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Saturday, March 17, 2001
it feels like sunday! but it's not!
yesterday started out simple enough. woke up and went to art class where ralph complimented my color theory painting and told me funny war stories, fear of russia, etc. i came home and slept! finally, after a week of no sleep, i am catching up, i feel so much better. a pleasant phone call woke me from my nap, rachel came out to the hall and told me the venture grant decisions were in our mailbox. i didn't get mine, i have a lot of beef about this, and it lead to five girls sitting in a room bitching about the college. ours were all turned down, except becky and karen who got a whopping two-hundred of the twelve-hundred they asked for, what a kick in the pants. it looks like a lot of ugly politics, i think there will be some letter writing going on, i don't want to start bitching about this here and now.
so rachel, bryan, and i went to the dollar store where we purchased a fine (no) handsaw for cutting the wood generously (ahem) donated by a fraternity and three beautiful figurines for our apartment (seahorses, a rooster, and a dancing woman). we came home with the intent to drink our old style and work on our pieces for the art show. but first we called a bunch of indierockstars, most of whom were not home. we giggled like schoolgirls and planned to ask them to junior prom. many of the numbers were disconnected, apparently being an indierocker doesn't pay the bills (note to self). so then out to the hall for sawing and sanding and painting and drinking. but then, suddenly, all of these people showed up and turned it into a party or something, it really sucked, i loathed every second of it. after my rock/n/roll/marcia/brady bloody nose incident rachel and i had a mini-therapy session in which i admitted something that i've known for a while but has recently resurfaced and argh, it's a great thing but so hard for me to deal with, i dunno what to think. yargh, maytee. so eventually i went to the basement with my plywood and PAINTED IT BLACK (teehee) with the fine german lacquer provided by my mother (thanks, mom!). the wonderful butchdyke security guard, mel, busts in thinking she's caught a vandal and then just laughs at me when i squeak "it's for my art project." then she bums me a smoke and tells me these outlandish buttrock stories and i believe every single one of them. she is such a fucking riot. then, a bit of drama is dealt with, things are okay now. drift into sleep a bit before seven a.m. wake up in the midst of another weirdo dream. talk to evan online and feel a bit ill. my mother calls, i lose it and cry some more, we talk for a while and i feel a bit better. now i want to clean my room. well, i'd really rather work on my ODE TO SCREAMO project, but it looks like a fucking bar in here, but i am tired of playing barmaid.
sixty watts, brighter than my future / an empty forty, fuller than my life
oh, screamo.
posted by marisa jo
@ 15:17
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well, spring break 2001 is winding down. let's recap. okay.
fri 3/9 - pick up mike, smoke cigarettes, talk ad nauseum, drive around, drink coffee, feel dejected at pmu. everything goes as planned.
sat. 3/10 - rainer maria at fireside. no drinking. more cigarettes. CHECK YEAH! CHECK ONE TWO! CHECK... YEAH! we both decide we hate rainer maria, a joke we will carry with us the entire week.
sun. 3/11 - um, work. yeah. something something. i saw ted hearne, it was very nice. he is one of the only boys i know who i feel truly respects me. however, that list is slowly growing and for that i am extremely thankful. so i dont have to hate half the human race?! wow! mike and i did something, but i forget what.
mon. 3/12 - bronchitis sets in...fucker.
tues 3/13 - mike ray.
wed. 3/14 - mike ray.
thurs. 3/15 - mike ray. day of twleve hours on couch. maury:frivilous, jenny: shocking!, sally: serious, touching. much as expected. watched the color of paradise, a "beautiful, calming movie about colors" (mike ray), although he wouldnt know because he fell asleep immediately. we also watched another movie which upon it's end, we made a pact to never discuss again because it was the most horrifying thing we have ever seen. however, if i am drunk i may talk about it, but i wont want to. oodly oodly oodly oodly oodly oodly fun fun fun.
fri. 3/16 - promise ring at metro. fun as always. saw matt schiltz complete with new facial hair and new girlfriend. tahiti 80 - no.
and tonight, is what i have been waiting months for. the piece de resistance - the slackers. free. at beloit. on st. patrick's day. little does that band know, but in 12 hours i will make them all part of my concubine. no....i dont need a concubine anymore. this fake boyfriend will do just fine. oh, farewell, my concubine.
posted by vic
@ 11:12
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Friday, March 16, 2001
I am a vat of sadness today. I'm so easily irritated and on-edge, but my problems seem very trite, and unconsolable by anybody else. Yesterday, my old lady friend said she didn't want me to visit her anymore, because I was irresponsible in calling her a day or two ahead of time, twice. school is sloth for me, and I just want to be held. and I want to sleep next to someone. That shit's being accelerated by the fact that everyone in this house is attached to someone, but me. And it's so strange that these kinds of natural human needs are so often looked at as being cheezy or superfluous.
posted by Record Album
@ 16:21
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Wednesday, March 14, 2001
Ok I have started and aborted my blog too many times. Have a look at this.
posted by egeus
@ 21:22
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This is a funny article
posted by Record Album
@ 21:16
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i couldn't sleep, didn't get to the place where i am a viking until ten-thirty this morning. there are two packages in the mailroom waiting for me. they are from france and i am afraid they are letterbombs. how did the french find out what i think of them?
posted by marisa jo
@ 13:14
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Tuesday, March 13, 2001
yeah, gee, if it wasnt for smoking, i wouldn't have this...chronic bronchitis. fucking a. didnt smoke all day today though, ran around the block (mine lungs!) and ive been soberlicious for a week. everything's coming up milhouse.
except for the fact that kit just got in a huge car accident. i was going to return some videos and i drive by talcott and canfield to see his car smashed to smithereens and him standing looking quite shocked and sad in the abandoned parking lot there. some man in a van ran a red light and kit hit him. then the van hit someone else. he's lucky he didnt get really hurt though cuz he wasnt wearing a seatbelt. i guess volvos really are the safest cars in the universe. i feel really bad though, what a bummer. i got out to talk to him and he's all, "do you want a coat?" jesus h. christ, how does one get that wonderful?
alright, off to something something.
posted by vic
@ 20:37
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yeah, i like smoking. i like it a lot. i think it's fabulous.
got a 'B' on my feminisms midterm, got my grant proposal in on time, go me. the end.
posted by marisa jo
@ 18:10
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Teacher, I have two comments.
