Student matinee for the show (at which I say the annoying kid from the gay boy parties! He goes to Kenwood! EWW!). Went well.
Turned in a draft of my junior paper.
Wrote a film review of Adrian Lyne's Lolita for Malynne from the perspective of a deconstructionist and a Marxist feminist.
Updated the tour guide manual.
Now I'm going to go drink free wine at Leah's showing at Midway Studios.
The best part about today: When I went home last night I had a check from the bursar's office for a tuition refund check to the tune of $270. Hell yes. Laundry, cigarettes, alcohol, groceries, and a plane ticket to NY are in my near future.
Thursday, February 27, 2003
I have again spent most of my day here at The Reg. Although I did emerge for a little while to become a certified CPR/First Aid caregiver to adults, children, and infants. And I also left to eat lunch.
I'm going to be really excited when tomorrow comes and I'm not going to be in the Reg much anymore. In fact, I might not even go inside all weekend long.
Got to the Regenstein by 9:30 to write. Skipped Civ. I have a CPR test in about an hour that I didn't study for, my rationale being "it's a CPR test. I don't need to study." I hope I'm right.
Got my Aimee Mann CD back from Kay. (Yes, you're all thinking "Ew! He likes Aimee Mann! I thought he had GOOD taste in music." You might be right, but it was my high school gay angst music, really, so I have to listen to it no matter what).
One of the actors in The Misanthrope wrote a haiku for everyone in the cast and staff. Mine was something about when I'm not production managing, I'm at the Reg. Which is true lately. But he did forget The Cathedral of St. James (that's Jimmy's for all of you out there that don't know). But I haven't been to the bar since Saturday when the gay took a field trip.
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
I'm at work again.
Still no news about the Metcalfe with About Face. I had my interview for the Metcalfe with the MCA which went really, really well. But I really want CAPS to do their job and tell me stuff about my (potential) jobs.
Am feeling pretty good about my junior paper. It's coming.
Just talked to Bill about the Metcalfe with About Face.
He said: "I've been thinking about you lately."
Me: "Oh yeah? What for?"
Him: "Well I'm going to need some help planning the gala for About Face and I was thinking about you because I thought you might be interested. I've been planning on sending you an email." (or something to that effect)
Me: "Absolutely. I'd love to." (for God's sake, it's called "The Wonka Ball." Who wouldn't want to help?)
Him: "Good. Well, I'll send you an email soon."
Me: "I haven't heard back from CAPS yet about a second round interview. But they said they would get back to me in the middle of the week so I'm expecting to hear from them soon."
Him: "Yeah, you should hear from them anytime now. I didn't know you hadn't heard or I wouldn't have mentioned anything to you."
Me: "No, don't worry about it."
Did he just tell me that I got the internship? Or that I didn't get it but he still wants me to be involved? Or neither and he just felt bad about talking to me about it since I hadn't heard? ARGH! How am I supposed to write when a job I really, really, super want might be or might not be mine and it's definitely been decided but they just HAVEN'T told me yet?
Oh, and another thing: I have an interview tomorrow for a Metcalfe with the Museum of Contemporary Art and I'm not sure if I have any pants to wear. What does one wear for an interview for a theater job, anyway? Especially one that you're getting through the U of C.
Finally figured out who Dan Kimmel is today, as well.
Well, after making such a show of switching my voter registration post-2002 gubernatorial election in Florida (I never really wanted to vote there anymore anyway but figured it was an important race), I didn't even vote today. I knew I wasn't going to have time once I got to campus to leave so I set my alarm to wake up at 7 AM so I could get there and do my business before I had to be at class at 9 AM. But I just couldn't get out of bed until 7:30 at which point it was too late. I had to get ready for school.
It's not like there was much of a contest. No one is going to be able to pull real opposition against Daley probably ever again and he's done a decent job as mayor as far as I'm concerned. Of course the system is slightly corrup, but it's not as bad as it used to be and hey, it's Chicago. There's no way to avoid that kind of corruption.
And in the 4th Ward I knew Preckwinkle would win big, and she did. She got two times as many votes as her challenger. If I'd lived in the 44th Ward then I would have had real motivation to go to the polls.
In other news, my faith in the fourth floor of the Regenstein is slightly reassured. The annoying GSB students have not left, but there are three stand-out cuties that are making it a bit better.
1. You have an ibook and are currently writing about Pierre Kosslowski, French surrealist. You have ear-length hair that is brown, straight, and parted down the center of your head.
