Gina just wrote an email to a group of our friends and said "we" without specifying to whom she was referring.
We are so gay.
We're like a married couple. We go to Home Depot together to paint our bathroom, walk around with our hairy legs, shop for our cats.
I really would like to make out with a man right now to reassert my heterosexuality. Any takers? Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:30 PM | shower me with attention
I don't understand why M*A*S*H isn't on right now. I'm afraid to look at the FX schedule and find out. Luckily I have to go to school now anyway.
If this is a permanent schedule change, I will be losing it. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:33 PM | shower me with attention
The cool thing about being a grownup is, no one comes in and says, "Tavie, why are you sitting here at four in the morning eating raw rhubarb and watching Primal Fear on tv?" I can chew rhubarb and watch Primal Fear until the cows come home.
By the by, Primal Fear is a stupid name for this movie. It's a stupid name for any movie, really, but especially this one. Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:04 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, September 29, 2002
I have my computer back, plus one repaired ethernet port and one nasty-looking, still-broken, too-expensive-to-repair LCD screen. The mushroom is somehow gone, but there are black smudges and streaks all over the upper righthand corner, and several nasty-looking threads running up and across the entire thing. I suppose I will get used to this in time, until someday I manage to earn $750. Will I ever get a frickin' job? Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:16 PM | shower me with attention
I think this picture typifies my relationship with my sister. She has obviously taken something that belongs to me, and is gloating about it as I reach angrily for it. See how she basks in the sun as I brood in the shadow. Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:41 PM | shower me with attention
Possible causes of my frequent headaches:
Caffeine addiction and subsequent withdrawal between pots.
Almost constant high, tight ponytail worn during summertime.
Eye problems.
Stress.
Brain tumour.
Unborn twin... triplet?... growing inside my skull.
Posession by demonic spirits.
What to do:
Cut down on caffeine.
No more high ponytails.
Get eyes examined.
Learn some stress management techniques (meditation, deep breathing, talk therapy.)
Get CAT scan to check for tumour and/or parts of unborn sibling.
Get an excorcist in here, and this time I'm serious.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:26 AM | shower me with attention
Saturday, September 28, 2002
Hardly anyone thinks I'm weird. I have to start wearing my underwear on the outside of my clothes. Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:57 PM | shower me with attention
The "good" video store does not have M*A*S*H seasons one and two DVDs to rent, causing me to have to rethink the whole "good" part of the apellation I have bestowed up on it. Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:43 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:36 PM | shower me with attention
Someone fall in love with me, please. Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:46 AM | shower me with attention
Gina and I just watched four or five episodes of M*A*S*H and damned if we don't fully intend, after we have completed our household chores, to go into the city tomorrow specifically to see if we can rent the first two seasons on DVD at the good video store.
Gina also plans, after watching an episode entitled "Adam's Ribs", to call up a barbecue place in her native Kansas City and see if they'll send her some ribs, like Hawkeye did in aforementioned episode.
This obsession has spiraled completely out of control. It is now in the realm of sheer and utter lunacy of the kind that requires strong therapy and medications of various types. I can't wait to see where it takes me next. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:40 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, September 27, 2002
My faith in the internet has been restored. All anyone can talk about re: last night's ER was the fact that there are no lemurs in the Congo, only in Madagascar. Go, nerd, go! Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:58 PM | shower me with attention
Hawkeye: I'm in love with Frank Burns.
Psychiatrist: Major Burns?
Hawkeye: Frank.
But it's the look Hawkeye gave, the look, before he said "Frank". You should be watching this with me. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:21 PM | shower me with attention
Thursday, September 26, 2002
I wish I had something interesting to say. Really, I do. I got nothing. Had a job interview today. It was okay. It rained a lot, all day, making everything wet. I hate autograph lines. I love organic milk. I finished sock number one of pair number two. The season premiere of ER certainly was gory.
Not an interesting item in the bunch. Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:29 PM | shower me with attention
Yesterday was my dad's last day at work. Today is his first day home as a retired person. He is sitting there eating cereal and watching, swear to god, Ally McBeal.
