Walking into the Vienna Metro this morning I had to make an awkward decision. Shake hands with former Governor, now-Senatorial candidate Jim Gilmore, or grab an Express from the guy who stands outside the entrance on weekday mornings and hands them out...
He could have stood just inside the gateway or slightly in front of the Express fellow. Out of deference to my mother (whose overriding sense of propriety pops in my head during just such occasions[also whenever I am tempted to refer to President Bush as Grand High Ass Twat in an official sense instead of giving due respect to the office]), I shook fr.gov. Gilmore's hand first and quickly moved to get an Express. Very quickly. I'll be voting for Warner. He's had my vote since he spoke in the Bonnie last spring and, when asked, told the crowd that while law degrees and MBA's could get you pretty far, it doesn't mean anything if you don't pay attention in English class.
I'd probably vote for anyone who stumps on the importance of a liberal arts education. Hell, all Joe Biden had to do was have a staffer put a Seamus Heaney poem on his facebook page.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Woman at Border's Wanted to Know If I Would Require a Gift Receipt...I Did Not
I was trying to think the other night about the last time I actually sat down and wrote something. I really don't know. I re-wrote a story to get it ready to send out...but have not yet looked into sending it out. While I have three other stories (and two sketches) that definitely need work, I have not brought myself to get into it. I scribble down ideas on the Metro but then stop once I realize someone is reading over my shoulder. As uncomfortable as it makes me, I cannot bring myself to stop reading what other people scribble down.
I did make some progress this weekend. Tiny, inconspicuous progress. I finally bought a copy of Poet's Market. Hopefully, forking over cash pursuant to my delusions of grandeur will actually force me to, you know, pursue those delusions and send some of my shit (operative word) out.
I think the problem might have something to do with work. I don't read as much as I should. I don't know why since there are so many books I'd really like to plow through. Right now, I'm tacking Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. I just couldn't get into Lady Chatterly's Lover (then again, I may pick it up again...I think I was just getting to the good part.) Invisible Cities so far follows a conversation between Marco Polo and Kubai Khan. Polo has been telling Khan about various and sundry cities that, as it turns out, are all varying descriptions on Venice. It's interesting but I feel like I'm missing a lot the first time out.
Why am I reading this? Because I do not know the meaning of "light reading".
What do I do with this poem? If there anything in here worth fixing? I have no idea:
If you actually read this, let me know.
I did make some progress this weekend. Tiny, inconspicuous progress. I finally bought a copy of Poet's Market. Hopefully, forking over cash pursuant to my delusions of grandeur will actually force me to, you know, pursue those delusions and send some of my shit (operative word) out.
I think the problem might have something to do with work. I don't read as much as I should. I don't know why since there are so many books I'd really like to plow through. Right now, I'm tacking Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. I just couldn't get into Lady Chatterly's Lover (then again, I may pick it up again...I think I was just getting to the good part.) Invisible Cities so far follows a conversation between Marco Polo and Kubai Khan. Polo has been telling Khan about various and sundry cities that, as it turns out, are all varying descriptions on Venice. It's interesting but I feel like I'm missing a lot the first time out.
Why am I reading this? Because I do not know the meaning of "light reading".
What do I do with this poem? If there anything in here worth fixing? I have no idea:
Turkish Army
Silent except for the plastic
footfalls of army boots in snow
he cut throats in
while Marines fumbled with rifles
and gave away their position
to sleeping Chinamen—
I don’t tell him that’s not what
we call them anymore.
Instead, I avoid his stare—
ringing up the shirts he buys
for his wife in
Sicilian and will not fly,
he tells me as if the two are related.
His shoes are too white
for him to really be dangerous.
Too new and polished
to be the shoes
of an indiscriminant killer.
The Americans, he tells me,
did not keep ears like his men did
but they did not live either.
I nod but do not see the connection.
If you actually read this, let me know.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
That's nice, now could you get your hair brush out of the bathroom?
I found myself getting unnecessarily irate with my mom last night after she said the follow:
"I can't read novels, I can't read anything I can't learn something from."
