I shouldn’t be writing here. I have about three papers that are extremely overdue and an entire book to read before 1:00, and I can’t make myself do it. I mean, I can, but I’ve lost motivation and I’m scarily passive about school, when I can’t be. Damn it, I thought I was invincible.
. . .
I asked Erik to pick me up some things at the grocery store when he was out last night. He walks in my room when he returns, with an extremely proud look on his face. He extracts a packet of sweet corn seeds from his pocket and hands them to me.
“Um, what are these for?”
“Well, I didn’t get you your food.”
“. . . ”
“I thought, you give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a lifetime. No, wait, hold on, that’s not right. You give a man fish, he’ll eat for a day. You teach a man to get corn, no fish, wait, you teach a man to fish, he’ll eat forever. For a lifetime, I mean.”
“. . . ”
“Please laugh. I worked on that joke all the way home from the store.”
“Sweet corn. I like sweet corn. Maybe I should plant this.”
“Shut up.”
My world is existing in snapshots as of late. Days and weeks and months are photographs, flipped through like animation. It’s like I sometimes can’t remember what was said or where, but I remember what I saw and heard and touched and breathed: white tails, unbelievably cinematic moonlight reflected on one dimensional water, silhouettes, closed eyes, bone disguised as muscle under stretched warm skin, sensuality in breath, sirens snow deceiving sunlight cracked backs honey ice cream tracing fingers hair under fist underneath and over and against and through and close enough to almost touch but delaying and delaying it and delaying delaying delaying and shadows and lurking and driving to the top of the world and contemplating, seriously contemplating, falling into the lake in three quick steps, but knowing that burning would be better, quicker, more lovely and complete.
I’m in the middle of a match that isn’t quite blown out and is sitting in a pile of trash, unseen. I might explode. I might just burn out.
I might become cancerous.
If you live in or very close to Minneapolis, and are looking for someone to sublet your apartment for the summer or for a temporary roommate, let me know.
“Dude, there’s a black spot on my pancake.”
“It’s probably from an oil spill.”
“Oil tankers are too big to fit in a kitchen, you know. That’s impossible.”
“Wait, no, maybe an oil tanker came from the lake, hit an iceberg, hit the back of the restaurant and oil leaked into the kitchen.”
“Oh, and it just sort of spurted up onto my pancake?”
“Yeah, kind of like a whale spout.”
“Okay, that makes sense.”
::pause::
“What the hell are we talking about?”
The house should be quiet during the day tomorrow, which is an excellent thing as I need to save my academic ass. I actually spent this week acting my age, and thusly, wasn’t able to complete any actually schoolwork. Remind me not to fail.
Bits: Sunny Wicked won a Battle of the Bands this week, as they should have. The pink is all but gone from hair, still visible, but faded enough to be considered a non-entity. My left hipbone is bruised to the core. As Beth put it, what our house really needs is a straight jacket.
Example? Corina had a couple of friends from out of town coming over, and this is the scene they walked into:
Erik is in his room playing with his microphone and effects processor by making his voice sound extremely deep and scary. He was doing this very loudly. Beth laughing hysterically at him. Chris F., on the floor covered in blankets and pillows, yelling, “Let’s go to Carval’s in Jesse Hug’s car!” Carval’s being a mispronunciation of Culver’s and Jesse Hugs, being a mispronunciation of Jesse’s last name. And then and then and then. I’m sure we’ve scared them off.
I suppose we’re having a big party at our house tomorrow night. One of our friends had originally organized this huge party at a big venue, but it was canceled in a totally crock way, as you can read here. So, we’re trying to compensate.
Sleep.
A little splash of wisdom from Anna:
“Do you ever feel like you’re already in freefall when you hear someone yell, ‘Hey! don’t jump’? It’s good advice, but bad timing.”
“You wouldn’t try to put the ocean in a paper cup -
Happy birthday to Jason, who has the official right to be an alcoholic if he wishes now.
I had people over from one of my classes this afternoon to work on a group project, and I came to the conclusion that my household, along with the nerds that lurk in the house, doesn’t know how to handle normal people. Before my group members even came over, Chris F. and Rick and Jason were already concocting different ways to initiate them into nerdom, but alas, no initiation was made. I suppose I didn’t realize what a tight knit group we are, but I like it - all cozy and dependable, like if my car battery suddenly died at 1:30 in the afternoon at a gas station, I can rely on a nerd to come and save me (which happened this afternoon).
