Archive for April, 2001

April 26th, 2001

» college

It feels more like college now that it feels less like college. The familiar buildings are unfamiliar, disconnected from me and my life and where I’m going. I am caught up in a book again and now I remember why I don’t allow myself to start stuff near tests or papers or anything remotely important — or why, rather, I shouldn’t. I went to the quiet lounge this morning (it’s gorgeous — two stories high, airy, with couches and chair and trees (yes, inside) and floor-to-ceiling windows, probably one of the prettiest places on campus), and I lay in there reading and freezing for two hours. It’s in one of the two well-air-conditioned buildings on campus. Two hours is more than enough time to become too engrossed, to stumble out into the sunlight and feel a million million miles away from everyone else, which is just the way I like it sometimes. After German tutoring I spent an hour reading on some crumbling stone steps outside some building or another, which was even more like a movie. So here I am just before chem lecture, sun-soaked and book-buried, and the stuff in my backpack is still cold from this morning. Cold enough that I thought to write about it.

April 22nd, 2001

» cowgirl

I’m supposed to be doing homework or sleeping, but yeah right. I went to St. Louis with Steph this weekend and on Friday night we saw Cowboy Mouth. It was incredible. Words cannot describe.

If you ever get the chance to see this band, go. They’re an experience. I’m still in this concert bliss land, despite a four hour drive this afternoon through some country which, while not as boring and mind-numbing as Iowa, is not exactly very exciting in any way.

Okay, the band. First the opening act. Southern Culture on the Skids, I think. (There was some confusion as to whether it was Culture or Comfort. Anyway.) It was, ahem, interesting. The members all had little personas that they portrayed — the drummer in a weird, big hair wig; the keyboardist/accordianist a huge, huge man in a red plaid shirt, denim overalls, and a baseball hat; the lead guitarist/singer this guy in hot pink magenta-y pants; the girl in a 60′s pink space dress, sparkly tights, white go-go boots, and a huge pink beehive-type wig. They screamed some interesting songs: the ones I could make out were about a bamboo house and banana pudding. On their second to last song they asked some women to come up from the audience to eat fried chicken on stage. So then these audience women danced around on stage, eating fried chicken and throwing it at the audience. Who threw it back. There was a quite pregnant Asian woman up there too, which lent an extremely surreal air to something that was already making me questioning my sanity. Later we saw someone wearing the fried chicken box on their head. They stayed on for a painful, loud hour and a half. Don’t get me wrong — they were okay, and it was cute up to a point. That point was about 45 minutes. I kept waiting and waiting for them to be done.

At any rate, Cowboy Mouth completely made up for it. In every way. Cowboy Mouth is GOD. Fred LeBlanc, the drummer, had on a black t-shirt with “FIERCE” written in white across the front. The show was severely good. They had everyone on their feet screaming. I discovered yesterday morning that my hands are actually bruised from clapping, a novelty to me. It was definitely worth it, though. Everyone threw red spoons at the band during Jill, a sight I will never forget: this beautiful shower of red plastic spoons. Another thing I won’t forget is that Fred walked right in front of us, on the table we were sitting at. I had to move my camera so he wouldn’t step on it, and I could’ve grabbed his ass without even leaning over. I wish I’d thought of it at the time, although it is a little presumptuous. I’m sure he gets it all the time, though. (Actually I know he does, because I saw someone else do it when he was further away.) They sang all sorts of kick-ass songs, including a cover of Strawberry Fields (which made me extremely mad I didn’t bring a tape recorder of some sort).

I can’t think of anything else specific to mention without getting into a whole bunch of stuff. Which I’d love to do, except that (again) I’m supposed to be working or sleeping. So I’m going now. And I am going to see Cowboy Mouth again sometime, dammit. With Kim, too! Mmm… Cowboy Mouth…

April 19th, 2001

» the magic bunny sees his shadow

I really didn’t mean to have ten-day gaps. I also don’t like to have incoherent and rambling little entries, but that can’t be helped at all. Easter came and went, and as I’m a good little heathen I enjoyed the candy very much. What I didn’t enjoy as much was not being home.

Oh, it was okay. It was very quiet here, and Kyle and I had a lot of fun (let me just say that Blair Witch II is the worst movie I’ve ever, ever seen), but that homesick feeling has crept back in the back door and started tickling the insides of my wrists. 19 days. Of hell, basically. Papers and tests, and no classes I’m at all sure about. Except statistics, and with that I’m only sure that it will be a miracle if I get a C. I’ve never gotten a C before, so understand that this is a little distressing, given this is a 100-level course. And please don’t say “Oh, it’s math,” because I can do math. I’m decent at math.

Anyway, Easter. My parents mailed me a package, and I opened it expecting maybe some ziplock baggies of candy, a stuffed animal, and a card. What I find instead (among two shirts, pens, a stuffed lamb, and some wonderful-smelling body mousse fluffy lotion stuff) is my Easter basket. Now, parents, if you have a girl in her first year of college, one sure way to get her choked up (well, if she’s at all missing home) is to send her something associated with an ingrained family ritual. Like the Easter basket. I wasn’t expecting it, to say the least, but it was really nice. I was talking to my dad on IM later, which is a sort of weird (because new) experience in itself, I mentioned that I’d been surprised that they sent the whole basket, and that’s where the quote comes from: “What’s Easter without the basket???” And that sums it up pretty damn nicely.

There was lots of fun over the weekend, between movies and the Salvation Army and the certain privacy of a webcam (heh heh heh…Kyle and Kim will know what I’m talking about — don’t ask, because I definitely can’t tell you). But I have to work in the morning, and I’m tired and not feeling well at all. So to bed I go.

