The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

Hi everyone! I hope you all had a very happy side-dish day, as I know I did. My cousin Holly brought her 15 month-old baby Nicholas and he is a complete doll. He's a very happy child. I found out that my cousin Russell left his wife three weeks ago, but his life with her was getting really sucky, so it's actually a good thing. It was nice to have my crazy loud family over for the day. I ate, and I ate, and I ate some more. And then I had coffee. Today I took a trip up to Kittery with Tracy to shop and have lunch. I was saving up my appetite, so I didn't eat before we hit the road. We left at 11am and spent the next hour looking for 95. We are fartknockers. We ended up in Ipswich and went through Newburyport, and then we took exit 3 in NH instead of in Maine like we were supposed to. But eventually we got to the Weathervane and had our deep fried seafood in front of us by 2pm. I had scallops and fantail shrimp for breakfast. Now I feel very slow and heavy. Pie is next on the menu at 7. I can't wait.

Wow, this must be a record for me. I got my paper back last night in Literature of the American South, put it in my bag, and haven't looked at it since. It is now on my lap. And the grade is (drumroll, please). . . An A. Yes! That makes three. I am totally slacking on the last paper.

One year ago today in Sarah's blog:

From the "random thoughts to escape the random thoughts of Faulkner" department:
I had a thought and it went like so--black umbrellas should be outlawed. How dull and dreary are black umbrellas on gray days? And with all the rainy days we've been having lately it's enough to make you slam your head into a wall just to see some color. I want bright colors and pastels and silly reproductions of Van Gogh and Monet paintings on all umbrellas everywhere. How great would that be?

I feel like a rousing chorus of One Day More from Les Miserables is in order. Or maybe I'll just hum softly to myself for a few minutes. Tomorrow at this time. . . well, I'll still be here, but an hour after that, I will be on my way home. Amy is stinky and said that I won't get home until 8pm. She broke Annie's toe. So her opinion doesn't count.
I hope they have stuff I can eat at the Galley today. There are too many ham sandwiches and not a yogurt cup to be found.

Sometimes I forget the reasons why I love someone.

siona57: did you know that Jonathan Brandis died?
Rainer504: are you SERIOUS?
Rainer504: when
Rainer504: how?
siona57: recently
siona57: they think it might have been suicide
siona57: I read it online
Rainer504: oh my goodness
siona57: yeah, really
Rainer504: remember i wrote him a letter when i was sick because i was mad at him for something
siona57: wow
siona57: yeah, you were sick alright
Rainer504: lol
siona57: very weird, though
siona57: him being dead, I mean
siona57: not you
siona57: although it applies
Rainer504: yes it does
Rainer504: you gave me a doll of him
Rainer504: lol
siona57: he was totally young enough for you to hook up
Rainer504: holy shit i can't believe he's dead! i have a doll of him!
siona57: oh dear
Rainer504: when crazy with fever i wrote him letters
siona57: did you send them you freak?
Rainer504: lol no i still have them, i yelled at him for a lot of things
siona57: and now he will never know
Rainer504: heh. . . your right
siona57: the depth of your psychosis
Rainer504: i wonder if chuck norris knows
siona57: I'm sure he does
siona57: do you want to send him a letter?
Rainer504: i might
Rainer504: just in case
siona57: I really miss you :-)

And then I am reminded.

It is so warm here that the trees are putting out buds. What a beautiful day. I went grocery shopping with Tracy and we stopped in this very cute, very expensive gift shop and bought Christmas ornaments. Looking around that shop, I realized that I'm going to go psycho with the holiday decorating when I get my own home. I'm talking flatware and everything.

. . . You people are selfish. The Dufresnes are in somebody's trunk right now with duct tape over their mouths. And they're hungry. That's a double whammy. Bush, search party of three. You can eat when you find the Dufresnes.

There is nothing better than watching a Mitch Hedberg special right before heading off to work. It gives the day a whole new outlook.

Totally stolen from an article in Slate by William Saletan:
If you want family values, the simplest thing to do is to let people form families

So, shall I call it "The Curse of the Friendly Lady," or "The Curse of the Friendly Hello"? How about "The Curse of the Luscious Hips (Ta-Daow! Yeah Baby!)" You know what I'm talkin' about. Remember my troubles with Russell? Well, maybe he's not a good example. Remember how I've talked about Anthony from high school and Justin from Church? (Amy, you might be the only one who remembers these guys). Oh, and Mark also has his place in this category. These are all guys that I had either a passing interest in or no interest in at all. But I was nice to them, friendly even, maybe wanted to be their friends. But noooooo. They had to go and turn it around on me and want to date me or express their undying love for me in cheesy poetry (that would be Anthony). Because I was nice to them. I honestly don't know what kind of signals I send out when I'm being nice. Maybe what is nice to me is "come on up and see me sometime" to a guy. And when I do find out about their crushes I tend to lead them on because, gosh darnit, I'm just too nice to make them feel bad.
Case in point. Last night during a break in my short story class I was stopped in the hall by Jhon Sanchez. Jhon asked me if I was going to GSA after class. I said no, I have a lot of work to do (but really I'm skipping it every week to watch Angel and I have GLBT club burnout out and I'm also a bad person). So I went to walk back into the room and he says "Let's stand in the hall and gossip for a while," but in this heavy Spanish accent so I could only understand two words out of every three. So we're talking and he seems weird and he's standing a little too close, and through the accent I get that he wants me to come to a party with him and a bunch of other people in Manhattan and go to a museum or something. And I told him I'd have to think about it, when in my head I'm thinking "Hell no." I've talked to him a couple times, always with him starting the conversation, and I say hi to him when I see him in the dining hall. But that's it. I don't know if this is supposed to be a date or an outing or the start of a beautiful friendship or what. So I ran out of class before he could corner me into giving him a straight answer. I have to add that I might go if I were the least bit attracted to Jhon, which I am not.
Last night we workshopped this guy Brian's story, and a line of his dialogue made absolutely no sense to me, so I asked him about it after class. He tried his best to explain it, but I don't think that he really understands it either. And then he apologized to me for the other day when I went into the Humanities office where he works to pick up a story for class. He kind of attacked me in the hall as I was leaving (as he put it) to ask me the name of one of the buildings on campus. I told him not to worry about it. He's a good-looking guy. If he asked me to go to a party, I would say yes.

Chief Justice Marshall of the Massachusettes SJC, ladies and gentlemen:

Here, the plaintiffs seek only to be married, not to undermine the institution of civil marriage. They do not want marriage abolished. They do not attack the binary nature of marriage, the consanguinity provisions, or any of the other gate-keeping provisions of the marriage licensing law. Recognizing the right of an individual to marry a person of the same sex will not diminish the validity or dignity of opposite-sex marriage, any more than recognizing the right of an individual to marry a person of a different race devalues the marriage of a person who marries someone of her own race. If anything, extending civil marriage to same-sex couples reinforces the importance of marriage to individuals and communities. That same-sex couples are willing to embrace marriage's solemn obligations of exclusivity, mutual support, and commitment to one another is a testament to the enduring place of marriage in our laws and in the human spirit.

Did anyone follow the 40 hour talk-fest that the Republicans pulled last week in the Senate? I don't have the words to describe the hypocrisy of that whole situation. I mean, 40 hours to supposedly "raise awareness" of how awful and petty the Democrats are being for blocking 4 of Bush's judicial nominees. We're talking 4 out of around 160. They're all like "You guys are racist and sexist for blocking these nominees who are female, black, Catholic and Hispanic." From what little I've read about these people, they're not really big on the whole Civil Rights thing, especially for the non-straight popluation. Oh, and when Clinton was president, the Republicans blocked 60 of his nominees in the exact same way the Democrats are blocking now. I turned on CNN for a bit and Ted Kennedy was regulating. He yelled about how they were wasting the American people's time, and that they should be voting on bills for things like veteran's healthcare and raising the minimum wage, not endlessly yammering on and on about the Constitution and 4 nominees who really don't matter and who really don't need the extra money being a judge will bring, unlike the many poor people who can't pay the heating bill because minimum wage is still six bucks and change. And I was like "Rock on Teddy! Forget that whole Chappaquiddick thing. You're A-OK in my book now."

