Monday, Fifth Week
"Don't do it again, or I'll come downstairs and I won't be naked." - Eighth floor Carolyn, 01/025
I don't know that I ever properly thanked Patrick or Brooklyn for signing my guestbook. So then, thank you both.
It occurred to me as I was walking home this evening that I've overcome my homophobia, which was a pleasant surprise. I don't expect the same to happen to my anti-Frankism, but that might be because of the different between fear and dislike, in that one often desires to eliminate fears to a much greater degree than one desires to alter one's preferences.
And now, I will pause briefly to relate the conversation I was not able to include in my last post. I have this habit of anticipating such scenes and conversations as might be awkward, though the exact situations rarely occur, and thus my hypotheses remain merely, well, hypothetical and anticipatory.
If I said, "If I loved you, how would you want me to express that?" then she would ask, "Do you love me?" I would say, "If I say yes, and qualify my answer, you will resent me for doing so. If I say yes and do not qualify my answer, you would not believe me and resent me for lying. And if I say no, it would hurt you." I would look upand into her eyes, and then I would say, "Let me say that I love you enough not to answer your question."
What a weekend I have had. Paper due Friday afternoon, raight? So what do I do Thursday night? Why, go to the Fireside Bowl, of course! To make this post of a tolerable length, I'll post about that some other time. But I was out for seven and a half hours or so. Not to worry; I got my paper in on time, and I personally think it was an alright paper. That 'doing the reading' thing kinda helps, I guess. Friday night, went to a party I was invited to. Apparantly it was a Circus party; it was awesome. I wrote a haiku about it that I think is actually worthwhile. It was spontaneous, as all good haiku should be. I would post it here, but I think I'd rather maliciously submit it to Euphony. I do a lot of things maliciously.
Saturday, did laundry, patched four pairs of pants, and party-hopped between David's birthday party and Srikant's birthday party. Both were fun; Srikant's was packed. I danced for a bit, then struck up a conversation with this Hitchcock girl Lorange. Well, Lauren Sailor. Sailor! She was pretty cool. When the cops came, we rolled over to David's party, which was dying down, so we rolled back to Srikant's, where we ended up taking care of her very drunk roommate. Said roomie, Alyssa, was quite, as they say, well-stacked, and many people confessed when she was out of the room they were having a hard time keeping their hands off her. I'm glad my friends are the types to not take advantage of drunk girls. Except Jay Lee, who kept groping her quiety. I'm not sure she noticed. *headshake* Eventually, I drove them back to Snitchcock in Mike's car, and then Mike and I went back to Shoreland. Last bit: coming off the elevator, I see some guy lying with his back to the elevators on a couch in the lounge. I'm like, 'Ah, well, whatever.' Then he falls off, and I chuckle. Then I notice that Maria is also lying on the couch, and can't help chuckling harder. Then I went to bed. It was good times. All the parties were good parties, as judged by the standard that I enjoyed myself while sober.
Oh, yeah, and check out Small Stories, 'cause it's freakin' awesome.
Tuesday, Fourth Week
"Damn it, Ian, those were my flying monkeys!" - Shannon Wood, 01/16
Has it been that long since I've updated? I know I've meant to post many times in there. In any case, the most recent things are that I was worried my computer had a virus that would cause it to be formatted (it doesn't) and that I'm pissed off because the pictures I thought I'd taken off the old Akim site turned out to be duds. Meh.
Last week was Kuviasungnerk. Did not break any toes this year, but got frostbite on the soles of my feet, from which I have finally recovered. Ran in my T-shirt loincloth for the Polar Bear Run; it was fun. Odd things: Last year - Two nude girls, everyone keeps something on until 'Ready, set....'; this year - about ten nude girls, upperclassmen, and everyone, guys and gals alike milling about in the buff for a good ten-fifteen minutes beforehand. Andy from Dewey ran nude; he'll make a good Scavvy. (Can you believe I just used that word? Those girls are a bad influence, I tell ya. Every day I talk more like them.)
Barely convinced Stuart Gazes to let me stay in Physics, met with my advisor, dropped the compiler course, all on the last day of Add/Drop. Whew! Then I ran the Polar Bear Run, and got the frostbite. Then I missed both the IV/Brent House Evensong/dinner and the concertin the ballroom, because I had to make up a physics lab. Agh!
