rain rain rain, went to town with no umbrella, rushing to catch the bus. michelle is now a drowned rat. finally chose to ignore the annoying $14 price for books of poetry and bought billy collins' "sailing alone around the room". along with "nine horses", i have the beginnings of my own billy collins collection! on the bus on the way back, billy collins and elliot smith and the rain everywhere just falling down. the bottoms of my jeans are wet and cold. my feet are bare but i don't mind, the room is warm. i wish it were sunny but i know if it were i would just want to lie on the grass and do nothing but read and sadly our lives can't be so simple. i skipped work today, that's indolence enough. now i have things to accomplish, you must excuse me.

I choose not to be like you. Give me action over apathy any day.

it's raining and it's pouring. wendy and i are going to marist tomorrow and that's all that's holding me over. art history test today with the caravaggios and the strange terms like gesamtkunstwerk (Mr T i wonder if you would know this word). time for nibbles, then for scribbles. must run.

Today is my dad's birthday. he would have been 54. if today had been the way i am sure my parents planned their lives to be, we would have given him shirts and ties and Canoe cologne and things related to dilbert and the simpsons. on the card i would have written "to an amazing father"--or would i have? and would i have meant it? no knowing now, really. he saved every card i ever made him or gave him, you know. we found them in a huge pile in a box in his den.

i always feel like March 30 inaugurates this sort of count-down to April 15, the two short weeks between the celebration of birth and the celebration of death. I can always feel the shift in me because it shows in my writing. every year around this time, when most people would be writing about springtime and bunnies, i write about death. the irony. i wrote three in english class yesterday. running through my now immense Poems file on my computer, i noticed the transition: one post-spring break prose piece about a lighthouse, two rather angry poems about the Passion (not the film, the event), one love poem, and then three death poems. maybe i shouldn't call them death poems. they're not gory or gloomy, really. they're just sad, i suppose.

this is a poem by the Poet Laureate, Louise Gluck:


A Fantasy

I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.

Then they're in the cemetery, some of them
for the first time. They're frightened of crying,
sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,
tells them what to do next, which might mean
saying a few words, sometimes
throwing dirt in the open grave.

And after that, everyone goes back to the house,
which is suddenly full of visitors.
The widow sits on the couch, very stately,
so people line up to approach her,
sometimes take her hand, sometimes embrace her.
She finds something to say to everbody,
thanks them, thanks them for coming.

In her heart, she wants them to go away.
She wants to be back in the cemetery,
back in the sickroom, the hospital. She knows
it isn't possible. But it's her only hope,
the wish to move backward. And just a little,
not so far as the marriage, the first kiss.

this reminds me of my mother, but of course i will never show it to her.

I can't believe the year is ending. In some ways it feels like life has always been this way, but then i remember high school and it feels like only yesterday that we were cramming for the APs and all talking about prom. it's just insane. has it really been like six months of this life? i guess i can't even compare it to the senior year of high school, because that was four years coming to a close, there was so much more built up in that experience. still, i looked around our little room last night and felt really sad that we have to leave. even if all goes as planned and wendy and i occupy room 207 in Loyola next year, it won't be the same. we won't have our little corner, our little window at the end of the hall....this is where it all began, it just seems so incredibly special that i hate to leave it behind. there is also the practical concern of having to go home, of having to get a job, of dealing with my family, of missing everyone from school. not just my friends who i will hopefully see, but all the other people i randomly see and like. plus the men, naturally. cough. actually no, for me men are literally "out of sight, out of mind". example: i never think about the former ducks anymore, unless someone brings them up, ie rae and her "y'all want some sweet tea" experience in the south.

listening to billy joel....wendy has the soundtrack to the "movin on out" musical going. "uptown girl" is currently playing. that girl had a WILD night last night lol. tsk tsk. how can i live with someone who doesn't parade around delivering a hilariously theatrical oration about the events of the previous drunken evening? or who has clothes i consistently borrow? yes im wearing a wendy shirt right now.

last year this time we were all thinking about prom like i said....apparently we have something similar here, the Dogwood Dance, at some hotel in bridgeport. i'm deciding if i want to go....some of my friends are. i'd have to get a dress, though...a date, probably not, unless it's one of my guy friends who i will simply designate "the date" lol. i'd like to actually ask a guy, in fact i have one in mind who is genuinely nice and cool even though he's not that cute, but a.) i don't want him to think i love him and b.) prom-esque events are not great dates with people you rarely know.

now rae's harassing me about guys i've liked and dated. meanie. all i have to say is DAN O-FUCKING ROURKE. :-)

the past few days have been quite exhausting. the yale tournament went really well; jamie and i are thinking that we went 3-2, which is good. the area of new haven around yale is really beautiful, i'll give that much to sean and his "havens", although i still decry the general area as a slum with bad pizza. i had much more fun this tournament because i really felt like i knew what i was doing; i really like being Leader of Opposition/Member of Government (as opposed to prime minister/member of opposition, the latter of which is the last of the four big speeches and the hardest for me because you have to be really organized to respond to everything)--this time even all my speeches were about 8 minutes; last tournament jamie dubbed me a "five-minute wonder", which is not exactly a good thing. i'd mention some of the funny shit that happened with cases and such but it's late, i'm tired, and all we do after and during a debate is talk about debate anyway. meredith and i carved our initials, both MDs, and "FU" with hearts into the wooden desks in the general assembly auditorium. our mark has been left on yale. we also carved in "pinky gleason" but he got mad and made us scratch it out. pffft.

i'm sure a lot of people have heard by now how there's a giant hole in I95 bc a truck blew up on it. this means that EVERYONE takes the two-lane merritt parkway now. it's hell. with sean at the wheel of his buick, changing lanes with one hand on the wheel while talking on a cell phone and without looking, it's a very interesting ride. even more so coming back friday night, as meredith and i had to cram ourselves into the front seat together to fit three guys in the back. we have reached a new threshold in our relationship, i believe.

tonight was fun. went to the improv show, which kicked ass as usual although my dear ryan farias was absent, then went over to the levee to catch the main band of the evening, "Q Not U". it was punk, and pretty damned good; there was a mosh pit going on and you could tell 90 percent of the audience was NOT from FU. i found out my pal nikki is in ignatian, which is cool, i love nikki. everyone harassed pete about his smoking habits, in the hopes that peer pressure can fix the same problem it began. no luck yet but we'll keep trying. i went to meredith's room after, everyone was hanging out there, and we played "dirty minds", a game where the point is to avoid the obvious and very dirty answer to solve the riddles. predictably, the popham-mike team came out on top and the digiov-dahts team on bottom, myself and sean were nicely in the middle.

i really am fucking tired. part of me wishes i could go hang out with the guys tonight, because i have a lot of fun just being in an environment full of men sometimes because they have just a different basic approach to everything, but i have no energy and yes, i'm kinda wimpy without wendy. she would go right into someone's room, say "what's up" and sit down; i am not so forward, but i know that with these guys you kind of have to be, cause they never bother organizing anything, people just show up.

in conclusion, good couple of days. damn tomorrow being sunday, i wanted to be at least a bit intoxicated sometime this weekend. next weekend, though, watch out marist. heehee. no, i'm kidding. i would never ever get really drunk when i'm going to have to sleep in an unfamiliar place. esp if i have to sleep on a top bunk! jesus! i'd fall off and die. ok yeah i'm done. goodnight.

i wrote the poem below in spanish class today. i really think that just sleeping next to someone else is one of the best things in life, though it would be so much better in a big bed (i'm recalling the time that i got claustrophobic, elbowed fusco and told him to get the fuck away from me completely in my sleep). when i was younger, like ten or eleven, i wanted to be married because i wanted to have someone there with me every night. one of my regrets about greg is that in all the time we dated, i never got the chance to sleep next to him or to wake up beside him.

tonight was registration for ignatian. i felt like complete and utter shit, halfway between wanting to throw up and wanting to cry. it was supposed to be this cool celebratory thing, with everyone laughing with their future roommate, and i'm just there thinking over and over, why the fuck isn't wendy here with me? assholes, she totally belongs there. plus there was the room choice issue--we chose our rooms by lottery, right there, you and your roommate. i had originally put in as a single so i could wait to see if wendy gets in, but then they told us singles we had to pair off right then or they'd do it for us. i wanted to die. then, however, god stepped in to save my ass and sent over carla from down the hall, whose roomie wants to go to nyu. she's a theater kid and friends with wendy, which is definitely good. we signed up as roommates and got the very last room on the coed second floor, diagonally across from meredith and amanda. i don't know how this will work out for next year in terms of having a triple or not; we'll have to wait and see what happens.

after it was all over i took a long walk. following sara's advice from earlier, i betook myself to the chapel, which was deserted and very peaceful. i was telling meredith earlier that even though i don't have a clear definition of what i believe in terms of god, i can't help keeping the patriarchal image of him as the old man with the beard in my mind when i pray. just like i can't help but cross myself, i feel the need to designate with some kind of symbol that this time is more than just me thinkin to myself, this is me communicating with the powers that be. i don't do the whole formal prayer thing, and there was nowhere to kneel anyway, so i just kind of closed my eyes and thanked god for sending carla, right at the critical moment, and also asked that wendy not be left out, but given what she really does deserves. i even asked for guidance, which i like never do because i dont know what the hell (ironic) is supposed to be guiding me. my mom said she prayed for me last night, maybe that helped. she said she'd put up a notice on the nuns' prayer board, get the whole convent on my side. it can't hurt, right?

Carpe Diem

Poets, philosophers, and all manner
of wise men have written
of the simple pleasures of life,
all that which is free
and without entanglements.
The cat’s rumbling purr
under the hand,
the play of light
across the floor of the room
during a lazy afternoon,
laughter echoing
through the quiet house—
all these are free,
and without entanglements.

