Dramatic Monotony

Wednesday, September 25, 2002


If you didn't already see my away message, I'll post it here.

We have a new addition to our family! My cousin is now the proud mother of Ethan William Gough, a striking 6 lb 9 oz. lad. We're so proud... now I'm just trying to convince my dad that this means that we need a family vacation to England to see the darling baby boy!!! I'm excited. I'll post a picture as soon as I have one.

Tuesday, September 24, 2002

"Dance to the Music" is permanently stuck in my head.

Since the Silk-leus has been dissolved and altered this year, we've enacted a new name for the "clique." (But we miss you, Raquel, Becky and Liz!!!) We decided to revert back to good old-fashioned band tradition. Evidently in Meri and Karen's year, there was a group of the "Bitches." Now, we're the Whores.

Sam-I-am = "Deaf Whore"
TG = "Lazy Whore"
Jiggles = "Jiggly Whore"
Orgy = "Ex-whore" or "Born Again Whore" (we're still deciding)
Swinger = "Dumb Whore" (But I still prefer "Soror-Whore")

It was a momentous time in our section. Thank you Justin, Amy, Judy, and Chris for witnessing this solemn occasion.

Monday, September 23, 2002

To quote Jay, "Like, whoa."

Last night, I walk out of the south entrance to Troy and saw people walking. This in itself isn't too unusual. However, these people were dressed in tuxedos and couture gowns. They were coming from the direction of the Shrine. And three of them were carrying Emmy's. We didn't stand and gawk. We just went to Denny's. But it's a bit surreal. In that light, these famous people... didn't look so famous. They kinda looked like high schoolers on their way back from the prom. One girl was even carrying her beautiful Manolo Blahnik stilettos. I didn't bother trying to figure out who they were. It was much too normal for that.

I have a paper due today - but I've been too sick to actually work on it. I didn't eat anything at Denny's, so I can't blame it on food poisoning. Damn stomach. I was feeling a lot better on Saturday - maybe the fact that I thought I was better made me even worse. I need to see the doctor today.

Sunday, September 22, 2002


How sweet! Inertia said I was his prettiest friend, his cutest friend, the one with the best smile, and tied for best hair with his friend Clarie. (That sentence had no grammatical coherence, but who cares!?) Anyway, that was nice of him. A bit excessive, but nice nevertheless.

And Nicole, you're a fun person to drink with. We should do that more often. I had a great time last night with you and my boys!

Saturday, September 21, 2002

Damn wildcats.

At least they didn't win by 21 points like I thought they were going to. But still. Mike did bring up one redeeming feature... "When it all comes down to the end, though, they still live in Kansas, and we live in California." Good point, Mike. You're a smart one.The Big XII is a great conference, though. I do have lingering feelings of attachment towards them... growing up in Texas, how could I not? I love the University of Texas almost as much as I love USC. I think I would've been happy there, as well. But now I'm a dedicated Trojan... so fuck Kansas! Oregon State will be an amazing game... too bad I can't be there. I'm SO upset about this on-campus retreat, to tell the truth. I mean, really, who schedules a retreat for a HOME GAME?! Come on, Kincaid.

There's nothing quite like stepping out onto the field of the Coliseum in front of a screaming crowd of thosands. During the opening strains of Fanfare, the SILKS are the only people on the field. There's no one in front of me - I feel like I'm by myself on that collosal field. And it's an inspired moment. The Trojan Marching Band is truly amazing, especially when you just stop to listen. Under normal circumstances, I just take them for granted - they're my friends and acquaintances. I see them almost every day. But at that one moment, I realize what great musicians they truly are, what beautiful fight songs we have, and suddenly the 'SC traditions fall into place, working its time-honored magic. I forget all of the work, sweat, and tears - I'm part of something much bigger. All the shit falls away. It's almost a religious experience. My dad wants me to quit. He has good reasons - the turmoil in my section, the teasing and the gossip, the copious amount of time it consumes, the vulgarity of the members. But I just don't see how I can walk away from it. The TMB is the sole reason why I stayed here this year, to be honest.

On a less dramatic note - Hess, your party was GREAT!!! I had a wonderful time. When you hit that boy while whacking at the pinata, it was a classic moment. Ted, Tim, John, and I had WAY too much fun tossing that balloon around. And even Brent was being charming, in his own manner. I was impressed by his good behavior. You should turn 19 more often! I suppose it's my birthday soon - unfortunately, the band's not giving me a free trip to Chicago this year. But it'll still be fun!

