Consuming the Past

First day teaching-- done. Although, it wasn't a real first day, being that I only held them for 15-20 minutes. I am disappointed in myself. I was better prepared. I should have overcome that nervous energy and done better.

I'm killing time right now in the history lounge. I just spent a few hours in the library working on lesson plans and thinking about my paper. I think I might have sort of a handle on a new angle-- the consumption of the past being similar to the consumption of Imperialism as already set forth by authors like Anne McClintock. That would tie in both tourism, fashion and decorating the home-- processing an idea into commodities for a lifestyle-- expressing an idea through consumption despite opposing "mass" anything...

I think I may be getting somewhere with this idea.

To do:
1.) Look over arguments about Imperialism before meeting with BritProf.
2.) Cull some stuff from articles.

Schedule:
Friday: Lesson plans, IronChef/Voice, Articles, Party
Saturday: Books, Opera
Sunday: Anxious, Superbowl Party

WEATHERED. (That's the burn and scab on my left hand).

The Dean Scream

"GENIUS DOES WHAT IT MUST, BUT TALENT DOES WHAT IT CAN."
--Owen Meredith (Lord Lytton)

Sitting in Starbucks reading Symonds articles and working on my syllabus... A group of men sitting behind me are talking about the Howard Dean speech and their mid-life crises. They thing Dean is a "loose cannon"-- too angry, arrogant and leftist.

But my B doesn't think Dean is really that far left at all! So, who is right? I guess it doesn't matter. I've pretty much decided that he's not my candidate.

Anyway, I am sleepy-- still run down from my strep throat, I guess. It feels like I've been here forever... It's going to be a really long day today before I end up in Florida tonight!

Sore Throat

More time still has passed and I feel differently about it all again... Sitting in the Doctor's office on East 34th street, waiting to have this sore throat checked out. I really hope it's the kind that can be fixed with medicine... Anyway, I don't feel like writing right now...

Raj

Later. And last night was so weird. I feel like it should have been exciting, but I feel so numb and deadened to everything. I mean, he is a stranger-- telling me that I am the most beautiful girl in the world, kissing me and touching me. And I just felt so cynical about it and not present and like the whole evening was for him and I was just passing time.

Maybe I'm changing. It was not as thrilling as it would be for me if something happened with someone I cared about. Is that just weird?

I used to think that sex was always more thrilling with strangers, but I don't think that anymore. It only makes me miss him so much more. I feel like this whole break up thing was supposed to make me love him less, but instead I love him more every day.

Last night on the phone he was wonderful... so wonderful. I never imagined that I could be as honest with anyone as I am with him and he still sees me and loves me.

I am so fucking confused.

"In this cruel and lonely world, I've found one love."

On Drinking

"He drank, not as an epicure, but barbarously, with a speed and dispatch altogether American, as if he were performing a homicidal function, as if he had to kill something inside himself, a worm that would not die."
-Baudelaire on E. Allen Poe

"Indeed, I believe if we take habitual drunkards as a class, their heads and their hearts will bear an advantageous comparison with those of any class."
-Abraham Lincoln

"First the man takes a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes the man."
-Japanese Proverb

"And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man"
-A.E. Housman (1894)

"Melancholy is at the bottom of everything, just as at the end of all rivers is the sea... Can it be otherwise in a world where nothing lasts, where all we have loved or shall love must die? Is death, then, the secret of life? The glom of an external mourning enwraps every serious and thoughtful soul, as night enwraps the universe."
-Henri-Frederick Amiel (1893)

Dream-O-Meter: Todd Manning

Todd Todd Todd Todd Todd

On the roof.

We got to the house first (after a wedding) and I admired the read bricks and the flowers. Inside there was a tunnel with a ladder up through the ceiling to get to the roof (like at JKid's apartment). When we went up there, we thought no one else would arrive for a while. I loved the house and he said I could have it. There was a little girl up there. I don't remember her name. But guests showed up immediately and he disappeared in the crowd.

Later, I was looking for him. Someone told me people were pissed off at him and I wanted to tell him that I wasn't mad. I went down through the tunnel to look for him in the backyard. It was the backyard of the house where I grew up (on Long Island). I tried to go back up to the roof carrying a six-pack of Guinness, but I couldn't make it up the ladder with the Guinness. My mom was at the bottom of the ladder and yelled at me not to carry them up because I would fall.

