Today I had my very first graduate course. Here I am, Lauren Rosales the graduate student:



Of course, being the first day of class, not much actually occurred. And since I only had the one class today, from 10:55 until 12:10, the day itself has not been much different than other days. But it is, symbolically, significant nonetheless.

The course I went to today was Modernist Arts in Britain. Here is a brief snippet from the course syllabus:

"We will pay particular attention to the arts of modernism in early twentieth-century Britain, focusing on three interrelated and overlapping areas: 1) The near obsession with houses, rooms, their interiors, and the narrative representation of interiority in modernist fiction; 2) Modernist magazines and the manifestos through which various arts groups (the Vorticists, Omega, Bloomsbury) and individuals (Wyndham Lewis, Roger Fry, Virginia Woolf) promoted their versions of the “new”; 3) Modernism and public/popular culture, including the 1924 Empire Exhibition at Wembley, exhibition posters, the London Underground, advertisements, and documentary films."

I am excited to consider Virginia Woolf through her use of public spaces in London, and to see how her own writings on the city might be able to inform such an angled reading of the novels. I bought a book this summer called The London Scene which has I think six essays that she wrote on the city; obviously, my own love for London is very compatible with the angle that this class is taking. Oh, sweet London. I miss thee.

After class, I joined a couple of my classmates for sushi in the mall up the hill from the main library. We discussed the difference in size of our previous schools, and to explain how small Hendrix was I mentioned the tradition of the senior superlatives. Both my companions denounced it as "awful" and rather catty, to which I of course agreed. Tradition or not--the more I think of it, the more I see Hendrix's student body as a mean-spirited bunch. I know I myself am rather harsh and judgmental, as well as prone to bitterness, but that doesn't change anything. Perhaps I fit in more than I thought.

In any case, I have officially begun graduate school as of today!

It's totally fine if you aren't going to answer my letter. I realize it is an outdated way to communicate and that it actually takes time and a conscious effort, and that we weren't super-close friends to begin with.

But by God, do not get on Facebook to send me a message asking me a personal favor and then try to tempt me by saying that you are going to respond to the letter when you actually aren't. And please don't make a show of asking for my new address if you aren't going to use it.

Thanks.

Since I last posted, a few things have happened:

-on Friday, the English graduate orientation, where I became acquainted with the other 13 incoming graduate students during a tour of the building and at a bar/restaurant afterwards (incidentally, the bar/restaurant, The Mill, had delicious cheeseburgers as well!)
-on Thursday, I managed to switch into The Ethics of Close-Reading, and dropped Modern Confession; to sell the books I had bought for the class I went to The Haunted Bookshop and ended up spending all of the money I had made in trade
-also on Thursday, I volunteered to be the 3rd senator from the English department on the Graduate Student Senate (GSS) and was thus appointed
-yesterday I went to El Cactus, a Mexican restaurant recommended to me by a professor at the English orientation, with Sydney (the Physics grad student) and enjoyed a decent enchilada, pretty good taco, and quite good rice and beans before heading downtown to Joe's, a bar where grad students hang out, for a PBR

During the tour of the EPB (English and Philosophy Building) on Friday, I felt occasionally disappointed that I'm not teaching this year. Everyone else in my tour group was greatly enjoying pointing out their offices to one another, and discussing using the copy room as they claimed their individual mailboxes. I felt left out, and had to remind myself that it is actually a good thing, a mark of my perceived intellectual worth and diligence, that I am on a fellowship and not teaching just yet. I imagine that once my classes begin and I can dismiss the bout of ennui I have been enduring, that I will be thankful to have the extra time on my hands. I do look forward to setting up a routine for myself, between meals and classes and going to the gym. The past few weeks have been unreal... and I am ready for reality to sit in. I have one class tomorrow, and then it will all begin.

For later this evening: Butternut Squash and Rosemary Pizza

Today was the orientation for all graduate students. Initially, it wasn't all that useful. There were a bunch of booths, each representing either some type of student organization or some type of student services. I put my name on the email list for Hillel, and talked to a priest about when and where I can go to confession. Luckily, at the recreational services booth, I learned that there is intramural Ultimate Frisbee, but only in the spring. Still, that is better than nothing!

