May 30, 2004

fruits and my loins

mom woke me up this morning when she stole all of my clothing. everything, but the socks and panties i was already wearing, that is. so when i got out of bed i was left with little option. i dug into my closet for the remnants - the ill-fitting pants and unflattering shirts i did not bring down to college with me. ended up in an old favorite pair of jeans that are too torn to wear about and a lightly stained thinning cotton shirt that was my mum's in the 70's. braless (mum stole them), and i look as adorable as ever. very au natural and girlish. my hair is long in waves down my back, and i've finally figured out what people mean when they say they like it long. it's being lovely just now and i've pledged to not get it cut much shorter anymore. this suits me much better. maybe i'll add a bra to the ensemble tonight if i go out. (or maybe pants with an ass and unventilated knees.) the laundry is done by now, so i at least have all that back.

i had a cherimoya today, mmmm... green fruit, tropical. looks rather foreboding - has scaly impresses all over its tough-looking green skin. in reality, the skin can be pierced with a butter-knife or even a spoon. i sat there and for breakfast scooped out the milky white pulp and sucked the curved black seeds. i've been craving one of those for the longest time - haven't had one since i was a kid. delish! it's lovely here, truly. i'm not twanging so much anymore, but i'm not back to normal yet. it's funny, when i'm in la, i don't really notice the change. but it's lovely here. calm, sunny, earth-tones. i want to stay longer, not leave tomorrow, fully recover. i'll be back soon enough, though. another month of school, then i'm out.

speaking of that, though, i've been asked out - sort of - by two different guys within a week. either my luck is changing, or the universe is setting me up for another fall. perhaps this is just redress for jim. there almost seems no point, though, with the time constraints. number on one is the guy from art history who it seems i have intrigued. i think his curiosity finally got the best of him -hee! poor boy, though, took me off guard and i'm afraid i pulled a karsten on him. or rather, i pulled the same thing on him as i did with karsten. "i'm really busy right now and i'm not sure what my upcoming schedule will be, so why don't i get back to you when i get the chance." oops. i'm going to hell. boy only asked to lunch, so perhaps i will take him up on that - he seems pretty harmless and i can probably put him off with my personality (no effort at all). i mean - it's been working wonders so far.

guy number two contacted me through the onion. cute enough in his pict, interesting enough online. not trying so obviously hard as the other one. lives in la, goes to cal, so we're pretty much geographically switched. 20, rhetoric major (oh dear, how many zen and the art references will i make before i get him to snap), good name: morgan, offered to take me on a tour of la. any way you fold it, it seems i have something to keep me occupied until finals.

this weekend has been the weekend of foreign language films. yes, i know, this could get pretentious, but i assure you, it's not...yet. i downloaded run lola run during the week and watched it friday in the airport. the effect was rather ruined by the musak playing just a bit too loud over the terminal. excellent movie, very good. loved the red-filtered post-coital smoking in bed scene, not quite what you'd expect, but i loved the air of humor in the dialogue, and i loved the way they dealt with the alternate realities.

next, was y tu mama tambien, which i watched with my family, all sitting around on a saturday night like a perfect, wholesome sitcom family, the cleavers. except we weren't watching the heartwarming it's a wonderful life, we were watching the sexual experimentation of two adolescents as they traveled across the mexican countryside. oh dear. actually, the movie was quite good, though i don't feel it lived up to all the hype i've heard. it even made the "favorite sex scene" entry in many of the onion personals i've read, which prompts me to wonder, which sex scene were they referring to? the quick half-dressed pre-flight screw at the beginning of the movie? the pair of awkward adolescent/older woman "prematurely" terminated tenures? or perhaps the boys' first three-way... with each other? so much gold in the coffers to choose from. kat points out that there really isn't much in the way of competition, and i'd have to agree. any of these scenes was nakeder than just about anything i've seen in an american-made r-rated movie, however, i can't say my foray into film has really run along those lines, so i'm not the best judge.

personally, i much preferred sex and lucia, another spanish-language film that i picked up. i remembered seeing the cover art before and was intrigued, so i grabbed it on a whim, but it turns out to be my favorite of the three, i think. actually, i would need to watch them all again to form a more definitive decision, preferably without my folks there spoiling my mood by calling out things like, "wow, she's really a slut!" or "haha, they're maricos!" (not so much awkward as mildly irritating) actually, sex and lucia brought me close to tears (not very close, i'm really a cold-hearted bitch sometimes, but close enough), so highest marks for that one!

saw so many beautiful naked spanish women this weekend, though, that i should be developing a compley any time now. actually, i think it had to be more confidence-inspiring than anything and all these women were super-gorgeous. so maybe one of these days i'll grow a spine. at the very least, i have some new excellent movies to put on the list of eventual dvd purchases. peace out, all!

