Rollerblades

I'm not going to be overly poetic about this, because I think the situation is quite poetic in itself:

Every Wednesday at 2:30 I walk back from my class alone on the left side of the street.

And

Every Wednesday at 2:34 he skates by alone on the right side of the street.


And that's all I have to say about that. But that's never all I have to say about anything.

Today I walked with a friend, and as he passed, I told her that he was my favorite.

And she asked if I had a class with him, to which I responded, "no".

And she asked how I knew him and I pointed as he turned off of Beech Street and I said, "that's how."

She stopped asking questions. "Oh". And she laughed. And I might have laughed a little too, but it wasn't the sort of laughter that you'd expect- it wasn't that shared laughter that comes from an uneven pause in conversation. I realize now that I was laughing at myself again.

I could have told her how much more I know about him. Or you. Or I could have just kept laughing like it was religion, like I was trying to startle the gods with a hem and a haw, trying to awake the hand of fate til it dropped from the sky and shoved me to the other side of the road. But then He would have heard. And then maybe he'd stop skating down Beech Street every Wednesday at 2:34.

Fall-out

Loving this weather. It's lame to talk about the weather, but really I have been noticing and appreciating the breeze every day, and how it makes me feel. I have two sweaters here at school with me this week. Next week, we'll have to stock up.

My mom is the greatest lady evar. When I came home last weekend, she had apple cider for me.

I'm getting together with Al again this weekend, since he's coming home from OSU for some reason. I think we're going to watch Will Ferrell's Volume 2 "Best of" DVD. I don't know what's happening here, so I'm just going to relax and roll with things. I think I might be single for a long time, but I don't mind much. I hate discussing matters like these. It's not lady-like.

Now I need to go and get experienced.

Rock it Off

Sweet time yesterday. (After my initial "first time in front of laptop writing important paper" shellshock.) I wrote three of my random papers and started to attack the big one, thanks to the kindly (and quite speedy) assistance of Lesh and Mulhall.

I rewarded myself with a free trip to the Rock Hall. I feel like a little girl there. I want to run around and touch everything, which is just not acceptable. The last time I went to the Rock Hall, a lot of John Lennon's writing was on exhibition. That whole room was an experience. I foolishly desire to have my poetry stored under glass one day. That's before I realize that I'm not John Lennon. I wrote about this in my livejournal, so I won't say too much more. I saw the glasses that he was wearing, but I won't say too much more about that either, for different reasons.

This time they had Supremes costumes in the same room that John's lyrics filled last time I was there. It felt strange- like I was cheating or something.

Tomorrow night is a full moon. My roommate tells me strange things happen under full moons. Right. Because strange things don't happen under half-moons. What do they call that other kind? Crescent? Waning gibbous? Waxing gibbous? Evs, yo.

I want the weekend. I feel like I eat my last supper every Sunday before I come back here.

October 15th, where are you?

Laurel Roether deviated something in my spine I think. That was one of the best hugs I've ever gotten. I keep track, too. I've got lists for everything these days. And everything's very clean at this desk.

I need to read something.

Those crazy liberals

Jonathan Kozol was a bumbling little man, but he still kept my attention. I'm glad I got to see him. I've got to run out and read all his books now, because that's just the kind of girl I am.

I DON'T want to write this paper. Grr.

My body has never felt heavier. I just played tennis for an hour and a half, and this was on top of my already weak immune system. (I've had the makings of a cold this week) Haven't played tennis since gym class in eighth grade. You would think that jogging so frequently over the summer would make me a little more fit. Yea. Not so much. Every single part of my body aches. I can't even move from this chair. I suck at tennis, therefore, tennis sucks. Oh well. Can't win 'em all.

It's like callbacks. I didn't win those either. But honestly, I really don't care so much about that. After I checked the list, I just sort of walked backstage and painted a whole styrofoam brick wall by myself. Very therapeutic.

Aside from feeling like a corpse, I really love my life right now.

The soundtrack of my aches and pains:
Elvis Costello- Allison/Vertical Horizon- Sunrays and Saturdays/Pearl Jam-Yellow Ledbetter/The White Stripes-We're Gonna Be Friends/Van Morrison- Crazy Love/Green Day- Longview/Ellis Paul- Changing Your Name

Those wacky liberals!

