You don't know what it's like being male, middle-class and white

Yesterday was a pretty good day. It started off rocky, though. I'd set up my first interview for my first story for Vox. I was to call the guy at 11 and chat about a summer concert series we're having here. I called him, and he wasn't there! I was upset. I had plans and errands to run, but I was afraid he'd call back at an inopportune time, so I sat around watching "Sister, Sister" while stealing glances at my phone. I was like a prepubescent boy. A flamboyant one. It was sad. 

But, finally he called. He told me to come to his office, so i quickly got dressed and dashed out. It was worth the wait. We chatted outside on a bench and at the end, I asked him if I could snag a free ticket to the Ben Folds show so I could interview people. He thought about it for a while (which I hope was a facade, but I also hope he was entranced by my sex appeal) and then he finally said "yes". I knew he would.

The concert was pretty great. It drizzled, but whatever. At my last newspaper gig, the demographic was mostly college kids, so that's who I interviewed. But this paper is for the whole community, so I scoped out that oldest people I could find. I looked like a major creeper, walking around, staring at people and muttering, "not old enough", "too old", "too creepy", "weird hair", "very sexy", and the like to myself. Fortunately I got great quotes and I was the first to turn in my article.

I did go to the show solo, but I don't care. I'm not self-conscious about things like that. It was a good time. He played most of the classics that I enjoy.

Today, I started working on a new story and it is tough! I can't find any sources and it's supposed to be like on a page of its own (presumably). I hope I can coerce someone into chatting.

I also went clothes shopping today so that I could get professional(ish) clothes. I got a sports bra so that I can exercise comfortably, and when I checked myself out in the mirror, I swear that I've never seen my boobs look so small. It was a weird experience, one that I didn't like. After I tried it on, I got re-dressed and left the dressing room. But something was wrong, I felt more free than I usually do, and I'm a fairly uninhibited person. I was almost to the checkout line when I realized what it was- I'd forgotten to put my own bra back on! I was hanging free. Awkward. Fortunately no one was in my dressing room when I went back to get it. Is that still a weird version of The Walk of Shame?

I'm excited, after all.

As it turns out, I think this summer will be fun. I got my first assignment for Vox. It's a preview for Summer Fest, which starts tomorrow but goes throughout the summer. A Ben Folds concert kicks it off and I'm working on snagging a press pass for it. I've seen him twice and it'd be nice to see him again.

Today Nathan, Catherine and I had dinner at Noodles and it was tasty. Afterwards we snagged some ice cream. During that, I discovered that Catherine didn't get to participate in the tradition of walking away from the columns when she graduated. Nate and I couldn't stand for that, so we walked over to the quad and cheered her on as she passed through. Nathan cheered very raucously for her. It was wonderful. I was both proud and sentimental.

Afterwards, we went to the top of a parking garage and flew a kite and chilled. Nathan rapped Ludacris' "Fantasy" without any background music. He knew all the words. It was quite impressive.

After that we went to Wal-Mart where we bounced some balls and looked at vibrating condoms. It was wonderful.

Being in the Vox office was fun. I feel official. It turns out that I know a few people who are working there and I made a new friend, so it's a good start. We've decided we're going to party together and I am stoked.

This summer seems promising.

Bed-hopping is inherited

I've decided to write a quick and quirky blog to balance out my previous post.

Last night I couldn't fall asleep. Try as I might, I just couldn't shut my brain off. So at like 11, I went into my mom's room and said, "mom, will you please come sleep with me? It's my last night." To which she responded, "sure, hop in," as she patted the empty space next to her.

Perhaps a polite person would have.

"No, I said you come to my room. Now, please."

"No Jess, i don't like your bed."

"But Mom, I'm your favorite and it's my last night, don't you want to spend it with me? Just tell me a story or lay there 'till I fall asleep or something, please?"

"Um, nope. We can do that here."

She was giving me a nice offer. All I had to do was grab my pillows and hop in. But I couldn't. I don't like sleeping in other people's beds. Sure, I'll hang out in other beds, but no sleeping. I need my pillows and my blanket and everything to be the way I want it. Other people can sleep in my bed though, maybe, depending on who said person is.  Apparently my mom's the same way too. She's had many a boyfriend sneak out in the morning. 

