What I Did on Actual Valentine's Day
On Saturday we took the bus to figure out the Catonsville route, and discovered how to get to the Walmart, the Asian Market, various shopping centers, the theater, and residential areas. Catonsville, which I hadn't had a good look at in the daytime, is a fairly nice place with individualistically painted houses being a novelty compared to the mass-produced housing developments I'm used to seeing, though of course some neighborhoods are better than others. It actually is a decent sized city, and on Sunday we walked to Giant to get pie ingredients.
In the meantime, on Saturday night I decided to drag Jeremy to watch Phoenix dance company, which is basically a bunch of our dance majors getting together to perform. It was extremely artsy; the first act, a rather ineffectual piece which thematically was supposed to juxtapose the movement of dancers with the movement of amusement park rides, was ruined by "music" that sounded like those deep industrial farting sounds the plumbing makes on occassion. And it wouldn't stop.... as a matter of fact most of the music was dissonant and discordant. They even managed to distort one of Stravinsky's string pieces through the sound system, though Jeremy said he thought their tenor speakers were just malfunctioning. The Stravinsky piece was an act titled '1914' and had the dance teacher performing solo in Russian peasant garb. She then proceded to rip it off and expose a plain white suit under it, and then pulled a red handkerchief out of her bosom. I think this is supposed to represent World War I or something or the Russian Revolution.. I was never any good with Dance, or Deep, Profound, Symbolic, Handkerchief Bosom Pulling. The dancing itself anyway was rather nice. There was a video with a girl in black crepe who was shown dancing in a forest and in a stream, so that the swirls of fallen leaves that lifted into the air and the trails of rippling water would follow and accentuate her movements, and music would correspond to her motions, like bells that would ring when she dripped water off her fingers. Also, there was a (live) show where the choreographed motions of several girls was themed after the movements of mobiles, and they had two-toned suits, with the front one color and the back another, so that the colors would blend when they spun. In the same act, there was a backlit screen so that girls dancing behind it would cast their shadows upon it, which would distort in size and shape depending on how wrinkled the screen was, and for their masterwork in set design, there were transparent, multi-colored plastic sheets suspended from the ceiling and slowly rotating, so that in the dark, ghostly images would be cast upon them by a projector. There was a token fat girl also... perhaps every dance company has one. I didn't know whether to be awed by how good she was (some of that shit looks painful... like rolling around on the ground..), feel guilty about immediately picking up the fact that she was kinda hefty, or find it rather amusing.
I feel really really sorry for Jeremy though. That was seven dollars.
Friday, February 20, 2004
Thursday, February 19, 2004
What I Did On The Day Before Valentine's Day
On Friday, we were in Renaissance Art class when the prof, for not the first time, mentioned as an aside that the Basilica of the Anunciation in Baltimore was modeled after Brunelleschi's church of Santo Spirito in Florence.
"Let's go look at it. Right now," I told Jeremy randomly.
"Sure," he said, and bought me a chocolate rose.
After lunch we went back to the room to figure out the bus schedules, wherein I found a pair of heart shaped balloons and a bag of cookies delivered and waiting for me. There was also a tin of chocolate pretzels (which I'd already known he'd bought for me because I saw him buy them) and a little cup of chocolates which I hadn't known about. I was happy but not really surprised; everything was for sale on campus.
We went to the Inner Harbor in the late afternoon, taking the shuttle bus from UMBC. We bickered about where to get off, except that a woman close to us who heard us said that we had better get off because the bus only stopped at the next place (a block down) by request. So we got off by a John Hopkins health services building, a giant cylinder of a place in pinkish granite, and walked by Camden Yards and the Baltimore convention center over a network of pedestrian skybridges, guided by signs for tourists and the unmistakable skyline of downtown Baltimore, noting the Bromo-Seltzer tower, an embrasured clock tower which we pedantically recalled was modeled off of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence.
Most public things were closed by four in the afternoon, like the USS Constellation, the grounds of Fort McHenry visible as a green mound across the harbor with a big honkin' flag stuck in it like a sandwich toothpick, and the Maryland Science Center which was in the process of getting there. The National Aquarium was open, but $17.50 for admission, so it might as well have been closed for all the good it'd do us college students.
We went to the Baltimore World Trade Center observation tower (apparently the world's tallest five sided building, which is for some reason significant). It looks very small on the outside, an unassuming building on the harbor, but is actually about forty storeys high, which... is actually still rather unassuming, compared to skyscrapers anywhere else. Still, it provided a good view of the city, under a hazy blanket of smog made pale gold by the westering sun. From one of the west windows we saw the arterial expressway through which we had arrived and followed its snaking line further west, and the line of rivers, further out, closer to the horizon. Supposedly we could see the campus from there, but the sun was blinding. Still, we looked at the keyed panoramic photo on a podium under the window, and on that, far in the distance, we could see a recognizable concrete rectangle surmounted by a green drum and a flank of red brick box buildings. Those panoramic photos, one set under each window (there were five of them, one for each side) helped us search for random things in the great girth of land splayed out under us, in a Where's Waldo fashion: In the direction of the city the Ukranian Orthodox church dotted the landscape with golden minarets (which I always thought looked like onions) and sea-ward below us the USS Constellation turned into a toy boat with its clear deck comically interrupted by three stick-like masts, and Fort McHenry was a small flattened mound with stubby cannons (and the flag was still there), and the Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse which wasn't much of a lighthouse but more like a round hut on stilts with a conical roof. There was a map of the city on a wall, which was more than either me or Jeremy had, so Jeremy memorized it, and was aided by his watch set with a compass. ("Or, you could figure out the cardinal directions using the setting sun.." "Hush, that would make sense.") I went to the bathroom at the top of the world, and was amused by the thought of my crap shooting down 400 some feet of plumbing.