Wonder how long this is going to take to turn us all insane. Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:39 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, September 25, 2002
Mom: A lot of people aren't vaccinated for smallpox today. I am, and you probably are, Fred...
Dad: I am.
Me: I'm not!
Dad: You should get it, then.
Me: I SHOULD GET SMALLPOX?!
Dammit. Why aren't the conversations around here funnier? I'm grasping at straws. Stupid, boring conversations.
Job interview for ___ University Press tomorrow. Good luck to me. I hate job interviews. They make me have to pee a lot. They make me very fidgety. Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:45 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, September 24, 2002
Someone on the Newsradio newsgroup keeps posting under the alias "Dave Foley's anus" things like "Oh Tavie when will you stuff me with your massive dick?"
Perception of gender is such a funny thing, isn't it? Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:42 PM | shower me with attention
I am currently in the library at school, ostensibly to take out Ibsen's Wild Duck to read for class tomorrow, but really because I do not wish to return home. I could call erin and sarah, or Erica, or Terry, or someone, right? But I can't because I only have a dollar and I don't wish to force them to walk around doing nothing with me.
But at least I can complain about it. Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:36 PM | shower me with attention
Below should read "stagnate in mine", but the typo works better. Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:34 PM | shower me with attention
I am restless, like a turtle whose caregiver doesn't take him out of his tank often enough so that he becomes infuriated by his surroundings and takes to wrestling with his food tray and astroturf. I am imposing upon my turtle the life I am currently forced to lead, which is abuse, plain and simple. Why don't I take him out and let him run around more? Why must he be forced to stagnate in his cage simply because I am forced to stagnate in mind?
I am unstimulated and unsatisfied.
Poor Progo. Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:34 PM | shower me with attention
I have nothing whatsoever to say.
"Hello, Mr French Pastry. I have nothing whatsoever to say to you. I trust you have nothing to say to me..."
"WATSON!!!" Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:30 PM | shower me with attention
Monday, September 23, 2002
Nothing new to report. Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:22 PM | shower me with attention
Mr Show at the magical Town Hall tonight. It was incredible. Everything I dreamed it would be. They did my favourite all-time Mr Show sketch, the sketch that turned me onto the show in the first place. A dream-come-true-garage-door-opener-silly, it was. Sweet Tara bought me a Globo-Chem mug, because she is very naughty and very wonderful and she likes to give people presents they don't deserve. And we saw lots of friendsthere, and celebrizities such as Lady Janeane of Garofalo and sir Ira of Kaplan.
It is very hot and sweaty in the city.
Earlier in the day we saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and, shut up, I loved it. I didn't expect to, but I did. It was the sexy John Corbett wot done it, guv'nah. And also Andrea Martin. The only thing I truly disliked was the Mirror Has Two Faces Syndrome (a.k.a. the Grease Syndrome and the Princess Diaries syndrome, wherein the main character has to completely change her appearance to find happiness. Fuck that shit. What, people with frizzy hair don't deserve love?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:49 AM | shower me with attention
Sunday, September 22, 2002
I don't know if it's worth noting here, but I am noting nonetheless, that since my dream, I am different. I'm a changed person. And I have a lot of questions about death, and belief, and a newfound respect for and confusion about the concept of organized religion in general, my history with it personally, how it fits into my uncertain future, and what I am to do with the problem of my lack of concrete belief in an afterlife and yet my newfound terror at the idea of eternal nothingness.
Just thought I'd put that word in. And, I guess, request that, like my questions about "smartness", if anyone has anything to say about their beliefs about death/thereafter and how they attained them that they think I might find at all helpful in this time of doubt, I'd love to hear them.
And, yes, all partly because I miss my cat terribly.
Ahhh. Nothing like a good M*A*S*H marathon and a little existential angst to make a weekend! Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:27 AM | shower me with attention
Tomorrow: home by afternoon to go with family to celebrate Dad's birthday (late). That night: Mr Show with G Diddy and T-Lo. Then to bed.
