Wednesday, February 25, 2009

TDC2 loves Optica!

Type Directors Club Winners!

this is my favorite, although I probably would never use it...

Optica Normal by Manuel Guerrero

A Watchful Eye

Track Obama and his Administration thanks to NPR!

Obama Addresses Congress

we voted him in, but lets all make sure he lives up to what he's promised us and the world. our roles as citizens don't stop after we cast our ballots.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


I don't think this picture ever got put up on the blog although it is probably my favorite from new years. sorry for the delay...

Two Poems

Bad Day

I hate falling asleep
knowing that when I wake up
I have to hit the ground running
because soft skinned towheads got me lost
in dark brown sugar and John Carpenter’s
The Thing.
Severe morning sun didn’t rouse me
today and the first thing I think of is
Guy being kidnapped.
Doris Day, we can die alone together!
Hide our gullies of tears under
pancake makeup and in the curls of
well-groomed poodles!

It’s never good to start
the day hungry and forlorn without
time to clear your mind over coffee
or conversation.
My mother tried to please me with
the Wizard of Oz, but I focus more on,
Now, I have to carry this
to the library and to class and back home.
My guts twist like a snapping towel
leaking anxiety.
I sit in the bathroom and read
it looks like my handwriting.

I'm Looking For Something

The clockwork machinery that grinds on all sides between the walls of the great storeroom hums and lurches, causing small vibrations and giving off heat. Usually, short segments of song are played in obsessive repeat divided by dramatic readings of every kind, but now, the intercom is intimidatingly silent.
She’s on her knees arranging the smooth manila folders she has dropped on the old linoleum floor. Only two feet around her is kept illuminated at any time making far-flung folders impossibly missing-- some slipping under grey metal cabinets and wooden fruit crates organized by date & location or theme. The folders are filled with paperclipped portraits and sheets of information, but she is only looking for their names.
She never speaks or has anyone to speak to; the intercom alludes to what’s expected in her constant research and retrieval. There are no lunch breaks, only sleep in the department of People.

Monday, February 23, 2009

I've Been Punk'd

Noah Chilton must go down for what he has done.

I got a drink with another Latin American Studies major, Chris, who is a tall ginger recently back from Chile. The VSA subsidized a happy hour at the Mug, so I got to have some wine and cheese. Woo!

Novice had a nice sampling of bands including 3D Chicks, a Vassar band with James, Harrison's housemate, on drums. It was his birthday, so of course we came out to celebrate. I ended up dancing my proverbial ass off with Dave Wicik who is perhaps crazier at dancing than I am. No. He is. Josh Harmon, my english teacher was there which was cool. Nice to see professors as people and not just the people that assign you readings and papers.

Party at A2 for James' Birthday! Harry and I found ourselves in the kitchen holding hands (because friends do that alright?) and watching the people standing immediately in front of us making out. So much for last grope, huh?

Guy couldn't talk on skype because relatives of the family he lives with showed up and wanted to talk to him. I did not know this at the time and was very upset to have missed our chat time.

we had a fire alarm at the co-op because this dude jon tried to deep fry potatoes and ended up starting a grease fire. At least we have some nice splatter effects in the entry way.

Jacinthe is leaving the house. The dynamic has already changed for the better although it's not because we didn't like her.

I helped some catalyst kids tool around in inDesign so they could lay out a project they began last semester. I'm not going to get too too involved this semester but want to help out and do some design.

I went to an improv dance like... workshop? that a couple of my friends put on every friday and Harry's band, Buffalo drive jammed for us. It was wonderful just to move around and feel my body.

After dance, Noah, Harry and myself went to ACDC for some dinner... and then I was punk'd. here's the dialogue... harry is just walking away to get some dessert.
Noah- You know Harry came out?
Me- What?
N- You heard what I said.
M- Are you serious?
(noah gives me a little look, a glimmer is in his eye)
M- What about Jeanne? Omigod.
N- he didn't tell you about this?
M- No.
N- Ask him when he comes back. he's open about it if you ask him.
(meanwhile my brain is spinning. is harry gay? what? he has a girlfriend! he's had girlfriends!)
M- I guess, I guess I can see it. He wears a lot of scarves.
N- Yeah, I don't know about those bandannas either. I can't believe he didn't tell you last night at the party.
M- He didn't say anything to me.
N- Were you with him last night?
M- Yeah.
N- All night?
M- Yeah.
N- ALL night?
(harry appears and starts to walk towards our table)
M- He did sort of leave mysteriously last night without saying goodbye. omigod? did he leave with someone? Noah!
N- Ask him!
(harry sits down)
Harry- Hey guys. What's up?
N- Maggie. You gotta ask.
H- Huh?
M- Are you gay?
Noah and Harry laugh hysterically. I assumed it was because of the frankness of my question.
H- Yes. I am.
M- oh, ok. That's fine.
H- No, I'm not.
M- what?
N- I can't believe you bought all that!

Harry was not in on the scheme. Noah did it off the cuff after I didn't flat out dismiss his statement. Am I gullible or trusting? At least everyone knows that if you decide to change your sexuality, I'll be totally cool with it. Harry later said he never doubted that fact.

