Saturday, May 31, 2003
"What I have come to believe, out of my feminist theological reorientation, is that there are not and can never be any final, once-for-all adequate theological formulations. The task of theology is 'continuous revolution.'"
-Beverly Wildung Harrison, "Keeping the Faith in a Sexist Church"
Um, whoa. Kind of big. But also, doesn't sound that different from Tillich when he articulates the task of theology as "apologetic."
Okay. This blog has now passed the limit of its capability to bear wonkery. Where did the bitchy, fabulous, aviator-sunglasses-wearing chicagopride go? Where did the tvwhore/popculturemaven off to? Is she on a shopping trip? Well, she needs to come home because it's getting to be too much in here.
UPDATE: I just heard from Sara from Diotima and she said my what I called "dumb courtship post" was "good."
I should really stop blogging and read this feminist theology that I have to do for Monday. It's actually more interesting than I thought it would be.
The NYTimes features this article about gays and the Republican Party. It is interesting for two reasons - because of the obvious political implications and the attempt by President Bush to show that he "cares" about gay people (which I sincerely doubt he does). Although it does seem to indicate that the Republican Party is learning what the Democrats did years ago - how to court they gay vote, how to address the needs of an aspect of their constituency. I'm sure there are high-ranking members of both parties who care very little about gay issues except insofar as they might be able to court an affluent, largely well-educated bloc that VOTES frequently. And because of, I would say, the political organization that happened because of AIDS Movement, a lot of the political issues that politically-minded homosexuals (men, at least) care about are similar - domestic partner benefits, decriminilization of sodomy, increased awareness of and combat against AIDS. And I think this is certainly changing as people like me achieve voting age, never having REALLY had much in-our-faces consciousness of the toll that AIDS took - in very few cases have people my age, I would SPECULATE, have had loved ones or family members perish from the disease.
The article is also interesting in light of the book review I linked to a couple of days ago. There was a time in the relatively recent past (late 70s/early 80s) when the Gray/Grey Lady refused even to discuss gay issues. Stonewall wasn't even mentioned in the Times and only got a brief note in The Village Voice. Before falling asleep each night I've been reading sections from Felice Picano's journals, which are excerpted in The Violet Quill Reader, an anthology of writings from the "major" figures of "gay literature" in the 70s and 80s - Edmund White, Andrew Holleran, etc., and Picano describes several struggles that they faced to get their books reviewed by friendly parties in the paper. And now they're printing gay wedding (yuck!) announcements!
In other news, I just watched the video for Brandy's "What About Us?" a song which was popular with the kids I taught last summer. At the beginning of the video she is standing atop a pyramid of men. How cool is that?!?!?!
I forgot to post that I bought two more books at the 20% member sale. In addition to the stuff I bought on Thursday, yesterday I got Not The Thing I Was by Stephen Eliot, who spent thirteen years at Bruno Bettleheim's Orthogenic School, which was a part of the university until relatively recently (I think it went away in the 80s?). Anyway, this guy ended up being able to leave, went to college at Yale, is now comfortably, openly gay. For all you U of C bloggers who'll read this, Bert Cohler spent time working for Bettleheim at the School (he once told me he administered electroshock therapy on patients who were thought to be gay - quite obviously this was before Cohler was openly queer), and there's a chapter in the book entitled "Bert."
I'll let you know how the rest of the book goes.
The other thing I got was Sarah Vowell's new one, The Partly Cloudy Patriot. I enjoyed her last one (it was good reading for the drab post-Brooklyn/Queens LIRR).
And, go to the place where I found out about the above link because there's also a hilarious picture of a swastika-spouting sparrow and he lives on the West Coast of Florida, definitely a beautiful place and only about two hours by car from my parents' home.
Elizabeth Austin wrote this intriguing article about the death of courtship. Interesting, but...
She claims at one point that "Unlike the well-established courtship rituals of the 1950s, what we have today is a motley set of individual expectations, most of them patently mystifying to everyone but ourselves."
That is, we used to have rules, now we don't; or, rather, we used to have a generally-accepted heterosexist (of course) set of guidelines for courtship that were OBJECTIVE. Now those rules have been internalized and subjectivized.
But shortly thereafter she claims "there is currently only one broadly accepted rule of courtship: The Third Date is The Date (unless, of course, you're a glued-together-at-the-knees Rules girl.)"
So there aren't rules, but there is this rule, which leads me to think that there are, still, rules. There is still this ONE rule that applies across the board. There are just fewer objective rules. Why has dating become so difficult? Austin claims it's sex, which I sort of agree with. But I think there may be some other culturally-endemic causes (and I don't mean to sound like a cultural conservative here, but really, flirting and dating can be fun and I think that Austin's right: it DOESN'T happen that often any more). And certainly, like Austin, I would NEVER want to advocate a "let's-keep-Rock-Hudson-in-the-closet" stricture of courtship that we had in the 50s. Most of the people that I know are either single or in "proto-marriages" (pardon me, guys). And I can't seem to find this happy medium and am not ready for the proto marriage structure of "let's hold hands when we walk down the street and spend every night together and share our circle of friends and never spend any time apart from each other." That's, I guess, why I don't date, and maybe it is chicken-shit of me not, at least, to TRY and find that happy medium, but I have certainly tried in the past and it's NOT easy. I don't want to be siamese twins with another man right now, and maybe never.
