I've been staring at this box for ten minutes trying to think of something to say.

I am doing everything in my power to rip off the current (pretty) design of markrokosmos.org

I am Frylock from Aqua Teen Hunger Force!!

Which Aqua Teen Hunger Force character are you??

So Russell Riggins has firmly settled in Dallas. He lives about 10 miles from me in the 'swank' area of town, i.e. the two blocks of Dallas that have something resembling a cosmopolitan culture (oh! Magnolia Arts Cinema! Oh! Norwegian Light Fixture Store!). We helped him get settled in, took him to Marshall’s and made him by a breakfast table. He’s very sweet and very gracious about all the help my family is giving him, allowing him to settle in, and can’t get over that yes, he’s living in Dallas, yes, it’s 80 degrees in February, yes I live twenty minutes away. I took him out to meet Bonnie and Alan last night, and he was characteristically awkward and afraid of what everyone would think of him, so ended up being quiet most of the night. For ONCE I would like to have a male friend who wasn’t completely socially inept when I introduce him to friends. But at least he didn’t embarrass himself, which is largely due to the fact that Bonnie and Alan are the most friendly, the most easy going and likeable people on the face of this green earth. Bonnie introduced us to a marvelous place called the Flying Fish, which had nothing but talking bass on the wall, a large messy kitchen, free refills, and crawfish by the pound. We had a quick dinner, then drove off to Bonnie’s house (just up the road) for the season finale of Project Runway (2 hours of bliss! Congratulations Jay!) The boys liked it despite themselves, and afterwards Bonnie showed us two episodes of SeaLab 2021 (is that right? Or is it like 2020 or 2012? I don’t know). And one episode of aqua teen hunger force. I feel in love with the sheer absurdity and strangeness of the series (talking bizarro bird mutant! A Foreigner belt that harvests the power of 70’s supergroup Foreigner!) but as usual, Russ was weirded out by the inane strangeness and hated it. Or at least, was terribly confused. It’s a good thing he’s such a good man and so endearing, because otherwise I would totally smack him around.

I went wedding dress shopping with Monica last week, the drama of which is available on the MMM site. It was such an overwhelming experience trying on wedding dresses that I texted Serge after one fitting and proposed right away. Sadly, he couldn’t fly down fast enough for an elopement, so I called the whole thing off.

My boss for Mary Kay has become even more crazy since her ex-husband’s heart exploded last month. But now she’s crazy and mean, and I’m tired of her irrationality and having her try and pay me in makeup. Look girly, I’m just saving up enough to go to New Zealand. If you want to pay me $10 an hour to color in Cadillacs on your newsletters, than I will.

For the month of February I inherited one of the worst and prolongued head cold/sinus infections I ever had, which kept me trading about one day a week. Luckily this is before my trip, but still. I spend my days on the bed praying for my head to explode and release the pressure. Spring is an awful month for illness.

So my sister brings down her new boyfriend Chad for her birthday. She broke up with Smith a month ago, and has been dating Chadwick ever since. In a bizarre twist of fate, he looks exactly like my dad did at 20, only with hotter teeth and amazing lips. Together they are one of the thinnest, most beautiful couples ever. He’s so good for her and to her, I was really jealous. He reads her the scriptures every night in French (served his mission in Quebec), he takes her out to the mental hospital he visits every Sunday, and he’s just such a perfect, decent man. Likes kids, loves babies, says he values “spirituality” the most in his future companion, and has a penchant for grammar, geography, and the upright citizens brigade. She’s become such a kinder, sweeter person—he’s bringing out all her inherent sweetness. And after three weeks, they’re already sort of pre-engaged, and it looks like they’ll marry before they graduate.

Which means, of course, everyone is asking me how I feel. My sister has found the perfect man in less than a month, and here I am, 23 and unmarried. How do I feel? Oh my gosh, my aunt Carol asks as she calls my mother, is Mary going to be ok? The fact that I’m becoming the pitiable sister is much more annoying than being the single sister.

I am going to New Zealand in less than 6 days. This is unbelievable. I don’t mean that rhetorically-I’m having difficulty believing that in a week’s time I will be in Christchurch reading and planning trips to see fjords. The only foreseeable problem seems to be finances. Take for example, one place I am dying to visit—the glowworm caves of Te Anau. This is a series of caves that can only be reached by boat that are lit entirely by glowworms, much like the phosphorescent flora Elizabeth Bishop used to write about. Can I spare the $37 USD to spend 2 hours with glowworms? My instincts say yes, but then, what will Mark do for 2 hours? I know he isn’t going to pay $40 to go see iridescent insecta. So there will be much planning that needs to go on, which is a shame, since I hate planning. But it will be wonderful to see him again, and wonderful to travel to someplace new.

