Imitations on Cleaning Philosophy

Since I had such a long, detailed, well-thought out post yesterday, I feel that I should even things out by talking about stupid stuff like my love for The Golden Girls or VH1 specials or old Dukes of Hazzard memories. Trouble is, I can't think of anything particularly slacker-y to talk about. Sorry.

But I can talk about my family, because they are coming to visit this weekend. My mom, my grandmom, my uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins have picked this weekend to come to my tiny little apartment and comiserate, which you know, makes perfect sense in that I am the only one in the family not to live in a boda fide free standing house and I have a kitchen that Fat Albert could barely turn around in. My mom will actually be here tonight. So I am cleaning feverishly, cursing my boyfriend for eating crumby foods, and fighting with a toilet that has a tendency to overflow at the most inopportune times. It is not fun. I don't really like to clean at all. I would much rather be reading or watching TV which is what I usually do at this time (City Confidential is on right now by the way), but instead, I am exerting my femininity and doing some power vaccuuming. This is sad.

And here's the really sad thing about it. No matter how smart you are, no matter how many books you write, no matter what, you still have to clean up after yourself. I know, I know, you could get a maid, but seriously, there are some little things that you just have to do. Me, I have this uncanny ability to plumb (or however you would say "to fix a toilet"). I can fix just about anything to do with a toilet. You may say, "She's lying." It's true. The other morning I awoke to the scared screams of my boyfriend who I found standing on top of the overflowing toilet grasping towels and preparinng for Heart Attack #1. So I came in and, with my trusty dusty plunger, took care of business. He was very happy, to say the least. But to return to my original argument, you can't escape things like that. This "real world" which I have come to discuss lately is a tricky bastard, and clings to you at every step. You may try to retreat into literature and thought and the Russian language even (not naming any names, of course), but it hangs onto you, always reminding you that its there, and that you are a part of it. Sadly, I have come to realize that this incessant cleaning, these tedious errands, this STUFF, is the very stuff of life. Isn't it wierd how tied to the world we humans are? You can't even forsake the thing if you wanted to. It's wierd.

Which brings me to something I wanted to write about yesterday but didn't get around to. Matt and I rented Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on Tuesday night, and let me tell you, everyone should see this. This was the most real, most perfect love story I have ever seen played out on film (plus the Pope quote in the title was pretty rockin' as I have just recently read Essay on Man). It was nothing short of amazing. It is the first film that I have ever seen to actually grasp the everyday beauty of a relationship, everything from eating at a favorite restaurant to eating Chinese take out in front of the TV, to laying in bed together. You should see it, if you haven't already. In fact, Matt and I are getting ready to buy it, so you could come watch it with us, as I'm sure we will be watching it again and again and then discussing. Priceless. You will love it.

On that note, I am going to retire and finish my cleaning. I still need to finish the laundry and fold it and all that stuff. Then there's the bathrooms. Ick. The humbling experience of scrubbing the toilets should not be missed, I guess.

Meanderings on Next Year and the Problems Therein

Because of my recent obsession with surveys and such, I feel that today I should give you a really heartfelt, philosophical, deep and rather disturbing bit of questioning meat to digest. I have just the thing to discuss: career day. Yes, ladies and gentleman, today is that wonderful day of the year when regular idealistic college kids trade in their hopes and dreams and learn that they too can work for an insurance agency (and in their black suits and tight pencil skirts, they look so cute, you wouldn't think that they were selling out!). Of course, yours truly did not take part in the festivities. Instead, I dawned the cloak of loser-dom (actually it was just my denim jacket) and hiked across campus to attend classes about books, classes that, of course, will never help me in the "real world." But I indeed saw the detritus of the career fair: a very uptight girl in my English class in a black pant suit and silver cross pendant who looked at me disdainfully when I said I wasn't going, two Jewish-looking guys in new black suits, comparing the new leather folders their parents just bought them for their resumes, a girl in an outfit that my fifth grade teacher would have thought was too old, talking on a cell phone about her "prospects." In short, I saw my fellow students playing a very elaborate game of dress up. It was depressing, but also very fitting. We, as a class, as a generation even, are supposed to make these decisions now. It's time. We are supposed to put on the business suits and the fake smiles and look "professional" because hark! The real world is calling.

