I've been productive today; time for a break. specifically, time to write about the bizarre dream I had last night that first woke me up at 8:00 a.m. and continued until 2:00 p.m. or so (kept falling back asleep and it just kept going):

new year's eve. carra and I are at some dance club. I'm upset about not having anyone to kiss at midnight. a guy starts chatting with me: he's a little sketchy, but not bad. we make out. carra comes back and gushes over him being cute--while we're making out. I push her away--literally.

then we're at my parents' house somehow. he sleeps over. he says he's in love with me. the next day I drive him home (tazewell va). I realize that we didn't exchange numbers; I'm not worried, as we both know where the other lives. go back home where mom is making breakfast.

flash forward two days. find out that he's been in an accident and is dead. I'm in shock. his family contacts me; says that he was actually murdered and the accident was faked. I go to his house, which looks to have been burglarized. everyone suspects a conspiracy. then the funeral. for some reason my brother is there and is drunk. I can't bring myself to look in the coffin. his uncle approaches me and gives me a key. tells me that he (the dead guy) kept files on the computers at a certain business and that I should see them.

then: ali, myself, and some others are at the movies (no longer in bluefield). we slip away and take an elevator upstairs in the attached skyscraper. we stop outside the office that the uncle mentioned. the key unlocks the door. there are people working. we ask a woman if she'll show us the files. she agrees, but then realizes that they are confidential. we can see over her shoulder that they involve government secrets. we realize that we should have snuck into the office later, and that we are in danger. we get up to leave and are chased through the office.

we escape and get into the elevator. on our way down we realize that it has been sabotaged; the cable breaks. we pry open the doors and escape into a restaurant just as the emergency brake gives and the car plummets. then...well, we eat dinner.

flash forward a week or so. there has been an expose on the files; all the guilty parties have been arrested. I find out that the guy was a teacher at my elementary school. I go to clean out his office; all my old teachers are there. they think I'm going to replace him. I think, "maybe I should. I'd love teaching." I walk back out to my car (my volvo, for some reason) with the box of his things. I get in...and there he is. I realize that his death was staged, it's now safe for him to reappear, and we embrace.

talk about an epic.

found the car key! but...
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murder weapons:
most romantic: hand-held crossbow
most clever: icicle
most classy: piano wire
(choices, choices...)

"some people are better off dead."
--bruno anthony, "strangers on a train"
(agreed)

fact: in states that utilize the death penalty, first-time murderers convicted for a "crime of passion" are very rarely executed.
(that's comforting)
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I could really use an outlet for my frustration...

a quote:

"it's amazing what a tranquilizer and some peach sorbet will do for your outlook on life."
--me, thought approximately 38 seconds ago

almost time for the QFS meeting. then back here to clean and shape things up.

I'm in such an "I hate myself" mood today. I'm really frustrated; I can't find my car key. it became detached from my key ring and now it's gone. I've exhausted pretty much every possibility in looking for it, and I don't know what else to do. my room is such a shithole, though, it's probably in here somewhere.

I'm just so tired of my inability to organize and keep things in order. well, maybe it's not so much inability as unwillingness. maybe I was naive, but I really thought that once I started taking adderall some of this shit would stop. guess not.

to top it all off, I have one of the worst headaches ever. I'm afraid that it's developing into a migrane. I'm just going to lie down for a while. sigh.

warning: extreme randomness ahead.

just got back from carra and ashley's. had some southern comfort and other things. we tried to get rapunzel to call paul, but to no avail. alas.

dream boy sighting: the pines. my reaction: "okay, calm down. pretend not to notice. talk to everyone. give hugs. act popular. be popular. then--"run away! run away!"

fuck, I need to let this go.

movies in chapel hill with ali tonight. "all the real girls." GREAT movie. totally me-core. but it made me feel lonely.

also: bonfire deep in the woods. everyone got naked. not me, though. but it was nice.

all the birds are on crack. but I guess they're springing forward, as we should. I need to go to bed, but the entire versace spring line is on my sheets. after I clear it off I'm crashing. perry blackwell, forgive me!

my bagel awaits. hooray for smoke flavoring.

it's been a nice night. at first I was disappointed at the marked lack of partying going on, but ended up having a pleasant evening drinking SoCo and chatting/laughing hysterically with josh and ali. I'm now quite warm and toasty and getting ready to hit the sheets.

dream boy sighting: standing on the curb next to wilco by friendly avenue with unknown girl. he was in danger of getting hit, he was so close to the road. segway into...

Pros and Cons of Hitting "Dream Boy" with Car

Cons:
1) Destruction of beauty
2) Personal guilt
3) Prison
4) Damage to my beloved car itself

Pros:
1) No one else can have him
2) Feeling of empowerment
3) Prison sex
4) Excuse to get new car
5) Excuse to get new obsession

dammit, the pros have it by one. should've done it. oh, well. too late now.