I sat through talks on payroll and health insurance that were pretty useless in that all of the information I was getting was available on the website.

Afterward, however, I decided that I would stay for the reception. There would be food involved, and I didn't feel like biking home to make shrimp scampi at that moment. I sat down at a table with a girl who had, like me, been searching frantically for the restroom after the talks. As I sat down, she complimented my dress, introduced me to the Asian girl sitting next to her, and we were off. Her name is Sydney and she is in Physics (GAH! I know, like actual physics, like, she wants to shoot lasers and study their effect on atoms for the rest of her life), and the other girl is Vicky and she is studying to be a Rehabilitation Counselor, which sounds like Psychology to me. It was overwhelmingly refreshing to be chatting with people who were not cashiers at the grocery store--almost for the first time in weeks. After we stood in line for food, we found a whole group of people congregated at our table. They all turned out to be English people! My English orientation is on Friday, so I would certainly be meeting these folks soon. But it was nice to know that they exist and that they don't all already have an MA or an MFA or some other PhD (or, like someone who added me on Facebook, a JD... from Harvard).

After eating, a great number of our table decided to hit up the Farmer's Market. When I was unlocking my bicycle to walk with the group, one of the pedals somehow scratched the back of my heel where a blister was forming. I didn't feel it until a little later, but realized as we trekked on that my foot was bleeding profusely, onto and into my beloved Sperry Topsiders. To save the shoes, I went barefoot. All my companions voiced their concern and I was very embarrassed.

The Farmer's Market was very unlike the one I went to a few times in Little Rock. The one in Little Rock was always more expensive than what I could find at Kroger, and so I always felt kind of cheated when Alex and I bought overpriced fruit and it went bad quickly. This Farmer's Market, which is on the ground floor of a parking garage to shield it from sun and rain, hosted incredibly reasonably-priced produce, as well as various vendors of jellies, breads, pies, meats, and spice plants. One vendor sold small boxes of different fruits and different peppers. I sampled a few salsas (a habanero salsa with apple and peach in it was not bad) and even a BBQ sauce (very unimpressed; it was a Memphis-y vinegar-based sauce). I found a booth where a man was selling salsas, guacamole, and tamales. We had a nice chat about the importance of using tomatillo salsa on chicken enchiladas, and he wrote me out a coupon for his restaurant for free drinks! Then I bought 8 tamales to freeze upon my arrival home. Tamales are so grievously bad for you... but I couldn't resist. They will be something easy to throw in the oven when I get back from my evening class.

After the market, Sydney suggested we could try to fit my bicycle in her car so I wouldn't have to walk barefoot all the way home. This turned out to be quite the hilarious adventure indeed, as she ended up having a Toyota Corolla and we foolishly attempted to squeeze the bike into the back seat... where it inevitably got stuck and we spent the better part of 20 minutes just trying to get it out again. Eventually, after much giggling and after I managed to snap the buckle on my new favorite belt (a skinny brown belt with a gold buckle with a little sail boat on it--$8 at Blue Velvet), we got it out and situated it as best we could in the trunk. She dropped me off and I came inside to figure out how to get blood off of my Sperrys.

All in all, a pretty good day.

I should probably explain that Iowa City is nextdoor to Coralville, and that it is about a 15-minute drive to Coralville, if you get stuck at all the traffic lights. (I inevitably do). You don't get on any highway to get to Coralville, so it doesn't even feel like you are driving into the next town over. The best way to note that you have entered Coralville is by the big-name businesses you begin to see, such as Walgreen's, and various fast food establishments. Iowa City is comprised almost entirely of small, local businesses--it's so small that it can do so-- which is great from a buying-local standpoint, but kind of a pain in the ass when you just need that one damn thing from Target or Best Buy. Then you have to drive all the way out to the mall in Coralville, which is about 20-30 minutes of traffic lights. (It may be less than that, but my father continuously bemoaned the "half hour" spent in the car whenever we had to go back to Target when he was still here).

Today, that "one thing" for me was a sports bra. I have been going to the gym 6 days a week, and I don't want to have to do laundry every 5 days to accommodate this practice. But the sports bras had apparently been on sale, because the entire shelf was wiped clean. Bloody hell.

