PM. It also conflicts with Public Torture so I would have to take that on Tuesday and Thursday nights resulting in four nights of night classes per week. It's also just about the least useful credits I could take.

Option #3: Statistical Analysis
Pro: I'm going to have to take it sometime to beef up my application to the Master's in Public Health programs, so I might as well take it in the summer when I have time to concentrate on it. Of these options it's the only one that would be for more than personal pleasure. It's the responsible choice.
Con: It's four days a week in the mid-morning. Also I'd have to spend my whole summer doing math. And it conflicts with my work schedule, which would take some massaging.

So, basically, help. What would you do?

Definitions Are Synonyms

A Number One: Marie totally tried to kill me on her bicycle today. Actually, that may have been my fault. But still, disaster.

I had back-to-back presentations in two classes today, and if you know me, you know I have a pathological fear of public speaking. So I was running very high on stress all day and when I finally escaped and headed home, I had the shakes so bad I could barely walk. I shopped for someone to enjoy a drink or two with me but everyone simultaneously failed, so I had a very strong vodka tonic with my dinner of Thai food and New York Super Fudge Chunk ice cream. I'm feeling less like straight up dying, but I might be a little intoxicated.

My contacts are irritating me but I don't want to get up and go far enough to take them out.

I've been living inside Thom Yorke's solo album lately. Again.

Eesh. You probably should have come over.

This Is About Music

Apparently, the National Association of Recording Merchandisers, in association with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, have come up with the "definitive" list of the 200 albums every music lover must own or why bother living anymore? The list, known by the absolutely witty name "The Definitive 200" can be found here. As you can see, it is a "definitive" list of (almost) 200 horribly commercial compilations of absolute dreck. And a few good albums, like Prince's 1999, which is genius. As best as I can tell, the National Association of Recording Merchandisers (NARM) are the guys that sell officially-licensed t-shirts and posters that you can buy at Spencer's Gifts when you're 13. So, clearly the voice of authority here.

I paged through the list and realized with growing embarrassment that I own or have owned thirteen (13) albums that made it into this marketing ploy (COMPLETE YOUR COLLECTION! trumpets the home page.) And because I'm a believer in bringing my shame to the masses, here they are:

#5: U2, The Joshua Tree (1987). I got it for my birthday in approximately 1993. On cassette tape. Honestly, not that bad of an album. It was before Bono got those sunglasses.

#26: Alanis Morissette, Jagged Little Pill (1995). I'm not going to lie to you here, I still have this and I've listened to it sometime in the last year or so. Sometimes we all question whether she will go down on you in a theater.

#28: Eminem, The Marshall Mathers LP (2000). This was on my hard drive until my computer crashed. I am a closet Eminem fan. Even though, as a feminist and a gay rights activist, officially I'm offended.

#48: Dave Matthews Band, Crash (1998). This was an honest mistake. I owned Under the Table and Dreaming on cassette tape and I had listened to it so often it wore out and I had to re-buy it. When Crash came out I was expecting more of the same inaccessible, dissonant, violin-heavy alternative rock that I had grown to love. Instead I got Dave Matthews groaning on and on about some girl hiking up her dress over made-for-the-masses, inoffensive guitar and drum work. I have never felt so deeply betrayed by an album or an artist than I did by this album and artist. That was nearly 10 years ago and I would still cross the street to spit on Dave Matthews. That bastard.

#61: Green Day, American Idiot (2004). In spite of massive overexposure and Billy Joe holding himself up as the new Neil Young, I still like this album. It also disappeared when my hard drive crashed, and I miss it.

#63: Eminem, The Eminem Show (2000). You might as well know the whole truth--I had all the Eminem albums. They're gone now, and if I had the ability to download, I'd have them all back.

#64: Jewel, Pieces of You (1995). I'm sorry, everyone.

#91: Matchbox 20, Yourself or Someone Like You (1996). Honestly, Matchbox 20 is another totally guilty pleasure. I like this album, or I did before it joined the rest of my data files in Rock 'n' Roll Hell. I would go so far as to say I loved parts of it, like "Long Day." Rob Thomas has an easy-to-emulate accent that I find irresistible.

#92: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Californication (1999). I guess I'm a sucker for harmony and Anthony Kiedis' sweet tattoos.

#99: Soundtrack, Dirty Dancing (1987). C'mon, if you didn't own this, you should have. Patrick Swayze sings "She's Like The Wind."

