Molly wrote this title for me
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "thejoyofcooking" journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
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05:26 pm
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the bell rang
It's fucking gorgeous outside! I'm thankful for this laptop, Lord.
VM tonight!
Oh, and also...I LOVE THAT PARIS HILTON SONG
I LOVE IT
Current Music: and rang but still I kept on
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02:20 pm
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apparently this means 'heroic'
I HATE BEING ASKED
10. So what work do you have tonight?
9. Where did you go for lunch?
8. Has Cora said anything about Montana?
7. Has Blackburn (my mother is too aloof to refer to her as 'Ms. B,' as mortals do) called you by your name?
6. Why do you think you don't have any black friends?
5. Did Caroline say anything about Exeter?
4. Can you water the plants? Again?
3. So how's physics?
2. Are you sick?
and, of course
1. Why aren't you wearing pants?
Current Music: Symphony No. 3 "Eroica" (and not 'erotic')
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11:22 pm
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stand up and thank her
Late to bed and early to rise
Makes a girl walk with rust in her eyes
Current Music: stand up and thank her
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09:18 pm
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you're invisible now
5. I saw them scrubbing our chalky masterpiece off the freshman building driveway with soap and water. This makes me sad. And also a little apprehensive. Are they going to punish us? Oh my.
4. Today in dance we were adorable and wrote each other's biographies. I can't think of a better way to do it.
3. I haven't gotten a proper night of sleep since the summer. What? Yes.
2. I can't believe Veronica Mars won't start until next week. I just don't know what to do with myself. (I'm so used to doing everything with you)
1. I should graduate high school in the same year as Mama T. turns fifty more often! She bought our plane tickets today. Now all I have left on my big list of goals is to convince Lucy to take me to Singapore with her.
Current Music: you got no secrets
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09:03 pm
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the sound of the engines
My merit scholarship application essay is turning out pretty snarky.
I love this song.
Current Music: and the smell of the grain, we go riding
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12:48 am
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there's my territory and
I am so very jealous of the tenth and eleventh graders who get Manos this year. I gave that man a hug yesterday (actually, HE gave ME one--it was like Chanukah had come early and hell had frozen over at the same time, perhaps creating an exciting new opportunity for marketing ice menorahs? As Georgia Nicolson so memorably once or lots of times said, Shut up, brain) and I'm not ashamed. If there is a good thing to have come of this whole CGI quagmire of deep crap, it is that I have been able to cultivate a meaningful relationship with someone small and twitchy like the M and of course all the CGI teaching co. And when I say 'meaningful relationship' I mean I traded insults with them for fifteen minutes today in the office and they tolerate me standing with them at the back of the LGI when I don't feel like finding a seat. That means.
Life!
Current Music: all the things I deserve for being such a good girl, honey
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08:01 pm
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once, I wanted to be
Dear World,
Should I bother to go to my study hall classroom tomorrow? Or should I not show up, which is the game plan for every single other day of school? I wasn't even aware that study hall classrooms existed, but apparently they're going to assign me one tomorrow.
I'm leaning towards the no-show route (which really means, I can't imagine attending a study hall 'class'), but I wondered what the etiquette was.
love,
me
P.S. Ella, when do you have dance? Kisses
Current Music: the greatest
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04:20 pm
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not only ice cold
Even though it's September, I feel freedom is nigh. Just because I already think that senior year has been a joke. And also I have a free period for the first time in my life.
Current Music: it is here
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11:57 am
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let dust
Dear Charlotte Alter, wherever you are,
I apologize for all the things I called you yesterday. It was misdirected rage. It's just that, when I heard your mom and my dad were working at the same place, I was like, okay. Actually, I was like, "Where are the baby carrots, Dad?" because I didn't really care. And then, when I found out that they were both being flown out to California this weekend and were allowed to bring one guest each, I was like, fine, you can't have it all. Go enjoy yourself, Papa E. Alex and I will go to Pennsylvania and spend a few days at the weekend house of our aunt and uncle while you bask in the sun. I'll bask in the sun eventually. After all, you're fifty and I'm not. And I've been to California a couple of times. But then when I heard that your parents had in fact gotten you a plane ticket (and maybe your sister too, for all I know) and took you to California with them, and you were there in the hot weather instead of in the woods, under a stationary rain cloud, uh, that's when I started cursing your name.