Seaward, closer than we'd ever seen it before, was a graceful arch of metal titled in the key to the photo, "The Francis Scott Key Bridge." Twenty miles west there is a windy hill on which an ugly post-modern state college is built, in which I live. It is ugly most of the time, except that on the crown of the hill when me and Jeremy look eastward there is this piece of architecture that we see, a great span of a bridge which before to us had no name, and we always wondered what it was and where it went. My dad said, "Probably Glen Burnie" but now I know better. Other couples have "their song." We seem to have "our bridge." Whenever I see the bridge from campus I feel happier, and I always go, "Look! The Bridge!" when I see it even though I know it's always there. It seems somehow significant that I should know its name.
------
After we left, stumbled around east until we found Charles Street and went north up it, looking around at everything like dazed tourists. We found the Basilica of the Anunciation a few blocks up as the sky turned purple and pink, but the church was closed so we walked around staring at its columns and dome silhouetted through the wrought iron fence. Then, having kind of done what we had come for, we went back to the harbor, by which time the sun had set in full, and the Bromo-Seltzer tower was lit up in the night by spotlights of purple. We went to the Gallery, glowing yellow through panes of glass and gawked at things we couldn't afford, then went to the shops on the harbor.
We went to Philip's Seafood Restaurant and got us some nice fish and crabcakes, and also pie and cheesecake. This took like two hours. We ended up having to run to catch the bus to campus, except that we near missed it because when I was on an intersection and looked to the right and saw the JHU pink cylinder bus stop, we saw the bus speeding away from the block towards us. Jeremy sprinted to the left, towards the stop one block ahead and flagged it down like a taxi.
When we got home Jeremy discovered, beside my bag of cookies and two balloons, another bag of cookies and two more balloons, for him. ("They multiplied!")
On Friday, we were in Renaissance Art class when the prof, for not the first time, mentioned as an aside that the Basilica of the Anunciation in Baltimore was modeled after Brunelleschi's church of Santo Spirito in Florence.
"Let's go look at it. Right now," I told Jeremy randomly.
"Sure," he said, and bought me a chocolate rose.
After lunch we went back to the room to figure out the bus schedules, wherein I found a pair of heart shaped balloons and a bag of cookies delivered and waiting for me. There was also a tin of chocolate pretzels (which I'd already known he'd bought for me because I saw him buy them) and a little cup of chocolates which I hadn't known about. I was happy but not really surprised; everything was for sale on campus.
We went to the Inner Harbor in the late afternoon, taking the shuttle bus from UMBC. We bickered about where to get off, except that a woman close to us who heard us said that we had better get off because the bus only stopped at the next place (a block down) by request. So we got off by a John Hopkins health services building, a giant cylinder of a place in pinkish granite, and walked by Camden Yards and the Baltimore convention center over a network of pedestrian skybridges, guided by signs for tourists and the unmistakable skyline of downtown Baltimore, noting the Bromo-Seltzer tower, an embrasured clock tower which we pedantically recalled was modeled off of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence.
Most public things were closed by four in the afternoon, like the USS Constellation, the grounds of Fort McHenry visible as a green mound across the harbor with a big honkin' flag stuck in it like a sandwich toothpick, and the Maryland Science Center which was in the process of getting there. The National Aquarium was open, but $17.50 for admission, so it might as well have been closed for all the good it'd do us college students.
We went to the Baltimore World Trade Center observation tower (apparently the world's tallest five sided building, which is for some reason significant). It looks very small on the outside, an unassuming building on the harbor, but is actually about forty storeys high, which... is actually still rather unassuming, compared to skyscrapers anywhere else. Still, it provided a good view of the city, under a hazy blanket of smog made pale gold by the westering sun. From one of the west windows we saw the arterial expressway through which we had arrived and followed its snaking line further west, and the line of rivers, further out, closer to the horizon. Supposedly we could see the campus from there, but the sun was blinding. Still, we looked at the keyed panoramic photo on a podium under the window, and on that, far in the distance, we could see a recognizable concrete rectangle surmounted by a green drum and a flank of red brick box buildings. Those panoramic photos, one set under each window (there were five of them, one for each side) helped us search for random things in the great girth of land splayed out under us, in a Where's Waldo fashion: In the direction of the city the Ukranian Orthodox church dotted the landscape with golden minarets (which I always thought looked like onions) and sea-ward below us the USS Constellation turned into a toy boat with its clear deck comically interrupted by three stick-like masts, and Fort McHenry was a small flattened mound with stubby cannons (and the flag was still there), and the Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse which wasn't much of a lighthouse but more like a round hut on stilts with a conical roof. There was a map of the city on a wall, which was more than either me or Jeremy had, so Jeremy memorized it, and was aided by his watch set with a compass. ("Or, you could figure out the cardinal directions using the setting sun.." "Hush, that would make sense.") I went to the bathroom at the top of the world, and was amused by the thought of my crap shooting down 400 some feet of plumbing.
Seaward, closer than we'd ever seen it before, was a graceful arch of metal titled in the key to the photo, "The Francis Scott Key Bridge." Twenty miles west there is a windy hill on which an ugly post-modern state college is built, in which I live. It is ugly most of the time, except that on the crown of the hill when me and Jeremy look eastward there is this piece of architecture that we see, a great span of a bridge which before to us had no name, and we always wondered what it was and where it went. My dad said, "Probably Glen Burnie" but now I know better. Other couples have "their song." We seem to have "our bridge." Whenever I see the bridge from campus I feel happier, and I always go, "Look! The Bridge!" when I see it even though I know it's always there. It seems somehow significant that I should know its name.
------
After we left, stumbled around east until we found Charles Street and went north up it, looking around at everything like dazed tourists. We found the Basilica of the Anunciation a few blocks up as the sky turned purple and pink, but the church was closed so we walked around staring at its columns and dome silhouetted through the wrought iron fence. Then, having kind of done what we had come for, we went back to the harbor, by which time the sun had set in full, and the Bromo-Seltzer tower was lit up in the night by spotlights of purple. We went to the Gallery, glowing yellow through panes of glass and gawked at things we couldn't afford, then went to the shops on the harbor.
