Friday, November 24, 2006
Joe came to visit and painted a floating Teddy Roosevelt head
on Holly’s wall.
I went to pledge formal dressed as the Childlike Empress.
Got toasts and kisses. There was too much naked.
I have been writing lots of notes to myself, forgetting about them, and finding them later. They say things like “even in my dreams I rely heavily on air quotes” and “how do you absolutely feel?”
How do you absolutely feel?
A new theme at the house has been “the joys and hazards of living with an art student.” Such as: there is barbed wire and cigarette butts in the Jell-O. And: at three in the morning in a dark kitchen, clumps of sawdust on a cookie tray can look deceptively like apple crisp.
I don’t think it is possible to love Jesse any more than I already do. Look at him. Look!
In other house news, Jess took Binx to get fixed. Bye-bye, Binx’s manhood. You were a smelly manhood and shan’t be missed.
Ilana got married and the wedding was beautiful and perfect. The amazing Kat and I looked after many a bebe and it was verygoodtimes. Babies in tiny formalwear and yamikas are awesome. Kat Godfrey is awesome. Chocolate fountains are awesome. Children’s television programming is dreadful.
I made a friend on the internets. *waves*
Things happened at Linda’s and Skylight and Fuse and The Cave and they were all fun and everybody involved was exceptionally good-looking.
Other things have happened but I’ve mostly forgotten them. This is why I keep this godforsaken blog in the first place. Bah.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Chapter One: In which our heroine experiences soul-death and later ruins a perfectly good wristwatch.
We went to Asheville this weekend to see Broken Social Scene play at the Orange Peel. Early Saturday morning everyone in the house was awake and on drugs and in the process of baking a biscuit the size and shape of Japan. MattThomas got us to Asheville in three hours. I spent most of that time in a contented narcotic haze, having tranquilized myself thoroughly after hearing the words “grad school.” (We listened to Dragonforce as gauzy sunlight spilled through the windows and it was glorious, glorious.) There was lunch at the Asheville Pizza and Brewing Company and then we met up with the others downtown. (total: me, Matt, Kenton, Cameron, Erin, Gene) At a bookstore we watched some bizarre hippies doing performance art…some sort of strange falling-leaning dance where they melted and oozed all over one another. Later, CameronKentonGene attempted to bring this artform to the streets of Asheville.
(pictures ganked from the lovely interrobang)
There was coffee and dinner and bars and then !! indie rock !! (It was very very cold at this point; we clumped together into an amoeba of warmth.) We played Destructo while waiting for the show to start (cup of meat destroyed by meat sweat destroyed by kidney failure destroyed by electrolysis destroyed by power outage…) and made a few friends in the process (copyright law destroyed by Cory Doctorow destroyed by tragic ride malfunction at Disney World…). Do Make Say Think opened and rocked out like a bunch of verbs. Broken Social Scene played a three! hour!! set!!! and it was incredible.
MattThomas and I drove back to Chapel Hill after the show because there was babysittin’ to do in the morning, except I am an idiot and we were a week early. (It is really amazing that MattThomas hasn’t killed me yet.) I went back to bed for 20 hours or so and woke up feeling worthless and miserable. Went to work, went back to sleep, feel better today. Is it still raining? Yes? Good.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damn you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm.
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.
(Pssst. I actually love gray weather and maple leaves and puddles and apple cider and so, yes, the world is perfect perfect perfect.)
Everybody come see The Wall, kay?
Saturday, October 21, 2006
On Wednesday afternoon, after having spent some time in the shower, crying, hugging my knees, staring blankly at the soap-bottle and thinking “Well, now what,” I received a call from MattThomas, fixer of all things. He and Daniel drove me home to see my mom, who had been taken to the hospital for surgery that afternoon. She was in a lot of pain for a couple of days. I drew her baths, scratched her back, held her hand, helped around the house, did what I could to make things better for her. Today she was feeling much healthier, so much so that we were able to go on a walk this morning. Hopefully she’ll be back to swimming a mile a morning in no time.
It has been good to be home. I feel useful here, and loved. Papa makes me cinnamon toast for breakfast, Joe and I stay up late watching his latest films (Teddy Roosevelt’s Organelle Safari is a must-see), and Tom the cat bites my toes (lovingly). Joe and I went on a date last night to the Witches Brew, and then later he, Monty, and I went to Lincolnton’s new Waffle House. Classy. Picture:
I’ve been to the doctor finally, (was still running a 100 degree fever till Friday for whatever reason) and I got my Zoloft dosage doubled plus a flu shot. I’m severely anemic again, which explains the fatigue. Lots more pills for me. Oh pills.
