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Sheryl Crow "A Change Would Do You Good" |
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That's right, "getaway" all the way to the DJ. Sheryl had the same thing in mind, I'm sure.
Hey there, DJ and associates. Look at me once again getting to this thing more than a week after I last updated. I must've posted entries a grand total of three times in September, which I think is an all-time low. No time to delve on such statistics though... I'm actually feeling great, albeit weary of three upcoming articles I need to write (boring ones, no less) and a test to prepare for on Monday. Also, I can't find my fucking phone, and I just had the thing a second ago. Lord do I love having anxiety attacks over shit like this, because I get ideas such as, "I know while my phone is missing I'm going to get the call saying I made Wheel of Fortune. I know Vanna is going to be the one to make the call." Louis, chill, no one's probably calling. And you could use any available excuse to get a new, less-medieval phone. I've checked fucking everywhere for it, and I seriously have no idea where it is. God help me.
I'm struggling amidst all this frustration to look back on the past week's highlights, but it really is time to settle down. Last Friday was of course the day Alyssa and I had our foray into Grinnell. We had a spirited drive there full of Martha & the Vandellas and "Stacy's Mom" and Wheat Thins. Also, it was very apparent to the both of us how much fall was setting in. Sky was a little darker, weather a little colder... everything was just "hoodie-er". We arrived without a hitch at Grinnell... and upon meeting and hugging Rachel, we went off to meet her BF Geoff (that rhymes) and Bryan, her supernice, geek-chic friend. Before that, however, Rachel, Alyssa, and I came across a group of kids in a field playing a game with foam swords, bows and arrows, and other dungeons-and-dragons paraphernalia. Rachel said the game had a name, but I opted to call it "Sissies in a Field". It was this incredibly organized, stringently guidelined game where people enacted a "touch-football" version of combat. Despite any good intentions the game had, it was a bunch of white, geeky kids in a field, and for that reason it also looked like a KKK rally. Good for them though... people (sexually?) into swordplay have desperately needed a place to congregate for years, so they're progressive that way. Geoff was among the players in the game, and against all odds, I thought he was really nice. Really considerate too, and he had a good sense of humor. We also met Sally, Rachel's sassy theatre friend who apparently toned down in the presence of sassmaster Louis, but I could tell she ruled. After a quick tour of campus, game of frisbee, and the meeting of a boy named "Lynn," the three of us jaunted back to Iowa City. There is no better way to celebrate the escape from Burge than eating at Steak N Shake. We gorged ourselves on the greasy, beautiful food... and I got some tasty chicken pieces, as is my way, joined by an orchestra of shoestring fries and what could be the best milkshake I've had in a year. It was a Turtle Caramel Fudge thing... and it's loving embrace touches me even now. It's like my old babysitter in that way. By this time, it was pretty dark out, and for that night it felt like full-fledged autumn. I don't even know why I keep trying to hammer home this idea that fall is coming... but it's fucking weird to me how much time is slipping by. I am a sophomore in college, and I am a month and a half into the school year. Maybe I'm just amazed at how much I'm not caught up... like I still think it's winter 2004 somehow. It's hard to live in the moment when you're not exactly caught up with the fucking moment. Oh well, I push on. Anyway, Rachel and I went up to the Stanley building and bugged my now-former roommate Drew and then Phil. Phil was of course a whirlwind/kind-of-a-nightmare of skittishness. Rachel and I both insisted on seeing him though, because he's an essential part of the Iowa City trip. But after that, we hit the Iowa City streets, not particularly looking for anything besides perhaps the apartment building of my crush, but that venture was half-assed. Creepy as hell too, but we've all done worse things I'm sure. Nightlife in Iowa City was of course priceless, and there were enough drunk people to ensure that firm sense of IC majesty. Lauren Neybert really should've been present, but no, she had crap to do back in Lemont (like a bitch... that I heart). Went back to the dorms soon after, and Rachel started to relax on the spare loft in my room, and in minutes she was asleep. I hit the hay as well, and the next day we had an epic convo in the Burge cafeteria. What can I even say, the ambience must've inspired us. We kicked back in the dorm again afterwards, and this time we reacquainted ourselves with our favorite TV theme songs via the wacky world of internet. We found a twangy, weird version of the One Day at a Time theme, which I fucking didn't appreciate because I miss that show so much, and for the wizards at TVthemesongassholes.com to play the wrong version was traumatic. For everyone. For just me. Rachel and I hit up Alyssa's house for a bit, and we all tinkered with our cell phones and laughed about it. God, remember when I knew where my cell phone was? Those were the fucking days.
