Archive for March, 2001

March 30th, 2001

» ophidiophilia*

Over two months ago something in the science hall caught my interest, and I wasted most of chemistry lecture writing about it.

Consider the snake: the long illusion of a smile where his mouth is cut back to unhinge and swallow prey whole. The rope of muscle that is his body, that moves inexplicably. I have no problem understanding how a horse’s leg lifts or a dog’s tail wags, but it is this whole seamless motion that is beyond me. There is only one working part, no joints or knuckles. Does a snake have a long, slim spine or only a gaping jaw? There are the lungs to think of too — the sighing of a snake, which moves only part of the body, in and out. The tongue moves like a hummingbird, almost too quickly to see. It slips out, forked, and combs the air, a plucked thing, vibrating. It does not look like a tongue at all but something alien, dull black, more at home with leeches in the soft mud of a riverbed. When they have eaten they move as though pregnant, their little tube bodies swollen painfully, twisting around a meal that knots down the long stomach. And what of a snake’s heart?

Yes, there are snakes in the science hall. Don’t worry; I’m not a criminal, or they would already be gone.

I think my psychology class is too big. Or at least that’s my excuse du jour as to why I’m not doing better in it. I love psychology. I love my psychology teacher. In the three months I’ve been to that class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (give or take), I have not once felt my brain click on. I have never once been engaged. I come, I sit, I write. Class ends and I leave. I remember only the useless stories: about the noblewoman who bathed in blood, about the man with soap dish poisoning, that scotch in milk is the drink of whores (seriously). I don’t know what’s wrong. I feel like nothing is important enough to remember, even when I know it is.

I write this while waiting for class to begin, because we always start at least five minutes late. Today it’s seven. Today is the first day the professor says anything to me. He likes to pick on people (in that nice way), but he knows who to do it to. He said I was taking notes very intently. It’s a song and dance I’ve heard before, although he can’t know that, and he didn’t mean it to be a song and dance. Mrs. Nelson wrote on my kindergarten report card that I was a very serious little girl.

I guess some things never change.

* Ophidiophilia is the love of snakes. There seems to be some confusion among people about what Freud meant by “sexual”, and it has led to some very weird definitions of the -philias. A dendrophiliac is someone who really loves trees. Not someone who has sex with them.

March 27th, 2001

» one brain over easy

Did you know that astronaut food will never get warm in the microwave, no matter how long you leave it in there? You could set it to five hundred years and the astronaut food would still be the same as always, or at least that’s what I heard. It makes me want to go buy astronaut food to test this out.

I’m tired, in more ways than one. Last week was the week from hell. In just two days I managed to spend ten and a half hours in the library working on a philosophy paper. There isn’t enough time in the nights. (I’m happy with days, though. They’re fine the way they are.) I wish I had more to say.

I don’t remember if I mentioned the SWE or not. I think I complained about it, but I’d like to reverse myself now. I was wrong. I’m actually really happy about how it turned out, and the risk I took, and the score I got. We joked about hanging a special sign about me getting a 1 (the lowest score) on my door, but now I don’t have to. I can give my real certificate to my mom. I bet she’ll hang it on the fridge, because she still does that. Do you ever wonder how that custom started? Huh. Oh well.

This past weekend was, despite the lack of sleep and Lisa’s bitchy overnight prospective students, very fun. I finally got to use the sewing machine, which is a brilliant little darling. Steph said it needs a name, and I agree. I’m taking suggestions.

I just got done with a chemistry test, so my brain is mush. I have a psychology test tomorrow, and a ton of Hume to read. And statistics to do. I can’t remember what sigma means. I’ve been promising myself I’d update the site for ages now, though, and so I’m doing it, even if the update is crappy. I’m going to add something to the links section too. And try to think of something more intelligent to say.

March 12th, 2001

» sie liebt dich, yeah yeah yeah

The strange thing of the day is the Beatles in German. If you speak even a little German, you’ll know how wrong it is to say “sie liebt dich, yeah yeah yeah.” It just doesn’t work. Ah well — it was amusing, anyway.

The good news! The Man Corral Mix is officially finished, as of sometime in the wee of this morning. (Wee. Heeheehee.) It amuses me to no end. Which means, yes, you are about to get a list of what’s on it.

monty python – the penis song
queer as folk – it’s raining men (storming version)
joan jett – wild thing
flashdance – manhunt
blondie – one way or another
sarah mclachlan – possession
liz phair – flower
hall & oates – man eater
fiona apple – criminal
madonna – like a prayer (original)
denise williams – let’s hear it for the boy
stone temple pilots – pour some sugar on me
miami sound machine – bad boy
sophie b. hawkins – damn i wish i was your lover
marilyn monroe – i wanna be loved by you
letters to cleo – i want you to want me
bonnie tyler – i need a hero
proclaimers – i would walk 500 miles

So there you have it. Version 2.0 is going to have “Closer” on it, because we totally forgot about it. (NOT the Super Mario remix, because that’s just wrong.) Also, I think it’s going to have “Light My Fire” by the Doors on there too, because it didn’t fit on this one. If you have any more ideas, please throw them my way! (Oh! And the Man Corral, by the way, is this crazy thing Kim and I have. It’s…a long story. And a place for corralling men. Jocey even kindly donated her roommate Milo.)

I think I’m sick (no, I know I’m sick). And I never get sick. The timing of this sucks, too. Spring Break just ended, and now I have a million things to do, including the seven page pysch paper and the 100 pages of philosophy reading I didn’t finish over break. And I think we’re going to be assigned another 9-12 page philosophy paper today. Gr. I hate this idea of “writing intensive”. Screw you, Truman.

The drive from my house to Truman takes about seven or eight hours, but luckily I have Carrie to keep my company through Iowa, which is one of the worst states ever, especially to drive through. “Fields of Opportunity” my ass. Anyway, they have the “Top of Iowa Welcome Center” but not the “Bottom of Iowa Welcome Center”, something I never really understood. Well, I don’t understand the concept of the Top of Iowa either, unless it’s the highest point in Iowa, which I know it’s not. Why not just be sane and say northern Iowa? Also. There’s this town in Iowa called Pella. It’s near the “bottom” of Iowa (oh god, I just got a horrible mental image of Iowa as an androgynous person wiggling its butt) so by the time we pass it in our drive back to Kirksville we’re pretty crazy with all the Iowa we’ve been through. There’s this big sign that says “Welkom Pella” and it was hilarious for reasons I don’t have time to get into. Anyway, that was last drive. So yesterday we pulled over on the side of the freeway to take a picture of it (which I’ll put up as soon as I get the film developed). We also decided to drive through “historic downtown Pella,” which was actually kind of cute with its little windmills and Dutch-style houses and shops. Although one of them was vaguely reminiscent of empirial China.

I got a new purse over break. It’s beautiful, and it smells like leather, which is one of my favorite smells in the world. Mmm…leather… I also got six new books, because I am very, very naughty and I have no willpower. How can you resist a title like A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, though? I also got a Dover thrift edition of the plays of some guy I’ve never heard of for ten cents, because it was on hella clearance. And I brought my sewing machine down to school, which is either going to be dangerous, fun, or both. (Don’t they usually go together anyway?)

This…is extremely random, and for that I apologize. And also blame the sickness, because I can, and because it deserves to be blamed for something in addition to making me feel like crap.