PROCLIVITIES

I've got it bad for the troubled boys.

MORTALS

I found out this morning that my ex-husband's mother passed away last night. She had been struggling with ALS for the last two years.




I need to sit down for a little bit and think.

HERE'S MY PROBLEM

Asher said he doesn't care for 'non-ironic bravado.'

*melting*

AS IN HA-HA FUNNY

Here are two funny things I saw in writing the other day:

1. Written with a finger on the back of a black SUV covered in grimy road gunk: I wish my girlfriend was this dirty!

2. On a class evaluation from one of my math students: Stop being an argumentive [sic] liberal communist.

COPY CAT

I tripped into a textile shop this summer in Budapest. They had awesome felt jewelry made by a local artist. I was getting low on cash and couldn't afford the 4,000 Forint necklaces, but when I got home I thought I would try to recreate it. Here are the results:



....In case you were wondering, yes, that's my rack. It will never be the subject of glossy magazine articles, but I won't complain. They get me what I need.

STICKY RICE

Mom's making sticky rice tonight. I loooooooooooooooove sticky rice!

I wasn't, however, always a fan of the Chinese risotto. When I was about ten, my dad forced me to sit at the kitchen table until I finished my plate of sticky rice. But I could not choke the stuff down. Why couldn’t we just eat hamburgers like normal people? Why did we have to have rice all the goddamned time? I heard the neighborhood kids laughing outside. All at once I was caught between my own obstinacy and a deep longing to join them. Soon my brother came into the kitchen, quite out of breath from a spirited game of capture the flag. While he helped himself to a glass of water he looked upon me with rare pity. I was sitting in the company of my dinner plate, kicking the leg of the kitchen table. He was suddenly struck with a brilliant idea: Why not take a paper bag, dump the sticky rice in it, and hide it underneath the house? A capital idea! I did exactly that. And we stayed outside and played until our parents called us in after sunset.

Early the next morning, my dad woke me up with a few firm jabs to the shoulder. He told me to go out into the front yard. I was groggy with sleep, so without thought I followed his directions. As soon as I opened the screen door, I suddenly realized why I was standing there. Some animal had gotten into the paper bag and tore it open. There was sticky rice all over the front yard! There were mushrooms on the sidewalk, bits of pork in the flowerbed, and chunks of Chinese sausage near the fence. I was instructed to pick up every single grain of rice, which in my mind, was still better than having to eat it the night before.

IT'S TRUE WHAT THEY SAY

Today my dad, brother and I went to a nearby state park and enjoyed Global Warming for the afternoon. Oh Global Warming, you sure do make things nice and toasty! It was 52 degrees when it should have been about 28 degrees. God Bless you Global Warming, God Bless!

POOR TURKEY

Poor, delicious, juicy turkey.

RE: PREVIOUS POST

That was a formal letter of resignation (in case you were wondering).

I wrote it at a coffee shop and left it in Asher's mailbox yesterday. From back here it's quite obvious it never would have worked out between us, but fuck all, he was so cute!* My friend Pollen called when I got home. I told him all that had happened and then I told him it was okay, because I stopped off at the liquor store on the way home. He worried, 'oh are you going to try and drown your sorrows?' I replied, 'No! I'm not going to try and drown anything! I am going to drown them...Little Fuckers.'

OH HEY! I hope y'all have yourselves a real happy Thanksgiving!

* This is a coltish remark. Actually I was attracted to much more than his handsome nose, his freckles, his crazy-curly hair, and his lissome, pale, svelte body. Oh my god, did I just go on like that? How could you let me go on like that??

THAT'S ALL SHE WROTE

If life were a road trip through the southwest Asher, we would be perfect for each other...

STEP ONE: REMOVE HEAD FROM ASS

Note to the ignoramuses forwarding campus-wide emails claiming Bill Gates will give $245 to each person they forward the aforementioned email to: Cut that shit out! It's not true. Any email that starts with the phrase, "My brother's girlfriend got a check for $4,324.44..." Delete it!

I did. About seven times today.

REDWALL

Here are the results of that painting project I mentioned over a month ago. In doing it, I realized I don't know anything about painting, but I love the sound of a brush on canvas! Mmmmm.

CONFESSIONS

My friend (he's a warbler) turned 30 last Tuesday. But I am such a heel. I did not bring a gift to his party last weekend! So this morning I got up early and biked from gifty shop to gifty shop in search of the perfect gift. I bought a pack of pencil toppers in the shape of variety meats, a note pad that has a heading "Hey, Shithead..." and a book titled Confessions: Shameful Secrets of Everyday People. It is hilarious! Here are some of my favorites:

"Some years ago, I went to a party at the county governor's residence. One of the rooms there serves as a home away from home for some senator. My friend and I rubbed our dicks on his pillow."

- Martin, Military

"Oh no! I did it again. I can't not do it. I was at a friend's flat today and when she had to go to the loo, I jumped at the opportunity to read her diary. I've read a lot from it and know just about everything about her and her boyfriend. I know that she's cheated on him and more dirt like that. It feels fucking great to read other people's diaries. Do it!"

