Pink Rose To The Rescue

Well, the "Thesis Hives" are clearing up at last, now that the rough draft is in; no, seriously, I broke out in hives I was so stressed this weekend. But it got done, as I knew it would, and now on to CompLit. It's a little daunting that it's due so soon, but whatever, I've got to get on with it. The end of school is frighteningly close, but I'm not in the mood to think about it right now.

Today, I took some completely frivolous time for myself, went to the gym to clear out my head and take a break from reading, and then went off to glassblowing as soon as class was over. That went pretty badly, which was so completely frustrating because up until about halfway through it was perfect. I mean, perfect. Oh well, shit happens.

I was in a pretty shitty mood after that, and decided that a slice of barbecue chicken from SoHo was in order. Back to the studio to clean up my stuff, and then, feeling super-indulgent, further south to Pink Rose. White chocolate raspberry cheesecake called to me longingly from the display case, so I gave in. As the girl at the counter rang me up, guessing correctly from my sweatshirt and jeans that I wasn't there to loiter, she asked me if I went to Haverford. It's always surprising when people identify with the Reds. She asked me if I liked it, and it took me a second to respond. I believe my answer was something like "eh, yeah...it's good to get out into the city sometimes." My wry grin was matched with an equally knowing smile, and that made my night. She wished me luck, and I gave her a tip, spreading happiness everywhere. Sort of.

If I were feeling a little more altruistic and hadn't just spent $80 on glass color, I would have picked up a slice for my slightly in need of cheesecake roommate and one more for the boy, in celebration of 5 months (scary! I know, time flies), but alas my credit card is feeling the weight of my aesthetic addiction. I'm a horrible selfish person, I know...but damn that cheesecake was good.

So now I'm back, I'm tired, and I've got to read some more Woolf (that, surprisingly, I am enjoying). That's the scoop on me.

Schizophrenia

And I thought it was my roommate who was writing her thesis on mental disorders...I'd like to find the person who told me it would be a good idea to double major, and shoot them. I've been switching academic gears within the discipline of literary analysis so much in the past 5 days that I'm having trouble thinking straight. Today, in my CompLit prestentation, I replied to my professor (who is German, btw) in the affirmative "si", therefore satisfying either of the Spanish or Italian texts that I'm working with, but unfortunately not comprehensible in either of the languages that he speaks.

I'm splitting myself in so many directions that I just want to curl up into a ball and stay warm (not unlike I did last night, after a very frustrating 4 hours of Borges). This morning, I got up all energized and belligerent to work on the Spanish, was working well until my mindless mechanical break at the Athletic office [during which, not only did I sustain a 1/10 ratio of papercuts to envelopes stuffed and folded on a 300+ mailing, but was informed that the CHC recruiter guy called Wendy THIS MORNING, before I had remembered to email her to let her know that they wanted to talk to my soccer references. shit. I SWEAR, I'm not always this irresponsible], after which I had to switch gears to CompLit for an almost frustrating hour lunch with Sedley, formulate and present coherent thoughts for class, which energized me and made me belligerently defend my points, only to arrive at home having to finish my Spanish rough draft which is due today. Did I also mention that I wrote 17 pages this weekend for English?

Plus, in a fit of sublime irony, the mailing that was slicing through the delicate dry skin of my fingertips had to be folded along the line Please respond to me by Friday April 16th, conveniently the Spanish deadline.
Friday April 16th
[slice, stuff... ow! slice again]
Friday April 16th.
for 4 hours.

But I should quit my bitching, because I get to go blow glass tomorrow, and the world isn't *actually* coming to an end, although sometimes it may seem like that.

I am a young woman of many contradictions

Most garishly illustrated by my current attire: red sweatpants and a pastel mint EHOS t-shirt, the sorts of contradictions that I generally try to avoid. An old teacher of mine once told me that, and I took it as a compliment. I still do, although it often confounds people who don't know me very well.

Random Aside: Nutella was on sale 2 for 1 at Genuardi's today...imagine, if you will, the strength of will necessary for me not to buy more to add to the collection. Oh, you will.

