Living in Exile
(Sleater-Kinney)
Sunday, March 30, 2003
10:16 p.m.
I'll walk 3,000 lonely miles/ I'll start a new life on my own
Kristin and I went to see a pair of films at the Wisconsin Film Festival. Of course, despite my good intentions, I did not wake up at an appropriate time and was forced to do the bandanna thing. Both films were by a lesbian film maker, Su Friedrich. The first was laughably awful and I felt bad. It was a short, about a station wagon. The second had so much potential. However, the fictional part interspersed with the documentary was a bit convoluted. What? Anyway, we left before the interactive discussion with the director. The plethora of 40-something lesbians made me wrought with terror. Is bad older queer fashion inevitable? Will I too begin wearing orange sweatshirts with koalas in 20 years?
Don't know what I'm waiting for/
but when it comes,
I actually wrote those two idiot essays last night. Today, I had seg fee training. Last night, due to far too much caffeine, I was completely unable to fall asleep until seven am. As a result, I was exhausted and decided to skip church and take a nap, waking up with time to eat before seg free training at eight. I woke up a little before ten. Now, I'm faced with the prospect of another early bedtime because I have to be somewhere at 9:30am tomorrow. Tomorrow. I am going to kick ass. I am not going to miss a single appointment. I have to call the Women's Transit Authority. I have actually been using that scary planner of mine. I also have a million tiny Wunk Sheek flyers covered in cryptic messages like "S92door->basement" or "desolation 352 (3?)" which I somehow assumed would make sense when I was awake.
You know I'll be ready/
a new woman
Sitting with Jason the other night and commenting on the people going in and out, I realized my standards are extremely high and I don't have a definable "type." Even the girl with the Sleater-Kinney bracelet seemed uninteresting. If I'm not being attracted to women, does that mean I'm going to have to take another trip to the boys' side? No. I have been re-thinking my decision to grow my hair long. I had two main reasons. One will always exist, but there is nothing I can do about that one. The other? I don't know if I really care. I miss my short hair. I decided to give it 3 weeks. If I still feel strongly about having short hair again, I'll cut it. I need to stop this viscious cycle of cute hair followed by months of horribly bad growing-out hair.
I know my head is my worst enemy/ Swallowed too much of it and started to believe
How do I feel about living really, really far away from school this summer? I have shit to do. And my mom hasn't called me for a few days, despite me leaving her messages. I need to call her. In other news- my dad is visiting me again.
Sleep the Clock Around
(Belle and Sebastian)
Saturday, March 29, 2003
06:19 p.m.
Take a walk in the park take a valium pill/ read the letter you got from the memory girl
It's early Saturday evening and I am swearing to myself that I will be productive tonight and not do anything fun. Last night I had coffee and dinner with Katie, went out, got kind of tipsy, came home, and did absolutely nothing but watch TV. Tori gave a lovely concert. She did not play Spark, but she did play Black Dove, which I adore. I was exhausted by the end of the concert and didn't think I could actually swing the TPS dance, but I went because I signed up to collect $$ from people coming in. While there, I figured out my crush. I like her because she looks more like Carrie Brownstein than anyone who isn't actually Carrie Brownstein can. Other than that, I am not actually interested in her. Oh well. I saw a handful of people from my past, with longer hair and worse style. It was kind of sad. TPS dances remind me of my high school baby dyke days, when I used to actually make myself look nice for them. Now, I just go in whatever I'm wearing to class.
but it takes more than this to make sense of the day/
yeah it takes more than milk to get rid of the taste
Yesterday was long. I slept through First Nations' Women's group, despite being a firm believer in regular attendance. I went to the doctor and ended up staying there for hours. I was supposed to meet Katie after her class, but couldn't until 4. Dr. M. lectured me, checked my feet and underarms, and gave me a new meter. The new meter is compact and lovely. I am supposed to test when I wake up and 2 hours before my evening meal. I didn't mention to him that on weekends, those two things occur at the same time. I had to take a million urine tests so I sat around the lobby, drinking glass after glass of water and reading Parenting magazine. I put my hand on my belly and pretended I was there for pregnancy. I am a dork. The worst part of the entire visit was the giant jug I had to take home to collect all my urine for a 24 hour period. Ew.
and you trusted to this and you trusted to that/
when you saw it all come you were waving the flag
Tomorrow and Monday will be horribly busy. I agreed to do work for the seg fee campaign, so I'll be down at WisPIRG tomorrow evening. Kevin also suggested I apply to be a diversity liaison to ASM, which sounds kind of interesting. I really want to be more involved next year, as opposed to simply being a member of everything. I'd rather pick one or two things and work, really, really hard. I need to be proactive. I have very little respect for people who claim to be politically minded but all they do is argue senselessly with their friends about it instead of doing anything actively.
