Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Weinergate 2: The Reckoning

So, I guess after all the poor maneuvering from a few days ago when this story first broke, it's nice to know Representative Weiner has at least stop lying.  And really, now that has happened, I'm ready to move on. 
You know, if Weiner had made a career off of morality campaigning or talking about the importance of marriage or something like that, I would call him a hypocrite, mourn for how there are no politicians who live their ideals, and move on.  If Weiner had used government resources like computers and email accounts to send those messages and tweets, I'd call for an investigation and mourn the same thing as the last scenario.  As it stands, I just really want to move on.  I'm bored, frankly.  And from what I hear, so is everyone else
Can we get back to talking about something important?  We had a long list of military operations that we need to address, and prisons that need reform, and education that needs reform, and the environment. 

Monday, June 6, 2011

Tea with Christine

I went out for tea with Christine and her aide.  She took me to this new teahouse that recently opened.  Christine had apparently been there, but I had never even heard of it until maybe March or April. 
I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this tea house.  I had a giant chi tea, which was really good once I added about eight packets of sugar to it.  Christine just got herself some Earl Gray, which is notoriously her favorite.  I have to admit that I like Earl Gray too (there are few teas I don't like, just things flavored mint or peppermint, which I don't like anyway.) 
Christine sort of caught me up on all that's been going on in her life.  Mostly, this means Doctor Who.  I'm grateful that I love the show too, because with her it is almost all she talks about.  Even Dave, one of out mutual friends, has mentioned this, and I know he doesn't watch the show.
Christine loves Matt Smith and she talks about what she thinks of the show.  We theorized about who River Song is.  (This was before the recent episode, which did answer some questions, but not all.)  We talked a little about Sherlock, another show Christine loves. 
Christine almost always has someone around taking care of her, and her aide was a young woman training to be a nurse.  She was nice.  She talked about being from Grand Rapids and how driving to and from there was miserable.  When she saw the purse I had with me, she asked if I had been on a trip recently. 
It's not as strange of a question as you would think.  The purse is usually sold to people going abroad.  I use it mostly when I have to. 
I sort of hate carrying purses, mostly because they're such a womanly thing.  I usually would just carry a big bag, like a tote or a backpack or a messenger bag.  I want to carry a wallet like guys do, but I am increasingly suspicious that women's jeans are designed so that you can't fit a wallet in them.  (Maybe this means it is time to invest in men's jeans.)
Christine and I also talked poetry and this upcoming conference she is going to.  She actually helped set it up with some mutual friends.  It sounds like it is turning into a really big thing, because she said they had tons of people they had to turn down both in terms of speakers and attendees.
I sort of wish that I could do something like that in English, because it sounds like a lot of fun.  I don't know where I would even begin with something like that.  I've never even worked at a conference or convention or anything equivalent.  I think I would want to get some experience doing that first before I dove into something that huge. 
Afterward, Christine, her aide and I walked home together.  Christine and her aide dropped me off near my place.  At the front door, a whole group of my friends were standing outside, taking pictures.  It made me smile to see all of them. 

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Maison Carree

I've spent part of this weekend searching the internet for cool places to travel too.  Not that I have any particular plans, but I wanted to see what was out there. 
I knew the Romans were in France (Gaul, back then) for a long time but I always sort of imagined them not investing much in the local communities, especially if those communities weren't Roman.  But clearly I'm wrong.
Maison Carree looks sweet.  I really love history, and how cool is the name Marcus Agrippa?  (Especially the Agrippa part.)  Apparently someone use to live in that temple, well after the Roman Empire fell, and I'm terribly curious as to who lived there.  (Also: where can I get me digs like that?) 

The Final Countdown Cover


I am totally impressed by this cover of The Final Countdown. It almost sounds Spanish here. He's not a bad singer either.

Another Doctor Who Saturday

I admit it...once again I have forgone posting about my actual life and watched Doctor Who instead.  Enjoy this little cute thing I found of Matt Smith and what appears to be a very silly message.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Night Out with Friends