So I will be seeing Mark, an integral part of my everyday life 9 months ago, an almost non-existent part of my everyday life now. I say everyday because he is no longer here, no longer a character to be interacted with, though I still think about him often in those quiet times of waiting (carpool before dinner falling asleep traffic lights). What were weekly two hour phone conversations became weekly hour long phone conversations, which became bi-weekly hour long phone conversations. What were daily text messages and weekly paper and video letters slowly started to disappear. I stopped sending video letters after he started seeing another girl—it seemed too intimate a method of correspondence for an ex-girlfriend to maintain.

It will either feel very natural or incredibly awkward to see him again, though I am guessing the former. On one hand, there is a lot of resentment on my part for a variety of things he has done since June, but on the other hand, I don’t really care. I don’t need attention, though it means a lot to me, and where Mark has forgotten me, others have found me, so I don’t feel maligned or unhappy. Besides, we know each other so intimately we are family, we have a strange sort of love which is sometimes erotic, sometimes not, but which is always tender and empathetic. I think whenever we are together, that bond will make things simple and comfortable between us. Besides, I am part of the distant past, I am a woman 7 time zones away, I am no longer real, and as such, I can’t blame him for his lack of investment in such a creature.

It will be awkward to see him again in some respects, I won’t deny it. I have grown plump and tired, I have grown dumber and colder. I am happier yes, but it is the sort of happiness that is calm resignation punctuated by periods of vexation or enthusiasm. I talk less. I self-medicate my stress by watching huge amounts of TV which allow me to drift off to sleep without thinking, without interacting with reality, like alcohol or drugs. I know these things are the result of being here, and I hope they change when I get out of here. I can only hope so.

I saw Judge Posner today! His lecture was fantastic.
He has enormous, veiny hands.
I wanted to try to meet him after the talk, but he was mobbed by about 50 people asking for his autograph and I had to go back to work. He was a lot like a rock star.
I didn't have my camera.
Search "Richard Posner" on friendster for more information about him.

Lakshmi and I finished the 5/4 song. It's a rocker. We also finished one that sounds like robotic aliens. We tried to take some band pictures of ourselves. I think we looked cute and indie. Lakshmi thought we looked weird. God I love our band.

The cute french horn boy talked to me again at practice tonight.

I am fully aware of how v.junior high school it is of me to keep record on a blog of each time a cute boy I'm far too shy to do anything about speaks to me, but - -

My life is really boring right now. Nick asking me about Chicago once a week is about as exciting as my Nottingham life ever gets. Well, Nick speaking to me and my trips to the UnionShops for muffins. If I could only show-up to one of these practices drunk...the band season here finishes with a concert on the 6th of March. In three weeks, all that's been established is that I'm from Chicago and he's from Devon...and that my saxophone is really cool. At that speed, fucking would never enter the equation, even if the band season stretched straight through the summer. If I had any (proverbial) balls left, I'd get a move on and make a move and try and get some hot, skinny-boy action.

I won't, though. How terribly pathetic. I reckon I'm a decent looking girl, and he's not a particularly attractive guy...I'd have a shot, maybe.

*geez* I just need a hook-up. Anyone uncircumsized, skinny & disease-free...call me. Maybe I can place an advert in the university classifieds.

Click on over to the catatonics' myspace page to hear two recordings from the weekend. They are pretty good, but also really sad. I swear that we're writing tons of stuff that's not dirge-like.

Do me a favor
If I should waver
Be my savior
And get out the gun

Now that I’ve met you, would you object to
Never seeing each other again?



Found this taped to my door Sunday morning:

I know the scan is way small, but it's a snowman on an island in the sun with a palm tree. At the bottom it says, "perseverance" and "PS Dudes are Jerks."

That message came to me at a good time.

This weekend felt a lot like a torpedo.

Coordinating a short vacation between three people who live in different parts of the world involves a mountain of correspondance. But now that dates/times/tickets/flights are more or less nailed down - - I'm just excited!!! Too bad Sue only has $48 or something to her name, and can't come along. That's what cameras are for, I suppose. I've never been to Dublin (or Ireland, for that matter). Should be a cool weekend. :-) There's a big zoo off to the west of the city center...so that's my Saturday planned.

I have a big Rotary fancy dress dinner tomorrow night, and from what I can tell, my only role at this dinner is to sit at the head table, look hot and receive compliments from old(er) men. If only there were a non-sketch way to turn this into a career...might suit me...eating, dressing up and accepting compliments.

Actually, I reckon the closest thing to it is marrying for money/power and becoming a trophy wife of sorts. Wouldn't be a bad life...but I don't tend to take the things that OUGHT to matter to someone like me into account when I fall for people. Frankly, following one's heart generally proves impractical and implausible in the long-term. Not that impracticality and implausibility always stop me from being utterly daft and doing something because "it feels right" or some similarly shitty justification. But if they did, I'd marry myself a nice, rich, powerful old(er) European man and save myself the trouble of having to forge a path through life for myself.