#111: Radiohead, OK Computer (1997). Still one of the best albums ever made. Has credibility no matter what list it's on.

#130: Soundtrack, O Brother Where Art Thou? (2000). Good stuff.

#159: Boyz II Men, Cooleyhighharmony (1993). I guarantee I had this album on cassette because I slow danced to "End Of the Road" for my first dance in junior high.

There are a lot of other albums on this horror show that I owned part or most of, or that someone I lived with owned so I got a lot of exposure to it (for examples, I had part of the Smashing Pumpkins Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and my mom had all of the Simon and Garfunkel albums.) Thank you for joining me in this exercise in disappointment and nostalgia, which are often the same thing.

Nice Head

Oh, and I saw Marie TWICE yesterday and it was CRAZY.

Tiny Giants Made Of Tinier Giants

The Wild lost in a shootout, but I sure did all I could do, as I was leaning as close to the TV as possible and screeching and screeching at them. Intensity, that's why I love the NHL.

Night class tonight was a downer even though we got out early because the PowerPoint projector was broken. We watched a video that included a recording of a 911 call made by a woman as a man was breaking into her house and then raping her. It was not my favorite and it solidified my decision to never, ever become a 911 operator.

I have two presentations due on Thursday, neither of which I want to do, and a paper to write for one of them which I haven't started. My Parent-Child Relationships instructor decided to give us all a chiding about how in Real Life, we often need to do small-group work and cooperate with others. To which I say, I've tried Real Life, it requires very little cooperation unless you're into being nice to people, and it certainly doesn't resemble trying to assemble a group presentation on a topic you care little to nothing about with a bunch of people who never come to class (including you.) On a related note, I finally broke down and emailed one of the girls in my Alcohol and Drug Therapy group to say that I had no idea who was in the group at all and if she wanted me to participate she was going to have to flag me down. Luckily she said she'd been skipping class a lot also and she didn't know who was in our group either, which made me feel like less of a failure. We managed to find each other for the meeting and actually, that presentation is probably going to go pretty well. We all sent our info to one girl who put together PowerPoint slides that are fantastic, and I only have to talk for like 2 minutes and I'm pretty much just going to read my slides. So it could be worse. I guess the point is, I hate small-group work so much. I'm not a cooperative learner, or really a cooperative person in general, so this semester is pretty much designed to fill me with impotent rage.

I got my midterm back in Intro to Child Maltreatment and I somehow got a 14/15 which was spectacularly unexpected.

And finally, some guy had a schizoid freakout on my bus today and started yelling at us that he needed to motivate the college punks and then ended by shouting "BIG 10! NCAA!" a few times before he ran out the door. I don't know about the rest of you punks, but I'm pretty motivated.

Records From That Era Are Spotty At Best

15 minutes of work left so I'm getting paid to blog. Or at least to artfully look like I'm not blogging.

Today is so gorgeous, I almost didn't go back to work after lunch. I desperately wish I owned a bike.

I'm listening to "The Decision" by The Young Knives and it will probably be stuck in my head all day. If all else fails, I'm the Prince of Wales. My package from Amazon with all the magic and glory of new music likely won't get here until next week which is hardly fair at all.

I need gum or you need to stand back.

I told my mom I was going to come visit her in the summer and she almost cried. I haven't been there in a while and I'm pretty excited. An acre and a half of land, mostly old growth forest, on an island in the Puget Sound with Seattle a short drive away, and food and lodging is free? I told her it sounds like some sort of paradise. She assures me that it is. Also, somewhere in their patch of forest they have a rope swing. If only they had a treehouse, I'd never leave.

I have so much homework to do this week. Let's all drop out of school and become pirates. I know you, you look like you could swashbuckle.

Try To Build A Wall That Is High Enough

I was in a mood last night until I drank gin with 7-Up and chased it with strawberries and chocolate fondue, V For Vendetta, and time with people I utterly love. Also, the Zack Galifianakis show was hilarious. Greg Fitzsimmons opened for him, and I am a comedy whore who has been in love with Greg Fitzsimmons for like 10 years, so it was like the Superbowl for me. Also some girl I'd never heard of opened and she bombed in a spectacular way, I wanted to heckle her and that's not like me at all.