Anyway, the same teacher who found my charming personality an oxymoron has been instrumental (I believe) in facilitating the phonecall I just received today from the HR guy at Cape Henry, telling be obliquely that they want me to teach there next year. In light of the veritable SCANDAL of resignations that have happened in the past week, I'm highly dubious that I'd want to be teaching there next year, but the possibility of saving an assload of money by living at home is quite encouraging. I might even be able to fund my own jaunt to Barcelona next summer instead of asking for it for graduation. That's hot.

I'm feeling very conflicted towards the Cape as of late, and not sure what to do about that, if anything.

But enough of that. Today has been a day which showcased my rather ecclectic (to use the dreaded buzzword) personality:

1. after work I picked up a gi-normous package from 95 Howe Street, thouroughly perplexed at what my crazy sister sent me. I love my crazy sister. The contents of said container were a thesis survival kit assembled of different random objects, all of which pertained in some way to me. The box included, and this is by no means an all inclusive list

-a clove of garlic
-the newest issue of Cosmo
-the nasty eyeshadow that we both got in our stocking at Christmas
-a magic 8 ball ("whose use increases dramatically with the addition of alcohol")
-peppermint patties
-a grocery shopping list
-pictures of exotic...greens i.e. kale, napa cabbage

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, my sister has put me in a box.

2. As I left the grocery store (without the Nutella, sadly enough), I felt a little surge of pride for my little Fiametta, as I have dubbed the van, passing by one of her flakier, rustier siblings. It happens every time I see one of the 1989-1995 Dodge Caravans with defective primer. I *can* be an artsy person sometimes, although it's often half-assed.

3. When I got home, I finished writing a paper about communist montage cinema, read the first three chapters of the ridiculously formulaic Norah Roberts romance novel that I got Alex for Christmas, which she thoughfully re-gifted to me today (as I hoped she would eventually, hee hee), ate some sushi for dinner after a quick workout, and then plan on writing a paper on Freud and Frankenstein.

Sometimes I really love my life =). Now if only that translated into a *job* for next year...

"Ah, springtime, when young men's fancy turns to..."

A collection of (uncharacteristically) happybubblyspringtime thoughts.

1. I wore fishnets today to class (beige colored, to be sure, but I still got some stares) in protest of the mundaneness of Mondays everywhere, which made me immensely happy.

2. over the course of our TFA discussions I have recently apprehended that Rob Schiff attended "Lick-Wilmerding" high school in San Francisco [cf. post from September 11, 2003], which made me laugh. A lot. Puts a whole new spin on things.

3. Suburban Pennsylvania drivers are maniacs, manifested in strange roadsigns which say
Beware of Agressive Drivers
Slow Down, Save a Life

4. While running on the nature trail yesterday (which was quite squishy in parts), I passed some marshy areas, and could not remember the word "swamp." Interestingly enough, the only thing I could think of was "fango" (which is Spanish), for a general abstract mushy ground, and "salt marsh" for the concrete image I had in my head of the only familiar swampy ground that I know. Interesting.

5. Had a great Saturday night, including substantive conversation with roomie, which made me exceedingly happy. We hadn't just sat around and talked about books and writing for ages; reminded me of the ol' days in 35, sigh [nostalgia?]

6. I [heart] purple buttons.

I'm going to spruce up my new/old jacket with the results of my button-quest this weekend, work on my bryn mawr film paper, and contemplate the uncanny just a little bit more. Is it wrong that I kind of like Freud sometimes?

I should know myself better

I've been back from Spring Break for a week now, and even though I always profess to be so self-sufficient and stoic, my little introverted heart sometimes needs to be reminded that "yes, people do indeed like you. You are not abnormal. Well, you may be abnormal, but some people still like you."

It's a Saturday, culturally stereotyped as a "social day" but as of late I haven't really been psyched to the sorts of social activities available to me at present. I've also been a little ticked at Haverford for not welcoming me back with open arms (teachers and students alike), and have felt a little on the periphery of my ordinarily peripheral social network. [Note subtle use of present perfect tense...]