-Jenny, Student

"I have a disgusting habit. When I'm in bed and I fart, I pull the covers over my head and smell my own gas."

-Aaron, Security Guard

"When I'm in someone's home, regardless if it's a friend, family or strangers, I take scissors and cut off some of my pubic hair and hide it in a weird place in the house. I don't know why I do it, but I can't stop."

- Frida, Artist

"I went down to a local construction site one night and moved around some of their markers...a few yards here and there. The next day they dug up a telephone line and a heating power line."

-Marty, Student

"Last week I got my hands on someone's credit card number online and used it to buy bootleg alcohol to send to the Jehovah's witness across the street from me."

-Thieven' for Jesus

"I've had sex with the calves at my farm."

-Anonymous Animal Lover

And the best part is that I can add my own confession at the end. I can confess that the book is used, since I read the whole thing before giving it to him. He'll like that.

MY FIRST SHABBAT

Asher is Jewish. But I'm so blunt when it comes to ethnic cues, when I first met him I thought he was Irish. He does not go to synagogue and he is horrible with money, but he did take me out to see Franz Kafka’s “Amerika” when we first started dating and he really likes He’Brew beer.

The Shabbat hostess is Asher’s old friend. She's a converted Jewess. I have not asked her why she decided to convert, but I have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the fact that she is also trying to snag a Jewish husband. And by “snag” I mean, with chicanery and ether and ropes and duct tape.

USER PROFILE

Last night while consuming popcorn and beer for dinner, I was inspired to complete my user profile. So now I am linked to heaps of strangers who enjoy reading Alice in Wonderland and listening to Morphine while cogitating Yeast. Wow. a) Nothing is original and b) What a curious tribe we construct.

I remember reading The Human Zoo by Desmond Morris a couple years ago. The author spoke at length about how we humans evolved in small communities and although we now live on a planet inhabited by over 6.5 billion, we secretly yearn for the old days. That’s why people subscribe to magazines like “modern schnauzer” and “extreme ironing.” Because everyone longs to feel like they are apart of a tribe; where Sam knows Mary, who knows Henry, who knows Borris. And each person is unique and important.

Yes, even you Borris.

WHOA, CHECK OUT MY KEEL

Daaaaaaaang! I don't know if it's the St. John's Wort or a placebo effect, but my keel lately has been really, well, even.

VAN GOGH'S BEDROOM

If I could climb into any painting this very moment, it would be Vincent van Gogh's, The Bedroom at Arles. I bought a postcard when I was at the Van Gogh Museum in Holland this summer and I have it taped just above my desk at work.



I bet it smells really nice in that room...

ONE WEEK LEFT

You know the end of the quarter is near when the instructors start doing that evil ventriloquist thing with their students, when they talk through clenched teeth and say things like: Figure it out on your own!

THIS WASTED LIFE

So I’m making my bed today around 5:00 PM when I find this sticky spot in the sheets. Only, it’s not a yummy-sexy-sticky. It’s more like a high-fructose-corn-syrup-sticky. I turn my blankets inside out in search of the source when I’m suddenly confronted with the confectionery culprit: A Jr. Mint mashed into one of my pillows. Then I remember coming home late last night (oh somewhere between 1:30 and 2:00 AM) thinking to myself, “Boy I’d sure like me some Junior Mints!” The poor little guy probably tried to escape, only to be crushed by my boozed body. What a wasted life.

NOTHING HAPPENED HERE!

It's actually the 12th, but we're going to pretend like it's the 11th, Kay!? Eh man, am I drukn! I somehow managed to bike home two miles on a muthafuckin prayer! It was my friend's 30th birthday party and I won a whoppie cushion for 'best e-vite reponse.' It alraedy has two holes in it. Cheap Wallgreens, gerrrrrrr! My room keeps doin the dizzy-dizzy, so I gotta sign off now. I love...


zonk!

Nunnathisisgonnamakesensetomorrow.

COMPULSIVE PICKER

I have this student, J. He's a good kid. He does well in class and all that, but he is a nose picker. With gusto. What impresses me the most is how unabashed he is about his vice. Just yesterday I was prancing around the podium, lecturing passionately about first degree linear equations - as I am wont to do - and when I looked up all I could see was J trying to touch his brain. And he just stared right back at me, mid pick! He didn't pull his finger out and pretend like we didn't just share that moment. He just kept up poking himself in the head!

You gotta give him credit for that, I suppose.

HORST CAME IN MY HAIR

I’m not much of a girly girl. I mean, I shave my legs and wear a bra but I don’t paint my nails or own a handbag or squeal about the ‘products’ I use. Remember, I’m a socialist’s daughter. If my body soap, shampoo, and conditioner could come in one gray, label-less bottle issued from the government, it would. I like to feel comely, saucy even, but I do not like fuss. To hell with you fuss!

