Figment

No Brainer

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 00:36:34 GMT

I love the prompt for today: "If you could get your exercise by taking a pill, would you? Why or why not?"

Um, obviously. Do I even need to say why?

SO

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 16:51:54 GMT

I'm back in Syracuse. Natalie is here. I picked her up at the airport last night. This is a huge relief because being here by myself always feels weird and lonely. But now everything is as it should be again and this morning while I was making bacon, Natalie came in and we talked about dudes. It was awesome.

Also, even though I really didn't want to come back to Syracuse (I miss Ryden, and this year we're both going to have insane schedules, so seeing each other once every two weeks will probably not be doable; see also: I don't want to teach), at least being here means that this super stressful summer is almost over. I was home for sixish days after Europe, during which my dad picked fights with everyone and then got surgery. He decided that we shouldn't have gone to Europe, not for monetary reasons, which I could understand, but because airplanes are bad for the environment. And then he felt the need for us to talk about this several times a day. This is the same guy who took us all on a cruise to Alaska last summer. Because cruises are AWESOME for the environment. I would say that his muscle relaxants are making him cuckoo, but actually, if you know my dad at all, this sort of reasoning is pretty much par for the course. I was getting high on Carroll's porch with her and Nadxi the other night and Nadxi said something like, I think life from here on out is just going to be this way, and I said, fuuuuuuuck.

Anyway, then I got to go to Columbus for a few days. Since the food in Barcelona was sort of a bust, Ryden and I went to this Spanish restaurant (also called Barcelona), which was sort of pricey, but fabulous. Mostly. We got this tapas platter which had, among other things, grilled apricots filled with goat cheese and bacon. It was like a dream. However, it also had grilled baby octopus on a bed of greens. When we ordered this, I assumed it would be sort of calamari-like. However, we ended up with this whole grilled octopus just sitting on top of some lettuce. Ryden pushed the plate towards me and I pushed it back.

We also saw "Moon," which I've been hoping to see all summer and then, as I probably should have expected, it turned out to be a huge letdown. At first I thought I just didn't get it, but now I think there are actually pretty big logical holes. That, and I didn't think it was very emotionally credible. I don't want to be a jerk and ruin it or anything, but there's a pretty big twist maybe a third of the way through the movie and suffice it to say that if this twist had happened to me, I would have flipped my shit, not calmly continued painting a model of my hometown. I don't know. Did anyone see it? Did you like it? Please explain to me why I'm wrong because I really did want to like it.

It's hot. Later I will go to the pool.

Abroad

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 10:03:34 GMT

Some things about Spain:
Toilets have a lot less water.
It´s almost impossible to find chicken. And turkey? Get out of here!
There is very little grass.

This all makes it sound negative, but I really, really don´t want to leave.

Dog Days

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 21:40:26 GMT

My rash went away.
I went to Comfest.
My rash came back.
I went to some fireworks and Ryden almost got hit by a car (again).
I moved home.
I saw some bad movies (Year One, Bruno) and one all right one (Cheri).
I saw some Ultrasounds shows.
My doctor put me back on roids and my rash went away, but then I couldn't sleep.
Thad died.
We went to Thad's funeral.
We changed every detail about the Europe trip, practically, except that we're still going, which involved a lot of fighting.

We leave for Chicago tomorrow, and from there, Spain.

Bon voyage!

Stock Taking

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 16:37:25 GMT

Is it inevitable that the minute I'm off my parents' insurance, I seem to be constantly sick? I think, yes. See, there's another wrinkle (hopefully the last) in the whole saga of this summer. On Monday, I started developing this glorious, full-body rash. This shit was on my ears, folks. We're talking toes, fingertips, scalp, everything. Gross. Turns out, however, that it's totally normal: 80-90% of people, I guess, who are on amoxocillin and have mono get it. And luckily the doctor let me go off the antibiotics a little early because of it. In the meantime, I've been religiously taking oatmeal baths and smearing myself with this diaper rash ointment Ryden got for his last tattoo. Unfortunately, it's still not out of my system. Hopefully soon. The mono has been holding steady at not-that-bad. I've got one more week-ish here. Maybe by then I'll be well and stay well. Until I go to Spain and get swine flu. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Okay, one, it's months too late for a swine flu joke. Two, now that I said that, I'm sure I've jinxed myself, because the universe obviously reads my blog, etc. etc.