We went to Philip's Seafood Restaurant and got us some nice fish and crabcakes, and also pie and cheesecake. This took like two hours. We ended up having to run to catch the bus to campus, except that we near missed it because when I was on an intersection and looked to the right and saw the JHU pink cylinder bus stop, we saw the bus speeding away from the block towards us. Jeremy sprinted to the left, towards the stop one block ahead and flagged it down like a taxi.
When we got home Jeremy discovered, beside my bag of cookies and two balloons, another bag of cookies and two more balloons, for him. ("They multiplied!")
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Went swimming again. I seem to have my own personal swim trainer.
Jeremy now has pink marbled speedos. Ooh! His consisntently pink swimwear allows me to identify him immediately from a distance, even without my glasses on.
Did a bunch of fifty yard drills because that's really all I have the stamina for, while Jeremy did anaerobic drills.
Also went to watch Love Actually at LHII. It was cute, if contrived. Also, Keira Knightley is in it.
Jeremy now has pink marbled speedos. Ooh! His consisntently pink swimwear allows me to identify him immediately from a distance, even without my glasses on.
Did a bunch of fifty yard drills because that's really all I have the stamina for, while Jeremy did anaerobic drills.
Also went to watch Love Actually at LHII. It was cute, if contrived. Also, Keira Knightley is in it.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Wherein Angie Gets Off Her Ass Every Once in a While
Went combination swimming and weight lifting with Jeremy and Jose.
Jeremy has speedos with little pink stars on them. He says, "They used to be red... -_-" I think they're endearing. Jose tactfully says that maybe he ought to get black speedos sometime. Jeremy's a damn powerful swimmer, though when I'm in the pool with him because I don't have glasses on I can't see him or what he's doing, only a line of splashing the progresses rapidly down the length of the lane. He looks very good from the spectator's balcony though, which I frequented with my glasses on.
Pools are also a good place to make out because of bouyancy. And little pink-starred speedos. But I hate locker rooms because of those wet, slick, floors with their thin film of God knows what. I'm paranoid.
Bench presses-
My max: 55 lb. -_- (Tthat's like just.. the bar.. without any weights on it)
Jeremy's max: 140 lb. *
Jose's max: 150 lb.
Ab crunches-
My max: 30 lb.
Jeremy's max: 60 lb.
Jose's max: 20 lb.
Leg pushy thingies-
My max: 180 lb.
Jeremy's max: 400 lb. + (The weights don't go any higher)
Jose's max: 400 lb. +
I'm a big wuss.
*This is why when I arm wrestle with Jeremy, he still beats me even when I use both arms. Even while he's being tickled.
Went combination swimming and weight lifting with Jeremy and Jose.
Jeremy has speedos with little pink stars on them. He says, "They used to be red... -_-" I think they're endearing. Jose tactfully says that maybe he ought to get black speedos sometime. Jeremy's a damn powerful swimmer, though when I'm in the pool with him because I don't have glasses on I can't see him or what he's doing, only a line of splashing the progresses rapidly down the length of the lane. He looks very good from the spectator's balcony though, which I frequented with my glasses on.
Pools are also a good place to make out because of bouyancy. And little pink-starred speedos. But I hate locker rooms because of those wet, slick, floors with their thin film of God knows what. I'm paranoid.
Bench presses-
My max: 55 lb. -_- (Tthat's like just.. the bar.. without any weights on it)
Jeremy's max: 140 lb. *
Jose's max: 150 lb.
Ab crunches-
My max: 30 lb.
Jeremy's max: 60 lb.
Jose's max: 20 lb.
Leg pushy thingies-
My max: 180 lb.
Jeremy's max: 400 lb. + (The weights don't go any higher)
Jose's max: 400 lb. +
I'm a big wuss.
*This is why when I arm wrestle with Jeremy, he still beats me even when I use both arms. Even while he's being tickled.
Monday, February 09, 2004
Played Vampire the Masquerade (Sabbat, Andrew) last night.
Vampire is really a terrible game. All you do is walk around and suck blood. You've got no family or friends or hobbies or goals and the sun turns you to ashes. You haven't got any of the motivations of a normal person.
We did encounter an NPC who was Jeremy.
"Bob the Nosferatu gives you the address of a computer security expert."
"I go to that address."
"You see a sign in front of the house reading, 'The Pie Residence.' "
"I knock on the door."
"Jeremy answers, holding a cup of coffee."
*laughter*
"Actual Jeremy?"
"Yes."
"I use Presence on him."
"Okay.. what's his Willpower?"
"Two.. he's only human."
"Jeremy says: 'Wow, I just spent all night playing Vampire the Masquerade and now I see real vampires!' Angie appears in the hallway. 'Who's at the door, pie?' "
"Jeremy: Nobody, go back to sleep."
We're trying to think up ways for him to become a permanent recurring NPC. I suggested having my character Embrace him and turn him into a vampire- a pale, Vampire the Masquerade-playing, coffee-drinking vampire. I don't think my in-game counterpart would be very happy about this but out of character I think this is sexy.
Vampire is really a terrible game. All you do is walk around and suck blood. You've got no family or friends or hobbies or goals and the sun turns you to ashes. You haven't got any of the motivations of a normal person.
We did encounter an NPC who was Jeremy.
"Bob the Nosferatu gives you the address of a computer security expert."
"I go to that address."
"You see a sign in front of the house reading, 'The Pie Residence.' "
"I knock on the door."
"Jeremy answers, holding a cup of coffee."
*laughter*
"Actual Jeremy?"
"Yes."
"I use Presence on him."
"Okay.. what's his Willpower?"
"Two.. he's only human."
"Jeremy says: 'Wow, I just spent all night playing Vampire the Masquerade and now I see real vampires!' Angie appears in the hallway. 'Who's at the door, pie?' "
"Jeremy: Nobody, go back to sleep."
We're trying to think up ways for him to become a permanent recurring NPC. I suggested having my character Embrace him and turn him into a vampire- a pale, Vampire the Masquerade-playing, coffee-drinking vampire. I don't think my in-game counterpart would be very happy about this but out of character I think this is sexy.
