Saturday, April 30, 2005

Fridays rock my face off.

Because of the State Music festival, I had only 2 classes today.

Of course that means I had to be a hall monitor for Townsend Hall. And by hall monitor I mean mainly sit in the library and catch up on 4+ hours of cell biology. Ever once and again I would poke my head out the door to say, “If you are in high school, shut the hell up.”

That worked nicely.

I also had 3 hours of choral union rehearsal tonight, but I got to sit by my significant other and discretely feel each other up. Which also worked nicely.

The soloists are amazing! Holy shit! The soprano is a gorgeous African princess. And fucking awesome. The mezzo (although Rachel told me she was a huge bitch) is really good too. The tenor is some verisomo demi-god. The bass is this Italian guy that looks like Fabio—complete with soul patch and long blonde pony tail. He is very good too, although most of the guys who I was sitting by spent the entire night trying to figure out if he was gay or not.

And I said, “He’s European. They don’t have sexual preferences.” It’s true. But that must be hard on the European women. How’s a girl suppose to have any semblance of a gay-dar? I mean, seriously, if you all wear tight red cigarette legged pants, it makes it kind of difficult. So maybe they should hold signs like the people at the Airport. That clearly states their sexual preference.

Just an idea.

Friday, April 29, 2005

Have you no thought O dreamer, that it may be all be an illusion?

Currently I am writing a book based loosely on my life. The working title is “How to lose your friends and alienate people.” Who knows if it will sell in the self-help section. Maybe we should market it under non-fiction?

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Every time i scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it

Do you remember in Fight Club when Tyler Dirdan says, “Don’t fuck with us.” ?

I do— and that is the most appropriate quote for my life right now.

Maybe I don’t tell everyone that I know or have been friends with in my life exactly what is happening with the ongoing soap-opera that is my personal life, but that doesn’t give you the right to gossip about me. Nobody fucking cares what you think, so keep your goddamn unsolicited opinions to yourself.

(Shuffles feet.) Sorry for being honest.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

For my enemy is dead. (A man divine as myself is dead.)

So my roommate has complained about the allusions I make in the subject line of my post.

I am sorry if anyone else can't follow my schizophrenic intertexuality. The sub. line is Walt Whitman. The next line of the poem is:

“I draw near. Bend down and touch lightly with my lips. The white face in the coffin.”

That line has always reminded me of the poem by Heine: Der Doppelgänger, in which the man wandering the street comes upon his double in the moonlight:

“Du Doppelgänger, du bleicher Geselle!” (translation: you double, you pale fellow!)

This poem has always reminded me of one thing. The thing I despise and loathe the most in the world. And when I find it in a person, I put my hand on their shoulder to turn them…and I find that it is me.

Der Mond zeigt mir meine eigne Gestalt. (The moon shows me my own form.)

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

dies irae

It is the week of the show ‘yall. I have choral union rehearsal from 7-10 Tuesday night, Thursday, and Friday night. Although, it is totally going to blow because 400 people have to be onstage, I know in the end it will be a rewarding experience. As long as it isn’t Stravinsky. God…the Symphony of Psalms is Satan.

In a totally unrelated note, today was the last day of organic chemistry lab. Ever. Which makes me happy, but you know, I do like a good reflux.

And today, I just realized how lucky I am to have my significant other in my life. Yay for me.

Monday, April 25, 2005

The virtue of selfishness

Ok, so to be honest, for a long time I had a crush on Daria, Janeane Garofalo, and other alternative goddesses who are marginalized and caustic/bitter.

Why is this? Maybe because they remind me of the ultimate in curmudgeon: Ayn Rand. My all-time favorite misanthrope. When her younger lover (Nathaniel Braden) broke it off with her, she cursed his penis. Seriously, who does that?

Probably my favorite quote of hers is:

“I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant and the sanction. “

Translation: This is the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to the rest of the universe. It is akin to secularism's threat to Christianity. Atheism isn’t a threat to the church; but secularism denies even the importance or existence of religion.