Anyway, that rant was incredibly incoherent, and would make those girls over at Diotima and the super-libertarians blush because of said incoherence. But you know what (this is mostly addressed to you, super-libertarians): dating between men is MUCH different than dating between men and women, or dating between women, no matter how you try and slice it or "consider it objectively." Men and women are, hello, DIFFERENT creatures, and GAY men and straight men are, too. And, despite their affinities, straight women and gay men are different, too.
Wow. I just checked the site meter and this has to be the most fucked-up referral I've gotten yet: someone came to might sight after googling "U of C porn." My page is the FOURTH result on that search list, too.
There is not a considerable amount of discussion about porn, gay, straight, or otherwise, on this page, and the dude who did that search got to read a post about Fox's now-gone Married by America. I called it soft-core porn and must have, at some point, later in the post, said something about the U of C.
The internet is the coolest, by far, yo.
Porn (search for me! come to my page with fucked-up referrals!).
I am at work, so there will be a lot of posting today.
But first, Mimi Smartypants on the return of the McRib: "Although you begged and pleaded with us not to do it, McRIB IS BACK! BWAHAHAHAH TAKE THAT YOU GROVELING WORMS! CHOKE DOWN YOUR RIB-SHAPED McFOODSTUFF IN SILENCE!"
Third, someone (actually, my new roommate) asked me last night how I knew people were gay.
Fourth, I had a long conversation with Margo yesterday about my coming out to my parents in high school and what that was like. Which was a bit of a weird conversation to have, not because I don't like to talk about it (well, hell, reliving those memories are not exactly my idea of a trip to the top of the Hancock Building), but because I haven't talked about it in a LONG TIME. I'm 22 now, so it's been almost four years since it happened.
Friday, May 30, 2003
I forgot to mention that on Wednesday night I watched the series finale of Dawson's Creek, a show that I have not watched since sometime around the middle of high school. Yet I managed to follow along pretty well. It was pretty hilarious, though.
Last night was the first Thursday night in a very long time that I didn't get completely drunk at Jimmy's and stay until the bar closed. That's because I had to work on my paper. Which I managed to finish by 2:30. I'm still really tired.
My roommate just showed me how the "gold box" thing on Amazon works. That is some fucked-up sinister shit, yo. If I got a "gold box" it would feed into all of my impulse buying problems and I would be broke in a heartbeat.
All right, I'm going to go turn my paper in now.
Thursday, May 29, 2003
Actually, this is the story. They just didn't use my quote of something like, "We thought it would be hilarious if we auditioned." But Christopher's there.
I think that this might have been the story that I was supposed to appear in with Joe and Christopher about Tuesday. But the girl said her name was Maren.
So, I never wrote the paper for my theology class that was due on Wednesday. I feel kind of bad, but I also got back the first two papers I wrote for her and I got an A on both of them, so I'm not really that worried. That's the project for tonight - write! Since it's a Thursday, usually I start the weekend-long drinking festival tonight, but instead I have to write about H. R. Niebuhr's and MLK, Jr.'s conceptions of civilizational crisis.
Dropped $65 at the Seminary Co-op today on summer readings (for fun, I'm not that dorky). I bought (this is for you, Andy):
Pride and Prejudice (I think I need to read some Jane Austen)
Revenge by Stephen Fry (star of the Oscar Wilde biopic which featured my husband Jude Law)
The Russian Debutante's Handbook by Gary Shteyngart (who wrote an hilarious profile of tAtu in The New Yorker a few months ago)
Lake Effect by Rich Cohen
Soft Power by Matt Segur (of Chicago's own indie press Ghostweed)
...and...McSweeney's Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales edited by Michael Chabon
My tiny crush on one of my tour guides got a little exercise this afternoon during the Prospective Students Advisory Committee's (the group through which I schedule tours for the Admissions office) volunteer appreciation barbecue. I, of course, made sure he was invited, and then he spent most of the time talking to me. Shared some details about his past dating life when an ex walked by, too. Anyway, I am not quite sure what to do about it because I usually totally FUCK these things up, but Lakshmi says I should go for it. I was trying to deflect a bit and not be completely obvious that I was talking to him because I was even remotely interested, mostly, sadly, to gauge what he was thinking. And he spent most of the time talking to me. Lakshmi (I love you!) said he seemed to be in to the whole talking-to-me thing.
Yesterday I received two awards from The University of Chicago: one for an outstanding contribution to student life (which paid $400 and funded my book trip today) and one for outstanding academic and extracurricular achievement (induction into the Maroon Key Society, which is something like a U of C honor society, I guess). I'm honored to get awards, and especially happy to get the $400, but, honestly, I'm not really here to get them - I'm here to get an education in the fullest sense of that word - my classes, my jobs, and my friends all contribute to that kind of learning, and what I'm really thankful for is that I've had great experiences in each of those three areas over the past three years.
Apparently I miss all the fun chicagoblogger events. Oh well. I guess I should accept my geek calling and go to the next one.
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
I haven't posted since Saturday. I've been busy. But here's what's been going on.