I'm in for round 2 on the dating scene and it looks like this one is going my way. In a high school way because that's how I'm playing it, I asked someone out via Facebook, and I've gotten a decent response. Welcome to the world of tomorrow.

I'm rapturously listening to this Thom Yorke album over and over again. It reminds me of London and that kind of makes me sad. I miss all the time I spent on the Tube. I felt like such an adult, scooting myself around the big foreign city and walking with confidence even when I didn't know where I was going. And sneering at tourists who stood on the wrong side of the escalator. Wankers.

My mom got out of the hospital today and that will improve this upcoming week.

I got a much-needed hug the other day. Where are the huggers in my life anymore? I just know people who don't like to be touched, which I have trouble navigating because I can't get enough of the touching. Well, from a limited population.

My Friends, My Habits, My Family

I default to self-destructive whenever I don't get my way, so I think you should recognize how much I'm doing to keep this on time and on track, but the line between fantasy and reality for me is less a line than a value change. I don't express myself in art but I do express myself in contemplation, turning it back on you with anger and then kicking myself to death. I'm not a dancer but I know the twist, I can see this coming but I'm standing in front of it waving my arms like you're the one who's going to turn. I don't love you but I know you. I've got the third-best seat in the house but the surcharge cost more than the ticket. Bring the lights up so I can see where I went wrong. You stopped looking me in the eye and now I'm not sure what I saw. Eyewitness accounts are the least reliable, they said. Everybody lies even when it doesn't matter. I need to disappear for a while and you need to remember how to miss me. I'm not crazy enough to see what I've done, I need you to remind me casually.

Why Can't We Bring Frumpy Back?

I managed to run home after work and tear that one wonky contact out AND put on a skirt so I could go out, and still make it to the Onion offices on time. Well, sort of on time. They told me I could be there as late as 5:30, and I showed up at 5:15, but all the lights were off and nobody was at the reception desk. There was one guy there talking on the phone in an office around the corner, and he couldn't really see me, so I hovered around the desk for a minute and then I peered over it and realized my tickets were there clipped to a list of people that were supposed to pick them up, so I took them and checked off my name and then ran away. I was afraid that guy in the office would come running out and accuse me of stealing them, because that's sure what it looked like I was doing.

Also, I had a great bus driver that I was chatting with because A) I didn't know where I was going and B) I was the only one on the bus. He recommended I read "Confessions of an Economic Hitman" which sounded interesting and talks about the crimes of the World Bank and the IMF, so I probably will.

Lila and I checked out Pi, the new lesbian bar in the Seward neighborhood. I begged Carissa to come with so I would have someone to drink with, but she opted to stay behind and work on her boyfriend problems. Then I begged Kari and The Chop to come but they were broke, so I ended up sitting sober in a lesbian bar that was playing the greatest hits of Justin Timberlake. I wasn't having fun, even though Young Bill was there (drunk), until Meghan turned up and we decided to bail out and go eat a late-night carb fest at Pizza Luce. Now I've got eggplant breath, but it's all gonna be alright.

Also, I had chinese food at Ping's (downtown, on Nicollet, near the convention center--it's got the garish pink awning) for dinner and it was no less than succulent. A little on the high-priced side but worth the money, if you like your food delicious.

I've stopped going to my volunteer duties. I just can't make myself get up at 6:30 in the morning every Saturday to spend three hours sitting around not helping anyone. I still believe in the cause or whatever, but working with people is not for me.

This Is Less About Us, More About The Funk

I'm trapped in an opthamalogical nightmare, as the temporary contacts that my eye doctor gave me apparently aren't correcting vision problems I actually have, so I have to strain to see everything and even then it's blurry or doubled or just oddly haloed. It's similar to how everything looked when I got that concussion that time I fell down my basement stairs. I wouldn't have worn them except that one eye is just fine, the other one is screwed up, and I thought maybe the kinks would work themselves out. But instead I just have a headache.

I won tickets from the Onion to see Zach Galifianakis for free at the Pantages tomorrow night and I'm pretty excited. For me and my +1, that's a good $50 worth of free entertainment right there.

