So I really should be asleep right now. I have to wake up in about three hours, the sun's up, and I'm just sitting around on my computer, thinking about pasts and futures like I usually do... Something about actually lying down and going to sleep kind of fills me with a huge "but I don't wanna!", and it's been a while since I've written a proper entry. So...
Easter was interesting. After my sleep-deprived week, all I wanted to do was be unconscious for a good twelve or so hours. This disappointed both me and Bunnyman, who was going to go Easter shopping, and when he had trouble motivating me to move my lazy ass out of bed, he left. I was confused and sad, even though it was a little thing, and so spent the rest of the day rather hungry because there was no food in the house, playing Katamari Damacy and running to the door at the slightest indication of a car. I pissed him off because I was sleepy. Dammit. Moodier and moodier every day, someone needs to offer him a job that pays at least 24k a year before we both go crazy. I'm not at the end of my rope by any means; past history has shown that I can handle a hell of a lot more than this in relationships. I don't let things go that easily. But still, I thought the woman was supposed to be the moody and unpredictable one in the relationship. Sheesh. Maybe he should start taking Midol until he finds a job that doesn't make him want to commit arson.
So we have a long talk about religion over many beers and some mindless movies. He was reading my facial expressions amazingly in his drunken state, and asks me what made me give up God. It's true that I used to go to church, and that at some point I stopped going and began to view Christianity as a kind of non-option. When he asked me that, though, I realized I really couldn't pinpoint any real defining moment that made me say, without a doubt, "Well, gee, God sucks." I really don't know. So I've been thinking about it a bit, and the past again. Every once in a while, I get one of those revelation-type memories that I'd forgotten a long time ago, usually something in my childhood, that almost explains something, like the feeling of comfort I get in small, dark spaces. Either that, or it's a little thing, like suddenly remembering the first time I saw a penis (It was on a little Mexican boy, running around Paramus Park in New Jersey, naked as the day he was born with his little sister. I was about 5.) Maybe someday I'll get a flash that explains why, or when, I lost faith. Or that tells me if I ever had any at all.
Perhaps he's taken to task to convert me. To "accept into my HEART the ONE true Lord Jesus CHRIST!" or something like that. I do think he's missing one thing, religion-wise, though. Faith in a God is not a bad thing by any means, but the one thing you need to have faith in above all is yourself. If God wants him to do something, how will he be able to if he doesn't have faith in himself to do it first?
Anyway, enough of that. Religion can be a big off-button for people sometimes. You can see them power down like a robot whenever it's mentioned, voom... I do it myself every once in a while. Voom...
Things are complicated. They will always be complicated. They will never be simple. We, of course, strive to make them simpler. That, in turn, makes other things even more complicated. Is there a balance in complicatedness that has to be maintained? What happens when we try to make things more complicated? What becomes simpler? I'll have to think about this more later.
I need more cigarettes...
3.29.2005
3.23.2005
quickie
I'm still awake. I need to take at least a short nap. Almost done with my reading, then I have to start on some writing. Presentations, papers, abstracts, research... I am by no means an academic. If only they had a degree in random knowledge with a credit waiver exam... Class 'till seven tomorrow. I'm skipping my morning class to finish my work. It's sad when you have to do that. This class is not allowed to devour my soul. I won't let it.
Spring break was good. Can't ask for much more than food, beer, sex, video games, and brain-deadness. At least, I can't. Maybe I just haven't experienced the finer things in life. Or maybe I have, and they're just not worth it.
My eyes hurt. My room's a pit for piling junk. I must push on. Chug-a-chug-a-chug, woo woo....
Spring break was good. Can't ask for much more than food, beer, sex, video games, and brain-deadness. At least, I can't. Maybe I just haven't experienced the finer things in life. Or maybe I have, and they're just not worth it.
My eyes hurt. My room's a pit for piling junk. I must push on. Chug-a-chug-a-chug, woo woo....
3.10.2005
I have been doing a bit of drinking
Not a lot, mind you. It seems I have the alcohol tolerance of an elephant, or something. The last couple of days I've just been craving beer-like beverages. I shall chalk this up to menstruation. The myth is that women crave chocolate. Some do. I don't, and crave beer instead. Bite me.
Part of this might also be due to the crazy fluctuations in my stress level. I discovered on Tuesday that I'm going to survive this week, because my presentation and all isn't going to happen until after spring break. For this I am immensely grateful, because I realized just how impossible it is to write a 12-page midterm, read a 200-page book, and develop a half-hour presentation in one day. I guess I could, you know...if i could stop time. That might be a good superhero power to ask for if, one day, they ever happen to be distributing those.