There is the cool drink
during the four-day heat wave,
the massage the shag rug
gives to bare feet,
the sparks of static that crackle
and fly from blankets
newly pulled from the dryer.
These things are also free,
and without entanglements.

Further, there are thunderstorms,
the ionized smell of air before the rain,
puddles and leaf-piles that beg
to be jumped in;
there is the warm cup of tea,
the cashmere sweater,
the varied scents of the spice cabinet
in the kitchen.
All these things too are free,
and without entanglements.

Yet there is also the touch of bodies
under cool sheets,
the languid play of hands over skin,
the warm breath against the neck.
There is the scent of cologne,
the chests that rise and fall in unison,
and the hands intertwined
on the comforter.
None of these are free
nor without entanglements,
but I will take that risk
for your heart’s rhythm
is an echo of my own,
and even the dust motes
are dancing with joy
as the early morning light
creeps across the floor.

Real Name: removing name so no googling
Birthday: October 1, 1985
Screen Name: the lazarus cat
Eye color: Brown
Hair Color: dark Brown
Natural Hair Color: dark Brown, i swear
height: 5'8"
Who do you love/like: too many men for my own good
location: In my dorm room at FU
Siblings: 1 sister

--Favorite--
Number: 15
Color: Blue, black, purple
Place: Spain
Game: Spin the Bottle. just kidding--Snood or Bookworm
Magazine(s): Cosmo and Maxim
CD: APC "Mer de Nomms"
Singer: Maynard, Elliot Smith, the guy from coldplay, Rufus Wainwright
Internet activity: reading online journals, away-message stalking lol
food: pasta
tv station: Fuse


---Do You---
Cut urself: No
Take meds you shouldnt: No
Pick your nose: ew
Lick urself: not generally, no
Whine a lot: yes, probably
Yell a lot: no
Hate a lot of people: i don't hate anyone, i just dislike people
Get grounded often: wow, i haven't been grounded since i was fourteen
Have too many friends: no, just right
Want to die: nope, still a virgin, i've got places to see and people to do
Believe in life after death: yes, but i don't know what exactly i believe
Go to church: no
Love school: yes
Have a bf/gf: no
Smoke: No
Do drugs: no
Wear dark colors: Yes
Try to be different: In some ways i suppose yes, but just in the way i am i'm already different than most of the population at FU, i don't have to try. For emphasis, see this week's "He said/she said" in The Mirror
Have any piercings: one per ear
Watch porn: sometimes, for comic value
Dye your hair: no, sadly


---Have you ever----
Kissed someone: Yes
Frenched someone: Yes (i love the juvenile nature of this survey)
Attempted suicide: no
Killed someone: no
Shopped for condoms: why shop when you can get them free?
Smoked: No
Gotten Drunk: Not drunk off my ass, but drunk enough to be silly
Worn rainbow: uh, what?
Talked on the phone for over 3 hours: Yes
Left the country: yes
Had a party with over 30 people: no
Taken nude pictures: definitely no
Taped yourself having sex: see above
Stolen something: when i was little i stole a piece of bazooka gum once, and a fabric flower from the floor of a craft store
Broken a bone: No
Ran away from home: Almost
Burned yourself: Not on purpose
Caught something on fire: Yes
Cheated on someone: No
Wanted to cheat on someone: briefly
Fell in love online: *thinks of meredith's friends* no thank god
Asked someone out: yes
Been dumped: No
Dumped someone: yes
Had a dream then the next day it happens: no
Called a porn hotline: no

Pick One
Cat/Dog: cat!
White/Black: Black
Hot/Cold: Cold
Far/Near: far
Water/Land: land
Kiss/Sex: sex
Online/Phone: Phone
Beer/Book: Book, how is this even a question, they're so different
Novel/Poetry: Novel to read, poetry to write
Music/Silence: depends on the mood


are you...
Understanding: Yes
Open-minded: generally
Arrogant: i hope not
Insecure: of course
Interesting: yes
Hungry: yes, i'm doing this stupid survey to pass time till dinner
Smart: yes
Moody: sometimes
Childish: no
Hard working: yes
Organized: fairly so
Healthy: fairly so
Emotionally Stable: yes
Shy: no
Difficult: with my mom and sister, oh yes
Attractive: most of the time
Bored Easily: eh....sometimes....we all know i have "Male ADD"
Messy: not really
Thirsty: no
Responsible: Yes.
Obsessed: no
Angry: right now, yes
Sad: yes
Happy: in the general sense of life yes, right now no
Trusting: pretty much
Ill: no
Talkative: god yes
Legal: yes
Original: I'm unique, just like everyone else.
Ignored: not usually
lazy: no
Reliable: yes
Deep thinker: when i feel like it
Self-disciplined: i try
Sleepy: no
Lonely: nope

~WHO DO YOU WANT TO~
Kill: names shall be withheld, except for jen, everyone knows that one
Slap: PB-- then i will say please, for the love of god will you just have sex with my roommate? no, i'm lying, i'd never do that. unless i were really drunk...hmm....there's an idea...
Get Really Wasted With: Friends
Tickle: Tommy, he's so damn easy
Talk to: my mom, we didn't have a great convo last time

~if someone gave you...~
$1,000,000: Save some, fix the tahoe, have a small shopping spree involving the purchase of several books, and give some to my mom
a stick of gum: Chew it
a cow: sell it, they're worth a few hundred
A BRAND NEW CAR: depends on the type, i could just sell it and fix the tahoe lol
a child: give it back quickly

damn it it's STILL not time for dinner! gah!

I finished the DaVinci Code today at work. It was excellent, but the ending felt like a bit of a let-down. I'm very interested to figure out how much of what Brown wrote is fiction and how much is truth. I've read books involving the Priory and the Merovingian dynasty before, most notably a book by my favorite author called "The Serpent Garden". Lots of symbolism invovled in painting in that book, too, but not as exhaustive as the davinci code--it reminded me about this other book called the Magic Circle, which was a hugely complicated plot involving lost fragments of the bible, with a lot of runes and codes and a woman trying to unravel her bloodline. The Grail mythology is fascinating, but i confess i'm automatically suspicious of any book that centers on huge Church conspiracies. after what, fifteen years of experience in the RCC i fail to see it as a sinister organization. the pope and the cardinals are holy men who do what they believe is the will of god, whether i believe in that or not. i totally agreed with brown on the bible being a work of man. i think people get too caught up in deciding whether it's completely utterly true in every word or whether it's a complete fiction. it's called the greatest story ever told, but that puts it in the wrong light. undoubtedly there is inspired material in there, great words of wisdom--just reading Psalms alone is amazing--and undoubtedly there is some made-up stuff as well. like every other sacred writing, it has a lot to offer.

amusingly, the girl next to me at work really hated the davinci code because of the way he portrayed the opus dei organization. her mother is apparently a very committed member! however, any organization can be portrayed in an awful light and made the center of a conspiracy, that's what makes it a fiction. how many books have been written about the Freemasons and their evil plots to take over the world, how they are descended from the Knights Templar and write in code and have secret rituals yada yada yada. So what? it's a big clubhouse for boys only. i think the ritual and symbolism is awesome. i wanted to BE a mason when i was a little girl (till i discovered it was a boys' club). my dad and sara's dad were masons. they were not interested in world domination. their books are in code for the same reason davinci wrote backwards--paranoia. the freemasons historically feared the inquisition, and davinci feared people stealing his ideas or persecuting him for freethinking. the code's not even that hard, because i once picked up one of my dad's masonic manuals and started reading it out to him. he was so surprised lol. all they do is switch a few letters around.

oh, and i would love it if jesus and mary magdelene were getting it on. Dying a thirty-three year old Jewish virgin still living with his mom is just too depressing. the book claimed there's a lot of evidence that mary magdelene was a noblewoman etc etc, but i've never seen or heard of any of that, and i'm sure some feminist groups would be announcing it from the rooftops. plus, the whole point of the story of the magdelene is to show christ's compassion for the sinners and the disadvantaged. what kind of a lesson is it that jesus befriended a rich girl? all the people he associated with were of the lower classes, all his apostles were common working men. it makes little sense for her to have been of the upper classes.

finally, i whipped out my art history book to take a closer look at the last supper, which brown claims shows mary magdelene next to jesus. i definitely noticed a disembodied hand with a dagger, and maybe you could claim the figure called mary is girlish and has a lumpy chest, but if you ask me, jesus looks pretty feminine too. i'm not sure, i meant to ask jesus (teacher) about it in AH today but we were doing velazquez and i got distracted lol. i kind of doubt what brown was saying is a generally accepted artistic interpretation, but da vinci seems like the kind of guy who would have loved fooling with people's heads.

this book definitely makes you think. i could keep talking about it for a while but we have the faculty debate tonight, then a debate meeting, then wendy and i are hitting the gym. i'm reading a fantastic article in this month's cosmo entitled "when fathers die". yeah, this is a really awesome gym read, let me tell you. :-)

In The Last 48 Hours, Have You:

01. Cried: almost
02. Bought something: yes
03. Gotten sick: no
04. Sang: in my head
05. Eaten:yes
06. Been kissed: yes :-)
07. Felt stupid: yes
08. Wanted to tell someone you loved them, but didn't: no
09. Met someone new: yes, all wendy's little friends
10. Moved on: nothing to move on from
11. Talk to an ex: yes, a few actually
12. Missed an ex: no
13. Talked to someone you have a crush on: yes
14. Had a serious talk: yes
15. Missed someone: my friends
16. Hugged someone: yes
17. Fought with your parents: no, ain't it beautiful?
18. Dreamed about someone you can't be with: not an actual dream, because god knows i never get to dream about things i actually want to dream about, but fantasizing, hells yeah

