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Happy birthday Trisha, I'm in the Michigan milita (part 2 of 2)

2005-08-27 - 11:17 p.m.

Ah yeah, updating would be good--being a week behind in this life shindig.

- - -

I woke up in the terribly comfy den bed, walked outside, and had an American morning conversation with Rachel's dad. Great guy: funny, got my jokes, talked about all sorts of interesting goings-on.

I ended up having some donut holes and some lukewarm boca burgers that someone zapped. I can hear my ancestors snickering at me now. I also liberally scratched several cat and dog heads, being that Rachel's family owns ALOT of pets. Rabbits, too. I forget if I mentioned it, but one of the aussie sheps outside bit my calf while I was turning around to ask Jen something. Hurt like a bitch for 20 minutes. She'd asked then if I needed serious medical attention. Felt bad but in that 'I'm not profusely fucked' way--and sure enough, it was just a scratch with a near puncture wound. My pants got a few canine teeth holes, but it was a warning bite. That dog could have taken a chunk out if it wanted to. And I should've known better than to get in its space, even if someone mentioned that they were decent (but not friendly) to outsiders. First dog bite ever; closest thing before was when I was 6, and my mom's boyfriend's father's old bitch nearly took my forefinger off when I slowly reached out to pet it. Ever since then I've presented my fist to animals.

[/rambling]

The party was going to be in the backyard, which translates into a giant clearing with a 100 foot or so (in diameter) pond. Beyond that, 48 some odd acres of woodlands, most of it overgrown and woodsy.

I helped move some picnic tables with Rachel's dad and the ruggedly svelt farm boy from across the way, we had ourselves a talk about shit I knew nothing about. Tractors. Country life. There was a snippet about knowing less about women the more you tried. Not sure which one said that.

Jen came around and whisked me back to her place. I got introduced to her family in semi-short order while she re-arranged CD's to put on her iPud. Her sister seemed nice enough to me, seemed to listen when I gave my 8 second spiel about my work. She has one of those whiny 'I'm naturally pitiful' voices. Apparently she's also not intelligent, or at least that's the overwhelming impression I got from the family. I saw a thousand different teens I'd heard of or kinda known: lives from day to day, can't do much for themselves, quit school 'cause it was too hard, are looking for a job, gets hassled by the parents to do simple things and complains about it. I took pity on her, honestly.

Her dad is a riot, with that air of 'I don't take shit from anyone, and sometimes I don't take shit seriously either' folk. He seemed like he was in a good mood, wasn't pissed that I was there. Apparently he had been when Jen came to visit in Cali 3 years back. On occasion he and Jen would yell back and forth from across the house--not yelling yelling but just talking loud. I could appreciate the acidic sense of humor he had. God knows I love mine; fucker serves you well, like febreeze at a Phish concert.

Pretty soon the mom got home. Hard to explain her dynamic. Think of someone who perpetually finds fault in an amusing, passive-aggressive way. I mean she was a cool person, don't get me wrong. I'd just hate to be on the receiving end.

There was some general up-in-armsness about the coffee maker spitting out water and crap. The sister had tried using it. The mom expressly said never to use the thing again. I was kinda surprised by how, well, casual and casually brutal alot of comments were. Didn't seem to phase anyone any, so I just sat here or there and watch percentage bars move across screens. I think one of the funnier things was how the sister constantly called her guy 'baby' or 'honey', and how Jen kept saying, "Look, his name is [his name]. It isn't honey, or baby, or whatever." True.

Incidentally, everyone there was gonna be at the party (with the sister inviting herself and her boyfriend).

Speaking of which, we headed back over when the iPud stuff was done and started laying stuff out. I entirely forget how much of this I did. I think I rode in the back of the pick-up holding onto the mystery punch.

- - -

The party itself started around 9 and had 3 phases to it:

Phase 1: The beginning, or the "When IS Natalie going to show up?" segment

So there we were, Jen, myself, Jen's parents, the sister and boyfriend. It'd take awhile before anyone came, and Rachel was at work 'til midnight, so it was time to lightly dip into the booze and food. I think I mostly stood around and listened to people at this point. A week of time erodes the memory like salt upon the car, torrential rains upon the hillside; like a motherfucker, if you will.

