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Brandy, Monica, and Louis "The Boy is Mine" |
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Hey there.
Jeez, nowadays, the DJ updates have not only become infrequent but also damn short. The last couple weeks have been ridiculously busy -- just wait till you hear the fugly list of shit I've had to do. To name a few gems: complete a LIGHTING PRACTICAL for Theatre Crafts, write three articles in the past four days, complete my MTV application (which I just sent in), re-apply for The Daily Iowan (which they make you do every semester), buy tons of "supplies" for class (my favorite supply? That would have to be a seven-dollar crescent wrench) and oh so much mandatory facebooking. But I weathered the storm just like so many Puritans did on the Mayflower, so now it's time to give thanks for DJ, scalp some injuns, and and reap some journaley maize. You thought I was the King of Modesty, but I'm actually the King of great analogies.
So alright. Here I am on the first day of April -- which is incredible -- just back from the post office where I dropped off my MTV application. I'm mostly awed that time keeps flying by... because I'm sort of just weaving in and out of my routine. It's weird that life goes on while I do that. On top of that, I only have one month more of schoolwork before I'm a junior in college. Un-fucking-believable. Have I really lived in Iowa for the past seven months? Am I really going to complete another two years there? At The Daily Iowan, no less? Funny I should ask that, because just the other day I was down in the newsroom, putting my review of Prince's new 3121 into the computer, when my editor started again talking to me about applying to be the new arts editor. I didn't have any intention of going for the position because of my RA job next year... but then as I sat there filling out the application, I couldn't just write "arts reporter" in the "position" field. I went outside, obviously in a moral dilemma, and I called Gloria. First of all, Gloria was completely distracted and fucking starstruck by the cockateal she bought. I was skeptical about the bird until I found out its name was REGINA. My family didn't even name it, it came that way! Fate, anyone?! I'm going to follow Sarah's suggestion and teachit to say, "These sweatpants are all that fits me right now." Either that, or I'm going to wait for someone really important to visit, like a priest or something, only to have the bird say to him, "Stop trying to make 'fetch' happen." Anyway, I talked to my mom about the situation, and I came to the conclusion I'd apply to be the arts editor if there was a way I could be a co-editor. I went back inside, mentioned the idea to my editor, and she said another member of my section applied to be a co-editor. I'm sorry, fate again? With that knowledge, I basically said I'd be a co-editor, and so the job is sealed. Next year I'm going to be a co-editor and an RA. I don't know if it's possible. Or if it's allowed, actually. I still have to hammer out those details with the residence life people. Anyway, if it worked out, I'd make so much money and gain so much experience. We'll see how the fuck I manage it all. I’m honestly scared about it… but I’m excited at the prospect of gaining more notoriety in the newsroom and losing anonymity at the university. Becoming a superstar, in other words.
So tonight, Lauren and I are going to Studio, possibly with Maggie and Kinzy. Studio is slowly becoming one of my favorite things to do in Iowa City. I think that’s weird because don’t we all remember the first time I went there when terrible gays made me feel shitty? Anyway, I look forward to losin’ control (perhaps with the aid of the Missy Elliott masterpiece), and maybe meeting a nice guy or two. Did I say meeting a nice guy or two? I’m pretty positive I meant just making out with them. Who even talks anymore? Not me, that’s for sure. If Lauren and I play our cards right, we can get in for free as well. Twice this week we’ve scored free Subway sandwiches, and Studio is the next business to conquer. Granted, in order to get the free subs, we had to sign up for Chase bank offers and sign papers okaying the theft of our identities. Still, theft tastes great with Sun Chips.
Also, I am SO revisiting “The Boy is Mine” by Brandy and Monica right now. I’d just like to give some mad props to 1998, because this shit kicks ass. And the video! How could we forget? First of all, where did those girls land such bad-ass apartments? Right next door to one another, no less. You’d think they’d have known their man was trading turns at each place. Then again, if Brandy releases stuff like “What About Us,” maybe her marbles just aren’t all there. Anyway, well done, girls.
Okay, I’m done fo’ now. Thanks for checking in like kickass compadres, you know I’m appreciatin’. Love you guys, we will meet again soon. I’m wrapped up in the strange mix of Iowa happenings right now, and I’m looking for a center still. Until next time, hos,
Wishing I could be around more, but thinking of you guys all the time anyway. Xoxo,
Louis
P.S. Lauren and I just bought Fruit Snacks, and SHIT IS IT A SCORE. I have eaten four of the ten packages. I will go for a fifth to celebrate eating the first four. This is not close to a joke.
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