too real 4 u :: blue-roof :: summer 2007
Slightly Underhanded 

Listening to: "Maggie's Farm" - Solomon Burke

A bunch of stuff has happened since I got back state-side. If you read this blog with any regularity, you probably know me well enough to know that Jimmy and I recently broke up. I think it's been a couple weeks now. To be as fair as possible, it wasn't nearly as traumatic as it could have been. It turns out that he just doesn't have time for me, which, while a harsh reality I wasn't quite prepared to face at the time, is a perfectly viable excuse to end a relationship.

Now, on to the craziness. Remember this?:
I've heard being single in one's late twenties can be a bit nerve-wracking, and he doesn't seem to have any romantic prospects on the immediate horizon. I mean, apparently he's been bitched out for flirting with me(?!) a few times before, but as attractive and wonderful as I think Ryan is, I'm happily involved with someone else right now, and that rumor is largely unfounded seeing as I'm about as flirtatious as a retarded 50-day-old puppy.
Uh, yeah. I guess I could have said it came out of nowhere but it really didn't. To realize and finally understand that the connection I have with him is of a mutually romantic nature is extremely comforting, and this past week has been amazing. He's been moving, so that's been a bit hectic, but he's somehow found the means and time to shower me with a lot of positive attention.

It's the shortest time I've spent single, and I'll probably need a lot more time to reflect on my relationship with Jimmy and its swift degradation. It's not a process I want to repeat, because as fickle as getting into another relationship this quickly makes me seem, I honestly thought for a while there that Jimmy and I were going to be a good stable pair for a long time -- and to have to come out of that kind of fog and realize that circumstances have completely changed around -- well, it can be more than a little nerve-wracking.


C-Side 

Date: 08/19/07
Mood: comfortable

So, my visit to Canada was quite hectic at times, quite relaxing at others, and all-in-all a very successful venture.

T & Bri's wedding and reception were both awesome; everything seemed to go off without a hitch, but that's an observation from an outsider who really didn't take part in the pre-wedding preparations. It was a great time and a good chance for the family to be together again.



Here's a picture of three generations of Sakaluks. Back row (l-r): Uncle Evan, cousin Jesse, Aunt Donna, moi, John Sak / Front row (l-r): Aunt Bonnie, Mary-Lou (an honorary Aunt), and Nan.

Aunt Donna, my mom and I went to Shoppers Drug Mart for some film on the day of the wedding. We discovered in the process that the cosmetics personnel give free make-overs! Consequently, Aunt Donna completely forgot about the film (we had to go back later), and the two of us ended up looking a bit clown-ish for the wedding. But it cost a grand total of zero dollarz, so whatevs! Everyone was looking at the bride and her lovely bridesmaids (including my stunning cousin Corrie) anyway!




The ceremony, which everyone expected to be a lengthy, tear-jerking affair, was actually very short and sweet. Bri somehow managed to keep it together, which prevented the river of tears that threatened to ruin all the ladies' make-up. People seem to be very susceptible to tearing up whenever Bri starts to lose it, I've discovered!




After the ceremony, most people went outside for a breather; this picture was taken in front of a fountain outside the banquet hall that T & Bri got married in. It was very windy out, so the fountain messed up quite a few of these pictures whenever we got sprayed! After that, one of my uncle Tom's old friends had us over to his house for some pre-reception drinkage. We sat on the back patio for about an hour just chatting about the ceremony and relaxing.




This was one of several photographic attempts to duplicate a picture from Aunt Donna's first wedding to now ex-husband Gord. She got married on the Chief Commanda (a rentable yacht on Lake Nipissing in North Bay), and there's a fabulous picture of her in her wedding dress and her two brothers, my dad and my uncle Tom. In this picture, you can see the tables from the reception hall. Pretty fancy stuff!




Here's a picture that I requested to have with my youngest first cousin on my dad's side, Jesse. I was his favorite cousin before he figured out he had a penis and therefore should probably stay away from icky, cootie-ridden girls! His voice has dropped about eight octaves and he's grown at least four inches in the past year. I can't believe he's already fifteen!!




Here's the father and mother of the groom, my Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary. They gave an incredible speech together about T's amazing character, which has remained constant since he was a young kid. It made pretty much everyone blubber!




Here's John Sak (my little brother) dancing with Nan. I aided in getting John drunk enough to want to hit the dance floor at the reception. And now he is immortalized slow-dancing with his grandma...




And his sister!! Actually, by the point this picture was taken, I was considerably more trashed than the younger sib.




This picture of myself with my brother and sister would be a keeper, were my tit not hanging out almost to the nippage. I guess I kind of lost track of my bodacious tatas in all the drunken revelry...




Here are Corrie (my cousin) and Pablo (her boyfriend) -- generally known as C&P. They didn't get to see much of each other throughout the day until the speeches were done at the reception, since Corrie was part of the wedding party as a bridesmaid. Pablo sat at our table, though, and we tried our best to keep him entertained. He bet me $20 U.S. that I wouldn't eat a heaping spoonful of horseradish. Too bad I'm not a pussy!!




Here is an almost standard cake-shot, made sweeter by the fact that T is obviously trying not to mess up his bride's face with cake. How considerate! If I ever get married, and if I decide to have a traditional ceremony/reception (two very big and somewhat unlikely "ifs"), like hell am I going to be careful with the cake! The groom is going to be CAKED 2 D MAX.


Classy Money Ring 

Date: 08/12/07
Listening to: "The Best of Us" - Fugu
Mood: calm


Well, I've finally reached the great, wide North. The drive to Hamilton was a nightmare because we hit the border at an incredibly horrible time. The drive to North Bay from Hamilton was a pain in the ass because Hannah had to pee every hour and the 400 was congested as hell.

Be that as it may, I am here at my mom's house and relatively unscathed. I'll probably be heading out to a mall today to get a dress for T's wedding. My skin's clearing up again at an alarming rate; probably because the water quality here is so much better than in Normal and my skin can actually get clean. Quite honestly, the city of Normal has the shittiest water ever -- it's harder than teeth, what with all those calcium deposits that build up everywhere from that nasty-ass water. My shower is a testament to its impurity. Don't believe me, mm? If you're a Normal resident, take a freakin' gulp of shower water; I bet you won't even be capable of getting around the dusty, metallic taste to swallow it.

Not much going on otherwise. I need to work on "that script" today, probably finish it up good and proper so that Dan can slice and dice it and tell me how much I suck? I have to admit, though -- the closer I get to being done with this script, the less I respect it as a decent output from my brain. Maybe that's how I'm supposed to feel, but it just drives me to edit, and edit, and edit, and edit... when what I really need is just something new to work on and to be done with fucking Green County.

Cigarettes in Canada are expensive and nasty, and I have no money. I only brought up three Winstons to last me nine days. Looks like I'm probably quitting ferrealz? I got the tremors a little bit last night right before I fell asleep, and I've been eating waaaaaaaay too much just to satisfy the oral fixation. But it needs to be done, I've decided.

I had one of those weird fainting spells a couple weeks ago. I haven't had one in years, and the one that happened recently was probably triggered by something I'm not necessarily comfortable with discussing on something open to the wide world's eyes. It scared me a lot about my body, though. "Fainting" is kind of a mild term for what happens to me: all the blood rushes down from my head at the same time into my legs and it feels like I'm dying. Chrissy remarked that my latest "spell" resembled a seizure more than a dead faint, and when I came to, I just lied there in a daze and sweated out about three pounds (seriously, I have never sweat so much in one sitting in my entire life). It has me concerned that I may have suffered a mini-stroke, but I'm too much of a pussy to go to a doctor with my symptoms and have tests confirm that suspicion, so I just have to see to my health immediately. I have to quit smoking; something tells me I'm not going to be one of those lucky smokers who get to wither away in their sixties and seventies from cancer. I'm worried I'll be one of those "kicks off at 32 due to a heart attack" smokers. While I've never really believed that I'll die at an especially old age, I'd at least like to make it to 40. I'm nearly twenty-one and still feel so much like a kid.

Anyway, I have poor circulation and blood pressure that fluctuates from very low to moderately high on a dime. I can no longer afford to partake in the cancer sticks, or, as they will probably end up in my case, extremely painful and deadly stroke sticks.

Most people I know who smoke have even more reason to quit than I do. The effect on Chrissy's health has been staggering: she's got a cough that resembles her mother's now, and it's more of a "hacking up chunks of lung" cough than a "serious cold" cough. It would be good for her to quit, too, because, unlike most people, she could benefit from binge eating to stave off her cravings. Her legs, arms, and hands are looking positively skeletal lately. She appears to have lost weight since she last went to get her Depo shot and was bitched out by the nurse for being twenty pounds underweight. She's actually starting to look like a cigarette.

Hmm.

I found out recently that my cousin's reception is open bar. Sweetness. I will attempt to keep some dignity and not make a fool of myself... but I suppose I can only promise that the attempt will be made.


Go When You Move! 

Date: 08/08/07
Listening to: "Fee Fie" - The Hidden Cameras
Mood: (heat) exhausted


Well, Chicago was fun, but due to some less than intelligent banking on my part, I now have -$72 to my name... Good thing I get paid on Friday!

Visiting Jimmy was pretty awesome. On Saturday night, I met his friend Will and Will's wife Pam, a very nice couple, even though they're scientologists. Will has a gigantic mastiff named George who stands 6'2" on his hind legs. Will also has two very young daughters -- Madison, who is one-and-a-half, and Sydney, who is about eight months. Madison was already in bed when we were visiting, but Sydney, being an infant, was up for a bit to be fed and fussed over. Jimmy and I left at around 1am and I slept like the dead, since he actually has a bed. Any bed I sleep on now seems to be the most comfortable thing I have ever rested upon.

