My need to rant about things has encouraged me to pick up this blog, two years later. For a while I just didn't really have anything to say, but a reoccuring experience I've had in the last few weeks has left me feeling the need to throw my thoughts out into the ether again.
So here's the scenario: I'm walking down the street, just a normal stroll to run some errands. I pass by a dude, and happen to make brief eye contact. The dude goes, "Hi." Now, I don't know the guy, but I also don't want to live in a world where people can't just say "hi" as they pass on the street. So I say "Hi," back. Not in an inviting way, just in a, hey, we're two human beings passing on the street kind of way.
Then the guy says something to the effect of "you look really nice" or the like. Nothing lascivious, nothing inappropriate, but by actively commenting on my appearance, now we're pushing the bounds of personal space, I feel. However, at this point, all he's done is say hello and then paid me a seemingly ok compliment. So, not wishing to be rude, I say, somewhat brusquely but not rudely, "Thanks," and continue walking.
Apparently accepting this compliment is construed as an invitation. Now the guy says -- and this is verbatim, and has happened in exactly these words three times recently -- "Can I get your number?"
OK. So, we went from, let's be civil, to ok you're a little forward but haven't said anything actually objectionable, to, completely unwanted advance.
So where should I have stopped this? I don't want to be someone who scowls whenever someone I don't know tries to speak to me. I want to be open minded, not pre-judge people, and engage with the world around me. But what should I have done differently to avoid the unwanted advance? I don't want to not say hello to someone when they say it to me. When they pay me a compliment, as I said, it's an unobjectionable one, but should I scowl at that point regardless, now that prior experience sets off the alarm bell?
This may be partly a case of the "nice girl" syndrome -- perhaps I don't want to be perceived as not a nice and pleasant girl, lest I be judged not feminine, etc. -- but I really think it has more to do with a desire not to shut off from the world around me because of a few bad apples.
I'm curious what others think about this ...
Showing posts with label wtf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wtf. Show all posts
24 July 2008
"very like a whale" hamlet: iii, ii
After the rafting/hiking excursion finished up, we met up with a few people we'd met on the tour -- a Danish couple named Laurids and Jane (pronounced "Yena") and a young American man writing a travel book named Andrew. We had dinner at, of all places, a Mexican restaurant. And I'll be damned if it wasn't some of the best Mexican food I've had since leaving the Southwest!! The family that owns it is from Mexico. This was the best part though: So, many places in Reykjavik stop serving food at like 10pm. The five of us arrived at the restaurant (which had been recommended to us by our tour guide as "really good" and "serves food late") at about 9:50pm, and were told that the kitchen had just closed. Here's where it was awesome: V. made a sad noise and said to the hostess, in his friendly way, "Tell the chef that I came all the way from Juarez just to come here!" (this is close to true -- he grew up in a border town close to Juarez.) She regarded him for a minute and said "Ok, one minute." She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later with some menus and sat us right away. Our new friends were, I think, impressed, as was I!
The next day we met up with our three new friends again to try out this awesome place called "Sushi -- The Train." It was so cool!! Basically, you sit at this long bar, and there is this conveyor belt that comes around the whole bar, and the kitchen sends out little plates with sushi on it, and you pick the ones you want and they just charge you by the plate!
From there we parted ways with Andrew, who had to rush off to his next stop on his schedule, and we headed over to the football stadium. This was my first experience at a European football match. It was Reykjavik's team, Valur, versus neighboring Keflavik. While small in scale, the energy was high. I managed to catch one or two action shots of the game:
We'd chosen to root for Valur, the team in red, since they were the home team. In the end, Valur managed to pull out a tie. All four of us bought some kind of team colors to wear at the match; Laurids and Jane each got a jersey, I got a cap, and V. got a jersey and a cap. After the match we all walked back into town and we went into a shop together. The clerk at the shop kind of looked us up and down and then finally said, "do you mind my asking why you guys are wearing all those Valur shirts?" We told her we'd just been to the game. She shook her head like that was very strange (I get the sense football's not a big draw for tourists in Iceland), and she said "Not even Icelanders wear that much color." Ok, message received. We look like tools.
V. and I went out that night in search of the great Icelandic local music scene that everyone raves about. It was a Saturday night, and we'd heard things don't pick up on Saturdays until about midnight, so we took a little rest and headed out around 11. We ran into a Dutch couple who we knew from the guesthouse we were staying at, and we went with them to try and find this place called NASA, which supposedly is the place to go for live music. So we arrive there only to find that not only is there a foreign DJ there that night but there is also a gagillion kronur cover charge. So that was no good. We ended up hitting a few bars and just hanging out and talking and people watching.
Here's my impression of the nightlife scene in Reykjavik, and bear in mind this is from the perspective of someone who doesn't really go out to bars and clubs all that much anymore, but who used to go out a pretty fair amount in NYC. Reykjavikans seem to thrive on trendiness, dressing up, and getting as pissed drunk as possible. No one's really violent or jerky, but they're all really, really drunk. Most people seem to pre-game pretty heavily because alcohol is prohibitively expensive. Not only that, but there is a line to get into almost every place you might want to go, even if the place isn't totally packed. We walked past one place that - I kid you not - had about 10 people inside, with a line of about 40 outside. It's like if you don't have to wait on line to get in, people don't want to go. Everyone's dressed to the nines, and if you're wearing something that doesn't look "smart" enough to the bouncer, you won't be let in. Some people find that awesome, I find it incredibly boring, and frankly, none of the bars there are awesome enough to warrant that kind of exclusivity. As we were heading home at about 2:30, most places were just heating up, since in general places don't close until about 6 or 7am. There was one place we passed by that had a second-floor balcony that overlooked the street, and the people up there were chucking empty bottles at passerby on the street. Classy! I can see why you'd need to get all dressed up for that.