As it is, I have to do a lot of this over spring break. Despite the fact that I don't have internet access at home, this won't be so bad. Bunnyman has the week off for vacation, and my need to do work might make him have to come over and spend time with my parents as I leech their wireless from them. There's an odd sort of growing animosity between Bunnyman and my mom, mostly because she says really stupid things and doesn't think about the consequences of saying them. Maybe mom's presence can reassure him that she doesn't really hate him. She's just stupid.
I also found out that we're going to be moving sometime in the very imminent future. This has been causing a bit more stress to fall into my growing pile. I come here, and am preoccupied with schoolwork, but at home is a growing possibility of all out war with my neighbors. It has escalated to the point that we're going to start boxing things up this week. By this time next year, I will likely be calling Bridgeport my satellite base of operations. Probably sooner than that, but certainly by next year. I think this'll be better for all of us. I had a dream the other night about getting in a catfight with Tammy (the alpha-neighbor-female). She was in a catfight, anyway, and I was martially dodging her blows and landing my own. I wonder if this is what I'd do in a real fight. At any rate, this can't be healthy, and I do believe it's time to move on. Neighbor landlords who extort you into paying their credit card bills (when they're making more money than you and can actually get credit cards), bitch at you when an overworked Bunnyman falls asleep and misses his invitation to the bar, and routinely leave the Kiddo to her own devices while they go to a basketball game or the carnival or wherever without her, suck. Nuff said. I think they've done enough emotional damage to Kiddo to just warrant us leaving. But, eh, whatever. They suck. I shall fill Kiddo full of hateful thoughts towards them at a later date. No, that's not true. I'll let her come up with her own.
Speaking of Kiddo. I found her bio-mom's home phone number on the internet. Oh, how I love the internet! Her mom gave her calling cards for Christmas, telling her that she can use them to call her. Whenever she wants. So they can talk. Her mom is evil for too many reasons to list here, child abandonment among them, and we thought it rather interesting that she failed to give Kiddo her phone number with these calling cards. So I found it on the internet, and suggested she give her mom a call. Wasn't she surprised....
Oh, what a good other-woman am I. Ha!
In other news, eggcorns make for good linguistic amusement. People reformat language to suit their own understanding.
And LimeWire won't work. Bastard P2P hinderers...
Part of this might also be due to the crazy fluctuations in my stress level. I discovered on Tuesday that I'm going to survive this week, because my presentation and all isn't going to happen until after spring break. For this I am immensely grateful, because I realized just how impossible it is to write a 12-page midterm, read a 200-page book, and develop a half-hour presentation in one day. I guess I could, you know...if i could stop time. That might be a good superhero power to ask for if, one day, they ever happen to be distributing those.
As it is, I have to do a lot of this over spring break. Despite the fact that I don't have internet access at home, this won't be so bad. Bunnyman has the week off for vacation, and my need to do work might make him have to come over and spend time with my parents as I leech their wireless from them. There's an odd sort of growing animosity between Bunnyman and my mom, mostly because she says really stupid things and doesn't think about the consequences of saying them. Maybe mom's presence can reassure him that she doesn't really hate him. She's just stupid.
I also found out that we're going to be moving sometime in the very imminent future. This has been causing a bit more stress to fall into my growing pile. I come here, and am preoccupied with schoolwork, but at home is a growing possibility of all out war with my neighbors. It has escalated to the point that we're going to start boxing things up this week. By this time next year, I will likely be calling Bridgeport my satellite base of operations. Probably sooner than that, but certainly by next year. I think this'll be better for all of us. I had a dream the other night about getting in a catfight with Tammy (the alpha-neighbor-female). She was in a catfight, anyway, and I was martially dodging her blows and landing my own. I wonder if this is what I'd do in a real fight. At any rate, this can't be healthy, and I do believe it's time to move on. Neighbor landlords who extort you into paying their credit card bills (when they're making more money than you and can actually get credit cards), bitch at you when an overworked Bunnyman falls asleep and misses his invitation to the bar, and routinely leave the Kiddo to her own devices while they go to a basketball game or the carnival or wherever without her, suck. Nuff said. I think they've done enough emotional damage to Kiddo to just warrant us leaving. But, eh, whatever. They suck. I shall fill Kiddo full of hateful thoughts towards them at a later date. No, that's not true. I'll let her come up with her own.
