This isn’t fiction. This is real.

-

This morning I slept in until 10:30, all the while the budgie was divebombing me while I was in bed, negating any sleep I was getting after Carly left at 9:00ish?

Now he’s all over my right hand, fascinated by mouse clicks and the noises coming from my computer and constantly trying to fuck my hand.

Like all the time.

-

I have to start working on my naropa application today if I want to make the deadline.

Blog-fiction!

–

The youthful strut is gone from his voice. His fake okie-drawl, long dissolved. The memories of broken bones, cracked ribs, the ashphault and the screech of tires. 

The former confidence he had, the fear he never had surrounded by an entourage of flashbulbs, now has dissolved. His former fresh face gone, now grizzled with stubble.

A man shouts: “All along the watchtower!”

The gallop begins, and it’s a decade old. The sunglasses catch a light and reflect into the crowd. It ain’t no use to sit and wonder why, babe. If you don’t know by now.

–

Oh, it’s 2009. Look at that!

New Years Eve was fun. I ended my shift at work by pumping Girl Talk while the doors were locked and I was counting the cash. I woke up the next morning without a hangover despite my rapid consumption of Whiskey Sours and Vodka Tonics. I wasn’t even that drunk, truth be told.

The first was my first day off in a while, and I spent most of it lounging in bed with Carly, Tracy and Tamara. Uh, it’s less scandalous than you might think. Later that night, I met up with other friends and had drinks.

Today I worked early, got off early, went to Chapters, picked up a copy of Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon and hope to start reading that after I finish my ever-growing list of books to read. White Noise is still my current book, and I’m probably going to follow it with The White Album by Joan Didion, just for a change of pace. I still have to read When You Are Engulfed In Flames by David Sedaris, too, so… 

…not to mention Ulysses, Lolita, and all the other books I didn’t finish last summer. Wah.

I have a few days off coming up, and I hope to get my application package to Naropa done in time to send it in. But that might just be wishful thinking. I might have to wait until next year to apply. But I need to save up to pay for it anyway, so that’s probably not the end of the world.

White Noise is getting good.

Today I have a lot of errands to run before 7. So… I better get to it, dangit.

Allons-y!

A while ago I made some complaints about Wordpress’ architecture and how it kind of annoys the crap out of me sometimes.

Typically, I avoid updating from like 2.5.6 to 2.5.9 or what-have-you, but I decided to cave into the nag-bar saying “UPGRADE TO 2.7″, and holy crap I’m glad I did. The interface is greatly improved, and I can literally bookmark a page that lets me post without having to deal with the login and stuff like that.

In keeping with the theme from last summer, I’m going to keep track of what I’m reading/watching/whatever. So here’s the first new activity there, and (new!) a brief blurb about each.

Currently Reading: Don DeLillo’s White Noise.

I really enjoyed DeLillo’s Libra, and I dig his writing style. I originally bought this book for Esther’s 1st year class, and never got around to reading all of it. I’m about a quarter of the way in, and it’s really enjoyable.

Currently Listening to: A lot of Morrissey and The Smiths

The Last of the Famous International Playboys. Need I say more? The man’s voice is like velvet. We are the pretty petty thieves.

Last Record Bought: Kings of Leon’s “Only By The Night”

I bought this today, actually. The record is very very enjoyable. The Kings of Leon used to be the dirtiest men alive, but now they’ve shaved and cut their hair.

Maybe I’ll be good and update again tomorrow.

AT APPROXIMATELY 1:25 AM THIS MORNING, HOSTILITIES BETWEEN MATT AND ACADEMIA HAVE CEASED. I REPEAT, AS OF 1:25 AM THIS MORNING, MATT OFFICIALLY COMPLETED HIS WORK LOAD PERTAINING TO THE END OF HIS UNDERGRADUATE DEGREE.

VICTORY.

VICTORY.

Hey, you know what I didn’t get this year? The flu shot.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me, either.

Some facts:

I’ve had a cold with a lot of coughing involved with it for about a week. Like the really gross chain coughing thing.

Wednesday night, I was feeling fine, albeit more than a little hungry, when I came home from work. It was my building’s christmas party in the lobby, and because the food was so great last year, I ate the food that was there, including some home made sushi, which was out on the table for a couple hours, but tasted fine, and usually that stuff is vegetarian anyway. Right? So I ate that.

