You can't really see the snow, but generally that building in the background is clear as day; the fogginess is actually snow.
I actually love stormy days like this. There's nothing any of us can do about it but deal with it, and somehow that appeals to me. I had something I was supposed to do this afternoon, and it got postponed, and what are ya gonna do?
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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:
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.
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.
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.
I'm back, baby, and better than ever! It's been a while but here I am! Moved in, almost settled, finished with school all the way until September ..... yeee haaaahhhhhhh!
I do love the Downcity lifestyle. Little old PVD is getting there, it really is. Saturday afternoon I found myself NOT to be the only person poking around on Westminister St.; there was quite a nice little flow of people to and fro. The Providence Gay Pride Parade zoomed right in front of our apartment and lots of good times were had. I'm a nice little Saturday morning walk away from Nick's on Broadway.
Last evening I found myself back on the East Side for a little while; I was laying out on the Brown Green, reading, when I heard some music coming from down the street. I walked over to investigate and found these guys warming up. Then they formed up and headed over to what looked like an opening barbeque party for the Brown summer high school program. They were fun and pretty good too.
When I got home, I was lying asleep in bed - blissfully asleep, I think it should be noted - when I suddenly heard on the street below me the same now familiar semi-cacophonous sounds of a brass band, penetrating right through my closed window. I glanced bleary-eyed at the clock; the numbers 1:30 swam before my eyes.
I don't own a TV. I don't own a car. Blah blah blah, I eat organic and local. Pftthb. The fact is, I am sitting in my apartment, positively basking in the Central Air. It's a hot and hazy and humid day out there. And I'm not suffering. I'm sitting back, sipping on a nice cold Sanbitter, listening to the Pet Shop Boys and getting ready to prep for class tomorrow, and dammit, I'm enjoying the temperate room.
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.
I just watched the Sanbitter video like 3 times rapid-fire. It's mesmerizing. Oh, and I have studying I'm supposed to be doing, so that makes it more transfixing.
I was walking past this really seedy bar this afternoon just as the Preakness was finishing up. I heard this guy yelling at the top of his lungs "Get up there! Get up there!" and then he cheered so loudly I could hear him down the block. I guess he had a little bit of money on the winning horse. I can only hope for his sake it's enough to upgrade to a different bar; the one he was in advertised in the window that they had no public restrooms.
Oh, also, I just read this headline: "Study: Vitamin overuse could lead to cancer." Nice."A new study from the National Cancer Institute suggests a link between heavy use of multivitamins and increased risk for prostate cancer." Nutrition is getting to be more and more of a lose-lose proposition.
I just watched the Sanbitter video again. The guy's wearing a piano tie. It's awesome. It's awesome in the "it makes no sense" kind of way. If I understood Italian it would probably just be lame, but since Italian is just about as decipherable as Klingon for me, it's just pleasantly nonsensical.
And much better than learning the reason why glycerine is added to rolled fondant. (The reason is to make it more pliable and to prevent it from cracking and tearing when used.)
I'm excited to be moving, but, ugh, is there anything worse than moving? Packing. The pits. There's nothing for it but to just grab a box and start putting stuff in it. Try to keep organized, but by the end, there's a good chance that everything will get smushed together. The place we're moving to is smaller, too, so we're also supposed to purge as we go, and that makes it tougher too, or at any rate, more time consuming. My worry is that at first I'll be holding on to things sentimentally that I don't really want to keep, but that in the end, as the clock ticks down I'll start ruthlessly ditching things I will regret getting rid of in the long run. On the bright side, the clock's already ticking down, so maybe I'll just keep an even keel.
My favorite beverage at the moment is Pellegrino's Sanbitter (that link is great if you, uh, speak or read Italian; actually, it's pretty great even if you don't; I highly recommend clicking on the "videoclip" section). The bottle is cute as a button, sure, and that appeals to me, as does the ruby red syrupyness of the drink. But more than that, it has this great sweet/bitter combo that I just love. It's a nonalcoholic version of Campari. Yum. Plus it gives you a SWEET red tongue when you drink it!
There are some beautiful flowering trees around the place where I work, and they are in full bloom right now.
Imagine my dismay that when I arrived this morning to work, I saw a crew of landscapers taking a chainsaw to several of these trees, cutting them down a branch at a time, then going right for the trunks. The pink petals were all around us in the air, churned up by the vibrations of the saw. If it had been two days from now, these would have been green trees, and while I hate watching trees being cut down, it wouldn't have been as heart-wrenching as this was, watching these beautiful pink branches at the height of their bloom being chopped down like they were nothing.
Put me in a rotten mood, I can tell you.
On the bright side, I got new glasses this week, and they are wicked cool.
This morning I awoke early as the sun poured through my bedroom window. I opened my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the Spring light, and then looked at the clock, pleased to note that I had quite a while left before the alarm would go off. I closed my eyes, a slight smile on my face as I prepared to sink back into sleep.
In a later discussion, we decided that it was probably an oppossum meeting an untimely death, based on V's unfortunate observation of a previous oppossum death (by car). I wonder what kind of animal it met that demise with, however, as 'possums are fairly big and mean, and the dogs in our neighborhood are small and hors d'ouerve-sized, and would probably make a tasty snack for any 'possum worth its salt. I'm guessing it might have been an owl or something. Thing is, we live in a city; it's not like we live out in the sticks where hearing animal encounters is normal, so it was a bit of an odd beginning to the day.
---
In other news, be sure to check out V's new post on Six Sentences. Good stuff, as always.
Finally, the flowers and leaves are starting to POP!!
Spring. I have a love-hate relationship with it. Because much of the time, if I really think about it, Spring is fairly shitty: rainy, raw, muddy. But days like today, the day the flowers POP, the day the air feels like a soothing bath, the day the sunshine is finally warm, the first day you smell that hot sidewalk smell mingled with that muddy earth smell and the smell of every plant and tree waking up and waving in the breeze .... it's just so fucking gorgeous.
Anyway, that day is today, and the fact is, nothing on a day like today can make me feel sad. Even though I was dealt a minor disappointment during the day today, my attitude was magically transformed from the usual "why me?" to the much more desireable "que sera, sera!"
I feel like I can handle anything on a day like today.
Congratulate me -- I just got a 94 on a very rigorous practical exam in my chocolates class. It was very stressful, but in the end I feel like I kept a very cool head. There were a couple points where I had little episodes -- like "Do I even remember the first thing I need to do to temper chocolate??" But my cooler side prevailed, just kept my head down and kept moving.
Yesterday I caught up with some awesome friends I haven't seen or even really talked to in years. What felt especially great about it was that after just a few minutes, I felt just as comfortable with them as I ever did in high school. I'm really, really bad at keeping in touch with people, even people I love and want to be in touch with. I always kick myself for letting myself get so out of touch with people whose friendship brings me warmth and happiness, and I always vow to not let it keep happening. I hope this weekend will be a new leaf for me.
---- I feel like I want to close out with something really awesome and funny. Oh, how about this:
