WTF?? Why are more than half of the blogs I'm reading started within the last couple of days? Was there an article or a sudden worldwide onset of vanity and complaint.... why did everyone in the world suddenly discover Blogger at the same time?
I've been here since January, man... I haven't posted jack shit since then, but still. I feel all 'I knew it before it was BIG' n stuff.
I really have to go home and rest. My knees are killing me and I sound stupid. Well, the latter isn't much of a surprise...
I wonder how all of these people get those wonderful toys.... I must set up a comment thing and a counter and see if anyone actually reads this.... and why...
Tuesday, July 31, 2001
argh, fucking sucks. cmu servers are all down, or something, god only knows. I'm sure the computer emergency response team is leaping to action...
I made some calls today but still didn't get too much done. I really need to figure out exactly what's going on so I can get as much done as possible. If the welder doesn't call me back tomorrow, I'm going with someone else, unless Don tells me I have to use the welder... I'm sure he works cheaper than $65/hour. Grrrrr. Don't make me come down there, bizatch, give me your welder!!!
I need to learn how to weld. I hope I get into that Art studio course next year - I doubt I'll be welding but I will be doing lost wax casting and small metals... kewl shit.. I hope I don't have to know how to weld for the mixed media part of it. And I didn't get into furniture so I severely doubt Tom will take the time to show me how.
There needs to be more free food, damnit. I have no money & I want a snack.. :( I'm back in that mode where I have breakfast at 6:30, lunch at noon, a snack at 3/4 and dinner at 9, like in high school.
Aggghhh. I wish I could get this project done with a good degree of certainty, but there's so many stakeholders, and so many restrictions, it's hard to think about how I can finish this in a week and a half. If I can meet with a welder I think I can complete a short-term solution, but I need a welder NOW so we can have something figured out by the time I leave. Retrofitting the cans is one good thing... then I can work on the new can design during the coming year, or over break, or maybe I'll just have to come back after I graduate (which is fine with me, heh heh, that means I get a job). But I wouldn't mind completing this successfully, because if I do it'll look kick-ass good on my resume. Which I need, because my drawing skills aren't what they should be, and I'm always late with shit... but I *care*, dammit, doesn't anyone see how much I *care*?!
This cubicle is sucking the life out of me.
I made some calls today but still didn't get too much done. I really need to figure out exactly what's going on so I can get as much done as possible. If the welder doesn't call me back tomorrow, I'm going with someone else, unless Don tells me I have to use the welder... I'm sure he works cheaper than $65/hour. Grrrrr. Don't make me come down there, bizatch, give me your welder!!!
I need to learn how to weld. I hope I get into that Art studio course next year - I doubt I'll be welding but I will be doing lost wax casting and small metals... kewl shit.. I hope I don't have to know how to weld for the mixed media part of it. And I didn't get into furniture so I severely doubt Tom will take the time to show me how.
There needs to be more free food, damnit. I have no money & I want a snack.. :( I'm back in that mode where I have breakfast at 6:30, lunch at noon, a snack at 3/4 and dinner at 9, like in high school.
Aggghhh. I wish I could get this project done with a good degree of certainty, but there's so many stakeholders, and so many restrictions, it's hard to think about how I can finish this in a week and a half. If I can meet with a welder I think I can complete a short-term solution, but I need a welder NOW so we can have something figured out by the time I leave. Retrofitting the cans is one good thing... then I can work on the new can design during the coming year, or over break, or maybe I'll just have to come back after I graduate (which is fine with me, heh heh, that means I get a job). But I wouldn't mind completing this successfully, because if I do it'll look kick-ass good on my resume. Which I need, because my drawing skills aren't what they should be, and I'm always late with shit... but I *care*, dammit, doesn't anyone see how much I *care*?!
This cubicle is sucking the life out of me.
Christ Jesus, but some people's resumes are UGLY. I know mine isn't very exciting, but at least I'm not trying to show off any skills I don't possess. I mean, come on people ... yellow marble backgrounds???
It makes me feel a little bit better... but of course, these are business and IS majors, they probably wouldn't know an attractive design if it smothered them. I'm not stereotyping, of course, I'm sure there are a great many business people out there with good taste when it comes to layout, font, colors, etc., most likely better than mine. But you must admit, any industry that uses Microsoft products to the extent that business does.... let's just keep design in the hands of people who know what they're doing, kay? Or at least prevent the poor ignorant masses from using bad design so freely. I mean, whoever came up with those PowerPoint backgrounds needs to be shot.
It makes me feel a little bit better... but of course, these are business and IS majors, they probably wouldn't know an attractive design if it smothered them. I'm not stereotyping, of course, I'm sure there are a great many business people out there with good taste when it comes to layout, font, colors, etc., most likely better than mine. But you must admit, any industry that uses Microsoft products to the extent that business does.... let's just keep design in the hands of people who know what they're doing, kay? Or at least prevent the poor ignorant masses from using bad design so freely. I mean, whoever came up with those PowerPoint backgrounds needs to be shot.
Oh, I forgot to mention this little frame story...