But I'm sure in reality you've never done any of the deeds I hastily attributed to your name.
Love,
me
Current Music: be dust
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12:03 pm
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I don't want to
I've developed the new technique of wrist steering (and its bastard cousin, thumb steering) that has much potential. It's a little hard to do turns, though.
The trick with this one is, don't do it while anyone else is in the car, because you don't want to worry anyone.
Current Music: kiss you, I don't want to touch
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10:35 am
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I've got to clear
In a fit of whimsy I've added not all, but most of a Celine Dion CD to my iPod. It's shameful, yes, but I also spent a long time singing along to it yesterday morning. Sometimes you just need to reconnect with that Canada via Vegas culture that you may have lost somewhere along the way (yes, 'My Heart Will Go On' is totally included).
Current Music: my head
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05:43 pm
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honey, take me dancing
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
1. Be tailgated. Swear.
2. Realize that North Mountain is still blocked off. Swear. Detour.
3. Do one of my signature crappy parking jobs.
4. Greet Alex. On the second day of knowing us, Alex offered us all college reccommendations and showed me all the pictures of his kids and wife in his wallet. I really like him. Today he asked me to feel his skull, which I did with aplomb. I feel that he maybe addled his brains a little with all the drugs, but he was mostly like that at birth. He reeks of smoke. Greet model as afterthought.
5. Sketch.
6. Talk to Brittany. I appreciate her for her openness. It took her three days of knowing me to reveal her thoughts on tampons. She is about to be a junior. She is fucked.
7. Get sick of sketching.
8. Go to the bathroom.
9. Go home.
Current Location: but they end up sleeping in a doorway
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05:08 pm
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move over
Does anyone know what the fuck is up with this physics packet? Is there any actual work to do or are we just supposed to learn the concepts? I hate summer work. I'm not reading this thing.
Current Music: honey
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06:29 pm
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nothing at all
SMILE! YOU ARE IN ______ !
DAY ONE We arrive in Barcelona, having taken the red eye and gotten perhaps forty-five minutes of sleep between the four of us. Mama T immediately begins trying to speak Spanish to the cab driver who takes us from the airport to the hotel; this is so painful that I won't even go into it. Later, at the corner deli (the town seems comprised of corner delis, slouching apartment buildings, and carnicerias), she orders two ham and cheese sandwiches and we receive two ham ones, two cheese ones, and a lot of grief. Papa E also chooses this time to inform us that we can't drink the water in Spain because of the unfamiliar bacteria. Cheers. The Coke Light tastes like metal. See some Gaudi.
DAY TWO Wake up with strange memories of dark rooftop pools and realize that am in Spain, and that the previous night, instead of championing healthy sleep, my mother persuaded me to go up and dip our feet in the pool on top of the hotel. This was all very well and good (it was quite fun to hear her try to order a spritzer in Spanish) but so much for easing into the foreign life, eh? In Spain, they don't eat dinner until ten o'clock at night so the only other people in the restaurant with us night after night at the disgraceful hour of nine are other tourists and old people. Allegedly they all go clubbing afterwards, but the streets are suspiciously empty as we walk back from dinner. See the chapel Sagrada Familia, which is fucking excellent.
DAY THREE Visit the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art (or something), which bites the big one. We inadvertantly see a traditional Catalan folk dance while roaming round the city. I hope that's not what all TCFDs look like because it was damn stupid from where I was. More Gaudi.
DAY FOUR Go to the Parc Guell, which requires scaling an incline with roughly the steepness of a tree trunk. I sit next to a very tall guy on the bus who I later see at the park, leading me to paranoid thoughts. Also go to La Pedrera. Am starting to feel Gaudied out (but it still beats the fucking contemporary art museum).