But I always fancy peculiarly flawed ones...people, paths, sports: I refused to go out with my friends last night because there a big snooker match on. It was a good night in, too. And their night out was shitty. *ha*

Expedia won't less us purchase our Egypt tickets. I'm not walking there. And I don't see what they gain from refusing people's money. "Here: please take our 442 pounds in exchange for some plane tickets which you certainly paid a fraction of this amount to obtain." "No thanks." We're trying again in the morning.

I'm also *supposed* to do some prep-work for finance tomorrow. I'm not going to, as the calculations look a bit wily, and this exercise has no bearing on our course marks. At least I looked at the assignment before deciding not to do it; surely that counts for something.

I had two garlic-buttered baguettes for dinner, and *yikes* is my breath potent!! It's bothering ME it's so bad. At times like this, I *almost* wish I smoked...just to have the option of knocking out the one potent stink with another.

Lakshmi and I wrote a song in 5/4 time yesterday. After practicing it for maybe half an hour or so, we looked at each other and we're both like, "I have a headache. This is too hard." It's going to be awesome though. We're writing some crazy stuff. Sound files soon.

"Edmundson is, at bottom, a visitor from the Sixties, bedecked in fine array with a few therapeutic cliches of the brand that earns people tenure and the esteem of militant vegetarians."

Why do I keep making myself busier? And despite never being home for more than three waking hours a day, why do I still feel like I don't accomplish very much?

Bad choice(s) of the week: watching TheGrudge last night...then not getting any sleep because of hot flashes/insomnia/fear of TheGrudge...then getting up and on an empty stomach eating a bag of chili-roasted peanuts. I am so ill right now!

My hair's ended up a bit shorter than I intended. It's at an awkward shoulder-area length which takes about 12 years off the age everyone here *thinks* I am (26 or so). The last time my hair was this length, I actually was 14. I don't mind it, and it's easier to deal with than super long hair, but - - I think I'd rather look 26 than 14 at 22. Then again, my chances with the 19/20-year-old male set might be dramatically improved if I approach the field as a teenager myself. *hmm*

I'm only one or two more forms away from breaking my contract. And only a few hours away from another RonnieO'Sullivan snooker match. :D Once the chili-induced pain in my belly subsides, I think today will be a good day, so long as I ignore some of the emails in my inbox, and forget about the part-time job application which I've been putting off for the past two weeks. One of the emails is from a prospective Rotary scholar, I think...probably asking about Nottingham...writing a response to that one might actually prove extremely enjoyable...and I can count it as my good deed for the month: saving another from a cruel fate.

I need muffins. I've already read every update on RNO...bbcnews...checked blogs & sports scores...checked email...and I still have another hour to pass. I suppose I *could* bathe...but - - TheGrudge - - that movie scared the shit out of me!! And - no racism intended - it doesn't help that I live in a hall with half of EastAsia. I am never going to Japan or to China. *ever* And I'm done watching horror movies. They always scare the shit out of me...

Where my brain goes during Torts II on Wednesday nights:

40 percent: hating the professor.
20 percent: thinking about music.
10 percent: thinking about food.
30 percent: actually paying attention.

I find the demand for an RSS feed of the CM very funny.

Did I mention that The Catatonics are really really good? Yeah. We need to post some sound files so you know I'm not making it up.

BBC online has full live coverage of every single match in the SnookerMastersTournament... *awesome* I'd had no idea! I left in the middle of my four-hour lecture yesterday (officially because I was suffering from some nasty menstrual cramping, and unofficially because I was bored out of my mind, and tired of doodling & trying not to fidget)...and sat down in front of my computer & watched RonnieO'Sullivan play snooker for the next two hours. What a brilliant way to spend a late afternoon!! And Ronnie won the match. :-)

He's just cut off all of his hair (buzz-cut), but I STILL think he's really hot...maybe I find all men of dark-Irish ancestry attactive? Every time I walk into a bar or club in Britain, there's at least one guy who slightly resembles Kevin in the dark complexion, dark eyes, solidly-built, not particularly tall, black/brown hair way, and - despite the original being the spawn of satan - I always find this guy extremely attractive...apparently even if he's sporting a buzz-cut.

Rebecca & I went to an indie society music thing Monday night, and the lead singer of the last band that played also had the "man of dark-Irish origin" thing going...and a really sexy singing voice...too young, but very cute nonetheless.

Yesterday, in addition to skipping class and watching snooker online, I had a chocolate muffin and the cute, spindly French horn player talked to me again. That makes two solidly good days in a row...three if you count today's watching more snooker online and getting a proper haircut. *cool* Tomorrow I have to go to the counselling service and two classes, so tomorrow will probably be a bad day. But three good days in a row!! I'll take that...

