The Adventures of Fifi

Internet Showdown

2008-07-22T13:44:00.000-07:00

Ryan, Olivier, and I faced off this evening with a round of clips from the internet. Ryan had been showing small clips from MadTV here and there, but tonight's Internet showdown opened with an email/powerpoint Olivier got from a friend about weather and weather-detecting devices. One was a picture of a rock on a string with a sign that talked about how to interpret the rock. The second involved a certain male appendage and how it might be used to gauge the weather as well. Ryan mentioned a singer from "Nouvelle Star" (France's American Idol/Pop Idol) that became an internet sensation after comparing herself favorably to Celine Dion. I immediately followed this with clips of Tina Chen singing "Gimme More." The death blow and end to the internet showdown came when I asked them whether they had seen 2 Girls 1 Cup. After much advance warning, I showed it to them and Olivier immediately sprang off the couch and ran away shouting about how it disgusting it was in French while Ryan curled up into the fetal position with his hands in front of his eyes. When Olivier came back into the room and Ryan uncurled himself, we finished watching and then split our guts watching the reaction videos on YouTube.

Ah, the glorious internets.

Theatre in the Courtyard

2008-07-17T05:26:00.001-07:00

In addition to the Tour de France, Pau hosted all sorts of activities to celebrate Bastille Day. On the 14th, they had all sorts of free concerts in the park, fireworks, movies played in "plein air", and best of all they had a play in the courtyard of the Chateau de Pau (picture on the right) on the 14th and the 15th.

It was a play by Moliere, Le Mariage Force (The Forced Marriage) and starred none other than Gerard Holtz, sports announcer of France 2, playing the lead role. It also happened to air live on television on the day that we went to see it. Unfortunately, as we arrived at the castle, we noticed there was a crowd around the entrance. The sign on the wall said that the play was by invitation only and that it was full for both nights.

As we waited to see what would happen, Ryan noticed a woman who often hosts students in her home there with a friend. The two are history professors at the university and the four of us began to talk. It seemed strange to us that it was advertised on all the brochures for the weekend's activities, but it never mentioned that it was by invitation only or that it was already full. As we spoke, the two professors began to talk animatedly with a woman who was letting people into the gate. It turns out that she was a former student of theirs and if there were empty spots, she guaranteed that we would be let in to see the show.

So we waited until the starting time of 9:30 came and went. The courtyard seemed to be filling up completely and we began to lose hope, but then at the last minute, they decided to let a few people in. Another man opened the gate and they told everyone to remain calm (apparently the crowd had gotten out of hand the night before and tried to push their way in to see the play) while he let a few people in. He had almost let too many people in and didn't see the woman trying to get us through the gate, when finally, she said "Hurry, let's go" and directed the two women to enter. They paused and pointed at us to ask if Ryan and I could come as well and they let us in, just before they closed the gate again! I was literally the last person to enter the gate.

We walked in and sat ourselves in the courtyard and noticed there were more chairs and were relieved to see that the others who were waiting were let in as well. There were six cameras posted around and one man who shot the audience for reactions. We're not sure if we made it on TV or not, because we didn't know it would be airing until after we were already inside. We should have called Olivier and asked him to tape it for us, but they had already told us we needed to turn off all cell phones.

The play was great and it turns out that the sports caster really can act. I managed to understand about 80% of it, and Ryan translated the rest so it was a really enjoyable evening. I've never done anything like it before so it was a pretty amazing experience. We finished up the evening at around 11:30 by having a glass of wine at a wine bar around the corner. Even though it was a Tuesday night, and quite late, there were still a whole bunch of people downtown sitting in restaurants and bars outside. Ryan said they must have all been there for the Tour de France and were enjoying the "jour de repos (rest day)" before heading off to follow the Tour to the next stop. We made it home by midnight, not bad for a Tuesday night!

119 Intestinal Distress

2008-07-14T07:41:00.001-07:00

Poor Ryan. As he is the Asst. Director of the exchange student program, he often has to deal with students' problems. Just this past Friday, some students came to his office and asked him to help plan their long weekend trip--they were leaving the next day. That evening, he got a phone call from a student in Spain, saying her travel buddy had left his passport on the train and asking what to do. Those problems are relatively easily dealt with, but last night he had a doozy.