I'm almost done with the second story I've written since I got off school. This probably doesn't sound all that impressive, but I hadn't been doing so hot on the productivity front all year, so it seems awesome. I set myself a goal to write three solid stories this summer, and so far I'm on schedule. Check. My reading list is also going well. I'm working on Eat the Document now, which I'm not, to be honest, a huge fan of, but before-and-after stuff like this has never really been my thing. Next up: Joan Didion (I've never read anything by her which should probably deeply embarrass me), Wells Tower, more Nabakov. And I'm trying to catch up on some movies I should have seen, but hadn't. I rented "Taxi Driver" last week and stupidly finished it, yesterday, while eating lunch. I wasn't a huge fan, really, except for the parts that I thought were completely hilarious. The same guy was working when I returned the video as when I checked it out, and when he asked me what I thought of it, and I told him it was funny, he looked at me like I was unbalanced. Why so serious, Video Central guy?

The idea of leaving now seems sort of silly because I just feel like I've stopped getting lost all the time. And, obviously, the idea of going back to a long distance relationship gives me the sads.

Hahahahahahaha

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 15:37:50 GMT

Well, Ryden pulled it together and took us back to Urgent Care yesterday. I brought along a plastic bag in case he had to vom. He had to go anyway, though: He told his work he thought he had strep, so he had to go get a culture just to appease them. Anyway, I signed in first, and they took me almost right away. The doctor asked what the problem was. Then he felt my lymph nodes and looked shocked. He announced they were going to give me a mono test. As soon as he said it, I just started laughing, because, of course. Tired all this time? After college, you'd think I'd have been able to diagnose myself in a heartbeat.

Obviously, yes, I had mono. I told the doctor that the next guy on the list was my boyfriend, and he should probably test him as well. So Ryden got this mono test seemingly for no reason, and the doctor came back and said, "You don't have mono, but your girlfriend does." Better me than him. If he had to cut back on work at all, he'd be fucked. I, on the other hand, while sad that I'm squandering the best job ever, am extraordinarily lucky. When I called Dirk to tell him the news, he said, well that's okay, because the girls are getting to go to New York next week, so we were already going to cancel. But we'll pay you, anyway.

Score.

I'd assured Dirk repeatedly how hard it was to catch. I said, "my boyfriend doesn't have it." He was wondering, though: I guess Marissa's been sleeping all day for the past five and insists she can't help it. He wasn't upset or anything, but I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how I could've given it to her. Ryden said, "maybe she gave it to you." Maybe. Oh, illness.

The bad news: I have mono for my last few weeks in Columbus. It's summer, and I'd rather be outside, taking walks. My mom is flipping out because, when my dad had mono, he was sick for several months. I pointed out that he 1) was much older, 2) had a full time job with a long commute, 3) was in bad health, anyway, and 4) had a 1-year-old (me) to chase after; plus, I didn't feel as tired in the first place as I would have imagined mono made you feel. I thought I had allergies. The only reason I went in was the sore throat. The good news: I'm getting paid to not do my job. I haven't been leading the most active lifestyle, anyway, so this doesn't change much. Now I just get to watch even more movies. Last night we caught "Zoo" and "Capturing the Friedmans." I want to watch the one where dudes talk about their penises, sort of a Vagina Monologues deal, but Ryden freaked out in "Zoo" when he thought we were going to see a naked guy, so this might be a solo venture.

Nap time!

Sick Breath

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 15:06:44 GMT

I love Columbus, but something about it doesn't agree with my constitution. I've been feeling low-grade shitty literally the whole time I've been here, which bloomed into full-on horrible this past weekend. Ryden and I spent Sunday at his mom's house and they were both trying to get me to go to the doctor, but I was like, no no, because my insurance never covers anything, etc. Well. Then I woke up Monday with a throbbing earache and Ryden drove me to Urgent Care. Then he took me to his mom's house in New Albany and I spent all day passed out there. His mom came home for lunch and gave me soup because she's nice.

So, it turns out that I have strep and an ear infection. Or maybe I have strep. The doctor said that "whatever is going on" with my throat, the antibiotics for the ear infection would also take care of it. I would have preferred something less tentative on the diagnosis front, especially because I've been on amoxicillin (which, by the way, tastes like toejam) for 48 hours now and don't really feel any better. I was supposed to go home today and now I can't. Sad face. Well, and also Ryden went out to the bar for "one drink" last night and I passed out watching "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" because I was too sick to go. Next thing I know, it's 2:30 in the morning and he isn't home yet. You can probably see where this is going. ANYWAY, because of this, I wasn't able to sleep more than two hours at once last night. THANKS BOYFRIEND.

That isn't really fair. Ryden does tons of awesome and nice things all the time and ordinarily I feel like I would be more understanding in this situation because I've definitely been there - Kentucky Derby party, anyone? - but because I was already sick and we were contemplating me going back to Urgent Care, possibly the ER, I feel like he kind of dropped the ball because I will definitely have to take myself to either of those places now. Well, obviously I'm well enough to blog about it, so probably I should stop complaining.

