So part 2 is either going to be postponed for about a week. Or I'm going to fast-forward vomit it all at you. NOW.

So I spent that particular friday watching all of the first year projects for the psych department They were all quite impressive I had no questions I wanted to ask except ultra-technical brain imaging ones We all went for lunch and I was witty with french fries.

The best part really came before and after. We, the third year class, had put together a special little skit to act as pre-talk entertainment. Like any good student body sketch comedy, some of it was lame and involved inside jokes that only department people would get. Then there were some of the segments I designed. I'm delighted to say that all the grad students laughed their asses off at my monkey porn. Yes. I made monkey pornography. I made goddamn fabulous, beautifully edited monkey pornography. I also stunned the faculty into silence, but I was expecting that.

After all the talks were done we had an adjournment for lots of beer. And catering. Perfunctory toasts were made, perfunctory people danced their dance of normalcy, and we played our 3rd year video with bloopers added. They even included my Mission Impossible theme song rendition while we crept through dark hallways. The cake was great. The champagne was great.

But you read that the best part came after the talks. Was the champagne and cake THAT good? Yes, but in addition--and suprisingly--people kept complimenting the fuck out of the 15 minute skit video. More specifically, several people told me I'd "missed my calling." With nods of agreement and murmuring. I don't make this shit up. Literally every person I talked to that wasn't faculty offered a compliment specifically directed at me. Some people went for 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th helpings on that count. So color me surprised and pleased that that was the case. It was also heartening to hear how the segments I made or suggested were really appreciated. The biggest being the monkey porn, of course.

And y'know what? Actually. I may one day make the video available to you. The CD is sitting in my mailbox. And it's burnable. And YouTube is YouTube or whatever I decide. The downside is that I prefer being an anonymous cum stain of words and syntax. Without physical (or literal?) structure. Besides, me as a person isn't nearly as much fun as me as a story.

So after the rehearsal, I finished some work (read: cleaned up and drank more champagne), then went over to Drew's place.

I expected the whole crew to be at Drew's. His pad is fantastic and urban, while he himself has the metro sexual sweatercore thing down rock solid. Cocks and rings solid. It ended up being that I was the only one around for the longest time. We talked about our professional festishes, him with speak about neuroeconomics in Germany and some internship, and me with my interest in combining brain area imaging, brain area connectivity, physiological measures, behavior, and genetic screening.

Our mutual consensus: cool.

He got into research to save the world and will get out when something better comes along. I got into research because:

1) I sortof fell into it based on a phone call I got from the campus research center

2) I generally like research

3) I wasn't stupid enough/didn't have the balls to try to seriously pursue writing or photography as a career (or apparently acting to hear tell now). What can I say except I like a steady paycheck and I've lived with my mom for long enough.

Drew in general didn't seem too keen on my pragmatism. Few idealists are. Eventually several people made their way over, we talked, we decided to head to the Dane.

(Lovely chorus. The rest is an allegory of trying to get sex from a chick. Ok. So is the chorus. But it sounds so pretty!)

Now the Dane is your typical middle class young white hangout bar on a friday. Lots of young things mingling. Lots of young things putting in requests to hear "sexy back" and other assorted useless dance music bullshit (not to be confused with MY dance music bullshit, which is so much fucking cooler).

You know: beer, bitches, and bastards.

We arrived, I scouted, and found several other members of the crew including Heather, Erin, and people I haven't introduced here because, hey, in my world they mean nothing.

Basic synopsis:

*Erin and others went over to watch pool, I meandered over on occasion, Erin gets to talking with a tall male something, they seem to hit it off, and my self-esteem dips. Ok. Fine. Fuck you. Tanks.

*I met Anne, a new first year. Damn she so pretty. And she laughs at my jokes. Probably married or dating something with a disposition that positive and sweet. Still, fun person I got to talk to on another occasion I'll mention shortly.

*Met other first years. One dude was from around my area. I had to cut that off, though, as I had to eat in the worst goddamn way possible. So I headed over to the Russian place, Pel Mani, had spiced dumplings, made convo with the cook, headed back, mingled more.

*Went over to check on a contingent of people that'd split off from our colony. Apparently that just meant Xtian and a few people I'd never met. They kept trying to force their long savaged nachos on me. I declined. I made funny and sweeping metaphors with a grandiose flourish. All were impressed in the only way I can be when I forget who I am temporarily.

*The remnant headed to Drew's. I walked back with Erin and her apparently new boy. I kept getting the 'we want to talk to each other and move slow, um, could you like fuck off?' vibe. This was the point at which--I guess--I was supposed to assess the worthiness of this chap. So I did some verbal sparring. Well she wasn't interested in him for intellect, that was for sure. But they meandered in speech and I just felt sorry for myself for not having asked her earlier if, y'know, she actually was interested or not.

I'm guessing kinda not.

