Went to a poetry slam. I went early because I was friends with some of the people I knew who were putting it on and I wanted to be helpful, but when I got there, I discovered there wasn't much for me to do. I fooled around with the music that was playing before the slam. Someone had made a mix CD years ago, but the intern couldn't get it to actually play on the laptop, and neither could I. We tried to get last.fm to play, and it was playing, but we couldn't get any sound to come out.
The poet they brought in was really nice. He walked in with Freddy, who I hadn't seen in a few weeks. Freddy said hi to me and then wandered off. I actually didn't realize this was the poet, because he looked so different from his pictures. He was shorter and his hair was neater. He was really skinny and totally dressed like a hipster. And he stuck out his hand and shook mine.
He had lived in New York City and Portland, and was currently in Austin. He talked to us about living there, and there was a part of me that was totally jealous.
I then realized as we were getting seats together that I had no idea if Mark was coming or not and hadn't even thought of him. Sacre bleu, I found myself thinking. How could I?
I texted him, asking if he was coming. A few minutes later he texted back, saying that he was coming, but was going to be two minutes late. I laughed, but was totally surprised to discover that we have an injoke.
Mark sat with me, but he talked to one of the other inters, who he was in a playwriting class with.
Stephanie introduced him, mentioning that slam poetry was often political and that was fine and good, but it was nice to have slam poets who saw the beauty in life.
He's like the Mary Oliver of slam poets, I thought. Stephanie loves Mary Oliver, for reasons that sometimes escape me. I think she's an okay poet, but she always writes about the same thing, nature, and I've never read anything of her's that struck me as extraordinary, just fine. Stephanie always talks about how Oliver is so interested in joy in her poetry. Maybe I'm a miserable person but her poetry never makes me joyful and it frequently bores me.
The performance was amazing. The poet had all this amazing imagery. I loved his voice, which sounded so ordinary but powerful. I'm still not sure how he managed to do this, because usually when poets read they have their "serious poet reading serious poetry that is going to change the world" voice, and he just sounded like a storyteller from a mythical place.
He told stories in between his poems. He talked about how his Mom use to run a bookshop, which might be the best Mom job ever. He would go there every day after school (again, so jealous.) And that he loves to find new independent bookshops because of that.
He talked about how he read one of his poems once, which had a mermaid tattoo coming to life, and was interpreted to be about crack. Which is really funny but kind of horrifying. It sounds like the unnecessary freaking out of my own mother.
He also talked about how much he worked and traveled and performed his poetry. He said that if he was a musician he wouldn't have a chance in terms of making it, but that people were willing to shell out money for poetry.
"Poetry," he said, imitating people. "Yeah okay?"
This gives me hope that maybe I could make it has a poet one day. I always worry that there isn't really a market for poetry, because I swear to God that is the number one article I always read concerning poetry. "No one reads poetry except poets, and not even them" type of headlines. But maybe it's not all doom and gloom. Maybe there are people out there who will listen and read.
I realized as he began his last poem that I had heard of this guy before. A while back, Austin showed me a video of this poem being performed, and I was totally stunned to hear it.
I don't remember how, but occasionally Austin and I would hang out and talk poetry. He showed me videos of slam poets. He was always into slam poetry more than I am. I think slam poets are amazing, but I have no talent for doing what they do. Austin, however, did.
Austin eventually left school, for reasons I'm still not sure of. I was sad to hear he left, because he didn't say goodbye. And it meant he didn't graduate.
After the last poem, the poet took questions, and the first person asked:
"What do you dream about?"
"Seriously?" I said. Mark laughed, but he was misinterpreting my words. As crazy as that question was, it wasn't really that I was having trouble with: it was the voice.
It was Austin's.
As the poet answered (which was not terribly impressive. I think he might have said something about fishermen), I scanned the crowd. Austin was on the other side of the room. It was too dark to see clearly, but I thought I could make him out. He seemed to be wearing the same long black coat that he had always favored in the time I knew him and a knit cap, again, that he had always favored.
No way, I thought.
There were other questions, mostly about what the poet read and symbolism. After he stopped answering questions, he sold and signed books and gave people hugs. He came over to the side of the room Mark and I were sitting at and we sat there and talked. Stephanie came over to tell us that she was taking all of us out for a late night snack.
"Why not drinks?" I asked.
"Not everyone can drink," she reminded me. Oh yeah. I forgot that she had interns to watch over, who were fairly young.
Mark and I sat there waiting, and eventually I saw Austin. One of us hailed the other, I don't remember.
Austin came out saying right away that he was getting along again with a particular professor I knew. I was sort of surprised because that was so not the first thing I was concerned about. I mean, not that I don't want Austin to be picking fights or anything, but what I wanted to know was what he had been doing.
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Hipster Wedding
I'm not really interested in weddings, but I stumbled across these photos from what looks like one of the most hipster weddings ever, and I kind of fell in love with certain things.
I really love the bridesmaid dresses, even though they didn't seem to flatter all of the women in the party. I want each of these dresses, honestly, just for myself to wear wherever.
And I'm totally a sap for images of people loving each other. I'm trying really hard to resist, but to no avail.
I really love the bridesmaid dresses, even though they didn't seem to flatter all of the women in the party. I want each of these dresses, honestly, just for myself to wear wherever.
And I'm totally a sap for images of people loving each other. I'm trying really hard to resist, but to no avail.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Latinos and Latinas in Hollywood
Reviewing an article on actors who "you didn't know were Latino" today, and finding myself sort of worried about the things said in the article.
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First, I'm always bothered when actors "pass" as white, because it sends the message that their actual race or races is unacceptable. Raquel Welch, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, members of Jersey Shore and especially Alexis Bledel have all made careers out of playing white or coded as white characters. Bledel played one of the white main characters in a alarmingly white town of Gilmore Girls and the Greek American character in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Fergie may or may not be passing, depending on who you ask. I suspect most of my friends think she's white, but she's made a point of working with other people of color.
Benjamin Bratt is quoted in the article as being disappointed at the lack of roles that Latino men have, which is part of what makes passing so bothersome. Passing as white often just marginalizes people of color more than they already were, and in a world were they are always being marginalized, this is problematic.
The other thing about this article is that it reveals the complicated nature of identity. Harry Shum, Jr., despite being coded as Asian, was both from Chinese parents in Mexico.
As a last note, I don't feel comfortable about the statements made some of the actors. At one point, they mention a particular singer got his talent from being Honduran. This kind of stuff is based on stereotypes, and even a positive stereotype can have a negative effect on people.
Benjamin Bratt is quoted in the article as being disappointed at the lack of roles that Latino men have, which is part of what makes passing so bothersome. Passing as white often just marginalizes people of color more than they already were, and in a world were they are always being marginalized, this is problematic.
The other thing about this article is that it reveals the complicated nature of identity. Harry Shum, Jr., despite being coded as Asian, was both from Chinese parents in Mexico.
As a last note, I don't feel comfortable about the statements made some of the actors. At one point, they mention a particular singer got his talent from being Honduran. This kind of stuff is based on stereotypes, and even a positive stereotype can have a negative effect on people.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Party at Erin's
When I first got there, I was surprised by how few people were there yet, as I came fashionably late. I wasn't intending to be fashionably late so much as I got talking to Paul, Jimmy, Nate and Sam and then realized I was late.
Jamie was there, and I decided to sit with her, which immediately Erin made an issue of. Erin thinks something strange is going to with Jamie and I, which is ridiculous. I mean, I like her, obviously; we're friends. But Erin just gets really weird about the two of us talking to each other.
