December 06, 2004

title of some sort

the longer i go without update, generally the more i have to say. by that logic, i now have assloads and assloads of stories to share with all of you (you three people, you), unfortunately, i have, as is also rather typical, forgotten it all.

it has been lovely and raining ever since some time last night. i went over to amy and elissa's around midnight to borrow some movies and got caught in a bit of the storm. light drizzle, whatever. it's been getting really cold here at night, so you might imagine that being then rained on would have been unpleasant. but no. it was lovely. i left the apartment and squealed as soon as the weather hit me. walking back to my place, i had my arms folded and i was grinning. i may have frolicked slightly, my memory fades. with the rain has come a bit of wind, making the wind chimes tinkle out little tunes. amazingly, it seems roosh is a bit scared of the wind chimes. evidently she cannot sleep here alone for fear of the sinister...chiming.

we saw something friday night that would really have terrified her, had she been there. kat, amy, elissa, and i went to a nihilist film festival. many short films of varying appeal and quality. most of them seemed pretty uber-low-budget and sitting front row right under the projection screen, i had a bit of trouble with the grainy quality. they ranged in length from about a minute and a half to twenty-five, give or take. some of them really reminded me of the type of shorts you'd see on back three or four years ago before it hit the big time and stopped using its bandwidth to host interesting flash and short film contributions from independent studios. there was a very trippy stop-motion animation that was much longer than i could really stand, for being a completely random and sometimes horrific show. it had a couple of good scenes, but the majority of it was just not visually stimulating enough, in my opinion, to warrant my attention for so long. halfway through kat whispered to me, "i wish we had convinced roosh to come, she'd be so scared." there was a very odd indian film about a serial killer, a journalist, and eunuchs. the best line - "i'll be your mother and you can blame me for everything." i suppose it was sort of a reflection on the old adage "between a rock and a hard place, though in this case, the man was caught between the eunuchs who wanted to make him one of them, and the killer, who wanted him to write for his new television station. this, i think might have been better appreciated had it been a cleaner copy, shown from a decent distance and at a more favorable angle. There was also a lovely film called "pervula," a parody on silent movie horrors, with a more, well, pervy twist. very funny. finally there was a great spanish film about being a revolutionary in little ways. it was very good. clever and more relatable the the rest. much better image quality, too.

don't believe that there is any friction among the roommates, however. our periods have even synced up. i always find it terribly disturbing whenever my cycle matches a close friend's. kat's on birth control, though, so it's not terribly surprising. i'm pretty regular and she just happens to have her off week right around when i'm due. roosh, however, has always been a bit off, but i guess the combined pressure from the two of us has pushed her forward. the period has finally given me a break from the overpowering horniness, unfortunately, the rather, erm, graphic fantasies have been slower to subside. i completely blame postmodern courtesan. stupid...graphic...arg! coming back from the usc game yesterday sadaf and i had a bit of a nap on the bus. she was sitting, with her torso lying on my lap, asleep, and i was propped upright leaning one elbow on her back. also asleep. and i have to admit i wasn't having the most innocent of dreams. i woke up very confused and it took me a full moment to realize i was on a dark schoolbus going north on 405 with a live girl for an afghan. i'm just very glad that i didn't drool as i am occasionally wont to do in my sleep.

so sadaf finally consented to go to the big rival football game with me. there was a bit of equivocation there for a long time - she was terribly reluctant to give up a whole day with finals looming. we did end up going, though, and it was very dramatic and rowdy and tense and loud. some sc fans sent up a blockade in the parking lot, forcing the stream of people going to the stadium into a trickle through the single gap in their lawn chairs, which they stood around, heckling ucla fans. one of them touched me. i was outraged. how dare that dirty man, a stranger, presume to touch me. he grabbed my shoulder, very close to groping me. had i not been completely unseated by all of it, i probably would have shaken him off and flung invectives at him. or kicked him in the shins. as it is, i probably just looked a bit frightened and upset. i hate being yelled at by big groups of people - i'm not good at confrontation. the game was very epic, though, and we did a lot better than anyone ever expected. usc is top rated team in the nation and we only lost by 5, beating the spread, and i think we're not even good enough this year to merit a rating. but there were miscalled fumbles and recoveries and towards the end, the score narrowed dramatically and it appeared we might have a shot, after all, but the tables turned once again and then turned back. it was all very gasp-worthy and i strained my voice shouting from the stands.

