Supply Your Own Context

Actual, honest-to-God quotes from the past two days of my life:

1. Burcu: Danielle, you know how we had that little rule about never putting anything in writing? I think it's time to add a corollary: stop talking.

2. My Mom (on IM): That second head was a beautiful little girl. They should call it that, not a head.
Me: it was a freakish lump of flesh!!!

3. Real-Live Sprint Operator: Danielle, I'm so fucking sick of all your disgusting jokes about breastfeeding!

I have also had several involved conversations with coworkers about animal menstruation, syphillis symptoms, ovarian cysts with hair and teeth, and membranous dysmenorrhea. It's been....a bizarre 48 hours.

Good Intentions Pave the Road

One of my Russian homework assignments was to write a summary of a scene from Master and Margarita in which a giant cat named Begemot plays a chess game against Satan. I was having so much fun writing it, adding my little flairs and asides, that when I finished and glanced at the clock, I saw that class had started fifteen minutes ago. Such is my life.

To those who are awaiting e-mails, phone calls, or general vital signs from yours truly, I humbly and desperately request your patience - I am overwhelmed with stress right now while I prepare for my Fundamentals exams, which are only two and a half weeks away. I wish I could just lock myself in my room with my texts until then, but unfortunately I have outside commitments such as "class" and "work." And I haven't even been satisfactorily keeping up with those. I'm scraping my way towards graduation, and I'll make it, even if I end up with splinters under my fingernails and a mouth full of sawdust (I know I stole that last line from somewhere). The good news is, I did my dishes (I have to procrastinate somehow). And the last 200 pages of Crime & Punishment can still make me cry, even on the fifth reread.

Against all odds, I had something resembling a lovely day today. It was sunny enough to go out without a jacket, so I finally got to debut the purple seashell bracelet my sister bought for me in Thailand. I also wore dangly earrings, which always makes my mood a shade or two brighter. Practically everyone at the ILL office was had taken the day off, so those of us who actually went in spent most of the day chatting and engaging in mutual mockery, my favorite pastime. I also used my repository of random and bizarre pop culture knowledge to triumphantly prove to my doubtful boss and coworkers that Ricky Martin did, in fact, profess his love for "the golden shower" during an interview in Blender Magazine.

ForecastFox had assured me there would be a thunderstorm this afternoon, but instead, the weather was perfect. The kind of weather that buoys your soul. I felt hopeful about my future - even my present - for the first time in a long time. Given that my moods are clearly so dependent on the weather, it seems obvious that Chicago is not the place for me. Give me two months, California, and we will have a happy and frolicky reunion. Anyway, I went to Trader Joe's and Whole Foods and bought my favorite foods, then went home and had a little Danielle feast consisting of freeze-dried strawberries, cherry tomatoes on the vine, tortilla chips and salsa, string cheese, and my half-water/half-citrus-club-soda Magic Potion.

For the past half hour or so my kitty and I have been sprawled on our backs on my big bed, side by side, our arms stretched out and our bellies exposed, listening to all my favorite songs on iTunes. I would put a couple of Apollo's favorite songs on the playlist but he can't talk and thus can't suggest anything. Sucks to be him!

So it was a nice day, even a great day - at least as great as days get around here.

Readers! Do you remember the book Ramona Quimby, Age 8, by Beverly Cleary? If yes, you surely must remember The Affair of the Egg, one of the most heartbreaking accounts to ever grace children's literature.

What happened was this: there was a fad amongst Ramona's classmates (and I do believe the word "fad" was actually used) to bring hardboiled eggs to school, and during lunchtime, crack them open against one's forehead. On one fateful afternoon, Ramona removed her daily egg from her bag and prepared to commence the cracking ritual. But (SPOILER WARNING!!!) as she smashed the egg against her forehead, she found herself suddenly dripping with strings of gold and white, with eggshell shards stuck to her skin and hair. For that morning, her mother had accidentally plucked Ramona's egg from the wrong refrigerator drawer - the "raw egg" one rather than the "cooked egg" one. Poor Ramona, who only wanted to do well, to be loved, to succeed!

Every time I eat a hardboiled egg, I remember this story. Tonight, I cracked my egg open against my forehead in honor of Ramona Quimby.

It's been a slowwwwwww week.....

I can't sleep
I can't speak to you

I last did one of these three months ago. It's not too soon to do another, is it?
Whew.

