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Til Tuesday "What About Love" |
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Ergh, guys, hello. I feel like dying right now. It's mostly because I have a bunch of work I haven't made headway on, but also, I've been a hermit as of late, and I just feel tired and disconnected. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's a pretty shitty feeling. Like my life is sucked out of me each time I revisit the computer. And of course here I am at the DJ to dump it on you fuckers. Sorry, bitches, I locked the door behind you.
So what's up? I had a more eventful weekend than is my usual practice, and for the love of God, it was just what the doctor ordered. It started on Friday with a low-key trip to The Vagina Monologues with Elizabeth, my freshman friend and a gaggle of her homies. I don't think anyone realized that our $12 dollar tickets bought us a production of The Vagina Monologues featuring a troupe of actors who read the monologues from handheld cards! I guess the cast of the show consisted of volunteers who worked at the hospital, but... I don't know, they should've been off-book. I laughed a good amount, so I guess I can't fault those candy-striper hos too much. I didn't really know anyone out of the group I attended the show with, so I had to make conversation with new people. What a chore that was. They were all nice, but I felt blah and ho-hum the whole night. For some reason, when I went home, Sarah and Kimmie were both online, so that occupied the remainder of my evening. Totally fine by me, actually. We've been coordinating possible road-trips and, still, our future super-classy-ass apartment in the city. I don't even care if we need ivory towers, a ballroom, and a Krispy Kreme to achieve our goal, it will fucking happen. Right over the Boystown IHOP too. Look out, Chicago '08.
Saturday night was a total blast. It was a tailspin-crazy disco boogie full of skanky, escapist fun. Frankly, it was just what the doctor ordered. After Maggie, Kinzy, their friend Brian, and I ordered a questionable pesto pizza from the Wedge and played Mario Kart, we retreated to our respective room for a few moments... just before regrouping with Kiki and Lauren for a wild trip to Studio. Alright, so this night is multifaceted in its incredibility. We arrive and immediately start gittin'-down... and it was so great to have Kiki join us for once. She's all about strutting around on that dance floor. Maggie and Lauren also took 300 snapshots during the experience, and now we all have fresh facebook pictures for the next 20 years (or two weeks). Okay, so then drama began to unfold. First of all, of course -- since I was having a good time and all -- Phil shows up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him walk in, and I ignored him. Phil, unfortunately, defies common sense. Upon seeing me (and apparently after forgetting that I haven't called him in a month) runs up and fucking dances on me like a sped eight-year-old who eats paint. Literally, he was jutting his ass underneath my crotch before barreling himself against me and into the wall. Why would you do this to a platonic friend? That is no fun. That's just Phil being all about himself and doing what he pleases without regard for others' physical space. For a change. I told him to get off of me and finally did.
Things take a spastic turn when this random, black-haired girl approached me and asked if I performed on speech team in high school. I said no, but then she asked me where I was from, and I said Lemont. She nodded and said, "You know Elyse." I did a huge double-take and then she continued, "I'm Dan O'Dwyer's ex-girlfriend." Then it HIT me! Not only did I recognize this girl (Megan), but I also remembered she made out with Shanna at New Years 2004! Hell, I spent my New Years at Megan's that year! What on earth was she doing in Iowa City? How did she recognize me across the crowded-ass room? How's that fake bisexuality going for her? Actually, for all I know, she's a genuine bisexual. I don't know. People are weird.
So as I danced with Lauren and Kiki, this dude started... half-dancing on Lauren, it seemed to me. Lauren was noticeably alarmed by the scenario and that was justified. However, then I made eye contact with this dude, and he made the finger come-hither move at me. Dude, way to dance up on my friend for too long. Anyway, I start dancing with this guy, and after some egging-on from his friends, we danced a little more closely. Then Phil jumps into the mix and asks me in that signature pretending-to-be-helpful chirp, "Do you want me to get him off you?!" before saying, "Oh, okay, whatever!" like he had total disdain for me. But back to this guy Ryan: I made out with him for a little while, and you know what, even though I wasn't crazy about the tongue-zaniness, it just felt good to fucking let loose. To jump out of my head for a second. I don't even really know what the hell the guy looked like. He felt me up too. It was all gravy. Then I got tired of forging a fake acquaintanceship and pretended to go to the bar. I danced with some other guy too, and he was awful to kiss, because his breath was doused with beer and also what I'm sure was raw egg. It was a month-old omelette in there. Whatever, he had a good time, so did I, fine. Before the night was over, "Vogue" played, and I got up on the blocks in the front of the club and busted a move... just before some melanotic asshole shoved me off! I guess he had a lapdance to give or something. I don't even care, "Vogue" was on and all the drag queens came out of the woodwork. After Lauren got done making out with her stripe-shirted straight dude (who danced with CRAZY ARMS), she and I were the last to leave Studio. We were pretty rejuvenated. And more than a little deaf.
