the vast majority of my friends here at home don’t drink. they don’t see the need to, i guess: they’re quite content in their everyday-skulls, thank you. they don’t judge me and i don’t judge them. i wondered whether it’d be awkward — a party in which some people drink and the others watch. as it turned out, it wasn’t, or at least not on my end. 🙂 i usually get paranoid when i’m around non-chemically-altered people; i tend to think they’re looking down at me or snickering into their unadulterated cokes. but last nite was fun. no bad feelings, no condescension, no anger. or at least none that i recall.
becca jay and i got gloriously smashed. some others had a few drinks. pat, jamie’s bunny (pat the bunny!), politely acted as bartender. he’s working as one so he has experience. i hadn’t drunk since margaritaville at swat (at which, counterintuitively, no such liquor was touched.) that was a great nite too i remember. we all got wasted in the chateau, then went to see Wonder Boys, taking more along w/ us in juice bottles; then we returned to the chateau and partook some more before heading over to the DU party, which, as it turned out, sucked. we danced anyway in that lovely unself-conscious way that alcohol allows. (“could you please not act so drunk?”) that was the nite that i said, “alcohol is just a state of mind,” and ben said, “yeah, like a girlfriend.”
becca has gotten herself an online journal but she won’t tell me what the address is. ridiculous.
she and ilana slept over after all the assorted crazy people trickled away. then today we went to go meet the other becca, swatbecca, who’s in town w/ the catholic branch of her family for the 85th birthday of the matriarch. she and her uncles, all of whom look the same, fed us and then took us for a tour of eastern market. i bought a new wallet, yes, unfortunately, leather, but what can you do? still looking for a new cool bag as well. as pennbecca pointed out, my new wallet will serve me well in sweden, as it has a rather large coin section.
SF on tues.
it’s been a good week. dad and judah are back home, and when i got back (relaxed, refreshed) today, everyone was already sulking about something or other. yuck.
spark’s stress test only gave me 15% — certainly a week w/ all that rancor would raise that number significantly. guess i may as well leave, huh? 🙂
this is my day’s work so far. another uploaded and created page of poetry. i guess i should probably organize these better but i’m not sure how yet.
my brother: “what day is it?”
my brother’s friend: “seven.”
“yeah, he said yesterday he choked on the estrogen.”
(johnny, in ref. to a friend of his who was reading my [this] journal.)
didn’t get the job i wanted. i’m not sure what i’ll do now; find something else, i guess.
last nite was fun: talking and binge eating @ becca’s cousins’ house in potomac w/ becca and later ilana too. we would have gotten together w/ more people but people were reluctant to brave the storm. crazy shit: lightning kept turning the sky lavender for brief, passionate moments. i had to drive home in that, so, half-recalling conventional wisdom, i tried to only keep one hand on the wheel at all times.
party at my house tonite? adam’s inviting friends over too. well, it’s a big house.
unforunately, patricia ireland ran into traffic or something; she never made it to the panel today. but ellie smiel (pres. of feminist majority and past pres. of now) did. she and a couple other vanguards of the feminist movement stood in front of the group of like-30 of us, all collegiate interns for various women’s groups in the area, and lectured us passionately about the state of feminism today, what needs to be done, what’s disgraceful, and what we have to be hopeful about. they also answered questions. the girls are extremely bright: articulate, energetic, and really engaged. just the atmosphere was inspiring.
it’s a six week program combining discussion, think-tank-like elements, a public speaking class, activities, speakers, and finally a lobbying session on capital hill. yeah, i’m excited. not to mention lucky.
i met nomi at teaism, and maya who’s working there, and we discussed the international arm of the women’s movement and aids in africa, nomi’s hotbotton issue. then nomi and i wandered over to cvs to feed my habit and while there we stopped in the feminine product aisle to see which tampons have bleach in them. “this is ridiculous,” i said, surveying the aisle. “they should rearrange this so that it goes condoms, then pregnancy tests, then diapers.” a woman standing next to us with a pregnancy test burst out laughing. “sorry,” she said. “i couldn’t help but overhear. … you’re absolutely right.” later, when she was buying the test, the checkout lady congratulated her. “yeah, i hope so,” she said. which, nomi and i agreed, was better than ‘i hope not.’
i’m going to becca’s for shabbes dinner in a bit. i get to meet her cousins and apparently her grandma too. yeeeehaw.
and i’m getting such a kick out of my guestbook; it’s like one long extended private joke … trying to figure out who each message belongs to is twisted fun (clearly, my friends have not yet learned the art of attribution.) still, i appreciate each entry: thanks, y’all. i feel loved. and amused, which may or may not be better.
happy weekend, chitlins.
best advice anyone’s given me in a while: “don’t be tempted to fast-forward.”
i always am, or nearly always. it’s my nature. i want to read the last page early on; i want to know in advance that things either will work out or won’t, or more generally how shit ends. i don’t like surprises, really, or being taken off guard — i guess i don’t trust myself, or life, enuf.