This is a paraphrased version of what she said, but essentially identical to her statement (allowing for discrepancies between "can" and "don't like to"[because I can not remember which she said, the former or the latter], and for any and all emphasis created by punctuation.)
I wanted to ask her why, if it was such an apparent waste of time, did she pay so much money to have the state of Virginia teach me things from which no real knowledge can be derived. Instead, I grumbled and groused about how she wasn't trying hard enough and if she put forth the effort she could learn a great deal. That what she should have said was she "chose not to learn anything from novels because she refused to see the value inherent in them and how they are indicative of multitudinous cultures/ideas converging upon, and reacting to, one another. I mumbled something about how I had learned a great deal about a good number of things, and I was sorry she saw no value in that.
I don't know what to make of this exchange. Was it an off-hand remark? Does she really see no value in what I want to do with pretty much the rest of my life? I'm not joining the circus or running off to become a yogi (both valid life choice but would be inevitably frowned upon by mom). I want to get my doctorate. Every time I bring it up she doesn't support it, just complains that it costs to much and she does not want to see me go into debt. It is an understandable concern but I'm not going to Harvard and I'd only take out loans to pay for class, not my entire life. I only need a little help at the start of each semester so I can pay as I go.
She knows how much I miss school and how much I want to be back in classes. I don't expect her to get excited if I get in to grad school. Actually, I expect that the first thing she'll say will be something along the lines of "well, now how are you going to pay for it?"
"I can't read novels, I can't read anything I can't learn something from."
This is a paraphrased version of what she said, but essentially identical to her statement (allowing for discrepancies between "can" and "don't like to"[because I can not remember which she said, the former or the latter], and for any and all emphasis created by punctuation.)
I wanted to ask her why, if it was such an apparent waste of time, did she pay so much money to have the state of Virginia teach me things from which no real knowledge can be derived. Instead, I grumbled and groused about how she wasn't trying hard enough and if she put forth the effort she could learn a great deal. That what she should have said was she "chose not to learn anything from novels because she refused to see the value inherent in them and how they are indicative of multitudinous cultures/ideas converging upon, and reacting to, one another. I mumbled something about how I had learned a great deal about a good number of things, and I was sorry she saw no value in that.
I don't know what to make of this exchange. Was it an off-hand remark? Does she really see no value in what I want to do with pretty much the rest of my life? I'm not joining the circus or running off to become a yogi (both valid life choice but would be inevitably frowned upon by mom). I want to get my doctorate. Every time I bring it up she doesn't support it, just complains that it costs to much and she does not want to see me go into debt. It is an understandable concern but I'm not going to Harvard and I'd only take out loans to pay for class, not my entire life. I only need a little help at the start of each semester so I can pay as I go.
She knows how much I miss school and how much I want to be back in classes. I don't expect her to get excited if I get in to grad school. Actually, I expect that the first thing she'll say will be something along the lines of "well, now how are you going to pay for it?"
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I imagine it's what Shel Silverstein smelled like...
Almost everyday, right before I turn the corner onto 21st and C, there is a man walking in the opposite direction. He's always carrying two briefcases and smoking a pipe. I smile when I see him because the pipe smell is so sweet, especially now that is it getting cooler out. I have no positive associations with spicy, sugared smell but there is something oddly inviting about this foreign, familiar smell.
He never smiles back, just looks right at me like something large behind me is about to fall. Then I pass him, turn the corner, and am hit in the face by the overwhelming smell of shit. Work crews are redoing pipe right below the State Department. The pipe smell is gone and I have to go to work.
He never smiles back, just looks right at me like something large behind me is about to fall. Then I pass him, turn the corner, and am hit in the face by the overwhelming smell of shit. Work crews are redoing pipe right below the State Department. The pipe smell is gone and I have to go to work.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Trick or oh f' it...
In the time since Kim initially mentioned throwing a Halloween party, I've gone through the following costume ideas (and subsequently--sometimes almost immediately--eliminated each):
1. 1940's pin up--Cute, but not too slutty. More Betty Grable (not pregnant), less Bettie Page. Drawback: can't find a costume that is both affordable and fits my "not a total ho'bag" criterion (yes, I have one requirement.)