I hope I can get this figured out in time to work on Friday. They canceled on Monday, which was pretty excellent, because I definitely couldn't have gone. The nannying job is the stuff, I'm telling you. These girls are perfect robots. They're mom leaves them a list of chores, and when I get there, they work through the list without complaint, then make themselves lunch, then neatly load all the plates in the dishwasher. If I suggest a thing to do, they say, sure. I was worried, going in, because I wasn't very well briefed on house rules, but I shouldn't have been concerned. We were at the video store, and I asked them to pick something. Marissa said, "We haven't seen 'Marley and Me.'" Later, their friend came over. Megan said, "We can't play. We have a baby-sitter." OH MY GOD.

Easy Come, Easy Go

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 30 May 2009 18:55:46 GMT

So much for Sbarro. I told myself I could handle anything for two months, but that didn't prove to be the case with my managers' constant racist jokes and insinuations that I have an eating disorder. I came home from work last Saturday and told Ryden about stuff Derrick had said, and he asked me to quit. I said, I wish, but where would I get another job? Well. The next day, Ryden's aunt Toni called and said that her boyfriend needed someone to take his two teenage daughters to the pool twice a week once their school lets out, for which he was willing to pay a whole bundle for some reason. I said, yes please.

Then I came into work on Wednesday and quit. I said I could finish out the week, but that was it. The thing is that the nannying job doesn't start until the week after next, so I technically could have worked for another two weeks. And Wednesday night was kind of all right. I closed with Umberto and Lupe, it was way laid back, I got out early, etc. etc. I started to feel kind of bad; I considered calling Derrick and saying I could work next week after all. Then, last night, he and Mike were in the back, mixing dough and making Karen Carpenter jokes about me, and any vestige of good will I had, well. I didn't have it anymore.

For your reading pleasure, a few of the choice lines that caused me to quit in the first place:

DERRICK (to HECTOR and FONZI): I know you guys like to be on Mexican time, but that is just not acceptable here.

DERRICK (to ME): You know why DP doesn't put napkins on trays?
ME: No Derrick, why DOES DP not put napkins on trays? (actually, I said, "no")
DERRICK: Because they're white hahahahaha
ME: Um

MIKE (to ME): This is Hortensia.
HORTENSIA: Hi
ME: Hi
MIKE: Hortensia had my baby.

WHAT?

FONZI (to HECTOR): Stuff in Spanish I don't understand
FONZI (to ME): How old are you?
ME: Why do you want to know?
HECTOR: snicker
FONZI: I just do
ME: Okay. I'm 23. How old are you?
FONZI: Do you have a boyfriend?
ME: Yes (eye roll)
FONZI: I'm so jealous hahahahaha

Fucking philistines.

Tonight is my last night. Coincidentally, after being sickish for a couple of days, I seem to be losing my voice. I'm sure having to yell at customers tonight will only make this better. But Derrick would totally murder me if I called off tonight of all nights, and I could use the money, and bla bla bla bla bla. Whatever. I'll go in. Maybe I can just do dishes or something.

Yawn

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Tue, 19 May 2009 23:42:34 GMT

I realized what's wrong with Syracuse. While it has more stuff than Galesburg - see: real book stores, ethnic food, etc. - there's nothing that's distinctive. Or maybe I mean that there's nothing I've discovered yet in Syracuse that I really crave when I'm not there, other than, of course, friends. Even Galesburg has crave-able stuff. The best grilled cheese ever, for example. A still-operational drive-in. The cheapest of everything. Syracuse has a lot of yuppie sandwich shops. I have a hard time getting attached to yuppie sandwich shops.

Even in my short time here, Columbus has really grown on me. The local art scene is possibly more awesome than anywhere else I've ever lived. The live music is great. Last Sunday, Ryden, Allan, and I walked to Chateau d'Awesome to watch "Omega Cop" on a big projector in the backyard. Audience participation was encouraged. When one of Omega Cop's lesser cop friends hurled a grenade into a post-apocalyptic brothel, Allan chucked an empty bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the screen.

The one thing that hasn't grown on me is Columbus drivers. Example: On the way to Chateau d'Awesome, Ryden and I were crossing the street and he got hit by a car. I was walking a little behind him and barely missed it. Basically Ryden was halfway up this woman's windshield before she noticed anything was happening, and that was only because he banged on her car. Then she sped away without even stopping to ask if he was all right. I should have gotten her license plate number. Also, this is on the same street where I got in the car accident over spring break. Loathing.

Ryden took the day off yesterday to go to the doctor and get things checked out. I was supposed to have the day off, but I got called in to work because one of the servers quit without notice. I'm never excited about going into Sbarro, but yesterday was really the best case scenario. I had Huberto, the cool manager. We were slow for a few hours, and he wheeled the desk chair out of the back room and situated it behind me, urging, "Sit!" Lupe was there for the last hour, in a characteristically bad mood. I asked her how she was, and she grunted. Then I asked what was wrong. "WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP ASKING ME THAT??" Uh, I don't know?