Thanks so much to everybody who has called me and expressed their concern for both me and my mom. It feels really good to know that I am cared for.
Love you guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Much like a Rachael Ray recipe, the past two weeks have been erratic and absurd. The flakey crust of mayhem and laffs may suggest nothing but delicious enjoyment, but the hearty smattering of misery and confusion is leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
/end idiot metaphor
I’m going to go ahead and get all of the worrisome stuff out of the way right now. I really need to clear my head. Later on I’m going to pay tribute to all the good stuff and Jesse-mayhem that has gone on recently which will hopefully cheer me up and not make me seem like such a sad kid. But first.
Let me preface it this way. Here is what is not fun: having panic attacks for no good reason, leaving your friends downstairs to go curl into the fetal position and cry, hoping vaguely for someone to come comfort you (nobody does and your heart is beating muchtoofast). Here is what is not fun: the 6am check to see if the person you are seeing is in bed with any of your housemates, since he sure isn’t in bed with you, (and, well). Here is what is not fun: your mom being very sick with another strange chronic condition and she is worried and sad and you are worried and sad and you just want to go home and make things better. Here is what is not fun: vivid nightmares every night, sore tense muscles every morning, and the feeling that everything is and has been wrong for a very long time now.
Also I am worried about this: when I moved to Chapel Hill I didn't know anyone or anything and I liked it that way. It's been five years and my mistakes are written everywhere and I sometimes think it would be good to go someplace new and start fresh. But what if I'm just fooling myself; pretending like anywhere I move to next will be any different in the end, like once half a decade goes by things won't feel stagnant and spent, like living this way won’t mean having to keep on and keep on leaving people and places in my wake like wasted empty plastic bags.
On top of everything, I’ve been sick this week with a fever-tummy-headache bug. It rains all day and my heart hurts and I’m lonely. I want to feel good about things, people. I want to feel good about things; people.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
This morning on the bus, a dialogue:
Emily enters bus with a million pounds of crap, sits down next to tall blond Austrian dude
t-bad: You have enough stuff dere, ya?
em: Ha, ha. Yeah.
t-bad: You having good semesta at school?
em: Um, I’m not a student. I work. At the university.
t-bad: Oh! What do you do?
em: I manage a research lab. Psychology.
t-bad: Oh! Does it make you happy? You sit on the leetle couch?
em: Heh…actually I do research on memory.
t-bad: On what?
t-bad: On what?
em: Mem…ha, ha.
t-bad: So you work with the leetle rats?
em: Um, no. With people.
t-bad: You know how it is easier to remember some things, like… the ice cream flavors? but harder to remember people’s names? You know?
t-bad: You should do experiment…with different ice cream flavors. And different kinds of potatoes! You know? The little…red potatoes and the big white ones?
em: Oh yeah. That…would be interesting.
t-bad: Ah, I missed my stop.
Today at work I noticed that the green light that the copier gives off is exactly the color of something that would cause one to mutate or develop superpowers. My right hand is constantly exposed to that green light. And so it is only a matter of time before I develop the ability to duplicate things just by poking them with my index finger. (Logic.) This would prove handy in replicating many things (twenty dollar bills, AA batteries, socks) but I’d have to wear a protective glove at times, for certain. Just imagine…I’d be absently petting Binx and wham! a house full of tiny black kitties. Jess’ sheets would never be clean again. Oooh…but at the movies I could eat popcorn forever and the bag would NEVER BE EMPTY.
Okay, best superpower ever.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I’m curious about the guy on the bus every morning with the long wet hair who is always writing furiously in his Moleskine. Is he crazy, brilliant, pretentious? What the heck is he writing about? Is he taking careful study of everyone on the bus? Or perhaps writing down his detailed Alice Cooper fantasies? Mysteries.
Oh and really, there are few things quite as bothersome as waking up to find an angry e-mail written to you in Spanish from your ex. Okay, yes, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to see your band play last night. But I had other plans and besides, maybe I’m not ready to see you yet. Maybe I’m not ready to see you yet. Quizás no estoy listo verle.
It is a tiresome life I lead.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Both remind me of how I used to sit in eighth grade algebra and stare intently at some symbol in the textbook, trying to merge myself into it. IF I FOCUS ALL OF MY MENTAL ENERGY ON THIS BETA I WILL SHRINK SO TINY SMALL INTO AN INK DOT AND THEN I CAN SLEEP FOREVER AND BE TINYSMALL AND NO ONE WILL EVER BOTHER ME
Those who know me well may recognize this sort of thinking from a time not too long ago. Ah, me! But all those people are gone.
