Posts published during March, 2002

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Smell-O-Vision

Dude, the smelliest man in Blacksburg sat in front of me on the bus today. His odor was a little like boiled dumplings and sour cream. And since boiled dumpling and sour cream smells a lot like pit funk, one could deduce that the smell was not pleasant. It sort of reminded me of Nickolai.

Serial Killer Dad met Nickolai soon after his illegal immigration into the U.S. Nickolai had been a wealthy artisan in Russia, but in Alaska he was just a poor carpenter with a thick accent. One day Nickolai invited the fam over to his and Olga’s place for dinner. We dined on boiled meats – very smelly boiled meats. To chase down the meal, Nickolai brought out his jar of Kimchee he had buried in the yard months before. Again, the food was smelly. Of course, the grand finale involved many many shots of Vodka – we were dining with the Russians after all.

Poor Serial Killer Dad and Step Mom – they like honey liquers, box wine and imported beer – they are not exactly the straight-no-chaser vodka crowd. The problem of course, is that to refuse “wadka” from a Russian host is practically sacrilegious. So I watched as Dad grimaced and gulped, drink after drink. Then, he slowly turned pink, and a little bit giddy. This was somewhat distrubing, considering Daddy-O typically appears stern and imposing with his wild tangle of black hair, dark european features, and enormous biceps.

In fact, at one point, Dad, in an effort to look more villanous, had Step Mom draw several versions of “Evil Goatees” on his chin with her eyeliner pencil. After consulting with us kids about which version of the E. Goattee made him look the most like a serial killer, (hence the nickname), Dad began to grow said goattee. And what a scary Dad he became! But not really.

Anyway, the whole point of this story is that the Russian food smelled, so did the dude on the bus. Also Dad got drunk, and his goattee made him look like Disney’s Jafar.

file this under: the sweet smell of reminiscence

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Woe. Woe

>So I just came back from an awful test on satellites and telephony. I trudged from Smyth Hall, shoulders drooping, ass kicked, into the out of doors where it was suddenly pouring rain. And I thought hoowooowwowww app-propriate. (I had to throw a little “all i really want” in there, as a tribute to Alanis.)

Back at O’Hännhnessy, I squished my sopping sneaks into the elevator, only to see peices of my beloved bulletin board strewn about the floor boards haphazardly. Man, it’s great to see that someone appreciated my effort enough to distribute it to a broader, elevating audience. But I can’t really complain on that front. My board lasted – intact – for approximately 24 days. My boards in Lee stayed up, if i was lucky, for a whole 24 hours.

What I’m really pissed off about is this client project i’m working on. I know what you’re thinking. Yes, after the fiasco of the grant proposal project, I am crazy to work with clients again. Maybe I’m just sadistic, I just can’t stay away from client project hell.

So these new projects i’m working on – in my web class one dude dropped out of our group already. We are down to three people – one of whom is our computer guru – the only one who knows anything about web design. The only problem with him – he only makes it to about 30% of our classes. Since we only meet twice a week, this is extremelly problematic. Also, our client in the web class – well, let’s just say they don’t like anything anyone has proposed. Basically, they want us to give them the same page they already have.

My theory is, the page was originally produced by a monkey. And that monkey was smoking crack cocaine.

Same deal in my doc design class. This guy, we’ll call him Mr. Mussolini, he keeps changing his mind about this stupid project. He wants us to design his stuff, but he thinks what we create is shit. And it’s shit, because we made it, not him. This guy is a science man and he’s telling us how to write and design aesthetically. Puh-leese! I guess if we could attach big hoses to his brain and siphon out the design content, then maybe we could make a design he likes. But that design would suck.

On a more personal front, I am also pissed at myself. I made some pretty stupid assumptions regarding the Angelface in my life. And Dad always says, “Hänni, when you make assumptions, you make an ass out of yourself.” I am a gigantic ass. I don’t know how to fix this sitch, but I’m trying. Poor Angel.

Life ranking on the pissiness-o-meter: we’re in the yellow zone folks, tottering on the edge of red alert!

I had the most delightful study session ever. Although we didn’t really get any studying done, I did learn that my study buddy is from the west coast. This is extremelly novel considering nobody from the west coast actually ends up in south west virginia – nobody except me – and now, michelle. Michelle goes to school at Oregon State with my demented friend from home, Breckan-the-law. What a small world.

Anyway, so I have a new fish. No, i’m not trying to replace Minh, because that could never be accomplished. I actually bought Paulo and his long, luxurious fins before Minh’s passing. Some friends h ave said that Minh died of jealousy. But Minh wasn’t like that. He was just gorgeous, yellow, and lethargic. He didn’t have the energy for jealousy.

In any event, paulo is swimming happily on top of my book shelf. Yesterday I left the mirror next to his tank all day, and when i got home from class he wasn’t moving. He was just sitting there, staring into space. His eyes looked glazed, and I thought he too had passed.

Horrified, I imagined myself a fish killer.