So after that, Steve picks me up and we head to Bassline and we had a few drinks. Now I want to point out that I had a vodka tonic and two an a half points when I threw up for no particular reason, other than the fact I was coughing. The bar staff were great about it, but I wasn’t drunk-throwing-up. So I thought that was weird.

So we leave shortly after I clean myself up, and Steve suggested ESD. I said “Well no. I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”

So I’m sick as a dog all night. Good call on no ESD. So I call my parents because I don’t have anything other than cold daytime cold medicine at my apartment, and I was barely able to move, slash I can’t prepare myself meals, or get myself the things I need, and Carly was out at her parents place. Also, I’m a bit paranoid, and I’d convinced myself I was going to dehydrate to death if I didn’t have anyone checking up on me. So my dad braves traffic and picks me up, I get to their place and fall immediately back into bed, rising only to vomit for the entire day.

Today is a lot better. I’m less delirious, and I can actually keep liquids down, mostly. Work is ok with me taking time off, which is good because I have to make time to write my take home exam still, which I brought with me to work on as soon as I can.

In summary, I’m very sick. Blargh.

–M

So all my papers are cleared out, I wrote my first of two real exams today, and that take home is still on my to-do list.

But I got an A+ in Ivan’s workshop.

Just so we’re clear: That class was a real grinder. Like, at the end of term, I had to submit (if you recall) 12000ish words of original fiction written throughout the term. And I had to keep a journal. And I had to participate like a motherfucker, and I had to be there every week.

That, and Ivan’s a real writer, so the A+ says something there, too. Awesome. Totally awesome.

For those of you who haven’t seen me lately, I’ve decided not to pursue an MA in English Literature, and instead will be focusing all of my efforts on writing, either in a degree program like an MFA or MA Creative Writing, or professionally. Like, for a living. Like: 

That, only with: Fight the good fight by writing volumes of work to fill shelves of people who buy my work.

So once I get through my Lit Theory exam on monday and put the nail in the coffin of that History Take Home, I guess… well… it’s gonna be time to grow up a little.

So…

I guess…

That’s it for now.

10 Page Theory Paper, I pronounce you done.

10-12 page culture and text essay? You’re next. You’re also last.

Next saturday: Exam.

Following monday: Exam.

Due a week from then: Take home Exam.

…

Okay. Let’s go.

Andrea, here’s one for you.

Last night I dreamed very very vividly that: I fucked a friend of mine and got her pregnant. She said she was going to get an abortion, and I volunteered to go with her. Only she didn’t call me back in time, but I wrote a thirty page story (single spaced, too) that doubled as an apology. After printing the story, Carly and I started making dinner. She called me back to said that the deed was done, and I kept asking ‘how are you? Why didn’t you call me before you went? Are you sure you’re OK?’ And she kept saying “Well, it’s too late now. Yeah, I’ll be okay.” “Are you ok now?” “Well no, and I don’t think I ever want to have sex again.” “But why didn’t you call me? I would’ve gone with you.” “No, you wouldn’t have. That’s what everyone thinks they’re supposed to say but I went with _______ instead. She held my fucking hand.” “I would’ve done that.” “No you wouldn’t. Have you told Carly?” Both of us were in tears on either end of the phone, but Carly was totally oblivious in the other room, and I felt so much guilt that, in the dream, I rationalized that I should kill myself. 

Later, I was at an overcrowded shitty open mic Steve was hosting. It was Ryan’s birthday (which is tonight) and I was buying him and Ross shots, and trying to forget that my friend had just gotten an abortion I was directly responsible for. The crowd got pretty thick, and the band was about to start. But just as they did, the trio (vocals, drums, guitar) said what songs they were going to do, but the guitarist wanted to do vocals for the first song, prompting a huge fight where the singer walked off stage.

I woke up just before they started playing.

Needless to say, I’m a little shook up, as today’s Ryan’s birthday, and the dream seemed really real. I guess night terrors IS a side effect of caffeine.

The last time I dreamed anything about the friend of mine I got pregnant, I dreamed she had been killed in a horrible car wreck. It’s important that I mention that she’s not one of my close friends at all. AH.