To start with the most recent issue, today Joe and Christopher and I spent FOUR hours standing outside this afternoon to audition for The Real World. AND we didn't even get to go in. Yes, that's right, we stood/sat there for FOUR hours in an attempt to perform a totally nonironic action that we had no intent of following through. But parts of it were fun - we had sharing time when we had to fill out the questionnaire ("How would someone who really knows you describe your best qualities?"), we got hot dogs and milkshakes, and we proselytized to the masses with some Zizek. We were interviewed by two girls from Northwestern about what we were doing there and if we felt like MTV exploited the people on the show. We said we thought they did. We also ran into a student at the journalism school from Northwestern who auditioned as part of a story she pitched to the student newspaper there. But most everyone else was from the Chicago "area" - the suburbs, Wisconsin, NW Indiana, and they looked it! This seems like way too brief a post for what my day was like, and I know that everyone will make fun of me for wasting the day and getting nowhere, but as much as it was annoying, it was kind of fun. Joe and Christopher and I got to be really bitchy, I got a really cheap but fantastic pair of aviator sunglasses, we went to the super-femmy Oak Tree restaurant at the 900 N. Michigan mall, where this bitchily prudish woman couldn't stop staring at the three gay men sitting across from her. We went to Borders (FYI, I took the hipster test from the hipster handbook and found out I am, indeed, not a hipster), where we diagnosed ourselves with megacorporatemedia overload, and took a CAB back home (luxury of luxuries!).
Oh, I have two REAL WORLD connections, too. One: Chloe's brother was in the final round but took himself out when his girlfriend threatened to break up with him if he went on the show. Two: this grad student that Joe and Christopher had a class with last quarter went to school with Justin, the gay one from Hawaii.
Now I am back in Hyde Park, where I am exhausted from standing in the sun all day, working, AND have to write a paper. AND post a response to the Nietzsche reading. This week and I are SO fucked.
Yesterday being Memorial Day I, ever in demand, had TWO functions to attend. First being the UT picnic at David Bevington's house, second being the Fundamentals picnic at Bert Cohler's place, where I ended up talking with Steven Meredith (pathologist in the hospital and teaches Ulysses for the department) and his girlfriend about reality TV and the rapper with the most street cred since Eminem, 50 Cent. It was weird.
But before the Fundies picnic was the UT picnic, which was tame by last year's standards. Last year I was drunk by 2 in the afternoon and didn't stop drinking until around 9 or 10 at night. Yesterday I only had one beer and just chitchatted with a lot of people. Eventually the party headed over to Margo's place where the seniors just got drunker and I just kept sitting there.
BIG NEWS: last night I went to see The Matrix: Reloaded. I had not seen it yet. It was pretty fucking amazing. And the Ninja Turtles references - who else caught them? Cornel West - hilarious. What the fuck, really, was he doing in that movie? I think that during the next movie the council should be composed ENTIRELY of academics - Zizek, West, Martha Nussbaum, Fredric Jameson, Stanley Fish - oh, wait, they're all white except for West and I almost forgot that THERE ARE NO WHITE PEOPLE IN ZION. There were a few annoying things about the movie, most notably whenever they started talking epistemologically and prophetically. But the action was amazing. And Keanu, while dumb, is kind of sexy. Monica Bellucci was hot.
I don't really remember what I did on Sunday. Slept in. Power breakfast with the boys.
Saturday night I was helping strike the show at UT. And suddenly the power goes out. And there are people on ladders, scaffolding, with power tools and sharp objects, and suddenly there are NO LIGHTS ON IN THE BUILDING. And I wasn't on duty, but I immediately realized that I needed to help. I had all these images of it having happened on purpose and people running inside the Reynolds Club and killing everyone and stealing everything. So Peter and the cop and I consulted and basically decided to evacuate and lock down the building. The UT people managed to get safely into the courtyard behind the building and waited. I spent a lot of time walking up to people and saying "Who are you? Where are you going?" It was pretty tense. Of course the typical junior high school reaction was what happened first, which was a lot of hooting and screaming. I just screamed out "All right, everyone, shut up! Now! And DON'T move."
Saturday, May 24, 2003
Someone came to my site while searching for "Nate Berkus, gay"
I'm listening to Leonard Cohen right now and it's a little depressing. I've listened to Nina Simone and Blondie already, and all I have left is Beck and Sondre Lerche, but the Beck is not exactly happy-go-lucky Beck, so I guess I'm going to have to go with Sondre Lerche next.
So because I do (admittedly college) theater-type things, I often get emails about dumb casting calls, or we get faxes about dumb casting calls, or calls for build help at some of the smaller theaters. Well, about a week ago we got an email from a former student (well, she hasn't graduated but she's not taking classes anymore) about casting calls for The Real World. Well, they're coming to Chicago, and Ann Marie and Jack and I are TOTALLY going on Tuesday because it will be THE MOST HILARIOUS THING, ever.
I have to think of a conflict for myself - something that I could market to those folks at Bunim-Murray. Mere fabulosity might not fly; I think I'll need some kind of inner or outer torment. So if you have any suggestions, you should send me an email.
We came up with one for Ann Marie (which I can't repeat because it involves a habit that she doesn't actually have, or at least doesn't have outside the university). I can't really think of any except for the tried-and-true (and so 2002), "Jon, you're deathly afraid of commitment" conflict. But that's not really ever a problem in any real way for me...well, I mean, only about once a year is it a problem for me (yeah, and so far this year it hasn't been a problem at all).
Well, a possible conflict could be the tension between my homosexuality and my desire to go to divinity school. THAT might be a good one.
Oh, in other news, my start date for the summer was pushed back from June 16 to June 20, so I now have like four or five days to kill right after the end of the quarter - should I go to NYC? Should I go fly back to Florida and see my parents (I actually do want to see them) and then drive with Fleming back up to Chicago (SEE AMERICA)?
I'm having a big fight with the computer here in the basement. And by fight I simply mean that I keep trying to login to websites like the New York Times online, where I have a password and stuff, and it keeps saying that my browser needs to have cookies enabled, and I keep thinking they are and that I don't know how to turn them on if they aren't, and keep trying to login. I guess I should do my schoolwork that I brought with me.