Saturday was movie night. Both Bill & Ted movies; good times. Afterwards, enjoyable converstaion. Anna, incidentally, has a fairly low tolerance for alcohol. I kept having to remind myself not to hope that she'd do something [irresponsible? curious? seductifying?].
Which brings me to the introspective stage of the post. Well, I'm not sure if 'introspective' is the best word. Perhaps 'contemplative'
would be better. The thing is, to the best of my knowlege (which is, admittedly, rather slipshod on the matter at the moment) Lisa Champion, ex-girlfriend, good friend, and one of the coolest (and cutest) people I know, recently converted to Christianity; that is, she was, it would seem, touched by God in the manner she had always demanded as a prerequisite for faith. This pretty much slots her into the category of 'Ian's ideal woman'; however, also renders her unavailable. If I were to pursue her now, the reason for my change in attitude towards her would be obvious, and, to Lisa at least, rather insulting. Not to mention it would involve me being somewhat of a shallow opportunist, which I'd rather avoid being. Moreover, it would not be healthy for her 'young' faith (nor, to a much lesser degree, for my own) to be in an amourous relationship with me. Thus, I still cannot and will not date her. Looking around me now, it is of course obvious that even if another such transformation should happen with another certain physically and emotionally attractive young woman I know, I would be in the same position again. Not that I do not desire that transformation; indeed, I pray for it; but I still lament that it would not improve my own situation. Arg.
I think I should start ending every paragraph with pirate talk. Avast.
So I was talking with Erin today; she seemed healthy, and she's off that psycho-diet, but it appears to have done her good, mentally and physically. She sent me some pictures. Looking at them, I was musing about how her eyes had always been one of my favorite of her features, and then my roommate looked over and commented on her eyes as well. I found it curious, though I guess I can't claim it's at all strange; the girl certainly does have distinctive eyes.
So, a while back I went to one of the dinners at Brent House; the one with Brother Wayne. Man, monks are so cool. He talked about mysticism as a part of spirituality. During part of his talk, I was struck by the thought (which I'm fairly certain did not originate at that point, but earlier) that sometimes the blood tastes like blood and the flesh feels like flesh and I can barely swallow. Communion truely a terrible, awesome ritual, sacrement. It means so much and it's so solemn and horrible, but it's still such a celebration, a feast. Lately, I'm sure my voice is not more than a whisper when I bear the chalice on Thursdays and say "This is the blood of Christ; this is the cup of salvation." I guess I just wanted to get that out of my system, me hearties.
So the other day I had a dream. Geoff laughed at it when I described it to him, and yes, it has humourous aspects, but it haunts me. I think it's the first ever dream in which I've died. It goes something like: We live in a grand old hotel, much like the Shoreland, but taller, and with a railinged balcony-lined shaft that extends from the lobby all the way to the top of the building. In the dream, someone mentions tome that this girl, whose name I can't remember, and who is possesed of multiple personalities, is in such-and-such a mind right now. I go up to see, knowing that this is the mind wherein she is, to put it bluntly, sexually aggressive. After a brief encounter of middling intensity, I head back two floors down. As I reach the railing on the balcony-walkway of my own floor, she cries out to me, and I stumble over the railing, and begin to fall. As I fall, I notice that she, too, has fallen down the shaft. In a very Halo-esque manner, I see her body go limp before she evn hits the lobby floor, with her name printed in the air over her head. Then I, in turn, die. During this fall, despite knowing that it is the girl who is actually to blame for our mutual fate, I feel guilty, the guilt of killing this girl. A few moments after my death, stillin true Halo fashion, I re-spawn, still feeling guilty, and with an understanding that she did not similarly return to life. A bit later, I awoke, matey.
In the dream, I could not remember the girl's actual name, and I remember feeling guilty, first when I went up to take advantage of her state, and then doubly as we both fell. However, upon waking, not only could I not remember her actual name, I could no longer, though I had recognised it within the dream, remember the name of the personality she had been displaying. For this, I even now feel guilty, arrr.
My roommate wishes to go to bed soon, so I'll wrap this up, leaving out the unconnected musing I wrote down in my notebook. Goodnight, ye scurvy dogs.