2. Gypsy--I have Ghillies (Irish step-dancing shoes that double as footwear of the peasantry), floaty skirts, and flowery hair wreath. Drawback: I look really bad in head scarves and everyone would think I'm supposed to be Esmerelda from the Disney version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
3. Belly dancer--See above. Add 8 million ab crunches. Negatory.
4. Can-Can dancer--already have dance strength lined fishnet stockings and character shoes. Get to have befeathered hair and bright red lipstick. Drawback: It's been done to death and I have neither the time nor the equipment (my sewing maching is ka-put) to make a decent looking costume. I would have to make it because the ones at the store are really, really awful. Also, I can't jump into the splits.
5. Lady MacBeth--Nightgowns are easy to find. Drawback: fake blood is exceedingly sticky and would get on everything...not just my hands.
6. Courtney Love--I have red lipstick and slips. I also have fishnets. I just need a tiara, heroin addition, and my dead husband's shadow to stand in forever. Drawback: I do not have a blond wig and or any desire to go get one.
7. Lisa Loeb--"Stay" is quite possibly one of my favorite songs of all time. Drawback: No one will actually know I'm wearing a costume if I just show up in glasses and a dress.
8. Clarissa (Explains It All)--I get to wear the most ridiculous concotion of patterns and colors I can think of...Drawback: no fun make-up (I might as well just stay home) and I could not convince Walt to play Sam. Also see problem with #6.
9. Daria--Could finally make use of my army jacket from The Gap. Drawback: See problem with #7.
10. Dorothy Parker--Finally, an exuse to drink martinis and act superior. Drawback: Definitely an expensive costume. See also problem with #7 and #(this time indistinguishable by action, not costume).
11. Sarah Palin--I have a suit that would suffice. I have red shoes. I can do that to my hair and I own glasses. Drawback: Sarah Palin.
12. Poetry in Motion--Very simple dress, fabric markers, and "Leaves of Grass". Drawback: Even I think that's nerdy.
13. Ballerina--really too easy as I have more leotards than I have pants for work. Drawback: Really not a costume for me. Also, I don't want to wear my ballet shoes ( pointe shoes def. out of the question) all night, they'll get ruined.
14. Sally Bowles-- I have a vest. I just need shorts and a top hat. Drawback: As I no longer am in high school theatre (and surrounded by other theater kids) I don't think anyone would get it. Even if I was wearing green nail polish...Also wig required.
15. My Last Duchess--Pretty dress and a picture frame. Drawback: No one will get it. Ever. Who dresses as a Robert Browning poem for Halloween? Who even considers it?
16. Ishmael--it would just be a name tag. Drawback: See #12 add times a billion.
17. Raver--Same essential appeal as #8. This time I get to wear more glitter. Drawback: I've never actually been to a rave so my only real experience with one amounts to a couple late night showings of Go and a very special episode of Dawson's Creek where the blonde girl not played by Michelle Williams takes some E and wants to pet everyone.
18. Marla Singer: I can probably find a thirft store dress that qualifies and can scrounge up a nametag. Drawback: I don't want to spend the entire night telling people I want to have their abortion.
19. Molly Bloom: Find nightgown. Put just a little bit of blood on the front. Talk about Gibralter. Drawback: People will presume I'm Linda Blair in the Exorist and not pay any attention to the Gibralter bit.
20. Flutterby--like a butterfly if it went to a rave. Drawback: See #17.
Right now, I'm leaning toward Katy Perry. I'll have a new idea tomorrow but I already bought falsh eyelashes so I'm wearing them, dammit.
1. 1940's pin up--Cute, but not too slutty. More Betty Grable (not pregnant), less Bettie Page. Drawback: can't find a costume that is both affordable and fits my "not a total ho'bag" criterion (yes, I have one requirement.)
2. Gypsy--I have Ghillies (Irish step-dancing shoes that double as footwear of the peasantry), floaty skirts, and flowery hair wreath. Drawback: I look really bad in head scarves and everyone would think I'm supposed to be Esmerelda from the Disney version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
3. Belly dancer--See above. Add 8 million ab crunches. Negatory.
4. Can-Can dancer--already have dance strength lined fishnet stockings and character shoes. Get to have befeathered hair and bright red lipstick. Drawback: It's been done to death and I have neither the time nor the equipment (my sewing maching is ka-put) to make a decent looking costume. I would have to make it because the ones at the store are really, really awful. Also, I can't jump into the splits.