Anyway, on the way home I got a new wall charger for my cell phone, having lost the last one somewhere in Oregon. I have been charging my cell phone in the car for a month now.

My apartment, as you probably know, is one unit in a "fourplex." When I arrived home, the guy who lives in the basement unit, Jared, was smoking a cigarette outside so we chatted. He is probably in his late 20s and works two jobs while simultaneously doing his own independent film-making activities. He told me he was currently attempting to convert a short film into high-definition on his laptop, which is apparently an intensely tedious and time-consuming process. After giving me his phone number and email address he dropped a short screenplay by my door for me to read.

I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on Covert Affairs, the new show on USA that comes on every Tuesday at 9pm. I am getting a little hooked, almost certainly because I have a huge crush on the blind analyst, Augie.

Now, the moment I am sure you have all been waiting for: my dinner.

Asparagus Taquitos


5 6” corn tortillas
10 thin stalks asparagus, cleaned, ends trimmed
1 15-oz. can black beans, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup shredded queso quesadilla
chili powder
olive oil

-Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
-Heat the beans in a small saucepan over medium heat until heated through. Mash with the back of a fork until nearly smooth. Set aside.
-Microwave the tortillas on high for 20-25 seconds or until pliable (in the absence of a microwave, wrap the tortillas tightly in foil and bake at 350 degrees F for 10-15 minutes).
-Gently spread each tortilla with a thin layer of beans. Top beans with two stalks of asparagus and a sprinkle of both cheese and some chili powder. Roll tightly and place, seam-side-down on a clean plate. Repeat until all ingredients are used up.
-Place taquitos in a small baking dish and brush olive oil on top. Bake in oven for 30 minutes, until browned and crispy.
-Serve with sour cream for dipping.

(Adapted, once again, from BrokeAss Gourment, here. The original involves frying and I opted for baking.)

Overall, QUITE good. I had a serving of Spanish rice with the meal, and would probably next time only make myself four taquitos rather than the five.I recommend this very highly--particularly with the sour cream as a condiment.

Now, to settle in for the new Covert Affairs and pick out a new book to read.

I set off on an adventure today. You see, I don't really like to cook meat. This makes me a kind of hypocrite-meat-eater-who-is-too-lame-to-be-a-real-vegetarian, I know. Alex was always the one to handle the ground beef, the spicy Italian sausage, the chicken breast, the pork chops, and the salmon fillets. But I found a recipe on Broke-Ass Gourmet that was irresistible. I had to try it... and it required uncooked shrimp.

At Hy-vee, the Kroger-ish grocery store here in Iowa City, the only raw shrimp still had little legs and, worse, even eyes! I was mortified. I went home in defeat.

But, today, I ventured to the New Pioneer Food Co-Op that is a couple of blocks downtown in search of an avocado. I took a gander at the fresh meat window and counter, and saw that this raw shrimp was not so raw that I would have to deal with eyes and legs and shells. I think it is called "deveined." I bought a half-pound.

So, this evening, for the first time in 22 years, I cooked shrimp.

Almond-Crusted Shrimp over Mixed Greens with Lime Dressing





1/4 lb medium raw shrimp, de-veined, tails-on
1/4 cup raw almonds
2 tbsp whole wheat flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup half-and-half
2 tbsp olive oil
juice of 1 lime, divided
1 clove garlic, smashed
mixed greens
cherry tomatoes, halved
1 avocado, diced
Newman's Own Light Lime Vinaigrette

-Combine 1/2 lime juice and garlic in a bowl. Add shrimp and toss with hands to coat well. Set aside.
-Crush almonds (I used my new Pampered Chef smasher thing). Combine almonds in a bowl with flour and salt. Set aside.
-Set up an assembly line of the seasoned shrimp, the half-and-half, and the almond-flour mixture. Dip each shrimp in the egg white and then dredge in the almond-flour mixture. Set on a clean plate.
-Heat the olive oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Cook shrimp for 2-3 minutes on each side, or until the outside of the shrimp becomes brown and crisp. Drain on paper towels.
-Drizzle salad dressing over mixed greens, tomatoes and avocado. Toss well. Add shrimp.

