Tuesday, June 29, 2004

o, despair

Today, I managed to spend five hours in the library and leave without a trace of evidence. Well, except the tears I shed as I was walking back to my car. Not too many people have seen me cry, and I like it that way. But I think ol' Phil was a witness to my breakdown. Bless his heart.

Anyway, my 8-10 page research paper is due Friday morning. It's Tuesday night. I've spent the past five weeks apartment hunting, and I was successful. I've spent the majority of the latter part focusing on the job hunt. Not successful, which really makes the time I've spent worthwhile. Ha. But looking objectively, if I wasn't looking for a job, would I have worked on my paper? No, but it makes me feel better to be able to cast the blame somewhere, of course. But I always rested assured that I would be okay because, after all, I am Captian Procrastinator the Victorious, right?

I suppose it would be different if I didn't actually have to read the work of literature that my paper will be over. See, my professor has placed us in quite a predicament: He wants us to argue a thesis over a work that we have not discussed in class by an author that we have discussed in class. Well, we've discussed the authors' prominent works, which would be the only ones that we would be able to find enough scholarly discourse on in our crappy library to write a paper of the length he wants. I thought I had successfully conquered the assignment when I chose to discuss Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Aurora Leigh. I read the fifteen-page poem last night and was pleased with my comprehension of it. It occurred to me today, however, that what I read was only about one-twelfth of the entirety of the poem that is also considered a novel. I decided I was going to read the novel from a Norton publication because it also contained criticism of the work that I would be able to use in my research. Despite RacerTrac's claim that the book was available, it was nowhere to be found.

So essentially, my options are to write a paper about something we've already talked about or about something by an author we haven't. I sat down and read a couple works by different authors, and then I tried to find some articles about them. Why is the majority of the works selected for the second volume of the Norton anthology of English literature obscure, non-criticized pieces of crap? It was at that point of exasperation that I threw my three-thousand-page (no exaggeration) textbook into my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, cried/hyperventilated on my way to the car, and took a drive right out of Murray.

When I finally returned, I decided to make tater cakes, with a new and improved recipe, with my left-over mashed potatoes from last night. I wasn't hungry. I'm still not. But I cooked them anyway. And I somehow managed to turn what I thought was a potato and a half into about twenty five tater cakes. And I'm not eating them. They're so greasy, looking at them alone could send a person into a vehement series of heart attacks. I don't know what I'm going to do with them.

Maybe I could give them to my professor and hope they suffice as ransom for my grade that is perilously dangling over the quicksands of failure. Oh, wait. He's a vegan, and the tater cakes contain eggs. I have no money to offer him. And I think he might be gay, so I cannot do him any favors. Looks like I have some work to do. Farewell.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

the rhythm of a line of idle days

in my ears
room for squares
artist: john mayer
song: great indoors

Quiet times in Murray tonight. Erin has already gone home for the weekend. I really don't have much to do in the way of reading for class. I read two different authors last night for today, but we only got through one in class today. Class was so horrible. I love QMcQ, but today just took the cake. Anyway, I actually should be working on my research paper. It's due a week from tomorrow. Once I get that turned in, I'll be done with ENG 304. Then on Saturday, I get the wonderful pleasure of moving to my apartment. I'm excited about having my own place, but I'm sure the whole moving-out-moving-in process will be a disaster. Things like that always are. But at least all the big stuff will be coming from home. Where I will not be. Moving out of here shouldn't be too bad. I don't have much. But you know how things seem to multiply like rabbits when you try to pack them. It's comforting, though, that I can make as many trips has I want. I don't have to cram everything I own into a vehicle and hope it doesn't pop out as I'm dodging the 293 Deer. This will be a much different move than I've ever experienced, really. And it will be the last move I'll be making for at least a year, if not more.

I had to find ways to entertain myself today. I started by downloading the InTune thing that John Mayer and Paul Simon did. I did my laundry and napped through most of that. Then I had to go to Movie World to return the copies of Benny and Joon and The Life of David Gale that I rented. (Both are very good movies. They're nothing alike, but they're two very fine films. I could see myself buying both of them. Hmmm...) I went to WalMart for a little grocery shopping. I came back, fixed spaghetti, and settled in with John and Paul. (I feel like I should continue by saying, "George and Ringo." Huh.) That was quite enjoyable, but I tell you, I need to figure out how to get those videos to burn to CD-Rs because they are taking up waaay too much space on this computer. I got a little bored again, so I decided to put the cookie dough in action that I bought at WalMart. I don't know why I bought it. I don't need it. Anyway, that freaking oven is a CL. Compulsive Liar, if you don't know. I knew from my burnt brownie brick experience that the setting on it is a little off, but how can I bake cookies that call for 350 at 275 for 8 minutes when they call for 10-15 minutes and they still burn on the bottom? Something is wrong. Hopefully the oven at my apartment will not have such deception issues. After baking the still-edible walnut chocolate chip cookies, I decided to go far a drive. Mom ended up calling me when I was halfway to Hazel, so I talked to her for a while.

That's about all tonight has added up to. Hmmm. That was a really long, boring post.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

searching nine to five

Ryan's. Cracker Barrel. Pizza Hut. Wendy's. Arby's. Hardee's. Quizno's. Subway. Burger King. Back Yard Burgers. Krystal. Kroger. WalMart. Dollar General. Angel's Attic. Student Support Services. Waterfield Library. Pogue Library. Calloway County Library.

What do all these places have in common? I've applied, or at least inquired, to work there, but almost all of them now have my application on file. I've had interviews at Ryan's, Cracker Barrel, and Burger King, and none of those were very promising. I have an interview scheduled for Monday at Arby's. Maybe I could work with Garnez. We can only hope.

Monday, June 21, 2004

long time, no blog

Here I sit, eating my supper: a peanut-butter-and-strawberry-jelly-on-wheat, fried green tomatoes, baked cool ranch Doritos, and a Coca-Cola. There's a story to all of it. I cut my finger slicing the tomatoes, the first batch of which I burned because I had the stove turned up too high. There's no problem with the Doritos, actually. They're somewhat Holly-inspired, and it's a good thing I'm not kissing anyone, right? I'm dining on the PB & J because as I brought my turkey sandwich to my mouth, I realized where the foul odor was coming from. I'll be returning my Oscar Mayer (any relation?) smoked turkey to WalMart here in a bit. Should've stuck with the deli. Ah, and it has just been brought to my attention that the can of Coke that Dad felt the need to buy me yesterday at Kuttawa has snowflakes, Santa, and "Holiday 2003" in the design. Is it just me, or is it June 2004? It is a lovely meal. Really.

After class, I drove around Murray looking for Kentucky Changers. After about an hour and a half of searching the streets for blue porta-potties, I gave up. I was able to find about five work sites, and I stopped at two. One of which did have a few kids from Poole. The other didn't. Exciting times. Eh.

I then went to my "second interview" at Ryan's with Drug-Lord Brad. Somehow, I feel like the brakes have been put on my waitressing career. I did more job hunting and application getting today. Maybe I could just collect those like baseball cards, and one day when I'm unemployed and starving, I can get an estimate of their worth on the Antique Roadshow. Then I'll go about the world trying to sell my illustrious collection of job applications, and when they're finally sold, I'll be a millionaire. You think that's crazy? Well, it's probably more likely than me finding a job.

But enough of my complaining.

You know, I was thinking. A blog is very unrepresentative of the life of the blogger. There are several people's blogs that I read, and I have never met the person. The only means of my "knowing" them is through what they type on their online publication. And every now and then, I feel like I know them. But how untrue. If someone only knew me through my blog, they sure wouldn't know much. There is so much more that goes on in my life and in my mind than what I put on this thing. By reading this, you don't see much of what makes me me. Some things are too trivial to share. Some are too personal. Some, I just don't feel the need. Do not be mistaken, however. I do believe that writing bares the soul. But some days, like today, I choose not to.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

things are looking...up?

I did indeed get the apartment. I'm excited! (Take note. Stress is beginning wear off.) I went and looked at it yesterday morning before class. You see, the apartment I saw when I originally looked at Brentwood was rented before I decided to go with them. My humble abode will be Apt. H. It's much cuter than I remembered. I would post pictures, but I keep forgetting to bring my camera and USB cord from upstairs to download them onto my computer. I also did a little odometrical research, and the distance from Springer to Faculty Hall is the same as from the apartment. Good times. The weekend of the 4th of July is the official move-in date. Two and a half weeks!

Today, I might have landed myself a job at Ryan's Steakhouse. I had my interview, and the manager lady all but told me that I'm hired. She said hiring should end tomorrow, and then they'll go through applications. I need to call on Friday to find out about positions. She even said the words "I'd like to give you a try." She told me what my duties would be and what my uniform should look like. Doesn't that sound promising? I hope so. I need a job badly. We didn't even talk about pay, but I'm sure it'll suck. A lot of people don't tip servers at buffet restaurants, so I'm going to have to "build a clientele," she said. It scares me, of course. Any kind of responsibility does. But I need the work experience. I need the learning experience. This summer holds quite a bit of that stuff.