But I just put on Parallel Lines, so everything's a little more okay. Someone a few days back tried to claim that Blondie wasn't really gay. I was like, "Um, exCUSE me?"
According to this website, I am worth exactly $1,687,008.
In a frightening convergence of U of C blogger dorkiness, I saw Andy, Margaret, and Evelyn at Jimmy's last night while I was sitting with Sara in the next room. All five of us. In the same place. Jimmy's must have struggled underneath the weight of our dorkdom (sorry if I offend my fellow bloggers, of course, but, well, you know)
I don't have all that much else to say, since I didn't really do anything yesterday worth writing about - work at UT, interviewing people, hiring people for Mentorship, house managing Anna's show, doing my cameo in Anna's show, going to Jimmy's and getting drunk for the second night in a row.
Having a cell phone increases my propensity for drunk-dialing by a factor of about a million.
Oh, and everytime I listen to R. Kelly's "Ignition" I understand even more levels of depravity that are going on in that song than I did before.
I didn't go to class at ALL yesterday, which was something of a good thing. At least I didn't feel too guilty about it.
The Bradwell performance was so great...that program has worked so hard this year, too, and something is going on at that school and I'm worried it's falling apart, but Angie and Jessica and Sarah and Ramiro kept it together. My favorite line in the play: "39 Cent, hanging out with you is about as fun as talking on a pay phone."
UPDATE: I forgot to include this in my last post, but it appeared, as I walked back to the Reynolds Club from dinner with Elizabeth on Wednesday, that Martha Nussbaum's car had received a ticket. There's your theory of justice.
Last night something terrible happened to me. I was at Jimmy's, of course, where I very happily saw Jen and Parker. I had had a few drinks, I was pretty happy, even though I had run out of cigarettes because I'm nice and let people bum. Anyway, the bar's about to close so I move with Ann Marie into the West Room where Lincoln is bartending. We're standing at the bar and suddenly I get all wet. My jacket, my hair, wet. And whatever just got splashed on me smells and I touch it with my finger and bring it to my nose and realize I just got bloody mary thrown all over me. And Ann Marie got splashed too. So I turn around and these three dudes who work at the A-Level Maclab (who are always dumb and annoying anyway) are laughing and swaying VERY drunkenly. One of them had apparently thrown his drink at another and Ann Marie and I just happened to be in the crossfire. So we're grabbing napkins and padding ourselves off and Lincoln, bless his heart, comes over and asks us what happens, we tell him, he goes down to the end of the bar (these guys are on their way out by now) and finds that one of them is still here and makes him come over and APOLOGIZE to BOTH of us. And I was like, "Wow, an apology is great, but can I have $10 to dry clean my coat?" Furthermore, WHAT exactly am I supposed to say when someone apologizes for being stupid and drunk? "No, it's no problem." I highly doubt that I should even HAVE to say anything. So I just sort of mumbled, "Um, it's no big deal, whatever..."
Thursday, May 22, 2003
I finished my paper at 1 AM. Went to sleep by 2. But somehow, either my alarm didn't go off or I slept through it so I didn't wake up until 9:50. I was very confused when I saw the time, but managed to throw some clothes on and walk to campus and print my paper out and turn it in, worried that my teacher would think that I'd been working on it up until the end of class when I actually just slept in. She believed me.
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
I was walking to campus to meet Elizabeth and I saw Andy and Mike.
Then I got to 57th and Woodlawn and who should get out of an illegally parked car on the SW corner of the intersection but Martha Nussbaum. Not just any car. A Toyota Celica. And an illegally parked one, I might remind you. She gets out of the car, walks towards the sidewalk, looks at the arrow pointing east that indicates her car is parked illegally, contemplates that fact, and walks on, eventually ending up in the Quad Club.
I'm in the basement of the Reg write now writing a response for Nietzsche. I don't think I'm going to go tomorrow because I felt really dumb last week, I have a paper due tomorrow for Civ and I don't think I'm going to do anything tonight but that, and there's a performance of one of the drama clubs I help run at UT. I think maybe I'll just get some sleep after the drama club performance tomorrow.
So...the last meeting of my Div school class will be at my teacher's house for breakfast.
We talked yesterday about graduate school possibilities and she made some suggestions and thinks it would be a good thing for me to do.
Okay, I'm going to stop procrastinating and head home to finish my paper. Don't worry, it won't be an all-nighter this time because I've got 5.5 of the 8-10 pages written. And I'll be at home where I don't have internet access there anyway. So even if I do stay up all night, y'all might never know.
Monday, May 19, 2003
Another ridiculous period of procrastination has passed. I'm about to head home, with a stop at Jimmy's along the way for a celebratory drink.
So, according to the soulmate test, there is ONE person in the world who either lives in Chicago or is willing to move here. This man is the man for me.
And people say my standards are too high.
In other news, my $4000 (BLINGBLING) Metcalf check is available to be picked up TOMORROW at the Dean's office. WOHOO!
What's wrong with Blogger? Only half of my last post shows up, and that's all that's on the page!!!
Um, so I haven't posted all weekend, but that was primarily because I was away from campus for most of the time.
Here's what happened:
FRIDAY: At work I had quite possibly the most hilarious conversation ever with a pretty-tipsy-cute-sorority-looking girl. It went like this...
[Two girls walk in to the Reynolds Club and totter drunkenly towards the bathroom on the first floor. I'm sitting at the front desk because it's after midnight and I have to do that.