On Sunday, after some brunch at Coco's Cafe, I headed into the city by myself to go see Ellen and Erik. I saw Ellen's new place -- a very spacious apartment with 20ft high ceilings! She's getting a really good deal on it, too -- split between three people, it's about $450 per person (before utilities, of course). Pretty nice, for Chicago proper!

Ellen taught me how to play mahjong, and I proceeded to lay an epic smackdown on her, before she finally came back and beat me the third game we played. By that time, Erik had arrived from across town to chill with us in Ellen's nice air conditioning. We played a game based on the Nightmare Before Christmas -- it was difficult and frustrating, belying its indication that it was suitable for players 8+ in age. Ellen and Erik witnessed the best comeback in the history of that stupid little game, as I roared back from a definite losing position for the majority of the game to win it all in the end!

Erik and I traveled back into the Loop together. It took a long while; we got off at the wrong stop, and the trains seemed to only be running once every half hour. We had good talks, though, which was awesome, since I haven't been able to spend any time with Erik one-on-one for a long time. I'll be meeting him, Teryn, Kerry, and Kerry's new boyfriend Stephen at the Coffeehouse for some lunch today at noon. Fun times.

On Monday and Tuesday, Jimmy and I were pretty lazy. We hung out with Brian and watched 300 on Monday, and ended up booking a room at a sleazy motel for a "4-hour nap" later that evening so we could have some alone time away from the 'rents.

On Tuesday, Jimmy's mom set me up with a wonderful liquid vitamin supplement and a set of tea tree oil body wash, face wash, and cream, as well as some organic apricot shampoo and conditioner from her herbal shop. Free stuff is awesome!

And now I'm home for a paltry span of time (a whole two days) before I'm heading off to Canada to see T and Bri get married.

I missed my last work day because I set my alarm for 5:20pm instead of 5:20am... despite waking up almost every hour on the hour because of a) the heat and b) my craziest roommate's all-night television binge. Suck!

Yeah, so I came home last night, and there was an opened suitcase with clothes spilling out in the middle of the front yard right next to the driveway. Sara was in the living room, surrounded by what looks like days of accumulated garbage, dishes, and clothes.

I can't believe how utterly repulsive and annoying she is!!

I'm sorry, but yeah. I told her to get her shit out of the yard, because (DUH!) her shit's going to get stolent/wet/ruined. She gave some half-hearted acquiescence which I take to mean that her shit (or what's left of it) is still going to be in the yard, and the living room is going to be even more unrecognizable. I think she's home for good from camp (yikes!). I seriously don't know how much of it I'll be able to take. Sometimes, she'll come home and clean the entire upstairs, which is kind of nice, but also shitty because a) she chooses to do it from 8pm to 8am, and b) she manages to completely reverse the cleanliness within two hours, tops. By mid-fall, I'll probably be considering uniting with my other roommates to kick her out and sublease, because the house gets progressively more ridiculous every time she comes home and trashes it. Seriously, this is the worst case of "but usually Mommy is there to pick up after her precious little baby" that I've ever seen.

I doubt I'll make too much of a fuss about it, though, seeing as I'll be leaving in two days. I guess I'll just hope it's in better condition when I get back?


Instant Chitown 

Date: 08/04/07


Hey all, I'm going to be in Chicago for the next few days -- until the 7th. Sort of a spur of the moment decision...

AKA I miss my boyfriend, lahl...

Anyone in the Chicago area can reach me at my new cell number... which is listed in my sidebar (if you don't can't guess the area code, then you probably don't know me well enough to call me!).

Anyway, I'd love to hang out with anyone who's going to be around!


Material Girl 

Date: 08/04/07

    Things to have at my house before the semester starts:

  • textbooks
  • a real mattress
  • cereal
  • ginkgo supplements
  • my pillar fan


Don't Shit On My Face and Tell Me It's Sprinkles 

Date: 08/01/07
Listening to: "Interior of a Dutch House" - Beirut
Mood: so bored


It's Chrissy's birthday today. I got her some philosophy books at Babbitt's -- Sartre, because she loves him; Kant, because it's good for her.

I've had a boring day. I stayed up late entertaining various company last night (Ellen came through on her way to Chicago, and then Ryan came by and we talked about a bunch of random stuff until after midnight). Slept until 9 this morning -- incredible, considering how difficult it is for me to sleep in these days. Did a barely measurable amount of data entry at the lab, and ran into a family friend downtown.

I've been sitting around in my room for most of the day -- my awesome, clean, might-as-well-be-air-conditioned-because-it's-in-the-basement room.

I busied myself putting up some prints -- postcard-sized Klimt and Kahlo pieces dot the wall, along with quite a few Bob Marley photos. I need to get the Clockwork Orange painting Chrissy did for me a few years ago in here, as well as that Jack Nicholson Shining piece that Alyssa did for me her sophomore year of high school. Oh, and I need that potato-sack textured Bob Dylan print. And then, I shall be set as far as decoration goes. I've been picking up wild turkey feathers in the forest; I've got two humongous brown and white striped ones along with a smaller feather (that I still think is from a turkey), which is brown with a strip that has the same visual attributes as oil in water. Kind of like a regular brown feather with bling. It's cool.

Josh gave me some boards and milk crates, with which I made myself a computer desk and a writing desk. Still no chairs, but I'm kind of grooving with the spartan Japanese look. Makes the space seem bigger, which I actually don't need to do, since any room seems gigantic as compared to the shoebox I lived in at my parents' house.

Anyway, I've got some plans to keep myself from going absolutely batshit crazy this week, including hanging out with Teryn tomorrow and going grocery shopping sometime this weekend with my dad. In nine days, I'll be headed off to Canada for a week and a half because my cousin T.J. is getting married. Out of my first cousins on my dad's side, he's the first to get married... crazy, considering he's only three years older than I am. But hey, he's also a lot more financially secure, what with his professional hockey career? This will be the first time the whole Sakaluk clan has been together for a long while, and I'm over legal drinking age in Canada, so the festivities promise to be amazing.

Tonight, Chrissy and I (and assorted others?) will be going to Shooters to play some one dollah pool. Sometimes it's pretty cool to have a vagina, because you get cheap stuff on ladies' night at different places. Like one dollah pool, for instance. Can't really beat that.

I guess the financial advantages of having a dick in the corporate world far outweigh these small vagina-related financial perks at fun places like bars, though.

One of my housemates has been stealing massive amounts of my food, so much so that I've been keeping a written record of what I consume each day so I can monitor the rate of theft. I've already had to move all of my non-perishables downstairs to my room, but even these are still getting lifted on occasion! And they are HIDDEN behind my laundry hamper!!

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be looking into a lockable cabinet space and borrowing my dad's mini-fridge this semester. Meanwhile, I've moved my non-perishables into my ceiling. So much for my milk, eggs, and waffles. Sigh.

At least my 100 percent cranberry juice remains untouched. Apparently it is not an attractive beverage to the obese?

Which is sweet, because my kidneys need that shit.


My Pinky Was Jumping Over On Me 

Date: 07/27/07
Watching: Pink Floyd live in Pompeii
Mood: Decided

I just sent my Dad notification of my attendance confirmation for Fall 2007. I also sent him all of the viable information on my financial aid status that I could find.

Jimmy has agreed to be the biggest pain in my ass if he even suspects that I might be slacking, and I'll probably have to put it down in writing at some point and sign it in blood.


The Luck of the Draw 

Date: 07/25/07
Watching: Rome
Mood: Flabbergasted


Well, I just came back from a "meeting" with my Dad (yes, I schedule meetings with him, usually following his new administrative duties for the day).

It was entirely surreal, and now I have a major decision to make within the next week.

Here's the deal: instead of what I was expecting (free-flowing rants about my irresponsibility fiscally, socially, and sexually), he was completely and utterly calm -- didn't raise his voice once, and he addressed me as if he actually has a modicum of respect for me.

He gave me a clearly outlined choice:

1) I will return to ISU this semester, raise my GPA from a failing 1.78 at least to the point where I can again qualify for financial aid. My rent, utilities, and food expenses will be completely covered by my dad, as well as my schooling costs.

2) I will drop out and continue to pay my own rent, my own utilities, and purchasing my own food. My dad will buy me private health coverage until such time as I can procure a comparable policy from a full-time employer.

...

...

Yeah, I know it seems like the choice should be completely clear. After all, as of my sophomore year in university, I still had a 3.8 GPA. It's not like I'm not capable of getting straight A's; I am.

But I feel completely disoriented by this turn of events -- if I were my kid, I wouldn't be giving me another chance. I've gotten failing grades for two semesters in a row. If I fuck up a third, my relationship with my dad is completely fucked, and I am fiscally fucked as well.

I think I've decided to go back to school, but I'm interested in any input on that decision anyone would be willing to offer. The past few years, the friends I've chosen are mostly 20-something drop-outs who are scraping a living for themselves; I feel guilty for my unique position in this matter, that the offer is even there.


Like A Fistful Of Sand 

Date: 07/17/07
Listening to: "Don't Walk Away, Eileen" - Sam Roberts
Mood: Uneasy


So, man, there has been some drama in various circles of my friends recently. I happen to be in the happy position of not being directly involved or affected by any of it, which makes it fun to talk about sometimes. And since work got rained out (more like nearly electrocuted out), I think I'll blog about it. Shall I?

Within the past week, in order of drama-causingness:
a) Ryan and Heather have broken up.
b) Chrissy and Dan "broke up" and "got back together" - in quotations because the status of their actual relationship is, as always, ambiguous, but I'm 99 percent certain they're at least sleeping together again?
c) Heather and B may or may not have made out while drunk / slept together while drunk / be in a relationship / be living together in sin?

