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Alanis Morissette "You Learn (acoustic)" |
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Oh, DJ and DJ-associated world, hello. So good and so necessary to be back right now. It has been one of those ridiculous, occasionally fun, occasionally daunting weeks of adjustment. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it all other than I am sailing through it, and having some fun along the way. My roommate arrived on Saturday, and since he's come it's been a total 180 from the rest of my time spent here. Actually, there is so much to talk about, so without further ado, I'm going to get really systematic and just go chronologically through the past few days. Hopefully I can get through a bigger entry without shutting it down early... I do have class tomorrow at 8:30, and I'm also just having difficulty focusing for some reason. Probably that I still haven't figured out where all my classes are or that I haven't worked on the info I need to get to my editor for tomorrow. Also, I'm thinking of switching my science class because the one I'm currently in, Technology & Society, may drain the life out of my beautiful body. So anyway, I'm distracted, but I'm here, and it's time to rewind. Love you, thank you for being here with me. Let's roll.
Few days ago, like Thursday or so, I was still all by myself in good old #E132. I'd spent some of the day hanging with Alyssa, which was of course very nice, but I couldn't just harass her to hang out with me all day every day, so I went for a walk around Iowa City with my cd player and my The Very Best of Sheryl Crow in tow. It's weird because I don't know how I feel about doing things like "taking walks by myself." It wasn't a bore or that depressing or anything... but it's not like I necessarily need shitloads of time to myself to sort out my hectic life or anything like that. More so, I think I'd appreciate going for walks if I felt like I had a healthy, abounding social life to coexist with my time alone. I ended up walking down the entirety of Iowa Avenue and eventually up and back through the park area by Currier. I've certainly been getting my share of Sheryl Crow lately. I skip a lot of the cd, but there are some mainstays... like "Soak Up the Sun," "Steve McQueen," "A Change Would Do You Good," "Picture," (shut up, I decided it was sincere and sweet), along with a few songs that stand out to me as the best of the bunch, namely "The First Cut is the Deepest," "All I Wanna Do," and "Light in Your Eyes." "Light in Your Eyes" may as well be the official anthem of summer given how many times I heard it at Chipain's. I don't think Sheryl Crow is the best of the best, but I think her music and attitude are relaxing and fun. I agree with Rachel that she'd probably be fun to shop with. That doesn't mean I'm kicking my permanent superstar shopping partner, Kylie Minogue, to the curb. I love "The First Cut is the Deepest." I think for a song with as basic a structure as it has, it's very sweet, and I think there's a great amount of vulnerability in Sheryl's voice. It sounds like she's telling you how she's feeling and being appreciative that you're listening, and that may not sound at all novel, but I think it's what my favorite music is generally about. So anyway, that night I listened to my cd player and sat on some swings. It was quiet but calming. Not to say I need to be calmed down after all the, oh, TV watching and hanging out I do the rest of the day, but you know, sometimes getting out and walking around a town in circles makes me feel like I'm actually going somewhere as opposed to sitting and sedating myself into hibernation. In retrospect, I loved that night.