Speaking of Kiddo. I found her bio-mom's home phone number on the internet. Oh, how I love the internet! Her mom gave her calling cards for Christmas, telling her that she can use them to call her. Whenever she wants. So they can talk. Her mom is evil for too many reasons to list here, child abandonment among them, and we thought it rather interesting that she failed to give Kiddo her phone number with these calling cards. So I found it on the internet, and suggested she give her mom a call. Wasn't she surprised....
Oh, what a good other-woman am I. Ha!
In other news, eggcorns make for good linguistic amusement. People reformat language to suit their own understanding.
And LimeWire won't work. Bastard P2P hinderers...
3.08.2005
silly internet meme
I'm procrastinating. Shut up.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Meagunn
2. Me-ahh-gone
3. Babywrabbit
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. Luna. I took this name for a summer at Augusta, and a lot of people didn't know better...
2. Phelia. Same as above.
3. Zork. My first screen name when I was eleven or so.
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Linguistic ability. Yay!
2. The ability to kick Bunnyman's ass at Star Wars: Battlefront.
3. I can cook. Mmm, curry...
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My general appearance. Not that I'll do anything about it.
2. Being poor.
3. Being very abnormally social... even including normal sleep patterns, etc. Maybe I'm not from here.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish Catholic.
2. Russian Jew.
3. British, hurrah. My great great great great grandfather signed the Declaration of Independance. He didn't have good handwriting, either.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Losing my new family.
2. Having to drop out of school/not getting a good job when I get out...
3. Bees. Yup, bees.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Meagunn must smoke.
2. Meagunn must dick off on the computer.
3. Meagunn must talk to a Bunnyman.
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Black polyesther pants that I recently stole back from my sister. They are comfy.
2. Purple sweater that I stole from my mom years ago. (She now has no cool clothes. She didn't have much in that department to begin with.)
3. A small quantity of metal. And smelly socks.
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS (or artists) AT THE MOMENT:
1. Counting Crows. I heart Adam Duritz, it's true.
2. Eastern Youth. Japanese emo is cool.
3. The Cure. Robert Smith makes me swoon...
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Modern English - Melt With You
2. CCC - Close to No One. It's a mix of The Beatles (I forget which song) and The Cure's Close to You. It rocks.
3. downlowtooslow - Pure Freaky. A mix of Placebo's Pure Morning and Missy Elliot's Get Your Freak On. It rocks too.
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Sleeping a normal eight hours? Yeah, maybe.
2. Going on a road trip with Bunnyman. You must road trip with those you love. It's a rule. I am an old hand at this.
3. I want to go to the new hookah bar downtown. Need to find someone to do with me, though. It's lonely smoking a hookah by yourself.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. A good sense of humor. Being serious all the time can be very tiring.
2. Acceptance and understanding. You don't try to change me, I won't try to change you. This is silly. People get into a relationship, then attempt to try and change the person they're with? Why did you even get into a relationship with them in the first place? Compromise, dammit!
3. Comfortability. I want to be able to fart in front of someone and not feel weird. Sometimes things just need to come out, you know?
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1. I have lived in three houses, two dorm rooms, one apartment, one foreign country, and two cars. I don't reccommend sleeping in the back seat of a Volkswagen Bug unless you're very small and it's very necessary.
2. I used to do some strange things to both the inside and outside of my body. Given the chance, I would do some of them again.
3. I was once abducted by aliens outside of Roswell, New Mexico. Wait, that might not be a lie...
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Skin. That smooth, pale as milk look...
2. Arms. I like skinny, sinewy arms. It's like being wrapped in cables...
3. Boobs. Hey, I really like boobs.
THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Math. Algebra killed my family, and I told it I never wanted to see it again.
2. Eat tomatoes. Tomato soup, fine. Ketchup, fine. Smooth tomato sauce, fine. Tomato chunks? Get those damn things away from me!!
3. Get things done before the last minute. Deadlines are motivation, didn't you know?
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Playing video games. I will do this for several days straight if allowed.
2. Playing Dungeons and Dragons. This is fun.
3. Discovering the oddities of the human race through the medium of the internet.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Eat a DP Dough. Mmm, cheese...
2. Forget about all the crap I must do.
3. Go hoooomeee!! Vacation!! Arrgh...
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Linguistic analyst for the FBI.