Last year, the three of us, (Erin, Jamie and I) were in a class, and Jamie was always quiet. She almost never talked. Most of the other (predominately girls) were untalkative too, but because I knew Jamie, I spoke to her before class. Erin did mention once that I was the only person who ever talked to her, which was sort of the point. Jamie is nice, but shy. Just because someone is shy doesn't mean they should be ignored. I make it a special point to try to engage shy people, especially shy girls, because I know how hard it is in a new social setting with people you don't know. It's easy to let your be unheard.
I think one of the other problems was that I walked in and there happened not to be any chairs available, which wasn't necessarily a big deal, but a young man (thankfully, sitting next to Jamie) got out of his chair immediately and offered it to me. I don't need men to always do the chivalric thing, but I try to be appreciative when they do. I think the fact that I was dressed in a white dress with black curly designs all over it annoyed Erin too, because this wasn't necessarily the sort of party to come dressed up to. Whatever. I need more excuses to be dressed up for, and I'm happy to take whatever I can get.
One of my many frustrations with this party was that I couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone about it. I was invited, but no one could tell me when it was going to be. Or where.
So I was a little annoyed to discover that this party was BYOB, because seriously, no one said anything. I had to nag Erin just to get her to tell me what was going on. (And then happened to run into someone who actually did tell me what was up.)
This is like in March when I went to a party with her and Carrie. Before I got there, Carrie gave me three different addresses to the place, all of which turned out to be other places. (I walked in on another concert, and when I asked about the event, the people there thought I was mad.)
Liz, who, for some reason was there, implied that I was stupid not to know better. I actually could have brought something for myself, as I passed multiple stores in my walk over.
Liz isn't part of this group of friends, though obviously she's friends with Erin. She's been hanging around a lot lately. Erin told me in March that Liz had broken up with this guy that she's been with for years. I felt bad for her because of the circumstances Erin described, which made it sound like this guy freaked out on her.
All that said, sometimes Liz can be really snarky, and I'm not sure how to react. I always try to be nice, though it's a struggle for me sometimes.
Jamie very sweetly stepped in and offered to me some white wine, which sounded good to me. We trooped downstairs to borrow glasses. (I get the distinct impression Erin didn't plan much for this party, as the only thing she mentioned doing was cleaning. To be fair, the cleaning probably took a long time.)
The basement is where the kitchen is and the huge table everyone eats at. I'd been down here a couple of times before. As Jamie and I trooped down there, we found one group of people trying to study. (Someone later mentioned that Erin had probably pissed her housemates off by having this party at this time of year.) When we turned into the dining area, there were Marguerite and Virginia. I said hi to both of them, kind of surprised to see Virginia but not so much to see Marguerite as she lives there. They both looked like they were working on homework, Virginia with her computer out. Marguerite was working on an art project. Part of her project was to illustrate some things, including a poem I had offered to let her use. I asked her if that part was done, and she said not yet.
"I love that poem!" she gushed. "You said some very true things and I love that you used a snake!" (The snake was part of an image in the poem.
I was totally touched that she liked it so much.
Jamie and I got our glasses and headed upstairs. We cheered and drank.
I got to talk to Anne, who I haven't seen in ages. Anne was wearing this really tight, really short shorts. The way her body was shaped and the way the chair was designed made it look at various times like she wasn't wearing anything on the bottom half of her body. I knew what that felt like because I feel like I have awkward fashion moments all the time.
Part of the time, I sat outside with Bobby and talked. Bobby told me about the novel he wrote while he was in high school, which was apparently about unrequited love. He implied heavily that it was written from personal experience. Bobby is not physically attractive, but he's so great to talk to that I find it hard to believe some girl would be dumb enough to turn him down.
While we were sitting outside, some friends coming late to the party came up and said hello. Mostly they just drank and fooled around, and thinking Cory was done with whatever bad poetry reading he was doing, we headed back inside.
Jamie was there, and I decided to sit with her, which immediately Erin made an issue of. Erin thinks something strange is going to with Jamie and I, which is ridiculous. I mean, I like her, obviously; we're friends. But Erin just gets really weird about the two of us talking to each other.
Last year, the three of us, (Erin, Jamie and I) were in a class, and Jamie was always quiet. She almost never talked. Most of the other (predominately girls) were untalkative too, but because I knew Jamie, I spoke to her before class. Erin did mention once that I was the only person who ever talked to her, which was sort of the point. Jamie is nice, but shy. Just because someone is shy doesn't mean they should be ignored. I make it a special point to try to engage shy people, especially shy girls, because I know how hard it is in a new social setting with people you don't know. It's easy to let your be unheard.
I think one of the other problems was that I walked in and there happened not to be any chairs available, which wasn't necessarily a big deal, but a young man (thankfully, sitting next to Jamie) got out of his chair immediately and offered it to me. I don't need men to always do the chivalric thing, but I try to be appreciative when they do. I think the fact that I was dressed in a white dress with black curly designs all over it annoyed Erin too, because this wasn't necessarily the sort of party to come dressed up to. Whatever. I need more excuses to be dressed up for, and I'm happy to take whatever I can get.
One of my many frustrations with this party was that I couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone about it. I was invited, but no one could tell me when it was going to be. Or where.
So I was a little annoyed to discover that this party was BYOB, because seriously, no one said anything. I had to nag Erin just to get her to tell me what was going on. (And then happened to run into someone who actually did tell me what was up.)
This is like in March when I went to a party with her and Carrie. Before I got there, Carrie gave me three different addresses to the place, all of which turned out to be other places. (I walked in on another concert, and when I asked about the event, the people there thought I was mad.)
Liz, who, for some reason was there, implied that I was stupid not to know better. I actually could have brought something for myself, as I passed multiple stores in my walk over.
Liz isn't part of this group of friends, though obviously she's friends with Erin. She's been hanging around a lot lately. Erin told me in March that Liz had broken up with this guy that she's been with for years. I felt bad for her because of the circumstances Erin described, which made it sound like this guy freaked out on her.
All that said, sometimes Liz can be really snarky, and I'm not sure how to react. I always try to be nice, though it's a struggle for me sometimes.
Jamie very sweetly stepped in and offered to me some white wine, which sounded good to me. We trooped downstairs to borrow glasses. (I get the distinct impression Erin didn't plan much for this party, as the only thing she mentioned doing was cleaning. To be fair, the cleaning probably took a long time.)
The basement is where the kitchen is and the huge table everyone eats at. I'd been down here a couple of times before. As Jamie and I trooped down there, we found one group of people trying to study. (Someone later mentioned that Erin had probably pissed her housemates off by having this party at this time of year.) When we turned into the dining area, there were Marguerite and Virginia. I said hi to both of them, kind of surprised to see Virginia but not so much to see Marguerite as she lives there. They both looked like they were working on homework, Virginia with her computer out. Marguerite was working on an art project. Part of her project was to illustrate some things, including a poem I had offered to let her use. I asked her if that part was done, and she said not yet.
"I love that poem!" she gushed. "You said some very true things and I love that you used a snake!" (The snake was part of an image in the poem.
I was totally touched that she liked it so much.
Jamie and I got our glasses and headed upstairs. We cheered and drank.
I got to talk to Anne, who I haven't seen in ages. Anne was wearing this really tight, really short shorts. The way her body was shaped and the way the chair was designed made it look at various times like she wasn't wearing anything on the bottom half of her body. I knew what that felt like because I feel like I have awkward fashion moments all the time.