And then, here I am. I am choosing to remain the impudent child who still refuses to believe that she can't fly. I am telling everyone I want to be a writer, hell, that I AM going to be a writer and thus have no need for afforementioned suit or smile or tightly pulled chignon. I, for the first time in my life, have no idea where I will be at this time next year, or what I'll be doing for that matter. I might be making coffee in New Jersey. I might be editing in Wisconsin. I might be in flipping Berkeley, CA, selling pizzas out of the back of a truck. And why are you going to these places, you ask? I am following my boyfriend there, like a good woman should. Me, the girl who has written every last term paper, every last response paper, every last whatever on feminism and women's sexuality is choosing to follow a man cross country, to be the vigilant woman while higher degrees are attained and such. Instead of making a decision on my own, I am going to follow him. It's not that I don't want to. I mean, I do. But it is scary. Very scary. Does this even make sense?

Which brings me to the subject of graduate school. Grad school, the very thing I should be thinking about right now as an answer to my quandry, is suddenly a bit less attractive. Why, you ask? Because grad school suddenly seems to be "in vogue." Everyone is doing it. Everyone is taking the GRE's, everyone is talking about "reach schools" and "safety schools". Case in point: I was talking about our Alexander Pope reading to one of my friends in a class, and this girl who I have never heard speak except for a few indiscernable grunts directly related to her stance on the rugby team starts talking about how Pope is important to know for grad school. My afforementioned friend (who I thought was in the School of Ed) starts talking about how she has to know him because he is on the GRE subject test. They continue to talk about these things as if they are compatriots in a foreign war, and I am some idiot who burned her draft card. Now mind you that these are not the most, shall I say it?, intelligent people in the world. These are not your future Rhodes scholars or anything. Further, I refuse to believe that these people even halfway care about the things they are studying. In short, they are not doing it because of an undying love for literary theory, rather, they suddenly recognize that grad school is the ideal thing to do if you are not ready to grow up. In fact, it is the antithesis to the world of career fairs and such, in that, it is still this liminal phase where you are kinda this and kinda that without having a whole foot in anything. Do you see where I'm going?

But the one thing that grad school and the career fair world have in common is that they are both a form of control in an otherwise chaotic and frightening world. If one knows that he or she is involved in either thing (grad school or career), they don't have to worry about the motives of their actions, or about how they are going to pay the rent or about any of the other things that currently divide and conquer my psyche. Right now, I am experiencing the full chaos that life has to offer as far as existential meanderings go. The thing is, I'm not unhappy. It is nice mulling these things around in my mind, and knowing that, at least for the time being, I am able to do that. Come next September, maybe not, but right now, it's cool.

So that's the thought I'll leave you with. I think we should all mull in our thoughts, and think about the complete and utter chaos of the world. The uncertainty. It's cool to think about, and hey, it keeps you from watching another show on VH1. Just think about that.

Just one more. I swear. Just one more.

Ok, I just finished my paper. I hope it is good. It seems good, but I guess you never know. Anyway, in celebration, I am going to complete this last survey I found on my Katie's page. These things are so fun. They make me feel all important, like you people want to actually know all these things about me. So enjoy, as this, I swear, is the last one.
And it's alphabetical, so that's cool.
A - Age: 21
B- Band listening to right now: I am not listening to music. I am watching/listening to In the Heat of the Night. J'adore Bubba.
C - Career in future: writer/philosopher of life
D - Dessert of choice: creme brulee, tiramisu or cheesecake. or ice cream. anything homemade.
E - Easiest person to talk to: Matt
F - Favorite song at the moment: that song by Franz Ferdinand that says "I say, don't you know, you say you don't know, I say take me on." I don't know the name. I mean, I guess I could go find the cd case and check, but it doesn't seem that important.
G - Gummy Bears or Gummy Worms: neither. I used to love the Amazing Fruit bears (you know, the ones that danced in the commercial?) but I got sick on them when I was in the sixth grade, and thus I can't stomach anything gummy.
H - Hometown: St. Paul, VA
I - Instruments: can play 3 songs on the piano, haven't held a clarinet in years
K - Kids: are cute, especially fat ones. I have a soft spot for fat little boys.
L - Longest car ride ever: Pittsburgh, PA to southwest Virginia. I don't think it takes that long in reality, but we got lost coming out of Pittsburgh and ended up on the wrong road, and then we stopped at Target in this really redneck southern PA town and Matt had on a shirt from a film festival that literally said "Arrogance and Envy: Anti-American Films." We were scared. Very scared. You don't mess with patriotic people who have nothing to live for, especially when you are a couple of wiry college kids.
M - Mom's name: Irana. It's from some movie about a Bulgarian woman or something.
N - Number of siblings: 0. I'm an only child. But I have two stepsisters, Brandi and Kris.
P - Phobia[s]: rats, George W. Bush, needles and other sharp objects
Q - Favorite Quotation: "Imagination is more important than knowledge."--Albert Einstein. There are a few more ironic ones that I like, but I can't think of them right now.
R - Reasons to smile: I just finished my paper and Matt cleaned the kitchen last night!
S - Song you sang last: Rebel Rebel
T - Time you wake up: 7:30 am
U - Unknown fact about me: I was voted "Most Unique" and "Best Dressed" by my high school class. We took our Most Unique yearbook picture on the roof of the high school. We snuck up there by breaking into the janitor's closet and climbing up a small ladder. I had on a skirt. The AV guys were happy.
V - Vegetable you hate: eggplant. Seriously. I hate it.
W - Worst habit: I never put the cap back on the toothpaste.
X - X-rays you've had: teeth, gall bladder, lungs, girl stuff
Y- Yummy food: I love all foods basically, as long as it is made from actual ingredients--nothing processed or made in a lab with stuff I can't pronounce. Tonight I am fixing beef stroganoff. Russian food is pretty good. Matt makes a Russian peasant dip that is served in a bread bowl that is amazing.
Z - Zodiac sign: Capricorn