Kirsten!!
The Kids in the Hall is on weekdays from 2-3! I saw the absolute best episode today, featuring such beloved classics as:
"Tuesday is not good for the Eradicator."
"Like putty. . . in my hands"
"I'm sorry, Marla, but I can't recommend you for the academy. The spirit of dance is in Nikki!
"I'm sorry I caused all that throat cancer and all that bowel cancer. I was just on a roll."
"I had the pear dream again." "Was Jules there?" "Yes, he gave me the pear. We are lost."
and my absolute favorite--
"When Kathy with a K get the devil in her eye, the devil take this bus and drive straight down to her thighs, yes sir, she be a fat thing, I'm telling you."
I missed the first five minutes, but a quick look on the internet (yes, I'm obsessed) assured me that I didn't miss my favoritest French Canadian fur-trappers ever. Oh, it was glorious! I wish you could have been there.

I'm not quite sure what happened with this post. It published blank when I went to edit the post below. Anywho, Amy, this is mostly for you. You remember Minal and Jackie, right? They lived in the Beer Masters' room. Do you remember the way their room smelled, like old perfume and something dead, and how they always tried to get rid of the odor but never could? That's what Sonia's room smells like.

Sonia's playing loud, obnoxiously bad music (Linkin Park, Usher, etc) and yelling at her boyfriend on the phone. Hmm, must be Saturday. Sounds like she's going to break up with him. Again. I bet he'll be over tonight.
You know, as much as I would hate to leave Tracy alone in the suite with her, part of me kinda wishes that I moved out with Nicki. Sonia doesn't bother me personally, but she throws off the negative vibes like radiation. Yucky vibes.
And I have to write a paper examining two out of three essays that explore why there is no literature coming from the South post-Civil War. A paper, people! Annie, you know my pain. It only has to be 4 pages long, but I want to die. Although, I did have a little realization today on my afternoon walk. I have no intention of becoming a teacher, so I'm almost certain that I won't be going for a doctorate. No more school after this school. So it really doesn't matter how well I do here, as long as I write a kickass thesis and get my degree. I will try to internalize this information and perhaps soon I will be able to convince myself that it is okay to slack off in the literature classes.

Ha ha ha! I love Google. Sometime in the near future I'll be sending a check to Maryland for my very own We're About 9 cd. Maybe even two, who knows? I'm a wildcard.

All of Mare's talk about this Tony fella makes me miss going to see ilyamy and especially We're About 9. I wish they had another cd.

I saw Finding Nemo, I saw Finding Nemo
And the lobsters had New England accents! I want to live in the ocean now.

p.s. I'm Bruce? Yikes.

Taken directly from Demagogue.blogspot.com, which is a great site if you're left-leaning and like to keep up with current events:

To continue on the theme of homosexuality and marriage, the Times of London reported that Queen Elizabeth II will recommend in an upcoming speech to Parliament that gay couples be given equal rights to straight, married couples.

Considering that the Queen is the head of the Church of England, I wonder whether the Anglican churches that have threatened a schism over the ordination of a gay bishop by the American Episcopal church will be spurred on by this latest insult to tradition.

Go Liz!