5. Lady MacBeth--Nightgowns are easy to find. Drawback: fake blood is exceedingly sticky and would get on everything...not just my hands.
6. Courtney Love--I have red lipstick and slips. I also have fishnets. I just need a tiara, heroin addition, and my dead husband's shadow to stand in forever. Drawback: I do not have a blond wig and or any desire to go get one.
7. Lisa Loeb--"Stay" is quite possibly one of my favorite songs of all time. Drawback: No one will actually know I'm wearing a costume if I just show up in glasses and a dress.
8. Clarissa (Explains It All)--I get to wear the most ridiculous concotion of patterns and colors I can think of...Drawback: no fun make-up (I might as well just stay home) and I could not convince Walt to play Sam. Also see problem with #6.
9. Daria--Could finally make use of my army jacket from The Gap. Drawback: See problem with #7.
10. Dorothy Parker--Finally, an exuse to drink martinis and act superior. Drawback: Definitely an expensive costume. See also problem with #7 and #(this time indistinguishable by action, not costume).
11. Sarah Palin--I have a suit that would suffice. I have red shoes. I can do that to my hair and I own glasses. Drawback: Sarah Palin.
12. Poetry in Motion--Very simple dress, fabric markers, and "Leaves of Grass". Drawback: Even I think that's nerdy.
13. Ballerina--really too easy as I have more leotards than I have pants for work. Drawback: Really not a costume for me. Also, I don't want to wear my ballet shoes ( pointe shoes def. out of the question) all night, they'll get ruined.
14. Sally Bowles-- I have a vest. I just need shorts and a top hat. Drawback: As I no longer am in high school theatre (and surrounded by other theater kids) I don't think anyone would get it. Even if I was wearing green nail polish...Also wig required.
15. My Last Duchess--Pretty dress and a picture frame. Drawback: No one will get it. Ever. Who dresses as a Robert Browning poem for Halloween? Who even considers it?
16. Ishmael--it would just be a name tag. Drawback: See #12 add times a billion.
17. Raver--Same essential appeal as #8. This time I get to wear more glitter. Drawback: I've never actually been to a rave so my only real experience with one amounts to a couple late night showings of Go and a very special episode of Dawson's Creek where the blonde girl not played by Michelle Williams takes some E and wants to pet everyone.
18. Marla Singer: I can probably find a thirft store dress that qualifies and can scrounge up a nametag. Drawback: I don't want to spend the entire night telling people I want to have their abortion.
19. Molly Bloom: Find nightgown. Put just a little bit of blood on the front. Talk about Gibralter. Drawback: People will presume I'm Linda Blair in the Exorist and not pay any attention to the Gibralter bit.
20. Flutterby--like a butterfly if it went to a rave. Drawback: See #17.
Right now, I'm leaning toward Katy Perry. I'll have a new idea tomorrow but I already bought falsh eyelashes so I'm wearing them, dammit.
Friday, October 10, 2008
One more thing...
I turned in my application and all required documents to Mason. I just checked the website and it looks like they received everything so now I just have to wait and see what happens. If I get in, I have to scramble to get cash to pay for it. I'll give it a week before I start completely freaking out about that though. One week.
If this doesn't pan out, I'm opening a literary-themed tex-mex restaurant. I'm calling it "Krapp's Last Taco Stand"--obscure theatre references and the general impropriety of using "Krapp" in the name of a mexican restaurant be damned!
I make totally kick ass guac.
If this doesn't pan out, I'm opening a literary-themed tex-mex restaurant. I'm calling it "Krapp's Last Taco Stand"--obscure theatre references and the general impropriety of using "Krapp" in the name of a mexican restaurant be damned!
I make totally kick ass guac.
Metro Riders--please be advised, there is a train directly behind this one...
