Squalor

When I signed on to live in an all-girls apartment, I didn't know that I should have packed my cleaning supplies. This place is prime Lincoln Park real estate that a series of landlords have pretty much forgotten. Lots of woodpaneling, a fridge older than me, and a perma-clogged shower. That is the fault of the landlord. The fact that this place has not seen the business end of any cleaning implements in months is the fault of the 4 girls who live here. It's disgusting!

I never knew I would ever be the neat freak of the house. Which has to tell you something about this house. I finally broke down this morning and decided that if I was going to live here, it was going to be less disgusting. They have a variety of vacuums, swiffers and such, which makes it even funnier that none of them have ever been put to use. Well, the vacuum doesn't work. The dustbuster charger is missing. The tub is treacherous for all the soap slime. And the one girl who is still here insists that she doesn't know how to work the dishwasher so she just hand washes her dishes. Which is suspicious, since a) there is a pile of dishes in the sink that aren't mine, and b) there isn't a sponge in the house.

I need to just block out the filth and do my work. Maybe I will just pack up and go to the library.

Gainfully unemployed

These temp agencies are driving me crazy. I feel like they are really jerking me around. The big reason I am paying double rent this month is because I thought I would be able to get enough temp gigs to justify it. Right now, is "slow". I mean, isn't this the time of year to call in sick to shop or loaf or actually be sick?

On one hand, it's nice to have so much down time to do my reading in jammies, on the other, money is pretty nice too.

Today just pissed me off. I was supposed to have 8 hours of transcription. But when I was 2 stops away from my assignment, I get a call from my agency, saying that they didn't have work for me. Yet. Conveniently, I was on the Brown line, so I just circled home. Then at 11.30, I get a call asking me to come back in and stay late. I am trying to be accommodating, so I jump on the train again. This time they had work, except that it was one 10 minute tape, which took me about an hour. And they MIGHT have work to do tomorrow. Meanwhile, I had to turn down another gig.

All I want is someone to go out with and get a beer. Instead, I will be camped out on the couch, reading and eating black beans and rice.

Bad outweighs the good

Although the balance of good/bad isn't looking so good, it has still been a pretty good couple of days. Got to walk around LP running errands and amusing myself while getting the oil changed. Prowled the aisles of Trader Joes. They have some amazing all-natural juice, but with the 12% juice tax, I think I will wait until I get back to VA. Technically it's a "soft-drink" tax, but it includes anything non-alcoholic, sealed and ready-to-drink. Grr.

Oil change people offered to rotate my tires until they realised I really need knew tires, rendering a rotation pretty moot. The next time I will be able to put that kind of cash into my car will be in June when its paid off. Or when I decide to max out the Visa.

Today I went to the library downtown with a long list of awesome books. Only to learn they are all reference books. And the copier is such a rip at 15cents a copy. But because they are reference, I can't run them to the local Kinkos and copy them at half that. But I found enough books to keep me busy.

I have a primo parking space, which is convenient since I got locked out of my house yesterday. I can't open one of the locks, which is the one they locked. Grr.

Finally got a temp gig for tomorrow, which means no more loafing around in my jammies and new gym socks.

Watching some toob before tackling the stack of books again.

Back in Chicago

Back in Chicago and it feels so good.

Took a leisurely pace packing and driving. 7 hours can be really long for someone with such a short attention span, but once I passed Dayton, I got into the groove. And how cool is it that my mental map of Chicago instantly kicked back in. Knew to take the LSD, the order of the streets, everything.

Crashed at Kallisti's since I got into to town so late. There was 312 chilling in the fridge before we walked over to Long Bar for some Delirium on tap! Moved into my place this afternoon. The girls are very nice, but the house is a standard-issue undergrad apartment. Mismash of furniture and dishes. I have my own room with a huge closet and a queen sized mattress on the floor. But the house seems super-toasty, which means I don't have to bust out the space heaters that the Domestic God lent me. Did some grocery shopping to pick up the Honey Wheat pancake mix I like. And parked my car on my old block because I automatically knew that it was not 143 parking!

I know it's only been 3 months, but given how much has happened since, it feels much longer. At the same time, the weirdest part of it is how very not weird it all is.

Tour de Couch

In less than a week, I slept on 4 different couches. Well, I actually got to sleep on my old bed at Casa la Cotton, but that was after crashing on my couch, my parents' long couch, and Domestic God's leopard print couch.

