As you may or may not know, this journal is mostly friends-locked. If you would like to read this blasted thing, comment here and I'll add you. Or languish in silence.
Love,
Aries
The backlogged road trip is now over! Still to come: Dallas, NY, Obietown!
Onwards!...
We stopped at Hope, Alabama, birthplace of President Clinton and strolled around. While walking, Yoshi and I had a heated talk on small town living. At first, I lauded them, a bit too strongly. And as we move towards the cold, steel talons of the real world… the closeness of a village is a lovely thing.
Yoshi questioned me: citing the slowness, the insularity and the backwardness. It would be hard for us to find “our people” in nearly any small town. They sold a unicycle in the Hope Bike Shop… but a single unicycle does not make a circus.
( Read more... )
After dinner at IHOP (strawberry pancakes drenched in diabetes-sweet syrup), we went to the casinos: Sam’s Town, Horseshoe and Boomtown. There were a few surface differences between them, mostly in the uniform of the waitresses. Questions were: How pretty were they? How tall were they? What was the color of the waitress costume? Did the skirt end with the thigh, or did the fabric slide away as the ass was finishing its final rotation into the pelvis? How much junk was packed into that trunk?
As we spent more time in the casinos, I felt my disgust grow and grow. Not at the players, but at the structure, which enabled addiction. Pure addiction. The casinos allowed cigarette smoking, had little lights on each machine to allow patrons to order drinks while they played the slots, chatted up high-rollers…. it’s all good business, but to a foul end. The slot machine customers resembled cows at a feedlot.
Given my own associations with addictive behavior, I felt queasy and overwhelmed. The “Requiem for a Dream” theme rang through my ears. Although these were apparently bottom-of-the-barrel places, it was nice to see what remained when the glitz washed away. Gambling in the raw.
We watched one guy play a “sexy” slot machine game for a while. Most of the symbols seemed arbitrary, hearts and diamonds, with one figure of a foxy cartoon chick. He kept playing and playing. I couldn’t even see when he won – most of the lines seemed irregular, and it was unclear which figures were wilds. The machine behind Yoshi and I made a huge noise whenever anyone did anything to it, and all loud, heart-popping jingles. The sound, coupled with the flashing lights and the smell of smoke and booze, made my head hurt.
Yoshi, who had been to Vegas, wasn’t as revolted as I. He played one slot machine based on “House of the Dead” and made $30. While I’m glad he won, and I don’t begrudge him for playing… I was fine avoiding it.
It was a smart system, Yoshi noticed. All of the slot machines were more of less the same, and as computer systems, it would only take a few adjustments in code to make a completely new game. Slap a new plastic cover on it, and it would be done. The Scream game becomes the Blair Witch game becomes the Hostel game, all on the same piece of hardware.
I was happy when we left.
The job search is one of the most stressful experiences I’ve ever had. The only time I’ve ever felt so confused and overwhelmed was writing my college applications.
( Read more... )
While doing homework, I procrastinated on the jobs site at the Chronicle of Higher Education. I applied for admissions jobs at a few of the big liberal arts colleges, places where my interning skills would be good preparation. In between dealing with circus-related shenanigans, I looked up common interview questions. When I was jogging, I asked myself in “Interview Voice,” “Miss Indenbaum, how would you describe your strengths and weaknesses to the esteemed selection committee?”
All the fancy guidebooks I borrowed from Career Services said that of one’s many flaws, one should choose the one that could double as a strength.
My tactlessness… was honesty! I kept it real!
My stubbornness… was grit! I persevered through obstacles!
My eccentricities… made me distinctive! I’m an individual!
When I was trying to get into college, there was a clear timeline. I knew that by mid-March, I would know the results of my January application. In April, I would visit schools and by May 1st, it would be done.
But when I sent out my job application, I didn’t know when I’d get the call back. Or the post card telling me to be patient. My calls went to overbooked secretaries who told me to wait it out. When I looked at my graduation date, I felt the bile within my stomach rise. I needed a job soon.
There was one job I was really excited about: the Communication Fellowship at Oberlin. As a fellow, I would maintain the Blogs (that you read right now), manage the Stories Project , and do a lot of the web content management. Unlike the other jobs, it wasn’t painful to write my cover letter or edit my resume.