A student called at 4:30 am to say her friend was vomiting and was having horrible stomach pain. Since she didn't speak very good English and her friend spoke even less, Ryan had to take the girl to the hospital to translate. It turns out that she was, um, backed up and that was the cause of the vomiting and cramps. Poor Ryan had to break the news to this girl that she was full of poo and that she would be getting an enema. Nothing like early morning poop-shoot cleansing to bring two people together.

This afternoon we ran into the girl and her friends leaving downtown to go to the 'pharmacie' for her medicine. She was appreciative and a bit embarrassed, as one can imagine.
I've been worried about something similar happening to me since there's a whole lot of white crusty bread and cheese around, but almost nothing with any fiber. Luckily, I picked up a box of cereal at the grocery store that bears a strong resemblance to Super Colon Blow Cereal. I think I'll survive.

Former Minor Celebrities

2008-07-11T06:28:00.000-07:00

The best part, by far, of the trip to France was waiting in the Cleveland Airport at the baggage check in counter. As I fumbled with the self-check in machine, and then two other Continental folks fumbled with their machines to get me checked in, I looked around. Who did I see two machines away? None other than Scut Farkus of The Christmas Story himself! I was so excited! Unfortunately, I couldn't remember the name of the character, the name of the actor, and barely the name of the movie, and I couldn't say "Hey, you're that one guy from that one movie about Christmas, right?"

Ryan didn't believe that I could possibly recognize him 20 years after he made this movie, but I had recently seen an episode of Charmed (thanks TNT for your many, many reruns!) in which he had appeared. At the time I thought, "Hey, that's that one guy from that one movie about Christmas!" Now, I wished I had looked up his name.

Anyway, it was him. Flying out of Cleveland to who knows where. Ah, former minor celebrities...

The Dax Connection or "You're not dead!"

2008-07-10T11:11:00.001-07:00

Adventures have a way of jostling all the best laid plans. Despite my plan to fly into Paris, jump a shuttle to the airport, and take a direct train to Pau, I ended up in an unanticipated situation.

The non-stop flight from Cleveland was great and I had even lucked out by getting a seat in the emergency exit aisle. Extra leg room ahoy! Unfortunately, it turns out the extra leg room comes at the cost of reclining the chair even the tiniest bit. Now, I know those chairs are not La-Z boys in any sense, but I'll tell you what, those two inches make all the difference on an 8-hour flight. Well, a 7-hour flight normally, but with the huge thunderstorm that rolled in 20 minutes before the flight was scheduled to leave, we had about an hour delay.

This kind of threw the whole schedule out of whack because I foolishly had only scheduled 2 hours and 45 mins to get myself from the airport to the train station. In any case, as I landed, I got myself as quickly as possible to the shuttle stop. I had planned it so that if I got on a shuttle between 8:00 and 9:00, I could make it to the train on time, with a bit of time to spare. So, when I boarded the shuttle at 8:45, I thought to myself "I'm still in the window. I can make the train."

Then we hit the traffic.

I'm not sure why I thought the shuttle would only take 50 minutes when it was in the thick of late morning rush hour in one of the BIGGEST CITIES IN THE WORLD. Dumbass. Anyway, the shuttle took about 1 hour and 35 minutes to get to the train station and I rolled up at 10:25, 15 minutes after the departure of my train to Pau.

Now, some of you may be familiar with the problems I've had scheduling this train to begin with. When buying the ticket the first time around, in my haste, I forgot that I was landing on the 9th, but leaving the States on the 8th. So, I was forced to exchange my ticket for a hefty $50 USD fee. Luckily, it ended being cheaper to take a seat in First Class, so I thought that at least I would be on a direct train to Pau and I would be riding in comfort.

So here I am in Montparnasse, which in the 6 years since I've been has become a rundown craphole filled to the brim with incredibly impatient people, with a useless ticket and bundle of nervous energy in my stomach. I had already resigned myself to having to buy a new ticket on the shuttle, but I was worried that I didn't have any contact information for my friend Ryan. No phone number, no address, just a name and a city. So I really had no way of telling him that I wouldn't be on the train, nor of telling him when I would get there. Mistake number 2.

At this point, it's 10:30 am (about 4:30 am my time) and I've been up for about 22 hours or so and was seeing no end in sight. So I make my way up to the counter, after being yelled at for zoning out in line behind a woman who had also zoned out and wasn't moving, and attempt to tell the woman what has happened in my rusty, rusty French. It must have worked because she only giggled at my broken French once and I got a fresh ticket for a train leaving in a few hours. Luckily, I didn't have to buy a whole new ticket, but I did have to pay an extra 22 Euro, making this ticket officially the most expensive one-way ticket of my life. In addition, I had been bumped back to 2nd class and would now be changing trains in Dax, with a one hour wait between trains. Ack!

As I wait, I concentrate on not falling asleep and not having my passport stolen. I become irrationally nervous that someone will try to steal things from me when I travel internationally, so I often hole up somewhere and stay until it is time to leave. Call it paranoid, but it has worked for me so far.

About a quarter to noon, I take my things into the large waiting area where the huge signs indicate the train schedule. It says that the sign will display the platform the train is arriving at 20 from the train's departure. So, with my train departing at 12:10, I look at the board anxiously and wait. 15 minutes later, it still doesn't say where this train is and it's leaving in 10 minutes. At this moment, the words of ticket clerk are running through my head. "Don't miss this train or you will have to buy a whole new ticket." As my nervousness mounts, I finally hear the clack of the tiles turning and our platform number appears. Suddenly a mass of people begin moving towards the platform to catch our train. It's a bit crazy as folks start running down the platform to get their car in the remaining five minutes before departure. I thank myself for removing as much extra weight as I could from my bags as I struggle to lift the gigantic suitcase I still have up the stairs and through the train car.

As I plunk myself down, I take a deep breath and just wait.

The rest of the train trip went smoothly and I even managed to get myself a bottle of water and a snack during the hour layover in Dax. The weather was beautiful and the temperature wasn't too hot. I still had now way of contacting Ryan, but I figured that he manages students all the time, so he must have some that miss a train. I knew he would be worried, but I hoped he would wait for the next train from Paris to see whether I was on it. I hoped that he hadn't called my parents and made them worry that I had gotten lost, kidnapped, or killed somewhere in France, or even that I hadn't made it France at all.

By the time I had pulled into Pau, I had come up with a plan. If Ryan wasn't at the train station, I would ask someone at the ticket counter about a man who had been there looking for me. I knew that he would have asked someone about me (which he confirmed when we did finally meet up) and maybe even have left a number or someway of reaching him. Luckily, when I stepped off the train I looked up and saw him waving his arms and smiling at me. He ran under the tracks and came over to meet me and said "You're not dead!"

So we made back to his place and I got unpacked. 36 hours was a long time to be awake and alert. Next time, I'm taking the train directly from the airport, no matter how many connections I have to make. I'd rather not hassle with traffic in the future.

Revival

2008-07-10T11:00:00.000-07:00

As I'm actually having an adventure other than grad school, I've decided to revive my blog. I'll post photos from my vacation here to share with you. I hope you enjoy them!

Musings from the Depths: Week One

2006-08-24T08:07:00.000-07:00

And thus begins my first week of graduate school--a clogged toilet and an exploded pen. Liquids and solids refuse to go into or come out of containers with any sort of regularity, including the food I'm not eating due to nervousness, the coffee and water I'm spilling on my shirt, and the general mayhem of packing my bag for class and teaching. I'm fumbling already.

All the nervousness is forgotten temporarily when I walk into my office. "Why is my desk breathing?" I ask my one of my many officemates. It's not some hallucination or a flashback stemming from some drug experimentation, my desk sounds like it's breathing, or there is a cd player behind the wall with cd endlessly cycling and reading error, or maybe the ghost of a graduate student trapped in the walls whose excessive smoking habit had them later placed on a respirator.

And there are many ghosts on campus with me. My friends, colleagues, and cohort who have all left to pursue whatever other goals they had planned, and oddly enough a ghost of myself. One more eager, energetic, open, and malleable than the woman here today. I find myself in class speaking with ghosts of Taiwan. I find myself unwilling to speak up and force my way into conversations with boisterous theater students debating the preoccupations of critics despite my ready and waiting contributions. Instead I sit and think about how my silence grows ever louder. Can I re-inhabit the ghost of myself, will I find that the new casing still holds many of the same skills? How do I incorporate these changes into my academic self? In the course of readings on the Apollonian (mind)/ Dionysian (body) split in the world of opera, I consider how the supposedly Apollonian experience of graduate school has felt more Dionysian. I feel hyper-aware of my body. It is is caffeine-fueled and exhausted, nervous, sweating, hot, cold. My stomach is, in turns, in knots, convulsing, releasing. I look forward to moving more towards the sun.

The first week is finished now and I turn to processing the distressing amounts of material laid before me. I feel rushed in conversations with friends and loved ones calling to check on me. How can twenty minutes seem at once so long and so short a time? I do feel hopeful that I will settle into the pace and begin to feel more at ease with my abilities. Until then...

And Just Like That

2006-07-28T09:53:00.000-07:00

I'm gone. Poof. I've been disappeared from the realms of MySpace. I can only imagine that someone took offence to my demand for respect for the sexual prowess of one Ms. Xaviera Hollander. It's not like I'm 14 putting naked pictures of myself up so I can get a 30 yr old dude to come to my house. I put a lot of work into that damn page and now it's gone. I guess folks will just have to get ahold of me the old fashioned way.

I got the money!

2006-07-20T09:30:00.000-07:00

I got the mon-ey! I got the mon-ey!

So I'll be starting my PhD program in the fall! I can't wait and I'm sort of shocked! I've already found an apartment and I'll be moving in a few weeks.

Now, I've just got to write a syllabus...I'm a little rusty. This could take a while.

Rejection

2006-07-20T09:17:00.001-07:00

I thought I might make a little money and clean out my closet before the big move all in one go. I made some piles sorting into sell-ables and donation only, but it looks like not everything was as sell-able as I thought. Turns out that a missing hook was all it took to have a suede jacket (same style as worn by Phoebe in several episodes of Friends) to be rejected. There were other things as well, but I was completely baffled. The things they did take were certainly the ugliest and some of the oldest things, but the nicer things they passed on. And since they took 15 minutes to check out the clothes and things, I had time to take a look around the store and found some real horrors. One denim skirt obviously came with a good story. Since it was cut into fringe-like strips at the bottom and had a large brown spot on the ass, it seems clear that someone got themselves caught in a shredder and had a bit of an accident. *That* one they paid someone for. In any case, I feel like the rejection was some sort of personal attack on my fashion sense. What do you mean you won't give me a dollar for this shirt?! This is a great shirt! I guess I really shouldn't be offended. It was probably a mistake trying to take my clothes to a store I wouldn't buy anything from in the first place. But there is a strange sort of embarrassment that comes with having one's clothes rejected from a shop whose clothes are nowhere near as cool as your own...I guess the five dollars they paid me for my crap will come in handy at the bar I'll go to to sing and drink the resale blues away.

Don't Fish off the Company Pier

2006-07-20T09:17:00.000-07:00

Why won't I ever learn?!

Oh, Sweden!

2006-07-07T15:54:00.000-07:00

How better to enjoy our nation's birthday than a trip to those bringers of self-assembly paradise, my good friends at IKEA. We finally got a store near us, a mere 63 minutes away and I got to have my first look inside. Up until a few days ago, I'd only ever seen catalogs.

I didn't know it would be so confusing. It was absolutely overwhelming! Any place that actually hands out maps and includes monitors constantly playing video instructing consumers on how to shop clearly is.

So after 3-4 hours of shopping, and trying not to swept along in the constant forward-pushing river of people, my parents and I escaped realtively unmangled and managed to only spent about $70. Not bad, I say.

I think I might stick to the catalog from now on. Safer.

Tapering Off

2006-06-15T07:55:00.000-07:00

I'm running out of steam on this here blog, so I'm going to take some time off.

Until I have something to write about I say, "A plus, bichettes!"

CLJ

Word on the Street

2006-06-15T07:53:00.000-07:00

Word on the street is possible funding for Fall 2006 is looking good. This means I may be starting my PhD program at BGSU in 2 short months. Keep your fingers crossed!