Okay, so maybe that isn't so much drama for most people, but it's a lot for me to keep up with! Personal drama for me either doesn't happen or is very long-lasting and slow to change. I'm used to dealing with one situation that upsets me a lot for a few months before anything new pops up; usually when something crops up, I ignore it for awhile to see if it will just go away on its own until stressing about it becomes inevitable. I don't even know how the people directly affected by all these things can function with all these quick developments! Mind-boggling!

In regard to SITUATION A, I suppose I'm somewhat affected. Both Ryan and Heather have main parts in the film Dan and I are making, and haha, their characters happen to be dating? Sue me for thinking their relationship would last at least a few years! Ah, well, I guess type-casting promotes bad karma.

In regard to SITUATION B, I must admit that I don't really give that much of a crap. I was concerned about Chrissy for a day or two because she seemed genuinely upset, but in the back of my mind, I knew (and I knew she knew) that everything would be back to normal within about 48 hours.

SITUATION C is kind of weird, because I spend a lot of time with Ryan et al, but I don't necessarily want to cut off all contact with Heather et al because they're pretty fun. I went over to Heather's with Chrissy and Dan last night and had to endure a few moments of severe awkwardness because of all the fantastic rumors flying around surrounding that whole thing. It was hard to listen to people be so flippant about it when I had to watch poor Ryan choke on his own tears for a good hour earlier in the day. It may be just a bump in the road for Heather, especially since she seems to be well on her way to connecting with someone else, but Ryan is, understandably, a little bit more than slightly put-out. B would have been wiser to rein himself in for at least a couple weeks -- such a quick development doesn't really put himself or Heather in a good light and it leads to suspicion, valid or not, of a pre-existing relationship (prior to Heather's break-up with Ryan). Logically, both parties to a failed relationship are free to do what they please the second a break-up is decided upon, but the respectful thing to do, I think, is to wait at least a little while before jumping into something new... or at least keep that something new way on the dl while you can. You have to understand, all three parties to this drama move in largely the same social circles. B seemed to already be acting sneaky enough, avoiding Ryan's like the plague from the day him and Heather broke up, breaking engagements to hang out with Ryan so he could go over to Heather's. If you're going to be sneaky, then don't half-ass it! Being secret lovers can be fun, and it's a novelty for a few weeks at least, and when it gets old, enough time is elapsed that it's perfectly non-scandalous to 'go public' with a romantic attachment. Then again, I really don't know B that well, and all of my interactions with him have been very pleasant. He seems very chill and in tune with things, and as out of left field his relationship with Heather seems, now that I think about it, they're a decent match. Just feel bad for the Riz, that's all. I've heard being single in one's late twenties can be a bit nerve-wracking, and he doesn't seem to have any romantic prospects on the immediate horizon. I mean, apparently he's been bitched out for flirting with me(?!) a few times before, but as attractive and wonderful as I think Ryan is, I'm happily involved with someone else right now, and that rumor is largely unfounded seeing as I'm about as flirtatious as a retarded 50-day-old puppy. Flirting doesn't really occur to me, even with people I'm romantically interested in. Once I'm in a relationship, I can be pretty affectionate, but up to that point, I'm kind of like, "not sending any signals, not sending any signals, not sending any sig--- hey, let's fuck!!"

Hmm, so end my thoughts on the matter.

A good dinosaur comics archived strip for today: Where You From?


I Don't Like to Drink My Calories 

Date: 07/15/07
Mood: exhausted

Back from Chicago. Pitchfork was amazing -- it makes me wonder why there are so many tools who will shell out for Lollapalooza when a) Pitchfork is $50 for three days of amazing music, b) both small and big music venues are available all day, c) the food is reasonably priced.

Oh, and lest we forget: the music, on the whole, is SO MUCH BETTER, mostly because it is more diverse. On Saturday alone, I saw jazz, indie rock, electronic, rap, and metal gigs... with some surprising results. Mastodon, a metal band, put on one of the best shows of the entire weekend (although Clipse put some fighting spirit into the hippy crowd as well). Yoko Ono was so out there and crazy that one couldn't tell if the crowd was riled up for her or against her ("Don't Worry Kyoko" was either an extremely high or a devastatingly low point -- I still can't decide which; "Mulberry" was much the same). Cat Power... I love her, but she had sound issues like crazy and I just couldn't watch her with much enthusiasm after spending an hour witnessing the amazingly entertaining spectacle of Clipse.

But there are cons with Pitchfork, too, that I found most annoying:
1) no re-entry
2) not enough t.p.
3) too many hipsters

Hipsters at an event like Lolla would be easy to deal with because not only did they spend their money on a huge event like Lolla (ie - they have obviously not been to many other smaller festivals or concerts in the past two months), but also they think they know everything about music because they've heard of the Flaming Lips. Hipsters at Pitchfork are arrogant, mostly rich fucks who I hate even more because they're the people hanging out with the music-makers I adore... and they know too fucking much about music.

If you are naturally awesome like that, and have naturally awesome connections like that, you do not need to be arrogant or spend money on fintage (fake-vintage) clothes that cost multiple hundreds of dollars per item!!! No! You do not!!

An exciting and passionate weekend, you can tell.

I'm actually very surprised that Jimmy enjoyed it all so much. I bought tickets for him behind his back so that he couldn't refuse to go with me -- otherwise I would have had to fly solo the whole weekend and work out sleeping arrangements that may have cost money??

Instead, I got to crash at his place all weekend, and he kept me fed, and was also amazing company. At one point during Yoko's set, he tried to see if he could out-howl her (much to the amusement of bystanders). The one thing he didn't like, apparently, is the fact that he kept getting mean looks for his attire; dude looks like he just got off work from the office all the time, and the white-collar look wasn't a popular choice at the festival. What can I say? He tells me dress pants are comfortable, and button-ups are convenient because of the breast pocket for his smokes. I can't really argue, nor do I really care.

It's kind of stressful being back. I'm going job-hunting tomorrow with Ryan (and possibly Gene), starting at 10am until... well, until whenever I find a job. Definitely could use the influx of cashola at the moment.


We're Only Playing 

Date: 07/04/07
Listening to: "Little Monsters" - Charlotte Gainsbourg
Mood: teeny-weeny


Thought I'd update since I haven't done lately.

Production for Green County inches ever onward. We will be filming a scene on the eighth, and I'm very excited about it. Ryan and I have been rehearsing hardcore; we have the complete blocking down already and I have it all memorized, so it should be a snap, and Dan should get what he needs without a ridiculous number of takes (which is good, because tapes are expensive!).

I've been doing all right keeping myself fed and healthy in my new home. Trouble with housemates is there, but not overwhelming -- and I expect my relationship with them will remain thus for the remainder of my stay, so I don't see the need to continue to record all of the small things that piss me off about maintaining the house (or paying for it).

Kerry's coming over tonight to eat pizza and watch movies, and then afterward, I may or may not be going to a fireworks display with Chrissy. It depends on her a) remembering that I exist in time to come over here and b) not finding anything better to do. Between those two complications, I'm not sure she'll make it over here at all.

I've decided that she hasn't really been ignoring me lately, so much as she has been completely gluing herself to Dan -- which is all fine and good; they used to date, after all, and they're sleeping together often enough that they should just drop the pretense of being fuck-buddies at this point, too. I wish she would at least tell me about these things, though, instead of leaving me to figure it all out. I mean, something as simple as: "Marion, it's not you. It's my vagina!" would suffice.

Ah, well.

Jimmy's coming back tomorrow. I can't wait. The more repetitive my days get here, the more I miss him. And I sorta need a hug... just a little bit.


All The Fear of Being Overheard 

Date: 06/22/07
Listening to: "Secret Heart" - Feist
Mood: Smellies


I did just what I didn't want to do after coming home from the forest today: I cleaned the house after the pseudo-party thrown here last night of which I was no part thanks to my early work hours. It seems to me like Carmen and I are the only people even mildly concerned about the state of the house. Don't get me wrong -- I'm a slob, and my room reflects that, but I generally am not used to my entire living area being a complete disaster, and this drives me to clean. The only thing remotely related to upkeep I have seen Josh undertake this week has been to take the trash bin in from the curb and empty the litter box. Once. I don't really do much cleaning, but when I do clean (at least once a week), the entire upstairs (living room and kitchen) is my battleground. This is despite the fact that my bedroom is in the basement and I've spent about five minutes total in the living room since I moved in.

Ah, well. Actually, I feel a lot more accomplished than I do bitter. I'm sure my parents think I'm living in a biohazard of a house, and I have thus far proved them mega wrong. I'm quite sure my kitchen and living room are cleaner on a regular basis than the kitchen and living room at home.

And Josh is a boy (ie -- a dirty, smelly, blind, and thoughtless creature by nature). And at least he bakes sometimes. Sarah doesn't even really live here -- she lives at camp.

I'm just surprised to find myself with the most advanced knowledge of clean living in this house. I'm pretty convinced I'm the only one who actually knows how to do dishes, for example. I mean, my housemates do them occasionally, but never very well -- I always have to re-wash at least a third of them. Apparently the idea of washing glassware first is completely foreign to them?? And they think that the living room is a good place for dirty socks and empty pizza boxes??

I'm sayin' 'hmm'. And not in a Busta Rhymes sort of way.


Upgefucked* 

Date: 06/17/07
Listening to: In The Dark - The Changes
Mood: Fuzzies in my brainwaves


So, I've decided that I really want to try to go to the Pitchfork Music Festival in Union Park from the 13th to the 15th of July... A lot of bands that I have come to love are playing, including but not limited to:
  • De La Soul
  • Iron & Wine
  • Cat Power
  • Sonic Youth
  • of Montreal
  • The New Pornographers
  • Klaxons
  • Stephen Malkmus
  • Junior Boys
  • Grizzly Bear
  • Clipse
  • Menomena
  • Girl Talk
  • Califone
  • The Ponys
  • Deerhunter
  • The Field
  • Yoko Ono
  • Brightblack Morning Light
Shit, man. That's a lot of bands that I fucking like, dudelings.