May 28, 2004

the sheets of my innocence

so i have made it through the week, more or less intact (mental cohesion up for debate) and at last i am back home. after la, or perhaps just after the strain of the past few days, i feel as if i'm vibrating at a higher frequency than this place. somehow, i don't quite feel the calm serenity that i had hoped would wash over me like a soothing wave as soon as i arrived back in the familiar arms of the bay. perhaps my expectations were too high? perhaps i'm still too amped up, especially after this afternoon (midterm horrible, chem lab forever, packing frantic, atm out of money, airport wait long, 6pm breakfast overpriced), to settle in. but i feel this weird inner charge that doesn't quite gel with my surroundings (i'm ionic, they're nonpolar! chem has destroyed my mind...). it's like like my smooth edges are starting to harden out and i'm not quite the right shape peg to fit into this round hole. (dirty)

driving back, the streets were almost entirely empty and the night was dark and quiet and serene and i was still a bit jittery on the inside thinking, "what is wrong? i'm home. be happy." as soon as i got back to the house and onto firm land i hugged mommy long and tight. it was a little squishy and very comforting and oh so familiar down to the smell and i relaxed a bit. then i hugged dad - i had to stand on tip-toes to reach, still, and it was harder and a bit more uncomfortable, but in its way still home. he said he was proud of me and i laughed and went to get a glass of water. yeah, still a bit awkward, that. so we've been sitting around talking and doing the usual. i had my laptop open and played kol for most of it (bad girl) and showed them the pictures i took of the campus and the gorgeous purple trees and told them about my classes and my horrid (former) lab partner (the story doesn't die - today he stole my lab stool).

it rained here this morning, it seems to always rain here just before i arrive even if its been nice for weeks beforehand. in dread? cleaning everything off everything all nice for my visit? wind excited at the return of an old friend? (when i was younger i would talk to the wind. it was my special friend. long after i ceased having imaginary friends [2], i would imagine conversations with the wind. not anything big, just my worries and things. you may think "psychotic," i think it's sweet.) so now the parents have gone to bed and i'm shortly going to do the same (before 2am, you ask? shocking!) there's a rather good-sized spindly spider playing around here right now and for all i know, he's crawling up and down my back as i lie here. aaah, serenity.

i partly dread going back into my room to sleep on the sheets of my childhood. really, some time since i moved to la, mother replaced all my bedding with the stuff i used when i was in grade school. it's really a bit shocking. there's nothing wrong with the sheets per-se, the pattern is completely innocuous, i just feel a bit too old and worn (soiled? spoiled?) to be sleeping in them. big bad dirty carla. but the rest of my room is as i left it, piles of books everywhere, walls cluttered with my own montage take of pop culture, etc. the only other major difference is the giant pile of mail i have to sort through at the bottom of my bed, but somewhere therein lies my tax refund. (incentive!) $60 to convert into small bills and then fling into the air, scatter on the floor, and roll over in a horribly hedonistic manner, giggling.

i don't know exactly what i'm going to be doing this weekend. most of my old friends are home, it seems, only i've forgotten who my old friends are...hmm. kat's coming up, too, and dad mentioned something about an air show. sure, dad! eh. i'd go just to please him, for all of that. we never do anything together. but maybe the airplanes...will...be...cool. huh. oh well. if you have ideas, call me, i guess. off i go to bed on the sheets of my innocence. i rather like the way that sounds...

May 26, 2004

guilty admissions

i'm going home on friday and i've been thinking about my parents.

how i love my mom more than my dad. she is always so accepting and supportive. more affectionate, physically and more emotionally available. it's kind of a mean thing to say, i guess, but it's true.

thing is, i want my father's approval so badly sometimes. growing up, i almost never got that sort of "good job," "i'm really proud of you," "you're such a perfect little daughter" approval from him. i was almost more of a burden than anything. we'd bicker a lot, and he'd grumble about driving me places, and to a lesser degree how much i was costing him. of course he's a loving father, he just never really showed it. at one point senior year i pissed him off (financially) to the point that he yelled, "you really disappoint me, carla." my response was silence and when he left, i laughed bitterly. i know he didn't mean that in general or anything, it was just because i was shirking what he felt was my duty to the family. the wry laughter was because i was essentially the perfect daughter. no drinking, drugs, smoking, stuck to curfew, didn't go around with boys, growing up i obeyed all their terribly overprotective little boundaries, got good grades, worked almost obsessively to earn ca$h for college, ate right, didn't dress sluttily, blah blah blah. a couple of times, in recent years/months, especially, he's told me that he's proud of me and all that and that he knows he never really said it much, and i know it's heartfelt, but it always seems a bit hollow, i guess. i don't doubt the sincerity, not at all. i don't know if it's a case of "too little, too late," or what. i think it just seems kinda of strained and cheesy whenever he says crap like that, because it doesn't come naturally to him. not like mum, who doesn't need to say it, because she shows it in little gestures every day. at the same time, i really want that sort of relationship with him where he gives me hugs and listens to my little stories and all of that.

