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Kylie Minogue "More, More, More" |
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Oy-VAY. Hello, y'alls... you are correct in thinking it has been too long since a motherfucking update, and two, I am already back at Iowa. Good God, where did the time go... last thing I remembered I was watching Sex and the City with Kimmie and hanging out with Rachel... and shit, here I am, back in the old cube at Iowa. I was semi-paranoid over break that I would arrive back at my dorm to find that my computer was stolen...or worse, still there but with a sledgehammer firmly embedded in it (perhaps with a note saying "your head is next, Virtel"). Happily, the computer is still here, and the Kylie cd I left at school is now sexily booming through its dinky-ass speakers. I missed Fever like it was my lost birth mother, so finally, I am reunited with the damn thing, and I didn't even need the help of the Maury show. However, as I stated ever so eloquently up above, it has been far too long since we've chatted, so let me get reviewing before I forget everything I've done in the past week.
Last Wednesday, Rachel and I set out on an adventure to go to the mystical land of Second City. This required a lot of ahead-of-time thinking, since both Rachel and I shit ourselves at the thought of having to successfully navigate anyplace that isn't the inside of a Starbucks. I went to LHS to pick her up and chatted it up with the drama department and Joan Hamburger down in her little office on the first floor. Talked with her for a few minutes before we scheduled to talk again on Friday at 1. After that, Rachel and I partied all the way down to DG, got on the 4:48 train into the city, and then (in remarkably efficient fashion) found our way in the city to the Dearborn bus that took us to North and Clark. We skipped down that lane and had dinner at the highest-rated fancy resturant in Zagat's-- Burger King. Rachel and I were chatting about something ridiculous, and then she started choking on her drink... and then I pointed and laughed, only to fucking choke on my drink to the point where I almost dry-heaved everything in my mouth onto Rachel's face. I'm sure we looked pretty cosmopolitan as we simulatenously choked and got down with our bulimic selves. So after Burger King, we flocked to the Second City mainstage, where we got seated at the nice bar where you're not facing the side walls. Our conversation before the show was actually funnier than the actual show, I thought. We went on for...too long about things that rhyme with "Dracula". After hitting the big words like "Spectaculah" and "Vernaculah" we simply made up phrases that ended in "aculah". I hope the people around us weren't intimidated by our hip hop roots shining through our thinly-veiled suburban guise. After the show, the improv went down, and oh man there's a God, because for once, the Second City improv came through, was funny, and not a bear to sit through. It made me pretty envious; I wanted to be up there with all the funny peeps. One thing about Second City: afterwards I can almost never remember the skits. Could it be Alzheimers? We'll see. Well... you'll see, I won't know the difference. Then, proudly, Rachel and I went bused ourselves to Union Station like we knew what the hell we were doing... then on the train ride home, we started collaborating on our historically themed children's book which will basically rewrite how high schools teach about things like the assassination of President Lincoln, Auschwitz, and the murder of Jonbenet Ramsey. It came time to get off at our stop, and Rachel and I accidentally went to the wrong door in the train car. Now that wouldn't be a big deal...if the train didn't TAKE OFF FOR THE NEXT TOWN BY THE TIME WE TURNED AROUND! I swear to God, not 4 seconds after stopping, the train got restless and kept on going...with Rachel and I still on it. So the conductor sees us and is like, "Didja miss yer stop?" And I'm like "Uhh, yeah, the train stopped for like two seconds!" And he says, "You guys don't ride trains a lot, do you?" Apparently not fucking enough, sir! Then the guy tries to walkie-talkie the main conductor, and he's like "Gotta stop the train, two people missed their stop." And of course a voice says back to him, "No can do!" Good God. So then I'm flipping out in my head since it's fucking 1:30 AM, and I'm headed for some town called Belmont. Then my favorite conductor suggests to us, "You guys could call a cab when you get to Belmont." And I'm like "Oh are there cabs that go to Belmont this late?" And the guy replies, "No." WHAT?! WHAT?! DId that man seriously just suggest that I call a non-existent cab? O fucking M G. Thankfully, two