Tom. I just found that funny.

theistheman: theron's ultimate dream
theistheman: a theron/olson twins sandwich
theistheman: booyah!
my name is adele: I'm saving this conversation to show you when you're sober.

How long must you wait for it?
How long must you pay for it?
How long must you wait for it?

I woke up at 530 to take my sister to seminary this morning. thither I went armed with nabakov and a dollar in change to buy a drink. The sky was blue out, and went the sun came up, the entire sky was streaked in pale pink. I like the smell and feel of early mornings--its a sort of splendid nostalgic that reminds me of being 15, waiting outside in the humid grass drenched air for my ride to seminary. Becca Rabe. We would listen to Sublime's 40oz to Freedom. I used to sing pumpkins lyrics to the stars. I like early mornings. They make me feel productive, and I accomplish so much during the day. I would keep on this schedule in college, but nothing fun happens until 10pm, so that idea pretty much gets thrown out the window.

I love the feeling of coming off the express lane into a residential street at 100mph.

I find a window in the kitchen
And I let myself in
I rumage through the refigerator
Burn myself on fear
I can't believe I'm really here
And she's lying in that bed
I can almost feel her touch
And her angel breath
I stumble into her way
Outside her bedroom door
I hear her call up to me
I hear the fear in her voice
She pulls her covers tighter
I press against the door
I will be with her tonight

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

just checked my email for the first time in a couple of weeks. haha - i love you guys!! thanks so much. :-D

still alive. still in Scotland with Mark. happy. everything about this is utterly surreal. my room here is pink. and there is a fountain in the backyard and a river running along one end of the Lynn-family property. been to Edinburgh and Glasgow. if you have to choose between the two - EDINBURGH. am living in Annan, right on the England/Scotland border. there are lots of sheep in Scotland. and cows. and horses. Mark's little cousin Blair - who lives with his mother in the cottage attached to the back of Northfield House - looks just like the little kid from Life is Beautiful. when calling home to ask parents for loan to get entirely new tickets home, mom abruptly informed me that my dad lost his job in July. they weren't going to tell me until I got home. life is like a business cycle. these have been the happiest days and weeks of my life.

will email & post more when back in US, when have Internet access again. ciao. :-D

So today Smith comes over with a new companion, an elder Sogei (pronounced Soggy). Sogei was the first elder to ever come over to the house that I've been at all interested in getting to know. The boy's a graphic design graduate from Mongolia, and while his language skills are limited so we don't talk much, he's funny as heck and amazingly charming. He helped me to the landscaping in the back, and made me load him with sod that he carried across the yard. He wouldn't let me do heavy lifting. Then, he held open doors and made sure I got down from things safetly. I was rather stunned--I run into very few charming and mannerly individuals anymore--let alone men. He made a concerted effort to talk with me, even though his accent was thick and I spoke too fast. It was really hard, but somehow we managed to talk about our schools. He asked me where I went, and I said "Northwestern." He kind of sucked in his breath and goes "ooooooooh. That's REALLY good." So there we are kids, proof that NU is a great school--we're famous, even in Mongolia.

Plus, he laughed incredibly hard during 40) Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, which he had never seen before. That's sure to win points with me. Smith spent most of the time on the bed, where I gave him a manicure. Boys are so lazy. Still, I miss my ones at school almost as much as I miss my homegirls, yo.

Other than Sogei, my day was pretty uneventful. I was in one of those moods where nothing seems to connect much with anything. I spaced out a lot. I feel restless--like i'm wasting time. Incredibly bored. You know that scene in Atlas where Dagny runs away to the log cabin after she quits TT for the first time? And by the time Francisco gets there she has a new entry way and the roof is reshingled? Yeah, it's a lot like that. Only I get no projects done--just mundane chores. Sad, since all I want to do is write.

Tomorrow--VMAs!

41) Superstar (story of my life)

Tom:
1) Kylie Minogue et al: You are totally right, I am the Creed to your Pearl Jam. However, seeing the video today reminded me of your earlier post, so I thought I'd bring it in. Sorry for the lack of reference. I accept responsability for copyright infringement.
2) Warrant (Who, by the way, I love): I definitly have to consent to your superior use of logic in this particular facet of the debate. But the main point I'm trying to get across is that while logically its ok for women to act as individuals and treat their bodies however they want, that doesn't mean that I'm proud to see another women in what I perceive to be a demeaning and demoralizing position, and I will become illogically angry at all parties involved for infringing on what is propriety and good taste. But blah blah blah, the point is, you one the round. And thank you for correcting my horrendous grammar...it was supposed to be unacceptable. I'm losing my mind of late.

Your daughter's tied up in a Brooklyn basement

There's a party at your house, 'cause your momma is a stripper.

Things that are Acceptable given Particular Extenuating Circumstances:
1. Avril Lavigne is wicked cute, even if she is wicked stupid. Plus, “Complicated” is about a cute little alternative boy that tries to be preppy to fit in and how that’s all wrong, Plus, she wrote a song about skater boys, which is precious even if she went all gay on us and spelled it “sk8er boi.”
2. Wood/Water had one good gem of a song within the entire disappointing mess, so I felt I should draw attention to the only worthwhile part of the album.
Oh, and Adele, mom and I found some hotpink stuff for you during an old navy sale last week. You probably won’t like it because, well, it’s Old Navy, but it was only like $3 for all of it, so we’re not exactly gonna be crushed if you don’t like it.

So I’m ironing yesterday watching Kylie Minogue videos, and I’m thinking “Man, she’s like an alien. People think she’s sexy?” Her face is bizarre—too long, with small eyes framed by great, sweeping eyebrows and then these huge suction cup lips. Her body’s pretty hot, but in the videos she’s jerking and twisting like a spaz, making her seem even more robotic. I came away thinking of how disturbing I found the whole situation.

I’m thinking that Britney stripping at the 2000 video music awards was way sexier than Britney trying to be a Biblical temptress with a python at the 2001 VMA. Feedback?

Oh, and Tom, all I was going to say in rebuttal to the feminazi comment about half naked women in videos is this. Just because someone is willing to do something, or even wants to do something in a public forum, does not mean that we should condone that action or in any way say that action is acceptable. While a woman may want to objectify herself, that still does not take away from the fundamental issue that turning women into sexual objects is a desirable action. By encouraging women to prostrate themselves, the band in question acts as a sort of demoralizing catalyst, cheerleaders who encourage other women to follow the example of one stupid woman. However, this said, I don’t agree with the feminist approach to dealing with the problem of objectification in music videos or the media. The bands are stupid, and are a byproduct of a big problem. Attacking them is just a way for a fringe group to get a little attention. I think attacking the women for being a moron is a much better use of resources. Naturally, the crux of this argument is based on the assumption that porn, Hollywood, and sexually charged music videos are degrading women by emphasizing their sexual appeal while diminishing or ignoring any deeper contribution they have to offer. Many individuals to not agree with that assumption. So maybe, Tom, in this case I am a knee jerk feminazi. But maybe I’m just sick of always turning on the tv and seeing women as virgins or hooches, you know?

I almost got in a wreck on the way to school this morning because of the mix I was listening to. I was driving with so much adrenaline during Quarashi’s “stick em up” that I was pushing 65 in a 40. during morning traffic. By weaving in and out of lanes. That song makes me want to rip some one’s head off, I love it. It’s such an amazing rush. After that were some old classics like “American Badass” and “rollin’.” I’m on an amazing high right now.

38) Rushmore
39) Little secrets

Herman: So what’s the secret, Max?
Max: The Secret?
Herman: You seem to have things pretty figured out.
Max. I guess you just have to find something you love doing. For me it’s going to Rushmore.
Herman: She was my Rushmore, Max
Max: She was mine, too.

