The Soap Opera Returns

*large, large, large disclaimer* what you are about to read was written by me during sophomore year of high school. it was part of a lengthy and honorable tradition amongst me and my over-imaginative friends to write our own crazy soap operas and distribute them online. this was pretty much the last one, because it was the funniest; however, it requires a.) some knowledge of x-files characters, b.) an understanding of just how obsessed rae was with the xfiles, c.) knowledge of a whole lot of inside jokes, ie scott w, daniella, my inflatable purple alien friend, previous soap opera episodes etc, and d.) the knowledge that none of us are nor have ever been gay. it was just funnier that way. ironically, back when this was written, none of us really did drink, or have sex, or do ANY of the crazy things we wrote about. ah, innocence...

To Sara and Rae: heeheeheehee


As Sands Through the Hourglass,
So Are the Days of Our Lives....

It's nighttime in the Buglione~Corbett house. Rae's parents are, as disturbingly usual, absent. Drifting down from Rae's bedroom are the sounds of three gals having a VERY good time.
"Rae would you stop that? You know I don't like butterscotch sauce!"
"Rrrrrr....Michelle..."
Suddenly outside Rae's house a blinding light appears as a hovercraft descends to window-level. Rae's friendly neighborhood wack job rises from his bed under newspapers in an alley and runs towards it. "Take me away!!" he yells. Instead, a little blue laser shoots out from the alien ship and makes his head explode.
Inside the girls don't notice anything unusual until a weird green light fills the room and they all begin to float in midair. In light of their previous...activity, they're not wearing much, and they make futile efforts to grab at their likewise-floating clothes as they are sucked out the window and into the ship.
"NOOOOOOO!" Sara screamed.
"NOOOOOOO!" Michelle screamed.
"FINALLY!!!" Rachel screamed.
When next they can think coherently, they find themselves in what looks like the medical lab of the ship- in the buff. They immediately dive for cover as two little green dudes- who mysteriously resemble Michelle's five foot high inflatable alien pal Fred, except he's purple- appear.
"Welcome Earthlings," they intone. "Do not be af-eeeeeeek!!" Rae, in her enthusiasm at finally having ben abducted, runs over to the little aliens and starts touching them.
"You guys!!" she squeals. "This is so kewl!" She glances back at Michelle and Sara, only to find that they are eyeing her with skepticism.
"Unhand us, Earthchild!" Rae suddenly finds herself floating in a big green light. But this only makes her happier.
"I'm Scully in the season finale!" she shrieks in ectsasy. "It's like a full body massage! Only- can you make this thing shake me a bit?" The aliens sigh, and Rae begins to shake violently like an epileptic who just had a run-in with a hair dryer in the bathtub. "WHEEEEEEE!!"
Sara and Michelle hide their faces, partially in embarrassment, and partially because hell, she's naked and she's shaking in mid air!
"We don't know her."
"Aren't you going to ask us why we brought you here?" one of the little green dudes asked impatiently.
"Oh yeah!" Sara remembers her lines from every alien abduction movie she's seen. "Who the fuck are you, where the fuck are we and what the FUCK do you want with us?"
The aliens glanced at each other. "Definitely the right ones." One of them pulls out what looks a like a VCR remote and clicks a button. "Roll tape!" Suddenly the lights dim and they're looking at a movie screen.
"That's us!" Rae exclaimed, having been released from her "body massage". Sure enough, onscreen is playing a tape of the higlights of their careers as murderers, hookers, sluts and friends.
"You three Earth women have been of great interest to us. As you can see, we have complied video surveillance of some of your most interesting activties..."
The screen flashed to a picture of Rae holding her hedgeclippers high as a terrified Dan back away. 'Nooo! Rae, put down the hedgeclippers!' "Your mutilation of the strange hybrid boy Dan..."