I'm going to see if Jimmy is interested in going with me... I can't believe this! $50 for three days is a decent enough price for that much enjoyment, but I am a bit worried about scheduling conflicts between bands I want to see... Alas!

Had a good night tonight. I spent much of it riding around with Heather's boyfriend Ryan, as I had a few errands to run on which he was willing to accompany me... I've decided that dude is cool as balls. He is honestly one of the most enlightened people I know, and talking with him is so refreshing! Maybe it's because he has ADD and we manage to discuss a bunch of stuff when we gab. ??

I could go for some chocolate right now.

Peace.

*Title inspired by the ever quotable Brian Kurth, who once said: "German can go ge-fuck itself." Apparently some people don't like the language? I can't imagine why...


It's Called Bloating... Or Gragging? 

Date: 06/14/07
Listening to: Jim Jones - Bob Dylan
Mood: Full Capacity


Last night was a victorious spectacle of a winning-streak for the M*Sak, let me tell you. Ladies' Night was officially PWNED.

Chrissy and I had a promising start on the drive to Ride the Nine. We were stopped at a red light, and some good ol' boy on a muscle-bound Harley Davidson cruised up beside us. Chrissy liked the bike, so she said hi, and in the span of a red light, we learned the mysterious biker with the image of a blunt-smoking certain blasphemy of a purple dinosaur tattooed on his arm is named Barney. Barney works at the Outlaw Club, which is apparently a B-Town Biker Bar. We were invited to come along over to the place for drinks and rides on the H-muscle; at Chrissy's mild assertion that she is not twenty-one, we received the affectionate reply: "I-on't givva fuuuck..." in that charming ol' boy drawl. So I may or may not be frequenting a biker bar soon enough. Not for Barney, or even for his bike (or mullet), but the atmosphere intrigues me.

Anyway, back to the tale of my glorious evening of billiards:

Once at Ride the Nine, our cue and coke procured, I proceeded to lay down a 40lb barrel of the finest grade of WUPASS on Chrissy's skinny behind. I won five games in a row, got flirted up by a cute (albeit slightly shady-looking) character who was apparently interested in my tattoo, and managed to weasel a $1 internet jukebox selection out of aforementioned shady-looking hottie (it was Mary Jane's Last Dance, natch).

Basically, I had a fan-fucking-tastic night.

Tonight -- eh, not so eventful. Chrissy and Dan came by, and we went to Chad's trailer for a few minutes, but Chrissy has been working ten-hour days for quite a long while now, and decided she was too tired to do anything but drive back to Normal to drop me off and then go home and pass out with amiable fuck-buddy Dan.

So, I'm on my lonesome, which is probably a good thing, since I have to work tomorrow. Apparently there's supposed to be a party here tonight, hosted by Josh for his on-and-off obsession's impending move to Nashville. This supposed party was supposed to start ten minutes ago, and I am the only person in this house. Maybe the location was moved at the last minute? I can't say I'd be that disappointed, considering the early morning I have ahead of me, and Josh's tendency to drink. A lot.

Today, June 14th, marks the first day of 2007 that I have deemed appropriate for shorts, not only because it is hot (DAMN HOT!) outside, but also because I have a suitcase full of dirty laundry and no detergent.

And no money... but that's a separate looming raincloud all by itself. I've got about $60 to my name right now, and rent's due on the first... I should get two paychecks before then, which would be cool, but I'm worried that the advance I got last pay period will cut into my pay and I may get nothing..? I hope that's not the case, though -- I usually get an advance for office work I start doing for graduate students later in the summer...

AND I NEED THAT MONEY... Rull bad.

I also have yet to make an appointment with a guidance counselor at Heartland. I really need to get all my ducks in a row on this shit before I even consider approaching my dad about my 'plans' for next semester (part-time community college student, part-time minimum wage grunt).

I've been dreading said confrontation for so long and so much that I'm at the point that I've come full circle and can't even worry about it. I can only smile helplessly and hope I don't get taken off the family health insurance for my trespasses.

Speaking of health: bad! Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!! I somehow developed yet another kidney infection, which came on much faster than the one I had a few months ago and was exponentially more severe. I ended up at the Bromenn Emerg at three in the morning, laughing through my agonized tears as the nurse asked me to rate the pain on a scale of 1 to 10. Uh, lady, have you seen my back? I didn't shed a tear with a needle jabbing into my back continuously for an hour and a half, not even when it was tracing over the bones in my spine! And I'm crying now!! Cut the crap and just give me the goddamn Vicodin!

Of course, this was still when Jimmy was visiting, and, horror of horrors, apparently one is not to engage in intercourse when one is afflicted with a kidney infection. I'm not sure what role the fucking KIDNEYS play in sex, but I was good and abstained. Kind of.

I've found 37 new bands that I like in the past two days. See, that's why I love mp3 blogs. I found a song about a horny gorilla who escaped from the zoo. And it's in French... like, cabaret-style shit. Maybe I'm just developing a penchant for hoarding absolutely ridiculous music, but, ferrealz, that's my shiz, yo. I've also developed a habit of trying to find "non-single" material on the albums of new and up-coming mainstream artists... particularly mainstream hip-hop artists.

I found out today that my flatmate's friend Katie drawls pitchurs of the Japanese anime-style. I'm glad I finally found something to chat about with her -- even if it is about something I don't know much about. She's over at the house almost every day and I have felt bad about being a little hermit. So we talked a bit about her favorite artists, and laughable horrifying-ness that is Faruba's latest bajillion volumes.

Phew. Well, it sounds like someone is actually home -- they're playing the post-punk mix I made for the party, at any rate. So I think I'll make an appearance before I hit the sack.

Peace and shiz.

EDIT:

Date: 06/15/07
Listening to: Regiment - Brian Eno
Mood: Independently Frugal


Sweet, I gots paid, y'all. Another 500 in the bank, thank god, which means I can set aside money for next month's rent already. I've actually been very good about managing my money and balancing my checkbook recently -- keeping receipts and everything!! It's made life a lot easier -- why was I such a dumbass before?

Anyway, not sure why I got paid so much (it's almost like another advance -- pretty sure I didn't make that much in two weeks, considering I'm paid, like, $8.50/hr and I took three days off this week for my kidneys.

I made some interesting observations yesterday while in an altered state of mind. I was looking at the postcard prints I have on my wall (all six of them) without my glasses on and describing what they look like that way.

1: Bob Marley smoking a joint -- I saw the face of a man as he's putting on sunglasses with a gloved black hand.
2: The Two Fridas -- the print made the light seem 3-dimensional; it looked like a badass light fixture
3: Hand-colored(?) photo of Frida Kahlo -- I saw a very art deco work featuring a stylized apple core, complete with a green leaf spreading out from the stem
4: Photo of Bob Marley against fuchsia background -- I saw a baroque painting of Actaeon, surrounded by a pale yet vibrant border of tie-dye colors
5: Photo of blues musician "Taj Mahal" playing the bass -- I saw an androgynous black figure in a pin-up pose, pulling up the skirt to bear the leg
6: The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Me, Diego and Mr. Xoelotl -- I saw arms carrying a framed, mostly tropically-themed still-life painting, complete with oranges, bananas, a lime, and strawberries

Thought I'd share that. Last night turned out to be pretty cool. I talked to Roberta for a little while and she seemed like a cool chick -- it's too bad she's moving to Nashville before I got a chance to know her! The 'party' ended up being a pretty low-key gathering of about five or six people, most dropping in and out intermittently -- for a long while it was just Josh, Roberta, and myself out on the front porch. Our bug-repellent candle had died beyond revival, so we loaded the pottery bowl it was in with toilet paper and twigs and made a little torch -- that was fun. A guy named Wes stopped by, and I couldn't place where I'd met him until after he left -- Zhora introduced me to him, like, last September, and I haven't seen Wes since October, so I suppose it makes sense that I wouldn't remember him right off the bat. Upon reflection, I'm glad he's friends with Josh, because I recall he's a pretty genial guy -- the kind of man who's made a lot of really big mistakes but is working very hard to get his life back on track.

I rode my bike into work this morning, and let me say that it is actually refreshing to be out riding that early -- there's no traffic, pedestrian or vehicular, and the breeze is cool and fresh -- none of that stagnant heaviness that comes with late afternoon. The awesome thing about it is that the ride home after work is all downhill -- I just coast and I'm home in three minutes flat. Sweetness.

Peace, take 2.


Have You Seen The Time? 

Date:06/11/07
Listening to: "Monocorde" - Fugu
Mood: out of my element


I've moved into my own place, finally! Jimmy helped me get all my stuff over here and we've been having a great time while he's in town (he leaves tomorrow).

Unfortunately, I spent a good part of last night in the hospital because of yet another kidney infection. I got some Vicodin out of the deal, though!

I'm hoping, despite my advance, that I get paid this Friday... It's only the 11th and already I'm worried about next month's rent. Oh well -- if worse comes to worst I can always give plasma ($60 a pop, bitches!).

Life in My Own Home has been very strange albeit enjoyable. I'm very glad for my own space in the basement -- a space considerably larger than what I'm used to for myself. It's hard to believe that this will actually be my place of residence for the next twelve months! Craziness!


Everyone Who Knows You Wants You Back Again 

Date: 06/01/07
Listening to: "The Akhian Press" - Frog Eyes
Mood: over-stimulated


I should have worked on the script today; instead I went to The Coffeehouse for seven hours and talked to Yonathan about Ethiopia and the world economy and the American Dream™. I love connecting with people like that, just having long meandering conversations that are so involved they make your brain hurt. Literally, dudes. My head is bumpin. The massive amounts of coffee and cigarettes probably didn't help much there either, I guess.

