amplified to rock
Good news for my stalkers: now
Update Fu is stalking me, so you don't have to. I'm still not sure exactly how it works, but it looks like it might be pretty cool eventually. Of course, you can still check with me several times a day if you like...I'm cool with it. And if you're cute, smart, and witty, you can keep stalking me.
And since I'm participating in this, you'll get to see tons of pictures of me (and my friends) soon. If you've got a weblog, you should think about participating--it's going to be pretty neat.
I'm indexing today. Indexing is tedious work, as you can imagine. I'm doing sort of a half-assed job of it...doing a bit of indexing, and then spacing out, thinking about other stuff, daydreaming. I'm looking forward to this weekend, which should be the opposite of last weekend: instead of staying home, I won't be at home at all. It's kind of nice to have a full social calendar, but I think it might end up being a little jarring after last weekend's calm and quiet.
"The butterscotch lamps along the walls of the tight city square bled upward into the cobalt sky, which seemed as strikingly artificial and perfect as a wizard's cap."
And then I tore my hair out and banged my head on the desk about ten times.
After a brief break, I am back, and yes, with mighty vengeance. I'm gone for three days and people email me to ask why I'm not updating.
"The experience and emotions tied to listening to Kid A are like witnessing the stillborn birth of a child while simultaneously having the opportunity to see her play in the afterlife on Imax."
Everyone's reviewing the new Radiohead CD. Yes, the one that doesn't come out until October 2. The Pitchfork review is the only one I've read. No, I didn't learn much about the album. Yes, I only skimmed the review looking for peculiar things to make fun of. I know Brent's probably going to email me asking why I'm picking on his writing again, so I'll just ask here and now: where on earth do you come up with your metaphors? Do you just write a bunch of phrases on slips of paper and pull them out of a hat? Are you deliberately obtuse, or does it just come naturally? Do you talk like that in person? Like, am I gonna run into you at the Dismemberment Plan show and you're going to say something really out there and I'm just going to roll my eyes and pretend that you didn't just say something really out there? I must know.
(I'll have you know that I looked in the dictionary to try to find words I could use that would make no sense in the context of a Dismemberment Plan show so I could make up my own really bizarro Brent-ism, but the first thing I saw when I randomly opened the dictionary was "European corn borer," and that was too obscure for even Brent. I am adding it to my List of Words/Phrases to Use Every Day, however, so you can expect it when you see me. And Brent--if you can use the phrase "European corn borer" in your next review, I'll never pick on your writing again.)
The power came back just after 10:30 last night. I was on the phone with Amanda, who I had intended to call last night, but her phone number was stuck in an email account that I couldn't access for whatever weird reason. It stormed all night. I had to shut the windows, so the house was stuffy and I couldn't sleep. But today...today is just beautiful. Cool and clear. And the weather this weekend is going to be absolutely perfect.
Speaking of this weekend, I finally get to meet Maura, and I'm excited about that. She's having a party on Friday. And Nathan is having a birthday party on Saturday, so it's a two-party weekend for me. This never happens, so I'm looking forward to it. I'm just going to camp out at Matt's for the entire weekend, it will be easier than driving in and out of the city repeatedly.
I have to finish my paper. One of these days I'll learn how to not procrastinate. Until then, it's last-minute paper panics for me...
My power has been out since 4:30 PM. It is now almost 10:30 PM.
Another round of storms will be blowing through within the next hour. It was awful this afternoon. The street that I work on was flooded. I drove through it like an idiot, not knowing that it was a foot and a half of water that I was driving through. And I drive a little, low-to-the-ground car, so I could feel the water. I'm lucky I didn't float away. My horn was a little waterlogged, which was annoying, because I'm the stereotypical "one-finger-on-the-horn" Chicago driver and people were driving like serious assholes.
Reading Cleanth Brooks by candlelight proved to be way too frustrating, so I gave up and started writing my paper. I've written about two pages, and I gave up on that when Matt called. Now I'm back online whining about the lack of electrical power. I have never been more thankful for this little battery-powered notebook computer. And if my power doesn't come back on, I have a good excuse for not having finished my paper.