It was fun to hang out with the familiar people and eat very well. And do some fun driving. Not the 6 hours to NoVA, but the 2 hours down 29, anything on 20, bumming around Charlottesville, and even the trip back to Athens wasn't so bad. I discovered a new happy place: driving down 20S to Scottsville. windows down. sunroof open. clear and sunny. the smell of fall. no cars in front of me. listening to one of my favorite bands on my favorite radio station. So if I ever get a wistful glaze on my face, that's where I am. It's actually the first happy place that didn't involve another person.

Of course 20 isn't all bliss. There was fodder for a great round of roadkill bingo. Standard issue squirrels and deer, 2 skunks and a wooden desk.

Had my 5th Thanksgiving with Casa la Cotton, which this year included Pitsnoggle, a 2 year old with a clear voice and big vocabulary. So cute. Lots of banishing of the PFM to "naughty chair", which had all the rest of us in hysterics. This was after spending all Wednesday "helping" Domestic God prepare an ungodly amount of food. Helping mostly consisted of a couple supply runs, sampling and food prep till I cut my finger. And of course, the moral support and reminder that 3AM is no time to start 2 pies, especially after preparing 6 other dishes, including a divine-smelling torte.

Last night, to fully embrace food coma, PFM, Dad2 and I tortured the cats and watched a movie before I skipped out on Squidbillies to do some reading. Earlier, we took the dogs for a walk, mostly to watch Sonya porpoise and frolic through huge leaf piles.

So I ate well, spent more money than I should have at Target, did alot of driving, and spent some quality time clowning around. Did minimal reading, but it was nice to have a vacation of sorts.

on the tube: "What Not to Wear"

Oh Tarzhay

After months in exile, I finally got to go back to a Target. And it felt so good. Admittedly, it would have been more fun if I actually had money to spend. But I did have things to spend it on. Nothing too thrilling, but the simple act of buying them at Target made things like razors, advil and mittens pretty exciting. And I am now the proud owner of Modal pants, which is possibly my favorite fabric. I have tomato colored sheets of Modal. It has a gorgeous drape, super soft.

Finally got my car inspected, having been out of state for over 18 months. Didn't make it for an oil change. Heading down to Charlottesville tomorrow.

music: the Fashionista's ring tone and SVU.

From one couch to another

Call it a change of scenery. I have transplanted myself from my red couch to my parents' super-long blue couch. The difference besides color is that one house has beer and the other house has food. And TiVo and laundry. So now I am doing exciting things like 6 loads of laundry and balancing my checkbook. But tomorrow, I finally get to go to a Target.

The drive is exactly one tank of gas and 6 hours of time. Unfortunately, that's alot more attention span than I generally have.

Slackitude

Since rolling back into my apartment at 3.30PM on Friday, after doing 270 grades, I have been pretty much perma-pj-ed and surgically attached to my couch. It has been awesome.

No more grilled cheese sandwiches at 4AM! No more tripping over library books. No more pots of coffee! For right now.

Grades: The final looked alot better than the midterm. There was one kid who didn't bother to show up, probably because he knew nothing could save him now. People are actually allowed to fail here, unlike some schools I know. And the grades all average out about right.

Library: Infinitely satisfying to drop off 32 books. Less satisfying - schlepping up the Hill with them.

Just chillin': Friday night, after long naps for both of us, the other MA and I ate nachos and watched Frida. Because that was about all either of us was really capable of, having oatmeal for brains and still recovering from levels of sleep deprivation. I am currently trying to put myself back on a more normal, less grad student schedule, but it's not working so well. Yesterday, I hung out with a couple of the designers. Saw Darjeeling Limited and Dan in Real Life (through which we snarked heartily) because it's wicked cheap to see movies in this town. Made a trip to Donkey, where we inevitably ran into more people. And we represented the SOT at our favorite bartender's last night at the Gator.

Now, I have to do dishes and clean the bathroom, and probably take a nap before heading out. Unless I just become an uber-slacker, and wait till tomorrow morning.

on iTunes: "Walk or Ride" - The Ditty Bops

Done

Weighing in at 15.5 pages, 5316 words and 22 citations, "Is Feminism Possible in Theatre of the Absurd" has finally been wrought.

I hate Pinter. And I'm going to bed.

on Pandora: "The Crash" - The Working Title

What you wish for

Small things make all the difference.

As I trudged up the Hill to the library to check out yet MORE books for this paper, I learned that during finals week, the stacks are open until 2AM. It's not 24/7, but it is pretty impressive.

Likewise, Donkey, a way-cool, Mudhousesqe coffee shop is open 24/7 during finals week! I may be making a 2AM, post-library run.

All I need is that diner....