I went on a shopping spree on Amazon a couple days ago and I want my packages to get here already. I bought the following:

*We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank (Modest Mouse) (I want this album so much it hurts)
*Robbers & Cowards (Cold War Kids)
*Neon Bible (Arcade Fire) (I pretty much bought this for the remake of No Cars Go which is unbelievable)
*The Crane Wife (The Decemberists) (it's embarrassing how long I've gone without owning this)
*The Good, The Bad, and The Queen (The Good, The Bad, and The Queen)

I should have bought the new Ted Leo and the new Bloc Party, but I spent the rest of my budget buying that last textbook I was trying to get away with not having. The requirements for the class changed and now I have to start writing papers that cite the book, so I can't get away with it anymore. On the plus side, I pulled out a B on the midterm anyway.

It is so hot in my office that I can hardly breathe. Once again I'm the only one who showed up today, so I've been blasting the Current with the window open, so I hope the rest of the medical complex enjoys that.

Oh god, my eyes.

Let The Sun Shine In

After several class sessions of my research methods professor freaking out on all of us for how badly we all did on the last assignment, I got it back today and I aced it. So, I win.

Dwight from The Office was a suspect in a rape on Law and Order: SVU and it made me feel weird, but the nice part was that at least he wasn't playing the necrophiliac in the same episode. I couldn't reconcile myself to that.

I'm too cranky to go back to class but I think I've run out of options here. I'm serious when I say I'd like to abort this semester and start fresh in the fall, but I can't afford it. At least my grade for that horrible distance learning class finally went through, bumping my cumulative GPA to a 3.846 and giving me a little room in which to fail.

I'm waffling on my commitment to the Peace Corps, in part because I feel like I have a good thing going here and I'm afraid to leave it, and in part because working directly with people does not speak to my strengths. I've got a whole future to fill and very little to put in it.

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys

I had to skip three of my four classes today because I almost passed out halfway through my morning class because I still have a fever and I'm dizzy. I'm so going to fail this semester just on legitimate absences. My lungs hurt and I can't stop the coughing, which also makes me want to pass out. I can't go to work tomorrow and I can't really afford not to so it's all a rich tapestry. And I have a test tomorrow night that I absolutely have to take even though I'm likely not going to do well because I can't concentrate on anything. Can I drop out of school yet? I'd like to go home and check on my mom, anyway. She's in bad shape, she's got something serious enough that the hospital quarantined her and she said she feels like E.T. because they all have protective clothing when they come see her. At least she has a phone.

It's not so easy to keep trucking in the face of disasters. We can't even say "At least we've got our health."

Sorry this blog is such a downer. For the one or so person that reads it, I mean. I'd throw some humor in but I think I coughed it up. You read it, you can't unread it. I'd recommend watching, say, the Colbert Report and just pretending it's me talking, so you can still think of me as funny. Stephen Colbert is the brilliance.

This Week Is Not Starting Out Well

My mom is in the hospital. And they don't know what's wrong with her. And they don't know when she's getting out. And I'm 1800 miles away. And I have the flu.

Take That, White America

Since it appears that my Bonaroo dreams will be forever frustrated, I'm looking into going to Lollapalooza instead (2007 will not get over before I sit in the mud and listen to music, dammit.) The problem with Lollapalooza is that the only confirmed headliner is Pearl Jam, and it's not 1993, so I don't care anymore.

Spring Break was a bust but I'd like more vacation, please.

Here's the take-home lesson from Spring Break 2007: James Avery, the actor who played the father on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, also provided the voice of Shredder in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons. Chew that one over and see what it does to your childhood.

I just took a seven minute break to stare vacantly at the wall. I seriously can't believe I'm sick again. I really think I've been sick more frequently in the last year or so than I have for a long time. I'm having a lot of lung problems and it kind of makes me sad that I quit smoking if I was going to have respiratory problems anyway. I loved smoking. I started smoking when I was 15 because I thought it would make me look like a badass, and I was totally right. Plus it gave me something to do with my hands and an automatic opening line to talk to anyone. It's unbelievably easy to meet people when you smoke. Probably even easier now that it's banned in the bars so you all have to huddle up. Course, now that it's banned in bars, it's less useful as a tool to keep me from embarrassing myself on the dance floor ("oh, can't dance, I'm smoking and it's crowded out there.") Now I'm out there shaking my babymaker and you're trying to slink away.

Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta

Sick again. Fever, coughing, sore throat, general lethargy. Lame.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day to my Irish brothers and sisters. Home Rule Is The Only Rule, Eire Forever!

I Want To Work For Perverted Justice

Here's a note about the television programming available at 3:00 AM on a Friday: at least three channels are showing the Girls Gone Wild infomercial, and MSNBC is showing To Catch A Predator.