Monday, June 14, 2004

okay, okay

Hey, look. I haven't posted in a hundred years or so. I suppose I could do something about that.

Holly came down, and we spent the weekend Murraying. (As if I'm not in Murray every day. But just being in Murray and Murraying are two different things, I suppose.) It's sure not the same without everyone (er, anyone) down here, but this weekend was a nice change of pace. We talked about things that require over 10% brain power. And we watched some things, i.e. Blue Collar Comedy Tour and The Stepford Wives, that did not. We pondered the past, as we often do, and we marvelled at the wonders that are our new haircuts. It was a good weekened.

Well, I'm about to seal a deal at 4:00 pm. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I've made an apartmental decision. If all goes well at this afternoon's appointment, I'll be living in a Brentwood apartment come, well, next month. That puts me in a predicament concerning the word I gave Bybee about paying rent for the month of July. But at this particular moment, I don't know exactly when I'll be moving into Brentwood, so we'll see. The more I think about Brentwood, the more I realize it's the choice I need to make. I think the rent is a little high for the apartment itself, but the location makes up for it. I will probably be within a closer walking distance to my classes than I was when I was at Springer. It's not the nicest apartment ever, but I've seen far, far worse. Anyway, who am I to complain? I feel good about this decision. So I called the lady, and I'm meeting her at 4:00. One hunt down, one to go.

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

in place

With your finger you opened up springs and creeks, and dried up the wild floodwaters. You own the day, you own the night; you put stars and sun in place. You laid out the four corners of earth, shaped the seasons of summer and winter.
Psalm 74:15-17

one hundred things

I've seen these things on blogs world-wide, and it's the epitome of loose-association. I'll join the ranks.

1. My name is Cassidy Rene'.
2. I was named after either Shaun or David Cassidy. One of those Cassidy boys.
3. While I was at WalMart yesterday, I overheard an old man picking up his developed film and his last name was Cassidy.
4. So I have a last name for a first name.
5. And a man's name for my middle name because Rene' is the masculine spelling and Renee' is the feminine spelling. Thanks Mom.
6. My mom was 37 when she gave birth to me.
7. I dreamed last night I was pregnant.
8. My sister's pregnant.
9. She is 11 years older than I.
10. I am 11 years older than her daughter, my niece.
11. I had to look up the spelling for niece.
12. However, I consider myself a proficient speller.
13. I missed a word in a spelling-bee once by spelling civilization with an s.
14. There is a girl on my MSN list right now with the word civility spelled with an s.
15. I never talk to her.
16. I only talk to about 20% of the people on my MSN list.
17. Some people I leave on my list for laughs.
18. I believe one of the most exhilarating things to do is laugh.
19. If I'm being super-comical, I'm more than likely uncomfortable in my situation.
20. Some say laughter is the best medicine. I say laughter is my band-aid.
21. For the last week and a half, I've seen a Veggie Tales band-aid stuck to the sidewalk on campus.
22. I sleep with a Veggie Tales quilt every night.
23. My mom made it for me.
24. When I was 18.
25. I'm fairly old for my academic age group.
26. My birthday is October 14, 1983.
27. That makes me 20 years old.
28. And I'll be 21 in four months.
29. That means absolutely nothing to me.
30. I don't drink.
31. I don't smoke.
32. I don't have any rolling papers.
33. The only guys that hit on me are of other ethnicities.
34. Not that I'm racist.
35. I just don't respond well to desperate pick-up lines.
36. And my face probably shows it.
37. I cannot control my immediate facial reactions.
38. But I can hide my feelings for long periods of time.
39. I play "no emotion" very well, too.
40. That stoicism makes me very good on the defensive end of Make Me Laugh.
41. That game reminds me of my cousin Arenda.
42. She's definitely my favorite cousin.
43. And her parents are my favorite aunt and uncle.
44. I love my family.
45. Well, some of them.
46. I'm very much like some of my mom's side of the family.
47. Actually, I'm very much like my mother.
48. Sissy's just like Dad.
49. My sister and I are very different.
50. She's short, and I'm less short.
51. She's a blonde, and I'm a brunette.
52. She's a nurse, and I'm going to be a secondary English teacher.
53. She's very health conscious, and I'm very not.
54. She can sing, and I cannot.
55. She's very stubborn and determined, and I'm a little more easy going.
56. But we do have some things in common.
57. We both graduated 8th grade from Dixon Elementary/Middle.
58. At some point in our education, we were both on the drill team.
59. We both graduated high school from Webster County.
60. We both did the theatre thing in high school.
61. We both did the art thing in high school.
62. If all goes well, we will both have graduated college from Murray State.
63. The older I get, the more I look like her.
64. The older I get, the more we seem like sisters rather than obscure family members.
65. I want to have kids.
66. Rumor has it that I don't like kids.
67. Where there's smoke there is fire.
68. I can spend hours staring into a fire.
69. I'm easily amused.
70. I can just sit and listen to music.
71. I can't believe I'm on 71 and I haven't yet said this. I love John Mayer.
72. I've seen him in concert twice.
73. We're going again in August.
74. He is the first "celebrity" I've been "obsessed" with.
75. It's not just because he's beautiful.
76. He's a wonderful songwriter
77. He's a horrible singer.
78. But he's an excellent musician.
79. I can play a little guitar.
80. But I don't practice enough.
81. Same goes for speaking Spanish.
82. I'm considering getting my MA in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages).
83. But I don't know right now because I am very bad with commitment.
84. I am the worst decision maker you'll ever meet.
85. I avoid making decisions altogether until I have to.
86. That makes me Captian Procrastinor.
87. I've never done much of anything in advance.
88. That's why I have a paper due in two days that I haven't started on.
89. That's why I do not have an apartment for the fall.
90. That's why I do not have a job.
91. Heck, that's probably why I've never dated anyone.
92. Loosely, my theory on relationships might be why have one until you need one?
93. I just say that to make myself feel better about being eternally single.
94. I've never daydreamed about my wedding.
95. I don't know what I want to name my kids.
96. I don't know where I want to live.
97. I only pretend that I know what I want to be when I grow up.
98. I don't want to grow up.
99. But I believe I will be ready to take my life as it comes to me.
100. And I believe everything happens for a reason.