(I had to adapt the original recipe because I had forgotten to purchase a few of the ingredients. The picture above is off the Broke-Ass Gourmet website as well.)

I would recommend the recipe, absolutely. I only wish I had used more shrimp!

Pear Scones

1 3/4 cups flour (I used whole wheat)
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 pinch salt
1/3 cup butter, chilled
12 cup half-and-half
1 cup chopped pear

-preheat oven to 375
-sift together flour, brown sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt in a large bowl; cut in butter until mix has a crumbly texture
-whisk together egg and half-and-half in a separate bowl, then stir into the dry ingredients and mix until combined
-still in pears
-drop large spoonfuls of dough onto ungreased baking sheet and bake in preheated oven for 15 minutes or until golden brown
-rest briefly to cool before serving

Some of you may remember these--I made them quite a few times last year. I'm not sure how many of them the recipe is supposed to make; this time I had seven. I suspect I made them a little too large and there are meant to be 8.

I am going to set a chair on my little porch and drink some iced pear white tea and eat a scone with it as I finish up Virginia Woolf's The Years. I wish I had someone to share them with!

I finally did it. I finally went to a Mexican food restaurant in Iowa City.

It is, frankly, quite amazing that I managed to hold off this long. My father was here with me for three days, and this is the man who raised me on Tex-Mex at least once a week, and, truly, often twice (though usually we did not inform my mother of the fact). I have been hesitant because, well, it's Iowa City. When I first went to the grocery store, the cashier at Hy-Vee did not recognize a poblano pepper that I was buying, and when I told her what it was she asked me what it was for. In addition, when I visited the university in April, every single person (students and professors alike) that I spoke to told me not to bother with the Mexican food here. Chipotle, they insisted, was the best that Iowa City has offer a gal from Texas.

But this evening I had a conundrum. The pizza dough I was making did not rise, so my butternut squash and rosemary pizza was out of the question. The corn tortillas in the refrigerator had not thawed, so I could not pursue the asparagus taquitos, either. I haven't been to the co-op to purchase fresh shrimp yet, so I could not make the shrimp scampi or almond-crusted shrimp salad with lime dressing. (Note: when I do finally make these things later this week, you will be sure to read about the attempts, possibly complete with photos and recipes). And I was getting hungry.

In my failure to be a decent chef, I sought comfort. And if you know me, you know that my comfort food is Tex-Mex.

I decided upon Carlos O'Kelly's Mexican Cafe because it is very close to my house, and I have noticed on my trips to the grocery store that it often has a pretty good crowd. I ordered the "Enchiladas de Poblano" because I am on a poblano kick. The chips and salsa that came before the meal were extremely disappointing. The tortilla chips tasted like Tostitos straight out of the bag, and the salsa was very tomato-y. It needed cilantro, desperately.

My enchiladas were not bad. The chicken filling was nice and spiced, and moist. If the tortillas were not good, I did not notice. The sauce was different. I expected a sour cream sauce, with poblano peppers throughout. Instead, I got a very poblano-pepper-y sauce that might have had some sour cream for consistency, but you couldn't taste it. They came with a lime on top, but I couldn't get any juice out of it, which was a shame because I think it would have added a lot to the enchiladas.

The beans and rice were no good. I could not eat the rice, which was dry and spiced with all the wrong spices. The beans were sub-par, but only with the addition of the poor salsa.

For 10.00 plus tip, I would say I was disappointed. My meal was worth about 7.50 to me. But hey, at least I know that Mexican food in Iowa City might be edible. I feel up to the task of further exploring the other Mexican establishments, at any rate.

I think it's important

I think it's important to have somewhere other than tumblr for me to post to. First of all, tumblr does not seem to me to be the type of place where one has actual posts with text in them. Secondly, it's just time to have somewhere a little more private to post to.

It has been a long time since I used this blog. A lot has changed. I hope I can keep up with it this time. It might be my very first emotionally-mature blog! What a concept.

The URL is four (five?) years old, dating back to my obsessive love for Achilles. Forgive me my rich fantasy life.

no no no no no no

I know I'm pretty singular, quirky--irreplaceable. It's a good feeling, when I can remember it.

