February 2, 2007. iHollywould!
My February 2, 2007. I'm a radio DJ and I attended a formal party, so my day was pretty interesting. It was filled with a lot of instances of me being a failure and very few instances of me succeeding. I'm a fourth-year Creative Writing student at Winona State University in Minnesota, USA and it was extremely cold today, but I'll get more into that within the post. This is my first time posting and I enjoyed the project, even though I had to explain it a lot in order to not feel weird.
Some of these were taken with the camera on my MacBook and some were taken with a camera I borrowed. All the "backwards" pictures (the first few) are the MacBook pics. I had an interesting day, made more interesting by my constant explanation of what I was doing.
I woke up at 3:50 AM (that's what my phone says, even though it's backwards). I had to shower and leave my apartment by 5:15 AM so I could be on campus no later than 5:45. Usually there's a shuttle bus that runs from our apartments to campus, but it doesn't run that early. I had to be there to do my first shift ever at the radio station on campus, KQAL, which is supposed to go from 6:00-8:00 AM.
Look, I'm naively excited and overdressed for my seven-block walk through -30 degree windchill weather!
This is the computer, called Simian. It was running on automation when I got there, so I successfully removed it from that and broadcast the weather, AP News, and PSAs.
What should I play? I only have over 2000 CDs to choose from! I settle on "Australia" from The Shins' new album and set everything up to play. I put everything in, the music plays in the studio, and, feeling optimistic but tentative, I decide to check if it's playing on the radio. It isn't. At the moment I realize this, the manager of KQAL calls me and informs me I've just broadcast 20 minutes of dead air.
Panicked, I put Simian on automation again and leave the radio station dark and glowing. I feel awful, like the FCC will break down my door and kill me for failing so miserably. By this time, it's 6:30-ish and I decide to go back to my room for awhile.
I walk back through the deathly cold and make it back to realize that the ice in my cup from the Dr. Pepper I'd had before I left has not melted. This is symbolic and ominous and I take a picture of it.
The bus is running now, so I hop on and head to campus. I tell my story to the bus driver, who assures me that I won't be arrested. I arrive on campus. I attend Winona State University in Minnesota and our color is purple, hence the stupid banners everywhere.
Minne Hall, my destination. By this time, it's 8:15 AM and I head up to the third floor (aka, the Dwelling of the English Majors) to sleep and kill time.
I watch the video "Be Gentle With Me" by The Boy Least Likely To on YouTube, because I'm obsessed with that song and I need something to make me not want to run through Minne screaming.
I have no idea what these people were doing. I do know that it involved putting square stencils on the windows and tracing and being very loud, so I secretly hated them.
This is in Technical Writing at 10:00 AM. I didn't take a picture of the people because it's just Tim and Matt and they would just make fun of me, because that's how that class works. Make fun of Melissa because she is blond. OH WOW, THEY ARE SO HILARIOUS. And they decide to tell me how cold it is outside, to which I respond with, "Go fuck yourselves. I walked to and from campus at FIVE IN THE MORNING." They laughed. Anyway, here's my notebook (decorated by myself) sitting on top of my Mac. There are also my headphones.
My notes. The ones from today are the green ones on the bottom. I write very tiny on unlined drawing paper because it's more fun that way.
I stay in the same classroom two classes in a row - the infamous Minne 350. This class is Story Writing and there are a lot more interesting people in it. Here is Justin and Ericka, who I told to "Look exciting!" Ericka took this too far.
Alyssa shows off her Russian hat. I call her a Communist. She makes fun of my gigantic failure from earlier, mumbling "Automaaaation" every few minutes to me. I respond, "Touche, my friend. Touche."
We are making our desks into a circle so we can analyze some stories. The person who wrote the story is not allowed to talk - they just listen while the rest of us discuss their poorly-written work for 20 minutes. It's funny.
Alyssa does a poor job of shaking her reputation as a Communist, as she wears a red jacket over her Russian hat. I laugh at her again and she again says, "Automaaaation."
I decide to skip Creative Writing and Argumentation because I'm very tired. It's noon and I still have a lot to do today and I don't think these classes will matter. I head down the Minne stairs, which are a death trap. I think they put all the English classes on the third floor of Minne so that we English majors actually get exercise.
I walk across campus. It's pretty cold.
I hop the bus back to my apartment. At the stop is the previously-mentioned Tim, who I glare at and walk to my apartment. This is the view. Off in the distance is a bluff called "Sugar Loaf" by everyone in charge of tourism, but I just call it "Winona's Nipple" because it indeed looks that way.
I receive an email from the manager of KQAL who'd talked to me earlier. He told me not to worry and that in one month, I'd be a pro. I don't worry. Then I take a nap. By this time, it's roughly 1:30.
My roommates are being loud. I wake up at what appears to be 4:20 (time check, sorry for the poorly-focused camera-ing). I take another nap.
This time, I wake up and it's 8:01. I'm supposed to be at my friend Andy's Formal Grad Party at 9:30.
I check the weather. It says -4 degrees, with a windchill of -35 (I think that's what it says). I decide against walking and I message Ronnie for a ride.
I have time to kill, so I begin writing a story for Story Writing. I want to prove that I'm a better writer than some of the poor saps whose writing we read, so I start two weeks in advance. This one is about bees.
I wander the apartment briefly. It's very "art deco," in the words of one of my friends. I think it's depressingly devoid of random shit, though.
I look up "pizza" on Wikipedia and debate the merits of calling people "to go get some 'za." I decide against this, as it makes me sound like a tool.
Some random number starting with 119 has called me twice and, curious, I dial back. It's apparently not a real number. But I check my voice mail and find out it is my friend calling from Iraq and the 119 had been a country code. I immediately feel guilt for putting my phone on vibrate and sleeping away most of the afternoon.
I make a mix CD for Andy. Included are "Safety Dance" and "Video Killed the Radio Star," musts for any party mix. I'm excited because it'll give me a chance to redeem myself to the Audio Gods.
Pre-hair/makeup. I also include the note that my roommate/friend Emily put on the mirror for me. I'd borrowed her camera for this.
I choose earrings. I wound up wearing one that looked like a guitar and one that looked like a lightning bolt. it's a Formal Grad Party, so we're supposed to look nice.
Alas, I don't have any shoes that would look good with my particular choice of pinstriped gangster pants and black tuxedo shirt, so I instead choose the ones that would match the LEAST and wind up looking OBNOXIOUS, but I'm okay with that.
I realize I'm running slightly late (it's 9:46 and I said I'd be at Ronnie's place by 9:45) so I run down the stairs. Luckily she lives in the next building, so I arrive by 9;48. I blame it on the CD burning, but I know it's really because I'm narcissistic. And a girl. And girls take forever.
Ronnie's apartment has much more interesting things in it, including posters and illegal pets. I tell her to "look exciting" and she gives me a thumbs-up.
At Andy's place. I see Katie (girl in black/pink) and tell her hello and then announce that I'm going to take her picture. Some other girl jumps in.
Ronnie realizes that no one has 7up, so we leave briefly to go get some from Kwik Trip, the gas station. WHERE ARE MY SHOES, I CAN'T FIND THEM? Oh that's right, they're the only pair that is obnoxiously white and blue.
A very poorly-taken picture of our journey, taken from the front seat of Ronnie's car. "Don't take it," she said. "It'll turn out bad." I take it anyway. It turns out bad. I tell Ronnie that her windshield could use some washing.
These people are playing a drinking game. It was very loud and was interrupting my very important task of clinging to the counter as a wallflower bent on not meeting people.
This is John and some girl dancing on the counter. I think this picture is hilarious and, coupled with some good photo-editing, would be fantastic. Plus, it is John dancing on a counter in a Newsies-esque hat. Something just strikes me as funny about this.
I settle myself towards the back of the party because the CD I'd brought starts playing and I get really into it, as I am wont to do, and people start staring. Katie says it's okay and that I only look kind of like a tool.
I spend the next half hour talking to Nate, who asks about my first day at KQAL and I immediately start laughing and tell him the story. We talk about music and the fact that this party is crazy and a lot of stuff like that. Nate's pretty cool. About at this point, my CD starts skipping halfway through "Digital Love" by Daft Punk and I start whining when Andy informs me that my CD mus tbe removed. Nate comments that this is clearly a day for audio malfunctions and I think this is hilariously and tragically true.
Ronnie's pretty drunk so I suggest we leave. It's about midnight at this point.
Digitally keying into my building. It's extremely cold and foggy out.
My CA (Community Assistant, similar to an RA) has chosen to make our building "Spanish-themed" but I think this chili pepper says iHola! instead of anything else. It's a Macintosh-made food spice.
I check my mail. Yay. No one's around because it's just after midnight.
I have a lot of mail in there, but it's all junk mail. My friend Tim does the mail for our building, so I leave my junk mail in there to piss him off. I think it works.
Back to my apartment. Look at all our fancy door decorations! Yay! I feel like a freshman again. Note the chili pepper.
I'm not tired at all, so I watch "Run Lola Run," which I got yesterday from Amazon. I love it.
Still not quite tired, so I read the stories for Story Writing that we got today. One sucks, the other is kind of good.
I wander back into the kitchen. Time check. It's 1:56 AM.
I take a picture of the metal star hanging from our entry way. I don't know what purpose it serves and I've hit my head on the pointy edges more than once.
I play with Frank, my Fender Stratocaster, for awhile.
I write more in my story. It's about a page long by now and I'm pretty satisfied, as I've come up with an ending that doesn't either suck or involve a deus ex machina.
I stare at the ceiling and listen to The Decemberists for awhile, daydreaming about the concert I'm going to in April.
At about 4:00 AM, I finally decide it's time for some sleep and I pick up David Sedaris's "Naked" and read until I do indeed drift off.
Some of these were taken with the camera on my MacBook and some were taken with a camera I borrowed. All the "backwards" pictures (the first few) are the MacBook pics. I had an interesting day, made more interesting by my constant explanation of what I was doing.
I woke up at 3:50 AM (that's what my phone says, even though it's backwards). I had to shower and leave my apartment by 5:15 AM so I could be on campus no later than 5:45. Usually there's a shuttle bus that runs from our apartments to campus, but it doesn't run that early. I had to be there to do my first shift ever at the radio station on campus, KQAL, which is supposed to go from 6:00-8:00 AM.
Look, I'm naively excited and overdressed for my seven-block walk through -30 degree windchill weather!
This is the computer, called Simian. It was running on automation when I got there, so I successfully removed it from that and broadcast the weather, AP News, and PSAs.
What should I play? I only have over 2000 CDs to choose from! I settle on "Australia" from The Shins' new album and set everything up to play. I put everything in, the music plays in the studio, and, feeling optimistic but tentative, I decide to check if it's playing on the radio. It isn't. At the moment I realize this, the manager of KQAL calls me and informs me I've just broadcast 20 minutes of dead air.
Panicked, I put Simian on automation again and leave the radio station dark and glowing. I feel awful, like the FCC will break down my door and kill me for failing so miserably. By this time, it's 6:30-ish and I decide to go back to my room for awhile.
I walk back through the deathly cold and make it back to realize that the ice in my cup from the Dr. Pepper I'd had before I left has not melted. This is symbolic and ominous and I take a picture of it.
The bus is running now, so I hop on and head to campus. I tell my story to the bus driver, who assures me that I won't be arrested. I arrive on campus. I attend Winona State University in Minnesota and our color is purple, hence the stupid banners everywhere.
