journal
12.04.01 lingo
anne sussman of lower manhattan invented the phrase ‘drives the van’. it replaces, let’s see... ‘cool’ or ‘nice’ or ‘someone i don’t hate’. ex: jane choe is nice and cool and i don’t hate her one bit. jane choe drives the van.
things i fear
- the ocean (being in it, floating on it, laying lifeless at the mucky bottom, etc.)
- bills
- bad poetry (for some reason bad prose seems less perilous)
-my bad poetry
-droplets of pee on the toilet seat
-stuck in the bathroom weighing out my options because there is no more toilet paper.
-spiders
-close talkers
-touchy guys
-unknowingly showing my panty line
-wet bread
-not knowing what i really want to do
-owen wilson’s nose
-fatness
-bad coffee
so jen and i both fear spiders and fatness. but that is not why we drive the van. our reasons are endless.
all the good movies come out at the end of the year. matt damon was on leno tonight promoting ocean’s eleven, which i am planning to watch even though i know damon’s teeth will annoy me to no end because they’re actually a row of chicklets and not real teeth. mostly looking forward to lord of the ring. and if you want to watch it with me then make your request(s) on my dry and barren forum, currently under disguise as please validate my existence.
full moon
it’s that time of the month. i’ve been getting it for years but each time it comes around i’m a bit taken back. sometimes i even gasp. also my body is changing. over the past year i’ve been experiencing painful cramps. the mood swings (aka pms) get perr-ritty ridiculous too. as if getting the period itself isn’t bad enough, eh? last week was dismal. i was just feeling all sorts of angry-weird-cranky-depressed. then one night the stress i’d been going to bed with made me cry. stress makes for a very bad bedfellow as it is always needy and desperate for attention. and sometimes, like a cruel lover it will make you cry. but there’s no making up with this lover because it says you’re never good enough.
12.06.01
been reading bridget jones and therfore interjecting "bloody" in every sentence that runs through my head. also thinking in british accent about what a bloody drag today has turned out to be. wondering when jude and shazzer equivalents will call me out for a drink at the big easy.
been thinking about how i secretly hate sociology and might as well have majored in something like english or japanese or japanese and german (dangerous combination though), because a) i am good with languages and they don't involve numbers at any level b) liberal arts majors bear no distinction in the job market.
just saw roommate who was waiting for a computer to print something. kindly offered to print it out for her under my account as i am occupying a computer and not doing anything urgent. she however failed to tell me that she is printing forty some pages of thesis notes. consequently i am over my limit of eighty pages per semester and from now on will be charged for every page i print.
seriously thinking about staying here until my lease ends in august. also thinking about getting a job at the university like yudan, brilliant-number-calculating-going-to-gradschool-for-statistics-genius-chinese-person. what jobs might they offer to not-so-brilliant-soc-hater-with-little-experience-and-great-math-block-korean-person? i could be a student advisor but i believe that's actually work study 5.50/hr. perhaps i can be like noel from felicity and become a guidance counselor. can't imagine this job seeking extensive qualifications as i have spoken to many advisors, all being either twits who don't know or twits who don't care. i can't decide what would be more mentally challenging for me: remain in state college, remain lonely, and whither away as i forget the joy of laughter. or... back to jersey, find a job, live with friends or... back to jersey, not find a job, live with parents, hang out with jen, become alcoholic, and get sucked into the vicious cycle of: do something wrong-> get lectured by mom -> feel suffocated -> receive allowance from parents-> feel loved -> feel massive pangs of guilt -> rationalize by not going out on weekends ->t.v. (we have aquired both a flat screen t.v. and digital cable in the past few months for reasons unknown as my parents watch only korean dramas) -> eat constantly -> fatness -> self-loathing -> do something wrong.
oh ladies...
did go out for drinks with shazzer and jude types after all. well deserved as bloody classes are finally over. vi, nance, and i had originally planned to go to mad mex, a chilis-ish restaurant, but found the place too empty. we needed people and noise and dance music as are young and sexy and energetic. so walked further onto cafe 210, which was so crowded that we couldn’t find a vacant table. we did have the option of drinking al fresco, but who sits outside in december? that’s like wearing velvet in the summer, isn’t it? walked back down college ave and settled on the big easy.