Last week we went to Safeway, pretty late at night. We stumbled onto the bus, laden with our canvas bags, and collapsed near the front of the bus (it's about 10/15 blocks, not too far). A few stops down, this lady gets on the bus - she's carrying a bunch of shopping bags but doesn't look *quite* homeless. She sits down next to me and asks us for 35 cents. I look at Ayako to see her reaction - she says, "I'm sorry, I don't have any change", very apologetically. I figure this woman is like the guy on BART that's always shouting loudly for 1.10, so I say that I'm sorry, I paid with my credit card (obvious lie). She looks at both of us again, kind of begging, but we're shaking our heads. She turns away and says, "Aw, forget it", and dismisses us with her hand. She then mumbles insults at us under her breath - Bitch, Asshole...
She works her way around the bus, pointing to us and insulting us to everyone. Ayako is watching her, getting pissed. I keep my head towards the window, looking for our stop when we can get the fuck off, away from this crazy mean lady. Suddenly Ayako's mouth opens and her eyes widen, and she flips the lady off, and says, "Fuck you, too!" She turns to me and says, "She flipped me off..." turns to the lady and calls her a bitch. The lady walks by with her change mumbling bitch bitch bitch bitch...
Ayako says plainly, "Look, if you have something to say, say it to my face." The lady continues to mumble insults from across the bus. Ayako asks me if I'm going to take this.. I tell her quietly to drop it, it's not worth it. I'm thinking, this woman is nuts, and you fighting isn't going to do anything but make everyone on the bus uncomfortable, and possibly cause the crazy lady to flip out. It's not worth it. But Ayako doesn't see it that way...
Finally our stop comes and we get off the bus. The crazy bitch calls out, "Have a pleasant evening, bitch!" and cackles. The bus driver tells us to have a nice night at the same time, obviously feeling bad for what happened. When the woman got on the bus he told her she'd better have money, she didn't pay the last time. I didn't hear that, but Ayako told me later.
Ayako's still pissed on our way back, but she's more pissed that I didn't do anything. She can't believe I didn't stand up for myself, or her, who she thought the comments were more directed at, but I knew the crazy bitch was including me in them. We argued about it over the groceries in the kitchen, I telling her my side, she saying that unless you tell those people off, they're just going to keep doing it. I told her I know those people, and they'll just keep doing it anyway. They know exactly what they're doing, they don't give a shit about anyone else, and whatever you say is not going to change them.
We told Leland the story and asked him what he would have done, if he would have told her off. He said, "No way, it's not worth it." Leland rocks. ;)
So anyway, the funny part comes later... yesterday, on Ayako's birthday, she's coming/going to class, and some woman across the street asks her which bus to take to the Rockridge BART. Ayako's not sure, but thinks she should be on a different street. The woman obviously knows what bus to take anyway, and then the woman says, "Oh, by the way, do you have a dollar? I need a dollar." Ayako says, "No, I'm sorry, I don't have any money on me." The woman looks her up and down and starts cursing her out. Ayako realizes... it's the same woman!!
Ayako now realizes that this woman is just doing it for the hell of it, and she doesn't care about anyone else. She's taking people's money because she can, and because she's off her rocker, and she'll keep taking money no matter what. Ayako realizes the patheticness of this, and finds the entire situation highly amusing. She shakes her head and walks off with a bouncy step, leaving the crazy bitch cursing on the side of the street.
Later that day, Jamie asked her if she felt any older. She said, "No, but I did mature a little bit today."
Last week we went to Safeway, pretty late at night. We stumbled onto the bus, laden with our canvas bags, and collapsed near the front of the bus (it's about 10/15 blocks, not too far). A few stops down, this lady gets on the bus - she's carrying a bunch of shopping bags but doesn't look *quite* homeless. She sits down next to me and asks us for 35 cents. I look at Ayako to see her reaction - she says, "I'm sorry, I don't have any change", very apologetically. I figure this woman is like the guy on BART that's always shouting loudly for 1.10, so I say that I'm sorry, I paid with my credit card (obvious lie). She looks at both of us again, kind of begging, but we're shaking our heads. She turns away and says, "Aw, forget it", and dismisses us with her hand. She then mumbles insults at us under her breath - Bitch, Asshole...
She works her way around the bus, pointing to us and insulting us to everyone. Ayako is watching her, getting pissed. I keep my head towards the window, looking for our stop when we can get the fuck off, away from this crazy mean lady. Suddenly Ayako's mouth opens and her eyes widen, and she flips the lady off, and says, "Fuck you, too!" She turns to me and says, "She flipped me off..." turns to the lady and calls her a bitch. The lady walks by with her change mumbling bitch bitch bitch bitch...
Ayako says plainly, "Look, if you have something to say, say it to my face." The lady continues to mumble insults from across the bus. Ayako asks me if I'm going to take this.. I tell her quietly to drop it, it's not worth it. I'm thinking, this woman is nuts, and you fighting isn't going to do anything but make everyone on the bus uncomfortable, and possibly cause the crazy lady to flip out. It's not worth it. But Ayako doesn't see it that way...