In my spare time, I was already spending time at Communications, working on a Creative Writing Anthology with Harris Bard Lapiroff, Internet/Arts/Design Mastermind. For reference, Harris is one of the most charming people ever invented.
Harris, on the job!
( Read more... )
On Interview Day, I felt horrible. The butterflies in my stomach were kicking up a hurricane across the tubes of my intestines. I accidentally arrived too early, mistaking 10:30 at 10:00. I paced outside, chewing down a pack of Rolaids.
This was weird -- I give interviews on a regular basis. For months, I’d asked high school seniors why they wanted to go to Oberlin, what they did in their spare time, what they wanted to do after college. I assumed that I would be cool when the shoe was on the other foot. Besides, I knew these people, I’d worked for them. I should be fine. Totally fine.
As I shook hands with my interviewers, my stomach whimpered. Sweat trickled down my neck.
There were four interviewers: Ben Jones, Cary Foster, Lillie Chilen and Shane Macdonald. Imagine the Fantastic Four. Now imagine them asking you how you’d work within the structure of the Justice League.
Clobbering time, noob.
I don’t remember much of the interview. Sadly, they didn’t ask me my strengths and weakness. I would find out the results during the Wednesday of Senior Week.
And you know how that went.
Do you have a tumblr? Or a twitter?
If so, would you feel kind enough to comment with a link to yours, if we are not already following one another? I am:
http://go-aries-go.tumblr.com/
http://twitter.com/iAries
Mirrored Blogs:
(for facebook):: http://go-aries-go.blogspot.com/
(for college):: http://blogs.oberlin.edu/Aries.shtm
--
Things I learned recently, descriptions to come:
- Benadryl is a sedative! I don't like sedatives!
- Fireworks in Oberlin were shockingly great!
- I really like the summer crew.
- Visitor from out of town made me feel at home.
Love,
Aries
But in summer, Oberlin slows down. There’s still a few amazing festivals, like Juneteenth and the Chalk Walk, but the fast-paced vibe of campus eases. It’s a sleepy little town. The most exciting thing happening right now is a bagpipe conference.
After a long, stressful semester, I love that.
For a day or two.
But with a full week with nothing to do? Yoshi and I looked towards Cleveland.
Great Lakes Science Center + Cleveland.
( Read more... )
At a display on Salmonella, there was a space for visitors to write questions they had after viewing information. While waiting for Yoshi, I added these questions:
“Will Salmonella help me lose weight?”
“Is Salmonella sexually transmitted?”
“When was Salmonella invented?”
“Can I buy Salmonella at Target?”
The second we left the building, we were on Lake Erie, next to a maritime museum. We held hands and watched the seagulls destroy some fish.
From there, we headed to University Circle… And promptly got lost. The map indicated a park bordering the road to University Circle, but it didn’t say what that street was called, nor did it have any nearby streets labeled. So, when we left the road to find a place to park, we got really lost, driving up and down residential roads. Mercifully, the park hugging the road was lovely. It hosted a row of “culture gardens” - statues and alters with fountains.
Meanwhile, the collective blood sugar in the car was sinking, making navigating and communicating more complex. Yoshi’s voice gets flatter when he’s tired, while I start to make less and less sense. We go to our poles. I become Delerium, Yoshi becomes Squall .
vs.
Aries: Germany, Estonia, India, Ireland. The world is so big in Cleeeeeveland. The grass is just so super-green. I could wrap a tree in it and call it good.
Yoshi. Yes.
Aries: Can we stop now and walk through the cultures? I want to see Latvia. Anna’s from Latvia. I hope they have bears.
Yoshi: Parking.
Aries: What time is it? I can’t find my cell. I hope I didn’t drop it in the lake. Let’s go swimming with the duckies…
Yoshi: Food.
Given our hunger, we decided to pass on the culture gardens for a bit and try to find some food in University Circle. Despite staring at a map for a few minutes, we walked the wrong way for a bit too long. Then, we trailed up Euclid and got to Case Western Reserve. Despite having been to Case twice, I had no idea what I was looking for. There seemed to be no food despite the collection of awesome buildings, museums and hospitals. It was an odd campus – I loved the buildings, but it seemed to weird that huge streets ran through the whole thing.
Awesomely geeky garbage cans! Yeah, CASE!