That advance finally came through today, so I'm going to start moving my stuff over to the house on Vernon tomorrow -- going to try to figure out what I need to buy and what I can do without. You know, spendthrift style.

My head is hurting too much to blog right now. Peace.


Hypocrite, Opportunist! 

Date: 05/31/07
Listening to: "You Love Me" - DeVotchka
Mood: criminal

I just ganked six dollars' worth of quarters from the family change jar for cigarettes and a glow-in-the-dark lighter. And if that isn't bad enough, I told Anne I was going to drop something off to Dan so that she'd let me take the car for ten minutes for the procurement of aforementioned cancer sticks -- a mere twelve minutes' walk from my front door.

I've decided I've made a tactical error when it comes to cigarettes: The first time I attempted to quit, it was purely motivated by peer pressure -- not peer pressure that was uninvited, even; I was practically inviting people to make me feel guilty about the habit. However, to successfully quit, I think a myriad factors need to be combating the addiction: peer pressure and guilt included, but also limited finances, and an actual desire to get the smell and taste out of ones' system (and hair... and clothing). I've never had all these factors combine at the same time, and it gets exponentially harder to quit after each failed attempt.

My sister's turning into quite the little composer. I'm glad to see musical interest rearing its beautiful head; I was a bit pessimistic about her eventual outcome as a human being considering her main interests for most of her life have been sports and church, in that order. But music! A good development. She's been taking piano lessons for about half a year now, and practices very diligently for someone with a typical ten-year-old mindset and attention span. She's been playing around with the recorder for a little while too, which was one of the first instruments I picked up as a kid -- it led to my doomed fling with the clarinet in high school. She can read music at this point, but she's a freelance by-ear composer -- she'll play a few notes on the recorder, and once she finds a pleasing combination, she'll then find complimentary notes on the piano, et cetera. It's interesting to listen to; I think she's actually got an ear for a kid whose voice would lend most people to believe that she's completely tone deaf (the curse of the Armstrong low female register, alas!).

Smoothed things over with C a good deal last night, just enough so that I'm pretty sure all the other little crap I was worried about when it comes to her might just work itself out -- nice, since I have a lot of other shit that I should be worrying about right now (new house, bills, withdrawing from ISU, registering at Heartland, making enough money to eat sometimes).

C and I went with Amanda for pool at Ride The Nine last night. Vitalik and Zhora were there with a couple of fugly female companions; V actually came over and greeted us. The experience was entirely too surreal -- I haven't seen either of them for so long! Far from being put off by it, I was dumbfounded by how much I didn't even care -- I forgot they were there every few minutes, which is weird, considering they picked a table directly in our line of sight. Also weird considering Zhora was my entire fucked up world for a few months only about the span of human gestation ago. I wish this could have happened before I met Jim, so that I could experience this relief and elation in singledom. Because it's easy for me to say I don't care now, seeing as it's so easy not to care -- Jim is everything Zhora was not as a romantic partner -- considerate, fun, level-headed, oh, and did I mention completely into me on almost every level? Everything is so much better now -- and I almost have to thank Zhora for that. Had he not come into my life and screwed it all up, I don't think I would have reached a level of emotional maturity within my thinking about romantic relationships that would have allowed me to get into my current relationship and enjoy it so fully. Comparison is a wonderful thing, and I'm thankful for it, because having had a complete asshole in my life, I can truly appreciate Jim and won't easily take his kindness and commitment for granted. I mean, it's not as if I only learned things about relationships through my uber-negative connection with Russia's Finest, but I do have to admit that he was my first older man, and that counts for something. I learned a lot from my relationship with Kiri, for example, but it was a different sort of learning, considering she's a few years younger than I am -- we were both too young, I think, to even understand what we ourselves individually wanted out of a relationship, let alone what to do to satisfy those needs in another person. Zhora gave me a bitter but much-needed taste of complete and utter disappointment and a host of unfulfilled emotional needs I didn't even know I had until they started starving away in my brain and making me completely neurotic. So, I guess I didn't learn anything about what I wanted out of a relationship from Zhora: just what I definitely didn't want.

On the other hand, Jim creates and simultaneously fulfills companion-related emotional needs in me every day. Wow, I think that's an utterly girly thing to say, but it's, liek, totally true, lolz...? But what's also true is that the sex is way better!!! Fuck it, I tried to be deep for a minute there, and it was a valiant effort, if I do say so myself.

Not much for happs today. Got back from the forest at a decent hour, and I've been sitting inside my disorganized room nook for most of the day, organizing music and doing some fun research for Green County. I took a lot of naps. I didn't shower or even put on any deodorant. Quite frankly, this room cranny is getting pretty ripe from my pheromone-stink. Better light some incense or something -- pew!

I'm going to go into some needlessly detailed and nasty female grossness now (Rosie has met her match), so if you'd rather not read it, I suggest you just stop now and we'll pretend that girls don't ever poop or sweat or bleed.

Okay, so I finally got my period yesterday -- it was four days late, which drove me fucking nuts, by the way, because I've been regular down to the time of day for years. And jesus, it was a doozy. I'm out of tampons and can't buy any because I only have two dollars to my name right now, but I have lots of pads, which wouldn't be too bad, and is a lot better than nothing... However, I must tell you, pads are not conducive to wren-catching! Seriously, hiking around with a big lady diaper on for six hours was rough -- and now I literally have a rash to rival any late-blooming toddler. And you know what's weird about it? I totally recognized the feeling! Like, I actually remember what diaper rash feels like!

And you know what? It's fucking horrible!

This has led me to the decision to make ass-care a very high-up priority when I start popping babies out.

Peace!


Please Don't Help Me With This 

Date: 5/29/07
Listening to: The One I Love - David Gray
Mood: Borderline belligerent


Ryan, Heather, et al apparently got back from Summer Camp late yesterday, so I got to kick it with them today. Summer Camp sounds like an investment I need to plan for next summer -- Les Claypool played, as did The Wailers(!!). It's a hefty investment (Ryan dropped $350, including the admission price), and I'd need to buy food to eat, et cetera -- but it's certainly something I can save up for over a year, and it would be a nice "school's over" treat. Hopefully I'm at an okay place financially next summer and can go with them.

I don't have to work tomorrow, so I drank a considerable amount tonight. I would have much rather indulged in other habits, but that was not to be. Whatev. I was downing coffee all night as well, but it still hasn't helped me stay awake. My teenage years are officially over: I can no longer switch sleeping schedules over by ten hours just because I have a day off. Staying up very late will probably be an extremely rare occurrence this summer, I guess.

Magenta and John broke up recently, which is totally weird to me... They've been dating since I started hanging out with Ryan et al -- I suppose I've only really been spending a lot of time there since winter, and six months isn't a long time, but still... the dynamic is a little toxic right now. Apparently the break-up was one of the more amiable, considering both parties are in extremely bad places emotionally right now (John is bipolar and Magenta's doggie just died). Still... weirdness!

C came over for a little while, but left very quickly. She went out of her way to say goodbye to Dan and didn't even exchange pleasantries or a goodbye with me... but yeah, again, maybe I'm just reading too much into that situation. It worries me, though. I think I should make it a goal this summer not to rely so heavily on her for companionship -- maybe she's just getting tired of that reliance (or of me in general), and no wonder -- she's got a lot on her plate and a lot of her own shit that she has yet to deal with. I expect she's not in the most confident of places, despite appearances: when Dan told her that he and I might be rooming together come this winter (or next Spring), she felt the need to ask him if we were fucking -- since apparently the fact that I have a boyfriend and have never cheated on anyone in my life (and understand the delicate nature of her relationship with Dan) counts for absolutely nothing? Also: cough, there is no physical chemistry between Dan and myself and that is easily observed, cough. Sigh. I need to stop writing about this stuff and just talk it out with her -- I'm afraid to, though... I've never really had a serious conflict with her, and she is not the person to get into an argument with (and I have reason to suspect that a conversation about these things would definitely turn into a conflict of some sort). I'm sure if she ever read what I write here, she'd be incredibly hurt. Within the context of interpersonal conflict, she is capable of very effective and objective logic, but she also has a penchant for detached cruelty when she feels like it (which, when she gets into it with Dan, seems to be a regular occurrence -- I suspect that no one in his life has inspired and brought him down at the same time anymore than has C). It's not really fair of me to worry about that, though, since I've never really been a victim of it. We'll see. We'll see.

I'm looking forward to waking up tomorrow and doing an assload of work on "my little film". Dan told me to call him as soon as I wake up, but I think I'll need a few hours to edit and shiz before I get together with him -- I want something really substantial to give him tomorrow. When I talked to my mom recently, she chastised me for not just handing over the whole thing, rough edit and all. No one knows my writing habits better than my mom does -- she hasn't read much of my stuff, but she's seen me agonize for hours and days and weeks and months over editing and working toward a place where I won't be completely ashamed to let someone see my work. This is especially nerve-wracking for me with Green County -- I'm completely unused to seeing my work being performed by people, and I've never taken a playwriting class in my life (yikes!). I was up all through the wee hours on the eve of the first auditions, editing and sweating and puking from nervousness. When I did get to sleep, I had wicked, stereotypical nightmares of actors reading the lines and just laughing at their absurdity. Thankfully, that's not what happened -- the first audition went very well. We had a lot more people show up than I thought we would (still less than we needed -- hence the need for a second audition), and everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy reading the material back and forth. I remember when Paige was trying to do a play a couple years ago, she had a hard time finding people to audition -- and I have no doubt that she is the far superior playwright. Dan's experience helped me out a lot in that respect, though -- I think Paige could have benefited from someone who had a lot of acting connections back then. It would have been nice to act for her. Like, really nice. Even if I had to co-star with Lauren, who I still had major issues with back then.

