9.30.2001

a fun night was had by vickie. i got home from work tonight tired--happy that i got to do so much today (it felt like i got EVERY SINGLE call about a game--therefore 80% of the roundups in the f tomorrow are by yours truly), but exhausted nonethelless (why is typing so diffiuclt?), and my bethy was home. so we decided to go out to the moulin rouge socail (another shawn d. event--who can pass it up?). i had a blast hanging out with her--our schedules are both insane, but i love it when we do get time to be silly with one another. there's nothing like coming home after a long day of work (do i sound 35 or what?) and having a friend there to make me smile. :)

the funniest moment of the night was either 1) chris walking in in a white polyester running suit, complete with white visor work backwards and upside down or 2) chris pulling out every '80s dance move known to man. that kid cracks me up...ah, amusement.

now i must sleep because i have the fucking newspaper tomorrow.

9.29.2001

personality test time...let's see the results:

i am, apparently, an INFP. what does this mean?The Idealist

As an INFP, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your personal value system. Your secondary mode is external, where you take things in primarily via your intuition.

INFPs, more than other iNtuitive Feeling types, are focused on making the world a better place for people. Their primary goal is to find out their meaning in life. What is their purpose? How can they best serve humanity in their lives? They are idealists and perfectionists, who drive themselves hard in their quest for achieving the goals they have identified for themselves

INFPs are highly intuitive about people. They rely heavily on their intuitions to guide them, and use their discoveries to constantly search for value in life. They are on a continuous mission to find the truth and meaning underlying things. Every encounter and every piece of knowledge gained gets sifted through the INFP's value system, and is evaluated to see if it has any potential to help the INFP define or refine their own path in life. The goal at the end of the path is always the same - the INFP is driven to help people and make the world a better place.

Generally thoughtful and considerate, INFPs are good listeners and put people at ease. Although they may be reserved in expressing emotion, they have a very deep well of caring and are genuinely interested in understanding people. This sincerity is sensed by others, making the INFP a valued friend and confidante. An INFP can be quite warm with people he or she knows well.

INFPs do not like conflict, and go to great lengths to avoid it. If they must face it, they will always approach it from the perspective of their feelings. In conflict situations, INFPs place little importance on who is right and who is wrong. They focus on the way that the conflict makes them feel, and indeed don't really care whether or not they're right. They don't want to feel badly. This trait sometimes makes them appear irrational and illogical in conflict situations. On the other hand, INFPs make very good mediators, and are typically good at solving other people's conflicts, because they intuitively understand people's perspectives and feelings, and genuinely want to help them.

INFPs are flexible and laid-back, until one of their values is violated. In the face of their value system being threatened, INFPs can become aggressive defenders, fighting passionately for their cause. When an INFP has adopted a project or job which they're interested in, it usually becomes a "cause" for them. Although they are not detail-oriented individuals, they will cover every possible detail with determination and vigor when working for their "cause".

When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. They might go for long periods without noticing a stain on the carpet, but carefully and meticulously brush a speck of dust off of their project booklet.

INFPs do not like to deal with hard facts and logic. Their focus on their feelings and the Human Condition makes it difficult for them to deal with impersonal judgment. They don't understand or believe in the validity of impersonal judgment, which makes them naturally rather ineffective at using it. Most INFPs will avoid impersonal analysis, although some have developed this ability and are able to be quite logical. Under stress, it's not uncommon for INFPs to mis-use hard logic in the heat of anger, throwing out fact after (often inaccurate) fact in an emotional outburst.

INFPs have very high standards and are perfectionists. Consequently, they are usually hard on themselves, and don't give themselves enough credit. INFPs may have problems working on a project in a group, because their standards are likely to be higher than other members' of the group. In group situations, they may have a "control" problem. The INFP needs to work on balancing their high ideals with the requirements of every day living. Without resolving this conflict, they will never be happy with themselves, and they may become confused and paralyzed about what to do with their lives.

INFPs are usually talented writers. They may be awkard and uncomfortable with expressing themselves verbally, but have a wonderful ability to define and express what they're feeling on paper. INFPs also appear frequently in social service professions, such as counselling or teaching. They are at their best in situations where they're working towards the public good, and in which they don't need to use hard logic.

INFPs who function in their well-developed sides can accomplish great and wonderful things, which they will rarely give themselves credit for. Some of the great, humanistic catalysts in the world have been INFPs.