This article is too ridiculous not to post...I need others to share in my sense of - - - frustrated bemusement(?) provoked by people who waste time and resources defending the allegedly innate right of peguins to form sexual relationships without human interference...don't these people have proper jobs to do?? With all the shit going down in Africa and the areas of Asia affected by the tsunami right now, do the sexual tendencies of a small group of penguins in a German zoo warrant protest?!?

No. And this species of peguin is about to go extinct! If the males continue only to fuck each other, there won't be any bloody peguins to protest over in a few years, and THEN what will the campaigners do with their time...

But anyway, the article's here:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/4264913.stm

This sort of thing is perfect for channelling my frustrations. Thanks, peguin-sexual-rights campaigners.

In my mind, my life is in a total freefall right now.

I'd typed more, but then I erased it. I want the *panic* in my chest to go away.

What the heck man? I really, really want to check my e-mail to get the mp3 of the song Lakshmi and I recorded yesterday. But for some reason I cannot connect to the gmail log-in page. WHYYYY? harumph.

Lets see. Outside of internet frustration, I had a fun weekend. Friday: beer and scrabble w/ Cate, really good Low show at Metro with Lakshmi. Saturday: band practice, making awesome, awesome music. Lakshmi and I recorded this sad, pretty waltz we wrote together, as we got towards the end of the song we were both ready to start crying. Partly because we're both emotional right now, partly because the song is so pretty, but at least for me, because we wrote it. Because we wrote something that we both love, that we would both listen to, and that we would want other people to hear. That is a really good feeling. Lakshmi and I work so well together, it's honestly inspiring. Anyway, that ruled. Saturday evening, went out w/ a bunch of people to celebrate Genevieve's birthday. It was cool. Dinner was good. Gen is really fun. Today: studying a lot. Contemplating taking a bus in the rain to just try to check my FREAKING mail.

oh oh oh. weeks are so long.

Oh lazy friday. Today was not the most productive. My brain is freaking spent. This was a hard week. I did all of my homework.

I just found 10GBP I didn't know I had. :-)

There are a million pains in my ass right now...most of them Nottingham related.

So yes, hello. My internet decided to break down friday, and I was only able to get it up again last night. The run-around comcast put us through was extraordinary--the perfect example of incompetence and bureaucracy. The technician showed up on sunday because we were not a business account and therefore not a priority. When he does show up its a house technician who goes up and checks the modem as if I'm a complete idiot who doesn't know a thing about them. Which I'm sure most people don't, but I did, and I told him I checked the wires personally and no signal was arriving at the modem. And he checks it anyway and announces there was no signal arriving at the modem. Suprise suprise. So then he says it must be a line problem, not a modem problem, but he isn't a line technician, so he needs to send a line technician. But he never bothers to tell the person at the headquarters to put in a call for the technician, so we call monday and they tell us they'll have someone check it that night. So we wait, and then they call us and tell us that it'll take at least a week to figure out why we're not getting a signal, but we call again and beg and say my father is losing thousands of dollars a day not being able to read cases, so they say they'll send someone out, and who should show up Tuesday but a home technician! But finally, in a stroke of luck, it turned out that the home technician had a basic knowledge of line repair, so he checked around our house and discovered a bad connector on the outside of our house. Thanks so much, comcast! way to go!

Anyway, people are retarded, I guess that's my point

I am surprised by neither the poor word choice in the headline nor the snotty attitude within the story. The question is, which annoyed me more back in my college days: The Sherman or the students of NU?

Probably the students.

My room is ice cold...makes me miss the fever a bit.

Yesterday was an uncharacteristically good day. ! I slept through my morning class, cute Simon sat next to me & talked to me in our afternoon seminar, Rebecca & I made (and ate) RiceKrispyTreats, and then I went to band practice and the cute french horn player talked to me for the first time EVER...and NOT talked as in "excuse me, you are blocking the door". And then I came home, was in bed by midnight, and managed finally to get a few hours uninterrupted sleep.

As days go, yesterday was one of the best in a good long time. Not spectacular, but - - the best days are just "good". Not dramatic, but thoroughly pleasant...hardly worthy of note, but just worthy enough to merit a bit of it.

I can make a profit of $300 if I sell my new guitar over here. Not a ton of money, no, but I've much more use for 165GBP right now than I do for an electric guitar. My dad would yell at me, but he's got more money than I do. If I buy a new guitar in the US everytime I'm home and then turn around and sell it over here, 165GBP a go would add-up. Just selling the one now, and then another in August, would cover the cost of most of my trip to Egypt.

I'm starting to pack-up my room again...very slowly, since I have another two months or so left...but I only finished unpacking toward the end of October, so I'll only have been settled here for six months, minus a month and a half which I'll have spent on trips to other places. I wonder if I'll even consciously remember much of Nottingham once I've gone.