Part of the time, I sat outside with Bobby and talked. Bobby told me about the novel he wrote while he was in high school, which was apparently about unrequited love. He implied heavily that it was written from personal experience. Bobby is not physically attractive, but he's so great to talk to that I find it hard to believe some girl would be dumb enough to turn him down.
While we were sitting outside, some friends coming late to the party came up and said hello. Mostly they just drank and fooled around, and thinking Cory was done with whatever bad poetry reading he was doing, we headed back inside.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Weinergate 3: The Prequel
So, apparently this controversy still won't die, because now people are at the stage where they chronicle past politician affairs. Mostly, I've been avoiding this, because I don't need to be encouraged to look down on politicians anymore than I already do. But then someone decided to chronicle women in power who have affairs, and since I am interested in the history of women, I had to at least read this.
The woman who piqued my interest the most was Victoria Woodhull, a presidential candidate in 1872. I guess my ignorance is really showing, because I didn't even know we had women running all the way back then. (And how awesome we did: women were running before they vote. Try to tell me now that women didn't care about politics.) The only women I could think of who ran were Jeannette Rankin and Shirley Chisholm, both who ran during the last century.
Also, I need to research more on this crazy case involving Aimee Semple McPherson. It sounds like a Lifetime movie set at the turn of the century, though I find myself sympathetic, because she campaigned for William Jennings Bryant, and there's I love about that guy.
Some of the behavior does strike me as rather stupid, such as Jacqui Smith apparently claiming pornography on an expense report. Er...that's a bad idea. A even worse idea? Taking the blame for what was apparently really the husband.
Also, I need to research more on this crazy case involving Aimee Semple McPherson. It sounds like a Lifetime movie set at the turn of the century, though I find myself sympathetic, because she campaigned for William Jennings Bryant, and there's I love about that guy.
Some of the behavior does strike me as rather stupid, such as Jacqui Smith apparently claiming pornography on an expense report. Er...that's a bad idea. A even worse idea? Taking the blame for what was apparently really the husband.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Michael Sheen's Twilight Fanfiction
This is from a while ago, but the Internet manages to push this on me several times.
Given that there are all these dramatic readings (one of my favorite involving a dramatic reading of Lady Gaga's "Poker Face"), I'm kind of wondering if this should become a normal thing for actors to do. It might be interesting what randon texts people choose from.
Given that there are all these dramatic readings (one of my favorite involving a dramatic reading of Lady Gaga's "Poker Face"), I'm kind of wondering if this should become a normal thing for actors to do. It might be interesting what randon texts people choose from.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Poetry Reading
So, picking up where I left off on my last little story, I went to the poetry reading and did manage to surprise this professor. It was sort of a relief to finally have achieved this surprise without too much ruining it.
There is always this table in the back to the theatre where they sell poetry books and sometimes other stuff, and I was back there talking to Stephanie and Lia. At one point they both looked over my shoulders and said "hey Mark!"
I turned around and, indeed there he was. When I saw him last, his hair was a light blonde and it was close shaven. Now he had grown his hair out, it seemed darker, it was highlighted, and he had a goatee. I was kind of surprised by this change of look, because he had changed his look not that long ago.
"Hi," I said, a big grin spreading across my face. I was very happy to see him. "You're looking very Renaissance."
I mean, obviously he wasn't wearing the tights and those poofy pants that Shakespeare rocked so well, but I think he understood and took it as a compliment.
Mark was surprised to see me as well, which was unintentional, since I wasn't even sure if he was going to be around tonight. But I was glad he was. We got to talking, shuffling off to the side to let people in. We did the usual small chat and then talked about a teacher we had together. I had seen this teacher recently and I reported to Mark that said teacher remembered him.
This was not the whole story, but I was reluctant to tell him the whole thing. When I saw this particular teacher, he had asked about Mark and I. And by asked, he simply said "So, how are you and Mark?" There was this terribly awful pause and then I realized this teacher thought we were dating.
We aren't.
The truly bad thing is that this is not the first person or even the first teacher to comment on Mark and I, which makes me a bit uncomfortable. It's one thing when your friends know you like someone. That's normal, especially when you make your preferences to them known. But it's another thing entirely when it's just people you work with or teachers. My feelings aren't meant to be so obviously to the world.
As Mark and I were talking, Lia came over to commend us for not talking so loudly. This was a problem I had last year. (Actually, it's been a problem I've had forever, but it became of particular issue last year.)
Derek came by, and it was my turn to be surprised. Derek graduated ages ago, and although it wasn't a complete surprise to see him, it hadn't crossed my mind that I would. He sort of looked at the two of us strangely and I realized that he was probably thinking the same thing as everyone else.
I guess it's a good thing I didn't pursue a career in acting?
Mark and I decided to sit together. We walked down to some seats near the stage. As I sat down, I noticed another teacher from a few years back sit down. He was surprised to see me, and I nicely waved at him.
On a whim, I turned to Mark and said "So, how's your girlfriend?" I couldn't remember her name, though I remembered she was a redhead, very pretty, and very slim.
Mark looked a bit surprised and uncomfortable, but he said "We're not dating anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
This was sort of a lie. On one hand, I've had enough bad breakups that I know it hurts like hell, and can actually make things between other friends miserable. (And has gotten to the point where I'm usually apathetic towards dating. It takes a lot to get me interested in a guy to the point where I want to date him, and frankly, liking him isn't enough for me anymore. I have to trust him, and the vast majority of guys I like never pass into trustable.)
On the other hand, I do like Mark, and she was the reason I didn't pursue him earlier. He was already dating her when I met him. It was sort of a disappointment, but I promised myself years ago that I would never encourage a couple to break up. If the guy really does like me, he'll realize it isn't fair to date someone else, and he'll do the breaking up on his own, regardless of whether or not he knows I'm willing to date an unattached version of him.
The reading was starting up, so I didn't question Mark further. I don't know if there would be that much to say either. I think I would have just graciously offered to hear Mark out if he needed someone to talk to (always something I've needed post-breakup) but then also make clear he was under no requirement to talk to me if he didn't want to.
The reading went okay. I really like this professor, and the poetry she has been writing the last few years has been super intense and Wallace Stevens like. I've been very impressed by it, especially since it was such a departure from her earlier work.
Which is why I was kind of disappointed that she read her less challenging poetry. She read more of prose stuff, not her deep image stuff. She read one poem about sheep blocking a road, and I thought about how that was the sort of poem that would please non-poetry people.
After the reading, I introduced Mark to Derek. Mark and Derek both happen to be big fans of Arrested Development. I told Mark about how Derek and I use to refer to one another as "Hey Hermano," which is a reference to the show. (There's actually a slightly longer story there, but one I won't bore you with.)
Mark and I continued talking, slightly in the corner. I told him about my roommate fiasco from a few months ago. I told him about how I was raised by a master of passive aggressiveness, who was also raised by a master of passive aggressiveness, so really, I was quite good at being that way.
"I can make anything sound passive aggressive," I said. "Even something like 'yeah, okay.'" I emphasized the words so that they sounded the opposite of "yeah" and "okay."
There is always this table in the back to the theatre where they sell poetry books and sometimes other stuff, and I was back there talking to Stephanie and Lia. At one point they both looked over my shoulders and said "hey Mark!"
I turned around and, indeed there he was. When I saw him last, his hair was a light blonde and it was close shaven. Now he had grown his hair out, it seemed darker, it was highlighted, and he had a goatee. I was kind of surprised by this change of look, because he had changed his look not that long ago.
