A Lot of Things Different

There is nothing better (or worse) for nostalgia than being up in the middle of the night and listening to Kenny Chesney's ballads. I was originally going to put up "Old Blue Chair" but this one is even worse (or better).

I'd spend a lot more time in the pouring rain without an umbrella
Covering my head
And I'd stood up to that bully when he pushed and called me names
But I was too afraid
And I'd a gone on and saw Elvis that night he came to town
But mama said I couldn't
And I'd a went skinny dipping with Jenny Carson that time she dared me to
But I didn't

Oh I, I'd done a lot of things different

I wished I'd a spent more time with my dad when he was alive
Now I don't have the chance
I wish I had told my brother how much I loved him before he went off to war
But I just shook his hand
And I wish I had gone to church on Sunday morning when my grandma begged me too
But I was afraid of God
And I wish I would've listened when they said Boy, you're gonna wish you hadn't
But I wouldn't

Oh I, I'd done a lot of things different

People say they wouldn't change a thing, even if they could
Oh but I would

There was this red dress she wanted one time so bad she could taste it
And I should've bought it, but I didn't
She wanted to paint our bedroom yellow and trim it blues and greens
But I wouldn't let her, wouldn't a hurt nuthin
She loved to be held and kissed and touched but I didn't do it
Not nearly enough
And if I'd a known that dance was going to be our last dance
I'd a asked that band to play on and on on and on

Oh I, I'd done a lot of things different

People say they wouldn't change a thing, even if they could
Oh but I would
Oh whoa Oh I, I'd done a lot of things different
Oh I, I'd done a lot of things
I think we've all do a lot of things different

****************

I don't know how this is productive for my Keats paper; but it definitely got me into a big ol' ball of emotional. Which, I suppose, is good when studying the romantics.

People Give Me a Headache

My job sometimes gives me a headache. Not because I don't love it; I do. I like helping people realize they are better writers than they think they are, and I LOVE hearing that I helped them get a better grade than they thought they would. However, there are some days... Some of "those" days... when the people who come in make me want to bang my head against the wall.
Today I read papers that:
*advocated global warming;
*used as part of its argument the "fact" that viruses are not infectious in warmer temperatures (the woman did not know what "malaria" was);
*** this is from the CDC website entry on malaria: "Warmer ambient temperatures shorten the duration of the extrinsic cycle, thus increasing the chances of transmission. Conversely, below a minimum ambient temperature (15°C or 59°F for Plasmodium vivax, 20°C or 68°F for P. falciparum), the extrinsic cycle cannot be completed and malaria cannot be transmitted. This explains in part why malaria transmission is greater in warmer areas of the globe (tropical and semitropical areas and lower altitudes)"
*argued that gays and lesbians who have sex before marriage are part of the reason why marriage values have gone down in recent years (ignoring the fact that gays and lesbians, as of now, can't get married- so sex before marriage is a kind of obscure idea);
*called pre-marital sexual relations "living in sin;"
*described the process of dress-making without once using the word "thread" because the woman writing the paper does now own a dictionary;
*described the different kinds of pores on a sea sponge;
*and my favorite of all, claimed women will benefit from marriage counseling because they are households and have no jobs or education -- no, that is not a typo; women are "households" and apparently all women in 2008 in California are without education and job skills.
*Oh, I forgot another great one -- the fact that a man who pays child support has more responsibility than a live-in father who actually raises the child.

The willful ignorance some people hold on to is just incredible. I mean, statements like "viruses aren't infectious in higher temperatures" without even bothering to wonder if this is true at all is disgusting. The only evidence she had for this was that she gets sicker in winter than in the summer. So really, the only "viruses" she was talking about were the flu or colds, ignoring viruses that affect millions of people who suffer from stale water that is worse and worse as temperatures rise. The virus comment was then followed by "higher temperatures will help people save money because they won't spend money on heat in the summer" - what about A/C you say? Covered -- she doesn't have air conditioning, so it won't affect HER. Marcello made a good point -- as long as things don't affect people DIRECTLY, they don't give a fuck.