Our last full day there, we poked around town, hit a small museum that had an exhibit about a volcanic mountain and also one about the Icelandic sagas, and then late that afternoon we were set to head out on a whale watch, along with Laurids and Jane. Now, this was the first day we were there where the weather was not picture perfect. Up until then, it had been sunny and about 65 - 70 degrees, crisp and clean. This day was very drizzly and windy, which I'm told is kind of the default setting in Iceland. So it was less than ideal weather for being on a boat, but we were optimistic.
At the dock, the people getting off the previous whalewatch were all smiles, saying things like "fantastic!" So we felt pretty good about things getting on the boat.
As we pulled out into the harbour, it started to get windier and choppier by the minute. After about 30 minutes, we got out to where they said we may begin to see some whales. Finally, we were told to look over to 11:00 on the boat, as there was a minke whale. I was standing right at 11:00, and I saw a brief flash of a dorsal fin, way too fast to get a picture. Meanwhile about 50 people pressed against me trying to get a look. Then there was supposedly something at 3:00 -- well, no way I was going to get over there, with all the people between me and there. Again at 3:00, and again. Something supposedly at 9:00. I didn't see it. The thing with the minke whales is that, unlike humpback whales, which I've seen on other whale watches, they don't even put their tails up when they make a dive. So you might see their dorsal fin for a second, but then that's it. There's no warning, really, and no big moves. The whales were all business on this day; no jumping or hanging out at the surface. This wouldn't have been so bad, but the tour guide kept trying to tell us how great these sightings were. "What an amazing sighting!" she'd cry after a brief flash of a fin. "Spectacular! We've seen four minke whales already!!" Lady, don't tell me what's spectacular. I'll be the judge of that.
Meanwhile, the wind and swells were really picking up, and I was trying my best to snap pictures of the whale fins I did see.
That last one I actually lost my footing and ended up with a picture of my jacket.
So I didn't get any pictures of whales, I barely saw any at all. Or so I thought, until I was going through my photos today (click on the photo to see it bigger):
So, there it is. I saw a whale.
This post is getting quite long, so the rest of the trip will be continued in another post.
The next day we met up with our three new friends again to try out this awesome place called "Sushi -- The Train." It was so cool!! Basically, you sit at this long bar, and there is this conveyor belt that comes around the whole bar, and the kitchen sends out little plates with sushi on it, and you pick the ones you want and they just charge you by the plate!
From there we parted ways with Andrew, who had to rush off to his next stop on his schedule, and we headed over to the football stadium. This was my first experience at a European football match. It was Reykjavik's team, Valur, versus neighboring Keflavik. While small in scale, the energy was high. I managed to catch one or two action shots of the game:
We'd chosen to root for Valur, the team in red, since they were the home team. In the end, Valur managed to pull out a tie. All four of us bought some kind of team colors to wear at the match; Laurids and Jane each got a jersey, I got a cap, and V. got a jersey and a cap. After the match we all walked back into town and we went into a shop together. The clerk at the shop kind of looked us up and down and then finally said, "do you mind my asking why you guys are wearing all those Valur shirts?" We told her we'd just been to the game. She shook her head like that was very strange (I get the sense football's not a big draw for tourists in Iceland), and she said "Not even Icelanders wear that much color." Ok, message received. We look like tools.
V. and I went out that night in search of the great Icelandic local music scene that everyone raves about. It was a Saturday night, and we'd heard things don't pick up on Saturdays until about midnight, so we took a little rest and headed out around 11. We ran into a Dutch couple who we knew from the guesthouse we were staying at, and we went with them to try and find this place called NASA, which supposedly is the place to go for live music. So we arrive there only to find that not only is there a foreign DJ there that night but there is also a gagillion kronur cover charge. So that was no good. We ended up hitting a few bars and just hanging out and talking and people watching.
Here's my impression of the nightlife scene in Reykjavik, and bear in mind this is from the perspective of someone who doesn't really go out to bars and clubs all that much anymore, but who used to go out a pretty fair amount in NYC. Reykjavikans seem to thrive on trendiness, dressing up, and getting as pissed drunk as possible. No one's really violent or jerky, but they're all really, really drunk. Most people seem to pre-game pretty heavily because alcohol is prohibitively expensive. Not only that, but there is a line to get into almost every place you might want to go, even if the place isn't totally packed. We walked past one place that - I kid you not - had about 10 people inside, with a line of about 40 outside. It's like if you don't have to wait on line to get in, people don't want to go. Everyone's dressed to the nines, and if you're wearing something that doesn't look "smart" enough to the bouncer, you won't be let in. Some people find that awesome, I find it incredibly boring, and frankly, none of the bars there are awesome enough to warrant that kind of exclusivity. As we were heading home at about 2:30, most places were just heating up, since in general places don't close until about 6 or 7am. There was one place we passed by that had a second-floor balcony that overlooked the street, and the people up there were chucking empty bottles at passerby on the street. Classy! I can see why you'd need to get all dressed up for that.
Our last full day there, we poked around town, hit a small museum that had an exhibit about a volcanic mountain and also one about the Icelandic sagas, and then late that afternoon we were set to head out on a whale watch, along with Laurids and Jane. Now, this was the first day we were there where the weather was not picture perfect. Up until then, it had been sunny and about 65 - 70 degrees, crisp and clean. This day was very drizzly and windy, which I'm told is kind of the default setting in Iceland. So it was less than ideal weather for being on a boat, but we were optimistic.
At the dock, the people getting off the previous whalewatch were all smiles, saying things like "fantastic!" So we felt pretty good about things getting on the boat.