This is my 990th entry, apparently. That's a lot of entries.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 09 May 2009 19:07:14 GMT

TABBY: The entirety of this post is in a letter to you which I'm mailing this weekend. So, don't read this. Can I send it to the same address as before? I know you're moving soon. Let me know.

I have a job. It's at - wait for it, wait for it - Sbarro. I sell mall pizza. My job is to pick slices of pizza up on a spatula, put them in an oven, wait, take them out of the oven, and put them in a cardboard box. For this, I am getting paid more than I was at Border's to do, like, ten times more. Yes, this is mortifying. But I'm not too proud to take a shitty food service job, especially since I'm quitting in two months TO GO TO SPAIN. Ryden and I bought the tickets on Monday night. My parents will probably freak out at the possibility of me getting swine flu. Eh.

At least they won't freak out about me being unemployed. For some reason, I had to go in for two separate interviews to get this job, even though, as one of my bosses put it, "it's not rocket science." The first interview was decidedly the most ridiculous. Derek is fond of cute acronyms, like TEAM: Together Everyone Achieves More. Also, this: One of the first questions he asked me during my interview was, "In the equation '2 + 2 = 4,' what element are you?" After thinking it over, I finally said I was the "=" sign, adding some bullshit about how I bring the team together because, like, I'm awesome. But wait. Derek said, "The answer I was really looking for was '4,' because the 4 is the team." The thing is, that I thought about saying I was the "4," but then I said to myself, self, that is a really conceited thing to say - hey boss, you can fire all these SUCKAS, I AM the team! - and also makes no sense. How can one person be, like, 12 people. BUT I DIGRESS.

Before I left, Derek told me that I should be less guarded in job interviews: "I don't run a rigid shop here. We're all family. Whatever you can do in front of your family, you can do in front of me."

I wanted to give that its own paragraph, because it might be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. It begs the question: So, I could just go up and grab some of this pizza, right? Because it's free? Because this is a family, right? And we share? So if I don't show up to work for a week, I still have a job? Is that cool? All right, sweet. And then I wanted to rip the world's hugest fart, just to see what he would do.

Anyway, I have a job. It will probably suck, but whatever. Tonight, Ryden and I are going back to the Deuce so he can meet my parents. This could also suck, but I hope it won't. Actually, I got a really shocking email from my mom last night, in which she asked, "I assume Ryden is staying with us Saturday night. What were you thinking as far as sleeping arrangements?" This is not a question I ever expected to hear.

A Quandry

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 20:04:59 GMT

I made another pilgrimage to Massachusetts this weekend - Boston on Friday and Saturday, and Amherst yesterday. Last night Sarah, her boyfriend, her friend Miranda and I got pho and ice cream, and this morning Kate took me to Miss Florence's Cafe in Florence. All the tables had their own tiny jukeboxes, and we chose "Rocket Man" and "Let it Be." Maybe depressing breakfast songs? Still, awesome.

Boston was also amazing. I stayed with Laura and Andreu again, and I got to see Bobbo and Mike, and our friend Matt from college. We went over to his place Friday night. One of his roommates had just had a birthday, and as a joke, they'd all gotten him half a dozen issues of porn. I realized that I'd never actually looked through a print porn before. Is that weird? That's a silly question, because you know what IS weird? Porn. Example: All of these magazines had a section where men could write in with notes to their favorite models. One of the letters went something like this: Dear Jade, You really turn my crank. I have your picture taped to my ceiling. Every time I jack off to you, I cum in a Dixie cup. Then I leave them on my windowsill to get hard.

Yeah. I found this so bizarre that I was skeptical a real dude actually wrote it, or rather, I was skeptical that the person who wrote it wasn't making it up. So, what do you think, readers? Does Bob from Virginia really cum in Dixie cups? Does he want Jade to know about it? Sarah, Matt, and Miranda all said yes, so maybe I should accept that I'm sheltered, but I don't know.

The year is winding down really quickly. One more week of class. In a week and a half, I'm moving to Ohio for the summer. Still no job. I'm contemplating going back to Target, how badly that would make me want to kill myself. OH WELL. Until then: tonight is Neko Case! I realized that I saw the New Pornographers in Chicago a year ago today, and now her. Fabulous!

Grad School is Awesome

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 13:01:58 GMT

Couldn't get myself out of bed this morning without watching an episode of "Freaks and Geeks." I feel like I'm waking and baking or something. Is this normal? Discuss.

