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Gwen Stefani "Rich Girl" |
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Hey there, everyone, I really should be getting to sleep for Meredith Alexander's oh-so-precious Acting I class, but it's come to the point where I almost can't bear to part with the DJ for more than four days without getting a lump in my stomach like I haven't fully been in touch with how I'm feeling about things as a whole. It's really too easy to get caught up in the stream of work and monotony and patented-Louis-Virtel-neuroses... and it's about time to get that shit off my shoulders.
First things first, I have listened to the Cathy Dennis song "All Night Long (Touch Me)" a good fifteen times this week... thank you cdzlimited.net for your continued ignorance of the law. But anyway, where to begin but by saying I kind of can't believe I'm at the beginning of my second semester of school. I say that with a negative connotation, like I can't believe I'm still fucking here learning shit. When I went home for winter break in mid-December, I think I'd gotten the idea that I was done educating myself for good or something. Now I'm here a month later, and all the sudden I have five new classes, and I'm barely even concentrating on them... I'm too dumbstruck at the thought of being here another four months again. God, I guess the bottom line is... I'm sick of this place. Rather, I'm sick of my way of living while I'm here. I like my friends here a lot, but I don't like feeling so out-of-touch with myself so often... and I sure don't like that feeling that I'm just meandering through what seems like a difficult semester. Maybe I'm being overdramatic or something, but I really don't feel like I exercise much or any of the passion I've wanted to express since I've come to Iowa... and I think part of the problem is my lack of really superclose friends here (and I sure hate that I have used that excuse for oh, five months now), and just... I don't know, I simply can't make myself want to become part of the Iowa scene. On top of all this, I couldn't feel more disorganized at the moment. Not only do I feel like I'm writing this entry in random fashion, but I just feel like I'm being swallowed up by confusion, not really fighting it much. I did get my internet back, thank God... I would've thrown a hissyfit if the folks at ITS didn't fix that shit... but still, the grind of classes seems unreal. Acting I, History of Jazz, Language & Formal Reasoning, and Earth History & Resources all individually feel like boatloads of work. That wouldn't be as huge an issue to me as it is except my current level of detachment from things makes the chore of schoolwork that much more daunting. I've debit-carded my ass off this week, buying all of my books except for my textbook for motherfucking Earth History, which apparently is out to kick my ass with its hundred dollar text book of death. All the used copies had been sold out... and so far I have yet to bring myself to paying the hundred dollars for the damn book. Not like I won't have money left in my savings or anything, but... I dunno, Alyssa bought the book used for 20 BUCKS, and now I'm just going to feel like a retard if I have to pay 100 for it. If worst comes to worst, I'll get it, but so far Alyssa and I are sharing. Wooo mooching.
Wow, for some reason or another, I feel like I have sixty thousand things to get off my chest. Hmmm, quick review I suppose... Friday I hung out with my troupe of badass females (Maggie, Kinzy, Kristina), and we went to Rentertainment (where I picked up an application... please God, give me money), and we rented Spellbound. This isn't the Alfred Hitchcock one from like, 1941... though I sure do miss that movie and its stellar, definitely-not-fake skiing scene where Ingrid Bergman casually descends huge-ass slopes while looking about as if she's not thinking about it... but no, we rented the documentary from a couple years ago also called Spellbound. It's about a bunch of kids who qualify for the national spelling bee in Washington DC and their training and personal stories of getting to and participating in the bee. One thing I can say about this movie is that its one of a kind, because the Spelling Bee world exemplifies all the things that normal kids shouldn't have to deal with... things like the desire for artificial perfection, the determination to beat everyone else as a means of being able to accept oneself, parents that live vicariously and maliciously through their kids. One kid named Neil was my favorite... he was virtually an emotionless, oiled machine spewing the spellings of ridiculous words... he had a father who worked his impressionable little brain to the bone. We're talking about a dad who speed-reads words to his kid, expecting his robot of a son to spell the words back as quickly as he read them. Jesus, it's seeing someone being taught that being himself isn't good enough... that "acceptance" only comes through trying to attain an acceptable status. I think one of the kids should've been named Jonbenet just to put the whole fucking thing in perspective. Anyway, it was an interesting view, I recommend it. Some of the kids were pretty funny, and you definitely pick a favorite contestant when you watch the film.
The next night, I chilled out in my room for awhile, catching up on homework. You know you're in for a wild night when you set yourself up for a good four hours of Real World/Road Rules: Battle of the Sexes 2 (who can't wait for the finale? Go guys' team). After a lengthy night of being a hermit, I walked outside to the hallat 10:30 to see a pack of people wearing winter gear, prepared to head outdoors. One of them was Sarah from my floor, and she asked if I wanted to go sledding. I don't really remember my reaction, but as far as I remember I was immediately delighted, ran inside, grabbed my coat, and went with Kinzy to follow the people already outside. With some apparently stolen saucers from Stanley, we walked to the back parking lot of Currier and searched for hills to sled down. Kinzy made a mad-dash to a dinky hill filled with pointy twigs, and she flung herself down the hill on a saucer... it was like watching a puppy go mad. Molly, Sarah, and I laughed for like three minutes at Kinzy before attempting to climb a 40 foot high steep-ass slope. It was so steep we just went halfway up and sledded down. Jesus Christ, the slope of that hill was enough to nearly send my scared little lily-ass all the way to the river... it was fucking majestic. Our group descended the hill a few times before Kinzy and I called it quits, climbed the entire hill, and went inside. The occasion was really memorable, and I'm glad there was something to break up my seemingly humdrum Saturday.
Today was similarly low-key... starting off with breakfast/lunch/I don't eat regular meals anymore/whatever with Alyssa and Tess. Those two are cute; Tess was pretty delightful, nice to finally sit and chat with her perfectionist ass again. Also, I chatted with Rachel on the phone for an hour or so, which was easily the best part of the day. I don't thank her enough for hearing my same old whining over and over again. God, where the hell are the Rachel Fields here at Iowa? Did you take them? Are they in the same place all the sane gay people are? Where the hell are they? Moving on, I went to dinner at the Hamburg Inn with Alyssa, Meghan, Patch, other Alyssa, Molly, and Adam... and that was a bit expensive, but definitely worth it, especially because we all got into a traditional discussion of old Nickelodeon shows. Shit, when Patch and I got to talkin' bout My Brother and Me, that's when the hardcore nostalgia started. "Goo punch" anyone? How about the idiot older sister Melanie who replied to her father's calling her style "flip flop" with: "That's hip hop, daddy, and no, this is fly." Hahaha! "Fly"? Thanks for the hot slang, babe, too bad you didn't get a second season to teach us more. Very good people, I <3 that dinner.
But I don't heart going to class tomorrow. The day's classes are spread out too far, and I can barely have any meals. In addition, I sure don't fucking heart this heater in my room, which makes noises that suggest there are little humans in the machine. Man... I'm entirely strung out right now... and I have to delve on my neuroses for a little bit now that I think of it: my favorite journal entry of the past year is going to be 20 entries old after I post this entry, and that fucking makes me sad, because now it won't be on the same page as all the new entires. Booo hooo, hooo. Oh well, like a rolling stone, I move on. Soon this week I hope I can post a more coherent entry where I can really settle down and write, but for now I have to hit the sick and get my memorization down for acting class. So until the next time we meet, hope you're having fun and loving the skin you're in. I'm doing my best, and I hope I can grow back into Iowa soon.
Disoriented but still lovin' y'all, xoxo,
Louis.
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