As we pulled out into the harbour, it started to get windier and choppier by the minute. After about 30 minutes, we got out to where they said we may begin to see some whales. Finally, we were told to look over to 11:00 on the boat, as there was a minke whale. I was standing right at 11:00, and I saw a brief flash of a dorsal fin, way too fast to get a picture. Meanwhile about 50 people pressed against me trying to get a look. Then there was supposedly something at 3:00 -- well, no way I was going to get over there, with all the people between me and there. Again at 3:00, and again. Something supposedly at 9:00. I didn't see it. The thing with the minke whales is that, unlike humpback whales, which I've seen on other whale watches, they don't even put their tails up when they make a dive. So you might see their dorsal fin for a second, but then that's it. There's no warning, really, and no big moves. The whales were all business on this day; no jumping or hanging out at the surface. This wouldn't have been so bad, but the tour guide kept trying to tell us how great these sightings were. "What an amazing sighting!" she'd cry after a brief flash of a fin. "Spectacular! We've seen four minke whales already!!" Lady, don't tell me what's spectacular. I'll be the judge of that.
Meanwhile, the wind and swells were really picking up, and I was trying my best to snap pictures of the whale fins I did see.
That last one I actually lost my footing and ended up with a picture of my jacket.
So I didn't get any pictures of whales, I barely saw any at all. Or so I thought, until I was going through my photos today (click on the photo to see it bigger):
So, there it is. I saw a whale.
This post is getting quite long, so the rest of the trip will be continued in another post.
16 May 2008
"this is desperate" the winter's tale: iv, iv
This clip raises so many more questions than it answers.
- Why would the nearly geriatric members of New "Kids" on the Block subject themselves to the embarrassment of a "reunion"?
- Who thought it would be a good idea to have the New Kids on the Block reunion on the TODAY show, outdoors, in May?
- Do you think anyone told Jordan Knight that wearing sunglasses in a downpour only makes one look desperate?
- Why would the "medley" of their hits contain only the tiniest snippets of their songs -- so little of them that, in fact, identifying title phrases such as "Hangin' Tough" are never actually uttered?
- Who are these girls who have lined up in the rain to watch all of this, and, worse, scream in delight?
In the early '90s when I was a pre-teen, the sight of teen boys dancing in unison while singing in tenuous harmony left me cold, despite how it caused many of my peers to swoon. Today, the sight of grown men dancing in rickety near-unison while hoarsely shouting out snippets of poorly constructed pop songs of yesteryear is just downright embarrassing.
Seriously -- let's hope this all just blows over quietly, shall we?
Perhaps that's too much to wish for:
- Why would the nearly geriatric members of New "Kids" on the Block subject themselves to the embarrassment of a "reunion"?
- Who thought it would be a good idea to have the New Kids on the Block reunion on the TODAY show, outdoors, in May?
- Do you think anyone told Jordan Knight that wearing sunglasses in a downpour only makes one look desperate?
- Why would the "medley" of their hits contain only the tiniest snippets of their songs -- so little of them that, in fact, identifying title phrases such as "Hangin' Tough" are never actually uttered?
- Who are these girls who have lined up in the rain to watch all of this, and, worse, scream in delight?
In the early '90s when I was a pre-teen, the sight of teen boys dancing in unison while singing in tenuous harmony left me cold, despite how it caused many of my peers to swoon. Today, the sight of grown men dancing in rickety near-unison while hoarsely shouting out snippets of poorly constructed pop songs of yesteryear is just downright embarrassing.
Seriously -- let's hope this all just blows over quietly, shall we?
Perhaps that's too much to wish for:
13 December 2007
" 'tis a good dog" merry wives of windsor: i, i
If you have not already seen this video entitled "The Barney Cam: HOLIDAY IN THE NATIONAL PARKS," I cannot stress enough how important it is that you immediately go and view it. (The link to the video is on the right side of the page, where you choose the format you want.)
Originally I was going to just post this without comment, allowing it to speak for itself. But then about halfway through, I started having some questions. Questions like, "Is Tony Blair's job search really going so poorly that he needs to take this kind of work?"
And, "How long did Laura have to argue with the Twins before they agreed to do this thing?"
And, "why is our Director of National Parks British?" (not that I have anything against the Brits - I love them, actually, but it seems odd to me that there's no American qualified for the job.)
And, "Are things going well enough in the world that our President has time for this kind of thing now? Why didn't I know that?"
And perhaps most importantly, "Alan Jackson? Seriously? Alan Jackson??"
It will be difficult for you to get through this whole video, but try, because it's important that you see the "blooper" that appears after the credits.
I'd love to know what the 4 readers of this blog think of all of this.
12 December 2007
"thou liest, most ignorant monster" the tempest: iii, ii
I haven't posted in over a month, but reading this article on CNN left me so astonished that I had to put it up.
"Oh, Hanukkah. That's the day the Jews killed Jesus." Seriously??
SERIOUSLY???
Look, I'm not religious, but all in all, I think I have a pretty upbeat moral outlook. And one thing that seems clear to me here is that, if, when uttering a seasonal greeting that generally implies good wishes, you are so easily turned to hate and bile by someone else uttering an alternative seasonal greeting with similar good wishes, you weren't truly using your seasonal greeting for its intended purpose. You were using it to be an asshole.
Here's what I seriously just cannot get my head around, and maybe it's because I don't believe in any "The One" true religion myself: Even if you believe you have The One Truth, why would someone believing that their differing belief is the One True one be so threatening to you? Is it because you're unsure of your own beliefs? Is it because you're a fucking moron? I'm leaning heavily towards option B.