Heavy Rotation

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 03:04:07 GMT

So, last weekend was the weekend of field trips. Ryden was supposed to come visit and didn't, so I was sad, and instead on Saturday, Natalie and I drove up to the foothills of the Adirondacks and took pictures and saw a deer. And then Sunday she, Mikael, Lucius and I went to Palmyra, which, for those of you who don't know (like anyone would know this), is this town an hour from us where Joseph Smith was born, received the Book of Mormon, etc. Hill Cumorah, the hill where he received the Book of Mormon, and a few of his houses are all open to the public, and we decided to go check them out. On the way there, Mikael asked, "What should we do if they try to convert us?" and I said, haha. Well.

We walked into the visitors center at Hill Cumorah and met our tour guide, Sister Huff. She showed us this little kiosk of information about the different sites in the area, and then said, "Let me show you our meditation room." We said, okay. At that, Sister Huff ushers us into a room with, I kid you not, a twenty foot statue of Jesus. And this is cut-and-hunky Jesus. While I was gaping at this giant thing, Sister Huff closes one door, and then closes the other, and at that Lucius shot me this panicked look, and I thought, oh shit, because, I don't know, maybe this is unfair, but I seriously thought we were about to get reprogrammed.

That didn't happen. I'm still Alice, not some sort of Alice android. I realized after this trip that I tend to get a lot of aspects of Mormonism and Scientology mixed up, and that really isn't fair because, although Mormons are a little loopy in their own right, in my humble opinion, Scientologists are kind of off the scale of loopiness. So no, we didn't get reprogrammed. What did happen, though, was just really awkward. Sister Huff played us his recording of a reading from the Book of Mormon. While this happened, I was trying not to stare at the Jesus statue, but there was really no other option. And when it was over, she asked us, "What was your favorite part?" We all stared at her blankly, because none of us had been paying attention. And then, after she threw us a bone and told us about her favorite part, she asked us all, "What's your personal relationship with Jesus Christ?"

There was silence. After a minute or so, I started to feel guilty, because I suggested we come without realizing it was going to be so hardcore, so I said, oh, you know, I was raised in the church but I don't really practice, still, I think it's important to have faith. Only I was sitting underneath this dome, so everything I said echoed back - "I think it's important to have faith faith faith" - with this tinny sound, like toy microphones I had when I was a kid. Sister Duff got really excited and told us about how Jesus is always there for us. Then Mikael asked her how long she'd been at Palmyra and what she wanted to do when she was done, and when she said she wanted to finish school and get married, he asked, "Do you have anyone special in mind?" We were making fun of him for that for the rest of the day. To be fair, she was way hot.

We also went to Joseph Smith's birthplace, and one of his later homes, about three miles down the road, but that was less...dramatic. Next up: the Shakers! In the spirit of exploring, Elizabeth and I also tried out this vegan restaurant today before we taught the middle school class, but it was pretty bland. Surprise. Also, I guess the middle schoolers are sort of an adventure in and of themselves sometimes. I tried to teach a lesson on "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird," but they got a little stuck on the whole concept of a metaphor. Plus, none of them knew was "innuendos" were. I tried to give them an example, but all I could think of were penis jokes.

Just Keep Swimming

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 28 Feb 2009 19:11:54 GMT

I thought this past week was going to be one long pain in the ass, but it's turned out to be one cosmic gift after another, Wednesday in particular. It was warm enough out to wear cute shoes to the Sarah Manguso dinner, and Elizabeth and I's first day in the middle school was canceled - and thank god, because for some reason I'd broken out so badly they'd probably have thought I was one of them - so I had time to sit down and start my second story for Mary's class. The bad news is, the premise I had in mind didn't work so well. The good news is, I went back to this piece I started and abandoned last fall and discovered that it was the shit. Even better, I remembered having written only a page on it before giving up, but I'd actually written five plus. So I found this awesome, half-done story, and that immediately took about five tons of stress off my spring break. Which is cool, even though I can probably get a lot of work done in Columbus. I don't know what else I'd be doing while Ryden's at work, other than watching daytime court programs with Allan, not that that's not awesome.

Right now, they're doing the search for the new fiction professor. They're bringing in all the candidates this week and next week. I got to go to lunch with Alix Ohlin yesterday, which is another great thing about this week: free food. I was perplexed by the girls who ordered only salad. Do you want to spend more money on your groceries? I ordered an appetizer and an entree and I left with two more dinners' worth of food. But okay, aside from my gluttony. Katie asked her, how do you get motivated to write a novel, especially if you don't know that you can do it? And Alix said, you know, the great thing about writing in general is that no effort is ever wasted. She told us about how Michael Chabon spent like five years writing the novel before Wonderboys and it ended up sucking, but then he wrote Wonderboys in a month, or something crazy like that. So, she said, it doesn't matter if you're having a hard time right now because you never know what the pay-off will be as long as you write through it. And I breathed, oh, that's awesome, and then started laughing.

