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Kylie Minogue "What Do I Have To Do (Remix)" |
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Hey there, hos and ho-asses. I know... it's been over a fucking week since the last update. Typical. Actually, no, I generally never get lazy to the point where an entire week passes between entries. I guess there's a first time for everything. I feel like a lump right now because I've eaten nothing but junk for the past few days... and I just topped it all off with some gorgeous Bacon-Cheddar Potato Skins. I figured out what the secret ingredient is to those things... you guessed it: class.
So oh man, where do I begin? First of all, let me reiterate for the eleven thousandth time that I wish I could write in this thing much more often. About my favorite thing to do is sit here, purge (I like to keep the garbage can right next to me), and breathe out for awhile. But anyway, that can't be news to you. Let's see, things really died down early last week after all my papers and tests were temporarily at bay. Don't worry, they came back, and they are pissed. I have a Language & Formal Reasoning test tomorrow... and actually, after just an hour of studying last night, I'm pretty ready for it. Also, I have a scene staging in Acting on Wednesday... my last one, fucking finally. I have a jazz concert to attend on Wednesday, and that'll be my last one for those... so far everything's seeming productive. I have my test in Cult Hist next Tuesday, then I'm done with that test for good. Man, things are really... tying up nicely around here. As of right now, it is two weeks and two days until my last final. Fucking incredible. I can't believe I'm almost done being a college freshman... but you know, it's one of those things where it feels like no time has passed and a shitload of time has passed. For instance, I don't feel like I've transformed too dramatically as a person or had any major personal trauma this school year, so in that sense, it doesn't feel like much time has passed. Still though, some things feel like an eternity ago... like my old way of life in Lemont. I'll surely be reliving that again in no time, but my oyster-of-a-world has been extended further than 75th Street, and I guess it can't go back. Weird. I bet I'll write more at length about this once I get home and can relate exactly how it feels to re-situate for over three months at a place I know like the back of my hand but is no longer where I live. It will be a bigger task to survive all the inevitable monotony and boredom of Lemont life. I look forward to it though... the good times of summer will surely roll out of control. There is so much Starbucks and misadventures-with-Laser on the horizon that how could I not look forward to partying it up?
But anyway, onto bigger news. Tonight I had my interview with the Arts editor at The Daily Iowan. She was pretty fucking casual... as in she spouted off the word "fucking" like she was Clark prattling off about "journalistic integrity." It was simultaneously refreshing and unsettling... because casual people are always good, but at the same time, my future job is on the line, and I don't know how casual I'm allowed to be. So she asked about what I wanted to contribute, and I said I wanted to do critique of any sort and add an actor's perspective to theatre critique. I don't think I majorly fucked up anywhere... once or twice I spent a few seconds searching for the right word to explain myself, but I think that's pretty forgivable. After the interview, I was given the facts for a fictitious story about a car crashing into Panchero's (perish the thought!), and I had to do a small news story about it. I basically wrote a really short, concise account of the event. There was also a ridiculous question at the end of the story, like "Who do you call first when you hear about the story?" I wanted to reply like a smart-ass with something like, "The Ghostbusters," but I relented and put something cute and journalistic. I get a call about the job before May 1... wish me luck, y'all, this could mean big things for me. Like... a very steady, arduous job with little pay. I'll be all ready for real-life journalism!
The weekend was packed with interesting little moments here and there. On Friday, Kinzy, Kristina, and I made a diabolical plan to steal a dozen cookies from Burge and like four water bottles full of pop. What should've been an easy operation was made infinitely more challenging by Tony, our friend who works at Burge who kept coming over to our table. As if we weren't suspicious enough with our five our six glasses of pop and our pile of cookies. We didn't know how cool Tony would be with our plan... but after Kinzy, Kristina, and I couldn't take the suspense anymore, we just stole the stuff right in front of him. It was as simple as that. We stole all that shit so that we'd have some drinks and dessert to have with the pizza we ordered with Maggie. That was some good pizza... I ate about five eighths of a sausage pizza. All part of my scheme to never have the ability to gain weight.