Sunday after First Week
"Yeah, except you put me in the shut-up cage!" - Peter, 11/3/02
So, yesterday. Since I was so sleep deprived, I wanted to sleep in. But I couldn't. I woke up after only ten hours, and was unable to fall back asleep. So I was still sleep deprived. I read the rest of God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater instead.
Then I got up and did laundry. After I put my stuff in the dryer, I went back upstairs to make toast. It was when I reached for the butter that I realiszed that the fridge had been unplugged for a day and a half. My milk went bad, my butter melted, everything else is questionable at best, and all of the ice in the freezer melted all over everything else. After getting all that cleaned up to a presentable degree, I went back down to get my laundry, only to find that the dryer my clothes were in had no heat, and did not dry them.
But then I went to the contra dance, after arranging to meet Beth afterward to see Once Upon a Time in Mexico at DOC. The dance was lots of fun. That one girl from Evanston (but not Northwestern) was there, as was Amy Steelman, and halfway through, Dawn, Anna, and Carolyn showed up. It was a grand old time.
After the end of it, that Jenna girl invited me out to dinner with her, Spider, and some others. I had to decline, so as not to stand up Beth. As it turns out, Beth stood me up instead, for which I can't blame her, because she wasn't sure she could make it. And I can't really complain, either, because after the movie, I would up having a conversation with, and subsequently walking home, that intriguing first-year girl from Euphony. She apparantly wasn't planning on coming back this quarter. She's still thinking about leaving. I tried to persuade her to stay, or at least give Chicago a good hearty try before making up her mind.
Then a bus pulled up soon after we got to BJ, and I rode it home instead of riding my bike on icy roads while wearing dark colours at night. And what do you know, Keith was here! If that's not a great ending to a night, I don't know what is.
Yeah, and there was this tiny Asian chick asleep in this armchair in Kurtz, Felt, and Dinesh's room.
Thursday, First Week
"A loaf that twists fate is not a loaf at all, but is, in fact, a pretzel." - No Need for Bushido
Um.... Snap.
Today was a busy day. I think. I can't remember, which means it was either really busy or boring. I was on campus, so I'm guessing busy.
I really need to start getting more than five hours of sleep a night.
Wednesday, First Week, Winter Quarter
"Are you jealous of my pants?" - Aby, 10/14/02
I took a nap in McCormic this afternoon, and when I woke up, my right thumb was sore at the joint. It's still sore.
Nick Heavens pulled me aside the other day and asked to talk to me in the hallway in a really rather ominous manner. He then mentioned that he'd come across my website, still acting fairly ominous. But that was it. He just didn't want Anna to overhear. Understandable. I'm of the opinion that se's not really come here yet, die to the fact that Vanessa hasn't come to talk to me about it. *shrug* That's why I'm not afraid to write what I feel in here but why don't the P and H keys on this keyboard work! Gah!
Sooo.... yeah. I went to court yesterday and ended up spending an overlarge portion of my day cold and frustrated. Despite this, I was exhilerated all day, and for the most part quite happy as well. I don't really understand myself sometimes.
On another note, I really like my new SOSC teacher. He's the bomb, as far as I can tell. I think I'm also going to like reading Hobbes, screwey English aside. I also like my abomination candle, because I'm a pyro like that.
But I still haven't finished unpacking from Christmas break.
Friday, third week of break
"Philadelphia is no Hyde Park." -Dinesh, 04/14/03
I moved back into the dorms on New Year's Day. I was awake because I spent New Year's Eve with my relatives, rather than with friends. Nate Aldrich was in Ames, anyway. Cold comfort.
I need to get out of this commercialist binge I've been in. Just because I have money doesn't mean I should spend it; just the opposite, verdad? People'll think my momma didn't raise me right or somethin'. But, yeah, Christmas. All of my maternal extended relatives got me Barnes & Noble gift cards. Meh. I was alright until the fourth one. Got a swank toaster oven, but no sandals, hot pot, or CD case. So I'll just buy them myself. Already did the case.
Want to fritter away some time? Try High Score. Don't forget to check out the Bonus Stage bits, as well. Oh, yeah, and this looks interesting, my misgivings about linking to LJ aside. See if you can guess which one(s) are mine.