I’m on the mike like a fascist—Mussolini

Things that are Unacceptable

1. making Avril Lavigne number one on any list other than a hit list.
2. quoting from Wood/Water, which really is as bad as the critics say it is.

Sorry, Mary. I love you, but these things cannot go unmentioned.

Adventures from my weekend:
1) raked and bagged back yard. have sore quads because of it.
2) my brother made a 'rope' out of belts and tied up bed sheets and attached it to the banister. he tried to shimmy down it and fell 15 feet onto the hardwood floor. I am sitting talking with my parents and the misionaries when I see a large lump fly down behind my father's head. This flying object was then proceeded by a loud *THUD* and then a few seconds of silence. "Owe" says my brother. Then he started to cry. This morning he was running around, perfectly fine.
3) Me: Woah there, elder smith. you sure you should have dessert? you might lose your girlish figure
Elder Smith: well, at least I have a girlish figure
4) I caught a tiny lizard in my parents bathroom. It was pink and yellow, and while trying to corner it, its tail came off and started twisting like a madman around the room. i let it go outside. the lizard, not the tail. we stepped on the tail, but it kept moving
5) 11:00pm-3:15am conversation with mark. for a few minutes i forgot i wasn't in his room, lying on the carpet, whining about whatever pathetic trivial thing is bothering me at the moment.

Oh yeah, you're pretty good looking for a girl.

I think I invent problems because I want drama. Or because I have nothing better to fill my time than to embellish and create my own obstacles to overcome.

Selection breeds on its own.

I am afraid that I will never be able to be as happy as i was as a literary magazine editor. to have complete control over every facet of a book, to build it with my hands, to be involved in every stage of direction and production, to have purpose and drive and respect and power. That said, I realized last night exactly what kind of books I want to start creating last night. And no one has ever seen books like this created before. I mean that literally and figurativly. I do this with the full and complete knowledge that these books will never be published. But they will be mine.

Last night on the Mass Pike thought I was losing you. Last night on the Mass pike I fell in love with you.

I liked Tom's last post. the one thats all feel good conservativey. but i need to rebuttle the feminzai post, as soon as i structure my counter argument in a convincing way. and tony's, the one about the dog. and adele's conversation with the dunken doughnuts man. these things made me happy, for one reason or another.

Mary said: "They have the darkness there in their eyes"

Things I believe are objectivly good:
1) Teaching Sunday school (I got asked back because the kids loved my obedience lesson so much! yay!)
2) Dry, 100+ degree heat
3) Driving too fast with loud music
4) Performing manual labor
5) Bottled Mexican Pepsi
6) Sleep
7) Waking up to Adam's Song

Last Night I tuned around and thought I saw myself turning. Last night I turned around and thought I saw my world ending. Destroyed in the wake, the jealous ingrates ho'll tear this world down to spite God above with His own love. If you wait, I will wait.

Rushmore could be one of the best movies ever done. Much better then the Royal Tennenbaums:
Max: Nice nurses uniform, Guy
Guy: These are O.R. scrubs
Max: Oh, are they?

The rain falls, my friends call leaking rain on the phone.

Today I'm exceptionally fine. I even put curlers in my hair, just because I hadn't done it since I was 10. It looks weird. all girly and stuff. I feel like I should be on house of style. Saw back to back episodes of "Sorority Life" (just as I expected--petty and shallow and too into themselves) while flipping through during commercials to my favorite behind the music on Posion (the second best behind the Motely Crue episode). Tell me, why was Bret's decision to come out as a diabetic such a big deal? who cares? and of course, lots of TRL. but then I did a lot of ironing, so it was a fine trade off.

I can't feel the blood in my lips move at all. But I'm just happy you stuck around.

--The CM Top 10--
What's going on this week:
1) Avril Lavigne--Catchy tunes+punk rock threads-Canadian Street Cred=A Cuter, friendlier Pink
2) VMA's--Never lives up to the hype
3) Iraq--So kill them already
4) Not updating your weblog--The new "I've been reading a lot of Nietzsche lately"
5) Chili Cheese Fritos--A party in your mouth
6) makeovers--Spicy!
7) Bond trading--combining the hardest aspects of calculus, drawing, music, and logic. caliente, jerry
8) Eminem--Ubiquitous!
9) School starting--finding ourselves somewhere between peace and quiet
10) Dating younger men--sexy!

Adventures in Fast Food

me: ... two boston creams

dunkin donoughts drive-through guy: we don't have any boston cream, but we have bavarian cream

me: oh shoot. I guess we'll take bavarian, even though we don't like bavarians

DDDTG: How can you like boston cream but not bavarian? They're the same frickin' thing!

me: I meant we don't like Bavarian people.

DDDTG: well then I'm not serving you, because I have Bavarian heritage.

(laughter)

me: ok, and I need one french cruller.

DDDTG: I guess you must like French people then.

me: eh, yeah. I guess I do.

DDDTG: French people are hairy and rude. That'll be $4.67, please pull forward.

I never conquered, rarely came
16 just held such better days
days when I still felt alive
we couldn't wait to get outside
the world was wide, too late to try
the tour was over, we'd survived
I couldn't wait till I got home
to pass the time in my room alone

Rocketstar20 (8:03:40 PM): its kelly osbourne time
Rocketstar20 (8:04:02 PM): oooh! i got earrings shapped like martini glasses
Rocketstar20 (8:04:09 PM): they have glittery olives in them
Rocketstar20 (8:04:21 PM): they make me happy
margarox0r (8:04:56 PM): are they dangly or plain?
Rocketstar20 (8:05:06 PM): dangly
Rocketstar20 (8:05:12 PM): i dont wear anythign plain
Rocketstar20 (8:05:24 PM): its my new desire to turn inot a rockstar
Rocketstar20 (8:05:31 PM): i need a new haircut
Rocketstar20 (8:05:35 PM): now
Rocketstar20 (8:05:48 PM): and extensions
margarox0r (8:06:53 PM): true dat
margarox0r (8:06:55 PM): i need those
Rocketstar20 (8:07:59 PM): i want just like.... 3 or 4 more inches tops... and thats just so it goes down my back more- i like it the length it is in the front
Rocketstar20 (8:08:04 PM): and i wnat more layers
Rocketstar20 (8:08:17 PM): and fun! I WANT FUN!!!!!!!
margarox0r (8:09:34 PM): bonnie, you are a rock star
margarox0r (8:09:38 PM): you're the next jose
Rocketstar20 (8:10:29 PM): i really just want a team of stylists followong me around.... adn i wanan give interviews... i could totally do witty banter

So awful. Bad night. I'm wishing that right now was five years from now, and that I was established and independent and had some things settled. I am immature, but I'm not a disobediant housepet. And that's what I'm expected to be.

So awful. Headache. Need to go to bed.

Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out.

Yesterday was one of those excellent days that made me forget for a moment I wasn't in high school anymore. I went down to pick up Julia from play practice, and unfortunatly all there was in the car was the "bad CD case"--the one we fill with old albums we don't listen to anymore (L7, Blur), albums we bought because we 'should' (Flipper, Lou Reed, The Melvins), albums we bought in the $3 bin (The Young Fresh Fellows, Some Velvet Sidewalk) or novelty albums we bought because they're funny (Aquabats, Dead Milkmen, The Frogs). So I pop in "What's The Story Morning Glory?" and listened to "Don't Look Back in Anger" about 30 million times over and over and over. It felt weird, sort of timeless, like none of the past 2 years had happened at all and in a few days I'd be starting Hockaday again.

I want to live life like I drive.

Hockaday always makes me feel like I'm coming home to something 7 years at an institution will do that to you, I guess. The last time I was there was when I took Mark for Spring Break. I assumed that going back there would be weird--that I would think of him. It wasn't like that at all. I came back and the only thing I could remember was me and a uniform and the pride i had as an individual with direction and purpose. What happened?