Social Life:
01. Best girl friend: lots: sara, heather, rae, meghan, wendy, meredith, amanda, lauren
02. Best guy friend: James, TJ, Sean
03. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: very happily single
04. If no, current dating partner: see above
05. Hobbies: writing, debate team
06. Pager: Kinda pointless with a cellphone (why is this question even here? how OLD is this survey?)
07. Are you center of attention or the wallflower: center, i guess
08. What type automobile do you drive: a red 96 Tahoe
09. What type automobile do you wish you drove: black 1969 Corvette Stingray
10. Would you rather be with friends or on a date: friends
11. Where is the best hangout: in someone's room, the East Windsor Diner, flanny's house
12. Do you have a job: Admissions Office
13. Do you attend church: no
14. Do you like being around people: most of the time

Who:
01. Have you known the longest: Sara, technically since third grade
02. Do you argue the most with: my mother
03. Do you always get along with: Wendy, Sara, Rae, Heather (let's ignore our less enlightened years of high school)
04. Is the most trustworthy: i trust all of my friends. well, my guy friends i wouldn't tell so much stuff, but that's cause they're guys, not because i don't trust them.
05. Makes you laugh the most: Heather, Sara
06. Has been there through all the hard times: Sara, Heather and Rae
07. Has the coolest parents: Flanny. No one beats Mama Flanagan and "Doc Flanny" (which i call him in my mind but i've never had the balls to say it out loud lol)
08. Has the coolest siblings: Khara, because Brian is the hottest thing on this earth
09. Is the most blunt: Heather
10. Is the smartest: probably Rae or Popham

Personal:
01. Who is your role model: i don't have one
02. What are some of your pet peeves: arrogance & ignorance
03. Have you ever liked someone you had no chance with: yes
04. Have you ever cried over the opposite sex: once or twice
05. Do you have a "type" of person you always go after: no, they seem to be all over the map
06. Have you ever lied to your best friend(s): Yes
07. Ever wanted to get revenge on someone because they hurt you: Yeah but i've never done anything about it.
08. Would you rather be dumper or dumped: dumper
09. Rather have a relationship or a "hookup": at the moment, a relationship is the furthest thing from my mind, but I'm not into random hookups. they're pointless. but it's not really random if you know them, right? *wink*
10. Want someone you don't have right now: a little
11. Ever liked your best guy friend: no, i've never had one before
12. Do you want to get married: not thinking about it at present
13. Do you want kids: no
14. Do you believe in psychics: i didn't, but my mom's experience in october was definitely intriguing
15. Do you believe you know the person whom you will marry at this point in time: ha! no
16. What is your favorite part of your physical appearance: my face
17. What is your favorite part of your emotional being: that i'm not weak
18. Are you happy with you: mostly
19. Are you happy with your life: mostly
20. If you could change something in your life right now, what would it be: I would be able to mold myself into the way I would love to look
[ Current Clothes ] jeans and wendy's monkey shirt
[ Current Mood ] conflicted
[ Current Music ] eh, Fuse.....i don't know what song this is
[ Current Taste ] brownie
[ Current Make-up ] pink eye shadow
[ Current Hair ] down and freakishly straight
[ Current Annoyance ] IRC
[ Current Smell ] dorm room
[ Current thing I ought to be doing] reading
[ Current Desktop Picture ] El Greco's "View of Toledo", which is also on a postcard on my wall and a large poster on my wall. i think i should change this.
[ Current Favorite Artist ] El Greco, Titian, and I'm becoming enamored of Michelangelo
[ Current Favorite Group ] APC
[ Current Book you're reading ] DaVinci Code
[ Current CD in CD Player ] Apocalyptica
[ DVD in player ] eh, none
[ Current Color Of Toenails ] pink
[ Current Refreshment ] powerade red
[ Current Worry ] wendy
last car ride: back to Fairfield from Oxford
last kiss: Tommy on Saturday night. mmmmm.
last good cry: Tuesday
last library book checked out: "Duchess of Milan" and "Artemis Fowl"
last movie seen: Pirates!
last book read: see above
last cuss word uttered: FUCK
last beverage drank: water
last food consumed: brownie
last crush: TFB who appears to be gay
last phone call: sara
last tv show watched: wow can't remmeber
last time showered: last night
last shoes worn: sneakers
last CD played: apocalyptica
last item bought: awful local newspaper at this tiny little grocery store in woodbury ct....they didnt even have the NY Times
last downloaded: Maroon 5
last annoyance: a lot of things
last disappointment: fucking IRC
last thing written: a couple of poems today in English class that i'll be playing with after this
last word spoken: bye
last IM: Tommy
last ice cream eaten: can't remember
last time amused: dinner
last time hugged: a few hours ago
last time scolded: my mom, last night
last chair sat in: desk chair
last lipstick used: lip gloss
last time dancing: with wendy
last show attended: wendy's friend's one-man show
last web page visited: lauren's journal

the day gets better and better. we're not going to even bother complaining about paper grades, because they were Bs and that's ok, in the long run. single grades aren't something to kill myself over. i would still be fuming about them, though, if something that was truly bad hadn't happened when i got home. wendy is not in the IRC. them putting her name on the roster was a mistake for which they apologized profusely when she went to see them today. this is a multi-faceted dilemma. i did not want to do IRC until wendy declared she was. my friends then also became convinced as did almost everyone on both subfree floors of campion. basically, all my friends and everyone i know are moving into the IRC next year. however, i love wendy and i can't imagine not living with her. we settled the day we moved in that we wanted to stay roommates as long as possible. it's still possible for wendy to get in if someone else declines. however, if i sign the commitment form on thursday, i am not allowed to pull out if she does not get in. you are supposed to have a roommate already for IRC; what do i say, that i have one but you're not letting her in?? also, i'm not allowed to throw my lot in both with wendy and with regular housing at the same time. if wendy and i ignore IRC and go for regular housing, we will most likely wind up in Kostka Klaver, which are on the other side of campus. i won't see my friends. we will be living the the annoying drunken fairfield population that, thus far, i have been so lucky as to avoid being exposed to on the whole. i can't imagine that, either. i love all my friends, i love the atmosphere of having people i know around. i don't want to go to some other stupid dorm, but neither do i want to make wendy go alone to some stupid dorm! i don't want to live with anyone else, some girl i don't know! so basically i must choose by thursday. everything in me is telling me to sign the paper and hope to god that wendy gets in. if she doesn't i don't know what i'll do, but i know that i would be really unhappy living away from all my friends. meredith advised me to go with wendy and complain. sara told me to go pray. i think i'll do both. wendy and i are meeting at the gym later to work out and bitch. hopefully we can plan a course of action. the thought keeps recurring--how can i possibly live with anyone but wendy??? most people in IRC settled their roommates weeks and weeks ago. i thought wendy and i had our situation settled before anyone else! fuck the goddamned IRC for fucking everything up. goddamit.

my el greco poster is up on the wall, finally and at last. goddamned thing absolutely refused to stay on. wendy and i have noted that almost all of our attempts to make anything adhere to our walls and ceilings has failed. coming back to school was a trip, literally and figuratively. i spent the day in the picturesque town of woodbury at a rehearsal wendy's working on with her beloved director Frome. antique stores abounded and it seemed every house was historic and beautiful. i was so relieved to be home, or what i consider to be home. i missed this room so much, missed my friends and my campion. good to be back.

well i had a prepared post that i typed at wendy's house last night after getting home from her friend mike's concert at this pretentious little french place called Cafe Atlantique, but methinks it needs a bit of editing. i'm rereading it now. lol yes it will definitely be edited, i sound like such an overexcited idiot. here's part: "Mmmm…tonight. I went with Wendy and her mom to a kind-of Bunji concert, a local band that she’s loved for years, except it was only the front guy, Mike, who’s an old friend of hers. He was cute; he hugged me when I was introduced as the roommate which gave him immediate points in my book. He hugged me goodbye too. Whee. The music was awesome; Wendy bought his solo cd and I’ll be burning it oh yes I will. He played four different guitars and sang with an extremely sexy voice. Wendy tells me he taught himself to play guitar and can’t read notes. Damn. He was incredibly talented, and only the distraction presented by Tommy kept me from paying complete and utter attention to the music. " (this is where it gets silly). suffice it to say that Wendy and I are going to Marist the first weekend in April for Tommy's birthday. he actually extended the invite to heather and sara too, i don't know how that would work or if they'd want to go. wendy thinks this is all her doing. we'll give her the credit.

i'll write this, because i want to remember it: we stood outside the cafe in the rain to say goodbye; me, wendy, her mother and tommy. he hugged me and i was tempted to kiss him, but i didn't. i was so annoyed at myself as he hugged the other two. then they turned to go, and he held out his arms to hug me again, and we kissed. there--a moment i want to freeze in time, snip right out and put in the scrapbook of my life. i don't care about anything that happened before or what happens now. i just want to remember that i kissed him there in the rain. needless to say i smiled the whole way home.

i'm leaving in an hour for wendy's house, there to spend the remainder of a spring break which has been decidedly less spring-ey than anticipated. oh well. we're going to paint parts of her house tomorrow. i'm having flashbacks to that most interesting time when my dad paid me and sara to paint my sister's room while she was in europe. we did a horrible job, in my opinion, and left choice words painted into her closet, which she has never noticed but my mom did once after i told her where to look. heehee. my cats already realize i'm leaving; they hate the sight of the suitcases. sapphire bit me. how nice.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all ye Irish, and even to those who aren't. Usually my only thoughts for the irish concern my love of potatoes and my annoyingly pale skin, which i also blame on the scottish. funny, i've never even consciously given thought to the fact that i have irish ancestors, people who actually lived on the Emerald Isle. when i think of my largely faceless ancestry, i see an almost endless line of dark-haired, mediterranean people, not the pale skin and fair hair that was apparently common on my mother's side of the family. funny that i feel no affinity for the green landscapes of ireland or scotland, while i've always wanted to see italy and syria. maybe it has to do with knowing nothing of and not associating with my mother's half of the family. an irishwoman takes her grudges to the grave.