If I can hop in my car and go to my bed, rather than sleep in someone else's, I probably will. Of course I don't mind it if I'm on vacation, though. Anyway, I was mad at my mom's stubbornness. I even pouted, but she is immune to my sad face. So I went to bed alone.

I almost brought Brutus, my new dog, to my bed, but the last time he slept with me he talked in his sleep. He kept growling and shaking. I was afraid he'd wake up and attack me. I got no sleep with him. So I wasn't going down that road again.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to sleep with your mom.

That night, when I finally was about to doze off, I heard thudding, like someone was playing basketball in the front yard. I got pissed as hell. But, then I figured it was Tracy's boyfriend knocking on her window. As i was naked, I didn't get up to investigate.

I figured out that it was being clothed that kept me from sleeping. It was a tough decision to disrobe, as I was afraid that my mom would change her mind and come to my room. Luckily, I know that when her mind is made up, she doesn't change it.

So this morning, when I went to my car, I saw that someone had thrown eggs all over the house. They'd even thrown toilet-paper around. It was a very measly attempt though, really pathetic. They did a horrible job. The last people that attacked our house spray-painted "Tracy loves cock" in the driveway. I told mom to pour bleach on it to erase it, but it really just made the concrete whiter, thus highlighting the graffiti. These eggs paled in comparison.

I did notice that my car was wet and the hose was unraveled. I think they egged my car, felt guilty, and washed it.

When my mom came out she just said "this is sad and embarrassing. What a pathetic attempt. They can't even roll a house right."

Get me out of Columbia

I left BR this morning at 7:30 and arrived here at like 7:00 pm. It was a long drive and it rained most of the way, which was stressful. On top of that, all the radio stations kept talking about dead soldiers. I get that it's Memorial Day and necessary, but listening to it for almost 12 hours does nothing to perk a person up. So that may be why I'm in a funk.

When I pulled onto my street and parked at my building, all I felt was anti-climactic sadness. I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought my heart would flip and I'd burst into song, sort of like what happens when I arrive back in La. But no, I was just filled with despair. When I went into my apt, I realized I'd neglected to clean it before I left, so that also dampened my already low spirits.

I guess I'm afraid that this summer is going to be very boring. I feel that by coming back to Columbia I'm doing nothing with my life, like I'm on pause. But that's ridiculous, of course, since I'm going to COLLEGE at the #1 journalism school in the country; I got the beat I wanted (a magazine); I have a great internship with a top-rated literary journal; the strong majority of my friends will be in town too.

Really, I should be happy,  I should be ecstatic. Things seem to be working out for me. But, I just can't see it that way at the moment. I feel like I have unfinished business back in Baton Rouge that I should be attending to. I had a great final weekend there. A fun party with my friends, then a housewarming party, then a shopping trip, and a lot of quality time spent with my mom. So I should be happy that I left on a good note.

But I'm not like that. I'd rather leave on a bad note, so no one will miss me. I guess that's part of my narcissism (assuming my absence will devastate those who've ever come into contact with me). Normally, during my last few days, I subconsciously pick fights with my family, so that by the time I have to leave, they're ready for me to be gone. My dad says that's ridiculous and rude. He'd rather remember me as happy and jokey and whatever- not a mean douchebag. I can see his point.

But this time there was no fighting, it was a great goodbye. It all happened so fast. I threw my bags in the car, opened the car door, turned to say "bye" to my mom, and  as I was about to start crying it started pouring rain real hard, so my mom gave me a quick wave and ran inside, so as not to get soaked. This kept the sentimentality of the situation to a bare minimum, so I didn't cry, and this is a first. It was my sort of goodbye. I should be happy.

This is also the first summer that I'm not spending in Philly. I should be with my dad, working at WaWa, hanging with my Yankee friends, tanning on the Jersey shore, BBQing and just living it up. I love my dad a lot, and it sucks that I won't see him. Maybe he'll come see me. As he gets older and older, I feel more and more guilt for not spending time with him. But it's obviously not my fault- I'm in MO, he's in PA- but that doesn't really matter.