Monday, February 02, 2004
I have a poetry class for non-English majors (not because I like poetry, or English classes, but because a literature class is a pre-req for English 271, Creative Writing), Principles of Accounting II, Macroeconomics, Sociology 101 and History of Renaissance Art.
I have to get up at 8 in the morning for my English class, and I have to write a 200 word reflection for each class period, and we spend all period talking about the meaning of various poems, and the prof tries to get us to read the poems out loud, with feeling. I think I may drop it, except that we're studying Sappho and Alkhaios now and I have a soft spot for the ancient Greeks and find Greek verse terribly interesting. So we'll see how that goes.
Accounting is actually, of all things, fairly interesting. We have an engaging professor, and a small and sharp class. In any case, I think that managerial accounting is inherently more interesting a subject matter than financial accounting anyhow, and it makes this class unexpectedly stimulating.
Macro blows because it takes place in a large lecture hall, and the professor could not be more boring if he tried. I fell asleep in the second lecture, so that the class period seemed to be a big nap punctuated by brief periods of consciousness where my brain drowsily went, "Oh, a supply and demand graph" or something similar and went right back out again. To be fair to the professor though, this is may be less due to the monotony of the lecturer and more because I wake up at 8 in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Still the end result was that I fell asleep all the same.
Also, we have a web site project, and the grading requirements are such that you can only get a good grade if you include things like Flash, Powerpoint, animated graphics, or other glitzy things. (Having solid, well-researched economic material that's properly cited and expressed in a well-organized format will only get you a decent grade). While I do have a guy in my group who's a professional web designer, solving the problem of eye-candy, I still think that that aspect of the grading policy is rather unfair. Also, each project group has a "project coordinator" who has the responsiblity of assigning each of the members of the group a "pass/minor pass/fail" grade, submitted confidentially to the professor, depending on how much the coordinator felt the member contributed to the group. This is, in theory, to discourage group project freeloaders, but I'm critical of a system that allows any one student to have such power over the grade of another. However, I have taken Macroecon in high school, and the lecture notes are available online, so I think I'll do well as long as I go to class ... (unlike for Micro, where I missed my first exam and didn't turn in one assignment.. and even then got a B)... even if I do fall asleep or space out sometimes.
Sociology, which I'm taking as a pre-req for various anthropology classes, is one of those classes that sounds interesting but really isn't. We have a rheumatic elderly professor telling us a vague and generalized history of the world without any support for his statements, like a grandfather who tells kids about the good old days, in just the same manner. For those of you who know him; it's like my dad, but twenty years older. "And then there was the French Revolution where the peasants were fed up with the aristocrats having large parties and building big palaces.." What rulers in which regions? What pieces of legislature and which prevailing customs described in what documents? "The Industrial Revolution was a horrible time. The conditions of workers were terrible. You'd often see children in the mines without hands and feet..." Described by who? What cases? Mr. Thomas and Mr. Hines always told us exactly where their information came from, and I'd become accustomed to it. You can't just say random things, hoping they'll be acceptable because of your position of authority.
"Even nowadays you see the problems inherent with over-competition in markets, in the form of the vile practice where companies outsource their labor to India to maximize their profits.." ...and nobody spoke up. Well I got into this argument with the professor and a girl sitting a few seats away from me who was the daughter of some powerful labor union man. I had just finished Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" which is an eloquent muckraker tract on the unsanitary conditions of the food industry but also a very treacly propaganda piece for Socialism. My annoyance probably was not so much a result of any one person in Sociology as my residue reaction to that wonderful little book, and the girl, whose name I wish I had, had some very nice points. Still, even though I like arguing, one must wonder... you're the sociology professor for the love of God, why can't you teach that?
In any case, I also suspect the prof thinks we're really stupid because nobody ever speaks up in class. But if you went to a class where you had an old guy lecture at you as you sat with maybe fifty other people in rows of desks marching straight down the classroom so that in the middle and back couldn't hear him, would you ever speak up? I know you're supposed to be critical in class but I'm so critical of everything he says that I end up not saying anything at all because I haven't got a place to begin (and I don't want to disrupt the class by being an Anya). I don't know, maybe things will get more interesting once we get past the introductory lectures. Plus, Sasha is in that class, which is a plus.
I have Renaissance Art with Jeremy. It is really really cool, not in the least because our professor is expressive and funny. In addition, it puts my Greek Archaeology knowledge from last semester to good use, I have someone to study with, and we keep each other awake if we're about to fall asleep.
I have to get up at 8 in the morning for my English class, and I have to write a 200 word reflection for each class period, and we spend all period talking about the meaning of various poems, and the prof tries to get us to read the poems out loud, with feeling. I think I may drop it, except that we're studying Sappho and Alkhaios now and I have a soft spot for the ancient Greeks and find Greek verse terribly interesting. So we'll see how that goes.
Accounting is actually, of all things, fairly interesting. We have an engaging professor, and a small and sharp class. In any case, I think that managerial accounting is inherently more interesting a subject matter than financial accounting anyhow, and it makes this class unexpectedly stimulating.
Macro blows because it takes place in a large lecture hall, and the professor could not be more boring if he tried. I fell asleep in the second lecture, so that the class period seemed to be a big nap punctuated by brief periods of consciousness where my brain drowsily went, "Oh, a supply and demand graph" or something similar and went right back out again. To be fair to the professor though, this is may be less due to the monotony of the lecturer and more because I wake up at 8 in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Still the end result was that I fell asleep all the same.
Also, we have a web site project, and the grading requirements are such that you can only get a good grade if you include things like Flash, Powerpoint, animated graphics, or other glitzy things. (Having solid, well-researched economic material that's properly cited and expressed in a well-organized format will only get you a decent grade). While I do have a guy in my group who's a professional web designer, solving the problem of eye-candy, I still think that that aspect of the grading policy is rather unfair. Also, each project group has a "project coordinator" who has the responsiblity of assigning each of the members of the group a "pass/minor pass/fail" grade, submitted confidentially to the professor, depending on how much the coordinator felt the member contributed to the group. This is, in theory, to discourage group project freeloaders, but I'm critical of a system that allows any one student to have such power over the grade of another. However, I have taken Macroecon in high school, and the lecture notes are available online, so I think I'll do well as long as I go to class ... (unlike for Micro, where I missed my first exam and didn't turn in one assignment.. and even then got a B)... even if I do fall asleep or space out sometimes.