big easy was also quite empty but were too tired to continue with search as all were in knee high boots or similar. had two drinks each, changed complexion, discussed current love life or lack of one and protested vehemently against involving oneself ever again with emotional f*ckwits. nancy and vi both on second rounds of midori sour and mellonball respectively, turned to me and decided that they needed to work on me as i am the only singleton among us. defended myself by counting on my fingers, the joys and exclusive advantages of single life for vibrant 23 yr olds. also mentioned my agreement to a blind date thatjoe is going to set up. they do not know joe so are unaware of what risky business this actually is. not wanting to say joe is not perceptive matchmaker type person, but joe is not perceptive matchmaker type person. joe drives the van to all the wrong places, know what i mean? but i’ve never been on one so wouldn’t mind giving it a go. vi wants me to blind date the cousin of her fiancé and has been taunting me for weeks. have no recollection of giving her consent, however "linda, it’s all been arranged."
she also informed me that i am to be the maid of honor at her wedding next year, also responsible for organizing posh bridal shower. did not know exactly what to do with said information, so “toast to vi’s wedding!” clink clink!
finished our drinks and headed for the bathroom, strutting like charlie’s angels with important, dangerous mission across the very vacant bar area. no one saw us save the gay bartender who inwardly applauded our fresh-faced attitude and sass-factor. peed, blotted our faces with oil removing paper and were ready to hit the g-man when vi claimed she was going to vomit. this is the same girl who just minutes prior had said she was feeling only a slight buzz and looked condescendingly at us, as we were clearly liquored up. waited while she crouched next to toilet, head in hands. i told her to keep it down till we got back home, barely one block from bar. however, as soon as we were outside, vi announced health perfectly back to normal. nance and i stared, utterly confused but were given no further explanation. she really did look revived again so on we went to g-man.
upon entering g-man, heard country music from live band in the back. bad. saw only guys. not bad. a table of guys cheered when we walked in because we were the only girls there. well then.
talked about someone’s funeral. "i heard it was really sad" said nancy in a grave voice. right. talk talk talk, yadda yadda then made three different toasts "to us", "to vi’s wedding", and "to no more f*ckwits" as we had reached the point of been-drinking-repetition.
eventually conversation meandered onto ‘sex’ of all things: good or boring? real or faking? weighty or trivial when deciding to marry? clink clink! more cheers.
all were getting hungry so i devised a brilliant plan to call champs for wings so that it would be delivered by the time we got home. on the way back found that we could not wait, so stopped by college pizza. perfect timing as deliveryman got to apt lobby as soon as we arrived. devoured wings and also ate carrot sticks to justify such acts of willing fatness. nancy’s question: what part of your body makes you feel most sexy? couldn’t really think of one. eventually settled on shoulders. i think shoulders can be sexy. shoulders never really get fat do they?
turned out to be fun night out . now i have a headache and for some reason am sweating. planning to sleep till late afternoon and not feel wrong about it.
12.08.01
snowing lots. woke up around noon and decided that i couldn't really go all the way to the library in this weather. so now i'm trying to study at home. so far not very productive. have not made past one chapter of simmel. the snow made me want to listen to christmas music and drink hot coco and get sentimental in my pajamas however left all christmas music at home (except one cd that is just too hymnal-1940's-bing crosby-and chorus to bear). so sat around in pajamas, holding paperback of simmel shwimmel in one hand, watching last episode of the real world: return to nyc (not nearly as entertaining as the first real world in nyc), and trying to decide whether or not to give in and do the pile of dishes in the sink as it seemed that i was the only one really irritated by bio-hazard kitchen and putrid, deadly fumes seeping from the sink. also did i mention that last week i spent nearly three hours cleaning the apartment. words of gratitude from roommates did not include "thankyou" or "sorry i couldn't help out" but "oh, it's so clean. you know it seems clean because it was only so messy before." also tonight is the aacf banquet- was never really into the aacf banquet. i just ought to stay home and hold simmel to my head because at some point i might begin to read it.
miss my friends. wish they could be here so we could wrap scarves around our necks and go to saint's cafe for double lattes.
