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Alanis Morissette "Are You Still Mad" |
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DJ, DJ, DJ... hey there, it feels so comfy to be back. I am fresh out of the shower, down in the ITC clad in gym shirt and pajama pants at 1:30 a.m. taking a load off after a week of straight work. There's definitely more to come, but tomorrow is pretty lax, so I don't mind escaping into the treehouse that is the DJ for awhile. I even have my fucking mouthguard in... let me remind everyone that I am techinically in public as I type this. I'm always putting my dignity on the line for the sake of the DJ... clearly this is due to my status as hard-nosed investigative journalist. Obviously. But anyway, hello, let's sit indian-style and talk about boys or something.
Also, fucking welcome to a world where the Chicago White Sox win the World Series! A 4-0 sweep! Nostradamus has thrown his arms up in incredulousness at this. Crystal ball knocked to the ground and everything. I'm happy to say I witnessed southern Chi-town end the 88 year losing streak, and I was panting millimeters from the TV as the deed was done. Now I am no TV baseball watcher for the most part... I kind of don't see the point of it most of the time. Like what are the stakes? Who cares if we win a game against a team when it doesn't mean anything? Who even knows who the players are? Aren't we most of the time just importing people from everywhere else except Chicago? For them to represent Chicago seems almost ridiculous. But anyway, I concede that the World Series carried a shitload of intensity because of how long coming this victory was. It's too bad they had to win the thing in Houston, because of course upon winning everyone jumped on each other in the infield, but then the entire crowd was fucking silent or weeping or doing whatever the hell it is people from Houston do (their ugly sisters, I know). My grandpa, aka Papa, who died two summers ago, was a Sox fan from the time he was a kid, like around 1920, until his death in 2003. That's exactly the wrong time to be a Sox fan. The WS victory made me wish he could've seen it, but at least my dad got to see it, and he's pretty hardcore himself. I also sort of wish I could just be in Lemont to hear the suburban buzz about it all... but I guess all this Iowa shit takes precedence. Boo.
In other news, the Chicago Cubs are excited about an upcoming camping trip.
Last weekend was a totally quiet one where I buried my head in piles of printouts about global warming and old practice exams for my Monday Technology & Society test. Although the extended quiet time was actually perfect for me, the studying was fucking worthless... because the exam's questions were almost ENTIRELY THE SAME as the practice exam's! I had almost all of the answers ahead of time! I seriously finished the exam in about 25 minutes... and I ended up getting a 41 out of 45, which is certainly an A. My instructor for that class, Doris Eckey, is a dorky but meek woman who probably wouldn't hurt a fly... but it is too bad she is a MORON! Who the hell gives you all the answers to an old exam and then basically "tests" you with that exam? What's the fucking point? Why would you even go to lecture?! I am just stunned. I am in college, correct? This isn't CCD in disguise, I hope. Look at me pretending I'm offended by this... I am absolutely psyched about the easy A. I have no business doing anything with the world of science, so if Doris is going to accomodate my inability to spell "Avogadro," then so be it. When these easy gen-eds are finally over for good, I think reality may be smacking me in my pretty head once and for all. Until then, life will be my Easter egg hunt.
I saw Madonna's documentary I'm Going to Tell You a Secret on Friday when it premiered on MTV. I'm torn about it... I was certainly glued to the screen for the full two hours, but that's mostly because I am utterly obsessed with new Madonna happenings, I think. Well, actually, I did like a lot of things about the movie. The behind-the-scenes events of the movie were genuinely enlightening at some parts, especially in the simple sense of understanding the mechanics behind the spectacle of Madonna's tour. Also, Madonna was just engaging, typically smart-ass, and intellectual. All of that was great... but what wasn't great were the "spiritual" stabs at educating the audience. There was sincerity to it, but it all smacked of Kabbalah buzzwords (e.g. "I think of the audience as thousands of lights," and Madonna's serious, unflinching advice to her dancers, "Obey the laws of the universe!"). In that sense the movie was self-congratulatory on Madonna's part as well as self-indulgent. However, it's not the same type of exhilarating self-indulgence exhibited (or flaunted, I should say) in Madonna: Truth or Dare, where unbridled raunchiness, sarcasm, and expressive fervor were the name of the game. That's another thing... the performances from the Re-Invention Tour shown in I'm Going to Tell You a Secret were so manic in their cuts from one shot to the next. I swear I couldn't tell you what the stage looked like half the time because of the blindingly quick editing of it all. However, the opening, semi-lip-synched performance of "Vogue," though still schizophrenically filmed, was awesome. The pre-recorded vocals and/or live vocals sounded fantastic, and the vogueing was handled tastefully. The "rap" section of "Vogue" featured some top-notch, stylish manuevers from everyone onstage... absolutely essence Madonna. SO looking forward to her new disc. I'm sure there will be a lot of saucy grooves to bounce down Clinton St. with, although I fear Madonna's determined about-face from the clinical seriousness of American Life and her determination to prove she "loves to have fun" will produce a really dance-y album at the expense of actual identity. It's definitely too early to call, and I guess time will tell. But who has the ability to wait two and a half weeks. Anyone? Zero people, exactly. Coincidentally, Alanis Morissette's The Collection will also be released on Nov. 15, and though I of course own 80 percent of the tracks on it, the new tracks are pretty to-die-for. I LOVE her cover of Seal's "Crazy" and can't wait to have it in my possession. Maybe it doesn't deserve fourteen bucks, but most things I buy don't deserve it. Oh well! It's only paper, really.