The next night after my DI meeting, I found myself with a sinus-splitting headache while at the IMU with Lauren. I walked home early, noticing patchy spots in my vision. Then when I arrived at my dorm, I was miserable. I was woozy, nauseated, and unable to sleep. Finally it occurred to me I was going to throw up, and for like and hour and a half, nothing would come up. Thankfully, after a phone call home, I puked and then slept. My mom diagnosed it later as a textbook migraine... and that better be the only one I ever have. I just might be menopausal. At least I didn't have a roommate to worry about when I arrived home... and that's because he moved out! Zak had been on the list of single rooms for a long time, and when one opened up in Currier, he nabbed it. This means I -- yet again -- have #E132 as a single. Four roommates behind me, and I am the lone survivor. Todd, Drew, Daryl, and Zak... each annihliated by my cunning room-owning ability. Though I'm glad to have this space to myself, I'm certainly a little lonelier. Rather, it's much quieter, and I don't have a roomie who irks me to go and find things outside the room to do. Therefore, it's easier than ever to just kind of settle for facebook browsing and root beer in the desolate comfort of my room. You know, I actually don't know if I can keep up that routine much longer. A change of pace could be desperately needed.
And that brings me to my next point. I haven't been too verbal about it, but I've been giving some serious consideration to leaving the university and attending school closer to home. First of all, I haven't said much about it because I'm afraid of saying, "Well, I'm going to switch if this-and-this happens/doesn't happen" and then not committing to that idea. Basically, I've kept to myself about it because I don't want to come to a dramatic conclusion, tell everyone about it, and then reverse my decision impulsively. Monday will be an instrumental day in what I decide to do, because I find out if I was picked to be an RA. The extra money would be a giant help... but I dunno, would being an RA actually make me lonelier? I'd have the single, the extra cash... but my life would still be dominated by work at The Daily Iowan and the residence hall. So I'm worried about feeling too bored too much of the time. I understand that Iowa is great for both of my majors and that I'd probably set myself back at least a semster by attending a new school... but I also want to be sure I'm valuing school enough. I'm sick of just "bucking up" and letting things continue the way they are. I am so much more of a passive participant in my life than I ever have been before. However, my trepidation in departing from my home life and forging a new, "successful" adult life also contributes to my passivity. All of the occupations I could end up in seem to have... zero salary and also, zero security. Journalism is so rough-and-tumble, and so is acting. Anyway, same old speech, but the new punchline is... even though I gloss over it a lot of the time, I really think it would do me good to consider a new school.
It's scary though. It's a scary idea to even admit, because 1) I feel like a complain-y bitch who just doesn't do enough social activities at Iowa. 2) I sound like I don't like anything here. The latter is so far from the truth, because three or four of my best friends are Iowa homies. My life is changed for the better because of people like Alyssa, Kiki, Maggie, and Kinzy (and of course Laurny too). The worst thing I could do though is delay making a decision about what I want to do. If I'm going to stay at Iowa, I want to do it because I reasoned and chose the best option for myself... not just because it was the easiest choice. Still, I'm waiting until Monday to get "serious" about all this decision-making. Stay tuned, I suppose.
So here's the shit I'm avoiding at the moment:
-My next story for Enterprise Reporting (and I am STRAPPED for ideas).
-Studying for Monday's Theatre Crafts exam (and word, I could not name you ONE hammer).
-And... actually, that's it!
I have some short story reading to do eventually, but that's manageable. I can't belive it's just those two things I haven't worked on yet. Hell, I can procrastinate another two days if I want to! But wait, that's unprofessional, shame on me. The DI don't play that. Then again, I think there's a reason that when the letters "D" and "I" are said together, it makes "die." It's just a little too coincidental for me.
Anyway, I'm gone for now. Not exactly the slap-happiest entry, but an informative, necessary one. Love you guys, love this iTunes that is eating all of money, and love the chance to write it all down. Thanks for reading... I figure 2 a.m.'s a good time to get ready for bed in time for a 9 a.m. class.
Love you guys so much, and I'm thinking of you always. Xoxo,
Louis
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