oh yes, i honored my heritage earlier by mixing myself a screwdriver. i'm not very good at mixing drinks; i could taste far too much of the vodka in it. wendy called from long island, where she is getting spectacularly drunk as usual in the company of tommy and some of his friends. listening to their drunken revelry over the phone made me slightly sad that i had nothing to do tonight. i was invited to come along, but it would have been way too much of a hassle to get there, especially after the long drive back from the cape. i was also reminded by my roommate of certain things that i could be taking advantage of right now if i were there, if i so desired. the thing is, i actually don't desire. all i feel like doing is sleeping next to someone who's warm and smells nice. i think that's one of the simpler pleasures life has to offer. how annoying that is so often comes with complications attached!

back from my slightly abbreviated vacation to the cape, which was fun even in its short duration. i don't even want to think about how much money i've spent recently. the tahoe is a very expensive car even when you've got people splitting the gas bill with you. wendy wanted me to take a train to grand central to meet her and tommy tomorrow for the parade but there's just no way, plus i need some R&R. i went out and got some books from the library today, old favorites: "the duchess of milan" "ladylord" and "artemis fowl: the eternity code" *cough*. ok the last one is not exactly a classic book, but i read it during an afternoon spent sitting in borders because i didnt feel like paying 22 bucks for a tiny kids book, even if it was the thrilling conclusion to a trilogy. yes, i like artemis fowl, even if it's nowhere near harry potter quality. oh and i rented "blazing saddles" and "emma" and stocked up on food i'll actually eat. and now i'm snowed in and my mom has my car. i doped up all the cats with catnip and the dog is passed out on the kitchen floor.

this feels like the old days, it feels like high school--nighttime, empty house, me tidying the kitchen, talking to the pets or turning the radio up really loud just to hear some noise. watching the snow come down, i almost feel like i should be listening for school closings. the only clue that this is not what it was is my suitcase standing in the middle of my room. the shot glasses on my table are a clue too, actually--shot glasses that my mom bought for me at a thrift store without asking any questions when i told her a friend of wendy's wanted them. tomorrow is st. patty's day but i have no plans to celebrate my heritage. i wish it were closer to the weekend to so i could be looking forward to going to wendy's.

time to veg some more!

i realized that this has been the longest span of time i have consecutively been away from home. first semester there seemed to be a bunch of reasons to go home a couple of times at least. now it's been two months since i was here, and everything's just a little bit surreal, like i'm here yet not. i already kind of miss school. i needed and wanted a break, but home is so different. there are no people here, which is both a good and bad thing. tonight i'm tired and antisocial, so it's a good thing. went out with the family, always a pleasure. yes, my wonderful sister is at home, screaming and yelling and stomping around and leaving messes and manhandling my cats. grrr.

we got into a fight at dinner about reverend al sharpton--she actually think's he a good leader, she even said she'd vote for him! she heard him speak at an anti-war rally in DC and thinks he's great, despite the fact that he has absolutely no government experience, dubious political views, and a habit of throwing himself into the spotlight wherever possible. i distrust him. i would pick BUSH over him. speaking of whom, my mom's planning to vote for him because she doesn't like kerrry. she did concede that if by any miracle clinton could run again, she would put her faith in him. damn constitution.

i had a cat sleeping in my lap this evening. it was sweet. i missed my kitties.

who's ready to see if i can handle fusco for five days without drowning him in the atlantic? :-)

last night was a blast aside from one bad thing that happened. sara and heather were here, we went to a concert at the levee which reminded me how much i love live music, then we hung out in our room with a couple of the guys from down the hall and sara's hot irish friend pat and his friend kevin, and also wendy's attractive friend Tommy (in the words of heather, perhaps i will tap that). good times until pete from down the hall made wendy really upset by mentioning how he hates theater people, of whom my roommate is definitely one, even htough he made clear he didnt mean her, just everyone else. she was still really upset about it and there's some bad air there.

today is sara's birthday! she ate ice cream for breakfast and almost fell asleep in my art history class because jesus turns the lights off. i love having the two of them here; i'm so glad im going home after this because i couldn't just go back to regular fairfield with no crazy sara/heather action!!

now it's time for spring break! whoohoo!

"I know I dont know you
but I want you
so bad

Everyone has a secret
oh can they keep it
oh no they can't"

~Maroon 5

three more classes stand between me and freedom. sara and heather will be here on thursday. i'm so bored right now i feel like i'm going to go crazy. i don't want to do anything: i don't want to read, write, watch tv, listen to music, surf the net, nothing. correction: i know exactly what i would like to do, there is something i would love to run down the hall and do right now, but i can't. and it's driving me crazy.

well i just talked to sara for about an hour and a half. it was exactly what i needed, and of course she called being crazy-bored too because as we've established over and over WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. yes, contrary to all popular belief, i am in fact puerto rican. who knew? i feel more at peace with myself now, less nervous energy, i cackled and giggled most of it out. i can't wait till she and heather get here. it's going to be like the old days again, the windsor crowd reunited (minus our beloved rae who is not a windsor person after all but a hartford gal)! this damned snow better stop falling!

i missed 11:11 again tonight. funny that there are so few wishes that i would write on this page for the world to see. perhaps the least incriminating (because the secret wishes usually are, they betray how petty or weak we are to desire such things) wish is the universal one: "i want to be happy". it's not like i'm desperately unhappy right now; i'm perfectly fine. it's more like a benediction for the future, a hope that sometime soon i will achieve some sort of Shangri-La euphoric stage in my life where i fully recognize that everything around me is wonderful. it's also a desire that i have absolutely no idea how to go about fulfilling on my own. i don't even know what would make me so euphorically happy or if such is even possible. there is also the complication that in certain cases what would make me happy would make someone else i love unhappy; how can one possibly deal with that except to hope that the desire fades?

tingling fingers and a head full of Ginsberg and Whitman--what a way to end the evening.

i want to dream of a prince who sings the body electric.

1. If you could leave tonight and travel to any destination for a vacation, where
would it be and why?
It would be Florence, where I could run around and see all the amazing artwork and flirt shamelessly with locals. Oh, and first I would learn how to say "take off your pants". ("rimuova i vostri pantaloni", thank you BabelFish)
2. If you won the lottery, what would be the first thing you would buy or do with
the money?
Fix the Tahoe!
3. If you had to choose only one color you could wear for the rest of your life what would it be?
If I could wear shades of said color, then blue; if not, black.

4. If you could change one thing about this world, what would it be?
People everywhere would worship me.

5. If you could change one person's life situation, who would you choose and what would you do for them?
I would make my mother happy any way she wants.

6. If you could go back to another decade/time period for a day which would you
choose and why?
I’d go back to April 14th, 2000, and tell my dad how much I love him.

7. If you could change one physical quality about yourself what would it be?
I would have the body of someone who models for Victoria’s Secret. Combine that with this mind and I’d be golden, baby!

8. If you had the chance to say something to the president face to face what would you say?
I really don’t know. I wouldn’t be rude, though; that really accomplishes nothing.

9. If you could meet someone famous who would it be?
Colin Firth. I would rape him.

last night wendy and i went to the townhouses for her friend heather's birthday party, it was fun, although we only stayed an hour and a half due to some reasons of wendy's. two of my building's sub free RAs were present, THAT was comfortable. they just laughed and said it was ok, but still, freaky. also disturbing was playing a game of flip-cup across from Joe DeMarzo, older brother of chrissy and sam who live in sub-free and who obviously shares my dad's name. cooler events included meeting the adorable but gay ryan farias and being introduced to philosophy boy *cough*. i also met a girl who i thought was pretty cool, and who told me that she thought i was cool and that i should stop by her townhouse sometime, only to figure out that she's the sketchy bisexual girl who hits on wendy. yeeeah. don't think i'll be taking her up on that invitation. we came back here and hung out with the guys in pete's room for a while, which was fun....sean's friends, "the boys of summer" were also here, one of which, iannone, is reeeeeallly hot but dates a girl at PC; one of the others was cute but wicked short. much trella-bashing in the short time i spent with them.

today i dragged myself up to go see "tokyo notes" at 2pm. IT BLEW. it was a very japanese play written by some famous playwright over there, and fairfield was the first place it was premiering in english, so the guy has actually been here for a week talking to people. yeah, this is NOT a play that works well in our culture. it's too subdued, there's so many awkward spaces where NO ONE TALKS for minutes at a time, and what dialogue there was seemed stupid and pointless. there was no plot to speak of, which is apparently a characteristic of modern japanese theater, who knew? the whole audience looked bored, i wanted to shoot myself in the head, this poor little boy (siblings' weekend, whoot) looked about to cry, and it was basically two hours of my life that i want returned. no reflection on my roommate, who was the assistant stage manager and has been working her ass off on this play, but i just could not get into it at all.

now i feel rather ill, i've taken advil, midol and tums in quick succession with no relief. bleh.

IT IS THE WEEKEND FINALLY AND AT LAST. now i just have a paper, a test, a party and a play standing between me and complete freedom. joy.

