the misadventures of church street girls and jason townie

note: last name is townie for two reasons.
1. we don't know, nor intend to know, his last name.
2. it describes him perfectly

behind our lovely cosy home there lies a one bedroom studio house. from the outside it looks like a cool place to live, but once you venture in the image of solitude and a kick ass pad take a drastic and dark turn. with a bright blue, orange red, and lime green paint covering the cinder block walls (respectively) you get the sense that a pot-smoking folk painter named steve used to live there.

which is, in fact, true. i think he's in florida now.

but then came vi, a quiet art grad student from seattle who never knocked before entering our humble abode. she was nice and kept to herself. she left after one semester due to a multitude of reasons.

then came the issue of dexter ("automatic!") to find someone to rent the place out. not soon after a guy comes around saying that he's going to move in, and does so the next day. too bad is was pouring down rain at the time and his couch and matress were soaked. even worse (as i later found out) the mattress fell off his friend's truck and was run over by a car. he is, in one word, a townie.

for those who don't know a townie usually refers to unsavory people in england who wear fake adias clothes and have bad grammar. here in the states a townie refers to someone who lives in a college town but does not attend the college. also, their employment is usually at an establishment that overcharges the students of said college (in this case, coffee at hot corner).

jason, our townie...
is in his late twenties
is a musician
has one job which he works 3-4 days a week
reeks of smoke
has no car
says "man" at least once in every sentence
and has a dog named bucky, which pees on our grill and trashcans

he's much more social than vi, which is a good thing if you take into consideration how creepy it would have been if he were to keep to himself all the time. and he's a nice enough guy, just slighty...off. i'm placing all bets it's on the way he talks. and maybe on the fact that he repeats stories he just told you not five minutes prior. oh, and erin, anja, and i seeing him naked playing guitar might have something to do with it too.

the real test will be this friday when we have our 80s party (which i will discuss at great lengths later). we've told him about it and pretty much invited him, though i think he should only be allowed on the porch at the most.

i'm in a funk that hit me hard

this post is angry, bitter, helpless, sad and above all, a rant.


i can't stand reading the yahoo! news discussion boards. the most ignorant, arrogant, racist shitheads fill those boards with personal opinions that are so far backward and wrong that i'm amazed these people can even tie their shoe laces, let alone turn on a computer.

it's not just with this article either, it's with all articles. no matter how big or small the issue someone will always talk about how "the black man is destroying america", how "liberals are going to hell", how "bush needs to die", or how america needs to "nuke the fuck out of africa and let all those anal loving AIDS n****** burn."

excuse me? oh hell no.

i've wasted hours upon hours over the last four years writing back to these people and trying to get my say in, but i swear it feels like i'm swimming upstream. not even swimming-- more like drowning.

i'm drowing in an ocean of ignorance and hate. my clothes are soaked with words i won't even write and i'm choking on racial slurs and anti-ANYTHING that's not "american."

so abc anchor bob woodruff was injured in a roadside bombing and rushed to germany and it makes headlines nationwide. tell me, american news media team, how many iraqi civilians were killed in the past ten days? don't know? how about within a two day span? i'll even make it recent for you: jan 20th- 22nd. still don't know? well you wouldn't, would you-- america doesn't care about things like that.

fuck that. fuck your bias and your audiance. fuck the close minded people that are plaguing this country and the world all over. i refuse to accept what you have to give me and i will never settle for less than the truth.





the count was 52, by the way. that's 52 known people who will never get to see their sons, daughters, husbands, wives, children, or best friends ever again. that's about half of my class and about six full pews at a church that i haven't gone to in God knows how long. that's 52 people killed within the span of forty-eight hours, and that wasn't even this past weekend.

today in my human rights class we watched one of the many videos showing a man being beheaded in iraq. the reason for this man's death was making a video. hell, i don't even know if he actually got to make one, but he was kidnapped and beheaded in front of a camera for all the world to see.

i almost threw up.

i feel like i use that term a lot in order to emphasis something that is displeasing to me, but in this instance i mean it in its most literal sense. i felt the bile rising up in my throat and i was holding my hand so hard against my mouth that my lips were sore long after the video ended.

i don't even know where to start with explaining it. i almost feel that it's better for people to read this instead of seeing the actual video because once you see something like that everything changes. i need to get this out and i need to talk about it, but i can't. this is the only way i can talk about what i saw and how i felt. stop now if you don't want to read anymore. i'm sorry if this bothers anyone, but no matter how much you hate me for writing this it's nothing compared to what i feel.



it started with several men in black standing behind a man kneeling on the floor. there was a bag over his head so he couldn't see what was going on, and my bet is that he couldn't understand what they were saying either. they made their announcment and then laid him on his side and grabbed his head. and then started sawing away at his neck with a knife. a knife that wasn't particuarly big or special. it looked like a large kitchen knife.

they started sawing back and forth right underneath his chin. right where you can feel yourself swallowing. and then he started screaming, but it sounded like there was a gag in his mouth because it was muffled, though that could have been the bag.