Monday, June 07, 2004


Just in case you are undecided and need a nudge to make up your mind, apartment hunting sucks. I've spent four hours riding around, writing down numbers, calling numbers, and looking at apartments. I've seen three. They range in the strictest categories of wow, mmmkay, and goo gaw a-mighty no. The best one is in a less desirable location, however. It's not exactly close to campus, but it is in a quiet area. Hmm. It's nice, and the price isn't bad. Oh, I'm so bad with commitment. I should just get it, shouldn't I? Yeah, I'll get back with you on that.

So now what? I don't have a job either. I need an apartment before they're all taken. I need a job before they're all taken. I'm in a predicament because I've given my word on paying two months' rent here, but I need to get an apartment for next month instead of waiting until August. Nobody wants to hire someone without work experience. I'm still waiting to see if I'm eligible for work-study. Wah, wah, wah. It'll all work out, right? How about I sleep on it? I think I need a nap.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

potatoes: the authentic cuisine of ireland

I just had a surreal feeling. I got my laundry together to wash, and before I left my room with my laundry basket in hand, I felt the need to look for my Ziploc bag of quarters for the machine. But I don't need it. Such a good feeling.

And the culinary epic continues... Today, I stood perplexed, looking into my skillet, watching my first experiment to go awry do just that. Tater cakes. Or as my cookbook Help! My Apartment Has A Kitchen likes to call them, Mashed Potato Pancakes. Eh, whatever. It was more like Mashed Potatoes Fried And Mashed Again. I'm not good with things you must flip. Well, things that must be cooked from a semi-solid to a solid before they can be flipped. I'm too impatient for that. So after I got back on the horse five times, my sixth tater cake had the decency to at least try to stay together and be one with itself. But oh, the damage I can do with a spatula. It tasted good anyway.

It occurs to me that I need to be taking some pictures. With all the hubbub of getting into the groove of living in an apartment, straightening out the job situation (that remains unstraightened out), and starting class, I somehow managed to not take any pictures, except of myself when I got the haircut. I'm too busy making trips to WalMart for cutting boards, skillets, eggs, and milk. This cooking thing has me enthralled. It just amazes me that I can be hungry, play around on the stove, eat the product, and no longer be hungry. What a novel idea! So I spend time cooking when I'm not even hungry, which is bad. I realize how different Erin (my roommate) and I are. She's a biology major, and I'm an English major. She'll go for a walk or a run, and I fire up the frying pan. But it's going well. We talk a lot. For instance, tonight, we bonded over The OC. She actually got to see all the episodes I missed because of RCC, but neither of us saw the season finale.