I had a good conference with Blaise about my story. He wants me to try to get it published, pick ten literary publications and just send it out. I have some more tinkering to do, but I think that it's about time I tried sending something out. Even if no one accepts it, I can get a lot of feedback from editors. That way I can get a feel for what works and what doesn't work.
More on the tinkering--Would any of my other-than-straight friends (and who would that be? you all ask) like to help me with my research? If not, that's perfectly fine. For the purposes of my story, I'd like to know why you told your parents you weren't straight (did you feel like they deserved to know or was it more for your benefit, etc.) why you told them when you did, and perhaps why you waited to tell them. These are things that my character is struggling with. This is totally personal information and I all-encompassingly understand if you don't want to share. But if you do, send me an e-mail.

Oh. My. God.
I was on Amazon looking for a Mitch Hedberg CD when I stumbled across an excerpt from this book by a woman named Lynnette, describing her boyfriend's failed attempt to get her into a threesome with Mitch. Mitch was this guy's protege. Instead she sent the boyfriend, who she wanted to break up with anyway, off to bed and slept with Mitch on a trampoline. And then there's this part written like a poem about room service and sex in a hotel. She kept describing him as shy and sweet, with a little boy grin. Yikes, man, yikes. And my obsession grows stronger.

http://slate.msn.com/id/2091054/
or you can just go to slate.msn.com and check out Tuesday's stories. You know, if they give you a links option, you would be inclined to believe that it would work, no?
Anyway.
It's an article about a proposed "monument" to Matthew Shepard that a preacher wants to put in a park in Casper, Oregon. The First Amendment is a glorious and supremely fucked-up part of our national heritage.

What Finding Nemo Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

It's because I like "Addicted to Love," right?

I watched the lunar eclipse last night with a bunch of people from the Pagans club. I tried listening to the wind, as Meg said, but the down blanket I had around my head made it really hard. We walked in the dark for about fifteen minutes on the tracks of the Long Island Railroad toward the light of New York City, which is about an hour and a half away. Eventually we ended up at this place they call "The Plateau," which is a flat, treeless hill. We passed a No Trespassing sign, but since it was so dark we couldn't actually read it. Meg had us rehearse saying "Sign? What sign?" I found out that Tracy isn't very good with the climbing, so I guess I won't suggest any hiking trips in the future. Apparently certain "things" (i.e. spirits, ghosts, certain inter-dimensional entities) live up there, but nothing bad came to bother us. I brought a Hood blanket to sit on and wrapped my feather bed around me and I was like a big white mummy in the dark. By the time we got there the eclipse was almost total, so we watched it until the shadow started moving again and said "Welcome back moon!" and walked back to campus. I haven't seen that many stars since the last time we drove back to Hood from Brunswick at night.
And then after the moon was full again, around 11, we walked around the campus to "re-set it." It's like marking your territory, and since they say that this is a very haunted campus (Indian grave sites and such) I guess that's a good idea. But I don't believe in ghosts except for really late at night when I can't sleep, so I went because I just wanted to play outside some more. That took about an hour. As I was walking back to my dorm, I wanted to go to the front porch of Pratt Hall to see the moonlight on the ocean, but I was alone and I chickened out about halfway over there. So I sang Ani songs to keep me from freaking out and went home.

Guess what? I lost a pound yesterday. As my mother says, "A pint is a pound the whole world round." I have been trying to give blood since my senior year of high school, and yesterday I finally did it. The phlebotomist (sp?) got my vein on the very first try, and while I was kind of slow, I gave enough so that it will actually be useful to someone, unlike last time. Oh, and unlike last time I didn't almost pass out when they put in the needle. I averted my gaze and I was fine until the very end when I made the mistake of looking while I was finishing up. I had to lie back for a minute.
But hooray! And I got to eat lots of cookies and drink lots of juice. I'll take any excuse I can get to eat Oreos and Lorna Doones. My suitmate Tracy went after dinner and she had to lie down for a little while, but she's okay.

The chair is fixed. It took me about two minutes to figure out, but only because it's really dirty and I didn't want to touch it.