Today was one of the most stressful days I've had in a long time, and things are going to remain pretty stressful till next tuesday. i'm fixing my sights on tuesday night, when i'll really be able to relax. More deep thoughts in the shower tonight but I'm too tired to blog them. Tomorrow night I'm going to my first off-floor party-- *gasp*. with wendy, of course; it's her friend's birthday, and she's bringing pete so i won't be the only one who won't really know who everyone is. at lunch today with some people from sub-free i dont usually eat with we had an interesting discussion about drinking; as it turns out, nearly everyone on sub-free is ok with casual, social drinking as long as it's not excessive. there's only a very very very few people who condemn drinking in any form. like one, that i know of, anyway. it was just interesting to get a different perspective, because these people were ones that i'll admit i would have thought would look down on any kind of drinking, yet here they were freely telling stories about choking on their first jello shot and the like. i like my floor.

i realized that if i only had some hard liquor in my room, this would be one of those nights i would just turn on a movie and unwind by getting quietly drunk, all by myself.

You are Form 9, Vampire: The Undying. "And The Vampire was all that remained on the blood drowned creation. She attempted to regrow life from the dead. But as she was about to give the breath of life, she was consumed in the flame of The Phoenix and the cycle began again." Some examples of the Vampire Form are Hades (Greek) and Isis (Egyptian). The Vampire is associated with the concept of death, the number 9, and the element of fire. Her sign is the eclipsed moon. As a member of Form 9, you are a very realistic individual. You may be a little idealistic, but you are very grounded and down to earth. You realize that not everything lasts, but you savor every minute of the good times. While you may sometimes find yourself lonely, you have strong ties with people that will never be broken. Vampires are the best friends to have because they are sensible.

You are Cleopatra of the Nile. The great
biographer of the time, Plutarch, wrote of
Cleopatra, 'Her actual beauty, it is said, was
not in itself so remarkable that none could be
compared with her, or that no one could see her
without being struck by it, but the contact of
her presence, if you lived with her, was
irresistible . . . It was a pleasure merely to
hear the sound of her voice, with which, like
an instrument of many strings, she could pass
from one language to another . . .' You have a
spark in you that draws other people to you.
Indeed, you are drawn to others because you are
always curious. People can talk to you; and
you have a passion in life to know, live, love,
and learn.


What famous female ruler are you? (written for the girls)
brought to you by Quizilla

Athena


?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??
brought to you by Quizilla

one of the scariest things that can happen to a writer is to discover that they have lost, or almost lost, what could have been a really good poem. i found out today that a poem i'd almost forgot i'd written for my creative project was entirely absent from any of my poetry files. i must have deleted it or not saved it, but it's just not there. it's a pretty good poem, though. i wrote it about a picture i took in albuquerque; it seemed to be just a street at night, and i couldn't remember why i took it then, and then i did, so i wrote the poem. it has potential. i'm reminded of a quote "a poem is never finished, only abandoned." i agree. i'm always making tiny revisions to poems when i look over them weeks, months, years later, a comma here, taking out a period there. nothing major. walt whitman went through nine editions of "leaves of grass" before he was satisfied. or maybe he just died; maybe he would have kept on revising and revising in perpetuity. i'm reminded of a line from wallace stevens "a fantastic effort has failed, a repetition in a repetitiousness of men and flies..." poetry is always coming to my mind at the oddest moments, and it often makes me sad that i can't share it with others around me, either because i could not give a suitable translation from my recollection to words or because i sense they simply wouldn't care.

i took a brief walk up to bellarmine hill hoping to tire myself out, hoping to get certain things off my mind for just a little while. didn't work. it was pretty, and would have been prettier if i'd spent more time looking up and less time watching for goose crap and sidewalk cracks.

i cleaned the room today. again, partially a result of wanting to clear my mind. cleaning does that, it switches my train of thought from other people's ridiculous dramas to where this piece of paper goes, and whether i got all the dust off the microwave. it's only a temporary solution, of course. now i'll probably lie in bed for a while and think about things. here's a list of what usually runs through my mind:

1. my friends back home and their various troubles
2. my friends here
3. my mom
4. certain things i obsess over
5. earning more money
6. getting all my work done
7. my current state of happiness
8. my future, or sense of direction/lack thereof
9. stupid people whose presence annoy me
10. things i need to do, letters to send, gifts to buy, things to remember
11. my wishes, both obvious and secret
12. my dad, because we knew he'd be in here somewhere, he's always here.

maybe THIS is why i take so long to go to sleep, eh?

Heart of Gold


What is Your Heart REALLY Made of?
brought to you by Quizilla

today was a busy day. i realized just how much work i have coming up, so i took it upon myself to write my entire critical essay for spanish class--four pages of pure espanol! it is an unprecendented achievement for me, i must say, and not one i care to repeat. i got my semester project back from Dr. Bridgford (A plus!) with a comment sheet that i am so definitely saving just in case i'm ever famous. i have decided to write my midterm paper for english on the poet adrienne rich. the poem below is "aunt jennifer's tigers"

Aunt Jennifer's tigers prance across a screen,
Bright topaz denizens of a world of green.
They do not fear the men beneath the tree;
They pace in sleek chivalric certainty.

Aunt Jennifer's fingers fluttering through her wool
Find even the ivory needle hard to pull.
The massive weight of Uncle's wedding band
Sits heavily upon Aunt Jennifer's hand.

When Aunt is dead, her terrified hands will lie
Still ringed with ordeals she was mastered by.
The tigers in the panel that she made
Will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.

-- Adrienne Rich

I also listened to a bunch of the cds i borrowed from pete. i did not like the pixies, but i liked mogwai, which was very mellow listening with few vocals; elliot smith, which had interesting lyrics; and velvet underground, which had good sounds and good lyrics.

i also got to talk to sara on the phone tonight. it was so good to hear her voice; for all its convenience, AIM will never completely replace the telephone. in less than two weeks she comes to fairfield!!!

also, attn rae: update thy blog, woman! even if it's just two sentences or a jumble of words. or sounds. grunts, even. how about musical notes? i'll even take your erotic poetry at this point *wails* i'm exaggerating the seriousness of this, i know. i know you're crazy-busy because you are RAE, goddess of i-can-do-a-million-thing-at-once-chem-AND-multivariable-calc-so-ha! funny how you used to be queen of the faeries and now you're queen of the crammed schedule :-) but you're still the pint-sized queen of my heart! *ducks to avoid rae's flying shoe*

in further developments, i would like to say to the world, especially the male world, that heather flanagan deserves better than most of you.

tonight was fun; i spent more time with wendy than i think i have since first semester! we never really see each other anymore since she has so many committments to theater and improv, so it was really cool to rediscover how funny and cute my roommate really is. i was finally initiated into the little club of people down the hall who wendy hangs out with almost every weekend. i knew all these people by sight and reputation but i'd never hung out with them before. it was interesting, i was naturally a little uncomfortable at first sitting in jared and pete's room with all these people i hardly knew, so i amused myself by going through pete's three huge binders of cds. he has like every fucking band ever. it was so cool. he said i could burn anything i wanted and therefore rose several notches in my esteem. he also had the movie version of "the world according to garp" which i had to borrow since i literally just finished reading the book a few days ago!

tonight was also michelle's first time doing shots. before anyone gets worried, no drunkenness was involved, and in fact i felt less of an effect than i did on new years eve, though that may have been because of that night's reveling atmosphere. i had three shots in the space of about an hour, and the only effect i felt was being a little more talkative. this is probably due to the fact that i had one of SoCo and two of 80-proof baccardi; not that heavy-duty. to my huge surprise, the SoCo was eminently tolerable, even more so than the baccardi. there was also a lot of chasing with powerade involved to remove the aftertaste (and to rehydrate and restore electrolytes, naturally). after having all three i dropped by meredith's room, and digiov later confirmed that she couldn't sense any difference, so i guess i know i can at least have that much with no real ill effects. i was rather nervous before i did the first one, since i didn't want to choke or something and embarass myself utterly, but it was fine. the baccardi had a taste kick after you swallowed, though.

so boundaries have tonight been broken; i'm proud of myself. i'd been wanting to try a shot for a little while now, to see what it's like. i'm glad i chilled with wendy's compadres down the hall because i know i will understand more when she relates her little tales after she wanders in at five am and then HUMS DRUNKENLY in her sleep heehee. no, i love you wendy, you know this. yes but it's time to go to bed a little voice tells me. yawwwwwn.

so today in art history we discussed titian and his painting "venus of urbino". you can see if here. it's really beautiful, and also very suggestive. obviously she's not a classical venus; it's a prostitute who posed for one of titian's many nudes that he tried to make respectable by passing off as goddesses. the duke of urbino, who commissioned this one, kept it under the cover of a heavy curtain whenever women were present; only when it was only men in the company did he allow it to be shown. jesus said that some art critics believe it amounts to renaissance porn lol. he also noted that what she's doing with her left hand *cough cough* is open to interpretation. i had actually thought that before he said it, but i figured titian wouldn't have painted a woman masturbating, it would have been a bit unorthodox, but apparently that is one interpretation of it! of course she could also be modestly covering herself, but look at her face--does she look like she's ashamed? this painting is so awesome :-)

tonight we had the dean's list dinner, which was SUCH an improvement over the honors' breakfasts of yore! i never really counted it as an honor to have to arrive at school extra early, eat bad breakfast food and listen to an annoying speaker, PLUS miss my first period free. we had speakers who are up for fulbright scholarships--I WANT ONE OF THOSE. they give you money to go do research or intern abroad for a year. guess where michelle wants to go, children? god if i could get an internship at an art museum in spain i'd be in fucking heaven.

we just had a floor meeting to discuss the admissions process, as our RA is interning up at Bellarmine. it was really good, and felt nice to have a sort of round-table discussion with the girls on my floor, most of whom i don't talk to a lot of the time, and hear their perspectives on things. we have a new girl, emily, who moved in with carla today. she transferred from NC State this semester and until today was living in jogues with a very promiscuous roommate. she's very cute-- she has RINGLETS---and she seems really nice, so i'm excited!

my new book "the well of lost plots" arrived today!! in the interest of turning more people on to this marvelous series, here is the book jacket description of "the eyre affair", the first novel starring Ms. Thursday Next:

In Jasper Fforde's Great Britain, circa 1985, time travel is routine, cloning is a reality (dodos are the resurrected pet of choice), and literature is taken very, very seriously. England is a virtual police state where an aunt can get lost (literally) in a Wordsworth poem and forging Byronic verse is a punishable offense. All this is business as usual for Thursday Next, renowned Special Operative in literary detection. But when someone begins kidnapping characters from works of literature and plucks Jane Eyre from the pages of Brontë's novel, Thursday is faced with the challenge of her career. Fforde's ingenious fantasy-enhanced by a Web site that re-creates the world of the novel--unites intrigue with English literature in a delightfully witty mix.

and here is an editorial review off amazon:
When I first heard the premise of this unique mystery, I doubted that a first-time author could pull off a complicated caper involving so many assumptions, not the least of which is a complete suspension of disbelief. Jasper Fforde is not only up to the task, he exceeds all expectations.
Imagine this. Great Britain in 1985 is close to being a police state. The Crimean War has dragged on for more than 130 years and Wales is self-governing. The only recognizable thing about this England is her citizens' enduring love of literature. And the Third Most Wanted criminal, Acheron Hades, is stealing characters from England's cherished literary heritage and holding them for ransom.

