Day 167
One of the main reasons I live in this friggin rez hall dump is because twice a day (most days) food is made for me. Don't get me wrong, I am not so much of a diva that I cannot cook for myself. Who can't unwrap string cheese and open a package of salami or call a Dominos? I am just lazy. I am indeed so lazy that there are days when I don't even wake up for breakfast. This would not be a problem if if were once and awhile but it's usually twice a week. And then there are nights when I refuse to go to supper, these nights are called: Formal Dinners.
Formal dinners, from what I understand, are an occasion where, instead of just having dinner and getting on with your life, you must wear a shiny dress and eat foods you don't know the names of and have to listen to speakers. Maybe it's the dressing up part but this reminds me of some sort of prom where you don't get to dance or lose your virginity afterward. But, at least I got asked to Formal dinner, not so with the prom. In both cases though, I would've had to say no on principle. I don't want to be in anyway connected with something so exclusive and pretentious. Well, maybe I'd still do the sex afterward part and pretend to lose my virginity but that is all the most I want to be involved.
Today, during class, I spent the entire two hours looking out the window as a clawed piece of construction machinery that looked like a giant dinosaur mouth took chomping bites out of a building across the street. The attacking dinosaur made it really hard to pay attention. The only two things that took my attention back into the class were the following:
1. When we discussed a rhetoric piece on Octomom. She ranks high on my list of news coverage I was addicted to she almost even reaches the polygamist sect break up in my interest level (there is nothing more interesting than polygamist sects getting raided). There are two reasons why Octomom is so intriguing to me: 1. she has ultra strange lips and 2. I always zone her out and imagine where all of her kids are when she is in front of the camera and what they will be like when they all turn 3.
2. I came back into the conversation of the class when the instructor looked over at me and said, "Do you have something to say?" I didn't have something to say. So, I paid attention for the next 5 minutes until I looked back out at the dinosaur attack.
Before class this morning I read my horoscope and it said something about how awesome and productive I was going to be today. So, I started to rewrite a story of mine and thus, spent the entire morning trying to make a pedophile and a Jesus Freak more likeable and at the same time more absurd. Characters are funny creatures, almost as interesting as mechanical, building-munching robot dinosaurs. So, I spent the day thinking: He wants to have sex with a pregnant 16 year old girl, but he wants to raise her baby. Or, she is really, really into Jesus but she wants to have hot sex with a man half her age. Man, being a writer is a silly business. But, if anyone asks I am a freak wrangler or a hot dog salesperson.
Tonight I saw The Vagina Monologues for the first time. I must say it was an interesting show, I particularly enjoyed the angry vagina girl, the fact that they were selling chocolate vags on sticks out front, the different types of orgasmic moaning, and the chanting of the word "Cunt" but there are a few things I could've done without:
1. The saxophone solo.
2. The birth story. Not only did it combine elements of birth including detailed descriptions of what a vag looks like at every stage, it had horrid metaphors like, "It opens up like a clam" or some such shit. Actually, during this I saw a girl ahead of me write "I am so having a c section" in her phone and show it to her friend. Her friend looked confused. So, the girl then wrote, "Where they cut open your stomach." Alright, so this was funny (who doesn't know what a c section is)and can stay just based on audience reaction.
3. The musical numbers. The first one was two girls singing some sort of opera, which according to my friend is an overused piece (I had never heard it before). Anyway, opera reminds me of my dad. Now, he has never seen an opera in his life, but I imagine him having the same reaction I had tonight which was, "God, I hate that. I can't even understand the words to it. If they have to sing can't they sing some song in a language I know so I don't feel like an idiot?" The other musical number was a song at the end of the show where all the cast members held hands on stage and sang about standing together, which would've been fine--if we were at a musical. Not only that, but it felt as if they just snuck it in there. They were thinking, 'Hey, how can we wrap this up in an unexpected way? Well, they think they are here for monologues so lets throw in a song.' Where they should've ended it with a meaningful line or two and then pulled a cord that opens a trapdoor above the audience and it would rain down confetti and dildos.
Tip of the Day: Don't even try to win a stare down with a raccoon, the longer you stare at them and think about getting into their space the more you will feel like a loser when you retreat.
-Canadian Castaway
No comments:
Post a Comment