"I've never been in combat"

Tower Court 2003 was awesome. I think being with all girls will be more than fine. In Sean's words "I don't think being at a single sex school is the worst thing that could happen to you" (insert sly smile). Well, funny thing is that I've probably talked to more guys here than I would have if I'd been at a co-ed school. There are a few reasons for this:* Went to find Tori in Claflin and instead found a guy distributing calendars who needed an escort (guys ae only allowed horizontally w/o escorts in our dorms). So I wasn't doing anything and I walked him around. Fun stuff. 16 year old from Utica, NY. *Mixer on Friday at MIT. Horrible experience, felt ugly and unloved. Oh yeah, there were boys there, too. Blech*Saturday my phone accidentally called this guy who I met in July through my uncle and aunt. Subsequently, we're hanging out on Saturday. Yay.*Hung out with the Seanster on Sunday, made a cameo at Emerson (speaking role, too) visited Jman and got to know some of the people on his floor-- and Ellyn was there! It's a co-ed floor. And no drugs allowed on the floor. HIP. *Monday night: Tower Court. Combat boots are not passe yet! Hurray... met some nice MIT frat boys. Must actively revise opinion on frat boys. Or must actively revise opinion on MIT. Maybe a bit of both. Good time. And it was nice to feel free of paranoia for once. Danced with girls, danced with boys, remained sober throughout and still woke up for my 8:30 philosophy class. Jilisham totally messed with my mind with her Story of B-ness, right? The Prof gives us the Man in the Cave example, and I'm more concerned with the CAVE. Who gives about the man? The world is over-populated anyway. So then I tell my mom and she asks me if I'm drunk. Must. start. prioritizing. humans. again.DAMN.Well, I'm enjoying myself immensely. Have to focus a little more on the schoolwork and a little less on weekend plans, but cut me a bit of slack, it is the first week of school after all. Past the boycrazyness, I've been having a lot of fun.. just tired.. need to fix that. Enjoyment of Wellesley = A.

"don't be too nice"

Ay, there's the rub...aka the downside of wanting to get along. Then again, I suppose someone's going to be skeptical of you independent of how much or little you try. Go figure.I've realized that if I am really attracted to someone, I do't have any interest in talking to them. 1. I like the whole Dorian Gray pedestal idea..keeping the dream, not messing with it2. I resent someone else having the power to affect my thoughts3. I resent the attractiveness of the other personWhy should liking someone be such a negative?So in the midst of all this, I'm trying to re-figure out my schedule. Would I really like to take a night course on Dostoevsky? Could I deal with not taking an English class for a semester?The bigget question is whether I'll be able to stay awake in class. Who's holding their breath on that one? Tomorrow we go Boston-ing and I think Saturday I'm helping arrange an excursion to Urban Outfitters. Walked along rt 135 from Dower to Quad wondering what I WANTED to do that I wasn't doing in that moment. Felt alone, though alone's what I thought I wanted since yesterday. Alone's not it. Together? We're supposed to give it 6 months. Ok. I like school, but it's a new place. And this whole idea of slowing down and just taking other classes... doesn't seem possible to me. I never look at the little picture and the roses are just as well sniffed or not.

sitting on the sidewalk

It's amazing how easily one can busy themselves doing nothing. Wow, Ashira, the novelty should have worn off by now-- this is what you did all summer.It's Wednesday for all intensive purpose, but when I wake up in 6 hours it will be Thursday and the 'Big Decisions' begin. Who do I want to be here? I'm worrying about not worrying which is silly. I don't want to just take this, just say "Well, yeah, I mean I DID see it sophomore year and knew that nothing else could compare, that these were my people and this was the ultimate." I feel like that is not quite a humble remark. I should be homesick. Or worried about getting to the MT frats. Or Boston. I'M NOT. Went to the Town Of with M, C, L, S and R.. Au Bon Pain-ed it in classy upper-mid style. It was a trip, my roomate and Kristen walking in front while we stayed in the back and discussed clubbing. There was no Mama Dyke running the roost. Just stories.Maybe this is a stories place.. or maybe this is how you trust people. I'm used to hello as a laundry list of favorite things, a dossier of sorts. I wonder if we'd all be this comfortable if we hadn't known each other at all before. I'm pretty comfortable, but that's nothing new.. it amazes me how easy it is to get someone to open up. How fun it is. I am the scuba diver of pearl smiles.