When I got back up to the top, I still couldn't find Todd. I saw B on the roof talking with a group of people and laughing. He was wearing his navy blue fleece shirt.

Finally, I found Todd. It was hard to get him alone because a lot of people wanted his attention and I felt nervous. I managed to get him aside for a moment. He promised to stay at the house after everyone else left and talk to me then.

Suddenly, the dream changes...

I was on 42nd Street in front of the Public Library waiting for a bus to go to a High School reunion. Katie, Corrine, Christina and BigSis were there. Everyone seemed older and more "sure of themselves"-- grounded and changed. I didn't want to go to the reunion though. I felt like I had to go find Todd and felt pressured to get on the bus with them.

Growing Up

Happy Birthday, Elvis!

I've been waiting here in Dr. Gg's office for half an hour already (with some very strange people!) (Feva'!)

I feel a strange pressing on my chest. It's the weight of loneliness. But, I suppose that it's in large part because I've been on vacation for a few weeks already. I hope B will have dinner with me tonight. Although I really do have a lot to do.

****************
Anyway, after and in the Skylight Cafe (the place where I fell on the stop when I was on my crutches.) I'm glad GoldenFinch called me last night. I feel like she cares about me after all. It's weird... we've been "broken up" longer than we were best friends (well, just about as long) but although I feel really changed, my anger and sadness about it are still fresh. Of course, I forgive her. I'm not even sure she did anything wrong. But it's hard to forget.

Sitting here at the counter of a diner reminds me of the time I sat at the counter at Tom's and lost my journal.

Food here. Must go.

****************
Further down the road in the day (by about an hour) and sitting in Starbucks with a mint tea because I'm early for my voice lesson.

I lost two pounds this time, so lets hope my voice is in better shape too. Realizing how expensive all of this is, I wonder if I'll ever make it worth it. I never would have imagined how much it could cost-- like feeding a whole other person for a year1 I guess I hope I'm worth it and that I don't end up disappointing.

Why am I so afraid of disappointing?

There's a girl in here with a Tales of Hoffman score and I'm jealous.

Just now I remembered that brown coat I bought in France. I loved that coat. Bob Dylan is playing. It reminds me of New Orleans and cocaine. That reminds me... I need to write back to Singrl.

I keep thinking about what Buke said on the phone the other day about "choosing" someone. Maybe that's been my problem. I've never though of it so much as choosing. It makes me feel bad that BigSis has never tried to set me up with anyone... or Bro-in-Law. But I see them looking for people for English all the time. I guess I can't blame them... Maybe it's not for the reasons I think. Maybe they just don't know anyone else like me... I want to know someone else like me though.

I feel like I have very little patience and then I somehow miraculously wait forever. Just like I always feel like I'll have to die from this broken heart and somehow keep on living. My heart will stay broken though. To me, it is my youth. I feel so much more like an adult now even if I don't act like one. The ghosts that have been haunting me for the past few years are finally feeling a little more comfortable... at least today they are.

It's weird when I think that only a year ago, RH was there as Todd... The year seems infinite when I think of it that way... That only a year ago, I got Rochie. He is so exasperating sometimes, but I love him so much. My whole way of thinking has to change because of this damn broken heart and I think that's why my brain feels so fractured now... Like that song "to get me to you" or HW's wedding song-- "At Last." I used to be waiting for an arrival. Now I don't believe that I will ever arrive. Even more than before, I understand Grandma L's "work in progress."

And when I think of my dad, I still get that choke of tears. How can something hurt so badly 14 years later? It's almost as if he never had a chance. I want him back. I want to see him one more time and not feel scared this time. I want to hug him and tell him how much I love him. As an adult now. Without fear.

Second Chances

Is this what they call a second chance?
'Cause you know that you've been here before.
Things settle back to the way they've always been.
An unbearable equilibrium

There's nothing wrong here.
There's just nothing wrong but the emptiness.

You had a lot to do today
But stayed inside yourself
Frozen, frozen, frozen, frozen in your veins
A thick gray parts the sky

So this is your second chance...
A second chance at loneliness.

What happened to the chances at love?

I used to try to color my life and call it love.
But the colors have long since bled away.