When a few more people did show up, I tried my hand at cooking hot dogs over the open campfire. The prongs we had were about under 2 feet. What I know with certainty was that my hand felt REALLY, REALLY HOT whenever I got remotely close to the fire. I tried roasting the thing, but after 30 seconds the pain was just too much. Jen's mom tried cooking a few, said that it hurt like a bitch, and left the dad to cook 'em. While I wanted to get a glove, he just got a piece of fire wood that'd act as an extender. Damn good idea, and roasting problem solved.

Speaking of the dad, he and I ended up having a pretty interesting discussion about him going for his bachelor's in business, then possibly getting an MBA. He wanted to seriously start a kennel from the sound of things, and he talked about some of the techniques businesspeople use to stay flexible. It seemed like an odd contrast to what I'd seen before, but I think what I saw before was just his usual show. Seemed like, right then, he was opening up to a stranger in the way he really couldn't to his family. I've been curiously useful that way alot of times.

The end of Phase 1 had me roasting and eating smores, more people coming, my occasionally (seldom occasionally) talking to this or that person, and stealing Jen away for quick soundbytes of conversation.

Phase 2: The biggest crowd shows up

About 2 hours into the whole thing, lots of people showed up. There was couple X and Y, lots more couples I can't recall well, and hot chick Z with her entourage of young lads eager to sample the mystery punch.

True, I was slowly beginning to realize I wouldn't have any sort of drunk snuggle partner for the evening, but there were two highlights:

1) Amidst her entertaining the guests and being her wonderful Jen self, Jen smiled semi-drunkingly at me, gave me a tight hug and said she was really glad I'd come, that she was so happy to see me. It was one of those rare, exceptionally genuine tight hugs, like she actually did love me. I think that one thing really made the trip worth it.

2) A woman a little younger than me occasionally came by to talk. Maybe it was because I was alone more often than not, but we kept striking up conversations. I found out she was a psych major, of all things, and that she'd gone more the physical therapy route--yet she had a passionate interest in all the biological stuff (brain, etc.). We quietly talked about the whole gambit of things for a long time. Her boyfriend only seemed concerned at one point, but he mostly was just talking to other people. That all easily lasted 45 minutes, and it sucked to see her go. She invited me to go with her and some friends to do kyaking (sp?) up in way north Michigan, but I couldn't; had to study for a big deal training session on monday. She said it was great talking to me, I said likewise, and off they went.

Phase 3: "Keg Stands and the real, real quiet time"

Phase 3 kinda backs up and past Phase 2. While the psych major person was still around and we were talking in pop-out chairs by the fire, people started doing keg stands. Up they'd go, and in went the miller lite. It was a near full half keg and most people (including me) had opted for the heavily, heavily spiked punch. So Jen was all about people using it. Psych major woman made a comment about it, I good-naturedly agreed it was silly, and that seemed like that to me. Behing the scenes, though, as Jen related, the psych major woman had shot someone a really disapproving, haughty look when they were wooting and standing. She got into an argument with psych major woman over how she wanted people to enjoy her party, etc. I did catch that the psych major was kinda judgemental, but it didn't bother me any. Not on the receiving end and all.

Anyway, the real part of phase 3 was after all that. One of the dudes, a really drunk shady looking fucker, was making trouble here and there, getting a little bent. The culmination was when he drove his van from out front to the back. He was going really fast, and it looked like he was about to crash into the picnic tables or people, or anything. He thun spun around and peeled ass out as Jen ran over near the truck and yelled something like, 'Get your ass out of this car now!' And so he peeled ass out of the backyard. I walked out front after 5 minutes while people were still talking about it. The van was stopped near the driveway out. I stood in the darkness and watched Jen and Rachel (who'd arrived earlier) approach to van. I came in at that point to check out what was going on.

Somehow, the guy had lost his keys, even if he'd just been driving the thing. I assumed it was in the giant patch of grass he'd parked in. Rather than searching in the dark, I decided to get a lantern. Having come back with in, there was a sober chick who'd taken the helm and fired up the truck. The fucker had just lied about the keys thing. And off into the night went the rowdy boys (and sober girl).

After that, things got all sorts of quiet. There was a final group of people that came in at 2am, including an aussie. He made some occasionally obscene and amusing jokes. The others with him were, well, boring. After they left, Jen and I and Rachel talked for a little bit--I think--and then went off to do the sleeping thing. I knew Jen was drunk off her ass and tired, but part of me wanted to see about the whole snuggling thing. I'd remembered she was comfortable, but I guess that was years back and shit changes.