And furthermore, if you're going to be an intolerant asshole, why not at least be well-informed about it, and not yell out a dumbass, idiotic comment such as the one about Hanukkah being the day the Jews killed Jesus. That's just plain thick, on every level.
In the end, it just depresses the shit out of me to be trying to enjoy the Goodwill Toward Men part of the secular version of Christmas I observe and to read about people - people who supposedly actually believe the other parts of this holiday - being such effing pricks.
NEW YORK (CNN) -- A Muslim man jumped to the aid of three Jewish subway riders after they were attacked by a group of young people who objected to one of the Jews saying "Happy Hanukkah," a spokeswoman for the three said Wednesday.
The New York Police Department's Hate Crimes Task Force is investigating Friday's incident on the Q train.
Friday's altercation on the Q train began when somebody yelled out "Merry Christmas," to which rider Walter Adler responded, "Happy Hanukkah," said Toba Hellerstein.
"Almost immediately, you see the look in this guy's face like I've called his mother something," Adler told CNN affiliate WABC.
Two women who were with a group of 10 rowdy people then began to verbally assault Adler's companions with anti-Semitic language, Hellerstein said.
One member of the group allegedly yelled, "Oh, Hanukkah. That's the day that the Jews killed Jesus," she said.
When Adler tried to intercede, a male member of the group punched him, she said.
Another passenger, Hassan Askari -- a Muslim student from Bangladesh -- came to Adler's aid, and the group began physically and verbally assaulting him, Hellerstein said. (continued)
"Oh, Hanukkah. That's the day the Jews killed Jesus." Seriously??
SERIOUSLY???
Look, I'm not religious, but all in all, I think I have a pretty upbeat moral outlook. And one thing that seems clear to me here is that, if, when uttering a seasonal greeting that generally implies good wishes, you are so easily turned to hate and bile by someone else uttering an alternative seasonal greeting with similar good wishes, you weren't truly using your seasonal greeting for its intended purpose. You were using it to be an asshole.
Here's what I seriously just cannot get my head around, and maybe it's because I don't believe in any "The One" true religion myself: Even if you believe you have The One Truth, why would someone believing that their differing belief is the One True one be so threatening to you? Is it because you're unsure of your own beliefs? Is it because you're a fucking moron? I'm leaning heavily towards option B.
And furthermore, if you're going to be an intolerant asshole, why not at least be well-informed about it, and not yell out a dumbass, idiotic comment such as the one about Hanukkah being the day the Jews killed Jesus. That's just plain thick, on every level.
In the end, it just depresses the shit out of me to be trying to enjoy the Goodwill Toward Men part of the secular version of Christmas I observe and to read about people - people who supposedly actually believe the other parts of this holiday - being such effing pricks.
30 October 2007
"a strange fellow here" pt. 2 troilus and cressida: iii, iii
On Friday V. asked me if I could take care of going down to the Apple store near us and picking up the new OS, Leopard, for our computers. No problem. It's a little bit of a big deal, I thought, so I'll get there a touch before it becomes available at six, like at 5:45.
So I arrive at 5:45 to find a line of people that is no joke like 200 people long. At first I thought it was only 50 people long until I looked a little more carefully to see that it had wound its way around a mall kiosk selling Dead Sea Salt beauty products (their employees' sales tactic seems to be to wait until a girl walks by and then timidly approach her, saying "Can I ask you a question?" I've never found out what the question they want to ask is because I usually say something like "oh, no, sorry, I'm in a big hurry," even if I'm walking at a snail's pace).
But I digress. So I join this line and stand there for a few minutes. The dude in front of me turns around and looks at me a couple times and gives me a little smile; I respond with a polite tight-lipped smile of my own. Finally, he addresses me.
"Here to buy the new OS?"
I look at him for a moment to see if he's for real. I am, after all, standing in a line fully 200 fricking people long, a line of people who are ostensibly all here for the same, single purpose of purchasing the new OS.
"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm standing in line," I say, finally.
He nods. Then a moment of silence, and then it suddenly strikes me to return the question. "Are you?"
"No," he says, matter-of-factly. "I'm gonna check it out, but I'm not going to buy it tonight."
I look at him for a moment in bewilderment.
"I'm just here for the experience," he explains.
Right, of course. The experience of standing in a line of 200 people for 45 minutes on a Friday night. What else is there to do?
So I arrive at 5:45 to find a line of people that is no joke like 200 people long. At first I thought it was only 50 people long until I looked a little more carefully to see that it had wound its way around a mall kiosk selling Dead Sea Salt beauty products (their employees' sales tactic seems to be to wait until a girl walks by and then timidly approach her, saying "Can I ask you a question?" I've never found out what the question they want to ask is because I usually say something like "oh, no, sorry, I'm in a big hurry," even if I'm walking at a snail's pace).
But I digress. So I join this line and stand there for a few minutes. The dude in front of me turns around and looks at me a couple times and gives me a little smile; I respond with a polite tight-lipped smile of my own. Finally, he addresses me.
"Here to buy the new OS?"
I look at him for a moment to see if he's for real. I am, after all, standing in a line fully 200 fricking people long, a line of people who are ostensibly all here for the same, single purpose of purchasing the new OS.
"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm standing in line," I say, finally.
He nods. Then a moment of silence, and then it suddenly strikes me to return the question. "Are you?"
"No," he says, matter-of-factly. "I'm gonna check it out, but I'm not going to buy it tonight."
I look at him for a moment in bewilderment.
"I'm just here for the experience," he explains.
Right, of course. The experience of standing in a line of 200 people for 45 minutes on a Friday night. What else is there to do?
28 October 2007
"a strange fellow here" troilus and cressida: iii, iii
The All Children's Theatre, which I mentioned earlier, got some nice press in today's local paper. It's great to see such a nice write-up. The print edition had some nice other photos as well.