"He deserved it!"
A picture of Michelle and Kris using women's basic weapons and a lot of lingerie to fight their way into teacher-guarded Northwaste to rescue Rae from the evil hag Mrs Hennessey flashed on. Michelle was emerging from the janitor's closet after making sure Mr Dumais wasn't a threat. "Your interesting use of promiscuity to come to the aid of a friend..."
"Do you mind not showing that? I was under the influence!"
Now the screen displayed Sara letting Scott White stuff ten dollar bills into her G string and then throwing him out in disgust when he forgot who she was for the umpteenth time the next morning. "Fornication appears to be a highly lucrative pursuit among your species..."
"Hey! I needed the money!"
"In conclusion," the little alien continued, "you three have been the cause of, to our count, 153 deaths, two sex changes, 321 acts of prostitution, one suicide, and the heartless waste of thousands of gallons of whipped cream and chocolate syrup. We find this highly interesting, and would like to find out why you three are so strange by probing your...um...minds."
Rae hopped up and down. "We get to get PROBED!! YIPPEEE!"
Michelle and Sara looked like they would have liked to object, but were powerless as an invisible force strapped them to metal tables.
"While we are probing your- minds, we would like to offer you the use of our virtual reality program."
"GUNDAMN WING!" Sara yelled. "PLEEEEAAAASSSSSEEE!"
"We have preselected a program for you, I'm afraid. It's a rather popular Earth show....the Z Files, I think?" (There is a loud BEEP as Rae goes into heart failure, and the alien waits a second for them to revive her before continuing). "We usually give each one of you roles, so you-" he pointed to Rae- "will be Agent...ah....Scullery-" BEEP (Rae goes into heart failure again). The alien turned to Michelle and Sara. "Does she do this often?"
"No," Michelle replied dryly. "Only when we get abducted."
"I see. Anyways, the child Michelle will be Margater-Magaret-Margerine- oh whatever the hell the back stabbing blonde bitch's name is-"
"Marita Covarrubias?"
"Indeed. And you, the child Sara, will be-" Sara screamed as she realized who she was going to be. "-Diana Fowley."
With that, the alien ship disappeared and the three girls found themselves in a tiny office shoved into the bottom of the FBI building in Washington. Rae looked around and then looked down.
"I'M SCUULLLLLLYYYYYYYY!!!!!" the joyful squeal could be heard in all the four corners of the world.
After they succeeded in pulling Rae off the ceiling fan, Michelle and Sara ran to the ladies' to check themselves out. Michelle screamed in horror.
"I'm BLONDE!!" Sara grabbed her and slapped her across the face.
"You think you're bad? Look at me!! I'm an over forty, ugly-ass-bitch with wrinkles and no chest!! I NEVER get any!! This isn't virtual reality! This is my FUTURE!!" Sara turned and attempted to drown herself in a drinking foutain. Rae and Michelle yanked her out and threw her on the floor.
"Sorry if we're being unhelpful here, but we've places to see and hot guys to do!" Rae checked her liptstick and raced out the door to find Mulder. Michelle looked at Sara, an evil smile on her face.
"Two words for you, my friend," she said. "HELLOOO, Krycek!" Then she too raced out the door. Sara pulled herself together.
"Ah, well...there's got to be someone around here I can screw..."
Meanwhile Fox Mulder was watching one of the dirty movies that "weren't his" and trying to organize his alien files when Scully walked in. "Put the files away Fox..."she purred.
Not looking up, he replied, "No can do, gotta get these organized." Scully stalked forward and knocked them all off his desk. He stared at her in surprise. "Scull-"
"Screw the files, Mulder," Rae said. She reached up and tore off all her clothes with one hand (hey, it's VR, she can do what she wants) "Or rather, screw me!"
Mulder's mouth dropped open. "What the hell took you so long?"