Oh, and the other day, I saw a girl walking what at first appeared to be a rat dog, but turned out to be a bunny! In a sweater! I'm so jealous!

Rant now, compose later

Maybe if I get the text out of my system on my blog, it won't end up in my paper. And since the other MA wimped out by 1AM, my option is pretty much this.

I HATE Pinter. I also hate accidentally feeding the patriarchical approach in my writing. I hate that people can't follow my line of logic, which makes perfect sense. To me. I also hate rewriting and not being able to find a citation for a kickass idea/quotation. Not helpful, but not on the hate list - not actually formally knowing feminist theory, which would be damn helpful right about now. My advisor says I don't need to own it, but just borrow it. Also a bummer - the library is not 24/7 when I need it most (to read up on said feminist theory, Keyssar, etc). Hate page minimum when I have said all I care to say. Because I really hate fattening my paper for the sake of fattening it.

If I ever find a town that has a 24/7 library and a 24/7 diner, I will never leave.

That said, I love feeling so alert and focused. Shame I have run out of things to say, or at least to say coherently.

on Pandora: "Sender" - Pinback

Midnight muse

In the past few days, I have discovered that I am most prolific, productive, or at least verbose from about 12-4AM. While this can be an inconvenience in the real world, during finals week it is entirely doable. So for day 3 of this, I got excited about knocking out another 5 pages, then hitting the sack around 4, to wake up around 11 and go back to the library.

That said, I have only gotten about 2 of those 5 pages done, and I'm already feeling a bit wrung-out. My muse has abandoned me! Bitch! So if anyone has seen my muse, please march her inspirational ass back here. And while you are on the hunt, if anyone has seen the Bullshit, send that along as well. In fact, I would like to borrow the Bullshit indefinitely, if no one minds.

Remind me that "Pinter really gets his misogyny on in scene 4." is not appropriate for scholarly writing.

In the meantime, chocolate mint truffle or pumpkin spice?

on Pandora: "Clunk" - Yo La Tengo

Pancake postscript

What self-respecting college town doesn't have a 24-hour purveyor of breakfast foods? The closest IHOP is 63 miles away, across state lines. There's no Denny's or Waffle House, and the diner on Union Street is only open 24hrs on the weekends!

Procrastination pancakes

Don't you hate that feeling of not really knowing what you're hungry for, but being really certain that it can't be found in the confines of your apartment? Further exacerbated by a complete lack of clean dishes and spoons (can't drink any more coffee until I was dishes unless I want to drink it straight out of the pot, and I really hope it doesn't come to that moment.) Oh, and the fact I have been trying to clear out the fridge and cabinets for break. Me want pancakes.

Since I don't have Clarke's just down the street, which I know is open 24/7 and necessarily serving pancakes at any hour I require them, I had to jump online to see if anyone else knew. Smokin' Fairy suggested Bob Evans, but I didn't really want to sit in some joint and shovel pancakes and syrup into my face, wearing my jammies, by myself. As I debated the merits of carryout, he volunteered to come with, because all of this talk of pancakes was making him hungry too.

Discussed our respective projects that we were avoiding, bad relationship stories, and why being in a wedding sucks/rocks. 2 hours later, we were still in the parking lot.

On one hand, that was two more hours I could have spent finding new and creative ways of calling Pinter out on his misogyny. Then again, those two hours would have been spent being grumpy and hungry. And now those multigrain pancakes and sausage links are fueling the writing as I wait for my magic hour of productivity, which of late has been hitting somewhere around 3AM, hence the late posting. While 3AM is not exactly optimal, at least I have a productive hour, and I know when it is.

3 more minutes. And about 3000 more words to go. *sigh*

Grad-lympics

It's a good thing we're creative, because athleticism just ain't gonna happen.

(closing ceremonies on the front porch.
Sadly there was no fire involved.)

To celebrate the end quarter, the penultimate day of classes, which we have off, all the grads gathered at the Macbett house for Grad-lympics. A series of special, theatre-oriented "events" all while picking at a turkey and drinking a beer. Like the cable coil:

And the "Who's Line" with odd props:

(there was much hilarity when the players outside made fun of the GH players inside)

And Iron Draping, which was like Project Runway meets Iron Chef. Complete with Tim Gunn impressions and a nipply mannequin:


And for the uber-goobers, a Shakespeare scavenger hunt. Using a quote, figure out the physical location of the play, then locate the next clue in the right play (there were like 3 at each station). Oh yes, there was some playing dirty, and entirely too much, "There is no way that is Coriolanus. It's totally Titus!"