Jungian functional preference ordering:

Dominant: Introverted Feeling
Auxiliary: Extraverted Intuition
Tertiary: Introverted Sensing
Inferior: Extraverted Thinking


blearg. i've been tired all day, and defender has frustrated the HELL out of me.

jim jeffords and pat leahy came to campus today for a "town meeting"--if you want to call it that. it was mainly the two of them speaking, everyone clapping, five (yes, FIVE) questions from the other attendees of said "town meeting", then everyone clapping, then everyone leaving. i got a lot of pictures for the paper, and afterwards, i was trying to get an interview with the leahy man (shamelessly playing upon the fact that he graduated from smc), but so were a lot of tv reporters and, apparently, some guy from "rolling stone", in the ultimate of randomness...but he was gracious (extreme sarcasm) enough to let me ask him one question.

so glad the guy is willing to help out future journalists. it's a beautiful thing to see.

but whatever. then i had to cover convocation. i mainly laughed at the faculty in their formal regalia. kimberly walked by during processional and made a "why am i here in this funny dress and even funnier hat why the hell did i go through with getting my doctorate" look. i laughed, as did she. fun times...

and another day at the f tomorrow, all during which i will be sitting there with the realization that paddy casey is playing just a few streets away at the waterfront...and my luck they'll have all the windows closed so i won't even be able to hear. ALL I WANT IS TO HEAR RAINWATER!!!!

so instead, i'm adding it to my sleeping playlist. not much of a consolation. ;)

9.28.2001

an amusing evening. "rosencrantz" in mccarthy--during which i realized how long it's been since i sat in one place for more than an hour watching something--which resulted in me wanting to fall asleep (someone beat me to it though...grr). why chris really calls me victory (hehehe), and then a few hours of roaming about campus, which i didn't expect, but was pleased to encounter. i think i made a mild jackass out of myself, but it's alright i think...whatever, i don't even really care anymore--well, i do, but what am i going to do? nothing. because i'm weak--or smart. but i think just weak.

only the second time i have experienced crowdsurfing in a house here on the lovely smc campus--fine holiday fun. but i'm exhausted (quality boone's farm mixed with lack of sleep makes for a tired me) so i think i'll just get the kirk stuff done tomorrow.

9.27.2001

i'm such a fool sometimes. for example, sitting here grinning like a fool just because i heard someone's voice. why the hell does it make me so happy? it's not like anything is ever going to come of it, not like he'll ever even know, but i'm sitting here grinning like an idiot, nonetheless.
AURGH!!!!

my body seems incapable of functioning, particularly when it is required to get me to work at user support.

i need a day of nothing--a day of no responsibilities. i'm looking at my schedule, and it's pretty grim--tonight rosencrantz & guilderstern are dead in mccarthy (have to watch it for arcadia--this isn't bad, though, cause i've always wanted to see it), stopping by either ryan or meg's house before or after, tomorrow going to the town meeting in mccarthy, where leahy and jeffords will be, hopefully interview them, but take pictures of it and cover it for defender, then possibly swing by the "40s and wifebeaters party", saturday working (while PADDY CASEY is playing at the waterfront, grr of the big fucking variety), then making appearances at both the social and a birthday party, sunday defender (hopefully not until later in the afternoon, however), monday defender (hopefully not late, though), and then, finally, a day mostly free on tuesday.

today is thursday. how do i make it til tuesday?!?!?

9.26.2001

i went grocery shopping this afternoon and wound up with new music to boot. i found jeff buckley--"live at sin-e" at pure pop and had to buy it--as well as travis' "the invisible band" because i've been meaning to pick it up. so now i have food and new music. yippee...

i'm tired and i have a cold. and i have to start writing my creative non-fiction piece for liz and i'm fighting the urge to make a jackass out of myself. AURGH...

9.25.2001

alright, i'm a sentimental kind of girl. i admit this. i cry whenever i see "mystery, alaska." i cried my eyes out when i first saw "the little mermaid," and odds are good i still would cry (just haven't seen it in awhile).

but at the same time, i tend to hold back on the whole exuding mushiness and happiness thing.

but right now i just feel so ridiculously gushey and lovey and silly, and it feels so good.

*happy sigh of contentment*

oh yeah, paper's done. i won't be lovey and gushey on wednesday with the staff (but i'll feel it on the inside).

now i sleep. i must drive the paper to georgia tomorrow.

9.24.2001

a conundrum, if you will.

it is 10:00. the sections should have been done hours ago. i am pissed off and exhausted, not even listening to john's show at paradise is making me feel better. i already made it clear that output is being collected at 11. i don't care what isn't done. it's not my fault, and we should not have to be in here for twelve hours on a monday. fuck that. i am pissed off and frankly, i've done everything i'm supposed to.
i am utterly exhausted--defender is kicking my ass today. but at least the light at the end of the tunnel seems to be approaching.
i have had some amazing experiences, but nothing quite like this past weekend. i know i normally spill my guts here, sharing my highs and lows, joys and sorrows, but i wouldn't be able to put it in words, even if i tried. i'll simply say that i feel happy, i feel loved, and i feel content.

and if you have a chance, go on LEAP.

