ALL HAIL ANGELA, FOR SHE IS FINALLY BACK FROM EUROPE!
I fucking love NPR. Last week on the night that Ben and I wer eon the phone really late having a marathon conversation, he asked me what I was listening to. I said NPR, and Ben shreiked with laughter and then spoke in an NPR newsperson voice: "...Next time, on All Things Considered," he said. Oh, man. If you EVER want to know something about the Palastinians, NPR is the place to be.
Angela has arrived safely and soundly. Tomorrow we might take a nice drive to the coast and look at the water for a while. I sure am glad she made it back. I also got an amazing poster of a Picasso painting with handwriting on the back that said it cost eight euros.
Angela and many other friends' trips to Europe combined with the feeling of restlessness and captivity that Amy and I feel has fueled our newest project; to somehow get enough money to buy a plane ticket to England...and eventually Amsterdam, I'm sure. Though the Amsterdam thing is a tad trite and I will feel like I am in some bad college-life movie type thing, I would still love to go. It's LEGAL there!
Amy and I are shooting for spring break or early, early summer of next year. I will sleep in a bus station or a park like Angela did, if it comes to that.
I went to Aaron's fastpitch softball game and hung out with Angela and Jenn while we pretended to watch the game. We were talking about Angela's last boyfriend (pre-Aaron) whose name was Chad. Jenn and I went with Chad and Angela on their first date. Why? I don't know...because Angela needed us, we wanted to get a good look at this Chad fellow, and we knew that there's no way he'd have the balls to complain about the fact that we were there. I don't remember this but Angela and Jenn said on the way to the bowling alley (which is where we went on this date) that I swung around in my seat in the car and said, "So. Chad. Is that short for anything? Chadler? Chadley? Chatthew? Chandelier?" And Chad's nickname of Chadler stuck. They broke up and we don't even TALK to Chad anymore and he still uses the nickname Chadler, from what we hear. I actually came up with someone's nickname.
When I came back from the game, Adam was here. It was fun-we just watched TV and talked and ate brownies and stuff. It's strange how fun he can be and how utterly dull he can be at the same time. He's such a square, but we love him anyway.
God bless Nightside Jazz and Blues. God bless NPR.
I talked to Amy on the phone for a while. We conceived the idea of a trip to Europe, and we chatted about some things a bit deeper than how our jobs were going and what our moods were. Amy is feeling smothered. By her family a bit, by the things they like that she doesn't like, and so on. I said if anything, I feel hindered. But even that isn't much. I always look forward to my time in this house, but I didn't truly realize how good I had it until I spoke to Ben and Amy about how much they hate being at home. The only way I feel hindered is that I just have this constant stream of thinking going on and I can't stop it and I'm too afraid to bounce it off of anyone. Hindered...mentally. But I will find that problem wherever I go.
Amy feels smothered. And then I told her about a new theory I'm working on about my hatred for sex. Mock if you will, especially since I, uh, have never had sex by most people's definition. But I almost think that gives me a unique attitude about it, since I am probably in a high age bracket for virgins, seeing as how 7th and 8th graders theseadays are having sex in the bathrooms during recess. The times they are a changin'.
Anyway, I just think it has a huge capacity to ruin things. Sex, I mean. It can totally fuck everything up in a heartbeat. People become terrible people in the name of sex. They cheat and rape-it's disgusting. When did this supposed "beautiful union of two people" become such a controversy? Why did people have to take the action out of its context and place it in an extremely unflattering light?
So not only are there the physical side effects of disease and babies and blah, blah, blah, but sex toys with people's attachment tendencies in the most serious way. Women associate sex with intimacy and an emotional commitment and a mental connection. Men associate sex with getting off. Of course, I'm speaking generally. I don't doubt that there are some guys out there who have sex only when they really like the person or when they are sure that it won't come back and bite them in the ass later. But generally, that's how it goes, right? Women care too much, men don't care enough.
And then there's the figurative aspect. Some people, myself included, think that sex is a way of giving part of yourself to someone. Once you give it away, you never get it back. And if the person you gave it to takes off, you are just a portion of your once-whole self who's wondering where part of you went.
Nah, I'm not some femminazi, although it looks like it's heading that way. And I chose not to have sex during the periods of time that I could've because I like to tell myself that I'm smart enough not to do something terribly irreversible.
Well, now that I've been a complete freak for 5 or 6 paragraphs, I'll shut up and talk about things that might not get me such weird looks.
My car should be repaired tomorrow night. I have to go interview the bowling alley guy, too. Then Angela and I are going to hang out, which should be fun. I miss Jamie, too. It seems like I haven't seen her much.
So Amy and I settled our plans for meeting one another in Mount Pleasant. I got an envelope from Amy in the mail today with a copy of a King Crimson CD. The album is The Court of the Crimson King. You must download this. Do some drugs and maybe drink a little or something and then listen to this. Your mind will explode. And then your heart will.
Funny story: Amy's dad got a tattoo of a heart and a band that goes around his arm with his wife's name in it, Mary. Mary went to a John Mellancamp concert. She met him and he signed her ankle with a marker and she got his named tattooed on her ankle the next day. He got his wife's name, she got John Mellancamp's name.
Dude. I cannot wait to see Amy. Hopefully she can bring Mare and I'll get to play with him. And hopefully we can go to UCup and sip coffee and draw pictures and make plans for our "Animals & Women" newsletter that we plan on starting after we become women's and animal rights activists. Or maybe we could go downtown and see a band or something.