Things are coming together nicely for the Gala. I have my first rehearsal for the Empire Revue tomorrow evening after work. I actually got a little ahead on my schoolwork last night. It's been a pretty good couple of days from that standpoint. And it's finally feeling like fall. I think I might make a stew later this week. MMM MM good!
I was waiting for a bus this afternoon after class; I had changed into my street clothes and looked, I don't know, ok, I guess. And this dude walks by me, this young dude, like 22 maybe, and goes "Excuse me, miss, could I get your number?" ("Excuse me, miss"?! I guess at least he didn't say "ma'am".)
I just looked at him somewhat incredulously. He looked back at me with this almost shy look on his face, like he was really hoping this forthright approach would be effective. He goes "nah, you don't want to, huh." "No, not really." "Ok, have a good one." And he sauntered off.
I just don't understand what goes through people's heads sometimes.
Things are coming together nicely for the Gala. I have my first rehearsal for the Empire Revue tomorrow evening after work. I actually got a little ahead on my schoolwork last night. It's been a pretty good couple of days from that standpoint. And it's finally feeling like fall. I think I might make a stew later this week. MMM MM good!
I was waiting for a bus this afternoon after class; I had changed into my street clothes and looked, I don't know, ok, I guess. And this dude walks by me, this young dude, like 22 maybe, and goes "Excuse me, miss, could I get your number?" ("Excuse me, miss"?! I guess at least he didn't say "ma'am".)
I just looked at him somewhat incredulously. He looked back at me with this almost shy look on his face, like he was really hoping this forthright approach would be effective. He goes "nah, you don't want to, huh." "No, not really." "Ok, have a good one." And he sauntered off.
I just don't understand what goes through people's heads sometimes.
18 October 2007
"this is mere madness" hamlet: v, i
Here's how I know that I'm not quite right in the head all the time.
This morning I text messaged a friend I knew was dealing with something unpleasant. "How're you doing?" I texted.
About 5 minutes later I got a text message back:
"Fine thanks."
And rather than thinking to myself "Oh, good, she's 'fine thanks'," what I thought was "Is she mad at me? 'Fine thanks'? What does that mean? I think she's pissed at me for something. Did I say something wrong??"
I somehow managed to read into the phrase "Fine, thanks." In a text message.
But wait, it gets better:
So this afternoon, I texted someone else. I said "How about a movie tonight?"
Ten minutes later I received the following:
"Sure."
"'SURE'?!" I thought. "What have I done to make him mad?"
I don't know what answer I would have preferred. Maybe "yeah, that sounds fun" would have made me feel less insecure. But I don't know. There's a distinct possibility I would have read something into that too. "'That sounds fun?' I think he's being sarcastic!"
I'm going to go ahead and chalk it up to stress. I'm kind of behind on my homework for school this week, but besides that, I am working on a couple of projects for a benefit gala I'm on the planning comittee for, which I am, of course, behind on (this is me we're talking about here). In addition to that, I am also gearing up to stage manage a monthly show at AS220 called the Empire Revue, and as much as I am looking forward to it, I'm quite nervous as well. Plus I also just became a board member for the All Children's Theater, a group I was a member of all through middle and high school, and so I'm starting to think about all that that will entail. Not to mention that I need to start pulling something together for my school externship, and the fact that the holidays are fast approaching and I am going to get slammed at work here pretty soon.
All in all, I'm not that surprised that my mind is a little cuckoo right now.
Still. I see no need to read between the lines in text messages that are, let's face it, less than one line long. There's no "between" there.
This Australian PSA made me feel a lot better though:
This morning I text messaged a friend I knew was dealing with something unpleasant. "How're you doing?" I texted.
About 5 minutes later I got a text message back:
"Fine thanks."
And rather than thinking to myself "Oh, good, she's 'fine thanks'," what I thought was "Is she mad at me? 'Fine thanks'? What does that mean? I think she's pissed at me for something. Did I say something wrong??"
I somehow managed to read into the phrase "Fine, thanks." In a text message.
But wait, it gets better:
So this afternoon, I texted someone else. I said "How about a movie tonight?"
Ten minutes later I received the following:
"Sure."
"'SURE'?!" I thought. "What have I done to make him mad?"
I don't know what answer I would have preferred. Maybe "yeah, that sounds fun" would have made me feel less insecure. But I don't know. There's a distinct possibility I would have read something into that too. "'That sounds fun?' I think he's being sarcastic!"
I'm going to go ahead and chalk it up to stress. I'm kind of behind on my homework for school this week, but besides that, I am working on a couple of projects for a benefit gala I'm on the planning comittee for, which I am, of course, behind on (this is me we're talking about here). In addition to that, I am also gearing up to stage manage a monthly show at AS220 called the Empire Revue, and as much as I am looking forward to it, I'm quite nervous as well. Plus I also just became a board member for the All Children's Theater, a group I was a member of all through middle and high school, and so I'm starting to think about all that that will entail. Not to mention that I need to start pulling something together for my school externship, and the fact that the holidays are fast approaching and I am going to get slammed at work here pretty soon.
All in all, I'm not that surprised that my mind is a little cuckoo right now.
Still. I see no need to read between the lines in text messages that are, let's face it, less than one line long. There's no "between" there.
This Australian PSA made me feel a lot better though:
06 October 2007
"to hazard all our lives in one small boat!" king henry vi, part i: iv, vi
Auuugh I just find it hard to get on here and write much lately. There's always some kind of skullduggery going on at the bus stop or on the bus that I could write about, but after awhile, it just gets dull. Blah blah blah, agressive driver. Blah blah blah, disruptive passenger. All right, all right, we get it, there's wackos on the bus!!