Finally our stop comes and we get off the bus. The crazy bitch calls out, "Have a pleasant evening, bitch!" and cackles. The bus driver tells us to have a nice night at the same time, obviously feeling bad for what happened. When the woman got on the bus he told her she'd better have money, she didn't pay the last time. I didn't hear that, but Ayako told me later.
Ayako's still pissed on our way back, but she's more pissed that I didn't do anything. She can't believe I didn't stand up for myself, or her, who she thought the comments were more directed at, but I knew the crazy bitch was including me in them. We argued about it over the groceries in the kitchen, I telling her my side, she saying that unless you tell those people off, they're just going to keep doing it. I told her I know those people, and they'll just keep doing it anyway. They know exactly what they're doing, they don't give a shit about anyone else, and whatever you say is not going to change them.
We told Leland the story and asked him what he would have done, if he would have told her off. He said, "No way, it's not worth it." Leland rocks. ;)
So anyway, the funny part comes later... yesterday, on Ayako's birthday, she's coming/going to class, and some woman across the street asks her which bus to take to the Rockridge BART. Ayako's not sure, but thinks she should be on a different street. The woman obviously knows what bus to take anyway, and then the woman says, "Oh, by the way, do you have a dollar? I need a dollar." Ayako says, "No, I'm sorry, I don't have any money on me." The woman looks her up and down and starts cursing her out. Ayako realizes... it's the same woman!!
Ayako now realizes that this woman is just doing it for the hell of it, and she doesn't care about anyone else. She's taking people's money because she can, and because she's off her rocker, and she'll keep taking money no matter what. Ayako realizes the patheticness of this, and finds the entire situation highly amusing. She shakes her head and walks off with a bouncy step, leaving the crazy bitch cursing on the side of the street.
Later that day, Jamie asked her if she felt any older. She said, "No, but I did mature a little bit today."
Yesterday was Ayako's 21st birthday.
I was going to take her out to Sausalito for dinner on the Bay, but at the last minute I realized that the only ferry over was also the last ferry. So we'd be stranded.. oh well. We decided to meet in North Beach and try one of the Italian Trattorias in Little Italy. We went to the Mona Lisa - do you know that stupid Uncle Ben's pasta bowls commercial, where this chick with a hoarse voice is badly impersonating Italian? Well, this blond chick dressed in weirdly casual clothes worked at the Mona Lisa and had the same thing going on, inviting us inside - good food, eh? Manga!
Jeez. Well, anyway, we were convinced to come inside because it looked nice and had a big menu. After some hemming and hawing, I managed to get Ayako to order herself a glass of wine. She's never had anything to drink before and largely disdains those who do - even me. But it was her 21st birthday, and she was curious as hell, so it didn't take a lot of convincing. We asked the hot Italian waiter to suggest something, and he brought her a glass of Chianti, I forget the name. Before he brought it out, I was telling her how to taste wine, like my parents do - the swishing and sniffing and finger-looking, and then the taste and nod that it's okay, and *then* they pour. But he just brought out a full glass - maybe that's only when you buy a bottle of wine, or is it different for Chianti...? (I keep thinking of Fava beans and a census taker's liver...)
We ordered our meal - bruschetta to start, and I had cheese ravioli with a walnut cream sauce (very heavy, very dessert-like. I couldn't finish it, even though I had been starving when I sat down.) Ayako downed her mushroom-eggplant and garlic penne, then finished up the last few pieces of my ravioli. She'd already had one glass of wine before the entrees came, though, and after half of it she was flushed and grinning. By the time she finished it, her eyes were bright and watery, her chest was splotchy, and she was acting very strangely, but happy. She kept whipping her head back and forth while I was talking to her, waiting for the rest of the room to catch up, I'm assuming. She wanted another glass. I knew that after one glass she was where I usually was after 2/3 drinks, and I knew another glass was probably not a good idea, especially because she was drinking kind of fast, and obviously this stuff was getting to her, quickly. But she convinced me that she would never drink again after tonight, except maybe on very special occasions, and she might as well go all the way. I didn't want to have to heave her up into a bus or have her pass out on the BART, but finally I gave in. She drank the second glass after dinner, and we had tiramisu - complete with candle and singing waiters, one of whom shook her back and forth as he sang. The tiramisu was huge, but terrific, and we managed to finish it although we were both full.
All of a sudden, she felt really sick. I should have known - she finished the second glass awfully fast. I didn't realize it until she was draining it... plus the rich food, dessert, etc. - she was on the edge of vomiting for about 15 minutes. I waited, got the check, looked around for a bin or plastic bag... she really looked like she was about to hurl. I tried to get her to go to the bathroom, which was a scant 15 feet away, behind us, but she said that she couldn't move. I could see her gagging, I knew exactly what she was feeling. When you really, really, really HAVE to throw up, but you really, really, REALLY don't want to. It's a terrible feeling, and it was the worse for us being in a fancy restaurant. I cleaned out my lunch bag from work and set it on the table. It's bigger than your average barf bag, and it's waterproof. She didn't need it, though. Eventually she put her head down, belched a few times, and seemed to feel a little better (garlic, wine, and vomit - not a good fragrance. Whew!). After about 15 more minutes, she was fine ... and totally sober. I mean, she was fine. She wasn't flushed, her eyes weren't bright, she was completely back to normal. We talked for a while more, I paid the bill ($66.00 for two - not too bad for most people, but there goes 2 weeks of groceries).