Ok, I swear that is the last. As long as Katie doesn't find anymore of the things to post to her blogs. Then I might have to use them.
I have my Southern Writers class today, which is awesome, but I haven't really done the reading for it because I've been doing my paper. I don't really want to do it either. I am a slacker. I am also kind of tired, so I am thinking of laying on the couch and calling my mother. Fun, huh?
Well, on that note, I will retire. Have fun all. If anyone from BAM is reading this, you better call/email me. Miss you.

More procrastinations, survey style

Ok, so I found this hugely long survey on my friend Katie's livejournal. And since I need a good concluding paragraph for my paper and no ideas are in sight, I am going to do it. You may hate me, but listen bastard, you don't have to read it you know.

°Part 1 - You°
-- Name: Morgan
-- Birth date: January 18
-- Birthplace: Big Stone Gap, VA (yes, I know it's the title of a very poorly written book)
-- Current Location: Williamsburg, VA
-- Eye Color: brown
-- Hair Color: brown
-- Righty or Lefty: lefty in every way you can think of
-- Zodiac Sign: Capricorn
°Part 2 - Describe°
-- Your heritage: I'm pretty much just a mixed up pup, but I think we are mostly Scotch-Irish
-- Shoes you wore today: brown Birkenstock sandles
-- Your hair: long brown and straight with bangs
-- Your eyes: big, brown and covered with horn rimmed glasses
-- Your weakness?: ice cream, men with Ph d's, men who want to have Ph d's, fat babies, people who say "Ya'll have a good un."
-- Your fears: needles, rats, roaches, the police when I am driving
-- Your perfect pizza: Ok, if I'm getting it at a restaurant, pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese. If I'm making it, I like barbecued chicken with caramelized onions and smoked Gouda. Yum.
-- One thing you'd like to achieve: an award winning book of short stories and a Ph d toting husband
°Part 3 - What is...°
-- Your most overused phrase on AIM: I have never and will never use that thing.
-- Your thoughts first waking up: If he doesn't turn off that damn alarm clock, I will surely kill him, cute butt or no
-- The first feature you notice in the opposite/same sex: eyes
-- Your best physical feature: eyes and shoulders I've been told
-- Your bedtime: usually around 12, but it vacillates
-- Your greatest accomplishment: I won a creative writing scholarship for my story "The Missionary" which is actually totally unrelated to the sexual position.
-- Your most missed memory: Matt and I driving an hour to go the movies and then eating at Perkins. Then we would have sex in the backseat. Oh (cramped) memories.
°Part 4 - You Prefer°
-- Pepsi or coke: Coke, no doubt about it. Pepsi sucks.
-- McDonald's or Burger King: Neither actually. I saw Super Size Me, and I can cook, so why would I even care?
-- Single or group dates: Single
-- Adidas or Nike: I boycott Nike because of the whole sweatshop thing, so Adidas I guess, even though the only sneakers I have are Chuck Taylors.
-- Lipton or Nestea: Lipton, I think.
-- Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate in huge quantities
-- Cappuccino or coffee: I like cappucino Jelly Belly's but when it comes to the actual drink, I'd have to say regular coffee.
-- Boxers or briefs: boxers, baby
°Part 5 - Do You...°
-- Smoke: nope
-- Cuss: Hell no. That shit is stupid.
-- Sing well: When I'm in my car alone and the right song is on, I'm fucking Sarah Brightman. I swear it.
-- Take a shower everyday: Mostly. Sometimes I take baths.
-- Have a crush(es): only my afforementioned jelly belly crush
-- who are they: all of them, esp. cappucino, buttered popcorn, caramel corn, toasted marshmallow and cafe latte
-- Do you think you've been in love: I should hope so. Otherwise I've wasted a hell of a lot of time.
-- Want to go to college: I be there bitches.
-- Like school: Love it. I'm a nerd.
-- Want to get married: Yepper.
-- Type with your fingers on the right keys: Yes. Ms. Hensdill, although stoned, made an indelible imprint on my mind, and now I have to.
