the phenomenon of a loose tongue
��������� �����the polarity shift that always occurs during a move, taking a toll. exacting a direct amount of change from me - fifty cents worth of sanity, please! - i packed. the corner of my room is filled with crates, boxes, errata. i have so .. much .. shit. it's annoying to me to be bogged down by so much shit. but i can't really do too much about it ... there are huge, heavy boxes.tonight in the calmative evening, i lugged nate's boxes from his room to his car over at phillipi hall. felt good to do some of that work, and now i'm staring at this screen again, at this phone again. three hours to kill before the commencement. the portland civic centre. or something. i'll be deadtired. but oh well.
today i met tony shalhoub. he came to speak with us, and some six of us took part in a photoshoot with him. it was nice. quick, advertising, but nice. they had us wear USM sweaters from the bookstore during the shoot. was ... odd. then he talked and answered questions for about an hour - "to me, as corny as it sounds," he said, "it's all about .. getting there. it's the journey that matters, you know - getting from level, to level ... it's not the success that matters to me, it's not the goal. i just keep trying new things. the goal's not important ... and i hope i - never ... get there."
to which we responded with a standing ovation. he'd said that grades ... honestly don't matter so much. they do, but they don't. that the "schmoozing" that we're supposed to do as the "business" - you know, networking? - is bullshit, mostly ... or so he says. and it was so nice to see him so downtoearth. afterwards, at the seventh floor of the glickman library in portland, a reception for the man. i remember saying "it's good to have someone as down-to-earth as you in the business." which may have been cornball. he nodded and said "thanks." and that was that.
later, mind whirling. philosophy not stopping the leak, the pour, a torrent. josie sitting in her room, decidedly one-sided. at her computer. a long talk. questions, standing in the room, in the doorway, framed by the squarishness. thrust into a strange silence here, then there - a laugh, to lighten the load, make it bearable ... questions. so many questions. where's the line between intellectualism and pretension? when is it ok to say something even though you know everyone probably doesn't want to hear it at that moment .. [in the car with anthony and andrea earlier, speakingspeakingspeaking, never shutting up, that whole "mute" thing gone out the window - ]
last night in the quad. dave ciampa, a newcomer, in our midst. jill, amy. erin cleaning in the other room. the "quad" will no longer be there. 423 robie, tonight, but not the final moments. my bed is stripped. the computer's light remains - the walls are bare, the ... lighthearted feeling of sadness? the thoughts are not coming easily tonight. not that there ever was. eyes want to close ...
more laughs at my thoughts tonight. less cynicism. less stupid pauses. maybe i was just less stupid today.
right now i'm staring at the white phone. jason's white phone. "SONY". the window is behind me. i imagine josie's at her computer. or sleeping. i imagine the quad light is still on, and erin is still banging around. i can crane my neck down and see the darkness inside 249 andrews, my old room. across the town and further, portland is lighted on the world's edge.
the summer begins. a new exposition is necessary. i feel tonguelocked right now. this has gone on too long. i have too much .. "stuff". i wish all of those who will not be coming back luck in their endeavours and all that. opening windows and new doors, and all that. three steps forward.
sorry for the prosaics. next time, less drain, more excitement.
see you in 316 anderson. ext. 3989, if you want. good summering to those who will. strawberries and suntans and beachfolk, if you go in for that. otherwise, air conditioning and rotating fans and good summer movies.