They were wiping down the tables and feeding the waiters by the time we left. Ayako was pretty darn sober - still a little out of it, but her conversation and motor skills were pretty close to normal. She had gone through the process of getting drunk, sick, and sober in less than 3 hours. It was like watching New Years Eve in fast forward. It usually takes me about 12 hours to complete that cycle, and 3 times as many drinks (although wine is supposed to be stronger than I thought).
We didn't get home until after midnight. I splurged and set my alarm for seven this morning... she was up studying until 4.
It'll be a nice relief in a couple months when I can stop worrying about all of this foolishness, and taste someone else's wine without being afraid that the waiter will catch me.
I was going to take her out to Sausalito for dinner on the Bay, but at the last minute I realized that the only ferry over was also the last ferry. So we'd be stranded.. oh well. We decided to meet in North Beach and try one of the Italian Trattorias in Little Italy. We went to the Mona Lisa - do you know that stupid Uncle Ben's pasta bowls commercial, where this chick with a hoarse voice is badly impersonating Italian? Well, this blond chick dressed in weirdly casual clothes worked at the Mona Lisa and had the same thing going on, inviting us inside - good food, eh? Manga!
Jeez. Well, anyway, we were convinced to come inside because it looked nice and had a big menu. After some hemming and hawing, I managed to get Ayako to order herself a glass of wine. She's never had anything to drink before and largely disdains those who do - even me. But it was her 21st birthday, and she was curious as hell, so it didn't take a lot of convincing. We asked the hot Italian waiter to suggest something, and he brought her a glass of Chianti, I forget the name. Before he brought it out, I was telling her how to taste wine, like my parents do - the swishing and sniffing and finger-looking, and then the taste and nod that it's okay, and *then* they pour. But he just brought out a full glass - maybe that's only when you buy a bottle of wine, or is it different for Chianti...? (I keep thinking of Fava beans and a census taker's liver...)
We ordered our meal - bruschetta to start, and I had cheese ravioli with a walnut cream sauce (very heavy, very dessert-like. I couldn't finish it, even though I had been starving when I sat down.) Ayako downed her mushroom-eggplant and garlic penne, then finished up the last few pieces of my ravioli. She'd already had one glass of wine before the entrees came, though, and after half of it she was flushed and grinning. By the time she finished it, her eyes were bright and watery, her chest was splotchy, and she was acting very strangely, but happy. She kept whipping her head back and forth while I was talking to her, waiting for the rest of the room to catch up, I'm assuming. She wanted another glass. I knew that after one glass she was where I usually was after 2/3 drinks, and I knew another glass was probably not a good idea, especially because she was drinking kind of fast, and obviously this stuff was getting to her, quickly. But she convinced me that she would never drink again after tonight, except maybe on very special occasions, and she might as well go all the way. I didn't want to have to heave her up into a bus or have her pass out on the BART, but finally I gave in. She drank the second glass after dinner, and we had tiramisu - complete with candle and singing waiters, one of whom shook her back and forth as he sang. The tiramisu was huge, but terrific, and we managed to finish it although we were both full.
All of a sudden, she felt really sick. I should have known - she finished the second glass awfully fast. I didn't realize it until she was draining it... plus the rich food, dessert, etc. - she was on the edge of vomiting for about 15 minutes. I waited, got the check, looked around for a bin or plastic bag... she really looked like she was about to hurl. I tried to get her to go to the bathroom, which was a scant 15 feet away, behind us, but she said that she couldn't move. I could see her gagging, I knew exactly what she was feeling. When you really, really, really HAVE to throw up, but you really, really, REALLY don't want to. It's a terrible feeling, and it was the worse for us being in a fancy restaurant. I cleaned out my lunch bag from work and set it on the table. It's bigger than your average barf bag, and it's waterproof. She didn't need it, though. Eventually she put her head down, belched a few times, and seemed to feel a little better (garlic, wine, and vomit - not a good fragrance. Whew!). After about 15 more minutes, she was fine ... and totally sober. I mean, she was fine. She wasn't flushed, her eyes weren't bright, she was completely back to normal. We talked for a while more, I paid the bill ($66.00 for two - not too bad for most people, but there goes 2 weeks of groceries).
They were wiping down the tables and feeding the waiters by the time we left. Ayako was pretty darn sober - still a little out of it, but her conversation and motor skills were pretty close to normal. She had gone through the process of getting drunk, sick, and sober in less than 3 hours. It was like watching New Years Eve in fast forward. It usually takes me about 12 hours to complete that cycle, and 3 times as many drinks (although wine is supposed to be stronger than I thought).
We didn't get home until after midnight. I splurged and set my alarm for seven this morning... she was up studying until 4.
It'll be a nice relief in a couple months when I can stop worrying about all of this foolishness, and taste someone else's wine without being afraid that the waiter will catch me.
Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a fascist! Instead, I am.... a liberal airhead.
I am rated a 2.7666666666666666 on the F-Scale.
All sarcasm aside, what a fucking surprise. ;)
I am rated a 2.7666666666666666 on the F-Scale.
All sarcasm aside, what a fucking surprise. ;)
I was thinking about something while waiting for the bus today - I was wandering around the various blogs on here and I found some girl that was complaining about some random guys that always honked at her on *her* way to the bus. One time she actually went into a store in the little shopping center they always hung out in, and one of the honkers was in there. He asked her in passing if she ever smiled. She, naturally, got pissed off.
This happens all the time to me, and it always pisses me off. My sentiment was pretty much the same as hers - just because I don't walk around grinning like an vapid moron all the time doesn't mean I'm angry, or upset, or sad. It just means I don't currently feel overjoyed about walking down the street on my way to work. It is my natural expression, and if it brings you down, too fucking bad.
So I was thinking about this today and I remembered a similar incident that just left me fuming, although it was much more innocent than honkers hitting on people. I was at Cape Hatteras with my parents, looking around in the gift store. I was having a pretty good time, but I couldn't help but notice this old guy behind the counter, watching me. Finally he spoke up and said something like, "He'll still be there when you get back." I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, and I had to ask him to repeat it a number of times. "Your boyfriend that you left behind, he'll be waiting for you when you get back. Cheer up, it's okay." He was smiling and joking, but I'm pretty sure he was serious in thinking that I was depressed and missing my boyfriend, when in fact I felt fine and had no boyfriend.
I knew he meant well, so I just smiled tightly and nodded, but I walked away fuming. I could only find negative implications from his statement. Like, 'you're not happy, so you must be missing your boyfriend, because the only way girls can be happy is if they are with a man.' Or perhaps that girls can't be serious and intelligent, they must be giggly and stupid, so there must be something terribly wrong with me if I look like I'm thinking about something. And of course, the only thing that could possibly be wrong is that my boyfriend isn't there. I don't know what it was, but I was pissed for the next hour or so, until I finally told myself to drop it.
Something similar happened when I was working at Bellsouth. My supervisor was this stupid greaseball, who for whatever reason really liked me. He was always trying to get my approval and joke with me, but he did it in the worst way. He kept telling me really nasty dirty jokes, and joking with me about how stupid my coworkers were. I don't care if they didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground, as my supervisor, it was not his place to say that. It was also way out of line to tell me jokes about edible panties, which I didn't get, of course. He made some other innuendos which I coldly pretended not to understand, and luckily he dropped them before I really had to smack him. Anyway, one day he's asking me a whole bunch of inappropriate questions, and he finally gets to the point where I have to tell him I've never had a boyfriend. He's shocked, I mean, totally shocked. Doesn't believe me. He asks incredulously, "Why not?"
I can't even reply. For whatever reason, when he asked that question I was instantly shaking with rage. Shaking. I couldn't trust myself to speak, I couldn't make myself speak. I just had to shake my head and make a dismissive hand gesture, and stop talking to him. I think it was because either he assumed that everyone on earth has to be in a relationship in order to be a real person, or that I have had my pick of guys (that was kind of how he phrased it), and he's surprised I haven't chosen at least one by now.
I'm not going to say I've never been hit on, but I will say that I have never been hit on by anyone that had even the remotest possible thing in common with me. I think one of the reasons I was so pissed at Luis was because he seemed not to notice that I'm not very attractive, and am still somewhat uncomfortable and self-conscious in social situations, which is the main reason my celibacy has been more from chance than from choice, although I'd like to think if I was given the choice I'd still be okay.
I know that there are a lot of women out there who are more attractive, have better social skills, and are more intelligent or talented, or have a more engaging personality. But is it too much to ask that just once, somebody that I find even slightly attractive, whose had some similar level of education or possesses a near level of the same kind of intelligence, who is not a total loser, tries to strike up a conversation with me? I'm not asking for a date here. I just want someone to talk to who doesn't scare, repulse, or annoy me. I mean, really, too much to ask? I get along with a lot of people, I know I'm not totally repulsive or scary or annoying. I just wish one of the random people that talk to me while I'm waiting for the bus had anything in common with me. Speaking the same language would be a plus, too.
Anyway, I think Luis' comment pissed me off so much because he has absolutely no idea that most other girls my age, where I live, are as or more intelligent, talented, and educated than I am, and most are more physically attractive. I'm not saying that I can't live with that. It was just the fact that he didn't think that it makes life just the slightest bit more difficult for me, mentally and emotionally, and just naturally assumed that my social life comes as easily to me as it does others - well, it was a very mild version of asking a blind man why he's never been to a photography exhibit.
Well, that's enough ranting for now. Damn it, now I'm feeling all militant. Grrr.
This happens all the time to me, and it always pisses me off. My sentiment was pretty much the same as hers - just because I don't walk around grinning like an vapid moron all the time doesn't mean I'm angry, or upset, or sad. It just means I don't currently feel overjoyed about walking down the street on my way to work. It is my natural expression, and if it brings you down, too fucking bad.