I still have mIRC on my computer, though I never use it, and I never did get to see Erin over the break. Or Shavon. Or Nate. Meh.
I left a dining hall pear in my fridge over break, and when I came back it was finally ripe. Now I'm gonna go type and backlog (Is that raight? Should it be backlogue? Man, this is gonna bug me for days.) the two entries from earlier in the break now. "Building a Religion" by Cake may just be the catchiest song I know of.
Snap! I forgot to bring my guitar back!
Saturday, second week of break
"Well, you are very attractive, and you are pressing up against me." - George, Scary Movie 3
There's something great about having someone else's hair in your eyes. It's annoying, sure, but it's a sign that you're in the midst of something, something worthwhile.
I know I wish I could comic, and play guitar, but I also wish I could rap. I don't even know the difference between rap and hip-hop. Is there one? I'm such a fake on some things.
Oranges are good. During finals week, I peeled an orange for the first time in years. I found out that even with an uncooperative, messy orange -that is, one from the dining hall- it is worth the trouble. Oranges are good.
I wish I had more time to send hanging with my friends, like in high school. I miss the Sioux Falls of my high school years.
It just struck me that I wish my first kiss hadn't been with Amanda.
I think I'm still afraid of girls. I may be less obvious about it, but it's still there. "I'm still a coward through to Z", to quote half of myself. Come to think of it, I'm wearing the new 'scared to death of chicks' Snoopy boxers I got for Christmas. Of course, writing this, I'm not thinking of all girls so much as I am of a particular girl. As bad as I may be with the concept of dating, the concept of not dating confuses the monkey out of me. I tell myself that I should probably ask her what she meant by that, but I probably won't. It seems so forward, so insensitive, and so very, very creey. Now, in general, I don't have a roblem with being insensitive and creepy, but I still know that it's no way to win a girl.
I want very much to go back home, because I know that I don't belong here, but I also want not to leave Sioux Falls without spending some time with each of my friends. Lisa was supposed to go to the show with me tonight, but she disapeared. At least we had a lunch together. Erin I haven't even talked to, and Shavon only briefly when I ran into her at Best Buy. Nate's living in Ames, Paul has headed out to Pierre to spend time with Ursula, and Shaina I haven't seen since she picked me up from the airport. Oh, yeah, and I just this afternoon got Sophie's and and Nicki LaFleur's respective phone numbers. I leave Tuesday, bright and early, and Sunday is going to be a family day, which I resent only mildy, and that possibly only because the plan is that we'll be watching The Green Mile together.
That leaves Monday, and maybe Sunday night. Monday night is the Spill Canvas concert, which I don't want to miss, and maybe I can bring someone with me. I'm hooking up with Shaina at noon. With any luck I can go to Powerhouse Sunday night, and hopefully see Shavon (and maybe others) there, and hang out with Erin afterward. Gena invited me to a card night Monday, but I have no idea when or where that is. As for Sophie or Nicki, who knows. At least I got to spend some time with Matt and see my cat, raight?
Say, I need to take me some pictures of that cat.
Monday, first week of winter break
"We clean our bathroom every night." - 'Evil Paul' Cuselos, 06/07/03
Do I feel lonely? I don't want to know. Do I trivialize my lonliness? Of course; the question should be, do I overtrivialize my lonliness? Do I trivialize it to a degree that is not healthy?
Ah, health. Such an insufficient word.
Am I still in love with Erin? I tell myself I'm not. I love her, dearly, to be sure. But I refuse to be in love with her anymore. I haven't been in love with her for a couple years now. I have no room for dead carnations. Maybe, someday, I could be in love with her again. But not when I live ten hours away, and not until she seizes her independance.
I should call Nate tomorrow. I know that at least he is in town. I should really have called Erin already. And Shavon, since I promised I would. But, hey, this is still only my first day back, and I already went to the mall with friends.
I will not waste this vacation. I am not already doomed to failure.
I've decided to sleep in tomorrow. Hopefully, by the time I wake up, I will have created a world where I am living the magical-realism superero fairytale.
It was actually Matthew Perry that reminded me about that, the movement and all. See you in the new world.
Feeds: