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Friday, April 30, 2004

oh my god.



i may have started another post with that.


regardless, do i look like someone from rantoul?

i only ask because i was just mistaken for someone that not only is from rantoul or the area but also someone that hits on the gas station attendant at the local rantoul fueling hole.


yes, i do not lie.





though, random twins are not uncommon for me. i have like 83.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

ok, friends, this posting is relatively top-secret...


well, clearly not enough to keep it from being broadcast on an internet journal, but enough that i'm not naming names or pointing fingers. honestly, i'm just not entirely sure what to do. all in all, this is very hush-hush... very q.t.


this is the scenario. two friends of mine (x and y, well, i'm really only good friends with y, now, as i met x ages ago, but we never really became tight and only have the occasional conversation here and there) have been casually seeing each other for maybe a little over a month or so. at first, it really wasn't any big thing, but recently, they've become... closer... slightly more intimate. let's say that. anyhow, the problem arises with one friend's sexual history. see, like 2 years ago, before i really knew either of them, i remember a rumor going around about x. a rumor that was seemingly substantiated by reliable sources. a rumor i admit believing. anyhow, rumor had it, that he had it... it being gonorrhea.

now, my dilemma - do i tell y about his "boyfriend"'s sordid history? is this really my business?
i mean, i'm assuming x had this treated, if he had it, so is it really my place to be all up in their relationship woo? "so y, i heard forever ago that x had the gono."

that's definitely a conversation i don't want to have, and one i didn't have to have until they started getting closer... more intimate. let's say that. honestly, as long as they weren't boinking, i didn't have any real responsibility, but now that their bedrooms have collided, my conscience is in a whirl.

really, what do i do?






molly's p.s. - spent a lovely day on the quad today after listening to a lecture about video games and gender. all in all, highly entertaining. otherwise, i have too many std's on the brain to really focus. oh, and the piles of homework don't help.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

either someone's been reading my journal, or people really are just strange.


i may or may not explain later.




otherwise, this week has been hellish.

graduation cannot come soon enough.






molly's p.s. - nothing of import.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

1. i shouldn't be allowed near a computer with access to the internet at 4 a.m.


2. while my own love life is floundering (still), i am apparently quite adept at spewing relationship advice to others. note to self: start disgustingly successful sex and relationship advice column a la carrie bradshaw - be s.a.t.c. meets q.e.4.s.g.







molly's p.s. - clearly, last night was not the best of times for me. while overall the evening was fine, little moments were incredibly ew worthy. i pose a question: why would someone take the time to find me (inevitably it was done on friendster) and then contact me, only to never initiate another conversation ever? somehow, i got stuck doing all the legwork of conversation only to see said pseudo-admirer run into the arms of another last night. the other being a notorious shade ball, no less. what the fuck is up with people?

today's only worse.



read yesterday's.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

yeah, that's me. the single one.

i'm usually not into self-pity; it's so very winter '02, but what's the point of a web journal, if you can't use it to write the things you're too embarrassed to admit outloud?

maybe i shouldn't call it self-pity, though. as i don't pity myself because i'm single... no, i don't mope around and cry because i'm not in a relationship, rather, i get fed up with waiting for one.


i've discovered that when it comes to becoming not single there are no true theories.

my friends used to say that i didn't put myself out there, physically or emotionally, for a relationship. they will now admit that i am out there. i am open and appear ready and willing. nothing changed.

the new theory became that i was trying too hard. my active search for love made it flee like ducks during hunting season. my readiness being the opening shot, drowning out the sounds of wings flapping in escape. i stopped looking. i just looked for friends and nothing more. i've made new friends, but nothing's changed.
now, the theory is that i appear too desperate when a new prospect arises. i will be the first to admit that when meeting new people i am already mentally picking out what i'll wear on our first date... but really, who can blame me? i've been at this game for way too long to not have scored any points.


i'm tired of being told to wait. i'm tired of being told that it'll happen. i'm tired of being told there's no reason for a cute guy like me to be alone, though i don't mind hearing the cute part over and over again. i'm tired of being told to keep looking. i'm tired of being told it'll all change when i move. i'm tired of being told.

i'm tired of being told, so this is me telling you for once.

something's got to give.

i can't sit around for another spring, another birthday, another christmas, another new year's eve, another valentine's day without having someone special to me alone to share it with. my first relationship has been 21 years in the making, and that shit needs to get the fuck out of the oven. i can't sit around for another month, another week, another day and see plenty of other people finding not necessarily love but at least someone to pass the time with. my first relationship has been 21 years in the making, and that's been long enough for me to stop expecting the greatest love affair of my life, but it's a really long time to wait for a date.

i'd say i felt like a sailor's wife on her widow's walk, every night looking to the sea for her lover to return, but that'd mean i'd had someone. it'd require me to know who i was waiting for. i don't.

i don't feel sorry for myself, regardless of how this might read. i'm just tired. i'm tired of waiting and i'm tired of this building fear in me.



how do i know when i've waited too long for a train that's never coming to the station?

Friday, April 23, 2004

it's friday, and i want nothing more than to go to happy hour.


no one will go with me. my friends suck.



this week has been hell, but it's over. praise, jesus! the coming weeks should prove incredibly lazy and highly debaucherous.

i really want a beer right now to celebrate it being friday. oh, i want chicken fingers, too.
my friend jill just commented that she actually wants 6 beers. i couldn't disagree.






molly's p.s. - until last night, i hadn't seen anyone, as i was chained to my desk and sentenced to write until my fingers bled or my b key broke (which it did). however, i escaped last night for the infamous "battle of the summers" barcrawl. i played for summer '02, but deep down, i was still battling for summer '01. needless to say, '02 kicked some '03 ass. at least i think we did. you know how it goes, and at the end there, it was a little fuzzy. about 3/4 of the way through my $3 pitcher at joe's, i realized i had drank 9 beers in the previous 2 hours, and was now almost done with the pitcher i bought 20 minutes prior. thus, i slurped it down because i totally needed one more pitcher, and it was 1:15. there was a lot less making out this year than last. mostly because nearly everyone had pussed out at the second-to-last bar. that's what they get for having it on a thursday and starting at 9. i should go back into the barcrawl business. ain't nobody throw a better crawl than me.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

as of late, my life has been inundated with religion.



chockfull.


for starters, once a week i have a dialogue course on religious diversity. as i am attending a large, public university in central illinois, it goes without saying that the religious diversity ain't so diverse. nearly everyone in the class hails from some form of protestant christianity. in addition, we have 1 catholic (me, if i really count), 1 athiest, 1 wiccan, 1 muslim, 1 hindu, and 2 jews. there are only 18 people in the class. over half the class shares a perspective. believe me, it's fun.

actually, it really is. mostly because i love to push their buttons. on monday, we had our session on "hot topics". mind you, they weren't that hot, but regardless, they got us talking. we started with the presence of the 10 commandments in courthouses and schools. the christians huddled for an our father and broke out with how our nation's laws were founded on the moral laws of christianity. thus, they argued, the 10 commandments have loads of business in the courts.

i tore into them with legal prowess and rhetorical expertise on the separation of church and state. though it was a dialogue and not a debate, i won.


last week, as briefly mentioned in an earlier post, i was cornered by 3 christians on the quad. they had me sit with them, as they asked me questions about my faith. i instantly referenced my catholic upbringing for inspired and appropriate answers. basically, i lied to them. while normally, i'd be all about standing my ground, i was just too lazy that day. it was beautiful, and all i wanted was to get ice cream and sit on the grass. lying was the quickest means to my desired end. after giving an oratory on my religious beliefs and answering the question "if you died right now, how would you convince god to let you into heaven?", i was free... well, almost free. first, they had to pray for me. for almost 5 minutes, i sat while they bowed their heads and prayed for my ever-lovin', happy little soul. before they left me in a state of religious shock, one gave me his email address to get together for coffee. the whole exchange was incredibly strange.

regardless, i won't be emailing him.






molly's p.s. - my parents were here for much of the weekend. this mostly meant decent food and a bit of shopping. they came to attend several banquets, so i'm incredibly burnt out on the union's catering. the last one, the banquet on sunday, was excrutiatingly horrible. however, i did get a good laugh out of some of the speakers. frank was here this weekend as well. i know, it's just like frank to come on mom's weekend. needless to say, however, i was pretty intoxicated most of the weekend. you'd have been proud.

Friday, April 16, 2004

ah fuuuuuuuuuuuck...

i realized i forgot molly's p.s.



molly's p.s. - for lunch i had mcdonald's. what can i say? i'm a part of the capitalist, greedy machine. just call me cog #31872. while i sat on the quad all day, i saw lots of people. i was inquisitioned by a christian trio that could have been pulled from a colors of benetton photo shoot. in the end, they prayed for my eternal catholic soul. i may post a whole entry on that little exchange. i sat with everyone's favorite, pink-clad japanese girl for a long time, and later, the very fabulous ms. fisher stopped by, right as adam showed up. ms. fisher had to leave when she spotted a crazy girl (we'll call her janine) and left saying, "i have to go tend to janine. she needs a strong, black woman in her life." she left in a flourish of her trademark laughter. i also ate a delight's ice cream with the brownie mix-in. it was divine.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

holy shit, it was pretty today. i was pretty, too. i think.


i sat on the quad for nearly 4 hours. it was glorious. people were so happy, and that makes me smile. i'm going back tomorrow. this time i'll be armed with a big, red blanket.

there was a lovely couple near me; they were sitting under a tree. she sat indian-style (is that p.c.?) and he lied out beside her, his head resting on her thigh. their hands were locked without interruption. i see couples all the time, but there was something intangible about this couple. they had a tingle. i could tell they were totally in it. maybe they weren't soulmates, maybe they weren't meant for each other, but they had an innocent joy for each other that radiated. it was intoxicating and made the spring feel a bit cooler, a bit quieter.

i wasn't the only one who noticed them; i was with friends, and one made note of the couple outloud. she said, "i want that."

i said, "we all want that."

from there, we went on to discuss love, companionship, and romance. the main question of debate: why do strange people find another when normal people cannot? the question was raised when an infamously odd boy walked by with his girlfriend. they didn't have the tingle, but they had each other. we couldn't help but wonder how it was possible for him to find someone when we'd been struggling for ages, and in my case, years. we insisted that she must be odd, too. case closed.

regardless, the whole dialogue got me thinking. why is it so hard for us, and specifically me (i know that sounds selfish), to find someone? i boiled it down to fate or cowardice. i had built a list of possible reasons, and these were the only two for which i couldn't provide counterarguments.

1. we don't put ourselves out there. (my counterargument: incredibly not true. i do put myself out there. i'm on every singles website known to mankind. i may even build my own just to have a new opportunity. i advertise my willingness and openness to dating. i incessantly remind friends, without looking desperate, that i am single. i am out there.)

2. we don't meet new people. (my counterargument: i am always meeting new people. for real, no joke, literally constantly. i'm a new person junkie. debating who to remove from my buddy list to accommodate a newbie is an incessant battle.)

3. our area is not conducive to finding someone. (my counterargument: i live in a college town with roughly 50,000 people within my age group. if i'm constantly meeting new people, then surely this area must have someone suitable for me.)

4. we're unattractive. (my counterargument: dismissed immediately. i'm no supermodel, but i'm no extreme makeover candidate either.)

5. we're too picky. (my counterargument: while i do have a "type" i'm generally attracted to, i have never been strict in my adherence to those guidelines. i'm willing to talk to just about anyone and even cave on my dealbreakers routinely.)

6. it's a matter of fate. (can't argue with fate.)

7. we're too cowardly to make the first move. (i always wait to be asked out.)
so there it is. either destiny wants me to be single for the time being, or i've got to sack up and start asking people out. for me though, i never know when the appropriate time to pose the question is. i don't want to ask out strangers, but you can't ask out a good friend either. i always miss the window. it always seems like it's too early or too late.



i think i'll just blame fate for now. my tingle will come.

Monday, April 12, 2004

i've been a delinquent. just saying that makes fiona apple sing through my mind.


i have an office. it's an office in a campus building, and i have to share it with two other people; nonetheless, however, it is my office. it's four walls with one window, and the window is also mine. i sit in front of the window almost everyday.

to see it, you'd think the window wouldn't show me very much on any given day or night; it faces a strange windblock structure, through which a parking lot is visible. the psychology building looms watchfully from a block's distance. a tree and a tall streetlamp also occupy the window's framed vision.

from my chair, i can clearly spy 10 offices in the psychology building. while during the day i have a difficult time making much of anything out of what is going on over there, at night, i can see quite distinctly the custodian, methodically and efficiently maintaining his post. he starts a little before 9 o'clock, and by 10:30 he is out of my range. occasionally, i'll catch the glow from some out of sight office through the tree - it's now new leaves becoming strangely backlit.

i'm not sure why i find the custodian so absolutely riveting. whenever i do catch a chance to watch him, i'm glued to the window until at least 10:30. his routine seems to calm the general chaos of my own life.
now and again, i'll tell him to remember the garbage, just in case he was going to forget it. room by room, we become a team. i somehow lose myself in something that'd go on without me, yet i'm convinced he'd have forgotten the garbage in 2c if i hadn't reminded him. it's strange, but it's my thing.


to steal from those sages of our own era, the writers of "sex and the city", watching the custodian is one of my secret single behaviors - those things i do when no one else is around. i have a few of them; i once sat down and established the list.

they are as follows:
- becoming a team with the custodian in the psychology building
- sitting on one kitchen counter and putting my feet up on the other, thus spanning the space of our galley kitchen with my legs, and putting a magazine on my thighs to read while i eat a bowl of cereal (i've luckily had several kitchens that accommodate this behavior)
- watching cartoon network regardless of how bad the cartoon is
- singing the star-spangled banner on a continuous loop
- studying the freckles on my back, occasionally doing imaginary connect-the-dots
- writing long sentences with my left hand
- making unnecessary lists of personal information





molly's p.s. - today, adam and i had spaghetti for lunch; it was pretty tasty. i didn't see anyone of great import, but i've been meeting a lot of new people lately - i'm not sure what that means for my love life, if anything. my mom thinks i've begun to fill out, as easter was the first time she hasn't yelled at me for being too thin in probably 4 years. however, i haven't gained any weight, so i must be shrinking. at least, now, i'm thinking of lily tomlin instead of fiona apple.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

i've been wandering in and out of memories all day.


while sitting at work and writing an assessment report, i suddenly remembered the very lovely pomegranate enthusiast i once encountered at the grocery store. i was quietly perusing the produce, and then, tap tap tap on my shoulder she goes. i turn to be greeted by a comely black woman wearing an interesting hat; her smile was beaming, and i bet to myself that i could fit my fist in her mouth and still have wiggle room.

"have you looked at the pomegranates?" she asked.

"why no... i haven't; i've never even had one before," i replied.

"oooooooooooooo, boy!" she exclaimed with the ooo rising in the middle, as if she'd eaten something really sour. "you come right over here, and i'll get you the finest pomegranate."

"what are they like?" i asked, as i figured i should know a little something about my impending produce purchase.

"fireworks," she said immediately. "they're like fourth of july fireworks in your mouth. the little balls just burst in your mouth. can you imagine, just bursting in your mouth?" she asked with intent, while handing me a large and weighty pomegranate.

"no, i can't" i said.

"soon you'll know," she responded and shuffled away without another word.

once home, i had to search the internet for the proper way to eat a pomegranate; she hadn't told me what to do with it.


this is why i love the grocery store.

can you imagine, just bursting in your mouth?




molly's p.s. - i'll relay more memories in later postings, as you'll remember when most of them occurred. i had mac and cheese for lunch, and saw no one of great consequence today. adam and i went out with special last night; i think i'm getting better at darts. we saw cara at brothers - she's looking good. i keep my eyes peeled for z.b. everywhere i go.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

it's either late monday night or early tuesday morning. currently, i'm preferring early tuesday morning.

i prefer the early morning option because it somehow conveys that i am, in actuality, a morning-person - nothing could be further from the truth.

an interruption: a friend just im'ed me for advice. i don't generally tout myself as someone to consult on life-altering decisions; however, it seems she feels differently. her debate is one i find many toiling over this time of year: career vs. grad school. it's like the battle of godzilla and mothra on a much smaller, less japanese scale. i can only hope i didn't ruin her life because of poor dubbing.

i had spent most of my evening preparing myself to write a paper on the representations of madness in ibsen's "rosmersholm" and "the lady from the sea". quite appropriately, i was slowly becoming a living representation of madness. having finished my second reading of "rosmersholm", i thought it wise to reread the assignment, as to better acquaint myself with the specifics of what i was writing.


the bloody paper isn't due until april 20.


this has been a recurring theme this semester. the theme being me as the worst student ever.
while i've always prided myself on the fact that i am a natural student for whom school comes quite easily, this last semester has been excrutiating. i honestly lack the will to make my education a priority. i think i am yet to turn in an assignment on time. i blame my looming unemployment.

with what was once my may graduation, now, being my august graduation (sidenote: i'm an august graduate who finishes school 3 weeks after the may commencement ceremony. explain that one.), i am still incredibly anxious about not having a job post-academia, even with the additional 3 month buffer. i have sent resumes to over 100 job postings; i have heard from 2 positions. i received offers from both companies; i will be accepting neither.
i only get the jobs i don't really want, and the jobs i want don't want me. this whole idea seems vaguely reminiscent of my love life. unfortunately, i can't apply the same strategies to both. godzilla vs. mothra, round 2.


p.s. from here on out, i will most likely be including a brief postscript section that focuses less on my thoughts and more on the humdrum of my daily life. this section is almost entirely for molly because i am certain she wants to know what i ate for lunch and if i run into people we hate.

Monday, April 05, 2004

today, in a rather academic setting, i had a boy i hardly even know ask me if i was happy.

he sprung the question on me, though i knew it was coming. it was like a jack-in-the-box: you know the clown is going to spring out on "pop goes the weasel", but it still surprises you every time. (sidebar: why is it a clown, if the song is about a weasel?) we were lightheartedly discussing religion, if such a thing can be done, and suddenly, he was questioning my happiness. needless to say, i didn't know the answer. thus, i went into a rather loquacious answer about the subjectivity of happiness.

he saw right through it and added "so no" in a mixed tone of sympathy and condescension.

while initially i wondered where he got off asking me such a question in front of other people and then answering it for me with a tone that suggested i was somehow sad, now, i think about it and realize where it is that he got off.

unlike me, he is happy... he was honestly, truly happy.

now, whoa... i'm not some self-pitying depressive, who needs hugs and celexa. see, it's not that i'm unhappy; it's that i'm not happy. i'm in an ambiguous state of satisfaction, and i feel it's safe to say that nearly 99.7% of my day is spent feeling pretty good about life and living.

however, not being unhappy doesn't mean i'm happy. happy is a hard place to be, and usually an even harder place to get to. i have heard people say over and over that you determine your own happiness, that to be happy you just have to decide to be so. honestly, i think that's crap.



and, so, i wonder if it's not me who should be sorry for him.


today, to be truly happy means to me that you are either ignorant or selfish. while i am very easily not unhappy with the world, it is incredibly impossible for me to be happy with the world. i am not satisfied or pleased when our worst nightmares occur in reality on a daily basis. these are things too difficult for me to ignore for the sake of my own happiness. he, however, seemed quite apt.

i think the distinction needs to be drawn. i determine my own unhappiness, but we decide as a whole the happiness of the sum.

it's humbling to see how little power you have in determining your happiness, but truly significant to choose not to be sad.



thanks to the boy.

Sunday, April 04, 2004

today, i saw a commercial with mary j. blige thanking "mrs. sweeney", a woman who pushed her to be her best and sing her heart out. it was an american express commercial. i think my amex is my mrs. sweeney.

it was another day like grandma, though she prefers i call her sharon. mother nature needs to make up her mind because i need to prep my closet accordingly.

it's 8 pm on sunday, and i have absolutely nothing to do. i'm desperate for entertainment. even more desperate for a significant other.

my monday class was canceled for passover, though passover doesn't start until tuesday. further to that end, the same class is canceled for wednesday. apparently, the professor i've seen eat a ham sandwich is just a devout enough jew to forfeit teaching for her faith. however, i'm not complaining; i'd much rather have those 3 hours this week to spend elsewhere.

Saturday, April 03, 2004

it's deceptively sunny outside. a day like my grandmother.


the wind is just wicked, and it thwarted all attempts i made to read on the quad today.
i packed up my things this afternoon with all intentions of catching up on my academic reading. at first, i was victorious; it was just sunny enough to keep it warm when the wind blew. however, the wind soon brought in clouds as reinforcements and totally won. it made me think of that old story about the wind and the sun challenging each other over the man in the coat. the sun was supposed to win, but in this version, the sun was a big pussy, and the wind was a bad ass. needless to say, i caved and came home.


adam is incredibly hungover. in fact, he's napping this very moment. we went out last night, and he had to be at work very early this morning. i'm sure the others noticed the alcohol on him as he facilitated training sessions, and i'm sure he was falsely beaming through the whole thing. it's strange, though. he was quite sober before retiring for the evening; his boyfriend was another story, yet this morning, it was josh who was fine and adam suffering, cursing his liver.

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