DAY FIVE Spend maybe an hour and forty-five minutes picking up crappy rental car. Drive to more rural Catalonia and discover that hotel is actually renovated castle. This would mean something if we weren't staying in the addition, which is a series of apartment-style blocks off to the side built around 1970. The hotel also has a Napoleon Room which houses a gigantic scale model of the Battle of Waterloo with hundreds of little toy soldiers. No explanation offered for presence of room.
DAY SIX Roam Mediterranean shores and dangerous mountain roads in quest of quaint Spanish villages in the hills. There are a lot of crucified Jesuses in those quaint Spanish villages in the hills. However, all the ice cream lunches manage to keep me upbeat. We also see the Dali museum and Salvador Dali's summer house, although it requires a trek past the fishing hamlets and out to the furthest bit of land extending into the ocean possible. It might have been worth it; I can't remember because my brain shut down from heat exhaustion. I'm told we took a lovely tour.
DAY SEVEN See some more Dali relics (a castle he bought for his wife- the region seems to be teeming with spare castles) and get into horrible fights on the road. Take a nice seaside stroll over some cliffs and under some enormous Spanish mansions. If anyone would like to get me anything for my next birthday, I would like an enormous Spanish mansion, please.
DAY EIGHT Actually we spent most of the day in France, driving through on our way to San Sebastian. We stopped in what revealed itself to be a French ghost town: there were no humans anywhere. Anywhere. We wandered around looking first for a patisserie and then for any sign of life whatsoever. Found none. San Sebastian turns out to be a beach/resort town with a lot of tourists, damn them.
DAY NINE There is a homeless man who walks up and down the promenade pushing a shopping cart full of crap with a kitten perched on top. Whenever we walk along the promenade (this is like a boardwalk crossed with a highway, it's impossible not to go on it several times a day), I stare at the kitten and the guy catches my eye and holds out his hat for me to put money in it. I never learn my lesson, and he never gets any money, as I have no Euros.
DAY TEN Drive to Bilbao and go to the Guggenheim there. If you've seen those Smile! You are in Spain! ads, you have seen the Bilbao Guggenheim. My mother threatened to make me pose for that same picture once we arrived, but thankfully we were all in such foul moods by the time we got there that there was no such tomfoolery. The Coke Light continues to taste like a robot's ass; I am ready to go home.
DAY ELEVEN Arrive at airport two hours early. The man at our gate (Gate 12, which appears to also be the last gate at this majestic Bilbao airport) won't let us sit in his chairs because we are too early. Hour and a half flight to Paris, hour and forty minute layover, one vomiting incident, not me but near me, then eight hours to Newark Airport. The bitch in front of me puts her seat back for the entire flight. I cannot feel sorry for her when she too begins to vomit. I think there is nothing more that I hate in the world than someone who reclines on an airplane. We get home. Papa E and I immediately go out and buy several cases of soda, not one of which is Diet Coke.
Current Music: about nothing
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11:07 am
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and my pants
1. Was anyone else listening when they caught those guys who were plotting to blow up the Lincoln Tunnel? I was going to write about Spain today but it seemed wrong to completely ignore this thing that ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIES ME. Do you know what would happen if you were in the tunnel when it exploded? How many ways of escape are there underground under a river?
2. On a very different note, it makes me sad that virtually every one of Marie's entries seems to be about how much fun everyone has been having.
3. Spain recap tomorrow (if no one has been apprehended trying to cut all the DeCamp bus brake lines).
Current Music: ain't getting no bigger
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12:11 pm
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I
I don't understand why parents don't just sit their kid down at eleven or twelve and just create the perspective for them. Maybe there's something to be said for discovering things on your own and growing as a person, but I would have been a lot less insufferable if my mother had told me about all the lifestyles in the world. Like, "Yes, I know you think you're the shit because I've recently let you walk to the Gap by yourself. But there are people in the world who live in AIDS-ridden countries for six to twelve months a year for Habitat for Humanity and can't drink the water, and they think they're the shit, too. And there are people who can do eighteen shots in an hour and don't even know what a job is and live in their own filth, and they think they're the shit, too. And there are people who pay four hundred dollars for a pair of cargo pants, and they think they're the shit, too. And then there are all those people who think they're amazing just because they've managed to live for one or two years on their own in a closet that some con artist sold to them as an apartment, and they've learned how to make ramen and clean the windows. So stop giggling so loudly and choose a set of standards you think is wise." I mean, I wouldn't have gotten so excited about buying a mocha at Starbucks.
