Friday, May 16, 2003 Uh-oh.
Uh-OH. We're in trouble
something come along gonna burst our bubble
I use the coupled "we" here. What burst in this case, was not a "bubble" but a "radiator" in "The Big Car That Eats Money". Oh, they told me so. My entire family got as close to holding a car-purchasing intervention as they could without being in the same state. "It'll run great," they cackled, "'til you get sodomized on parts." Seriously, my mother said that. OK, no. But something close, and did I listen? Nope.
So far, The Big Car That Eats Money has eaten 800 dollars this week, which means that the little moths are leaving my wallet. They object to my poverty, and also to my personal odor, and one of them heard a rumor that there was a porchlight on across town. I hate them, because they are traitors.
If anyone would like to send me money, you will notice that I do not have a pay-pal button. This is because I've been lazy. If you have any ingots, precious gems, or giant novelty checks to send my way, e-mail me, and I will specify a location in which they should be deposited. It will probably be a hollow tree, but I am not sure what kind yet. I'm thinking sweetgum or maple. Not pine. That's a poor man's tree, pine.
In other news
I had to sit in the school gym with my peers and rehearse graduation today. Our handlers' alphabetical order policies mean that I am not sitting with Lesch or Wong, as I had hoped. Instead, I am sitting with boys. I don't know. That's just a little weird. I mean, I'm going to try to gossip and talk shit with them, just as I normally would, but I don't think they get it.
Like, we got "free" water bottles with our caps and gowns today. "That sure was worth four years of tuition, huh?" I said heartily to one of my row-mates. "No," he said.
It's going to be a long bloody Sunday. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/16/2003 05:01:00 PM
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Thursday, May 15, 2003 Free kittens forever
Ahem Dear readers, both of you, if you live on the East Coast and need a kitten, I know where there's a never ending supply. (Note: this offer is not open to the Beacon Hill Cat Woman. Die, Bitch.) My friend J.'s mutant power is that he attracts cats. It's Spring, so there's kitten upon kittens showing up upon his West Philadelphia doorstep. This is a problem. The household has one cat already, and it is felicidal towards other kitties. Like, really.
I would take all the cats, except that would be exceedingly fucking cruel to them. Kitties are not famous for enjoying long car rides, and for the summer, at least, after we work and save up a little, that's what's up. It makes me so mad and wistful, because I always want all the kitties. I never get all the kitties I want.
Unless I win The Money. Then I'm starting a cat shelter. maybe. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/15/2003 02:37:00 PM
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Wednesday, May 14, 2003 pants
So far, in the time since I've been officially done with classes, books, teachers' dirty looks, and so on I've pretty much done fuck-all. There was the dog and baby trip, but other than that I've been doing things like sleeping and reading and watching T.V. Cowabunga, Surf Girls. I hate you all.
Mainly, though, I've been trying to make sure that I look my best for graduation. Generally, I don't do things like comb my hair, much less select the most flattering shade of toenail polish. I'm often spattered in mud or food.
Now, though, I've started the kind of vigorous and half-assed self improvement campaign that I used to embark on as a child. "OK, I have to lose ten pounds and also get breasts before I go to summer camp next week." Summer camp ruled my life, because it was one of my only chances to interact with other kids my age. *ahem* Mom and Dad, I'm looking at you. I'm looking at you judgmentally.
Anyway, now that I'm around my peers, and kind of horrified by them, on at least a weekly basis, I haven't had an occasion to go all out on vanity for a while. But hoo doggies, am I going to be hot for graduation.
I bought tooth whitener. I've been faithfully painting my mouth with it for a week and a hlaf now, and I swear that terra-cotta sheen has faded to a gentle saffron.
My main dillemma now is what to wear. I was at a certain over-priced mall the other day, where the eight year olds have way better shoes than I do, and I saw The World's Prettiest Pants . They are light blue, with palm trees and vaguely islamic-looking stars embroidered over them, and while that may sound hideous, they have to be seen to be believed. I'm in a bind, though, because while their "dry-clean only" tag may provide my mother a tirade so convenient that she won't notice my plan to live in my car, it's pretty foolish to buy expensive pants when one plans to live in my car. Still, I feel like these pants have power. Maybe a famous Hollywood producer will see me, or better yet, Ms. Linda Hamilton (who is going to be my class's commencement speaker for some reason), and I will be discovered.
So really, what is my dillemma, after all? Pants like this sell themselves, no?
Well, I'm just not sure if they'll clash with my gown.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/14/2003 05:46:00 PM
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Tuesday, May 13, 2003 I meet with things new born
The mate's friend had her baby last week, the day before we were reasonably able to get to upstate New York to see the birthin'. Luckily, she and her mate are hippies, and saved the placenta, and the birthin' tub, so even though the baby seemed to be a fine specimen of babyhood and had his own appeal, the whole process stil seems gross and weird, and I am scared straight on the topic of having children once again. I wasn'titching for kids before, you understand, but this just reinforced it: not for a loooong freakin' time.