Speaking of the delicious Adam Brody, Holly O'Willson called me today from Ireland. It was a pleasant surprise. I almost didn't recognize her because I sure wasn't expecting her to call while she was still traipsing around in Europe. But maybe the seventeen-thousand digits that showed up on my caller ID should have tipped me off.

Well, I'm trying to keep the washing machine functional, and I need to be reading some Wordsworth. Catch y'all on the flipside, homeses.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

dishpan hands

My feet hurt. Cooking and washing dishes suck. Of course, it would probably help if I didn't cook my supper at 8:30 at night. But in an attempt to not eat at fast food restaurants, I have begun adopting culinary skills. Tonight it was mashed potatoes and chicken quesadillas. Okay, so I know that doesn't go together, but I was bent on making the potatoes, and I had the stuff to make the quesadillas, so there. It was good. I'm not sure, but I think there might be an okay cook somewhere inside of me. Anyway, I had a lot of fun buying pots and pans at WalMart. Who knows what tomorrow holds in the kitchen. I might make tater cakes with my left over potatoes. Hmm... Oh, yeah, I also threw together some fruit salad. Sorry about boring you with my adventures with food (sounds kinky), but I'm excited. I've never really cooked. Ever. It wouldn't have been hard to guess if you had've seen my peeling and cutting my potatoes. I gotta work on that.

The job endeavor is looking shaky. The lady called today about Angels Attic, and she said I needed to go to Career Services and see if I'm eligible for KHEAA. Um, that doesn't sound good because if that's the same thing as work-study, I'm almost 100% that I'm ineligible. But I went by and filled out the form anyway and then complimented the ladies who work there because they are the nicest office people on campus I've dealt with. Too bad that won't help my chances of being KHEAA approved. Shucks.

Class was good today. Yesterday, we got out like an hour early. Today, we stayed almost fifteen minutes late. My professor has no clue what time class is supposed to be over, so 12:20 passed and we kept discussing William Blake's Songs of Innocence and of Experience. But that's cool because I like the class, and the summer setting is more laid back. We don't have to rush out to get to another class. But you'd think after being in class for over two hours, we'd be fighting to get out. But I think our professor intimidates us all, so we stayed quiet. He calls on you and expects you to give a logical, meaningful answer and harasses you until you or someone else he's called on does. Today, I answered a question as soon as I found one I knew so that he wouldn't call on me with a question I had no clue about. Thank God I know that unrhymed lines of iambic pentameter is blank verse...

The scenes of summer school are different than the rest of the year. There aren't many people around, but I've discovered that the campus transforms into non-trad heaven in the summer. I've found two non-trad hang-outs. The benches at the corner of the fine arts annex and in front of the Curris Center. I don't know if they're handing out free roller-bags in the Curris Center or what, but they gather there like cows to a watering hole. Yeah, so there's that info just in case you are ever in a dire need to locate a large quantity of non-traditional students.

Well, I've got poems out the wazoo to read, so I better get on that. I'll probably be up a little late 'cause I took a gigantic nap this afternoon. It's good to be back on a good sleep schedule.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

the hair

Here it is. I should really quit posting pictures of myself. I apologize for the torture. Anyway, I feel like this is the best haircut I've ever had. It looks so healthy. *shrills with glee*

goodbye long hair, hello domesticity

It's been a long day. But it's been pretty good. I had my first class, and I think it will be quite interesting. My professor is, um, laid back and liberal. Yeah. But I have a feeling that he'll challenge my thinking a lot. It's about time a professor did that. Isn't that what college is about? Oh, yes, and reading a lot. I have quite a bit to read for tomorrow. That's right. I have class tomorrow. Normally, I just have class on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, but because we didn't have class yesterday, we have to go tomorrow. What's that? Nobody else has to make up for Memorial Day. Oh, well.

So yeah, I ran a bunch of errands, got my hair cut, and grocery shopped. And I mean buying food that you actually have to cook. Since I've been home, I've made my first pitcher of tea, and I am currently letting my rice steam. It's probably burning. Trying my hand at being Susie Homemaker has been going too well.

About my hair. I really got it cut. Like, it's short for me. I'd say it's what hairstyle magazines that you find in the lobby of beauty shops would call medium. Maybe I'll post pictures later. But right now, I need to make sure I'm not burning down the apartment complex.