Does anyone have the English 12 AP summer work and/or the Physics C summer work and can I borrow them and photocopy them? I know the physics is a huge packet but I'll staple it all back together when I'm done, I swear.
Current Music: just can't sleep
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05:05 pm
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these are the days
Happy summer solstice!
I recycled all my schoolwork this afternoon. If those classes were worth anything, I won't need the paperwork to remember all the things I've learned.
Current Music: of miracles and wonder
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10:08 pm
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but I
THE QUICKEST WAY TO ENSURE THAT YOUR DAUGHTER WILL HATE YOU FOREVER:
Read her Phoenix introduction and say nothing except that she used 'comprised' incorrectly.
Copy editing pain in my ass.
Current Music: feel you could
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08:12 pm
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who am I to blow against the wind?
MIDWESTERN HOUSEWIVES OF THE WORLD, TAKE PRIDE!
or
CAT POWER (CAT POWER!)
I called everyone I dared on the way to the bus stop, everyone who I considered a) inoffensive to the general public aka Marie and Lucy and b) present in my phone book, but no one wanted to come to the concert with us. So I stood outside the tiny house, unable to go in and sit down because of the kilometers of cigarette smoke issuing from it, so thick I could barely see inside to all the white trash, and randomly sent out inflammatory text messages until someone wrote back. Then the bus came. Midwestern housewives of the world, take pride-you were right. If you allow your children to go into the big city (this could be any town), they WILL get lung cancer from secondhand smoke. Good for you!
After passing the site of past triumph, AKA Au Bon Pain, and reliving beautiful memories, we turned ourselves loose on the town, and in a situation like that, where you have three seventeen-year-olds and a crappy opening act that no one's in a rush to see, shit gets a little wild. We took full advantage of our situation by going to the only place suitable. Oh yes, you know what I'm going to say: Tasti D-Lite. And I got a medium, motherfucker. Midwestern housewives of the world, take pride-you were right. If you allow your children to go into the big city, they WILL gorge themselves on unknown substances that are probably carcinogens. And then feel slightly sick and very cold afterwards.
On the way back, Marie managed to have not one but two social near-crises. The first occurred as we were crossing 48th Street, when she spotted a chick in front of us wearing a crew team leather jacket and Lucy and I had to forcible restrain her from jumping the poor girl and starting a conversation about river water and erging (and we all know what 'erg' is code for). The second happened on 43rd Street. I allowed myself to become carelessly distracted by looking at addresses and Lucy was off somewhere in her own world (no doubt replaying the moment in her head at which she lost her bus tickets over and over), and Marie was sucked into a conversation with Singing Six Two Guy and his buddy, Alarmingly Reticent Five Nine And a Half Guy, who were belting out a love song a few pavement squares ahead of us. That is, they were belting out a love song, until they started teaching Marie street lingo. Ask her to share. Midwestern housewives of the world, take pride-you were right. If you allow your children to go into the city, they WILL be propositioned by strange men. And pot will most definitely come into the equation.
Then we sold the extra ticket to a guy for a really embarrassing amount of money that I will not divulge for important reasons, such as keeping my dignity. MHotWTPYWR. If you allow your children to go into the city, they WILL do something illegal, and do it very badly.
And finally, finally, finally-Cat Power! She was excellent, as was the Memphis Rhythm Band. I'm actually going to refrain from describing the show since the memory is very pleasant and I would only treat it in a snarky manner, as is my wont. I'm glad I went is all there is to it. I can't imagine the CGI Toast to the Teachers wasn't worth missing on a normal night, but on a Cat Power night? Come on now.
The bus schedule was all fucked up on the way back, but it didn't matter.
Soooooooooo how was Celebrations?
Current Music: I know what I know
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04:23 pm
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down along the avenue
Dear world,
It was late in the evening.
And I blew that room away.
(I've done nothing all week.)
love
Current Location: some guys were shooting
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