I was also strung out about tests and papers this week... I had a test in Tech & Society that was not the gen-ed-science-snoozefest it should've been, and the guidelines for the ethics paper in Legal & Ethical were vague. Nevertheless, I finally discovered my Tech & Society test grade on the very-sneaky WebCT, and oh my God, I actually got an A. I was really fucking surprised, because there was a lot of shit about x-rays and mercury and halons that I had no clue about. I basically raised the roof and then threw it at Professor Eckey. Teach me about global warming now, ho. I have yet to receive word on the Legal paper. Guess what though, I decided Legal & Ethical is my favorite class. It's not too time-consuming, but the information learned is so valuable. I actually enjoy doing case briefs. When in your life did you ever think you'd hear Louis Virtel say he enjoys case briefs? That shit is up Lee T's alley, not Louis'. And what else... I did a couple articles for the paper earlier this week, which were basic and short. I need to have another 80 Hours cover soon, because I'm losing any prominence I could have at this paper. Also, I am in dire need of a paycheck from this place of supposed employment. Being able to buy groceries without selling my fingers would be great.
Thursday night was a crazy one. Well, tame, really, but crazy in terms of meeting up with people and shit. First of all, Kiki, our old friend Elise, and I rewarded ourselves with Chili's in Coralville. Naturally I copped a haughty pose about the whole situation, proclaiming, "I must save money, I won't be buying a meal, just chips and salsa... because I am responsible and have contempt for reckless consumers." One giant fajita pita later, and I have zero willpower. It was good to at least try something new... Lauren really turned me off to the Chicken Crispers when she remarked how bombastically greasy they are. That doesn't mean I'm through with them for good. Definitely not. Kiki hung out in my room with me and chatted for awhile. She is so awesome, y'all. She couldn't be more engaging or honest or sweet. Or funny, for that matter. We're studying for our theatre test together tomorrow, so laughs and study-headaches will be happening again, just like in the Lit of Rome days. After she headed out to a show, I conferenced with Lauren in her room about life and Lauren's period. As you can imagine, it was pretty emotional. I jetted back to my room and, in some strange moment of inspiration, called Phil to come over and watch TV. He eventually did, but of course Phil was being a spectacle. He needed to show me his abs that he had been working on for a performance, and so that was our version of bonding. We started chatting about my crush, who am I getting so tired of expending any thought on. Then we concluded I needed to message him despite any "stalker" implication I may give off. Look, Crushy, I am a card-carrying outlaw, and I am by law allowed to seek out anyone I want without getting shit about it. I like how I assume Crushy knows his nickname is Crushy. So I messaged him a bullshit question about a test grade, and he messaged back succinctly but nicely. Wasn't a victory for the home team in the end, but it was at least a form of one-on-one communication. I am really strapping for ideas at this point. Either Crushy needs to gain some sense of what the fuck is going on and then go out of his way to say what's-up to me, or I need to just find something else to do. Uggh. Hate that I can't find a way to contrive some sort of casual way of talking to him. Hate that none of this has to do with him as a person so much as it has to do with him being cute. Times like this I should be a smoker. But I'm not! Take that, Eric Forst, you are going to lose this bet. Send that fifty dollars this way, Communication Major tard-ass. Anyway, I went to Lauren's room again at the end of the night, and we were up talking until 3:45 or something. There were roughly six hundred hugs because of how freaked out I was. Conversation bloomed into a lot of other things, though, as it always does with Lauren. I can't get over how happy I am that she's going through college with me. She's a perfect Lemont person to be at Iowa with.
Last night was even more hopping. Alyssa, Kiki (a tolerable Communications major), her roommate Sophie, and I attended the undergrad Directors' Festival at the theatre building. The whole thing was a little uneven... mainly because the second show, a determinedly quaint thing called Long Ago and Far Away, blew so much ass that everything around it smelled of shit. Vince's play was probably the best, and I'm not even saying that because I'm obsessed with miniature golf. I certainly didn't impulsively clap when I saw the putters. Certainly didn't. Danielle Santangelo's play was short and entertaining, though I think some of it was unsuccessfully over-the-top. Any night of theatre was fine with me though... even though I wasn't paid to see it. Sigh, it's so hard to be a top-notch arts reporter for a highly reputable newspaper that eleven people read. Following the plays, Alyssa and I darted to her place where a middleschool-themed party was going down, completely with spiked Hi-C, pizza, and "Jump, Jive, and Wail". Stayed there for an hour and a half and absolutely dove into the free food. Phil called saying he wanted some company at Jimmy John's for a little while, so I met up with him and sat with him outside the joint. I love Jimmy John's, guys... like I want to date Jimmy John. He would be an excellent provider. Phil and I got pointed at by some drunk winners, and after that we went and picked up Lauren from Currier. The three of us went back to the party at Alyssa's... where Spice Girls celebratin' went down. Some skankalicious dancing was going down too, and I don't even know how I feel about it still. Phil attempted to teach me how to handle glowsticks properly, but then I just quit because I obviously wasn't fag enough to master the craft. On that note, we went back to the dorms, and after a quick shower, I packed up some stuff for a sleepover in Phil's dorm. I set up camp on his dinky couch, and when I woke up at 12 the next day, my back was all contorted and broken in half. Of course Phil woke me up by throwing a pillow at my face followed by a depressing blast of fucking queer-ass music. I about turned straight, guys. The urge to play basketball was rising exponentially in me. Phil and I booked it to Burge for breakfast/lunch/probably-dinner-by-that-time, and then we sat in Matt Hauge's room for a couple hours. Matt is damn sharp and funny too. He's in my Journalistic Reporting & Writing lecture, and naturally I assigned him to be on the lookout for Crushy. Soon I will have people incognito doing this work. Look out, Crushy, that lowly construction worker on top of Biology Building East is actually... James Bond. I bet you thought that all along anyway.
