Wednesday, September 27, 2006

...and when the pilgrims landed...

Caught a glimpse of my Sego Lily past walking out the door of my store, ran into her on my way in. I won't even mention the unfairness of her annoying infiltration into my little work sphere, but just mention that had I been given warning, I would probably have ignored her presence and marched right past; sauntered into the building wearing indignation as proudly as I would a vintage fedora, and with plenty of cut-eye. This option denied me, all I could muster was a dignified smile answered politely in kind. Look how civilised we are!

Sat down with my coffee and turned my computer on. Thought of how I would express my inner commotion. "Wicked Games" came on, and I sang my own exagerrated emotional upheaval along with Chris Isaac. No one gets off on melodrama like I do.

Monday, September 25, 2006

...i do hope they don't start it all again...

The most random thing: passing by my bookshelf, I caught sight of something and just like *that* I stumbled upon what could amount to a "site of power struggle" and resistance through language. And maybe something else besides. All of a sudden I'm inspired about things again. Saved by Sophie Kinsella, who would have thought?

...one is warp and the other woof...

I'm so tired. I am bored and tired, and have no passion for anything these days. For the first time I can remember I have made no progress in deciding and proposing my two research topics for the year; there is nothing to inspire my forward motion. I have this vague but burning ambition to apply to law school next year, without doing any of the preparation. I don't know what my future holds, really, except that I want it to include pinstripes and pumps. Everything is a chore. I can't strum up even a passing interest in the things that I usually hit 100%. Except leaving my friends parties to show up announced elsewhere. I seem still able to take Distraction Boy to the kitchen, but I think that may be more about trying to force sensation than anything else.

I'm leaving for Atlanta in 10 days. I have a feeling that will fix me. If it's not the shopping, or old colonial plantations, or balmy elm-lined walking-tour days that will do it, it's going to be the deep fried sweet potatoes.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

...everybody goes to the prom...

It's time, it's time, it's time, it's time. Grey's Anatomy, then ER. Someone PLEASE come online tonight and talk to me about this. I will need conversation and analysis, stat. (Witness my appropriate use of medical terminology, yay me!)

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

...this is how it works...

She was writing about unrequited connections this week - the hypothetical scenario was of two people, both lovely/smart/attractive. One is interested, the other is not. Why? The easy answer is chemistry, it wasn't there. I really do believe in chemistry, and am grateful for it. I'm grateful because for me, that is a hard and straight fact for the failure of otherwise well suited individuals to connect. Chemistry is there or it isn't, and that's that.

Earlier this year I met someone who was lovely/smart/attractive, but more than that. From the day we first spoke I knew two things completely:
i) he is More Than That, and
ii) I am not even a shady presence on his radar.

Despite that I know the reasons for it are circumstantial. Or at least I think I know that. I think that circumstances aside, we would have clicked, maybe. (I won't even answer the inevitable question of "how do you know"?. I just do). We already clicked as people, in conversations. It's so so easy to extend that when you don't know otherwise.

There are two definations often cited for "unrequited" in the dictionary. The first is "unreturned"; the second, the one I immediately looked to, is "unanswered". I can do "unreturned", it makes sense, it's undeniable. It's harder to accept "unanswered" because it had potential on some level. There was maybe something that might have been there; fluid and blurred around the edges, as hope is. So different from the hard edges of things that never were.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

...all my friends say that it's better...

He came up to me as I was approaching the steps, smiled. I asked him if he needed help and he said no, but caught me before I could walk away. "I don't really understand that theory, you know - E=MC2 - of Einsten's". Not knowing how to answer that, I waited until he continued. He spoke about angel's flight and how since they are sent from God, they fly faster than anything, ever, bringing their hope to us as soon as they can. Faster than the speed of light, which isn't really the fastest possible speed, like the scientists say, like Einstein made us believe. He thought that might make me feel better, he said. And that I shouldn't worry because God's grace has room for us all. He invited me to his group's next meeting, and said they were always there for people who are looking for Light.

Don't I have Light?

Friday, September 15, 2006

...there was a roadblock...

I spent most of the screening of "To get to heaven, First you have to die" (from Tajikistan) deciphering the language and marveling over its similarity to Farsi, with the odd Russian word thrown in. And the completely neat-o fact that the language, while clearly derived from Persian, was written on official building and road signs in the Cyrillic script. Oh the influence of politics and invasion, how you linger...