"Hi," I said, a big grin spreading across my face. I was very happy to see him. "You're looking very Renaissance."
I mean, obviously he wasn't wearing the tights and those poofy pants that Shakespeare rocked so well, but I think he understood and took it as a compliment.
Mark was surprised to see me as well, which was unintentional, since I wasn't even sure if he was going to be around tonight. But I was glad he was. We got to talking, shuffling off to the side to let people in. We did the usual small chat and then talked about a teacher we had together. I had seen this teacher recently and I reported to Mark that said teacher remembered him.
This was not the whole story, but I was reluctant to tell him the whole thing. When I saw this particular teacher, he had asked about Mark and I. And by asked, he simply said "So, how are you and Mark?" There was this terribly awful pause and then I realized this teacher thought we were dating.
We aren't.
The truly bad thing is that this is not the first person or even the first teacher to comment on Mark and I, which makes me a bit uncomfortable. It's one thing when your friends know you like someone. That's normal, especially when you make your preferences to them known. But it's another thing entirely when it's just people you work with or teachers. My feelings aren't meant to be so obviously to the world.
As Mark and I were talking, Lia came over to commend us for not talking so loudly. This was a problem I had last year. (Actually, it's been a problem I've had forever, but it became of particular issue last year.)
Derek came by, and it was my turn to be surprised. Derek graduated ages ago, and although it wasn't a complete surprise to see him, it hadn't crossed my mind that I would. He sort of looked at the two of us strangely and I realized that he was probably thinking the same thing as everyone else.
I guess it's a good thing I didn't pursue a career in acting?
Mark and I decided to sit together. We walked down to some seats near the stage. As I sat down, I noticed another teacher from a few years back sit down. He was surprised to see me, and I nicely waved at him.
On a whim, I turned to Mark and said "So, how's your girlfriend?" I couldn't remember her name, though I remembered she was a redhead, very pretty, and very slim.
Mark looked a bit surprised and uncomfortable, but he said "We're not dating anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
This was sort of a lie. On one hand, I've had enough bad breakups that I know it hurts like hell, and can actually make things between other friends miserable. (And has gotten to the point where I'm usually apathetic towards dating. It takes a lot to get me interested in a guy to the point where I want to date him, and frankly, liking him isn't enough for me anymore. I have to trust him, and the vast majority of guys I like never pass into trustable.)
On the other hand, I do like Mark, and she was the reason I didn't pursue him earlier. He was already dating her when I met him. It was sort of a disappointment, but I promised myself years ago that I would never encourage a couple to break up. If the guy really does like me, he'll realize it isn't fair to date someone else, and he'll do the breaking up on his own, regardless of whether or not he knows I'm willing to date an unattached version of him.
The reading was starting up, so I didn't question Mark further. I don't know if there would be that much to say either. I think I would have just graciously offered to hear Mark out if he needed someone to talk to (always something I've needed post-breakup) but then also make clear he was under no requirement to talk to me if he didn't want to.
The reading went okay. I really like this professor, and the poetry she has been writing the last few years has been super intense and Wallace Stevens like. I've been very impressed by it, especially since it was such a departure from her earlier work.
Which is why I was kind of disappointed that she read her less challenging poetry. She read more of prose stuff, not her deep image stuff. She read one poem about sheep blocking a road, and I thought about how that was the sort of poem that would please non-poetry people.
Mark and I continued talking, slightly in the corner. I told him about my roommate fiasco from a few months ago. I told him about how I was raised by a master of passive aggressiveness, who was also raised by a master of passive aggressiveness, so really, I was quite good at being that way.
"I can make anything sound passive aggressive," I said. "Even something like 'yeah, okay.'" I emphasized the words so that they sounded the opposite of "yeah" and "okay."
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I Am a Failure at Surprises
One of my old professors was giving a poetry reading, and obviously I wanted to go. She hadn't seen me in a while, so I decided I should try to surprise her.
The problem with me trying to surprise someone is that it often gets ruined.
I decided to go that afternoon to a study room to do some reading and writing. I frequent this particular study room, and it's usually pretty quiet on weekday afternoons. At most, I've seen one person in there at this time of day, and even then, it's usually someone who just looks in and then walks away.
I went in and, for about an hour, worked. And then Chelsea walked in.
I hadn't seen Chelsea in a long time either. I was trying to remember the last conversation I had with her. I vaguely remembered talking to her about four years ago about a book series we both liked. I remembered this conversation because I didn't really know a lot of people who read this series; my best friend had introduced me to them years previous to that, and I had only spoken about the series with a man in a library once who read The Dresden Files, which I was also familiar with and was similar. I think during that conversation Chelsea also mentioned that she was really good at interviewing for jobs and that's why she was always employed. At the time this had impressed me because I had always felt like my interviewing skills were terrible. (I am happy to report now that I've learned better interviewing techniques and that I think I've even impressed some people.)
But Chelsea didn't really acknowledge me. She just sat down and read something. Oh, I thought. She must not remember me.
Not that she really should remember me. We were really friends of friends and I mean, I'm sure there have been more important people out there.
We sat in silence for another half hour, I continuing with my work. Then she looked up at me.
"Have you ever read Foucault?" she asked.
I had, but it had been a long time ago. And because I had found him frustratingly difficult in English, I had looked up a passage in the original French. It had been easier to understand, but that was all I remembered.
Chelsea talked to me about some of Foucault's ideas. She mentioned being in a particular class, which Kristina was also in. (And had mentioned I should come to just to see what it was like.)
Chelsea, as a fellow feminist, was not so sure she liked the ideas of Foucault. He said some problematic things about women.
"I always interpreted Foucault to be saying simply what is and not how things should be. I don't think his statements are meant to be interpreted as him endorsing that view, just observing it."
She nodded her head, looking far away. "That sounds like something Foucault would say."
I smiled. Now that was a compliment. Alex had liked Foucault. It was one of the things we had talked about in the interview. Alex had said how beautiful she found his writing.
I suddenly realized that I had a question for Chelsea. "Are you one of the people from that feminist organization that recently formed?"
"I'm not really part of it. That's Bianca."
That surprised me. Bianca and I had been in a class together last year. She had been relatively quiet. Despite this, it had been obvious to me she was thoughtful and way cooler than I am (though, I would argue pretty much everyone is cooler than me.)
I made a mental note, if I ran into Bianca anytime soon, that I should tell her how much I had admired her work. Erin had told me all about it.
"Are you going to the poetry reading tonight?" So Chelsea must have known more about me than I anticipated, because she remembered that I worked with that professor.
"I am, but she doesn't know I'm coming, so don't tell anyone I'm here. It's a surprise."
Seeing Chelsea was really nice, but I had to go over to Nate's to get some stuff and to have dinner, so I said goodbye and left. I was turning the corner on the stairway, thinking merrily of how much I liked Chelsea and how I was going to get to see people tonight at this reading, when I was startled to see Stephanie, three steps down from me, staring up at me. Her eyes went wide.
And this wasn't just Stephanie my friend. She was also Stephanie, the assistant to this professor.
She hadn't seen me in a long time either.
Oh shit, I thought.
"Don't tell her I'm here!" I said, slightly loud. "I don't want her to know I'm coming tonight! I'm trying to surprise her!"
See what I mean about surprises? Hours before the surprise, I manage to run into two people who actually could blow it. This was especially annoying considering how long I'd been planning this.
Stephanie sort of laughed at me and was happy to see me. She gave me this great big hug that made me feel great. (Oh, to have a thousand friend hugs that I could store in a chest somewhere.) She wanted to hear what I was up to, and we talked briefly before both of us had to be elsewhere.