I went out to a party last night with the old skool posse: Leesie, Bonnie, Khris, Gary, Michael, Meg, and Monica. Party in our sense means dinner at nice restaurants followed by coffee and a movie. Dinner felt weird (apparently this is my word du jour) because I had the irrational feeling that most of the table was afraid of me. Half the table was talking about Vin Diesel and movies, the other half was talking about Roman writers. Every time I turned my attention to the 'intellectual side' it seemed like people would trail off, ignore me, or stammer. Now, Michael goes to Middlebury, Meg goes to Harvard, and Leesie goes to Rice, so the idea that they could feel threatned or in any way intimidated by me intellectually is out of the question. I hope. And the idea that my ideas were stupid is likewise out of the question--I'm incredibly well versed vis-a-vis classical Roman writers and historians around the golden age of the emporers. So the only logical explanation I could come to is that they didn't like me and was annoyed at my attempts to insert myself into what they felt was a conversation framing and crowning their own scholastic knowledge. Either way, I could care less. Intellectually I feel I have nothing to prove as a human being to anyone, which is why talking in great lengths about whether or not Justin Timberlake is going out with Janet or that backup dancer is fun for me. I don't care if people think I'm shallow. Pop culture is fascinating, and screw all y'all who ain't down wit dat, yo.

I got dragged to 37) Goldmember for a fourth time. I find this pathetic, really. But I was in an empty theatre, so we all just shouted along with the dialogue and I tape parts of the movie on my digital camera, which was fun. I also read an article on the decline and fall of the Backstreet Boys, my favorite boy band of all time. It made me nostalgic for the '99 "Millenium" glory days. To this day I'll rank "The Call" as one of the best pop songs ever made, even though "Black and Blue" was extremely disappointing.

As soon as I get my head around you
I come around catching sparks off you
I get an electric shock from you
And second hand living just won't do
And the way I feel tonight
I could die and I wouldn't mind

Part of my whole very trite and pathetic road to wellness i'm on is an attempt to come to grips with the whole internal/external battle I've been having since I was 15. It's beginning to dawn on me that through genetics and general food tastes, I will never be a really skinny girl. I'm never going to be svelte, I'm never going to be a size 6, I'm never going to have ab mucles like Britney Spears. As far as looks go, I'm always going to lack clear skin, cheek bones, and big eyes. I've got to accept all this. But on the other hand, that doesn't mean that I can't have a certain amount of pride in how I look. I'm really, really trying to be happy with the person I am, and it's incrediby difficult, as I am very self critical. I've always wanted to look more like Anne or Adele, and I'm never going to look like that. I don't know why this matters to me so much, but it does. I'm just chalking it up on the list of: things I have to solve before school starts.

Milo is dead.... in more ways than one.

and yes, i am aware of the number of spelling and grammar mistakes. i was rushing.

34) Dennis the Menice
35) Josie and the Pussycats (me and adele's first date)
36) Possession (again)

I taught my brother's class (5-year-olds) at church on Sunday. I think I'm a terrible teacher in general, but I had a blast this time. I taught about the importance of obedience, and all the kids had so much fun, they drew me pictures about how they would be more obedient children during the week. Then they hugged me and told me I was the best teacher ever and scampered out into the hall, clutching their crayon masterpieces. I drove home that say and for a short while, as the sun sparkled off the concrete and I saw the splashes of pink flowers through sprinklers, the world was as beautiful and innocent and simple as it should be. as i imagine it used to be.

That night my mom and I went out to dinner at a small dive in the Mexican neighborhood, and recived a classic example of what we like to call the 'gringo service.' That means, as the only white persons in the restaurant, my mother and I were waited on in the slowest possible manner, recieved the lowest quality service, and half our food was wrong. we left no tip. we are not liberals.

We decided to make a quick stop at the neighboring Fiesta! Supermercado, since it is the only provider of glass bottle cokes and pepsis in the heartland/southern united states. The place was filled with corn products, crackling, shelves of lice products, and barefooted children. I do not mind immigration, but i do mind the insistence of immagrents in bringing their second or third world standards of living into ours. To make matters worse, the woman in front of me paid for $500 in groceries with food stamps and WICH sheets, which made me sick. I don't know why. I was on welfare once too. But she just looked as if she expected it, like there was a pride involved in having the government be the provider. I don't know, maybe I'm just cynical.

Monday I had another nightmare--this one a reoccuring one that i've had for several years. I ran away this time, and I woke up before they found me. but they always find me. I hated it. i've decided to start getting up at 6 and 7am so I don't have as much time to dream. I hung around the house a bit, did a lot of babysitting, then played this killer game of tennis with my dad. I got in some really sweet punching serves. i'm really proud of myself. I'm still really behind, though. Afterwards I went to a party, saw Becky and Meg and Leesie and Bonnie and Khristinia and some old boys from St. Marks, who i was really mean to because I wasn't in the mood to do anything else. Meg is still full of herself since she directs operas at Harvard, and becky's still weird. Leesie has remained, much to my dissappintment, much sexier than me. There's something in the way she carries herself--plus she has these killer, muscular, courntey love type of legs which she flashes in short skirts. everyone else has pretty much remained the same. We watched Josie and the Pussycats, one of the most underappreciated movies of all times following Can't Hardly Wait and Mystery Men.

Tuesday I saw Possession again, giving my rapt attention to the victorian scenes and almost tuning out completely the modern scenes. I cannot stand Gwenyth Paltrow, which is funny since she used to be an idol of mine representing all I wanted to be in female sophistication. I think I realized she was vapid. Interestingly enough, there's an article in time about her which reminded me why I love the British. Paltrow was complaining of the lack of dates she had had while living in London, and the Times wrote in: "There is a certain type of man, rare in England, who are attracted to women who's only virtues are thinness and the ability to blub on cue." But I saw Possession again. Sometimes I'll see an entire movie just for one scene. The scene in question had only 4 lines of dialogue:
"You're hands are shaking. Are you frightened?"
"No."
[pause]
"A little."

On a completely less interesting note, the only reason I saw Goldmember 3 times was for the following:
1) "I don't speak freaky-deaky dutch"
2) "Do I have sharks with frickin laser beams attached to their frickin' heads?"
3) "Bring me ja schkin box. Dis one's a keeper"
4) "MiniMe aime le chocolat. Scottie n'aime pas"
and finally...
5) "Its Godzilla!"
"But due to international copyright laws, its not."
"Still, we should run like it is godzilla!"

I am easily amused.

Today I spent the whole day covered from head to toe in pretty boy who wondered in and out of the house to see me. Ryan came over, sexy as heck, a usual. he said nothing, and as i realized his silence was the silence of dimness rather than pensivness, this quickly overturned the attraction. Still, he brought pretty boy friend Billy over, as well as a very scary Mark (who looks like Justin Timberlake) dressed in a polyester suit and a brass belt buckle. we talked about women and skating. They were about to go to the nickel arcade for 4 hours of DDR, so they came and talked to me. I was going to go, but since i'm going out tomorrow, I decided not to where on the good graces of my parents. we made plans to play ddr, go launch water balloons out of the car window, and check out the IMAX astronaut movie all this week. Plus, elder smith came over, so i had someone to hit and hold most of the day. we're like that. hitting and hugging sorts of people. he's like the skinny brother i never needed to have.

wood water, at the end of the day old mary could not say nicer things.
And I'm just happy you stuck around.

Ugh. I suppose it doesn't matter that much, but I am annoyed and frustrated. Annoyed at myself for being petty and immature, and annoyed at you for making it so glaringly obvious. For what it's worth (which at this point I realize is very little) I'm sorry.

i'll make my way past the frozen sea
behind the blank horizon
where i can forget you and me
and get a decent night's sleep.