Later that night, Harry and I found ourselves in a kitchen, not holding hands, but still watching two people right in front of us making out. Oh, the symmetry.

Harrison took me shopping.
Got to hang out with Katie Johnson.
Got to hang out with Keke Marquise.
Harry wrote that I was better than you are.

Tried to work although the skies were grey and leaking.

Talked about the festival- we are now Howbowt. I'm working on some ideas and gimmicks. gotta have some merch, you know.

Harrison started to make applesauce. I tried a bite and had to spit it out because it was giving me an acidic nauseous feeling. The solid chunky apples were better.

We had another fire alarm. I won't go into detail.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Fonty Links

I was tripping around this morning waiting for Guy to get online... speaking of which, what's the hold up?... and found these great links:

Yulia Brodskaya does some amazing paper illustrations. I haven't seen this type of work recently let alone so well executed. is just a lot of fun. notice that they use "PLS LUV US" to showcase fonts. haha.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

How Cute

A friend sent this in the notes of a recent Catalyst meeting.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Patron Saint of Beekeepers

Did you know St. Valentine was the patron saint of beekeepers? Considering my relationship with said insect, you would think St. Valentine would take better care of me, but maybe I haven't made enough offerings or prayed enough to his name. Either way, I barely noticed that it was Valentine's day yesterday, only remembering when saying or hearing the words, "happy valentine's" and when I felt crippled by the sorrow of having yet another Valentine's alone. This time, the alone is more insidious than ever. I hold someone in my heart that is more dear to me than anyone before, nevertheless, I have no outlet to express this warm affection. I feel like a soda pop building up pressure- will I explode? will I settle into inaction? can the tension be released slowly? is there anyone skilled enough to do such a thing?

I am used to singledom- looking at faces passing by wondering if I might oneday know their body or their voice in a whisper. The search is what sustains me in absence of the real thing. Yet now, I have the real thing without any of the tangible benefits and only the emotional perversion of loving a ghost flickering through my memories never knowing when I might see him again. It's the uncertainty that is the hardest to maneuver. I have no end-date for my waiting which worries me... am I strong enough? I feel that Guy would wait forever, the wonderful reliable, dependable, steadfast man who loves me. But am I strong enough to do the same? Am I too lazy to actually maintain a relationship? I just want to absolve myself through the role of a victim of circumstance.

After all is said and done, Guy is still the only man I've ever met that allowed my mind to relax and stop asking questions all the goddamn time. He's the only man I've ever truly thought I could spend the rest of my life with. Now if only I could bring us together just by folding the map.

Otherwise, I am lazy. I don't do my work in a timely manner. i guess there is always the excuse of cutting hair and a canceled Monday class. Whatever. Tonight is the night.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Tsechen Kunchab Ling

Things got a little hectic at the end of last week and have just been really looking up in terms of finding a proper schedule/work ethic and lack of work ethic that is keeping me sane at Vassar.

Everything stems from my recent trip to the Tibetan Monastery in Walden.

I ran around like a mad woman after jumping on the chance to visit the monastery for a weekend through the office of field work here at Vassar. Craziest thing, I'm getting a half credit for spending time learning about Buddhism in it's natural setting (I mean, as natural as it gets in the US).

It's an unassuming little place tucked in a semi-rural neighborhood of Walden, NY-- 45 minutes on the other side of the Hudson from Vassar. Tsechen Kunchab Ling used to be an old hotel which, I imagine, was much like a bed & breakfast. Three monks live there, Ani, Llama Kalsang and another llama who I only saw when he was coming to or from prayer that he performed in the early morning and evening times alone in the shrine room with the screens shut between him and the gathering room we occupied. Thupa, the brother of llama kalsang, was a master stone carver who has been making prayer stones for most of his life.

Ani was an American white woman who became a Buddhist nun in her middle age after studying psychology. Her grandfather was a cooper for Vassar brewery before moving to Chicago. Funny how things are interconnected.

side note- Ani is her given buddhist name. I don't know what her original name was.

Only Ani and Llama Kalsang spoke English. The elderly llama and Thupa only spoke Tibetan but knew things like "Thank You" and "hello". Thupa helped a lot around the house and with cooking so he could understand little things from interacting with so many English speakers. Ani could also speak Tibetan and was eager to teach us small phrases.

For the first time, I felt like I reached meditation. Most of the time, my mind is so scattered that I can't focus enough to truly meditate. Being in a place of tranquility allowed me to find a sort of clarity that Vassar does not allow. I was able to take the time to notice the subtler aspects of life- sound especially. Vassar is such a fast paced community that it doesn't allow you time to experience your environment completely. I guess this goes back to how I've been feeling lately about not being given time to fully contemplate the information we are supposed to be learning and forming opinions about.

Harrison helped me hang the prayer flags I made in the trees that are outside my bedroom window. I watch them ripple in the wind, carrying my prayers over the land.