9.19.2001

tonight after the story meeting, i was shooting the shit with m.d. and we wound up looking through files of randomness in the lab--among the finds was an issue of "the michaelmen" (defender waaay back in the day) from november, 1960 (back when smc was still men-only) and a 1999 press kit for ani, a fantastic find! mike almost tossed it, i squealed and snatched it. something like that cannot be thrown in there with common trash--are you kidding me?

the michaelmen was an interesting find--seeing a newspaper so yellowed and fragile makes me realize that in thirty years, the one we just put out will be as well...hard to imagine, but reality...i found myself criticizing glaring a.p. errors--granted back then the a.p. rules were drastically different, if the paper followed a.p. at all--what can i say, once and editor, always an editor. it was a surreal experience to be reading about interviews with doc jacobs about his basketball team, when all we know of doc jacobs now is the soccer/baseball fields and a lot of plaques and pictures in ross...plus reading about buildings i've never heard of before and reading that banana splits and sodas were only thirty cents. it's a bit of good-old-fashioned-americana-nostalgia, so hard to realize that that's how things were back then, as opposed to us joking about how things used to be. it makes me think about when people come across a random copy of the defender years down the road, flipping through the pages, seeing our names, and being surprised that things the way they are now are absolutely nothing like they'll be when this random person is reading it.

bleargh. enough of my rambling. must do creative writing assignments and sleep tonight.
first defender of the year--*sigh of contentment* i got a little excited about it.

paul wants me to stick around the defender next semester. "if you want it, it's yours." i shouldn't, i really really shouldn't...but i have a feeling i'll be back in the spring. how can i keep away from this thing?
let's say a singer was going to play at smc. and i really wanted to see him or her play. of COURSE it would be when i might be IN THE FUCKING MAINSTAGE!!!

this curse is getting ridiculous.
i should sleep. i've been watching "notting hill" since rehearsal let out--hoping i could pick up on the accent. kirk's having us rehearse with it, and if i can get on that stage and bust out a british accent, my life will be complete. i'm thinking about falling asleep to the movie started over again as a sort of osmosis--i'll wake up tomorrow with a british accent that i can't stop speaking in.

what a wonderful world it would be.

i'm a very tired girl, and i'm afraid to go to bed because i know it'll be even worse tomorrow. but a few good things. 1) no call from the printer, so perhaps that means they didn't have any problems. which means the paper should look good tomorrow (TOMORROW?!?! yay...) 2) not too much work tomorrow

i was going to go over and visit with christopher tonight, but i'd promised myself i'd go to bed early. shit. i wouldn't have been fun anyway, i would have curled up in a little ball and fallen asleep. there will be other times to visit with him.

stood outside with a candle on the 200s mound with some other smcers at 10:30 tonight for the whole satellite photo event--i'm looking forward to seeing the picture to see how it came out. if anything, it was a wonderful idea, and it would rock my world if it was visible...we'll see.

elizabeth's ben folds concert photos look great--make me wish i could have been at the show (in case you didn't read my huge rant, i really wanted to attend), and i must say that any man who can wear a backwards baseball cap and play on one of those keyboard guitar-type deals (what's the official name for those, anyway?) and produce amazing music like he can automatically gets my utmost respect and adoration. rock.

i am now forcing myself to sleep.

9.18.2001

JACK JOHNSON IS PLAYING AT HIGHER GROUND ON NOVEMBER 16.
i love seeing what searches on google bring up my site. this one is a personal favorite thus far.
All of us here want to extend our deepest sympathy to all of those affected by last week's tragedy in NYC, Washington,DC and PA. In addition our admiration goes out to everyone who came together and continue to work day and night in the rescue and recovery....... Nothing I could type here can even begin to describe how gut-wrenching this event has been for our country as a whole.....and for each of us individually, and I only hope we can each find within ourselves a way to move forward

We will have a donation area set up at the merch table for our shows starting Thursday in Boston, and we encourage each and every one of you to help out in any way you can......be it financially or otherwise.
--shawn, howie's manager, from the hdtb

very cool, howie.

so yes, i'm exhausted. when the paper was put to bed, it was 5:30 a.m. this morning. yes. then i got home and caught some errors, went to bed around 7 and i went back around 9 or 9:30 to fix them. then put it to bed again, then went to the printer to drop it off.

i want to sleep so desperate--i took an hour-long nap which helped, i think. this morning i asked michelle to wake me up, which she did, and bethy checked in on me too. i remember next to nothing of the events, i felt like i was absolutely shitfaced. bethy says i was very funny in my borderline-dilusional state. billy best came into the house at some point to look for the donation jug, i'm told now, and he was worried that he'd scared me. i don't remember much of anything--from what he was saying, i guess i was in the shower or something. i thought i would have remembered seeing him at least--guess i didn't. whatever.

i'm happy about how it should come out when we get it back from the printers tomorrow. not happy about what's in it (how can you be?), but happy about how it should come out. very respectful, informative, and welldone. in my humble opinion. everyone worked hard.

this is my subtle way of saying if you have a problem with the paper tomorrow, do not tell me, because i'll rip your head off. :)

i have to relax for awhile, arcadia rehearsal at 7. i MUST stay awake i MUST stay awake...

9.17.2001

16 hours spent in the defender lab working with everyone to get this paper going.

let me just say that i am so proud of everyone--it was rough going for awhile--ok, a great deal of the time--but it's coming together. it's not the type of issue where i'm going to sit back and want to celebrate its publication, but it is the type of issue where i'm going to be able to pat everyone on the back and say, "know what? this issue really means something. and we put it together. and we did a great job with it and we should be so proud."

julia roberts states in "notting hill" that "newsprint is forever." one of the reasons i love what i do.

on an amusing note, apparently i (along with my housemates, who rock my world!) am a member of the "student leadership of st. mike's." i still maintain that a key factor in this is the fact that i'm the face of the print journalism this semester (or year, depending on if i get suckered into sticking around bergeron second semester--or if i decide i want to beat myself up again--i mean, if i decide that i can't keep myself away--i am a sucker for punishment... :)

so tired. and kirk class at 10:30, at which i know i will be a zombie...