33) An American Tail

short explanation for a long absence: broken computer for several weeks, away at family reunion for one more. now I am back.

notes on summer.

This summer has been rather unremarkable. I have a job and all, but it's still been pretty much a waste. I have made no significant intellectual steps. My issues are still the same. I'm still bogged down. But things don't seem so bad right now. I'm looking forward to NES and the CM back at school, but I'm a little wary of the actual school part. I will survive. School is important. Must Pass School.

Music, lately. Pixies, Pixies, Pixies. Everyday. The best rock and roll band in the history of the universe. Pavement's Slanted and Enchanted. Sunny Day Real Estate's Diary. Built to Spill's Perfect from Now On. Pinkerton if I feel nostalgic.

incomplete untitled list.
(inclusion on this list is not equal to an endorsement)

Alkaline Trio, Goddamnit
Built to Spill, Perfect from Now On
Jimmy Eat World, Clarity
The Get Up Kids, Something To Write Home About
At the Drive-In, Relationship of Command
several Julianna Theory albums
several Dashbord Confessional related items
Midtown's most recent effort
his music (shady view terrace, from autumn to ashes..... screamy stuff.)
Beastie Boys, License to Ill

oh sigh.

I'm missing people that under normal circumstances I would be forgetting.

I want to tell you all about my family, and my job, and various things that are happening in my life. But I need some time to organize my mind. You know, just letting you all know I'm still breathing.

I'm alive!

30) office space
31) newsies
32) the sting

i'll say something more profound later

Russ that's what I love about you: "I can't stand people who don't do anything. Man, I got to go play flight sim." classic.

I just played 2 hours of tennis with a bunch of 5-8 year olds in 102 degree heat. Those kids give you a work out, man, running back and forth trying to hit their oblong returns. It started off being me and my family, but my smallest brother and sister invited a neighbor and then Margaret and Julia bailed because it was 'too hot.' Please.

Where's your head at?

I saw an old school limp bizkit video today for faith. takes me back.
Well I guess it would be nice
if i could touch your body
I know that nobody
has got a body like you.
I also saw the Strokes' "Sometime" video, which, as I wrote to Adele, makes me want to be an Italian American male getting drunk in a seedy dive somewhere in New York. That's a good thing.
You say you want to stay by my side?
Oh girl your head's not right.

I'm going out tonight. And I have to teach my mom's class in primary tomorrow during Sunday school. Her class is the five year olds. oy vey. The car nearly broke down today. It has a faulty oil tank thing or some such nonesense, so we have to take it in every couple of months. If it doesn't break down today it will break down tomorrow.

I'll make my way past the golden sea
Behind the blank horizon
Where I can forget you and me
And get a decent night's sleep

My brother and sister have been hanging out with the neighborhood boys, collecting toads which they proudly display to me in clenched fists and coming in the house with buckets full of quarter sized frogs. I think all this is darling, but i frickin' hate those kids, man. Not my brother and sister, but the boys next door, the 8 year old Tanner and the 4 year old Seth. They made my little brother watch as they took large bricks and smashed the body of a dead squirrel, then made my brother pick it up. I know that's probably something little boys do, but i think its brutal. Picking up a dead animal I can understand. Dismembering one I cannot.

27) Zoolander (you think I don't know what a u-goog-ah-lee is?)
28) Posession
29) Blue Crush

Blue crush was absolutly everything that I thought it could be and more. But I have to say, between you and me, her 'human frailty' shtick gtot a bit old. Ok, I'm sure you lost your confidence when you almost drown in the junior competitions a few years back, but for heaven's sake, pull yourself together if you're suppose to be so gd fearless.

I have a problem with people who carry too much fear around with them. They are not my people.

Posession was a brilliant suprise about forbidden and hidden love, and worth going to see simply for a scene where Ash, the poet laureate of queen victoria (in the celluloid world, anyway) comes up and touches the bare shoulder of his lover, the poetess LaMotte, for the first time. They'd been letter writing lovers for years, unable to be together, when finally she caves and runs away with him to a secluded hotel in Yorkshire for a month. I dug it. I'm always a sucker for beautiful cinematography and beautiful british people thown in beautiful sets with beautiful dialogue. call me old fashioned.

Mom and dad are out of town for the weekend. That means I get to go wild...And sleep in the master bedroom! I am so lame. I should at least have friends over. But I'm all, "what happens if they wake up the kids or something gets broken?" Lame responsability.

I dragged all of my siblings out to the courts tonight so I could play tennis again for the third night in a row. this is an obsession with me now, mostly because i hate being bad at something i was once good at. my family is starting to mutiny: after the first hour and a half they were all, "we're tired!" so I had to go home. I'm going to need to find a new partner shortly, and no one seems available.

I'll get you, Quarashi!

Stick em up, yeah stick em up.

Before I start getting all dreamy and stuff, lets start out with the roundup of stories/reactions since my last post, eh?

Saturday I went to Cheryl’s wedding. As I mentioned in a previous post, Cheryl was an old friend of mine a few summers ago who skipped a mission to start smoking again and now she’s shacking up with a bisexual former Catholic heroin addict ex-Muslim (don’t ask) divorce. And she asked my mom and me to come. Naturally, we dragged dad along, because we didn’t want to go to this affair without some kind of male escort. The directions took us into East Texas, which by the sprawling long grasses, run down roadside barbeque stands, and automobile scrap shops was the spitting image of southern rural white trash poverty. After going down several back streets and gravel roads, we finally reach “Colonial Circle” and followed the sharpied arrows on white cardboard to the wedding area. Cheryl decided to get married in front of her house, a low built yellow prairie style house with a few mangy trees in the yard. To the right was a chain link fence, to the left was the driveway. It had rained earlier that day, and as I stepped out of the car my sandals were enveloped in watery mud. I waded through until I found a free white plastic chair, which looked suspiciously like it had been stolen from the church’s cultural center. The kid in front of me, no more than 11, had his hair dyed red. His sister wore a Kmart sleeveless dress, her corpulent, Rubenesque, premature body squeezing out of the armholes. The veranda, “hopa” or whatever you call the platform thing the couple gets married on was a spool of ribbon that had been woven around the three trees, which would have been romantic if the garage and unclean home windows were not readily in few behind the groom and the bishop conducting the ceremony. The groom, Jerome I think, was a skinny slice of man with a red pointed goatee that made him look like a demonic colonel Sanders as he struggled to hold his skinny neck up out of his loose collar. He came over quickly to shake my hands. He held my hands gently, like a woman, limp and cold and too soft. A little farther towards the street waited Cheryl with her father. She was wearing a purple dress of cheap fabric with white shoes, her paw print tattoo clearly visible. She looked at her watch and said, “It’s about 8. Lets get started.” Then she walked in between the white chairs (I guess that was the aisle) with no music, took Jerome’s hand, and the wedding began.

It was presided over by her old bishop (the head of her ward before she dropped out to start smoking and having illegitimate babies), who actually gave a very sweet and moving speech. He talked about how, a few months after marriage, it will become apparent that the qualities you liked in your partner will become less and less apparent, and the qualities you ignored or thought weren’t significant will become significant. Marriage is rather learning to live with flaws, and recognizing that you are not perfect, your husband is not perfect, but your love is. It was weird for me though, since most Mormon marriages take place in a temple. I’ve never seen a bishop take the role of ‘clergy’ before, in the sense that he presides over a wedding. I found the whole thing rather sad. It was funny, in a way—dogs barking during the ceremony, the Kroger wedding cake, the Kmart rings—but truly sad. I’ve seen relatives more poor than Cheryl get married on less money than she had, but there was always something sacred about it that made it seem not so important. I just knew what Cheryl was giving up to marry this worthless man who would divorce her in under a year, and I knew what she could have had if she had stuck to her principles. I hope she’ll be happy.