Here.

So, I'm sitting on my bed talking to a girl from Louisiana about the bayou in her backyard and the golf course her grandfather owns. I'm walking to the greenhouse to get my free plant. I'm watching But I'm a Cheerleader in a room full of people who laugh at the right instances. I'm looking at my art posters covering the beige space.This was NOT something I had to worry about. But I guess I didn't really WORRY about wellesley... well (?) It's iffy. It is cool that we have a 'network' of people we virtually know. But I'm really enjoying the people I'm getting face-time with. They may even have more in common with me. But it feels pretty good thus far. I like my roomate, I like my room, hall, dorm, not our cafeteria so much but there are other options. Classes will be interesting, there are a bunch I want to take, and when I pick on Friday I'll obviously be talking about that in a major way. It's become increasingly clear even at this early stage why everyone loses touch with their non-college friends in college. This is intense. This is all the time. This is fun. High school was not intense like this. Maybe having guys there diluted it (ha, my burgeoning feminist tendencies are on the rise).

are you a loose end? (tie yourself up)

I should be more 'heartbroken' about leaving. Or more enthusiastic about going. No, I am excited. It's going to be great-- I'm bringing Brenner's cookies and... not my stereo. This will be the first time ever without my stereo going with me. I just don't see there being enough space. But reading Story of B definitely makes me hate certain things about my lifestyle. Such as the fact each article of clothing I own required its own suitcase (one suitcase of shoes, one of coats, etc.) And liking big houses and space. At Yosemite, there was this lookout-- Glacier Point-- where you can see the 'Eastern Valley', and I looked out, and instead of this fantastic forest with the rocks and all, I saw HIGHWAYS in-between GROVES. Not Forests. Groves of trees. and I went to www.ishmael.org and joined the Boston group and read about the EcoRaw tribal 5-day camping thing... I'd never understood vegans before, or even wanted to, but it made so much sense. I even experienced the feeling of WANTING to go to Eugene, Oregon and take part. When my parents said they were considering going to Singapore, it dawned on me that this was the kind of freedom from paranoia that I wanted... I could go to Oregon or Seattle or... Amsterdam... (YEAH) if I wanted. Or to Pride in Boston or DC.. Money, money would be needed. But I'm hoping to play my cards right and find a way to be west coast again next summer. Nevermind the fear of flying... So yes, I leave tomorrow. Said goodybe to Sandra and Grandma. Saw Camp. Ate my last Chipotle. Took the metro. Ate a Chesapeake Bagel Bakery sandwich. Got Brenner's cookies for the girls on Monday. Drove thru Old Town with mom one 'last time'. See, I'm jaded about this. Too used to camp. There's no one last ANYTHING, because eventually, you're always going back. And I will always be able to cite Ethan as an example of that. Or Derech Eretz. Flashbacks, friends. Nostalgia. Materialism. Found this great anthology at my Grandmother's house-- a 5th edition Introduction to Literature.. that I guess my uncle used at UVa. This textbook is INCREDIBLE.. it even has a poem by Fehrlinghetti:'Constantly risking absurdity'Constantly risking absurdityand deathwhenever he performsabove the headsof his audiencethe poet like an acrobatclimbs on rimeto a high wire of his own makingand balancing on eyebeamsabove a sea of facespaces his wayto the other side of dayperforming entrechatsand sleight-of-foot tricksand other high theatricsand all without mistakinganythingfor what it may not beFor he's the super realistwho must perforce perceivetaut truthbefore the taking of each stance or stepin his supposed advancetoward that still higher perchwhere Beauty stands and waitswith gravityto start her death-defying leapAnd hea little charleychaplin manwho may or may not catchher fair eternal formspreadeagled in the empty airof existence~*~Until... Monday/Tuesday...