-- Believe in yourself: I guess.
-- Get motion sickness: Only on when driving on that mountain between Hanging Rock and Flatwoods back home.
-- Think you're a health freak: No way. Life's too short to not eat good food, and the only exercise I get is hauling ass across campus and in the sack.
-- Get along with your parents: Yes. Not seeing them much helps.
-- Like thunderstorms: Love them. As a kid, my grandfather and I watched them outside on his porch.
-- Play an instrument: I played piano for about 5 years and clarinet for about 2. The piano was played because my mother wanted me to, and the clarinet because I had a crush on a boy. Neither lasted.
°Part 6 - In the past month did/have you°
-- Drank alcohol: Yes. I am right now, actually.
-- Smoke(d): noper
-- Done a drug: nope
-- Made Out: yep, and it was goo-ud (he he)
-- Go on a date: Matt and I don't really date. We sit here and eat and talk. If that's a date, I guess I do it every night.
-- Go to the mall?: nope
-- Eaten an entire box of Oreos: not in the past month, but I have done it
-- Eaten sushi: actually yes, at Mongolian. It was vegetarian so I'm not sure it counted.
-- Been on stage: nope
-- Been dumped: nope
-- Gone skating: nope
-- Made homemade cookies: Yep, frosted shortbread. Those bitches were good.
-- Been in love: Am currently.
-- Gone skinny dipping: nope
-- Dyed your hair: Nope
-- Stolen anything: yep
°Part 7 - Have you ever...°
-- Played a game that required removal of clothing?: yup
-- If so, was it mixed company: Yes. Matt and I played strip chess when we were 16 and nubile. I was naked within 5 minutes. I still suck at chess.
-- Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: Yes. And it's funny.
-- Been caught "doing something": Yes.
-- Been called a tease: I don't think so, but I probably should have been.
-- Gotten beaten up: no. I would cry.
-- Shoplifted: Yep, on a few occasions. I'm a thrill seeker.
-- If so, did you get caught: nope
-- Changed who you were to fit in: Yes, I think so. Life sucks like that.
°Part 8 - The Future°
-- Age you hope to be married: I am thinking of being married by this summer. Imagine that.
-- Numbers and Names of Children: 2, Gabrielle and Sam.
-- Descibe your Dream Wedding: Wren Chapel, short, Heroes playing at the end, lots of champagne and bbq at the reception, long honeymoon
-- How do you want to die: Depends. If I start getting cranky and cut my hair off and become old woman-esque, I want to be shot. If I'm cool, I want to be very old and in my bed.
-- What do you want to be when you grow up: a writer
-- What country would you most like to visit: Greece
°Part 9 - Opposite/same sex°
-- Best eye color?: brown or blue, but they got to be big and expressive
-- Best hair color?: dark brown
-- Short or long hair?: either, but short's the best I guess
-- Best height: a little taller than me, but not much.
-- Best weight: Just normal I guess. Not too big, not too small.
-- Best articles of clothing: cheesy pop-culture related t-shirt (kudos if its in another language) and vintage look jeans
-- Best first date location: Matt and I went to Alison's restaurant in Abingdon, VA, so there I guess.
-- Best first kiss location: If it's that good, you don't need a good place. I could get kissed at Three Mile Island, but if it's good, who the hell cares?
°Part 10 - Number of°
-- Number of guys I have kissed: a few
-- Number of boyfriends you've had: once again, a few
-- Number of drugs taken illegally: 1 drug that's not really a drug if you ask me
-- Number of people I could trust with my life: probably just one
-- Number of CDs that I own: I don't know. I still have ones from when I was like 13. I just don't know.
-- Number of piercings: I just have the basic ear piercing.
-- Number of tattoos: 0
-- Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper?: A whole bunch. I grew up in a small town who basically just covered events at our school. Plus I was a smart kid, so it just added to the fact. My grandparents have them all cut out and put into a book.
-- Number of scars on my body: a few