The bunny saw his shadow, which means spring is in 19 days. Mostly because spring = freedom, and freedom = the end of school, which has nothing to do with the Easter bunny or his shadow. Oh well — I’m just looking forward to being out of here for a bit. I have so many plans for this summer, too… And next year, because Katie and I are going to have the best room. Private bathroom, directly across from the kitchen. We’re going to be Livin’ Large.

7:50 p.m. – One more quick thing. I gave blood today, so I’m all tired and blah. But tomorrow I’m going to St. Louis with Stephanie and we’re going to see the Cowboy Mouth concert, which is FUCKING AWESOME. Ahem. I’m excited. And now I’m going for real.

April 9th, 2001

» The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.

Saturday morning (okay, afternoon) I was woken by a charming young man pounding on my door. I let him round me up (after taking a brief shower and getting dressed) and we got Steph over here and the three of us went down to “Dawg Days” (even though it was only one day), an activity kindly put on by the Student Activities Board. There were a few carnival rides and you could buy food and other minor amusements. We all tie-dyed t-shirts, which was damned fun because it’s been years and years since I’ve done that. Most of the rest of the day was spent sewing. Seriously. We’re all making various articles of clothing (dresses, skirts, shirts) because…well, we can. I brought my sewing machine down after spring break.

The vast excitement of pinning and sewing and changing the bobbin and thread and needle on the machine over and over (we needed different kinds of needles and colors of thread) was punctuated briefly by the bathroom window getting broken. Actually, it got broken before we started, but we didn’t know that. There were some boys outside playing around, and we heard this thunk. I assumed it was either something very minor which had fallen in the shower (again) or something had hit the brick wall of the dorm. I saw a boy come over and retrieve a baseball, so the latter seemed highly likely. Only later one of our suitemates came down and asked if we knew how the window had gotten broken. Then the officer came to make a report, and when he went out to talk to the boys they (at first) denied having done it, then claimed it had been with a tennis ball. Now let me tell you, they must’ve thrown this so-called tennis ball really hard to have broken that window. Or at least to have made a hole as big as it did. (The window was open; it’s one of those slidey kinds, so it hit the top pane and bounced off the bottom, since they were right next to each other. Luckily most of the glass did not come inside.) Plus I saw him come over and get a big white ball. Oh well.

Saturday night Kyle (the aforementioned charming fellow who, coincidentally, is mine and Steph’s stalkee) and Steph and I went to the Traschcan Punch Party at the Shack. Or the Love Shack for long; it’s kind of the theater people hang-out, and while I’m not a theater person they are. We had a lot of fun. Hee hee hee…

Saturday night I had the strangest dream, after I finally managed to get to sleep. I dreamt that I got a letter from my mom, and right before the end she put something like “Oh, and the baby is due in 7 1/2 months.” I was very surprised, to say the least, so I called and she was very casual about it: (er…I’m making this up, because I have no clue what she really said, but it’s the gist) “Oh, I didn’t tell you? Yeah, I’m having a boy.” It was rather distressing, in that benign way.

Anyway, that was most of my weekend. Sunday was much less crazy, and today was very nice for a Monday. In Literary Society we read Hamlet. We skipped the “boring” parts — I know none of them are boring, but we had to cut some stuff out to finish on time — and by the time we got to the end there were only four of us left. So we doubled up on parts very haphazardly, and performed the ending scene. We all got to die once, which was very nice. Yes, we are crazy. We like it that way.

So, that’s my update. I have a much better entry half-written that’s actually about something other than the mundanities (it’s a word now, so shaddup) I’ve been up to. All in good time…

April 2nd, 2001

» today East Haddam, CT; tomorrow the world

Today I’m going to East Haddam, CT. I’m going to walk right out the dorm door, get in my car, and drive into morning, and Connecticut.

Okay, not really. Today I have to go to class and work and be a virtuous student. I’d like to be able to just get in my car and go, though. It’s something I always joke about with my friend Kim: we’re going to run away together. She’s going to pawn her engagement ring and we’re going to hit the road. We’re not serious, of course. I just closed my eyes and typed numbers into the zip code box on Map Quest. I’d still like to go there, even if the name is as strange and foreign as East Haddam. I guess I’m at that point where anything beats Kirksville.

Do you ever wonder what would happen if you did something like that? Just up and left? Your school, your job, your life? I used to think I’d do it one day, and I was serious. Not quite just up and leave, but go live somewhere else for a while. India or Africa. I guess I’d still like to, but it’s not such a pressing need any longer. I’m not looking for jobs there or booking flights.

In eleventh grade I had an AP American history class, and I once wrote an essay for fun while sitting staring out the window. It was entitled “In which I escape from second-block AP US history, take a walk in the rain, uncover a conspiracy, and get home before dark” or some such nonsense like that. It still makes me smile to think of the idea, though. I pull off the window screen and climb right out. There was a big joke at my school about the window cranks. We didn’t have any, and there were conflicting reports as to why. The school’s story was that it would screw up climate control, but let me tell you it’s no mean feat to control the climate in a school that’s four stories high and a quarter mile long, and not letting us open the windows when it’s too hot or too cold doesn’t help. Anyway, the other story was that they spent several thousand dollars on window cranks only to discover the kind they bought stripped the bolts on the windows, which, if you have any experience with this sort of thing you know, is very bad. It means at some point you’re going to have a window that’s stuck open. Anyway, the premise behind the story was that they hadn’t spent that money on window cranks at all (the windows in the story were the nifty sliding kind): instead they had used it on an elaborate plot set up in the woods behind the school.

Silly, yes, but it sure passed the time in history, which really was the point. I really should go to bed now, considering I have to be up for German in about six hours. Joy, joy.

Who knows. Maybe I’ll change my mind about Connecticut.