of the united states of calamity hey/
after all that you done boy and now your gonna pay
Wednesday is summer session registration. I went to the Women's Studies department to clarify that I can register for a certain course without having the prereqs. They said it was fine, but I have this horrid premonition that when I go to register, the enrollment system won't let me and I'll have to take some godforsaken class like... cultural geography. Other timetable rants: the cultural anthro class I need is only offered at 8am this fall. What! I don't know if I should take it, because I highly doubt I could actually make it to class on a regular basis. However, I am not sure if the class will be offered again at a later time. 8am! Who gets up that early? I only barely manage my 11 o'clocks. I think this is a sign I need to go to sleep before 4am. Starting tonight. I promise I will go to bed by midnight. Really.
Evolve
(Ani DiFranco)
Friday, March 28, 2003
04:00 a.m.
i walk in stride with people/ much taller than me
Adrienne and I had this goal tonight of getting drunk beyond belief tonight. Neither of us did. I got mildly tipsy and Adrienne is mildly drunk. Every night when she comes home (she usually comes home after me) around 3 or 4, she throws open the door and says "Colette! I knew you'd still be up!" Then we give each other the run-down on the night and prevent ourselves from making drunken phone calls. Tonight was a decent night, QSA night. I kept thinking the evening's festivities were over, but every time I left one person, I ran into another on the street. Eileen went to Lucy's over break and said the drag show was laughably awful. Now I don't feel so bad about not going to the cities at all during break.
and partly it's the boots but/ mostly it's my chi
I am extremely excited about the prospect of April. I have never particularly liked March. April is totally a new beginning month, all Tracy Chapman-esque. This year, I love spring. It could be the absence of the loco winds in Wisconsin. No one goes crazy here, they just get really horny. New beginnings. I am learning to pray the rosary. I have the prettiest powder blue one from Sara. My grandmother would be thrilled. I am completely overwhelmed by religion right now. I'm not totally sure what I should believe, so I am just floating along doing what feels right and avoiding what feels wrong.
and i'm becoming transfixed/ with nature and my part in it
Every day now I wake up and hope the war was all just a dream. It's not. This morning, as a protest marched by under my window, I awoke to the sound of "Books not Bombs!" which I nearly always mistake for "Boobs not Bombs!" I wholeheartedly agree with both statements. I haven't been watching the coverage anymore; it stresses me too much. It all makes me feel so insignificant and powerless. Studying Mesopotamia in class, I am joltingly reminded that the soldiers are probably crawling over Ebla and Uruk. In Biblical Lit, as we discuss the exile into Babylonia, I am disturbed by the juxtaposition of the events of the Ancient Near East and those of today.
which i believe just signifies/ i'm finally waking up
I need to be asleep. Tomorrow kicks off a busy, busy, busy few weeks. Sunday will be lovely, Kristin and I are going to see Hide and Seek. We haven't seen much of one another lately, so I am looking forward to it. Thank God we got our tickets early, the show has been sold out for weeks. Anyway, bedtime.
Blue Room
(The Nields)
Wednesday, March 26, 2003
11:49 p.m.
There's a moment of decision/ and it's coming up much much later
Today I was complaining about a meeting and Adrienne turned and asked me, "If you hate the meeting so much, why go?" I didn't go. It was extremely liberating. Then, I let myself be late to my second meeting. I found the second meeting so engaging that I didn't bother going to the third meeting, even though they were in the same building. However, my friend who was running the third meeting gave me a ride home anyway.
I'm all alone in this blue room/ Hear the engines rumbling through
I went to the Primate Library today. I have a hard time making myself go there, but once I'm on my way, I like it. The marmosets were absolute darlings today. I stopped and visited them and they all sat and looked at me. I like to think they know who I am and remember me. The babies are adolescents now and their white tufts are showing in the sweetest way. They made me laugh and think of Jessica. I asked about her today; she's happy at Princeton. Aaron is going to arrange some kind of meeting for me with Sissel; Sissel can really further my academic career. I found out shocking things about Dr. Kenoyer from him. Apparently, the American Indian Studies department filed something against him because he had students in his innovation class (the class I'm taking this summer) sing mocking Native chants while they tanned deer hides. He also made some racist comments. I was horrified and embarassed for him. Amanda took a summer anthro class and told me the professor unbuttoned his shirt. His chest hair was so pelty and distracting that it affected her ability to concentrate in lecture. She wouldn't tell me which professor it was. I can't imagine Kenoyer having chest hair, so I think I'm safe.
