This week, not just yesterday or this day or whatever, sucks.
I’m misanthropic, more so than normal, I’m despondent, more so than normal, and I’m fucking ready to get out of here. BUT, and oh! ain’t it a big ‘un, I don’t want to go back to Carthage. Not even more than 3-4 weeks I’m gonna be there. I want the road trip to be good. I want the newly adopted New Orleans/Whiskey River Landing trip to be good. I want the rest not to be.
Mom emailed me. She denied the things I might have heard from Rachel. There’s no drama at home and she most certainly, while she did have “stress-related issues”, attempt to hurt anyone or herself. Somehow, I don’t buy it. I don’t know. I think that’s have, in that Bob Dylan sense of the word, changed. And there’s nothing to do. EXCEPT, go to Argentina for 7 months. Come back to Missouri for a few weeks. Then leave for Reed. And not come home.
I’m considering the off-campus (+on-campus, because financial aid covers it, so I might as well take advantage of it and have a board plan) for next year. We’ll see though. First I just need to leave the continent.
Between Me & Break
1) Spanish final:
…. 5-7 pages about Santa Teresa and the representation of desire within some poetry and how it connects to her being a woman mystic and all that jazz during the Spanish Inquisition, i.e. the exploitation of her goodies to get her point across. DUE 10-Dec-2007, 5pm.
2) Film Noir final:
…. 10-12 pages about John Alton transposing the noir aesthetic from the gritty L.A. streets/city streets to the wide open spaces of the Mexico/California border. DUE 10-Dec-2007, 5pm.
3) History final:
…. 10-12 pages about Guaman Poma and how the drawings from his Nueva cronica y buen gobierno acted as a sort of counterhistory (in their outright and spatially inclined rebellion) to the standard historical texts presented in the time directly following the Conquest of Peru. DUE 10-Dec-2007, 5pm.
4) Packing, preparing the car for the trip, et al on that front.
Nothing, right?
I hate today. I think God’s pissed at me for something. Don’t ask me what I did though, cause I sure as hell don’t know. But today sucks. Hard.
David Garrett really liked my last history paper. He also doesn’t want me to use the 200 page English abridged version of Guaman Poma’s work, instead, I now have three volumes of Nueva cronica y buen gobierno, i.e. 1,200 pages of old Spanish/400 drawings sitting on my desk. Yeah, I had to find all 3 missing copies in the library. FUN. I am now starting to get a bit stressed about finals. All of mine are due on Monday the 10th by 5pm. I don’t much care about my Spanish final about la poesía de Santa Teresa, but I really want my film noir and my history papers to be good, because, well I’m interested in my topics. Seriously, they’re freaking awesome.
No more Vegas for Heather and I. Instead we are going to drive to New Orleans. I convinced Heather although she’s already been because I introduced her to Whiskey River Landing. Where are ultimate destination is now.
I’m torn about my look-alike, because now I really don’t care, but I feel like I’m wasting a chance to get laid by a hottie by ignoring it.
We’ll see tomorrow.
Heather bought us 2 train tickets to Las Vegas. Only problem, as I pointed out to her today, was she picked the lesser-known Las Vegas. That is, the glorious, 14,000 strong, Las Vegas, New Mexico. Tomorrow, we’ll see if Amtrak lets her pull a switcharoo… If not, Neuva Mexico… here we come!
Such a cutie, but I won’t make a move. Cause I’m a pansy. And a girl. And really, a week? A week is nothing, right?
I have my film noir presentation tomorrow. I won’t talk loud enough, I know it. Oh well.
I’m starting to love the week before. Why? Because it is the only week of the month that I want to eat, as in really want specifics things. Like french toast. And pumpkin. And hot chocolate. And ice cream. And candy bars. And potato chips. At the same time. For reals.
This was basically the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had. No family involved, either. I barely talked to anyone (save those I wanted to talk to). I was exceptionally happy the whole time. I watched I’m Not There in a crowded theatre of people who didn’t like Thanksgiving, either. I wore a pretty dress with pretty tights and pretty flats. I got told I was pretty. I ate pumpkin and a can of cranberry sauce. I got messed up. I watched another movie (yay! Wonder Boys!). I danced. Then I wrote. All of this out of order, of course, except for the writing part. I did that last. Then I saw the sun rise and went to bed.
And now I’m drinking hot chocolate with Irish Cream thrown in for good measure and I’m feeling pretty good. The Christmas spirit almost overtook me on Black Friday when I was at the mall and was almost compelled to call my Mom. No dice, though, not yet.
A week and half of classes left. Tomorrow, I make a move. Or at least, I want to, but won’t really because I’m completely inept when it comes to talking to people I don’t know. But we’ll see, maybe my cocoa will carry me through. And I can hold his hand and kiss him for a while before I leave the continent. That might be nice. His is, after all, my first official real crush since Hardie. Which is saying a whole lot, really. So we’ll see. But mainly I just want to know whether he knows how cute he is or if he’s unaware. That’s what I am really interested in. We shall see.
Super story wrote under super circumstances, i.e. first Thanksgiving all alone. First 21+ concert in an almost empty, really sad Portland. Good times, though…
Today I bought two pairs of cute shoes (one for $2.50! Thank you Payless pricing error and BOGO!). I ate taco bell and went to Fred Meyer to buy Irish Cream and Eggnog. I’m reading a book and I just finished the crossword.
Rawk.
I walked home from Roseland last night after the concert. About 6 miles, 2 hours. I got some thinking done which is why I walked instead of taking the bus. I thought I found my breakdown last night after Ryan Bingham covered a Townes Van Zandt song (“To Live is to Fly”) and then followed it with “Hard Times.” I started to cry, but then I stopped. So I don’t know.
So today is Thanksgiving. I woke up at 2. I made some malt-o-meal and chai. Cleaned the house. Did this and will probably make some pumpkin. Then maybe I’ll go watch “I’m Not There” and then I go to sleep. Hopefully.
Thus commences my Thanksgiving of greatness.
We shall see where it takes us. As of right now, I’m totally riding the bus to the concert so I can get my drink on (duh). Although I worry about buses, it’ll be fine. Tomorrow, I’m gonna drink, dance, and not die. Then Friday, I’m going downtown to the Macy’s Parade/Tree Lighting/et al. Saturday, don’t know. Sunday, oh you already know!
And I’m so going for perfect attendance in history. Even when my look alike wasn’t there today, I still knowingly went! Score one for greatness on my part.