Ah, well, I'm in a strange place tonight -- probably feeling a bit too sorry for myself. There's nothing like having a best friend who always picks up but never calls, and a wonderful boyfriend who happens to be 200 miles away to make you understand and truly feel the wasted potential of certain situations. Just enough satisfaction to make me feel utterly unsatisfied, you know? I hope that doesn't make me a completely unreasonable person.

My upper back is stinging with muscle pain. I played Halo with Gene for a couple hours tonight. The game is fun, but I think first-person shooter games are a little too real for me -- they make me incredibly tense. Takes me back to the good old days when my brother used to play me just to find creative ways to take my life(!).

Mei, Heather, and I had a really involved talk about sex today. I don't understand why nymphomania has such bad implications to it. Shouldn't female nymphos be every straight (or bi) guy's dream? Am I the one stereotyping now? And yet I have to offer the disclaimer that I'm hardly a nympho myself (fie, social conditioning!), but it's to the point that many men classify women who simply enjoy sex as nymphos. Personally, I have yet to meet a man I couldn't overwhelm in terms of sex-drive, but I guess since I don't widely advertise that fact (until now, I guess), it's not held against me. But, seriously: how backward is that? I hardly think that women have "weaker" sex-drives than men, even at my age (apparently, I'm not supposed to peak for another 15 years, and the men I've slept with peaked years ago - at 18). I think it gets mixed up in the mass conception because of the emotionality most women experience to some degree in the context of sex. It's not that we don't want to have a bunch of it, it's just that sleeping around without any sort of discrimination is extremely emotionally draining for us vagina-possessing folk. Of course, I know some women who can just turn that off, but not without causing some degree of emotional damage to themselves regardless of their remoteness.

Maybe I shouldn't waste my time thinking about such things -- they hardly seem important in the grand scheme of things these days. All I have to do is look at Tim's blog to be humbled by the political turmoil that drives him to the keyboard every day. I'm at the point where my focus in that context is just so consistently negative that I can't focus on it for long. I make a decent attempt to stay abreast of current issues compared to most people I know, but there's so much corruption and evil and mismanagement that it's hard to pick out any one thing to criticize from day-to-day.

I sat outside The Coffeehouse with a guy named Matt who used to work there and Yonathan, a young man from Ethiopia. He had a lot of questions about the way the economy is set up in this country and the structure of government. We had a very long, involved conversation, and I learned a lot about Ethiopia, but in the end it just left me feeling so down (albeit intellectually stimulated), that I just wanted to go home, lose myself in a few hours of music downloading and forget about the world outside my window.

Well, it's after 11:30, and I promised I'd call Jimmy back before I went to bed, so I should probably cut myself off before I ramble myself to death. Peace.

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Everybody Draws Conclusions 

Date: 05/29/07
Listening to: Losing The Will to Survive - Findlay Brown
Mood: Chillin'


It's been a grueling few days. Work, what with the constant morning rain and the incredible number of cicadas has been miserable and disgusting... Good thing I get a gigantamus advance on the first!!

Not much has been up other than that. I've been trying to get my shit together for the past few days so that moving out isn't a total nightmare. I've been working on the Green County script at least five hours a day. Ryan, Heather, Gene, et al are still all at Summer Camp, so it's been boring and quiet for the past few days. I see Dan periodically most days, and Chrissy I see for short times some days.

Jim's coming down to visit me in a few days. He's headed to Union Station right now to pick up tickets for the first train ride that costs $11. I'm so excited that he's coming back. My friends here are great, but everyone has their own interests and passions that seem very separate from mine right now -- Jim's passion, other than music, is me -- so I'll get to be all happy in my selfish little attention-whore way very soon.

I've been trying hard not to build up any unnecessary resentment since Chrissy got home. Apparently she had a bit of a row with Dan about him wanting to spend a lot of time on the film him and I are working on this summer... and yet, she hasn't made much of an attempt to spend time with me at all. In fact, she hasn't called me once since she got back. She has been very busy, of course, but it's a little disheartening that every minute I've spent with her so far has been at my request, not hers. Actually, she's seemed uselessly irritated -- not at me, per se, but, like, surrounding me, almost. Par examplay: her, Dan, and I were supposed to hang out one night. Dan said he would call me when he was finished having dinner with her (I didn't want to interrupt them while they were eating). I received a call at around 7:30 -- Hannah picked up the phone, but while she was attempting to hand it to me, she hit the power button. I asked her who it was and she said she didn't know, but offered that she thought it was a guy. Since Dan had left on the bus to get to Chrissy's by five, I figured they must be close to finished eating, and it was probably him, so I called his phone. When he picked up, it was obvious that he was still out at dinner with Chrissy, so I hastily explained my mistake and he was generally cool about it like always, and then, in the background, I hear Chrissy say: "Why is she calling? Didn't you say you were going to call her back?" -- As if the very thought of me was annoying to her at that moment or something. I probably shouldn't be blogging about it, as I haven't really addressed this with her, and it might end up seeming to me to be totally not worth it to. But that occurrence coupled with the fact that she's constantly complaining about what a drag it is to drive "all the way up to Normal" to get me just sort of rubbed me the wrong way for a minute. I mean, she lives on Chestnut -- that's barely in Bloomington! The drive takes seven minutes, tops. Also, she's been very derisive and condescending whenever Dan or I mention the film around her. Dan told her the other day that he had the perfect small part picked out for her, and her reply was: "Oh, you don't have to give me some dinky part in your little film." I'm hardly one to take myself too seriously these days, but I've been working on the script for this beast since January, and it's Dan's directorial debut in a feature-length project -- we've been working really hard on it, editing, coordinating auditions, et cetera. I hardly appreciate being belittled by someone who hasn't even expressed any interest in reading through it. Anyway, bleh, it's probably nothing, but I've just had a bad feeling about how things are going with her since she got back. Maybe I'm kind of tired of feeling like an eternally more ignorant and uninvited tag-along to a younger friend who seems to be under the impression that my life experience counts for little to nothing. Then again, I might be completely overreacting.

Maybe she doesn't even realize that these things are hurtful to me. In fact, she probably doesn't -- she's been so busy lately, I guess I can hardly expect her to meditate on every off-hand comment she makes to me. I did something stupid a few months back and begged Jim to try to make a good impression on her. I feel really bad for stressing that -- he didn't say anything, but I think I made him feel bad, like I'm embarrassed of him or something. And it's not that at all -- it's just that Chrissy's turned into an incredibly judgmental person -- someone who's nearly impossible to impress, for whatever reason. I can't think of one person or environment she's been introduced to through Dan or myself in the past year that she hasn't had some derisive and largely unfounded criticism of. Her and I haven't talked much about Jim, and I'm glad, because I don't want to think about or care what she thinks of him. Er, okay, enough about that. Seriously.

You've noticed the new layout? Sexy, nicht wahr? I've decided to stop catering to the lowest possible resolution, since most people have 1024 x 768 or higher these days anyway. Apologies if you have a crappy computer. I was totally rocking the spartan design for a long while, but I missed all my little linklets!

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Boom-chh-chh-chchch-ch 

Listening to: "My Love" - Justin Timberlake <--shut up


iCampus doesn't seem to be working at the moment, probably due to the fact that thousands of students are attempting to access their grades at the EXACT SAME TIME. This leaves me with two choices: (1) Keep hitting refresh in the vain hope that somehow I'll advance in the incredibly long queue of students who care about their grades a good deal more than I do - OR - (2) Man up to the fact that my interwebs is pretty slow right now and blog to pass the time.

I choose numero dos.

Jimmy's back in Bridgeview for the summer, and while I miss him h'omg a-lotz, I must admit it's been nice being able to stretch out on my surprisingly roomy single bed for the past couple nights. Of course, this is just a comfort novelty, and I'll most likely be crying myself to sleep within a week and crushing myself between my wall and full-length pillow to simulate the presence of another human being.

Oh, hey, I think I can put this thing to good use for once:

AUDITIONS FOR A SUPER GREAT FILM THAT I WROTE -- AUGUST 18th 4PM @ THE COFFEEHOUSE (DOWNSTAIRS) -- TO BE DIRECTED BY DAN "C-DUB" CAVANAUGH-WOZNIAK!!!!!!

And after the auditions are over, you can stay and watch the slam finals and see who busts onto Team Normal!

I'm hoping we get more than two people to come to auditions... seeing as the script calls for, like, 20 different parts (most of which are regrettably for young men). Also, production time is going to be, like, a year... which means that we need an assload of locals -- or at least people who are going to be around on traditional school breaks for the next year.

Hrrgh, enough about that.

Good news! I've found a place to live! It's a house on Vernon -- I'll be living with three other people (two of which are virtual strangers), but the rent's only $253/mo + utilities, and it's right next to the College of Business on ISU's campus -- super close to DT Normal bus terminal and my summer employer's lab (from which the wren wagon leaves every morning). I can sell the parking space for extra cash since I'm not going to have a car. They have cable and wireless interwebs. I'm not sure if they're 4/20-friendly, but that doesn't matter too much to me, since I'll be too broke to support any of my habits for too much longer.

I'm going to see if I can move in ASAP -- I haven't actually seen my dad since I moved all my stuff back home, as he's a workaholic and I live like a hermit in my room to avoid pissing anyone off, HOWEVER, I'm not looking forward to the eventual confrontation. He's leaving for Jackson Hole, WY on Saturday and will be there until early June, so I'm hoping I can craftily maneuver my way into my new living situation before he gets back.

Haha, my grades are funny, except not so much.

Not much else is new with me, actually. I spent last weekend with Jimmy in Bridgeview with his family. We made a few trips to the city; I got to see Paige.