I close the shutters and I change the channel/
I sit and sing the TV news
I am going to see Tori on Friday. I saw her 4 months ago, but I am thrilled to be getting to see her again. The last time I saw her, I was so exhausted that I slept through the opening act. This time, I am counting on being more awake. I desperately want her to play Spark. Sleater-Kinney played Sympathy last month and it was amazing. As they did that, I don't expect Tori to play Spark, but I still would very much like her to.
every note I sing is blue/ and every note is more than I can handle
Sometimes my non-political friends are too much for me to handle. I spoke to C. tonight about being radical on campus and felt like I was talking to someone who really understood me. I have not been overtly activist this semester and I adore it. It's a wonderful transition, because I am starting to look into opportunities where I can make a real difference. Being a run-of-the mill Madisonian activist isn't very impressive. I want to be involved in actual politics, in actual government. I am learning about how I can do that. Wow. I love to be around other people with a vision. I lost that vision while I was away from school and now, now, it's like I'm finding myself again.
Tiger Rising
(Mary Timony)
Tuesday, March 25, 2003
10:50 p.m.
On the first day of independence/ I walked on out on the street
It's Tuesday night. That's right. So after Buffy, a bunch of us went to Noodles. Now it's nearly 11 and I have absolutely no idea where the time went. Long day. Dr. Price commented in class about my "defecating faun" answer. Embarassing, but at least it was the correct answer. I turned in the proposal for my project. Everyone in class seemed relatively terrified, turning theirs in. Prehistoric Europe lecture was fascinating, about the Minoan civilizations. I spent the next two lectures writing to my high school best friend and pondering the meaning of my last relationship. Very productive. Really.
and there was a desert as far as I could see
I love the spring. I am really annoyed that it's going to be cold again. I wore that green skirt today and my new shoes. Being outside in the warm always makes me want to laugh. I sat outside Social Sciences today with the cutest queer couple ever and ate apple slices they offered me. They looked so comfortable together, the way you only can be when you've been together so long you don't even have to acknowledge the other person to be fully aware of their presence. I've been really cynical about relationships lately, but seeing them together? I want that, someday.
On the second day of understanding/ I turned into a tree
I love Spring. Spring makes me think of love and sex and big blue flowers and tiny red raspberries. Falling in love in the spring seems so romantic. Pretty much without fail, I fall in love in November, when it's grey and depressing. I want a relationship where the girl brings me tiger lilies for my hair and takes me out for curry. Italian food is for the winter; Indian food is for the spring. I am so happy for everyone who is in love right now.
and I called out/ but no one could hear me
My IQ test came back. I had to know; I called my mom to find out my father's IQ score. I don't care about the score itself, I just wanted to know if I were as quantifiably intelligent as my father. I beat him.
Why God, Why?
(Miss Saigon)
Monday, March 24, 2003
12:55 a.m.
Why does Saigon never sleep at night?/ Why does this girl smell of orange trees?
Okay, so the Academy Awards. Julianne Moore was robbed! She should have won in both categories, but no, Catherine Zeta-Jones got supporting. In no way was her Velma Kelly comparable to Laura in The Hours. And Nicole Kidman, while she was a compelling V. Woolf, was not even close to Julianne's performance and definitely nothing like Salma Hayek. Chicago's awards were definitely overkill. I was thrilled for Adrien Brody, however. I nearly cried when he won! I was thoroughly disgusted with the amount of applause Roman Polanski received. Granted, The Pianist was excellent, but the man himself is nothing to be admired. Overall, it was the Oscars, nothing new or exciting. I was proud that I had seen so many of the films so I had a handle on whether or not the awards were deserved.
How can I feel good when nothing's right?/ Why is she cool when there is no breeze?
After church and TV, Sara and I busted out one of my mangoes. We wanted to see if they were as sensual as they are claimed to be. They are.
You don't give answers, do you friend?/ Just questions that don't ever end
Spring break ending is one of the more unjust things in life. So is running into women you really, really like outside of Wando's, knowing you have to go home and do homework and not accept offers of drinks. So, instead of being out in my pink shoes, I'm in, in my blue pajama pants. Fuck you world!
You Said Something
(PJ Harvey)
Saturday, March 22, 2003
04:54 a.m.
We lean against railings/ Describing the colours/ And the smells of our homelands/ Acting like lovers
It's early in the morning. I actually had the levity to turn off the war coverage and Candy is expressing her shock at my devirginization of a certain republican, back when I was 16. Biggie is regaling me with stories of her boss. I am also drinking the most heavenly juice ever made. If only it weren't so expensive- and if it were readily available downtown.
How did we get here? To this point of living? I held my breath/ And you said something
Today has been kind of dull. I did however, get to see Frida with Sue. It was a gorgeous movie, full of color and period clothing. (Period as in vintage, not as in menstruation.) I loved it, but it was very difficult to watch so I probably won't see it again. Afterward, Sue and I made another pilgrimage to Victoria's Secret where I exchanged seamed stockings for unseamed stockings and got even more underwear. I had to replace my pale pink unders. They are probably under the rubble in Sara's room; I haven't recently disrobed anywhere else.