Minne Hall, my destination. By this time, it's 8:15 AM and I head up to the third floor (aka, the Dwelling of the English Majors) to sleep and kill time.
I watch the video "Be Gentle With Me" by The Boy Least Likely To on YouTube, because I'm obsessed with that song and I need something to make me not want to run through Minne screaming.
I have no idea what these people were doing. I do know that it involved putting square stencils on the windows and tracing and being very loud, so I secretly hated them.
This is in Technical Writing at 10:00 AM. I didn't take a picture of the people because it's just Tim and Matt and they would just make fun of me, because that's how that class works. Make fun of Melissa because she is blond. OH WOW, THEY ARE SO HILARIOUS. And they decide to tell me how cold it is outside, to which I respond with, "Go fuck yourselves. I walked to and from campus at FIVE IN THE MORNING." They laughed. Anyway, here's my notebook (decorated by myself) sitting on top of my Mac. There are also my headphones.
My notes. The ones from today are the green ones on the bottom. I write very tiny on unlined drawing paper because it's more fun that way.
I stay in the same classroom two classes in a row - the infamous Minne 350. This class is Story Writing and there are a lot more interesting people in it. Here is Justin and Ericka, who I told to "Look exciting!" Ericka took this too far.
Alyssa shows off her Russian hat. I call her a Communist. She makes fun of my gigantic failure from earlier, mumbling "Automaaaation" every few minutes to me. I respond, "Touche, my friend. Touche."
We are making our desks into a circle so we can analyze some stories. The person who wrote the story is not allowed to talk - they just listen while the rest of us discuss their poorly-written work for 20 minutes. It's funny.
Alyssa does a poor job of shaking her reputation as a Communist, as she wears a red jacket over her Russian hat. I laugh at her again and she again says, "Automaaaation."
I decide to skip Creative Writing and Argumentation because I'm very tired. It's noon and I still have a lot to do today and I don't think these classes will matter. I head down the Minne stairs, which are a death trap. I think they put all the English classes on the third floor of Minne so that we English majors actually get exercise.
I walk across campus. It's pretty cold.
I hop the bus back to my apartment. At the stop is the previously-mentioned Tim, who I glare at and walk to my apartment. This is the view. Off in the distance is a bluff called "Sugar Loaf" by everyone in charge of tourism, but I just call it "Winona's Nipple" because it indeed looks that way.
I receive an email from the manager of KQAL who'd talked to me earlier. He told me not to worry and that in one month, I'd be a pro. I don't worry. Then I take a nap. By this time, it's roughly 1:30.
My roommates are being loud. I wake up at what appears to be 4:20 (time check, sorry for the poorly-focused camera-ing). I take another nap.
This time, I wake up and it's 8:01. I'm supposed to be at my friend Andy's Formal Grad Party at 9:30.
I check the weather. It says -4 degrees, with a windchill of -35 (I think that's what it says). I decide against walking and I message Ronnie for a ride.
I have time to kill, so I begin writing a story for Story Writing. I want to prove that I'm a better writer than some of the poor saps whose writing we read, so I start two weeks in advance. This one is about bees.
I wander the apartment briefly. It's very "art deco," in the words of one of my friends. I think it's depressingly devoid of random shit, though.
I look up "pizza" on Wikipedia and debate the merits of calling people "to go get some 'za." I decide against this, as it makes me sound like a tool.
Some random number starting with 119 has called me twice and, curious, I dial back. It's apparently not a real number. But I check my voice mail and find out it is my friend calling from Iraq and the 119 had been a country code. I immediately feel guilt for putting my phone on vibrate and sleeping away most of the afternoon.
I make a mix CD for Andy. Included are "Safety Dance" and "Video Killed the Radio Star," musts for any party mix. I'm excited because it'll give me a chance to redeem myself to the Audio Gods.