And as intermission entertainment, I rocked some Guitar Hero on XBox. I covet, but then I'd REALLY never get anything done. After an embarrassing first go-round, I snagged a high score on "Rock This Town." And I can't wait for GH3!

A nice diversion before diving head first into my library books.

Tight-knit

Which is how all of my clothes should be. Because what's the point of an open-knit sweater?

Actually, tight-knit refers to my 1st year friends. In only 8 weeks, I have found people who are as dorky as I am, drinking buddies, people to call at ungodly hours, and new uses for speed-dial (that ISN'T Papa Johns). While this is probably a function of shared experience and the theater personality, I'll take it. Apparently this scares some people who are not theater people.

What has struck me is that with all this boy drama, the 1st years have really rallied their support. When setting up a meeting with one of the directors, her first question was how was I and was it resolved. Only after going through that did she want to set up the meeting. Even the guys are checking up on me. So I guess it's nice to know that even in such a minor crisis, I have people who are going to be right here for me, if it's a quick, "You OK?" or a longer chat over coffee at Donkey. Remotely, I have my little protege from VG who has told me anytime I have the impulse to call the Boy, to call her instead. I like knowing that if I decide to swan dive, there is a net down there to catch me.

Back to the Film paper.

Perpetual state of procrastination

I started all conscientious-like. At this point I have less than a week to do alot of work. Over the past week, I have managed to eke out at least a little bit of work, which isn't a good pace, but is something. Today was supposed to be the day to kick it into gear.

Except that I stayed out past my bedtime last night, felt generally ill until about an hour ago, and have been dealing with boy drama. (If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. Hopefully, it will just be a really funny story.) Almost passed out taking a shower. Needless to say none of this is really helping me get work done. All I feel like doing is laying on the couch under my fuzzy penguin blanket and watch Comedy Central, with the occasional trip to the freezer for sherbet.

I did knock out a rough draft of Part 1 of my film paper. Now I have to jazz it up for Part 2 and sound 1400-1800 words of brilliant. But it's about Billy Elliot, which is one of my favorite movies. And I could watch the "I Love to Boogie" sequence from now until the cows come home. I do want to see Macbett one more time, because it is such an amazing and unique spectacle. Unfortunately, that would involve getting out of my jammies, going outside and being social instead of mildly pukey. And jammies = work.

the Talkback that wasn't

As part of my dramaturgical duties, I am supposed to lead the talkback discussion for Macbett. Quick definition: talkback = post-show conversation between audience and artistic team moderated by the dramaturg. A great opportunity for the audience to ask questions, find out more about the tank, whatnot. Having fielded lots of these kinds of questions over the past week, I felt fairly prepared for anything. Except the deafening silence of an empty auditorium.

No one stayed for the talkback. No one came for the talkback. It was me in my big girl pants standing on the stage. Woog. I wasn't offended as much as annoyed, since I had put some advance thought into this. And dragged myself out of my jammies. The ushers (other theatre students) came into clean up the space, and ended up asking questions. It was nice to have such an informal conversation, especially for my first talkback. At the same time, it would have been nice for the rest of the artists if someone showed up. One of the crew people was really incensed, and promised that next quarter, it would be a requirement in his class.

My professor was all apologetic, like it was somehow his fault. Turns out the head of the department failed to mention the talkback in his curtain speech. I tried to cut some slack, since the show ran long, it was late, and it's the end of quarter.

Oh well, we all ended up at Martini night, so the evening wasn't a total bust.

Now I have 3 hours to write before Madness. Let's see if I can compose whole sentences about absurdism yet.

on Pandora: "Back in the Wild" - Greenskeeper

Tidbits

It might be the end of the quarter making complete, coherent thought difficult, or that Facebook has successfully sucked me into the cult, or that I have to keep moving to keep warm.