Today during my lunch break I lay down under a sugar maple and thought about home.
(but it seemed the way men and women did and we had not made the world.)
My throat feels bee-stung. I’m starting to feel again like I should leave this place.
I also feel as if I could cry but I think instead I will make a list, read for a while, sleep if I can (I can’t), then go to work and do simple calm things.
Don’t take everything so personally, Emily.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Double sided black and white
So very boring
I have a question
It’s: what the hell is toner?
What the hell is it?
The copy machine
Hates me. It knows I’m coming.
It will jam again.
Quit eating all my papers
I will kick you hard
Today I am writing haiku in my head whilst doing tedious tasks.
Gotta put that English degree to good use. : (
Party at the House of Awesome tonight! Get pumped!
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
So I got in about two hours worth of work in before resigning myself to the office toilet for some quality heaving. I finally gave up and went home. (And really, I was and continue to be very put out by all this…I had one beer, one admittedly potent gin and tonic, and five sips of an LIT. I blame the bartender. I blame the “beer before liquor” rule. I blame twenty-one years of relative sobriety.) On the walk back to Carrboro, some idiot drove past and made kissy noises at me. Pity he hadn’t been driving a bit slower; I could have thrown up in his car.
I was pleased to find a sleepy Neil on the couch when I got home. Among his many other fine qualities, Neil is an exceptional generator of comforting body heat and cuteness. A few hours of napping and a lot of water later and I was pretty much back to normal. But poor little Jess is still a sickly, starving thing, and Holly and I did our best to ease her suffering with the healing powers of Star Trek, Wayne’s World, and Wendy’s. A strange man who turned out to be my dad showed up at the door while we were watching House to report that my car-beast is functional once more. (Felicidades!) So today was, at the last, a good day. Bed!
First, a word about the weekend:
I think I’m getting to the point where I find Lincolnton quaint and adorable rather than stifling and vaguely depressing. And really, nothing is cuter or more representative of small-town kitsch than the Apple Festival. The fam and I made our rounds at the festival and then the lot of us went out to dinner at Fox’s, which has the best seafood ever. Ever. I found out the secret to why their baked potatoes are so damn tasty: they boil them in salt water a little before putting them in the oven. Genius! I was reminded of how when we were kids my dad would always order the seafood platter and give mom his deviled crab (her favorite). I used to think that this was the most romantic thing ever. I guess that I now think the most romantic thing ever would be having “International Small Arms Traffic Blues” sung to me, but what do I know about how the world works? Nothing, nothing.
Oh god, today. My only consolation is that eventually I will get to go home, eat a baked potato, take a nap, and go to Bryan & Andy’s to watch movies.
P.S. Holly: your head scratches so good make-a grown man cry.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Remember to unlock the car tomorrow. Remember to buy peanut butter. Remember to call everyone who needs calling. Remember to remove summer skirts. At the last of it, send out the following psychic message: Please don’t let me down. Please don’t let me down. Please don’t let me down.
I am going home today to see my family. The Lincoln County Apple Festival is this weekend, so hurry and get in all your requests for apples, apple tarts, apple pies, apple cider, apple butter, and apples covered in candy, caramel, and/or nuts.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tonight Bryan and I were driving into
Bought a bunch of books today at the used bookstore downtown, including some old Faulkner, Graham Greene, and a book of Vonnegut essays that I had never seen before and which I am pretty excited about. Certain people who owe me thirty dollars better be glad that I was occupied in sharing an umbrella with a very dapper Will Walter coming home from the comic book store and that I didn’t have a free hand to ROB and KILL them.
Starting with my next paycheck I think I’m going to begin setting aside cash for travel adventures, the first of which will be a trip to
I have big plans involving a down comforter and rain on a tin roof, so goodnight.
Monday, September 11, 2006
So I quit the cult in a fairly amusing manner and after that my weekend just kept on getting better. Nothing like free will to make your bed comfy and your food taste good. My car broke down and I continue to be lousy with ex-boyfriends (I mean that in the “covered with, as one might be covered in lice” sense, not in the “terrible with” sense) but these things are vaguely hilarious and I’m having a great time.
It’s almost autumn. I’m knitting ugly yellow legwarmers. People kept winking at me today, what’s up with that?
Friday, September 08, 2006
I forgot to mention that at the end of each session we have to close our eyes and listen intently to Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying."
I HAVE BEEN TO HELL AND THE COFFEE IS TERRIBLE.