cool people were getting off the train right then, and they said if we just followed the train tracks, the walk back to Downers Grove is only a mile... yes, boys and girls, Rachel and Louis walked down the train tracks to DG at 1:45 AM. Not only did we walk through the rain, but I was wearing my fucking polo shirt and Express pants. I was walking like my name was Evelyn, flailing my arms about like a bitch, constantly making noises because of all the jagged rocks. I'd turn around occasionally to see Rachel with her matted down wet hair and kind of scared look in her eye. We were easily the preppiest train-dwellers I've ever seen. We did make it back to Laser The Chevy Of Love eventually, and because we were already badasses out late on one of Rachel's precious schoolnights, we partied down to "Lose My Breath", "What You Waiting For", and "Work It", an anthem that Rachel and I of course know all the words to. Nothing like thinking about what the outside picture of us must look like... I dunno, can YOU picture Louis and Rachel proclaiming, "Gimme SOME SOME SOME SOME of this cinnabon." You may know us by our real names: Tupac and Missy. What a wonderful night; I'm actually glad the train extravaganza happened, because when shit like that happens to Rachel and I, it's too good and too funny. I mean look at us. We're the most neurotic, sarcastic people I know... train shit SHOULD happen to us. Anyway, that was a night to remember, foreva, yo.
This entry is taking fucking a millennium to write. I really should sign off of AIM before I tackle this shit...moving on I spent the next day catching up with two of my hippest compadres. I spent the morning at Elyse's, and actually, it was completely refreshing. I love Elyse's humor so much, it's always sarcastic in a rockstar way. She told me the story of her New Years which was nothing short of biblical. I think there was an ark and everything. Later that night, Eric and I went out for coffee, and I've never hung out with Eric one-on-one before, but we got to talking about acting and college and all that... it was pretty productive. Eric has always been someone I've trusted a hell of a lot, so it was nice to catch up with him. We both got a donut at Baskin Robbins, and our BFF the foreign guy was there... so it was kind of like a second Christmas. Another rockin' day. Less train track shit, but a good day.
Friday, I got my haircut bright and early at 10 AM. At the brink of noon. Wayne didn't let me down, I look all spiffy and shorn... then a little while after that, I went to LHS for my scheduled Joan Hamburger appointment. Okay, this woman totally kicks ass because one, she made me motherfucking chocolate chip cookies... isn't that incredible? And two, we chatted for an hour and a half about everything, and she's one "authority" figure that I like hearing personal information about. Joan told me that I shouldn't get a job at school (...who...is...this woman...) and that I should focus all my efforts on prepping for the class I want to take at Second City next summer. Will I really need a semester of prepping? Guess I'd be a bastard to ignore her advice though! I do want a job, however, so I think I'm going to get one for the hell of it. Joan and I parted at like 2:25 when Shelly Brannigan of all people walked down to visit Mrs. Hamburger. I went home and chilled for most of the day until late that night, when I went with Monica and Jacob Birk to Dan O'Dwyer's for a quick second before chilling at IHOP. Monica swore that her friend Pasqua (sp?) worked at said IHOP and that we would get free food. Turns out he didn't work there. I'm sure Pasqua doesn't even work at an IHOP... my guess is he works at like... a Pizza Hut on the other side of the state for all I know. Monica's a little misinformed like that. I got home at motherfarking 3 AM...and with only one more day of break to spend, I recruited Rachel and we went to the mall. I think the only thing purchased was a cheap belt from the Gap...but the trip was overall worth it because of all the ZESTY ORANGE jackets at Express... okay come on, who's gonna buy that shit. Not to mention Rachel and I also sat at Panera for close to eleven hours. I think broccoli-cheese soup is the fucking nectar of the winter season. It's really too bad I'm not satisfied unless I have fourteen pieces of bread to eat the soup with, but that's what they call me Captain Carb-y. Rachel and I went to my house soon after and cooked up a completely homemade Tombstone pizza. We made the rounds online but mostly chatted and watched SNL, a show which apparently is not tired of turning to shit. Rachel and I had to part ways at 2AM, and now here I am at Iowa, with no Lemont compadres (STUPID Kinga) to comfort me. Sigh.
