Epic Flail

Scene: Government 54, U.S. Foreign Policy

Actors: The Professor, kickass
Me, spastic
Phil, less spastic

As participation is "highly encouraged and may be factored into our grades" I have been known to occasionally do the reading for this class. I don't always work up the nerve to contribute, but sometimes, the pretentious assholes (we have a female one in this class, how diverse), sometimes they get to me and I work up the nerve to raise my hand. El profesor, who is actually a very cool guy, is sensitive to the fact that it's kind of awkward to have people sitting there with their hands up and to maintain a sense of order/blood circulation, he usually acknowledges the group of people with their hands raised, a la "Okay, so we'll hear from Radical Republican, Stoner Hippie, and then Caffeinegirl."

Everyone collectively tunes out Radical Republican, as that's better for your blood pressure. I surreptitiously check blitz on my phone. Rad Repub shuts up and THEN. The prof calls on me OUT OF ORDER. Flustered, I attempt to compose my thoughts.

For some reason, this causes me to FLING MY PHONE DOWN THE CENTER AISLE OF THE ROOM. The phone is shiny. The carpet is slippery. It slides ALL THE WAY TO THE FRONT ROW, where it lands next to Phil, fellow newspaper slave. He quickly picks it up.

I have no idea what I said after that, but I'm not sure if I recovered successfully or not. I kind of doubt it.


To do: GLUE PHONE TO HAND.

No cheating

i know there is no way I can convince you that this is not one of their tricks. but i don't care. i am me. my name is valerie. i don't think i'll live much longer and i wanted to tell someone about my life. this is the only autobiography i will ever write and god--i'm writing it on toilet paper.

i was born in nottingham in 1985. i don't remember much about those early years, but i do remember the rain. my grandmother owned a small farm in tuttlebrook and she used to tell me that god was in the rain.

i passed my eleven-plus and went to girl's grammar. it was at school that i met my first girl friend. her name was sarah. it was her wrists--they were beautiful. i thought we would love each other forever. our teacher told us it was an adolescent phase that people outgrew. sarah did. i didn't.

in 2002 i fell in love with a girl named kristina. that year i came out to my parents. i couldn't have done it without kris holding my hand. my father wouldn't look at me. he told me to go and never come back. my mother said nothing. but i had only told them the truth. was that so selfish? our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. it is that very last inch of us--but within that inch we are free.

i'd always known what i wanted to do with my life and in 2015 i starred in my first film, the salt flats. it was the most important role of my life, not because of my career, but because it was how i met ruth. the first time we kissed, i knew i never wanted to kiss any other lips but hers again.

we moved to a small flat in london together. she grew scarlet castles for me in our window-box and our place always smelled of roses. those were the best years of my life.

but america's war grew worse, and eventually came to london. after that there were no roses anymore. not for anyone

i remember how the meaning of words began to change. how unfamiliar words like collateral and rendition became frightening while things like norsefire and the articles of allegiance became powerful.

i remember how different became dangerous. i still don't understand it. why they hate us so much. they took ruth while she was out buying food. i'd never cried so hard in my life. it wasn't long before they came for me.

it seems strange that my life should end in such a terrible place but for three years i had roses and apologized to no one.

i shall die here. every inch of me shall perish. every inch but one. it is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having. we must never lose it or give it away. we must never let them take it from us.
i hope whoever you are that you escape this terrible place. i hope that the world turns and that things get better. but most of all i hope that you understand what i mean when i tell you that even though i do not know you, that i will never meet you, cry with you, laugh with you, or kiss you--i love you. with all my heart. i love you.

valerie.

this is so deeply frightening.

5.6 liters is quite a bit.

you're pretty sure you were never even close.

but you've seen her.

she might be close.

she might even be over.

and she is so tiny.

Overheard

'10 girl: "I would SO do her, but, like, platonically."
'10 guy: "So...sex yes, sexual tension, no?"
'10 girl: "Exactly."

RIGHT.