i have to learn to enjoy things as they happen.
tonite was lovely. met ilana at skool, rescued her from reunion awkwardness, brought her to nomi’s house. all three of us went to the playground and discussed women’s issues (whahoo!) (no really.) tamar joined us. lots of laughter. i told the story about how yesterday, when becca and i were shopping, we stopped in the feminine products aisle. the display is mesmerizing: plastic box after plastic box of pinkbluepinkbluegreenpinkblue. “aren’t they allowed to use any color but pastel?” i asked. “yeah,” said becca. “they should make one black. like, ‘this is what you feel like.'”
we were all on the same wavelength. that’s one of the best feelings in the world. finishing each other’s sentences, telling each other’s stories, everyone just for a few hours cheerful and content.
tomorrow i get to meet patricia ireland too. sweet, man.
check this out, kidlets. maybe it’ll make you get all soggy too.
i don’t know — i guess there are just some days
(like when you’re feeling heavy and draggy, claustrophic at work, and headachy; when, racing home to meet the exterminators, you just barely avoid an accident involving an oblivious woman in a subaru)
that you just need to walk in yr home
and find a package
preferably a mix-tape
preferably from across the country
preferably w/ a letter on powder-blue paper and a picture of an owl on it
i guess because owls rock.
that must be it.
east west us. east+west=us. east. west. us.
uhhhhh so heavy … becca had the brilliant idea to make us vegetarian chili tonite. we shopped for the ingredients and met ari at my house and all three of us contributed to the chili-making effort. that included brainstorming things to throw in the pot that would make what was in the pot taste less like tomato paste (ultimate [and successful] solution: more beans, more chili pepper, and little green chilis.) chili + garlic-infused bread = no movement; we all more or less passed out upstairs in my room.
we talked too. ari asked me whether if someone granted me 4 more years of life than i would otherwise have with the condition that i’d have to spend them doing high skool again, would i take the offer? i really didn’t know. certainly gave me pause. i mean, maybe heaven’s great, you know? granted, we don’t know — but i do know what jds was (not fun) and i have no interest in returning. *shrug*
my grandmother called. shoulder hurting. my mother called. bored in charlottesville. i told her to knock on doors and make friends. “oh no,” she said. “it’s not like there’s any lack of people. they’re all swarming in the bar right now, singing karaoke.” i expressed my deepest sympathy. my father called. had i called my mother yet? was the dog still alive? was anything on fire? did the exterminators come? (no; and when they finally called, they didn’t even apologize, just told me to be there at the same time tomorrow. bastards.)
network was a great flick. i was 5/5 this week, only it’s still disappointing cause it’s only 5. i guess i could squeeze one more film in before i return them but i don’t really have the energy. whatever, 5’s not bad, especially since they were all quality. quality words were spoke tonite too: more funny shit yo: “i am right 78% of the time,” announced becca, and damn i was going to quote ari and now i’ve forgotten. ah well.
i realized that the reason i wasn’t as euphoric after this most recent ani concert was b/c she plays a lot of new stuff now. her new stuff’s great, but i don’t like it much more, or in some cases even more, than most new stuff i listen to. whereas her earlier stuff got me so excited — i just really related to her; she touched me; it’s personal, somehow, in a way that this stuff isn’t as much. if she did a flashback tour, i might expire of happiness, but hopefully after the show and not just having got word of it.
funny shit, yo. all right, it has been brought to my attention that i “indescriminately” male-bash. SO, because (a) i would hate to give that impression, and (b) i’m in a better mood now, having (1) slept a little, (2) showered, (3) had people over who hung out, were amusing company, and then left before i started looking meaningfully at my watch, i should do something positive.
like pay tribute to the many many males in my life who are wonderful people or have been wonderful to me in the past; males who would never yell at a woman out the window of their car much less ignore it if they were standing next to a woman being harassed.
so here’s to the boys who have:
* driven me when i didn’t have a ride;
* taken me to orioles’ games;
* taught me to play pool;
* made me laugh;
* inspired poetry;
* read my poetry;
* critiqued my poetry;
* introduced me to new music;
* made me paper flowers;
* kissed my hand;
* taken me seriously;
* asked me questions;
* told me stories while we worked together, wiping tables and slicing melons in the kitchen on kibbutz;
* made me fall in love w/ them (him.)
i have scottish accents running thru my head, having just come away from breaking the waves, a lars van trier film with that bears more than a passing resemblance to his later dancer in the dark, starring bjork. in waves, it’s emily watson who plays the sort-of-simple, pure, otherworldly heroine. she’s fabulous, just as bjork is and in the same way — each seems perfectly suited for the part. van trier is now 2 for 2 in succeeding to leave me curled up like a shrimp and sobbing.