12.09.01 crunch time
by weds i will have written two final papers and taken two final exams. i've begun neither paper writing or for exam studying. i'll be home thursday but i'm working at "n" on friday and probably everyday after that for the rest of my life! no, probably for one pay period. i don't think sales will be very good this year but i guess it's better than sitting around at home.
i get these emails from poetry.com and winners supposedly win up to $10,000 for a poem. how is that possible? i wish i could win that.
remember brain gordon whose wallet i found in the street one day? he called me two months after and left a message on my v.m. "i couldn't check my email because my computer was broken but it's like so awesome that you contacted me and like if you still have it, and i hope you still have it because there's like some stuff in there that i want and you're such an honest person i just can't believe it. i should, like, treat you to dinner or something because not many people would have done what you did, so thanks. please call me if you still have my wallet." right, so it was a tattered wallet with $15 in it and not a briefcase full of cash.
wallet was still in my posession, so i called him back and we planned to meet at the hub. he didn't look as good as he did in his fake texas driver's id. also he was my height and that's not really right for a guy now is it? was in a rush so handed the wallet to rightful owner and left for class. i could hear him singing his mantra, "you're a good person, so honest, thanks so much..." as i turned to walk away. i see him around campus sometimes, say hi and i wonder if he sees me and thinks, "there's linda, perfect saint-style person."
12.11.01 bullocks to pollock
in the pollock computer lab as we speak. must do something about my hair. ever since i got it colored at that salon in flushing, it's been splitting and breaking at the ends. this is more irritating than you might think. it ranks only second to rogue ingrown hairs in its ability to launch obsessive compulsive must-get-rid-of-all-of-them behavior. also i am not liking the stringy blond highlights as the color has since worn off.
in other news: it is still finals week. ahh, will it never end? my term paper is late because i ran to the office at 5:30 on the dot and he had already left- like at 4:00. the main office where the mail boxes are was also closed. i then went back to his office and tried to slide it under the door but there seemed to be something blocking the door or maybe he has a really plush carpet. i managed to get half of it in but then it got stuck and i had to tug it out gently to avoid rippage of term paper. imagine him walking into the office tomorrow morning to find half of my intro paragraph on the floor. he's crazy and neurotic. it would look bad. might think it's a death notice: Weber demonstrates (DiSanti wants you to know) that while progress is ... (you got the job done but) ultimately disenchantment occurs (you leaked valuable information you snitch. you're goin in the east river.) blabla.
right, so i've got lots to do. that is why i spent two and a half hours watching a disturbing but relatively good movie with geoffrey rush and joaquin phoenix (oddly attractive face despite strangely shaped nose) in it. geoffrey rush plays yet another mental case, though not the harmless music-genius type like he did in shine (really excellent movie). this time he's the deranged spawn-of-the-devil-pervert-writer, le marquis de sade, father of 'sadism'. the acting is quite good, but the plot and the characters are very dark and disturbing. there's also a lot of stark naked rush (bad naked), pale and half naked kate winslet, and phoenix (plays an abbe) who manages to keep his robes on but looks so sexually frustrated you expect him to commit a crime of passion on winslet at any moment. the abbe however contains his desires of the flesh and winslet dies a virgin. the film left me feeling a bit agitated so i took a shower then ate some left over steak. this wasn't all that helpful.
the library is so crowded, by asian people especially. this is where all the fobs are. and outside in the front is where everyone smokes, fobs and non-fobs alike. most smokers are korean. i know some of the older fobs because their kids are in sunday school. i don't like pollock but i like how they serve free coffee after midnight. does anyone really study here? it's more like a smoking lounge/ coffee shop.
okay, i'm going to do work now. now.
okay but just read jane's journal so have to respond. sarah, save the drama for your mama. nancy said that to me once. i think you're one of those people who can't get away from the drama, whether you like it or not. i bet people who meet you for the first time just *sense* the orb of drama, the force-field of emotion-commotion. it's not a bad thing. we all need some drama. besides, maybe you'll have someone for the holidays. i on the other hand will not. and this is a sad thing? not necessarily... because the perks of having a boyfriend during the holidays is so that you can spend time together and exchange gifts and hold hands and be cute like olli and jen from love story ("love means never having to say you're sorry"). i have yet to spend quality time and recieve gifts of any sort on a national holiday involving a boyfriend. the problem is, i am a giver and they're always the takers. also, i'm always dating the impoverished college students. i'm like some beacon that shines bright proclaiming "broke and hungry guys are welcome". i will banter with you and treat you to dinner.
