Writing Workshop

Mark invited me to a writing workshop he was holding. I brought a poem because that was what I had written the day before, and I mentioned this to the other writers because I wasn’t totally sure about the poem in question (which is a good reason to ask people what needs to be changed.)
After I read my poem, Kean said “You wrote that yesterday?”
Er, yes. Actually, I probably wrote it in about a half hour, maybe forty minutes if you could fooling around with the line breaks. I usually write poems without regard for line breaks, and then experiment with them later.
Everyone was mostly supportive of the poem. Kean mentioned that it sort of spun off on a tangent fairly early on, and the more I look at it, the more right I realize he is. So, I’m cutting that bit.
Mark did give me a wonderful compliment though: he told me I have amazing catalogs in my poems. That made me feel wonderful. I must admit, I’m sort of obsessed with catalogs, so I was happy to hear that.

Compare and Contrast

I caught Sarah in the caf today.  Basically, I had told Lavvy a couple of days ago that I wanted to help Sarah clean out her place, which, among other things, is getting new carpeting.  I've never been to Sarah's place before, but apparently it is really messy and crammed with stuff. 
Sarah and I talked and I offered to help.  I told her about how a nasty comment Sharon made got me thinking about privilege and caring for other people. 
"Sharon systematically alienates people," Sarah explained. 
"Does she have low level autism?" I asked.  "There's something off about her socializing." 
Sarah considered, then said probably not.  Sarah claimed Sharon was jealous of her. 
I don't know.  I like Sarah, but, but as I imagine myself seeing from Sharon's eyes, there isn't anything about Sarah that I feel would make me jealous. 
At the same time, Sharon says a lot of strange things, often very hurtful to whom she says them to.  I've watched her say some really ugly things to Claire and Ruth, and I myself have been on the end of some of them.  (Elizabeth noted that she had said something stupid things in front of Tamar, which surprises me not at all.) 
Maybe the better way of describing Sharon is to say that Sharon is one of those people who is always comparing her life to your's, and not always making a great secret of it.  I've noticed this in some of my own friends, mostly Ashley but also sometimes Natasha and Laura.  Basically, they make you know that they compare their life to your's.  If they think they are doing better than you, they make sure you know how inferior you are.  If they think you are the one doing better, they are angry and resentful at you, because, clearly, it's your fault and you deserve to be punished.  The truth is that comparing yourself to anyone, no matter who it is and no matter how you react, it's a bad habit, one that leads to other bad habits that leave you either alone or unhappy or both.  Personally, I advise not doing it at all, and catching yourself when your mind wanders to those thoughts. 
I've found concentrating on the positive things in my life is the best way to be happy, or, when things aren't so good, the best way to be happier.  If you're happy with your life or at least making an effort to be, you're really better off.  Comparing always ends the same. 
This might be Sharon's thing.  She isn't happy, but instead of loving the good things in her life and working to fix and appropriately deal with the things that aren't, she sits around comparing.  She wallows in self-pity when she finds herself lacking in comparison with someone and she insults and belittles someone when she doesn't.  She alienates people by being mean and then feels bad about herself for losing another friend.
Sarah also mentioned that she thinks Sharon might be gay.  I could see that, though Sharon once mentioned an ex-boyfriend.  Sharon's been alone for a while, and maybe that's a problem too.  With a lot of the people who I note do this comparing thing, there tends to be a fair amount of loneliness in their lives.  The only exception is Laura, but I'm not sure if she's just not lonely or if she's just hiding it from me.  (Ashley and Natasha give off loneliness vibes, Ashley does it a lot more than the average person.) 
Anyway, it's something I'm going to be thinking about, especially as I observe Sharon. 
Sarah also mentioned that she gets along with everyone, which I kind of true.  There are a lot of people who I think she really just tolerates and they tolerate her back. 