when i sent the essay about kim to my mum, i felt bad that i wasn't showing it to him, too. and when he asked to see it, i got terribly worried about what he'd think. i had already confided much of its content to my mother, but he knew next to nothing. not my childhood insecurities, nothing, really. but that's the way it is. i confide things in my mom because i'm not worried about her reaction, not to the same degree, anyway, that i worry about my dad. haven't told him my porn solicitation story, for example, and i don't know if i ever will. he wouldn't respond badly, per-se, but it'd freak him out a little. besides, i doubt it would ever really come up. i remember, the only time growing up my dad and i would really talk was when we were having these really long, intense discussions and arguments. mostly political or philosophical. i would always snap into these very eloquent moods whenever that happened and structure rebuttals and such. thinking back on it, it's hilarious, a little 6th grader sharing philosophical points with her father. not that either of us were - are - very sophisticatedly read or anything, it's not as if we were quoting nietzsche, we just have always had very different world views.

what's weird and not entirely related to what i've been talking about here, is the freudian concept that the first person you sexualize growing up is the parent of the opposite gender. never really thought about that until some time in middle school. i realized i thought it was pretty sexy guys who wore necklaces. that was rather before the whole surfer boy leather cord hemp rope thing came into vogue. then i suddenly realized that when i was little, very little, my dad used to wear a gold chain. he stopped wearing it when it broke (did i break it?). the revelation creeped me out so much i almost clawed my skin off. needless to say, once i figured that out, it killed any appeal the former had had. i don't want to marry a man like my father. he's not a bad person, of course not, and i never meant to say i don't love him terribly, but he's not the kind of person i want to end up with. i'm hoping for someone more grounded and stable and comfortable with himself. daddy's just not really those things. he's someone who once had a sense of humor, but lost a lot of it on the way. his idealism, too. he's got a bit of a world-weary air about him. haha, it seems almost a betrayal to not want to marry someone like your dad, despite the intense creepiness in saying you want someone just like him.

i guess, what i want is an easy and natural relationship with my father. i just want him to accept me. i think, for many years i kind of shied away from any relationship with him because he was the growling angry man who didn't say enough nice things to me so much as bellow and moan. it was almost a punishment. if you're going to yell at me all the time, you don't get to know how my day went. i've never doubted that he loves me. when i was still quite young i'd feel guilty about growing up, that my parents were sad that i was getting bigger so fast. my dad, especially. i think he should have done a better job at making that okay. i still get a bit that way when i think about getting my own apartment and all of that. i know he worries. i just wish he could also talk to me normally. but everybody's got a bit of a fucked-up family, right? i think i'm still much better off than most.

head stabbey

i'm in the middle of a paper and i'm just desperate for things to distract me. it has been very disappointing, actually. usually when i'm quite dedicated to something, people always come to me with fun things to do, stupid demands, and obnoxious problems. today, nothing. i'm painfully free to work on my paper, and after that my cpr assignment for my chem lab, and after that study for my chem midterm. and every cell in my stupid, stupid body wants to do something else. i want to watch a movie, i want to laugh and play, i want to go for a run. i hate running! and there's no one around to distract me. beyond that, i'm too principled to just sit down and dedicatedly slack. no, i must find a thousand tiny things to interrupt me. i could have downloaded and watched a movie and then gone back to work, sated, but no. of course that would be bad, so i merely sit here and look for apartment furnishings online. and now i'm blogging, deliberate dodge, anyone? i only have a fucking half page to go. this is so sad.

May 25, 2004

all lies

carla at 3 am:
you can tell it's late at night because i've begun telling strange stories...
ever hear the one about the one-armed woodsman?
well, he came to la to make it big in the pictures, but found himself typecast in every roll, so, of course, he became quite irate and decided to exact his wrath on studio execs and budding young starlets, but he found he had a taste for killing and needless to say...he's standing right behind you!!!

rexy's friend dave, who i have never met:
he kind of looks like a tv

carla again:
he's a woodsman. he knows camouflage

dave:
but ill keep my eye on him

carla:
don't blink. and he smells fear.

dave:
oh man, im toast
so much for sleep

carla:
he says it has a similar odor to chili-cheese fries.
you could always lull him with a romantic comedy screenplay. or food. haagis is good. he likes ratatouille. but no chili cheese fries, that'd be just stupid.

dave:
that was a well thought out response
ill try to lure him with the sweet smell of bacon

carla:
atta boy. good plan.


this cautionary tale was brought to you by: chem, sleep deprivation, and the number 3

May 24, 2004

prodigious portents

(the archaic meaning is ominous)

horoscope last week:
scorpio (Oct. 24th-Nov. 22nd)
Hell-O? Someone has been flirting their ass off with you! You may believe it's just a friendly gesture. You may also believe in the Easter Bunny.

true.

