Thursday, May 4, 2000

I saw The Birds on opening night Friday. Aristophanes: ancient Greek comic genius. The S.U.N.Y. Potsdam Drama Department: modern acting geniuses. That's just my little way of saying I really enjoyed it.

It was last Saturday that was lost and unproductive. The evening before I had been feeling a little tired, but I thought it was nothing - it'd clear up by morning and I'd be fine.

I was wrong. Saturday morning found me feeling dizzy every time I tried to sit up straight. Somehow I managed to walk to the library to meet with a group of people for a class project. I wasn't in any condition to be scholarly: I felt like my head was about to float off of my neck.

I went to bed immediately after the meeting was finished. Once under my blankets, the world went weird as fuck. I spent most of the day and evening floating between states of consciousness. At one point I thought I heard little men backpacking across my blankets, as if they were a mountain range. I'm glad I didn't look - taking the chance of seeing them probably wouldn't have been a good thing.

Weird though it may have been, I did get some useful sleep on Saturday. I would have gotten more, but the hall became excessively noisy. I do not know what is wrong with the people I live with, but I'm sure that they were body-slamming each other, along with every door in the building Saturday night.

By Sunday morning I was feeling much better. This meant that I had to go back to my work overload. By this, I mean attending the Potsdam Goodfest concert. I was outside from 11:00 in the morning to 7:00 in the evening so I could write an article about this thing for The Racquette.

Since I had no sunscreen on, I was fairly red afterwards, something that didn't make me happy in the least. Frankly I would have been wearing sunscreen, but my school store doesn't sell any. I think they're under the delusion that everybody can or wants to tan. I'd rather stay pale and cancerless, thank you very much.

While I stayed on the Goodfest grounds for eight hours, my co-editor arrived late and left early. Remember how I said that I really think we can work well together? I'd like to rescind that statement and replace it with, "I can grudgingly tolerate working with her."

Saturday found her to be fucking annoying. Firstly, she arrived late, which is unprofessional. When she got there, one band had already played half their set.

The second thing that pissed me off was her constant "Goth" and "vampire" jokes. I tried to cover myself up as much as possible on Sunday because the sun was beating down, and I was making an attempt to avoid being burned (didn't work). Between band sets, I would lie down and cover my face with my trenchcoat, so if I fell asleep, maybe I wouldn't end up half-red and peeling. My co-editor, delight that she was, made a crack about how "vampires have to avoid the sun" or some other shit like that.

Her third major transgression was leaving early. We were supposed to interview a band together, however she told me that she was too tired to do so, and left. Luckily I found another Racquette staff member that could do the interview with me (not that I couldn't have done it alone, mind you, I just preferred it this way). After I left Goodfest (about an hour after my co-editor), I saw her hanging out in one of the rec.-rooms on campus. So, while she may have been too tired to stick out a concert and do an interview, she still has the energy to play games with her friends apparently.

Monday evening was when WAIH had the redo elections. Once again, I am the music director. I'd better not have to win it another time (well, not until next year, anyway).

Overall, the same people got the same spots. There were some changes though, most notably in the station manager position. In the first election, somebody I wanted in got the position. In Monday's election, somebody I'd rather not see in any executive board positions was elected station manager.

WAIH's former music director is now the station manager. Now, judging by his lackadaisical performance as music director, one would assume that our staff would think twice about giving this guy another important position within the radio station. Apparently this is not the case. So, my prediction is that we'll be going from the ridiculously totalitarian rule of Tippler Girl to a form of toothless fun-boy anarchy courtesy of a guy I'll now nickname CHD.

Tuesday and Wednesday at the beginning of this week found me in the Racquette office doing layout. Nothing really interesting there, just an explanation as to why I didn't update those days.

It's Thursday, which means that today was one of the days that I work in the dinning hall. Now, whoever said that a job in food services was uneventful has obviously never worked a job where the kitchen flooded. Today was the day that a drain backed up, leaving the kitchen in inches of dirty water and the individual dinning units without any way to restock food to be served when it ran out.

Do you know how angry college students become when they can't get chicken nuggets? Upon hearing that my dinning unit was out, and most likely not getting any for a while, twelve students left in a huff. Bye bye - didn't want to see any of you anyway. This relationship is over.

The other thing that Thursday means is open mic at Hurley's. Tonight is the last open mic of the semester. Not only that, but a friend of mine is playing his concept-concert about the suicide of his friend. Furthermore, this is the last time that The Tall Guy may ever play at Hurley's. I sense that there is going to be a bittersweet feeling of closure at Hurley's tonight. Heartstrings will be tugged.