Tomorrow: mowing the lawn, interviews, writing, pictures, Angela
Friday: Writing, Mount Pleasant
"Someday we'll wave hello and wish we'd never wave goodbye."
-SP
Angela has arrived safely and soundly. Tomorrow we might take a nice drive to the coast and look at the water for a while. I sure am glad she made it back. I also got an amazing poster of a Picasso painting with handwriting on the back that said it cost eight euros.
Angela and many other friends' trips to Europe combined with the feeling of restlessness and captivity that Amy and I feel has fueled our newest project; to somehow get enough money to buy a plane ticket to England...and eventually Amsterdam, I'm sure. Though the Amsterdam thing is a tad trite and I will feel like I am in some bad college-life movie type thing, I would still love to go. It's LEGAL there!
Amy and I are shooting for spring break or early, early summer of next year. I will sleep in a bus station or a park like Angela did, if it comes to that.
I went to Aaron's fastpitch softball game and hung out with Angela and Jenn while we pretended to watch the game. We were talking about Angela's last boyfriend (pre-Aaron) whose name was Chad. Jenn and I went with Chad and Angela on their first date. Why? I don't know...because Angela needed us, we wanted to get a good look at this Chad fellow, and we knew that there's no way he'd have the balls to complain about the fact that we were there. I don't remember this but Angela and Jenn said on the way to the bowling alley (which is where we went on this date) that I swung around in my seat in the car and said, "So. Chad. Is that short for anything? Chadler? Chadley? Chatthew? Chandelier?" And Chad's nickname of Chadler stuck. They broke up and we don't even TALK to Chad anymore and he still uses the nickname Chadler, from what we hear. I actually came up with someone's nickname.
When I came back from the game, Adam was here. It was fun-we just watched TV and talked and ate brownies and stuff. It's strange how fun he can be and how utterly dull he can be at the same time. He's such a square, but we love him anyway.
God bless Nightside Jazz and Blues. God bless NPR.
I talked to Amy on the phone for a while. We conceived the idea of a trip to Europe, and we chatted about some things a bit deeper than how our jobs were going and what our moods were. Amy is feeling smothered. By her family a bit, by the things they like that she doesn't like, and so on. I said if anything, I feel hindered. But even that isn't much. I always look forward to my time in this house, but I didn't truly realize how good I had it until I spoke to Ben and Amy about how much they hate being at home. The only way I feel hindered is that I just have this constant stream of thinking going on and I can't stop it and I'm too afraid to bounce it off of anyone. Hindered...mentally. But I will find that problem wherever I go.
Amy feels smothered. And then I told her about a new theory I'm working on about my hatred for sex. Mock if you will, especially since I, uh, have never had sex by most people's definition. But I almost think that gives me a unique attitude about it, since I am probably in a high age bracket for virgins, seeing as how 7th and 8th graders theseadays are having sex in the bathrooms during recess. The times they are a changin'.
Anyway, I just think it has a huge capacity to ruin things. Sex, I mean. It can totally fuck everything up in a heartbeat. People become terrible people in the name of sex. They cheat and rape-it's disgusting. When did this supposed "beautiful union of two people" become such a controversy? Why did people have to take the action out of its context and place it in an extremely unflattering light?
So not only are there the physical side effects of disease and babies and blah, blah, blah, but sex toys with people's attachment tendencies in the most serious way. Women associate sex with intimacy and an emotional commitment and a mental connection. Men associate sex with getting off. Of course, I'm speaking generally. I don't doubt that there are some guys out there who have sex only when they really like the person or when they are sure that it won't come back and bite them in the ass later. But generally, that's how it goes, right? Women care too much, men don't care enough.
And then there's the figurative aspect. Some people, myself included, think that sex is a way of giving part of yourself to someone. Once you give it away, you never get it back. And if the person you gave it to takes off, you are just a portion of your once-whole self who's wondering where part of you went.
Nah, I'm not some femminazi, although it looks like it's heading that way. And I chose not to have sex during the periods of time that I could've because I like to tell myself that I'm smart enough not to do something terribly irreversible.
Well, now that I've been a complete freak for 5 or 6 paragraphs, I'll shut up and talk about things that might not get me such weird looks.
My car should be repaired tomorrow night. I have to go interview the bowling alley guy, too. Then Angela and I are going to hang out, which should be fun. I miss Jamie, too. It seems like I haven't seen her much.
So Amy and I settled our plans for meeting one another in Mount Pleasant. I got an envelope from Amy in the mail today with a copy of a King Crimson CD. The album is The Court of the Crimson King. You must download this. Do some drugs and maybe drink a little or something and then listen to this. Your mind will explode. And then your heart will.
Funny story: Amy's dad got a tattoo of a heart and a band that goes around his arm with his wife's name in it, Mary. Mary went to a John Mellancamp concert. She met him and he signed her ankle with a marker and she got his named tattooed on her ankle the next day. He got his wife's name, she got John Mellancamp's name.
Dude. I cannot wait to see Amy. Hopefully she can bring Mare and I'll get to play with him. And hopefully we can go to UCup and sip coffee and draw pictures and make plans for our "Animals & Women" newsletter that we plan on starting after we become women's and animal rights activists. Or maybe we could go downtown and see a band or something.
Tomorrow: mowing the lawn, interviews, writing, pictures, Angela
Friday: Writing, Mount Pleasant
"Someday we'll wave hello and wish we'd never wave goodbye."
-SP