[They go inside the bathroom. The one with curly blond hair gets out first and slowly lowers herself to sit on the stairs in front of Hutch Commons, right across the lobby from me. She gazes, confused, or at least puzzled, at the sign above the front door advertising a panel called "What's wrong with prostitution?" She turns her head and looks at me]
Her [squinting drunken eyes]: So what IS wrong with prostitution?
Me: Um, I don't know.
Her: Well then WHAT are you doing here?
Me: I'm working.
Her: Oh. Do you get paid for this?
Me: Well, yeah. I wouldn't be sitting here at 12:30 on a Friday night if I weren't getting paid. I'd probably be drinking.
Her: Yeah, me too. So what do you do?
Me: Well, I pretty much just sit here and make sure nothing goes wrong.
Her: What happens if things go wrong?
Me: Well, I handle it, and if I can't, I would call the police.
Her: Do things go wrong?
Me: Well, yeah, sometimes. About a month ago I kicked out a group of drunk high school boys [it's true, I did. Ann Marie was on the phone with me].
[at this point her friend, a brunette, joins her on the stairs, having left the bathroom]
Her [to friend]: Oh my God, did you hear, there are like, drunk high school boys floating around?
Friend: Oh....that's SO lame.
[At this point they pick themselves up slowly and walk away]
They came back later to use the restroom again and one of them says to the other, "Hey, it's that same guy..."
Pretty-cute-tipsy-sorority-looking girl, I love you. Wherever, whoever you are. I love you.
Friends from MN, Fee and Thrasher, arrived, stayed at my place, made (I think) male roommate angry.
Woke up at the unGODLY-on-a-Saturday-morning hour of 7 AM to go up to Boystown (as Deborah might say, wheeeee!) to meet Caitlin for breakfast at Melrose and help her move out of her apartment. She's going back to MN because her father's pretty sick, and it was tough saying good-bye to her, especially because it makes me realize that I haven't done a very good job keeping in touch with her since she's left college. I'm not moving this summer for the first time since I've moved to Chicago, so I guess I need the practice. Fee and Thrasher let me use the car to drive up, which was a Godsend, and also a great treat, since, because there was no traffic, I got to do like 60 on LSD really early in the morning as the fog whirled around the buildings, blasting Blondie and Beck from the nice sound system in the car.
Got back to Hyde Park. EXHAUSTED. Go see the last half of Ghosts, which was good. I could watch Zarina peel a banana on stage and it would make me happy.
Went to Jimmy's with Ann Marie for dinner and then went up to Victory Gardens to watch Concerto Chicago, a world-premiere that's playing there. It's featured in this NYTimes article, which seems to be really happy about it. I didn't like it at ALL. It was way, way heavy-handed and the connection the playwright attempted to draw between Chicago and world events was somewhat trite. Oh well.
I was planning on going out after the show but I was SO exhausted that I just had to go back to Hyde Park with Dave. I went over to his place and he and Heidi and I watched a GI Joe rerun on Cartoon Network (ohmygod I need cable...GIJoe is like the best cartoon ever) and then walked home and went to bed. Fee and Thrasher crashed at my place again.
Woke up at the blissful hour of 11:15. Went to the best grocery store ever, Dominick's on Roosevelt Road, splurged on Dove "Nutrium" soap (makes my skin feel all smooth and girly but GOD it's amazing) and Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookie-flavored Edy's Ice Cream (hey fattie, stop complaining about your weight AND STOP EATING ICE CREAM). Back to Hyde Park for Gay Power Breakfast with my boys. Back home to do some reading, where I discovered that male roommate cleaned the bathroom (bless him, bless him, neither of them had cleaned it since we moved in and he and I had cleaned only the shower and I wasn't going to clean the toilet, which I actually have cleaned before, and the sink because IT'S NOT my bathroom). It's one less thing I have to worry about us cleaning (them cleaning, really) before they move out. Season finale of The Simpsons, which was good, as well as of Law and Order: Criminal Intent, which was not so good.
Today I woke up at 6 AM (AGGGGHHHH) for our LAST program day of the year, the Junior Spring Open House, which was pretty successful. LOTS of people there, and I eventually realized that the kids who are coming to these Junior programs are going to be graduating from high school at the SAME time I'll be graduating from college. Wow. Class today (my Div school class) was good, and we discussed MLK, Jr., and it was a very good discussion. I still don't want to do school, but I love class. What a paradox...
I have a paper due this Thursday on Tocqueville, one next week on Niebuhr, an exam in Civ, and then a paper for Nietzsche, and then I'm DONE with my THIRD year of college.
Speaking of years, I registered for my fall quarter courses today. It was disturbing.
In other news, I have a little crush on one of my tour guides, which is bad.
Friday, May 16, 2003
I've been roaming back and forth between the Circus and the building. I wish I didn't have to work tonight, but I'm in one of those moods that I don't know I'd want to do anything anyway. It's weird...
Thrasher's here. She brought me a carton of cigarettes, which is good.
Today was payday, but I didn't get my UT check this time...which kind of sucked because I was counting on getting almost $400 more than I thought. Oh well.
I miss teaching - today was the final performance of the program at Kenwood Academy, which we held here on campus. I miss having that regular interaction with students and only being able to live vicariously through my teachers as I sit up on the third floor of the Reynolds Club scheduling meeting after meeting over email. Some of the kids are so talented and I miss the opportunity to help them realize it. Oh well.
Congratulations to Margo who's finished her BA, and good luck to the fourth-year fundies who are taking their exams.
At work again. The circus is going on outside of the Reg and earlier today there was a cookout that featured food and performances from all the cultural organizations on campus. It felt like a real college.