Musing Around

Well, I'm pretty quiet tonight after getting back from LAST night with Sandra (till parents weekend... oct 31st). We saw CAMP, and she gave me my grad party gift. Currently, 2 things are on my mind *from a cultural standpoint*:CAMP, and Story of B.CAMP: was filmed at Stagedoor Manor, and it was this un-fuzzy yet VERY superficial movie about drama-y kids. And not even the pierced/pissed ones. It was so weird-- the movie had qualms with who it wanted to focus on (or the plot did. whatever.) There was VLAD, the Risto-esque OCD prozac junkie. Risto-esque meaning blonde/jocke-ish/looks perfect on the outside. And there was MIKE, the biracial gay drag queen... who had a huge crush on VLAD. Now, you would think an indie movie about a drama camp would not focus on an aryan poster boy. I'm having issues with it for that very reason. So much about the movie was unresolved. When I first saw the trailer, I assumed it was a queer flick, not even associating CAMP with, well, camp... shows you how far away my mind is...

CDs of the Summer

Inspired by getupkids' entry about DC v BE, I decided to do a little music musing of my own. The following is a non-chronological (logical by genre) listing of the cds I have purchased since graduating high school:1. Carole King ~ Tapestry (purchased after catching a random 4am showing of Slums of Beverly Hills on AMC and hearing *Natasha Lyonne* tell Marisa Tomei that she had the new Carole King album. I'd been ping-ponging the idea for a few years, so it was time. And it was an awesome purchase. A cross between Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins.)2. Leonard Cohen ~ The Best Of (haven't listened to this cd THAT much yet, but I like Judy's rendition of Suzanne better.)3. The Sundays ~ Blind (sweet folkrock. There's even a baby on the album cover. VERY mellow. It's in my case between Lisa Loeb and Joan Osborne. Take of that what you will.)4. The Children's Hour ~ SOS JFK (FOLK. With the la las and the repetitive and the lyrical. Listen to at risk of wanting to crochet something.) 5. Owl and the Pussycat ~ self titled (A must for fans of Elliott Smith and KRS. Hurray for modern mellow. Although the person who suggested O & P also suggested Modest Mouse. And that cd was a disaster. Apparently, the other MM cds are better. But THIS cd was a sound investment. No pun intended.)6. Belle and Sebastian~ Lazy Line Painter Jane (maybe I was nonplussed because I already had the other B&S staples. There are many good songs on the three CDs, but I'd really push someone in the direction of *Fold your Hands, Child* or *If You're Feeling Sinister* before this set. Unless you have a fetish for 4 track LPS.) 7. The New Pornographers ~ Electric Version (YAY for pop sensibility. Note: pop here does NOT refer to your run of the mill MTVness. This pop just means pep. It's not quiet ambiance music by any means, but it's crucial.)8. The Smiths ~ Best..I (Buy Best II. Nuff said.)9. The Flaming Lips ~ The Soft Bulletin (SO incredible. May even be more incredible than Yoshimi. Not overrated at all.)10. Yo La Tengo ~ And then nothing turned itself inside out (Techno/Ambient/SLOW sensibilities. The guy at Cutler's told me to buy it... he said he listened to it for about 6 months when he was depressed. I can't pass judgement on it yet.)11. Wilco ~ Yankee Foxtrot Hotel (BUY THIS CD. It's not country, folk, rock, metal, techno.... it's just brilliant. Possibility the best CD I own. Easily in the top 5 CDs I bought this summer.) 12. Britta Phillips & Dean Wareham ~ L'Avventura (think Lou Reed's voice with sparkles, singing ditty lovesongs. It works.)13. Radiohead ~ Hail to the Thief (also in the top 5. Hail to the Thief and OK Computer are very similar, especially on a quality basis. I don't own Bends or Pablo Honey so I don't know how they compare.)14. Band of Bees ~ Sunlight Hit Me (very fun miscellany. Buy it if you like Beta Band, Soul Coughing, or Cornershop. Or other bands that fall under the miscellaneous/progressive genre... I'd lump Radiohead, Air, and Bjork there, too.)15. The Shins ~ Oh Inverted World (geek Rawk. Sounds like Fountains of Wayne/Ben Kweller/Supergrass/Ben Folds Five.)16. The Postal Service ~ Give Up (lyrical geek rawk. with a tech edge.)17. Weezer ~ the blue album (waited a very long time to get this album. The wait was worth it. Also in the top Five.)18. Arap Strap ~ Monday at the Hug & Pint (Bright Eyes sound-alike, and Conor Oberst is credited on this album. Name came from B & S, though. Proceed with caution.)19. Interpol ~ Turn on the Bright Lights (lump this with Cure, Psychedelic Furs, and Pulp. I should. But there's also this 'emo' sentiment. Altogether makes me think of the 80s. But not in a BAD way.)20. Bright Eyes ~ Lifted (first thought it was Music to Die By, but on further listening, decided not to get rid of it. It stares at me from the back of my CD case, daring me to try and get over the fact that Oberst can't sing.)21. Henry Miller Memorial Library Slam (YAY for SLAM)22. Counting Crows ~ August and Everything After (the jury's still out on whether *Recovering the Satellites* is better. This is a good album.)Any input? Think buying 22 CDs in the course of 9 weeks is a sick, sick thing?Well................