Autumn is on the other side of the storm that is currently hanging over me. The sky is blue-grey, the wind has picked up, leaves are blowing past my window. It's going to be a big one. It's so dark that the streetlights have turned on. I went outside with my co-workers a few minutes ago, and the clouds were turning. I've never seen that before. It was fascinating and terrifying. They insist that a flock of birds got sucked up into the rotation, I think they were just trying to scare me.
A lot of people see Spring as magical. For me, it's autumn. There's something about the turning leaves that makes me think of rebirth, of change, of new starts. One of my favorite sounds is the sound of dead leaves crunching under my feet. When the weather cools, everything becomes clearer for me.
Here come the sirens...time to take cover.
This is completely beautiful and completely true. I think it's my fear of losing possibilities that keeps me from doing a lot of things. I don't like the idea that I can't just say "oh, made a mistake, sorry," and hit backspace and just redo everything.
For all my bravado, I'm really pretty damn gutless, when you get right down to it. The idea of snipping the wrong thread, to borrow Susan's metaphor, terrifies me. That explains why I held on to Greg for so long after he was a completely lost cause. I was just too afraid to let it go because of all the what ifs that it would potentially leave hanging there, untethered, eventually to blow away and disappear without the possibility for recovery.
There are so many huge, great things I'd like to do--so much potential, so many possibilities--but I find it hard to take that initial leap. A couple of years ago, one of my co-workers gave me a page-a-day Zen calendar, and one of the quotes I saved was "Leap and the net will appear." I wish I could believe in that. I wish I had the faith for it. I can't leap because I'm afraid that the net isn't going to appear, and I'm going to end up broken up in a million pieces or impaled on a pointy rock.
What's silly is that every time I have managed to make that leap, the net did appear. It might have been a lengthy free fall, but it was there and it caught me before I smashed into the ground. So why, then, why am I unable to replicate that leap?
I spent several hours chatting with Aaron on AIM this evening. He's been a casual acquaintance of mine for several years, but we've never really talked. We both had a lot of preconcieved notions about each other thanks to the circumstances in which we met (I was your typical petulant 19-year old college student with a chip on her shoulder and a "fuck the world" attitude, he was usually drunk and acting bizarre, so we didn't mesh well, I guess). We became reacquainted during my most recent trip to Decatur, and he's one of the most interesting people I've met in a while. We get along because I'm no longer a 19-year old college student with a chip on my shoulder and he's no longer drunk and acting bizarre. Enlarging my circle of friends is exciting, I tell you. Exciting! Especially when I don't have to leave the house to do it!
I also spent a couple of hours on the phone with Ray (as in the "one month since I've updated my journal" Ray). Ray is being his usual cute, cuddly self, which is completely frustrating because he's 992.9 freakin' miles away from me. Life is unfair. Well, my life is unfair. Hopefully yours is fair.
So, you see, I am not without human contact. I may be a recluse, but I do talk to people.
Nanette's Weekend of Being a Recluse, Night Two:
I blew my friends off. There's some party going on in the city, some art opening/art party, and I declined the invitation. Part of it was because I was legitimately tired, and part of it was because sitting at home and playing around on the computer seemed really appealing. Oh, and don't forget the part about me not really liking parties full of strangers.
So it was just me and Macster tonight. And boy, did we have fun. I took advantage of Macster, he didn't seem to mind. It was a good date. Macster didn't even mind me talking to Ray, he just went on in the background, humming quietly. Oh, how I love Macster. Love him, love him, love him.
Unfortunately, I didn't get any homework done, so it looks like I have a date with Mr. Cleanth Brooks (1906-1994) tomorrow afternoon. We'll be getting together for coffee and New Criticism. He's not as charming as Macster, but it's better than nothing.
This is all just proof that I can have an active social life without leaving my house. Someday, this beautiful recluse dream will be a reality. I will only have to leave the house when I really want to, and then I will be truly happy.
Online journals are whiny, self-indulgent, and annoying, and the people who keep them are silly, overdramatic, and full of themselves.
Go read my new entry.