Again, the willfulness to ignore other people's needs or concerns is so frustrating. I have to say, that this job has definitely opened my eyes to how many people lead their lives - either with their head in the sand, or with their eyes looking only in the mirror of their own immediate lives instead of sneaking a peak at the world around them.

This is one reason I really look forward to the move up north. I want to be around people who care at least a little bit about what happens in the world, and who think about the words they use, and their significance and impact. I understand that for many people, life is hard, much harder than it is for me, with the many advantages I have. I know that people work hard and long hours, have children to raise, homework to complete since they are also in college, and who knows what craziness is going on in their private life. But in this day and age, and especially living in California, there is no excuse for closed mindedness! (Is that closed minded of me to say that?!?!)

Oh this is giving me another headache. I think I prefer Henry James to essays lauding global warming!


OH OH I FORGOT THE BEST ONE!!!!
(Paper): "Children of divorce experience fatal and non-fatal injuries."
(Me): "I don't understand. What do you mean by this? This doesn't make sense."
(She): blank stare
(Me): "What injuries do children receive as a result of their parents' divorce?"
(She): "They have emotional pain."
(Me): "But 'fatal' means they die!"
(She): "Oh. I didn't know that. I mean that they have a hard time emotionally."
(Me): (and to myself): "Where's a wall? Must bang head against it. NOW!"

Nostalgia on the 57S

The hills to my left are covered in tall yellow wildflowers; the gloom and wind and yellow hills are free of worry, unlike the small and big and giant cars that trudge along that curve in the freeway every day. The cars look tired, like over-worked horses that day after day climb those hills. The people inside them could be young or old, but they are all looking forward and you can't really tell; but every now and then someone has a driver's side window rolled down, and you see a pink or brown or ensleeved elbow resting in the sun. At noon traffic is heavier than in the morning, a non-nonsensical equation waiting to be solved by traffic math geeks sitting in a cube. In the carpool lane, a white van with black windows drives slower than I wish to go, but I don't exit to pass because I like being in the far left where more and more you see the yellow stickers on the hippy cars. In the right line, small cars zoom from on ramps and proceed to cut off the slow giants in the second lane. The semis, the 18-wheelers, the flatbeds carrying tractors and pipes and crates let the small cars jump in front of them, like elephants indulging wild hares jumping around the their heavy feet. It is a cement jungle today on the 57S, and the daily migration is in full swing.

The people drive with their eyes forward. They make me sad. They make me want to think of happy things, and random memories pop up like fizz bubbles in mineral water, out of nowhere, out of inside.

I remember choreographing roller blading routines with Melissa when we were in 5th and 6th grades; we wanted to be the ice skating girls from the TV, and we got real good.

I remember college and Clockwork Orange on Friday nights even after we turned 21, and being able to dance in heels for hours but when we'd walk to the car my feet felt like they'd fall off.

I remember that first spring break with Marcello when I brought with me all my little skirts and platform shoes and it was too cold to wear any of it, but one night we listened to Sinatra for hours so it didn't matter anyway.

I remember when Nadine turned in "Malcolm in the Middle" and how giddy we were at her witty title, and how I made it through junior and senior year by using her laptop for all my all-nighters.

I remember driving to Santa Monica to my internship and going to lunch on the Promenade and thinking, this is the life.

I remember going to Romania and spending the hot summers driving around the country and singing along to silly pop songs with the windows down because he didn't have air conditioning.

I remember junior year and talking on my cell phone while sitting in the empty bathtub and the world felt so small and Nadine would come home and she would understand why I was sitting in that tiny tub with my jeans on and the cell phone running out of battery.

I remember thinking that life was going to be so much better when we graduated and life began and I can't remember why.

I remember moving to Hollywood and trying so hard to hold on to something because I couldn't face failing at one more thing that year.

I remember when in senior in high school a friend told me no one ever "feels" like an adult and how I didn't believe him until this year.