Also, last night Tony, Mikael, Francesco, and I went to our first non-MFA house party. It was with all the architecture professors, and they were all totally faced. One of them was DJing, all 70's songs, and another tried to do the worm, but was too drunk, and instead lay on the floor moving his arms and legs as if he were making snow angels.

Old Jeans

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Tue, 17 Feb 2009 16:50:36 GMT

I can't stop watching that Santogold video. Five or six times yesterday, and once so far today. So, unbelievable as this is, right, it's probably even better than the video for "Womanizer." I KNOW. Weird, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say, yes. Not that being good is even the main reason I watch videos, because I also watched the one for "American Boy" about four times yesterday. I heard it for the first time on the Grammy's when I was in Columbus, and Ryden spied Kanye's haircut and cracked, "Miami Vice called..."

Last weekend: AWP! I felt like I couldn't turn around without seeing someone from Knox. Syracuse was pretty well represented too - Mikael, Natalie, and I all took the overnight train together, and then there were a bunch of the guys from Salt Hill. Friday there was a totally all-star string of readers (Marilynne Robinson reading from "Gilead," Steve Almond and Jayne Anne Phillips on short shorts, and ZZ Packer reading from "Every Tongue Shall Confess"), plus we reception-hopped for free booze. Mikael announced his intentions to reach "peak inappropriate." I think he was the only one who didn't, though. Later, when Natalie and I gave into a KFC craving, he shook his head and said, "peak inappropriate." And later, when I drunkenly got some dude to take a picture of me with his pit bull outside the Damen stop, he and Natalie were standing in the doorway, laughing, "peak inappropriate!"

Some other news:
a) Tonight Mary Gaitskill is workshopping my story, the prospect of which makes me want to lose my lentil soup.
b) Tomorrow night Ryden is getting here, and then Thursday is my first grad school reading. I'm reading the one about the high school girls who stalk their geometry teacher and wearing my lime green stilettos.

I've got your crazy

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 04:38:23 GMT

My new favorite song is "Womanizer." No, actually, my new favorite music video is "Womanizer." That the song is involved is kind of incidental.

I spent two hours watching music videos on the internet today because I didn't want to write my final paper.

WOW

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 05:58:17 GMT

Okay, on one hand, I believe that our country is basically beyond repair regardless of who the president is. We will still be fundamentally sexist, capitalist, racist, etc. etc.

On the other hand, I mean, THANK GOD.

The Metaphysical World

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 18 Oct 2008 15:07:05 GMT

Over Yom Kippur, I had a whole week of school off for various reasons, so I decided to go to Amherst and Boston. I drove up to Amherst on Tuesday, left my car there, took the train to Boston on Thursday, took the train back on Sunday, drove home the same day. I don't know why I seem to like making all my trips on multiple modes of transportation, but I'm glad I had my car in Amherst because I got A $2.99 FILL UP. Yes, friends. I was sure I would never see one again. I actually said, "ARE YOU SERIOUS" aloud to myself in my car.

On my last day in Amherst, Sarah didn't have any class and she and I went to Emily Dickinson's house. The night before, we had gone to her grave. This was in part because Rob Smith once told Sarah that when he went to UMass, he used to go there at night, after the cemetery closed, and lie on her plot to better absorb her molecules. Beforehand, we went to the liquor store and bought little nips of Maker's Mark so we'd have something to offer her - people had left guitar picks on her grave, pennies, rocks. So, we drank a lot and then went to her grave, and we poured out a little of our nips. Then Sarah said, "Alice, I have a surprise for you," and pulled out a sheet of paper with R. Smith's PHONE NUMBER, and proceeded to leave a drunk message on his cellphone while I was collapsed, uselessly laughing, next to her. Shortly after that, we saw a flashlight coming up the path and we started freaking out, but soon we saw it was three hippies with a giant bottle of Jim Beam and they said, "Do you guys blaze?" and we said, "Sure!"

Earlier that day, I had gone walking around Northampton with Kate and Eric. We got candy and met a nice dog at a thrift store. I'd missed old friends. It's funny, though: I remember the kind of desperate feeling I had to talk with someone more familiar the first time I visited Bobbo after I moved to Knox, and I didn't really have that now. It didn't feel as urgent, and that's good. While I was in Northampton, Aaron called and asked if I was up for trivia, and I reminded him I was out of town, and I had this moment of being sad because I have an actual life in Syracuse now that I miss when I'm not there, and I'm just shocked it happened so quickly.

New Shit

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 18:04:06 GMT

Yesterday, Aaron, Natalie and I drove down to Ithaca to go to the Moosewood Restaurant and explore some waterfalls. I also bought a used copy of "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" (which I've owned a burned copy of for years, but never the CD itself), ironically, because a few months ago I was so sick of hearing Olivia and Geoff play all the songs from it whenever we got drunk that I swore I would never listen to it again. So this is sort an expression of my nostalgia for college, weirdly enough, just as it's starting to abate.