So yeah. I bought some leave in conditioner from Aveda a few weeks back. It smells like berries and bark and flower extract and butterfly wings and everything you would expect their stuff to smell like. And that’s fine. But it looks just like jizz. The color and consistency is spot on! So whenever I use this stuff after a shower, I always pause and laugh to myself, because it looks like someone spooged in my hand. And then I laugh even more because I'm smearing it in my hair. What can I say. I'm immature like that.

BALLOT BLUES

Well kittens, I voted yesterday. I'm not a total cynic. However, my eyes did not well up with tears nor did my heart burst with patriotism like the people being interviewed on the radio when I got home. You know who I'm talking about; the folks who were waiting in line half an hour before the polling stations opened. Who are those people? They were the ones sitting up straight (like they had a flagpole up their arse) when you were studying the Gettysburg Address in 5th grade, that's who. Me? I was in the back row taking hits off a mini tube of toothpaste while drawing chunky cartoon heads on my desk.

PROCRASTINATION

I still haven't changed my clocks back an hour. Perhaps I like the idea of having an extra hour. Or else I'm just too lazy to climb up on my kitchen table and twist that insufferable little dial. I practically need a fine pair of tweezers and a dissecting microscope to adjust that fool thing.

A PRAYER TO ST. JOHN

This weekend I went to a natural foods store that specializes in holistic healthcare and homeopathy. I bought a vial of white musk (for my funk) and a vial of St. John's Wort (for my other funk). People say John's Wort can treat mild depression. I actually have no great expectations for the little yellow flower. I just wanted a good excuse to own an amber vial w/ dropper.

SIRENS

You know what's weird? Sirens. I hear them all the time. Police sirens, ambulance sirens, fire engines; they scream through the city nonstop. And usually when I hear them, I think about how loud and obnoxious they are. Rarely do I ever think about the people they are rushing to save. Next time you hear a wailing siren, imagine chaos and trauma. Imagine human lives permanently changed.

Or don't.
Whatever.

BRUISED

Yesterday, on the way home from the grocery store I fell off my bike.

I bruised:

1. my avocado
2. my knee.

APPARENTLY, SOMEONE'S OFF THEIR MEDS

I just checked my phone message here at work. One message was from my friend Jane. Another message was from K, a student who missed class and wanted to make up a test. The third was a crank call. The person on the phone had this insanely high pitch voice. It said, "Um Wren, you are a shampooed scum suuuuck! You! Are! A Shampoooooed! Scum! Suck! Get a life and do what your fucking parents want you to do! Little freak!"

I am laughing the whole time I'm listening because a) both content and delivery are hilarious and absurd, and b) I have caller id. I immediately write the phone number down and dial it. Some groggy voice answers:

HIM: "Who is this?"
ME: "I was about to ask you."
HIM: "J"
ME: "J who?
HIM: "J.D."
ME: "Oooh! Okay, thanks." *click*

I know J.D. He's was my student about a year ago. Nice guy, but he has got a serious case of OCD. He once told me he stayed up all night trying to work out a math problem I had assigned. I told him he should never do that again. No math problem I assign is worth staying up all night for. I run into him here and there and we always say hello. Sometimes he's acting like a normal person and sometimes he acts like he forgot to take his meds. The man's got demons though. Like fire-y, red, cloven hoofed demons.

DENIAL AND CHOCOLATE COVERED MINTS

Today was so great. Two of my morning classes were canceled so I went running instead. I ran six miles in 46.48 min. Man, was I feeling energy! Then I went into work and taught three afternoon classes. After work, I biked through downtown to a coffeeshop and corrected papers for about three hours. When I got home, sixish, I was ready for some down time.

A little after ten o'clock I spoke to Asher on the phone. I found myself asking him all these deep brooding questions. He asked me if I was ok. More specifically he asked, "are you sad?" I said, "Oh no no, I'm great!" Then I hung up the phone and realized I had just spent the last four hours watching consecutive episodes of Six Feet Under on DVD all the while consuming 4/5th a bag of York Peppermint Patties. My bed was littered with little silver wrappers. All of the sudden it hit me: I wasn't "great" at all. I was so. fucking. depressed.

I started sobbing.

The whole thing was actually kind of funny. In that tragically human sort of way.

FLAMING HOOPS

My goal is to get into graduate school before I turn thirty. This means I have one year and two months. Holy shit, can that be right? In fourteen months I turn thirty! Hold on a sec while I breathe into this paper bag.

...

So. In order to accomplish this goal I have to jump through that famous flaming hoop: the GRE. I have been studying the verbal part of this test for about two years now, and by that I mean when I get really bored, I take my BIG RED dictionary to a coffee shop and write words down. But now I'm studying in earnest. I even took my first practice test last week. I have awful anxiety about standardized tests, but I really have to try. In order to get motivated, I'm going to come up with a few sentences every day that are built around common GRE words. I will write them here for you. I will try to keep it interesting, but you know, there's only so much one can do with words like circumlocution.

Oh I do hope I can conquer this test! I hope I can cut the mustard. Say, why is it a good thing to cut mustard but a bad thing to cut cheese? Who gets to make that stuff up?