And I'm doing nothing wrong/ Riding in your car/ The radio playing/ We sing up to the eighth floor
I got to speak to Bern tonight, which I hadn't done for 4 months. It was heavenly. I confessed all my sins to her and felt a huge weight off of my chest. I miss my waffle dates with her, when I'd wake up horribly early and we'd discuss sex, The Nields, and non-fiction books. I also talked to Sara, which culminated in her randomly spitting out words in yiddish, which sent me into paroxysms of laughter. Something about Sara saying "bar mitzvah" is extremely amusing. "Mayonnaise" however, is not so funny.
A rooftop, Manhattan/ At one in the morning/ And you said something/ That I've never forgotten
I have to be at the library in 5 hours and 40 minutes. I'm not sure how this is going to happen. If I can pull it off, it will be amazing. I also have to pick up a package from the front desk, which is only open 2 hours a day during break. Another goal for tomorrow: watch at least 5 minutes of some basketball game. Problem- I can't remember what time it's on. Or what channel it is. Damn.
Work Your Way Out
(Ani DiFranco)
Wednesday, March 19, 2003
05:11 p.m.
i wonder what you look like under your t-shirt/ i wonder what you sound like when you're not wearing words
Wednesday and my life has been so packed with social events since Monday that I have never been more thrilled to be home. I came home this morning, showered the smoke out of my hair, put on my most ratty, soft pajamas, and took a nap. It was heavenly. My own bed. My soft, soft bed. Not that Sara's bed isn't soft, but... well, you all know about my love affair with my duvet. Then I had to get up and go to see Mercile. I sat in that little chair in her office while she talked in her sloooooow voice about what I should be doing differently with my life. Ugh. Now I'm home, back in the pajamas, thrilled to death that I don't have to have another private meeting with her until next fall.
i wonder what we have/ when we're not pretending/ it's never-ending, haven't you heard?
On Monday, after an afternoon of coffee, shopping, and trying on Brandon's air force uniform, Sara and I got dinner, the entire 3rd season of Sex and the City, and made cosmopolitans. The next morning, we slept until two. Heavenly. Last night, my bag clanking with bottles of vodka and chartreuse, we went to Brandon's and then to Club 5 with Bill and Brandon. I only saw one woman from my past and she was there with Beth Potter, the girl who emotionally never left middle school. She wasn't even wearing purple. It was extremely shocking! Fun to see who from your past turns up at gay clubs. After dancing, Sara and I had more cosmopolitans, pizza, and Sex and the City. I slept in these really slippery pants of hers and kept dreaming I was trying to swim through huge piles of silk.
i don't need to tell you what this is about/ you just start on the inside and work your way out
It's 5:27 now. The count down on MSNBC is ticking away. Mercile says Bush is counting on the protests ending once the war begins. It's grey and rainy today; I pray for peace. I pray for guidance and wisdom for our leaders. I have been turning the TV on and off- I can't decide if I want to hear about this. There will be war in the cradle of civilization. What would the Mesopotamians think of us? Would even the Assyrians be outraged?
there are some things that you can't know/ unless you've been there/ but oh how far we could go/ if we started to share
Yesterday at the Primate Library I was informed that you can not check out the things I needed precisely five minutes before the library closed. However, the darling librarian let me stay long after the library was closed and even let me copy for free. If only the primate library wasn't so far away...
Honey
(Tori Amos)
Sunday, March 16, 2003
07:29 p.m.
Turn back one last time. Love to watch those cowboys ride./ But cowboys know cowgirls ride on the Indian side.
Sunday evening and I've done nothing academically for days; it's heavenly! The weather is gorgeous, just as nice as it is in New Mexico. Adrienne and I donned tank tops and walked to Walgreen's for toothbrushes and nylons before I ran off to church. Is it wrong for me to love Lent solely for the purple altar cloths? Okay, not solely. Pretty much everyone was home for break so the church was really empty. I think the regular choir went home, because the soloists had really screechy voices. After church, I went to the peace vigil for a little while and carried my candle around. However, for the first time in my life, I did not run into anyone I knew, so I came home. I didn't feel like walking home from the capitol alone in the dark.
And you know what you're doing, so don't even./ You're just too used to my honey, now.
Yesterday was okay. I went up to Wausau to protest Fred Phelps. We ate on the way back down to Madison and then went to Club 5. I went to bed rather late and I had to drag myself out of it painfully to have lunch with Sue, my mentor. We did a lot of shopping and I connived her into dinner later this week so that I can see Frida, in which none of my friends have any interest.
Don't bother coming down. I made a friend of the western sky./ Oh... I don't bother coming down. You always liked your babies tight.