Isn't there a career or something I can create that will let me do nothing but figure out languages all day? Maybe a spy, or a codebreaker. Could that work?

I love the movie, by the way.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

...sailors would guide entire journeys by it...

i) I don't know if I really prefer my goodbyes this way, blase and quick to the punch. I know I definately don't want them with drinks on the side. What a disaster.

ii) Dressed up for the film screening tonight (the film sucked, for the record) because it was being held at Cumberland, in Yorkville, across from that nice big hotel People stay at, and I thought maybe I would run into Brad Pitt. And if that were to happen, I should look my best, giving him the opportunity to realise how madly in love he is with me. So really I was just making it easy on him. It was magnanimous of me.

But he didn't show, so it was for nothing. Mostly.

iii) Oh gosh, tonight the season finale of Grey's Anatomy was on. Do we know what that means? Next week is the premiere. I can't stand it. The finale nearly killed me, do we remember? Taking Away the Love, and all that? It was like a betrayal, you don't Do that to people!

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

...maybe there was a shoe involved...

This is what I know about the school year so far: it isn't going to be easy, but it's going to be a lot of fun. I have three research heavy courses with profs I have had before and have adored. The term started off by throwing me some random encounters, including among others a reconnection with an old friend from middle school, of all places.

The great thing about these repeat profs I have this year is that both are the "do and let do" type - they'll let you have an idea and run with it, basically. I'm thinking of tackling the advertising world for my Linguistics/Power course; the Dove "Campaign for Real Beauty" and Reitman's "Designed for the Real World" campaigns have been weaving through my head for some time, and are shadowed with ambivalence from my part. Do I love them or hate them? Who doesn't want to be beautiful in their way, in their everyday tasks? But. Why is beauty still the defining aim? At the same time - they are beauty/fashion companies so it's beauty that is their stock in trade, not feminist identity issues. The thing that really interests me about these campaigns though is the target audience. For years, beauty campaigns have featured stick-thin models in high fashion looks, and urged us to aspire to that. These new campaigns are telling women, you don't need to do that. Be beautiful in who you are. And therefore making their products desirable for an entire new group of women - the sometimes awkward, bad-hair day having everylady (ie: me).

In its own way, there is an aspect of teen literature, especially in the series "The Clique" which plays with the same idea. The protagonist is a visitor from another state, living with the most popular girl in school. The book is filled with product placement and cultural references that Massie (the leader of the Clique) makes use of to keep her status; her visiting uncool friend's reaction is usually a mix of admiration and mockery, but also quite obviously envy. Even though she is generally comfortable with her identity, a part of her wants to be Massie, and the book is a subtle toolbox to show her how. No different from the Dove or Reitman's campaigns - be who you are, but aspire to be prettier. Use our products to accentuate (re: improve upon) what you already are.

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In a completely contrary situation, my Canadian Politics course is a dull little enterprise if I ever saw one. No original work, no creative ideas, no really contemporarily relevant assignments (and really, if now isn't an appropriate time to study the practical influence of politics on our lives, then I don't know when is). Skimming through the essay topic lists, I focused on the one (of around 50) that offered any scope for imagination and realised only with primary sources and individual research would it be any fun at all. Running it by the prof, he says we're not really expected to do any of our own research in this undergrad course. We want to teach you your proper "scholarly credentials" first. Which translates into "blah blah blitty blah do the busywork I give you and stop pestering me, I know more than you". Fun Fun. Oh University of T******, you contain multitudes...

Sunday, September 10, 2006

...it happened in a remote parking lot...

Jafar Panahi's film Offside, in addition to being beautiful and exciting, had me thinking about the things that hold meaning for us, and for which we are willing to risk certain inconvenience, even injury. In this film, several young women dress as men in an attempt to sneak into Azadi Stadium to watch the World Cup qualifying match between Iran and Bahrain. Football fanaticism aside, these women were really in a precarious situation, especially after being caught. What was it about this game that brought them to such extreme actions?

I can't help being a little disappointed that, off the top of my head, there is nothing in my life for which I can see myself taking any risks. The passion just isn't there. Even on the issues and dreams which inspire me to movement and action, I can't move much past drawing elaborate plans in a series of brightly coloured notebooks, organized thematically.

The director spoke after the movie and before it, an introduction, some memories and thoughts and answers to some of the audiences questions. His passion was obvious; I can imagine he, too, would take (and must have already taken) risks to pursue the things that stir him. When did he know? How do people come to realize, "here! this is what I need to do, this is me"?