Apparently beer aggravates my uterus wanting to shatter.

Chad and Dan and I made Russian rye bread and then watched Constantine. Simple things are often the best things.

I've been writing in bulletins lately. I don't think in paragraphs anymore, just bullet points. It's the American Way.

Remember when you used to call me at 2 in the morning to tell me that you loved me? What happened to that? I still like to hear it.

I'll Believe In Anything and You'll Believe In Anything

Apologies To The Queen Mary is still one of the greatest albums ever made.

I am having a hardcore PMS freakout and I apologize. I seriously almost cried on the bus. I wouldn't have been fun to hang out with anyway.

I got my contact lens problem resolved. I got my tax refund. I got the hard part of that welfare paper done. I got groceries, I won't starve. I got that duck. I got Wolf Parade. I got you, I still got you. I still got that.

We'll work it out, just not today.

Remember When I Was A Priority?

This is what I got. My ovaries are broken, I've got the hot flashes, I'm hungry, and it's all bad news from your corner. A little reassurance doesn't seem like too much but instead I get "I don't know I don't know." Days and nights like this it's real easy to wish one of us was dead.

I Miss My Dogs

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I don't feel good.

To make me feel better, I just finished eating a load of delicious antipasto and now I'm watching There's Something About Mary.

I need a hug.

Pretty Sure That's Life Slapping Me In The Face

Oh, and, I just found out that the guy who lived next door to me in the dorms my freshman year at Hamline is

A) Married
B) Working in a crime lab as a forensic specialist, and
C) A City Councilman in Elk River.

Meanwhile, I spent last night drinking and listening to Nine Inch Nails.

I'm so behind in the timeline.

I'm Not Drunk Enough To Take That Bait

Blergh.

I was up until 6:30 AM and I had to be at work at 11. I was drunk until 6:30 AM, is what I meant to say. Also, Robby passed out on my living room floor, apparently, and my roommate laughed about it pretty hard this morning.

I have mostly accomplished the Herculean task I took on at work that involves learning how to use Microsoft Publisher with absolutely no instruction or previous exposure. I just need to clean up a few things and my publication is complete. I wish my head didn't hurt when I was trying to squint at it, though.

Last night's Year Zero listening party was not as disappointing as I'd assumed. Also, I discovered that Nordin is a square (..."discovered.") A total L7, you know. I'm pretty over other people getting on my nerves at this point. You are all hereby formally indicted.

I pretty much need to run errands tomorrow, which is less fun than previously advertised. I wish Spring Break was a real vacation.

My boss was eating roast beef with mashed potatoes and carrots for lunch and I was overwhelmed by a longing to go visit my Mom. She's the best cook ever, so if you're lucky I'll take you with me. She and my Dad are supposed to be moving into that house they bought on that island in the Puget Sound this week. They have an acre and a half of land that's largely old growth forest, and it's 10 minutes from the water. I haven't seen them since Christmas of 2005, and I'm starting to get sad about it.

In The Future, Forever, Until You Die

I almost died at the Faint because apparently no one there had ever been to a concert before. Kids were throwing their drinks, glass bottles, upchuck, etc onto the floor and then moshing in it and I got thrown to a wet spot and went down. I bounced back up but I had to get out of there before someone stepped on my neck. I spent the rest of the show upstairs where no one was getting dangerous. I did not like that. The Faint, however, put on a fantastic show.

Apparently I have to go to an initiation ceremony for something next week and I'm a little freaked out by that notion.

I have been extremely productive in the few hours that I have been awake. First thing, I dyed my hair and then shaved my legs, and then I did laundry and cleaned my room because I think I actually live in a pig sty. My mother was right. And I listened to Wolf Parade and the The Dead Science, which is great cleaning music all around and through and through. I cleaned the living room last night because Robby came over and I don't want to scare him off of living with me by letting him see the way the mail and the magazines pile up.

I have to go to the welfare office sometime this week. Also, hopefully the dental clinic at Moos. Also, hopefully the eyeglasses store. I'm trying to cram all the pending errands I have had hanging over my head for the semester into this week. At least I only have one more day of work.

Damn, I just realized I have to work tomorrow and I was planning on getting rowdy tonight.

Zombies. That's What We Got.