I've got a great set of friends here. They'd come to my rescue if/when I need it. I can't complain about that department. Ameena's come up with a great list of things the gang should do over the summer. Catherine and I plan on becoming regulars at some of the bars/concert venues. Alex is in town and the girl is so cool, i can't wait to hang with her. In fact, Nathan wanted me to come over tonight and hang, but I'm exhausted so I turned down the offer.

I blame this funk on the first paragraph of this post. 

I'll get my mojo back.

Farewell Baton Rouge, remember me fondly.

So, my mom originally wanted me to go back to school today, instead of tomorrow, just in case my teeth start hurting and I have to spend the night. But, as I was busy Friday and Saturday, I neglected my packing duties so I decided to stay in town one last day.

I'm sad to go back to school. I've had fun bonding with my mom and playing with my new pup. But at the same time, I'm ready to go back to the real world. I'm ready to write for Vox, a magazine, and intern at The Missouri Review, a literary journal. Though I really truly do love myself, I'm ready to hit the school's gym. Sports Illustrated named my school's Rec Center the best College Rec Center in America my freshman year, so it's pretty nice. That year, my dorm was literally right beside it and I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to use it. But this  summer I will.

It's been an okay time back at home. I spent most of it in bed being pampered while I recuperated, which is not a bad way to spend some time. Friday night, though, I hung out with my friends and that was pretty nice I guess. We played a drinking card game, sweated in a sauna, I gave out a phone number i don't use, and it was a fun night. I'd still much rather actually go out somewhere than stay in, but it was fine. 

As per one of my previous posts, I won't have any crying eyes seeing me go back to school, so there's not really anything tying me to Baton Rouge. I doubt my mom will even cry, but she's not that type. I'll be bawling my eyes out, but that's only because I'm bad and goodbyes and hate doing them.

I do think that leaving on Memorial Day may be a bad idea, though. I fear the cops will be on high alert for speeders, so I'll have to try to obey the law, which will be hard.

At least JFK wasn't shot.

Yesterday I went to Blockbuster to rent "Let The Right One In". I have yet to watch it, but I'm pretty excited about it. While I was there, I was eavesdropping on two girls who looked to be my age. Here's what I heard:

"Hey, who's Jack and Bobby?" Girl #1

"What?" Girl #2

"Like, what are they famous for?" 1

"They were politicians or something." 2

"Oh, were they related?" 1

"Yeah, they're cousins." 2. Not quite.

"Really, oh." 1. 

"Actually, I think they're brothers, yeah. One was president and one was shot." not quite right, sweetie. I really wanted to jump in and say something, but as I can't open my mouth wide, can't smile, and was swollen, they'd probably think I were Boo Radly, if they knew who he is.

"Yeah, one was rising in politics and people really liked him, but then he was shot. The other was a president." 2.

"Ah, thanks, I always wondered about that." 1.

I was so astonished! I was like oh my goodness. We were near the "Ts"in the alphabet, so I'm not sure what movie inspired their convo, but i really wanted to hand them a copy of "Bobby".

Buh-Bye Wisdom Teeth

I got my Wisdom Teeth taken out on Thursday. I was so nervous. I got there at 8:30 AM and made small chat with the nurse lady, which I disliked. Finally, the doctor came in and put an IV in my hand that numbed me. It didn't put me to sleep but it did make me unaware of my surroundings. I do remember breaking out into uncontrollable tears during part of it and I was very embarrassed, but the doctor said that was common.

I've just been lounging at home since then. I've been feeling ill and the Percocet made me puke, but I'm feeling a lot better now. It used to hurt to walk, but it's okay now. I'm still swollen but will hopefully be 100% fine soon.

My mom has been very mom-like during this whole ordeal. She's held my hand and stayed in bed with me. She even offered to skip work Friday to stay with me, but I told her not to. She's been surprisingly sweet and for that I am very grateful. Tracy, my sister, on the other hand, has been a selfish little jerk and not helped. She's been partying with her friends, taking my car, and fighting with Mom. She did bring me ice cream, though, which was nice. She's just annoying and I hope she realizes the errors of her ways soon.

Also, we got a new puppy! He's an 80 pound Mastiff mix and his name is Brutus. I love him. I'll post pics when I take some.