9.16.2001

this is vickie. this is vickie freaking out. this is no editors in yet at 1p.m. this is vickie having made calls and getting really frustrated.

why the hell did i want to do this again?
tenatively speaking (since actual grading isn't complete yet), i'm only 9% dipshit.

this makes me feel better.

take it, it tickles me.

yes, alyx, i got it from your site. ;)
another reason i adore ben stein.
venting is about to commence. if you're going to say, "but vic, you wanted to do all this stuff," don't fucking read it.

everyone else is allowed to vent. everyone else is allowed to do whatever because they can and because i'm supposed to take the high road. and be better than all that. and pick up the pieces and deal with it all.

ben folds played in boston tonight. when i first found out ben folds was playing boston, i was so excited about going. his new albulm rocks my fucking world. it makes me laugh, it makes me think, and "still fighting it" makes me cry almost every time. so i HAD to be at this show.

but obligations interfered. opportunities that i really couldn't pass up. things that would look good on my resume. duties to follow through on, because if i don't, who will? so i didn't buy my tickets, and i didn't go. i went to my job like a good little girl and listened to someone talk off my ear about a stupid baseball team that i don't give a flying fuck about. so you want a story about your precious little team in the newspaper. i'm a fucking CLERK. i can't do anything. talk to ted. talk to mike. talk to anyone but me. just STOP FUCKING TALKING.

and i knew that if i went to the show tonight, i wouldn't be in any shape to get home in time for defender tomorrow. and i need to be there for tomorrow all day because i have to show everyone what to do. even when i don't know what the fuck i'm doing 75% of the time. so again, no show.

know what i did this weekend instead? i spent last night watching a movie hoping someone would decide to grace me with his presence. and when he didn't, i felt sad and curled up in bed watching another movie. keeping in mind that i had to be good because i had to work today.

and what did i do today? i worked all day, came home, went to visit people, had to leave early because i had to be in bed early because i have to work all fucking day on the newspaper tomorrow. and feeling like a lot of the stuff i'll have to do myself, or worse, i'll have to be all nice to people for doing things they should have already done anyway. like they're being so great. and it's not that i don't think they're great people, and not that they're not doing a good job, but honestly. it's so fucking hard.

i feel like i need to get out for a bit and just do something and forget that i've got these obligations and these fucking duties and whatever the hell else i could try to say to describe them. but i don't know what i could do or where i could go and i just tried to and i felt stupid for even trying and i don't want to burden anyone else with a hysterical vickie right now. and i just feel bad about it. and i feel like i need to just go out somewhere and scream or kick things or hurt things or whatever, but i can't. because it's not anyone else's problem. it's mine. because it feels like i took on too much and told myself that i'm stronger than i am. and that i just need to grin and bear it for a little bit and then it'll get better. and i know it will. it's just so hard right now and i feel like there's just so much in me that needs to get out somehow, but i don't know how. and that it's making me do less instead of using it properly and fueling myself to do more. and it's so annoying.

i'm just so annoyed. with all the bullshit. i just need to take deep cleansing breaths and remind myself that it's all a part of the process. it's growing up. it's just how things are. and i need to accept it and work with it rather than try to rebel against it. i can use my energy productively. "for good instead of evil." hehehehe...i wonder if this is how anakin felt before he joined the dark side?

at least i can make myself laugh. i'm turning to the evil side. sleep with one eye open. ;)

ah...venting can be such a good thing. now i'll collapse into sleep with the help of a john cusack movie. "being john malkovich."

venting is now offer, please proceed with normal existance.

9.15.2001

a few hours ago, i walked back towards my house, every step echoing the thought going through my head.

STUPID! STUPID!

now i realize it wasn't stupid, because i was reading too much into a nice gesture and it wasn't stupid of me afterall. actually probably a good thing so i didn't make a complete fool of myself.

john provided the highlight of my night: "hey, heard from the james dean guy lately?"
me: "yes, actually, he IMed me on tuesday."
john: "weren't you two like..."
me: "we were talking."
john: "talking???"
me: "yes. talking."
john: "what was wrong with him?"
me: "well, for starters he's in rhode island, and other than that, all i really know is that he's a clone of a dead movie star."
collin: "what is this????"

hahahahahaha...

9.14.2001

this comes from today's new york times. one of the best editorials i've ever read.

The Call

Of all the heart-rending stories that emerged from Tuesday's disaster, what resonates most, somehow, is the thought of those phone calls that went out in the all-too-brief gap between the first airliner's crash into the World Trade Center and the towers' final collapse.