Vignette: There’s a flaw on one of my fathers investment programs. He was talking to Smith the other day, trying to figure out where the bug was coming from, while Zack was in the room. That night, Dad and Zack are going on a walk. Zack points to the ground and shouts: “Dad! Look at that beetle!” Then quick as a flash, runs over and steps on it. “I killed the bug dad. Now your computer will be better. The bug can’t get inside it ever again.” Kids are really adorable, most of the time.

Elder Smith is officially my brother. We made up after our fight the other day and now I pat his head and take him places and smack him. He has taken Mike Aktipis’ place, only without Mike Aktipis’, errrr, complications. We played tennis with the entire family, 4 on 3, which was super fun. The only problem is that I haven’t really played in years, so my forehands a disaster, my backhand is all over the place, and my serves are always out. I dragged dad and Julia back to the courts tonight, and I will continue to drag a family member every night until I get back into something resembling a decent level of competency.


Ryan, my 7th grade love, invited me to my first ever makeout party. Too bad a) I’m no longer in love with him and b) I don’t NCMO. This invitation would have been useful 5 years ago. When I would come to church just to stare at him and hope he would notice my dark intensity and quick wit…but somehow, he never seemed to. That, or I never had it to begin with, which may be far more likely. Now its too late. I was tempted to go just to prove to my 13 year old self, “you DID get him, girl,” but then realized that would put Ryan Lauch on the same level as Russell Riggins and Mark Roberts. Those boys are both too valuable to be dragged down into Ryans’ sick, sad world of DDR and inline skating.

Tom: AfroKen: See www.nickd.org for details. And the fish/snake hybrid alluded to in #10 is a type of fish from Japan which has been slowly invading our coasts. Like West Nile, but for funner. And sorry about that thing with annamarie. Religion discussions often end badly, which is why I avoid them.

Tony: Rock on those wisdom teeth. Mom and dad won’t let me take mine out because we don’t have the money, so my front teeth are being pushed together, making them crooked.

Crooked. Shouldn’t that be pronounced crookd rather than crook-ed?

Russ: I can’t write emails back to you because my IE won’t let me log into my NU account. However, I watched the “Royal Tennenbaums” just for you and I hope that the Coop failure hasn’t hurt your capitalistic greed impulses.

Adele: Since you are gone, I can’t really comment on your situation. You are a lovely girl. I hope you are happy being the coolest waitress ever. When you get back to NU, give me your new sherm hours, so I can bother you for another year.

Anne: I am so terribly jealous that you can run away to Scotland. I would give anything to have that kind of freedom. Enjoy it. And sorry I haven’t written. Like I said, email is down. And you seem happy. I hope you are.

Jason: Work sucks. Go watch office space again.

Mark: A dollar underwater keeps on dreaming for me.

Nickd: rock that’s slivka set like a hurricane. And stay away from those biotches in the DJ booth. They just want your body.

24) Goldmember
25) Royal Tennenbaums
26) She’s All That

I went record shopping today. Purchased The Hives Veni Vedi Vicious, Death Cabs Something About Airplanes, J.E.W’s Clarity, and The White Stripes De Stilj. Mom got some Stone Roses’ album. I started listening to Death Cab, which was to me winter and spring quarter what Dashboard was to Anne. The album made me a bit sad, all in all. It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t belong to now. It belongs to then. Sweet sad, like driving in rain or meeting an old friend from high school.

Sweetness.

*sigh*

chris cancelled all of his appearances until the 24th. but, on the 26th, he is supposedly going to be playing at some club in London, and i will be on scotland for a while, so maybe...

...have realized that going back to scotland with marc = having to meet marc´s parents. bother. but everyone i have spoken to says that scotland is gorgeous and that i simply have to go. it will just be really - odd?

so - back to the usa eventually. but not this saturday, as originally planned. will probably hang around europe until the end of august.

am alive. so close to happy, but with bits of sadness licking at the edges, because the program ends tomorrow, and then all the people i have lived & studied & partied with for the past month will suddenly be gone. abruptly & forever. i was depressed for a month and half after the end of last year´s program...and i am so much closer to the people this year. separation hurts, especially when it is for forever. and then i will have to leave marc, too. and that will hurt. and then go back to the usa & start trying to mend all of the damage done while not being in the usa. not looking forward to that. would rather run away & leave everything bad behind.

sometimes being so close to happy sucks. because it never, ever lasts. and returning to so close to dying...

the shores i return to in fall spoiled before i reach them.
spoiling as this reality withers,
and i wander
through the few shards which remain.

*sigh*

This weeks top 10:
1) Vin Diesel--America's favorite racial grab bag fightes evil...on a snowboard! But will he kick it as hard as he did in "The Fast and The Furious"? Jury still out.
2) Kelly Osbourne--living the life I should be living, only 10 pounds heavier.
3) Sense Field--like Weezer, but far more earnest
4) Free Avalanches stickers at Cd World--Reminds me why I'm proud to be an American
5) Dallas Water in August--Moldy taste and general fuzziness forces the youth of North Texas back into the Stop-N-Go into the sweet, sweet arms of non-diet carbonated drinks
6) The Vines--Cute punk boys whisky gargle their way through Australian punk songs. Props to the obvious Nirvana nods
7) Much Music--The only good thing to come out of Canada
8) Island in the Sun Video--Perhaps too darling for this modest mortal coil
9) Afro-Ken--proving that nickd really needs to find something better to do with his time
10) Invading sea snakes--Welcome to the last days

i've only seen 23 movies this summer. that is sad. if we hadn't spent all that time in france learning about things, i'd be way over 100.

I've been kind of torpid ever since returning to dallas. i have almost no level of brain activity, and i spend my days either cleaning or watching endless hours of MTV. My mother and i have blossomed into complete eminem fans, having watched over 5 hours of EmTV, from "biorhythm" to "true life" to videos to a TRL episode hosted by the peroxided rapper. I know almost as much about his life as i do about anna nicole smith. i have become such a culture whore, its terrible. then today i invested 2 hours in the 2002 MTV movie awards. I'm getting one of those headaches when you've been inside in front of the TV for too long. Arg...

I tried reading some John Barth last night, got past a page and said, "this is too hard", then flopped on the bed and started cutting up magazines. I'm destined for complete and utter mental decay if i don't stop it. must start excercisaing. must drink water. must cut back on tv watching. must at least clean up my room

after hitting rock bottom some time around 3am, i succeeded in having something of an intellectual epiphany which caused me to spend most of the day driving around in the rain with the windows down blasting ozma and eminem and singing loud while sticking my hand out the window cause the glass feels like little white hot needles yo.

I am dagny taggart.
I am back.
I am law.
You are crime.

somethingsgottobreakyoudownbecausenothing
hurtslikenothingatallwhenimaginationtakescontrol
1) spy kids
2) spy kids 2
3) adams family values
4) my big fat greek wedding
5) goldmember
isawthesceneunfold.lastnight:aPolishwaiteratolive
garden.bought"thewalkmen"atcdworld.sawgoldm
ember.wenttowalmart.metsomecoolkids.tookalot
ofphotos.wenttocafebrazil.laughedtooloudly.mom
talkstoruss.today:hadbreakfastwithmom.sawsom
emovies.hadatalkwithdad.i'mtiredoftalking.idon'tmi
ndtheweatherthehardestpartisyettocome.I'mgladan
neishappy.beinghappyisgood.