Yes, that clown is definitely going to have to go. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:33 AM | shower me with attention
I feel like I've been through a war. I just watched the last episode of M*A*S*H and as the tears are drying on my cheeks, I would like to take the time to thank Tara, who came all the way from Maryland this weekend just to have me force her to sit through more than 11 hours of this show. And she stuck it out 'til the end. She's quite a trooper.
I salute her most sincerely.
I can't believe Hawkeye and Hotlips kissed. Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:03 AM | shower me with attention
FATHER MULCAHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.... Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:01 AM | shower me with attention
Saturday, September 21, 2002
Everyone has to read Goose's rhapsody on milkshakes. It brought a tear of mingled pride and envy to my eye. (No worries: the pride was for the lass, the envy for either her well-documented-in-this-forum gift of prose-that-makes-me-want-to-kill-myself-because-it-is-so-good or because she got to drink a milkshake and sometimesImisssugar.) My girl works fast.
(Still watching M*A*S*H marathon, but I've seen this one a couple times.) Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:09 PM | shower me with attention
Can't talk. Watching M*A*S*H marathon. Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:43 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, September 20, 2002
The big news of the day: Mint Manor has a Mr Coffee! After long last, years of wishing and hoping, it took the impending visit of Gina's parents to get her to purchase one. Which makes sense, seeing as she's not a coffee-drinker. But now caffeine addicts such as myself can reap the benefits of her filial piety.
Also: I've started a second pair of socks. I know you're thrilled.
Finally: a shout-out to my thoughtfulsister, who not only lent me $80 yesterday and brought me a salad for lunch, but lugged my heavy computer to an Airborne Express dropoff location while wearing extremely painful shoes. Word up. Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:21 PM | shower me with attention
It's sick, but I'm completely addicted to this Newsradio Trivia channel on dalnet.
Art class better tonight. He spoke to me, complimented my sense of proportion (hah!), style, line quality and "sense of movement". That's more like it. Still didn't get to post a sketch at the end of class, because I was out of the room making a photocopy when he asked everyone to put a drawing up. Once again no one noticed. I wonder if I can go a whole semester without ever posting anything.
Got another job interview next week. So much for me not working and being in school at the same time.
And, finally, back at Mint Manor. That's definitely more like it.
(Who's read A Confederacy of Dunces? I came across it on my mom's bookshelf and am seriously considering dropping everything I'm currently reading, schoolwork included, to have a go at it.) Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:21 AM | shower me with attention
Thursday, September 19, 2002
Happy Djin day, to a dear friend whom I've known online for many years. Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:07 AM | shower me with attention
I really hate using my sister's computer. I find the keyboard annoying. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:38 AM | shower me with attention
Rather than read on and on and on and on about the Iroquois at the time of initial European colonial contact, I have taken a fancy to trim my black winter coat with miscellaneous buttons, like a mummer. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:18 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, September 18, 2002
Procrastination is the rule once again. I was supposed to get a book of artwork-- preferably drawings-- from "an artist whose work I wish to emulate and use as an inspiration for the rest of the semester". I'm such a lazy cuss; I thought we'd have plenty of such books in my home.
Luckily I scrounged up a book of Andrew Wyeth sketches. Works for me. It's a book and it's got drawings in it. What more can they ask of me.
I hope he doesn't ask me to explain why I picked this particular artist. "It was the first book of drawings I could find laying around the house" doesn't sound too good. Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:20 PM | shower me with attention
Job interview today went well. Should hear back next week.
I'm sweeeeeeeeeeeaty.
That's all. Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:44 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Hmm. I use the word "really" too much. Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:19 PM | shower me with attention
I am a follower. I loved reading Serra's and Nicole's lists so much. I didn't think I would enjoy reading so many facts about someone else, but they were both really interesting. So I made my own. It was really fun:
1. My sister and I were born 2 months premature. She weighed 3 lbs 2 oz, I weighed 3 lbs 14 ozs. I have always been the heavy one.
2. I have been to one baseball game in my life, with my church, when I was 10. It was Mets vs. Yankees. I don't remember who won.