"triumphant" return to the real world

The big return from California today. I can honestly say that was an excellent vacation. Excellent in the sense that it wasn't relaxing at all, and we did so much... overcompensating for the sloth that was this summer, I guess :grin: no... no... we just WENT places and SAW nature. I never see nature. Trees are great...just perfect. If ever I decide to give up and become an introvert, I hope to be reincarnated as a tree. Which brings me to a low point: I am rapidly becoming paranoid that I am wishy-washy. The alarm was the Monterey Slam.... in the past year, I've experienced an amazing lack of focus. Now there were many different circumstances leading up to the lack in my performance... I'd just written the poem that day, hadn't performed since June, did it spontaneously (have hardly done anything spontaneous this summer, despite popular belief). I don't know how to hold a microphone. This is a much-needed skill. And of course, my father was there in the front row. And nothing is good enough for my father. I don't like giving compliments much... I like to think that my standards are so high that very few could reach it, and simultaneously I fear seeming insincere. My father is VERY insincere. The tipping point may have been in April when JnJ met my dad at Penn Station and told me afterwards "He was horrible-- I don't know how you could stand it. He doesn't listen to what anyone else says." It made me mad at J but also re-think my father. I've had serious issues with the guy since... oh... 7th grade? Partially because he's out of touch with the real world and partially because he has no interest in touching base. When you have two parents who are like yin and yang living together in the same house, it's SO MUCH EASIER to just side with the way one of them lives than try to create your own ideology in the middle. Then, stuff begins to change:Obviously, I'm going to college in a week. Not so obviously, my parents are considering a move to Singapore. I feel very strange about this, but liberated, in a way. In 'honor' of the topic, I got a laptop. As much as I want to be my own person, I like having someone whose approval I can seek out. That will be different without a mother in the same country, though it was different this summer because I was out of the house so much and not on my parents' billfold. But the slam, and the ensuing paranoia:Everything I do is unfocused. My walking is not focused. My music taste is not focused. My parking is crooked. I am unable to draw/cut/measure in a straight line. Sitting there, listening to the other slammers' incredibly succinct lines, then later listening to the HMML recording, I realize that I'm definitely NOT where I need to be. Why is it so difficult for me to write on-topic for 3 minutes?? True, I used to hate this concept of focus, outlining, order. I like making connections. But not the shortest distance from A to B. Junior year, I really liked the idea that I disliked conclusions. Now I'm realizing what a major error that is/was. I want to be good at writing.... to prove that yeah, that's my shtick. I also want to do many other things, but I don't want to end up as one of those just-journalers. Looking forward to scoping the scene in Cambridge and hopefully find a mentor of some sort. Getting published would rule. The other night when I couldn't sleep (prior to California), I reread the signatures in my yearbook... they were all re-iterations of the same thing, encouraging me to go on with my writing, and all the other nice intimate familiarities of yearbookness. But it's an added pressure. I want to rise above and show these people that I AM good enough. I don't know where I want my art to go, but it's irritating that my mom doesn't want me to take my portfolio to college and my dad tries to give me editing advice about my poetry. Yes, I am going to a women's college to get away from men. Specifically, the men in my family. They're grumpy selfish curmudgeons, and... it's just.... messed up. Maybe the 100% female ratio will be messed up, too. Maybe I'll transfer to Columbia and do the dual C/JTS program. Probably not, probably I'll stick it out. I like Wellesley a lot. Especially the idea of it, and the solidarity. One week to go, then past the point of no return.