1) Are your parents married or divorced?
Married thirty-seven years and still weird as hell.

2) Vegetarian?
No, although I was when I was a teenager. I do think meat is sort of gross but not as gross as I feel if I'm under-proteined. When I get rich I'll buy free-range and organic only. Sugar daddy, where are you? The animals of the world are relying on you.

3) Heaven?
There was a V.C. Andrews book by that name that I was never able to finish. Heaven was a hick and had a weird close (but chaste) relationship with her brother. Speaking of, I wonder who approved this cover design for a new edition of Flowers in the Attic. Damn you, scary house of doom, for coming between the happy sunny romance of our blond heroes. I can imagine some clueless mom picking up that book and being like, "Well, this looks cute!" and buying it for her eleven-year-old. My mom actually did something similar when we were twelve - one of our Christmas presents was a book she picked up at Thrifty's that was supposed to contain three novellas about angels coming to earth to assist lovelorn mortals. It turned out it was about that, but Harlequin-style. I was blithely reading it, thinking "angels are so great," and all of a sudden WHAM, breast-sucking. I was like "OHMIGOD" and went and told my mom (I was such a drip) and she took it and hid it from us (probably to read it herself) but I found it again.

4) Come close to dying?
No...not that I know of. Except for that time my sister came to my room in the middle of the night and stood over my bed gazing at me with a knife in her hand. Then she slowly shook her head and walked out. You made the right decision, KK. Okay, I guess that wasn't a very funny lie.

5) What jewelry do you wear 24/7?
Nothing.

6) Are you eating?
Nope.

7) Do you eat the stems of broccoli?
That's a lot less gross than eating the tentacles.

8) Makeup?
One of the things I'm unabashedly girly about. You: Way to conform to societal expectations for beauty, Danielle. Me: You're probably right. Can I tweeze your eyebrows though?

9) Would you ever have plastic surgery?
Probably not, just because I think most plastic surgery looks so bad. I have a wish list for cosmetic surgeries though. Once I get a benefactor, I'll get a boob lift because I hate being so dependent on bras. It's not like I'll go around all bouncy hippie-like but being able to wear strapless stuff and halter tops would be nice. Also: jaw surgery for the clicking and clenching, and laser hair removal (not that I have any).

10) What do you wear to bed?
It totally depends. Usually sweatpants and a tshirt.

11) Have you ever done anything illegal?
Never.

12) Can you roll your tongue?
Sure

13) Pluck your eyebrows?
Mine and everyone else's, too.

14) What are your favorite kind of jeans?
Any kind that actually fits a WO-MAN like me. I just bought Gap curvy jeans. They're all right.

15) Abortion?
Too important and thorny of an issue to address flippantly in a survey.

16) Hair color?
I used to compare my hair to the samples at the drugstore and discovered my hair was "Dark Golden Brown." Definitely glamorous enough for my eight-year-old self, and my 22-year-old self. By the way, I should mention that for the first time since age 17, my hair is completely free of dye. That's right, I've finally freed myself of the addiction. I don't recommend against dying your hair, I just wish I'd known what I was getting myself into that day during senior year when Nikki Shum chirped, "Let's go get highlights!"

17) Future child's name?
I know what you're up to, you sneaky bastard.

18) Do you snore?
No...at least not most of the time.

19) If you could go anywhere in the world on a vacation, where would you go?
There are so many places I want to go. I can't choose just one. I have to say, I would like to visit Scotland, The Land of My People.

20) Do you sleep with stuffed animals?
yes. My stuffed puppy that I got for Christmas at age nine, when I was too old to believe in Santa, too old even to fall in love with a stuffed animal. Still, the handwriting on the card was different from my mom's, and I thought that maybe just this present...even today it still seems slightly infused with magic and possibility.

21) If you won the lottery, what would you do first?
I feel like I've been asked this question a lot lately. I'd buy my parents houses in Arizona and Wyoming. I'd get my mom and my dad and my sister whatever they want. Pay off my student loans and my sister's student loans. Buy a big house for myself, a couple dogs, travel a lot.

22) Gold or silver?
Silver. Gold is tacky.

23) Hamburger or hot dog.
In-N-Out protein-style double double cheeseburger. Hot dogs are really nasty and most have corn syrup anyway.

24) If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would you choose?
Ick. Nothing. Water.

25) Beach, city, or country?
All of the above.

26) Who was the last person you touched?
I probably jostled someone on the bus earlier this evening.