3. My father is Jewish and my mother is agnostic. I was Lutheran until I was 11.
4. I am an agnostic.
5. I have a long-hair fetish. My goal has been hair I can sit on since I read Judy Blume's Blubber at age 7.
6. I have attained that goal.
7. I have gone on the internet almost every day since March 1993.
8. Eight is my favourite number because of the meaning of my name.
9. I am a synaesthete; I taste words.
10. "Octavia" tastes like scrambled eggs.
11. I hated scrambled eggs when I was little and now I like them.
12. Kofi Annan used to live in my building.
13. Al Lewis lives in my building.
14. Everyone calls him "Grandpa".
15. I've never known either of my grandfathers.
16. I really, really want a dog. I've never had one.
17. I have a turtle and a cat.
18. It still hurts to say "a cat" instead of "two cats".
19. When I was little I desperately wanted a long-eared, floppy-eared, black rabbit named Shadrach.
20. I've never had stitches or broken a bone.
21. Except my little toes, which don't count. But I got to wear slippers to school.
22. I was on honour roll every year until high school.
23. I consider myself to have peaked at age 7.
24. From age 4 to age 10 I took violin lessons. I can't play the violin.
25. From age 5 to age 11 I took piano lessons. I can't play the piano.
26. Sometimes I like to play with my violin and my piano anyway.
27. When I was younger I was sure I would be a Disney animator when I grew up.
28. I know almost nothing about animation.
29. I've been to Disney World 22 times.
30. EPCOT is my favourite place in the whole world.
31. I have been on two dates in my life: one when I was eight with my friend Adam, and once last year, which I didn't know was a date until after.
32. According to TheSpark.com I am 99% undateable.
33. I am the only person in my family who doesn't adore Shakespeare.
34. I used to be very proud of the fact that I was the best student in grade school from kindergarten until fifth grade. Now I find that pride very saddening.
35. I am horribly afraid of tree sloths.
36. I used to think my dad was a wizard.
37. My dad's favourite ice cream is mint chocolate chip. I still associate wizards with mint chocolate chip ice cream.
38. My favourite colour is yellow because when I was very little we had a yellow-and-white bath towel that I loved.
39. I wanna be a Care Bear.
40. I didn't get drunk until I was 20 years old.
41. I have almost no sense of smell.
42. I am missing a molar that I never got around to replacing. It broke on a crunchy Chinese noodle and was wrenched out by my friendly dentist.
43. The Kids in the Hall have had a bigger influence on my life than all of high school and most of grade school put together.
44. I can't roll my r's.
45. I said the word "shit" until I was three years old because no one had bothered to teach me baby euphemisms for excrement until then.
46. I wish I could be a singin', dancin' Broadway star, but I haven't the skills.
47. I walk around singing showtunes all the time, anyway.
48. In grade 3 I was in the group of kids who weren't allowed to write in cursive yet.
49. I used to know all the books of the Bible in order; now I only know the New Testament.
50. I find Jesus Christ incredibly sexy.
51. I have to look up words in the dictionary a lot.
52. I do my crosswords in ink, too.
53. I'm a snob about this fact, even though I often mess up and have to write over letters.
54. The last time I threw up was when I drank a great quantity of gin alone in my home one night last year.
55. The time before that was food poisoning in Australia in 1998.
56. Before that I hadn't thrown up in eleven years.
57. My middle toes are longer than the rest of my toes.
58. Once, in the Bahamas, a monkey sat in my lap for 10 minutes. It was really cute.
59. When I was in eighth grade my friend Amy and I wrote a skit for Social Studies class that was picked to be performed at a show in a theatre called "Symphony Space". The laughter one of my lines got is one of my all-time favourite moments in life.
60. The actress who played "Tavie" had very short hair and this displeased me.
61. When my sixth grade class was in the audience of "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?", I was the only one who didn't get up and dance at the end.
62. I can't dance.
63. I used to like Genesis, during the "I Can't Dance" era.
64. I am widely considered to have highly impressionable taste in music. This makes me popular with people who wish to mold me to their own tastes.
