thomas calvert wall may be dead

i'm sorry, i love that name. haven't heard from him since we parted ways, which is, okay, 2 days, and very busy ones at that. reading thomas's blog has effects on me: A) i want to write more, and be funnier (emily's has that effect too), and B) um, it makes me want to hug him and offer him therapy.


is it weird that i loathe watching movies during daytime?


. . . thomas just IMed me! he's not dead. i'm posting this anyway.

bitchy bingo

as i watched the 250 pound, sequined, fringed, blond drag queen gyrate like she was shakira, i posed to jeana the rhetorical question: what is my life? to which she replied "this:" and drew a picture of aforementioned russian drag queen. i now plan to eat pringles and hershey's minis for dinner amidst the pile of crap i call a room. "this" is indeed my life.

yesterday was hellacious; today i have hope

i am back home! and by home, i mean far, far away from my family. but damn do i love it here. i can't believe i'm back. helloooo, sarah lawrence, dream school! i'm a total convert this year, a starry-eyed acolyte if ever there was one. (see, it's already better for my vocabulary - or maybe that was the tom robbins novel i just read. i love that man.)

after getting my room key, my first move was to go see my room, completely empty, before i moved anything. i loved it. not the actual room, but the space, utterly to myself, my own. my desk is funny, i keep trying to think it's retro. i have only three drawers, which are smallish, which means i need to relearn how to use a hanger. i wish i had more energy right now, but life's been nonstop (pretty much literally) since saturday. and mana comes tomorrow. maybe i should just start doing crack. or give up on a normal schedule til next week.

i saw both my ex-roommates' moms before i saw my ex-roommates (actually, i still haven't seen audge, just bridge - their nicknames are funny - because we have to feminista-plan).

current events:
i got a pedicure and it was awesome. i would whore myself for those before massages. do i speak sacrilege? do i care?
i finished packing literally as i was walking out the door, after 2.5 hours of sleep.
no wonder i forgot the vital SLC paperwork and we had to turn around in the middle of the interstate.
my first (8:00 am) flight was canceled. so, after 28 minutes and 4 seconds on the phone fixing it (about 27.5 minutes of which was spent on hold), i got to wait around the alb airport for TWO HOURS waiting for my new flight to take off and eating things i would never eat under normal circumstances. that is lame, lame, lame. i ended up landing FOUR hours later than i was supposed to. suck suckity suck suck. so i did not eat or sleep well or anything on sunday, and it made me grouchypants. then i slept for six hours and got up and lugged all my shit across campus. no wonder all i want are fluids and a nap. i don't even really want chocolate, because it will make me thirstier. this is unheard of.

speaking of being thirsty, it is about 1000% humidity here, a feature i'd blocked out of memory. i wonder if the GW boys have melted yet, high altitude creatures that they are. they should come visit in cooler weather so they aren't all stinky. but they should come visit. actually, just thomas, he's way more fun. i like him way more than he likes me; that is unhealthy.

the east coast smells like home. smells live in the reptile brain, the primal part. like the smell of my mom. i accidentally caught her scent as we were saying goodbye on friday and i wanted to cry and quit work and just hang out with her. but the smell of damp grass, and humidity, and pavement and highway - the smell of new jersey and new york (not the city, the city smells like intimidation) - that's home. it makes me feel like a little kid.

temptress

"whenever we're alone together, you try to seduce me."

excuse me? accusing me of being sluttier than i am makes me want to grind your balls into hamburger meat, buddy. i may be slutty, but you are a sentient human being. i said no to you first, remember? and i hate it when people say "try" to seduce. nope, if i got you into bed, i won. i did seduce you. and you could have stopped it at any time, and then i wouldn't have. it's that simple. a la yoda, there is no "try". you piece of shit. i am not a rapist. i fucking HATE being blamed for other people's decisions when they clearly made choices for themselves.

me: i'm way more of an asshole when he's around.
thomas: you're not an asshole, even when he is around.

based on this conversation, and his blog, i would like to say i adore that man. even though he says pretty awful things about mana in his blog. have i mentioned how much i love the two GW boys? cause i do, lots lots lots. i am seriously starved for men i can stand in my life, and for good conversation. well, i'll get one of those at sarah lawrence.