jane, :( i dont' know what to say.
lately i've been thinking about how i justify my life and the way i live while knowing what i know, simply from reading the papers every morning. there's such an imbalance of suffering and pain in this world. and that's where it kind of suspends. part of me feels i have to do *something*, but at the same time questioning the point of it all, as suffering and pain will always be part of the system. invariably i reach an "i don't know". does anyone really know? and there's the matter of how urgent things are. children die because they have nothing to eat. that is urgent but i'm not *really* feeling the urgency now am i? when i read jane's journal, i felt so selfish. i felt so selfish and privileged. and moved.
all new felicity 12.12.01
ah, it is only an hour away- the highlight of my week is today's all new felicity. am dying to know who saves her from the fire. my guess is noel although i really wish it would be someone else. noel is a nice guy but he has this ickyness about him, a sort of irritatingly needy presence. felicity is a good show because the characters are a little more realistic than say, dawson's creek. dawson's creek is unbelievably lame and the characters are unattractive white people with no personality. felicity is also mostly white people but they're better looking, there is a black girl, a gay spanish guy and they are full of personality.
if you had to choose someone to date from one of the shows, wouldn't you choose someone from felicity?
12.13.01 under the force of linda
was a long long day. more like two long long days without sleep. episode of felicity wasn't even good. after all that waiting too.
pak picked me up from king of prussia. ate pho or fuh or poh in chinatown. convinced him to drive me to the trenton station. muhaha.
jen's going to rutgers. muhaha. we'll eat noodle everyday because she hates chinese food with the heat of a thousand suns.
12.15.01 nordstrom codes
walked into work today and teri said, "oh look at your boots! you look so nice today." susan behind the counter added, "linda's definitely an f.r.m." i asked what f.r.m. was and they looked at me with exasperation as clearly i knew nothing. then susan said, "f.r.m. fashion rold model, f.r.m." like she was in a spelling bee.
i want to go out. :( but by the time i got home it was already after 11. jane and sare are now dancing queens at the iguana and i'm sitting home chatting online. jen is sleeping. i called her house and shirley (the mom) picked up. jen was supposed to buy a new dog for her parents today, so i just assumed that new dog was bought. also assumed that her parents knew about new dog.
lin: hey, so did you guys get a new dog today?
shirl: new dog? what's wrong with our old one?
lin: oh... haha, i don't know...
shirl: think the old one's too worn out now? time we get a new one?
lin: (i hope she thinks i'm making a weird joke) no, i'm just kidding. the old one is good.
shirl: (laughs, but sounds curious)
lin: (hope she's had a couple glasses of wine and will fall asleep and forget that this conversation ever took place) well, goodnight!
i think i might have ruined the oslislo's christmas surprise.
have not gone shopping for gifts yet. they're making me work so many days, i really don't have the time. sare called to tell me that she got me something that i would love for christmas. pressure. must also get her something she would love. stress! as i have no idea what that would be.
joe (self proclaimed expert on women and how to date them) is trying to get a new years eve party together at his friend's apt and insists that i join in. why do i get the feeling that it is going to be 7 people in their pre-thirties, sitting in a living room, holding a beer, nibbling on chips, watching dick clark's rockin eve and yawning every 4 seconds?
12.17.01 how to make it happen
"exceptional craftsmanship". "absolutely stunning". "eye-catching". "this is a forever bag."
this korean guy, around my age, came in to buy a bag for his mom. i picked out a few things but he wasn't liking any of them, the picky little twerp. make-it-happen words were flowing from my mouth and yet he fancied nothing i showed him. finally, a furla bag caught his eye and he bought it which means once again, i made it happen. the point of this story however, is not about my smooth operation on the sales floor but actually about how i thought the guy was cute. i see many many good looking guys at the mall but i'm not actually attracted to them. rats! i could have gotten his name from his credit card! then what would i have done? nothing! but still. he could have been someone other than 'random guy'. maybe his mom won't like the bag and he'll bring it back. but that will kind of annoy me. no, i think it's pretty clear that we were not meant to be.