I think of the people on the 57S and wonder where they are all going and what some of them are thinking about, what memories bubble to the surface while they drive behind a Sentra with a smashed tail-light and an Oregon license plate. I wonder how many notice the yellow wildflowers that cover the hills. The wind makes waves among them, and the hill is a rolling yellow and green sea to the left and the right of the black cement scar that runs through it. In front of my I see the San Bernardino mountains, and one lone peak still shows a trace of white. I must exit the carpool to remain on the 57 and soon the 10 divides away; I am almost at school, and Brad Paisley is singing and brings me back to the moment at hand. The nostalgia is over and an aching for the near future takes over.

Like Billy Pilgrim, I have become unstuck in time today, as the past and the future bounce against one another and I don't know if when I get out of the car and put my feet on the ground I will be in the present. But I am, because parking was a pain and I hope I don't get a ticket parking in the staff lot, and I think that book was supposed to come today. I don't know where the past went and I don't have time to think about the future just now.

Jet Set

My whole life has been spent living out of suitcases -- packing, unpacking; packing, unpacking. Every day I feel grateful that I found a partner in crime who has likewise been blessed (or cursed?) with the itch to jet set, and together we are perfecting the jet setting couple lifestyle! I don't like to brag (yea ok I do, just a little) but there are definite perks to having a trans-California relationship. This past long weekend is a perfect example.

To start off, I got to fly off on Thursday night, a perfect way to turn my back on Burke and Kant! YAY! After attempting (weakly) to tackle Tristram Shandy on the plane, I decided that Glamour Magazine was much more mini-vacation material. After a lovely late night dinner date in San Jose, reveling in the chicken madeira at Cheesecake Factory, we had a great windy drive back to Santa Cruz, basking in Kenny Chesney and the fog.

On Friday, little Miss Spoiled slept in until -honestly- 1:15!!! That's half the day! I got so lost in those fluffy blankies that I couldn't peel myself out of them until I literally became ashamed of still being in bed. That night, we had a tasty health food/Mexican fusion dinner and saw Dan in Real Life at the Del Mar, which is always a fun adventure. Last time we were there, the guy at the candy counter gave me a free cookie! This time, no free cookie, but I did buy a vegan German chocolate cupcake which was pretty bomb! I call it the celebratory "4 years of knowing Marcello" cupcake. It even had a cute little frosting flower on top!

Not exactly the one we had, but close

Saturday morning, I did something I hardly ever do - I let myself be talked into waking up early on the weekend! YES! Because I was really excited to embark on the type of adventure I like bestest of all - road trip with my man! We were up, up, and away, heading to Point Reyes, which was about an hour away from San Francsico. We were armed with no map and no snacks, but lots of songs on the mp3 player! This was the first time I actually drove across the Golden Gate in years, and it was still as cool as I remembered it. We didn't really know much about Point Reyes, except what a British-published tour guide of California told us. We finally got to this beautiful peninsula, and though at first maybe a bit underwhelming, we had a great time enjoying the beautiful scenery. Sparkly blue ocean on the right, sparkly blue ocean on the left, rolling green hills between the asphalt and the sparkliness, and scattered across the rolling green hills, my favorite animal in the whole world -- the moo cow! Let me tell you, the commercials don't lie - happy cows DO come from California! They have a permanent beachside residence, rolling fog comes and cools them down, sunny Cali skies clear up to warm them, and they're milk cows, so they will be around for a while without the threat of being.. well you know. I won't mention it here. Okay so we had read that there's a nifty light house at the tip of the peninsula, and we decided to track it down. And oh goodness by the time we got there we were kind of over it, but we decided to go seek it out. So we park, and walk the half mile to - get this- the equivalent of thirty flights of stairs that take you down to the lighthouse! Yes, I said down. So Veronica gets all cocky and thinks, oh what's a few stairs? We can do it! So we walk down, and walk and walk, and get to the lighthouse, which is cool but let's be honest, it's a lighthouse. How overly exciting can it be? We take some pretty cute pictures, and decide to brave the walk up those same thirty flights of stairs. And little weakling Veronica nearly had a heart attack! I am SO inspired to get in shape now. Yes sir! By the time we made it back to the car all I wanted was FOOD! We snaked our way back into the itsy bitsy little towns on the way and got some really tasty pizza in Inverness (I think). Then, it was daring the traffic back time! YES! Having no map and only one good sense of direction between us, we got on and off freeways, on and off bridges, in and out of traffic, and went in or around or above, I have no idea now, the entire Bay Area. After a little fun stroll around Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco and even a bit of shopping, we decided it was time to call it a day, but not before ending up in San Mateo, indulging in some truly tasty rolls at Joy Sushi! If it wasn't for the hour's drive back, I'd say that was the perfect end to an adventurous day!