I love this weather. Sara may not have complained about the cold at all, but she's from here and that makes her tough. I hate it. I got soft, back in the desert. But today, I went out without a coat and it was heavenly. I loved walking home, candle in hand, with the warm air all around me. Unfortunately, I left the candle in the windowsill and started a small fire in our room. Oops.
Oh My My
(Ani DiFranco)
Friday, March 14, 2003
03:15 a.m.
this is what i think about when i think about you
The hour when the valium kicks in is so sweet. My whole body relaxes and all I want to do is burrow under the glorious flannel of my duvet and sleep. The feeling is exacerbated by wearing clean soft white socks. Unfortunately, tonight the valium kicked in when I was several blocks from my bed. Lordisa, why isn't it spring yet? That's all I have to say.
if we let our love off of its leash/ do you fear like i fear how fierce it could be?
Shopping is fun. However, because Sara was not there, I ended up with yet another powder blue shirt. I justified it by the fact that the weight I've gained has rendered one of my shirts kind of unwearable. I'm not increasing the number of powder blue shirts- I'm just making the number stabilize. Really.
the depth of my feeling way down in my dark life/ a shaft of your light shines through
Over break, cosmopolitans will be had. That makes remember Inky, and all the Cosmos there were to read in the bathroom. Someday, I am going to live with a straight girl and shamelessly read all of her straight girl mags.
Cloud Blood
(Ani DiFranco)
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
12:23 p.m.
every other song someones trying to write/ angels into the world
Whoa, the default font on Anthro Computer A is rad. I'm going to have to figure out what it is, download it, and put it all over my computer. My computer and I are having issues. It keeps doing this thing where it randomly restarts, right in the middle of me doing something, and then won't load windows all the way. It will get to the point where my desktop is loading and then it will restart again. Finally, after copious amounts of restarting, it will say that I have a registry error and I need to figure out what's going on. DoIT says that it can't work with registry errors. Thanks. Now what? The only thing that works to make it work is to leave the computer off for at least 12 hours. When you turn it on, it will work decently for a little while. ARGHHHH!
every grace every ace every near miss/ every decent kiss by a pretty girl
So, due to my computer's ultimate crash last night, I crawled into bed at midnight. I'm really trying to sleep on a decent schedule. I woke up at 2am, wide-awake, because that's normally my prime hour. I climbed back into bed and lay there, my mind going crazy, until I fell back asleep. No more afternoon naps! Go to sleep at a reasonable hour! I can do this. I had a dream that I was at Dr. Kenoyer's. So, I woke up at reasonable hour, showered, and went to Kelli's discussion. Oh Lane, darling, Kelli's discussions are about 900 times more interesting than yours. After Kelli's discussion (Kelli = rad, Lane = Oaxaca) I had the exam. Okay. I did okay considering I studied for about 1/2 an hour. I feel horribly though, because I know Lane expects me to do wonderfully and I totally and completely FUCKED myself on the essay. It was a hard ass-fucking too, not happy queer fucking. I'm thinking of writing an e-mail to Lane telling him I'm sorry for being such a disappointing student. My academic performance recently = awful. Really. I got the worst grade I have ever gotten in my ENTIRE LIFE on my geology exam. I'm talking about the worst grade I've ever gotten, including middle school math.
she was an angel/ she looked like an angel/ and all of the angels did sing
So. Identity? Yes, identity. The other day, one of my more casual acquaintances introduced me to one of her friends as a lesbian. Whoa. I had a revelation. My straight friends think I'm a lesbian! Even some of my gay friends think I'm a lesbian. I have so many issues with that word and thusly, have identified as queer and NOT A LESBIAN for several years. I've been so lax about my hetero friends calling me a lesbian because I don't really feel like explaining to them how I do identify, and because it's easier to say "lesbian sex" than to describe the sex I actually have. So, I'm thinking... I'm going to have to deal with this sooner or later.
and the angels were watching/ and the angels were listening/ and the angels were on hand to stand in for everything
So, my heart is racing because I am intensely embarassed by my lack of performance on that exam. Also, tomorrow is queer food and I don't have a date, so I'm not going. Basically, I am just really disgruntled with my life. My therapist let me rant for 1 1/2 hours on Monday and now, I just want to rant all the time! He has unleashed some kind of horrible demon. The ranting demon! Oh, God, I am so embarassed about that exam. I will probably be kicked out of the anthro department and Sissel will hate me forever. I'm so embarassed. Someone needs to harbor me, because soon I'm going to need asylum.
P.S. Should I post the pictures of Sara with bad lesbian hair? Or the picture of Sara drunk? Would this be of interest?