The first belated one is hey matt! what's up? Yeah, long time no see--i had break a while ago, but I'll be back at the end of April, I'm very jealous of your purim.
Secondly, I think that part of that study on smoking is true, but that was horseshit when that fucking sophomore from New Trier said "it's pathetic that they punish us for smoking when they are the ones that cause it" whatever man. I mean I could say that really Father Ro made me smoke, I mean he practically could have stuck a "square" (whoa, remember that saying?) in my mouth!! Rrrright Blah blah, I don't know about you kids, but for me it was such an identity thing. There were the train kids, and there were the TRAIN kids (unneeded, I know) , y'know we who smoked outside of the fucking station because it was cool, and it set us apart, and we were bad-ass prep school kids just trying to survive man!!! Put a fork in me because I'm done...Without Phillip Morris, I would never have become friends with my brother or bonded with my sister or been able to talk to t and shitloads of other people. Wow, that's really horrifying, but so true. Sick man
posted by Record Album
@ 16:23
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and dozens of moretti's valets get a chance to finally say, "this town is dry, man", and be telling the truth.
so this is why we all smoked. not. all you trainstation smokers, please read this and get back to me. it kinda creeps me out. according to this, teenagers are starting to smoke because they're stressed out from their grueling academic hellholes. when are they gonna do a real report on smoking. this just in: smoking makes you cool.
lame office humor (quickly becoming my favorite brand of lame humor): the commissioner's office has been plagued by a faulty copy machine ever since we renovated the offices. our beautiful, triple power, fetus mutating super machine has been sent over to inspections causing much strife on this side of the 11th floor. the machine we now use jams constantly so that no more than two copies can be made in a row without having to open it up and remove some stuck paper. because of this a notebook has been placed next to it so that employees can voice their complaints about the machine. i dont know if the complaint book was to pacify people into believing that someday action would be taken to rectify the problems, or if it was just a method for creative expression. once just a place for large, heavy-handed scrawls of "i hate this machine! why is it doing this to me? why am i so unfulfilled?!", it is now a haven for the budding comedian, evident by the latest and greatest entry - "dis machine be jamming more den bob marley, man"
who is this brilliant mind?! and why arent they out doing the circuit instead of wasting away in some god-forsaken cubicle?
posted by vic
@ 09:45
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ooh wacky! my pal brooke was at the same purim celebration as you were, uncle matt.
old style has such little class that they don't even have a website for me to link to. i love old style.
back to school, back to school, grant proposal due tomorrow afternoon, give me money.
until then i read about sex work. and write about it, too.
and work on my terrible 'art' project, i am lousy. goodnight.
posted by marisa jo
@ 02:04
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Sunday, March 11, 2001
Steph- I too celebrated Purim. I also went to the Hillel Association, but the difference is, it was really (something). There must have been 50 kids there, about 2/3rds jewish, and a band playing klezmer/klezmer ska/klezmer rock and there were groups of jewish boys chanting in hebrew and doing shots and there were pretty jewish girls doing some crazy square dance kindof thing. So anyway, we hit the keg and did some shots, and then this kid showed us this shoe-slapping dance and we did it until we couldn't breath, and then this hillarious drunken a capella group started singing and rapping and I almost lost my shit. I saw this kid Jehuda that I know and he was plastered, and he had a Nike yamulke. That made me think, what a crazy world we live in. So I ate some pretzels and got out of there. They told us we could have the kegs if we stuck around until the end, but we didn't, because we got crazy and had to leave before everyone realized we were stealing all their booze. THE END
posted by heinous
@ 21:17
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Vic: Abe
...
ABE
...
Mike: Abe
...
posted by marko
@ 19:17
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Guess who is working at REI with my brother? erin fucking paavola! why can i never get rid of her and why must she always make me feel bad about myself because i made her anorexic? (not)
posted by rayve nation
@ 18:10
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Purim! Purim! Purim!!!
Thursday night, Ella, Alicia and I set out for some crazy Purim action. Purim, I was told, is a Jewish holiday where you dress up and then you hear this story in temple and everytime you hear the evil man's name you make noise to block it out. Also, you are supposed to get so drunk afterwards that you can't tell the difference between Mordecai (sp? good guy) and Hamman (sp??? bad guy). So Alicia goes as a catholic school girl, and Ella and I as men, complete with mascara facial hair. So first we go to the Hillel Jewish Students' Association and much to everyone's embarassment, there are only 8 hard core Jewish kids holding a service, and we are the only 3 bozo's dressed up. We receive dirty looks as Ella meagerly says "hey, why isn't anybody dressed up?" They direct us to the prayer books and say "flip to 289" as I scramble to find the page and figure out why everyone is facing us (yeah, they were facing east, not us). So we get out of there after 2 minutes of my stifled laughs because of the situation (Could I be more of a dick, coming into a prayer service and laughing?!) and proceed to go to a real temple, where we sat in the women's section dressed like men. It was mad fun, but also quite uh humbling.
Also, we went knocking on doors to see if they were for rent next year around the neighborhood, and we ran into so many stoners. It was pretty fucking funny listening to these two kids who had the typical look and laugh of stoners explain the house to us.
posted by Record Album
@ 17:56
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