2. English teacher in Germany or Japan.
3. Pond scum.
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Japan.
2. Korea.
3. Some secluded, non-touristy island in the Carribean.
THREE NAMES YOU LIKE FOR YOUR FUTURE KIDS:
1. Maximillian.
2. Nicholas.
3. Zoe.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Have a kid. Someday. Yes, I eventually want to breed. But maybe it'll be a good lesbian/gay kid, and the line'll stop there.
2. Live in a little townhouse in the French Quarter in New Orleans.
3. Be a really cool old lady. You know, the kind with tattoos who'll smoke weed and bake apple pie with you and sawp stories about counterculture and weirdness back in the old days. Little kids usually think these old ladies are crazy.
THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW OR DIE PAINFULLY:
1. no one.
2. no one.
3. no one. Take it if you want, but I'm not going to wish death on anyone. Jeeze, That's a little severe, isn't it?
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Meagunn
2. Me-ahh-gone
3. Babywrabbit
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. Luna. I took this name for a summer at Augusta, and a lot of people didn't know better...
2. Phelia. Same as above.
3. Zork. My first screen name when I was eleven or so.
THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Linguistic ability. Yay!
2. The ability to kick Bunnyman's ass at Star Wars: Battlefront.
3. I can cook. Mmm, curry...
THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My general appearance. Not that I'll do anything about it.
2. Being poor.
3. Being very abnormally social... even including normal sleep patterns, etc. Maybe I'm not from here.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Irish Catholic.
2. Russian Jew.
3. British, hurrah. My great great great great grandfather signed the Declaration of Independance. He didn't have good handwriting, either.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Losing my new family.
2. Having to drop out of school/not getting a good job when I get out...
3. Bees. Yup, bees.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Meagunn must smoke.
2. Meagunn must dick off on the computer.
3. Meagunn must talk to a Bunnyman.
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Black polyesther pants that I recently stole back from my sister. They are comfy.
2. Purple sweater that I stole from my mom years ago. (She now has no cool clothes. She didn't have much in that department to begin with.)
3. A small quantity of metal. And smelly socks.
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS (or artists) AT THE MOMENT:
1. Counting Crows. I heart Adam Duritz, it's true.
2. Eastern Youth. Japanese emo is cool.
3. The Cure. Robert Smith makes me swoon...
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Modern English - Melt With You
2. CCC - Close to No One. It's a mix of The Beatles (I forget which song) and The Cure's Close to You. It rocks.
3. downlowtooslow - Pure Freaky. A mix of Placebo's Pure Morning and Missy Elliot's Get Your Freak On. It rocks too.
THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Sleeping a normal eight hours? Yeah, maybe.
2. Going on a road trip with Bunnyman. You must road trip with those you love. It's a rule. I am an old hand at this.
3. I want to go to the new hookah bar downtown. Need to find someone to do with me, though. It's lonely smoking a hookah by yourself.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. A good sense of humor. Being serious all the time can be very tiring.
2. Acceptance and understanding. You don't try to change me, I won't try to change you. This is silly. People get into a relationship, then attempt to try and change the person they're with? Why did you even get into a relationship with them in the first place? Compromise, dammit!
3. Comfortability. I want to be able to fart in front of someone and not feel weird. Sometimes things just need to come out, you know?
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1. I have lived in three houses, two dorm rooms, one apartment, one foreign country, and two cars. I don't reccommend sleeping in the back seat of a Volkswagen Bug unless you're very small and it's very necessary.
2. I used to do some strange things to both the inside and outside of my body. Given the chance, I would do some of them again.
3. I was once abducted by aliens outside of Roswell, New Mexico. Wait, that might not be a lie...
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Skin. That smooth, pale as milk look...
2. Arms. I like skinny, sinewy arms. It's like being wrapped in cables...
3. Boobs. Hey, I really like boobs.
THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Math. Algebra killed my family, and I told it I never wanted to see it again.
2. Eat tomatoes. Tomato soup, fine. Ketchup, fine. Smooth tomato sauce, fine. Tomato chunks? Get those damn things away from me!!
3. Get things done before the last minute. Deadlines are motivation, didn't you know?
THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Playing video games. I will do this for several days straight if allowed.
2. Playing Dungeons and Dragons. This is fun.
3. Discovering the oddities of the human race through the medium of the internet.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Eat a DP Dough. Mmm, cheese...