:-D My sinuses are clearing & I think my fever's broken...and I've apologized (albeit truthfully...stupid principled upbringing making me unable to lie to my friends...but maybe things'll still be alright under the harsh glare of the TRUTH...I do feel better for having told it, even if I may have caused myself more trouble than good in the short-term by doing so)...and I had a chocolate muffin...so now I feel GREAT!! *zing*

I won't feel great tomorrow morning, when I get up at 7:30am for an extremely tedious module on StrategicHumanResourceManagement. But I feel great now...finally...maybe I'll actually get a good night's sleep. Maybe I'm fine. Then again, maybe I'm not: I appear to have spent the last two hours listening to ChristinaAguilera's Beautiful on repeat. I hadn't really noticed, but I hope none of my hallmates can hear my music.

:-/ I have to write someone an apology tonight...sure to be a thoroughly unpleasant experience...hence my having put off writing said apology for a week now. But, you can only put these things off for so long before they lose potency and cease to come off as "genuine". So, I figure I'll either do it tonight, or never do it at all. Maybe I won't. Maybe some friendships aren't worth fighting for. I don't think it's all my fault...but it was definitely some my fault, and I ought at least to apologize for the bits which are directly attributable to me.

Right before I drift off to (a restless, feverish) sleep, I always know exactly what I mean to say. But the words are always gone in the morning. I think I may just lie...blame it on something else, which conveniently coincides with a particularly bad outburst on my part...if I move the arrival of some bad news a day forward, then I can blame a significant portion of my recent bad behaviour on something totally normal...it would be a perfect justification for everything.

But I'd be lying.

Do I care? Does it matter? I don't normally mind telling lies...they're a useful tool. But lying to certain people still doesn't seem right. Not that my telling a lie now will have much negative bearing on the future as it relates to myself and this person; if anything, telling a lie now will have a notable positive effect...

I'd rather not lie about this. But the truth is so gray - -

I'm going to have to. To protect myself and to save a sinking friendship. If I let things stay as they are, the friendship may be dead. Personally, I blame it all on the gin. Only the liberal application of hard liquor can coax that sort of truth out of me. I'm usually so good about covering my ass when it matters.

Speaking of which...sort of...a few of us signed up for Tesco (a British supermarket chain) grocery delivery. A seemingly good idea, as three of us doing it together more than paid for the price of delivery with what we would have had to pay each to take the bus to & from the Tesco in the city center. But they didn't deliver my toilet paper. I'm down to my last roll, and with this cold, it isn't going to last long (I can't be bothered to purchase proper kleenex). I'd ordered 18 rolls, and not a roll appeared with the delivery. But we still got charged for it! They also neglected to deliver my eggs.

"Call Tesco about toilet paper & eggs" is on today's to-do list...but my fever is telling me to get back into bed, and that I ought not to have gone to class today or walked around in the chilly English damp without a hat or a scarf on.

I have only done two of the things on today's list. But I went to class! My semester attendance rate will be pushing 40% by the end of this week. :-D I'm not sure the two things I did count for much, either: I purchased toilet paper (1) and called some Scottish agency about special work permits (2). Now I will "email mom"...(3). And maybe apologize (4); maybe not. And call Tesco!! (5) *right* I want my 18 loo rolls!!!

This flu thing is making me even nuttier than usual...

Bizarre synchronicity: I went to the Sherman Restaurant on Sunday morning for the first time in seven months. By pure coincidence, Sunday was their last day of operation ever. The Sherman is closed forever as of today. Umm ... I probably don't have to draw the symbolic connection for you.

There is probably no way I will ever be able to repay the kindness of my lovely bandmate Lakshmi or my heroic coworker Cate. No, there probably is no way. But they both have birthdays coming up, so at least I can try.

Cold, fever, and now - - hives. My face & finger joints have just swelled up. I hope this isn't like what happened totally abruptly to my brother a few years ago. His face just puffed up, all of a sudden. The doctors said it was probably a reaction to stress...the hives were so bad, his eyes swelled shut. If I wake up tomorrow morning, and my eyes have swelled shut, I am going to be seriously displeased. I've already missed 70% of my classes this semester! I can't afford to miss many more. Granted, this is only the third week of the semester, but of ten...I need to start getting to class & signing some registers.

ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Why is my face swelling up?!? This is terrible!!! Maybe it's a reaction to dairy? Last year I stopped having dairy except for an occasional bit of cheese or cream or ice cream, but then had lots of milk & yogurt & cheese today...f'inA! But reactions to dairy mess-up your insides; they don't give you hives.

DavidBowie's SlipAway messes me up on the inside, too, as does AbsoluteBeginners, but to a lesser degree. Not as bad as yogurt & milk do, though. How I am ever going to drag myself over to a bar in Lenton to watch the SuperBowl tomorrow night? I think the group is going to have to go without me.