Bibliophiles will be enchanted, but not surprised, to learn that stealing a character from a book only changes that one book, but Hades has escalated his thievery. He has begun attacking the original manuscripts, thus changing all copies in print and enraging the reading public. That's why Special Operations Network has a Literary Division, and it is why one of its operatives, Thursday Next, is on the case.

Thursday is utterly delightful. She is vulnerable, smart, and, above all, literate. She has been trying to trace Hades ever since he stole Mr. Quaverley from the original manuscript of Martin Chuzzlewit and killed him. You will only remember Mr. Quaverley if you read Martin Chuzzlewit prior to 1985. But now Hades has set his sights on one of the plums of literature, Jane Eyre, and he must be stopped.

How Thursday achieves this and manages to preserve one of the great books of the Western canon makes for delightfully hilarious reading. You do not have to be an English major to be pulled into this story. You'll be rooting for Thursday, Jane, Mr. Rochester--and a familiar ending. --Otto Penzler --

the books are great, but it's true what they say--complete suspend your incredulity and believe anything is possible. in this series, books are ALIVE. (which i love, naturally, since i love books!) anyway i hope i've encouraged someone to try these books. even if you haven't completely read up on english literature (i'd never read jane eyre or even HEARD of martin chuzzlewit) there are so many little treats thrown in. shakespeare lovers especially will adore this kind of world!

i have read about people msising mr. avery in other people's journals to the point that i'm starting to miss the little oddball myself. his hair that defied all reason and gravity most of all.

from flanny's journal:

"p.s. is it weird that i'm a little upset that mr. avery [my old choir teacher] has a good relationship with his girlfriend and just want him to love me instead, and told my mom that hey, he's 24, some of the guys that ask me out are that age, why can't a relationship in which we never physically touch but are constant companions work out?"

i'm starting to think that i love jesus (read: teacher, not son of god) like heather loves mr. avery--in a completely non-sexual way, while still thinking he's the coolest guy ever, and wouldn't i like a husband like that except one who likes girls? so i could still marry jesus and just never touch him ever, and heather could marry "aves" and never touch him either, and we could go out on the town adulterating together while our fabulous gay husbands (ok MY fabulously gay husband and then--mr. avery) go cavorting with other men! we could have a double gay wedding!!!

before any of you start giving me weird looks, i AM just joking (hastily hides bridal magazines) ah, me. i may have been deprived of having any gay friends, but a cool gay teacher will do nicely.

This Poem Is Not AutoBioGraphical


--for three reasons;
firstly, this is not me
writing these words,
not really.
This is my mask;
this is the face I put on
when I want to play
make-believe
and can’t reach
the costumes in the attic.
What you see of me
is all rubber and paint,
glitter and feathers.
I have made my mask
from parts of me
and parts of you,
and filled in the gaps
with little bits
of I-know-not-who.

Secondly, this is not my life
that I am writing about,
although if you want
to know all
the sordid details,
I will surely tell.
I wear a mask;
where’s the risk?
I can tell you,
for instance,
that at the age of six
I stole a piece of gum
from a gas station,
stuck it in the pocket
of my jean jumper
and went home
proudly with my prize.
My mother slapped me
and made me go back
to say I was sorry—
but I wasn’t.



Thirdly, would you believe
that I am not writing this
at all? Nor do I intend
to be graphic
in the more common
sense of the word,
though if you want to hear
about my first time
I’ll tell you—
it was in the bathroom of
a fast-food restaurant
which probably had not
been cleaned in a week.
I still had my baby-fat.
He whispered “beautiful”
as he undid the button
on my jeans, and
I braced myself against
a slightly sticky wall
covered with phone numbers.
It was wet and hard
and over with quickly.
I barely felt the pain,
never felt the pleasure,
and I never saw him again.

It seems shocking—
but please remember that
this poem has not been
AutoBioGraphical.
I warned you of that
at the beginning.
If you believe what
my mask has told you,
you are the only one
to blame.

of course i'm writing poetry when i should be studying for spanish. of course.

i lied and told myself that i was leaving work early to study for my spanish exam. instead i'm eating my mom's banana bread and listening to the sounds outside my window. geese honking, brakes squealing, and above it all the wind howling past. some times i hate it when the wind rushes through the hallway and sucks through all the doors, but today i like it. it makes me feel literary, as though i am walking through a poem that is full of adjectives and goose feathers and the far-off shouts of children. i feel happiest at moments like this.

My spring vacation plans are nearly set! If all goes well, Sara will come down the thursday before hand so she can finally see FU and we can celebrate her birthday on thurs/friday/fri (cmon, why not make it like a puerto rican wedding and go for three days?). if all goes really really well, heather's friday lab will disappear and she will be able to come down too. friday my mom will ferry us back to windsor, saturday will be spent in revelry with my two ladies, and sunday will commence the Cape Cod Adventure. again if all goes well st. patty's day will be celebrated on tuesday, not wednesday, so everyone will be all ready to drive on thursday morning. i will then drive from dennisport on the cape to wellesley, there to visit rae, and return to windsor on friday (i am going to need a lot of clothes for this. and gas, lots of gas.) friday and saturday nights i will most likely chill with my mom since she's a little (read: very little)saddened that i won't be around very much during my break, and do all the laundry. sunday i will return triumphantly to FU, thus finishing a hectic but i hope enjoyable week!

my art class went to the met today (why am i always in new york on grey, overcast days?). unlike last time, when i wandered around alone all day, this girl i kind of know decided to hang out with me. she'd never been there before, so we had to go to every single "important" thing. i felt like a tour guide. i hadn't intended to look at the egyptian wing again for a while--the temple of dendur is the same as i left it--or the greco-roman stuff, and i'd never intended to go into the american wing or the modern art gallery, but alas, this girl likes american impressionists and jackson pollock. whoot. i finally got a little time to myself and had a delightful time of it in the european galleries. i bought postcards of the same el greco i have postered on my wall at home, my little veiled/masked dancer, and van gogh's irises. i found myself vastly appreciating van gogh this time around; usually i just go look at "cypresses" and wander away, but this time, in response to jen's query of "what's so special about van gogh?" i found myself defending him. i pointed out the thickness of the paint, the seemingly wild brushstrokes that make a wonderfully suggestive image, the vivid colors, but she was more impressed by monet and his water lilies. now monet's flowers--or anyone else's besides van gogh's-- will probably never strike my fancy. i prefer his paintings of london, or renoir's women, to flowers, but van gogh gave his flowers some "oomph", some quality that really catches me.

jesus previously had me convinced i should go to florence junior year and not spain with all his talk of famous work to be seen there. but today he told me he personally believes that spain and especially madrid is more interesting, more cultured, more historic. he got his PhD in spanish art and architecture, so i figure he knows what he's talking about (plus it's jesus, a handsome, well-dressed gay man named after god! come on!). so now i'm back to wanting to go to madrid, meaning more spanish classes. ah, indecision.

i guess the classification below is sort of true, but not really. i do care, to some extent. it actually crossed my mind today, rather guiltily, that for someone who does in fact profess to believe in some kind of god, i spend little to no time a.) conversing with said deity and b.) thanking him/her/it, which i might naturally be exptected to do, having been granted health and happiness and all that jazz. i guess it has to do with the fact that my thoughts on god are rather nebulous. i've never really pinned down quite what i believe--just there's a god, it's a good god, and he wants people to be happy and do as much good as possible. beyond that it becomes really difficult. how do i feel about sex before marriage? do i even believe that god himself created marriage? obviously im planning on having sex before i get married, so am i going to consider that a sin or not? and since im not catholic what do i do with sins, is just apologizing in my mind enough? ever since i was little i didn't like to get down on my knees and pray. i would just lie in bed and clasp my hands and talk to god in my mind. then when i got older i started questioning why i had to talk at all--couldn't god just anticipate my every word? then i got confused and stopped talking. now sometimes when i talk i feel the need to cross myself first, not because i believe in the trinity but because i need like i have to differentiate this moment, this conversation with god, from the rest of my lying-in-bed-ness.

my mom told me she was an atheist for a while growing up. i can see how that would be true; it seems sometimes that either you go to one extreme or the other in terms of religion if you've had a hard life. and sometimes you just don't care. i never bothered hating god for what happened to me circa four years ago. i mean, since i've basically established that it was generally for the best despite all the pain involved, doesn't that suggest that god was not being cruel, but merely omniscient? or did he just pull my dad's number and it was simply luck that things turned out fairly well? this is why i can't formulate a concise theory on god. I JUST DON'T KNOW.