I love my parents. but sometimes they're so good to me that it makes me feel like shit. conversation with mom today:

MOM: if you and ali want to go to new york after graduation, that can be part of your graduation present.
ME: (sighs audibly) okay, whatever. I guess we probably just won't go, anyway.
MOM: well, let me tell you what you're getting. maybe that'll make a difference.
ME: what? about a thousand dollars, didn't you say?
MOM: three thousand.

clarification: my parents would be the most wonderful people in the world, outlandish gifts or not. but still. I don't deserve that and I know it. it makes me feel awful. but I guess I have no right to complain.

need to finalize a few preparations for the radio show tomorrow. all covers. should be lots of fun.

let's see what dreams my subconscious cooks up for me tonight. last night I dreamed that candice bergen went to my elementary school. strange.

yawn...stretch. I've been gabin my room for the last little bit, just luxuriating in the freedom of friday afternoon with my book and my gummi worms. s'bout time to get moving, though--way too much to get accomplished.

going to borders tonight for the introvert creative group's monthly exhibition of poetry and song. here's hoping that they'll crank out some interesting stuff.

wonder why people say "hit the showers" when it's actually the water from said shower hitting you? for my part, I'm going to go and get hit by the shower.

my group presented its collaborative play this morning; it was pretty well received. but how can you not love a swedish whore named chlamydia?

I won't say whom or in what course, but I got to enjoy class with the most stoned girl ever today. she was completely out of it, and everyone was giggling about her the whole time--except the prof, who seemed oblivious. I'm certainly not a prude about smoking up--not like I never have--but I personally think it's in kinda bad taste to smoke during the week unless you have absolutely nothing to do. it's like leedy's law of drinking: it's tacky between sunday and wednesday night, then it's all go. I love nicole.

some new links to blogs to the left, all good people. same routine--you think I suck too much to link to your precious journal, just let me know.

why the hell am I inside? it's gorgeous out there. I must find something to do that involves sun.

have read for the past few hours until my eyes are exhausted. a boy's own story by edmund white. I read it years ago and remembered how much I loved it, so I picked up a copy at b&n tonight. it's such an amazing novel. all I want to do right now is sit and write prose of my own, but my brain feels like a...it's as if I...I'm just too wrung out. see? dammit, can't even come up with a decent metaphor.

the hotel yorbans are kicking around the idea of hosting the year's final wqfs party in a couple of weekends. that would rule; all year we've talked about having parties and have been too sorry to get one together. it'd be nice to go out with a bang. I wonder what my social life will hold once I graduate. I don't want to be one of those alums who hangs out on campus every freakin weekend; I'd like to think that I can rustle up some other things to do. not that I'm a snob about it--you can bet I'll be tromping these same brick paths next year if I hear of something big cooking.

speaking of parties, josh is all about some kookiness this weekend, and I'm right there with him. a sizable contingency of us are up for a serendipity redux. although I'm promising myself that I'll stay relatively well behaved--I can't even walk across campus anymore without bumping into someone that I've at least made out with while smashed. seriously, that's not an exaggeration. I don't really want to come any closer to crossing that line between "sexual opportunist" and "damn dirty ho," and my left big toe is nudging it.

anyway, even damn dirty hoes need their sleep.

I've been all wacked out today. for some reason tuesdays always leave me exhausted and needing to sleep a lot on wednesdays. so 11 hours last night; I really wanted to get a lot accomplished today, but so much for that. my brain just can't get into gear. I've been headachy too, but I think that's mostly my crazy sinuses.

although I DO have to start getting it together. by friday I must:
clean room/do laundry
finish resume portfolio and ask for letters of recommendation
call about and view apartment w/ josh and carra
have all the info together for my mass media final
start planning ali's and my film festival
call ernest and reschedule...

I think that's it, but it's enough on top of the usual drudgery. I think instead of saying "hello" I'm going to start answering the phone dorothy parker style: "what fresh hell is this?"

charles and I went to ruth's chris steak house tonight courtesy of his mom's gift certificate. SO good. if you're a carnivore with money (it was $88 plus tip for us) I can't recommend it enough.

I've got to spend some time tonight punching up my one-act play. it's loosely based on the whole joey debacle, so it's got definite emotional potential, but so far it's honestly just boring.

the 'rents are coming down a week from sunday for dinner. that should be nice.

anyway, time for some more world domination plotting.

aunt kay warned me. "you don't know what allergies ARE until you move to north carolina!" yup. my eyes burn so much they feel like the world/inferno friendship society's cymbals (heh--I could not remember that band's name; took ages of searching for random keywords to figure it out). anyway, I'm about to close them for 8-9 hours, so it's all good.

speaking of music, good and bad news:
bad--flaming lips show was sold out. major bummer.
BEST NEWS EVER--found out that a certain group is playing in asheville on may first. so I got my ticket and am going to see...wilco. eat your fucking hearts out. I've wanted to see that rogue band of geniuses ever since the opening chords of "being there" first touched my eardrums. well, that's a slight exaggeration. but still. josh and ali are going as well, and we're all about to wet our pants already.