Good old Ayn. What a tough old biddy. Where can a man find that nowadays?

Friday, April 22, 2005

T-R-A-M-P

Had an incredibly disturbing dream in which I beat to death the woman from the Relacor ads who says, “Get rid of stubborn belly fat” at the request of my friend Manda (http://www.amandagulley.blogspot.com/). Does killing someone in a dream count as murder? And why couldn’t I have snuffed someone who really deserved it? Like the Elephant-Christian who lives directly above me? These questions we might never have the answer to.

Went to Maude Vintage today after class/work to find some skin-tight clothes to wear on my date tonight. Really, what’s a girl to wear? But let’s keep that on the down-low. I am a T-R-A-M-P. Maude V has moved out of the basement and out onto a street level shop on Broadway. This saddens me. I asked an uninterested and apathetic employee (yet another Alternative-goddess decked in leg-warmers, gaudy plastic jewelry, and a cropped sweatshirt) why they had moved out. I also told her that I liked it better dirty.

To which she replied ominously, “Oh, it’ll get dirty.”

Animal crackers in my soup!

Had choral union rehearsal for Verdi’s Requiem tonight, which is going to be fan-fucking-tastic. I hear the Italian bass solist Petro Pecchiozi (or something Italian like that) looks like Fabio. If this is true, the $5 admission fee will be money well spent. Do come!

The power went out tonight at U-Place for about an hour. Sat around in the dark talking with Robyn, Eryn, Kristin/Lane, Matt and Aaron. Much hilarity was had over my animal crackers. And that is all I will ever say about that.

Late night craving for orange foods. Am currently eating grilled cheese and drinking orange juice. Alas, it is not a screwdriver, for I have 9 o’clock class. Living for the weekend!

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Get down with the sickness...

For some reason my web browser has recently begun to hyperlink random words. Like in the past sentence it would have probably hyperlinked 5-7 out of the twelve words. I am sure that I want a link to “for” or “has”.

Is there no rhyme or reason left in this world? My computer is like a tourette’s kid who, in normal speech, yells certain words at the top of his lungs. Adjectives, prepositions, nominative clauses; none are safe from his involuntary vocal emphasis.

How does one stop this, before it progresses any further? I did a google search and it told me that Haldol is the medication of choice for tourette’s sufferers. Seriously, Vitamin H? It can really cure everything.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Sashay this

Disturbing alcohol-induced dream in which I lead a football field of cheerleaders in a rendition of “Wash that man right outta my hair” from South Pacific. Don’t get me started. It was a nightmare.

And by nightmare I mean fantasy.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

La caravane humaine, au Sahara du monde

It was fricking hot today.

Spring, transitory as always, is passing just as soon as it came. This time of the year (when all the flowering trees have lost their masses of petals) reminds me of coitus. The expectation and excitement is quickly over and it turns into another animal: blind thrusting.

I hope for a long and pleasurable summer.

Monday, April 18, 2005

I can get us over the border. All I need is a condom and a breath mint.

I have two things to say.

Is there one single girl in the world who doesn’t want to be a fag hag?
(I thought not)

And who can tell me where this quote is from:

“The lipstick was that shade of color you’d find on the base of a penis.”

Sunday, April 17, 2005

the long farewell

Rachel and I walked down the through the park this evening, and had a really good talk. We climbed the hill behind the vet school—it is kind of like climbing the dune so you can see the ocean.

I teased the mules saying, “You are sterile. Do you know what that means? You will never reproduce. They made you that way.”

And then after Rachel chided me and I reflected a bit I yelled over the fence, “You’re not missing much.”

Rachel and I also discussed our love of short stories. I like them because they are so compact and efficient. Rachel likes them because “they are so short, you can start reading them on the toilet and then finish them when you come back.”

To which I replied, “Gross.”