Joyful Girl
(Ani DiFranco)
Tuesday, March 11, 2003
09:13 p.m.
i do it for the joy it brings/ because i'm a joyful girl
New Ani today. Despite having heard all the songs, I am still horribly excited. Sara and I were going to go the release party at the feminist bookstore last night, but ended up staying in, watching TV, and giving Sara bad lesbian hair. I walked home around 2:30 in the morning. It was freezing cold out and I had to detour to return DVDs. I dawdled on the way back, listening to Ani and looking at shoes. I found some that I like, but I am not allowed to go look at them until tomorrow, because I have exams for which I must study. I shuffled along, watching my breath. Supposedly, it will be 60 degrees on Saturday. Sam was rather excited about that when I told him, but he's going to Florida, so it doesn't even matter.
because the world owes me nothing/ and we owe each other the world
Isleta finally came to an agreement over what to do with the land grant money. They're by-passing the requirement that 20% of it be used for tribal programs and distributing all of it to the elder tribal members. My mom gets some. I asked her what she was going to do with it and she told me. It's a land grant, reparations from the government for taking our people's land, so she's going to use to it to buy back land. Not just any land. Land for me to raise my children on. I almost cried. It's only about 10 years away, my return to to the Pueblo, PhD in hand. My mother and I talked about the need for me to have Isleta babies. We're going to try and figure something out, some kind of donor situation. We joked and said we'd put up signs around the rez.
i do it because it's the least i can do/ i do it because i learned it from you
Someone needs to whip my sleeping habits into shape. I very, very rarely go to bed before four. Last night, I went to bed at five, because Adrienne and I felt compelled to peruse the Pottery Barn catalogue and talk about nothing. I was so exhausted today that I got up in the middle of Dr. Troxel's discussion of Micah 6:1-8, dragged myself down the hill, and crawled in bed, only to emerge at 7. Now I'm drinking a Coke (Adrienne's got me addicted; I hate Coke usually.) and will surely be up late again tonight! I have to be up early, because I have to go this anthro thing. I need to sleep. The hardly-any-sleep-at-night-plus-draining-afternoon-nap deal is killing me.
and i do it just because i want to/ because i want to
Next week is going to start off hardcore. It's Grand-père's jahrzeit on Monday and Purim starts at sundown that night as well. Tomorrow, Hillel's having a hamentaschen bake-off. Unfortunately, I think you have to actually make hamentaschen to get to eat it. I'm okay at making it, but I don't think I really want to bake it tomorrow. Purim is a fun holiday and since I'm already vaguely planning to make Sara eat pierogies during break, maybe I can make that coincide with Purim and be a good Jew for once. Purim is a good holiday because one is supposed to drink a lot of wine. Esther rocks, because she was a bad ass lobbyist. Purim is also fun because you are supposed to be really loud on it. Yay holidays occuring during break so they can actually be celebrated!
Angry Anymore
(Ani DiFranco)
Monday, March 10, 2003
01:13 p.m.
i've seen both my parents play out the hands that they were dealt/ as each year goes by, i know more about how my father must have felt
My father. I spent the first 16 years of my life adoring him beyond belief. I spent the next 4 years of my life trying to escape him. We've been fairly estranged for the past 4 years, especially since my stepmother came to America. Now, he's creeping back into my life. After years without seeing him, he came to visit me in Minnesota. He came to see me again, just before my birthday. Still, I haven't spent any longer than 5 minutes alone with him since... Well, it's been long enough that I can't even remember. My father. I am his daughter, I am a reflection of his personality- demanding, arrogant, and intense. Neither of us understands how to turn our backs on love. It is his ability to turn his back on his family that had alienated him from me.
she taught me how to wage cold war with quiet charm/ but i just want to walk through my life unarmed
My dad used to be my friend. When I was 14 and 15, we took walks every single night. We discussed anything that could possibly come to light. Then my dad found Yula and I found girls.
to accept, and just get by like my father learned to do/ but without all the acceptance of getting by that got my father through
I love to sleep and I feel like I never get to do it. This is mainly due to the largely unproductive final three hours of my day. If I could stop listlessly watching TV, writing non-sensical e-mails, and rereading archived posts, then I could add 3 hours to my sleep time. For two nights in a row, I've dreamed of Sara's wedding. Last night, I was watching, watching from some kind of vestibule in a Russian orthodox church, holding tulips. I was holding a little boy's hand. I think he was Sara's baby. The two of us were quiet, watching Sara's marriage. The little boy had really big eyes and very clean shoes.
night falls like people into love/ we generate our own light to compensate/ for the lack of light from above
I've been trying to think of appropriate gifts for Chancellor Wiley all day. I like the idea of something engraved, maybe a clock. PaChia wants a plaque, but that seems really silly to me. Maybe a pen set? Personally, I want to get him an engraved zippo and a box of cigars, because he'd actually like that. Who really wants an engraved plaque from 25 students he's only seen 4 or 5 times?