Procrastination and Other Enemies of the Current Regime

Ok, so I know procrastination is not really an enemy of our political leaders. But it is an enemy of mine, as right now I should be working on this paper I have due for tomorrow on femininity in the New South. Instead, I am coming up with catchy titles for blog reports and getting ready to do a lengthy survey I just found on my friend Katie's blog. So here goes. Don't hate.

FIRSTS::
First best friend: Melissa Helton, my kindergarten friend who loved me despite my tears and baby-like tendencies
First car: 1999 Yellow Volkswagen Beetle, not so unlike the silver Beetle that I now drive. I wrecked it when I was 16 coming around a mountain curve. It sucked.
First real date: I went to this guy Milton's house to meet his parents. He was taking me to the prom, so it just seemed right. He was 18, I was 13. I was cool. I wore a blue cardigan sweater from the Gap and spilt some sort of sauce on it. I was crushed.
First real kiss: I kissed Jonathan Sykes when I was about 12. We made out at a basketball game. It was sweet, albeit a little wet.
First break-up: Jonathan Sykes. I fell to the floor and wept when he told me. You would have thought someone cut my arm off. I remember listening to that song "Back for Good" by some British boy band and just sobbing.
First screen name: Violet on mIRC chat room. I played Violet Beuregard in a production of Willy Wonka when I was a kid, and liked the Hole song of the same name so it just seemed to fit.
First self purchased album: I don't remember. My first cd was The Bodyguard cd, but my parents bought it for me for Christmas, and they only got it because my mom wanted it. Sad, huh?
First funeral: I'm from the South, and we love funerals, so I don't remember.
First pets: My first fish were Wet and Water (creative, huh?), but they died, so I got a dog, Nicholas. I loved that dog madly. He was named after the Tsar of the same name. This is how I know that I am meant to be with a Russo-phile.
First piercing/tattoo: I got my ears pierced at 4. I am scared of needles, so I don't intend on doing anything else.
First credit card: I got it when I moved to Williamsburg. DAMN YOU MBNA!
First true love: I would have to say that honor would belong to Matt.
First enemy: Ladonna Olinger. Bitch bit me on my first day of dance class. I was three. Her mom told my mom that she was an unplanned child, so we blamed her inadequacies on that.
First musician you remember hearing in your house: my mom. She plays the piano. She used to do weddings and stuff.
::LASTS::
Last cigarette: I have never, and will never, smoke. But I walked into Tucker today, so that has to count for something.
Last car ride: driving home from school today
Last kiss: I kissed Matt today when he went back to work.
Last good cry: a couple of weeks ago
Last library book checked out: Half Sisters of History and The Belle Gone Bad for my paper
Last movie seen: "Suspect Zero" in theater, "Gone with the Wind" at home
Last beverage drank: a Coke
Last food consumed: some potato skins with sour cream I made for lunch
Last crush: I currently have a crush on Jelly Belly's. Does that count?
Last phone call: my mom this morning
Last time showered: this morning
Last shoes worn: brown Birkenstock sandals. Damn the rain.
Last cd played: Matt's Billy Idol/Iggy Pop mix cd
Last item bought: Jelly Belly's, chocolate and caramel apple in CW yesterday
Last annoyance: the hot water not working in my apartment this weekend
Last disappointment: I was making a Jelly Belly concoction, and the Jelly Belly that I thought was chocolate was in fact root beer. Nasty.
Last time scolded: Matt for something, probably for shutting his car door by the window or losing the keys or touching him after I have touched chicken parts.
Last shirt worn: purple long sleeve t-shirt
Last website visited: the Blogger homepage
Last word you said: "day." I told Matt to have a good day.
Last song you sang: "Closer to Fine" by The Indigo Girls
::WHAT?!::
What is in your cd player?: I have a changer: 1. Wes Charlton's cd he gave me 2. David Bowie Mix 3. Summer Mix that starts with Girl You Know It's True 4. some strange mix from high school with lots of Dave Matthews on it 5. Matt's Iggy Pop mix 6. Franz Ferdinand
What color socks are you wearing?: I don't wear socks. I hate them.
What Color of underwear are you wearing?: red. They say "I see France" on the front.
What's under your bed?: sweater boxes filled with sweaters, boxes of photos and mementos, parts of Matt's honors thesis
What time did you wake up today?: 7:30 when Matt got up for work
::FUTURE::
Where do you want to go?: either Princeton, NJ or Madison, WI
Where are you going to live?: probably there for 8 years or so, and then wherever. At some point I am going to live in Asheville, NC.
How many kids do you want?: 2
What kind of car(s): whatever, just not a minivan or SUV
::CURRENT::
Current mood: good, a little sleepy
Current music: Iggy Pop
Current taste: Coke
Current hair: in a pony tail
Current clothes: green wide leg chinos, purple long sleeve t-shirt, brown belt
Current desktop picture: Sealab 2021
Current favorite artist: what kind of artist? I like Edvard Munch if we're talking visual.
Current book(s): War and Peace, Look Homeward, Angel, Absalom, Absalom!
Current color of toenails: natural, whatever color that is