What else is new. I've been taking a rowing class, which has been a lot of fun. The class is a gift I got from V. for my birthday. It's been a great experience and something I've wanted to try for quite a while. If you live in a town with a river where you can learn to row, I recommend it!! V. and I can't seem to help talking about "Oxford Blues" more these days though; that's an unexpected side effect of the activity. Go figure.
Oh, I don't want to forget to give a big shoutout to my sis down in ABQ who had a birthday and got engaged all in a 2 day span! Congratulations!!!
So, I've got class tomorrow so that's pretty awesome. Surprisingly, I've actually been keeping up with my work so far. It's like I'm a different person. I don't even know mySELF anymore. So it's 9:30 on a Saturday and my big plans for the evening involve 1) getting ready to go to bed and then 2) going to bed. Let's hope the scoundrels down on the street engaging in WaterFire revelry will cooperate and not be too boistrous as I attempt to sleep fitfully. Based on what I hear outside right now, things are not looking up for The Kid.
Meanwhile there is a giant fish-death happening here in Providence, I guess due to the drought we've been having. Apparently there's not enough oxygen in the water and so the fish are all just kicking the bucket left and right. This afternoon I watched probably 5 or 6 fish depart this world right before my eyes in the span of about 15 minutes, and there were dozens more floating belly-up all around them. It was a pretty depressing side note to an otherwise pleasant walk along the river. Oh, also, the super-creepy hot October weather (mid 80s!) put a bit of a damper on things. I don't think I've ever been uncomfortably warm wearing only a tank top and jeans in October before this year. Just FYI, if I see any birds flying North instead of South in the next week, I'm going to be packing a bag and heading for the hills.
What else is new. I've been taking a rowing class, which has been a lot of fun. The class is a gift I got from V. for my birthday. It's been a great experience and something I've wanted to try for quite a while. If you live in a town with a river where you can learn to row, I recommend it!! V. and I can't seem to help talking about "Oxford Blues" more these days though; that's an unexpected side effect of the activity. Go figure.
Oh, I don't want to forget to give a big shoutout to my sis down in ABQ who had a birthday and got engaged all in a 2 day span! Congratulations!!!
So, I've got class tomorrow so that's pretty awesome. Surprisingly, I've actually been keeping up with my work so far. It's like I'm a different person. I don't even know mySELF anymore. So it's 9:30 on a Saturday and my big plans for the evening involve 1) getting ready to go to bed and then 2) going to bed. Let's hope the scoundrels down on the street engaging in WaterFire revelry will cooperate and not be too boistrous as I attempt to sleep fitfully. Based on what I hear outside right now, things are not looking up for The Kid.
Meanwhile there is a giant fish-death happening here in Providence, I guess due to the drought we've been having. Apparently there's not enough oxygen in the water and so the fish are all just kicking the bucket left and right. This afternoon I watched probably 5 or 6 fish depart this world right before my eyes in the span of about 15 minutes, and there were dozens more floating belly-up all around them. It was a pretty depressing side note to an otherwise pleasant walk along the river. Oh, also, the super-creepy hot October weather (mid 80s!) put a bit of a damper on things. I don't think I've ever been uncomfortably warm wearing only a tank top and jeans in October before this year. Just FYI, if I see any birds flying North instead of South in the next week, I'm going to be packing a bag and heading for the hills.
31 August 2007
"the play's the thing" hamlet: ii, ii
Here's a catalog of some of the interactions I've had in the last couple of days. They will appear, in an homage to my favorite person, V., in the form of short plays.
1. The Watchtower
Scene: The Kennedy Plaza outdoor bus terminal. Monday morning; commuters are starting to line up at their various boarding areas. A thirtyish woman dressed in chef's pants and a tshirt, Nicky, stands slightly apart from the other waiting people in her boarding area. She is on her cell phone to her mother, speaking quietly about something that seems important and emotional. Her words cannot be heard by those around her, but she is clearly on the phone.
An older woman, Serena, approaches. She is carrying leaflets and magazines.
SERENA (to Nicky): Would you like a copy of The Watchtower, dear?
NICKY (into her phone): Excuse me just a sec, Mom. (To Serena) I'm sorry, not now, I'm on the phone.
Nicky returns to her call. Serena's face, which has until now been a mask of pleasantness, twists into an ugly grimace.
SERENA (brandishing the magazine, agressively): Take it!!
NICKY (just as agressively): No, I don't want it!
SERENA (shaking the magazine at Nicky so that it hits her hand): TAKE IT!!
NICKY: NO! Not now! (moving away from Serena, who wanders off down the street, her face rearranged back to the pleasant expression) JESUS fucking CHRIST!! Fucking Jehovahs!!
BLACKOUT
2. Once You Pop ...
Scene: The bus into downtown Providence. Nicky, a thirtyish woman wearing chef's pants and a tshirt, sits along a rear bench seat. She has a few grocery bags with her; she's picked up a few things for supper after her long day at work, as well as a snack of potato chips.
The bus stops. A young man, Jeffrey, boards the bus and sits on the opposite side of the bench Nicky is on. He sprawls out and stretches his arm across the back of the seat; he is not, strictly speaking, encroaching on Nicky's personal space, but he's treading a fine line, considering he is a perfect stranger to her.
Nicky reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out her partially consumed potato chips, and pops a few into her mouth.
Jeffrey reaches over and taps Nicky on the shoulder; it's easy for him to do so since his hand is already up on her seat back.
JEFFREY (to Nicky): Yo, could I get some of those?
NICKY (taken aback): I-I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: Could I get some of those? (indicates the chips)
NICKY: Wwellll, there's not very much left .... (she trails off at this point, meaning to indicate that since there is not very much left, she doesn't intend to share any of it with seemingly well-nourished boys.)