Out with Erin and Carrie

Since I couldn't find Carrie and Erin when I first got there, I just went to watch the band.  The people at this thing were sort of making me wonder about this place.  There was a young girl wearing what looked like a little girl's dress from the 1840's, with vertically stripped tights a la Alice in Wonderland.  She had all of her hair on the sides of her head shaved off, and just the top of her hair was growing down around it asymmetrically on one side, curled and bouncing in a way that indicated it must have been sprayed with massive amounts of hairspray.  And then she had a nose ring to complete the look.  Her boyfriend looked like an Edward Gorey character, but with an emphasis on pedophile-like creepiness.  There was another woman wandering around wearing no shirt but tape X's over her breasts, and then a suit jacket over that, and was carrying a massive, professional camera.
All of this is to say that I was really wondering where the hell Carrie had gotten me to come.  When she told me about this, it sounded fun, but being here now made me wonder what the appeal for Carrie was.  There was not her kind of place at all.
The band played, and the first woman, the one who was rocking the little girl Alice-punk look screamed out occasionally to the band, telling them she loved them.  "It's because we love you!" she yelled them at one point. 
Near the end of the set, Carrie and Erin found me.  They were both surprised to see me.  They tried to talk to me, and I really should have just left, but the band was good, and I really did want to hear them.  Erin and Carrie's loud talking clearly annoyed some of the people around us. 
Once the band finished, we wandered around a bit.  There was art on the walls, and I pretty much hated everything I saw. 
Carrie is rather fearless when it comes to talking to people.  She just went up to this woman, an artist, named Val.  Carrie just talked to her.  When she introduced herself, I made some jokes about Madonna and first-name basis. 
Val's husband, Curtis, was particularly friendly.  We had a nice time talking to him.  He was sort of floppity looking, like Juicebox, but with darker eyelashes and taller, but just as lean.  Unlike Juicebox, he dressed in clothes that showed off how skinny he is, which is the exact opposite of what Juicebox does. 
Val and Curtis had a very attractive friend with them, but he sort of disappeared.  What a disappointment.  After a while, so did Val. 
I get the feeling Curtis was mostly just talking to us to be nice, not because he was genuinely interested in what we had to say.  This struck me as a little embarrassing.  I would rather not be patronized. 
Eventually people sort of dropped away and left, and near the end, Erin and Carrie and I decided to leave.  Carrie got the art she had bought, wrapped up in bubble wrap. 
We wandered around for a while.  The cold was really bothering me, and I wished I had a warmer coat.  Erin wanted to get something to eat, and we ended up at this greasy spoon. 
The waiter was weirdly rude to us.  He was an older man, and asked for separate checks made him said he would only make two separate checks, not three.  We weren't far from a university, and a large one; I'm sure he's been asked to do that before. 
I had a burger and fries and was mostly happy with that.

Tripping Over Myself in Happiness

This afternoon, I was sitting on my computer, doing some writing.  Nina was in and out of the bathroom, doing various things. 
"I am going on a trip," she announced.  "I will arrive on Sunday." 
I paused for a moment.  It occurred to me this morning she might be going somewhere, just because a large bag appeared today at her desk, packed full of things, including her toiletries, which where on the top of the open bag. 
"Do you mean you'll be back here on Sunday?" I asked. 
"Yes."
Okay then, sounds good to me. 
Well, actually, it sounds better than good to me.  It sounds heavenly. 
The only sad thing is that it lands during Claire's birthday weekend.  We're all planning on going out tomorrow in celebration.  On a weekend like this, where I have guaranteed alone time, I would prefer to abuse it but staying in all weekend and enjoying the silence/lack. 
In any case, I'm very pleased with this turn of events. 

The Romantic Life

Last night, I was at a poetry reading and ran into my friend Mandy. While we were talking, she said "your life is so romantic!"
Huh?
That's not how I see my life at all. I mean, for the most part, I like my life. I feel like I'm doing important things and I'm, within reason, generally pretty happy. But I've never seen my life as romantic. It just kind of is. When I imagine a romantic life, I imagine that would mean being rich and famous and wealthy and talented. I wouldn't mind being some of those things, but right now, what I have is what everyone needs: purpose, support and freedom. And I'm really grateful.
Everything I have in my life is the result of hard work. Sometimes, I think that hard work isn't obvious to everyone around, because I don't think a lot about it and I don't really talk about it because that's considered a faux pas. I think sometimes everyone just sees my smiling face and don't realize that some days I'm actually miserable, but I smile and try to be cheerful because I don't want to bring my friends down. I'm stressed all the time, and I don't like it, but that's the price we pay when we're perusing something we believe in.
I don't usually think of my life as being inherently better than other's. There are some people in my life who I believe I am happier than, but not everyone. In fact, I would say that the majority of people in my life are at about the same level of happiness.
Maybe I should just be grateful someone near me thinks there's something admirable about me. Even if I kind of disagree.

Professors

I went in to see one of my professors about a paper. I figure professors love it when you come into see them, since so few students make the effort. I noticed last week this professor's hours were right after a class and just down the street, so it seemed perfect.
There's something off about him. I'm not totally sure yet what it is, but it's been bugging me all semester. I get the feeling that he doesn't like me. Certainly, I've heard other students complain about how pompous he is, which, although he does seem knowledgeable about the subject at hand, doesn't really make me like him all that much. But I feel like I haven't done anything that should earn me his dislike. I've shown up to every class, and participate, and always do the reading and turn in all the homework. What more should a professor want? I mean, sure, I don't always answer questions correctly, but the entire point of a class is to learn, and there's nothing to learn if you already have the answers.
It's possible he thinks I'm pompous. I do think I know a lot about the background of what we're studying. This class is on the Catholic Church in the early Modern world. I've taken heaps of medieval history classes, and, for what I hope are obvious reasons, I've managed to learn a lot about medieval Catholicism. The Catholic Church is not a dynamic institution; as a general rule, if it was once that way, it's probably still that way. So I know a lot about religious orders and saints and Popes and the general "how things work" kind of knowledge, which has been helpful. But I would be the first to concede that I don't know much about mission work or the Inquisitions. I might be quick to guess the reasons why things happened, but I wouldn't know.
Maybe this is the first time a professor has disliked my enthusiasm. I've yet to come across someone who doesn't like that I care about school, but I do. I care not just because it's school with a capital 'S,' but because I'm studying things I'm interested in, and things that I like learning about. And, really, I'm very lucky. Lots of people go to college and either study something they don't like or eventually hate. I get to do things that make me happy.