So that's it. Had fun. I had hoped to learn something about myself, but oh well. It was still cool.

Meanderings on Aging

Ok, I know I have already written today, but I have an interesting new topic to discuss. I am hoping to air my thoughts on this matter and get it off of my mind. So here goes.

Today while running some errands, I saw my freshman seminar professor, a man who, while teaching me to write in a more academic fashion, taught me that someday I want to be in a position where I am sleeping with a professor, preferably in a married relationship (but hey, I'm flexible). I mean, this guy has got it all: he's blazingly smart, fiercely good looking, and has this really perfectly scathing wit. And he likes Morrissey, and in my experience, the more a man loves brooding English musicians, the better potential mate he is. ANYWAY, he is ideal, the kind of guy you write home about using all the flowery language that you did when you were 16.

Last year, he left William and Mary under heavy suspicion, since his was a tenure-track position, and a good one at that. I had heard that he slept with a student, and thus, had to get the hell out since his wife teaches in the same department, and well, the ole W&M doesn't exactly smile on the whole student/teacher thing. I was intrigued, and in between cries of "WHY WASN'T IT ME???!!!" followed by spells of binge drinking, I tried to figure out all about the whole deal. Needless to say, I didn't find out anything. William and Mary did a great job of sweeping the whole thing under the rug, and so I was out of luck.

So today, I see him. He was driving a fairly inexpensive, slightly ugly car with Maryland plates. Definitely a rental, probably from the Baltimore airport (at this point, I want to thank all the hours of Law and Order that have allowed me to make that judgement). He's loading his kids into the car, and looks slightly less hot and a little, well, war-wounded. I mean, you could tell it was him, but there was definitely something different. So I come home and do what any self-respecting semi-stalker would do: I Googled him. Turns out he's teaching at this little known college in Colorado, some place that's a great step down (at least it seems to me) from William and Mary (there was also this article about him having problems with the moving truck company that moved him to Colorado, but that's neither here nor there).

So here's the thing (see, there's a point to this). It made me sad. Not because that now I will definitely not get the chance to take him to a cheesy seafood restaurant and then walk on the beach and then go to a cheesy hotel room...you get the picture. But because he didn't make it. When I had him as a professor, I thought of him as someone who had made it. He was a parent, a married guy, a guy who owned a station wagon, but he hadn't sold out. He was still smart, and still liberal, and still cool. For me, he was a role model. He was proof that you don't have to turn into John Q. Dumb-American the minute that you get out of college and enter the real world. He had bought into it all, but he was still the kind of guy that you could talk to, and not about mortgages and soccer games. He still used the word "patriarchy" in dinner conversation. He was everything that I want to be when I am that age.

But somehow it didn't work out. He's now this divorced guy, a guy who rarely sees his kids and probably goes to cheesy bars where he drinks imported beer and tries to talk to female graduate students, who if they are halfway intelligent, at least have a one-night stand with him. He hasn't shucked any kind of convention. He's just a guy, another American tragedy, another guy who screwed the pooch per se, and lost a lot. He's not a guy to look up to--he got bitch-slapped by our quick-fix culture, and he didn't fight back.