The visit did make me really want a dog though, because the hippies had three of them. Two of them were dalmations, which made it much, much funnier when they fought and chewed one another. Spotted dogs! What a country!
I'd heard all kinds of hype about how bad dalmations are, but these dogs seemed generally doggy and good to me.
Unfortunately, a life of irresponsibility and living in the car seems like a terrible thing to subject a doggy to, so we're just going to have to find a free house in a warm climate.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/13/2003 03:42:00 PM
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Wednesday, May 07, 2003 A mystery. Please help.
While I recently said goodbye to the room in Delaware, the kind landlord, his speddy but sweet kid, and Millie, the best dog in the world, I had to go out there to take care of some business yesterday. Specifically, I had to give the man some money for a car to replace the one I ruined a few weeks ago.
On the way back, I got a little mushy, because, as I've said before, it's a nice drive, full of neat country sights such as ponies. One of my favorite non-pony sights along the drive, though, is by far the abandoned gas station just over the Delaware line on 301.
Besides having the same sad lure that boarded-up, decaying old buildings always do, it had "Keep out Stephen" spray-painted on its boards. The specificity there kept my mind whirring for lots of my total commuting hours.
I got the car, and drove it proudly back to my college's town. This morning, I went down to Virginia to register it, only to find that every DMV in the state is closed on Wednesday. I bitched about it to another nice lady in a station wagon, but to get back here and finish up some final papers.
On the way, right before the Bay Bridge, there was a small traffic slow down, right by the hated Lying Exit of No Gas which has plagued me in my various cars many times over the years. You'd think I'd learn, but each time, I think, "Surely there must be gas. This brand new sign says there was. They can't mean the decrepit old out of business station you can see from the road."
They do. As I slowed further to shake my fist at it, I noticed something. In the same handwriting, but in a different color of paint, was "Keep out Stephen"!
If this is some kind of code for those "in the know" about abandonded gas stations, I want to know about it.
The potential scenarios here are mind-boggling.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/07/2003 02:10:00 PM
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Tuesday, May 06, 2003 I meet the press
The press seemed a lot like a couple of dudes, one middle aged, bearded, and cheery, one younger, moist-looking, and holding a camera. They were on-campus this afternoon to ask whoever showed up to the junket all about the writing culture of the school. Wong and I told the press about the time our friend, the Unnamed Graduate home-brewed some beer in the basement, and the resultant explosion sent her to the emergency room.
The press seemed pleased.
Sometimes, other people got more attention than I did, and that made me unhappy, so I waved my arms and squawked until the press looked at me again. I think there will probably be a lot of unflattering pictures of me with my mouth agape in mid squawk, arms flailing, and it's better I than one of the less important people be recorded on film.
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/06/2003 03:58:00 AM
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Saturday, May 03, 2003 I dislike most of my kind
This has been a huge problem in the past. I think I've bitched about it before, but it's a pretty deep well of bile I've got, and I think I'll go ahead and draw from it again.
I think I should clarify some things. I don't think I'm a particualrly great, brilliant, or saintly person. My brain feels like the strings of pumpkin innards left in a week-old jack-o-lantern right now. I blame thesis-lag, my poor upbringing, and several other issues I will get to in due time. I am shallow, and sometimes, on the basis of their looks alone, I decide that I am never, ever going to talk to a given person if I can possibly help it. I am naturally a poor dresser, and even with the mate to serve as a fashion consultant, I've only risen from the "special olympics" to the "hotter than usual homeless" category. I have lame tattoos and damaged hair. I throw hissyfits when the world does not conform to my standards.
But Jesus! Maybe I'm just mean and shit, but I strongly dislike other English majors. It's not just at my own dear school, and there are numerous exceptions. I've also strongly disliked people from many other fields (I'm looking at you, Drama Department). I dislike teh English majors who think that watching movies and talking about them is the same as reading books and talking about them because "you use the same methodology". I dislike the English majors who assume right off the fucking bat that Shakespeare was a bad, bad guy who wrote plays for the purpose of punishing women. I dislike the poor fashion sense among the aforementioned constituency. I dislike those who keep saying things like, "Writing can't be taught," yet persist in taking writing classes and wasting my time. I dislike those who blatantly mine person tragedy for the sympathy vote. I do a lot of disliking. I wish Harlan Ellison would come and help me dislike. I wish I could skip all my obligations 'til graduation and go to top-quality amusement parks and get a job as a professional kitten cuddler. I wish many things. Now it is time for dinner. Samosas ahoy! posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/03/2003 07:51:00 PM
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Thursday, May 01, 2003 Eat me, James Frey
I just turned in my thesis, and boy are my arms tired. I'm positively dizzy.
Right before that, Wong and I went to strip my personal items from the wreckage of my car.
Today is naked day on campus. If you're greasy and ugly and gross, this is the day for you! Take it off! posted by Frenzy Lohan | 5/01/2003 10:47:00 AM
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