I keep channeling my short story professor's life into my stories. In my first one, he was very pleased that I had a French-Canadian name in my New England cemetery, since he's French-Canadian.
Okay, so that's a little thing. I had my second story workshopped last night. It's about this college kid who, surprisingly (she says with knowing sarcasm), is out at school but not to his family. He gets in a fight outside a bar with a guy who calls him a fag and is stabbed, so he goes home to recover. Most of the story is about him trying to figure out how he will tell his dad that he's gay. The family (his father, his sister, and his uncle's family) is very loving and very protective of him since he is the youngest, the smallest, and he lost his mother when he was seven. So it's not a story about his fear of rejection. And he's very protective of his father since he doesn't want the man (who watched his wife die and is also a fireman, so he knows a lot about loss) to have to worry about stupid people with knives who hate his son. And after the fight, the kid is pretty scared for his safety, too. So, in the end, he decides that he wants to deal with accepting who he is and the consequences that come with it before he lets his father know. It needs work, but that's the main idea.

A couple people said that they didn't believe it was realistic that the kid would keep it a secret for that long, especially since the family seems so accepting, or that it seemed unrealistic that the father didn't suspect anything. And Professor Blaise says, "Well, I have a gay son and he kept it a secret all the way through college and I had no idea. And I've always considered Bharati (his wife) and I to be really open minded, but he still didn't feel like he could tell us." And to add to that, apparently his son was in the hospital once with what looked like a knife wound down his arm, but he said that he fell against something and cut it. Oh yeah, I made a joke about pancreatic cancer or getting stabbed in the pancreas, and his son has diabetes. Weird. But I really liked the vindication of having Blaise tell everyone that yeah, her story is not only possible, it has actually happened.

I really didn't want the story to be about his sexuality or for the main character to be stereotypically gay in any way, because it's really about his relationship with his family. Craig said that he wanted him to have skin care products in his medecine cabinet. He actually said the word "Metrosexual," and I thought, "This character grew up in Maine. There is nothing "metro" about him." I think Craig's been watching too much "Queer Eye."

I have to lower my chair today. Remember fire in the pants? Well I have fire in the thumb. Last night while I was at a lecture on publishing I kept getting this burning pain in my left thumb. I need to lower my chair so I don't have to bend over and lean on my wrists to type.
Marianne, I assume that you can just click on the haloscan link on my or Amy's comment boxes and go from there to install comments. Maybe Amy can help you better. And yeah, sometimes blogger sucks and it won't publish for a little while.
Amy--the poem in the packet that we got in American Landscapes about the whale that was beached and people came and tore off pieces of its skin and carved their initials into it--I know you won't remember the name, but do you at least remember reading it? I've actually been meaning to write to Dr. G. for a while now. I should do that today after I fix my chair.
I've decided to stop eating tuna for a while, 1) because I've been eating it for lunch almost every day for the past month and that's a lot of mayo, 2) it's not very good tuna (dark meat) and I don't really enjoy it, 3) if I keep eating this much tuna I'll probably get mercury poisoning. So it's soups and salads and yogurt from now on.

Ahhhh! Marianne has a blog!! She needs to get comments!!! Jeez, could I use any more exclamation points? Yes, I can!!!!
Okay, enough of that. I did nothing for Halloween. I sat in my room and watched bad horror movies on Bravo, AMC, and FX. Then I had a Smirnoff Ice and tried to read Faulkner. Seeing as he was an alcoholic I thought that Absolom! Absolom! might make more sense if I had a drink in me. And you know, it kinda worked. Or maybe I just didn't care that I didn't understand it.
Saturday night I went to a Samhain feast hosted by the Pagans club and had pumpkin pie and apple pie and cookie dough ice cream and half a caramel apple. Then we watched Hocus Pocus in Duke Lecture Hall. Lots of immature fun had by all.
It was so hot in my room this morning around 4 that I got up and put my fan in the window to cool things down. I'm just going to have to suck it up and sleep with my window open from now on, noisy undergrads across the quad be damned!