I'm starting to get concerned with my questionable creativity. my lack of any major successes in playwriting has led me to question my ability as a screenwriter. I mean, I want to go to film school primarily to direct, but I really really really want to write my own movies as well. my only good ideas are generated when I write what I know and live through my characters. but quite frankly, my life isn't always interesting enough to warrant juicy stories. I also think a big part of it is not seizing on ideas when they first enter my mind. that day at tate st. last week I just happened to have a notebook with me when I wanted to write all those character sketches of the other regulars--which are actually kinda cool. note to self: start carrying pen and paper. now where's some to write that down...

random question: wouldn't it be nice to be able to claim to have passionately kissed the one most physically attractive human being that you've ever seen and ever expect to?
random answer: yes.

I hope that constant reader has had a splendid john l. lewis day (you mountaineers know what I'm talkin about; otherwise just plug in "april fools' day" there). may your dreams be ethereal and your eyebrows indoor.

random philosopical bullshit:

I see nothing wrong with jealousy. under the right circumstances, I think it can even be healthy. if a person is jealous, there's no shame in admitting it. "that's a nice apple you've got there. wish I had one."

I do take issue with covetousness; it's a sad thing when someone is so selfish as to want to deny someone else happiness so that they can have it. "that's a nice apple you've got there. think I'll steal it and eat it when you're back's turned."

but the worst: when one becomes so vindictive as to wish unhappiness on another when they have nothing to gain themselves..."that's a nice apple you've got there. think I'll hide it and let it rot just so you won't have something I don't."
____________________________________________________________________

lately I find myself wanting a lot of what other people have. and if I can't have whatever the commodity in question is, I'm becoming less and less averse to watching said other people suffer. I guess it's just the old "misery loves company" theory, but that doesn't make me a better person.

(note: I'm not actually in a pissy mood this evening. just giggling at my inhumanity. think I'll chuckle my way into bed.)

aargh...need today to recover from last night. shana brought down some jello shots, and with some whiskey to boot I felt pretty funky. went upstairs and talked to folks, then over to 731 for the Tiger Bear Wolf et al. show. the apartments were as jumpin as I've ever seen them; I couldn't even guess how many people were milling around. hugged/talked to charles for a minute. went back to bryan with carra, ashley and crew for a few minutes. fell into bed late but woke up early. all in all, it was a great night of staggering and chit-chatting.

got to talk with my dream boy last night too. I was proud of myself--it was the first time I've even been able to say hi in quite some time. he makes me want to act like a spoiled kid in a toy store. I feel like throwing myself down on the floor, kicking and punching, and screaming "WANT THAT! WANT THAT!" repeatedly. fat lot of good it would do. damn breeder.

went to waffle house and the mall with ali today. ate way too much hashbrowns and looked at shoes I couldn't afford. at light years they have this "mullet shampoo" that comes in a car wax like bottle and smells like armorall. funny.

I need to clean, do work, study, and make about a million phone calls. eh, I think I'll go get some coffee instead.

whee! found my phone! it was in my car the whole time. I'm so stupid sometimes.

I'm sure the majority of campus will be in attendance at the blackalicious show tonight, but I'm just not really feelin it. think I'm just gonna hang here and wait for the planned apartments party to kick in. last chance for serendipity revelry, after all, and I'd like to partake of all possible delights.

anyway, let's get this show on the road...

tonight was a disappointment after last night. got mildly tipsy and went to bryan to ogle the half-unclad bumpin and grindin at the foam party--which, admittedly, was actually pretty hot. then deep into the woods to a drum circle around a bonfire...well, it was pretty small, more of a bonbon fire. got bored and came back here to eat leftover pizza. woo friday.

I hope that I wake up in a better humor than I am now. for some reason I just feel like getting my .22 out of my closet, standing on top of frank, and letting a few bullets fly. what? you don't think I have a .22? come over here. let me push these clothes out of the way...seriously, it's fuckin serendipity already, jeremy. perk up, for cryin in the bucket. you're probably just sexually frustrated. or just abnormally dismayed at the usual mediocrity.

before I delve into complete self-absorption, time for bed.

well, last night had some positive excitement. serendipity kicked off with a bang with a big gathering of drunk people in the meadows. when that got broken up everyone just migrated back to the apartments. I don't remember most of the night, which means it was probably pretty good. ashley and emily slept on our couches. lately our apartment has become a waystation for the tired, poor, huddled masses too hammered to make it back to bryan hall. suits me just fine.

bad news: I lost my cell phone. bryan and I walked all over campus calling it but to no avail. I'll just keep checking lost and found. I'm sure I had it on me when I left here last night. sigh.