Silliness with Meghan and Kara as well as nighttime Darjeeling Limited viewing with Harmony have saved my night I think.

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all, right? It might be slightly immature to ignore a message that contains unwanted questions and brings up undesirable insecurities, but at the same time it can't be worse than responding in all-out Lauren-Passion. Pondered answers range from viciously cynical to gut-wrenchingly punctuated and precise. The mature thing to do, I feel like, is to wait until my existential crisis is over. I am being very conscious about every decision I make and what it says about me right now. My decision to postpone a fb reply may seem childish, but it seems the lesser of all the possible evils. In any case, I feel like I deserve to be sought out in person or at the very least via telephone.

Harmony and I have bright ideas and aspirations for the near future, including early morning WAC ventures and a sex-zine and

"to say yes to everything, even if it's shocking and painful."

So, I don't really work as a person. I've got to change something and it has to be me, all me, completely internal, done myself out of pure will.

Gavin once told me over the break that my only real, serious flaw is my dependence on others. I can see more clearly than ever what he means. Obvious example being Alex.

Alex stays 3-5 nights a week, generally. The sex is pretty good, the snuggling seems sincere, and before the sex the dialogue is almost always fabulous. But I need to stop feeling like I need him (/just anyone?) to be in my bed at night (not even for sex, but just for holding). I don't need it. Alex is my best friend and sex+snuggling=bonus points. I am going to have to teach myself to enjoy spending time alone again. I used to love alone-time for reading and writing and listening to music purposes. Now I feel like I tend to consider this alone time more of a failure on my part to attract people to my side. Obviously this is not the case--I have several great friends here at Hendrix and of course back in Austin and all over the place. I see a lot of Meghan and Kara and Lily and Zach and Joseph. Harmony and I chill a lot at the House, and I know I could always call Katie and Anna. I've even hung out with Gavin a handful of times, and I never eat lunch in the caf alone. So really it just boils down to Alex, and that is just unhealthy.

Mostly I came to this realization very suddenly last night while listening to a new Decemberists song from Gavin and sitting with all my stuffed animals. I just sort-of burst into tears and started thinking terrible thoughts, and even sought out housemate Zach for sleeping pills. Of course, he wasn't home so I mostly just cried until I told myself to snap out of it and just fucking deal.

Alex most likely does not want to date me, has no romantic feelings for me. It doesn't matter what other people think about it, it doesn't matter what my English major nature wants me to reveal. He's my best friend and I have to TRUST the things he says to me, and I am going to TRUST his October words and his words from Saturday night when he said "we're friends and if you wanted to date someone we would have to stop sleeping together" which I feel like means "all I want from you is your friendship although the sex is a nice bonus." So I am going to have to stop focusing so much energy on it. Guh. Read more and do other things, think about something else.

Anyway, that's my only real epiphany for the moment.

Harmony moved in today, so my existence in this house is infinitely less awkward. We cleaned up the kitchen, gossiped with John Drew, bought dish soap and then cooked pasta with yellow bell pepper for dinner and John Drew made a good salad with feta cheese in it. It felt like a real house finally, and just in time, too. People start arriving tomorrow. Elliott is moving in in the morning. I'm picking Gavin up at the airport around 8 in the evening and Alex is arriving, too. I told him I'm at his disposal, he said he would call me around 2:30 and that he hopes I enjoy running errands and moving boxes.

I am scared.

The last time I saw Gavin was when he came to visit me in Austin, and we said goodbye in the Austin airport tearfully and with kisses and I pleaded with him not to forget me. It is going to be so odd to see him and not be automatically just... touching him. I mean we'll hug and everything but the context is so different, I feel so displaced already. It's easy for us to talk on facebook and gmail chats and to text each other as friends, although the conversations sound exactly the same, Muffin and Schmoo and all. I wonder if that's healthy.

And Alex? He'll call me to say he's here. I guess I'll invite him to stop by the Brick House so we're only in one car and so he can see it. But that will take us upstairs to be alone in my room. And when he steps out of his car, we'll hug but am I going to tug his hair, is he going to feel my curves, and importantly are we going to just kiss? When we said goodbye at the Goodge St station I hugged him and he kissed me, the kiss was all his doing, I didn't know if he would want to leave it on that note but he did, and then I cried when I turned back at the lift to see him still standing there, watching me.