UPDATE

There are actual things for me to write about, which will come, I swear, but for now...

I WENT STREAKING!!!

It was awesome.

/self call!

News: Anti-sorority rush sucks just as much as rush.

you liar.

I have so much to say that I can't write anything.

you said, "but you're only seventeen."

i fought you.

know something?

you were right.

Allegedly we are all highly intelligent

We sat around brainstorming excuses. Not "the printer ate my homework and my hard drive crashed and I have mono"-level excuses. Real ones, that stop professors flat and leave them speechless, but in an extension-granting mood.

We settled on "I'm so sorry my paper is late, but my brother came out to my religious parents and I had to go home to do damage control."

This narrowly beat out "My sister had an abortion and there were complications."

Of course, we could have done our work instead.

He would have said hung

I am sitting here editing someone's article.

He should be hanged for war crimes against the English language.

Clearly, I am from the wrong planet

Possible reasons that my mother, who has a habit of disappearing to the deepest recesses of the house while boiling water for tea, freaks out if anyone shuts off the burner when the whistle goes off.

....
....
....

Screw it, I can't even come up with something mildly plausible, let alone amusing.

/"WAIT! I'LL GET IT!" Her voice echoes from the crawl space under the basement. The piercing whistle bores into my brain and I draw closer to the ever-approaching brink of INSANITY.

Applied logic

The mother has a desk in her study, which is covered with miscellaneous paper, and a desk in the kitchen, which is covered with cookbooks. Thus, she does her writing at the computer that is on the brother's desk. Since he tends to go to sleep and turn out the lights, she does most of her work in the dark.

The brother does his work at the kitchen table, because his desk is covered with the mother's manuscripts.

We eat sitting on stools at the kitchen counter, because the table is covered with the brother's homework, except for the sister, because her space at the counter is covered with her math homework. The sister carries a plate of food into the study, where her English homework is spread out on the floor, and sits next to the plate of food for about an hour. She then throws the food out in the downstairs bathroom, which does not contain anyone's homework.

The father has decided to do all of his work in his Manhattan office, and to eat all of his meals before he comes home.

If I had an office in the city, I WOULD BE THERE.

the long awaited return...

"It's Project Runway--we're talking about reality show royalty here. I bet even Anton Scalia watches it."

~La professora increíble

mathematics

she always gets chinese or indian

which is more expensive than pizza

but is based on rice

rice grains stay separate the whole time

easier

it costs more

but it's less in the end if you know what she's adding up

None of you speak Dartmouth, but...

There are no posts

I realize this. *shame.*

However: I have a paper and finals coming up. That should generate some ACTIVE STUDYING, by which I mean massive procrastination.

Also: part of the reason there were no updates is because I started writing a humor column for the less-uptight section of our paper. I have not posted them here because they are essentially gigantic inside jokes about our campus, but...anyone interested?

I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.

WHAT THE HELL. IS WRONG. WITH YOU PEOPLE?

ALL OF YOU?

Overheard

Frat guy: Yo, sorry, you have to leave, we can’t let high school people in.

High school girl, as she throws a beer in the guy's face: I AM A GROWN-ASS BITCH!

Guy, as he escorts her out: Too bad, we don’t let grown-ass bitches in either.

probably the best thing that you can do right now is accept that this is going to be a SLOW process.

y sabes que este sería más rapida en españa, pero sabes que no es posible. aunque tu te preguntes porque estaba necessario a volver, entiendes al mismo tiempo porque. es porque ahora tienes algo para que no hay una palabra ni en castellano ni en ingles. este es mas importante que españa.

pero te lo extrañas, es una país hermosa con cosas perfectas.

particularmente el café. estaba si bueno pero al mismo tiempo no estaba necessario. estaba una elección. nunca vas a saber si estaba una eleción porque estaba bueno o si estaba bueno porque estaba una elección.

me parece mas como una chica emo en castellano que en ingles. tu les pides perdon, pero conoces si poco de la idioma y también ahora misma la estas pediendo.