I met a really cute guy at tate street yesterday. his name's jason and he's an indie rocker. he's supposed to come by here this weekend...I think he's straight, though. but it'd be fun to hang out; we had a nice time talking.

gabe's all set to leave town on sunday. we sure will miss him. he should be by later tonight, at least I hope so.

there's a party in bryan tonight that I want to make an appearance at, but first a nip of whiskey. nothing as intense at last night--but it's just so cold outside!

"nothing ever happens in blaine..."

I certainly hope this weekend brings a bit of positive excitement worth posting about. the past couple of days have been so awfully dull. the biggest thrill was going to see "catch me if you can" at the $2 theater last night--which, granted, was a fantastic flick, but I could hardly write a novel about the experience.

I hope to go look at the proposed apartment on friday with carra and josh. hopefully that'll give me some initiative to start some real job hunting.

incidentally: ali and I decree that all inanimate objects that hitherto have had no binding and formal appellation are now to be called "linda." just go with it.

I swear, sometimes I wonder if the both of us aren't schizophrenic. if so, it could well be contagious.

so I was putting together the aforementioned list of songs and I realized that, if arranged in a certain way, they could tell a story. so I burned a cd that, when listened to from start to finish, says a lot about me--especially my relationships with people, which is one of the ways that I define myself the most. and the "jeremy soundtrack" is...

1. Lou Reed, “Andy’s Chest”
2. Sloan, “The Good in Everyone”
3. Belle and Sebastian, “Expectations”
4. Bob Dylan, “Ballad of a Thin Man”
5. Violent Femmes, “Add it Up”
6. Liz Phair, “Baby Got Goin”
7. The Ramones, “Sheena is a Punk Rocker”
8. Blur, “Boys and Girls”
9. Rufus Wainwright, “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk”
10. Boyracer, “Tell Me Where My Hands Should Go”
11. Beulah, “If We Can Put a Man on the Moon, Surely I Can Win Your Heart”
12. The Buzzcocks, “Ever Fallen in Love?”
13. Superchunk, “Water Wings”
14. Aimee Mann, “High on Sunday 51”
15. Sleater-Kinney, “One More Hour”
16. Rilo Kiley, “The Good That Won’t Come Out”
17. Death Cab for Cutie, “Photobooth”
18. Bjork, “Army of Me”
19. Cake, “I Will Survive”
20. The Strokes, “Last Night”

if anyone wants to borrow it and get inside my brain a little, or just dig on some cool tunes, just let me know.

oscars are over! some real surprises tonight: almodovar taking screenplay, "the pianist" taking various and sundry things. all good stuff, though.

I had the most random mood swing earlier. got all weepy and self-indulgent and took off for burlington on my usual insanity drive. listened to death cab for cutie's "photobooth" on repeat for just over an hour. felt better after that somehow. I feel purged. but aren't antidepressants supposed to prevent this kind of thing...?

I've been trying to think of 20 songs that someone could listen to if they wanted a better understanding of what goes on in my head. when I think of em I'll post em.

time for post-award munchies with the crew.

so last night was a classic guilford saturday--party in 731. I got very toasty, and carra got so toasty that she couldn't quite make it home, so we snuggled here last night. got up this morning and went to lunch/shopping with kristi; I won't name names, but we discovered that we've both made out with the same guy fairly recently. funny. she's turned into a total horndog of late, and we've made a pact to prowl campus hardcore next weekend. it's serendipity, after all, guilford's certified biggest debauchery weekend. we shall see.

went to see "the pianist" last night. it was amazing, very grittily realistic. it made me realize how lucky I am to have been born in relatively civilized america during relatively civilized times. I mean, in the great cosmic scheme of things, I could just as easily have lived and died as a Jew in a concentration camp in 1940...or be currently starving to death in modern day east africa...or on the flip side, been a pampered member of the british royal family. souls are funny things.

I was in kind of a bad mood today, but then carra and ashley suggested that we go to jake's for dinner dressed in the most outlandish clothes, makeup, and accessories possible. sarah stringfield, emily, julie, and ali all got in on it. everyone either looked like complete eurotrash or a complete prosititute, or both. we turned a lot of heads. it really perked me up.

do you ever get in moods where you just feel like saying, "okay, so what now?" that's why I'm so bizarro today. it's like sitting in the middle of a big, empty field and looking around and just kind of thinking, "well..." I think it must have something to do with being single again. I'm glad to be, but at the same time I already feel starved for male attention. I dunno. whatever.

my room is in a frightening state. I must clean a bit before the oscar telecast starts.