'Marita' meanwhile, had gone in search of her casual lover and incredibly hot Russian partner in crime, Alex Krycek. She found him with the Cigarrette Smoking Man, mixing a little business with pleasure. "Alex!" she commanded. He sprang up and ran to her like a whipped puppy.
"Yes, Marita?" he whispered. submissively. Michelle glanced over at the CSM and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
She crooked her finger. "Follow me!" She walked out of the room, followed closely by Alex who was panting and pawing at her exactly like a little puppy dog...but that was just because he was Alex and a horny bastard. Never had more fun been had in a closet with a just a pair of handcuffs and a LOT of whipped cream.

Sara, in character, was wandering aimlessly around the FBI building looknig for someone to either torment or have sex with, and was having trouble finding either. She checked the break room, the bathrooms, a variety of closets and the director's office, to no avail. In desparation she went down to the lowest level of the building where Mulder's office was. Before she even reached it she could hear odd noises and a hysterical squeaking that she knew to be Rae.
Suddenly she saw a male form crouching at the door and looking through the keyhole. Sighing, Sara steeled herself for what was to come. "Oh, Spender...."
******
Sadly, after only about two hours of this virtual fantasy, the girls found themselves back on the alien ship. The little green dude who had been inspecting them said, "Our probe is finished. We have gathered enough data to determine the cause of your collective psycho-sociopathic tendencies." He turned away and began to prepare to return them to Earth.
"Hey!" Sara yelled. "Aren't you going to tell us what you found out?"
"Oh yes," the alien said as the familiar green light surrounded them, "the problem is that you're all royally fucked up."
"WE KNEW THAT!!" the three yelled in unison as they disappeared from the ship.
*****
The next morning when the girls awoke, they were all naked in Rae's bed, they all had headaches and were having trouble remembering what had happened the night before. So far, everything was normal.
"It was a dream," Michelle said firmly later on.
"A really GOOD dream," Rae said, grinning.
Sara was quiet. "Well I have a question." She looked at Michelle. "If last night was all a dream, then why are you still wearing handcuffs?"
Michelle cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Rae.
"Oh...right."
Rae sighed. "I guess now we'll never know....."

~THE END~

My classes for next semester are as follows:

British Lit II
Intro to World Lit
Dogwood: The World of Publishing
Short Prose Fiction of Spain
Art Seminar: Mannerism
Philosophy of Tragedy


*the peasants rejoice* whooooo

Thoughts

I've been thinking almost too much in recent days, possibly because of the advent of so many new possibilities in my mind. Met today with Dr. Sapp, who liked my resume (go me!) and said I had an excellent chance of scoring some good internships. He mentioned a couple of publishing companies in the area, which would be interesting, as well as lots of opportunities in Manhattan, which I'm actually not eager to pursue. I don't like the city very much, really. I think he was surprised I had no aspirations to work at Cosmo or Glamour--but for one thing, journalism has never been my thing, and for another, I have no interest in being in that kind of high-intensity competitive environment where everyone is judging you not simply on the quality of your work, but your image. My image is not glam enough for that--I'll leave that sort of thing to flanny, future MTV VJ. Another opportunity he mentioned was working with non-profits, especially a woman who does grant-writing for low-income housing in bridgeport, which actually interested me, I don't know why. Actually, since I'm not looking for a summer internship, I don't have to meet with him again until....October.

Turns out that perhaps studying abroad wouldn't have worked out after all, no matter what. I have a double major to finish, obviously, and (I still have trouble believing this) a Fulbright application to begin work on next year, and then there's the possibility that has entered my mind of going to grad school. For what, I am not certain, but through poking around on various programs at various schools it is obvious that you need to have a combination of French, German, and Latin to study Comparative Lit or Art History, and sometimes even just plain English. Sigh. Why'd I have to choose Spanish again? Then again, if I pursued a Fulbright in Spain, it would be very very helpful. So pretty much, if I want to even consider grad school I need to learn Latin and take more Spanish courses, and possibly even an intro French course before I graduate. This may necessitate taking six courses a semester senior year--which might be trouble with internships--but sean made the good point, if I choose grad school, internships are actually not that important. Plus I can skip my AH internship and just take a class or an independent study, which I probably will wind up doing. Sigh. The only time I could take basic Latin would be fall of senior year, so sean has graciously offered to begin tutoring me, in the interim, if I decide I seriously want to pursue this. Dear God. Rae, you may have been right, Latin may have not been such a useless subject after all. Damn you and your toga-wearing compatriots!

So what can I really do about any of this next semester? Not much. I can begin applying for internships for the spring semester in the fall, and I can collect information about various grad schools before that. I intend to corner Regan before the end of term to ask him some questions about the Fulbright thing (is it bad form to hug your professor?), just so I have an idea of his end of the process, and next fall I guess I can start trying to figure out some kind of focus (picking either England or Spain would be a start, I think). Since I can't add on any more classes to next semester, I guess I'll have to wait on coursework. Oh, Dr. Sapp was convinced I can manage a Spanish minor in with all of this. How, I'm not sure. Perhaps a spring internship next year would not be a good choice, maybe I'll just take six classes instead? Who knows.

Whatever the future has, my head is reeling. This is what happens when I have far too much time on my hands to consider my future!!

Good Tidings

It could very well be that I have never been quite so happy; not even on the basis of any one thing in particular, but just in a general sense that my life is going in a direction that I enjoy. Sean, of course, is a large contributing factor to this overall sunny worldview. Not to overload anyone with saccharine, but it is true that when you find someone that you fit with so well, other things seem so much more manageable by comparison. Not studying abroad, for one thing; it's much easier to deal with the idea of not being able to go by focusing on the fact that Sean will be here. We've started looking into stuff for our spring break trip to Italy next year--it's going to be fabulous!