horoscope this week:
scorpio (Oct. 24th-Nov. 22nd)
We know you think it's sexy to get all "Dangerous Liaisons" on someone's ass, but the only thing it's going to do is bite you in the ass. Stop with all the manipulations for selfish sexual personal gain and go volunteer at your community center or something.

oh dear.

em and lo horoscope

May 23, 2004

music and muscle (no, that has nothing to do with anything)

i woke up in the morning (1:20, 1:30. 2:00) to three rings of my alarm clock: (2) american jesus - bad religion, (1) closer - nin. now, sitting on my bed, trying to build up the willpower to get up, i can hear "i, i just died in your arms tonight, musta been something ya said..." faint and grainy across the courtyard. i just realized that i'm a lot more busy this week than i had originally expected. i have to research and write 4 pages of an 8-page paper by wednesday, do a both a postlab and a prelab by friday, and cram for a midterm (same day). i also have a friend from home visiting today and another visiting early in the week, both of whom i have to entertain, or else be considered a horrible host. have to call the parents, as well, and some time in there, pack. yuck yuck yuck. i need someone to sit in the room while i do all this and read or something, quietly not distracting me and entertaining me at intervals. alright, by now, i've showered, dressed, and typed up and sent out my portion of the lab data. i must brush my hair, call suegol and see what she's up to and possibly entertain her. i should probably also wake up kat, seeing as i should have done that 2 hours ago for breakfast (i am her weekend alarm clock) and then start work on researching my essay (or hanging out with suegol). and then i really need to start studying for chem midterm. and i havn't even mentioned food yet... if it weren't for the siren cry of my computer, video games, books, movies, and friends, this would all be so easy. alright, time to get crackin'.

May 20, 2004

disney wet dreams

ugh, so today is so horribly sore. ("rough sex?" matt asks. ugh, don't tease.) the result of prolonged racquetball exposure after months of inactivity. so why the sudden spurt of physical activity? *sigh* i need some sort of outlet for my extra energy. in other words, to quote the brilliant british show coupling, "i'm just gaggin' for a shag," and i have been for the past couple of days. the evidence that it's spring just keeps adding up in massive heaps. i went out today with kat's camera and took photos of the gorgeous purple trees spotting the campus right now. it is so lovely to see the vibrant purple flowers randomly around, forming wonderful contrast with all the tan and pink buildings and the green green trees and grass. i think i'm going to paint one of the scenes i took in the sculpture garden. pity, but north campus just rocks south campus in terms of aesthetics. (who's surprised?) i'm actually a bit excited about this. so rarely have i indulged my artistic side of late, at least not in a legitimate high-brow manner; it's all been computer painting for me, nice, but not exactly satisfying.

about this sore thing, i just keep thinking over and over, "i just want a giant man to take a rolling pin and roll me flat like dough and then knead me like bread with thick square fingers until i'm all soft and squishy and leave me in a warm dish, covered with a towel, to rise back up again." with that is the mental image of the giant from the disney version of jack and the beanstalk yelling "fe fi fo fum...i'll grind his bones to make me bread!" and mickey and palls being reduced to powder by a giant's rolling pin. aaaah, that would be nice. i like how i can effortlessly merge sexual imagery with movies from my childhood. now that's moxious!

at least the good that the racquetball has done, has not been to reduce my sexual energy (poo), has at least made me physically less desirous right now. it's hard to feel vampy when you ache in the arms, ass, thighs, shoulders, and back. got a lovely (non-sexual, you perv) massage from kat, but it unfortunately, its effects have not lasted.



i found the quote i referred to yesterday from naked lunch. i read that and just shuddered. such a great line (the second sentence, i included the first so you'd understand what the hell burroughs 's talking about).

"senators leap and bray over the death penalty with inflexible authority of virus yen....death for dope fiends, death for sex queens (i mean fiends) death for the psychopath who offends the cowed and graceless flesh with broken animal innocence of lithe movement...

"the black wind sock of death undulates over the land, feeling, smelling for the crime of separate life, movers of the fear-frozen flesh shivering under a vast probability curve...."


well, that's been my day, peace all.

May 19, 2004

fish frenzied

let me tell you about the aquarium; i love the aquarium. my feelings for it are half nostalgia, half eager enthusiasm. the aquarium has to be my favorite place on earth.

the deep water tank is a place of such extreme serenity. even with screaming children and visitors abounding, it is a center of calm. the glass, reaching floor to ceiling in a giant wall, with only soft blue light playing through the water, and the plush seating. and the creatures are amazing. the majestic sea turtle that swims just at the waterline, surveying all, making large sweeping circles around the tank, passing by the glass regularly, like clockwork. the comical sunfish, with its unfortunately shaped fins, swimming with incredible grace considering its shape. the two prowling hammerheads, roving the bottom of the tank, far below. and the teams of manic gleaming tuna and barracuda and others, flashing and catching the light yellow and blue on their scales. every time i'm there i want to sit in someone's arms quietly and just watch them all glide and dart about, silent and detached.