So now, at least for the moment, I have a pretty dour opinion of growing older. It seems to me that you're just bound to end up unhappy, no matter what. I don't even know why, it just seems like that right now. It's sad to grow older now. You have nothing to look forward to but mini vans and alimony. Yea.

So those are my meanderings. I am going to go stir my fancy French beef dish, and hope that when my man gets home, he realizes that I slaved over a hot stove, and that ergo, he should never cheat on me. Feel free to comment, oh great many people who read this (yeah, Katie, I know you got somethin' to say).

Gotta make it quick...

Today's blurb has to be quick, as I have to go to class. Just wanted to advertise the most kick-ass website that I have seen: whitehouse.org. Please go there, as it rocks, and is a worthwhile thing to contribute your hard-earned cash to. I have spent my morning laughing hysterically while looking at it, and if you got no cash, you can do that too. The laughter is free.

I am well-rested and cute today. Quality of life has improved massively since quitting job. I am fixing boeuf bourguignon for supper tonight, and my lovely significant other has promised me that we will go to get some ice cream tonight. I am looking forward to it.

Well, must go. Class awaits.

I'm Baaaack!

When I say "I'm baaack," I mean it in many, many ways. But today in the interests of time and space and whatever, I am going to keep my welcome back post (first one in a month!!!) to a few handy-dandy lists.

What I Have Learned in the Past Month
1. You can only do so much.
2. Laziness is not a vice. It can be very rewarding.
3. Leo Tolstoy so rocked. Hands off, Oprah.
4. A life lived in a strange, sleepy haze is no life at all.
5. If you do just a few things and do them really, really well, no one can complain.
6. The town of Madison, Wisconsin is smaller than Richmond, VA.
7. You should take people's advice. Especially when they live with you and know you quite well.
8. You gotta do what you gotta do.
9. Corporations are never good. Here's a shocker: They have their own interests in mind!!!
10. Epicureanism is a good philosophical path, if one needs a philosophical path.

Things that I Have Embraced About Myself
1. I tend to forget to pay bills on time, even when I have the money.
2. I need sleep.
3. I need to drink Coke, despite the nutritional information to the contrary.
4. I need to talk to my mother at least once a day.
5. I'm a writer, and that's it. I'm not meant to work for the Man, or work in the service of others.
6. I'm at my best when I am as far removed from the general public as possible.
7. I like Bon Jovi, and that will never change.
8. I enjoy low forms of culture (VH1, The Golden Girls, cop shows) but if you want to talk about postmodern literature, sit down, bitch, I got something to say (i.e. I can do that too).
9. I tend to fall down steps.
10. I like to lay in bed and smile at whomever is laying there beside of me.
11. I like cotton underwear, even if I am going to get lucky that day. It's just more comfortable.

Things I Need to Improve About Myself
1. I guess I should pay the bills on time.
2. I need to start folding my laundry instead of just leaving it in a Leaning Tower of Pisa-esque structure in my room.
3. I need to stop taking my boyfriend for granted.
4. I need to write more.
5. I need to slow down and chill out and enjoy things rather than rush from here to there in some sort of attempt to be able to buy clothes and lipstick.
(Of course you knew this list would be shorter than the others. I am a Southern Literary Queen after all.)

And finally...Things that Piss Me Off
1. The word "muggy."
2. Bad writing that is supposed to be good writing. I mean bad writing for bad writing's sake is great, but when it is supposed to be an attempt at literature, come on!
3. Those "W" stickers that everyone has on the back of their SUV's that are printed with the American flag. How frigging retarded are you people?
4. Oprah, Dr. Phil, and other self-help aficionados.
5. William and Mary Parking Services.
6. The head D.A. on Law and Order. He gives the South a bad name.
7. People dissing John Kerry's military record. I mean, come on, the guy looks like Lurch, and WHEN he gets elected, he is going to inherit a whole heap of bad shit. He's got enough problems.
8. Consumerist mentality.
9. Pretentious people (although I know sometimes that I am pseudo-pretentious--It's like those homophobes who are secretly gay. Jerry Falwell for example--oh shit, I just compared myself to Jerry Falwell. Shoot me now.)
10. The fact that weekends are only two days, and that there are no compulsory "reading days" in the "real world."