The drive up was hellish. Jimmy's brother Chris came to get us; Jimmy called a couple days before his brother was supposed to come and asked if he would be willing to offer vehicular support to my move-out effort, since I was going to be going with them to Chicago, and Chris seemed more than willing to help... until he got here and realized that moving out of a space one has occupied for the better part of ten months takes more than twenty minutes (!). He got progressively angrier as the day wore on, even though it only took three hours all told for Jimmy to get all his stuff in the truck and for me to get all of my stuff back to my house (turns out Chris didn't even have enough room in the truck for any more than a tiny proportion of my belongings, so I had to use the Geo to move out), fill out all the paperwork, and return the minifridge to my dad's office. It would have been a much quicker process were it not Friday during finals week -- there was little to no parking for about a 12-hour period within a half block of my dorm, and the garbage trucks continually invaded the mess, blocking the one-way street outside Whitten for 30 minutes at a time.

Chris seemed cool enough for a little while -- I made sure to voice my gratitude almost constantly for three hours, and near the end was as apologetic as possible about the delays -- but then he turned into a little immature bitch!! It took us quite a long while to get back to Chicago because of traffic. I was crammed into the back "seat" -- or what passes for one in a two-seater cab of a truck -- a tiny, only-as-big-as-half-my-butt sideways-facing metal plank with some padding on it and a seatbelt. As if this wasn't unpleasant enough, I had to deal with Chris's random outbursts every fifteen or so minutes. This is a guy who never comes around the family house because of issues with Papa Zenik; Chris rarely gets to see Jimmy between the family issues and Jimmy being away at school. Even when the traffic was perfectly fine, Chris wouldn't interact with us at all without snapping. At one point, Jimmy asked if Chris was going to get their mom anything for Mother's Day, and the guy was like, "When?! I don't have fucking time!" Yeah, just like you don't have time to talk to the brother you see twice a year while you're IN A CAR WITH HIM.

Apparently Chris is a cop who is also attending DePaul -- going to law school. I understand that this places a lot of demands on a person's time, but no one was pointing a gun to his head ordering him to come down and help his brother move out -- he offered to do it, and he knew in advance that he would be helping move me out also -- another chore he seemed perfectly willing to perform until he actually had to do it. When we got closer to Chicago, he proceeded to call their mom and rant about us as if we were delinquent five-year-olds who had smeared crap on his walls or something -- apparently oblivious to the fact that we were sitting right there!

Now, I've developed this incredibly bad habit of confusing my emotional input and output; these days, when I get extraordinarily ticked off, I just cry. The only time I yell angrily is when I'm mildly annoyed. So I'm squashed in the back of this truck cab listening to this guy rant to his mother about how Jimmy and I are completely irresponsibly and don't know how to manage time, about all the "more important" things he has to do, et cetera, and I just lose my shit. The effort of keeping myself from reaching out and giving his thinning hair a good yank makes the tears form, and by the time we get to our destination, I have the enormously attractive, sticky red, puffy face of a premature newborn. Jimmy's brother is the only member of his family that I haven't managed to make a decent impression on so far, and the fact that he made me so upset that I ruined my passable looks and looked like hell by the time Jimmy's mom came out to greet us makes me want to write him off as "That Guy Who Hates Everybody So I Shouldn't Feel Bad That He Was a Jerk To Me", especially considering the rest of the family has been so nice to me. And I was encouraged to hold that opinion by Jimmy's parents, who assured me that Chris handles even marginal delays like a toddler refused 25 cents for the K-Mart candy machines.

The rest of the weekend more than made up for the crapfulness of that time, though. On Sunday night, Jimmy and I got a room at a sleazy motel (with a hot tub, though!) for some "us" time (considering "us" time was practically impossible sleeping next to his parents' bedroom). He was sweet and accommodating all weekend, quite honestly...

... and now my roomy single bed is no longer looking all that attractive. Poo.


And My Wife Thinks You're Dead 

Listening to: "I Was Wrong" - Trost


I have had a rocky couple of days, and was convinced for about a 24-hour period that it might be better to illegally pitch a tent in Fairview Park than live at home this summer. I have about $200 to my name right now, most of which is going toward a tattoo I'm getting in less than a week, for which I've already put down a $20 deposit. I owe my dad whatever is left after that plus what I get paid Thursday next. Apparently the check I mailed almost a month ago never got where it was supposed to go, and another VISA bill arrived.

I've decided that I'm no longer going to attempt to explain anything to my dad, because he seems so fond of voicing his own assumptions before the fact; I'd hate to take away his fun. Seriously, the guy's a scientist -- all he ever does is prove himself wrong or maybe possibly right until someone else proves him wrong. Upon constructive thought, it makes sense that he'd like to indulge in carelessly worded, violently voiced assumptions in his personal life.

I still don't want to live at home if I can find a way around it. I'm thinking very hard, but nothing seems to be coming to mind. The problem isn't money per se; I'd be fine if I didn't have to put down first month's rent right away. I was thinking maybe Section 8 housing would be okay at least for the summer, but I was talking to Ryan about it and he told me one of his friends had his wall shot out last year over there. Thank you, Chicago, for attempting to foist all of your poor and desperate people on a white-bread town like Blo-No. Damn Patriot Act.

I'm thinking about offering my dad some sort of nominal monthly fee if he and Anne will just leave me the fuck alone this summer and pretend I'm just a boarder for the season instead of someone they can freely take great pleasure in regularly driving to tears. I'll have three jobs this summer; I doubt I'll want to spend my free time bashing myself against the impenetrable, new and improved, unified parent wall of cold, calculated logic.

I'm not attending ISU in the fall. It's something I haven't yet told my dad, and I hope I won't have to until he outright asks. I'm dropping out, getting my own place in the fall with the money I save up this summer, and taking a couple classes at Heartland (seeing as they're $50 $74 [thanks John] per credit hour instead of, say, $750). I'm so tired of being manipulated by my dad's purse strings that abject poverty sounds like heaven to me right now. I wish I could grit my teeth and take it for another couple of years, but I'm just not designed to hold up under that kind of duress. Careful reflection over the past few months has revealed to me that my dad has his whole life motivated me to achieve life goals he views as required for some sort of Child of S.K.S. major purely through guilt, mostly financial. And while he's pissing and moaning about how much of his money I'm wasting, he still seems to have no trouble financing Anne's yoga classes and Hannah's piano lessons and seasonal overseas trips to Germany. If my two siblings can achieve and be proud of their progress under such subtle tyranny, then I say: let them have the goddamn money.



Just To Tell You Once Again 

Listening to: "Vagrancy" - Tsutchie

Last weekend was pretty fun. Most of it was pretty uneventful. Sunday, Jim and I lazed around all day and then decided to pack in with a few of his buddies for a pizza run to Chicago. Since it was such short notice, I couldn't meet up with any of my Chi-town peeps, but it was still an adventure.

(Hint: To see the images full-size in a separate window, right click and select "View Image")



Here's a blurry picture on I-55 -- my new buddy Kramer went a little picture crazy during the entire excursion. Kramer's a big guy; he, Jim, and I were crammed into the back seat, while the skinniest person in the car drove with the seat pulled back into a comfortable, relaxed position! I couldn't even put my feet on either side of the backseat median; Jim and I literally shared a seat!



As you can see by the color of the sky, we didn't actually get into the city until around 7:45pm. We made fun of all of the big light-billboards for the 2016 Olympics and proceeded to look for a parking garage.



Here's where we went for dinner on Justin's recommendation, and it was pretty damn decent; the food was hearty and authentic and (surprisingly!) not badly priced, and the atmosphere was relaxed and spacious -- these are all winning qualities, given the place is right on Clarke and Fullerton in the Lincoln Park area!



Here's a picture I took of the guys after we had finished eating. From left to right -- Back Row: Kramer, Justin, and Happy Jack -- Front: Jimmy.



Here's a crappy shot of Happy bowling. The guy has a canon-arm! On his last shot, he rolled the ball into the gutter, from which it bounced right into the center pin, giving him a parting spare. I still beat him, though!



Here's Jimmy taking the conservative approach. He broke fifty, but he still came in last place...



After being in last place for most of the game, I managed to secure a cool third place thanks to some tips from Josh. Thanks, Kramer!



Jim's response when Kramer suggested he wasn't a very good ball-handler. Notice Justin's interested gaze.



This picture was taken when I was actually starting to get into the game. Kramer turned out to be the pack-leader for most of the game, but was whipped into second by a few collected shots by Justin near the end.



The caption for this shot is: "My love for you is like a truck, Berserker
Would you like some making fuck, Berserker".



On the way back, Happy agreed to sit in the back and give Kramer shotgun, even though the car is Happy's! I got pretty tired after this shot was taken and proceeded to pass out for most of the duration of the drive home.


But the Baby Died in the Morning 

Listening to: "Human Behavior" - Bjork

Well, Easter was nice. I went to the south burbs with Jimmy and we spent the weekend with his family. I ate a lot of Polish food (re: meat, meat, meat) and drank a lot of aged whiskey. Some of Jimmy's parents' friends were visiting with their two daughters, Patricia and Kasha, 23 and 25 respectively. We drove into town Saturday night after a little pre-drinking (bad idea) so the girls could go to a Chi-town bar. We ended up somewhere around Damen and Division; they went to Goldstar, and Jimmy and I walked a few blocks to the Hollywood diner. I ate so much food that weekend that I can't believe I'm still alive. We ate Arabic for two meals, enjoyed some nice hookah, went to a cafe with Jimmy's friends Brian and Larry and Brian's little sister T-bone. I discovered there that Jim and Brian cannot eat meals together, because they laugh so much together that most of the food ends up in a half-chewed mess all over the table, the floor, their faces and clothes. On Sunday, we went to Jim's friend Billy's to get our hairs cut. I've got a bunch of layers now (so much for getting dreads anytime soon), and Jim's got this crazy rockstar insane musician look going on that I rather like.