I have a cold AND am feverish right now. *ugh*

I went to a cool Taiwanese dinner tonight with the kids who live in Rebecca's hall. It was cool...but I already typed that.

I haven't believed in god for a long time. I still don't. But this week has given me reasons to change my mind. The people in my life are very, very kind.

*unbelieveable*

Nottingham + University of Nottingham = shittiest place in the Western world.

I need copies of Twain's TheMysteriousStranger and Maugham's TheRazor'sEdge. You'd think that the library of a major UK university would have copies of these works. Not the University of Nottingham, though!! Only a single copy of the butchered "final" version of TheMysteriousStranger is available (this version is unacceptable, as it was fashioned from three of Twain's unfinished manuscripts by an editor after Twain's death); I need a copy of the three manuscripts which were spliced together to form the "final" version. And the library simply doesn't have a copy of TheRazor'sEdge.

So I have to buy them online, as I don't suppose WHS Smith (the British equivalent of Barnes&Noble, except a fraction of the size) stocks them either...shelves of books detailing the lives of footballers and pop stars, but precious few works of note.

*grumble*

But it isn't all bad. I suppose I like both works well enough to own a copy of each...and I actually like one of my classes this semester. It's about time, really...two years of graduate school, and I'm finally in a class that I actually like. The sensation of participating in an enjoyable module was so shocking & novel that I didn't know what to do with myself afterwards.

I signed up for facebook today because i was bored and because I am nothing if not focused on trends when they're over. As I was searching for friends, it turned out the majority of the people I knew were from high school. And, since everyone in high school assumed I was a dyke, I decided that I'd have my facebook photo mock the whole butch persona I had going on. After the market closed, I dressed up and took this photo. A more perfect representation of my attitude towards facebook could not be crafted.

Oh, and happy centennial Ayn Rand! As I get older, I relate more to you as a person--that Nathanial thing sucked, sorry about that. Your books saved me as a teenager, and have inspired me as an adult. So props. It'd be ironic if there was an afterlife where you could hear me telling you happy birthday, huh?

Gavin and Jason. Chess. The cat looks on.

The scramble for plates in between the UFO scenes. the chaos!

While it's a bit abstract, you can see a bit of the stage, and the plates flying about

It's here! It's finally here!

Preparations for Plan 9

Still from rockopera "The Apple"

The geeks of b-fest, part 3

The geeks of b-fest, part 2

The geeks of b-fest, part 1

Ariel attacks my camera!

Watching Monty Python

Smelled like beer

The new Metra station under the Prudential building

A scene from Gavin Johnson's play, "Little Red Riding Hood"

It's way too late to be this locked inside ourselves.
The trouble is, you're in love with someone else.
It should be me.

Theron is right. This weblog doesn't update in forever, and then we all converge for pages and pages of blubbering. Today is no different. While I'm feeling better now that I'm out of Chicago, I still feel pretty lackluster, so vomiting ensues!

Yes, Anne, Tom from Keane has an excellent voice--he sounded album perfect, but with emotion and variations that kept it from being boring. It was one of the best concerts I've seen in a while. He's also thinner/hotter in person than he is in his videos. And the lead singer for the Zutons was also very cute in a Liverpool way. Cheers all around!

After b-fest, Mary and Gavin took Allie to Olive Mountain, where we met up with Jason "the Konik" Konik and his friend Jordan. I was so stuffed with brownies I could barely eat, but I had some good mediterreanean chicken soup. Konik was in his winter hirsute mode, and he has managed to get even more liberal than the last time I had seen him, but we all managed to eat relatively peacefully. Jason asked after Mark, and I responded vaguely, giving bits and pieces of his new life. I shrugged off questions as to what "we were", because who knew? who ever knew? And then Jason told me something that made me feel wonderful. He said that back in the CM days, people didn't talk about the two of us. I always assumed they did, that people didn't approve, but truth be told, people understood that what we had was important to us, and never talked about it. That was lovely. Then Jason drove downtown with GavinMary and I, where we played chess, talked, and played guitar like a bunch of hippies. Seriously, it was the best, despite the hippiness. I showed the group my favorite dance number from Kaho Na Ho, but only Mary South was able to appreciate the majesty that is Shah Ruhk Kahn's dancing.