*My kinda not guess was pretty well fleshed out at the post-Dane party. Drew has a series of couches, some of which are more isolated than others. The main contigent occupied the middle couches facing each other. Erin and the guy sat close side by side and talked the entire time. I mostly didn't notice as I did whatever I did. She didn't pay much mind when I eventually bid her farewell.

So much for "really liking" my company.

The subsequent friday or saturday or something involved a party at Dan's. I'll highlight because this is dragging:

*I get there ahead of everyone. I'm habitually on time, so yeah.

*I make awkward conversation with people I don't know because I'm not in the mood to meet new people.

*An influx of new and old people settle in.

*Somehow--based on Chick Who Looks Like Erin And Is Just As Much A Bitch--a conversation topic got started on camping and travel. I stuck around because, well, Anne was there and she's cute so yeah. Now this is where bourgie white people have me at an advantage, because aside from Las Vegas and my first year of college orientation in the woods, I've never really gone camping. I eventually twisted it around, after a few people left, to asking about some of Anne's forays. Apparently her and some unnamed dude (I'm assuming an ex) had actually sailed from the mainland of some French city to a nearby island, gotten STUCK there because the boat ran out of gas, then decided to sail back using just the wind.

*I met up with Sven. Sven is Hillary's husband. Sven has perpetually been a really cool guy and that night was no exception. We talked some about his business, about med school finals, really nothing in particular. He holds most humans in a quiet contempt and I'm sure I'm no exception.

*I went to the Inferno, danced for several hours. I think I talked with Dorian Grey/Jeff a lot in this instance. Or maybe that was a different night. That's altogether a different story, my coming to know the plant geneticist.

*I was feeling my lonely usual after the Inferno, so I blew through the party again. Well, I kinda edged past the house to see if anyone was there, parked, then sorta crept up to the house to see if anyone was. Fast-foward to later, where Dan (Katie's b/f), Sven, myself, and a dude from Romania were talking about European and American culture differences. This lasted 'til around 4am or so. At about 2 or 3 I saw Erin and her boy thing meander from an area that I knew had a couch in it. By that point I'd pretty much shrugged off the disappointment.

I'm 0 for 2 for blondes this season. Ha.

Christ what else:

*Owen T. had a damn fine round of country music over at the Weary this past weekend. He used to be a musician out around Texas, where he was apparently becoming decently known as a singer-songwriter sort. His sets were excellent, though I had to exit out of the 2nd one midway through to continue reading and all. I didn't do the social thing much, though I talked with Owen's wife some along with Drew. We had two tables, the main one and the one Erin was sitting at. I didn't notice her at first, but when I did she was doing an excellent 'I'm entirely oblivious to your existence and my isn't this ceiling fascinating?' look. I ignored that field of vision until intermission when--quite unexpectedly--I felt someone rubbing the top of my head and calling me fuzzy. I craned my head back against someone's stomach. Oh. Her. Well I guess I felt less tense from that point on, but it still feels weird. Like Brian says, though, chicks sometimes change their mind.

Either that or have the emotional steadfastness of a professional whore. In truth a lot of guys do, but I haven't gotten fucked over by any guys yet so I'm biased.

*My manuscript is about ready to go out. I'll probably send it out when I get back.

*When I get back? Oh yeah: I'm going away to a conference in Washington, D.C. for the Ford Fellow people. It's all expenses paid, I just present a poster, and I get a little mini-vacation. Lisa L. will be there, which should be neat. I've done little favors for her here and there: helped her find a place that does cheap poster printing; gave her a copy of my almost successful ford application last year (which she swears is the reason she got the award along with me); and other bits I can't remember.

*I've clawed my way out of a minor dip into dysthymia. Now I feel fine. Well, 50% of the time. The double blow to my male ego of losing Erin and T as prospects at around the same time was a bit much. I've since put my chips back on the 'I'm going to die alone and I'm only mild to moderately disappointed' roulette rectangle.

I reiterate: I've had more than enough of emotional flightyness from women like these ones (even if I still love the poet beyond all reason or common sense). If stability effectively entails having to beat the shit out of a woman on a semi-regular basis or otherwise demean her into a subordinate position, I'd rather just donate my semen, fulfill my biological obligation, and just focus on creating science and art until I die.

I don't even like sex and I can always adopt, so what am I really missing out on?

*I bought a huge ass new piece of luggage, new plain t-shirts, boxers, and dress socks at Wal-Mart. I have sold out my principles because having to travel to 3 different stores for all of the above shit does not coincide with my busy schedule.

*My busy schedule this night was going out to see Stochastic Theory and other bands at the Inferno. It was alright. I felt a hell of a lot more awkward than usual for some reason. Not that anyone noticed or cared, but still.

*I went boot shopping with Birdie/Post-Doc. That's cute, pleasant story. I should explicate on it sometime.

*It's getting rather late, I have to be ready by 12:30 today, it's 2:36, and I'm barely packed. Granted, it's from thursday to sunday, but still.

previous - next