People trapped in hijacked airplanes or burning buildings picked up their cell phones, or swiped a credit card through the phone on the back of a seat, and made a final call. Facing sudden death, they were given the chance to say a few last words to a loved one. Almost invariably, they chose things that they probably said every day — I love you. Take care of the children. Take care of yourself. The sentiments surely sounded inadequate as they were spoken, if only because they would have to stand in for a lifetime of words that could no longer be said.

In almost every human tragedy, there is an ungraspable gap between the ordinary, everyday objects that somehow become absorbed in it and the gravity of the event itself. Cell phones have become such routine, indispensable irritants in ordinary life that we forget the ways they have reinvented the act of conversation. Because of the informality that often arises from the frequency with which we use them, we tend to talk on them with friends and family almost as if we were together in person, saying nothing much, perhaps, in the unexpressed knowledge that the joy of talking together regularly doesn't require saying much. All that matters sometimes — and for some people Tuesday was one of those times — is the sound of a welcome voice.

Since cell-phone technology first came into common use in the past few years, there have been instances where someone trapped, nearing death, was able to call home and say goodbye. But there has been no instance like that on Tuesday, when so many doomed people called the most meaningful number they knew from wherever they happened to be and prayed that someone would pick up on the other end. Some were disappointed, and left messages on answering machines.

Nearly all the conversations that took place as the disaster unfolded would have been unmemorable if it weren't clear that the person on one end of the line was facing death. That phrase, "facing death," is a very old one, so familiar that we have forgotten how literal its meaning can be. Most of us face away from dying. That is part of what being alive means. But on Tuesday morning, an uncounted number of humans knowingly turned their faces toward death — even if they only meant to escape down the stairwell — and as they did so pressed the talk button on their cell phones. What haunts us in the aftermath is the silence at those numbers that have now gone out of service.
words cannot even begin to describe the experiences i've had over the past ten hours. i'm immensely proud to be a student at st. michael's, i'm proud to be an american, and right now, despite all that has happened, i'm feeling nothing but waves of love coming at me.

i'll describe later--i just need to revel in these feelings right about now.

9.13.2001

MOTHERFUCKING BRAN'DO IS OPENING FOR HOWIE AT PARADISE.

the gods are STILL FUCKING LAUGHING!!!!!!
i heard back from clint. he normally works about two miles from the pentagon, but he was on his way to baltimore when the plane struck, so he was fine. and everyone he knows is ok--both in d.c. and in nyc.

still glued to the television--and since i'm at work, glued to cnn.com.
besides the fact that i've been watching the news constantly all day (plus figuring out coverage for the defender), i've also been getting in touch with people to make sure they're ok--jesse (who's in boston, but i didn't know if he was taking any flights or anything--thankfully he's fine), kathleen (who i know is ok but i just sent email to anyway), and yes, because i'm pathetic, clint--who i know really should be fine, but i was thinking of him, so i figured what the hell.

still hoping to contact tony, chris, get something out to jen & ben...

9.12.2001

just look at this. so powerful, beautiful, invincible.

and now it's gone, and we'll never see it the same way again.

it is impossible to wrap my brain around. the sheer numbers alone--let's say at least 20,000 people work there (very low numbers i'm working with for simplicity's sake). that's ten times the population of my college. ten times the number of people in my hometown in one structure. and then to have everything change within the span of a couple of hours--it's unheard of.

add to that the pentagon, the rumors (some say confirmed, others not) of the stage department, the pennsylvania crash--i was staring at my television in utter disbelief.

it doesn't seem possible that something that's always (in my lifetime, that is) been there, something i look for regularly when i go to new york--something that is so identifiable to me is just up and gone. that there are people i know in new york, and i don't know if they're safe. that our nation's center for SECURITY was partially taken out by a plane--that they (whoever the hell they were) were ABLE to strike us so massively. it takes all of the perceptions of our strength and power and invulnerability and throws it out the window.

older people have always told me how lucky my generation has been because we haven't existed during an assassination like jfk. we haven't been through vietnam. we've lived in a time of relative peace (again, i stress the relative part). and i never got it until after i turned on my television and learned just how fucked up things have become.

and what's scary is that we have no idea of what's coming now. war? further attack? my worst nightmare and the draft? my brother is 18. let's say we go to war and they start the draft up again. i could not deal with the fact that my brother could be sent somewhere to die. WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG. he and i are both at our schools, trying to get our educations so we can make names for ourselves and have a happy life. i don't want him shipped off to a fucking war. not to mention my friends...the people i've come to love...

this just makes everything so insignificant. and i don't feel completely safe anymore. hell, a few months ago, i thought nothing of wandering around washington d.c. in the afternoon because i knew i was around other people and i would be safe.

safe??? i don't want to get on an airplane any time soon. i don't plan on walking around anywhere by myself--so much for exploring like i love...my sense of comfort and safety has been ripped away.

am i overreacting? perhaps. i mean, i'm in vermont. not exactly a terrorist hotspot, unless they want to destory the cow population. but did i think i'd be in harm when i wandered d.c.? did i think anything when i walked with shawnalea, roaming new york city? did i think that when i went to the top of the empire state building in march and looked (as i always do) over at the world trade center that that would be the last time i would ever see it?

it's insane. and we're thrust into it--as observers, as family members, as friends, and, in my case, as journalists who have to cover it. i realized that in a year, i'm going to be doing this stuff for a living--and that scares me as well.

i know i'll wake up tomorrow and think it was all just a nightmare. but it's reality, and it scares the shit out of me.

but i know i'll always remember what i was doing on september 11, 2001.