God. there was so. much. blood.



the man's screams then turned into gurgles, but you could still hear the knife ripping through skin. his body was twitching and spasming. you could see the blood flowing out of his neck like a river and spilling across the floor and on the executioner.

i wanted to walk out so bad. i want to forget that i've seen this and go back to my happy life where i read about these things in the news and say "that's awful." you can't hear him screaming and then gurgling. you can't see his muscles and tendons and bones and blood in an article. you can't see his head teeter on the floor after they cut through his last bit on neck, or when they hold it up for all to see. you don't see the man's dead open eyes stare back at you, his mouth opened like he's still trying to scream.

he was the first. there have been many others killed in this way, some taped and some not.

i can't stop crying when i think about it and i can't stop my throat from closing up at the thought of the knife touching his skin. i wouldn't want to wish anyone to watch that or go through something like that. i am furious that these people would tape this, but i know it's their way of showing the world that they have authority over everyone. it's their proof that they are just as powerful as a state, because only states execute people.

fuck.

ten things i learned this weekend

1. skype kicks ass and everyone should get it. with nneka in england this is the only way i can talk to her and it's fantastic. i've talked to mom through this service a couple of times and it's (dare i say) better than calling on my cell. if your computer has a mic then you're set for life. go download it, type in my name, and then give me a call-- i'm always on.

2. cameron crowe soundtracks are amazing.

3. i really don't care what people think anymore. good or bad...i am me.

4. how to play the anchorman drinking game-- a collaborative effort between ben, lauren, sizzle, brice, josh, and i. though this shouldn't be done with wine, nights such as saturday's are ones that keep me sane.

5. the globe serves delicious food. i'm happy i'm keeping up with my resolution to eat at new places in athens (about damn time too. i've been here for three years). thanks L.

6. the townie living behind us is actually a squatter, though he was unaware of this. i'm hoping weaver will kick him out, but you never know. though he (jason) is an amiable guy he's a complete pot head and reaks of smoke and slacker. a musician with two jobs and no car, who constantly says "man," and who i had the displeasure of seeing naked needs to go.

7. i should have bought the plane ticket when i had the chance. it's now $100 more and that money could have gone towards the hotel (or something else). when you see a good deal take it, because it'll be gone before you know it.

8. amtrak does not have a straight route from atlanta to chicago. instead you'd have to go to d.c. (13 hours), and then from there you'd go to windy city (17 hours). at least it'd be cleaner than the trains in italy.

9. west wing is being cancelled at the end of this season. i swear to God they better resolve this whole josh/donna thing. after seven years of watching this show i better get a kiss or some affirmation of love or john wells will find my foot so far up his ass he'll be chewing on the gum i stepped in today.

10. it is possible to fall in love with someone through a picture. it wasn't even that great of a picture and here i am, smitten with a friend of nneka's who is currently in england and who i will never meet.

the gut wrenching twist

you all know what i'm talking about. it's that feeling in the pit of your stomach that does this...thing whenever you think about someone, something, or someplace. this twist, as i like to call it, is either in your gut or in your heart, but i think both are the same thing.

the feeling usually occurs whenever i think of the way things used to be or if i think about certain people, but at this moment it's because of italy.

specifically the show "floyd in italy." i've never watched the show before, but i was just flipping through the channels and BAM. siena.

siena.

i automatically think of kenny and lauren and how they made fun of me for lipsyncing on the bus. i think of eating at that not-so-great chinese place and then shopping for underwear for two hours while the guys sat outside. i think of the fieldtrip i took with the class and how i was frantically searching for cinnamon gelato (yet never finding it), running into lauren's parents (what are the odds?), and nearly crying when i walked into the most beautiful duomo in italy (even better than the vatican).








i wish this particular gut wrenching twist had been caused by something else. i haven't had one due to italy in a while, so it kind of came as a jolt to me.

friday fun and saturday suckiness

friday fun:

krush girls was great (as always) and all in all it was a great night. got to hang out with people i haven't seen in what feels like forever (sizzle! lauren! tarik!) and ran into a lot of people i knew and made a lot of promises to dance with them the next time kg are in town.

i'm happy to say that i found the dignity i had lost at 40 watt on new year's eve. it was on the dancefloor.

saturday suckiness:

was planning on going to the monster truck show at the georgia dome (do not ask) and was completely ripped off by scalpers. i took on the responsability of getting the tickets and failed utterly and miserably and i swear i will make it up to you guys.