I am Nothing!



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lauren just sent out an email telling us a list of things we should bring to the cape for spring break. included in this was a bathing suit, at which i had a hearty laugh because it's march and there is no power in heaven or hell that's getting me into the atlantic in march!! also it's finally hitting home that this is going to be ELEVEN people and ONE bathroom. awesome, man. showering had best be carefully divided or there will be many screams of rage at the cold water.

besides that, and besides the fusco thing, this should be a lot of fun--nothing like having a 22-yrold gay man along to provide the liquor. on saint patty's day, i will be honoring the history of the hennessey family by drinking as much as possible without actually getting drunk. which probably isn't a whole lot, but i'm only a quarter irish, anyway!

it is late, and i am tired, but i am also wired and that rhymed. last night was better than i expected, i spent it on a futon instead of the floor. for anyone who wasn't informed--rae my sincerest apologies for neglecting to inform you of my proximity to wellesley--i spent yesterday and today at an APDA tournament at BU. and what is APDA, children? as we've learned, it's the american parliamentary debate association, of course! it is a large, large amalgamation of kids from a shitload of colleges---from the ivys down to the losers like simon's rock who can just go suck it cause their cases BLOW the big one--many of whom have NO LIVES and spend EVERY WEEKEND at similar tournaments, many of whom only go for the inevitable partying, drinking and groping that large groups of the socially awkward do when they convene in a particular place, and many of whom also go in order to belittle others, both subtly and not-so-subtly (i'm looking at YOU, brown!l! go back to rhode island and TAKE TRELLA WITH YOU) and therefore gain some sort of reassurance about their penis sizes. yes, i say penis sizes because APDA is a largely male thing; in fact we are probaby the only team that has more girls than guys (this time 6 girls 2 guys) and the only coed school who runs girl/girl teams (we're not afraid of the men, oh no, we're from FU and proud of it!). the Duke team we debated actually asked me if FU was all girls because it seems we have no men. oh well.

now don't get me wrong--i had a lot of fun these past two days, it's just really easy to make fun of APDA lol. our team considers ourselves different--we are NOT debater dorks-- because we have real lives and real friends and we don't LIVE for the moment when our pairings come on screen and we find out whether--gasp!--we're against "Cornell Bad Novii" or "Stanford Her Pleasure". this was my first time actually debating, last time i judged, which is boring but absolutely no pressure. my first round i PMd (prime ministered) meaning i gave the opening speech, and of course i was fucking nervous, and our lovely opponent team, a hybrid from Princeton and Columbia, had the kindness to BLATANTLY LAUGH AT ME. yes that really increases the confidence! naturally we lost in a horrific manner, but at least the other team said they really couldn't tell it was my very first time. novice, yes, newborn, no. whoot.

anyway so how this works is you run five rounds of debate, three on the first day and two the second. everything is disorganized and runs behind and you spend a lot of time sitting in auditorium watching will newman, the hot kid from brown who's a total asshole, try to make the world see how amazing will newman really is, and being offered shots of jim beam and vodka by the tournament leaders. yes, shots were offered, but alas, though my partner jamie had the jim beam they never got to us with the vodka. i wanted some for the nerves. jamie figures we went 3-2, meaning we won more than we lost, which is nice, and i did pretty well once i got into it, though my note-taking sucked royally. must practice that.

so the REAL action that all the little debater dorks are waiting for is after the third round when the partying happens. in this case, BU gave out tickets to a club they'd rented out near fenway, so we go, despite the fact that only our little captains eileen and jamie and their friend mary ellen dance. eileen also happens to be the blessed age of TWENTY ONE, so she procured drinks for the seven of us who were underage, sadly only one apiece since it kinda looks suspicious to ask for drink after drink. sean had a horrible whiskey concoction and we had bacardi and sprite on the rocks, on SO MANY ROCKS YOU COULD HAVE BUILT A MOUNTAIN. i paid five dollars for an ICEBERG IN A CUP with a dash of sprite and liquor. naturally this did nothing, but it tasted good. after an hour of this torment, and observing the couple getting it on in the sex room separated from us by a wall--we saw feet in the air--we went to our housing, which was a really super nice suite, three big rooms, bathroom and walkin closet! and we slept, and awoke and debated some more, and then we drove home with jamie at the wheel, with eight people in a seven person minivan, going EIGHTY-FIVE MILES PER HOUR in the rain. yes, there was fear for my life. but i'm good now, i'm back in normality, out of the city, back in what jamie's friend calls "the land of the beautiful people". i may not even like half the guys who go here but after this weekend they are looking fiiiiiiiiiine.

am i wired or WHAT? i feel an insatiable desire to use CAPITAL LETTERS WHERE THEY ARE NOT APPROPRIATE. LIKE HERE.

oh and amusing, attractive evan who's on our team happens to be good friends with wendy's best guy friend from back home, tommy! small world, eh? even smaller world--dahts debated the dreaded trella, sean's molester friend whom he calls "trella the fella", and SHE KICKED HIS ASS. TAKE THAT, BROWN!!! FU RULES!!

oh and both pc and wellesley got dissed in the "APDA family feud" game they ran, both were on the list of top five most corrupt ineptly run tournaments. lol.

methinks it is time for bed. people keep saying i'm not going to be up before dinner, but i say no, i WILL be up before 4pm!!! *southern preacher voice* I HAVE THE POW-AH!!!!!

I have eight minutes till lauren's laundry is done and we can leave for lunch. fucking windy today, jesus! it's like a hurricane out there! art history lecture on the sistene chapel will be given by guest lecturer philip *sigh* now he'll know that i'm in an art history class but just not his...i hope he doesn't talk to me.

as soon as i have the time, i'm going to the registrar to get the form for declaring a second major. english and art history, whoohoo! yeah, i'm going to be poor, but i love them both, so what can i do?

what the hell? since when did the world go mad? since when did everyone and their mother become convinced that education is worthless, that it's acceptable to slack off and only do what's necessary to get by? since when did people start to believe that college degrees are worthless? (and on a related note, when did cheating become so acceptable to the general populace?)

i will NOT accept that my arguments are "moot". i believe in education, i believe that it opens your mind and helps you improve your understanding of the world. i acknowledge that some people manage to be self-taught, but the majority of the populace requires education. it's not brain-washing, it's learning, and a great majority of people who feel that they know all they need to know andthey can teach themselves everything and are completely self-sufficient are egotists and idiots. i'm sorry if some people's parents didn't raise them to believe that you strive to do your best, no matter what, or that the education they got was crappy. that doesn't mean that Education is useless. i would not trade this experience for anything, and i can't understand people who just see college as a means to an end, to that 'useless" piece of paper that will get you a job.

tonight a disturbing parallel was drawn between greg and charles. they have virtually the same opinions on the value of education, though apparently charles more successfully slacked his way into uconn. this is the first thing i've ever really disagreed with him on. i think this is one of those Things that i want in a partner, i want someone who believes in education. i never want another relationship with someone who likes to do just enough to get by, never bothers to exert themselves to do their best, and thinks that this is all worthless. that's such shit. lazy bastards. (my other main Thing is no atheists--they depress me.)

and now i'm angry. this is all sean's fault for being a cheater and getting me on this topic in my head. grrrrrrrrrr.

four guys, five months. hm.

compared to popham, i'm such a slut, you know that? it amazes me that i'm the slut here, coming from the girls back home, where i was relatively pure since i was still on the V-team, as we call it. meredith classified us as the four sex and the city girls, and i'm the sluttiest one with a hot boyfriend and cancer and no hair. yay.

sometimes the feeling of sluttiness makes me weird. in the beginning of the year i was all for hiding certain things, like the fact that i've made out with girls and a lot of guys, and how far i've gone with a guy, for fear of being labeled the one with no morals. i know that it's not that i have low morals or my friends here have high ones (well, popham). we just came from different situations. we're all different people. i know i should never feel ashamed of anything based on what someone else might think. not that this means i'll be divulging my sexual history to anyone who asks, but i refuse to feel bad about anything i've done unless i have a reason to. for instance, one of my friends told me that she regrets her new year's activity completely. the only thing i regret is kissing that sketchy guy matt; i only did because i felt sorry for him, he was being completely left out. it was gross. so much for being friendly.

i think my views on kissing random people also have to do with me not enjoying kissing in general. i don't mind it either way, really, girls or guys, and that sort of prevents me from attaching a huge significance to it. not that i'd kiss a complete stranger or someone who was hugely unattractive or creepy, but i also don't reserve kissing for someone i have a huge crush on. this is just me, in all my weirdness. deal.

i also used to feel a bit bad being the one who's always eyeing a guy or talking about a guy. then again, i have the most boy-crazy roommate of all time. i get mistaken for being, as lauren put it, a "horndog" because i like looking at cute guys and i don't hide it (ie me loudly expressing my desire for john from down the hall to go to the bathroom in his boxers again). guess what--for the past year or so my desires have run to exactly that--looking! i don't have a huge sex drive anymore, in fact barely one at all. it's like i'm more interested in the chase than the capture; i like admiring guys, i like the little heart-flutters you get when you talk to them and are wondering about where it will all go. i love that. i'm honestly not sexually driven, no matter what i might say about wanting to jump some guy or other. it's kind of theoretical, i guess. i can't even say i like to flirt because i have NEVER known how to flirt. god knows i must have flirted at some point, i've had four boyfriends now, but i have never once done it consciously or even realized i was doing it. michelle the sex goddess is a figment of someone's imagination, and it ain't mine.

