I am not a doormat, and I am not a fad, and no, I am not any of those things.

Sigh. Plato wrote Gorgias for classes to read. Charcoal was invented for artists to scratch with. Roommates were invented to socialize the timid. Dating was made to make the masses agonize over small details. Flourescence was made to pull people together into small rooms with better lighting.

I wish I had a matchbook collection so I could light things on fire.

wait, maybe not?

Coin Operated Boy? No thank you.

Hey, midterms are over. For the most part I TOTALLY kicked ass. Life is pretty wonderful right now; I'm happy. I spent the whole night with Anthony last night, and went out to dinner with Kent's dad + girlfriend at a El Salvidorian restaurant in Kingston tonight. Yessss for candied plantain. Yumnish.

Woo, happiness. Not much to blog about. Nat also came over last night, we played him some REALLY good music, and he gave Christine and I a mixed cd this morning -- it's decorated! He's a sweetheart, and I really want to go to a concert with him sometime, since I missed the Decemberists in NYC. Radiohead, perhaps? Belle and Sebastian? God, everyone comes to NYC, and it's easy to get there. I'm in artistic heaven.

I'm going to cousin Judy's for Thanksgiving. She's awesome, I got a postcard from her this morning. It had a picture of a home on it. A real home! I'm going to have a home for a weekend!

I love love from people I don't know that well. It makes me optimistic about the world, and more secure in that I am a sincere and good person. Hey, it's even better to get love from people who know you really well. Same thing, except even more of an intense security. It's the best when someone likes you when they first meet you, and then keep discovering that they like you more and more. I like people more and more and more... finally! I was afraid that I'd never get to know someone at Bard who could carry on a conversation and like me at the same time. We all deserve it, don't we?

I think that the Dresden Dolls are good.

midterms

Hey. I'm up late again, Christine has been awake for 30+ hours now, we're writing papers. I had another freakout today in class, I'm just too tired to function, and I can't talk about time management to adults without crying. They all want to make charts for me, and I just want to cry. And weep and cry and weep... doing anything challenging for an extended period of time in the middle of the night makes me space out and procrastinate until 3 IN THE MORNING. It's such a bad plan. I'm going to get back to it.. I'm writing an essay about Emilia Pardo Bazan for hispanic texts. It's going so slowly.

proportionality

I am up at four in the morning
I am covered in charcoal
the damn proportions are not working
portfolio midterms are tomorrow, and this is sooo out of proportion
and I COULD do better, given another day
this really sucks.

la la lalala la...

travelled the world under your spell
cast on me in a motel
turned my rainclouds into rainbows
but i couldn't even tell

as days apart turned into weeks
my memory played hide and seek
while i was playing show 'n' tell
i took your trust and set it free

Don't fuck boys, it's bad for your soul. (Or "boys want to rape you through your clothing")

I just got back from an off campus party at a house called WallBack. We walked a looong way 'cross campus, practically dragged by Ananda and Danny, who wouldn't let us sneak away when Christine and I tried to. Everyone else consumed a beer or two on the walk, I declined yet again. I found the whole journey entertaining, a long Odyssey in search of the rumored party of the night. One walks and walks and consumes and waits for confused people to catch up, until bass beats waft through windows, and the reek of sweat and alcohol suffocates away all nearby oxygen. "Yes," they say, "perhaps we have hit home (f**k yeah)". It's so nice to be one of the party, and to be valued (if for just filling out said posse), and to have guys you like become a teensy bit buzzed yet still take care of you and try to make sure that you have a good time. They're not rapish, they just want to integrate me into their culture (ha, I talk like they're aborigines or something). However, they don't know what "having a good time" means to me.. so eventually in the learning-of-me they'll have to learn my version of the ROCKIN' SATURDAY NIGHT.

Oh, gay porn was projected on a wall at the party.. my second? time seeing gay porn. Really not very interesting. Was that guy-on-guy porn that we saw through the fence at Rose's birthday party years ago?

I studied guys tonight, how their eyes were slow and glazed, how they asked each other "HOW'S YOUR MOTHER?" sarcastically with a bit of a slurred accent. Lots of overzealous pats on the back, like they don't know their own strength. Our friends wanted us to have such a good time when we were there.. it was funny, I was taken right out of my room in cordouroys, a band shirt, suit jacket, scarf and tilted hat.. I wasn't dressed NEARLY slutty enough to show people up while losing my dignity. But s'ok, I had a wonderful time walking back in the lamplight through the wooded walkways, Christine and I were characters in our own version of Blankets. Everything is SO much more beautiful at night. The grass is greener, and the barely waning moon gave the fluffery clouds halos.

Home Once Again

Christine has returned from the land of New Jersey, and has brought avocados and other such fresh fruits with her. Yesss I'm no longer without bosom buddy to talk to, to confide in all my ramblings that come RIGHT before I go to sleep at 3 AM.

I can't believe that I actually have someone to talk with when things get rough waay over here at school. Apparently Bridget dropped out of NYU and went back home to the UofO? I wonder if I will be the only person left sticking it out on the east coast, in the long run. I miss home an AWFUL lot, and I can't remember what it feels like to hug Sven anymore, or to sleep in my own bed.

Brrrr my dorm room is freezing. Damn whoever has been messing with the cryptic hall thermostat, my fingers are seizing and freezing.

Midterms are this week.. I shouldn't be typing in my blog right now, I should be painting something before class. I need to show her something else besides the giant water heater I just finished. It's cool looking.. and that makes me feel great. I produced something! Yet I still feel a sense of doom over all the things that I haven't yet finished.. they are dragging me down into a dark cave of inadequacy and paranoia. Anthony told me at dinner two nights ago that I should go call up Conor Oberst, talking lyrics like this all the time. But no, then he changes his mind and says I should call up DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL. Now that is just insulting. Depression/worry turns my tongue into a terrible emo band.. I am so sorry, everybody.

I think it's raining outside again. It's been pouring all weekend. Right now I'm supposed to be working in the art history department, but I called in sick. I don't like my job. It's midterms week. Aargh. I can't wait to survive this and go home for winter break without ANY HOMEWORK to weigh me down.

So Christine and I are laying on our beds last night, both studying ancient history, and she stops and says "I like to learn." I reply "me too." It felt so weird to say, like I'd forgotten a long time ago. And I spend so much time resenting work and complaining I forget to like it.

Brr my room was so cold last night that I slept lightly, and was full of dreams. I was about to play a song in my dream when my alarm went off, and so I didn't get up because I needed to hear the song. Sometimes I'm violently awoken in the middle of a dream action, and it's just unacceptable.

I saw this comic two days ago where the dude said "I take in culture all the time but I never put out any." I concur.. which is why I have a blog to let other people see my art in response to life. Sometimes I'm flitting around so much, I feel like my blog doesn't have a theme. It's my first year in college, that's good enough.

We Killed Nathan

Bard IS the Whorehouse on the Hudson

So this is what I believe:

*I believe that college dances are meant to give guys hard ons and there is no other purpose to them
*I believe that I can't finish my homework, perhaps ever
*I believe that if I could get raped in NYC if I'm not careful late at night
*I believe that Carey and Drew are probably never going to write me back
*I believe that I'll go back in December, and not be able to solve any of the problems that I had in July
*I believe that having a boyfriend and hooking up with someone are two VERY different things, and I'm not going to hook up with anyone.
*I believe that my friends at other colleges are facing the same problems as I am

I know that I'm going to be lonely next weekend, because it's fall break, and everyone else gets to go home to their family and friends. 'Cept not me.