Beforehand, I had to cram a foot wide inflattable mattress (which I'd inflatted at the house and brought down to the clearing) into an 8 inch tent opening. That took some work. Apparently there'd been some water in the tent, since some of the bottom-most covers were wet. It looked like my mattress would stay dry. And so I climbed in, zipped up, listened to Jen tell Rachel not to clean up a few times, and drifted off to the sound of warbling bugs in the distance. Had to use some 'off!' spray on my feet and exposed regions since I heard skeeters in my tent.

When I woke up, I felt well rested, but damn were my feet covered in mosquito bites. I struggled out of the tent, having had 3 hours less sleep than I thought I'd get. I had another American conversation with Rachel's dad, and Jen was up but in that 'uhhhh...hm wha?' way. I was too, but once I wake up in the morning, can't go back to bed.

I sat or ambled around for awhile. Nothing much happened except for more conversations. Eventually, I hugged Rachel and Jen goodbye, wished Rachel's mom farewell (since she'd be fabulous to me), and went off back to the city I live in.

Naturally, Chicago was crammed full, just as much as friday. Damn that traffic..and that I-90 toll road, gah. But I eventually got back with enough time to read the three chapters on radiation that I needed to do. Yesh, that monday, I got a crash course in radiation safety training. Fun shit, actually.

The parting gift from my time in the car was getting really tan along my exposed parts. Didn't burn, so I guess that's alright.

- - -

School whatnot

Lemme see, shit I should mention here so I don't have to mention it later:

*Been re-analyzing my first and second experiments, re-doing some of the graphs, and generally doing a thorough job. I have a lab presentation on the 1st, and at the end of sept. there's this first year research symposium I need to present at. People are getting scared about it. I'm one of the few who truly doesn't give a flying fuck. It's 12 minutes of talking in front of the department. I already gave a 30 minute talk to all the biological psych people, and I just confused/put to sleep at least 5 people there. So this fucker will just amuse my shit.

*There's a 15 page paper on all of my stuff due a week before the symposium. I've got this fucker covered too. All I need to do is write a short 'How I did this shit" section and a 'Here's what I found while I did this shit' section. I'm hoping to finish that before my professional obligation stuff happens the monday after this coming monday.

*I went through a blitzkrieg of Teaching Assistant training. I kid you not. Back on thursday? 9:00am to 3:15pm. Nothing but workshops on being a TA. Fuxxorz, I declare, yo. The cool upside was that I talked to some random anthropology grad student about South Africa and baboons and primates in general. I also met one of the new psych grad students at the end of the day. Name's Heather. Very pleasant sort, seems like the type who might join the rest of our lush asses at drinking occasions.

*Had another training session this friday. 9am again. But it just lasted two hours. Not quite as useful as the other TA training, but this was psych-specific. Union reps from the teaching assistant association then came in and told us how Wisconsin has a bunch of fucked up conservative white assholes who think it's infinitely better to give companies tax breaks while keeping me in poverty wages. I say fuck the man. I signed a union card and joined that shit on the spot. My union dues are the same as some other dues that would already get taken out, so it's basically free. Damn, I'm a part of organized labor. Hott.

*I met with both of the profs I'm gonna be a TA for. The classes couldn't be any different in terms of organization. One is 100 or so undergrads, very structured, and the syllabus is extremely detailed. The layout is clear, everything is laid out, and I follow her lead.

The other prof is the distinguished but cool sort. I could tell that by his suddenly introducing 'fucking' as an adjective at one point. He literally sounded pained over all the stuff he was doing, and the course would be a fly by the seat of one's pants situation. I was thinking in my mind, "No problem. I like it." And then he dropped me a line that made my week: the course was just like abnormal psychology, but without psychoses or somatoform disorders. I thought this course'd kick ass, but when I learned that I was thinking, "I don't care if some of the discussions might be flaming car wrecks, or if this or that goes wrong--this is the shit I wanna teach some day! Fuck yeah, man! I'm with you all the way on this."

*I'm...not sure how I'll balance all of this out: research, my classes, the classes I TA for. But y'know, I kinda like forward to it. I don't look forward to some of the other bullshit like fellowship applications later on, but one of my classes will be over by then...so maybe it won't be an insane fuckfest of chaotic maddery.

Or maybe it will be.

I've been through worse, and I'm an academic porn star. I'm not too worried.

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