Today, I unexpectedly [and clearly due to the Spanish earrings with magical powers] reopened the lines of communication with several good people whom I miss. Ran into Marni outside the library on a glorious sunny afternoon; finally sent an email to Sarah so we could make plans; received a concerned IM regarding an ambiguously irked away message. When I put it up I suppose I was, a little consciously, asking for someone to pay attention to my semi-turbulent state of mind, stressed about thesis and not excited about spending Sat. night working on it for two unrelated reasons. 1. I have no other plans, and 2. because my thesis stresses me out. I'm worried that it might not make sense, that the connections don't go together, and that my advisor(s) don't 'get' what I'm trying to say. That and well, PoMo LitCrit is tough [postmodern literary criticism, for the uninitiated, or non-pretentious. I am neither, lately].

I knew that I needed some attention, and yes, in that whiny "look at me! I've got so much work to do!" kind of way, so sue me. I knew that I needed some time out by myself, so I took it. Made myself a dinner worthy of more than sweaty workout clothes and my desk as a dining surface, but hey, it still tastes the same. The creamy fontal cheese from the farmers' market and sharp parmesan melted over my pasta in my first ever Sauce Mornay, a triumph, if I do say so myself, of rich white goodness and just the right tang. Then to prove, no it's NOT just about color, a nice dark glass of merlot to accompany and ground the richness with "overtones of berry and an earthy feel" or some crap like that. Whatever it was, it sure as hell made my night, and I feel a little more ready to dive back into my writing project.

That, with my new buttons for my thrift store jacket to replace the gold anchors [ick], makes Saturday a success, no matter how the rest of my night goes =)

Meteorological and Metaphorical Strangeness

I saw my first Mr. Robin Redbreast yesterday, just when I'd resigned myself to the fact that snow and ice really are pretty, even if they mess with my conceptions of the 'proper' seasons. As my ornithological parents have taught me, the appearance of my small fat feathered friend means that spring is on its way. I can't take all these mixed signals.

Speaking of mixed signals...no, not really; I don't know where I was going with that.

The winter weather continues, and I was informed that we're to expect 3-6 more inches tonight, in full violation of the first day of spring. Oh well. Maybe I'll actually get my ass out and play in the snow this time, and forget about my burgeoning writing assignments.

We're also starting 'La Casa de Bernarda Alba' in tutorials, and I'm afraid that the kids won't like it. I mean, it's funny and insulting, and absolutely riddled with excessive metaphors, but trying to get that across might be beyond my powers of teaching. We'll see how things go.

Speaking of teaching...just over 3 weeks till the TFA letters are mailed. Shit, that's soon. That also means that my thesis (one of them) is due the next week. Scary. Rachael finished hers today, and I felt a little spark of sympathetic release for her, but still am quite aware of the work that I've still got left.

I've also been listening to a lot of music lately that pleases me immensely with simple lyrics. I [heart] songs that speak to 'thea.' Try this one on for size, c/o the iTunes network in the apartments. Frigteningly enough, it just dawned on me that "Anna's Music" might belong to Ms. Karni, my (and sort of Klu's, and others') unspoken arch nemesis since Intro CompLit sophomore year. Crap. How can you hate someone who has such *hip* taste in music? The trendiness disgusts me, and yet somehow I cannot pull away. In any case, here goes:

Lemon Meringue Pie
Pulled into town about a quarter to three
Singin' songs from Spain at the top of my lungs.
She said "hey babe" when she saw me,
I went lookin' for her, and she went lookin' for fun.
Dancin' in the kitchen with a wooden spoon,
I couldn't see what she was makin' from the other side of the room
I took a step inside and made myself a part of that night.

...She said "you've always got to read the box,
But you gotta read me right."
We made some lemon meringue pie,
And it sucked, but anyway I would make it again with you any time.
We ate your lemon meringue pie,
I supppose I shouldn't lie, it's the only reason that I came by
Tonight.

I have been thinking a lot about Spain lately, chatting with Mark about Madrid, all the hullabaloo on the Go Boards about the terrorist attacks, and how much fun I had over there last year. This evening, however, whilst licking a wooden spoon in my kitchen I thought about springtime in Spain, and I couldn't remember any robins. Orange blossom trees, the azahar, dusty feria grounds, and tons of rain, but no robins. I guess there are some things that I missed around here in the spring, and some new things that I like even better than Spanish pop.