even more zen is the jellyfish exhibit. there is a short hallway-like alcove, both sides of which are tanks, and with mirrors at both ends, so that standing in between, it looks like you are surrounded by an eternity of jellies, fore and aft, wafting through the water. it is perfect to sit quietly on the floor, watching them bob up and down, hundreds of moon jellies, glowing yellow and white and purple on a blue background. all i ever want to do on my visit is sit cross-legged, obscuring the paths of strollers and families, and draw the luminous scene.

the most amazing time i had there was on a visit with kim. it wasn't too crowded that day and we were standing in front of the bat ray petting tank. it is this large, low pool, half of which is accessible to the general public who shove in their arms, elbow-deep, in the salty water in the hope that their fingertips will brush by a ray. the rays, on the other hand, remain huddled at the far end of the pool, bumping up against the wall and flailing their wings, either scraping the walls with their rasp-like teeth, or else futilely attempting to flop out. every so often one of these creatures will make a wide circuit of the pool, just out of reach of the probing fingers, and back to the safety of the far wall. whenever a hand does touch ray skin, a cry of, "eew, cool!" can be heard. batray skin feels like wet suede or chammy material, not slimy and pleasantly firm. the time kim and i visited, however, one ray made its circuit and stopped just in front of me, bumping its head out of the water with slow, deliberate strokes of its wings. it stayed that way for close to a minute, allowing me to pet it at my leisure. i rubbed my knuckles along its head gently as if it were a cat, and stroked its back and wings. the ray made another sweep of the pool and returned to me for a while longer. i would like to believe that we forged some sort of species barrier-transcending connection. more likely, however, is that it found a spot of particularly tasty algae there, or hoped, perhaps, i would set it free.

i am just about sick to visit the aquarium. i would love to spend an afternoon with the fish, wandering around the shops on cannery row, lovely lunch on freshly-caught seafood. they've opened up a new shark, skate, and ray (oh my!) exhibit, that i have yet to visit. i love to marvel at those animals and i would like to think that it is adorable when i inevitably cry out "oh, i love him!" "and him!" "oooh, look at that one, i love him, too!" i'm talking about the fish, of course.

day lessons

things i have learned just waking up:

living mindfully is a lot more difficult than one would think. i woke up today late for class, and instead of greeting the day with a half-smile and wishes for an enlightened world, i yelled, "fuck!" and then searched desperately for my pants, remembering to half-smile for a split-second before i bolted into the bathroom to relieve myself. on the walk down to class it was no better. in an attempt to regain mindfullness, i spent the walk to class attentive of my breath. inhale: four steps, exhale: four steps. walking down to north campus along charles e. young, however, what i was inhaling and exhaling was a delicate mixture of tar and exhaust.

greg says all guys are sleazy. not sleazy as in check out every girl in sight, but sleazy as in don't really have great self-control. sex...drive...overpowering...must...fuck...or...perish. need yellow sun!!! i've never been one to really buy into that sort of bullshit, and i still can't give it that much credit. *sigh* i really don't want to become jaded...


things i have learned just falling asleep:

my best haikus are written when i have no hope of remembering them, just as i am drifting off to oblivion. but isn't everything that way?

blaize and jim's room is where time goes to die. so many times have i gone in there intending on staying for just a short while and gotten roped into remaining until 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, even 6 am.

i'm not good with secrets. i have this stupid need to say every single little thought in my head to whoever happens to be around. vonnegut mentions this singularly human malady in...breakfast of champions, i think. but i need to develop some guile and pronto. how many more times in my life is my arbitrary honesty going to get me into trouble. fortunately for me, kat can be trusted to keep my secrets, even when i don't...


things i have thought of in between:

"it was a cold night that smelt of burnt cotton candy..."

excellent weekends capped of with mediocre sundays are nonetheless a bit disappointing, silly silly me. friday was literature, good music, frat party (you can read for yourself). saturday was breakfast, swim, perfect shower, cpk dinner, last unicorn, coffee, hero. and then sunday was nothing at all. disappointing.

it is definitely spring. the evidence keeps mounting, from heightened party flirtations, to random approaches on the street, to new internet friends (kat got a good one, mine's something of an ineloquent dud), and ill-advised flirtations. goodness, with all the recent attention, i should be extremely ballsey soon, but there seems no point, really. going home soon.

i would quote you the most excellent line from naked lunch, but that must wait until i fetch my book back from a friend's room.




all in all...i guess i'm a bit wiser, and if not, well, hell, i'm sure the important lessons will all be beat into me by the time i die.