We finally found a strip of restaurants. A cop was going into the pizza shop. We quibbled about whether he was busting someone or whether he was hungry. There was a Chinese restaurant, a deli, a Starbucks… out pickings were slim. We looked across the street and in the same breath said “Felafel?”
Mediterranean food is a rarity in my life and as a long-time vegetarian, hummus is a joy I cannot eat enough of. That said, I didn’t have high expectations. The place itself was not so gorgeous, filled with plenty of plastic tables. The ketchup packets stuck to each other. There were only a few people in the restaurant. The place seemed… greasy.
Yoshi got a lamb kebab; I got the cabbage stew. Both dishes were frighteningly great. The soup was flavorful without being too rich, the vegetable delicious. Yoshi’s kebab was excellent; the pitas offered were light and tangy. Later, we discovered that we stumbled into one of the best restaurants in Cleveland; Falafel Café was rated in the top five restaurants in the city for the past few years. While I went to the bathroom, Yoshi spoke with owner-chef who was from Beirut. “Of course Lebanese food is great!” he announced, “Why else would you go to Lebanon?”
Hunger eased, we walked through Case, past the museums, and to the Culture Gardens, where we wandered around for over two hours.
Highlights:( Read more... )
We didn’t realize the sun had set until the park was dark and the moon was high. Tired out, we strolled back to the car and drove back to Oberlin. A great day. High five, Cleveland.
( Read more... )
"And yet I feel that the most real home I'll ever have is the space where our roads merged and traveled along together."
I miss you so much.
Adventures?
Travel?
Classes?
Job?
Recent cool discoveries?
xoxo,
Aries
We spent three hours at the Clinton Library & Museum. In high school, I watched “The War Room” for my AP Government class, as well as old election footage from 1992. I developed huge crushes on James Carville, George Stephanopoulos and candidate Bill Clinton. But in my fantasies, I didn’t want to kiss those guys. I wanted to BE those guys. Going to this museum was like going to Disneyland for me.
The museum was supposed to look like a bridge to the 21st Century… but actually resembled a giant trailer. Aesthetics aside, the building was eco-friendly, using local materials and energy-conscious architecture. Most of the information was conveyed through a timeline with pictures, text and video. To drive points home, there was plenty of repletion between written displays and film.
They had replicas of the Oval Office and the Cabinet, which were surprising unattractive. The Oval Office felt cluttered to me, chocked with americana. The saving grace was a moon rock. During a heated discussion, Clinton would occasionally gesture to the stone, saying, “Hold on here – that rock there on that table is 3.6 billion years old – we’re only here for an instant – let’s get some perspective on this thing.”
The museum presented a glowing review of Clinton. Back in the day, government fought for change and the betterment of all people: reducing crime, increasing prosperity, supporting technological advances…. Under Clinton’s leadership, America wasn’t just a superpower,
we were a superhero.
Given the trends of the Bush years – limitations on science and technology, inept handling of the explosive economy, two unfinished wars, few achievements made… I can’t imagine how I would conceive of my country if I were born five years later.
Sadly, the museum didn’t touch on any of Clinton’s failures. There was scant mention of the impeachment proceedings, the massive investigations, the flaws of NAFTA, DOMA, or “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” His innovations in finance laid the groundwork for our current economic flummox.
We didn't see any note on this lady either.
( Read more... )
Looking at the map, we spotted Texarkana and Shreveport, and aimed for them.
Memphis is famous for meat. ( Read more... )
Interruption of Overarching Theme: Sun, Water, Sugar.
They governed our lives.
From there, we went to the abandoned arena. It was a pyramid. Apparently, they built a new one and just left the old one behind, like a refrigerator on the side of the road. Soda cans and snack wrappers pooled by the entrances, mulched with old leaves and pigeon shit. Homeless people, the lichens of the city, had taken root there.
All of the doors were locked. The brick wall was fake; Yoshi dented it with a tap. Everything was covered in dust. Despite my sleepiness, I loved this weird relic. It reminded me of the pyramid from Stargate, though it bore closer resemblance to the many shuttered and darkened shorefronts scattered thoughout the country.
“Why isn’t anyone using it?” I wondered.
“What can you do with a pyramid? The land here must be expensive— it must be impossible to find a buyer.”
Yoshi, as ever, was right. We were down the block from a row of hotels. There was a river to our left and city hall to our right. Pricey turf.