Ah, sweet spring in Philadelphia

Not.

Yeah, so four days ago I was running on the beach in shorts and a t-shirt, and it's been SNOWING for two days now. There is something really wrong with this, if no more than I can't deal with the prospect of more winter.

I know I've been rather neglectful of the blog lately, but the week before break was crazy, and I spent most of break avoiding electronic communication because I knew it would just remind me of the work that I wasn't doing for school. That said, the whole time was pretty damn good up until the end, when being in the same house as my under-the-weather parents made me want to start gnawing off my own limbs. So I left =).

The week started out in quite the flurry of travel. on Thursday night D. and I drove down the Eastern Shore to the glamorous Va Beach. Mom greeted us with hors d'ouvres and told me that I was making dinner. Gee, thanks for the warning. I guess I shouldn't bitch about a beautiful fillet of rockfish waiting for me, it was just funny. After laundry, unpacking, re-packing, little sleep, and about 10 hours, we shipped off on Friday morning to San Diego.

In spite of the reasons for the trek, it was nice. The memorial services were well done, and it was good for the whole family to be together. I also finally got to see California, and figured out why so *damn* many people want to live there.

1. it's beautiful and sunny
2. it's full of beautiful, sunny, fashion conscious people
3. all the beautiful people drive beautiful (or trendy cute) cars
4. when you're that beautiful, and the weather's that beautiful, you can be in a bathing suit all the time and become even more bronzed and beautiful on the beach.

Needless to say, I in my whiteness screamed out "You don't belong here!"

Red-eye flights s-u-c-k, as I realized while curled up on the floor of the Atlanta airport circa 6:30 am Monday morning, still over an hour from our 8:30 flight with flourescent lights blaring and airport CNN ringing in my head. Mandi entertained D. while I was gone, and he came to meet the 3 Williamsons at Norfolk bearing tragic news.

Not. Turns out it was just that a tree had fallen on our car, but he looked pretty worried about telling my parents. It's not like it's his fault! Anyway, that was resolved with little trauma and the rest of his trip was less stressful, I hope. OBX on Tuesday, and then he was out of there on Weds. [Sadness].

Finished up the week gloriously with Mandi, performing the prerequisite stop by Things Unlimited, the best thrift store EVER, hands down. Pink leather skirt. 70's sweaters. Tennis skirts from soccer moms. Bought a suit for the ominously approaching TFA interview (which went pretty decently, in spite of the FUCKING SNOW), and even managed to get a little bit of work done when I wasn't watching movies and working on the car. And by 'working' I mean more fucking up the work I did over the summer.

On my hot, hot Saturday Night, I drove north up the shore, stopping for cheap alcohol (yet to be consumed, darn it) while still in good ol' Virginnie. Glassblowing on Sunday , combined with freaking out about TFA, and hot hot new Alias. It is now my duty to recover from my complete lack of activity the past two days, and utter the common sentiment among seniors everywhere (writing theses or not) "I think I'm fucked."

Time is moving rather fast, and although my parents like to remind me that graduation is a few short months away, I'd like those to be a little slower so that I can get stuff done. Glassblowing also continues, now that I've rearranged the tutorial sessions to accommodate the [woo hoo!] intermediate class on Wednesday nights. With this newly accelerated space-time continuum going on, I feel as though I haven't made enough time to spend quality hours with some important people, those I live with, among others...but it will be the weekend soon, the time of rest and relaxation.

Not.

I'm so not on top of things.

Yeah, so I'm leaving school tomorrow. Maybe I should you know, pack. Maybe I should try to hand in ONE of the two thesis fragments that are supposed to be finished by next Monday. Maybe I should get on that TFA interview which takes place in, oh, TWO WEEKS.

Or I could not. I could play soccer at night, eat breadsticks in the Coop, read one of the greatest Romantic novels ever [aside: why didn't anyone tell me Frankenstein was so good? Stolen scenes from the Quijote? Gore and psychological torture? Split identities and repressed homosexuality? Sweet.], fuck around with my new iPod, and pretend that everything is splendid.