Since I've been back at school, I've been watching Bravo nonstop. There's not even too many fantastic shows on it (which is apparent since they show the same episodes of the same shows about five times a day), but I have one definite new favorite. It's called Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List, and I love the hell out of it. Basically it's about Kathy, her bitchy commentary, and the labor-of-love that is a life in stand-up comedy. Her humor is so refreshing. It's hearing someone who understands that celebrities and Hollywood are full of shit but also isn't jaded about it. Her knowledge doesn't give her a tired, disillusioned attitude, rather it makes her love Hollywood's ridiculousness more, and she fully participates in the festivities. I hope to be as bitchy... someday. I know, some goals are just too fucking lofty, right? But let's see... Friday afternoon, Rachel arrived in Iowa City because she was staying at a Coralville hotel that night. Already this was strange because I'd just learned that my brother Jim would be in Iowa City at some point that weekend as well. So at that time I was in disbelief that so many random people from my life were in the same random-ass place as I was. Anyway, though, it was a blast to have Rachel over, and we chatted it up for awhile before calling over Alyssa. The three of us visited Lauren in her dorm room (the very tall #N025 on the ground floor of Currier), and she and her parents were unpacking her things. Weirdest thing was realizing that Maggie and Kinzy live in the room right next door to Lauren. How coincidental and strange. Anyway, Rachel, Alyssa, and I lounged around there before Lauren's parents left with teary-eyed hugs. From there we rounded up Lauren and went to the Pita Pit where she could be initiated into the hip pita culture of Iowa City. Many laughs and good times were had there, and they continued further in Whitey's, where I got a delicious hot fudge sundae that everyone in three counties was jealous of. We partied back in my room for awhile, and I decided I loved the combo that is Rachel-Alyssa-Lauren-Louis. Everyone there had such a great sense of humor, and we all communicated easily. This sounds like something that shouldn't (again) be a novel idea, but after begrudgingly meeting new people and forcing my way through sometimes awkward conversation, I have a new love for comfortable, easy group conversations. Unfortunately Rachel's mom called and she had been drafted to go to school in Grinnell the next day, so her mom came by and picked her up. She's doing the college thang on her own with nobody from Lemont at her school, so I totally salute her there. She's just beginning the whole-new-life thing, so she's adjusting and readjusting and mis-adjusting right now. Oh the drama and trauma. Love her to death... I hope she finds the intellect and chutzpah to match her own. Soon after Rachel left, Alyssa left to go to some party or something social like that. That left me and Lauren, and since I figured Phil was at his dorm room, we quickly jaunted up to Stanley. He wasn't there, but his cordial roommmate was there, so we said "what's up" and headed back out. Eventually we settled in my room and left Bravo on for awhile... and then we had a really good conversation about all our favorite people, the past, and what was to come. She's so cool and friendly; I'm completely psyched she's at my school and living so close. We have similar sensibilities about people too, I think. She headed out at about 1 AM, and I went to bed soon after. The next day would be a big one.
Strange how this already feels like a long time ago. Alyssa and I went out to the IMU and bought some things. (I got another black ink cartridge for my printer and a couple books for class... against my own advice of waiting till the first lecture). We also stopped by some strange little shops that have old toys and chairs and furniture. Basically they were places filled with little trinkets you'd find if you emptied the house from The Others. "Creepy" would be an okay word to describe this. We also ate dinner at Pagliai's Pizza... which is just fucking good stuff. We topped the thing with Canadian bacon and sausage, and officially that's the most jock-esque thing I've eaten all year. We so didn't have enough cash money on us for a good tip, but our waitress was kind about it. I got to take the carryout pizza home too. My brother Jim dropped my dorm room to drop off some things I left at home just before he went to Scott Festin's party to get wasted. Sometimes I have so much in common with my brothers. It's scary!
But guys, that night, my roommmate moved in. I was so right in thinking he was an upstanding, young-Senator type guy. Drew fucking has pictures of himself meeting senators of different states. I'm sorry, could we just take a moment to think about how precious that all is. If Drew were a smidgen blacker, he might be Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Too bad he is boring and white :( . Drew hauled all of his stuff (poster of Gandhi included) into my... err, I mean our room, and together we started to construct the futon we got. I was the apprentice during the operation... handing over nuts and bolts and asking questions like, "Is this thing on backwards?" and "Do you like Alanis Morissette?" He was a bit put off by my vulgarity, which... kind of makes me wonder, but at the same time he does have a sense of humor. And he is a self-proclaimed makeout slut, a factoid I didn't expect to hear. Another thing: he hates playing any kind of game. To quote: "They're just not my idea of a good time." Lauren probably asked the best question: "Did you have a traumatic game experience as a child?" His friends showed up soon enough, along with Lauren herself, and we walked around for awhile before settling down in a room and playing Uno. I so lost. Lauren won, and then someone had the bright idea to keep playing until another player went out. In short, we were playing for like another half hour. Talk about throwing caution to the wind: we all (including this girl Julie Lamer who = my new hug buddy) went to a house party on Burlington, which wasn't too bad. No one at the party really mingled with other groups, but we had a fun enough time standing in a circle and making fun of things. I sipped Drew's beer... word, that shit never gets very good. If I will soon drink more often (which actually probably won't happen), I will definitely be a bitch-drink connoisseur. I don't even care what that does to my reputation as a hard-assed, beercan guzzling lumberjack... sissy drinks taste good. I'm into that.