Sociology, which I'm taking as a pre-req for various anthropology classes, is one of those classes that sounds interesting but really isn't. We have a rheumatic elderly professor telling us a vague and generalized history of the world without any support for his statements, like a grandfather who tells kids about the good old days, in just the same manner. For those of you who know him; it's like my dad, but twenty years older. "And then there was the French Revolution where the peasants were fed up with the aristocrats having large parties and building big palaces.." What rulers in which regions? What pieces of legislature and which prevailing customs described in what documents? "The Industrial Revolution was a horrible time. The conditions of workers were terrible. You'd often see children in the mines without hands and feet..." Described by who? What cases? Mr. Thomas and Mr. Hines always told us exactly where their information came from, and I'd become accustomed to it. You can't just say random things, hoping they'll be acceptable because of your position of authority.
"Even nowadays you see the problems inherent with over-competition in markets, in the form of the vile practice where companies outsource their labor to India to maximize their profits.." ...and nobody spoke up. Well I got into this argument with the professor and a girl sitting a few seats away from me who was the daughter of some powerful labor union man. I had just finished Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" which is an eloquent muckraker tract on the unsanitary conditions of the food industry but also a very treacly propaganda piece for Socialism. My annoyance probably was not so much a result of any one person in Sociology as my residue reaction to that wonderful little book, and the girl, whose name I wish I had, had some very nice points. Still, even though I like arguing, one must wonder... you're the sociology professor for the love of God, why can't you teach that?
In any case, I also suspect the prof thinks we're really stupid because nobody ever speaks up in class. But if you went to a class where you had an old guy lecture at you as you sat with maybe fifty other people in rows of desks marching straight down the classroom so that in the middle and back couldn't hear him, would you ever speak up? I know you're supposed to be critical in class but I'm so critical of everything he says that I end up not saying anything at all because I haven't got a place to begin (and I don't want to disrupt the class by being an Anya). I don't know, maybe things will get more interesting once we get past the introductory lectures. Plus, Sasha is in that class, which is a plus.
I have Renaissance Art with Jeremy. It is really really cool, not in the least because our professor is expressive and funny. In addition, it puts my Greek Archaeology knowledge from last semester to good use, I have someone to study with, and we keep each other awake if we're about to fall asleep.
Well, I haven't blogged in a while. I'm at school, and haven't been getting very much in the way of privacy, having immediately moved back in with Jeremy. I end up being with him 24/7 except when we're in class or the bathroom, neither of which can hardly be described as privacy either. Therefore, I can only blog while he's in class because it seems a bit rude to make him sit around by himself while I type, though I sometimes wonder how he doesn't miss his own privacy himself. Sometimes I miss sleeping in my own bed where I can stretch out my arms without elbowing Jeremy in the face or can roll over without waking myself or him up, and not have to end up sleeping in the same position all night to wake up with a sore back and shoulders. Sometimes I miss solitary activities like reading for pleasure undisturbed, and surfing the net and mudding and and blasting mp3s very loud, or even just the liberty to fart and pick my nose and scratch myself when I so wish, because it always seems like I'm with someone or other these days. But after dinner when it's late at night but too early to go to bed, in the common room of Suite 404, everyone sits around on the couch or the carpet under the lamp reading roleplaying handbooks or doing homework, and the night is quiet, and maybe the tv may be on in the background with someone playing video games. It has some element of domestic serenity, as if I have some people and a place in the disorderly universe to go back to at the dying of the day.
Really the key to being not bored is to have something of your own to do, or joining whatever it is that other people are doing. I've given up on any pretense of social independence outside of this circle of nerds, and have created characters and joined a number of role playing games. I find myself actually reading players' handbooks in my spare time. I've learned the bloody rules to Axis and Allies, and can kick ass competently in Soul Calibur. Also, I have enough schoolwork to occupy myself, most of it interesting, and in that I am happy.
Really the key to being not bored is to have something of your own to do, or joining whatever it is that other people are doing. I've given up on any pretense of social independence outside of this circle of nerds, and have created characters and joined a number of role playing games. I find myself actually reading players' handbooks in my spare time. I've learned the bloody rules to Axis and Allies, and can kick ass competently in Soul Calibur. Also, I have enough schoolwork to occupy myself, most of it interesting, and in that I am happy.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Friday, January 23, 2004
Happy belated Chinese New Year, yesterday. I talked to Jeremy for long hours on the phone at one in the morning under the covers with the lights turned off, and with his voice in my ear he was all but next to me. It's one of those things you wish could last forever.
But then I had to go to sleep and wake up. I wore red and new clothes for good luck. I got money in red envelopes. It's Hou Nian, the year of the monkey. You know this. It's the first time I've really had a relaxed Chinese New Year... before, I've always been in school. If I was lucky the lunar new year might happen to fall on President's Day, but still, I'd never had quite as stress-free holiday as this.
David from school called me to wish me happy new year. He's a big fat Asian man who plays video games and has no friends and in this way reminds me of myself as I had/could've been. I figure that if he has low self esteem and thinks about killing himself the least a member of the human race can do is to talk to him every once in a while. I'd given him my number when he asked for it because I felt sorry for him but ever since then he's been rather liberally taking advantage of my patience. He has no sense of humor so to speak of. When you try to crack jokes with him he'll be very silent for a few moments and then just continue talking about whatever it is he was speaking of before. And it doesn't matter how you respond, he just keeps talking, on the same topic. It's not that he has boring topics; he taught me how to build a good snowman and told me all about Stargate SG-1, but he has a big loopy fat man voice, you know, the kind that goes: "waugh waugh waugh" very monotonously, like "Hoom hoom hoom" but not as Entish. It's horrible. I may sic Jeremy on him if he bothers me. It's one of the benefits of having a male defender.
