being of the jew in woodland hills, and x-files face creative writing class kids

Back to school. Here I sit in the library with my token scene friend (also known as Patrick, who pre-approved me to refer to him in such a mildly offensive yet simultaneously endearing manner), who encouraged me that it was Taimi to blog (time-y to blog...). It is the first day of school. The first day of school at University of Oregon means a few things for me. Primarily, it means my re-immersion into having to strategically zigzag during my between-classes routes as to avoid people trying to pawn things off on me that I do not want. For example, I am not interested in attending bad underground hip-hop concerts. I also am not interested in purchasing poorly written literature, although I myself am a producer of poorly written literature. Secondly, the first day of school signals the end of certain brain cell killing activities (who am I kidding). Thirdly, it means compulsively shopping at American Apparel, since their genius marketing team located it directly in my line of vision in a deliberate attempt to drain my already pathetic bank account. Finally, it means making quick decisions and snap judgments about how taking or not taking a certain class may or may not affect my destiny. I do not want to tangle with fate, especially if it is of an academic variety. I have tried before, and it was a grievous error, which I will not discuss here as it would be comparable to electronically cutting my veins and spilling my blood onto your LCD computer screens. What? Anyway. Today marked the beginning and end of my career as a creative writing student, as my fantasies of being inspired to write the next great American novel were destroyed as soon as the phrase "working on our craft" came out of the prof's mouth. Its a 200-level class, and I have read "A Good Man is Hard to Find" by Flannery "being-a- Catholic-sucks-oh-shit-so-does-Lupus" O'Connor twelve too many times. Also, the following freshman were in my class: boy with "I write fantasy novels featuring gryffins but not dragons" hair [frizzy golden locks in pony tail], approx. seven people who pour their hearts out into their "eljay", ambiguous anime fans doodling manga illustrations in their student planners, a frightening young future sex offender, a child with an X-Files face (who am I to even make fun of this, I nearly died of joy when Scully and Moulder finally kissed) and a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Roma Downey from Touched by an Angel (this isn't even remotely an insult, she's a beautiful woman. It is Della Reese who haunts my dreams). But truth, I love English majors with a fiery passion that burns at night. They (we) are all so shamelessly weird, I just want to embrace our collective quirks. Eugene, what can I even say about you. You are an oasis of idiosyncrasies. I am just waiting for the topless girl sighting, and also that one guy who dresses up in a bear suit and goes around campus rubbing his back against trees and just acting bear-like in nature. What a hero.

Perhaps Oregon is particularly appealing to me because I have just returned from the depths of Southern California for the most excruciatingly uncomfortable series of obligatory family events. Grandma died and I reunited with my almost excessively Jewish family (including an aunt who says "verklempt" in casual conversation and also "talk amongst yourselves" in a fashion that I am guessing is entirely un-ironic, as I think the humor of the famous Coffee Talk skit would be lost on her, since it is basically her real life). As my father says, I am "of the Jew", but not an actual Jew-Jew (Ju-Ju Bees are delicious candies). However, I had to play Jewish this weekend, which was delightful. Anyway, the entire weekend was basically a series of wildly inappropriate events. To choose just one, it would have to be my aunt attempting to set me up with a "nice Jewish boy" who was a friend of the rabbi (also, I have to mention that during the service, the rabbi wore a tie with a huge growling leopard face and a swiping paw). This was so awkward that my heart is almost crying to type this. After being introduced to said nice Jewish man and after having not-so-subtly hinted at that I was eligible for marriage and the creation of beautiful non-Gentile babies, the following questions ensued. "So, are you active in the Temple?" "Have you ever been to Israel?" "Are you here alone?". I essentially had no response to any of these, but I made up some answers: "Well, I kind of fell out of the faith after high school." "No, but I hear its beautiful". "I traveled here with my family?". Honestly, I don't know where I come up with this shit. It was absurd. But anyway, he was very nice and I think he would have even allowed me to eat bacon, should a marriage actually ensue. However, he did decide to opt out of taking the SAT out of self-proclaimed laziness, so I don't know if there is a future for us. Who knows, I could be the shiksa goddess for him. All right, I'm done with this. I would do my homework but I used all the money that I was supposed to spend on books on a plane ticket to Hawaii. Oi vey?