| [ |
mood |
| |
 confused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Kylie Minogue "Come Into My World" |
] |
Howdy there, ladies and gents, your very own Louie V is back on the mic with a morsel of deadjournal for your viewing pleasure. I've partied hard with the best of 'em thus far in L-town, and with only one more night to go, I plan to do my best to really meet up with and enjoy all those people again and maybe more. Perhaps we could arrange a parade or breakdance circle for us all to attend... or maybe just Wendy's, what-fucking-ever.
Wednesday was one of the best nights of the whole break, because first of all, Rachel and I sure DID go to Wendy's and eat fries and discuss lots of cool stuff/bullshit, we also began (as far as I can remember) playing our favorite game where we pick the people that we decide are really attractive both objectively and subjectively. This game would evolve, of course, and now we have a 0-10 scale going for the people we think are attractive. "Objective" basically just means "what God gave you" and "subjective" means "what you did with what God gave you". Okay guess what, if you're the girl who gets a 10 on the objective scale and then a 2 on the subjective scale, you really screwed up. That takes talent. Anyway, Kimmie called me, and before long, she, Rachel, and I went to Orland to drop by Borders or B&N, but they were closed. Undaunted, we went to the beautiful Target in Orland (seriously, this was the Ritz-Target...it had a Starbucks and everything). We went on an impromptu candy run that Kimmie graciously paid for. I was all up in my Pez, Rachel was peach-ring-cray-zay and Kimmie bought the most expensive chocolates Target had to offer. After that and another visit to Wendy's, we decided to head back to my place and watch Kimmie's rented Sex and the City DVD. Alright, I don't think the show is THAT amazing, but it sure is fun, and that alone makes me want to own the DVDs. Super-fun night, Kimmie is unparalleled in her princess (that word really isn't good enough for her...she's really an empress) ability. Rachel is tolerable.
Thursday was Thanksgiving, a holiday full of family, smalltalk, turkey, and me hiding out in my basement hoping I don't have to talk too much to the relatives I spend a lot of time successfully avoiding. I did have a mostly un-awkward conversation with my godmother about college...but it wasn't entirely unawkward, mind you. Fact is, I don't think my relatives really understand the whole me... like my sense of humor and the things I'm interested in are not things they really get. I say I want to be a pop music critic and I get a confused response from my relatives...one that suggests, "Pop music critic? Shouldn't you be bricklaying or going for a real job?" Okay, maybe not that condescending or un-understanding, but...I'm clearly a different breed than most of the people in my family. And that's fine, really, but...it doesn't mean that Thanksgiving conversations are at all accomodated by those differences. However, I did have some fun with my younger cousins, especially Bryanna, who I showed my picture cd from school...and there's this one picture of me with Kristina (that's actually my facebook picture) and Bryanna goes, "Woah. That picture looks... crazier [than the last picture I showed her]...and gayer." So that made me turn my head. I asked her, "Uhhh did...you hear about me?" And Bryanna goes, "mmmmHMMMMM" in her Joliet-diva-11-year-old voice. I'm like "Who told you?" and she goes "Tiffany." I should've known. Speaking of Tiffany, I totally talked to her on the phone the other day and okay, 1) she has gotten way funnier and 2) my level of respect for her has gone WAY up because that chica is fucken IN CHARGE of her life. She's got a job, an education, her own apartment, and a boyfriend that I rate as cool in my book. She said to me, "Are you sure your favorite [of her boyfriends] wasn't Gary?" Gary was the choad that drove 500 mph down the main road of Cumberland with me in the backseat as I silently prayed that I could make it home safely to listen my Nirvana Unplugged just once before I died. In other words, he really was my favorite.
Thanksgiving night, after a few rousing games of poker with my dad and brothers, I went with Feej and Kimmie to Baskin Robbins because we could. I love how I held out at first and was like "Oh I will not spend money at all! Woe is me! Consumerism is dangerous!" And then the minute we went to White Castle I had already decided I was getting fries. Love spending the money that is still left over from all the graduation money/drama scholarship. I bet Mr. Dolecek didn't know his money would be spent on Louis buying clothes at Express and lots of Starbucks. I'm really putting the "scholar" in "scholarship" here.