I went over to Nate's. It had been his birthday recently, and he had all sorts of coupons for free food. That night, he was taking me out for pizza.
The problem with me trying to surprise someone is that it often gets ruined.
I decided to go that afternoon to a study room to do some reading and writing. I frequent this particular study room, and it's usually pretty quiet on weekday afternoons. At most, I've seen one person in there at this time of day, and even then, it's usually someone who just looks in and then walks away.
I went in and, for about an hour, worked. And then Chelsea walked in.
But Chelsea didn't really acknowledge me. She just sat down and read something. Oh, I thought. She must not remember me.
Not that she really should remember me. We were really friends of friends and I mean, I'm sure there have been more important people out there.
We sat in silence for another half hour, I continuing with my work. Then she looked up at me.
I had, but it had been a long time ago. And because I had found him frustratingly difficult in English, I had looked up a passage in the original French. It had been easier to understand, but that was all I remembered.
Chelsea talked to me about some of Foucault's ideas. She mentioned being in a particular class, which Kristina was also in. (And had mentioned I should come to just to see what it was like.)
Chelsea, as a fellow feminist, was not so sure she liked the ideas of Foucault. He said some problematic things about women.
"I always interpreted Foucault to be saying simply what is and not how things should be. I don't think his statements are meant to be interpreted as him endorsing that view, just observing it."
She nodded her head, looking far away. "That sounds like something Foucault would say."
I smiled. Now that was a compliment. Alex had liked Foucault. It was one of the things we had talked about in the interview. Alex had said how beautiful she found his writing.
I suddenly realized that I had a question for Chelsea. "Are you one of the people from that feminist organization that recently formed?"
"I'm not really part of it. That's Bianca."
That surprised me. Bianca and I had been in a class together last year. She had been relatively quiet. Despite this, it had been obvious to me she was thoughtful and way cooler than I am (though, I would argue pretty much everyone is cooler than me.)
I made a mental note, if I ran into Bianca anytime soon, that I should tell her how much I had admired her work. Erin had told me all about it.
"Are you going to the poetry reading tonight?" So Chelsea must have known more about me than I anticipated, because she remembered that I worked with that professor.
"I am, but she doesn't know I'm coming, so don't tell anyone I'm here. It's a surprise."
Seeing Chelsea was really nice, but I had to go over to Nate's to get some stuff and to have dinner, so I said goodbye and left. I was turning the corner on the stairway, thinking merrily of how much I liked Chelsea and how I was going to get to see people tonight at this reading, when I was startled to see Stephanie, three steps down from me, staring up at me. Her eyes went wide.
And this wasn't just Stephanie my friend. She was also Stephanie, the assistant to this professor.
She hadn't seen me in a long time either.
Oh shit, I thought.
"Don't tell her I'm here!" I said, slightly loud. "I don't want her to know I'm coming tonight! I'm trying to surprise her!"
See what I mean about surprises? Hours before the surprise, I manage to run into two people who actually could blow it. This was especially annoying considering how long I'd been planning this.
Stephanie sort of laughed at me and was happy to see me. She gave me this great big hug that made me feel great. (Oh, to have a thousand friend hugs that I could store in a chest somewhere.) She wanted to hear what I was up to, and we talked briefly before both of us had to be elsewhere.
I went over to Nate's. It had been his birthday recently, and he had all sorts of coupons for free food. That night, he was taking me out for pizza.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Approaching an Answer
So, I asked Jimmy about the conversation I had at lunch yesterday. His thoughts were that I was approachable only if someone knew me. Otherwise, not so much.
I realized as I asked him how naturally shy Jimmy is. It's one of the many things I love about him. I asked him if I had scared him away, and he said no. But of course, at that point, I was already friends with Justin and Ryan, and we had those people in common.
Jimmy did note that I'm usually the one to approach people anyway, which is true at least in some cases.
I realized as I asked him how naturally shy Jimmy is. It's one of the many things I love about him. I asked him if I had scared him away, and he said no. But of course, at that point, I was already friends with Justin and Ryan, and we had those people in common.
Jimmy did note that I'm usually the one to approach people anyway, which is true at least in some cases.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Working on the Resolution
Back at work for the first time since the holidays. It was an okay day. It was quiet in the office, but I got swamped with work, most of it that I'm going to have to do tomorrow. Mostly it was the same paperwork I've gotten used to, though there was some talk about training me in new stuff I've never done before and then maybe I helped out with a small project.
After work I had dinner with Elizabeth, Jenny and Rebecca. When I sat down with Elizabeth, I immediately noticed Mimi wasn't sitting with her usual group of friends.
"Has something happened?" I asked. I already knew the answer.
"Mimi had a fight with Isabel."
Mimi having a fight is nothing new; she fights all the time, but usually with Maria. Isabel can be a really difficult person to get along with too, but I've never seen the two of them go at it.
"What was the fight over?"
"I don't know."
"Probably the tv."
Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh. "We're suppose to be adults, for god's sake."
"I mean, maybe not, it's just that every fight I've witnessed has been over the tv." And even though I've never see Isabel fight with someone over the tv, I've watched her be heavy handed with others. Mimi is not the kind to take well to that kind of thing.
Isabel has this annoying tendency to come in and change the channel to the news, even if you're clearly sitting there. Her rational is that she has to watch the news, which would be fine, but she always falls asleep anyway. I wish she'd just get a tv in her own room so she could sleep there and not annoy me.
We chatted a little about the fighting. Elizabeth had some theories on it. She thought that maybe the younger girls were just better behaved because they had a common enemy. Honestly, I think it's just a better attitude. Mary Kay gets on with people, but that's because she's nice. Mimi and Isabel are notoriously mean or at the least difficult, and mean people don't usually nice-up when someone's mean to them. They just get worse.
Faith and Jessica came around, and we all sat with each other. We chatted about learning how to drive. Elizabeth told us about being out in the snow. We had our usual good dinner. Mimi kind of wanted to sit with us, but I'm not sure about letting her round. I've already watched her be so mean to people, and she sort of has this weird need to get Jenny's attention all the time.
After dinner, I sat down to too some reading, and I ended up having a heart to heart with Jon. Jon and I have been friends for years, but we're not really close. But tonight we sort of bonded over some stuff. I was really surprised at his candor.
I really appreciate it when people tell me something true, something they are struggling to say. As much as I hate to admit it, I always thought Jon was telling me the truth, it just was an ugly one that made me dislike a lot about him. But tonight he showed me there was a sad, disappointed person inside, and it made me care for him a great deal more.
I didn't formally set a New Year's resolution, but I was thinking the other day about how I need to be more forgiving and less judgemental. Maybe this was a good way to start.
After work I had dinner with Elizabeth, Jenny and Rebecca. When I sat down with Elizabeth, I immediately noticed Mimi wasn't sitting with her usual group of friends.
"Has something happened?" I asked. I already knew the answer.
"Mimi had a fight with Isabel."
Mimi having a fight is nothing new; she fights all the time, but usually with Maria. Isabel can be a really difficult person to get along with too, but I've never seen the two of them go at it.
"What was the fight over?"
"I don't know."
"Probably the tv."
Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh. "We're suppose to be adults, for god's sake."
"I mean, maybe not, it's just that every fight I've witnessed has been over the tv." And even though I've never see Isabel fight with someone over the tv, I've watched her be heavy handed with others. Mimi is not the kind to take well to that kind of thing.