I went shopping with T for Valentine's day gifts at Montgomery mall (known as Monkey Mall perhaps, so suiting). I had a Gap gift certificate from way back when, the year 2000, given to me by Pearl, a family friend. Apparently she'd given T one of those too. Unfortunately, neither of us actually shop at the Gap, which is one of the reasons that it took me so damn long to use my certificate. This is why gift certificates should be banned and people should give each other either gifts or money. Anyway, after a long while of desperately looking at things hoping maybe my heart might feel the faintest sort of spark of consumer desire, I got myself a jacket, which is admittedly quite nice. It's cute. We also went to Sharper Image and loafed around on the massage chairs without buying anything in that time honored tradition, and contemplated manly gifts (read: sharp, pointy and violent) from Chesapeake Knife and Tool/ the Discovery Store. It was all too expensive. I got V-day gifts (not anything sharp, pointy, or violent) for Jeremy (not at the Gap) but what they are I'm not at liberty to say.
Went out to dinner with my family and T's family and Pearl's family, all at once. It was rather hectic, but all Chinese dinners are.
But then I had to go to sleep and wake up. I wore red and new clothes for good luck. I got money in red envelopes. It's Hou Nian, the year of the monkey. You know this. It's the first time I've really had a relaxed Chinese New Year... before, I've always been in school. If I was lucky the lunar new year might happen to fall on President's Day, but still, I'd never had quite as stress-free holiday as this.
David from school called me to wish me happy new year. He's a big fat Asian man who plays video games and has no friends and in this way reminds me of myself as I had/could've been. I figure that if he has low self esteem and thinks about killing himself the least a member of the human race can do is to talk to him every once in a while. I'd given him my number when he asked for it because I felt sorry for him but ever since then he's been rather liberally taking advantage of my patience. He has no sense of humor so to speak of. When you try to crack jokes with him he'll be very silent for a few moments and then just continue talking about whatever it is he was speaking of before. And it doesn't matter how you respond, he just keeps talking, on the same topic. It's not that he has boring topics; he taught me how to build a good snowman and told me all about Stargate SG-1, but he has a big loopy fat man voice, you know, the kind that goes: "waugh waugh waugh" very monotonously, like "Hoom hoom hoom" but not as Entish. It's horrible. I may sic Jeremy on him if he bothers me. It's one of the benefits of having a male defender.
I went shopping with T for Valentine's day gifts at Montgomery mall (known as Monkey Mall perhaps, so suiting). I had a Gap gift certificate from way back when, the year 2000, given to me by Pearl, a family friend. Apparently she'd given T one of those too. Unfortunately, neither of us actually shop at the Gap, which is one of the reasons that it took me so damn long to use my certificate. This is why gift certificates should be banned and people should give each other either gifts or money. Anyway, after a long while of desperately looking at things hoping maybe my heart might feel the faintest sort of spark of consumer desire, I got myself a jacket, which is admittedly quite nice. It's cute. We also went to Sharper Image and loafed around on the massage chairs without buying anything in that time honored tradition, and contemplated manly gifts (read: sharp, pointy and violent) from Chesapeake Knife and Tool/ the Discovery Store. It was all too expensive. I got V-day gifts (not anything sharp, pointy, or violent) for Jeremy (not at the Gap) but what they are I'm not at liberty to say.
Went out to dinner with my family and T's family and Pearl's family, all at once. It was rather hectic, but all Chinese dinners are.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
A typical phone conversation (which I have nearly nightly) with Jeremy, arranged by topic, chronologically:
Grocery shopping -> factory farms -> milking machines -> making butter/cheese from human millk/ milk porn -> the location of udders on minotaurs -> improbable anatomy/evolution -> crystalline eyes on starfish that focus light -> diamonds -> the cool ability to form diamonds through magic to make obscene amounts of money/solidifying light -> magic powers -> if Jeremy could have any ability at all it'd be the ability to accelerate objects ridiculously fast -> dangerous projectile pebbles -> bullets and how slow they are -> dodging bullets -> how we talk about such weird shit -> -> how it would be terrible to be a telepath because you'd hear everyone's completely random thoughts -> trying to remember what we talked about -> the strange processes of human memory -> how you forget what you're going to say and then remember it fifteen minutes later, or in the middle of the night -> lucid dreaming -> How Dean Acheson or some guy in the Watergate trial was asked to testify regarding the Nixon tapes, and when the actual tapes were found and compared to the testimony it was discovered that he'd paraphrased the tapes accurately but the exact wordings were mostly off -> being recorded over the phone and wearing tin foil hats -> how we know so much crap and should play Trivial Pursuit over the phone -> chess over the phone -> Battleship over the phone -> telepathic chess in X-men -> some Darkover book wherein these telepaths instill the essence of fear into an enemy army -> random books we've read ...
Grocery shopping -> factory farms -> milking machines -> making butter/cheese from human millk/ milk porn -> the location of udders on minotaurs -> improbable anatomy/evolution -> crystalline eyes on starfish that focus light -> diamonds -> the cool ability to form diamonds through magic to make obscene amounts of money/solidifying light -> magic powers -> if Jeremy could have any ability at all it'd be the ability to accelerate objects ridiculously fast -> dangerous projectile pebbles -> bullets and how slow they are -> dodging bullets -> how we talk about such weird shit -> -> how it would be terrible to be a telepath because you'd hear everyone's completely random thoughts -> trying to remember what we talked about -> the strange processes of human memory -> how you forget what you're going to say and then remember it fifteen minutes later, or in the middle of the night -> lucid dreaming -> How Dean Acheson or some guy in the Watergate trial was asked to testify regarding the Nixon tapes, and when the actual tapes were found and compared to the testimony it was discovered that he'd paraphrased the tapes accurately but the exact wordings were mostly off -> being recorded over the phone and wearing tin foil hats -> how we know so much crap and should play Trivial Pursuit over the phone -> chess over the phone -> Battleship over the phone -> telepathic chess in X-men -> some Darkover book wherein these telepaths instill the essence of fear into an enemy army -> random books we've read ...