JEFFREY: Oh, that's aiight; I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (taken even more aback): I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (near spluttering in disbelief): Well, actually, no, I don't think you'll just take the rest because this is my snack and I'm hungry and I'm going to eat the rest!!
Mercifully, the bus pulls up to the stop at this point. The passengers all stand and begin to de-bus, Nicky among them, although she is still one stop away from her destination. She exits the bus, not looking behind her once.
BLACKOUT
3. Strangers in the Night
SCENE: The Mall. Friday night; the place is loaded with adolescents. They're loud, boistrous, obnoxious -- all the things that make a childless 30-year-old-woman sigh a breath of relief.
A thirtyish woman, Nicky, wearing a tank top and jeans, approaches the escalator. It can be admitted that she looks cute, but no cuter than usual. She just threw this outfit on quickly before leaving the house for a brief errand or two, which included the decidedly unglamorous tasks of buying running shorts and toilet paper.
As Nicky boards the escalator, a young man, Chris, probably no more than 20, boards behind her. They ride in silence for a moment.
CHRIS: (quietly) How YOU doin'?
He speaks so quietly, in fact, that Nicky assumes she is not the one being spoken to, and continues staring ahead.
CHRIS: (a little louder) I like your glasses, those are nice.
Nicky knows now that it is her he is speaking to, as she is wearing a pair of glasses that she regularly gets complimented on. However, she thinks it best not to encourage this young man, and continues to ignore him.
CHIRS: (definitely louder now) And your butt. I like that, too.
Enough is enough. Nicky turns to face Chris.
NICKY: (incredulously) Are you talking to ME??
CHIRS: (grinning sheepishly) Yeah!
NICKY: (even more incredulously) Do I KNOW you???
CHRIS: Yeah!
NICKY: No. You don't. You don't know me. That's not an appropriate way to speak to someone you don't know.
CHRIS: (backpedalling, in a slightly regretful tone) I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make friends.
NICKY: ...?....
CHRIS: ......
NICKY: Yeah, I don't think that's what you're trying to do.
Nicky turns back around and walks the rest of the way down the escalator, shaking her head in extreme disbelief.
BLACKOUT
1. The Watchtower
Scene: The Kennedy Plaza outdoor bus terminal. Monday morning; commuters are starting to line up at their various boarding areas. A thirtyish woman dressed in chef's pants and a tshirt, Nicky, stands slightly apart from the other waiting people in her boarding area. She is on her cell phone to her mother, speaking quietly about something that seems important and emotional. Her words cannot be heard by those around her, but she is clearly on the phone.
An older woman, Serena, approaches. She is carrying leaflets and magazines.
SERENA (to Nicky): Would you like a copy of The Watchtower, dear?
NICKY (into her phone): Excuse me just a sec, Mom. (To Serena) I'm sorry, not now, I'm on the phone.
Nicky returns to her call. Serena's face, which has until now been a mask of pleasantness, twists into an ugly grimace.
SERENA (brandishing the magazine, agressively): Take it!!
NICKY (just as agressively): No, I don't want it!
SERENA (shaking the magazine at Nicky so that it hits her hand): TAKE IT!!
NICKY: NO! Not now! (moving away from Serena, who wanders off down the street, her face rearranged back to the pleasant expression) JESUS fucking CHRIST!! Fucking Jehovahs!!
BLACKOUT
2. Once You Pop ...
Scene: The bus into downtown Providence. Nicky, a thirtyish woman wearing chef's pants and a tshirt, sits along a rear bench seat. She has a few grocery bags with her; she's picked up a few things for supper after her long day at work, as well as a snack of potato chips.
The bus stops. A young man, Jeffrey, boards the bus and sits on the opposite side of the bench Nicky is on. He sprawls out and stretches his arm across the back of the seat; he is not, strictly speaking, encroaching on Nicky's personal space, but he's treading a fine line, considering he is a perfect stranger to her.
Nicky reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out her partially consumed potato chips, and pops a few into her mouth.
Jeffrey reaches over and taps Nicky on the shoulder; it's easy for him to do so since his hand is already up on her seat back.
JEFFREY (to Nicky): Yo, could I get some of those?
NICKY (taken aback): I-I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: Could I get some of those? (indicates the chips)
NICKY: Wwellll, there's not very much left .... (she trails off at this point, meaning to indicate that since there is not very much left, she doesn't intend to share any of it with seemingly well-nourished boys.)
JEFFREY: Oh, that's aiight; I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (taken even more aback): I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (near spluttering in disbelief): Well, actually, no, I don't think you'll just take the rest because this is my snack and I'm hungry and I'm going to eat the rest!!
Mercifully, the bus pulls up to the stop at this point. The passengers all stand and begin to de-bus, Nicky among them, although she is still one stop away from her destination. She exits the bus, not looking behind her once.
BLACKOUT
3. Strangers in the Night
SCENE: The Mall. Friday night; the place is loaded with adolescents. They're loud, boistrous, obnoxious -- all the things that make a childless 30-year-old-woman sigh a breath of relief.
A thirtyish woman, Nicky, wearing a tank top and jeans, approaches the escalator. It can be admitted that she looks cute, but no cuter than usual. She just threw this outfit on quickly before leaving the house for a brief errand or two, which included the decidedly unglamorous tasks of buying running shorts and toilet paper.
As Nicky boards the escalator, a young man, Chris, probably no more than 20, boards behind her. They ride in silence for a moment.
CHRIS: (quietly) How YOU doin'?
He speaks so quietly, in fact, that Nicky assumes she is not the one being spoken to, and continues staring ahead.
CHRIS: (a little louder) I like your glasses, those are nice.