Isabel has this annoying tendency to come in and change the channel to the news, even if you're clearly sitting there. Her rational is that she has to watch the news, which would be fine, but she always falls asleep anyway. I wish she'd just get a tv in her own room so she could sleep there and not annoy me.
We chatted a little about the fighting. Elizabeth had some theories on it. She thought that maybe the younger girls were just better behaved because they had a common enemy. Honestly, I think it's just a better attitude. Mary Kay gets on with people, but that's because she's nice. Mimi and Isabel are notoriously mean or at the least difficult, and mean people don't usually nice-up when someone's mean to them. They just get worse.
Faith and Jessica came around, and we all sat with each other. We chatted about learning how to drive. Elizabeth told us about being out in the snow. We had our usual good dinner. Mimi kind of wanted to sit with us, but I'm not sure about letting her round. I've already watched her be so mean to people, and she sort of has this weird need to get Jenny's attention all the time.
After dinner, I sat down to too some reading, and I ended up having a heart to heart with Jon. Jon and I have been friends for years, but we're not really close. But tonight we sort of bonded over some stuff. I was really surprised at his candor.
I really appreciate it when people tell me something true, something they are struggling to say. As much as I hate to admit it, I always thought Jon was telling me the truth, it just was an ugly one that made me dislike a lot about him. But tonight he showed me there was a sad, disappointed person inside, and it made me care for him a great deal more.
I didn't formally set a New Year's resolution, but I was thinking the other day about how I need to be more forgiving and less judgemental. Maybe this was a good way to start.
Monday, November 1, 2010
This Year's Costume Report
I started out the evening doing something I don't usually like to do: trying to get people to come with me. Maybe it's just the people I have befriended, but it seems like over the last three or four years I'm always trying to go out and do something fun and whoever is just wanting to be a homebody. Which would be fine, if I wasn't a young woman and could just go out on my own whenever I wanted.
This time, it was Jackie and Camilla who didn't want to come out. Even though it's Halloween, Jackie was basically not interested in going out. Camilla said she would come if Jackie would too, so that meant it was just Inga and me.
Inga and I stopped to get some pizza on the way. I had a huge dinner of pasta, rice, and peas, so I wasn't hungry in the least. She ate her pizza while we chatted. Inga told me all about her Grandma and how sick she was.
I was bundled up tight, which sort of ruined my witch costume, but it was so cold. As we walked the streets, people were dressed in all sorts of costumes. Most of them were typical costumes. Inga told me that she wasn't use to celebrating Halloween as this big thing. I wish Halloween was bigger, frankly, but I'm always so busy, I never have time to do something like get a fancy costume or make my own. (Which is exasperated by the fact I haven't sewn anything in years, so making something might be a disaster the first time I try.)
We were mostly out to see and be seen. And we totally caught some good costumes. We saw a little girl as some kind of ghost or goblin. Her face was painted white with black outlining her mouth and eyes. She had this cane with a skull on the end of it.
At one point, a bunch of actual firefighters came by and I said "Wow, look at those firefighter costumes! They look totally real." An older man standing nearby laughed.
Also saw an Uncle Fester, who I got a great picture of. The light hit his eyes just right so that they looked like they were glowing. Later on in the night I saw a Wednesday.
One of the costumes I saw three of was a Barbie in a Box. Really clever, which I like, but I wasn't expecting this to be the popular costume of the night. (I was going to guess Lady Gaga, who I didn't see once.) One of the other popular costumes was Michael Jackson, which I was expecting after he passed away last year, but I didn't think he would be popular this year as well.
I did spot one guy that I think was trying to pull off steampunk (he had the goggles) but he was wearing really bright clothing, so it was hard to tell if this was what he was really going for.
I was surprised by how normal most people's costumes were. Some years people do really different, weird, esoteric stuff. This time almost everything was some kind of person and there were few abstract or object costumes, though I did spot a Rubik cube, the only one I've ever seen. Someone else was what I think was suppose to be a hand, which gave me the idea of someone dressing up as the Michigan Hand, maybe with major cities indicated, the way Michiganders always do. Probably people didn't want to do weird costumes because it's hard to explain. I saw one man covered in spoons, for example, and I still don't get what that was meant to be.
Most importantly, I caught an entire group of boys dressed as Greco-Roman soldiers. If I had to guess, I would say they were probably Spartans! I wanted to scream at them "Tonight we dine IN HELL!"
After a while Inga wanted to go. My fingers were getting stiff from the cold, so we started walking home. We spotted a woman dressed as a cat who had climbed up the side of a building.
Then, right as we were a block away, I noticed my phone, Sir Chip Flip with the Roam Roam, was gone. I didn't panic as much as I thought I was going to, but I told Inga we had to go back. Yeah, it's a really old phone, but losing something like that is such a hassle to replace. So we walked back. By which I ran for it.
I went back to the spot where I was and started looking on the ground. There were so many people milling about that I couldn't see anything. As soon as Inga caught up to me, I was going to ask her to call my phone, opening it had fallen a way that would make it light up.
A man approached me. "Are you looking for something?" he asked.
"Yeah, my cell phone." Without even my asking for him to call, he asked for my phone number.
Just as it stopped ringing, I spotted it two people to my left, right behind someone's shoe. I snaked my arm through legs, hoping no one would get offended by my pushiness, and grabbed onto a small black thing. It was Chip Flip. Someone had just tried to call.
"Thank you so much!" I told the man. I hugged him. He was really surprised. Inga showed up and told me to get a hold of myself and we walked home.
If I had lost my phone, I would have died. My parents would have never let me forget it, which is deeply annoying, because my Mom's lost her phone six times in the past three years and I've never lost a cell phone once. (At least not in the permanent sense.)
While we were walking, some teenagers were fooling around, and Inga and I went around them. "Dude," one of the guys said to the one girl, "You better move, or that girl is going to fuck you up," in reference to me.
I turned back to look at them. "I like you wicked socks," the guy said to me, in reference to my witch's tights.
"You should hear my wicked cackle," I said.
As Inga and I moved through the crowd, I heard him shout after me "Let's hear your wicked cackle!"
We finally made it home and went back up to see Jackie and Camilla, who were exactly where I left them. (Jackie, I suspect, didn't even move herself.) I got to meet their new roommate, who's name I didn't catch.
This time, it was Jackie and Camilla who didn't want to come out. Even though it's Halloween, Jackie was basically not interested in going out. Camilla said she would come if Jackie would too, so that meant it was just Inga and me.
Inga and I stopped to get some pizza on the way. I had a huge dinner of pasta, rice, and peas, so I wasn't hungry in the least. She ate her pizza while we chatted. Inga told me all about her Grandma and how sick she was.
I was bundled up tight, which sort of ruined my witch costume, but it was so cold. As we walked the streets, people were dressed in all sorts of costumes. Most of them were typical costumes. Inga told me that she wasn't use to celebrating Halloween as this big thing. I wish Halloween was bigger, frankly, but I'm always so busy, I never have time to do something like get a fancy costume or make my own. (Which is exasperated by the fact I haven't sewn anything in years, so making something might be a disaster the first time I try.)
We were mostly out to see and be seen. And we totally caught some good costumes. We saw a little girl as some kind of ghost or goblin. Her face was painted white with black outlining her mouth and eyes. She had this cane with a skull on the end of it.
At one point, a bunch of actual firefighters came by and I said "Wow, look at those firefighter costumes! They look totally real." An older man standing nearby laughed.
Also saw an Uncle Fester, who I got a great picture of. The light hit his eyes just right so that they looked like they were glowing. Later on in the night I saw a Wednesday.