speaking of epic, the movie i borrowed from amy last night was the house of flying daggers. (gotta love asian bootlegs). very much in the tradition of crouching tiger and hero. i liked the fact, though, that i actually resisted the mythic quality as best as it could. there were the requisite twists and betrayals, but in the end, while the film made the point that the armies could not care less about their individual warriors, it refused to even reveal what happened in the grand battle that all of the scheming had been intended to bring about. in the end, all the political plots screwed with the lives of 3 small fry, who played integral roles in the final plot, but who individually meant nothing to the leaders of their respective causes. but it was these three that the entire tragedy circled around. and i rather liked the poetry in all that. even though it was terribly sad, as these movies tend to be (see previous titles), i dug the movie, and i ended up needing a hug.

for all that i am frigid ice queen and alternately burning sex-kitten (at least in the head), i've been very cuddly of late. i put in an away message today "i need people all over the apartment, just strewn about randomly, so i can get a hug whenever i want. that way, i could stop pestering my roommates so much." kat understands that i'm just terribly huggy, but i think it might weird roosh out a bit. i don't really care, though. without my mum around for me to maul constantly and demand affection of, i really don't have anyone i can readily pester but them. kat suggested last night as we made nachos at 4 am, that we must build me some sort of mechanical hugging machine. like a giant robotic teddy bear that when squeezed hugs back. i pointed out that that's much too like all those horror films where the special ai robotic friend goes crazy and attacks its special friend. i could imagine walking up to my big plush teddy and giving it a's arms close around me and it gives a squeeze in return. it hugs harder. "let go, teddy," i say. "let go, you're hurting me!" it keeps hugging harder and harder, crushing me under the pressure of it's animatronic bear grip until you hear, one by one, my ribs crack under the pressure and i scream from the pain as broken bone shards pierce my lungs. no, i think i'd rather have a nice skin, muscle, and bone thing to hug. at least those have fleshy bits you can bite, scratch, and stab if they try to hug you to death.

ooh, somehow today i was reminded of my strange childhood crush on beast from the x-men. i used to watch the cartoon. but really, he is something that nears my perfect guy. i mean, there's something so sexy rock and roll about a big, strong bear of a man with a radical dye job. but he has a softer side - he's intellectual, he reads kant and the russian philosophers, he listens to free-form jazz (which i abhor, but i still admit that being able to appreciate it is sexy), he composes poetry about being broody and misunderstood. i'm not a big fan of body hair, but i can make an exception for big, sexy beast. i know, not the most normal pre-teen crush, but give me a break, he's hot - i will not take your criticism. but i remembered this today, and realized, ah, is this why i tend to go for the bigger guys? i like the broader, maybe muscular, maybe even a bit paunchy (within reason), definitely taller sort. someone who, if he grabs you, really grabs all of you. you can keep your spindly wraithlike emo boys, i want someone who looks like he can take a punch. and probably dish it out, as well. but it's rather amusing to think that maybe all that comes from rather oddly-placed crush.

ah, speaking of guys, how are all my boys? greg was online again, a rarity these days, and i told him about running into his cousin at that party over thanksgiving. he's flying out west the same time i'm heading up north. i'll have to remember to dress up if we ever do end up meeting up. he's got me beat in intelligence, i'd like to at least match him in style. i made a very distracted chris help me write the conclusion to my horrid lit essay, which i have finally finished. and today was rexy's birthday. i talked to blaize online briefly for the first time in ages and he asked about jim. i told him i really had no clue what was going on there and he changed the subject quickly. evidently katherine has mentioned us a couple of times in passing in their correspondences. i was slightly disappointed, i was rather hoping he might know something i don't, haha.

ah, as for that lit essay, it needs to be turned in promptly first thing tomorrow, so i must get to sleep. i think i did a little better than last time, though my ending is a bit prosaic, i have to admit. i essentially talked my was around a cliche as a conclusion, but i really had nowhere interesting to go will all of it. god, i hate bloom's taxonomy. i blame junior year of high school and my horrid unimaginative teachers who preached bloom's method as if it were the answer to all of mankind's ills. i'm trying with all my might to break that painful conditioning, but sometimes i still have flashbacks to that horror. i will not end all of my essays with an "epiphany" god damn it!! sorry. old, old rant. and with that, it is my bedtime. i must go now. g'night.

(oh dear, i just realized that i forgot to title that essay. at the head of that paper is the phrase "title of some sort." that just will not do. glad i caught it, ha! oh well, at least i can put it to some use...)


At 6:31 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey. We skinny guys pack some punch too. At least, those of us over six feet tall.

Slight correction: I'm taking the train to California. I'll be coming into Emeryville (where Julia is) from Montana on January 12. Hope to see you then.

And one more thing: I'm surprised that you're looking to "match me in style," considering that the single time we met in real life, I was wearing a red flannel shirt.

-Greg (

P.S: I'd also rethink the comment about me "having [you] beat in intelligence." I bet Hell would freeze over before I'd churn out a single literature paper to match one of those you've written for that class.


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