65. I am very malleable.
66. I am much more popular online than I ever was in real life.
67. I think I have pretty feet.
68. If I ever write a book, it will be called Novembodentity, after a word I dreamed in junior high.
69. I've had many flying dreams. I love them and wish I could have them on purpose.
70. I hate most roller coasters.
71. A famous and respected singer-songwriter once wrote a song for me. It was released under a different name but I will always know it to be The Song Formerly Known as "Tavie".
72. I care too much about what others think.
73. My mother taught me to read when I was three. It was the best thing she ever gave me.
74. My family is very small; it consists of five or six people total, including extended family.
75. I used to be obsessed with pie-throwing, steel-tipped boots and the movie Newsies. I'm over them now.
76. I used to find beards creepy but lately I've been finding them attractive.
77. I hated "Star Trek" until my friend Ade forced me to watch an episode of The Next Generation. Now I am an avid and unapologetic TNG fan.
78. I find "Star Wars" boring.
79. My dad is a big geek who used to attend science fiction conventions regularly.
80. I am wary of conventions and most science fiction fans, but I love geeks.
81. Despite being born and raised in Brooklyn and Manhattan, I have been told I have no New York accent.
82. Neither do my parents, both b-and-b NY'ers.
83. I can belch on cue.
84. I think I'm attracted to gay men because they're unattainable.
85. I need therapy.
86. I hate Martin Short with a passion you could not begin to imagine.
87. Yet I loved Clifford, a truly awful movie.
88. I have been on five different antidepressants since I was 10.
89. I didn't watch M*A*S*H until spring of 2002, when I became obsessed, although my mother insists she made us watch it at 11 p.m. nightly as babies so that we'd be too tired to wake her up at 5:30 in the morning.
90. I am a Canadiophile.
91. I don't know that much about Canada.
92. When I was 7 I took gymnastics class and was quite good at the uneven bars.
93. When we were 6 my sister and I took jazz-and-tap lessons which culminated in a pageant where we all danced to Eddie Murphy's "Party All the Time". We all had to wear pink sequins, including my friend Adam.
94. Adam and I got married every day when we were 5.
95. I can't remember how to multiply fractions.
96. I used to be very, very afraid of Steve Martin.
97. In grade 8 I used to come home from school every day and drink large quantities of water while watching Barney and Friends. I do not know why I did this.
98. I'm bad in an emergency.
99. My first woman crush was on Isabella Rossellini, because she looked like Dave Foley in drag.
100. I never tasted canned peas until I met my friend Gina. Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:18 PM | shower me with attention
Oh, please, God, take more: it's not enough you got my uncle, my cat, my ring, my little loves, my computer and possibly the best-friend-foursome I've had for 18 years: please, by all means, take away 3 out of 4 of my nightly M*A*S*H reruns so I have no way to take my mind off the other things you've stolen.
How I hate you. Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:11 AM | shower me with attention
And my dad is 65 today. A senior citizen by any scale. Someday he, too, will die.
My mood is as black as the mushroom on my screen. Are there any philanthropists out there masquerading as computer repairmen? Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:58 AM | shower me with attention
When I thought it couldn't get any worse... now the LCD screen is broken. Yes. Broken. Big ugly black mushroom-shaped tear in the screen. Apple won't repair this under warranty. The cost of repair is much more than we can afford. So even when it comes back with a nice, fixed ethernet port, there will still be a big black mushroom on the screen and I'll just have to live with it.
I am extremely upset. It's just one thing after another after another. I don't know what's going to happen next. It's just crap upon crap upon more crap. Things are falling apart. The seams are unravelling. My sanity is shrivelling.
Shit fuck piss cocksucker.
And last night I dreamed that a former friend of my mother's was a doctor who diagnosed me with an incurable illness and told me I would have to be put to sleep. It was the same malady that killed my Rosie, and I had it, and I was terrified of death. The prospect of death was very, very real in the dream and I spent my last moments trying to contact my friends and tell them I would soon be euthanized. I woke up realizing that I am, indeed, grateful to be alive and afraid of the possibility of death. I could never entertain the thought of suicide because I want to live. Believe it or not, this was a monumental realization for me. I'm afraid of death. Oh, great. Just one more thing to worry about: someday I will die. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:55 AM | shower me with attention
Monday, September 16, 2002
They're sending me a box to pack my sweet little iBook in, and send it off somewhere to get the ethernet port fixed. They'll send it back in about a week.