Today I had a meeting at The Daily Iowan, and although I had no real story ideas, I got officially assigned the theatre beat as my area of reporting. That makes my job a little simpler, I'd say. I was also assigned another cover story for the 80 Hours section of the paper. That means I now have two cover stories in the cannon, and I really can't do much with either of them until I get more info from my editor or interviewees. Exciting, yes, but also wearying and frightening. I just don't want to fuck any of it up or end up doing a sub-par job because I need to rush it all together at the last second. I'm very conscious of my ass being on the line every time I do or don't take stories at the paper... but I'm still unaware as to how the editor or her associates are viewing me. Guess they can't really make a judgment until I finally write something that gets published, so until then I'm afraid I'm in the dark. My giant Dance Gala story needs to be in on Tuesday morning of next week... which is so fucking great because the auditions are the previous night. This means I'm working my typing fingers to the bone that Monday night trying to get all of my shit together. I'd really much rather be doing the film review beat, but unfortunately I think I have to work my way up to that position. A super-nice girl came up to me after our meeting saying that if I ever needed help with contacts in the theatre department, she could totally help me out. I so appreciate people reaching out like that. She'll have a lot of information I could use again and again. People helping people... mmmm MMMM. Later this evening, I went with Lauren and our new troop of friends (including my roomie Drewy, his friend Andy, this guy Max, hug-buddy Julie, another girl Lindsay, and an engineer dude whose name escapes me right now) to the barbecue in Hubbard Park. I can still taste that half-cooked hot dog now. Tastes like new beginnings! We walked around the park for a bit, and Lauren and I even tried the Plinko game in the back. We guessed that at least one of us would win the cheap-ass trinket prize, but no, Lauren won a possible trip to the "Cash Cube" where she gets to stand in a box and catch flying money, and I got, ummm... an ID holder. Fuck you too. On our way out of the park, Phil ran up to me and Lauren and asked us to join him on a trip to Whitey's. Lauren and I didn't get anything, but Phil got a huge frozen yogurt banana split (without a banana, oddly enough). He's an odd person to talk about here. I know he doesn't read my journal, and I know he doesn't care to. But I do have to say, I'm not sure how much I can tolerate Phil's over-the-top, insistent way of socializing. He's so blatant and extroverted, yet it all feels compensatory for something else that he doesn't know how to deal with. Like maybe he feels permanently disconnected from people and that's his way of making himself seem like he fits in. The bottom line, and I don't say this to be crass, is that he doesn't. He never puts his actual feelings on the table, and he never is able to allow silence to happen in conversation. It's like he feels his credibility as a normal, likeable person is constantly at stake. It's strange to me now, and it's always been strange to me, really. For a year now I've been acknowledging from time to time all the disconnected puzzle pieces that make up this Phil character, and really, I haven't gotten anywhere. If you can believe it, I do love Phil. Really. I love him for the genuine person I think he is trying not to be. At heart, I don't think Phil is at all an extrovert or even light-hearted. At heart he is a sad, misinformed, scared guy who never learned to either feel at ease with people or feel like a member of the human race. When I confront him about how he's feeling or why he doesn't like ever being alone, he seems too violated about it, and he replies with something over-assured and defensive. I don't think people that are in touch with their feelings reply to simple, sincere questions in that manner. It's also just weird to me that after knowing this guy for so long I never feel like I've seen him be vulnerable. Rather, I've never seen him consciously allow himself to be vulnerable. He makes himself such a caricature of a human being... and when he does that, he makes conversation so exhausting and even annoying. He incessantly talks about himself to compensate for having so little common ground with others to talk about... but when he does talks about himself, he isolates the other person in the conversation. It's as if he's talking to a brick wall, not expecting a response so much as he's expecting to prove to himself that he is normal and reasonable and fitting-in. Granted he is fun to go out and do things with, I just don't know much more of this desperation, immaturity, and lack of awareness I can take. I seem to have tolerated it more than many people have, and I don't even know if tolerating his behavior is at all the friendliest gesture. I didn't want to speak to him all weekend, and running into him today was a surprise that didn't really thrill me. But I do love him. I really do. I just don't think he'll soon be the lovable person (not a caricature) that is under all of his insistence, feigned self-confidence, false reasoning, and overcompensatory chattiness. He's different from someone like Joe Deardurff, because at least Joe could be reached on a certain level. Like if you bargained hard enough, Joe could fess up and see eye to eye with you. Phil is so adamantly unreachable and on his own planet that it's like... taking the trip to get that planet is exhausting enough. In order to connect with him, I have to forfeit too many sincere ways of connecting and just try to trick him into being honest, and frankly, I don't want to spend time scheming that shit together. Love him though. I just can't handle him.
