Since all I've done in the last MONTH or so is post clips from movies I like, proof that Joel Hodgson is awesome, and arguable proof that Nicolas Cage does not suck quite as much as everyone says he does, I feel like I owe yon minions something about my actual life and what's happening in it (although we all know that clips are kind of what you've come to expect of me. Am I the human equivalent of a VH1 special? Well, let's not go into that).
1. I'm all done with Creative Writing MFA applications, and will find out whether I got into Brown, Cornell, Iowa, Michigan, Oregon, Pittsburgh, Portland State, Texas-Austin, Virginia, Wisconsin-Madison, or none of the above. I'll start hearing back from places in about a month, which is a simultaneously daunting and extremely exciting prospect. I'm basically trying not to think about it too much. But I do plan to throw the party to end all parties once I've heard back from everywhere and decided where I'm going, a party whose nature can be understood if the reader comprehends these two facts of my life:
A. My friend Emily lives next to a Hostess outlet.
B. I own a deep fat fryer.
How could anything be better? I ask you. And, of course, if any of you live in the Portland area and would like to shorten their life span by about five years, come and be creative (and fat).
2. My classes are almost uniformly brilliant this term, partly because I'm not taking twenty credits and therefore don't constantly feel like my brain is trickling out through my ears and down my neck. It's a good feeling. I'm in two highly cerebral English classes, a super serial Women's Studies class, and Spanish 102, where we draw monsters to learn the parts of the body ("tiene ocho ojos, cuatro narices, y dos cabezas, y la prima cabeza solo tiene uno ojo. Y gusta fumar y leer"). I love 100-level Spanish because it's exactly like the second grade in another language, and I really, really miss the second grade. Especially the part where you get to draw monsters.
3. I've been working out nearly every day lately (although it's been more like once every other day for the last week or so, since I've gotten busy and lazy), lost ten pounds, and fit into size-10 jeans that I haven't been able to wear since my fist Christmas vacation home from Bennington, when I lost weight because I was depressed and lovesick and really lame. Let me tell you, replacing fat with muscle is so much better than just dropping weight because you're miserable. (Or is that obvious? Hm.)
I now go out of my way to watch movies starring people with great muscles, and have decided that this is kind of what it's like to be a guy--the way that middle school (and high school, and college, god help us) girls look at thinspo pictures
and say "I wanna be like that!" I watch Kurt Russell movies. (No, I don't want to be as
muscular as Kurt Russell--that would result in a Tango & Cash
crossdressing situation--I'm going more for Conan-
era Sandahl Bergman. But were the world mine...)
It's funny, because this whole workout craze started after I bought a Cindy Crawford workout and a Claudia Schiffer workout with Emily and Everyday Music one day, and was at first just a celebrity workout craze. But the Cindy Crawford workout involved weights, which as we all know are a girl's best friend, and then the classic Firm series was introduced into my life, and once you've done a workout that involves clear-and-pressing ten-pound dumbbells over your head until you feel like your arms are going to snap off, jumping around your living room until you look like you've been thrown in a lake, and basically feeling for an hour or so like you're going to die right then and there...baby, you never go back.
4. Do I have a number 4? I don't know. Three seems like too few. I went to the dog show yesterday, and saw ten corgis AT ONCE in the same place. It's like walking around on Halloween and seeing a herd of batmen, or something.
5. I think I'm going to draw some monsters now.
6. But how are you?