an unsustainable length of tooth to length of body ratio
January 25th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
I am sitting on a rocky beach in my grandparents’ living room with my feet in the water. Some cousins are there. I undress and dive in the water, swimming with my head close to the sea floor. It is very muddy and there is lots of algae, but I can make out thumb-sized minnows swimming through the gunk. I tell myself that there is no large aquatic fauna to be afraid of here because the water is too shallow; I try to imagine a shark or a walrus swimming around me just beyond my field of vision.
As the absurdity of this thought begins to comfort me, a reasonably sized minnow breaks away from a fleeing school and swims directly towards my face, exposing a terrifying set of extremely sharp teeth at least twice the length of the rest of its body (about four inches long). It’s mouth is unreasonably wide, making the collection of teeth comically oversized for its tiny body. I am not particularly amused, though, as it continues to swim towards me at a startling speed while chattering its teeth very, very fast, and I discover the water around my arms and legs has adopted the viscosity of maple syrup.
The Tiger Within
January 25th, 2008 by Jenny Crimp; no comments
The squash-faced cat is back in my dreams from summer. The last time I ran in to him under a bush he was the ugliest thing ever, I was terrified, and he tried to seduce me in French.
Now he is no longer the ugliest thing ever, he is fluffy and cute, but he wants to kill me! He is in my parents house and I run from him to the kitchen, but he jumps in front of me and tries to claw me. Monty cowers under the desk, and I stand in front, trying to protect him, but the cat is really interested in me. I refuse to hurt it because it’s just a cat, probably someone’s pet. I don’t understand what has made it so deranged, but it is really terrifying.
Sex
January 21st, 2008 by Alex Walton; no comments
There was a trip somewhere; we were holed up together. A new school maybe. In a wood room I had sex with a girl from my seminar. It was amazing sex, we were both very happy and then I felt bad because I didn’t know her name. (In real life, I don’t know her name; this is not a problem in real life because in real life we’re not sleeping with each other.) We were on a team together and the fact that we were involved was a kind of secret we kept from other people.
[This was, need I say, a really good dream: yet it was so entirely realistic, even down to the awkwardness of not knowing her name, that I think I will feel awkward to see her in real life.]
really, really scary
January 18th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
I am moderating a debate between the three democratic candidates. “Mrs. Clinton,” I ask, “why do you believe you are the best candidate?” She takes off her glasses and looks at me seductively.
“Well Kris, I am the most beautiful.”
Just then (in the waking life) the phone rings. My grandparents’ house, where I am sleeping, has a caller-ID that talks. It says, “Clinton, WA … Clinton, WA …”
A song
January 17th, 2008 by Adrian Sampson; no comments
Melanie, Claire, and I are sitting on a beach that is bright but only room temperature. Songs are being written.
Melanie makes her ukelele sound like an electric guitar with the distortion turned all the way up. She plays blues progressions and it all grooves like crazy while I run back and forth on a wide, dark trail with lots of dangerous roots. There is hugging and congratulating because Melanie has written a very awesome tune.
attack of the venomous robotic snakes
January 16th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; one comment
I am going to my aunt’s-in-law (I never knew this was a thing)’s house on the north end of Bainbridge with my professor. She is crazy and lives by herself in the middle of the desert, so it’s kind of a big deal. We are driving a heavily modified off-road vehicle because she lives in the middle of the desert – you know, that one on the north end of Bainbridge.
We arrive at her house, which is by a lake and has an adjacent wind mill and some chickens pecking through the sand. We go inside. My professor introduces me to my aunt-in-law, who asks me, “so what’s your story?” I explain that I am a student at the UW and that I just arrived in that car over there in her driveway. After an awkward pause I add that I like science. Another awkward pause. I say something about bicycles.
I go outside so that my professor and aunt-in-law can be alone. I am walking through the sand when a snake pokes its head out of the sand a few meters from my boots, slithers out of the hole it just created, and heads viciously towards my toes. I immediately draw my revolver and shoot it in its head, which sparks and explodes like a robot. Another snake appears, closer, which I shoot similarly. Soon snakes are appearing at an alarming rate, all of them moving closer to my toes faster than I can shoot them in the head. Little snake bodies and small mechanical parts are piling up around my feet.
Canada, 27 by 15
January 10th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
The democratic primary elections are heating up. Obama won Iowa and Clinton won New Hampshire, but the next wave of states to hold primary elections will surely elucidate how Americans feel about the candidates. A map highlighting these states shows how scattered they are geographically. The most isolated state of the bunch, which I never realized existed, is located on the northern tip of one of the great lakes. It is completely enclosed by Canada. A closer look at the map of the state looks more like a map of a living room – the location of four chairs is shown, and the location of a couch and a coffee table. It turns out that the state is just really small.
I have just been relocated from the continental US to work in this mysterious state. A local resident shows me around the state. “Here is the coffee table,” she tells me, standing in the middle of a medium-sized, nondescript room with large windows on one wall, “and here are the chairs.” I ask what is behind the one door out of the room. “Oh, don’t go through that door, that leads to Canada and it’s illegal for us to cross the border without the approval of customs.”