Thursday, May 15, 2003
Martha Nussbaum has something to say about international law. Shock of shocks!
hunted by the schedule says also
somewhat mesmerizing to Aaron for fun, and
an interesting enough day. curled up Apparently Chicago became a diet
monotheism, and go to places
like I survived. 6:13
fucking exhausted. But I say
right now. at
least two more
trouble than a
New favorite magazine.
...is a poem generated from my website by this. Play with it. It's fun.
Another thing (this one's for Kris, as well...I forgot to include it last time). On Monday morning, after my all-night writing extravaganza, I watched Oprah because I knew I would fall asleep if I didn't have something to look at, and the always-dreamy Nate Berkus was on. Oh, love.
I thought for a moment just now that I had lost my cell phone, which would have been absolutely me: I have the thing for less than a week and I lose it. How fitting. But no, it was just under one of the desks down here in the office. Whew.
In addition, for those of you who follow this blog regularly, I had a sighting of "very cute, very gay grad student" in the library yesterday. I stopped in my tracks, but, being the ever-suave pomohomo that I am, managed to regain my wits and go about opening my locker like I always do.
Argh, I got an email today from the Registrar's Office about registration for fall quarter courses. Now, mind you, we only have two more weeks of class (yipes! I'll be a fourth-year soon!), but goddammmmmitttt, registering for fall is the LAST thing on my mind right now. I want to have a long summer of work at the MCA and spending lots of time with my friends who are moving out of Hyde Park in June. I want to use some of the money I'm going to make and have gotten for awards to go to places like DC, NYC, to visit Molly in Arizona, to go visit my grandmother and my parents in Florida (cause if we have Christmas downstate like we're planning who knows when I'll be able to be in FL again), to go to NYC, and to have Darren and Megan come visit me. Class I do NOT want to care about for a long time. Although next year will be fun since I only have two more classes until I graduate. It will be chill, it will be fun, I will experience my last year, instead of being dragged along by it. And my jobs are all secure for next year, so I'm pretty set. I've actually even started thinking what I might do after I graduate.
Kris has a hilarious post about A&F models. Thanks for the links, by the way.
I read Charles Fourier for Western Civ last night and it was HILARIOUS. At one point he said that young children, babies really, given their tendency to rummage, should be kept in a spare, separate room, otherwise they will DESTROY EVERYTHING.
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
So I'm in the A-Level of the Reg, typing a paper proposal email to Mr. Lilla. I was going to go to the gym tonight (EGADS!) but I wimped out (there's the old JRQ we know and love). But tonight, to continue my tv-whoredom, I'll be watching the season finale of West Wing. The President's daughter's been kidnapped! One of her Secret Service detail is dead! The Vice-President resigned! We killed some terrorist dude! What will happen next?
By the way, 24 was AMAZING.
I'm feeling way restless, but tired at the same time. I think the fatigue comes from the weather, which is, as Ann Marie said, not exactly "goin' around and doin' stuff" weather. If, oh if, I didn't have to be in school I think I might have spent the day curled up on my couch, reading a book for fun, and drinking tea. And maybe watching All My Children. How many wrinkles DOES Mme Lucci have?
Yesterday was my stepdad's birthday and I am, indeed, the favorite child because I was the first to call him and wish him a happy birthday. Better than my sister, as always (maybe saying this will get her to call me).
So after all my grumbling about hating school, we had the most amazing discussion in my div school class today about H. R. Niebuhr's concept of "radical monotheism," and it only made me want to go to div school even more. I guess that's why taking a couple of years off is a good idea, no? Anyway, I'm going to talk to my teacher next Tuesday and I think I'll ask her about options. She knows more about graduate divinity programs than I do, obviously.
Wow, who would have thought, even since I came here, that I would be interested in going to DIVINITY school? I, who somewhat famously professed to my parents that I thought God didn't exist (in my teens). Everyone changes.
Oh my God it's 5 o'clock. I wanted to be home like an hour and a half ago.
What am I going to eat for dinner tonight?
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
Oh, and thanks to Aaron for the shout-out.
Yesterday was an interesting enough day. I barely comprehended anything in class discussion yesterday, which didn't matter because I didn't actually get a chance to read Niebuhr beforehand because I was writing my paper. After work at UT I went home and took a short nap and then did laundry. Doing laundry is one my favorite things, actually (of course this only furthers my own charge against myself as a domestic biddy). My clothes are now super-clean and smell all fresh (and by that I mean like Cheer). It's also somewhat mesmerizing to watch the clothes go around and around in the washers and dryers. And they played my favorite song on the V103 playlist, Luther Vandross's "Excuse Me."
Then I came home and made dinner. Blondie has become my cooking music...I made a pasta bowl and bounced around to "Parallel Lines."
Monday, May 12, 2003
So it's after six. It's light outside, I'm done with my paper, and I'm about to head home. Catch two hours of sleep, wake up, go to class, turn my paper in, attempt to participate in discussion, go to work at UT, go home, sleep for a few hours, do laundry, do reading, go back to bed.
Update: on page 4. Just two-three more to go. If I sit down and type, I can just fucking do it.
Tomorrow will suck hardcore balls.
FUCK YOU, school. And to think that I want to go to graduate school. A divinity school, no less. And here I am, writin' about God and evil and shit like that, wasting time watching disaster flicks about the end of LA.
Sunday, May 11, 2003
Okay, so I had the night from shit-hell at work, um, where I still am, and HAVE NOT STARTED ON MY PAPER YET.