I’m in such a haze. I’m not treating my body nicely and I’m not throwing any scrumptious juicy writing chock full of stunning insight and intellect your way at the moment, but ohhhh baby, my soul is fed in such a riiiiiight way (song lyric) (nerd).
My eyes feel metallic. I slept so hard last night, didn’t wake up even to the alarm, only to the realization that the down comforter was too thick against the morning heat. My life soundtrack consists of Ani and strawberry Twizzlers and candle wax. I’m crouching in some corner of my head right now, biding time, but I’m also noticing the grass and the dead lilac bush and the slowly de-graying lake again. I’m also too abstract and vague.
To dinner I go, with my pink-haired roommate.
Hi. So, I just got back from seeing Brenda Weiler at school, who I thought was extra cute and an excellent singer. She has the cool contained sort of personality I’ve always admired. I bet she never blushes at all the wrong moments. I haven’t slept in forever and I’m almost tempted to sleep now. But I also haven’t done homework in forever. I’ve kind of forgotten about it, I think. I do homework much better when I’m in a blue funk, and I haven’t been in a blue funk in weeks, quite the opposite actually. I was walking to the concert tonight, and the sun hadn’t quite gone down, and the weather was perfect perfect breezy lake air, and everything was just orgasmically right. Orgasmically!
Must read. Must! Must! Must! Increase! My Bust!
Open letter to my stomach:
Dear Stubborn Pissy You:
I hate to break it to you, but in order for you and I both to continue living, I have to eat and you have to digest what I eat. Rejecting everything I put in you by laughingly flinging it back up my throat two seconds after I eat isn’t prudent for either of us. I don’t care if you don’t like Special K or french fries. It’s all I have to eat, damn it, and you WILL eat it. None of this cowardly “Oh, I’m too good to eat this” crap. I’m going to replace you with a feeding tube if you don’t shape up.
Love,
The Girl Without an Appetite who has a Stomach Without a Soul
I like how Ad Aware congratulates me when it doesn’t detect any spyware on my computer. It makes me feel special.
So not eating or sleeping for two days = no prom for Zosia. I got all dressed up, lipstick on teeth and everything, and promptly felt like dying. So, I bid Corina and Beth a good time, and am now going to crawl into blankets with tea and books.
Here’s how it’s gone down so far: party last night. I finally fell asleep around 9 AM. I on and off slept all day, and now we’re going to be late to Geek Prom. My head is so fuzzy, full of gravity and geeks and feather earrings and rainy nights and the formation of my ribcage to fit another. Designs and all.
I’ll have pictures up after the prom.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that today has been one of the happiest, funnest days I’ve had in a long time. I haven’t even done anything unusual yet - the day was just so warm and bright, and everyone in my house was hyper, and I cuddled with people and ran around singing Tenacious D (”That’s fuckin’ TEAMWOOOOOORK”) until everyone wanted to kill me, and then Dane, Beth, Corina and I went shopping for Geek Prom, and I found geeky things, and we’re having a party tonight and I am just wonderfully content right now. I love this damn town when the weather is nice, and our house is full. It’s cozy and complete.
. . .
I was sitting on the stairs in a towel after my shower talking to Beth, and she was inspired, so she took this artsy picture.
It is so beautiful outside, and that’s an understatement. It’s amazing how the whole campus comes alive in weather like this - everyone seems to be extra nice and chipper, all brought together by the bond of Awesome Non-Snowy Weather. I want to have an impromptu party tonight just for the goodness of excellent weather. I want to go to the beach and chase people like nerds around the sand.
And maybe that’s exactly what I’ll do.
P.S.: Geek Prom is Saturday, not tonight. In case you were worried for me.
Mark over at In Transit and I are sharing the same odd phenomena: we’ve both lost interest in eating.