Vikings and Mongols and Goths, Oh My!
Guess what! It's Barbarian Week on the History Channel! I'm so excited! ^___^
Guess what! It's Barbarian Week on the History Channel! I'm so excited! ^___^
Wherein Sushi is Served from the Torso of a Naked Woman
This sounds like a marvelously creative, as well as tasty, idea. Too bad about the protesters though.. personally I think those Asian American women protesting this are doing worse by enforcing the stereotype that all Asians are tightasses. And if you're in a women's group I think your time would be better spent not complaining about the artsy presentation of food at a restaurant somewhere, but helping poor single mothers put bread on the table. Besides, it's a double standard. You know if it were a male model doing this, nobody would complain, though maybe there'd be a few jokes about the size of his sashimi.
This sounds like a marvelously creative, as well as tasty, idea. Too bad about the protesters though.. personally I think those Asian American women protesting this are doing worse by enforcing the stereotype that all Asians are tightasses. And if you're in a women's group I think your time would be better spent not complaining about the artsy presentation of food at a restaurant somewhere, but helping poor single mothers put bread on the table. Besides, it's a double standard. You know if it were a male model doing this, nobody would complain, though maybe there'd be a few jokes about the size of his sashimi.
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Wherein Angie, Unlike on Sunday, Does Not Walk Into a Sex Toy Store and Say, "Ooh, I Have One of Those!"
Tuesday night, went to Malex's party wherein we made fun of Air Force One. AF1 is super-nationalistic with very bad dialogue, which makes it easy to make fun of. I do give it credit for maintaining suspense though, which is mainly what held it together. Socially though, it was actually a rather quiet night, as a lot of people are already back at college. Nick and Ben Evans showed up, and Janis and Jen (thanks for the bundt cake!) and Silvia, with James arriving later. Janis left late in the night to pick up Lauren from Giant, where she works.
So it was fun. It was quiet. Yeah.
Lauren decided rather spontaneously that we should have a sleepover at her house, so I went, with Janis and Malex (!). Strangely enough, we actually talked about serious topics like depression and healthcare and the job market, which ended up with Janis getting all fired up: "Open your eyes, Alex! There are people starving in America!" ;) This was counterbalanced by Lauren playing her AMVs for us repeatedly, at one point with some anime guy lipsynching Dr. Evil: "I have one simple request - sharks with friggin' laser beams attached to their heads, and it can't be done? Remind me again why I pay you people?" Malex also got Janis to read the Very Secret Diaries aloud, often to more comic effect than intended with Janis mispronouncing names.
We went to bed at around four, and woke up in the morning (and by morning I mean near afternoon) to Scat Man blasting on the speakers of Lauren's computer, looped. We had breakfast, or lunch, and I mentioned that Jeremy had been over and that Malex had met him.
First question from Lauren: "Is he hot?"*
A long tactful silence from Malex ensued.
We spent all of Wednesday... driving around New Hampshire Avenue getting lost and headbanging to loud music in the car... We kept driving around these rural roads which I usually ride along on my way to school, so it felt strange. After an hour or so we did finally make it to our destination, a thrift store at Laurel. Lauren ended up buying a cool "Air Force Intelligence Agency" army jacket and we got leather pants for Janis (which did not fit), leather pants for Malex (which do fit), and some hot t-shirts, the hottest of which is a tight black one that reads "University of Michigan Dance Marathon" in front and is totally gay in a gay gay way. We had Malex try on the army jacket too, but the jacket and the shirt declared a fashion war of attrition on each other and we had to abandon the cause.
I myself got a Pirates of the Caribbean shirt for $4.
I marvel when I realize that I actually do have my very own group of friends, which is rather surprising because I always thought I just followed other people around, meeting their friends instead of having friends of my own. I'm not sure when this changed.
*Yes. Yes he is.
Tuesday night, went to Malex's party wherein we made fun of Air Force One. AF1 is super-nationalistic with very bad dialogue, which makes it easy to make fun of. I do give it credit for maintaining suspense though, which is mainly what held it together. Socially though, it was actually a rather quiet night, as a lot of people are already back at college. Nick and Ben Evans showed up, and Janis and Jen (thanks for the bundt cake!) and Silvia, with James arriving later. Janis left late in the night to pick up Lauren from Giant, where she works.
So it was fun. It was quiet. Yeah.
Lauren decided rather spontaneously that we should have a sleepover at her house, so I went, with Janis and Malex (!). Strangely enough, we actually talked about serious topics like depression and healthcare and the job market, which ended up with Janis getting all fired up: "Open your eyes, Alex! There are people starving in America!" ;) This was counterbalanced by Lauren playing her AMVs for us repeatedly, at one point with some anime guy lipsynching Dr. Evil: "I have one simple request - sharks with friggin' laser beams attached to their heads, and it can't be done? Remind me again why I pay you people?" Malex also got Janis to read the Very Secret Diaries aloud, often to more comic effect than intended with Janis mispronouncing names.
We went to bed at around four, and woke up in the morning (and by morning I mean near afternoon) to Scat Man blasting on the speakers of Lauren's computer, looped. We had breakfast, or lunch, and I mentioned that Jeremy had been over and that Malex had met him.
First question from Lauren: "Is he hot?"*
A long tactful silence from Malex ensued.
We spent all of Wednesday... driving around New Hampshire Avenue getting lost and headbanging to loud music in the car... We kept driving around these rural roads which I usually ride along on my way to school, so it felt strange. After an hour or so we did finally make it to our destination, a thrift store at Laurel. Lauren ended up buying a cool "Air Force Intelligence Agency" army jacket and we got leather pants for Janis (which did not fit), leather pants for Malex (which do fit), and some hot t-shirts, the hottest of which is a tight black one that reads "University of Michigan Dance Marathon" in front and is totally gay in a gay gay way. We had Malex try on the army jacket too, but the jacket and the shirt declared a fashion war of attrition on each other and we had to abandon the cause.
I myself got a Pirates of the Caribbean shirt for $4.