May 16, 2004

6

a few notes:

a clarification on dancing. dancing with a bad partner is like dancing alone - you concentrate in the swing of your own hips and smile that secret smile. masturbation at it's sneakiest. dancing with a good partner is a whole different animal, however. i am not going to do the cheesy and liken it to sex, rather it is like a good instrument. appreciated in the observing and in the playing. the smiles are broad and toothy.

it is spring! i know that the vernal equinox hit a while ago, and living in la one does not so much see a change in seasons as a change in wardrobe, but let me say that this is the time of year when a young man's fancy turns to love...or at least turns heads. kat and i both have observed this phenomenon, the increasing frequency of getting hit on with the new season. both have online interests (interested in us, rather than the correlation), have gotten randomly hit on on the street, and i shan't get into the party. we've decided that the true test will be to see whether we garner added attention in class. monday our hypothesis is put to the test.

my roommate has stopped telling me things altogether. i asked her on friday whether she intended on going home this weekend and she said no. yet she hasn't returned to the room since late friday afternoon.

i would give a toe to be able to write prose as well as william s. burroughs. i'd prefer to be able to choose which, however. and i'd like it to be surgically removed in a sterile environment with copious anesthetics. how's that for suffering for your art? eh eh? actually it would be candy to have the skillful prose of william s. burroughs, the brilliant thematic shifts of kurt vonnegut, and the playful satiric turns of terry preatchett. yeah, i try so hard, don't i?

the second i ever want to vacuum my room, all the vacuums in the building simultaneously break. it's as if the hair imbedded in my carpet has formed a massive conspiracy...death before filters!

my jealousy is a rare beast. once roused, it takes a while to subside, but it is never consistent. oh well, it can be subdued with ice cream and salty foods.

May 15, 2004

if the grinch stole my mind...

step one: it should be noted that i am drunk. dizzy drunk. if i move too fast i'll tip over drunk. but my brain function is unimpeded, yay!

i have jasmine and a fake flower of some sort at my temple, my hair is held back in chopsticks, i have on a white tank top, hot pink bra, and primary-color sarong i got in venezuela. the theme tonight is "tropical."

if you haven't guess by now, i just got back from a frat party and let me tell you, what a night. kat got back late from her little date, so it was 1 before we are actually able to head out the door, two shots, each, under out belts for warmth and moral support, we get down to strathmore (and it's a miracle that i remember the street name at all), and i feel fine, but as we keep walking i become more and more inebriated until i'm staggering around a bit. alcohol takes effect. kat and i are both a bit out of it (i attribute it to a small dinner) and making jokes about mario world (very enthusiastic) and looney tunes ("you take the low road...") and getting eyed by guys on the street. the cops, however, severe buzzkill, have landfair blocked off in the direction we want to go. "turn around, ladies. what part of turn around did you not understand." eesh. slow reaction time - i'm drunk! i get a bit worried, not paranoid mind you, because they have a couple of kids in custody, one arm pinned behind backs and escorted around. so we have to turn around and take a different cross street, which is where the song about irish paths comes along...

so we get there alright, even though the cops do have areas cordoned off, and straightaway are hit on by a burly footballero. he is yucky, touches my ass even before he introduces himself. shake him off, inside then outside again, looking for jim, and we turn around and two guys approach us in a sort of "you're two girls, we're two guys, let us become friends" sort of way. mine was called alex. we chatted. he's a fifth year engineer of some sort - i was a bit hazy then so the details escape me - and thought it was so novel that i am a green little first year, condescending twip. back inside, still trying to find jim, and on the dance floor. i'm approached by a white boy with an unnervingly steady smile. i mean seriously, this guy could be in a mentodent commercial. oh, wait, i don't know if mentodent is a real product or if it's just a mint/breath freshener/toothpaste-type product that exists only in my head. (cross between mentos and trident, mayhaps?)

so toothy asks me to dance and we do, kat goes off somewhere or another and i am left with this guy for 3 songs or so. not bad looking and not extremely interesting. in fact, he never did introduce himself or ask my name. so we dance and it seems he does not understand the concept of anything other than 2/4 time and his moves reflect that. it's all side-to-side and in a circle with a half-boner poking me in the hip. flattering, actually, though inside i'm laughing at the irony. little does mentodent know that i'm on my period and haven't shaved my legs for a month. pity that even drunk, i'm still myself because i'm sure i had a wry smile on my lips the entire time, and at one point i nearly dissolved into giggles. lucky for him he was behind me and couldn't see the expression on my face, or else it would have completely destroyed his illusion of conquest. slightly unnerving was how every time i look up, i see the exact same smile on toothy's face, unwavering! at least this guy isn't too gropey, although i do find at one point i have to re-adjust my skirt so it falls right, though that was more the effect of friction. hell, for most of the dancing, this guy is holding one of my hands (sweet).

i make an excuse to get away from mentodent guy (who kisses the side of my head as i go. sweet.) and find kat, who is chatting up some boy. between rotations with toothy, i caught glimpses of her exhibiting-bad-dancing boy and i laughed at the sight of them. go to say hi and he says something about me getting my grind on. well, i'm a shameless dancer, i guess, or rather, so long as my partner does not try to grope my azores, or new zeland, i will put up with almost anything. even bad rhythm.