One of the costumes I saw three of was a Barbie in a Box. Really clever, which I like, but I wasn't expecting this to be the popular costume of the night. (I was going to guess Lady Gaga, who I didn't see once.) One of the other popular costumes was Michael Jackson, which I was expecting after he passed away last year, but I didn't think he would be popular this year as well.
I did spot one guy that I think was trying to pull off steampunk (he had the goggles) but he was wearing really bright clothing, so it was hard to tell if this was what he was really going for.
I was surprised by how normal most people's costumes were. Some years people do really different, weird, esoteric stuff. This time almost everything was some kind of person and there were few abstract or object costumes, though I did spot a Rubik cube, the only one I've ever seen. Someone else was what I think was suppose to be a hand, which gave me the idea of someone dressing up as the Michigan Hand, maybe with major cities indicated, the way Michiganders always do. Probably people didn't want to do weird costumes because it's hard to explain. I saw one man covered in spoons, for example, and I still don't get what that was meant to be.
Most importantly, I caught an entire group of boys dressed as Greco-Roman soldiers. If I had to guess, I would say they were probably Spartans! I wanted to scream at them "Tonight we dine IN HELL!"
After a while Inga wanted to go. My fingers were getting stiff from the cold, so we started walking home. We spotted a woman dressed as a cat who had climbed up the side of a building.
Then, right as we were a block away, I noticed my phone, Sir Chip Flip with the Roam Roam, was gone. I didn't panic as much as I thought I was going to, but I told Inga we had to go back. Yeah, it's a really old phone, but losing something like that is such a hassle to replace. So we walked back. By which I ran for it.
I went back to the spot where I was and started looking on the ground. There were so many people milling about that I couldn't see anything. As soon as Inga caught up to me, I was going to ask her to call my phone, opening it had fallen a way that would make it light up.
A man approached me. "Are you looking for something?" he asked.
"Yeah, my cell phone." Without even my asking for him to call, he asked for my phone number.
Just as it stopped ringing, I spotted it two people to my left, right behind someone's shoe. I snaked my arm through legs, hoping no one would get offended by my pushiness, and grabbed onto a small black thing. It was Chip Flip. Someone had just tried to call.
"Thank you so much!" I told the man. I hugged him. He was really surprised. Inga showed up and told me to get a hold of myself and we walked home.
If I had lost my phone, I would have died. My parents would have never let me forget it, which is deeply annoying, because my Mom's lost her phone six times in the past three years and I've never lost a cell phone once. (At least not in the permanent sense.)
While we were walking, some teenagers were fooling around, and Inga and I went around them. "Dude," one of the guys said to the one girl, "You better move, or that girl is going to fuck you up," in reference to me.
I turned back to look at them. "I like you wicked socks," the guy said to me, in reference to my witch's tights.
"You should hear my wicked cackle," I said.
As Inga and I moved through the crowd, I heard him shout after me "Let's hear your wicked cackle!"
We finally made it home and went back up to see Jackie and Camilla, who were exactly where I left them. (Jackie, I suspect, didn't even move herself.) I got to meet their new roommate, who's name I didn't catch.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Ruth's Stories
Sometimes I accidentally have long conversations with people. Usually they're with people I love who make me laugh. Last night it was Ruth.
Ruth and I have only recently become friends, but we're apparently those friends who meet and then a few weeks later are best friends. (Last year, I did the same thing with Mark. He asks me about something in a class and three weeks later we're having two and a half hour conversations with lots of giggles. By this past April, we would run into each other in the street and ten friends would pass by, each wondering why we were having such enthusiastic conversations that last three hours when they're supposed to be ten.)
Ruth has got all sorts of fun stories. She used to work in a MP's office. She said that it was an awful job, just because the MP was a complete disappointment and because she had to deal with strange situations.
"We had to scan everything that came in and out of the office for records, which was fine, except the scanner was in one room and the computer that would actually make the scanner scan was in another room. You'd have to walk back and forth scanning in four hundred pages. At one point I suggested two people do it, one to flip the paper and the other to press the button, and they thought it was brilliant, but no one ever helped me."
Apparently a lot of people would call asking for asylum, which was fine, except no one could write anything down about anyone, so usually Ruth would have no contact information for them.
"The phone number they had wouldn't work and the ten different emails they had would just come back as one of those failed to send notices, so I started guessing what the email address probably was. Changing certain numbers, adding an s here, that sort of thing. Finally I got one of those emails to work."
Ugh. Incompetent people are able to have jobs all the time and they make so much extra unnecessary work.
The final straw was the schizophrenic who would call in. She apparently believed that the government, elements of the police and a few lawyers were conspiring against her, and she would call the MP's office over it. Ruth would apparently listen to her on the phone, with her head down, because she would call several times a day. Which was apparently better than her emailing six times a day.
"Usually, if it was mildly diverting, I would listen to her for twenty minutes, or if she was really upset, I'd give her forty."
I don't even give some of my friends forty minutes on the phone. And I'd love to talk to Dan like that, but he's always rushing to get off.
I suggested maybe this woman get some help, since it sounds like the government was far too incompetent to possibly be conspiring against her. On the other hand, Ruth's making my job, with minimal human contact, lots of books and research, and fellow employees I actually like, sound awesome. I already was pleased as punch with this work, but you know, it's good to be reminded of how bad it could be.
Ruth and I have only recently become friends, but we're apparently those friends who meet and then a few weeks later are best friends. (Last year, I did the same thing with Mark. He asks me about something in a class and three weeks later we're having two and a half hour conversations with lots of giggles. By this past April, we would run into each other in the street and ten friends would pass by, each wondering why we were having such enthusiastic conversations that last three hours when they're supposed to be ten.)
Ruth has got all sorts of fun stories. She used to work in a MP's office. She said that it was an awful job, just because the MP was a complete disappointment and because she had to deal with strange situations.
"We had to scan everything that came in and out of the office for records, which was fine, except the scanner was in one room and the computer that would actually make the scanner scan was in another room. You'd have to walk back and forth scanning in four hundred pages. At one point I suggested two people do it, one to flip the paper and the other to press the button, and they thought it was brilliant, but no one ever helped me."
Apparently a lot of people would call asking for asylum, which was fine, except no one could write anything down about anyone, so usually Ruth would have no contact information for them.
"The phone number they had wouldn't work and the ten different emails they had would just come back as one of those failed to send notices, so I started guessing what the email address probably was. Changing certain numbers, adding an s here, that sort of thing. Finally I got one of those emails to work."
Ugh. Incompetent people are able to have jobs all the time and they make so much extra unnecessary work.
The final straw was the schizophrenic who would call in. She apparently believed that the government, elements of the police and a few lawyers were conspiring against her, and she would call the MP's office over it. Ruth would apparently listen to her on the phone, with her head down, because she would call several times a day. Which was apparently better than her emailing six times a day.
"Usually, if it was mildly diverting, I would listen to her for twenty minutes, or if she was really upset, I'd give her forty."
I don't even give some of my friends forty minutes on the phone. And I'd love to talk to Dan like that, but he's always rushing to get off.
I suggested maybe this woman get some help, since it sounds like the government was far too incompetent to possibly be conspiring against her. On the other hand, Ruth's making my job, with minimal human contact, lots of books and research, and fellow employees I actually like, sound awesome. I already was pleased as punch with this work, but you know, it's good to be reminded of how bad it could be.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Research Work
Work today was mostly uneventful. Jocelyn had left me an email with the directions to print out two copies of a file for her, which I did. I noticed after I did it that it had been sent to print four pages onto one page, which made everything small, but since that was the way the file was set, I didn't mess with it. And then I left it on her desk.