2. You are blond and have turtle-colored framed glasses. You wear thrift-store polo shirts. You sit on the northern side.
3. You are tall and have short, dark-brown hair. You are very skinny. You sat in a cubicle.
If any of you actually read this, I am now horribly embarrassed. But I do have little Reg-crushes on you.
'Tis a sad, sad life we Reg-rats lead.
Again, I just need to start leaving Chicago again in order to get laid. Or at least Hyde Park.
The junior paper is coming. It's stressful but I had a productive few hours at the library today. I now have 13 of ? pages. I will have a full draft to hand in on Friday. I will. I have to promise this to myself. I think I'm going to skip all two of the rest of my classes this week and devote myself to writing.
Big decision: next quarter only three classes. And no auditioning for shows. I'm going to try and take it easy.
I'm forgetting little things lately. Like making small spelling mistakes here. Forgetting a belt today, not matching my socks today, forgetting to bring in the list of denied tour guide applicants today. General low-level spastic-ness.
Sunday at 8 AM Miguel and I went to the grocery store. We went to the BP on Roosevelt and Wabash and got a car wash in the drive through automatic wash. Now, this machine is something that I have been fascinated with since I was very, very young. Automatic car washes are so unbelievably amazing. My grandmother used to get her car washed through them regularly because I liked them so much. Now, this car wash had a waxing/polishing feature that sprayed rainbow/technicolor dots all over Miguel's car. It was amazing.
Then, while we were on our way back south and I was a little more awake, I noticed the lake. It was mostly frozen over but very choppy so here and there I could see large wave breaks over the ice. Almost as if the jagged ice was the beach itself. And when the waves weren't powerful enough to break over the ice, they would crest underneath, causing the ice to roil and rock like crazy.
It's definitely not the Atlantic Ocean, but it's good enough for me. In fact, probably better.
Melanie brought my copy of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot from Atlanta with her. I've never been happier walking through wind gusts of snow than while listening to "I am trying to break your heart..."
Oh, dear, sweet weblog, I have been unfaithful to you...
I realized last night at work that a lot of stuff has happened that I haven't written about. I forgot about most of it, and I only got about four and a half hours of sleep last night, so I'll do my best.
First: Overheard (a while ago, actually): "Hey...do you wanna get drunk and watch Jackass?" Ah, U of C.
Second: John Mayer? Kind of full of shit. But also kind of full of cute. More than just kind of. Fleming and I had a little sigh fest while looking at pictures of him on google last night. But seriously, if anyone ever told me my body was a wonderland, I'd be more likely to smack them and laugh than sleep with them.
Fourth: I looked back at some posts from last week and realized that I think I'm losing it. Lots of spelling and grammar errors. Sorry, folks. (I just said folks!)
Fifth: Called my sister while drunk again. It's so much fun to do that.
Sixth: The most gorgeous nineteen year old ever was in my apartment on Saturday night. He's gorgeous. BUT NINETEEN. Joe and I went to my friend Christine's Sex and the City party on Saturday and when it was over I invited a few people back over to my place to drink more. Gorgeous was one of them and he was sitting right next to me, being beautiful. And of course I was up until 3:30 and then woke up at 8 to go to Dominick's with Miguel who, when I told him about the whole situation, asked, "Did you make any moves?" to which I responded, "Um...no. No! I really just don't care." YEAH!
Eighth: The Misanthrope is some hot shit. It looks so pretty. All you U of C kids should come see it (hey, and anyone that really, truly feels like seeing college theater...huh...). Thursday-Saturday of this week in the Third Floor Theater at the Reynolds Club, 5706 S. University Ave. Tickets are only $5. There's a lot of implied drug use and implied homosexuality.
Well, I have to go and give a tour now. But I'll try and post more later.
Friday, February 21, 2003
Every time I hear that song it makes me want to cry. Partially because I am ashamed that I like it so much, but more because it reminds me of that heartbreaking moment when I saw, really saw, on a small tv in Connecticut, the destruction of one of the greatest vessels of human exploration and nobility, but also because it reminds me of that magical weekend that I took off, the commitment that was required of me to say that I can take that weekend off, and the bustling, heavy cosmopolis of New York.
At the RC, working on a Friday night. What would happen to me if I got a boyfriend?
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
Oh my God I hate everything. I have a civ paper due tomorrow that I really, really don't want to do, especially because I just started on it at 8 PM tonight.