for me, dancing is simply an exercise in self-glorification. the movement of the hands and the hips - it's all about my own center and my own movement. i don't so much care about what my partner does as long as i am moving.

shortly thereafter i am asked to dance by a diminutive hispanic, peter, and i accept. as bad a dancer as the other was, this one has skill. he spins me, dips me, and does intricate cross-over hand things. it was like swing dancing again, but for the one-two-rock-stop. i am so pleased i laugh out loud and he is impressed that i follow his lead. i guess most girls aren't used to fancy dance (non-grind). we ballroom dance to ac/dc, lovely! haha! it is an excellent thing to dance with a competent partner, and even better with someone who can tear it up.

over the course of the evening, and we were at the party for what had to have been less than an hour, i become acquainted with at least half a dozen more boys whose names i do not catch. we do finally find jim and masha, kat gets a number, and we leave at last. on the way out peter calls "ciao!" at me and i laugh again. not attractive, but seriously fun. we stagger back to the rooms, tired, but loquacious as ever, and i return to my place to chat and blog the events of the night. a frat party that went severely well, i am pleased!

upon returning, i am imed from several directions, and in my compromised state make friendly with people, nearly falling back on my bed at every slightest violent head movement. kenny, the art histroy classmate i have never met in person "wants to get to know me better" and rexy talks about himself, then apologizes. kat goes to bed early. i listen to pink floyd for the first time in months. i have to say, this was an excellent evening, and if my head did not grow three sizes this night (recognize the reference?...hint: it's in the title), then i'll be very impressed. if only the rest of the weekend goes as well! (although it is almost certain to, as i got my books in the mail and will have excellent literature to keep me entertained if human contact fails to impress.) it's 4 am, and time for bed, but i wish all the best. goodnight!

May 13, 2004

nihilism

ugh, this has been a mildly upsetting week. just a bit off in general. (okay at first that last sentence was entered "lust a bit off in general" and that actually seems horribly apropos.) if something does not go well very soon i very well might snap. don't worry, you won't notice. none of this is to say that i'm not happy, but something has been a bit...skewed. okay, chau is watching jessica simpson sing on the ryan seacrest show. it is time for me to leave.

May 09, 2004

procrastination and provocation

i have been sorely slacking all weekend, damn it! friday i had my o-chem midterm, which i kicked! (i think) that night, i figured i'd take a break from all the piss and shit of studying, so i holed myself up in my room playing mortal kombat 3, watching h.r. puffinstuff, and laughing my ass off. saturday was supposed to be hardcore study time, but i spent the entire day, books open in my lap and strewn on my bed, watching cyborg movies. i am full of shame. i prepared 1 question for art history and then went over to jim's to watch stargate till almost 6 am. ugh! not how i intended that night to go.

i never quite get jim. he treats all girls except his girlfriend pretty much like younger sisters, as far as i can tell. when you're together it's all abuse: objects flying across the room at your head, picked up put down, tickled, and hair ruffled. but then it's also him sitting on you, laying on you, side-by-side, legs on top, arms underneath, head resting. purely innocent and straightforward, of course. but when the girlfriend is around you are studiously ignored. making the rest of it seem slightly illicit. goodness, he gave me a raspberry! me pinned down, stubble tickling my belly, indignant squeal. one: haven't had that happen since i was like 7, two: faint memories of my father's mustache, three: excuse for contact? weird inconstant things. reminder of some time last week and we were fighting/wrestling in kat's room (again purely innocent, to my mild disappointment, of course. i would like a good dirty wrassle, though not necessarily with jim.) and suddenly he stops, and spends the next 5 minutes sitting back across from me, closed book held up like a shield between us and weird pensive look on his face. kat asked later, joking, "what, did you two share a moment?" me: "not as far as i can tell."

all-in-all i don't know whether i should be mildly weirded out, worried, cool with it, or what. i mean, yeah, duh, everything is pretty much sibling-y but i don't know him well enough to have that sort of affection (or tolerance) for him. basically the weird thing about all this is, i don't know how to be treated as that, so it's strange to me. eesh. rest assured, i'm not crushing on him, i have better sense than that, certaintly, and i'm not sure i'm even attracted to him. i'm getting that the entire reason for our friendship is for me to become more comfortable with people.

still, with him lying on my ribcage, all i could think was "i kinda wish my boobs were bigger." more like adopted siblings, i think.