So my question is, what the hell do I wear on the day I am going to see both my most recent ex who still calls me Muffin and the boy I slept with in 6 different countries who is my best friend and may or may not want to continue to sleep with me? I don't know if I can ever look good enough to step outside my house on a day like that. I don't own the right clothes or the right body! I'm not sure anyone does.

I'm sitting here in my huge room in the Brick House and laughing at myself. Because we're not sick of hearing about Alex yet, let me say something on the subject:

I actually just spent 5 minutes trying to think of how I could refer to him. OU lost the championship and I sent him a message that originally said "I'm sorry, hon," and then realized it might be a little to affectionate and familiar and so changed it to "I'm sorry, friend."

Friend? Really? Oh, dear. I am actually ridiculous.

In other news, I'm sitting in my huge room in the Brick House. Oh my god. Hendrix better not really try to take this away from me. I love this room. It's huge. And I have my own bathroom and a door that opens to a wooden staircase outside so I don't ever actually have to go into the rest of the house (I'm not saying I don't want to, it's just cool that I could). There's a recliner a previous resident left and I'm sitting in it right now. Serious bonus points. I have a mini fridge and a microwave and a sink with cabinets and hooks above it that I dangled some mugs from. I have a desk I don't need because I always write papers lying on my tummy in a bed, but whatever it looks more professional. The only problem is that the house was already lived in when I got here... by 4 boys. It is a mess. It is trashy. It's huge and has potential to be beautiful and amazing. The kitchen is a real kitchen but a complete mess. And it smells. The fridge was not cleaned out before break and is full of bad things. Dishes were not washed before the break and are scattered across the countertops. Most of the cookware is going to be gone with Drew who is dropping out, so hopefully the mess will be cleaned but I don't know who is going to empty the fridge so we can start anew. The living room is trashed with loose magazines and papers and clothes and old beer cans. Stuff is just everywhere. It's kind of disappointing--everything needs to be vacuumed and mopped and Windexed and everything needs to be sprayed with Febreeze and the cat just kinda poops wherever it wants (Harmony's soon-to-be-room whenever she gets here, the one next to mine, has cat poop in it so I don't envy her and I would like to thank Blake from the bottom of my heart for keeping our door CLOSED to the cat unless he was supervising. Although Blake also did not take out the trash and I desperately want to vacuum my room and windex all the mirrors and clean the bathtub.

I will have pictures eventually once Gavin gives me the rest of my posters back so I decorate completely. Right now I've only put up one concert poster because a screw was already in the wall perfectly above the mini-fridge.

I don't know where everyone is--Drew's out and Zach was here earlier in a towel but I guess he put clothes on and left, and Harmony was supposed to come this evening but hasn't, so it's just me and the cat. The pooping cat. It's name is Hobbes but it isn't orange so I'm not feelin' it. Also I'm a dog person but we'll see how that goes.

I'm playing that silly game again. I'm getting up at 6:30 in the morning to make 9 hour drive and I still find the time to play this stupid game. Oh dear.

so this is the new year

Official Score

Frisbee: 1
Me: 0






















...Okay, I know I shouldn't be looking at it that way. I should be mature, self-confident, and not feel threatened. But he knows I'm driving up to Conway on Tuesday. He chooses Monday to go up and then changes his mind to going on SUNDAY in order to "play Ultimate" and he "is so excited."

It's difficult not to feel slighted.

And I can see where this is going. This means he has friends in Conway already. This means when he moves in before classes start, it's them he's going to call to help him move and to hang out with and to go shopping for furniture.

I honestly feel like I should just say good-bye to Alex now and get it over with. Because our last good-bye involved a kiss I'm not sure it really counted, and the long messages and skype conversations since were also kind of a hitch in it. But now, now that I had begun to convince myself that continuing a close friendship was possible... it's time. He said he was glad he talked to me at midnight on new year's as well, but I was tipsy so he probably just didn't want to upset me. Oh well.

I really need to get back to Hendrix so I can find some other things to think about.