Sniffle. Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:18 PM | shower me with attention
My motherfucking ethernet port is broken. I'm on Kirsten's computer right now.
I'm pissed. Why are you in Tavie's head? 5:07 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, September 15, 2002
I don't know how many of you have been in a position to notice, but lately-- in the last year or two, I guess-- I've realized that I hate talking on the phone, and avoid it a much as possible. I'm rarely in the mood to be talking on the phone. I usually will, anyway, if it's someone I love talking to or it's an important matter or something, but, generally speaking, for the most part, when I'm on the phone with someone, I'm looking for a way to end the conversation so I can be off the phone.
I think I feel similarly about IMs, because I rarely initiate a conversation (although, again, sometimes I am in the mood) and don't like long IM chats.
So, I don't know what that is. I like talking in person. I like talking on the phone sometimes. I like email. I just don't know what's going on with me and the communication thing. Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:47 PM | shower me with attention
I'm pretty into this song, "Waltz #2", by Elliot Smith, that my friend Robert sent me awhile back. I just rediscovered it. It's quite a haunting little number.
K and I met Erica and Steph at the Seaport today and had lunch. Talky-talky-talky.
"This is nice, Dave, you and me, talky-talky-talky..."
"Yeah but you know I'm not going to remember any of this tomorrow."
"Yeah me neither." Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:43 PM | shower me with attention
You've got your Duckies and you've got your Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. There's something about the guy who doesn't get the girl. Or does he? I can't remember how this movie ends.
It's very warm in here. I think there's something wrong with the air conditioning. I would give my life's blood right now-- my actual blood, I'd slice right into my arm here-- to have something interesting to say right now, or something interesting to do, or something interesting to think. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:42 AM | shower me with attention
Remind me that I want to watch the Alan Alda biography tomorrow at 7 and the Andy Dick thing immediately after.
Because tv is the only thing in my life right now. Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:04 AM | shower me with attention
Saturday, September 14, 2002
Ugh. Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:31 PM | shower me with attention
Last night I read that in Iroquois tradition, dreams are the expression of your soul's desire and once interpreted, must be fulfilled or else you will get sick.
Then I dreamed that Scott Thompson and I were out in a rainstorm, waiting for my mother to get out of the A&P, and playing with a monkey that was my sister's new pet. The monkey bit me. Scott asked me to be his personal assistant and I balked and then reluctantly accepted.
Then I was in Prague checking out Sarah C's new digs. She lived in a castle with a lot of other girls. Elton John was performing in the common room, to three screaming fans and a lot of indifferent students.
This must be properly interpreted, else my soul will sicken. Heh heh heh. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:02 PM | shower me with attention
Dinner with Steph, Kirsten and Andrew at South Street Seaport. Andrew's sleeping over; we're watching G*U*E*S*S W*H*A*T.
It feels wrong, not knitting something now. Must get that fun stripey sock yarn and start on pair numero dos.
My life is boring. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:14 AM | shower me with attention
Friday, September 13, 2002
My last two posts have been play-by-plays of old Late Night with Conan O'Brien reruns.
Um. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:46 PM | shower me with attention
Rerun of Conan. Allison Janney just said, "My friend Octavia had to do that..." and my ears perked up. I wonder what her friend Octavia had to do. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:45 PM | shower me with attention
Jeff Goldblum is on Conan talking about plastic surgery and he just said, "You know what else Hollywood people do..." as if he, himself, were not a Hollywood person. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:24 AM | shower me with attention
There was a mishap involving a glass of Guiness, a bottle of Diet Coke, a thirsty father and a mistaken identity, but it's not that interesting so I won't describe it. Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:55 AM | shower me with attention
I hope drawing class gets more fun. It was so great last time. I had a good rapport with everyone from the first day, including the instructors. This one is smaller, and mostly girls-- no cute guys, buh-hoo, buh-hoo-- and the teacher is quiet and sort of reserved. He took a moment to give us a tip about drawing the human buttocks (each class will consist of us attempting to draw a nude model in a series of poses, standard stuff) and he actually had a little trouble finding the right euphemism to use. So he'd go, "When you're drawing the, uh, the, uh, butt..." or "So remember when attempting the, er, uh, the rear end..." and I was the only one giggling at his clumsiness! So I guess I'm the immature one.