Choking my chicken (At the rubber chicken poetry slam)

Hello from California! (sunny albeit chilly, as I've been telling everyone this whole stint). This family vacance has been a very nice one although not SO dynamic. Or.. well.. maybe suburbia and subpar hotels are not for me. I like being wined and dined in Manhattan at the Rihga Royale, Michelangelo, Sheraton... and I'll EVEN admit it. Anyway, I could go thru a laundry list of things I've done and seen (which I'll do at a later time, of course. As Proust dictates, everything is better in Retrospect.) Just a few to whet the palate: met a Wellesley sister (Tammy!) and hung around San Jose, saw Aida, went to San Francisco MOCA.. ate some Dim Sum. And oh, my friends, how the list doth go on. But the COOLEST.. HIPPEST...MOST INCREDIBLE thing happened today. We visited Big Sur, California. And I know you're thinking one of two things:a. what the he-y is that?b. what the he-y is that and why should I give a flying...?Ok. Henry Miller Memorial Library. AKA Hippies. AKA POETRY SLAM in Monterey California. (Poetry Slam being operative phrase). Which brings me to the Rubber Chicken Poetry Slam, suggested by the guy -Ted- who ran the HMML. This is something to add to my resume as my first COMMUNITY poetry slam (ie without my peers or anyone really backing me.). It's also REALLY important, because it marks my first (and only?) poem of the summer. Or, I might have written a couple earlier on, but this COUNTS as a real Ashira slammable poem. Needs some refining, but here you go:I don't un-der-stand the tricks we trade for T-shirts stamped with the namesof our FAVOURITE localesmiles of coasters or shotglasses TAMPAX? imprinted with Tourism comma EVERYWHERE comma I...was....heredot DOT dotI like to send postcards-----> NO no, I like to WRITE postcardsand leave them in post offices without stampswhen You receive those 'I'm thinking of you' cardsdon't you wonder what they're thinking ABOUT you?It's safer to leave the address bookAt Homeon vacationtoo much TheraPEYOOTIC time to think about TRANSITIONS about leaving about suitcases full of folded socks and DEPO camerasI'd like to remain in transitionin remission of a stationon..... a...... rollI SAW Santa Cruz seagulls sailing overNorth Carolinianswith California license platesand I---- took MY watch OFF when I switched timezonesI'd like to remain in transitionin remissionof a stationon.... a.... roll...~*~

I guess your...

I guess your friends aren't the people who make you want to cry. Maybe that's the one lesson I missed in kindergarten. The last poetic thought of this summer was the idea of art kids kissing. Because I love art kids. Any gender, age, but especially those in their mid twenties who look ageless and lithe. Hence KIDS. You never see them kissing, though. Just standing side by side, half leaning into each other as though with cracked ribs... over-dramatized because artkids don't listen to mosh music. It's going to get really odd if I actually become friends with nice people in college. No angst. No hate-writing to hide from people ( and not-so-secretly send them in 20 years in coffin-shaped boxes). I think it's going to happen, though. I'm getting very far from all the people who've.. hurt me.. for lack of a better word..which I think is an element of fate.. you're fated to be with people who make similar choices/are similar people to you. I'm trying to conceive of the next BIG thing. And it's a hazy picture with dimmed lights and TV screens showing girls in bright colors and sparkly eyeshadows. And vegetarian food. Next up? California and the search for a patch to add to my new messenger bag.