So I was thinking about this today and I remembered a similar incident that just left me fuming, although it was much more innocent than honkers hitting on people. I was at Cape Hatteras with my parents, looking around in the gift store. I was having a pretty good time, but I couldn't help but notice this old guy behind the counter, watching me. Finally he spoke up and said something like, "He'll still be there when you get back." I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, and I had to ask him to repeat it a number of times. "Your boyfriend that you left behind, he'll be waiting for you when you get back. Cheer up, it's okay." He was smiling and joking, but I'm pretty sure he was serious in thinking that I was depressed and missing my boyfriend, when in fact I felt fine and had no boyfriend.
I knew he meant well, so I just smiled tightly and nodded, but I walked away fuming. I could only find negative implications from his statement. Like, 'you're not happy, so you must be missing your boyfriend, because the only way girls can be happy is if they are with a man.' Or perhaps that girls can't be serious and intelligent, they must be giggly and stupid, so there must be something terribly wrong with me if I look like I'm thinking about something. And of course, the only thing that could possibly be wrong is that my boyfriend isn't there. I don't know what it was, but I was pissed for the next hour or so, until I finally told myself to drop it.
Something similar happened when I was working at Bellsouth. My supervisor was this stupid greaseball, who for whatever reason really liked me. He was always trying to get my approval and joke with me, but he did it in the worst way. He kept telling me really nasty dirty jokes, and joking with me about how stupid my coworkers were. I don't care if they didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground, as my supervisor, it was not his place to say that. It was also way out of line to tell me jokes about edible panties, which I didn't get, of course. He made some other innuendos which I coldly pretended not to understand, and luckily he dropped them before I really had to smack him. Anyway, one day he's asking me a whole bunch of inappropriate questions, and he finally gets to the point where I have to tell him I've never had a boyfriend. He's shocked, I mean, totally shocked. Doesn't believe me. He asks incredulously, "Why not?"
I can't even reply. For whatever reason, when he asked that question I was instantly shaking with rage. Shaking. I couldn't trust myself to speak, I couldn't make myself speak. I just had to shake my head and make a dismissive hand gesture, and stop talking to him. I think it was because either he assumed that everyone on earth has to be in a relationship in order to be a real person, or that I have had my pick of guys (that was kind of how he phrased it), and he's surprised I haven't chosen at least one by now.
I'm not going to say I've never been hit on, but I will say that I have never been hit on by anyone that had even the remotest possible thing in common with me. I think one of the reasons I was so pissed at Luis was because he seemed not to notice that I'm not very attractive, and am still somewhat uncomfortable and self-conscious in social situations, which is the main reason my celibacy has been more from chance than from choice, although I'd like to think if I was given the choice I'd still be okay.
I know that there are a lot of women out there who are more attractive, have better social skills, and are more intelligent or talented, or have a more engaging personality. But is it too much to ask that just once, somebody that I find even slightly attractive, whose had some similar level of education or possesses a near level of the same kind of intelligence, who is not a total loser, tries to strike up a conversation with me? I'm not asking for a date here. I just want someone to talk to who doesn't scare, repulse, or annoy me. I mean, really, too much to ask? I get along with a lot of people, I know I'm not totally repulsive or scary or annoying. I just wish one of the random people that talk to me while I'm waiting for the bus had anything in common with me. Speaking the same language would be a plus, too.
Anyway, I think Luis' comment pissed me off so much because he has absolutely no idea that most other girls my age, where I live, are as or more intelligent, talented, and educated than I am, and most are more physically attractive. I'm not saying that I can't live with that. It was just the fact that he didn't think that it makes life just the slightest bit more difficult for me, mentally and emotionally, and just naturally assumed that my social life comes as easily to me as it does others - well, it was a very mild version of asking a blind man why he's never been to a photography exhibit.
Well, that's enough ranting for now. Damn it, now I'm feeling all militant. Grrr.
Monday, July 30, 2001
Wow, it's been a while. I know, I know, I always say that.
Anyway, I made it out to San Francisco. I've been living in Berkeley, lo these 2 months, and am preparing to go back to the East Coast (shudder, gag) and return to school (sob). My parents are coming to visit next week so that gives me something to do....
I really must ask for my computer to be removed from my desk. I get absolutely no work done. I think I might actually get more work done if I'm at home, where I can sketch, but then if I need to meet with anyone, I can't. I really need to talk to my boss but he's always busy, and then he leaves. I really got absolutely nothing done today. I mean nothing. I feel bad, but this is how I work... work hard for a couple of weeks. Slack off until right before the project is due. Miraculously pull something halfway successful out of my ass. Sleep for two days. That's what I do!! I can't help it.
I've been reading my past blogs and discovered that stress and lack of sleep make me a more interesting person than does boredom. I suppose that makes sense, but dammit, no one posts to my bboard. I think I'm annoying everyone.