9.11.2001

jen kelly one word one space paid me a compliment about my musical taste this afternoon--i thought it was rather neat. :) i also gave riggott some names to check out for potential coffeehouse performers--gave him contact info for mr. mayer (think positively, at least hope for higher ground), also pushed the howie idea (like that's a surprise--but i'm not the only one interested in getting him back here!), and told him about ben kweller and virginia coalition. i've been trying to think of others who would be cool to have around--matt nathanson's interested in coming back, so i hear, which makes me incredibly happy, and who else? if i wasn't doing defender, coffeehouse would have been the sweetest job--i'd just about keel over in happiness...
there have to be more that i can think of who might be interested in playing there...

9.10.2001

again, i feel the need to do the world a service, since so many people stumble across this little spot looking for howie day tablature. go to hdaee.net, there is a tablature area there, or the howie day trading board, where there is a musicians' forum. :)
i might put the links at the top of the page, just to be nice.
i am so sick of worrying about/getting confused about my schedule at user support. i don't do mornings. i hate mornings. especially mondays. add to that the fact that all of this is speculative "if we can't get someone else" crap and all i want is to work my 4.5 hours and be done for the week. i don't have time to deal with a lot of shit!

this was prompted by being informed that i was still scheduled for this morning and didn't realize it

9.09.2001

WE STILL HAVE THE COFFEEHOUSE!!! which means live music will still be available on campus, which means i am a much happier girl. i'd been worried about it's future, now i feel better.
oh, i got rid of the guestbook, by the way. in case you were wondering.

thanks to my girls tonight. i'm sorry i was bitchy, but i really did have fun hanging out with you tonight.

oh, and kevin earned a gold star for the day by bringing me this. the first three tracks are good (as buckley obviously is), but hallelujah...amazing. it's been one of my favorite songs lately anyway, but this version blows the grace version out of the water. SO good. and soothing to me right now as i listen to it.
i know i get in moods where i'm whiny and convinced no one likes me and all that jazz. and i know it's normal growing pain (minus kirk cameron, but leonardo would be nice) type of shit, and i know just as quickly as i can get in these moods, i can also get out of them and love everyone. it's called being a Young Adult (whatever the hell that one means).

but honestly, it was so hard at the social tonight. i almost left early, and while i'm glad i didn't (because my girls rock and they MADE me have fun), it sucks to be watching everyone else running up and talking to everyone else or just randomly starting to dance with everyone else and everyone else seeming to have a fun time. and feeling like you're the only frown in a sea of smiles.

i don't want to be friends with a lot of the fake people. no matter how much i use them as an example, i don't want to be a part of Them. i dealt with that in high school, and i have been determined to not deal with it in college.

it's not the people that bothers me. it's the feeling of belonging that i miss. no matter how much high school was stupid (because we all had to get along because there were practically 12 of us), when things happened, i was right there in with it. i knew what was going on because i was there doing it. and maybe i was walking around with blinders, but it felt like people wanted me to be there in it, to a degree.

i have some amazing friends, and i'm thankful every day that i made the right decision and came to this school. i can just imagine elmira (oh wait, i'd rather not) or ithaca (competition ruling my life for four years), and i know that i wouldn't be happy like i am here anywhere else.

it just means so much to have someone come up to me and give me a hug and ask how i'm doing and really want to know. and people that i thought would always be there with that hug and that desire to know aren't there for me. and it's not like i want these people constantly coming up to me and wanting to know How I'm Really Doing all the time like some sick afterschool special. i just don't like feeling like i'm standing by someone in a crowded room and they walk away to find someone Better to talk to. and yeah, maybe a lot of it is perception. anyone who knows me well knows that i don't exactly have the highest regard for myself a great deal of the time. but i just don't have many reasons to think otherwise. if i thought i was Miss Thang or something, maybe it would all be different. and that self-awareness and self-esteem would radiate to everyone else and they would realize that they WANT to be talking to me because i rock their worlds or something. but i'm not like that. i can't be like that. i can be great at doing something--that's why i'm doing so much this semester.

i just have the hardest time in the world just being me. and that, my darling readers, truly sucks.
it is so ridiculously hot.

senior social tonight. drunken revelry that i could not partake in because i am not of the legal drinking age. grrr. but dancing was pretty amusing, except for being beaten by flailing limbs and being spanked by shaun d. you know, there are some things a girl just should NOT experience. i had a pretty decent time once i forced myself to not think about who either wasn't there, or once he was there, wasn't around...i don't know, there are just a lot of people in my class that i have no use for (or just downright don't like), and as the years have gone by, the group of them that i do like have dwindled significantly. and i'm not going to waste my time and act like i do like them, so i hang out with those that i do like and just whatever. does that make me a snobby bitch? perchance. does that make me any different from any of the rest of them? not fucking likely! it's a beautiful system...most of the time...;)

i had a fantastic day...my first day at the f went really well. there's something about being in an actual newsroom and hearing nothing but the clicking of keyboard keys and mouse buttons, broken by the occasional ringing and a game being called in. and watching them put together the pages, in glorious COLOR (as opposed to our black and white)...i know that i'm going to run out and buy an issue tomorrow so i can check out the briefs and see what i did. sure, it's dry and boring (they're briefs, they're supposed to be) and my name won't be anywhere in the paper, but just knowing that i did something that so many people are going to see is a cool rush.

