Dear Jade, 13 January 2004
Hello! How are you? I hope that things are FABULOUS and that you’re enjoying the Thebes of the New World. (The reason I call it that is because my English 257 teacher, Rick Farenbacher, called Thebes “The New Jersey of the Old World—where all the gangsters went to dump the bodies.”)
The other day I hung out with Brian Passey…the man himself. I was walking down from Mandy’s apartment and Brian was pulling in. I helped him bring in his groceries. Then he showed me some pictures he took (amazingly talented Mmn!) and some cute pictures of him and Jessica together. Then he cleaned out his closet while I watched a Coldplay DVD. I still think he’s fabulous, but at least I’ve gotten over him! Otherwise, it would have been torture. Actually, part of it was torture: seeing the cute pictures of him and Jessica. Because that evening I’d walked out of my bedroom to the kitchen and found my roommate and her boyfriend hugging. BLECH! I said, “Hey, cut that out! This’s the LIVING ROOM after all!”
I haven’t heard from Pablo, yet—stupid man. BUT tomorrow is when school starts and I’ll be in the Administration building and maybe I’ll see him then. I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I just wish that I’d reach the “saturation point” where I can no longer accept any more stupid men into my heart. The point where no more will fit…you know from chemistry…something like that. I love him—but I HATE him at the same time! We’ll see. Maybe I’ll see him tomorrow and he’ll smile at me with those bright blue eyes with the little wrinkles around them and I’ll forgive him completely. Maybe he’ll say something wonderful and I’ll forget I was even upset in the first place. I can still hope. In fact I can officially still hope because I’ve 10 months until my “give up hope completely” birthday…then I’ll give up, buy a cat, and start eating icing straight from the can and watch my butt slowly expand.
Speaking of my butt (J-Lo, not Jell-O) this semester has been a pain in my butt already. One teacher has written to the class to tell us all to get writing because he wants stories turned in on the 21st to be reviewed on the 28th. Then I screwed up and accidentally signed up for English 257 instead of 258 and am having a struggle to add the stupid class. Well, they just have to let me because I’m graduating in May. Do you think if I tell them that I know Brian Pitcher it would do any good? Maybe I’ll have to talk to Mr. Pitcher and have him stick up for me.
On the wall at Mom’s house is a picture of me from 1991. I kept putting off getting a new one because I didn’t want to go pose for pictures. But I’ve finally found a photographer I feel I can trust: my nephew-in-law, Casey Dean! Perhaps this way I can get some nice photos without feeling intimidated by the photographer. (If Casey tries to intimidate me—which is a funny thought in and of itself—I’ll just tell him, “Hey, be nice, or I’ll get Linda!” Then I’m sure it’ll be fine.) In the spring—warmer weather for outside picture—I’ll drive down to Pocatello and he can take my picture. Then I can have a photo from this millennium on Mom’s wall.
January 14th 2004: Today’s the first official day of school. And it’s started off with an omen that I haven’t decided is good or bad. My very first class of this brand new semester has been cancelled. My teacher’s out of town and we won’t start that class until the 21st. Well, I don’t mind having a whole week before class starts, but at the same time I’m not sure if it’s a good sign. Granted he’s my screen writing teacher and he’s out of town working on a production, which give me faith in his ability to write. But what if he’s gone a lot this semester and I don’t learn anything. That would suck. So, that means my first class is at 1:30 and it’s the class I want to drop as soon as I get English 258 squared away. Then I also have English 492 this evening at 6:00. I’m also heading to the Admin to talk to Sherill. What if I don’t see Pablo? What if I see him and he doesn’t care? The only way to know what will happen is to go and see what will happen. ACK.
Well, here’s what happened: I dinked around talking to Sherill until Pablo came in (Sherill saw him, I had my back to the door) then I went down and talked to him. I had all butterflies in my stomach and such, but as I talked to him, instead of getting more excited they all settled down in a kind of “What were we excited about—eh? I seem to have forgotten” tone. I asked about his vacation and such. We talked a bit. Then the new Spanish teacher came in…and either her name is Monica, or he introduced me as Monica. I’m not really sure. Why doesn’t my brain pay better attention! Maybe I don’t have good hearing…but mostly I think it’s my brain. So, anyway it boils down to this: 1) I wasn’t as excited to talk to him as I thought I’d be, 2) He didn’t seem all that excited to talk to me (he kept yawning, maybe he’s just tired) and 3) he might have introduced me as Monica.
Because of my ranting about my brain, here’s The Prayer for the Absentminded: Dear Lord, please help me to concentrate on just one…oh, look a bird!
I told Christina about the whole Monica thing and she, being the brilliant person she is, looked up that the new teacher’s name is Monica. Which is good. But still bad. That means Pablo didn’t introduce me at all. I don’t really know if he even knows how to pronounce my name! I know it’s a difficult name for people, especially if they happen to see it written down…it confuses them and they start doubting how they thought to pronounce it. I think I’ll go up to him and tell him that I have two classes with two different boys both called Micah and this will be the first time that I haven’t been the only Maaike in a class so that when the teacher says “Maaike” I think it’s me, but it isn’t. Then after having repeated my name three times I’ll say, “So, how do I say ‘My name is Maaike’ in Spanish?” That’ll be four times. Then he’ll have to know.
I talked to my friend Daniel, in England. He’s so very funny! We laugh and laugh together all of the time. We decided that a way to break the ice in a foreign country is to say, “So, have you got cottage cheese here?” We think the first place to try it out is Chechnya…so, if you’re ever there give it a try. Then he said that grading papers was a pain in the bum. Literally a pain in the bum because you have to sit there while grading. And I said, “Poor bum…and it’s such a cute one” to which he responded: “I like to think so…and not a thing like cottage cheese.”
Well, so now I’ve talked about my bum and Daniel’s bum. How’s your bum? I’ll try not to turn this into the bum letter and move on to something more high-class.
High-class…high-class…nope, can’t think of anything. Ah! I watched “Nicholas Nickleby” at Mandy and Leah’s house the other day. It was quite good. Jamie Bell is a fabulous actor for how young he is. I think Charles Dickens is about as high-class as I can get at this point.
I’ve decided to spend Spring Break in England visiting Daniel. I’m going to try to find a job there and live there for a year or two. I don’t know what kind of job I’ll find, but I’ll do my best! Maybe I’d better head down to cooperative education and talk to them about working overseas. I’ve talked to them before, and as they are all mostly students I doubt whether they are very helpful. I don’t have a lot of confidence in someone who has a job on campus telling me how to find a job in the real world! In the meantime I’ll see what I can find on-line. I’m going to try to get Daniel to take me to Glasgow, Scotland. Because I love Billy Boyd. And that’s my only reason. I want to go to the city he grew up in and take a bunch of pictures. And I want to go to the Wee Store. I’ll have to look up the address of it. Anyway, that’s the plan. Who knows what will really happen…but if I go I’ll send you a postcard!
January 20, 2004: Well, today I talked to Pablo after having a very heated discussion with the voices in my head. “Go talk to Pablo” they’d say. I’d say “NOPE!” Then they’d say, “Just give him a chance.” I’d say, “A chance to be a poop!” And then they said, “Just do it!” and I said, “Fine!” and I went down to his office and he was actually there…and as I walked in he said, “Hi Maaike!” and smiled a very happy smile. So they said, “See, I told you!” and I said, “Too happy to argue.” It’s official…I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with Pablo and all it took was a smile. In the mean time, it’s fabulous to be in love again with a real man…not a movie star.
Ok, I’ll let you go. Have fun and stay out of trouble…although the one does sometimes cause the other…