Last night Jonathan Kozol spoke here about racial inequality and how much of a travesty it is that schools are still largely segregated in America. He also spoke about how unappreciated public school teachers are. So naturally, I fell in love with him and wanted to buy every book he's ever written. I think I'll start with "Savage Inequalities". It's too bad that BW didn't have the sense to let him speak in the theatre instead of the damn hot "Union Ballroom" which is basically where we eat and sweat every day. Some of the people in suits were really hot and sweaty because they didn't know that it was going to be that hot...and they wanted to make a good impression as a representative of the freshman class at BW...and it's the nicest thing I had to wear, dammit! Oh well, I survived a heat stroke. Good for me.

This morning I wrote an article for the Maelstrom about how paradoxical it is to market a "cult film". (Napoleon Dynamite) I hope they like it.

Callbacks today. Mmm. Then maybe "Translations" tonight. Or Swings 'n Things. Huh. Culture or bumper boats?

Mellow today. Vertical Horizon/Elvis Costello this morning.

Yellow Ledbetter now.

Top Five Things I Miss

1) The studio.
2) Showering without sandals on my feet.
3) Hot baths.
4) My car.
5) You.

Hold on, Voltaire

This week was a bit disappointing, and it culminated in a sudden trip home where my mother calmed my nerves and helped me prioritize everything that needs prioritize.
So I won't write for the Maelstrom this semester. I'm already in with the staff; I've got almost four years to revolutionize satire as we know it.

Theatre is different. You kind of have to keep putting your face out there, letting them know that you're interested. So I'm auditioning for two of our student-directed one-acts. One is called "Specter" and I've regrettably fallen in love with it, and how it makes me feel to read the girl's part. She's edgy, provocative, philosophical, sexy- all those things I wish I could be. Unfortunately, I promised myself that I would not become attached. I'm new, dammit. I need to start behaving like it. The other play is up in the air for me- the title is "It's Called the Sugar Plum" and it's very interesting, but the female role is not as appealing to me. Either way, I'll probably read for both parts. Out of 6 roles, 2 are for women. But that's a pretty accurate ratio as far as theatre goes.

As for Buzz TV, I'm doing it for credit so I'm pretty much stuck. Not that I mind, but it adds a few more elements of stress to my life. Here are a few of them:
1) No blanket license because we put our stuff on the web- so we can't use ANY music with a copyright. Hello, midi files!

2) The girl who forced her way into doing an interview for a segment of mine has yet to e-mail me her schedule- and we're slated to shoot before Wednesday. Ha. Fat chance.

3) I like my producer a little bit, so I'm going out of my way to make a good impression. He's 25, and I'm not really sure what he's doing here, but whatever. But I don't like him because that would be settling. I won't settle.

4) This is unrelated, but I wish I could have a car here. It would be so much easier. I could drive to Taco Bell and get a Crunch Wrap, or I could stop at the Regal Cinema or drive downtown to Indians games (I love baseball in the fall) or I could just run home one afternoon and check out the studio or get advice from my mom without having to inconvenience her by having her pick me up. Garr.

In other news, I forgot how much I enjoy "Swingers". It's funny to watch it now because that whole thing just died really quickly. But it was still sweet, and they had great shirts.

The Day it Rained

Here I am in the rain, sans umbrella, and quite enjoying myself.

I think I want to have Ellis Paul's babies. I mean, I know that he and his wife pretty much have that covered, but seriously the man makes my toes curl and my knees turn to pudding. I've often been angry that I didn't have his music earlier in life, but I think these things sort of come around when we're ready.

I'm missing my Eddie Bauer* water jug, and I'm super mad. I drink 4 of those a day, and I'm now living in fear of dehydration. Spit. (Or no spit, if I actually do get dehydrated.)

*It's not really Eddie Bauer- I got it at Marc's for two dollars, but people don't generally know what kind of water container I'm talking about until I slap a brand name on it. It's the kind that Kuck had back in the day. Kuck was sweet.

The devil made me do it.

Well, actually Lesh did. Well, actually he didn't make me; this was just the easiest way for me to be able to post on his entries. It's sort of a minimalistic, half-hearted sort of blog, with a title that just screams, "what the hell else am I going to call it?" But it's mine. So I'll try to love it the best that I can.
Heh- I just spell-checked this entry and "blog" came up as an error. Funny stuff.