...wow?

so close to happy. my friends in Hobart have had a running joke of sorts since i returned last year that the next time i went to Europe i wouldn´t come back...just disappear...into a slightly friendlier, somewhat rosier world - at least from my standpoint.

if only, but it isn´t plausible. but extending my stay until the 24th was. so - now, i can see dashboard play in berlin on the 17th. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the charge for changing my flight at the last minute like that was only 28€, too. and i can stay in my apartment until the 23rd for 12€ a night. sehr preiswert. i want to take a coach bus to St.Petersburg during that last week, after pretty much everyone else is gone, but i have a hunch i won´t...young american girls probably shouldn´t wander around russia alone.

ended up with a huge group at the hard rock cafe tuesday night. we all live in the same apartment complex, so a group of 20 or so left at the same time to take the N76 night bus back to trabrennbahn. and they all got home fine, but mark&i fell asleep on the lower level of the bus, and woke up alone in the dark, deserted bus...somewhere in lichtenrade. haha.

and i´m eating properly again...realized that food=energy=not always exhausted & sickly. duh.

yeah. so. anyway. bordering on happy sometimes. don´t mind being alive so much these days. like pizza a lot. ciao.

we'll hijack a plane
And we're never going to land
don't let me down
I'm so sick and tired of being down

Blogger only lets me publish in short sections, so here's part 2

Speaking of temple marriages (see below), I've had a bit of elder trouble recently. I'm in a bit of a turf war with Elder Smith, who's still really hurt and embarassed I wrote about him in my weblog entry. He spent most of today at my house, making snide comments and making fun of me whenever possible. My personal favorite was his nickname for me: Scratches, so dubbed because of some long, purple scars of shady origins on my back. Then, this one elder I met in France keeps writing and emailing me, plus he asked my sister when my birthday was. I give him points on perserverance. No one has ever bothered about my birthday one way or the other, but still. I really hope this does not get messy when he comes over to visit in the winter.

On the way back from the dealership, the car died. I waited with it for 30 minutes in the Dallas heat (@105 degrees) and humidity (it rained later, so it was about 90%). I was in long pants and a long sleeve shirt, and by the time mom came back, I had literal rivers of sweat running down my back and neck. Pretty picture, eh boys? It was kind of funny. I was getting all dreamy and dillusional towards the end. It was like a sauna. I pretty much was ok with the heat, but I didn't like the sweat. Sweat is bad.

I spent the rest of the day matching socks and cleaning. Like, 8 hours worth. I watched a bit about Michael Jacksons video history, which was way cool, while folding towels. I know you all desperatly want to be part of my life.

An old friend calls my mom and I today because she was $85 short and needed to get her car out of the shop. We drive down to see her. Cheryl is my age, a bit younger, with a square manish face and a granite jaw; butch haircut, several dog tattoos. The year before I started freshman year at NU she was going to go on a mission. Then she started dating a bisexual ex-Muslim and I went away to school; we faded out. An old friend calls my mom and I today because she was $85 short and needed to get her car out of the shop. We drive down to see her. Cheryl is my age, a bit younger, with a square manish face and a granite jaw; butch haircut, several dog tattoos. The year before I started freshman year at NU she was going to go on a mission. Then she started dating a bisexual ex-Muslim and I went away to school; we faded out.

I waited in the car while mom went inside to deal with the money issue. Cheryl comes out and leans over to see me inside the Porsche. "Hey Mary!" She says, waving her hand frantically at me.
"Hi Cheryl! How are you?: I reply, my voice rising a few octaves as I employee my best talking-to-a-girl-and-i'm-very-happy-about-it voice that all dallas women seem to weild with such aplomb.
"Are you free Saturday?"
"I think so, why?"
"I want you to come over and meet my husband."
"Oh....So you're married?" keep voice high, do NOT waver...
"No, I get married on Saturday."
"Oh great! Yeah, I'd love to come over. Congrat..."
"And I'm pregnant." She interupts, grinning.
(Silence.) "That's great, Cheryl. Wow. Congratulations. That's (regain voice) That's so COOL!"
"Ok, well, see you Saturday. Bye!"

The exchange hit me sort of awkwardly. I don't know. I wasn't ready for it. All I saw was someone who's wasting her life, who will be divorced in a few years (her husband does not want children), and I'm trying to be supportive. That was weird. I remember when Cheryl and I used to sit in the back of pickup trucks talking about which one of the boys in the ward we fancied the most, talked about temple marriages and all that. Jeez I feel terrible.

I've had a reoccuring dream for two nights in a row. Different times, same place. A hotel by the beach. On a cliff. Rocks down below, black, like jagged teeth in the white spit surf. I'm looking for a boy. Black hair. I've seen him before. I find him in a cafe. I'm too nervous to talk. He is supposed to leave in the afternoon. I run all over the hotel lobby and find him at the same cafe. This time I ask him to marry me. He looks at me and smiles. We run into the ocean fully clothed.

I dreamt about you once too. I couldn't find you. I looked everywhere---in the apartment building and the dorms and the hotel our parents were staying out. People kept wanting to congratulate me on graduation, but I had a paper due and I wanted to find you before I had to leave, but I never could. I ended up tripping and tearing through some thin banner, falling to death on the tiles below.

3 nights ago I became a missionary in Scotland. I don't know if that was a nightmare or a vision.

I woke up to find that I was where I have always stood. I ran, but no action was ever taken. And so someone dies, every night, reborn every day. Reborn. Hmmmm.No action taken, no birth is possible. You will be given space to breath. The distance from earth to the nearest star has enough matter to fill one testtube. Enjoy it.

I no longer expect the extraordinary. I expect death and ambivolence, the same things I expect from everyone else.

m-jones1@northwestern.edu

Please tell me that Jason did NOT write in his blog that he thought the "time Machine" was a good movie. Did we see the same film? the one with Guy Peirce? Dude, that totally sucked. Anne and Mark and I were at a loss for words, unable to heckle it. And Samantha Mumba looked part ape. *shudder*

Sorry if I have more typos than usual, but my nails have grown so long that typing has become difficult. My fingers often slip from keys. I do apologize for the inconvience.

So tonight I went out with some friends from high schoool: Bonnie, Angela, and Erin "The Flynn" Flynn, since Angela is leaving to return to BC tomorrow morning. It was really weird, in a good way. Less player hating on me than usual, which is nice. i always get the feeling around my friends from home that i'm like the group joke, the lame republican mormon virgin who's way to straight and runs with the bad girls. but they were on their best behavior tonight, and aside from calling me a pussy at my hesitancy to go fill my own drink up when the waiter didn't arrive (I did eventually) and hating on my love of Pat Buchanan, the evening ran rather smoothly.

Our waiter's name was Jace. Angela had sparkley shoes. I like things that sparkle.

Bonnie always cracks me up, because she's so much like me in a lot of ways. As far as pop culture fetishes and obsession with VH1 and MTV shows, I don't think anyone rivals Bonnie point to point. Angela's loud and mean, and Erin is a sensitive, pretty little fairy of an emo girl who is much to thin and loves anime. Her stick figures shine with light and she has probably been the single greatest contributor to my vocabulary and verbal quirks of anyone i've met. I hadn't seen erin in a long time--since the last night i saw laura--so it was nice to see her again. The three of us, minus angela--will be checking out a goth club downtown one of these upcoming thursdays. Last time she was there all erin wore was electrical tape and a pair of pants, so I'm worried I won't fit in with the decor.

Goths make me happy. I need to get moe into that subculture. With my 21 birthday coming up, I'll probably be hitting what few goth clubs chicago has to offer with great frequency. I extend, naturally, an open invitation for anyone who wants to come to join me, but based on all of your, mmmm, affection of my gothic sensabilities, I imagine I'll be travelling toute seule.