Sunday was lazy and delicious. Gavin made all of us breakfast (cottage cheese and cheddar eggs! and they were good!), and Mary showed me an edited version of "Like Water for Chocolate", which of course I loved, though not as much as "Babbette's Feast". Then I passed out on the couch in the sun with some pretzels and the cats curled up under my arms. Around 3, I left to go up and hang out with Allie and her posse. We went out to Sbarro's in Norris, and I felt a little empty. Saw Nick's girlfriend, stopped by and said hi, though she looked a little weirded out that I was talking to her, which I attribute to shyness rather than dislike, though who knows--I can get vexing. Then Allie went back to study for a midterm, and I met up with Lakshmi to catch up on life since our summer archeology adventure. She was living in my ideal arrangement-a studio with a matress, an amp, and a desk, no furniture, nothing on the wall, nada. It was so rock n'roll! We went to JK Sweets, which had installed some kind of newfangled display window, proper table clothes, and a more jovial attitude in the proprieter. Lakshmi was effortless, and of course that's the key-it was like I was living in evanston and we were having ice cream some evening. Evanston is so frightening in the winter. Man was not meant to live in areas where he must dig out every morning for survival.

Went back to Allie's, watched "Kaho Naa...Pyaar Hai" which starred the delicious Hrithik Roshasn. I know my Bollywood level has reached critical mass when I can spell out the name's of actors and movies without having to look them up. Kaho Naa was filmed, interestingly enough, in Christchurch New Zealand-the place that I'm going to be visiting next month. I slept on a couch in the hallway suite, with boys waundering in and out and peering at me. I had one of the best night sleeps I had in month. Unrelated to the boys.

We make time to try to find somebody else
This place is mine, Now seasoned with hate

The next day, Allie and I had breakfast at Einstein's and spent most of the time reminiscing about strange adventures during my senior year. She said my Dillo Day party was awesome, and everyone was charmed by drunken Mark, while consequently everyone feared drunken tom. We also talked about the trip to Salt Lake, and the possibility of Margaret and I planning a Casa Bonita II trip. Allie dropped me off in her dorm and headed off to class/work, so I spent the whole day watching "Wet Hot American Summer", Eddie Izzard stand up, and inspired by Hrithik, looked up things to do in Christchurch. Sadly, there is no Indian club there like the film promised. Around 7, I went over to meet Russ at Giordano's for dinner. Chicago is cold. I hate the cold. But somehow, the cold made me more nostalgic, because it was the most consistant aspect of my time there. Russ tells me he has accepted a job with American Airlines and is moving to Dallas. I find this bizarre, though I am happy for him. This means that Russ Riggins is going to be hanging out with Bonnie, Alan, Monica and Me. Russ Riggins is going to be coming over for Sunday dinner. Russ Riggins is going to watch Patriot games with my friends and go to the Inwood for random movies. How weird is that? Worlds collide! Russ drops me off as he has to go to a meeting (he still does school meetings and he's been out of school for a month!) I watched Lifetime and curled up for a while, then just as I'm drifting off russ comes pounding in, flipping on lights, then flopping on the bed, then spent half the night tossing and turning next to me, turning the TV on, whatever. And then boom, my alarm, three hours later. Russ was not happy to take me to the airport, but he has learned, as many have, its always good to be in my debt about something. And I definitely owe him one. Here's to you, Russell!

Today I went to see my Korean grandmother. My mom has befriended this strange, tiny little Korean woman in our neighborhood, and I dropped by to visit her, not wanting to trade today (greenspand announced interest rate spike--market lame). She was the littlest thing, coming up to a bit above my navel. She makes my mom call her Korean Mother (she speaks a little english), and I must call her Korean grandmother. She asks mom who I am, and mom replies "My oldest", to which the KG grabs me, and says "noo! She so pretty! So beautiful! Your daughter! So pretty pretty pretty!" I was struck that the reason we shouldn't euthanize is to keep old people around to tell us wonderful things. And also, like babies, old people have cute mechanisms that keep them from being destroyed despite their nuicances. KG was a putterer--she putters around the kitchen on her little legs and looks for things for us to eat. Jello cups, pretzels, fruit, cookies, whatever she could find. When I said no to everything, she wouldn't stop until I accepted fruit. Then she sits down to her breakfast of a bluberry muffin, which she cut up with her chopsticks, then offered me a sliver. I passed, and as punishment, I had to practice my chopstick technique with a pair of silver chopsticks. She also tried to teach me some korean words, but I have no gift for Korean. After she ripped on the Japanese, she showed us some pictures of her family. I just wish my own grandparents were so lovely.

I've just discovered that I'm not broke...I have a good nest egg sitting in US accounts...and I'm not sure I want to spend it on more school. I've done the school thing. I am tired of the school thing. Who needs three master's degrees anyway?! It's not at all abnormal anymore to have two (seriously; plenty of people on my present course already have a master's degree in something else)...but I don't need the third. And I think I'm eligible to go into the FreshTalentInitiative in Scotland based upon the degree I just got, since it was in 2005.

I'm having a complete early-life-breakdown right now. Being in my twenties SUCKS!!