I marvel when I realize that I actually do have my very own group of friends, which is rather surprising because I always thought I just followed other people around, meeting their friends instead of having friends of my own. I'm not sure when this changed.
*Yes. Yes he is.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
If I Had All the World, And Time
On Friday Jeremy came over and stayed the weekend and I was happy because I remembered how it felt like to wrap my arms around someone again. We spent all of the afternoon lying next to each other in that state of sublime time-stopping happiness, as if it were some kind of Activity*, with the curtains drawn shut and the room turned a soft orange by the light through them, and fell asleep around each other. In the evening we went to T's to play with her guinea pig and we all went to dinner together, with my family, and her family, for Cantonese cuisine. My parents were pleased that Jeremy could use chopsticks. Also, those hokey Chinese zodiac placemats are oddly accurate for him which I thought amusing, and also it says that he is compatible with an Ox, which is me. We went to Barnes and Noble in a cozy bubble of nerd-puppy-love and pointed out all the fantasy paperbacks we'd read and flipped through manga, opening the books left to right, and had hot cups of coffee, his a straight expresso at 11 at night. When we got home we played Trivial Pursuit and put together an Empire Strikes Back jigsaw because that's his favorite of the original trilogy, and had extreme headaches at three in the morning trying to piece the edges of the puzzle together, which of course, being Star Wars, were all uniformly black and littered with stars.
*And also splashing around in the bathtub while my parents weren't home. I actually don't think I'll repeat that again. Fun as it is, it can get very cramped in there.
Saturday we went to Starbucks and Forbidden Fruit, the sex toy store, with Malex but not Nick (who had a headache) and played around with cheap platex costumes, like some kind of X-rated dollar store except expensive. I tried the tester samples of "scented pleasure oil" and poked the squishy dildos. Whee! Squishy squishy! This thoroughly disturbed everyone, except for me. We went to the ice cream shop and ordered bubble tea and pastries, but didn't drink out of the same cup with different straws because that'd've been too sickeningly cute, and we went around all the different shops like the Chinese bookstore and TenRen and that store for souped-up Asian cars and the Oriental Market but not the bridal store because that would've been freaky. We went to the music store (where we made crude jokes about trombone slide oil) and the hobby store at Congressional Plaza, and when we got home we put together a 3D apple puzzle which boggled Jeremy's mind due to his lack of depth perception, but he triumphed in the end. Jeremy did flashy things with my foil and my dad talked his ear off at dinner, which was mushrooms.
On Sunday we had coffee and cake for breakfast, and snuggled up next to each other watching the hilariously dubbed Mothra III in our pajamas. At lunchtime we went for dim sum and afterwards to Best Buy, then came home. I suggested that we take some pictures around the house, ostensibly for those last three shots remaining on the roll of film, but in reality to keep the farewells from dragging on for too long because goodbyes are terrible things. Jeremy's parents came in, having brought my Christmas present which had just been delivered by UPS over the weekend, and I kissed my Pie goodbye (several times) and then he went home.
My house and everything is still the same as before (except for residual gossip amongst my mother's friends and stern Talks about the Nature of Boys), as if I've woken up from some dream-like state and he was never here.
On Friday Jeremy came over and stayed the weekend and I was happy because I remembered how it felt like to wrap my arms around someone again. We spent all of the afternoon lying next to each other in that state of sublime time-stopping happiness, as if it were some kind of Activity*, with the curtains drawn shut and the room turned a soft orange by the light through them, and fell asleep around each other. In the evening we went to T's to play with her guinea pig and we all went to dinner together, with my family, and her family, for Cantonese cuisine. My parents were pleased that Jeremy could use chopsticks. Also, those hokey Chinese zodiac placemats are oddly accurate for him which I thought amusing, and also it says that he is compatible with an Ox, which is me. We went to Barnes and Noble in a cozy bubble of nerd-puppy-love and pointed out all the fantasy paperbacks we'd read and flipped through manga, opening the books left to right, and had hot cups of coffee, his a straight expresso at 11 at night. When we got home we played Trivial Pursuit and put together an Empire Strikes Back jigsaw because that's his favorite of the original trilogy, and had extreme headaches at three in the morning trying to piece the edges of the puzzle together, which of course, being Star Wars, were all uniformly black and littered with stars.
*And also splashing around in the bathtub while my parents weren't home. I actually don't think I'll repeat that again. Fun as it is, it can get very cramped in there.
Saturday we went to Starbucks and Forbidden Fruit, the sex toy store, with Malex but not Nick (who had a headache) and played around with cheap platex costumes, like some kind of X-rated dollar store except expensive. I tried the tester samples of "scented pleasure oil" and poked the squishy dildos. Whee! Squishy squishy! This thoroughly disturbed everyone, except for me. We went to the ice cream shop and ordered bubble tea and pastries, but didn't drink out of the same cup with different straws because that'd've been too sickeningly cute, and we went around all the different shops like the Chinese bookstore and TenRen and that store for souped-up Asian cars and the Oriental Market but not the bridal store because that would've been freaky. We went to the music store (where we made crude jokes about trombone slide oil) and the hobby store at Congressional Plaza, and when we got home we put together a 3D apple puzzle which boggled Jeremy's mind due to his lack of depth perception, but he triumphed in the end. Jeremy did flashy things with my foil and my dad talked his ear off at dinner, which was mushrooms.
On Sunday we had coffee and cake for breakfast, and snuggled up next to each other watching the hilariously dubbed Mothra III in our pajamas. At lunchtime we went for dim sum and afterwards to Best Buy, then came home. I suggested that we take some pictures around the house, ostensibly for those last three shots remaining on the roll of film, but in reality to keep the farewells from dragging on for too long because goodbyes are terrible things. Jeremy's parents came in, having brought my Christmas present which had just been delivered by UPS over the weekend, and I kissed my Pie goodbye (several times) and then he went home.
My house and everything is still the same as before (except for residual gossip amongst my mother's friends and stern Talks about the Nature of Boys), as if I've woken up from some dream-like state and he was never here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)