Yes, kids. Momma has NOT STARTED WRITING HER PAPER WHICH IS DUE IN APPX. 10 HOURS, NOR HAS SHE FINISHED THE READINGS FOR IT.
I haven't pulled an all-nighter since my first year. Because they SUCK and because I know it fucks up my life for at least two days afterward.
I found out, though, that I truly CAN receive text messages on my phone, which was kind of exciting. HANT sent me one about sitting in the airport in NYC with my roommate and his girlfriend. It is a small world after all.
I've noticed over the past few posts that chicagopride is taking quite an emotional downturn. How to get my (oops, I mean its) spirits up? A boy? No way, for they are more trouble than they are worth (I say this, but do I believe it? Unlikely). Alcohol? Yeah, but I've been there. Friends? Surely. No more school? That sounds like a good plan. Oh, but wait, I DON'T GET OUT OF SCHOOL UNTIL JUNE 13! Having my grandmother not stricken with cancer? Um, yes. Not worrying about my friends who are graduating and what they'll do next year and how I'll miss them, which is making me realize the ever-so-tenuous nature of bonds between people? Um, that too. Shit.
Jesu Christe I'm exhausted. Too much heavy lifting, both literally and figuratively.
Here's an excerpt from the email I sent to my boss re my crazy night:
"Everything was going fine with breaking down the FOTA event - we
took the sound equipment back, put it up. Apparently some of it had come
from Ida - I think maybe all they were SUPPOSED to use had come from Ida,
but Joe said he broke out some of our stuff for them, so you may need to
apologize to Bob for me if some of it's disordered. I also don't think
the stuff that belonged to Ida got back to Ida - we might have forgotten
about it. Maggie says she knows what needs to go back, though. We
started taking the dance floor apart and I was moving back and forth
between helping strike AV equipment, unlocking the dance floor, and trying
to move the unwieldy carriage the the dance floor is supposed to go in,
when Raven, one of the U of Hip Hop guys, said that they were
leaving. They had stacked the dance floors in a couple of piles (ours,
the M&M ones were still in a line). He said that they didn't set it up,
they found it there, and the kids that had been helping him out shouldn't
have to be there. I just sort of stared at him, gaping, and said, "Well,
you used it. Well, I can't really STOP you."
Last night had the potential to be a really shitty night - I was listed on the schedule to work from 5 to 2, I was supposed to go see Scott's show, and I was supposed to house manage. Well, Joe showed up at work last night, so I didn't have to work, Tim just wrote it down wrong. And I couldn't get anyone to cover for me at the show, so I couldn't go see Scott perform up north.
So I house managed. And got to see the show again, and when Elizabeth did her part about being in Mother Courage before, during, and after September 11, 2001, I almost cried, especially because she uses Rufus Wainwright's cover of "Across the Universe." It was pretty heavy.
Anyway, the cast party was at Coleman's place. She and Tina just moved to a HOUSE in Pilsen, about six blocks off the Dan Ryan/Canalport exit. It's been added to over and over again throughout the years and there are so many levels and nooks and crannies. And there's an amazing view of the Sears Tower from the roof.
My grandmother woke me up at 10 this morning. She actually called me. We talked about her having hip replacement surgery next week and four weeks later (she's having both replaced) and how her chemo is going. She seems to be doing as well as can be expected, but she sounds like shit and, of course, I worry about her.
So after she called, instead of working on my Tillich paper for my div school class, I watched Saved by the Bell, Smallville, and Volcano. Procrastination is BAD. Now I'm at work and there's so much shit to do here and I have to write this paper. I've decided to write about whether or not one can call something "evil."
You've worn all black since you were nine and knew, even as a nine year old living in nowheresville that you were a New Yorker at heart. Well, you wont make it in the big city. I'm sorry tike. Still, have fun while it lasts, because the rumor is, most Columbia students don't.
Not that I'm participating, but I find this funny:
Item #97: "In honor of our newfound Freedom of Information, inform as many people as you can of the home phone numbers of John Poindexter, John Ashcroft, and Tom Ridge in a massive publicity campaign."
And there are signs all over campus with phone numbers for each of them. I wonder if they're accurate; there's a part of me that wants to call the numbers and see. But at the same time there's a part of me that doesn't want FBI agents at my door two minutes later.
The NYTimes has a story about the Log Cabin Republican "response" to the Santorum debacle (registration, which is free, is required).
I am working at the Reynolds Club, tired off my assssss....but oh well.
And hey, the schedule says I'm also supposed to work tonight from 5 PM - 2 AM (ie, work both Saturday shifts) which is totally not true.
Last night campus felt like a "real college" for a moment...what with the FOTA party at the Smart Museum (I think I was the only homosexual male on campus not involved with the planning or executing of said party - like I need more to do, you know), the frat boys being drunk and hooting up University Ave, and the scavhunt party on the quads. After the party I went to Claire's apartment for her birthday, where I ran into tons of people I knew from my dorm first year, as well as tons of sorority girls (YEAH). Ned and Sara got nice and liquored up, yet I, blessed/cursed with my alcoholic tolerance levels, was perfectly okay. Oh, and I was the only gay man there. But I did try to convince Greg that Troup totally wanted to make out with him.
The annoying part of the party was all the dorky UT kids that showed up. And I realize more and more how OLD I am on this campus.
And then we went to Jimmy's, which was PACKED and drove me crazy. I didn't stay very long, but long enough to see: "flannel shirt, bag over his shoulder. definitely a grad student. very cute, very gay." Kay and Anna agreed. And I'm in love. Did I talk to him? No. Should have? Maybe. Have I not noticed him before? Of COURSE not, I've seen him at Jimmy's before. Will I EVER talk to him? Probably not.