Still, as we left, I hoped some newfangled Charles Foster Kane would make the place his Xanadu.
Given lunch’s disappointment, we didn’t get barbeque. We aimed for Wang’s, but we had to walk to the car to refill the meter. By then, we were far from the Wang. We found ourselves at the second best Indian restaurant in the city, which provided adequate foods. And from there, we drove.
We had bad hotel luck that night. But eventually, there was sleep.
While Nashville was cool, it’s not the best thing when the first part of your day is the best. Free breakfast was hard to beat; but the Parthenon was even cooler.
Nashville, for some ridiculous reason, has a replica of the Parthenon. Both Yoshi and I knew a bit about its arrangement, structure and purpose. That said, the coolest thing was definitely the size. The damn thing was huge. Really, freakin’ huge. We walked around it, and around the surrounding park, filled with joggers slogging through the heat.
According to the City, Elliston is a “young, trendy neighborhood.” We headed there hopefully, anticipating folks who had tattoos and liked The Magnetic Fields. There would be bicycles! Vanderbilt students carrying copies of Proust! Older folks playing chess with younger kids!
Not so much. Nope.
( Read more... )
By 2:00 PM on Sunday, we finished cramming the Camry with the contents of Yoshi’s life. He shipped a few boxes home, but the essentials went with us. The trunk and backseat were packed tight; my knapsack and messenger bag mortared in the few remaining spaces. Though the trip was easy to navigate, we got a bit lost getting onto Interstate 71. We missed a ramp, putting us in the middle of Amish Country, complete with buggies, hills and pie shops. Still, we managed to get back onto 71 and speed off through Cincinnati.
We only took a single detour, to Lake Jericho. Given the biblical link of Joshua and the Battle of Jericho, I thought it’d be a kick to introduce Yoshi to his signature battlefield. Y’know back from when Joshua was God’s Enforcer, spying out Canaan, raising a path through the Jordan River. Joshua the Badass, the Ghengis Khan of the Middle East. …. Yoshi was less amused.
We drove up to the gates, but saw a visitor fee. Lame. So, we decided to park further back and just hiked up the hill to get to the lake ourselves. The grass on the hill grew high, all the way up to my hips. Thistles and pink flowers tickled my legs. The lake was huge, with families fishing on the shore. There was a dock floating towards the shore; I wanted to swim for it, but thought better of it.
We got to Louisville late, so had little chance to re-explore. We had been to the city before during the Great Mammoth Cave Road Trip, so we just retraced our steps.
We drove down Bardstown Road, the alt/indie section of town. It’s flush with small, weird stores, amazing restaurants and folks around our age. Tattoos and band tee-shirts abounded. Then, we got dinner at the on-site brewery/bar we ate at before. Nostalgia tastes good.
One of the most painful moments of the trip was driving down Bardstown, taking us from a cool, friendly neighborhood to strip mall America. McDonalds – Wendy’s – KFC – Bank – Gas. And repeat, with huge parking lots in front of each franchise. On a jog, I got to an abandoned cinema and ran around the parking lot once or twice because there were no sidewalks on the strip. There’s no need for sidewalks. You drive, then sit, and then drive again. You don’t walk here.
This irritates me.
( Read on for turkeys, abandoned distilleries and bourbon )
--
Aries,
We need to replace one of the candidates on the Final Class Trustee Ballot. You are next in-line determined by number of votes received during the April Preliminary Election. Are you still interested in being on the final ballot?
Thank you,
Pam Pierron
Executive Assistant to the General Counsel and Secretary
--
More information to come! I'm in Texas, safe and sound, at Schonborn Haus.
Recent Discoveries:
- I dislike casinos.
- There is excellent BBQ in Little Rock!
- Things Yoshi likes: sculptures, graffiti, big things.
I'm sorry, Juno fans. I like the song about Giants but beyond that... I get drowning cat noises from the rest of it. I'm glad we had this talk.
(Please let me not become a tool.)
Yoshi and I are going on a Road Trip from Oberlin, Ohio to Dallas, Texas. Any suggestions of places to stop? We're going though, Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas and North Texas.
Know anything cool in any of those states? Are you from any of these states and have awesome memories from your childhood/life?
Things we like: cool music/book/oddball stores; science; architecture; nature; strange museums... or whatever you like is awesome! (Affordability is a plus. Weirdness is the best.)