May 06, 2004

vile sow

so once again, i was slated to meet with my horrid, vile lab partner today, at "the same time as thursday." 3:00. 3, you vile imbecile, 3!!!

so i'm in class, waiting for the ta to hand back a paper and at 2:50, i hear, "vrrrrrrrrrt! vrrrrrrrrrrrrt!" my phone vibrates in my pack. the vibrations cease, then a quick "zzt! zzt!" indicates i have recieved a viocemail. i clutch my quaking bag to my chest, thinking, shit! i know exactly who it is. i am positive. i would bet money on it. my hands shake and blood boils. i have been called by my lab partner. 10 minutes early.

i get my paper back and then out in the hall, to check my messages, and this is what i was left.
"hi, carla, this is john. i'm in covel waiting for you, um if you don't want to meet, i have some studying to do. i'm going to wait here for another 10 minutes, but after that i'm going to go home and we can do the lab on the phone or something."

aaaaaaaaargh!!!!

the second i hang up, my phone rings again. it's john, my lab partner, who wants to go home that he may study. so i, walking back from class, need to stop in the middle of a big ol' grassy area and pull out my notebooks and papers and write down the info i still need over the phone to write our conclusion. papers flying in the breeze, on my knees on a muddy grassy hill. so now i have to write the conclusion on my own or else get blamed for not pulling my weight, as if i do not have the same midterm to study for.

i want to stab him with a hundred burning pins. a hundred and one!! as if i don't have class and tests and work of my own. as if i should have been there waiting for him. what a dense, solely self-attentive balloon! that ass! uuuuuaaaaghh!! he deserves to die the death of a thousand herpes!!!

...and then, an hour and a half later, he has the nerve to call and wake me from my nap to give me the last data bit i need...

as if he couldn't have just e-mailed.

May 04, 2004

feminine wiles for evil

so this weekend was full of drama. drama not my fault. there was a drug bust, a missing person, and a reconciliation. kim and i, it seems, are friends again, and i don't know how. she calls for closure, the conversation starts all angry and hurt on her side and not apologetic on mine. she says i don't have to bother being her friend anymore, and then, somehow, we end up having a normal, though halting, conversation. before we hang up she says she'll call me again. i am really confused.

so i woke up today at 2, having skipped art history, to answer my ringing ringing phone. 'twas my mummy. whatever. i do my morning websurf and then shower, to clean my grimy oily hair and my sticky sweaty body. so nice to be cool and clean! i have to meet my horrid lab partner at 3, so i shower kind of quickly, worried i'll be late. just as i am stepping out of the shower at about 2:47, my phone rings. i go to pick it up and it's labpartner. "hello carla? it's john. um, i'm in the covel lobby right now."
me: "(deadpan and dripping) okay."
him: "where are you?"
me: "my room." (so obvious.)
him: "okaaay..." (as in "okaaaay, why are you there, you should be here.)
me: "we're supposed to meet at 3, right?"
him: "yeah."
me: "you're early." (water pouring off of me.)
him: "i get out of class in covel at 2:50."
me: "..." (i'm soaking into the floor)
"well, i'll be down there in 10 or 15 minutes."
him: "alright." (when his voice says that it's obviously not alright i make him wait.)

soo...obviously i should have been down in the covel lobby waiting for him to show up, or i should have shown up promptly as he did. unfortunately, we had agreed to meet at 3, and 3 was when i had planned on showing up. so why was i not there early? because the world does not revolve around your secret little plans, you scab!! aaagh!! i seriously dislike this guy.

so, i showed up 5 minutes late, dressed all pretty, my freshly-washed hair down in curls around my shoulders, and a smile and a sweet, "i'm sorry i'm late, but you called just as i was stepping out of the shower." (chew on that! hahahaha!) we got a little done before it came out that neither of us had the revised protocol, whereupon i promptly suggested that we disband and meet again on thursday to finish, protocol procured. (partly to get the hell out of there, partly because i know we're missing a lot of info without it, and partly because it's less convenient for him.) so i suggest we each do the separate parts on our own and convene on thurs to do the conclusion, give him my screenname, over which he puzzles. m-r-locks-stole-m-y-b-b-y? and i smile and, without explanation, flounce off, calling behind me, "bye!" (sadistic grin.)

suddenly, i don't feel like so much of a child anymore. i have learned how to use my feminine wiles for evil, evil, not good! it's only taken me 19 years to figure out how to do so, too! and all it took was one truly obnoxious guy to spur me on, one guy that i wanted to torture and dominate (not in a sex way, no, ew, but rather in a power way), to bring out the evil in me. buahaha, yay!

May 03, 2004

little girl days

I have begun regressing back into childhood. i am a twelve-year-old girl. i am an awkward preteen making moon eyes at older boys. i am your tomboy younger sister. i am every sad round-faced little girl who just wants to be grown-up and glamorous and slick. i am a wide-eyed cupie doll in a little pink ruffled frock.

fuck this all. i don't know what the problem is. increasingly i feel like some child. some awkward, chubby, geeky little thing who no one quite likes. shit! i am regressing. i'm nearly 20 and i'm back in the mindframe of my 12-year-old self. not entirely, though. i'm some bizarre hybrid of myself at different ages. i don't like this, obviously not. i grew out of this shit years ago.

it doesn't help that jim keeps getting me in a headlock. he did it twice today! stupid boy. now i really feel 12.