Today was such a waste of time. Except the Wild won the Wild vs. Avalanche game in the last bit of overtime and it was GREAT. The play-by-play announcer actually screamed "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAALLLLL!" I wanted to riot.

Tomorrow I have to work and then go see The Faint.

I need to do some laundry.

I can't decide if I should be more honest or less. Where's the line anymore?

I've been stuck in this purgatory for so long, I can't get out, I can't get out.

We're Here, We're Queer, We Don't Want Any More Bears

Apparently when I post my plans here, that pretty much guarantees I won't get around to accomplishing them. I made it to Nye's--when we didn't have a table after nearly an hour and a half, I left, decided tonight was not the night for the lesbian bar, and came home to talk to Susan for four hours. The take-home message from our conversation: Americans have trouble grasping the concept that they can NEVER get what they want, which is why so many girls fall in love with gay men.

Remember that Spring Break a couple years ago when I celebrated not having class by eating 26 Krispy Kreme donuts in two days? You probably don't realize it but I've lost a lot of weight since then. On the other hand, I would really enjoy some Krispy Kremes.

I have so many bills to pay and so many things to buy. The classic dilemma, yes?

Everything Is One Hair From Being Askew

Usually I'm not bothered by not having a car, but tonight's festivities are dragging me all over town by bus and that is aggravating. I have to meet some people at Nye's, but we're probably not staying there because nobody I know knows how to make timely reservations. And I don't think I'll fit in the car from there to wherever we end up. After that, I'm trekking out to Pi, the new lesbian bar out in the Seward neighborhood (the name is saucy, you see.) Then it's a matter of getting home while the buses are still running, which on a Saturday night is always a gamble. And people wonder why sometimes we just want to stay home and rent a movie.

I'm extremely tempted not to get dressed up for this and go in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt, which is what I wore to class today. I also opted to skip the snow boots and consequently I pinwheeled my arms all the way down the sidewalk in a desperate attempt not to fall face first into the dirty slushy ice. This morning was a frozen wasteland. I hope it's better tonight.

I can't stop listening to Cold War Kids or Modest Mouse. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I think it speaks to where I am in life.

It's Just An Eye--God Saw Fit To Grant Me A Spare

Last night I went to the midnight opening of 300 at Southdale with the Brothers Cecil. For a movie entirely about killing people in slow motion, it was pretty good. Visually it is like nothing I've ever seen, but in a positive way. On the other hand, the plot is thin and the rather effeminate casting on Xerxes made everyone feel a little uncomfortable. But if you're looking for uncomfortable, 300 is your movie.

An unfortunate side effect of being out until 2:30 AM and then getting up at 8:30 AM is that I am so, so tired. When my alarm went off this morning I couldn't remember why I would have set it, and then when it occurred to me that I had to get up to go to work, I was too tired to move my arms and legs and it took me nearly 15 minutes to summon up the willpower to roll out of bed. I can usually take a six-hour night with style and grace, but I haven't been sleeping well lately and I'm building up a cache of hours of sleep that I've missed.

When I got back to my building at 2:30 I got in the elevator with three guys who had also just come from seeing 300. I was definitely wearing a Borat t-shirt (it was free, you know...I have two. I'm so ashamed.) Right when I got on one guy said "B-B-B-Borat?" And I said, "Uh, yeah, I guess so." And he said, "I hate those filthy Jews." And then everyone in the elevator sort of froze. That guy sucks.

I've got "Survivalism" stuck in my head. Year Zero listening party at the Varsity on Tuesday and I'm clearly going. I'm in too deep now.

Correlation Is Not Causation

I am clearly going to fail my midterm tomorrow morning. I tried studying but without the textbook it's pretty much all for naught. I'm gambling heavily on the questions asked being the two or three questions I know the answers to, and that's not a safe bet.

Chad and I went grocery shopping and then stopped by one of those dive bars on Como for a beer and a discussion about our interpersonal failings. I don't see enough of Chad and I'm going to be pretty upset when he graduates and leaves me here.

I hate Wednesdays. I always have. My worst days are Wednesdays.

Daylight savings is coming up. Mind yourselves.

I need somebody else in this thing with me.

Eat It, Everyone Who's Never Won A Nobel Prize

The show Scrubs makes me cry every time.

I have to go to work and I didn't sleep well.

I hate not getting what I want, and then I really hate not getting what I'll settle for.