In addition, I figured that I can use spring semester to get an internship for my English major, if possible. Dr. Bridgford mentioned the possibility of getting an extremely entry level internship at the New Yorker, which would be absolutely amazing. I've given publishing a lot of thought recently, and it's an avenue to consider for a possible career. And hey, if I did decide I want to write somewhere along the line, I would be ideally situated to pull strings! I have to speak with a Dr. Sapp about the internship idea.

Finally and most amazing of all, Dr. Regan (who has by this action earned himself a permanent place in my Top 5 Professors of All Time (Dr. Bridgford and Jesus are there already)) wrote at the end of my last paper to ask if I would be interested in being nominated for a Fulbright Scholarship. My jaw dropped, especially since I was reading this at like 1am and already a little cracked out, and then spent another hour scrolling through lists of previous Fulbright recipients to see what kind of proposals they came up with. It's an incredible opportunity, and I'm still shocked that he considered me for it (and oh-so-thanking my lucky stars), even if it is highly unlikely that I'd actually get it. Meredith reports that the application process itself is difficult and very long, and the website listed over 5,000 applicants last year for about 1,000 slots. Plus the host country (which will have to be either Spain or England) has to accept you as well, plus I have no idea what I'd even propose to do.....but still, the idea of it!! A year abroad!! My cosmically-minded roommate is convinced this is God's providential way of making up for me not being able to study abroad. If that is the case, then God is definitely going above and beyond on this score.

Anyway, in contrast to those times when I look into the future and am a little disconcerted or uneasy about what I see, right now things are looking optimistic, and I like this feeling. It's a nice way to end the semester.

The End

The room is quiet. All I can hear is the sound of clicking keys; underneath, the low hum of the machines blankets the silence. My roommate lies on her bed, staring at the wall, saying nothing. Miscellania surrounds me--books, papers, things done and yet to do, lists of goals, projects, desires, all cluttered together, husks of moths around the monitor's flame. There is something in this room; something I hear faintly between the keystrokes. There. There. There--it is the sound of the end coming, slowly and swiftly, by turns; it is walking up the stair; it is turning a key in the lock. It is the image growing blurry as the camera moves backward, out of focus. It is the sound of water trickling down the drain as the tub empties and you suddenly feel the cold. It is the denouement, the maestro's final flourish, the credits rolling across a black screen.

It's everything being over. Ah, summer.

Number 5

So not only does my dad share his birthday with Van Gogh, he shares his anniversary with the birth of another genius, da Vinci. Interesting. I just share my birthday with Jimmy Carter. Oh well; here it is, number 5--any different from the rest, not really. My memories are just a year dimmer, that's all.

Today

Such lovely weather always gives me hope. I'll get through whatever's ahead, I know I will. Whenever something painful or bad looms ahead I try to focus on all the other things I've gotten past, the largest of course being what will be celebrating its fifth year on friday, and I remind myself of how far I've come since then, how proud he would be of me, of all of us. Things will work out as they should.

So Good!

I probably say this a lot--but what an awesome weekend!! Friday night involved the rather anti-climactic white trash party at my future casa, 121, which was preceded by me and Mike dressing up and applying our deliciously tacky tattoos (mine hasn't come off yet.) and followed by some amusing conversations online, although the only one I really remember is talking to rae about "self-help" *cough cough* and thoroughly embarassing meredith by mentioning her in the conversation.

It was Saturday that started the real fun. homemade italian, poker, and rum all make for a very enjoyable evening--especially since I won my first game of texas hold'em!! wheee!!! now my roommate owes me even more money that I will never ever see again. Sunday morning Mike and I had the most amazing steaks ever (I felt like I hadn't had a steak in FOREVER, and I still can't quite recall how long it had been. sooooo goood!) and we watched this disturbing show on Animal Planet called "world's most extreme breeder", about the weirdest animal reproductions. There's something weird about me and Sean's house and Animal planet--I never, ever watch it when I'm in my dorm room, but it seems every time I'm at Sean's it's all I wind up watching! It could be because he has like ten million channels but it's different than here at school, so I can never find a damn thing. Anyway, I learned about the difficult time the kiwi has in mating--apparently it's really hard to have sex if you're a wingless bird, very hard to balance. Poor guy couldn't kept falling all over his girlfriend.