No one talks while we're drawing, which is okay, I guess-- but no one really talks while we're not drawing, either. Last time I got to be sort of class clown, you know, and I love that. There doesn't seem to be any bantering whatsoever now. Just business. Dull business. Draw, draw, draw.
None of which would be so bad except that in a class of 18 people, I'm the 3rd or 4th worst drawer in the class. I was too ashamed to put up a sketch at the end-- no one noticed-- but I took note of ability and noted that only 3 of the posted drawings were inferior when compared to my own abilities. Everyone else is pretty damned good. So, yeah. That sucks for me.
But it was only the second class. Maybe it'll shape up. And maybe I'll actually learn to, you know, draw. If the teacher ever opens his mouth. He didn't have a thing to say to me. I miss Professor Swain. He used to yell at me all the time. That means they think you're talented. Why are you in Tavie's head? 12:20 AM | shower me with attention
Thursday, September 12, 2002
My mom did a little academic survey for me and discovered that after this semester, I'm only 2 courses short of having all of my anthro credits for an anthro major, and all but one art course for a studio art minor. I also need one more social science, one more humanities, a math course, and a science course (computer science, baby!). The monkey on my back is language: I need 12 language credits, of which I have none.
Still. Still... I may graduate within this lifetime.
Oh, lord, a language, a language. Oh lordy lordy lordy. I hate languages. I'm terrible at languages. And it will take four semesters for me to get them all, unless I do something called Language Intensive, which sounds horrifyingly difficult. And what language would I take? Most people go by their high school history. That doesn't help me at all. I don't have a goddamn high school history. It was:
Third grade - fifth grade: Spanish. Ancient history. I can't remember a single thing I learned when I was eight. Oh: la cucaracha, la cucaracha... something something something something...
Sixth grade - eighth grade: French. Don't remember hardly a thing, and I'm terrified of pronouncing it in public.
Ninth - half of tenth grade: Latin. First year was easy, second year was hard. Easy to pronounce but useless in life. And the idea of intensive Latin makes my brain shrivel.
Shit shit shit shit shit.
Maybe I should take Japanese. My sister could do all my homework for me, and apparently the one teacher our school employs is a very sweet old lady.
Oh, kill me. Why are you in Tavie's head? 9:18 PM | shower me with attention
I'll be damned if I ain't wearing the prettiest, yellowest, comfiest, most satisfying pair of socks I ever did wear.
And I made them my own self. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:45 AM | shower me with attention
My technique has always been Self-Preservative Avoidance. I am an expert at it. I can very quickly be completely numb. I can turn emotion on and off like a tap. Mostly.
I've been going along with sort of a weary resignation. In my haht of hahts I believe I wished for today to pass without much overt acknowledgement. I wish it was possible to have one collective, centralized, exclusive Moment of Silence sort of deal, but that otherwise for today to be like any other day. (When I say "today" I mean "yesterday" according to the clock.) I thought of all the people who have been trying to spend the past year forgetting about it-- and I'm only basing this on my own limited experience of grief and my mental avoidance techniques-- don't think about the loved one gone, just watch a lot of M*A*S*H (or Kids in the Hall or The Wizard of Oz or whatever)-- and how they'd be forced, maybe outside of their will, to Think and Reflect and Dwell and all that stuff. But I recognized that not everyone chooses Avoidance and that it would be just as unfair to impose my Avoidance on others.
So, what I did today: I got up around 2 pm, as I have been doing lately. I got dressed. I surfed the internet and ate a very ripe peach, and the omelet my sister made me. I put Lost in Space in a discman and went to school. I did the crossword puzzle through Modern Theatre and passed notes back and forth with Terrence. I went to Sociolinguistics and suffered through two hours of that. Did more of the crossword and got away with a little covert Village Voice leafing. Then I exited the premises.