I wonder if I lived in any other society, one where things weren't so easy and undemanding, I would be more decided about who I am, and eager to manifest it. It is so easy to live a perfectly satisfactory life here, just coasting. It started to occur to me even more when I started working where I am now, seeing how many people resigned themselves to where they are when it is so different from the dreams they once had. Because they have no real compelling reason to change; make some money, go out for drinks at the end of the week, maybe dancing occasionally to break the monotony. I want to figure out exactly what I want from my life, and build it up boldly in my head, turn it into a quest. I want to have a reason to eventually say "okay. it's enough now. it's time".

...even if she wasn't smiling...

The task has been this: trying to read everything in sight before school begins and I run out of the time to do so. Tonight was Michael Hoeye's "Time Stops for No Mouse" and Meg Rosoff's "How I Live Now". The first was forgettable, the second completely incredible. I'm stunned that this was Rosoff's first novel, it is the strongest teen fiction that I have read this year, bar none, and is so astonishing. I can't go to sleep now, the story is still threading through my mind.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

...lucky she was hot, at the end...

I wish I had a place where I could just vent about work on the days where it makes. me. want. to. die.

Friday, September 08, 2006

...healthy aloe vera plants by the window...

I did what the redheads said and left the painting for a few days before looking at it again, deciding what's missing. I realized it's a personality that's missing - the brush strokes are so thin, you can't even see the lines well from a distance. What am I afraid of? When I was little I used to trace the edges of shapes darker, fill them in light. Perfectly shaded pencil crayons, perfectly unimposing. A teacher I had then, Jaleh, came up behind me once with a dark blue pencil and drew sharp, stark, LOUD lines on the page, and told me to draw braver. You'll never pierce the soul that way, she said.

If I were drawing the day braver, I would have substituted "hey, how are you!" with something that has a little more meaning, that represents all the things I won't put words to, but it doesn't mean they aren't there. Instead I did everything right within the lines. I didn't even wear lipstick.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

...yes, friends, the new tubo ginsu...

i) They activated my Visa card this morning - I don't know which braintrust came up with this great plan. I'm already planning my first purchase tomorrow at 7am when the festival box office opens... and my impending future of never-ending debt.

ii) I wonder if watching the Ninja Turtles will bring me to a new spiritual plane.

iii) If that doesn't, maybe Christina Aguilera's new album will?

iv) Stopped by the school this morning to see the little kids arriving for first day, got my tentative schedule for the fall. Grade 1/2's again this year, with my two favorite teachers. So exciting! I love first day of school.

...let's say we turn the page...

The Zoom Media ads in the building elevator seemed out of place and odd: bright pictures of happy people, and the normal everyday things they do outside. One is walking to market, one is gardening. They are all smoking. In large letters under the profile: "The unsung hero, the outside smoker".

Fine print: Thank you for smoking outside.

I couldn't decide whether I supported this campaign or not. Sure it's commendable for smokers to take it outside, but at this point in the game I thought it was a given. Having a public service announcement that says "thank you for smoking", under any guise, seems ridiculous.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

...at first I thought it just looked good...

I spent the weekend with a couple of girls whose party tricks include clapping their feet together and being the epitome of awesomeness. I made friends with their futon, and sort of with their cat. The unofficial inauguration of the Easy Riders went something like this - party on Thursday, work on Friday; party on Friday, work on Saturday; party on Saturday, work on Sunday; go home/shower/change, then work again on Sunday. The reason I haven't been blogging is obvious, I think - I have been running around exhausted. Tomorrow I will write in depth about some things, and say nothing about others. Maybe I'll watch a movie, maybe I'll just count the moments.

Friday, September 01, 2006

...gifted coffee and moustafa...

The pink lady made me a magic love-nest in a box, to work romantic mojo. A poem, some honey, two little birds and all the hope in the world. Something tells me nudging little changes in the cosmos may not be in my karmic best interests... but then I think, karma owes me one. Hell, she owes me several.

For of those of you paying attention, this does not, in fact, constitute "going for it". I am hereby making this the universe's call.

Also, Someone took the Hint: visitor in Javaville, surprise hug from behind. Also, my email isn't working, so everyone forgive me. Especially Saba because I promised you an address tonight and I can neither find nor send it. But I heart you and your British self. Have a scone, and think of me.