But then I made zack come poke Paulo with a fishing net, and he swam around. It seems that the mirror served to piss Paulo off just enough that he began a staring contest with the enemy-fish, which was really just his reflection in the mirror.

I can relate to Paulo’s imbalance. Dawson has been reruning since the first week of March, and I am really starting to miss that junx. When will they come out with a Dawson’s DVD? let’s face it – even sorority boys will have a DVD some day. Sometimes I think there is no justice in the world.

life ranking on the Can’t-live-without-Dawson’s-on-DVD-o-meter: 90% (Why not 100% Well, realistically, I guess I could conveivably live without the Dawsons DVD – I mean, as long as I had food and water, I could still keep on breathing. But why would anyone want to live in a world without digital DC?)

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Summer Lovin’

You won’t beleive this… I got a job! No, I am not frought with grief at the prospect of spending my summer hard at work. This job is sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet, as my friend Drewby would say.

The whole job sitch had put me in a very foul mood the past couple weeks. First, I got offered this prestigous job working with interns in the senate. It was a cool job, but the renting an apartment was going to be about $900/month from my $1200 paycheck. That is just like being a poor student – but without taking any classes. Plus, that job conflicted with my RAC training in the fall, so I couldn’t take it. I just couldn’t.

And I was pulling my hair out, crying.

So Friday I call the Senator’s office, mentally prepared to reject the offer, suddenly, they become flexible with my dates. It turns out they can accomodate my schedual, so it won’t conflict with the RAC junx. My mind was reeling. I thought I would throw up – from both happiness to be given the chance I thought I’d lost, and horror as I realized I couldn’t take the job anyway. It was too late. I had already divorced myself mentally from the Senate.

Well that same Friday I was expecting a call from Residential and Dining Programs possibly offering me a job in Blacksburg for the summer. I thought, well if I don’t get the D.C. job, hopefully the campus one will work out. I mean, the boss ladies from the campus job were funny, and energetic. By contrast, the senate people were disorganized, a bit schmaltzy, and maybe innappropriate – one guy I interviewed with had a picture of me infront of him and he goes, “which one are you…. oh nice.”

This is me Friday:

Friday 8 am – wake up in agony, because have to call the senators office and turn down cool job

8:15 – check email to see if campus job has decided

8:25 – still no email

8:45 – hurrah! an email. Damn, it’s from a teacher, telling me I’ve got HW for the weekend

9:00- play bejeweled to get mind off impending horror of the day

10:30 – still playing bejeweled. Have also turned on Sally show. Guests are all teen girls who want to be made over to look like Booby Spears

10:55 – realize that I have class at 11:15, so pull a dirty sweatshirt on over my pjs and head to Torgy

12:00 – back from class… still no email

12:30 – 2:00 – lunch with lare. Finally call the Senate

2:30 -5:00 – lie in bed depressed, because still no email from campus people, and formally have given up the senate gig

5:30 – realize that I am loser, and that no one loves me – especially, the on campus hiring manager

5:30 – midnight – much of the same moping

Well I finally called the campus people today, and they were like “congratulations!” and I was like “you don’t think i’m a huge loser? You do want to hire me! Yes, my letter was probably lost somewhere.”

Hurray, am employed. Can quit the skulkiness. Can start worrying about the things in life that really matter; things like shopping, sleeping, and how to eat icecream without getting the calories.

File this under: a sudden salvation

Please forgive my absence from the blogging world. This past week or so has been difficult. My love, my life, my darling Minh Twin has passed from this earth, and has gone on to flip his fins in that big fish bowl in this sky. I will miss his lethargy – he was possibly the only creature on this earth lazier than myself. I will miss his beautiful golden gills, and black pouty, Mick- Jaggeresque mouth.

I was thinking about Minh, and the attachments we form in our lives. Through this tragedy, I’ve learned to be thankful. Thankful for the chance to even know Minh. Thankful for the chance to love.

Everyone knows, and it’s no big secret. I love.

I love smug ellie, my everyday friend, even though she is often angry, even though her short hair is cuter than mine, even though she is a chain smoker and her blowing chokes my throat.

I love Nolie, my best friend, and a domestic wonder, who makes the most fabulous chocolate chip cookies ever ? so gooey, so rich, and thoroughly decadent. Enola is giving me wrinkles ? the kind you get around your mouth – from making me smile all the time.

I also love Starla, my one and only, my off-again-on-again friend, a terrified lesbian from the age of fifteen; terrified that her conservative parents will disown her for liking girls; terrified that she will never like boys; Star is so terrified that at 17 she fantasizes about drowning herself in the lake ? but she never does.

I love Mom. Everyone knows I love Mom. She calls me ?precious girl? or ?pumpkin? or ?cupcake.? She lets me follow my dreams, even when they take me far from her, to places like Japan and Virginia.

I love Mom?s daughter, Spank, my eccentric sister. And I love Tommy, Nick and Jamie, my trio of affable brothers.

Of course, I can’t forget angelface. I love angelface, my boyfriend, my confidante, my future husband?

It’s no secret. I love.

Rest in Peace Minh – 1/2001 – 3/2002