after that most of my night was spent in atlanta brooding, though when we got back to athens it was only to open the door to pieces of bamboo everywhere, jello shots strewn about the living room, and a drunk sara laughing and smiling like a little kid.

if anyone ever needs to get out of a funk she's the girl to do it.

friday the thirteenth

i wonder what the night will bring, because the day didn't really deliver on anything special. classes are classes, though severely depressing.

and i mean that in a literal sense. my classes are going to be a challenge on my usual demeanor. it takes a lot to get me down, but with these three classes i'm not so sure. in a twisted way i'm interested to see how effected i become.

hist 4700: comparative history on christians and jews in WWII.
our first assignment is to watch schindler's list. that alone should give you an idea of the direction of the class. survival stories, horror stories, stories that will make me hopeful and discouraged at the same time-- it's all there.

hist 4500: africa since 1960.
we're already talking about rwanda, the dafur conflict, stereotypes, and why people view the african countries as inferior.

geog 3640: geography of human rights
a class about mass violence-- why it happens, how it happens, and what people are doing/aren't doing to stop/continue it, who's doing it, where it's happening, and how it is felt throughout the entire world. crimes of war is an amazingly insightful book, and i've only read bits and pieces.

and then there's italian, which makes me happy and will provide a breath of fresh air in the midst of all this killing/murder/despair/misery. but these things need to be known and i want to know them. no one said it was going to be easy.


BUT i am excited about tonight, for i will be going back to krush girls and redeeming any dignity i lost while there on new year's eve. hopefully the monsoon we appear to be having will die down though. yeesh.

intro level classes...

can kiss my pale white ass.

three hundred freshmen packed into a room completely oblivious to anyone but the person on their cell is more than just annoying, it's torture. i sat there for ten mintues asking myself what i was doing there, heard someone ask "what is bel jean?" and snapped. after throwing my syllabus in the trashcan i walked out the door and bid religion 1002 fucking adieu.


in other news, my african history since 1650 rocks my face off. the prof is hysterical and i've never seen anyone--anyone-- so enthusiastic about teaching their subject. "mamdani man! we're reading freaking mamdani! how stoked are you guys?"

so far so good. here's hoping for tomorrow.




ps. erin and i are about to go look into the house down the street. it's so perfect i want to vomit.

last ditch efforts

school starts tomorrow and i'm actually excited. i'm starting italian again (i regret ever stopping), and my human rights class is going to be amazing. it's really going to help me with connecticut camp.

ice skating at the olympic park was too fun. i was seriously thinking about going back on saturday or today but held myself back. i bruised my knees pretty badly and had to sleep in my brace for the first time in months due to a particuarly bad fall. of course, that's what i get for not wearing it in the first place.

i wish ice skating was available all year round here. i would go at least once a week, no joke.


things i want this semester:
go to a drive-in theater
eat at different places downtown
try new recipes
hang out downtown more often (read, homework, etc)
randomly visit people
randomly get visits from people (sorry L, next time!)
drink more wine
be more colorful
stay on track with homework (starting tomorrow)
live a little
have my cake and eating it too

"goddamn! that's a pretty fuckin' good milk shake"

i love pulp ficiton. i want to find a vincent that'll do the twist with me at a 50s dinner.



ps. what in holy hell is "cold water" doing on ER? that irkes me for some reason...like it's tainting the song somehow.

quiet

i've barely spoken a word to anyone today and, while it was nice and peaceful, i'm beginning to miss the company of my roommates and the constant noise of people.

usually i'm always talking or doing something, but most of the day was spent reading, listening to music, driving around, and doing errands. now i'm bumming around waiting for something exciting to happen, though i doubt anything will.

i haven't slept alone in this house since the beginning of the semester. i forgot how creepy it is.



edit: how the hell could i forget? people need to fucking learn how to drive and not try to kill me. that is all.

two thousand and six

so...yesterday/last night/early morning was fun, and i mean that in every aspect possible.

i have the marks/brusises/stories to prove it.

one mark:
small cut on bottom lip. someone's kissing is pretty agressive...too bad i can't remember exactly who gave it to me (probably sara, geez) or when it occured.

one bruise:
middle of my back. towards the end of the night i tripped and hit the corner of the hallway table on my way down. it felt like someone sucker punched me with the blunt side of a knife.

one story:
dirty drink. spilt half of a long island on the bar and proceeded to wipe what i could into the glass, then drank it. anja, though a witness to this horrifying site, drank it with me.

immidiate new year's resolutions:
stop doing everything barefoot, mainly 40 watt.
stop falling all over the damn place.


happy new year.