27) Where do you eat?
In front of the computer. I like to multitask.

28) When's the last time you cried?
Earlier today I had a little tantrum when I was on the phone with...my mom. How embarrassing, I feel like I'm always writing about crying while on the phone with my mom. It was actually very cathartic, though. There's been a lot of stuff weighing on my mind that I haven't felt justified in crying about and it felt really good to just release all of it.

29) Have you loved somebody so much it made you cry?
I have cried over people, but I'm not sure if "love" was the reason.

30) Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex?
This is a repeat from the last survey I took. A few years ago a couple friends and I were planning to go to Genderfuck, which is a little dance where the girls dress up as boys and vice versa. My idea of "dressing up like a boy" was black pants, a tie, a white-collared shirt, a braid, and...eyeliner. We didn't end up going though, so I never found out if I would actually have fooled anybody. Would I really, truly go out dressed as a boy? I don't know - maybe. It might be interesting. I'd have trouble pulling it off, though - have you seen my body?

31) Ever been involved with the police?
I have illicit affairs with the CPD on a regular basis.

32) Believe in Santa?
The way we found out it was a lie was that my sister found a plastic bag with one of my teeth and a letter I'd written to the tooth fairy shoved under my mom's mattress. From that followed everything. We were eight or nine, but it was before the Christmas when I got the aforementioned stuffed puppy. I still have that bag, in my keepsake box. The tooth is starting to disintegrate.

33) Do you talk in your sleep?
I don't think so. Maybe. My mom does, though. It's so cute.

34) Beach or pool?
Definitely the beach, although remember when you were a kid and a pool was the most exciting thing ever? Now I see it more as a giant pee/chlorine cocktail.

35) Can you cross your eyes?
Yeah, but I still need to work on that thing where you cross your eyes and then look to the right or left - one of your eyes moves by itself. Freaky! I can't do it well though.

36) What's your favorite song at the moment?
How can I choose? My last.fm page says my most listened-to song is "Cannonball" by Damien Rice, but that's partly because I hadn't played it out on my ipod mp3 cd player when I first started using the last.fm gadget. It's definitely not my favorite song, at any rate. I don't know what that would be.

37) Window seat or aisle?
Aisle because I ALWAYS have to get up to pee.

38) Ever met any famous bands/singers?
Uh...well, I sort of met Atom, minus Package, a few years ago.

39) Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it?
Definitely don't cut it. Spaghetti looks like worms. Especially spelt spaghetti, it's all dark brown. By the way, I'm still eight years old

40) Rickie Lake or Oprah Winfrey?
Oprah, although to be fair I haven't seen any John Waters films

41) Would you ever admit to having done plastic surgery of any kind if confronted?
Sure, I just readily admitted what I want a couple dozen questions ago.

42) How long does your shower last?
They're pretty short. I get bored easily. But one of the things I do when I'm bored is take a shower, up to three a day. Very bizarre.

43) Do you drive a stick?
Yes, but I haven't in a couple years. Hopefully it's like riding a bicycle.

44) Cake or ice cream?
When I ate them...both. Plus some oreo cookies and frosting right out of the container. Hell yeah. Oh shit, I'm starting to twitch.

45) Self-conscious?
Jesse: I know what you mean about wishing somebody else wasn't there. It's just, usually, it's myself that I wish I could get away from. Seriously, think about this. I have never been anywhere that I haven't been. I've never had a kiss when I wasn't one of the kissers. You know, I've never gone to the movies when I wasn't there in the audience. I've never been out bowling if I wasn't there making some stupid joke.
I think that's why so many people hate themselves. Seriously. It's just they are sick to death of being around themselves. Let's say that you and I were together all the time. You'd start to hate a lot of my mannerisms. The way, the way every time that we would have people over I'd be insecure, and I'd get a little too drunk. Or the way I tell the same stupid, pseudo-intellectual story again and again. You see I've heard all those stories so of course I'm sick of myself.
But being with you it's made me feel like I was somebody else. I mean the only other way to lose yourself like that is, you know, dancing or alcohol or drugs, or stuff like that.

46)What time do you get up?
If I don't answer this question, I can pretend it isn't true.

47) Have you ever given money to a bum?
Yes, but the longer I live in the city the less I'm likely to.

48) When was your first crush?
In kindergarten, I told my mom I was in love with a kid named Todd. My only memory of Todd is that I told my mom I was in love with him. I also remember I didn't have any feelings one way or another towards this Todd. "Is love supposed to be this numb?" I thought.

49) Where do you wish you were?
I don't even know...

50) Have you ever broken someone's heart?
I think I've hurt people...I would feel a little presumptuous saying I've "broken someone's heart."

51) Ever been given a ring?
Nope.

52) Last gift you received?
Plane ticket to San Fran

53) Last sport you played?
It's so sad that I don't even remember! I'd like to get a job at an elementary school or summer camp just so I can play sports again!

54). Things you spend a lot of money on?
Various foodstuffs

55) Where do you live?
Chicago. South Shore Drive.

56) High School you attend(ed)?
Rio Mesa

57) Last wedding attended?
Ana's.
The littlest boy in this picture makes my uterus ache.

58) Favorite fast food restaurant?
In-N-Out, of course. Damn you for not franchising! Just kidding baby, I love you.

59) Where do you work?
At the ILL office. I don't even know what to say about that job. It definitely doesn't lend itself to zany stories the way Leona's did. There's bizarreness but I'd never go into it here.

60) Can you cook?
Some things.

61) Most hated food:
I actually started to type it all out but never mind. Maybe I should offer the list for download as a word document. There's a reason I'm reluctant to have people to cook for me.

62) Can you sing?
I couldn't carry a tune if it were stapled to my arms.

63) Favorite Alcoholic drink:
When I was a kid I used to get really excited about getting to drink wine at communion. What a little lush.

64) Current Crush?
I'm through with crushes. I am a rock; I dare say I am an island.

I've got some thoughts rattling around in my head for the past few days and nowhere to release them. It's funny: issues I thought I'd worked through years ago - issues about God, about religion in general, about high school and the people I knew then, things like that - they disappeared, or at least hadn't elicited the same sort of angst they used to, for so long...but I think that may be because my life situation right now insulates me from dissenting viewpoints. I'm used to feeling comfortable with the decisions I've made and the beliefs I've had, even if they don't align completely with the majority. The majority of people around me, here at the U of C, are at least on the same wavelength with me, beliefs-wise. But soon I will be out in the world again and will be interacting with all sorts of people. The thought scares me. Not because I'm secretly afraid to question my belief system or anything like that - I question it all the time and pretty much always reach the same conclusions. It's because I'm afraid of what other people believe, and what that says about them.

I suppose I'll state straight out what I've been skating around: fundamentalist Christianity scares the shit out of me, and always has.

I used to obsess about religion so much it became physical. I felt like I had something scratching scratching scratching at my skin all the time. I remember sitting at my friend Nikki's kitchen table and debating Christianity with another friend Mike. We were sixteen. I got so upset I almost cried. It was like we were from separate planets.

Bleargh. You know what? I have lots more to say but I don't even want to. Originally this post was supposed to be about different racial groups at my high school but look what came out instead. I kind of don't feel I should post this but where else would I write it? Maybe I'll delete it later.

Why yes, I did just type up an entire chapter from my favorite book of all time, There's a Boy in the Girls' Bathroom by Louis Sachar. I felt like I should post something but couldn't find the words, so I'll let Mr. Sachar speak for me.

Chapter 23
"Look out! Here comes the monster!" screamed a chubby fourth-grade boy. "It's the monster from outer space!"

"Aaaah! It's so ugly!" yelled his skinny friend.

"Don't let it touch you!" warned a girl with pink glasses. "Or you'll turn into a monster too."

Bradley ran at them. They scattered and regrouped, like pigeons.

"It sure is a stupid monster!" shouted a third-grader.

After lunch, Bradley sat at his desk - last seat, last row. He didn't look at Jeff. He didn't look the other way, either, at the chart full of gold stars. And he didn't look straight ahead, at Mrs. Ebbel. He didn't look anywhere.

It was time to see Carla again. He took the hall pass from Mrs. Ebbel and walked out of the classroom.

He hated Carla. He didn't want to make the same mistake with her that he had made with Jeff. He realized Claudia was right. Carla didn't like him. That was just her job.

She was waiting for him outside her door. "Hello, Bradley," she said as she held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to see you today. I appreciate your coming to see me."

He walked past her and sat down at the round table.

She sat across from him. She was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with two triangles on it, one red and one blue.

"Did you make a list of topics to discuss?" she asked.

"No, you're the teacher."

