e_clare | Entries tagged with silver st.

Midwesterners congregate in New York City.

All right, so they don't congregate exactly. There's no organized gathering of Buckeyes and Hoosiers (at least not to my knowledge). But we do seem to find each other in unexpected places. At Kloss & Peter's house-warming party this weekend, I met two Oberlin grads and several IU kids, including one who grew up in Dayton. Yup.

Coincidences aside, the evening as a whole was essentially the best of the Silver Street parties, transplanted to Astoria. There was so. much. dancing. And we all stayed up way too late - not until sunrise, fortunately, and there wasn't a softball field for 3am frolicking this time, but it was still fantastic. Until we had to wake up and Do Things, and then I was so very tired and a very little bit hungover all day, on top of which it rained buckets in the city, and that's never fun.

However, buckets of rain do allow you to squish together beneath shared umbrellas, and there's something to be said for that. *halo!*

( old news )

In more recent news, I made it to Connecticut safe and sound, losing my way relatively few times and successfully navigating my way out of New York City and back onto the interstate. Fun moments on the drive included:

Politics in southern Ohio: spotting two giant pro-Strickland yard signs, and zero pro-Blackwell-for-Governor signs.
"Hi, Dad? I know you said that I would just reconnect with I-95, but I don't think I'm supposed to be going back into Pennsylvania..."
Singing along to the iPod really, really loudly -- not something one can really do on public transportation.
Gas prices steadily rose as I moved East...until I hit New Jersey, where I found gas inexplicably 10 cents cheaper than in Maryland.
Subsisting only on coffee for all of Monday -- this gave me the strength and force of will to drive like a maniac through New York and southern Connecticut.
"Dad? I shouldn't be in the Bronx, right?"

Today I managed to unpack almost everything seeing as I don't have any desk drawers, the stuff I generally file in the junk drawer is proving difficult to place), and finish a book. I can mooch internet access from the neighbors, I still have two more books, and I should really be getting to bed.

My thesis looks so official in its black binder...but somehow, it also seems smaller. The official library copy is, at this moment, being printed on its high quality archival paper. I can't even say how happy I am to finally be finishing, and putting this thing to bed. (Sorry, Mom: I think that means no go on turning it into a book.)

The remaining Silver Street roommates spent the past week in a little cottage in the woods near Epping, New Hampshire. Instead of going somewhere exotic in our Senior Week, such as Puerto Rico or Florida or a similar beachy destination, we went to the woods, where we could sleep, read trashy magazines, and play card games in peace. (Go on, show of hands: who's jealous?) The weather wasn't perfect -- it was pretty chilly for May -- but we didn't mind.

...

Continued later: We're facing possible rain for Laurel Parade tomorrow. Hopefully, it won't be too bad. Getting up at the crack of dawn is hard enough without also being bedraggled, wet, and embarassingly transparent at that hour. (600 white-clad seniors + rain = unhappiness all around.) Fingers crossed!

I made a really excellent doing-homework mix. It's so excellent that it actually distracts me from doing said homework. Fantastic.

This is the Song of the Moment in our house, but it is not on my homework mix. This should be remedied.

I came home to nap after lunch because I figured I would fall asleep in the library and not be productive. The 2 hour nap was not really productive, either.

My finals are actually not that bad -- just two 10-15 page papers, one of which has a thorough outline with comments, the other which is being ~~not~~ written as we speak. However, because I'm leaving on Monday, they will be a pain in the ass to finish.

I'm still too pleased about finishing Ulysses to actually start the Joyce outline. The last chapter is really, really good, y'all. I've written an awful lot in my life about Tom Stoppard's Travesties, and I'm afraid I'm ready to be done with it for the moment...so the grand plan of tying both papers to my thesis is kind of failing.

There is a message in 6-foot-tall letters written in the snow outside my house: "Hey Westover, We're Single," with a giant arrow pointing to the house. We're so classy. (Westover is the nearby military base, which frequently sends low-flying planes over campus.)

The internet is endlessly fascinating, part #876: The Year in Media Corrections.

newredshoes is writing devastating Cedric Diggory fic. And adorable Viktor Krum fic. And I can't stop reading.

olivia_circe's way-cool final paper is on meta commentary in fandom. She's looking for links to essays. Related:

metablog is also endlessly fascinating.

Miracle of miracles, I've stayed off of The Facebook. Today.

All six housemates were home for dinner, and we spent two hours talking about absolutely nothing because nobody wanted to work.

I changed my layout colors. Again.

*sigh*

I'm at work! (How long it's been since I could say that!) Yes, yes, I'm writing mostly just because I can. I'm in Chapin until 1:30, babysitting the Korean Student Association's winter formal. My other options for distraction are drunken people dancing in formal wear, and Ulysses -- need I say more?

I also worked a Christian rock concert in the campus center earlier this evening. That was...interesting...considering my usual relationship with religious pop music of any kind consists mostly of mocking. The good news is, the original songs had decent melodies and the bass player had a surprisingly awesome voice. And I had Ulysses, so I could focus on that and try to tune out the band. The low point was a song with the refrain "lamb/lamb of heaven," to which I just had to add baaaaaa.

I'm so going to hell.

Anyway. The countdown to the end of the semester has begun and wow, do I have a lot to do by December 19th. It'll all get done -- it always does -- as long as I keep myself interested in the final papers, both of which I've connected to my thesis work, I should be fine. I get to write about vampires! And Ulysses. Woo. :)

Victorian Lit: Double lives and identity in Dracula and Dorian Gray.
Joyce: The influence of Travesties (Stoppard, 1974) on my reading of Ulysses.

Also, we have a Suzuki performance on Wednesday. This will also be interesting, as the chorus (of which I was today made Leader, w00t) has some trouble acting in unison. But y'know. It'll all come together somehow.

[ACK! Balloons popping make scary noises.]

OK. Stephen Dedalus is calling my name...I can make it the next 45 minutes, right?

ETA 2:10 AM: ~~No one's awake at the house, but there's a mystery guest on the living room sofa. Oh, the excitement just never ends.~~ Or the doors were shut just because the TV is loud. Sometimes I make things up, and imagine they're way more interesting than they actually are.

Current Mood: surprisingly chipper
Current Music: all the current hip-hop hits you can handle

New House Rules for Silver Street Parties

1. Puking in the house is strictly forbidden.
1a. As is bleeding.

2. Drinks are to be mixed in a shaker or directly in the glass -- no buckets.

3. Sleeping arrangements will be determined before the guest(s) arrive, especially if they're coming from off-campus.
3a. With one or two contingency spots reserved for friends who over-indulge.

4. Beer pong facilities will not be provided.

5. If Public Safety is called, underage guests will relocate to a non-alcoholic party zone in the other apartment.

6. Off-limits beverages should be kept out of sight, ideally in a cupboard or closet; leaving them in the other, open apartment is not enough.

( cue ranting )

Anyway, in other news: I need to keep reading, but I'm caught up on Ulysses after two weeks of being seriously behind. I am proud. And this week, I get to start writing the thesis. Woo-hoo!

Paper-writing party in the Silver Street living room, aw yeah.

(All neat and tidy and de-feathered after last night, thanks to the hot-ass shop vac from upstairs. w00t.)

I'm working on a paper that's due Tuesday. I did virtually zero work this weekend, which is totally going to bite me as of tomorrow morning. I have a meeting with a professor to discuss my Joyce paper (...not started, no, and not going to be because I don't know what to do about it, although that might be a bad idea). But I'd rather work on the Victorian Lit, because I'm kind of proud to be working on a paper that's not due within 24 hours of my writing it, you know?

Tangentially, I'm sorry that I can't write about anything non-academic these days. Unfortunately, there's just not that much else going on that's exciting. I still love my thesis, I still don't really like James Joyce; Intermediate Badminton starts tomorrow and I'm quite pleased ('cause when it's done, I'll be finished forever with distribution requirements); our living room got decorated yesterday when no homework was getting done...and so on.

The negative stuff (there's not a lot of it, happily) is just whining, which it's not necessary to go into. Some day soon, maybe I'll start doing entries that are actually about specific topics rather than just me blathering randomly about everything.

As a first-year, I donned black pants and a strappy tank top, and joined my fellow firsties in crazy fun dancing in Chapin. (I was totally sober, they were probably not.) I had a good time, but felt that it didn't really live up to its reputation -- as far as I could tell, it was just a bigger version of every other dance party ever. Meh.

I have no memory of sophomore year Vegas Night, except for one image of the Christmas lights. I assume that I went with banannagoats and Roommate Ryan, and maybe other Cellar Dwellers and/or krikkit911...I think we went dancing, and made an early night of it. Declined to check out the gambling in newly-renovated Blanchard due to limited time -- dancing is always the priority.

Last year, I was enjoying my fall break in England. No Vegas-ness there, although there was quality time with MoHos.

Senior year? Senior year was gooood. Alcohol really does make it better. ( And other things do, too )

The other highlight of the weekend was the re-appearance of the Hampshire Hat Boy. As we passed him on the way to brunch, I helpfully (and subtly) yelled, "Goats, Goats: HAT!" (Costume included a bow-tie and a gray fedora, for those curious.) He totally heard -- go me.

Christ, what a weekend.

All in all, it was a good break. I was impressively productive, for me, homework-wise...and there was also a great deal of movie-watching, cooking, and sitting around.

The house being mostly empty was quite weird, though. You don't realize how accustomed you are to having everyone around -- but when they're not there? The Upstairs dwellers all left town, as did

krikkit911; it was just me and

banannagoats and her high school bud Steph -- and those two spent all day Sunday at a regatta. I stopped multiple times in the middle of cooking, wanting to run upstairs and grab utensils or ask questions.

I also realized the major thing that's bugged me about the house/mates recently. ( epiphany? )

In conclusion: we need to have Housemate Dates. And I need to cut way back on the movies. Duly noted.

Dear self:

It is 8:50 AM on a Sunday morning. Why exactly am I awake? Do I really need to finish reading Joyce's "The Dead" that desperately?

*sigh*

Fine. I'm up. But we're not doing this again next weekend.

Love, me.

In other news, I'm actually doing quite well. I spent the first full week of classes in a panic about taking too many, but a conversation with The Amazing Lois Brown put me back on the right track. I'm almost finished with Dubliners, almost finished with Jane Eyre, about to write up notes on Coast of Utopia, and nowhere near the end of the massive Wilde biography -- but it's good.

The house is really coming together, with the latest, most crucial addition of internet access. (That's right: I'm typing this from the comfort of my own bed! Yay wireless!) Once a Comcast password snafu was resolved, we spent a good two hours surfing the internet socially -- reading news stories, contributing celebrity gossip (mostly me), stealing each other's iTunes music, and watching trailers (again, mostly me). And we're baking, and cooking together, and just hanging out. It's wonderful.

And dammit, I was productive this weekend: I hauled my laundry across the soccer fields to Torrey yesterday, so now I have clean clothes. Brilliant!

Happy convocation day, MoHos and Smithies!

The convocation I remember from my first year was an absolutely crazy, debauched madhouse of an event. ( But she ain't what she used to be. )

I am so, so excited about this year. I cannot even tell you. Remind me of this in a few weeks, yeah? I'm afraid it'll wear off fast.