Yesterday was semi-exciting as well. Rachel and I decided to be bold in our quest to be a part of the biggest shopping day of the year, and so we took our good friend Laser the Chevy Cavalier and rode off to 75th Street, where the Best Buy awaited us. Of course I didn't have the money to buy anything real, but I did get a few ideas for my wishlist. Quiz Show was 6.99 at Best Buy, so I hope that's a shoe-in. In addition, I'm thinking of getting a season or two of Sex and the City as I mentioned earlier, and I still want Joan Baez and Mahalia Jackson cds. Perhaps one of Dylan's first discs too. Rachel and I also went to Old Navy, where the performance fleece display looked ravishing. It turns out there isn't a fuckload to do at 75th Street, and with that, Rachel and I went back to my house and scrambled to find anything to do. We ended up reading our old online journal entries...hers were pretty heavy, containing things she rightfully doesn't want to revisit, and my journal contains stuff I don't like thinking about anymore either...but I never got too intense or serious about those things in the journal, so it's not necessarily as painful to read as I guessed it would be. Rachel had work that night, so she went there and I ended up visiting her for awhile, again continuing our debate of who's (un)attractive and why. We figured out a couple people who were 10s on both scales, and to those elusive peeps, I salute you. This means you, Alanis Morissette. I drove around Lemont aimlessly after chatting with Rachel (an aimlessness I'll describe in further detail in a moment), and eventually Mike Levy called me up asking to get his ass handed to him in ping pong. So, I rescued Rachel from work, and we met up with Mike Levy, Ben Tasker, Mike Hilger, and Sarah Zintac (sp?) at Ben Tasker's house. Okay, it didn't take five minutes before I realized this group of friends was badass. They're all really funny... and I never talked to Mike Hilger before, and he's as down to earth as any cool kid I've known before and so is Sarah Zintac...so anyway, they get the much-coveted Louis Virtel Seal of Kickassitude. Levy, Sarah, and I kind just volleyed the ping pong ball back and forth for awhile, with Levy pulling most of the good shots...I seemed certain for doom in the coming ping pong match. How-fucking-EVER, I pulled out all my superstar dance grooves and before long, I vogued my way to a 21-3 victory. That was unspeakable, and Levy was tired, I'll give that to him...but that don't mean I didn't serve his ass to him like it was filet mignon. Rachel and I were outta there by a little after midnight, and that put a cap on our adventures for that day.
And here I am at almost 4 o'clock on Saturday and I still haven't done any asskicking or dancefighting yet. But oh man, it's been over a week here in Lemont, and for the most part it's been the festival of suburban delight that I thought it would be...my last two days here being quite eventful. However, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't difficult to toss aside some of the old-hat bullshit that seems to have glued itself to my perception of Lemont as a whole. For the most part I love Lemont, and I love the friends and family I have here... but there's also a part of Lemont that conjures the old feeling of a lack-of-closure, and within that lack-of-closure there's also the absolutely disenchanting feeling of revisiting my old impulse reactions to the people (scratch that, person) and bullshit beyond my control. I'm not even saying revisiting the person himself (hell, how many him-constructed rules would THAT be breaking), but... anyway, it's that feeling that makes me feel lonelier than I am sometimes. I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense. I feel flat-out stupid writing about it here or writing about it at all anymore. But honestly, screw that, because even moreso, I'm tired of feeling like a victim to this... and last night, I saw the puppeteer of all this old bullshit driving somewhere and all the sudden I felt my gut just twist, much like it would back in the old Lemont days... like a part of me was urging "FOLLOW HIM! GET ANSWERS!" Jesus Christ, what did I do to deserve this? I HATE this. I've never been treated worse by anyone my whole life, and here I am still feeling like a part of me is under his masterfully produced concept of control. Another reason it feels weird writing about this: I can't decide what part of my feelings are real and which of them are just...gut reactions or internal issues manifesting themselves through this situation. It's rare that I find it difficult to explain myself... maybe I'm just looking for a little validation that all the effort I expended into a certain prior relationship wasn't all for naught. Now why on earth would I give a shit about that? See. There you go. I don't know either. In conclusion, you-know-who-you-are, I love you and hope you're doing alright. I hope you're hoping the best for me too, somehow. But if not...that's fine too, I guess.
Well then, I need to get going deciding on how this day is going to be spent. Ideally, a super-Jeopardy match can go down between me, Eric, and Rachel, but that Eric might have a pimping appointment or some shit... and Rachel might have her usual smell-like-sandwiches appointment. Sigh. It's my last day here, I'ma try to live it up. Love you guys so much, it's back to Iowa tomorrow for the first semester homestretch, and then after that it's a MONTH off. Hope that time in Lemont doesn't eat me alive. Anyway, love you all for always, my brothers and sisters,
Louis.
|