Regretful it's the time of year for letting go
Scared of the feeling of you coming home

Hitting shuffle on the iPod is like walking into a bar where the jukebox is loaded up with all your favorite CDs. And you don't have to put money in. People just keep walking up, feeding it dollars and playing your favorite songs. Every single time a new song starts, you're surprised and pleased. What an amazing little machine.

I think Theron & I have similar drunk personalities. I had a load of gin (the devil's juice) Sunday night, and got in such a state that, for a good hour, I was planning on going home and killing myself. wtf?!? Fortunately, instead of going home and ingesting a load of pills and more alcohol, I just sat in a club and sobbed for the hour, until the drunkenness had dissipated to the point that the urge to commit suicide had sufficiently subsided, but - -

*yikes* The thing is, I've been feeling content with my life lately...and doing really well. But I suppose being content & "doing really well" in Nottingham where my life is simple & completely free of drama is completely different from being content and "doing really well" in general.

I was glad to get back to Nottingham Monday night...I'd missed everyone from last year, and I love Edinburgh, but I'm not last year's Edinburgh person anymore, and the Nottingham person that I have to be in this environment isn't a good fit with last year's people & scene.

I need a break, I think. I need to go somewhere new, and alone, and just - - think, or not think - - for a month or two.

My dad has been downsized again. I wonder if my father's bad luck over the past two-odd years is karmically related to Mark? When I have been in association with Mark, bad things have happened to my father. He lost his job the last time I was hanging out with Mark; I came home, and my father suddenly got a great new job, the day that his contract with the old firm expired; time passes, Mark & I are no longer in association, and everything goes well for my father; then, I start associating with Mark again; my father's mother suddenly has cancer, which doesn't improve with radiation therapy; later in the summer, two new sets of tumors are discovered in her back and stomach; her cancers get worse, and her doctor decides to put her on chemo to try and squeeze an extra year of life out of her; then she dies on my dad's birthday; he loses his good job a few weeks later.

I meant to go and speak with the business school "welfare officer" today, but I woke up late. We need to have a discussion about antidepressants, I think. Just for the short-term. I have to make it through four more months here. And...I'd rather they were four level-headed months than four fucked-up ones. I don't like Nottingham, not England, not the city, not the university, certainly NOT English culture, and there isn't a good enough social safety net here to make it sensible to stay longer than I absolutely have to. By the end of May, I'll have finished my second semester, done most of my dissertation, and completed my Rotary responsibilities.

And thus be free to leave.

All I have to do is break my housing contract...which can usually only be accomplished if you lose a family member, become horribly ill, have a family member become horribly ill, are being physically threatened by others in housing, or if you can prove that your mental stability is threatened by your staying. Fortunately, my mental stability IS threatened by my staying...anywhere in England! But particularly on the UniversityofNottingham JubileeCampus.

A month in Egypt, a month at home, then a month in Europe, totally alone.

And then back to Edinburgh. I'll essentially be doing the same thing(s) I did before I went to Edinburgh for a master's the first time.

I was hanging out with Mark last Thursday (before learning that my father had been downsized again)...and we were out having dinner, and I went upstairs to use the toilet, and when I came back, he was on the phone (always on the phone...you'd think he were a financier for how often that little black phone is glued to his ear). So I sit down and get back to eating, and he looks up and says "my mom wants to talk to you". So I had a little chat with Rhona...who then says "wait a moment - Alister wants to talk you". So I had a little chat with his dad...and then I asked if they'd like me to put Mark back on the line, and they said "no" and hung-up.

That fucked with my head. Rhona was all "you need to come out and visit us!!" But...I can't. Thanks for twisting the knife, though.

I can't handle life with these sorts of feelings. I'm not equipped for it. I can handle any kind of academic stress and family stress and friend stress and job stress and moving stress and money stress...but I can't handle having feelings. I can't handle memories. I build thick steel walls between phases of my life, and don't tend to cross them once they're built. There are doors, for things like visiting my family once or twice a year, or emailing or visiting old friends, or going back for graduation. But generally, I like to turn my back on things once they've passed. I need to. And unfortunately, there are certain memories and experiences that I simply cannot be reminded of, and which cannot be revisited or reclaimed once the walls are erected around them. No doors. Certain phases are totally sealed off for a reason.

I was a terrible person Sunday night. A person I hate. A person I'm running from. I stopped (more or less...generally less when I'm in Edinburgh) drinking for a reason. And I'm always in the process of moving somewhere new and starting a new life for a reason. Running from forces which I cannot control, but which can control me, if they catch me. And I feel as if I'm about to be lapped in Nottingham...I'm afraid that I'm about to be lapped. I feel most comfortable when I am on the move...in an airport, on a train, in a car late at night. I only feel secure when I am moving, and as soon as I set down anywhere, I can feel myself being caught up to.

So I'm going to ask for some help to get through the end of May. And then start running again.

Oh, morning without warning like a hole / and I watch you go .

I have a million things to say.