Pre-hair/makeup. I also include the note that my roommate/friend Emily put on the mirror for me. I'd borrowed her camera for this.
I choose earrings. I wound up wearing one that looked like a guitar and one that looked like a lightning bolt. it's a Formal Grad Party, so we're supposed to look nice.
Alas, I don't have any shoes that would look good with my particular choice of pinstriped gangster pants and black tuxedo shirt, so I instead choose the ones that would match the LEAST and wind up looking OBNOXIOUS, but I'm okay with that.
I realize I'm running slightly late (it's 9:46 and I said I'd be at Ronnie's place by 9:45) so I run down the stairs. Luckily she lives in the next building, so I arrive by 9;48. I blame it on the CD burning, but I know it's really because I'm narcissistic. And a girl. And girls take forever.
Ronnie's apartment has much more interesting things in it, including posters and illegal pets. I tell her to "look exciting" and she gives me a thumbs-up.
At Andy's place. I see Katie (girl in black/pink) and tell her hello and then announce that I'm going to take her picture. Some other girl jumps in.
Ronnie realizes that no one has 7up, so we leave briefly to go get some from Kwik Trip, the gas station. WHERE ARE MY SHOES, I CAN'T FIND THEM? Oh that's right, they're the only pair that is obnoxiously white and blue.
A very poorly-taken picture of our journey, taken from the front seat of Ronnie's car. "Don't take it," she said. "It'll turn out bad." I take it anyway. It turns out bad. I tell Ronnie that her windshield could use some washing.
These people are playing a drinking game. It was very loud and was interrupting my very important task of clinging to the counter as a wallflower bent on not meeting people.
This is John and some girl dancing on the counter. I think this picture is hilarious and, coupled with some good photo-editing, would be fantastic. Plus, it is John dancing on a counter in a Newsies-esque hat. Something just strikes me as funny about this.
I settle myself towards the back of the party because the CD I'd brought starts playing and I get really into it, as I am wont to do, and people start staring. Katie says it's okay and that I only look kind of like a tool.
I spend the next half hour talking to Nate, who asks about my first day at KQAL and I immediately start laughing and tell him the story. We talk about music and the fact that this party is crazy and a lot of stuff like that. Nate's pretty cool. About at this point, my CD starts skipping halfway through "Digital Love" by Daft Punk and I start whining when Andy informs me that my CD mus tbe removed. Nate comments that this is clearly a day for audio malfunctions and I think this is hilariously and tragically true.
Ronnie's pretty drunk so I suggest we leave. It's about midnight at this point.
Digitally keying into my building. It's extremely cold and foggy out.
My CA (Community Assistant, similar to an RA) has chosen to make our building "Spanish-themed" but I think this chili pepper says iHola! instead of anything else. It's a Macintosh-made food spice.
I check my mail. Yay. No one's around because it's just after midnight.
I have a lot of mail in there, but it's all junk mail. My friend Tim does the mail for our building, so I leave my junk mail in there to piss him off. I think it works.
Back to my apartment. Look at all our fancy door decorations! Yay! I feel like a freshman again. Note the chili pepper.
I'm not tired at all, so I watch "Run Lola Run," which I got yesterday from Amazon. I love it.
Still not quite tired, so I read the stories for Story Writing that we got today. One sucks, the other is kind of good.
I wander back into the kitchen. Time check. It's 1:56 AM.
I take a picture of the metal star hanging from our entry way. I don't know what purpose it serves and I've hit my head on the pointy edges more than once.
I play with Frank, my Fender Stratocaster, for awhile.
I write more in my story. It's about a page long by now and I'm pretty satisfied, as I've come up with an ending that doesn't either suck or involve a deus ex machina.
I stare at the ceiling and listen to The Decemberists for awhile, daydreaming about the concert I'm going to in April.
At about 4:00 AM, I finally decide it's time for some sleep and I pick up David Sedaris's "Naked" and read until I do indeed drift off.