Ann Hansen

I guess I'm just having a video kind of day.  I found this lecture by Ann Hansen about Direct Action. Hansen is usually considered an anarchist, and much of her work and writing is about bringing down the oppressive nature of capitalism. She also has a memoir about her experiences.
I like how you can hear the Canadian accent in her voice too.

On Who Power Chooses to Negotiate With

I'm posting this video because it says some really interesting things. 
One of the things that Gelderloos talks about is how Gandhi was the ideal target for the British to negotiate with, even though he wasn't the only leader.  This is the exact same thing that happened in South Africa with Nelson Mandela. A lot of people think Mandela was the only leader, but he was not, he was the leader that the movement chose to use as P.R. to the international community, mostly because of his biography. Chris Hani and Winnie Mandela were both leaders and, since neither was under long term arrest, had more direct power, but because Nelson Mandela was the least radical and the most likely to maintain capitalism, he was the one the white apartheid government chose to work with. Mandela gave in to many white demands that allowed certain aspects of the previous oppressive system to remain in place, and revolution was not as overreaching as it could have been.  South Africa, for all its progress, is still a pretty miserable place, especially economically, where capitalist still control so much and the people have very little. 

Final Push

Things have been getting crazy in my life right now, so I might not be updating the blog as much as I thought, but basically, stuff is due, and I am doing the whole final push thing. 
I was on the phone with both of my parents Sunday night.  My Dad repeated the same things he always repeats to me, and my Mom was frustrated over my Grandma, so basically what happens every time I call them. 
With my Grandma situation, I feel bad, since I'm not there helping right now, even though mostly everyone would argue I was doing what I should be doing in being here.  But I still find myself feeling guilty for it, because my Grandma takes so much work, and my Mom ends up doing almost all of it.  I'm hoping in the next couple of weeks I get some time to help out once I go back home.  I still want to spend time with some friends, but I know I should use what time I can to be helpful. 

Literary Bad Boys

Had lunch today with some friends.  Elizabeth was telling me about how much she loves Tulkinghorn from Charles Dickens's Bleak House.  I've seen the recent production the BBC did of the novel, and I actually did not find this guy even the least bit attractive, but that's okay.  I guess somewhere out there people are shocked that I would find Vincent D'Onofrio, Lee Pace, Jacob Black, Sheldon Cooper and Matthew Gray Gubler attractive. 

Isn't that better?  I also had lunch with the young woman who lives below me.  She is really nice.  She was telling me all about this flea market she had tried to go to, getting totally lost in the process and getting bad directions from three different people and it all being a mess.  I probably should have asked her about her choice literary bad boys, but I can only take so many shocks a day. 

Out Last Night

As Elena sat there on her computer, I was rushing about trying to get ready.  I had ten minutes.  I reapplied my makeup, lamenting how ugly I am.  I put on a belt, which I've been meaning to do all week.  I made sure I had money and my ID.  And then I got going. 
A group of friends and I were going out for the evening.  Tamara knew this particular bar that she said she took all her friends to and was excellent.  We were very disappointed to get there and discover that the bar had been overtaken by a party for some reporters.  We spoke to the man right outside, who clearly worked there.  The girls begged a bit to get in, except for Ruth and I, who mostly giggled at how silly they were being.  We hadn't had anything to drink yet, but I suspect that this man wouldn't have believed us.  He told us if we came back the next day he would give us free margaritas.
As we were walking away, Claire said that she had heard the bartender telling the party planner that he didn't want us coming in, even though the planner said it was okay.  So we ended up at this burrito place down the street.  It was tacky in a hilarious sort of way, and we sat down. 
Our waiter took our IDs, and upon seeing mine, he got excited because he was from Ann Arbor.  And then he got us drinks.
I have not been having much luck with drinks lately.  I am trying new things and mostly have been disappointed by them.  I've had vodka lemonades before, but neither one was very good.  (The second one was strawberry flavored.)  The other girls had margaritas of varying kinds.  I worked on the chips and salsa. 
Claire and I had a look around at the other men in the bar and were intrigued by several of them, but since they were often holding hands with other men, they were probably gay.  Claire had to give a performance the next day, so Lavvy quizzed her on her lines.  Claire, Tamara and Caroline all texted. 
As usual, I ended up talking mostly with Ruth.  I can't even remember most of what we talked about, but it was probably about work.  Ruth likes her job, but I think it mostly is more work than she can stand. 
"I calculated my hourly salary and it came out to 7.50," she was telling me.  It's particularly sad, as she is always working.  Tamara told her she needed to write more and read less, which is advice I should take. 
I told Ruth that in less than the last two months, I'd written forty poems.  I am really meant to be writing other things, but I find that I want to write poetry more. 
Claire told me she wants to do a dramatic interpretation of one of my poems.  So I guess I'll give her one of them.  I really don't want to, especially since I don't have a printer and will have to write it out, but I still will anyway.
I was texting with Nate, which was going a little badly because I wasn't texting well. 
Tamara and Caroline left early because both of them had things early in the morning.  After we paid up, Claire, Ruth and I walked home.  Claire has been learning to dance lately, and she showed us her entire routine with her fingers at the bar.  Then she was Charlestoning out in the street. 
"I feel a bit ill," Claire commented.  I did too, which is unlike me, because drinks have never made me sick to my stomach before. 
Right at the street corner closest to home someone was standing near us.  They had on a dark coat, high heels and very blonde curly hair. 
"I'm enjoying that," I commented.  Clarie hit me in the stomach.  "Don't be such a pervert!"
"Was that a man or a woman?" Ruth asked.
"I thought it was a man," I said.  Claire disagreed.   
When I got back, I checked my phone and saw there was a message from Nate to be careful.  I told him I had walked home with friends and was safe.  It's so nice to have someone like that care about you. 

Eye of Day

Eye of the Day is a consultant group that aids immigrants in navigating governments and laws. Looks like it could be useful for anyone looking to try to get U.S. citizenship, which, during this "War on Terror" and general racism, is probably really tough.
It's hard for us who are lucky enough to be happy with our citizenship to realize not everyone is.  And it's so hard to remember that someone who is "illegal" lives with constant fear that someone is going to discover their legal status and have them deported.  Or worse, take advantage of them in some way, like paying them less for their labor. 

Assorted Antics

I had dinner tonight with Rachel and later Jenny joined us.  We had a nice chat.  Rachel indulged in some complaining about a roommate she once had who smeared a open plastic packet of ham all over the bottom of a refrigerator and other assorted antics. 
Jenny talked about her officemate, who she really likes, even though she is a little nutty and entertaining. 
I spent the rest of my evening catching up on emails and other things.  Emily emailed me to say she might be coming up for a visit and would I like to hang out.  Of course I told her I'd love to see her again (I would.)  So maybe we'll visit.  And then Ashley emailed just for a general chat, catching up about what's going on. 
Elena didn't come home until 10:30 tonight, which is pretty late for her.  She came home while I was in the shower.  I admit it: I was singing.  I only sing a couple of times a week in the shower, and I try to limit it because I'm not good.  I heard her leave loudly. 
Also got a text message from someone saying that I was texting the wrong person.  I was totally shocked.  Was I doing the same thing as that woman who wouldn't stop calling me?  But I looked back in my file of sent texts, and I've only texted that number once in the past few months, and I suspect even less before then.  The text was kind of rude, and I have half the mind to text them back just out of spite.  But I got everything straightened out, so it's okay now.