THIS IS WHY MICHELLE DOESN'T WANT BOYFRIENDS. WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO IT, SHE REALLY DOESN'T WANT THEM FOR THE PURPOSE MOST PEOPLE WOULD WANT THEM FOR!!

that was actually unintentional capitalization, but i'm going to keep it, for emphasis.

i am quite the oddball.

in the wise words of rae, "ahh fuckity fuck-fuck mcfucking fuckers".

i've said it once and i'll say it again: life is SO FUCKING COMPLICATED. no doubt much of this complexity is of my own making, but then there are the things you cannot control or ordain, like your emotions, which will go where they please no matter what it's going to cost you or force you to do.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Sometimes it seems my writing here goes in spurts--I'll write a huge amount in a day or two and then neglect to write for a few days. Anyway, Valentine's day was different than i'd expected. the hotel did not come through since they checked my ID. add to that that i was in a not so good mood, complete with headache and PMSy feelings, and it ended up that after a movie and dinner charles went home rather than spend the night here. but he liked my gifts, and i thoroughly enjoy Pounce, the beanie baby cat he gave me.

Pride and Prejudice--bought, read, and liked the book, then watched and orgasmically fell in love with the movie starring colin firth. immediately watched bridget jones' diary following to obtain more colin, and have since switched buddy icon and background to this sexy sexy man. i'm trying to read emma but it's not as good.

i noted tonight to my friends that my art history teacher, jesus, seems to exert a powerful influence on me. we spent the last class on leonardo da vinci, and after staring at a six foot projection of the Mona Lisa for a good half hour, and listening to him talk about her mystery, i began to appreciate her. i didn't like her when i saw her in the louvre--after so much hype it seemed so blah. but i also confess that i spent less than five minutes observing the painting from the back of a crowded room. i never got close enough to really take in her expression, and i would have needed an extra 30 minutes that i did not that day have to start to see some of the more subtle nuances of her face. indeed there are many things i might not have independently noticed; however, when our prof projected an image of botticelli's "birth of venus" next to the mona lisa for a comparison of technique, it was shocking--the mona lisa leapt out at you as reality, while botticelli's goddess was reduced to an almost cartoonish aspect. jesus pointed out her hands as one of the best examples of how da vinci made her flesh look truly real with his shading.

even after staring at her for a long time i could not decide what emotion it is on her face. our textbook noted that her faint smile does not reach her eyes, and this is true, for her eyes seem to be without warmth. at one moment i thought her eyes to hold some hidden pain, hinted at by her slight black veil, and that she attempts to smile only for our sakes. then i thought her smile to be a smirk, and her eyes full of condescension, for reasons i could not guess. then i thought her eyes to be very knowing, posibly even jaded, in the manner they follow the viewer around the room, and then again i wondered if she were not simply tired, and her smile had simply faded after sitting so long. i have gazed and wondered with the rest of the world, and like the rest i have come to no answer.

perhaps the mystery that fascinates me most is that leonardo did not give this painting to the woman who sat for it; rather, he kept it with him his entire life, and when he died in france it was among his possessions. was it vanity of his own art that enticed him so, or did the painting hold a more sentimental value? i wish i could know!

here is another work i admireMichelangelo's Pieta. I always thought that meant piety, but in fact it is pity, which makes more sense. there is something so incredibly moving in the face of mary, as she cradles the body of her dead son, that goes beyond the religious significance for me. whether i believe in christ's divinity or not, the fact remains that a man named jesus or joshua or yeshua or whatever existed, was put to death by the romans, and his mother had to confront the loss of her beloved child. the pathos of the moment is overwhelming, and is only accentuated by the amazing attention to detail in the human form. jesus told us the sculpture is today in a glass cage on a tall pedestal, but that michelangelo created it to be placed on the floor, that a viewer would look down on christ's body and share in mary's grief. i know that if i saw this work in person it would truly inspire in me a sense of mourning.

and finally, since i'm on an artwork kick here, this is the piece i named as my favorite of last semester, "Veiled and Masked Dancer". She is small, but so elegant, so graceful and sensual. if it's possibly to fall in love with a piece of bronze, i fell in love with her.

and now to bed!

I read Sense and Sensibility tonight. After having such a dislike of Austen because of my hatred of Pride and Prejudice, I was half-expecting to not like this either (I saw the movie on tv a week ago and absolutely loved it), but it was such an easier read than p & p! i loved it too! it even helped to already have images of the film in my mind, and i'm often against seeing a movie before i read the book because i will preconcieve the characters, but i suppose in period dramas it helps to really imagine the scenery, the accents, the little physical traits. it was cool.

also on the austen side of things, i'm seeing things in the relationships around me that make me want to play cupid like emma, except i know i can't for many reasons, not the least of which that i would suck at any matchmaking attempts. sadly people must work things out for themselves, or not.

pablo was in vanity fair! along with a very sexy pic of orlando!

April 15th, tax day, it will have been four years. how is that even possible, that such changes have been wrought in me and in the world in just four years? In april of 2000 bill clinton was still president, the world trade towers still stood, i knew nothing about either of my parents, and i was nothing like i am now. i lied to myself about a lot of things back then; i wanted things i thought i was supposed to want. i remember wanting to be different, even then, but i didn't know how.

most of all i remember the three closest friends i had, the ones who were there for me at the wake and the funeral and all the years following. sara, rae, and heather. yes, i love you all.

Your Heart is Red


What Color is Your Heart?
brought to you by Quizilla

i must admit i wasn't sure what they were asking in one of the questions in this survey, how many people have you loved. if they said how many people have you romantically loved, i'd know the answer, but if it's people in general, then that's a lot. there's been a lot of discussion both among friends here and friends home about love. what is it, how you know when you love someone, friend or otherwise. etc. i'm too tired to think about it now, really. i just remember that when i was a freshman, the only person i ever said "i love you" to was my father, and then only in a rushed way, when i called him every afternoon to see if he'd be home in time for dinner-- "ok love ya bye". fourteen year olds don't really go in for expressing love for others, i guess. still, even though losing him made me realize how much i needed my mom and my friends, it's been a recent development that i tell my friends i love them when i hang up or sign offline, probably in the last year or so. we've grown closer even despite our separation. i like that.

my mom's a different matter. a few years ago i had those series of horrible dreams where my father was there, and it was like he had never gone away but he kept saying over and over what a bad father he'd been, and the dreams kept ending before i was able to tell him that it wasn't true. however much i would have liked to believe that this was some sort of sign from hi,, i know it was just my subconscious working things out. i eventually decided that what was being conveyed to me was that i shouldn't make the same mistakes with my mom that i did with my dad, that i should never let her think that i don't love her or that she's not a good mother. i have immense respect for my mom. she came from what anyone would consider an awful childhood--she got abused, her mom didn't really care for her, her dad died when she was little, she was anorexic, etc, yet she grew up and took the profession of caring for other people, when she had been cared for so little herself. she was the one who looked out for her mom when she was dying of cancer, even though to the end my nana considered my mom worthless, and her absent brothers to be the better children (i don't think very highly of this woman i have no memory of).

it always strikes me as hugely unfair that my mom had to lose her husband. it was more unfair to her than it was to me. does that sound like a weird thing to say? it's just like, i'm young, and i'll have plenty of time in my life for happiness and joy, but my mom is grown up, and had gone through so much pain in her life already, and then to lose her best friend, that's just awful. it hurts so much to think about that. i want my mom to be happy, i always do, and i know jen and i bring her happiness but i wish there was something more. she deserved better than what she was dealt. so this is why i have such tremendous respect for my mom. she didn't let herself be destroyed after my father's death. she kept on going, in her own quiet sort of way. she goes to work and takes care of women who are sick and dying, and then comes back to an empty house and her daughters' voices on the telephone. if i could wish for one thing, it would be for my mom to be truly happy somehow. usually my wishes are stupid things like i wish i were thinner or had more money or could get the guys i want, but i would give her anything, if i could.

i'm crying again. i think it's the PMS striking at last.

Back from NYU. Debate tournament enjoyable, judged a boring case about Libyan sanctions, an amusing one about legalizing marijuana brought by kids from Canada, and a psychotic one by these girls from this tiny MA school saying that Israel should sytematically murder the entire family of a suicide bomber, as deterrent. wtf! saw heather for "a new york minute" but i got to meet andrezej (he's hot, heather was so right) or however you write that and garret and susie, and i saw steven again. we stayed in a really cool room that had a tiny extra room with a window that was the "opium den/sex lounge" and there was lot of pot stems in it and a really cute bong. bathroom was super-sketchy. we saw the dreaded trella and even wound up in an elevator with him and his little brown cronies, but meredith stayed safely hidden. we went out to a mexican place in the village and eileen (21, whoohoo1) got a big margarita but it was very very salty. jamie had her roommate's flask with her with gin in it, which smells and tastes like pinesol, and then she just whips it out in the restaurant and dumps it into her coke! quite amusing. later on they got a bottle of captain morgan and some coke to take back to the room. i cannot abide rum and coke, mostly because as a loyal coke drinker i abhor anything that adulterates it. and rum on its own i could never do.

oh and yesterday they gave us a wicked nice banquet, with servers in tuxedos and everything! i felt oh-so-special. now i am sick and stuffed up. we walked from heather's school near 4th st to grand central which is like 43rd, because the fucking uptown subway was broken. grrrrr thank you new york city.

although new york is interesting and a lot of the architecture and shopping is enticing, i know already that i couldn't live there. a.) i hate people in large crowds, and this was confirmed by my annoyance at seeing people everywhere i went. b.) i like nature, i like having woods and wildlife around (aside from pigeons, rats and the occasional park tree). c.) i hate heights, and most of the places in new york require you to live several stories off the street. example: the room we were in was on the 17th floor: if i lived there i'd never go near the window. so new york, it seems, will remain for me a place that's nice to visit but not to live. i was happy to get back here to fairfield, to geese and turkeys and deer and lots of open sky. :-)