Then I continued on my research of a particular project. After a while, Jocelyn came in and said she wanted them to be one page on one page, so I changed the files settings and printed out another two copies. The file was at least 200 pages, so this was a massive print job. I was half expecting the printer to run out of paper, or if I was really unlucky, ink. I feel a little bad about it because I hate wasting paper on anything, and I managed to do that unintentionally.
Then I sat down and worked through more research. And that was my entire day.
This job is nice, but sometimes really isolating. Also, I need to get busy because people are going to ask what the heck I'm doing all the time. (At this point it looks like not much, but this is one of those things where it looks like nothing right near the end.)
The boss wasn't in today at all, which is too bad, because I like talking to her.
Also, everyone else left early today, so I just let myself out fifteen minutes early. People here are pretty loose on schedules and you know when people are leaving because it's customary to say goodbye.
Then I continued on my research of a particular project. After a while, Jocelyn came in and said she wanted them to be one page on one page, so I changed the files settings and printed out another two copies. The file was at least 200 pages, so this was a massive print job. I was half expecting the printer to run out of paper, or if I was really unlucky, ink. I feel a little bad about it because I hate wasting paper on anything, and I managed to do that unintentionally.
Then I sat down and worked through more research. And that was my entire day.
This job is nice, but sometimes really isolating. Also, I need to get busy because people are going to ask what the heck I'm doing all the time. (At this point it looks like not much, but this is one of those things where it looks like nothing right near the end.)
The boss wasn't in today at all, which is too bad, because I like talking to her.
Also, everyone else left early today, so I just let myself out fifteen minutes early. People here are pretty loose on schedules and you know when people are leaving because it's customary to say goodbye.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Meltdowns and Mistakes
Ashley and I have been working a lot together the last week (which is part of why I haven't been posting as much lately. Sorry, guys. Will try to do better in the future.) Mostly, work's been fine.
We do have the occasional child meltdown, which I always feel bad about. A woman with three kids, two older boys and the youngest, a girl, came in. The girl was told she could choose only one thing, and she immediately began to cry. (It was later in the day, so that might have been part of it.) Watching her face crumble made me so bad for anyone.
Another woman asked me for help finding something, so I walked with her to another part of the store to find her something. She had thankfully asked for something I knew exactly where it was.
"Do you get criers a lot?" she asked.
"Just today."
"Oh, you're a saint!"
Just hearing that (especially from a woman who looked like a Mom) made me feel a lot better.
The next day, an older woman was looking for a certain thing, and I led her to that area of the store. I noticed that some, though not every one of them, were marked 75% off. When ever anything is marked like that, it goes on certain shelves, and this was not one of them. I couldn't tell the woman that she wouldn't get her discount, but I took the others off the shelf and asked her to excuse me.
I went into the back and gave them to one of the other people working there, explaining things. Then I called the boss and took directions from her about it. ("Leave them in back, I'll fix it.") And then I went back out on the floor and rung her stuff up for her.
She told me as I was doing that she had worked as a head hunter for a large corporation for twenty some years, and that I had handled myself like a professional. She said she was really impressed and she would totally hire me, if she could.
And then this nice old lady just walked out.
This is one of the things that I've been (happily) surprised with: people can be so nice! (People have also been rude and difficult at this job, but I expected that.) The nice people make me feel so good.
So, nice people: keep shopping. It makes our days better.
We do have the occasional child meltdown, which I always feel bad about. A woman with three kids, two older boys and the youngest, a girl, came in. The girl was told she could choose only one thing, and she immediately began to cry. (It was later in the day, so that might have been part of it.) Watching her face crumble made me so bad for anyone.
Another woman asked me for help finding something, so I walked with her to another part of the store to find her something. She had thankfully asked for something I knew exactly where it was.
"Do you get criers a lot?" she asked.
"Just today."
"Oh, you're a saint!"
Just hearing that (especially from a woman who looked like a Mom) made me feel a lot better.
The next day, an older woman was looking for a certain thing, and I led her to that area of the store. I noticed that some, though not every one of them, were marked 75% off. When ever anything is marked like that, it goes on certain shelves, and this was not one of them. I couldn't tell the woman that she wouldn't get her discount, but I took the others off the shelf and asked her to excuse me.
I went into the back and gave them to one of the other people working there, explaining things. Then I called the boss and took directions from her about it. ("Leave them in back, I'll fix it.") And then I went back out on the floor and rung her stuff up for her.
She told me as I was doing that she had worked as a head hunter for a large corporation for twenty some years, and that I had handled myself like a professional. She said she was really impressed and she would totally hire me, if she could.
And then this nice old lady just walked out.
This is one of the things that I've been (happily) surprised with: people can be so nice! (People have also been rude and difficult at this job, but I expected that.) The nice people make me feel so good.
So, nice people: keep shopping. It makes our days better.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Queer Theory
I went over to the Union today to have a meeting with my friend Erin and work on our papers, the one I mentioned yesterday. While I was sitting there waiting for her, I did some reading for the class. We're reading essays on queer theory, which is fine, but whoever had my book beforehand wrote some seriously stupid notes in the margins of this chapter. At one point, she (I'm assuming she, given the handwriting) asked if the open sexuality the queer movement was espousing included pedophilia and necrophilia. Um, no. But really? Did you really need to ask that?
I'm always shocked and saddened with how many people have to ask questions like that. This year especially, I've encounter a lot of people who don't even know the basics on issues like gender, race, and sexuality. If it's not their identity, they're ignorant.
How can people live like that? Do they really believe they are the only version of human out there, or do they just think they're the only kind they should bother knowing about?
I'm always shocked and saddened with how many people have to ask questions like that. This year especially, I've encounter a lot of people who don't even know the basics on issues like gender, race, and sexuality. If it's not their identity, they're ignorant.
How can people live like that? Do they really believe they are the only version of human out there, or do they just think they're the only kind they should bother knowing about?
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Take Only What You Need
Tonight was one of my favorite kinds of night; one where I see a lot of the people I love. I really love the night life. There's something perfect about having quiet conversations in rooms, down hallways, in the street, on couches, on balconies, in doorways, on the floor. There's something nice about wandering around in the night, knowing that, despite the drama, there's always this quiet.
I went, among other things, to a party tonight for Erin's birthday. It was tons of fun. At one point, they were playing MGMT's "Kids." My friend Elena and I danced to it, and there was something beautiful in that moment. I find that one of the places I am closest to God is when I'm dancing to the perfect song at the moment. This was definitely one of those times where I could feel God inside and out, moving through and all around me. Life is not perfect, not ever, but it can have perfect moments, and this is one of them.
Now, as I sit here and think about my time here, I know I'll miss these nights. I feel like this is happiness: knowing that you have a home and that there's a family there who loves you. Whether or not they leave the light on hoping you knock.
I went, among other things, to a party tonight for Erin's birthday. It was tons of fun. At one point, they were playing MGMT's "Kids." My friend Elena and I danced to it, and there was something beautiful in that moment. I find that one of the places I am closest to God is when I'm dancing to the perfect song at the moment. This was definitely one of those times where I could feel God inside and out, moving through and all around me. Life is not perfect, not ever, but it can have perfect moments, and this is one of them.
Now, as I sit here and think about my time here, I know I'll miss these nights. I feel like this is happiness: knowing that you have a home and that there's a family there who loves you. Whether or not they leave the light on hoping you knock.
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