My God it's hot in here.

Cheaper By the Goddamned Dozen

I'm listening to At the Drive-In and I'm not seeing what the big deal is. Also, I have a headache, but I'm pretty sure it's not cause and effect.

Midterm tonight in Intro to Child Maltreatment went poorly. Poorly. And it was open-book, open-note, and you could collaborate with others. I chose to collaborate with people who didn't know the answers, apparently. At least it's only 15% of my grade.

I got that paper back that I was supposed to write about an AA meeting that I was supposed to have gone to, but instead I stayed at home and filled the paper with half-truths and knowledge I cobbled together from memory and mass media, and the saddest part is that I got an A. Plus. Sorry.

I've fallen off the health food wagon and right into the back of the waiting junk food truck, net result = I Don't Feel Good. There's a scene in the movie Parenthood where Steve Martin asks his young daughter, who has eaten too many hot dogs, if she feels like she wants to throw up, and she answers "Okay" and then vomits all over him. This is not really related but it makes me laugh.

This Will Blow Over In Time

Tuesday. Ain't gonna be good for either one of us.

I love a grinding piano.

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

One day I will realize that my attempts at dating are so futile as to be self-destructive. Actually, I already realized that, which is why I've been alone as long as you've known me.

I
am
so tired
of this.

Memory Lane Is A Roundabout, You Know

It occurred to me the other day that I was the weird kid in elementary school. Think back on your elementary school days (if you weren't homeschooled like a surprisingly large demographic of people that I know) to those kids that were either balls-to-the-wall crazy or just creepy weird, and you've got me, although I sure didn't realize it at the time. Some highlights from the psychosis of my youth:

*In sixth grade I circulated a petition to have this kid that nobody else liked removed from our school. Everyone in the class signed it and then I made a (to me) very compelling presentation to the teacher in which I argued that if we all hated him so much, he was an unnecessary distraction and should be sent away. I distinctly remember my teacher laughing so hard he choked.

*Also in sixth grade, our teacher tried to teach us about the merits of a free-market system by rewarding us for good grades and behavior with fake money, which we could use every week in an auction to buy candy or other stupid kid crap. I formed a cooperative with several interested parties, pooled our resources, and then tried to purchase four square feet of floor space in front of the classroom door and charge the other kids rent for walking on it, thereby taking all of the money (and consequently, candy) for ourselves. We would have been successful if the teacher would have been willing to play ball. We even offered him a cut of our fake Monopoly money, but we were shut down by the system and its anti-monopoly laws.

*In fifth grade my teacher decided to teach us public speaking. I had a very pronounced lisp for which I attended speech therapy three times a week and the kids still called me Daffy Duck. I did not feel that I needed to learn public speaking at that time (or ever.) So, my time came up. My teacher told me to go to the front of the class, stand with my back to the class, and compose an impromptu speech about the scariest dream I ever had. I stood with my back to the class for the full five minutes and all I thought about was how much I was clearly not going to be giving any speech. She told me to turn around and start speaking, and I opted to turn around and glare at her for a whole two minutes of awkward silence before she said "You're not leaving the front of the room until you give your speech," at which point I gave a legendary speech that went exactly like this:

"Fuck you."

And then I left the classroom and locked myself in the bathroom for half an hour or so, until they figured out where I was and came to get me.

*Also in fifth grade, my friend Jenny and I decided to run away, so we wrote the class a letter about how they would appreciate us when we were gone, and then we threw our backpacks over the chain-link fence, scaled it, and took off. We got about two blocks before Jenny panicked and went back, and I didn't want to be out there alone, so I went back with her, but it was too late and our horribly dramatic letter had already been read to the class. It took a while to live this one down. Actually, it's probably a good thing I moved away not too long after that, or it might still be following me.

*This is all in addition to the constant playground fights, name calling, and hysterics. I was both dramatic and morbid and just before I moved out of California I told my classmates that I had "a little bit" of lung cancer and that I needed to leave school to get treated. I hope some of them eventually figured out that wasn't true.

I'd like to say that once we moved away and I got older I calmed down, but that's just a lie, I was a basket case all the way through K-12. And my first year of college. You know, if this ever reaches anyone that knew me ages 5-22, I'd like to apologize to you. Thanks for not calling the police.

Basilisk: The Scorpion King

I'm trying to get distance and then you come right out and say something I've needed you to say for years. Tailspin, tailspin, tailspin.