I finally made an appointment with Artkore to get the Armstrong Clan motto tattooed on the back of my right shoulder blade. The tattoo's pretty sizeable, but it's just simple Roman lettering, so it's going to cost me about $150, on top of the $20 deposit I made when I went in to make the appointment. May 2 is D-day, and I've already enlisted four or five people to come with for moral support.

As for everything else, it's up and down. I'm not doing too well academically, but I still have hope that I'll manage to pull off passing grades in all my classes.

I've been thinking very seriously about changing my major. Jimmy's not going to be done school for another two years or so, and I am sick to death of the English major. I'm thinking either Poli Sci, History, or Philosophy... but we'll have to see. I'm well aware that it's pretty crazy to change majors during one's junior year, and because of that, I think I'm going to ask my dad to take his wallet out of the equation so I can take out a bunch of loans and just stay in school as long as I want. If I get certified and start teaching, I can legallly default on my loans anyway.

I've been making a lot of plans with Jimmy, which would seem a bit crazy to me were it not for the fact that everything seems to make sense with him. We're planning on moving to Chicago after we're done school; his parents are going to get us a condo in the burbs, for which we can pay them back gradually. Everything seems to be falling into place and it's so weird -- I've never had plans for anything more than a month away. I've always lived my life on a pretty short time-span. But I'm strangely comfortable, and I think everything is going to work out well.


Vein Supreme 

Listening to: "Symphony 1, op. 21 - I" - Ludwig Van

What a crazy couple of weeks I've had. I seem to have found a romantic partner who, while far from flawless, is completely perfect for me. Jim and I have basically been living out of his small single dorm room for a couple weeks now, not only without conflict, but with growing awe at how well we function together and how much we enjoy one another's company. He treats me better than anyone I've dated has even thought about treating me -- he's beyond considerate; he manages to think of every single tiny thing he can do throughout my day to make it better. He deals with his life in a very straight-forward manner, always simplifying rather than complicating, and he never gets upset about the little annoyances people tend to stress over. He treats me as if he's been waiting his entire life to find someone just like me; I can't help but to be a bit surprised, as I've never imagined myself as anyone's epitome of romantic interest before.

It's hard to even describe properly. We laugh so much together, and although I'm plagued by worries about my school work and my financial situation, I can't help but think that everything's going to be okay, because he'll help me deal with whatever obstacles I'll face. That kind of security is something I've never had in anyone, and he offers it with so much ease, as if it's not a big thing to constantly be there for someone.

I'll admit, things have been progressing pretty quickly. I've already met his parents and his grandparents (and I'll be spending Easter weekend with his family as well); he asked me to move in with him next semester before he even thought to alert his future roommates about the possible change in arrangements (turns out one of them is a prudish Baptist who "wouldn't be comfortable sharing quarters with a woman"). He makes very few demands of me, and the ones he does make are quite easy to meet. He's asked that I stop wearing any sort of make-up, concealer or otherwise, and I've been happy to oblige. It's been eleven years; it's time to stop using foundation as some sort of a security blanket, and when I look at myself in the mirror now, I honestly don't find myself to be disgusted -- my skin really isn't so bad, and my features are handsome enough that I don't look hideous without any augmentation. Also, it's so much easier! I can't believe how much I missed just rolling out of bed, throwing on my clothes, tying back my hair and just walking out the door. Now I hardly need Jim's assurance every morning that I'm beautiful before I can venture out, but he still offers it anyway.

Ah, well -- I hope everything is going well for all of my buds.


It's Settled: I'm Having The Best Week Ever! 

Listening to: "Sexuality" - Prince

So, Chicago? Pretty goddamn awesome. KC? Absolutely lovely. And it turns out I had a nice post-trip treat waiting for me back in ol' B/N.

Most of the Chicago trip was excellently documented by my mom. I have a lot of pictures, a few of which I can share while I expound upon my adventure in the Big, Big City.



The train coming out of Bloomington on Friday (3/9) was an hour late, as is to be expected with Amtrak-related ventures. Dan and I got into Chicago proper around 1pm, met up with his Aunt after some mixed up wandering and a couple cases of mistaken identity. We went for some Thai after that, then Dan and I headed off to the Cultural Center for some free brochures/maps/etc. After meeting back up with Dan's Aunt, we took a short jaunt to an El-station and I took the blue line train for forty-five minutes northwest to O'Hare. Mom's plane was several hours late; we met up at the baggage claim and stood around catching up for twenty minutes while waiting for the complimentary Super 8 airport shuttle, and pretty much crashed out when we got into the room.

The next morning, Ma took a picture of me just sitting in the hotel room (above). She has a new camera and hasn't gotten tired of playing with it yet. Although it was early and I had slept poorly, I tried at a smirk for her.



Day 2: Mom and I met up with Ellen and ate some brunch at a Cosi, after which we regrouped and headed to the Museum of Contemporary Art. The lobby walls were covered with foil-like stuff perfect for writing on, and we did, since we were being encouraged by posted signs to write on the walls (don't think that I would go out of my way to desecrate some beautiful MCA stuff!).



Dan met Ellen and I at the MCA, and we went through the place as completely as we could without dawdling too long. We saw some mega-huge goldfish, and a really cool film exhibit about female vocalists in Iran, among other amazing stuff! After we had finished inside, the group of us headed outside for some pictures; Mom took this picture of Dan, Ellen and I posing like the sculptures in front of the museum:



Yeah, we're pretty much the shit. Even if we are blatant tourists -- well, except for Ellen, but I don't think she minded goofing off with us!



After our exhausting day trip to the MCA, Ellen took us to this lovely Asian cafe. I had the caterpillar rolls. For dessert, the four of us shared the Bamba, which is the best dessert I have ever eaten! Explaining it would only tarnish its perfection.

After Tamarind, Ellen, Dan and I escorted my mom to the nearest Blue Line station, and she headed back to the hotel. Dan, Ellen, and I went to Ellen's boyfriend's place (far northeast side) to play poker and goof off. I ended up getting back to the hotel room at 2:30am -- Dan didn't get home until 5am!



Day 3: Mom and I decide to attempt to find the Museum of Science and Industry without any aid. We took the green line through the SOWF SIDE, ended up getting a little turned around and found ourselves at the Dusable Museum of African American history instead. I got some very beautiful postcards!

We did eventually make it to the Museum of Science and Industry, and we realized how foolish it was to think that we had budgeted enough time to spend there. The place was huge; I could have walked around for days!



The naval room in the MoS&I was the cutest thing ever! Look at me with this model of the Leviathan. Isn't it the cutest little liner ever?

Dan met my mom and I for some dinner at a Steakhouse. Dan found some really greasy Mac&Cheese to munch on since he's a vegetarian, but I'm pretty sure it had some meat in it, because he got dreadfully ill later!!

After Mom headed back to the hotel, Dan and I hit up Erik for some good times. We took a walk through Hyde Park; Erik showed us where he vandalized part of the bridge for his movie, Placebo. We also saw Erik's favorite sculpture in Chicago, which is of a man giving a giant fish a big hug -- it's in front of the Shedd. We went behind the Shedd and the view of the skyline from there was phenomenal! And it was so quiet! After our walk, Dan and I chilled with Erik for a little while; Ellen came over with her boyfriend, and we all chilled until Dan was well enough to walk to the El-station.



Day 4: Mom and I decided to take it pretty easy today. We went to the Museum of Contemporary Photography and saw the awesome "love hotel" exhibition.



See the bondage gear?



Later that day, Mom and I went up to Alyssa's neck of the woods to chow down on some Ethiopian cuisine par excellence. We crammed an entire chef's platter into our gaping, hungry mouths, and then we took the above picture.



Day 5: I was supposed to be on the 9:35am train and I missed it by ten minutes, because we went to the wrong train station. It's a good thing I did, though, because then we had time to go to the Art Institute of Chicago... It was seriously the bomb.



Here's a detail of Monet's "Two Sisters"... which, yes, we saw in the flesh paint.



Hmm, mom has this big platonic art crush on Frank Lloyd Wright. I bet she creamed her pants a few times looking at some of these pieces!



That's Union Station, where I got mugged right before hopping on the train. But don't worry, I'm okay and my bank card is canceled and there wasn't much cash in there anyway.

I got back into town around 4:30pm. Dan and his friends met me at the station, and from there we proceeded pretty much directly to procure various vehicles and ride out to Funks' Grove for some much needed nature R&R. Unfortunately, I fell ass-first into a creek. But that's okay. Dan and I got pretty early nights, and we ran around B/N the next morning until we had our shit together enough to head to KC.

KC was pretty amazing. Chrissy is getting to know some very interesting individuals, and she's eeked out some familiarity for herself among the overwhelming surroundings. KC really is the somewhere that is nowhere! Chrissy's roommate Alex turned out to be extremely generous and good-natured. She cooked us spaghetti the first night we were in town.

Before we left the city, we got to see Chrissy's studio, and we got to go on a day-trip to Swoope Park, which is just outside KC. Chrissy tells me that the boulders there make it look just like a mini Jackson Park, whatever that means.

The drive back was relatively uneventful; I drove the entire way and didn't feel completely exhausted until we got back into town. Pretty good, considering I'd been sleeping on a short couch for three nights!

And, so, now I'm back here in Blo-No, not without some amount of regret.



Fortunately, this charmer decided it was high time I fall in-like with someone. I got my own private piano concert last night, followed by an endless night of laughing and studying and licorice tea and cigarettes and music and other less mentionable but still incredibly enjoyable activities.