Does anyone have a spare $170 that they would want to use to send me to NYC for Spring Break? I desperately need to get out of here.
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
Another interesting thing happened today with relation to Jonathan Lear, the John U. Nef Distinguished Service Professor in the Committee on Social Thought and the College. After the building manager meeting I trudged with dread towards Foster Hall only to find a little note on his door saying that he thinks he might have the flu. All this crazy work that was driving me absolutely insane and making me miserable for naught. But maybe now I'll have time to work on what I wrote for him more. Or not.
First Malynne, now Lear. Is everyone sick?
BECAUSE I HAVE A CIV PAPER DUE on Thursday and I haven't even finished the reading for it. I love, love, love February.
Tomorrow is my cancer-striken grandmother's birthday.
Ruthie has recently introduced me to another U of C weblog, that of Joseph, someone that I do not actually, physically know.
My tour group on Monday contended that I knew everyone on campus. They are, I can now report, wrong.
The Metcalfe interview went superb! They said I did an excellent job. My parents seemed mildly pleased (maybe they can't be too happy because it's a gay theater that's offering the internship). But if I never, ever wake up at 6:30 in the morning again I will die a happy man.
Joe's mom was fabulous.
This American Life was not on NPR on Saturday. All they did was some shit about Iraq and stuff.
I was really tired all weekend.
The Misanthrope loaded in its pretty set on Sunday.
I did laundry at Ann Marie's.
While waiting for my laundry to be done she and I ate dinner and watched Romey and Michelle's High School Reunion in its entirety. I am in love with Allen Cumming.
I went to Jimmy's (of course).
But I didn't get drunk (for real).
I saw Coleman's staged reading of Fool for Love at UT. It was good. There's another showing at 7 PM tonight. If you like Sam Shepard and realist American drama, go go go.
I have so much shit to do this week and I was in a mighty pissy mood this morning but then, somehow, giving a tour helped me feel better (even though I didn't think it would). Now I am in the Reg because a) Malynne cancelled class and b) the Metcalfes I thought were due today are actually due next Monday and c) I have pages to turn in for Jonathan Lear tomorrow and c) I have a civ paper due on Thursday.
The finale of "Joe Millionaire" is on tonight at 7. I simply cannot wait.
Friday, February 14, 2003
Oh, one more thing. The Queen Mother of the Gay Mafia, Joe's mom Donna, is in town, and I will finally get to meet her for breakfast tomorrow morning.
On Valentine's Day, some people get, some people give, and some people work. Yes, that's right, I am in the basement of the Reynolds Club, where I work til 2 AM tonight. Everyone other building manager has some stupid significant other or some shit to deal with. Of course I brought my homework but of course I'm not really doing it.
Earlier in the evening I went over to Asta's and we drank coffee and whiskey and talked. I haven't really sat down and talked with her since the summer time, so it was nice. She sent me off with a supply of my good friend Jim to supervise my date with Joe Reynolds tonight. At least Peter is over at Bartlett so I don't have to be completely alone. Lindsey just came down and showed me this really great bustiere of sorts that she designed for herself. She's going to the Valentine's Day party at Ann Marie's tonight.
I sent my mom an email today thanking her for the York Peppermint Patties and the heart socks and the glittery card she sent me for Valentine's Day. She promptly sent me a really cute reply detailing these conferences she goes to where she rubs elbows with top people in Clinical Research in Florida. Apparently she wants to get an MBA when she's done with her Master's in Health Care Admin. She'll have more degrees and certifications than most people I know here, I bet. Kathy Allison, RN, BSN, BC, MS, MBA. Mom.
The Feminist Majority gave me some Chewy Chips Ahoy earlier tonight. Yum.
I'm waiting for my sister to call me back.
OH! So, for those of you who have been reading this for awhile, I got another email from David from NYC. I also got an email from Phill (Florida boy) about this kid in school here that he said would be "my type" who turned out to be the boyfriend of a guy I interviewed for campus tours today. Small, small world. But, back to what I was originally talking about: PRILQ, Andrew, asked me on Tuesday night what I was doing tonight. Since I was working he suggested that we do something on Saturday. So we're going to get dinner, see This is Our Youth at UT directed by Garth, and then possibly go dancing/drinking up north. Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever.
Thursday, February 13, 2003
My friend Fleming is in the hospital (or was, now she's out) and her play opens tonight. Think of her, please.
