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mood |
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 exanimate |
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music |
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James Taylor "Don't Let Me Be Lonely Tonight" |
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Hmmm, might be a sweet idea to check out the calendar -- Good God, it's the middle of October! And November and December can't come fast enough! I feel relieved and gracious to finally be back at the DJ... because even though I don't write as much anymore, I'm still starved to organize what has become a clusterfuck of a life. It's a clusterfuck that's become routine, which settles things down, but it's still a gross orgy of Ron Jeremy proportions.
Anyway, I miss you, and need the time to go on and on. Ride wit me. Especially if you're Nelly.
Uggggh. Where to begin? Alright, my last two weeks have been eaten pretty whole by the backstage work I'm doing for the theater department's newest show Red Noses. I'm the sound board operator, not by choice, and I basically sit through each run and click "GO!" for all the sound effects. Very easy and very monotonous. After my third cue, I have a half-hour wait before I click anything again. I could run three miles between my fucking cues. And frankly, I do. I have to do run crew for two other plays before I graduate (ugh), but the work does provide me a chance to inspect the big shows up close. So that's kind of nice. Even if it forces me to take leave from the newspaper for a couple weeks. Actually, though the thought of re-entering the editing scene and adjusting to what's happened in my absence sounds daunting, it'll be nice again to edit. It's more likely to relate to my future life. Not that I hope theater falls to the wayside -- I absolutely hope not, actually. But in terms of using college as a vehicle to a career track, the DI seems more like where I belong. Where I want to be for a long time? That remains to be seen.
Lately I've been in communication with, oh, zero of my home friends. Or family members. Which sucks a lot, but I do think I've grown emotionally closer to Iowa recently. If not through becoming an RA or editor, then simply by allowing myself to become ingratiated into the grand Iowa swing. I kick and scream for Thanksgiving break... but we all know that week home where I sit, think too much, think about thinking too much, and drive around interminably will kick my ass. But I miss not worrying about everything. Something's always hanging in the balance around here at Iowa... and though my floor is one of the nicest, tamest group of guys I could ever request, RA-ship is a constant source of skepticism and self-doubt. Am I doing enough programming? Being social enough? Encouraging a social atmosphere enough? I'm not as concerned about what my higher-ups think... I'm more worried that the guys on my floor think I'm gone too often with other work. Frankly, I am gone a lot of the time, but that seems inevitable. I do have some program ideas ready to execute... but I need to pick dates for those. God, if I think about this shit for too long, I could hyperventilate. And I don't even have an inhaler, guys.
But am I happy? I don't know. I never really know. I have a lot of fun -- especially with Kiki and Jessica lately. We frequent Jimmy John's, the mall, and Project Runway viewings wherever we can find them. But again, I don't know. I made a pretty conscious decision this year to book myself to death with the hopes of convincing myself I'm doing something with my life... and of course I totally believe it! Right. Ugggh. Love trying to explain myself like this condition won't last until the day I die. I think a lot of people feel the same way... but oh well, let's talk about stupid things like boys.
A couple weeks ago, I was studying with this guy in my Media & Health class at his apartment, and lo and behold, we got it on. He's gotten with a couple of my friends before, and the rumors are true, this guy's good. Originally, I was psyched to hook up with him... and the second time we met, we hooked up again... but you know, regular fuck buddy visits are kind of like getting ice cream sundaes everyday. Delicious and scandalous, sure, but who cares to get it every damn day? It ruins what you even liked about it in the first place... the spontaneous indulgence and newness of it. In recent days, however, he's been blowing me off, and so maybe the self-proclaimed "Captain Insane-O" (no joke, he called himself that... on top of me) isn't quite the magical escape I thought he would be. Fun while it lasted? I guess.
There's this grad actor in Red Noses who I initially thought was flirtatious with me... and I kind of dug it... but then all I hear now is how he flirts with everyone. Word, dude: I fucking hate people who flirt with everyone. What the hell is that? You like to feel attractive? Good, please masturbate in the mirror. By yourself away from me. Okay, this guy picks me up all the time and carries me around... and then he turns around and picks up one of my female friends. Well, one, let's make no mistake, this guy is gay. He's homo-licious. He also cornered me away from my friends at a post-show banquet and talked to me for like, ten to fifteen minutes. Granted, he is a grad actor -- I found out today he's 26. I don't care to kickstart a soulmate alliance with him... but I cannot stand when someone's intentions aren't clear. Also, my emotions are so toyable -- don't even set these bad boys in motion, they'll end up in a DI article YESTERDAY. I swear. When I found out that high school sweetheart Joe had blocked me on facebook (in pretty record time, I might add) a month or so ago, I wrote the tab at the top of the arts page in our regular feature "The DI Recommends" ... and I wrote, "The DI Recommends... Finding out exactly who blocked you on facebook. It's probably not a large number, but how about that one ex-boyfriend? The one with the crazy dad? Yeah, the coward can run, but he can't hide" or something to that effect. In short, I em a lil pycho (to quote a favorite MySpace account) annnnnd you should date me anyway.
I ran into Phil at Burge, and we got to talking. I told him I hated how he treated me so much, and I hated that all my friends could see it too. He apologized, but I don't really care. I guess that's that? Boo.
In addition to all this boy business, I guess I'm going on a study venture with this guy I've known through a mutual friend (Facebook) since last year. We went on a coffee date a few weeks ago, and because no one erupted in flames during that whole 45 minutes, I decided a second date was in order. Three cheers for standards, bitches. So that's kind of something. A little change of pace.
Alright, I have to get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow, so off I go. Thanks for reading, letting me grovel and moan. I do it well, am I right? Love you guys, fuck you later.
Ignoring Crocktober, xoxo,
Louis
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