Point Reyes Lighthouse and Stairs!

Sunday was really chill, with American Gangster being the main attraction, and actually catching a matinee at the main Santa Cruz theater proved to be not such a horrible thing after all, though the girl next to me kept sending text messages. Oh well. I can't think of a hotter date than having three sexy men to focus on - my first ex-husband Russell, the hotness that is Denzel, and my own sexy man! Monday was study day, but really was spent mostly eating brownies, watching reality tv, and just a little bit of Melville. This morning, it was back to the airport again, with beautiful rolling fog and traffic reports that told us that cows and deer were causing havoc somewhere! No kidding! Cows and deer! When's the last time that was mystery behind LA traffic jams? In just a couple of hours, I was sitting at work in Norwalk, talking thesis statements, but still totally basking in the fact that in the last few days, I'd spent time in San Jose, Santa Cruz, the countryside outside San Francisco, the city of San Francisco, and San Mateo! And we just had the funnest little mini dates on the way, like the really fun dinner last night. I always knew ravioli are tasty, but who knew they're even better when they're deep fried!?

I guess the point of this blog is me just basking in the aftermath of a really great, relaxing, fun, and adventurous few days with my best buddy, even though right now he's 300 miles away.

Original post date: November 6, 2007

Venus

I know I say "I looove that movie!!" about a lot of films, but really -- I LOOOOVE this movie!!! As Peter O'Toole puts it in the interview that's on the DVD, "Venus" is "about a dirty old man and a sluttish young woman" -- but it is so much more. Really, it's about the unexpected joy that someone, really anyone, can possibly bring to our lives not only when we least expect it, but also when we may have forgotten that we can still experience that joy. The passion that the human body itself represents and is always empowered to instill in others is another main theme, humorously wrapped up by the strange relationship that strikes up between a brash, country teenage girl and a septagenarian ladies' man. "What interests you?" the young Jessie asks of old Maurice. "Pleasure interests me. I have tried to give pleasure," he replies. Now, in the last few weeks of his long life, at the end of a successful career, Maurice is unable to provide the sexual pleasure that he formelry could have, but he gives Jessie a much more important one - that of being listened to, taken care of, loved unquestionignly and unabashadly, a love that is part dirty old man and part fatherly protection.

Vanessa Redgrave also has a very small (three scenes) but quite memorable part, that of Maurice's wife. These two have shared decades of their lives, even after their marriage dissolved decades ago after another woman, she tells him, "took you away from us." Strong, funny, indominable, Maurice allows himself weakness in front of her, reflecting on another complex side of human relationships. "I loved you, for a time, and after that I was always very fond of you." Painful as the words are to say and hear, they perhaps encapsulate what many experience in marriages or in long friendships. Passion flares and fades, but that fondness that we grow to have for people is somehow relentless and more important than all the passionate sex in the world.

Peter O'Toole (above, in "Lawrence of Arabia") makes "Venus" such a sensitive, attentive movie. I loved watching it, and I seriously think you should go out and rent it right now! Special bonus is the super funny scene in which Maurice and his friend of 50 years get into a fight in their local cafe, hitting each other over the head with rolled up newspapers. My mother very poignantly remarked, "Oh, how foolish men are, even when they are old!"

Original post date: September 2, 2007