12.19.01 patsy and edina wake up in chinatown...
this morning i woke up and found myself covered in cat hair, on a futon next to jen. my jean skirt had ridden up to my stomach, exposing the black and white vertical-striped tights i was wearing. soon noticed that i had somehow ripped a small hole by the knee. after musing on possible cause of said hole, i ploped back down on the futon as my head now weighed a thousand tons. ohhhh, twas the hangova.
12.23.01 id Lushes
i'm going to start by explaining the events that eventually led to waking up in jen's co-worker's apartment in chinatown last weds morning (see above entry).
jen had been raving about her co-workers since she started working, and last week i felt it was time for our two worlds (westfield girl- idsociety manhattanites) to merge.
i left work an hour early, although not without getting some disgruntled looks from the other ladies, and caught a train into the city. walked to the street where we were to meet, however did not spot jen anywhere. after a lot of walking up and down the dark and dingy w.23rd st in my knee high boots and skirt, i felt that someone could *easily* mistake me for a street hustler. even though my skirt was long. even though i had on a thick black coat and a pashmina shawl wrapped around my neck. but just in case, i made sure to look at my watch every five seconds and check my phone because i wanted people to know that i was indeed waiting to meet someone. yes, see here's my cell, person really ought to call, where could this horrible and unpunctual person be?
finally they emerged from a building one by one, and there was a brief introduction with firm handshakes and such. first was matt, adorable starry-eyed 19yr old with dirty blond hair, thin frame. next was william, mid thirties or so, well dressed. finally there was connie, the chinese-contortionist-dj-html-tagger that i had been so very curious about as she has become the object of jen's scorching desire. connie, appropriately nicknamed 'miss.thang' by her co-workers was dressed in black- furry black hat, black pants, black puffer jacket, lots of black eyeliner, and what appeared to be a slight variation of karen beck's space shoes (remember those sare?) with maybe six more inches of platform.
we all headed downtown in search of a bar/restaurant. the grueling search process required walking all over downtown manhattan, in and out of a much crowded bar, all the way to the east side to orchard st. where we slipped into a middle eastern restaurant decorated with christmas lights and large photos of sultry mid-eastern women in headscarves, wearing glossy red lipstick. my feet were a most unhappy pair after the major cross-town schlep, not to mention having worked all day on the sales floor. they were ready to blister. i was ready for a glass of wine. didn't feel like eating much, but ordered what i thought would be mushroom *soup* and not pulverized mushrooms in warm olive oil and garlic paste. it actually tasted good at first, but you can only have so many spoonfuls of mushrooms before you begin to wonder if you ever liked mushrooms at all. we had two rounds of drinks except jen who took the lead with a third maker's mark on the rocks.
much of the evening's conversation circled around their boss jon (closeted? fratboy), other coworkers, and matt's informing the group of office espionage techniques, from hidden cameras to spying in on im-conversations and emails. "make sure to wipe out your hard drive before you leave jen"
"that time you didn't close your im window..."
"the camera's probably under your desk connie" "so that's how they're getting the money to pay me!" matt imitating jon: "connie, you really have to stop with the pants. and your skirts are way too long." william made a few funny comments about jon. kind of wished he would go on a bit more because jen's told me so much about how funny he is.
miss.thang was to fly out to sanfran the next day, had not slept the night before, and what with all the packing and preparation for her trip, was wanting to go home. didn't really get to see her thanging glory and obnoxious attitude that she is so prized for, but matt later reminded me, in thang-defense, that the girl was too exhausted.
we parted our ways after hugs and cheek-kissing, jen and i walking off toward the westside in a been-drinking-armlink. it was less than five minutes before jen decided that another drink was necessary. she called matt who we eventually caught up with back on orchard st, and the three of us headed toward a bar called latin cafe or similar.