Then Rachel told me about a Brazilian grad student we knew last year that told her one time that reading on the toilet was bad saying, “Oh, don’t do that, it is bad for your sphincter.” She thought his statement was funny because he was Brazilian and he knew the word ‘sphincter’. I thought it was funny because he was a bottom—and worried about the well-being of his anus.

every day is so wonderful

Yesterday Lane, Aaron and I played Frisbee on the lawn of Waters. Hilarity ensued when we decided to throw it off the 4 floor parking level of U-garage while the others tried to catch it across the street. This lasted maybe 30 minutes with us running around like panting, manic dogs. Salivating for a toy.

Of course, in the end, the Frisbee got stuck on a ledge and we came up with several ideas for getting it unstuck. They included: Lane holding me by the feet 20 feet off the ground while I slid my way across the ledge so I could tap it off with a shovel I borrowed from a truck parked in the garage. This seemed like a good idea at the time, but of courses while sliding my shorts started to come off a little bit. And some girls were walking across the street and beheld my gray boxer-briefs in all their nerdy glory.

Lane ended up standing on my shoulders and grabbing the Frisbee off the aluminum ledge, which of course is what we should have done in the beginning.

Giddy (with our prodigal Frisbee) and sweaty, we returned to our home, tired and satisfied.

I haven’t felt that normal in such a long time.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Happy Friday

As I bit into the nectarine, it had a crisp juiciness about it that was very pleasurable - until I realized it wasn't a nectarine at all, but A HUMAN HEAD!!

Thursday, April 14, 2005

The roommate show...

"The first time it is really hot, and you get kind of sweaty. But then after that it is relaxing. [And I like boys.]"-Aaron Hartmann describing his homoerotic tanning experience.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

"Not for the taste, for the protein"

So here is a post that is not about me.

Aaron (my roomate): do you want some fucking golden oreos?
Me: No.
Aaron: I don't want to eat dinner, I just want to eat cookies.
Me: (inside thought): Jeez, there goes your workout regimen.
Aaron: I lifted weights and went tanning today. [emphasis added by editor]

His relentless campaign of self-improvement continues.

I have lived and loved....and closed the door (part 2)

Spring makes me want to roll around in the dirt and procreate. Attention to all my readers with uteri, Ed the inseminator is open for business. Now, who wants a baby?

Seriously, though I am feeling extremely positive today, so I have decided to share. Rachel and I just made lists of things we are happy for in our lives—and it was an eye-opening experience.

Here goes:
“positive things” aka; “things that make me happy”

1) Robyn Worsey loves me as a friend.
2) I am not content with just being who I think I should be, and for that I am strong.
3) Rachel still loves me for being Ed (“and the Ed that will be”) despite all the hurtful things I have done to her.
4) The emotional palate that I am capable of experiencing is an admirable attribute.
5) I am intelligent and diligent, and someday I will wash the muck of Mizzou off of me and will never be reminded of how I compromised my values.
6) I am welcoming and accepting of the people in U-singers with me.
7) I am receptive to constructive criticism.
8) I try my best not to judge myself by society’s standards.
9) I am capable of admiring and appreciating a way of life that is simple and honest.

This morning, (for reasons that will not be divulged to my blog public), I did not wake up at my house. When I got to class with Aaron he told me that he was about to call missing persons and file a report. But he couldn’t remember what I was wearing when I left last night. Which makes me think it might be fun to be abducted sometime. But maybe not tortured. Or have my skin made in purses (read: it rubs the lotion on its skin, or else it gets the hose again), but being abducted would definitely be a plausible excuse for missing some school. Haha.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

How beautiful, if sorrow had not made Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty’s self.

Oh blogspot, you are a harsh mistress!

The truth (as fit for spectator’s consumption) is that my personal life is working its way out slowly but surely.

This Saturday morning I woke up to be surprised by spring, the most hope-filled of all seasons. Really, I hadn’t noticed it coming, but I woke up and all the trees were in bloom and the grass was a bright neon green. I have always thought the hue of new spring grass should be described as ‘whore’. The bright green that says, “I am fertile and garish.” Spring: the rebirth that will cleanse us all.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Guilt is a rope that wears thin.