It will never really go away, though. On the drive home, Natalie was asleep in the back seat and Aaron was in front, navigating for me. I told him about Laura, Olivia, and I's ongoing conversation freshman year about what various famous authors would have been like in bed. Aaron said, "You wouldn't have known what Chekov was doing until it was half over," and I laughed so hard I almost had to pull over. I added, "Chaucer would have been a talker." Aaron began, "T.S. Eliot..." and then he started laughing too hard to finish.

It's always hard to figure out exactly when you can start to call people friends, as opposed to just people you sometimes hang out with. I think maybe it's when you can call someone and ask them to come over and have a beer and watch TV and that's not weird, when you don't have to have, you know An Event. I'm getting closer to this. Friday I had such a bad hangover I couldn't even get dressed until 7:30 (but I could write a paper - A+ student), but then I went to Tracey's so she, Aaron, Eric, and I could all go see a double feature of '80's slasher movies at The Palace. It's been rainy, but that's okay.

Background Noise

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 22:29:20 GMT

I just cried during an episode of "Gossip Girl" and wrote the first thing I've liked since the introduction to my senior portfolio. I feel like these two events were somehow connected.

Apparently my apartment is next door to a fledgling rock band.

SYRACUSE IS STUPID

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 16:08:16 GMT

I was reminded of how much this is true when I came back from New York City (which was great) to find the first parking ticket I have ever received plastered by rain to the front window of my car. Apparently, I was parked on the wrong side of my street. I was confused, because I'd been living there for days and had never seen a no parking sign. In fact, I'd seen a lot of other people parked there many times. Here's the deal, though: Unlike any normal town, which would have a no parking side and a parking side, the side of my street which you can park on SWITCHES every day at 6 pm. You park on one side from 6pm on odd days to 6pm on even days, and then the other on the days in between. And it gets better. Every six months, the side of the street you park on on even and odd days SWITCHES AGAIN, as if it weren't already complicated enough.

Hate.

In better news, Eric, the guy from the MA program, is awesome. We had beers. Also, I love New York City forever. I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, the Natural History Museum, and Coney Island. The night before, Amelia and I had gone out drinking from, like, six to three (in the morning, she marveled, "that's like a day of work!"), and then we took the train out to the amusement park and rode the Wonder Wheel. Even though we were both about to barf, she insisted we go on the swinging cars. I didn't barf. I guess if I had it would have been a better story. We just held onto the car. I shrieked. Amelia reassured herself, quoting the sign at the entrance, "No accidents in 85 years. No accidents in 85 years."

Maybe I can skip grad school and move to New York. Is it too late? Yes or no?

The Saga of the Purple Panties

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 20:17:15 GMT

I was working from 9-2 today, which is, like, nothing, but I still came home and straight up passed out. But this entry is not about how lame I am: This afternoon before I left this customer came up to me and said she was looking for the new book by Zane, who is in the African American Lit section. I don't know who they are, but from the looks of their covers, their stuff is pretty sex-ay. I asked her if she knew what it was called. She leaned closer and whispered, "It's called 'Purple Panties.'" Apparently a guy had asked if she needed help earlier and they couldn't find it because she was too embarrassed to tell him the title.

Anyway, Title Look-Up said we had three copies, but we looked everywhere and couldn't find them. So I had to get on the mic. "Does anyone know if we have any copies of a book by Zane called 'Purple Panties'?" No one answered. "Does anyone know if we have any copies of a book by Zane called 'Purple Panties'?" Someone called back, "What is the title?" "PURPLE PANTIES." "Oh. No." By now the customer and I were, like, falling over laughing. Then Jennifer came by. "Hey Jennifer, do you know if we have any copies of a book called 'Purple Panties'?" "Wait, what?" "PURPLE PANTIES." "Oh, I guess I heard you right the first time."

Ultimately, the Saga of the Purple Panties was resolved when the woman went back to African American Lit and found it stuck behind this other book.

Viva la Purple Panties!

The Petty Shit

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 22 May 2008 23:55:53 GMT

I feel like my life this past week has just been a long succession of clumsy things. Saturday night I was playing poker at Brian's place, wearing this new dress I bought at Target. This is important to the story. I was sitting in this (apparently unstable) directors' chair when my phone rang, and I leaned back in the chair to pick it up. And then the chair tipped over and I fell flat on my back and everyone saw my dainties. I'm just on a roll these days.

Then again, I guess everyone is. I went to Missouri with Olivia on Monday to renew her driver's license. There was one point in the trip where we were seventeen miles from our next interchange, and Olivia tried to add seventeen to the odometer so we would know when to start paying attention. So, the odometer was at 63, and Olivia said, "Okay, we have to change in...wait...this should be so easy." I said something like, "Oh my god, how are we getting diplomas?" and Olivia was like, "No, man! We're smart! We've just dispensed with, you know, the petty shit."