"So?"

"So you're the one who has to say what we talk about, not me. That's your job!"

"Well, let me think," said Carla. "Are you sure you can't think of anything?"

He shook his head.

"I'm surprised. I thought you would have come up with a lot of interesting topics. Well, in that case, we'll have to talk about school. Shall we start with homework?"

"Monsters from outer space," he replied.

"Hmm?"

"Monsters from outer space," he repeated. "You said I could pick the topic. I want to talk about monsters from outer space!"

"What a wonderful topic!" said Carla.

"The only way to kill them is with a ray gun," said Bradley. "Regular guns, or even hand grenades and atomic bombs, won't kill them. You need a ray gun." He stood up and pretended to shoot a ray gun, making a noise that sounded like a cross between a machine gun and a horse.

Carla put her hands up to protect herself. "Don't shoot me," she said.

"You're a monster from outer space," he told her.

"No I'm not. I'm a counselor."

He stopped firing. "Do you believe in monsters from outer space?"

She shook her head. "No. But I do believe there are other types of creatures living in outer space. I just don't believe in monsters. I believe that Earth is just one small planet in a gigantic universe. I think there are billions of other planets with trillions of other kinds of creatures living on them. Some are real stupid and others smarter than you or me. Some are bigger than dinosaurs; others, smaller than ants. But out of all those creatures, I don't think there is even one monster."

"Not even one?"

"No," said Carla. "I think that everyone has 'good' inside him. Everyone can feel happiness, and sadness and loneliness. But sometimes people think someone's a monster. But that's only because they can't see the 'good' that's there inside him. And then a terrible thing happens."

"They kill him?"

"No, even worse. They call him a monster, and other people start calling him a monster, and everyone treats him like a monster, and then after a while, he starts believing it himself. He thinks he's a monster too. So he acts like one. But he still isn't a monster. He still has lots of good, buried deep inside him."

"But what if he's real ugly?" asked Bradley. "What if he has green skin and only one eye in the middle of his face, and three arms, and two hands on each arm, and eight fingers on each hand?"

Carla laughed. "You and I might think that's ugly," she said, "but that's just because it's different from what we're used to seeing. On that planet, that might be considered beautiful. You may have just described a handsome movie star."

Bradley laughed.

"On that planet, they probably would think I was ugly, because I don't have green skin and I have two eyes."

Bradley shook his head. "No, they might think I was ugly, but not you."

"Why, Bradley," Carla said with astonishment, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Thank you."

He blushed. He hadn't meant it the way it came out. "I don't want to talk about monsters anymore," he mumbled.

"Okay," said Carla. "I think we had a very good conversation, don't you? You picked an excellent topic."

For the rest of the session, he colored. He took a green crayon out of Carla's large box of crayons and tried to draw the creature from outer space that he had described. He was able to draw the three arms, and six hands, but he had trouble fitting eight fingers onto each hand.

He looked up. "Carla?"

"Yes, Bradley."

"Can you see inside monsters?" he asked. "Can you see the 'good'?"

"That's all I see."

He returned to his picture. He drew a black eye in the middle of the creature's face. He drew a red heart inside the creature's chest to show all the "good" that was there.

"Well, how does a monster stop being a monster?" he asked. "I mean, if everyone sees only the monster, and they keep treating him like a monster, how does he stop being a monster?"

"It isn't easy," Carla said. "I think, first, he has to realize for himself that he isn't a monster. That, I think, is the first step. Until he knows he isn't a monster, how is anybody else supposed to know?"

Bradley finished coloring and showed his picture to Carla. "He's a movie star on his planet," he said. "Everyone loves him."

"He's very handsome," said Carla.

"You want it?" asked Bradley. "I mean, I don't want it anyway, so you can have it."

"I'd love it!" said Carla. "Thank you. In fact, I'm going to hang it on the wall right now."

Bradley watched her tack it up. He almost told her she wasn't allowed to put holes in the wall, but he changed his mind.

It was time for him to go back to class.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you next week," said Carla. "I hope you have another wonderful topic for us to discuss."

He started to go, then stopped and turned around.

"Yes?" she asked.

He put his hands on his hips and stared at her.

"Did you forget something?"

He stood and waited.

Her eyes suddenly lit up. She held out her hand and said, "I enjoyed your visit very much. Thank you for sharing so much with me."

He stretched his mouth into a half smile/half frown, then hurried out of her office.