Posts in Category: Spring 2004

Losing Touch with Reality

I remember several months ago, I was walking down Van Buren Street, staring up at the el tracks like a dope, and thinking to myself, “I wonder if they actually filmed this in Chicago.” Which I often think of while watching movies that take place in Chicago, so it would have been a reasonable thought if not for the fact that, ahem, it was real life.

I had a similar experience this morning. My parents got me the Alien “quadrilogy” (hereafter “tetralogy,” since I only like to use made-up words when they’re not designed for people who are mentally retarded) for Christmas, so I’ve been watching the movies and documentaries in that collection for the past few days. Consequently, I have aliens on the brain. I haven’t had any nightmares, but this morning I kept having strange stomach cramps, and at one point, I thought to myself, “Oh God, this is it—it’s about to hatch.”

And then I thought, “You’re an idiot,” and took some Pepto-Bismol.

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I had a dental appointment yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal, except I apparently have a tooth with two cavities. My dentist said it wasn’t a big deal, because it was a “non-functioning tooth.” I didn’t specifically like the sound of that, but he reassured me that the tooth, when I bite down, doesn’t connect with any of the other teeth in my head. It merely exists, partially submerged in gum tissue. He said, “I’m going to treat this as a wisdom tooth and recommend an oral surgeon.”

He paused for a second, then said, “Unless you maybe want to go to an orthodontist and get your teeth fixed right.”

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The Search Is On

When I decided I needed to find a new job, I realized I had three options for on-campus jobs right under my nose (listed in order of priority):

  1. Work in the English department’s writing center. I’ve been offered a job there before, more than once (but back when I was uninterested in a campus job), and I thought maybe now I’d try taking it, assuming they still remember who I am. Of course, even if they didn’t, my friend Anne works there, and she generally talks it up. I figured she could put in a good word for me.
  2. Weasel my way into a job in the film department. I’m there more often than I’m in the Wabash building, and the atmosphere is likely to be less irritating.
  3. I was offered a job last semester by a really desperate-sounding lady in the music department who really wanted somebody to act as her part-time secretary in the evenings. My schedule conflicted with hers, so it didn’t work out, but this semester is different, so I may be able to work something out with her.
  4. Pretty much any other job anywhere ever. Honestly, the listing of work-study jobs is pretty huge, and a lot of jobs are offered that aren’t even on the list.

And this is just on-campus stuff! If I decide to get a dreaded real job, my options expand almost as far as the mall.

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The Pitching Class

One of the mega-important classes I’m required to take as a screenwriting concentration deals specifically with the ins and outs of pitching. It doesn’t seem like it’ll be the most challenging class I’ve ever taken, except for one horrible catch: there’s only one teacher, and she was my horrible monster of a Screenwriting I professor.

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The Misadventures of the Pot-Head

I was sort of excited about my experimental screenwriting class, not only because I’d be taking it with the Pot-Head, but because it’s being taught by possibly my favorite instructor of all time. Unfortunately, though, the Pot-Head never showed up. I was asked to call her, which I would’ve done anyway, to find out wassup. It turns out, she managed to fail a class last semester (and an easy class, at that). She adamantly refused to tell the story, but she said she’d talk to the experimental screenwriting professor and see if she thought the workload was feasible on top of this class she needs to repeat.


The topics in literature class is neat. It’s about Spike Lee and August Wilson in particular. As I already noted, Spike Lee is one of my filmmaking heroes. I don’t believe I’ve ever noted that August Wilson is one of my (many) writing heroes.

My sister originally turned me on to his writing; she’s a theatre major, so she reads all sorts of piddling crap that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. When she reads something good, she forces me to read it, as well. As such, I’ve managed to read the majority of Wilson’s plays and a few biographies, and he’s really fucking good.

I’m glad I’m taking this class, even though I have the feeling that when all is said and done, it’s going to have an ending not unlike the one featured in Do the Right Thing.

Small word about Spike Lee. Apparently he’s coming the first week of March, although nobody knows the specific dates. Also, apparently he “hates white people,” which is not at all surprising to me, although I think it’s an oversimplification of his feelings. Chances are, they’ll lock me in a cage before I’m allowed to meet him, but I’ve snuck word to a few people I know on the faculty in the film department, so we may sneak around somewhere.

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