Also last Saturday: Sara, Olivia, David's friend Chris, and I saw the famous Knox Fox on the way to Big John's. Then, when we got there, Olivia, Selene, and I did a karaoke rendition of The Spice Girls' "Too Much" which was one year in the planning. In contrast to pretty much every other song I ever sing at Big John's, I maintain that this was actually really good. We got to the bridge, when Mel C sings, "I want a man / Not a boy who thinks he can / Boy who thinks he can," and we all actually hit the high note. Then we were late on the rest because we were all grinning at each other in wonder.

Honesty

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sat, 10 May 2008 21:46:09 GMT

I will always, always prefer tact.

Last night at Cinco de Mustache, I was sporting something reminiscent of Clark Gable. Mandy said, "If you were a dude, that's totally the mustache you would have," and I said, "thank you?" Heggs brought the breathalyzer she's using for her psych experiment. It's called the Alco-Hawk. In order to get accurate results, you're supposed to have no drunk anything for about ten minutes prior to being tested, which really calls into question, now that I think about it, how good these things must work in real life. Like, how can a police officer guarantee that someone hasn't been driving around, drinking. Anyway, case in point: I took a swig of my whiskey and coke and blew a .32.

This morning I woke up in time to go to the farmer's market and buy some apple bread. Then I brought it home and heated it up in the oven so that when I buttered it, all the butter melted. Also, I scrambled eggs and put raspberries and blueberries in my yogurt. Later, Laura and I went to Cornucopia and split one of the cheese breadsticks. I'm glad she offered to help me with it. Those things are at least a foot long, and though there's not a lot of mass to them, I always feel funny eating a whole one. Laura and I confess that we each imagine them moving through our bodies intact, coiled in our large intestine.

Countdown to Honors Defense: Six Days.

The Post-Flunk Day World

knees_and_toes@sbcglobal.net — Sun, 04 May 2008 22:24:03 GMT

Flunk Day was Thursday, after a week of speculation. Xavier invited a small group of seniors to a "leadership conference" at Fun City on Wednesday night, which seemed so obvious it sounded like a red herring, but really, what else could it have been? Caroline Allen was on the trip. She told Sibel that if she called her between 10:00 and 11:00 it wasn't Flunk Day, because if it was, they would take everyone's phones away. So 11:00 came and went without a call, and Sibel was sitting in the library telling everyone about it. Laura, Vanessa, Noah, Ashley, Liza, Andy, and I hung out at their place and called everyone on the trip whose numbers we knew, and got voicemail every time. Later, I did Flunk Day reconnaissance with Sara, Renee, and Mariko, and walking home through the apartment parking lot, Lexie told me that she'd received a suspicious deadline extension. Daisy said Xavier had extended the Caxton speaker's hotel stay.

The next morning, Laura called me at 5:30 and said that everyone over at Alan's house was so sure it was Flunk Day, despite us having not gotten the email, that they were drinking already. I was worried, despite all the evidence, but I got changed and Laura came over. I hesitated over pouring the first shots. Laura said, "So what if it's not Flunk Day?" So I raised the bottle of whiskey and said, "If we don't get the email, we don't speak of this again." But it was. We went over to Alan's, where Geoff promptly tackled me and flipped me over his couch. Then we went to the mud pit, and Laura and Michele knocked me down and rubbed my hair in it. I feel like my Flunk Day morning could be summed up with the phrase, "and the next thing I knew, I was on my back," but never in a sexy way. I also celebrated my first shower in the Quads. Michele, Brian, Laura, and I waltzed into Conger 2 and rinsed off with several other people - we shook hands and introduced ourselves - in several inches of standing, muddy water.

Flunk Day also included an Elvis impersonator, ice cream, Ninja Turtle puzzles, and, of course, Broadview. I think my favorite story about the clash of Flunk Day and the real world was that the place where I get my hair cut called to remind me of my appointment the next day, but I was too drunk to think to look at the caller ID, and answered, "SARA! WHERE ARE YOU?" because I had just called her and assumed she was calling back. The receptionist went on as if I'd said nothing at all out of the ordinary: "I'm Sheryl from Hairetcetera, and I'm calling to confirm your appointment tomorrow at four." Poor Sheryl.

More than one person has said to me these past few days that everything is different after Flunk Day. I still have to do homework, but in a way, I think it's true. Last night all the old Anti-Philosophy kids came back to visit, and seeing Peter and Brooks on the patio smoking cigarettes, I felt like I still had a few years of college left. Not to get philosophical, but I feel like in the post-flunk day world, there is a lot of possibility.