To summarize: Hoorah for 19th birthdays, the TMB and boo to the wildcats.

Friday, September 20, 2002

Blah, blah, blah.

I think I'm getting an stomach ulcer. Hess, what does that feel like, exactly? I feel like I have a permanent knot in my insides. Sometimes it cramps, sometimes it just aches, sometimes I just feel like throwing up. Could it be stress? I'm going to see the doctor on Monday, if it continues through the weekend.

Despite the pain, though, I had a beautiful Thursday night. I went to Tigerbeat with Hector, Mr. Ed, Stephanie, Anna, Judy, Justin, Wendy, Sam, and several of the yell leaders. First, we had a little pre-party at Scott, the yell leader's apartment, then we set off for Hollywood. I'm not much of a club-goer... but I was just having a ball. I've only been to Tigerbeat once before, when it was at a different location. But now it's on Sunset, at a much larger venue. I've never seen so many beautiful people in one place. And I've decided that I want to be a man, just so I could be a drag queen - they were exquisite. A woman could never successfully pull off outfits/hair/makeup like that. Our group just went crazy on the dance floor. I've never seen so much mayhem in one place. I don't particularly love pop dance music with any sort of passion whatsoever, but I was singing along to the songs with the rest of the club. It was fun, and a good way to forget about all of the pressures of the past month for a while. Hector had a WONDERFUL idea when he suggested this trip. You're the best, baby.

Right now, I'm inclined to throw myself into my studies. My classes are just wonderful - I like every single one of them. The reading's difficult, and we've been havign a rash of papers due lately, but I'm taking it in stride. I've discovered the wonder of the Doheny bookstacks. I love being surrounded by the smell of musty old tomes. You can easily get lost in the narrow mazes of volumes, but in a way, it seems so familar. It reminds me of my childhood. I used to spend hours wandering around my "mom's" library. I would sit on the carpet and pick out one or two books that had interesting covers. Then I'd find the darkest, most isolated corner and just read for hours. My mom would always have problems finding me when she wanted to leave.

Academia seems like one of my last few refuges, since marching band has ceased to be a source of pure pleasure, like it was earlier. Joke or not, I just can't forget that initial shock of embarrassment and horror. It's been a long time since I've been so mortified. And it's been a long time since I've seen something so blatantly mean-spirited and cruel. But I suppose it's a wake-up call. Sepi chided me today. I think she has a good point. She was saying that I care too much about other people, their opinions, and their disappointments. Sepi also said that I should prioritize my emotional involvement. In a way, she's right. The most prominent aspect of my character is my ability to empathize with others and connect with people. I want to find the good in everyone, and I tend to wear my own heart on my sleeve. But it also drains me. And gets me into trouble. While I may be open, honest, and well-intentioned, it's difficult to cope with the fact that other people just aren't like that.

I called my dad today, and he's not doing too well either. His best friend from childhood just had two heart attacks and died. He's in shock - evidently this happened last month, and he's just now finding out about Allen's funeral. I feel horrible about the entire ordeal - Allen was a lovely man, extremely welcoming and kind. We went to visit them two years ago in Staffordshire, when Dad and I had our own little English vacation. We had a great time visiting his and his wife Marianne's lovely Victorian house. They were in the midst of remodeling it, room by room. They only had three more rooms left - I wonder if it ever got finished?

God, my blogger's so depressing. I suppose it's in stark contrast to me "in person." I'm rarely without a smile on my face or a ready laugh. I'm actually an optimistic being, with my head screwed on straight. I suppose it's just easier to vent the tragic junk.

Thursday, September 19, 2002

Last night's Hitchcock class can be summed up in one quote.

"This is the housekeeper, the lesbo." - Dr. Drew.

I couldn't stop laughing after that. Heck, it still makes me laugh.

And by the way, Jessica, you're the best! I should always chill at your apartment - heavenly food, great music, festive atmosphere. What more could a person want?

And Brent, I'll let you know about your "people." I could probably use them in a couple of days.

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

I hate you.

I truly do.

That was mean-spirited, invasive, and just plain rude.

You know what I'm talking about.