So the Neo-Futurists have this play where sock puppets perform "I'm with you" by Avril Lavigne. My friend Heidi works up there and had never actually heard the song. It came on Kelly's computer in the basement so I called up to the third floor and held the phone up to the speakers and Jen did an interpretive dance to the song.
Tuesday, February 11, 2003
Probably the best thing I've seen on the web all day: Gay Coffee. Yes, that's right folks. They're serious.
Tonight I was cooking tortellini at home and as I was pouring the pasta into the strainer the water circled up and splashed all over my chest. Yes, boiling water. OH MY FUCKING CHRIST was really all I could think. Thank God I was wearing two layers so I'm only burned a little bit on my chest. And I guess I'm fortunate that I've gone two years cooking for myself that's the first real cooking accident I've had (except for that one time a couple months back when I set a paper towel on fire - that was hilarious).
For all of you out there who are worried about my descent into alcoholism (which I think is most of you), I have made a decision not to drink on weeknights until after February ends. I know it's sad, and I'm sure Jimmy's will miss my business. But I just can't do it. Which means no more Cove on Thursday, sadly.
All right, for the benefit of my own sanity, here's a list:
Wednesday 12 February: Lolita Midterm
Sunday 16 February: Load in for The Misanthrope (my show at UT)
Monday 17 February: Finish interviewing 20 applicants to give campus tours
Tuesday 18 February: "What is the charge?" section of my Junior Paper to Jonathan Lear
Thursday 20 February: Civ Midterm Paper due
Friday 21 February: Finish reading 90 tour guide applications; big meeting to decide who we're going to hire
Saturday 22 February: Cue to cue for The Misanthrope Monday 24 February: Send out acceptance and rejection letters to tour guide applicants
Thursday 27 February: CPR test AND opening of The Misanthrope Friday 28 February: First draft of my Junior Paper due, Film review of Adrian Lyne's Lolita due, and student matinee for The Misanthrope at 11 AM
Saturday 1 March: First tour guide training weekend and strike The Misanthrope and BREATHE.
Monday, February 10, 2003
SO busy. So so so busy.
I don't know how much I'll be able to write this week.
Friday, February 07, 2003
Peter sucks big cock.
I thought I should put down that my grant-writing skills paid off. Last Thursday I found out that we got the $300 grant from the Community Service Fund. So I'm sending te Mentorship kids on a trip to see a show at the Arts Exchange at Steppenwolf.
It's hard to believe that it's been a week since I was in New York. In fact, about a week ago right now I was in Grand Central Terminal.
I'm still not accomplishing anything at work.
I did very well last night. I didn't go to the Cove but I did go to Jimmy's but I didn't have ANY alcohol. At all.
Right now I am sitting in Bartlett, that waste of a building, working. I could read Lolita or any of the other books I'm working on this quarter, considering that I have a midterm on Wednesday in Lolita, a paper due 21 February for Civ, I haven't started writing my Junior Paper and I have a draft due on February 28, the show that I'm working on opens February 27, about 90 tour guide applications to read before February 25, and about 20 prospective tour guide applicants to interview between now and February 17. HEY! Welcome to midterm time, winter quarter! Hell yes, motherfuckers. Gotta love it.
Although today was payday and that makes it a beautiful, beautiful day.
Tomorrow I am going to sleep in and lay on my couch and read. And drink some DAMN GOOD coffee from the Fairway on 75th and Broadway in New York. And then at 1 PM I am going to listen to "This American Life" on NPR because, goddamit, I want to and I can and I've wanted to for a long time but haven't been able to for a long time. There's a program that I would love to work/write for. It is based out of Chicago and has produced such luminaries as Sarah Vowell, David Rakoff, and David Sedaris.
And look, there's an internship. And look, it pays.
Tomorrow night I am going to see an opening of a play up on the North Side (read free food and liquor).
Thursday, February 06, 2003
One of the reasons that I am not going to the Cove tonight is because I don't remember the last time I didn't have a drink in the evening. Since I've been back from New York I've been out drinking every night, I drank every night I was in New York (granted, I wasn't WASTED every night I was in New York, but still), and last week was a pretty shitty one in the life of JRQ so I went to Jimmy's pretty much every night.
I need to start to resettle into my routine or suddenly it'll be the end of the quarter and I won't have settled into anything and I will be seriously fucked.
I don't know if I wrote about this in the past post about Columbia, but I actually spoke to my mom the day I found out. I sort of felt like I should call her but since I haven't really spoken with her since I left Florida on December 26, I didn't know how it would go. Then Mr. Saunders practically forced me to. So I did. She seemed surprised to hear from me.
