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Kylie Minogue "Shocked" |
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Hello, hello. Look at me, guys, back in Iowa, already pretty far into my "job" as an intern for the newspaper... already sitting here with my fresh mountain of groceries and an A&W root beer. You'd be right if you thought my last couple days here have been less than momentous, if not fucking silent days of retreating quietly to my dorm and then going out to the Daily Iowan for a few minutes or so. This is not an ideal way to live for one Louis S. Virtel, because I sure get too wrapped up in my own head during circumstances where I'm forced to occupy myself alone for long periods of time. But I'll get to that... it is so party time in this DJ. It is Madonna's birthday (and therefore, all of our birthdays), so watch me and my definitely-being-worn-currently Lucky Star shirt as we zoom once again into the schoolyear DJ entries. Though we are kicking and screaming for the summer, we are too sexy for fear. I am talking like Diabolique right now... but you know, I dig.
Last week I worked quite a bit (God, this feels forever ago by now), and it was fine, and I was actually sad to say goodbye to it. Mind you on the last day I faked tears and cried out loud, "I am nothing without Peter." I hugged the cashier, Lisa, who went on for me after I clocked out for the last time. I have yet to pick up that check, and it should be something around a hundred sixty (which is a lot by Chipain's standards... there, you know my weekly income, I feel so vulnerable and ashamed). Saturday night I went out to dinner with Chipain's folks... we hung out in the back room of Lemont House, a Chinese restaurant in downtown Lemont. Carrie Tack, Karen, Terry, Janine from the deli, Rafa (yep, that old Rafa), Lisa, and Carrie B. were all there. It wasn't too awkward since Karen always had something to burst out with, but at the same time Karen's need to outburst proved there was some desperation to keep conversation going. Also, someone forgot to inform Carrie B. that Chinese food is made with peanut oil... and apparently Carrie B. forgot to remind us she's allergic to peanuts. It was secretly funny. When it came time to hug Karen goodbye, I couldn't believe how actually sad I was. Despite Karen's ridiculousness, she is full of love, and she was way nice. Can't say the same for you, shit-eating Stephanie. You will soon be a star at No Shame theatre.
I went to Feej's play on Friday... it was a very good production, full of excellent costumes and some great acting. I liked the lead... though I guess I resent people who act like model students of Meredith Alexander... going through the motions of the correct "acting process". Don't even ask why. Chatted with Feej afterwards... she did a great job, and she wore a sexy little outfit when she played a prostitute. I think the whole P-Club needs similar outfits. Also, props to me for getting to Feej's show without getting lost. The night afterwards, post-Chipain's dinner, I hung out with Rachel for a little while. We went to BR and had our usual fireside chat. Rachel being Franklin Roosevelt and all. The night ended semi-early since I needed to pack up my whole fucking room. Very sad to part with skankface... though she will be sort of nearby in the near future, so if things get rough, I can always jump a freight train to her pad. But there are more fun times to come. I guess it's just time for us to be grownups for a little while... or teenage assholes in disguise, whichever.
Gloria and I drove to Iowa on Sunday since the DI requested me back by Monday at 2:30. I'll be damned, the sign on the door of Currier says "Currier will be opened at 8 AM on Monday." Well, shit. I ran into Carole from the play I did about a year ago, and she tried to pull a couple strings for us, but no, her dragonling powers were not enough. Mom and I got a hotel room at the IMU, and the guy who picked us out a place was the most monotone, quiet thing ever. With little else to do, my mom and I went off to Coralville and ran around at the mall. We had Panera and went on the second Target run of the day specifically so she could have something to wear the next day. Also that night we saw Wedding Crashers which I sure didn't know was an R-rated movie... those countless boobs sure made me look cool sitting next to my mother. However, even that aside, I thought the movie was fucking awful. I think Vince Vaughn's humor is comparable to people in high school who see other people be funny and then try to copy them so they can look cool. I thought Rachel MacAdam was wasted in her role; I thought Jane Seymour's part was ridiculous; I thought the grandmother was SO unfunny; I thought both stories of "romance" were simultaneously cliched and senseless; I thought the asshole boyfriend was so completely a villain that anyone marrying him seemed entirely unfeasible. Also, there is one scathingly offensive scene with the stereotypically freakish gay character so appalling that I wanted to leave the theatre. It was so mean-spirited and unfunny. I actually think it's one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time... because here's the thing with screwball comedies. Screwballish people are funny... lame-asses are unfunny. Vince Vaughn is a lame-ass. Bam.
The next day Mom and I unpacked all my shit, and that took three and a half hours (even though the kind folks at Currier finally let us use the back elevator. Viva the goddamn revolution). We took one last trip to the Coralville Mall for hangers in my room and Subway... and then Gloria dropped me off, and I cried. I think she cried too, probably because she knows I'm not very good at making myself happy throughout this whole college business. Nonetheless, I went to my DI meeting, and it was a lot of people pitching ideas for the arts section. Except it's suckier than it seems because if you suggest a column, you just get on it right afterwards. I pitched filler ideas like a story about Duarte Dance Works or Dance Gala (only because I needed something to say, and I knew it was current because Phil is in Duarte). I'll be damned, a day and a half later, I'm writing a soon-to-be cover story about the audition process at Dance Gala. I'm sorry. I just arrived at Iowa. Give me time to eat at the Pita Pit. I was scared to even use the phone to ask questions to people in the Dance Department, but eventually it wasn't much of a problem. For instance, I called Alan Senet, director of Dance Gala. Believe it or not, gay men in power love to talk. I have a lot more work to do on the project, but I'm excited... my story will be personal and fun.
Not so fun is the fact that I left my cell phone charger somewhere (probably at home... or in the van), and now I need a new one. I tried to buy a new one today, and paid for it only to find the thing didn't charge my phone at all. Luckily, I got my money back, although it took three damn trips to Old Capitol Mall to set straight. I also didn't get my editor all the info she wanted, so I'm stressing about that. In addition, I am exhausted and need to get to bed because tomorrow, Alyssa and I are shopping in Coralville. Finally I can get the damn cell phone charger and be connected to the vast world of voicemail again.
I'll update again shortly... this week is superslow, I should find a way to get back here... especially during the weekend. But alright, bye for now, love you, love you, and if you're the praying sort, pray for me. It is hard to re-adjust to this placde, and I've got a long way to go.
Love to love you, bay-bee,
Louis
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