Tutorial in 2 hours, still trying to come up with another fun activity to do before break, and after that I'm technically done with school until March 15th. Sweet.

Too bad I've got about 20-30 pages of revisions and writing to do for the theses, and another English paper waiting for me when I return. Perhaps it would be prudent not to think about these things right now, and turn my energies to more important things, like packing the car, remembering not to try and use spanish accent marks in html code, and fixing myself a decent Southern-style dinner.

Did I also mention...

That the shoes I bought on Friday are PINK ADIDAS? And that half of the soundtrack of O-11 is Benny Goodman tunes? Yeah. Thought so.

I went through the usual racking my brains for tutorial ideas today and Sunday, quickly rehearsing my answer to the usual question that I ask the girls: "Qué hicistéis este fin de semana?" and I really had trouble remembering what I did this weekend. I suppose it was because all Friday I thought it was Saturday, and everything just kind of blurred together in impromptu fun events. There was no planning, and yet everything seemed to come together; I love it when that happens =).

Saturday, after the gi-normous letdown of "Havana Nights" (let me rephrase: DIRTY DANCING-CAN-WE-PLEASE-HAVE-ONE-MORE-CHEAP-PATRICK-SWAYZE-ALLUSION-Havana Nights) during which the only pleasurable thing was watching Diego dance, and after the ecclectic roundup of the [now] usual suspects at La Casa for Jaime's birthday party, I tried to do work. Not much work was done, althogh I did go shopping with the roomie and softball buddy, and ran into CHC Ana in J.Crew. Could I please have a few more random "people who I sort of know" references? Yes, thanks. Ten points, no a whopping fifteen, to those who can identify all of the people mentioned in the last paragraph. Kaitlyn, you don't count.

After shopping, it was agreed upon that we should stop by 'Bella' the Italian "Restaurant" on the Main Line run by hispanohablantes with Greek disposeable tableware, mostly patronized by borderline alcoholic twentysomethings and out of work skater boys. Hello, out of place much? Not at all. Klu had it right: "I like beer, baseball and sandwiches. Boys should love me. Hell, I could be a boy." Picked up two six packs with our culinary sustenance, to be used later on, post thesis-ifying at our 80's dance pre-party.

It only takes 4 people to make a party, if you've got the right people. [grin]. Ouch, random non-sequiter: floss more regularly. Anyway, Saturday night was rockin,' and I do mean *rockin'*. I bedecked myself in 80's glory so much so that my roommate was embarassed to be seen with me. See, the cool thing about having an older sister is that I knew all about the cool stuff in the late 80's even though I was only in elementary school. She had stirrup pants, so they must have been cool. She went to Belinda Carslile concerts, so she had to be cool. She had feathered bangs, so they had to be cool. Oh wait, no, I think we've all agreed that's NOT okay.

I took my inspiration from Sarah Jessica Parker, a la "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" and wore a black mini, tights, scrunched socks, and the new old-school adidas (anyone else see a problem with this?), all topped off with Alex's old Ron Jon's shirt in neon yellow, pink and blue. Matching blue eyeshadow, bangles, and huge white earrings, and I was a sight to behold. Can't wait for the pictures. Founders was actually fun, and much time was spent chasing after random seniors whom we hadn't seen in ages.

Oscars on Sunday, eh. Billy Crystal is so funny, Blake Edwards is so the embodiment of a genius, and LOTR III (I'm sorry to say) *so* was not the best picture of the year, but what can you do?

Bringing me chronologically to Monday (today, duh). THREE days till Spring Break. Yesssssssssss. The iPod also came in the mail today, 15 GB's 'cause that's all I can afford, but it's sooo pretty. Soo cute. Came in three days from Shanghai, and I tracked it twice a day on the FedEx website. Not a dork. Not a dork. Just keep telling yourself that. iPod and Girl Scout cookies from Mom in one day, intellectual validation from the English Prof, I'm doing pretty damn well. Woo hoo. Let's hope it's not just all in my head, and I actually *am* doing well =)