FYI, I am sitting across the computer lab desk from this painfully perfect classic geek with oversized glasses, an apparently stuffed up nose (of course) and two open notebooks, hopefully filled with dirty secrets about Star Trek or a sexy TA. He's got headphones in and is bopping to his music in uncomfortably un-rhythmic fashion. On one of his notebooks, there's a bunch of small writing, nothing too substantial... but then there are two words written in giant letters, and I'm... just a little alarmed. What are the words, you ask? Ah, yes: PUPPET MOB. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in. What the hell could "PUPPET MOB" refer to!? I am fucking biting my lip in disbelief! I am certainly being punk'd! I am seeing the words "PUPPET MOB"! I sure fucking hope he's writing a short story about a puppet mob over there. I will fucking write one if he's not on it. I have been laughing to myself for the past five minutes... okay, moving on, before I incriminate myself and botch this whole operation.
Yesterday I writhed in the hell that was my four-page Theatre History research paper outline. It's not like it was an impossible assignment, but I just had not prepared at all enough for it. I also didn't allow myself to seriously buckle down and cull all the pertinent information from the ancient library books I obtained with Kiki over the weekend (sidenote: heart Kiki x 4000). When I'm confronted by an assignment that becomes a huge hurdle, that's the time I confront myself with how unsure I am about my future doing anything in the professional world. Something about not being able to get things done swiftly absolutely makes me start asking myself questions I can't ever answer such as: Do I even want to be a journalist? Do I seriously want to be a theatre major? Will I ever make enough money? Will I be a "success" in my lifetime? Will I fulfill all the "potential" I chalked myself up to having? Will I be the person who never became what he should've been?. It's all attached to how compulsive I get when I'm restless or perpetually stressed or at the mercy of a project I don't know how to handle right away. I'm reminded of early in the summer when I just wanted to "fly to L.A." and give a lifestyle of stand-up comedy a go. Thing is, it's not "ambition" I'm quelling during those moments; it's compulsion. Then again, compulsion to be successful probably drives a lot of people into abandoning all reserve and going for that acting career, but the only thing compulsion does to me so far is make me feel like I need to do something before I end up becoming an inevitable un-special, unsuccessful part of the working world. I just don't know if I can see myself being in a consistent 9-5 job forever. The stability of the job would be great... but I just don't know what form that job would take. Then again, a big part of me wants to say that kind of job is in fact possible for me. As a matter of fact, I think I'll probably end up establishing a steady career before I try out more flashy side-projects like stand-up. Who even knows? I put so much pressure on myself to have all the answers... and maybe that's the core of what I struggle with in college. With this unending flood of emails I get from the journalism department shoving new internships down my throat, I just get so overwhelmed by how much I need to do in order to establish a tolerable portfolio or chance of attracting employers. I'm also just in awe of the students around me who for the most part don't seem to be that concerned. How the HELL do people accomplish so much partying? I don't see how it's possible given all that's expected of these people. Then again, how much time do I spend on facebook again? Or sitting around fantasizing about Panera? Anyway, I'm finding a way to temper my obsessive-compulsion during my times of pseudo-crises. God help us all. By "help us all" I mean "provide ice cream quickly and inexpensively."
This weekend Rachel jives down to Coralville to meet up with Lauren, Alyssa, Tracy (a welcome addition), and I at the infamous, not-that-big Coralville mall. There will at least be Panera, and in case you haven't gotten the right impression of my need for Panera, let me tell you: I need Panera like Jerry Lee's kids need a cure. I'm about to have a telethon about it. I also plan to drop a bundle on jeans and long shirts. This would be a lot more possible if Express Men were allowed to exist anywhere in Iowa City. Speaking of the Coralville mall, I have this plan to do a DI story on actual holiday spirit in malls. I hope it's a first-person story where I talked about how psyched I am about holiday spirit only to be crushed by every store-owner who says, "SANTA AIN'T REAL AND I HAVE HEMORRHOIDS." I'm too fucking excited about it. Those red Starbucks cups (worth millions on the black market) will be a steady part of my life again soon, and that means more White Chocolate Mocha and... still frappuccinos for months. that was cute to me to pretend I do anything differently when Christmas rolls around. Also, how about my roommate is offiically the cutest person ever... a couple days ago he stopped and asked me, "Would you hate it if I played Christmas music right now?" First, I shat. Secondly, I ordered him to play Christmas music until the end of time. I am sorry; my roomie and I are both obsessed with Christmas. Shouldn't we be joining forces and singing carols to the disabled or something? Daryl's coming down with a cold or something, but he is a swell sweetheart of a guy, and I predict the two of us will collaborate on at least one Billboard No. 1 hit. I miss having #E132 to my sexy self, but if I have to have a roommate, I prefer a considerate one who likes people. And that's just what I got, so no complaints at all.
And that's where our tale ends today. For the most part, I've been absolutely dandy, and part of that dandiness is thanks to my week-long Carole King binge I've been on. But anyway, I have some crucial facebook work to do at 3:08 a.m., so until next time, I will continue to open up, fess up, and fuck up as is my way. Love you guys as we tumble into November... things are getting darker, colder, but at the same time cozier. I will so be in touch, and I will look forward to our return to safe havens like the DJ. Keep on being your unstoppable self.
Completely sleeping with white socks on tonight, xoxo,
Louis
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