Marguerite, Amanda, Virginia and I were in the kitchen of Marguerite's building getting drunk.  I was at that swimmy stage that I am such a big fan of. 
It was a conversation filled with revelations.  I didn't know that everyone in the room was aware of what had happened between Matt and I last summer.  I sort of felt that it was a secret, of sorts, between Matt and I.  I mean, it wasn't something we agreed should be a secret, but I worried, even though I was almost always pushing Matt away, how Virginia would feel.  I didn't want her to get hurt.  She's so nice, she deserves better than getting hurt. 
And yet, pretty much everyone had already heard what had happened.  Well, sort of.  They heard Matt's side of the story, which wasn't so much inaccurate, it just lacked my feelings.  Which obviously Matt doesn't know in full.
From what I could gather from the conversation it seems like everyone in the room sided with me anyway, which, in other circumstances, would surprise me.  But when I saw Erin in March, she mentioned something that happened between Marguerite and Matt that changed the way everyone looked at Matt, and not for the better.
"What's his new girlfriend like?" I asked, out of curiosity.  "Genie?"  I was struggling for her name. 
"Genevieve," Marguerite said.  Amanda and Marguerite both seemed to think she was utterly boring and cowed.  The sort of girl who didn't appear to have a thought for herself.
I always thought that stereotype of nice girls who were nothing but nice being the thing guys date when they have nothing better to date was just a stereotype.  And yet I keep finding evidence of it.  I wonder about these girls, since they strike me as mystical creatures.  Are they real?  Are they really just good at covering up anything even mildly disagreeable about themselves?  Do boys really love them, or do they just love the ego boost?  How does this affect the dating prospects of women who refuse to change themselves for a man or men in general?
After all this time of hearing about Genevieve, I still haven't met her.  Part of this is because I haven't sought Matt out, but part of this may be because this group of friends has mostly kicked Matt out.  (The Marguerite/Matt thing being the ultimate cause.)  I find myself curious about her.  Is she really that boring?  Or is it possible she's just shy?  I have a terrible affinity for shy women.  I like to talk to them, especially when no one else is.  I like to try to coax something out of them.
(It's been my experience that the best way to get something out of these women can't really happen on a one encounter sort of thing but multiple encounters.  Some of the most interesting women I've known are women who don't usually talk to others, but who eventually talk to me.)
Virginia told us about her new beau, Nick.  He sounds nice, and it sounds like he makes her happy.  I hope he doesn't treat her weirdly like the last one.
After we had been sitting down there for a while, mostly talking about boys, a group of people came down.  Among others, Jonathan and Zack were among them.  I don't really know either of those boys that well, but they're nice.  Zack had what was possible his beau, who like Zack, was really skinny.
(Again, what is with this skinny boy thing?  I don't like it.)
Zack's friend had red wine, and he poured me a glass.  Which I promptly spilled on myself, and was totally embarrassed and felt like a slob.  (Why do these things happen when I'm with people and not when I'm alone and no one can see me?) 
"Rut-ro," he said, imitating Scooby Doo. 
I raced upstairs to the nearest bathroom.  I was wearing this new coat that I had gotten (and loved) that was that was a tan/khaki color.  The red wine had turned purple, the same kind of purple that happened when someone gets punched in the eye.  I desperately tried to wash it out, and was mostly successful.  There was still a spot on it. 
After proving myself so incompetent with holding a glass, I went downstairs and said my goodbyes.
The problem with this was that it was cold outside and my coat was half wet.  Ack.  As I was walking home, I noticed a bit of wine had slipped in between the coat and the belt that is part of it, which obviously also had to come out.
And if that wasn't enough, I appeared to be bleeding.  Not heavy, but there was a little nick on my finger.  I thought about Claire and how she was totally bothered by blood.  I wasn't so much bothered by the blood as I was annoyed that I had to deal with this on top of a half wet coat and a wine on it and now possibly blood and Jesus, it was cold out there.  Cold in a way it wasn't meant to be. 
I got home early enough, and I said hi to Jimmy and Kristina, who were sitting at a table in the lobby, working on homework.  Jimmy was nice enough to give me his key, and I trooped up to his room and cleaned myself up (coat included.) 
As Jimmy went downstairs to hang with Kristina, I got online and did a little writing, including some poetry.  I got dressed in my pajamas.  I wondered where Karl was at.  It was the weekend, so we can hardly expect him to be around, but he wasn't exactly the going out on the town kind of guy.  I hoped he wasn't avoiding me. 

Meetings with Professors

I had a series of meetings with professors.  I showed up at a class I wasn't enrolled in and after the class, we went back to his office to talk over my future plans. 
He thinks I could make it into graduate school, which is one of the things I want to do with my life.  I like academic work.  Parts of it are scary, but I like reading and analyzing and talking.  I'm excited about teaching.  I don't want to teach younger people because there's a lot of hand holding involved, but the idea of teaching students who want to be there and are at least marginally interested in having conversations about art, literature and other related topics excites me.  (Maybe I don't even want to teach in the traditional sense where I lecture and students take notes, but where I encourage students to think for themselves and learn to be their own best teachers.) 
Anyway, I'm clearly getting away from the story I'm meant to be telling here. 
After that first meeting, I happened to wander down the steps of the building, and I passed an office.  Just to see what was going on, I poked my head in.  I wanted to get a look at the list of current professors to check to see if certain people were around.  And lo!  A couple were.  I started contemplating dropping by their door to see if they had office hours posted.  As I was turning, I ran into Cameron. 
I hadn't seen Cameron in about a year.  He was coming out of a meeting.  He looked different, in a subtle way.  There was something different about how his hair sat on his head and his face seemed more square than I remembered.  We talked briefly, and he told me to call him so we could have a drink. 
I went down another set of stairs.  I ran into another professor.  He told me to come see him the next morning, at eight. 
"Eight?" I said.  Eight's really early for me, at least these days.  I used to get up at eight for work, but since leaving that job, not so much. 
I think he could sense my reluctance for that hour.  He sort of laughed at me. 
I've got mixed feelings about this teacher.  He's kind of a jerk.  I get the feeling he's one of those people with low self-esteem, because he can't seem to handle anyone knowing anything and there's something very pushy about him.  But I could at least consider what he had to say.  Maybe it was something good?
I went past the office of the other professor I actually wanted to see, and she told me to come in the next week, and okay, okay, I can do it.  She's only available for two hours every week (pretty much no exceptions), which is kind of annoying, because I have a schedule too here. 
As I was going down the last set of stairs before I reached the door to the outside, Bobby came through the door.  I haven't seen him in about a year, and I was so excited to see him.  Bobby is one of those people that I just adore.
Bobby and I mostly talked shop.  He told me about the professor he was working with on an honors thesis.  It was actually another professor I didn't particularly like, but whatever.  He told me about how he's decided to concentrate on early modernism, so stuff around the time of Shakespeare.  
He had heard through the grapevine a little about what I had been up to, mostly thanks to Erin.  He also invited me to a party.
I have to admit that I have a bit of a crush on Bobby.  In addition to being nice and smart, he's obviously into literature, and that's way more than I need to be happy with a boy.  (It is a sad statement on boys that even with those two requirements, not many boys are left.)  Unfortunately, Bobby's got a girlfriend, so I don't think anything will be happening there anytime soon.