To preface, my appetite is usually unbelievable. If I’m not eating, I’m thinking about it and while I try to be a healthy fresh faced 8 glasses of water a day girl, I usually ruin this by stuffing myself with junk at night. But seriously, my appetite has vanished. The nerds went out to eat after the Sunny Wicked show and me, being the usual anti-social hermit I am, opted not to go, but begged for them to bring me back food, and when they did, I didn’t even want it. And today, I made this elaborate lunch, ate one bite and then put it in Tupperware. Maybe pink haired people don’t eat.
Tomorrow is Geek Prom and I don’t even have a geeky outfit yet. Travesty! I think I’m just going to make an incredibly ugly face and hold it the entire time. I have a talent in this.
And on another random note, I need to learn to think before speaking. I think I’ve turned into That Girl, the one who spews forth spacey, non-sensical crap. My mouth is not connected to my brain anymore - I keep saying ridiculous things and then I get that slow nodding, wide-eyed “Holy shit, is she for real?” look from people. This song was written for me (and for once this week, it’s not an Ani song).
I have pink hair. Believe me when I tell you this was the best picture I could muster. I honestly think I’m the most unphotogenic person who exists.
I’ve forgotten about Participation Positives two weeks in a row now, so I’ll add them here, in short bits:
Pink hair. Regained health. The potential of warmer days. Getting good grades, despite my absolute awful tendencies towards procrastination. Songs (1, 2, 3) you can’t stop listening to because they are just that good, and even when you try to listen to other songs, just so you don’t get sick of the good songs, the other songs sound flat in comparison. Moments, subtle delicious moments, where something might happen, but you’re not sure, also known as Anticipation. Clean laundry. Groceries. Mochas and orange tea and live jazz. Independence. Poetry. Music, music and music and more music, and candles, and dark rooms, and maybes, and ink stained fingers.
That should do it.
So, I tried my hair again, and it’s officially an interesting pinkish-purple, extremely bright colour called Fuschia Shock. I’ll put a picture up once my camera acquires batteries.
What a cheat Daylight Savings Time is. I technically should’ve gotten a nice, well-rounded weekend sleep, but instead, I fell asleep around 5:30, and arose around 12, which for a Sunday and sleep-deprived girl, is not enough.
My big quest this weekend was to dye my hair a “crazy color.” I bought this color (it’s titled Mystic Heather), dyed the front chunks of my hair and it turned a very subtle pinkish pastel Easter color that is only visible if you’re a superhero. So much for even being a fair-weather punk.
I’m not one to recount dreams, mostly because I think reading about other people’s dream are boring.
So, I had this dream last night that the nerds and I were offered a chance to go to the opposite end of the world. We walked there, and it ended up being not exactly the opposite end, like China or something of that nature, but more like a different dimension of our same world. It was muddy and dark and wild animals were running around naked and free. We tried to teach the people that lived in this world about our world, but they dismissed us and said that it was better if they didn’t know. On the way back to our world, Dane spotted a bear and went to taunt it (somehow, I see this happening in real life just as easily). The bear could care less about Dane, but a giraffe poked it’s head out of the trees, saw Dane, lowered it’s neck, charged and impaled Dane right through the stomach.
I’m sure this has a deep, philosophical, world-changing meaning.
Because when you can’t think of your own original words, you use others to say what you’re thinking, right?
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Bits:
It’s 40 degrees outside, but snow keeps falling. The sun is positively relentless (TM Dane) and the snow melts when it hits the street, so the nagging feeling that it looks like ash won’t leave me. But ash from what?
If you’re going to be in Duluth on April 13 and are 21, you should attend the Geek Prom with some of us nerds. We’re all too excited for our own good.
I’m not sleeping lately. I’ll crawl into bed at 2 AM, and then stare at the ceiling for hours. I fall into this half-sleep (more wake than sleep, however), and I hallucinate. I had a dream the other night that I was packing up all my books to send to Nick because he had demanded I send them. I was upset about this, and in my half-awake state, I thought I saw Nick standing in the middle of my room, wearing a bright yellow button up shirt with an inkstain on the pocket, arms outstretched. On a sidenote, one of the books I was packing up was A Tale of Two Cities, a book I do own, but haven’t read or thought about since the 11th grade.
Damn if Spring doesn’t turn me into crushing blushing schoolgirl.