There is something about travelling with a pack of girls. I can't quite explain it. Like high school all over again. I really did love high school. I regret I didn't go out more. I was always working. As hard as I don't work now. In a lot of ways, I'd like to return to that high school mindset. I don't know if I can. It's sad to watch my friends grow up and become more 'jaded' and 'worldly.' In school, we were really rather sheltered, and now they're out in the world drinking and smoking and talking about sex and drugs and the cool things they've done while drunk. Thing's I'll never do. With the exception of sex. That I'll probably never do. There's a difference.

But the night was spent at dennys and then driving around downtown. I like driving. I like driving far away.

when I was in...

and the light dazzled my eyes as it hit the glass ground up into the concrete. I looked around and remembered it was gone.

Hello. This is a post to tell you all that I am alive. However, I am computerless. Sorry I can't offer a more intriguing reason for my long lapse.

love to all.

note: planet of the planets is playing in BINGHAMTON ny on September 14. Anyone who matters knows why this matters to me.

Anna Nicole Smith show, what the heck was that about? I find it difficult to believe that someone could seriously be that dumb. I mean, wow. like mom smoked crack dumb. I think it had to be an act; otherwise, how could she get p in the morning and pick out clothes?

Weezer+Muppets=beauty and nirvana

movies i've seen since my return to dallas:
1) Goldmember
2) Signs
3) Enough (solely for J. Lo)


so, what you're saying is, like me?

"you know me."

Liebe Freunden und Freundninnen:

So sorry for stepping down from my pedastal & acting according to my own beliefs instead of those dictated by a religion or imposed upon me by others. I apologize to those of you who feel I have let you down or become a different & worse person as a result of my electing to begin consuming alcohol & to become involved in a laid-back relationship with a male two years my junior. I do not consider either to be worthy of any significant note. I drink when I go out with friends and Marc treats me incredibly well & is a good touring companion.

If anyone else cares to send me hate mail, I request that you make it short & to the point - something akin to the following message:

"fuck. when did you get so lame? and drinking and getting with a 17
year old scottish kid? anne house. when did you turn into such a tool? where
did my respect for you go? when did you stop being someone worth caring about?"

Otherwise, I miss you guys & hope you do not choose to terminate our friendships over a bit of alcohol & some innocent kissing in front of the Berliner Dom. I am not cavorting about Berlin in a drunken stupor & engaging in casual sex with minors. And the little I am doing remains a crude substitution for dreams. The high I get from drinking never lasts, and I often catch myself a moment from addressing Marc by the wrong name.

I could have written this better, but I am late for class.

Regards,
Anne House

This week's Top 10:
1) Emo--finally makes me cry
2) Adele--lack of posting promps querry--is she alive?
3) Atari Teenage Riot and Slayer--Two bands that should never be together, and yet sound so very very right when they are
4) The Anne Nicole Smith Show--this show was greenlit, which means that someone along the way thought it was a good idea
5) Breaking Up--Apparently hard to do
6) Cupcakes--always a crowd pleaser
7) J. Lo and Ben Affleck--does anyone actually give a f---?
8) Being stalked--more fun than previously reported
9) Going back to school--Suprisingly looked forward to
10) Britney spears--Still ubiquituous!

you're not bigger than this, not better, why can't you see?

I'll declare a holiday the night that she turned me away.

And tom, props on the wendy's exaltation. I whole heartedly agree. And isn't it amazing how some restaurants like wendy's are consistently good (the spicy chicken sandwich is good regardless of borders) whereas taco bell varies wildly in accordance with regional differences. The one near my house and the one in evanston are supurb, but arizona indian reservation one, and the one in provo, not so good.

Now if you'll excuse me, i'm going to stop listening to emo and watch the Anna Nicole Smith Show. Cheers.

buttercupbunnie: mary, i have discovered that boys are dumb dumb dumb
buttercupbunnie: and we should not talk to them
AlexiaIscariot: what has lead you to this conclusion?
buttercupbunnie: the fact that ive actuallly interacted with them
buttercupbunnie: i mean, before, at hockaday, this was merely a theory
buttercupbunnie: but post-college, the theory was proven
buttercupbunnie: to be unrefutable.
AlexiaIscariot: but lesbianism isn't the answer!
buttercupbunnie: no
AlexiaIscariot: so what do we do?
buttercupbunnie: study
buttercupbunnie: a lot.
buttercupbunnie: rule the world
buttercupbunnie: complain about how stupid boys are.
buttercupbunnie: there are many options.
AlexiaIscariot: but what do we do about the making out and the sex?
buttercupbunnie: oh we can still do that
buttercupbunnie: but thats it
buttercupbunnie: no talking
buttercupbunnie: its a good time.
buttercupbunnie: i have to concur.
AlexiaIscariot: we talk to other girls, and we make out with boys, and that's it?
buttercupbunnie: yeah
buttercupbunnie: wheres the bad?
AlexiaIscariot: I'm...I'm...not seeing a bad
AlexiaIscariot: in fact, i see only good
buttercupbunnie: well there you go
buttercupbunnie: and now, to cure the common cold
AlexiaIscariot: if only there was some way to get them to worship us for our icy untouchability
buttercupbunnie: but they DO mary, they DO.

Part 7: Utah Culture!
This may take all day. more tomorrow

Part 6: Family Dynamics
In the two months I have been living with my family (exclusivly, with weird spatterings of computer updates and the odd missionary floating in and out) I have been working on bridging the gap that developed between my mom and I ever since the whole lie-about-your-relationship-for-three-months thing. And while things will never be the same with my mother, I have once again reclaimed my position as the family *starchild*. This is in part because of the antics of my sister Margaret, which are escalating out of control in recent months. She keeps calling elder smith, he keeps calling her. They're feelings are, errr, sketchy and not quite sorted out, but they talk all the time and when he comes over to the house they hole up in rooms alone together. All of this looks very suspicious and no matter how many warnings my mom gives them they don't stop. The entire ward is talking about them. I, on the other hand, don't talk to boys other than to insult them, and have been indifferent to all the boys my mother has tried to set me up on during our dates-but-not-really with various returned missionaries my age. The last one had an IQ of at least 85 and stared at my chest the whole time. How 'bout no, scott?

I'm fighting with all of my sisters because they're lazy. I don't particularly like my relatives here, who are so orthodox that they don't drink coke (fyi--byu sells nothing caffienated on the entire campus--campus stores, vending machines, everywhere) or watch G movies on Sunday. They don't really want us here, since they're sort of clannish, so they've made us stay with some lady that lives up the street whom I hardly even know. The amusing thing about the lady (Claudia) is her sons were the arch rivals of my dreaded arch rival John McKay, the Mormon guy who was so incredibly cocky and insulting that he couldn't get an LDS girl to marry him. He had to come back to Salt Lake, where of course he was engaged in a month. Still, we talked about NU and why we despised McKay (ask Anne about him. she can't stand him either).

My Grandparents are also, sadly, in town. Remember those worthers original ads with the old grandpa in the chair who lovingly gave his grandson his first buttermilk toffee? My grandparents are nothing like that. In fact they hate me. My grandpa likes me more now that I've grown my hair out, got contacts, live in Chicago and lost some weight. My grandma likes me because I've had a boyfriend, which means I'm not a lesbian. Thats not saying much, though. There was a bit of a fight this time around, since grandpa flunked his sight test but Arizona still gave him a drivers liscence. He wanted to drive back to Arizona by himself, but the family panicked and made my uncle drive them out instead. Plus, my grandfather has alzheimers, so he tells the same stories over and over. Mom still insults him, but I ignore their prescence. whatever. They'll die soon enough

Part 5: Mary's Enduring Quest for Artistic Arrogance
This is less about my trip and more about a recent epiphany I've had to become the artistically pretentious person I've always dreamed of being. I've outlined a logical step by step process for this, which is increasingly difficult since I've discovered I can't learn foreign languages.
1) Extend travels to more mediterreanean areas like Crete, Ibiza, Cypress, Greece, Portugal and Eastern Spain. Visit the ruins at Troy and Lesbos.
2) Take Botany courses. Learn to identify common plants by their names, rare plants by their latin names
3) refresh course on animal phylums for weblog name dropping
4) read more authors with z's, j's, and k's in their name. conecentrate on russian and post modern literature
5) link up designers with the houses they work for (is alexander mcqueen for gucci or givenchy?). know luxery brands
6) Polish up on modern and post modern artists. be able to identify movements like "opart" and "photorealism"
7) take up charcoal drawing again
8) refresher course on quantum mechanics
9) learn to embroider; perfect my cross stiching
10) polish up on etiquette and conversation, both of which have recently been much maligned.