9.08.2001

alco-fuckin-hol...
ajklfjd;ajfieaiej;aejiaejo.
fun nite.

9.07.2001

i'm more stressed than i realized. starting, in some respects, to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but i am truly, incredibly stressed. all day (once i woke up--missed kirk's class because my body refused to function) i have had my mind racing with what i need to do, when i need to do it, how i need to do it, who i need to talk to...and my body feels slight off-kilter because of it...i don't feel completely normal. too jittery. i tried the good ol' "keep your hand as steady as possible" trick and i failed. dismally. i'm never exceptionally good at it, but today, it's really bad. my fingertips are fluttering about, my wrist is moving, and my mind is straining, trying to get the damn things to stay still for even a second.

hopefully improv will help. but i don't know if i'm even going to have time for it once things really get going.

i just need to breathe and keep myself organized and i'll be fine. and lay off caffeine. ;)
i'm sitting here with greek tragedy beckoning (not like i want it to, but i have to read it for tomorrow), and i'm looking for a reason to procrastinate. so i look to my buddy list to see who i can IM to say hello, and i notice a friend from high school online. i start to type, but then realize i have no idea of what to say. do i say hi, just wanted to drop a line to see how you're doing? and thus open myself up to the akwardness of "well, we haven't really spoken spoken in ages now, we've grown apart" and me feeling stupid. my life has gone beyond that little box of marble in which i spent six years--but at the same point, why the hell not drop an IM? not like i'm ever going to see him, right?
but then again, how well did i even know him in high school? how well did he know me? and what does that connection mean now that we're both on different paths in different areas?
so do i or don't i? and why does this feel like such a big decision when it's random and stupid?

and then he puts up an away message with an angry face, thus making it clear that it's a mute point anyway. c'est la vie...

9.06.2001

you go through college waiting to be a senior because all the hard work pays off and, while you have the impending doom of graduation and eviction from campus forever, it's supposed to be somewhat less stressful and a ton of fun, right?

whoever first said that was the case was A) on serious, serious drugs or B) was just saying that to fuck with your mind.

DON'T BECOME A SENIOR!!!!

i'm exhausted. i still have two stories to write about for class tomorrow, and i've read them, but my mind will not function. i have written seventy million people (so it seems) about various defender things, i have to call the blasted printer tomorrow, i have to talk to paul, i have to get my shit together for kirk for friday, i have to submit add/drop slip (whoops, day late, they can deal), i have to email the editing staff (and thus find out if i need to write a story this week), and i have to try keeping my sanity.

but i know i'm not alone. best of luck to the my fellow seniors in the quest to maintain one's sanity...

but now, i can't function. i need my bed. it's calling, and i cannot fight it any longer.
today has been a Truly Random Day.

more email from jesse (yay!), but also email from dear ol' laundry, live and in charge in chi-town. some of the random things in life make me pleasantly surprised.

got the job at the f. start saturday.

i've been doing a ridiculous amount of reading for my creative non-fiction writing. i need to spread this out a bit better next time. the shock of the night was that i actually LIKED a hemingway essay. i normally LOATE his work. but i guess i channeled his spirit (the fact that i mixed a screwdriver didn't hurt either).

but i'm exhausted and NEED TO GO TO SLEEP.

9.05.2001

i could have predicted this last night.

i woke up late, ran around like a madwoman, parked right in the mccarthy "no parking" zone, ran to st. ed's, raced up the stairs, and was late for sue's media I class. so now i have to wait until the end of class, walk into class, and talk to these writers who really only want to get the hell out of class.

shit shit shit shit shit!
i will continue to listen to his music. i will see a show if he makes it to my area. i'll even go as far as to say i'll venture to boston or northampton for a show if my schedule clearly allows it.

but i will NOT feel bad for missing him over LEAP weekend. i will NOT worry about working my schedule around so i can see him perform. and i will NOT defend him against allegations of diva-ness when my friends poke fun.

nonetheless, tonight was funny as hell. embarrassing as hell, but funny as well. LMAO.
new words i've discovered thanks to london slang (and in case you can't tell, words i want to use from now on!)
"(Sir) Anthony Blunt - Rhyming Slang for 'cunt'.
arseholed - very drunk
arse-over-tit /-elbow - to fall over in a dramatic fashion
banjaxed - meaning drunk or stoned. eg "I feel really banjaxed".
beef bayonet - a playful name for penis."

more to come, i promise you...
and the quote of the night comes from drew with, "maury povich is the luckiest man on earth!" this was in regards to a discussion of women newscasters and their worthiness to masturbate to (to? is that the right choice of words? i think not, but i'm tired and don't feel like dealing). i KNEW there was a reason i was interested in print journalism...could i possibly stare into a camera now and wonder what's going on on the other end?

the random discussions that are just another part of life here at st. michael's...LMAO.