The window looks out over a large lake, but not so large that you can’t see the other side. I ask if the lake is American or Canadian territory. The local points to a giant speedboat racing across the lake with blatant disregard for whatever maritime laws probably restrict its behavior. “Does that look like something you’d see in Canada?”
Later, when nobody is looking, I open the door that purportedly leads to Canada. Stationed on the other side is a Canadian police officer, who looks at me disapprovingly. I ignore him and head down the otherwise empty hall. I wander around for a while and come across three things of note: 1. Somebody lying on a massage table with a blue scarf wrapped around their head in a gigantic, square concrete room with an uncomfortably low ceiling, 2. A giant gold elevator in the middle of which is Cosmo and his family who I try to say hello to but have to get off before I can ask them what they are doing in Canada, 3. Evan and his family on funky looking bicycles, each with two differently sized wheels. I end up on a large boat with about ten people I am closely acquainted with laden with the burden of solving a mystery.
Something on the boat is evil and we have to figure out what it is and stop it. We throw around a couple of ideas, but shoot them down. We go to ask the bartender. He tells us, “Well, I can tell you that the dimensions of the main cabin are 27 by 15 and that there is a mysterious banquet for ten laid out upstairs that nobody knows anything about.” We decide to go investigate the banquet.
The first course is already laid out – buttery rice and soybeans. My friends all sit down and start eating. I ask if maybe it is a trap, but someone says that the food is much too delicious for it to be a trap. I try one grain of rice and lick my fingers. I have a nearly overwhelming urge to sit down and eat the whole bowl, but I pull myself away. Everyone is entirely engaged in their meal. I scream at them, but nobody notices. I stomp my feet and smash two egg-shaped pieces of expensive looking china, but receive no response. I suddenly recall the other thing the bartender told us, about the dimensions of the cabin, and remember that 27 by 15 is an evil dimension. “The cabin!” I scream at them some more, “It’s the boat, the boat is evil!” I finally give up on my doomed companions and run back downstairs to the bar. I try to open the door to the deck, but it is locked. The boat is violently shaken by an explosion somewhere, and starts to tip. I try the other doors, but they are all jammed shut. The densely crowded passengers, unphased by the explosion, slowly take notice that something about the orientation of the boat is wrong. I keep wrestling with one of the doors but it doesn’t budge. The water around the boat starts to rise.
Beth’s Chocolate Arrangement
January 5th, 2008 by Jenny Crimp; no comments
I wander down a wooded path at night near the dorms. I wanted to be by myself, but soon I come across Beth Halsne, who is pretending to be a deer I think, and she invites me to some sort of gathering. I wander a little bit more and almost get hit by some campus squirrels jumping dirt bikes off a large mound of dirt covered in a tarp.
I decide to go to the gathering Beth mentioned, which is in Raitt Hall. About half of the kids from my Academy are there. I say hi to Andreas, and he says “Jenny! Good to see you!”
Beth comes up behind him and says, “Did you know we got married? He gives me chocolate! Look! Andreas, can I have another piece of chocolate?” He hands her a milk chocolate square and she eats half of it. I ask Rebecca if that’s really why they got married and what kind of a chocolate supply Andreas has.
Later I get a photography portfolio back from a professor I have never met, for a class I do not remember taking. For a second I have a hope that I may have done some impressive work, but when I open the folder the professor says to me, “You didn’t even do the assignment. You really disappointed me.”
For a second I want to argue because I never knew what the assignment was, or even got the chance to come to class, but instead I say, “I know. What can I do now?”
She says, “Well, I will have to give you an incomplete and you will finish the assignment.” I get a sinking feeling in my stomach because there is no way I will ever pass. I tell her I really can’t take another incomplete on my transcript, to which she is unsympathetic, so I ask, “How long does it take?” I’m not sure if I mean the project, getting an incomplete, or getting a real grade put on my transcript. Her reply is unhelpful; she says either 6 to 9 weeks or months.
Visa application for marriage green card form 27F change of residence
January 5th, 2008 by Jenny Crimp; no comments
I am playing a game of soccer at Shorewood with various members of my sixth grade class. Travis Austin makes a very funny joke and admires a girl across the field.
Laura goes to the South African government to get a passport, but instead they give her an American Express card. Garett and I laugh, because of course they would give her something useless.
I really enjoy some large rectangle pattern, and am disappointed when the edges do not align because I was hoping to trace my foot around the entire structure, which may be made of gigantic CD cases piled on top of one another.
My mom is has organized for us all to sit for a family portrait. We are all female. The first pose will be in swim wear, but I haven’t brought any matching pieces with me, so I ask Evan Kolpack which horrid swim shorts I should wear with my top, but he only agrees that they are all horrid. Then my mom comes to rush me along and tells me I must also pose for a dance portrait. I have to put on a pair of ballet tights under my swimsuit so I can do both portraits at once, but the ballet tights do not stretch at all, so it takes me about ten minutes to get them on. By this time the photographer, a creepy man with salt-and-pepper hair, has finished with the dance and swim portraits. He tells me to stand off to the side and takes a mugshot of my face to photoshop in later, then makes me pose in the formal portrait in my hideous swim/dance getup.