actually, i don’t know what’s been wrong w/ me recently but every evening has provided me w/ reason to get depressed. even (especially) stupid things. quite possibly it’s exhaustion: i haven’t gotten nearly as much sleep as i should have: 16 and a half hours over the past three nites. i keep pulling at my hair, which gives me headaches but i can’t seem to stop. i have nothing to stress about and yet i’m filled w/ stress: i have to watch all seven of the movies; i can’t get my webpage to appear on certain computers (is it a netscape thing?) and i don’t know how to fix it; i haven’t found a second job yet, tho i’ve applied.
christ, what’s wrong w/ me?
yesterday, after ani, which was terrific of course, liz jamie and ilana came back to my house. it took longer than it should have since a bunch of girls there got blasted w/o thinking of how they were going to get home, and, being somewhat acquainted w/ liz, they corraled her into helping them. it’s a long story and the result of it was an even longer drive that threatened to irritate all of us, particularly liz, who was tired too and had the work the next day.
maybe yoga this evening; maybe that’ll help. maybe a small crowd at my house, tho i’m not letting anyone stay too late. and if matt rubin makes one more explicit comment, i’ll give him his balls in a tupperware box and send him and them home to GW in a taxi. too much reading about violence against women and too many catcalls have left me w/ no patience. (really, unless it happens to you continuously, you have no idea how large a toll that shit can take. you feel guilty, you feel dirty, you feel ashamed, and all you did was walk down a street. it’s made me angrier, too, i’ve noticed, in general, because there’s no recourse and there’s no outlet for your frustration. this after only having to deal w/ it for 2 – 3 weeks!)
4 month anniversary a couple days ago. totally forgot about it. that’s one-third of a year … wow.
okay. i’ll cheer up. i’ll go to sleep first; when i wake up, i’ll be all right.
“i wonder about all the roads not taken and am moved to quote Frost … but won’t. It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me.” –sylvia plath, journals of sylvia plath.
i underlined that almost exactly a year ago. initially the journals really excited me, i remember. i kept my pencil in my hair and kept pulling it out to mark something that struck me as poetic, particularly well-said, or just something that could have come from my own mind. then as i continued to read, or, put another way, as sylvia aged, i found myself relating to her less, and ultimately i even disliked her. funny thing. i’m not sure what changed. i think i lost patience w/ her bipolarity: she was either entirely confident in her own brilliance, or she felt she had no talent at all and should stop take up dishwashing as a hobby.
it frightened me a little b/c i felt like we were on the same wavelength, to a degree, early on. i didn’t (don’t) want to end up like her. altho of course the accolades &c. would be much appreciated.
was there any way to be memorable w/o being depressed? i remember also mulling over that. as jill sobule says, “dorothy parker: mean drunk and depressed. … tennessee williams: drunk and depressed. i guess i’ll just get drunk and depressed ….”
it was at the same time that i discovered that janeane garofolo had gotten a breast reduction when she was in her teens b/c, as she said, at 5’2″, a 36D chest made her look “dumpy.”
so much for heroes. (which is, of course, jill sobule’s point in the song)
on a similar note, i watched the insider this afternoon. long but interesting and extremely well-acted; clearly russel crowe got his oscar belatedly.
i was supposed to go w/ RB and MR to a concert this evening. at the last minute, tamar called and said nomiyoni and adam were going out for ice cream as a goodbye to yoni, who’s leaving for memphis. i changed plans and went, partly b/c i knew i wouldn’t see yoni for 5 months or so, and partly b/c i needed to talk to tamar.
it went all right. i don’t know, i just have much more fun in situations where i don’t have to banter mean-spiritedly. inevitably it catches me off guard, i guess b/c i’m still unused to being attacked, even jokingly. i can respond w/ attacks of my own and sometimes they amuse the people around us, but mostly it doesn’t make me happy.
it particularly sucks in this instance b/c last year yoni and i were friends — or at least more than we are now. last year we were moderately close: if we did banter, i knew that there was luv behind the barbs. w/o that reassurance, i get a little upset.
ah well. i’m really tired. after going to bed at 4 last nite, i got woken up at 9:45 this morning and i didn’t go back to sleep. (“sleep! that’s where i’m a viking!”)
five pts if you can get not only the reference but the episode. email me yr guesses (see form on the side that i worked so long last nite to get right?)
oh man oh man … today was one marathon after another: 6 miles in torrential rain w/ ilana and jay (altho it was constructive, as the rain and i finally made friends) and now 4 hrs straight of web design. i don’t have much to show for it but check it out anyway.
in between, good lebanese, truffaut’s the 400 blows, and general chill time. jamie joined us. i hadn’t seen her since last weekend.
my father leaves tomorrow and apparently he’s taking my little brother judah w/ him. monday my mother leaves so it will be adam and me alone for a week. whoa craziness. might go to ben lee w/ rachel block and matt rubin tomorrow nite? i have no idea who he is but r. block invited me. hey man, whatever.
ANI monday nite!
christ, i should sleep.