• Me likey Free Pizza. I had nodded off doing some reading. Woke up to a knock at the door. Neighborhood group was checking smoke detectors in exchange for a pizza. Duh. To say nothing of the fact that my few attempts at cooking have alerted me to their functionality. So I had a chicken & pineapple pizza from Avalanche, which uses natural/organic ingredients, and is damn tasty. And next time, I am totally trying the ninja sauce.
• I need to hang out with technicians more. I learned about zombies, swords as engagement/wedding gifts, how to check for a concussion on a naturally goofy kid, and that there will be Guitar Hero in the Baker tomorrow.
• Coffee can't touch me anymore, and that's a bad thing. Because there is nothing more disorienting than yawning and having heart palpitations at the same time. I don't know why I am tired all the time, but it's getting on my nerves.
• as a side note - the pumpkin flavored stuff has already started to disappear in favor of "christmas" flavors. We haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving. This is ridiculous. As a result, I have started stockpiling what I can.
• I think the other MA and I have figured out how to get our mentor to come out for Martini Night. This should be excellent!
• Installation art makes me happy, even if it's been done in other cities.
• I lost my periwinkle bucket hat. This makes me sad, because it matched my red velvet coat I get so many compliments on. Also sad, because every other hat I own makes me look like a 5 year old.
• My new hobby is racing to the heater when it kicks on to either roast my toes or my rump. Then when it stops to race to sit on the couch and enjoy the toasty a little longer. Strangely, this is also the best way to get my nose to stop being ice.
  
• The final project in 500 went really well. Our set looked cool, people laughed. And apparently, ours was the first comedy in 5 years.
• Comical to some, painful to me. My iPod earbuds have started shooting static into my ears at unpredictable intervals. I know I have a static problem, but I don't remember this from last year. I must look like I have Tourette's, because one minute I am walking, then next minute I am jumping around and cursing.

on Pandora: "Maybe You're Coming Down With It" - The High Strung

PhD prelim

It's everyone's favorite time of year again! The time when I start seeking favors and letters and transcripts to send off to schools to take my money and reject me. I hate applying to schools. It's unnerving, because I never know where I stand. I have to do serious paper chasing and bullshitting as I try to make my interests and objectives sound intelligent and meaningful. How do you tell a school that the reason you even discovered them is that they are located on a beach?

As an assignment, we had to do some research into potential programs. I discovered some interesting programs, and the fact that funding is scarce. As with my master's, I refuse to go somewhere that involves dropping crazy cash for a degree that won't pay it off efficiently. Geography does play into things, but more places I WON'T live. I am leaning towards Performance Studies, which feels more integrated, matching my approach to the arts. I want a program that is affiliated with dance, gender studies, with some women on the faculty and as students. While my current mentor is male, I suspect his level of support and enthusiasm is uniquely his own.

Here's the list of schools on my radar:

• University of Wisconsin
• University of California at Santa Barbara
• University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
• Florida State University
• Southern Illinois University

The list is not final or exhaustive, but rather du jour. However the jours are short, since apps are due as soon as Dec. 10, and no later than the end of January! At the same time, I am keeping the OU Interdisciplinary Arts PhD on the back burner. The head of the program apparently is very impressed by my work thus far. It's cool to feel like hot property. It almost combats my cold nose.

on Pandora: "For Us" - Pete Yorn

Estro-fest

As I fight with the male-dominated genre of absurdism, it is refreshing to find the feminine perspective. Currently, I am trying to write a paper discussing the absence of (meaningful) females in absurdist plays. It only enhances my distaste for the genre. So I have to read Pinter, who is such a misogynist. But I also get to read Maria Irene Fornes, who I find to be interesting and funny. But my thesis eludes me.

Last night, I headed over to the Green House for a Girls' Night. The 2 directors are women, sharing this awesome house. And they decided to host all the grad and senior girls. Contrary to male fantasy, there was no lingerie or pillowfights. Just alot of red wine and brownies and shooting of the shit. We all holed up in the loft talking about audition nightmares. Came back down and managed to hold 3 different conversations around the same table. And Moss' toast was awesome - "To women who are going to make it in a field dominated by white men." I can't say it would have been any different if boys had been invited, but it was fun to just chill in the last moments of the quarter.

Unfortunately, when I got home, my cold broke. I had been hoping it was allergies. So I drugged up and curled under the covers with a box of Kleenex to watch Billy Elliot for film class. I had been pretty awake, but it's hard to read feminist theory and take notes while on Benadryl and constantly sneezing.

I'm hoping that the cold is the reason I have felt so tired lately. In the meantime, I stock up on coffee and trudge the last 2 weeks of the quarter. It will all get done, I'm just going to be a grumpy monkey in the meantime.

Quick summary

No time for a detailed post, so I'll hit the high/lowlights:

1. opening night of Macbett. It's incredible and I feel cool by association.
2. must kill primary designer for being a diva and an asshat
3. migraines suck
4. the very idea that i have only 2 weeks to write a film paper, a 15pager on feminist absurdism, even though i still don't have a real thesis, a project in 500 which requires the use of software i don't know, and a source book to produce, kinda makes me want to throw up and then crawl back into bed until thanksgiving. and don't get me started on next quarter.
5. it's now cold and that makes me grumpy