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
really truly cook, trip on shrooms, take absinthe, have sex while others were in the room, cook naked, drink beer in the shower, a great number of things involving foreign travel and living in England

[2.] Did you keep all of last year's resolutions?
I doubt it as I probably resolved to lose weight, which I did but I gained it back.

[3.] Have you any resolutions for next year?
Absolutely.

[4.] What countries did you visit?
England, Ireland, The Netherlands, Belgium, France, and Spain.

[5.] What would you like to have in 2009 that you didn't have in 2008?
some self-suffiency, less dependence on others, more of a sense of self-worth

[6.] What date in 2008 will remain etched in your memory?
December 4, the day I left London. I'm not big with dates, so I think I might also say I don't think I will ever forget that beach in Barcelona.

[7.] What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I'm not sure. Probably not getting disasterously lost/mugged in any of 6 foreign countries.

[8.]What was your biggest failure?
anything involving the opposite sex from September to December

[9.] Did you suffer any illness or injury?
I had either the stomach flu or food poisoning back in I think February and that was kind of awful. I told Gavin to bring me "the big knife" so I guess that means I would rather have died than been experiencing it. I also had a kind of epic cold from Thanksgiving until a little while after I returned from London.

[10.]What was the best thing you bought?
That's difficult. The red dress with white polka dots from the vintage store in Paris is up there because of the memories associated with it, although one could also say all the plane and train tickets I bought to other European countries were the best. Maybe even the shrooms in Amsterdam.

[11.] Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
Probably my own, to be honest.

[12.] Where did most of your money go?
Pints of Guiness, Foster's, and Hoegaarden.

[13.] What did you get really really really excited about?
Ethnic food! The weekend my roommate went to Barcelona and I got to cook and eat naked--and yes, not alone.

[14.]What songs will always remind you of 2008?
Werewolf by cocorosie, both God of Wine and Motorcycle Drive By by Third Eye Blind, I'm Yours by Jason Mraz, Inherited Scars by Sage Francis

[15.] Compared to this time last year are you :
[A] Fatter or thinner? about the same
[B] Happier or sadder? just as confused as ever
[C] Richer or poorer? so much poorer

[17.] What do you wish you'd done less of?
crying for no reason

[18.] How will you be spending Christmas?
It was nothing special.

[19.] Did you fall in love in 2008?
Yes, although that did not ultimately work out.

[20.] How many one night stands?
None.

[21] What was your favourite TV show?
I got really into Reba.

[22.] Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
No.

[23.] What was/were the best books you read?
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, She Came to Stay by Simone de Beauvoir

[24.] What was your greatest musical discovery?
My Brightest Diamond, Shearwater, and probably most notably Alex is instilling an appreciation of rap and hiphop in me.

[25.] What did you want and get?
A lot of sex. Seeing Okkervil River in London. Dresses in Paris.

[26.] What did you want and not get?
clarification, the joy of completing a short story, skinny

[27.] What was your favourite film this year?
I didn't see many new films this year, but I continued to watch The Darjeeling Limited constantly.

[28.] What did you do on your birthday and how old were you?
I turned 20, and drove with Gavin from Austin to Conway. Hollis had made me cupcakes which was the best surprise of the day.

[29.] What one thing would have made your year more satisfying?
if I had cried less when drunk, and handled things with Alex much better at the beginning

[30.] How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
cinch belts and high-waist skirts, or skinny jeans with cowboy boots

[31.] What kept you sane?
quite possibly sex.

[32.] Which celebrity did you fancy the most?
I remember telling Alex in a bar in Barcelona when the music video for "Make it Mine" came on the telly, "Jason Mraz is the epitome of my type of man." James McAvoy gets points from Becoming Jane.

[33.] Which political issue stirred you the most?
the economy sucking has sucked

[34.] Who did you miss?
Gavin, intensely.

[35.] Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned this year?
Chill out.

[36.] Quote a song lyric that sums up your year...
"How do I get back there to
The place where I fell asleep inside you?
How do I get myself back to
The place where you said

I want something else
To get me through this
Semi-charmed kind of life
I want something else
I'm not listening when you say
Good-bye"
--from Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

I want to write an anthology of short stories called "These Things Happened."