1:34 thereabouts

This is me pretending to clean my room. This is me realizing my fascination with writing, art, and queer identity testimonials. I'm listening to Nick Drake's alt.country track, wishing I had my remote. PILES. EVERYWHERE. California in... 3 days? 2 days? Wellesley in... fewer (than before). I'm looking up at my MOMA posters when Pink Moon begins. I think I like car commercials. "Who was your first girlfriend?""You were"Things you know about should always be fictional. Things you know nothing about should be autobiographical. That doesn't change facts.Black. Eyed Dog.Gene Robertson got the vote for bishop. I remember playing JENGA with Gene and Mark when I was 6 years old at their house in Concord (or near it... unless Concord is very forest-y.. I remember the house as being surrounded by trees. Very Oakton, Great Falls..) I remember sleeping in Gene's daughter's room..the little sticker stars that glowed in the dark. I tried to stay awake until the stars faded out. Lofty ambition for a first grader. 7th grade..buying 5 stars in Old Towne and balancing with L on my trundle bed sticking them on my ceiling. I took them down...junior year? Sophomore year?I like taking pictures of people's rooms. Haven't done that enough. Gregg Araki does some of that in Nowhere. This room is really only mine for another 12 days, since I'll be in CA for 10 days. Maybe it's less than 12 days. I don't want to throw this stuff away.. (cont later

Trust Metric (I don't get it, but okay)

TrustFlow trust metricCreated by ciphergoth, see trustmetrics for details. Closest 50 non-Friends for shirash:1: tatufans, 2: cristine, 3: mmb2, 4: nickthestripper, 5: tareopti, 6: theschimmel, 7: uglyflowers, 8: the_bishop, 9: bohemianpoetry, 10: borednow, 11: sostoked, 12: jcrewgoose, 13: joannabanana139, 14: jrc520, 15: peoplesyak, 16: riny, 17: thegayone, 18: assuckattheprom, 19: dylanboiwonder, 20: mortality, 21: northern_va, 22: rliz, 23: rubyfruitjungle, 24: transgender, 25: webster_wotd, 26: riot_grrls, 27: beantownkids, 28: goldennemesis, 29: sky_on_fire, 30: annierose, 31: crombie7xk, 32: faeries, 33: gaystr8alliance, 34: juniperivy, 35: nellishness, 36: personofnolabel, 37: righteousbabes, 38: supergirl2355, 39: tegan_and_sara, 40: umavaruna, 41: boston_photos, 42: cinnamonapple, 43: averseortwo, 44: ann_septimus, 45: apfrost, 46: atro_city, 47: charyt_vohehmee, 48: haupt052535, 49: jacram37, 50: metaquotesPlease comment in my journal on how you found this tool and what you think of it - thanks!LiveJournal username:

hang the dj

I want you to apologize for being realistic and feel guilty about your inhibitions. This whole wanting to trust people in college thing is a bigger deal than I've been articulating thusfar. Flashbacks of 7th grade ... 10 oclock, writing bad poetry and wanting to be hugged and understood .... or something. Apparently I'm a nice person. Supposedly. A lot of things come to me in the shower. Like the fact I always used to think people who liked me should be in pain. Something that's been in the back of my mind this whole year is trying to figure out the definition of a friend. I think I defined the definition of sig other for weetzieluv, but friend... still in the fog on that one. I guess because I've mixed all that up quite a bit in the recent months/days/weeks... what have you. I guess a friend is someone who's friends with you for no other reason than they enjoy you and... well, you enjoy each other. In a platonic sense. We'll see how long that definition lasts.

drizzle and steak

So, it's Sunday. I just love how I'm expected to deal. To just stretch out to utter rubber bandwith and re-align. THANK you T, D, E, J, and S. If this is growing up, please hand back the doily socks and patent leather shoes. I mean, sure, I did it to myself this summer. And no, I wasn't traumatized like I've believed I was after every other summer (well, especially last summer... being burnt twice AND being told that people don't understand your writing really doesn't help one feel comfortable, happy, or large-ego'd). Also known as Young Writer's Workshop. It's awfully nice to go somewhere and hear what a cool/nice/unique person you are for three weeks straight. Perhaps this is why I was the one who organized Pilgrimmage this year. To prove that there's no change. These people will still consider me one of them. Even when I've supposedly sworn off writing, sworn off girls, sworn off Virginia. For one day, I'm supposed to forget JnJ and Liz and Alexis and Great Barrington. Maybe it's the fact that it's 12:30 and I made Sara a mixtape last night till 3am. Maybe it's T suggesting all this innuendo. And telling me to get over myself. Wow. That's not cool. I guess we're not supposed to take online journals seriously. Hillary brought it up, the whole "exhibitionist" factor. It's a Sunday. And I feel used. As stated before, it's been a LONG week. Obviously, it's a self-fulfilling proclamation: one claims no relationship, one feels alone. Done, and done. Don't mix tea and tongues.