9.04.2001

first rehearsal tonight--a read-through at our house. i'm exceptionally excited about it. i'm not going to lie about it, there's something about something as simple as a read-through that made me all giddy--for the first time, i'm actually supposed to be doing some of the reading. kirk is giving us all responsibilities--extra information to check up on and bring to the production process. he's highly recommending that we all read chaos, which i hope to do over the course of the play (as soon as i get my schedule somewhat settled). and my task as chloe is to bring a great understanding of british pop culture to the mix--as if that's not a dream assignment...

i need to write up story ideas tonight for defender (and hold my third meeting with writing for media students tomorrow--8:15 a.m. yeah, need i say more? didn't think so), and read aganemnon (i know the spelling on that is way off--just fucking greek tragedy). i think i'll fall asleep to notting hill tonight. even if kirk doesn't think we're going to use the accents (which, much as i wish we could, i view as a wise decision), i need to surround myself with everything british...more david gray! more hugh grant! more coldplay!!! travis too!

jesse is again in my good graces...email makes me exceptionally happy.
i'm sitting at work, watching the rain falling (all the more interesting because the sky is shining past mccarthy) when rick pops out of his office.

"guess who i just talked to," says he.

"i have no idea," says i.

"jesse," says he. it was about a job recommendation or something.

i've missed him immensely already--i'm trying to get in touch with him...damn "big brother" had better get in touch with me back...
i finally listened to the mp3s of mike olcott i downloaded awhile ago.

very impressive. check him out.

9.03.2001

michelle and i both got parts in "arcadia"!!! i'm chloe, and she is jellaby.

revel! revelrevel!

and i've got people interested in the ad manager job and one of the sports boys might just be photo editor after all.

WHOO HOOO!!!!!
bethanie gets the gold star for the day for this picture i just stumbled across.

i'm doing anything possible to ignore this meditation for kirk. in case you couldn't tell.

9.02.2001

there's something about opening up a text book for the first time of the semester that takes the novelty of being back at school away immediately. back to the wonderful world of the ancient greeks...

AURGH!!!!
it is so frightening to realize that it has been ten years since nirvana released nevermind.
i spent five hours in a lab today with paul working on programming quark to work more efficiently for the defender staff. we've got it now to a point in which just about any feature the staff could think of for layout--headlines, bylines, text, information boxes, you name it--are customized and available at a simple keystroke. in addition, things like byline, staff writer, and text are all done at once--type in the byline, hit enter, the staff writer font comes up, ready for typing, hit enter again, goes right into text. it's beautiful. and it's remarkably easy--just a matter of sitting down and figuring it out. paul told me that every member of this defender staff and every member of the staff in years to come owes me a beer. :) it made me feel somewhat better about being exec--i've been ridiculously nervous, worried that a potentially stellar staff could run amuck because i'm not a good, fearless leader. now i can hold my head a little higher.

my brother is officially a college student--having moved everything onto the franklin pierce campus today...he was adorable and called me, leaving a voicemail so i know he's doing well and will be fine. :) it disturbs me that my younger brother is in college--it makes me feel old...

i've received a few compliments on my audition last night, which i think was sweet of people to say. while i doubt i'll see my name posted monday, it makes me happy that people thought i didn't suck.

one of the worst feelings in the world is that of opening your mouth and not being able to stop what comes out of it. and then seeing the surprised look on the face of the other person and realizing that whatever justification you had for thinking those word was pure bullshit.

in other news...i'm noticing that some people are finding this via searches for tablature--lately the trend is howie day tablature. that makes me happy...and while i don't have it here (obviously), in case any of you come back, i can say that you should check out hdaee.net, one of the most comprehensive howie fan sites out there. it's where i look up my tabs, tons for howie's original work and covers, as well as a wonderfully designed site with concert info. and if that doesn't tickle your fancy, check out the howie day trading board--there is a special section for musicans with questions about learning howie's music.

that was my good deed for the day, so now i sleep.

9.01.2001

i'm looking forward to seeing "serendipity," the upcoming john cusack/kate beckinsdale movie. i adore cusack, beckinsdale's pretty good, and while the plot idea is farfetched, i like the concept. i also felt a warm spot in my heart because "babylon" is the song associated with all of the trailers (although i almost miss the days when not too many people knew about good ol' dg--i don't want him to be overplayed and thus fade away into nothingness...), and i found out that, among other songs, "love song for no one," by dear old john, is also supposed to be on the soundtrack...
so...

callbacks were this evening. i was running around all day like a chicken with my head cut off, so for whatever reason, i wasn't particularly nervous during auditions. i'm sure i'm not going to get a part--people there were really good, but i tried my best dammit, and i'm proud of me for doing that. so whatever. i know i'm not an actress anyway.

other than that, i was supposed to go to franklin pierce tomorrow to help tom move in, but i can't due to defender. aurgh...