It's almost time to go home... I'm taking Ayako out to dinner for her 21st birthday. I think we'll take a ferry over to Sausalito and dine on the waterfront... y'know, it's odd. Yesterday Leland was reading some reader comments in San Francisco magazine (Leland and Jamie are our roommates in Berkeley, from CMU. ) Some jerkwad was complaining about the negative effects of the 'gay lifestyle'. From living with Leland and Jamie, apparently the 'gay lifestyle' is going to school, occasionally renting a movie or shopping in town, cooking all their own meals (unhealthy breakfasts and healthy, garlic soaked dinners), watching TV and hanging out. I'm sure if you substituted 'working 40 hours a week' for 'going to school', you'd get the average 'gay lifestyle', which is exactly the same as any other lifestyle that I know of, except perhaps more healthy. My sister has a similar lifestyle except she works a lot more and eats out constantly. My other sister smokes pot and goes out drinking instead of anything else, and doesn't cook anything that doesn't come out of a box. It sounds very similar to my parents' life, actually, but with less yardwork, tennis, and hospital visits. And more garlic. Always more garlic.
Ayako and I rarely leave the apartment except for work/school. Yesterday we went to the Japanese tea gardens. Ayako got really offended. It's very commercialized, very cheap imitation, very NOT Japanese. The kimonos were ugly, the tea was expensive, the garden was too deliberate. There was hardly any moss on the stones, and I only saw one koi. (Yes, that's my little contribution to cultural ignorance.)
Everyone's gone except me, so I'm going to listen my mp3s on these harman/kardon speakers here. Bwaaahahahahaa.
I can't believe how little work I've done in the last few days. I really should be bitchslapped.
All this job is is a free computer with fast internet connection and 40 hours of free time. It's the government, so if I accomplish anything at all they're impressed and think I'm doing a lot of work.
But I really need to call these people back... and finish these projects. I think I can get something pretty well done in the next couple of weeks, I just need to get my ass in gear. Can you tell I feel guilty about this? Argh. Lazy ass.
On our way back from GGPark yesterday we rode the bus - #71. It goes straight through Haight-Ashbury, which was our first time seeing it. Really fucking cool place, I wouldn't mind sharing a victorian with a handful of other people there. Crazy ass stores and people, like Berkeley but less collegiate. And Telegraph is getting a little mainstream now. Eh.
But anyway, these 3 guys came on the bus and sat down across from Ayako and I. One was carrying a retro golf bag he had obviously bought at one of the resell shops. Another guy was wearing checkered jeans - they looked handmade, from dark and light jeans, with a lot of strings hanging off. I forget what the other guy looked like, he was too far to my right. Anyway, they were HOT. Funky, appearance-driven, and HOT. Pretty sure they weren't gay, they were acting too stupid and ogling the Asian tramps that got on the bus a few stops later. On the way, I noticed (behind the hotties) an old car partially embedded into the side of an auto-repair shop. I pointed it out to Ayako but I think one of the hotties was in the way, cuz it took her forever to see it.
After we got off the bus (to go to a defunct vegetarian restaurant), Ayako said, "Were you thinking the same thing that I was about those three guys across from us?" I said, "What, they were funky and hot?" Ayako gushed, "They were SO cute!" Apparently she thought that I was pointing out a fake store to give her an excuse to stare at the hotties, until she saw the embedded car. Hopefully I'm as good at hiding my interest as she was, because I had no idea. Later that night we got on a different bus and apparently there were 3 hot Italian guys, but I missed them. :~( We pondered about why hot guys travel in groups of 3. I figured, if you see a pair of hot guys in San Francisco, what's your immediate reaction? Gay. Hot guys probably don't travel alone because their friends know that they will attract chicks, or at least make them easier to approach. But I wonder, is the Bay Area so saturated with hotties that the hot guys don't have ugly friends? Usually, they're like boy bands - one or two attractive ones, an average one, and two stinkers. But *all* these guys were hot. Different degrees of hotness, to be sure, but still... mmmm.
On a similar note, there was a young male type person on my bus this morning. Usually it's all middle aged commuters so my interest is peaked whenever a guy younger than 25 is on the bus. He had a shaved head... he reminded me of my cute little compact hottie that will not be here next year. There is one less delicious little ass in America. We should all mourn.
Y'know, if I'm going to keep objectifying men as sex-objects, I should make myself more attractive. But exercise is so... painful and ... time consuming. It's so much easier to *pretend* I'm attractive, and dream that Russel Crowe and Hugh Jackman are fighting over me.
I know, I know, I have a vivid imagination. Well, with my life, I have to.
I should do something useful today. I'll call back all those people I don't really want to talk to and leave voicemail, so that I *have* to return their calls tomorrow morning. Yeah. And stop this goddamn blog before it gets out of control!!!
Anyway, I made it out to San Francisco. I've been living in Berkeley, lo these 2 months, and am preparing to go back to the East Coast (shudder, gag) and return to school (sob). My parents are coming to visit next week so that gives me something to do....
I really must ask for my computer to be removed from my desk. I get absolutely no work done. I think I might actually get more work done if I'm at home, where I can sketch, but then if I need to meet with anyone, I can't. I really need to talk to my boss but he's always busy, and then he leaves. I really got absolutely nothing done today. I mean nothing. I feel bad, but this is how I work... work hard for a couple of weeks. Slack off until right before the project is due. Miraculously pull something halfway successful out of my ass. Sleep for two days. That's what I do!! I can't help it.