Mr. Henshaw revisited

**This idea of writing letters and never sending them... is interesting/frustrating. Story: There is a VERY cool record store in Old Towne Alex, and one night, I 'ran away' and spent about an hour there, the only person in the store, getting ideas for nu music from the owner (also named Jonathan. I think I live in a Jonathan world. Have never DATED a jonathan. No, that jonathan doesn't count. Maybe I should).He came up with this CD Song Cyclops by The Doleful Lions. In the liner notes, instead of having lyrics, the band listed its email address. So I sent an email. And Jonathan, the singer, responded. He told me I should write him again. Instead, I wrote a respone into Word Perfect. Now, it's here. **Dear Jonathan, I'm writing you this letter for a few reasons. You are a jonathan, and jonathans thus far have been good to me in my life--so even though I don't know you, you are a de-facto good person to write a letter to. Second: I get some sort of mileage out of writing deeply sincere letters to random acquaintances. I do this because I like strangers better than friends, because I like to perform, and because I like to share. Also, you gave me the link to that site that talked about the music you listen to... and the fact that you listen to bands like Slayer and Black Sabbath yet write music that's a cross between Belle and Sebastian and... something 70sretro-y...intrigues me. I never contact musicians I like. Or artists. Or whoever. I went to a Richie Havens concert last year (at The Birchmere) and this guy at the table had collected tabs from every Havens show he'd been to... he sat there the whole time yelling stuff like "we love you, brother" and just waiting to slip his burly arm across the stage after "His Eminence" had left so as to grab another tab for the collection. He commented to my friends and I that he enjoyed the title of ‘roadie/groupie.'I hate that. I hate that so many fans assume that because the music has become their own personal soundtrack, that they take it a step up, assume that a musician has somehow lived their life or watched over them. My favorite painting (or in the top 5) is Picasso's *Girl with a mirror*. I bought a print of it which hangs above the head of my bed. It has been there for maybe a year now. It has enriched my living experience. I love it/it intrigues me. I nurture no believe that it loves me back. I just finished reading an issue of Adbusters. Adbusters puts me in these moods, and I apologize for subjecting you to it... however you said you wanted me to write to you again.. if you just want me to write to you and tell you over and over how much I enjoy your music, I can do that because I do enjoy it... but I'm not too much of a worshipper. I do want to buy your new CD, however, but NOW doesn't sell it. Who does, or how should I go about ordering? I bought the werewolves/rats CD... and it wasn't close enough. Not bad, but no Song Cyclops. But yeah, Adbusters. I feel it's sort of salvationist propaganda which I try not to let interfere with my life too much.. .I try not to be too political, mainly because I think politics are very futile, and it is only the politics of relationships that remain controllable/interesting. When you read something heavy on a long drive, it's only a logical progression that you will spend the next however-many-hours-till you get home thinking about it. And in my case, wanting to write about it. I call Adbusters salvationIST because it lays all these heady issues on the table, provides information which supports its side (the uber-liberal side, I'm guessing) so that you will be informed, and then proposes ways of culturejamming, coming together to mess with the system, little solidarity movements like Buy Nothing Day and TV FREE week. Mad Pride. And there are allusions to a revolution alongside talk of a techno-reigning age. I wonder about the apocalypse, and it pisses me off. Magazines aren't supposed to bring you to this. Like *The Tale of Young Werther* wasn't supposed to cause readers to jump off bridges in mass numbers. Or Marilyn Manson's music wasn't supposed to cause homicides. Art is introspective and/or retrospective and is supposed to cause people to react as such. Art doesn't pull triggers, it's just the products of multiple mind-purges over the years. I entertain passing thoughts of writing a page-long letter to the magazine (like this one) describing my profile *suburbanite white girl, enjoys the idea of being cool/quasielitist, going off to costly preppy private school so she can pair vintage 40 dollar t-shirts with trendy faded jeans and write analytical essays about the Great Books* and ask what life they believe I should be leading. To say "I'm trying to curb my consumption while still loving which I love-- which is art. Which makes me relatively materialistic. Which I think according to you is a bad thing. But I love loving the world and loving people and the things they make. I love dissecting the little things, over-thinking them and listening to people and being frustrated and shopping and repeating this in cycles lasting months into years." We're supposed to be miserable.. We're supposed to be not-obese but not exercising and being productive without being consumers and not doing everything they want us to.. It's the same evangelism, isn't it? Just a different package...I'm not sure what I want to write about this summer.. Or who I want to be, really. I had these ideas of all the things I'd like to change about myself for college.. But none of them seem very important right now. Books I think I SHOULD read. The thought strikes me that you're always supposed to have things you SHOULD do... but that you never ACTUALLY do... guilt can be very lucrative.