I'm trying to maintain the composure I've attained while being away. One of the guys that went on the trip, Abby, and I were talking about how friends have said we seem different. Harrison said detached but it definitely isn't that.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Self Portrait as Landscape

Yellow-painted steel hurdles two
rivers flowing, destined to be one.
Masonry peeks from under
blacktop on one-way streets.
You can always tell where
the ironworkers lived.

Night has fallen in Greece
on our first day off the ferry.
There are a few other RVs
in bundles along the seashore
that, like us,
come from Bavaria or Italia.
We place our clothes on the
high tide line and run
for the glittering black sea.
I can see my toes beneath me
and the pale bodies of
German women bobbing,
laughing to be on holiday.

Moving up the base of a pine,
Snaking through branches older
than I am and stronger too.
A childlike song played by
laughter and scrapping wood.
Looking out to see rooftops
or the sacred valley of Peru.

My grandpa plays the Sound of Music
on long car rides bouncing between
longitudes on the Pennsylvania turnpike.
Back and forth through cutaway hillside
exposing the layers of folded rock
and hometowns amongst the valleys
of the autumn Alleghenies.

We lie in the shallows as wind
whips over our blushing bodies
making waves on the briny gulf.
Vagabonds cutting limes for chelas
while dusting away the peppery sand.
I stop to pick up colorful relics between
the beached fishing boats and cangrejos.
Over the dunes, there is a small gorge where
we watched bats escape into twilight.
This is the place where Cortes landed.

It’s 635 AM and I am awake.
In twenty minutes, I get up to smoke a cigarette
and walk outside in the crisp winter air.
I know that you will be asleep
while I pace looking upwards
at the tender blending of vibrant pastels
in the morning sky. A crow
sounds from an opposite tree.

I wrote this for my composition class.

Poem After Frank O'Hara

I can’t believe you’re gone
sometimes although I can’t
imagine you here surrounded

by late winter snow &
vagabond beats I’m not
sure but know you’d enjoy

Even Jes has dreams that
you never left I’m jealous
she gets to see you

in motion while I comb
memories in broken Spanish
of space whales & cameras

& the first time we kissed
interrupted by dreamy Lidia

looking out wondering if
the dog was living up to
his name Now I find

myself next to someone I
once called mine (though
he never was) missing

the thrill of being a lover
wrapped in down comforters
& flesh softer than fabric

painfully knowing that only
you bring me peace
& never confusion

and now, something from emily...

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Post-Crazy Friendship

Harrison and I had, I think, our first ever civil discussion of what happened last year. Essentially, it was a combination of horrible timing and miscommunication. I feel a lot better now having aired my grievances, stopped victimizing myself and just let go. It should be interesting to see how we evolve as friends now. I'm an upfront person and Harrison is, well, not; so, I guess we'll see how we live in the "post-relationship/crazy" and how we address the past. I think the only time I was ever active in being friends with Harrison and the only time I was really myself to even be friends with before coming back this semester was before my dad's heart attack and definitely before the whole locked door scenario. He apologized.

There is one of the most beautiful cardinals that I have ever seen sitting on a branch outside my window. his color is an orange red, a slight touch of pink and soft browns blend on his wings.

Maggie 4.0 has been a bust so far. Vassar is a difficult mistress when it comes to getting shit done in addition to the shit I'm already having trouble getting done.

speaking of which...

Monday, February 2, 2009



"I'm Set Free"; Happiness in my Hometown.

The Steelers won their sixth superbowl tonight. Whooppeee! There are probably some riotous, enthused PGHers hitting the streets in celebration. Is this one for the other thumb?

Steve Reich's percussive compositions are sick. Jake needs to check the Nagoya Marimba out! I could just see Jacob Roger Andrew slapping mallets on the marimba with the likes of those percussion professionals.

I'm in a weird library-induced dream state. I spent a lot of today with Harry and Noah. They are two lovely boys. I love to hear about their lives.


Sunday, February 1, 2009


Last night was the one year anniversary. Guy and I, admittedly, don't have a remembered date when it all began. But this anniversary is not exactly a cherished one for me like it would be with Guy... this anniversary has me getting tipsy off handmade mimosas and unloading everything suddenly to Geneva. I feel that she and I will become very close this semester, hopefully not just because I've gone to her for asylum.

This anniversary, I decided that Harrison and I should be brother and sister- twins since neither of us really fulfills an older sibling position. It really would be one of the only ways I could view our relationship and keep it platonic in my head. Incest? ewwwww.

Things still way heavy for me. Not having Guy's love, attention and affection bothers me. I love him so yet all the signs of his love are just glimmers on my memory and on my own emotion. My heart sinks in my chest when I think of the distance between us, and this very fact has been difficult to maneuver. I want someone here to hold me. Someone to feel cared about. Yet however, I must again rely upon the warmth of friends to sustain me.

Beirut put on a good performance. Our wonderful idea to sit in the balcony left for a quieter and ...warmer concert experience. Having Sam, Noah's gf around is amazing, especially for dancing and quirky inside jokes.

I don't know why I woke up at 635 in the morning.