Every morning I listen to NPR as I'm getting ready to leave the apartment, but every morning when news comes on about Columbia I have to turn it off. Lately I've been listening to The Flaming Lips' "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots," which is an amazing album:
I thought I was smart
I thought I was right
I thought it better not to fight
I thought there was a virtue in being cool
So when it came time to fight I thought that I would step aside and that time would prove you wrong and that you would be the fool
Couldn't have said it better myself. Is it wrong for me to be so wrapped up in my dis-engagement from EVERYTHING?
Because I feel like/know that I should care.
Ruthie made my blog one of her "UChicago Blogs of the Day" and Aaron gave me a well-appreciated shout out.
I have to say that I'm somewhat surprised, considering that, since I know jack shizz about html or web design, I do nothing for my weblog except for write and write and write. But it's nice to know that people read and enjoy it.
So I'm sitting at University Theater on my office hours and my email is open and the Mac beeps and there's an email from DAVID. Yes, the David. Whoa.
He said he found the note I left in his kitchen and that he thought it was great to meet me too and said at the bottom of the email, "A bientot."
But I did not leave any contact info for myself, so he had to have looked for it somehow. I realized that my policy of not doing much - I didn't TRY to flirt with him and I didn't TRY to get back in touch with him - is working very well for me. So I'll write him back, definitely, but I'm not in a huge hurry.
DEFINITELY going back to NYC in March for break.
And for those of you who think I'm an alcoholic, I am not going to the Cove tonight. I'm going to take a week off.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003 Ruthie writes that I write mostly about drinking. I'm reading through things to check if she's right. Jen last night said she read my blog and that she thinks I'm an alcoholic. Kristy just said that my blog was funny.
Tuesday, February 04, 2003
I was going to write about David and how great he was but I figured it would fall apart and sound schmaltzy.
So I will just let it remain a beautiful memory.
No, contrary to popular opinion, I did not have sex in a cab while I was in NYC.
I really, really hated growing up in Titusville, FL. But one thing that I am proud of, and always will be proud of, is the space program. My belief in it has always been incredibly irrational (when people begin to question it my head swerves violently and I give them THAT kind of stare). I mean, the first shuttle launch took place a month before I was born which means that, theoretically, I have seen all of them since that first one. One of my earliest memories is of seeing the Challenger explode with my own eyes a scant few miles away. So the recent catastrophe has really, really upset me. It means really bad news for my home, where most every boy and girl dreams of becoming an astronaut at some point in their childhood.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Sort of. I'm actually sitting in the basement of my aunt's and uncle's home in East Northport, Long Island, NY, before heading back to Penn Station at noon. I'm supposed to be working on my About Face Metcalfe application but, of course, I'm procrastinating.
New York has been AMAZING. After a series of cloudy, gray days the sun came out yesterday and it wasn't too cold (but windy) and I walked from Penn Station to Times Square and it was so, so cool. And I carried all my bags so I did a damn fine crowd-weaving job. In my time here I have:
- eaten at what appeared to be a Baz Lurhmann-inspired take on an Indian restaurant
- squeezed my ass to the bar of this really, really crowded, pretty hip place called Uncle Ming's on 14th and B.
- met (and later, yes, SLEPT WITH) this really great guy.
- saw Sophie Bernhardt
- bought Dave Eggers' new book
- bought the Flaming Lips CD
- saw the trail of the Columbia disaster in a diner in Greenwich, CT while hearing the Coldplay song "Clocks" on the radio (which will be seared into my brain forever now), only hours after reminiscing about seeing the Challenger explode with my own eyes when I was five
- visited Margo's home and got lost on the way to find it
- managed to find bars where you can still smoke (and one restaurant)
- been to the Stoned Crow, Saints, Uncle Ming's, and two other names-I-didn't-catch bars
- bought coffee from a coffee truck called "Mud" in Union Square
- visited the Labyrinth Bookstore on the Upper West Side
- bought coffee from "Le Kiosk" at 2nd and Houston
- walked past housing projects and didn't see only black people (and didn't look at them with the same gloom-and-doom feeling that I get in Chicago)
- realized that I miss Chicago and it's home and even though I love New York, Chicago just is
- didn't do my Metcalfe stuff (which means I'll have a busy night what with finishing that and going back to Jimmy's
- got lots of people to cook for me/buy me food