When I arrived back at school, I was initially pretty bummed by how suddenly break was over, and I was bracing myself for another four months of schooling...plus I was tired as hell because of my super seven hours of sleep (now's a good time to thank Mark and the fucking AMPITHEATRE OF METALLICA that he decided to start outside my door). I got all my shit put away in my dorm, and then I went up the ole loft for a nap. I couldn't sleep for some reason, frustrating me to the point where I said out loud, "I hate this place." Then I got myself into a little rut that was abruptly halted when Maggie and Kinzy came into my room and hugged me. I've been informed that we are officially celebrating Maggie's birthday tomorrow with a... Will Smith party (yes you read that right) with cupcakes and pear juice. Hopefully Kristina will be there too. Later that night, Alyssa and I are getting supplies and possibly checking around for jobs. So already the day is full tomorrow, I'm pretty excited. I don't think I've grasped yet that I'm going to start doing schoolwork again...because a month-long break is a bit disorienting. I just realized I seriously wandered around aimlessly for a whole fucking month. But looking back, it was all it should've been. I really look back fondly at times like...going to Baskin Robbins with the princesses on Christmas night. It's so random and fun, and I always feel like the acceptance from those guys is unconditional. My time in St. Louis was well-spent... I especially liked the HOURS I spent reading ancient Trivial Pursuit cards to myself. Half the deck had questions at least mentioning the existence of "The USSR". I really wish some of those questions were all-out prehistoric, like... "what's the most common housepet?" and then the answer is "the triceratops". I got some great clothes this break (lavender shirt, represent), and I got in touch with Sex and the City like it was required reading. Ahhh. Memmoorrieees (gay song from Cats plays).
My goal for this month is to do more forward-looking and more reaching out. Alyssa and I just talked about joining an intramural sport like badminton, and so I hope that shit goes through. I want to meet more people and have more friends at Iowa, and joining a sport would be a great way to meet people that enjoy friendly competition (or dirty, mean competition, whatev, I can do that shit too, yo, watch out). Basically, I just know there's more happening out there in this place than I'm letting myself get involved in, and I'll be damned if I sit here forever and just think "Well...Phil...that was...kind of something." Screw ruts, I'm going all out. Unless there's tough directions, then I'm fucked. Helen Keller in a blizzard has a better chance than I do. Hopefully sometime this term, I can at least see the possibility of a new relationship happening. A genuine one, not a "this will surely fill my voids!" one. Now's as good a time to grow up as ever, and I hope I do it happily, crazily, and not-very-obsessively. Staying out of ruts is another big goal this term. It's easy to get cooped up in this dorm... I mean look at me updating this shit till 2 AM. I've barely said a word to anybody outside my close circle of friends here at Iowa...already I'm being a hermit. Though I'm giving myself credit for the first day back. It's kind of tricky at first... adjustment period is a bitch. I've also got Acting I and History of Jazz to look forward to, and I'm hoping those bring great rewards, and I hope they turn me into a hipster. Also, Burge cafeteria is renovated and has like...a new room made entirely out of cake or some shit (okay I made that up), but maybe that's my cue to step away from blahness and way into new things. I've gotta get way into stuff, you know what I mean? It's time to fucking try new things, I'm in fucking college. Alright, I'm a bit flustered at getting situated still, and it's 2 AM, I think I'll close here. Next entry I'll write less about the routine and more about the Louis Virtel innerworkings, I think. It's like a goddamn bullfight in there. A sexy matador one on side and an intense, crazy-ass bull also. There you have it, that's Louis. Haha, how... scary! Alright, let's bond like none other and reach out and up and love it all without condition. I'm always here for y'all, thanks for being there for me.
Love you guys oh so fucking much. Xoxo, you hos,
Louis.
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