And, before I curl up to remedy my one hour of sleep, here’s a poem by a fantastic poet I came across yesterday:
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The Friday Five, because I sure as hell am not getting any studying done.
1. What are the first things that you do in the morning to start your day? Yell at the alarm clock. Hide under the covers. Hit snooze at least eight times, then finally pull myself out of bed, stumble to my computer, put in my contacts, check my e-mail, whine, take a shower and then remember the homework I forgot to do.
2. What are the last things that you do at night before going to bed? As of late, it’s been trying to do homework, lighting candles, getting distracted by Sunny Wicked recording in the next room, hanging out with them, then reading in bed.
3. What daily routine have you recently added to your day? Tap dancing. Not really.
4. What routine do you wish you could get rid of Waking up pissed every morning.
5. What’s the one thing that makes you feel like something is missing if you don’t do it some point within your day? Checking my e-mail or sitting idly in front of my computer for at least three hours.
I have lost the ability to concentrate, focus or remember anything. Does this mean I have ADD? Two of my roommates have ADD. Does that mean it’s contagious?
Seriously. During one of my classes today, a class that I actually enjoy and you know, like, learn in, this monologue was spinning through my head:
TEACHER: Okay, do you think Ruth Hall is a good novel?
INNER VOICE OF ME (which, for a while, I was convinced was British, but after the show where I had talk to in a British accent ended, that seemed to end as well. Cheerio): Alright, a good novel, let’s see. I liked it, I definitely did. ::rubbing upper lip:: Oh man, I need some chapstick. I wonder if I had any? Oh yes, I have that Herbal stuff I took from Erik. Weird. Oh, ha, that reminds me of the Mothman Prophecies and how Rick keeps whispering, “Chapstick” at me.
The girl across from me looks like Marlene Dietrich. Holy crap, she has long legs. They seriously look longer than my whole body. Who else looks like a movie star in here? The girl in the red sweater kinda looks like a flapper - hey, did that kid dye his hair? Oh shit, I was going to get blue dye for my hair today. I wonder if I have time? I have that test to study for - oh, shit, I haven’t finished my paper. I wonder if he’s going to accept it two weeks late, when my first was two weeks late? I could really go for some fruit snacks right now. Those Gushers were damn good last night. Gushers is kind of a suggestive word, sort of like -
TEACHER: . . . and, or at least, that’s what the critic said. What do you think, Zosia?
Of course I thought in hyperlinks, too.
And now, I have a test to study for and a paper to write, and the house is quiet, but oh, look, I wonder how many times I can flick this lighter until the gas runs out or oh, look, I can make my wrist do this awesome popping thing, do you want to see?
I can’t even blame it on Spring Fever, as Duluth thinks it’s the arctic. Damn identity crisis, on both our parts.
Things of note:
- I’m wearing a poncho right now. No, not a rain poncho, but this very soft hooded beige poncho that my mother gave me for Christmas. I couldn’t bear to tell her that I was pretty sure I wouldn’t find a use for a faux cashmere poncho, so I took it home, and it’s become a Blanket for Lazy People.
- My eyes! My eyes! I think I’m suddenly allergic to contacts. I’ve only been wearing them for, oh, eight years. Why now? Wh?
- Speaking of why, why is it snowing in April? I’ve been trying to rebel by not wearing a jacket and flouncing around outside in thin tanktops. I’ll show them.
- I had a honest-to-goodness authentic caffeinated beverage today for the first time in a month. I’m twitching.
- That should do it. Now, who wants to write my Drama Theory paper? You? You? No? You’re all jerks.
I like to fiddle with stuff. I think I like this blue scheme better, and what do you know, it happens to coincide with my site name! I live to amaze you. Like I’ve stated and re-stated, nothing is quite uniform yet. I’m too impatient, and much too slow, to re-design everything and then wait to put it up in one shining package. Instead, you get it bit by bit, so there’s a little past, present and future all jumbled in blue soup here. Disclaimer: I’m not a well-versed in code. What I want things to look like, and what they actually look like, are two battling concepts. /end disclaimer. /begin consumption of caffeine.
Random bits for you:
When in doubt, coerce someone to go get you ice cream.
I know this design is wearing ugliness right now, but it’ll change eventually.
That is all.