Not With You
(Tegan and Sara)
Saturday, March 8, 2003
11:39 p.m.
from the liquor stores/ to the train stop floors/ your filthy room your drama blues
It's so weird when the songs which used to make you think about one woman make you think about another. And then, nostalgic about the second one, you listen again and realize now- now, they remind you of a third. Life is crazy. I've smoked so many cloves in the past 30 hours or so that I cannot wash the smell of smoke off my body and out of my mouth. I am furious that The Den was out of Blacks and I had to get Lights. Of course, I am too lazy to make detours over to State Street, so I have been smoking them. Then, shock shock shock, it turns out Sara has been a closet smoker since last Sunday and had a pack of Blacks in her room. So, I smoked the last of this week's Blacks, several of Sara's, and the Lights. Sara would really like it if there were Djarum Purples. Of course, they'd have to be some kind of fun flavor, but we're not exactly sure what that flavor would be. Suggestions?
I am nothing if I'm not with you/ I'm always right always wrong
I have this annoying habit (well, I think it's annoying) of talking to myself under my breath in French. Tonight, I walked home (in the freezing, ass-fucking cold in a fall jacket with my collarbone exposed) and talked myself in and out of various decisions regarding my life. Luckily, no one walked closely enough to me to hear what I was saying. So, if you pass me on the street and I'm saying something like "la viscitude! mais pas pendant le printemps!" quite angrily, please, don't be worried. I'm perfectly aware that I'm crazy.
dressing bad is like loving you/ there is nothing I haven't worn/ nothing I haven't said before
Last night was very entertaining. Sara regaled me of stories of her night for hours. She also gave me rather explicit instructions on how to give a blowjob (which I will probably never, ever use) and informed me that she would be my girlfriend. Drunk Sara is hilariously disconcerting. I hid her computer's power cord to prevent her from inebriated blogging and she tried to convince me to fix the computer by telling me it would be okay, she would sit on her feet while blogging. Sara didn't throw up or really need any assistance at all, other than being catered glasses of water. However, it was definitely worth being present, just to hear her firmly tell me to "stimulate the scrotum!" in a very animated manner.
when you look at me/ oh so angry I know it's true/ my strength has come from loving you/behavior I just can't grow into
Selena was talking about having a baby today. Someone posted a link in her comments to the most darling short film. I haven't thought about babies for a few weeks and now it's all coming back to me. I'm ready to dig out my dog-eared Rachel Pepper and start dreaming of how I'm going to dress little Asher. No babies! No! I can't even commit to growing my hair long! I was telling Holly the other day that I don't think I want to raise my future baby with a partner. There's nothing inherently wrong with single mamahood. Ariel Gore did it and Maia is a gorgeous child. I can do it too. Not now though.
so you fake and you flaw/ for your cops and your cause/ it makes no difference to me/ it's love that you stole, that you stole
Today, because of the lack of suitable winter attire, I did not return the DVDs to Four Star. I am really, really going to regret that tomorrow, or Monday, when I will be forced to go out of doors and walk all the way there to drop the idiot things in the slot and then walk all the way back. I'm not sure I'll have the time; this week is one of my bona fide hell-weeks. I have an exam in Prehistoric Europe followed by one in Archaeological Methodology. Lane actually sent me an e-mail in which he noted that I am frequently bored in discussions. Lane notices?
so here I am/ around this world will I be enough?/ this is nothing I haven't said before/ you are nothing I haven't felt before
So, time for an extended evening in which I will analyze the shit out of Micah, depend on my albuterol to cure the past 2 days, and pray to God I will wake up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and be able to dress, go to review, study, and do my laundry. Also, mother fucks, sign my guestbook.
She's Your Cocaine
(Tori Amos)
Friday, March 7, 2003
05:37 p.m.
She's your cocaine/ your Exodus laughing/ and she knows what you are
I've been awake for about three hours now. I've been sick all week. Actually, I was feeling better yesterday, so I went to all my classes. I went in to Prehistoric Europe and someone told me I looked horrible, even though I felt like I was looking pretty good. Thanks. It's been a long, difficult week. I had my intake at 8:30am on Wednesday. I have a follow-up on Monday. I've already made arrangements to attend alternative labs and discussions. I've been on the waiting list for this appointment for months.
so shimmy once and do it again/ bring your sister if you can't handle it
Tonight is Sara's birthday. I have forcibly dragged myself out of bed, into clothing, and into a mindset to go out. If I don't start feeling better soon, I am going to be extremely angry. I went to bed at 10pm the other night. I haven't been to bed that early in... God knows how long. I just want to drink a lot of apple juice and go to bed. Blehhhhhhh.
she says you control it/ then she says you don't control it/ then she says you're controlling/ the way she makes you crawl
How people built megaliths is beyond me. Seriously. There is a site in Brittany with thousands and thousands of menhirs in twelve rows. How did ancient peoples do that? How did they drag all those enormous boulders around and erect them? It fascinates me. However, if I think too hard about it, it really stresses me out. It's like the thought that the universe is infinite. That scares the shit out of me. It's so big- I have nothing to measure it against. It makes me feel so small. When I am crying, I think about the stars- about how far they are. How all this love and pain can be enclosed in my 127 pounds- how much more is out there? And what if all that is out there is... nothing?