And I'm not a psycho, thankyouverymuch. At least get that much right.

But thanks for the free publicity.

I've had a mediocre day.

Nothing bad happened. But nothing GREAT happened. I'm over at Kristen's apartment right now, just chilling. Which is fun. But she's going through emotional turmoil. Which is not fun.

I had greasy Thai food tonight. Yummy!

Umm... Yeah, my life is boring right now. I'm in a "blah" mood... actually, it's a case of the "greys." It's a strange mood - not quite melancholy, but more wistful and introspective. I remember I used to go swimming at dusk, and when I'd get out of the pool, it'd be nearly dark. I'd wrap myself up in a towel and sit on our hearth in the living room. The damp swimming suit, the sadness of getting out of the pool, and a general sense of malaise would just intermingle in my mind... and it'd turn grey. Hence my name for the mood. And lately, I've just been feeling grey.

I'm sure I'll get over it soon. Perhaps it's hormone related. Damn female things.

But I love band. And I'm happy that I have something to love. And I'm visiting SC's Episcopalian group on Thursday. We'll see how that goes. Hopefully, it will be good.

Alright, that's enough. I'm going to go to sleep on Kristen's couch now. G'night.

Monday, September 16, 2002

I needed to hear this:


Still procrastinating. But now I wonder if I broke my nose. Because it's sore. And I hit it on Saturday. Should it still hurt? Who knows... but why do I have the strange feeling that I pulled a "Becky"?

I'm the only person in the library right now. It's a strange feeling.

I should work some more. I don't have very long until this is actually due. 11 is coming faster and faster.

I've decided I'm a predictable person. There are just some things that don't change. Let me list a few:
1. I procrastinate. A lot.
2. I tend to make a fool out of myself in front of big crowds.
3. I like to make fun of myself.
4. Despite appearances, I'm actually an extremely sensitive person.
5. I like TMB drummers. Even though I'm not sure if I actually *like* them. They're all arrogant assholes, but they amuse me.
6. I enjoy reading, but I don't do it enough. I'm always trying to cut down on my tv in order to read some more.
7. I drink a lot of Coke. And lately, I've been drinking a lot of Vanilla Coke.
8. I often forget how lucky I am. I take things for granted, especially material objects.
9. I enjoy talking to people, yet sometimes I just can't think of anything to say.
10. Relationships and I don't mix well. I'm either in a state of disaster or solitude.

Tonight must be the night of lists.

Back to the Knight.

I don't really have anything to say.

Nothing in my life has gone to "plan." I'm not Greek, I'm not attached, I'm not a stellar scholar, I'm not a squad leader, I'm not organized, I'm not a member of a church.

Oh, and I'm not going home for Thanksgiving.

It's going to be a long year. And it's going to be a long night. I don't want to start (or finish) this paper on the Canterbury Tales. Why am I an English major? I dislike writing papers, greatly.

I nearly died tonight, on my way to the library. A car swerved in front of me, trying to make a left turn. I then swerved out of the way. I was three inches from death. There was a lot of squealing of tires. That's scary. That's also the second near accident I've been in this weekend. And the third this week. And all three involved unprotected left turns. I hate LA and its lack of left turn lights.

I think I might be depressed. I'm afraid of a sophomore slump. I had one in high school... will I have one in college? This year is starting to indicate that I might.

I asked a Magic 8 ball about my lacking love life. It said that I'd meet the person I'd marry in college, but we'll fall in love after we're out of school. I laughed a lot. And then I thought about all the people I know here - and I don't know if I could see myself marrying anyone that I've met here, so far. The end of college seems so far away, yet so close. I'm already beginning to freak about the end of my senior year. I hope I go to graduate school, just so I can delay the inevitable process of finding a job.

Jennifer's To Do List:

I want to go into the Peace Corps. I want to live in England. I want to get a Ph.D. and a J.D. I want a car with windshield wipers on the lights. I want to go to a tennis match at Wimbledon. I want to ride a camel in front of the Great Pyramids. I want my own dog. I want to join the Junior League. I want to lean over the side of the Great Wall of China. I want to frollick at Carnaval in Rio. I want to survive living in LA without a major accident. I want to wear floppy hats with piles of artificial roses sewn to the top. I want a maid. I want a building named after me at USC... or a bench.

Maybe I should finish this paper. Perhaps I should start it.