I am a brat. Wh does anyone hang out with me?

Part 4: BYU Campus and the subterranean homesick aquarium
In order to justify the trip to Provo, mom took me to the BYU Campus so I could check out "the masters program." I find this unbelievably retarded; I'm torn on this issue, but not because of academics. If I went to BYU, my only purpose would be to get married. If I do not find a husband, I would have wasted two years of my life. That is the only thing to consider. But we went anyway, partly because cousin Lauren works there.

The immediate impression I got of the campus was that it is a campus parents must love and pray their children get into. Everyone was white and blonde and cleanly scrubbed. People wore jean shorts down to their knees and there were no punks in sight. and since facial hair and blue hair dye are against the dress code, everyone looks very perky and wholesome. I would not fit in here at all.

After a light glaze of the campus, I went to the BYU museum, which was utterly worthless except for a quilt exhibition (modern and traditional) and the complete collection of Chagall's biblical etchings.

I then found out the basement of the BYU tech building has a huge, delapidated amalgamation of tanks with various star fish and anenomes, the phylum of which i've forgotten. there were some sad looking fish swimming by the airconditioner tubing. plus, i stumbled across a room full of pickled octupus' and sea sponges, which was almost as cool as the dry fish market mark and i visited in Chinatown. Altogether, the campus had two good looking guy and a 4 girls to one guy ratio, making it not the most appealing institution if I want to find a husband. Which, after being bombarded with Mormon propoganda all week, I desperatly want to do. You are hit with so much pressure to get married before 21 that you lose sight of what's important. To quote The Singles Ward: "Dating is like a huge carpool, 'Oh! I want to go to the Celestial Kingdom! I want to go to the Celestial Kingdom! Hop in, it'll be fun, we can share the ride.'"

Part 3: Being Told Off For Talking Trash, pt 2.
This hasn't been a vry good week for me as far as elegance of conversation. I've been told three seperate tims by three seperate entities that my conversational abilities have been lacking recently. A good example of this would be the incident Monday night with Andrew Smith's brother, Kevin.

Now, Andrew's on a mission and lives at my house. We even share a room--he never cleans up his side of the it, by the way. But he told his brother, a freshamn at BYU, how cool my family was, so while we were staying at my cousin's (yes, another one. Only Lauren's my uncle Dan's daughter so she's cool) apartment in Provo, Kevin stopped by to see us. I was copying out the names of some postmodern artists i wanted to research, and he comes and sits down next to me and goes "cool handwriting." He's a gothy punk boy--black hair, low riding pants with the stud belt and the tight emo shirts matched with the thick leather watches. you know the types. I ignore him because I'm not really in the mood. Plus, he's all quiet and curt, and i don't have the patience for that. He starts saying something else, so I shut my book and say "what kind of music do you listen to?" I catch him off guard, so he names off some underground alternative bands I had never heard of. I just kind of nod. Picking up that I don't like him, he goes: "I'll bet you like gay-ass music like Dashboard Confessional."
"So what? Dashboard is lyrically very beautiful."
"So you're just like all the rest of those emo posers."
"At least I don't care to put on some kind of holier-than-thou emo indie rock schtick like you do" I snap back.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Are you serious?" I was getting warmed up now. All other conversations in the room had quieted down. "You come in here with the Indie rock clothes and the Indie rock attitude, name dropping a bunch of obscure socal punk bands and I'm supposed to be impressed, right? you're all image?"
He gets really flustered, then says, "I don't know what kind of a twisted, pathetic world view you have, but believe it or not, where I grew up, people just do what they want to do with no agenda behind it. Why don't you grow up?"
"This isn't California."
"Apparently." He said.

For the rest of the night whenever I said something he would snap back caustic and insulting. I do nothave a lot of experience with boys hitting me back as hard as I hit them. Usually they're just intimidated and shut up. But he kept hitting me with really mean, witty sarcsm until I actually did shut up. I was finally put in my place by an 18-year-old boy. I think I'm gonna be sick

Most of the people in Utah have on phone line, so I'm going to do this post in little installments and see how we do. If someone calls, the whole screen gets erased. and dude, that sucks.

Stories about Utah, Pt 1.: The breakdown.
So, it's 3 in the morning when we get to Northern Utah. Unbeknownst to me, i'm at the edge of an indian reservation. I do not stop for gas because there is a sketchy looking man with a cardboard sign trying to hitch a ride at the local stop n go. I drive past. 150 miles later, I am in the middle of the desert, approaching the first lights I have seen in ages. Suddenly, the car stutters and stops. I have run out of gs, 5 miles from the nearest town. we wake up the kids, and my 14 year old sister Julia gets behind the wheel while my mother and margaret and i push the car. In our flip flops. Julia hits the break several times for no reason, and we go skidding into the car, our faces smashed against te back windshield. It starts raining. we're in flipflops. there is blue lightening in the background and the sand is purple in the light and we're cold and wet. this goes on for two miles. cops come. call a tow truck. tow truck comes. our battery dies. jump. go get gas.have indian people glare at us for being where we shouldn't be. drive the rest of the way caked in orange mud

Pt 2: Relatives and wedding embarassments:
I don't know how many of you are familiar with utah weddings, but they tend to be notoriously cheak affairs. like, worse than russ at the end of a quarter. so I get to the wedding reception of my cousin, who at 32 had finally gotten a girl to marry him. This is humiliating for a mormon man. As Brigam Young once said, "If you're over 25 and unmarried, you're a menance to society." Most mormons my age are engaged. so yeah, steve's a freak. he turned down a $80,000 a year job to be a semiary teacger. $12,000 a year. Thats pretty lame. But anyway. I arrive at the wedding, and there's a TV set up so we can watch the wedding video. Cute, except the model is from 1987, with faux wood pannelling, and still dusty from the garage. Hmmmm.

I go to sit down, and the tables are fold up, the chairs have been stolen from the church's "cultural center," which means they were folding metal ones. The buffet was one of the single worst I've had in history. Sams club roles with thick slices of ham and Kraft singles sliced into triangles. Thick, dark chicken salad splashed onto soggy Costco (tm) croissants. Various jello salads spooned into greek urns (planting urns, really) lines with plastic wrap. A plastic swan full of Nacho Cheese Doritos. Mormon punch (limeade slush with sprite).

But the best part of the whole evening occured as we were sitting down at the table. There was a trampoline nearby and I told the kids they could use it. My cousin-in-law (a different one then steve's new wife. My other cousin Brian's wife) Julie told them to get off. the kids come to me and complain, so I shrug my shoulders and I said, "I can't help you. Julie is master of the trampoline and she says no." I said it really sarcastically, and before you know it I hear this voice behind me that said, "Actually, Aunt Carol told no one to use it." I tried to cover up by telling the kids who wanted to then watch a movie, "No. I'm the mastr of the TV and I say it won't happen." But Julie wasn't buying it and everyone knew I was covering so they all smirked at me. I lean over to my mom and tell her how embarassed I am and she looks at me and says loud enough for the whole table to hear, "What can you expect? You're incredibly loud and obnoxious."