There is almost nothing that has the power to fuck up the rest of your day quite so quickly as having to de-board the Metro on your way to work (discovering that your friendly neighborhood Starbucks is out of coffee/closed ranks a microscopically close second...and has yet to happen to me in the Nation's Capital. Thank Jesus.)
Having said that, I can deal relatively well with even these delays. I have about a half an hour window in terms of arriving "on time" at work and there are three reliable Starbuckses within in an eight block radius. When the doors closed and repeatedly reopened at the Court House stop this morning, everyone kind of knew it was time to gather belongings and make towards the platform. When the lights flashed to alert us, there was an audible grown among the throng of be-suited government employees and bleary-eyed interns but we got politely, regardless. The P.A. suggested it was train malfunction, which is usually code for "assholes who would not stand clear of the doors" as we waited for the next train. I waited for two more trains before getting into one. Mostly because my fellow Metro riders failed to notice the large gaps at the center of the train and instead corralled around the doors, perhaps blocked by some impenetrable force-field of self-importance and "personal space", unable to move to the center of the fucking train.
It's common Metro courtesy kids, we've all read the PSA posters about collecting our bags, not leaving errant copies of the Express lying around, and avoiding the label "escalump". Can't we also scooch down the lane?
Having said that, I can deal relatively well with even these delays. I have about a half an hour window in terms of arriving "on time" at work and there are three reliable Starbuckses within in an eight block radius. When the doors closed and repeatedly reopened at the Court House stop this morning, everyone kind of knew it was time to gather belongings and make towards the platform. When the lights flashed to alert us, there was an audible grown among the throng of be-suited government employees and bleary-eyed interns but we got politely, regardless. The P.A. suggested it was train malfunction, which is usually code for "assholes who would not stand clear of the doors" as we waited for the next train. I waited for two more trains before getting into one. Mostly because my fellow Metro riders failed to notice the large gaps at the center of the train and instead corralled around the doors, perhaps blocked by some impenetrable force-field of self-importance and "personal space", unable to move to the center of the fucking train.
It's common Metro courtesy kids, we've all read the PSA posters about collecting our bags, not leaving errant copies of the Express lying around, and avoiding the label "escalump". Can't we also scooch down the lane?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
We just come this way
Saturday was Ian's wedding so naturally Kora stayed with us to give her newly official-entwined parents some much needed alone time. She had about three pounds of icing at the reception as she spent a good part of the afternoon methodically de-icing each piece of cake in her vicinity and dipping butter cream covered fingers in sugar. Because of this she was pinging well into the evening.
The next day, while we were getting ready to hand her off to Jen's sister, she decided to take all of Bagel's stuffed toys out of her crate and play with them. The only problem is that puppies and toddlers do no play the same way and Bagel was in no mood for frivolity. Kora proceed to take the stuffed rat (from IKEA and one of Bager-meister's favorites) and carry it around the house. It was funny until it was time to head out and Kora did not want to part with the rodent.
A fit of sorts insued. Kora calmed down when I asked her want she was going to do at Aunt Kristen's. She started jabbering, quickly stopped, and asked if we could relocate our dicussion to the bathroom because it was secret. It was not especially secret and relocating the the bathroom meant walking through the door in front of which we had been standing. All the same, it's proof posivite that girls are not trained so much a spring forth like some glitter obssessed Athena, fully formed and desirous of new shoes.
...She also asked for clothes for her birthday.
The next day, while we were getting ready to hand her off to Jen's sister, she decided to take all of Bagel's stuffed toys out of her crate and play with them. The only problem is that puppies and toddlers do no play the same way and Bagel was in no mood for frivolity. Kora proceed to take the stuffed rat (from IKEA and one of Bager-meister's favorites) and carry it around the house. It was funny until it was time to head out and Kora did not want to part with the rodent.
A fit of sorts insued. Kora calmed down when I asked her want she was going to do at Aunt Kristen's. She started jabbering, quickly stopped, and asked if we could relocate our dicussion to the bathroom because it was secret. It was not especially secret and relocating the the bathroom meant walking through the door in front of which we had been standing. All the same, it's proof posivite that girls are not trained so much a spring forth like some glitter obssessed Athena, fully formed and desirous of new shoes.
...She also asked for clothes for her birthday.
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