And, as a nice complement to that anecdote, Ned and I were walking to Claire's when I ran into Jen, Julie, Jill, and random guy with them (RGWT). We chatted for a bit and then they went their way, we went ours, and I said to Ned: "Julie and Jill work at the coffee shop and Jen manages the building with me. I don't know who that guy was, but he was cute."
Ned: "Oh, I didn't notice." [Ned is straight -ed.]
Me: "That's because you're not programmed to notice these things. I, on the other hand, notice ALL THE TIME, EVERYWHERE I GO." [such is my curse -ed.]
Anyway, I have gotten a whopping TWO phone calls since I got my phone yesterday afternoon, which sucks, considering that I made probably a thousand calls of "Hey! Here's my new cell phone number!"
Friday, May 09, 2003
So I'm working in the basement of the Reynolds Club again.
But I'm listening to Parallel Lines, which makes everything a lot better. Seriously, if I'm as hot at fiftysomething as Debbie Harry is, I'll feel like I lived a successful life.
Last night I went to see Elizabeth's and Kay's shows, which were great, and then went with Elizabeth and her mom and Margo and Jared and his roommate Dave to the Med for dessert. Then, to Jimmy's, of course. The plan was that I would have a drink and then leave, but I ran into a couple of guys that I lived in the dorm with, and ended up drinking and drinking and drinking until it was 2. And last night apparently Chicago became a rainforest, because I practically had to wade home. Actually, before we left Jimmy's, Chad told Ann Marie and I that **** and &&&& had broke up and **** needed to be with friends right now. So we went over to his place and were there until 4:30. AND I had to be on campus at 10:30 today, so I'm fucking exhausted.
But tonight I house manage the show while I'm here at work (yes, two jobs in one, I know), then off to the FOTA launch party, and then to Claire's for her 21st birthday party. Tomorrow I have to be here at 8 because I am LAME. So hopefully I won't stay out too late. God knows.
Wednesday, May 07, 2003
Just ONE more thing, I promise.
To all U of C people: Some people really SHOULDN'T wear shorts. Understand?
Goddam Blogger. I had a really long post, but fuck it. Here's a summary:
- finished the response, have come to the conclusion that I am a wonkish nerd.
- former roommate Claire's birthday yesterday, happy day to her!
- I hate people who study abroad (because I'm jealous, mostly).
- my feet still hurt because I'm still breaking the shoes in.
- East/West (check my links) is dead. Sadly. Although there's a funny tribute movie.
- I only have to take two more classes and then I can graduate.
- In order to graduate, apart from taking two classes, I must also (YUCK) take PE.
- I am doing laundry tomorrow.
- Blogger just pissed me off.
- I am a TV whore, when will I escape it, how will I escape it, 24 is the best show ever.
- That is all. Time for dinner.
So it's been awhile since I've posted; that's because I haven't been working at the RC lately. Um, I'm writing a response to the Nietzsche reading for this week. The response was due three minutes ago so I'm going to go and write it now and then post more in a bit.
Monday, May 05, 2003
I am not usually a fan of the idea of "best of" compilations, but yesterday at Virgin downtown (where I went after I got my smart new Kenneth Cole shoes via Dave for my birthday), I bought a few amazing CDs. Three of them were on sale 3/$25: Nina Simone's Finest Hour, The Best of Leonard Cohen, and Blondie's Parallel Lines. I also grabbed, for a fantastically cheap $13, Johnny Cash Live at San Quentin.
I'm sensing a drug theme, heretofore unnoticed, to my selections.
THE paper has an interesting story on Leo Strauss's "effects" on current foreign policy. Leo Strauss, meet (and be mauled by) pop culture.
Mystique is a total fag-hag, and the movie was, I've decided, about accepting gay people (well, and black people, Arabs, hey, anybody who's different from you). That scene at the house especially reminded me of the coming out moment - "Have you tried NOT being a mutant?" Ann Marie kept leaning into me during it and whispering, "Oh God! I'm SO sorry!" But Alan Cumming was in it, and I love him, so there.
The lunch on Saturday was interesting, to say the least. It was full of alumni who were basically all lawyers or businessman, and when they asked Sara and I about Fundamentals, they were fascinated. Then they asked what internship I had and when I told them it was at the MCA, each one of them was like, "Oh, art! Wow..." Oh well.
I managed to write six decent pages on John Calvin last night and get to be before 1. And I rawked out in class today, so I don't think she's mad at me.
Thursday, May 01, 2003
SUCCESS! Visit the new, improved chicagopride!
I figured out how to make links.
Now, to give each link a line.
Um, and if I forgot you, email me and bitch me out for it. jrquinn at uchicago dot edu
Um, I am also currently trying to learn a little more about this blogger shizz and put some links in and finally giveback to some of you whose weblogs I've been reading. U of C bloggers and non-U of C bloggers alike.
I just had a post and then blogger erased it all. Anyway, yesterday was good, blah blah. I'm 22, great, whatever.
I got a cigarette holder from Sara, which makes me fagtastic.
Tonight at work I have dealt with drunk frat boys at the Student Government debates, shut off the women's bathroom on the second floor because of flooding (about a couple of inches of water on the floor), and called Facilities Services to inform them about the ladder (What's overflowing? I was asked. My response: I don't know...I didn't walk inside. There's WATER on the floor). Gotta love my job.