Thursday, August 07, 2003

NO LOVE FOR HATERS; ALL THE LOVE FOR ENGLISH MAJORS
So all day long I've been compiling data relating to previous English courses and analyzing how frequently certain courses are taught/which names they go by. My favorite course titles from the last four years are as such:
1) "What Was Postmodernism?" Why even shoot for nonpartisan status in the war between structuralists and poststructuralists when you know which side of the avant garde (invisible) fence you're on? Because obviously postmodernism is now something that was, that its state of "becoming" has ended, solidified, and codified itself into something that can only be described as past-tense. This is all a matter of ridiculous verbage that you'll have to excuse seeing as my most complex phrases as of late regard the acquisition of beer.

2) "Flight and the Avant Garde Imagination" It's no longer necessary to decide which side of above avant garde (invisible) fence you're on because you are now above it. That's right, you're flying in the clouds of ABSTRACTION. Which we may as well refer to as "ABSTRACTIO," "ABSTRACTI," or maybe just 'STRACTION. The previous sentence makes as much sense as any element of said class ever will.

3) "A Salutation Speech From the 19th Century to the 20th, Taken Down Shorthand By Mark Twain" I wouldn't even begin to imagine what this course was like, except that I knew somebody who took it and liked it a lot.

4) "Diaspora and Transnationalism in African American Expressive Culture" This one excites me mostly because I'm (hopefully) taking it next semester, even though its title has technically been changed to the much more humdrum "African American and the World." And it's taught by one of my favorite professors, the one I had last spring for "African American Performance in the Era of the Harlem Renaissance." Do you begin to catch my drift?

5) "Toward Creating an Aesthetics of Dysfunction" First of all, the pressure is off because there's no WAY anybody is going to expect that you actually create your own personal aesthetics of dysfunction during the semester; you just have to take steps toward it. This, I assume, indicates that the student reexamine previously staid notions of beauty, or more obtusely, "aesthetic pleasantness" to include not only symmetrical faces, blue birds pulling festooned white ribbons, Victorian table legs, skinny people, and Greco-Roman composition, but also self-destructing art machines, badly bruised ankles, very large women on guerneys, incredibly small people with wide shoulders, family arguments in fast food restaurants, and half-sleep in the bed of a remade Conestoga wagon transporting moronic travelers across the desert in a Book of Mormon travel package. But like, moving towards that.

Wednesday, August 06, 2003

SOCIABILITY IS HARD ENOUGH FOR ME
Are you interested in things beyond the calluses on your big toes, your doughnut collection, and the mess in your room? If so, you should consider coming the the Vale & Year show next Monday, August 11th at the Shadow Lounge. Not convinced? Here are your reasons: 1) Dave Bernabo screams a lot 2) You will have a crush on Dave Bernabo when he screams a lot 3) Incredible on-stage energy 4) All the trendiness of a two-person drum and guitar band, but with a guitar sound so rich that you'd swear there was a bass, Hammond, and melodica crammed in there 5) You can hang out with me because I sure as fuck will be there 6)The songwriting is amazing and I'll punch you if you ask me to describe it 7) Just fucking be there, okay?

A review of everything that is recent and posicore: 1) I don't get carded at the Union Grill anymore 2) and I stumped the bartender on '80s new wave trivia, 3) I like tall cups of black coffee and I happen to have one right here, 4) New purple lip gloss only succeeds in making my mouth ridiculously magenta and vinyl-shiny 5) Tomorrow is my last day at the library 6) My computer got back in from the shop (which means more more more updates and friendster testimonials, 7) My parents gave me a huge bag of homegrown basil 8) and sunflowers in a mason jar, 9) school starts blissfully soon, 10) when asked by my mom to name the boys who have crushes on me, I couldn't even offer a brief summary over dinner (and how it must feel to read that if you're one of the lucky!, i mean many. oh dear.), 11) This coffee is just starting to kick in and I feel what must be a little manic writing twinge coming on, 12) I really like my school and my major, 13) I can't wait to get back into heavy reading for my theory classes, 14) I have a slew of new records to listen to (Air Supply, John + Yoko, the soundtrack to Miami Vice, Bruce Springstein, Loretta Lynn, and Sonic Youth), 15) My room is clean 16) My laundry is clean, 17) There's food in the house, 18) The weather is getting cool = fall = my birthday. AND I'm going to bake my own damn cake this year. Green and pink and in the shape of a doll. Or the shape of myself.

Tuesday, August 05, 2003

ALL THEIR MOUTHS ARE OPEN
So, what you saw previously was a panic attack while at work. I usually don't like to share any of the thoughts that I have about/during those kinds of things (and in fact usually detest/fear writing during similar situations for reasons even I can't understand), but in that case it helped me. I hope this doesn't become some kind of hotwire for messy personal bleeding and such, but with the inherent panoptic features of blogging it's kind of hard to say. I mean, I know you're reading. I even installed a hits tracker last week so I can see how many of you there are and how many times you check to see if I've posted my mental status lately. And there are definitely things that I say and don't say based on my research. Well, I think we've cleared that up. Next item:

I went to New Jersey and New York on a whim with Adam, Erik, Josh, and Jeff last weekend. Adam literally came to visit me at work on Friday and asked me if I could be ready to go around 4:30, which was absolutely hectic (and absolutely worth it). I did laundry, threw my bags in the back, and we were off on a pleasantly lengthy road trip. For a while I was thinking that traveling would be the worst and most aggravating thing for my mental state, but it turned out to be the best thing I could possibly do. (Especially since Dave was going to be away all weekend and I would have been in the house all by myself.) Let's be honest: I still have some scares from having seen 28 Days Later, and a big, empty house = me sitting very, very quietly and refusing to leave my room after it gets dark. Whatever, that's pretty funny.

Anyway, we stayed at Josh's idyllic house, met his awesome parents, and hung around drinking cherry gingerale and reading the New York Times, eating at diners and all-vegan Chinese restaurants, and seeing Capturing the Friedmans for cheap. Nicey McNice.

The (alleged) point of the trip is to hold a question and answer session for soon-to-be CMU first years and their parents, and that, too was a lot of fun. As I'm sure we've established by now, I have CMU school spirit coming out of my ears, and I was more than happy to say so. The whole thing makes me contemplate being an OC (orientation counselor, for you unaware folk) next summer. Positive Patsy, that's me.

(As opposed to Negative Nancy, that is.)

After the Q&A, we drove into the city and went to Plaid, an uber-trendy club in Manhattan. Erik used his amazing connections to get us in, making us feel like VIP hipster urbanites. (And I honestly can't say that I feel that way ALL of the time. But anyway. Next question.) And then we danced. I like dancing, I've decided. Prepare yourselves for DANCE PARTY SOVEREIGN NATION STATE! If you don't know how to prepare, believe me, you'll know soon enough.

In summation: dancing, vegan sesame chicken, humid New Jersey air, road trip-style bonding, and hearing "Crazy In Love" every other minute on the radio equal summer goddamned fun.