After we got back Sean and I went up to the Zen garden, which is always so pretty, and proceeded to have a Basil Rathbone/Errol Flynn-esque battle with various sticks. I managed to break Sean's stick every time, leading him to denounce me as a "stick-buster", but what can I say? Mine were bigger. Size matters.

After watching "Operation Petticoat", one of the cary grant movies sean gave me, we went to la Salsa...they have like ten different kinds of salsa to pick from, and one in the corner was habanero, which is one of the spiciest peppers anywhere, so naturally sean dunks this chip it in and eats it and, after about five seconds, his tongue is on fire, he breaks a sweat and starts downing my soda. So Mike and I both take a tiny, tiny speck of the habanero (like 1/50th what sean ate!!), and jesus christ did I feel like my mouth was on fire! Never, ever again.

After we deposited "the kids" back at school, the two of us went down to the beach we visited in December, except on the public part where there are no swings and hence not ten million children. It was so beautiful, even though it faced east so the sun was setting behind us and not over the water. I'd love to live near the ocean when I'm older.

So this was my weekend, wonderfully spent with my friends and Sean and my crazy, beloved roommate. It's strange to think that when this semester ends, half of my college career will be over. All I can say is that I am indescribably thankful to be at the point in my life where I am today.

Something to Anticipate

Bridgford described my senior English seminar to me in an email--it's making a book, a book of all the work, ie poetry, I've done while at Fairfield, and adding to it, and publishing it in chapbook form.

That is the coolest seminar I have ever heard of.

So It Goes

Strange occurrences continue--my friend Adamo from Northwest asked me out online last night, in quite an awkward fashion. Wtf? Adamo? Our little art club pal? I haven't laid eyes on him since I graduated! Rae and I laughed about who inherited whose former crush, but I would like to note that hey, who was never liked by dan? And who never liked dan? oh yeah! i may have liked aaron "swamp thing" meadows, but at least he is not drawing furry animal porn these days. actually, he totally could be, i don't know what happened to him.

Another dream about my dad last night, the true herald of the April season. Nine days away and I'm still surprisingly together, though I did tear up at the end of Lost in A Good Book, (spoiler) when Thursday's father stops her from sacrificing herself to save the world and dies in her place instead. What can I say--mix together fathers, daughters, and someone's dying moment and it's hard not to cry. I remember a weeklong string of Simpsons a few years ago which alllll seemed to be about Homer's relationship with his kids, especially Lisa, and one was about him knowing he'd die the next day because he ate the poison blowfish. Would you believe I couldn't stop crying during that episode? Of course he survived, and ironically, even Thursday's dad comes back in the end, a different version of himself but still the same old Dad. That's why I love fiction--no one has to stay dead forever.

Oh well. I'm still here, I'm still me, and there's no indication any alternate version of my dad will be popping out of the timestream anytime soon. All for the best, as I have so many, many times decided, but on a day like today, when it is sunny and warm and you feel like all your relationships, no matter how complicated, will somehow be able to sort themselves out, on a day like today there's no harm in just wishing.

Meisner and Other Adventures

Would you believe I spent an entire Saturday night talking about religion--evolution vs creationism--Meisnering, and chatting?? It was a lot of fun, a very different kind of fun than last night's drunken revelry. For anyone who doesn't know, Meisner is this acting exercise Carla does for theater, very strange and awkward for a newbie, involving "reacting in the moment" and "calling out" whatever emotions you see in your partner. I didn't do so well, because I refused to invest in it and get really emotional. Big shocker--I don't like confrontation, I don't like having to tell someone I'm angry with them, much less yell it at them as Carla cheers from the sidelines, "Go deeper! How does that make you FEEL??". But it was interesting, and we plan to try doing it again next weekend when we sleep over at Sean's--homemade Italian food, plenty of booze, poker, and good times! Whoot!

Drunky Drunk

I have this to say:

1.) Never believe that life isn't full of surprises.
2.) I'm so sorry sean is sick, my poor little boyfriend!! :-( Feel better!

Not too drunk while writing this, so no major misspellings I hope. Glad I went out to the townhouses with the girls and Mike tonight. So good to see Wendy!!! Luke of the beautiful hair was manning the tap, ah, luscious. Carla = so drunk, bc she had only A SALAD for dinner then bacardi, beer, and gin!!

I love the world and tonight the world loves me. Bedtime with lovah!