I absolutely refuse to be the first to speak. He knows I'm on facebook, I know he's on facebook. He knows when I'm on facebook that I'm on skype. And three or four times this has led him to log onto skype and say something so random or irrelevant it's awkward. I know I'm thinking about it too much. If he wanted to talk to me, he would. I want to ask him to call me at midnight on New Year's. What purpose would that serve? Whenever I've even vaguely referenced anything leading back to our sentimental/sexual moments he's dodged them. It could be that the references were so vague that he didn't get them, but I tend to imagine the worst. I want to say "since you aren't doing anything on New Year's Eve I thought you could call me at midnight; after all, if we were in London you would be my midnight kiss."

WHAT A BAD IDEA.

He never sent me any postcards from Greece. What the hell should I expect? I thought I could maybe count on his friendship, since he answers my messages. But this is absurd. The moment we get back to Hendrix all I will know is an overwhelming disappointment.

and right now, I honestly truly believe that I think I wish I had never gone to stupid London or at least never shared that stupid bottle of wine that stupid first potluck night with previously mentioned stupid person and I definitely wish I had never gotten lost on Oxford St that night after Walkabout on Lily's birthday with him and MORE THAN ANYTHING I wish I had never stayed in the room with him that Saturday and gone out with everyone else and not stayed and not had sex and not fallen asleep and not kept doing it for months on end and I wish I had never cried or vomited or confessed or given that handjob or ANY OF IT particularly fall break and Barcelona and I HATE THAT RED DRESS with the white polka dots and I hate dinosaur ties and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and the word "sous-cheffy" and the phrase "so it goes" and I hate myself a lot right now too.

I spend a great deal of time at work, which is a little frustrating because I never have time to just sit at a coffeehouse and read. Yet I am making a decent amount of money, and I do enjoy talking to the ladies I work with. So much for writing about my daily life, eh? Alex and I have been sending messages back and forth ever since we left London, and today I realized I had nothing interesting to say about my day without going into unnecessary detail about a not particularly interesting job. Does anyone actually want to hear about the how clueless the north Austin store was and how cute this old lady was who kept trying on ugly jackets? No, not really. I spent all day in the fitting room though, in my black skinnies, surrounded by mirrors. So if I learned anything today, it was that I need to be hitting up the WAC quite a bit upon returning to Hendrix in, what, two weeks?

I think about that return more often than I should.

Each December I have ever experienced in college has been one where my position in life and with certain people was completely unclear to me. Now that Gavin and I are most certainly only going to be friends, I have no real base to begin from. I have no idea who I will spend my time with, who will want to see me on a regular basis and not just "every now and then" (the words I got from Gavin when I asked if we would still do our homework together and read each other interesting bits from our textbooks). Despite what I tell him, I'm still terrified that Alex is going to conveniently forget my existence when he gets back with his frisbee comrades. I sneakily get him to say that we will do things in January so that at least if he does abandon me, I can be self-righteous and smug and say that he lied, that he was breaking promises. It's either very immature or very clever, and I can't decide which. I don't know why I distrust him so. I trust everyone else from London to keep in touch, and that's silly because he's the one who writes to me every day! He responds to my messages without fail and I haven't gotten Zach to reply to my texts half the time... and yet I absolutely believe in Zach's friendship.

In reading She Came to Stay (by Simone de Beauvoir), I began to absolutely question myself. I question how I see myself, how others must see myself, what exactly "myself" even is. Sometime I wonder if I am doing things in layers. If I am consciously acting out a conscious version of what I pretend is my subconscious, if that even makes sense. Am I fooling myself into fooling myself? I don't know. My head hurts just thinking about it.

So it's a good thing I'm reading Invisible Monsters now, because it's well-written and not as deep, certainly not philosophical. I'm entertained mostly by the number of things I find that are obviously being referenced in Panic! at the Disco's song Time to Dance.

I need some serious New Year's resolutions, but the only ones I can really think of are

1. lose weight
2. save money
3. write more
4. stop being effected by every damn thing ever

And on that note, I am going to write or read now.

I am considering a revival, don't worry. More when I am not exhausted.