2. Forget about all the crap I must do.
3. Go hoooomeee!! Vacation!! Arrgh...
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Linguistic analyst for the FBI.
2. English teacher in Germany or Japan.
3. Pond scum.
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Japan.
2. Korea.
3. Some secluded, non-touristy island in the Carribean.
THREE NAMES YOU LIKE FOR YOUR FUTURE KIDS:
1. Maximillian.
2. Nicholas.
3. Zoe.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Have a kid. Someday. Yes, I eventually want to breed. But maybe it'll be a good lesbian/gay kid, and the line'll stop there.
2. Live in a little townhouse in the French Quarter in New Orleans.
3. Be a really cool old lady. You know, the kind with tattoos who'll smoke weed and bake apple pie with you and sawp stories about counterculture and weirdness back in the old days. Little kids usually think these old ladies are crazy.
THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW OR DIE PAINFULLY:
1. no one.
2. no one.
3. no one. Take it if you want, but I'm not going to wish death on anyone. Jeeze, That's a little severe, isn't it?
3.07.2005
I am slowly going crazy
One two three switch three four five switch....
Just because I don't answer my phone doesn't mean I'm definitely drunk, sleeping, or just don't want to talk to you. Sometimes I'm stuck somewhere I don't really want to be where cell phone usage is not really appropriate.
It's not cool for your phone to ring four times during a movie where there's only one other person and the professor present.
I'm really not sure why she didn't think it was as long as it was when she saw it once already today.
I have thus far written one small paper, read 30 pages of Jenseits von Gut und Boese, watched an incredibly boring German movie, and had dinner. I have a long way to go...
Just because I don't answer my phone doesn't mean I'm definitely drunk, sleeping, or just don't want to talk to you. Sometimes I'm stuck somewhere I don't really want to be where cell phone usage is not really appropriate.
It's not cool for your phone to ring four times during a movie where there's only one other person and the professor present.
I'm really not sure why she didn't think it was as long as it was when she saw it once already today.
I have thus far written one small paper, read 30 pages of Jenseits von Gut und Boese, watched an incredibly boring German movie, and had dinner. I have a long way to go...
3.04.2005
rain falling through filters
I really shouldn't be here at the moment, writing. As evidenced by the previous post, I have a whole host of things I really ought to be doing, but right now can't really bring myself to do any of them. My mind is wandering, and it's starting to feel like it's time to pay another visit to Meagunn's Island of Lost Toys...
I used to write a lot. I've still got my old notebook here, worn burgundy leather covered in dust, but I don't carry it everywhere like I used to. Poetry, mostly; my attempts at writing stories were like aborting mutations. Poetry had a less solid quality to it, which was perfect for the way my mind worked. Words skipped from one meaning to the next, and something simple could be expressed in the most complicated terms, or vice versa. Writing was my drug. It shaped me, but it's almost as if I've moved past that now. I don't know how you could; maybe it was really just a symptom of teenage angst. The "spoooky Gothik dark poetry" all about blood drops on rose petals, or something. Except I never really wrote like that. I did pay some attention to style, at least.
I don't know, it's strange when you look at the places you've been. There are so many directions I could have gone, but instead, here I am in Morgantown, slaving it out on a masochistic path to survival and redemption. I could just as easily have stayed in Seattle, in the mist with the beautiful junkies and gypsies. Or I could be in Lawrence, Kansas, in a studio loft somwhere studying art and photography, looking on at endless fields of grain. Or I could be in Ireland, granite and rain and smoky pubs, studying Victorian literature and theater and working at an Oxfam shop. But I'm here. And I don't really write anymore. I just think, passively, and every once in a while feel that old sense of wonder looking at weathered granite against a sunset. In a way, I've grown up. In a way, I'm an overgrown child. I don't know what to think of myself anymore, other than not to think. Existing should be enough.
Indulge me for a moment. Looking through my old shit, I found some stuff I still rather like, and this is my "unassuming feminist poem":
we were going to be waitresses
while our friends were dancers in Vegas;
they were the last drops of ambition
in this bitter brew.
the others drank it dry;
it was too strong for us.
Cindy would be a truck driver
when the bottle was still full
and all I wanted
was to climb trees
with skinned knees---
you decided who you were,
didn't you?
not a piece of skin
and coincidental organic chemistry,
grown up things
but instead it's torn down.
age makes them fat
and complacent with child,
but there is a secret still,
and it's marked the ones who've tapped it:
a spark in the eyes
and a sudden two-step in shoes
among those who've forgotten
how to dance---
age may turn us to penguin dust
taken as pleasure for the masses
but they cannot insist
the impossibility of flight;
the stage is ready
to be danced upon
and some have not forgotten.