And oh man, it is officially past midnight, and that means I have class in eight and a half hours. Tomorrow it's lecture and section for History of Theatre and Drama, and it's also my lecture and discussion for Journalistic Writing and Reporting. I don't look forward to the disorienting, perhaps even depressing realization of the giant workload of classes, but... I know there's a lot to embrace within it all. A lot of growth, a lot of pushing myself with a friendly hand into new territory. "Exciting but scary" seems to be a motif in this damn journal. "Scary" isn't necessarily the word, actually, more like "daunting," yet again. Hard to tell which of these classes I'm looking forward to most. Journalistic Writing and Reporting seems like a beast, though you know, so was Acting I, I guess. And God do I now love that class and Meredith Alexander like it's my job. I guess I look forward to jumping into the classes that are focused on what the rest of my born days may soon be centered around. My theatre class sounds interesting, but frankly I really have to get over myself and just learn to read books without having spazzes of ADD every ten seconds. Seriously, when I read for long periods of time, I'm reminded of distracting things too easily. I start thinking about things like, "That reminds me of when we did Witness for the Prosecution" or "Remember when Joe used to pull shit like that?" or "I am funnier than this. Hell, the retards at No Shame are funnier than this." I need to save judgments for after I read, really. Sadly, it's that ADD that probably prevented me from being an English major. An English major could probably get you more jobs than a journalism major. But oh well. I am a writer. Write on, I will.
I just listened to Jagged Little Pill Acoustic twice in a row, and man am I loving it. There's something about it, however, that's a little extravagent. Like the production and all the thousands of guitars on each track. It may as well not be acoustic, you know? One reviewer noted that the producer of the record, Glen Ballard "never met a production board he couldn't overdub a few more times." Still though, Alanis lays it on the line more than anyone else out there. She is the superstar role model for Louis to end all others. Don't be offended, Madonna, I still have more posters of you.
Also today I chatted on the phone with both Rachel and my mother. Rachel, again, is gaining footing in Grinnell (slowly but somehow surely), and my mom is doing her thing back at home. We talked about people problems, and it was really enlightening. We got to talking about my mom's times back in the University of Virginia psych ward, and you know, psychotic people are just funny sometimes. Quote from Gloria: "There was this strange girl... I think she was on medication. She was very sweet, and she said one day she liked my shirt. So she stole it. She would even wear it in front of me. It was hers." Another of my favorite tidbits of the conversation: "When I had bulimia, the doctor said to me, 'Maybe you should go into the food industry... seeing as how you like food so much.'" UMMM MAYBE NOT. Is that somewhat like telling an anorexic person to join the diet industry? I thought that was really funny... of course it was probably ridiculous at the time it happened, but meh, who even cares about what happened in 1974? The world technically started spinning in mid 1986, so everything before that seems like trivia.
But alright, I gotta get going. I have class tomorrow, and Drew seems to be closing up shop on the other side of the room. Love you guys so much, thanks for tuning me in and taking care of me. Your you-ness is so appreciated, and I know you are probably going through many changes yourself as we plow right into the beginning of this sure-to-be storybook schoolyear. So many things going through me during this adventurous time... hope you will continue to be surfing with me as we rule these waves with our heads up high and our whole selves out in the open. Thanks for keeping an open mind and being so accepting and consummate and loving. We belong together, just like Mariah keeps saying. And for now I must depart. Bye my beautiful compadres.
Dipping my toes into brand new water (though it smells a little like beer). Xoxo,
Louis.
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