It's midterms week and I have midterms in the two classes in which I have completely and utterly dropped the ball. In one of them I haven't done any of the reading at all, and the midterm requires us to cite our sources. The good news on that one is that it's only worth about 15% of our grade, and I've been doing fine on the assignments so I should be alright. Unfortunately, the other class is one that I've neither attended on a regular basis nor ever bought the book for. I think I may just up and fail on that one. Oops.

On the plus side, I wrote the majority of my paper that's due on Wednesday tonight. I kept my head down and powered through even when I had the writer's block, which is unlike me. So today wasn't a total wash. I also cleaned the bathroom but that was more about procrastination than productivity.

Once again I'm having chest pains. Makenzi suggested that I might have asthma. I think I'm just losing my mind.

Last night I went to Chad's and drank Killian's Irish Red and watched season 2 of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon, so I'm pretty sure I had a better night than you.

I Love The Term "Johnny-On-the-Spot"

I filed my taxes today and the money I'm getting back will be enough to pay off the bills I racked up when I didn't have health insurance. This is a good story.

The movie Frequency is probably one of the best movies that was ever really poorly marketed. When it came out a few years back, it looked like a heartwarmingly fluffy story about a man reconnecting with his dead father through the magic of a HAM radio. What it's actually about is serial killing and Dennis Quaid being a total fucking badass. You should probably give it a chance.

You can't conceive of how tired I am. I don't understand last night, because I did the tally this morning and I had two gin and tonics, five Jello shots and a beer and I was practically sober when I left. I think something was up with those Jello shots because I should have been flat to floor by that point. Chad walked me home and he was in the same boat, and we'd been taking those shots down like champs all night. So, I don't know. But I was up late and got up at 7 to get to my community obligations. I looked totally wrecked when I got up--bloodshot eyes and a thousand-yard stare and the best I could do was put on the clothes I was wearing last night. Then I tried to get on the bus and halfway down University I realized with horror that I was on the 6 and I meant to be on the 2. Then I fell into a snowbank in my scramble to get between the 6 and the 2 before I lost the plot. Great day, great day.

Back to watching cartoons and trying to get a handle on being awake.

I Just Wanted To Catch The Last Laugh Of The Show

Right now I'm listening to Cold War Kids' "We Used To Vacation," because somebody came through and sent it to me. I highly recommend it if you're into songs about alcoholism.

I was out until 2:30 AM and, let's look at the time here...yep, it's only 7:30. If you look closely, everything I do is a mistake. I was at Leslie's birthday party, which started at the Loring and then moved to Jello shots at Jayme's. It was extremely fun. I got to see Ashley for the first time in approximately a year, see Makenzi for the first time in this country, and meet a couple new people whose company was pretty enjoyable. Plus hang out with Chad, Charlie, Leslie, Dan and Jayme, which was my entire social life for so long and I've kind of missed it. Jayme and I were like "We have to make an effort to see each other more often" which we've been saying for nearly our entire friendship.

The takeaway point of this paragraph is that I don't feel good and it's very early. Also that I can't go back to sleep until after noon and I'm not good at napping. Tends to ruin my whole day.

If you've been reading this, and you haven't, you'll notice that it's been a while since I posted anything about getting hurt. I can't tell if I've been having a run of good luck or if I've just stopped noticing. Maybe I've replaced "I'm hurt" with "I'm sick." Gotta have a defining characteristic, you know.

The temptation to fall over and go back to sleep is almost overwhelming. I wish I didn't care enough to do the things I do.

And You're Mary Tyler Moore

If anyone has a copy of the song "We Used to Vacation" by Cold War Kids, I would really like it if you passed that on to me. I'm having firewall problems that I don't know how to fix, so actually I guess you could fix those and it would be tantamount to giving me the song. Point is, good song.

I just ate an enormous amount of pasta with asparagus, grape tomatoes, soy nuts, and feta with a olive oil-vinegar-lemon juice dressing. It was delicious, but I ate too much.

I wonder if my CD came yet? I should go downstairs and check the mail. I need to change out of this grubby shirt that I dropped oily asparagus on first, I guess.

In case you hadn't gotten the message, I didn't go to any of my classes today. Turns out here in Minneapolis we're pretty much having a blizzard. It's pretty neat, coming as I do from a snowless childhood.