----------
I don't know. I just started thinking...
I used to write a lot. I've still got my old notebook here, worn burgundy leather covered in dust, but I don't carry it everywhere like I used to. Poetry, mostly; my attempts at writing stories were like aborting mutations. Poetry had a less solid quality to it, which was perfect for the way my mind worked. Words skipped from one meaning to the next, and something simple could be expressed in the most complicated terms, or vice versa. Writing was my drug. It shaped me, but it's almost as if I've moved past that now. I don't know how you could; maybe it was really just a symptom of teenage angst. The "spoooky Gothik dark poetry" all about blood drops on rose petals, or something. Except I never really wrote like that. I did pay some attention to style, at least.
I don't know, it's strange when you look at the places you've been. There are so many directions I could have gone, but instead, here I am in Morgantown, slaving it out on a masochistic path to survival and redemption. I could just as easily have stayed in Seattle, in the mist with the beautiful junkies and gypsies. Or I could be in Lawrence, Kansas, in a studio loft somwhere studying art and photography, looking on at endless fields of grain. Or I could be in Ireland, granite and rain and smoky pubs, studying Victorian literature and theater and working at an Oxfam shop. But I'm here. And I don't really write anymore. I just think, passively, and every once in a while feel that old sense of wonder looking at weathered granite against a sunset. In a way, I've grown up. In a way, I'm an overgrown child. I don't know what to think of myself anymore, other than not to think. Existing should be enough.
Indulge me for a moment. Looking through my old shit, I found some stuff I still rather like, and this is my "unassuming feminist poem":
we were going to be waitresses
while our friends were dancers in Vegas;
they were the last drops of ambition
in this bitter brew.
the others drank it dry;
it was too strong for us.
Cindy would be a truck driver
when the bottle was still full
and all I wanted
was to climb trees
with skinned knees---
you decided who you were,
didn't you?
not a piece of skin
and coincidental organic chemistry,
grown up things
but instead it's torn down.
age makes them fat
and complacent with child,
but there is a secret still,
and it's marked the ones who've tapped it:
a spark in the eyes
and a sudden two-step in shoes
among those who've forgotten
how to dance---
age may turn us to penguin dust
taken as pleasure for the masses
but they cannot insist
the impossibility of flight;
the stage is ready
to be danced upon
and some have not forgotten.
----------
I don't know. I just started thinking...
3.03.2005
and it all comes crashing down again
Here's a quick rundown of all the wonderful assorted crap I have to do in the next week.
Friday: Communications midterm and Anthropology quiz. Then get ready to go home.
Saturday and Sunday: Spend time with Bunnyman whilst also making time for laundry, Sociology review and paper writing, and reading books I need to read.
Monday: Sociology exam. Sociology paper also due. Then to the library to watch a German movie for homework.
Tuesday: Two German papers due. Also a German midterm. Should have gotten caught up on the book I need for it by now.
Wednesday: Presentation on Nietzsche's "Beyond Good and Evil". These are usually a little traumatizing. Need to have read the novel by now.
Thursday and Friday: Another Anthro quiz. Other than that, I really hope nothing...
So I did find this: Squashed Philosophers. Hopefully It'll help me get my presentation done. I am going to go crazy... and I'm still not in that damn class yet!!
In other words, J-Walk Blog is down. Go look at Bifurcated Rivets instead. For all you link miners out there...
Friday: Communications midterm and Anthropology quiz. Then get ready to go home.
Saturday and Sunday: Spend time with Bunnyman whilst also making time for laundry, Sociology review and paper writing, and reading books I need to read.
Monday: Sociology exam. Sociology paper also due. Then to the library to watch a German movie for homework.
Tuesday: Two German papers due. Also a German midterm. Should have gotten caught up on the book I need for it by now.
Wednesday: Presentation on Nietzsche's "Beyond Good and Evil". These are usually a little traumatizing. Need to have read the novel by now.
Thursday and Friday: Another Anthro quiz. Other than that, I really hope nothing...
So I did find this: Squashed Philosophers. Hopefully It'll help me get my presentation done. I am going to go crazy... and I'm still not in that damn class yet!!
In other words, J-Walk Blog is down. Go look at Bifurcated Rivets instead. For all you link miners out there...
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