But Oberlin students don't really do traditional. I had no idea what to expect.
We got up at 6:30, leaving the house close to 8, so we could get our placement card in time (the placement office closes at 8:30). Then, we did nothing for a while. I got some coffee. Walked around. People-watched. Only about a third of the school wore caps and gowns. More folks wore caps, some decorated the tops. Some folks were really fancy, dressed in prom-best. Most folks I knew wore simple dresses, suits, button-down shirts. Yoshi wore a suit and a top hat.
And me?
Wednesday of Senior Week, Conversation with Beloved Parents:
Mom: What are you going to wear?
Aries: Uh. I don't really know. I don't have time to buy a dress.
Mom: You don't have time to get a dress? I thought you were done with finals now.
Aries: Guys, circus. Circus every day. No time to take a scenic trip to score a dress. I'll look nice. I got a few dresses from the swap.
Mom: ... all right.
Dad: No cap or gown? There's going to be a lot of photos.
Aries: No.
Mom: Wear what you want--
Dad: Just don't do it naked, okay?
The next day, I looked at Weather.com. Sunny, they predict. Warm, they say.
Perhaps... a sun dress?
Sundress. Not a shower curtain.
( Read more... )
Jeez. It all piled up at the end: circus, anthology, storytelling, recital, movie, final.
I handed in a lot of writing today, probably about 170 pages, if it were all double spaced. 2 novellas and some odds and ends.
It all seems fuzzy now. Very fuzzy.
To do now:
- clean house
- do laundry
- hug Yoshi
- hug other people who are leaving
- dance
- put on a circus
- buy a graduation dress
- graduate
I didn't want to do a senior reading.
Still, I wanted to showcase my work. A lot of writing majors do! I don't talk about it all the time, but I do write, and I do love stories. How better than by doing a storytelling show?
One problem: I have terrible performance anxiety. Utterly terrible. Back when I used to sing, lyrics would escape out of my brain before I got a chance. The larger the audience, the worse the stress.
Black and white movies: a scary time.
Generally, I'm a really confident, extroverted person. Giving tours, leading meetings, giving notes for groups up to 100 doesn't freak me out. It's not people, or public speaking: it's performing.
( Read more... )
The gym seems fuller than it was a week ago, as if it soaked up all the energy and music and pratfalls, lights and laughter. Everyone worked together. Everyone made it work. 99 people made it happen.
"Will Work for Circus" was great. Really freakin' great.
We packed the bleachers, night after night, squishing in 500 people per show. That'd be an audience of 1,500 in all. Including President Krislov, Elizabeth Houston and Ben Jones. There were 99 people in this year's circus -- performers, musicians, composers and tech folks. 120 counting the kiddie circus on Saturday and ushers.
The circus followed the job search of our Hero. Hero, played by Chris Sherwood1, was hapless, silly, prone to falling on his face and humiliating himself in front of people in power. Hero had a playmate, the Trickster, an all-around "catalyst for mayhem". Though she initially crashed the stock market, Trickster became an ally to Hero as the show went on. When he went for his interview, she spruced him up.
Chris and Izzie in real life. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.
( Read more... )
This makes everything even more exciting than normal.
I'm so freakin' excited.
Insurance:
One of the most amazing, physically demanding circus arts is aerial rope. Due to some incredible luck, we've had a resurgence of aerial rope on campus, thanks largely to Terry Crane, who taught a Winter Term project on the skill. Terry is an alumnus and a professional rope artist. He teaches at SANCA when he's in Seattle and otherwise travels the world, often upside down. He was an environmental studies major.
( Read more... )
I spent the bulk of yesterday outside, moving things from Hall Auditorium, Warner, Wilder, Rachel's house, and Mike's quad to Philips Gym. We loaded flats, platforms, masonite, lights, dimmers, powertools, and props. Eric hung the rope. Ed got stands for the musicians. Today, we build.
Amanda, our TD/Personal Deity, has been phenomenal. She's painted, planned, and pulled together a gigantic project.
Yesterday, it was 80 degrees and sunny. To avoid sweating and paint stains, I wore a sports bra and a skirt. Result: my sunburns are epic. I've never been so aware of my Norwegian genes. It's mostly my lower back, so whenever I move my shoulder blades, I feel it. It's a nice tingling.
PS: Comfort Eagle by Cake? A superior song.
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