And then of course my phone is missing. Phil just came in here begging me to go to Studio with him... and though the offer is kind of tempting, I have so much other work to do tonight. I need to actually start gathering info for my essay test on Monday in preparation for the study session happening tomorrow. Footnote about Phil: of course he's a space-invading fop whenever he wants to be... as in he's always touching people he barely knows whenever he wants. So I decided to see how he'd react if someone else touched him so... so I touched his ear in the same way he touches my ear (the "fold-over" move), and he FREAKED OUT, with defensive hand gestures, disgusted snarl and all. Which is so fucking typical. Phil is someone who has so much contempt for other people when it comes to certain things, but he absolutely has that "It's Okay When I Do It" mentality. In other words, a hypocrite. As if I needed a controlled experiment to prove it. How else to put it but... Phil's just living proof that you shouldn't breast-feed your kids with Coca Cola.
And of course, before I forget: PT's away-message words of wisdom. I've interpreted them in case you haven't been formally educated by a classics professor or Kabbalah teacher.
"Nigga its bob Vila time The spakle king is at work.....PEACEEEEEE"
-Can we even get over that PT just mentioned Bob Vila? Sorry, PT, I asked around, and Bob Vila doesn't like his ass lubed.
"Dam NIgga i just did a shit load of work" "FUCK U SLUTS"
-By this time it is clear PT's relationship with "nigga" is stormy but companionate. He acknowledges his helplessness at the hands of sinful forces (e.g. "SLUTS") that take away from his religious observance or "work." "Dam NIgga" indeed.
"SLAP HOES"
-Fierce and unapologetic, PT advises us to cleanse ourselves of unnecessary deterrents distracting us from our roles as workers of God. It is also important to note that "SLAP HOES" is an anagram for "Shop Sale!!!" and "Shoe pals!" He may be coming out, guys.
It is 11:01 on a Saturday night, but I don't even care. There's nothing I want to do in the Iowa City world tonight, and tuning out with the DJ feels perfect. On top of all that, I'm going to be studying soon, which will just put the party hat on top of this whole evening. I'm also conniving a way to be able to go home two weekends from now. This might mean I'll be momentarily working at Chipain's again. I was just about to say working with Jena would be nice, but of course her vulgar ass got fired. Even Karen probably won't be there. Jessica might be. Bitchy old ladies certainly. Oh man. I sure hope to be able to follow up with that info.
And by jingo, it is October. We are in the throes of the schoolyear now, seriously being educated. That already means there's about two and a half months until the end of semester, which is pretty remarkable. All in all... I guess I'm fine with everything. I've worked myself into a reasonable routine, and splotches of spontaneity always manage to sneak their way into my life... usually compliments of The Daily Iowan. So everything is ducky. I miss acting quite a bit. I realized that when I did my interviews for the workshop production a couple weeks ago. I miss playing a character I love to be and understand. Actually though, I'm very psyched to keep time for myself throughout everything... something remains very sacred about it. Whether I'm DJing, watching Bravo, observing, or reflecting, I cherish it, despite how it can bind me to the past or keep me out of the moment. I think I may end up burning myself a CD for the fall... something to resort to every time I need to curl up and keep myself feeling propelled into this time of year. But you know, the time has come to start studying... so I must vamoose. I send love and a lent ear to you guys, and I so appreciate the reciprocation. Look at us all well into our own growth and understanding of ourselves. As long as we keep it unconditional, honest, and light-hearted, we are so good to go. So ready to fling ourselves into newer, scarier, eventually beautiful things. Here's hoping we do it and share all we learn.
Thank you, thank you, thank you for the time.
Beautiful right along with you, xoxo,
Louis
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