Nicky knows now that it is her he is speaking to, as she is wearing a pair of glasses that she regularly gets complimented on. However, she thinks it best not to encourage this young man, and continues to ignore him.
CHIRS: (definitely louder now) And your butt. I like that, too.
Enough is enough. Nicky turns to face Chris.
NICKY: (incredulously) Are you talking to ME??
CHIRS: (grinning sheepishly) Yeah!
NICKY: (even more incredulously) Do I KNOW you???
CHRIS: Yeah!
NICKY: No. You don't. You don't know me. That's not an appropriate way to speak to someone you don't know.
CHRIS: (backpedalling, in a slightly regretful tone) I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make friends.
NICKY: ...?....
CHRIS: ......
NICKY: Yeah, I don't think that's what you're trying to do.
Nicky turns back around and walks the rest of the way down the escalator, shaking her head in extreme disbelief.
BLACKOUT
25 August 2007
"by'r lady, thirty years." romeo and juliet: i, v
Well I'll be damned if it isn't my 30th birthday in about an hour and a half.
What a strange (and usually wonderful) ride it's been so far.
....
Not, as you can see, a lot of blogging went on over the summer. It hasn't been a particularly interesting summer. There have been a few things I've wanted to write about but haven't yet ... I may yet still do so. School starts up in a couple weeks and no doubt I will want to procrastinate.
Tonight I was riding the bus with V. and there was a lady passed out drunk across from us. She was rather rotund and very well endowed in the chest, so that as she fell forward with the motion of the bus her face was flopping down right into her cleavage. HOT. I was seriously concerned that she was going to suffocate in her own boobs.
Last night I guess the kids were all back in town for college starting up, so there was all manner of nonsense going on downtown here. The nightclub next door was hopping with all the little striped-button-down-American-Eagle-shirt-and-frayed-bluejeans-wearing frat boys lining up, checking out the girls, who, at this point, are simply not putting on pants -- I can only assume for ease-of-access. I wish I was exaggerating, but I swear to you that I am not joking at all when I say I saw more than one girl wearing one of those stupid-looking tunic-style tank tops with no pants, just boy-short-style underwear, and wedge shoes. My soul shrunk a little.
So apparently I'm thirty and a cranky old person now. That's cool, at least I have an excuse for being cranky now.
What a strange (and usually wonderful) ride it's been so far.
....
Not, as you can see, a lot of blogging went on over the summer. It hasn't been a particularly interesting summer. There have been a few things I've wanted to write about but haven't yet ... I may yet still do so. School starts up in a couple weeks and no doubt I will want to procrastinate.
Tonight I was riding the bus with V. and there was a lady passed out drunk across from us. She was rather rotund and very well endowed in the chest, so that as she fell forward with the motion of the bus her face was flopping down right into her cleavage. HOT. I was seriously concerned that she was going to suffocate in her own boobs.
Last night I guess the kids were all back in town for college starting up, so there was all manner of nonsense going on downtown here. The nightclub next door was hopping with all the little striped-button-down-American-Eagle-shirt-and-frayed-bluejeans-wearing frat boys lining up, checking out the girls, who, at this point, are simply not putting on pants -- I can only assume for ease-of-access. I wish I was exaggerating, but I swear to you that I am not joking at all when I say I saw more than one girl wearing one of those stupid-looking tunic-style tank tops with no pants, just boy-short-style underwear, and wedge shoes. My soul shrunk a little.
So apparently I'm thirty and a cranky old person now. That's cool, at least I have an excuse for being cranky now.
31 May 2007
"some say he's mad," macbeth: v, ii
I was walking home from work yesterday, and a dude riding a bicycle on the sidewalk came up behind me fast and yelled derisively "Look out, hippie!" Which, as anyone who knows me can attest, is an odd thing to call me, as I think I'm not really on the hippie end of the spectrum. I was wearing chef's pants, which maybe looked like something else to him (some kind of hippie pattern maybe?), but that's really all I can think of.
So we're in the new place, officially now. I mean, everything we own is in the new place. That's about the extent of it, though. It's pretty much a mattress and a bunch of still-packed boxes and us.
I'm kind of tired of nutcases. There, I said it. But then I think that I should be more compassionate; surely no one wants to be a nutcase. But there seem to be a lot more of them out and about now that the warm weather has arrived, and I have to confess that I sometimes just wish I could walk down the street without incident.
Yesterday on the bus in to work a dude was coughing (a lot) right behind me, and I could just tell from the lack of muffling that he wasn't covering his mouth. I was about to turn around and say something or at least shoot him a dirty look, but then he started mumbling to himself and it sounded kind of like he was speaking in tongues, so I decided to just ride it out. Sometimes better to let these things slide. Although in this day and age of douchebags knowingly traveling on public modes of transportation with TB, it's sort of a wash when it comes to personal safety.
So we're in the new place, officially now. I mean, everything we own is in the new place. That's about the extent of it, though. It's pretty much a mattress and a bunch of still-packed boxes and us.
I'm kind of tired of nutcases. There, I said it. But then I think that I should be more compassionate; surely no one wants to be a nutcase. But there seem to be a lot more of them out and about now that the warm weather has arrived, and I have to confess that I sometimes just wish I could walk down the street without incident.
Yesterday on the bus in to work a dude was coughing (a lot) right behind me, and I could just tell from the lack of muffling that he wasn't covering his mouth. I was about to turn around and say something or at least shoot him a dirty look, but then he started mumbling to himself and it sounded kind of like he was speaking in tongues, so I decided to just ride it out. Sometimes better to let these things slide. Although in this day and age of douchebags knowingly traveling on public modes of transportation with TB, it's sort of a wash when it comes to personal safety.
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