Hey Jupiter
(Tori Amos)
Mercredi de Cendres
Wednesday, March 5, 2003
07:10 p.m.
sometimes I breathe you in/ and I know you know/ and sometimes you take a swim/ found your writing on my wall
Ash Wednesday, and we all know what I need to give up for Lent. I sit here, at my desk, and listen to that song that reminds me so much of her. I make it all frivolous, because I don't want to admit what's really going on. I reach out to people, because I want them to comfort me. Instead of letting them do so, I rationalize beyond belief so that no one can get even close to letting me cry, to letting me acknowledge what I'm really feeling. Anyway, we all know what I should be giving up for Lent this year.
if my hearts soaking wet/ Girl your boots can leave a mess
Today was the Student Strike/ Peace Rally. I ran into Emily up near Bascom and hung out with her and Eileen. I saw some choice people, it was a very interesting morning. Coming home, I realized that none of the people who are important in my life went. The people around me aren't politically pro-active. Then, with a jolt, I realized I haven't been either. As always, I spout off my radical rhetoric. However, I'm not out there organizing, I'm not out there running for any offices. Instead, I show up to rallies and listen to the speakers, forgetting that it used to be me that did the speaking. Who have I become? Am I happier this way?
nothings been the same/ so are you gay?/ are you blue?
The other day, I reread my old paper journal. And I remembered what was in the one before that. Surprise. I have the exact same fear that I did then, on that page, when I finally broke my policy of only using blue ink to plead with the Powers That Be to make things right. I pray that same prayer now. Just... make things right. And make me not want what I do, because it drives me insane. Almost as insane as... plaid Polartec pullovers. Honestly Lane...
thought we both could use a friend/ to run to/ and I thought I wouldn't have to keep with you/ hiding
What am I fighting for? When I fight for peace, for whom am I fighting? Whom am I hoping to keep safe? Who are the people whom I love? Does those people, the ones I adore, do they love me?
My Own Invitation
(Wild Strawberries)
Sunday, March 2, 2003
1:25 a.m.
I remember the time/ When you were right
I am becoming increasingly pensive, which is not a good thing, as I'm already overly introspective. I've been told I live my life in the past. It's true, I think I'm unable to appreciate the present, that only the past is dear to me. I could talk about this forever. Of course, there are huge segments of my past I am intent on forgetting. It's really self-defeating, wishing and wishing that I could change the decisions I have made in my life. I am learning to confront my own reality and move forward. I am learning to appreciate things for what they are now- not for what I wish they would become and what I remember them being.
You said that maybe is as good as might/ That's the time you went and broke my key of life
I need to go shoe shopping. I realize how personal shopping is to me. I generally refuse to buy clothing or shoes when I'm with other people. I can scout things out with other people, but I'm very hesitant to buy clothes and shoes when my friends are around. The same goes for earrings. I can buy underwear, stockings, and mittens around other people, because they are so basic and don't change. I think I can also shop with friends I see rarely; such as when I'm on vacation. Something to aspire to- the ability to buy clothing other than blue button-down shirts with a friend. Small steps, small steps. I should probably shop with friends, because the number of blue button-shirts and black skirts in my wardrobe is rather excessive. I need to expand into other colors.
It's not a crime/ To keep things cold
I must gush about my soft bed and pajamas again. I love them. I love getting into bed at night and curling up under the duvet. I try to sleep as much as possible. I hate getting out of bed in the morning (er... afternoon) because it's so soft, even if I'm not sleepy in the slightest. I have taken to studying in my bed, because I like to snuggle up in it. Is this a major sign that I need a girlfriend? I'm having an affair with my bed, for heaven's sake!
I'll never mind/ What I'm told/ I don't want you messing with my rubber soul
I am not allowed to date until late summer. This is for my own good. I need the time to process my past relationships and loves. The ultimate goal is to be happy with myself. The secondary goal is to be in a relationship because I like the person, not because I need to get over someone else. I have two kinds of loves. One is the overwhelming love that I have felt twice in my life. This love is not plausible for relationships, because I would go into the relationship already deeply in love and it would make the relationship too intense, too quickly. The second type is the love I feel out of desperation; love I feel because the first type of love is so overwhelming that I need an escape. Okay. I need to stop with this entry because I sound like a crazy person!