I've been reading my past blogs and discovered that stress and lack of sleep make me a more interesting person than does boredom. I suppose that makes sense, but dammit, no one posts to my bboard. I think I'm annoying everyone.
It's almost time to go home... I'm taking Ayako out to dinner for her 21st birthday. I think we'll take a ferry over to Sausalito and dine on the waterfront... y'know, it's odd. Yesterday Leland was reading some reader comments in San Francisco magazine (Leland and Jamie are our roommates in Berkeley, from CMU. ) Some jerkwad was complaining about the negative effects of the 'gay lifestyle'. From living with Leland and Jamie, apparently the 'gay lifestyle' is going to school, occasionally renting a movie or shopping in town, cooking all their own meals (unhealthy breakfasts and healthy, garlic soaked dinners), watching TV and hanging out. I'm sure if you substituted 'working 40 hours a week' for 'going to school', you'd get the average 'gay lifestyle', which is exactly the same as any other lifestyle that I know of, except perhaps more healthy. My sister has a similar lifestyle except she works a lot more and eats out constantly. My other sister smokes pot and goes out drinking instead of anything else, and doesn't cook anything that doesn't come out of a box. It sounds very similar to my parents' life, actually, but with less yardwork, tennis, and hospital visits. And more garlic. Always more garlic.
Ayako and I rarely leave the apartment except for work/school. Yesterday we went to the Japanese tea gardens. Ayako got really offended. It's very commercialized, very cheap imitation, very NOT Japanese. The kimonos were ugly, the tea was expensive, the garden was too deliberate. There was hardly any moss on the stones, and I only saw one koi. (Yes, that's my little contribution to cultural ignorance.)
Everyone's gone except me, so I'm going to listen my mp3s on these harman/kardon speakers here. Bwaaahahahahaa.
I can't believe how little work I've done in the last few days. I really should be bitchslapped.
All this job is is a free computer with fast internet connection and 40 hours of free time. It's the government, so if I accomplish anything at all they're impressed and think I'm doing a lot of work.
But I really need to call these people back... and finish these projects. I think I can get something pretty well done in the next couple of weeks, I just need to get my ass in gear. Can you tell I feel guilty about this? Argh. Lazy ass.
On our way back from GGPark yesterday we rode the bus - #71. It goes straight through Haight-Ashbury, which was our first time seeing it. Really fucking cool place, I wouldn't mind sharing a victorian with a handful of other people there. Crazy ass stores and people, like Berkeley but less collegiate. And Telegraph is getting a little mainstream now. Eh.
But anyway, these 3 guys came on the bus and sat down across from Ayako and I. One was carrying a retro golf bag he had obviously bought at one of the resell shops. Another guy was wearing checkered jeans - they looked handmade, from dark and light jeans, with a lot of strings hanging off. I forget what the other guy looked like, he was too far to my right. Anyway, they were HOT. Funky, appearance-driven, and HOT. Pretty sure they weren't gay, they were acting too stupid and ogling the Asian tramps that got on the bus a few stops later. On the way, I noticed (behind the hotties) an old car partially embedded into the side of an auto-repair shop. I pointed it out to Ayako but I think one of the hotties was in the way, cuz it took her forever to see it.
After we got off the bus (to go to a defunct vegetarian restaurant), Ayako said, "Were you thinking the same thing that I was about those three guys across from us?" I said, "What, they were funky and hot?" Ayako gushed, "They were SO cute!" Apparently she thought that I was pointing out a fake store to give her an excuse to stare at the hotties, until she saw the embedded car. Hopefully I'm as good at hiding my interest as she was, because I had no idea. Later that night we got on a different bus and apparently there were 3 hot Italian guys, but I missed them. :~( We pondered about why hot guys travel in groups of 3. I figured, if you see a pair of hot guys in San Francisco, what's your immediate reaction? Gay. Hot guys probably don't travel alone because their friends know that they will attract chicks, or at least make them easier to approach. But I wonder, is the Bay Area so saturated with hotties that the hot guys don't have ugly friends? Usually, they're like boy bands - one or two attractive ones, an average one, and two stinkers. But *all* these guys were hot. Different degrees of hotness, to be sure, but still... mmmm.
On a similar note, there was a young male type person on my bus this morning. Usually it's all middle aged commuters so my interest is peaked whenever a guy younger than 25 is on the bus. He had a shaved head... he reminded me of my cute little compact hottie that will not be here next year. There is one less delicious little ass in America. We should all mourn.
Y'know, if I'm going to keep objectifying men as sex-objects, I should make myself more attractive. But exercise is so... painful and ... time consuming. It's so much easier to *pretend* I'm attractive, and dream that Russel Crowe and Hugh Jackman are fighting over me.
I know, I know, I have a vivid imagination. Well, with my life, I have to.
I should do something useful today. I'll call back all those people I don't really want to talk to and leave voicemail, so that I *have* to return their calls tomorrow morning. Yeah. And stop this goddamn blog before it gets out of control!!!
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