it was a bustling little cafe-type bar with colorful tables, candles, latin music, dancing latin couples. it just so happened that matt and jen had met our waitress and her friends (one of them who was named 'fabulous') at a different bar the week before. waitress exploded in a fit of excitement after recognizing them. much exaggerated expression on the face and a bit too much flailing of the arms i thought. was it was a blow your mind coincidence that the three met again, especially since they live and play within a five block radius of the lower east side? after she gave us enough details about that night last week and how drunk she had been, she let us order a bottle of wine. she also gave matt her number.
matt told me what kind of guys he found attractive. thin, cute, he said he liked korean guys too. and i could only think of one person i knew that little matthias would desire. yes boie-magnet, you know who you are. after we finished our wine, we were very tipsy and it was time to go home. however on our way to matt's apt, jen decided another drink had to be had. i was led by force into a different bar, matt following us in without too much hesitation. we ordered another round and it was all over for me. i don't know exactly at which point i crossed from buzzed-and-feeling-good to drunk-drunk-sick. i made it to the bathroom where i pulled my hair back into a bun and damned the mushroom soup as it was now working against me.
for those of you who know me and have seen me in such a state before, you know the routine: i will sleep, no matter where. after bathroom visit, i went outside to get some air. i sat down on a door stoop of the building next to the bar and wanted to sleep. people coming out of the bar stopped by to ask me if i was okay while swaying back and forth themselves. jen and matt soon came out and i could feel them trying to get me up. the blue pashmina scarf had unfolded and was haphazardly wrapped around my neck, covering half of my face. i couldn't really walk so jen held my arm but this was little help as jen also could not walk. she soon left me and pranced into the street, jumping around and mumbling things.
what i remember thereafter:
got to matt's apt. was quite tidy. jen and i tumbled onto his futon. his cat meowed. matt said "good night girls."
the morning was terrible. one thing though, when i opened the window and looked out, i saw all these buildings and this was so nice. i liked waking up in the city. we got bagels. they went to work and i took the train home. stayed hungover for remainder of the day.
there are pictures from this night. online. one particular photo of me that jen and matt like to refer to as "the homeless picture".
12.25.01 merrychristmas
it is now one hour into christmas day. i am home chatting online, picking on christmas cookies, put my hair up in pigtails. dave is drinking iced tea and could also be wearing his hair in pigtails. jen is probably drunk at a family party. joe is also out drinking with fobs most likely. sare and jane are in pittsburgh. emi, poor little emi is working the night shift at the hotel. she is now asking (on im), why a single and fun loving girl such as myself is not out on a hot date. since when are hot dates a part of the christmas eve tradition? i am home with family minus the brother who i have seen for a total of 15mins since he has returned from school.
after dinner my parents and i watched a poor film adaptation of the Bible, probably made in the early seventies. the movie starts with adam and eve and works its way through to the part about God asking abraham to sacrifice his son. right after that scene, the movie actually *titled* The Bible, just ends with THE END flashing up on the screen accompanied by a dramatic musical score.
my mother is watching an infomercial on the ronco rotisserie oven and i know she is wanting it bad. only a month ago she was lusting after a foreman grill. before that was the mochi maker, the bread maker, the hand held blender, i can go on and on back to when we first moved to the states and mini toaster ovens were all the rage. yet somehow she has not replaced our only cork screw that had been borrowed *months* ago by our neighbors and never returned. consequently, there is a bottle of zinfandel sitting on the kitchen table, cork still in place, but cracked and bored into by a screw driver, as a result of some serious efforts from yours truly.
the oven, valued at $400 is now only five payments of $19.99. this includes a levitation tray, top tray, side trays, fat collecting tray... the sales host is now holding up a measuring cup that is 1/4 filled with chicken fat. "there is nothing more horrific than chicken fat." his hostess makes a face. she'd rather have leprosy. now there's a doctor who is talking about the dangers of fats. just to the left of his head, there is a 6lbs chicken rotating in an oven. it is glistening and golden brown. maybe i should get it for mom. she is talking about its usefulness as though we *roast* all our food, and the spitfire grill in our front yard has become too much of a hassel. maybe i'll get it. will think about it tomorrow.
spent most of day eating. mom is kareoke-ing in the living room. she is trying to get my brother to sing. dude. he is so bad.