Then, I went to the IMU (by my lonesome!) and saw Dat Phan, aka the winner of the first season of Last Comic Standing. You really would think it was difficult to make Asian jokes for like, 50 minutes. This man made it his mantra. He started off pretty well... but then his act became really repetitive, and he kept referencing prior jokes in such pointless fashion that I kind of just felt tired after awhile. Not to mention he KEPT doing his impression of his mother which was for NOT ONE SECOND at all funny. It was just abrasive, loud, and typical. When Margaret Cho imitates her mother, she doesn't smother you with her eccentricities for the entire duration of her show... she brings her up and gradually let's you get to know her. Dat Phan was just gratuitous about it. Afterwards there was a Q&A, and I asked him what his favorite comics were and who inspired him to become a comedian. Naturally he replied with something along the lines of "I studied Benny Hill, Jerry Seinfeld..." Oh, okay, you studied them. You studious little thing, you. You apparently didn't study any of Jerry's subtlety. Dat Phan also kept bringing up how the audience wasn't responding to him as much as the night went on. Jesus, Dat, could it be because our faces are all scorched from all the spitfire Asian impressions you've been doing since we walked in the door. All in all, I'd give his act a C-. It's exactly what you expect.
Later that night I went over to Donald's room, and he had his high school friend Rachael over (hmmmm, I sense a duel with her and Rachel Fields soon... we'll settle it with Mean Girls trivia). Well, Donald, Rachael, and I had a merry time kicking back as Donald did his best to scrape wax earplugs out of his ear. He resorted to drastic measures and had Rachael try to suck them out of his ear with a straw. I believe it was Thomas Paine who said, "These are the times that try men's souls." My soul was getting so tried. I chilled at Donald's till like 3:30, and during that time he showed me a few movies he'd shot and a couple of his favorite books... he even lent me a book on improvisation that was co-written by Del Close, the improv legend who trained Judy, the woman I babysit for. Haven't read much of it yet, but there's a Gilda Radner quote on the cover, and that means I'm already peeing myself. I walked home to Currier afterwards, and Alyssa had her two friends Alicia and John over. Oh my God, the three of them are priceless together. I was crying with laughter at one of their stories. Ended up getting to bed at 5:30 that night... nothing like starting Saturday at around 1 PM. At the break of noon.
I watched the majority of the play festival on Friday night before a friend from home showed up right in Iowa City... can you guess who? It was... Katie Erk! She was in town for a wedding and had time to stop by ole Currier. I had no idea how to be able to convey the pride of Iowa City to her... I did the best I could and took her to Whitey's. First of all, that's a badass ice cream shop. Second of all, it is CALLED WHITEY'S. After realizing that eating ice cream in the cold actually makes you freezing, we caught up with Alyssa, Molly, John, Sarah, and Christine for a trip to Sanctuary, a sweet little bar with dim, colored lighting and a jazz band. One guy in the band had the most beautiful upright bass I'd ever seen. It was comparable to the Red Violin (which is, by the way, a movie with one of the least redeeming endings I've ever seen). After our stint at Sanctuary, we srambled for things to do and visited Donald at his radio station. My buddy Erica from Cult Hist discussion was in attendance... and it was pretty surreal having Katie meet these peeps. It's so random. That's like when Rachel met Patrick Ashcraft. Worlds colliding freakily. Hmmm, Katie went home soon after that... and I spent my Sunday eating at the IMU and running around aimlessly.
And now the Achilles' tendon on my foot is itching like crazy. There is officially more going on in my Achilles' tendon than there is in most of Iowa. Hmmm, what else to say... a couple times this week I sat myself down at Microsoft Word and just wrote out exactly how I felt about college at that moment. It gets pretty sour fast... dig it: "Jesus, do I hate weekends here sometimes. I only like them because it means another week has past, and I’m one week closer to being the hell away from here. I wouldn’t mind dropping this whole fucking place. Why does it feel like real civilization doesn’t happen here? I feel apart from the world… who the HELL cares about Iowa? What on earth has ever happened here? I miss Illinois and Missouri. Very much thinking about my future here. If I’m not leaving, then significant changes have to be made."
Despite how anxiety-attack-heavy that all was, I really do end up feeling that way sometimes... especially when I'm bored, having nothing to do, get cooped up in the dorm room... I do feel more disconnected here than I feel I would in a bigger city. Iowa City doesn't feel like reality to me. However, when I'm being productive, I don't seem to mind my surroundings as much. That's probably a key concept there. Also, I am really motherfucking itchy right now. I must go and take my shower... big 9:30 lecture tomorrow. Sooner or later I am treating myself to a more fun, less the-week-in-review style entry. Speaking of treating myself, I have been playing shitloads of Wheel of Fortune lately. As my long lost twin Henry Winkler would say, "I still got it." I cut off my relationship with him after he jumped the shark. Good call, no?
Love you guys so so much, hope you're all keeping up the productivity, openness, and expressiveness. Full speed. Full force. Two more weeks of work and then the ridiculousness and ballpark franks and ghost-world lifestyle can all run my life yet again. I'm prepared to chortle at it all.
Heart, heart, heart, xoxo,
Louis.
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