and now, a list! man, i love me some lists.
list of shit to scare me:
1. moving on sunday, haven't technically "packed" anything.
2. pick classes. unpack.
3. arrival of mana. make her help unpack.
4. club chair training.
5. interview teachers, revise class choices. keep unpacking.
6. start classes. hold first feminist meeting, talk competently at said meeting.
7. find internship/job. attend, make money, stuff resume. repeat.
8. choose study abroad programs. apply. fret over affording them.
9. continue chairing feminists, don't kill brigid.
10. feel guilty upon leaving campus to watch jess play fall ball.

i left out a lot. i'm terrified of class-picking, club-chairing, study-abroad-applying. and feeling unloved. motherfucker.

some people are dumb

quoted from emily's blog: "is she crying?""yes, artie"(sigh)"how long will she be crying like that?""as long as it takes""should we try to stop her?""no, it's just what has to happen right now"-my parents.
wow, artie is real dumb sometimes. sometimes i can't believe he's been parenting for nearly twenty years now (yikes! i'm old!), and still something hasn't clicked. thank god he had daughters, his sons would have had no emotion whatsoever, and he would have been fine with that. thank god for brenda sometimes, i don't know how she puts up with it - and he started out much worse. he's come a long way. scary thought.

emily makes our lives sound more interesting and funny than i do.

i want to lurk everyone else's blog. i want to be like adam and blogstalk.

i'm very excited to return to school and have high speed internet again. dialup is killing me.

i want to write about and pine after the boys, the various boys. i wonder if it's easier to mourn someone when they're gone and alive or gone and dead. i bet em would say it's easier if they're dead. i'm not sure. death is unacceptable, but at least it lends a certain finality. it's very difficult to completely say goodbye to the living. i miss them. actually, i realize i don't miss the actual boys, i miss the myth surrounding them. i miss who they were, but that's not what they are now. what they are now is something . . . not helpful. they're assholes, and i don't know if they have been all along or if they've gotten worse or if i've just come to my senses. i want to call and rant and cry and bully them back into my life, bully them into caring about me, because i cared so much, i wasted so much time on them. damnit.

then there are the opera boys. how i love the opera boys in their lovely, ambiguous, adorable glory. i have more history than i'd like with some of them, i've made mistakes, they're all way more educated than me (even though a year younger and/or just graduated with the exception of ed, but ed is always the exception). mostly i like them because the banter is very, very different than the mind-deadening crap i experienced at capital. that's harsh. but it's nice to feel like everyone at the table understands my vocabulary. it's nice to not have thomas/todd/jeff calling me the human dictionary. to be surrounded by intelligent, funny people is really a blessing. sometimes capital felt kind of bleak, everyone struggling to survive - most of the kids weren't very "carefree". and sarahlawrence (doesn't it seem like one word?) is about fakery and seeming more intelligent than you actually are. the boys, the honest, dorky boys, are refreshing.

and ed. ed is the highest ranking male in my life, after my father. i'm a daddy's girl, i admit it. poor ed, i feel like i put him through so much ranting and whining. my life is ruled by women - mana, sarah and emily being my go-to girls when anything happens to me - but ed ranks right up there, and i love him for being so unwavering. i wish i knew how to do better by him. i wish i knew how to return the favor.

swifter, higher, stronger

the olympic motto. "swifter, higher, stronger." i've adopted it - if it's good enough for the olympians, it's good enough for me. reach, sarah, reach. grab opportunities faster. reach higher, beyond your current grasp. think stronger, act stronger, be stronger. you are strong. life is yours to grab and suck the enjoyment out of. make it yours. use it. no one's in charge here but you. kick the shit out of this year.

my blog absenteeism

first of all, absenteeism is a word. i checked. second of all, i forgot my blog password. emily and i are definitely related. and i WILL be posting more often because A) i don't feel dorky enough, and B) i changed my password. oh, and i want to blend in with ed, emily, and thomas. beyond that, i'd like to mention that i feel my summer has been a bit of a roller coaster and it is somewhat unfair that it ends so soon. and goats. on behalf of mana and jess, goats. oh, and ed and thomas, but that's a different goat reference. and i can't figure out how to create a new paragraph on this damn thing. and i AM NOT READY to move in one week. oh dear.