Other than feeling irredeemably fucked up I am doing just fine.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

A giraffe and a bathtub full of brightly colored tools…(and other surreal randomness)

Once again, my never-ending shallow introspection continues. If you are bored/ and or annoyed by this I suggest you never read my blog again…it is likely to continue for a long time. I am going crazy. But what sanity is possible in a world with Prego caps that urge you to “share what’s inside”? I am not kidding.

Ok, so sorry about the total negative energy that has been my weblog lately. It is just hard for me to feel like I don’t know who I am (or what I should be doing). After all, I am part of the cult of self. Haha. Ayn would be proud.

Anyway, today was just another normal day in my life. Theory class was very entertaining, Dr. Minturn rambled for half an hour about the impetus of genius and its connection to Romantic compositions. Final verdict: Brahms was still a hack.

I went to sell my body fluids to the conciliatory whores at Plasma Bio. and watched a glorious episode of Price is Right. Middle America is alive and kicking! And it is fat and wearing T-shirts on TPIR.

I also went to Booches for lunch with the corn folk and a good time was had by all.

Sometimes when I feel like a piece of dirt, I like to drastically change my appearance. Today I got my haircut by someone new (oh, I know, livin’ on the edge). What is better, it turned out badly. Why would that be good you ask? I am not quite sure…but I like to have a severe and unflattering haircut now and then. Just think of it as my good friend Robyn’s obsession with ugly clothing. (jk)

Work mainly consisted of shelling corn and listening to pseudo-college indie radio.

But tonight I am excited to go to Lane’s concert and then maybe have a few drinks…we’ll see how it turns out.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Avec de vrais regrets, L'appeler par son nom

This post is brought to you by the sugary wonderment of 2.17 oz of wildberry skittles, a 4 hour long afternoon nap, and the new found glory of Bridget Jones’s diary.

Ed Update: Despite my academic and musical life going well, my personal/work/love life is taking a hit. I guess you can’t have everything right?

Sometimes I wish that I came with an instruction booklet. Although this would take some of the mystery out of my life, I would know who I am, what I am capable of, and what I am suppose to be doing. And maybe then I wouldn’t have to inflict myself on other people and ruin their lives.

Love and kisses from ‘Zou.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Self-discovery is a bitch.

Maybe the secret to liking yourself isn’t change…it is liking what you hate in yourself.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Disco dancing, cake walking, friend of dorothy

“I don’t like this forest…its dark and creepy.”

“Of course I don’t know, but I think it will get darker before it gets lighter.”

The story of my life.

WTF?

Last night Rachel and I went to a concert with Micheal Calmes and D’Anna Fortunata and the Esterhazy quartet. They did really weird music. The second selection, a song cycle for mezzo and tenor was, as the composer himself put it, “About homoerotic love.”

With text by Whitman, and a lesbian poet Lowell, it was to say the least disturbing. It was so disjunctive, atonal, and foreign I didn’t know what to think about it. Modern music either seems to me to be absolute genius or complete shit…and sometimes the audience can’t really tell. And we weren’t helped by the singers, who for half an hour, didn’t express one concrete emotion. “I taste for white currants…I could have had gems from India, but with the wind circling around our house…shall we call it white currants?”

And although Whitman was very gay, all of his writing about men can be thought of as benevolent humanism rather than explicit eroticism; just another reason we were all a little disturbed/confused.

One thing I did like was that the composers were actually alive. God, if I have to hear any more Schumann or Haydn I will cut out my own ears.

So I sang in a master class this morning and was told by D’Anna that I may have some gender issues when I told her that I thought the song I was singing was a ‘woman’s song’. And then she told me that she felt that I wanted to look at the accompanist (my girlfriend Rachel) which was a little scary (for someone to pick up on the sexual tension between us).

Anyway, today is the day of the show ‘yall! Our U-singers concert is tonight and I have two solos in Handel’s Te Deum…which I am totally freaking out about. Probably if I crash and burn the audience won’t be able to tell, the orchestra is frickin’ loud. Anyway, updates later.