Heart Attack, Party of One

Hello all,

I am writing you today from the Pendleton Community Library. Sorry I have not written in a while I was just assessing the damage of my life before picking up the pieces, pulling my shit together and taking the next step. Fun, no?

I just got done looking at grad schools online, Northwestern and Ohio State to be exact, and HOLY GEEZ! they look scary. Just about as scary as my college advisor/department chair from Butler whom I have been talking to for advice. I was hesitating talking to her cause she scares the bejeezes out of me but she has been supportive, but not too much, informative, but not too much, and helpful, but not too much. I essentially want a golden opportunity to fall into my lap, but apparently it doesn't work like that.

Anyways these grad programs look SUPER hard. I was with "he who shall not be named" for 2 years in VA while he was getting his MFA, and that didn't look near this hard. I though I could just go to a university choreograph a couple musicals, teach a couple of jazz classes, terrorize some freshmen and be on my merry way, degree in hand. But like a golden opportunity, apparently it doesn't happen like that. Philosophy, kinesiology, gender studies, more effing ballet classes? Listen, I am not interested in studying why African tribal women echo subtle nuances of their cultural heritage in their rain dances that are mirrored in Laban movement analysis which I will now notate for you while I complete my third ballet class, followed by my 18th hokey-pokey, rollin' around on the the floor modern class while in my spare time I will try to develop the musculature of a Chippendale's stripper just to make myself the best dancer I can be! For Christ's sake! I just want to be lauded and magnified for being unquestionably awesome for dancing and achievements that could do in my sleep!! Is that so much?

On a lighter note, I have had some interesting conversations with the Mom lately. One of my favorites including a geography lesson. We had just finished watching a a commercial about Alaska and Sarah Palin.

Me: "Isn't is crazy how big Alaska is when you compare it to the rest of the US?"

Mom: "Mm-hmm."

"Well anyway, my legs still hurt from walking around New York. One day I walked like 80 blocks. I swear. By the end of the day I probably could have walked all the way back to the apt. on 190th St. and the Subway only goes to 207th."

"How big is New York?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, how big is it?"

"We'll I just said that said that it was 207 blocks long and let's just say that it's 20ish blocks wide. Do you know how long a NY city block is?"

"YES (duh implied)! But, is it as big as Pendleton?"

"Mom, do you know how big Pendleton is?"

"YES! (duh)...........Is it as big as Anderson?"

"Mom you just said that you know how big Pendleton is and that you knew the distance of a city block, Figure it out."

"But like, just tell me! Like Anderson, Pendleton................or like ...................Alaska?"

"ALASKA! Mom, are you seriously asking me if New York City is the size of Alaska? ALASKA?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know these things?"

Touche Mom, you only assistant-teach kindergarten. That is clearly more of a 3rd grade question.

On a completely different note, I have decided to switch to hard liquor, as opposed to beer. I think it will do wonders to my calorie intake.

I will leave you now, as I go to Target to try to rustle up a Halloween costume for the day after Halloween party I am going to. I am no too much of a costume person, for more than obvious reasons, so I am looking for a costume with the right amount of dignity and notoriety, so I don't have to explain who I am all night long. On Friday (Halloween night) I have no plans and neither do the parents, whom I have had to become accustomed to calling eachother by their first names. That is very unsettling. I have mentioned to Mom my intrigue in seeing High School Musical 3, though I don't think she plans on actually going. It's probably for the best. I don't think I could stand seeing a movie with her.

"Noah, is that the kid from the commercials that are on during the news?"

"Mom, stop it."

"What are they saying?"

"Stop it."

"Well, that was kind of good, right?"

"Stop it."

"Do you want half of this apple from my purse?"

"Stop it."

"Do you think they're going to stop the movie for a bathroom break?"

"Stop it."

I could really just go on, but I think I'll just bring my friend "Hidden Bottle of Vodka" instead. We always have such pleasant conversation.