Adventures without clothes

So they want me to go to RHPS. Rocky Horror is of cultural importance, not to LIKE but to KNOW OF. I don't really LIKE the idea of outfitting library girls in my clothes and shoving off with them.. spectaclizing myself so they can spectate from back rows. .Giggling. No, giggling does NOT do it for me. Throw yourself and smile. That works slightly better. I'm wondering what the combat booted attitude would be. Probably just a TAKE IT sort of thing... I found some old friends on this thing.. why does Caroline have perfect lips. SERIOUSLY, she does. Perfect lips and kind eyes. These are my "luck-friends".(I'm fillin her up right quick)Friday is in DIRE need of a dynamic.

post-City withdrawal symptoms

I was all prepared to write a long angry post about cancelling plans and food and humidity and rain.... but then egg drop soup and dumplings sedated me. I guess all that can be said right now is that I'm full of new Wellesley people to know, chit-chat... I'm starting to wonder a little bit about whether it was a bit of overkill, hyping it up, but I really do like the people I've met, and as my Wellesley anxiety is kicking in, I'm finding it hard to justify.. I guess I fear the awkwardness that ensues. I fear the idea that a majority of these people will be silent in person. That's why I'm trying to talk to people on the phone. I know I'm going to be hopped up on day one... it'll be weird that my parents will be there for the whole day..

Last Day of July

Well, my S.A. will be done by this time tomorrow. It will be interesting to look back at things once I'm under my new blue-striped comforter at Wellesley. I wonder if I'll be able to remember this summer immediately, since it wasn't bunched and strained like most. no MAJOR drama. no workload whatsoever. Just the concept of hanging out, blowing money, seeing people, making plans. Almost a paradox to the last 6-7 years. A few fascinating things:1. (http://www.humanmetrics.com) <-- Switched from ENFP to ENFJ. All it means is that I've been organized lately. I was intrigued... I live in quasi-fear of my personality drastically changing on me, or not being able to keep it up. I guess after Simon's Rock, it wasn't such a huge fear anymore, but the whole concept of maintaining relations and/or changing them... weirds me out. I LIKE ultimatums and provocations. Being chill isn't actually appealing. Why would someone want to be at peace with the world?? The whole concept is the reaction... therein lies the art.2. (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/wellesley07/) We're up to 75 members, with approx 25 days to go till we get there. Many different locales. Perhaps not as personal as I would like, but it's been fun recruiting people and hearing snippets of different soliloquays, either about school or about home.It feels nice. 3. (http://www.picturetrail.com/llrt) Molly was talking about having pictures online, and when she linked me to a picturetrail site, I figured I'd check... just to see it gone. But no, it was still there. Everyone's so GONE. I've gotten to "antique" it now. 1999 was apparently a long time ago. 4. (http://www.chipotle.com) Battling....addiction....to... gourmet....burritos.....Actually, I only ate 2/3 of one today. That means I'll be ready to go by Aug 24th. This is good. This is healthy. Kick the codependance. So yes, my summer is ending. I'm starting this at the end. Beginning with an epilogue. The possibilities are endless....

FIRST ENTRY

Thanks to Ilyzibyth for the buzz. Now let's see if I can get this thing to work... So, what to say?My name's Ashira, I'm from Northern VA (near DC)..I'm going to be a Wellesley FY come August 25th... quasi-counting down the days. Helped start and bring life to an email list for the college. I'll have more interesting things to say in a few months aka when I'm there, especially about my summer in retrospect. Because by then I'll be able to mention people's names.