I walked past the Armory and all of the soldiers in combat uniform, complete with helmets. It was very, very windy out.
I got on the subway. I got off on Roosevelt Island. I walked home. On the way home I called Ade and had a chat with her. Outside of my apartment building there was a large, noisy congregation of people with candles singing along to the loud singing of whoever it was who had the microphone. I felt nothing at this display but irritation at having to fight through the crowd to get into my building. I tried to feel guilt at feeling irritation, but it did not come.
I came upstairs and ate Chinese food-- bbq'ed meats and bok choi-- with my parents, and watched Bringing up Baby. I surfed the internet some more. I watched David Letterman. David Letterman made me feel something akin to emotional reflection and remorse. When he said, "Let's take a moment and say a silent prayer to those who lost loved ones a year ago", I actually did such. This felt natural. I feel that Letterman did a service to us a year ago and I felt he was handling things properly tonight.
That brings me about up to date. I'm now watching M*A*S*H. I hope Gina is okay. I just saw that she left a message on my phone, which I neglected to take off of "silent" mode after class today. I hope she was okay and just calling to say hi. Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:23 AM | shower me with attention
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
You're probably not looking for this, but just in case you are. Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:08 PM | shower me with attention
I dropped a bottle of pineapple liquor and it shattered on the floor all sticky on the floor.
My head hurts like a caffeine headache and the tea doesn't help but if I have coffee I'm afraid I won't sleep in time to get up and get to Pearl Paints before 2 so I can make it to my class by 4 and I need to get a job don't I but I don't want to that guy called about a job but I didn't call him back oh well and my dad is retiring tomorrow and in a week he'll be 65 and I haven't read any of my sociolinguistics chapters but I don't think I really need to and I hope Professor Whatsherface ends on time tomorrow because I only have five minutes to get from Modern Theatre to Sociolinguistics and I don't want to end up in the sunny seat again because it will give me a headache speaking of headaches this isn't helping my current one so I'll go read this play in the other room at least this play seems to have some sex in it sex is always vaguely interesting. Why are you in Tavie's head? 2:49 AM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
1. Vanessa Williams should be shot.
2. They sanitized it. They kiddified it. They stupid-fied it. They added stupid lyrics and took away good lyrics.
3. The. Acting. SUCKED.
4. Except for Jack's Mother, who was the cool old lady from Fuddy Meers*, and Cinderella's Stepmother was pretty good, and Jack was passable but too squeaky, and Cinderella was okay, too.
5. No chemistry at ALL between the Baker and his Wife. My favourite song ruined due to their lack of chemistry.
6. A minor point, but to NOT harmonize the line "Like father like son"? Mistake.
7. I tried to get into a childlike mood-- easy for me, easy-- but I just couldn't. Not comparing it to the 1987 production proved too Herculean a task for a weakling such as I.
8. Did I mention how Vanessa Williams should be shot? Or at least, you know, given some sort of acting lessons. Something. She was so wooden, and she covered up her woodenness with unnecessary shrieking. So much shrieking. Shrieking is not acting.
9. *Speaking of Fuddy Meers, I recall having a nice moment at Fuddy Meers wherein my friends and I were exiting said play, Fall 1999, and ran into Miss Danielle Ferland, who originated the role of Little Red Riding Hood and did a MUCH better job of it. So that's some sort of circle, there.
10. But, on an up note, when Milky White took off his cow head for his bow, I said to my sister, "Hey, he looks like the cute guy from that production of Godspell I saw with Gina" ( for her birthday a couple years ago), and I looked in the Playbill, and it was one Chad Kimball, who, yes, yes-- was the cute guy from that production of Godspell. Which was really cool. He was the guy who I found the cutest in the entire cast, he sang "We Beseech Thee", and at the end he was trying to get audience members to dance on stage but I Don't Do That, and he looked disappointed but then he got Gina up there to dance with him. So, yay, he was Milky White. Why are you in Tavie's head? 11:41 PM | shower me with attention
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