Birthday Month

2006-06-05T11:17:00.000-07:00

In honor of my birthday month, I've written a little song. Here goes:

It's my birthday month! It's my birthday month! It's my birthday month!
Hey hey hey.
Birthday.

Instrumental accompaniment to follow.

Uncle Jailbird Joey

2006-05-30T17:28:00.000-07:00

I love Back to the Future. A lot. It's my favorite. I just never thought I'd have an Uncle Jailbird Joey in my family.

My brother's life continues it's downward spiral as he finds himself faced with jail-time yet again. I wish I could help, but there doesn't seem to be much I can do. It's not even 6 month intervals anymore. He's going down fast. Keep your fingers crossed he hits bottom and bounces back without ever killing anyone.

Cheese Sculpture

2006-05-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

Bored on a long road trip through Wisconsin? Try one of these exciting activities.

Getting high on sodium: There are smoked meats galore in WI. Brook and I found ourselves in insane laughing fits after consuming large amounts of meat and meat food porducts on a recent roadtrip. Drawback: we could feel our fingers swelling round bedtime.

Challenge your friend to a cheese sculpting event: Brook and faced off using a bag of cheese curds. We intently studied the curd and then worked using only our teeth and hands to set free the sculpture hiding within. Inspired by the land, I loosed a buffalo. Inspired by Whoopi Goldberg, Brook found the colby Starship Enterprise. We admired the beauty by displaying the cheese curds on the dash until they began to glisten and eventually sweat the orange grease that only pure artistry will sweat. Drawback: This should be researved only for the best knee-drivers. Brook often needed both hands to maneuver her curd which could have led to a distrarous situation.

Or heck! Combine the two and try creating meat artwork while high on sodium! Who knows what kind of crazy fun that could be!

Perils of I-Socializing

2006-04-22T20:50:00.000-07:00

I've had a MySpace page for about 6 months now and until a few months ago wasn't particularly crazy about it, but something within me snapped and I suddenly became obsessed with increasing my number of friends. I felt I had calmed down on this tip and even though I had become a collector of sorts, gathering MySpace info when I met new people, I felt I still had standards I adhered to during the collection process. If I wouldn't actually want to hang out with them in real life, I saw no point in adding the person to my list of friends.

But one slipped through the nets.

After the Meet and Greet at the Collingwood Art Center last night, where I had done a fair share of meeting, greeting, and collecting, I was pleased to find that someone had sought me out. She looked slightly different in her photos than I remembered her looking last night, but I figured I was quite drunk at the time I met her and that could account for the discrepancy. So, without a thought I added her to my list. Then, curious what her profile looked like seeing that she is a photographer, I popped on over for a peek. I was surprised to hear Top 20 pop music with a shockingly pink background baring the quote "I sell Mary Kay!" I remembered that girl was slightly surly and healthily snarky, so I thought perhaps this could all be part of an elaborate ruse. I read on. "I love to read books about aromatherapy, angels, healthy healing by linda page, and most important of them all THE BIBLE!!" Ouch. But I continued, growing more intrigued with her sense of humor. Thinking (maybe hoping is a better verb here) perhaps that she had concocted a totally fake page, I glanced at her friends to figure out who we knew in common, surely this would betray her true self. Not seeing any familiar faces and an impressive amount of chatch, I began to suspect something was amiss. Shortly after I read about how much she loves her husband Frank and saw the pictures of her posing with the Frat she haus-frau'ed, it finally occured to me the sad mistake I had made.

I was now forced to a decision I'd never before had to make in the world of I-Socializing: Whether to drop my new friend or keep her around and hope no one ever looked her up. When I saw that she had immediately left a comment I knew what kind of friend she would be. She would not be the type to hang idly by in my list, inactive and silent. She would there to leave pictures of bunnies and post bulletins about the newest Mary Kay line. The answer became clear. The girl had to go.

And so as I clicked the box next to her photo, deselecting her as a friend of mine, I reflected on our brief friendship and realized how similar to and different from bar socializing I-socializing can be. Sure, you start a convo in a bar or similar setting with someone who seems interesting. You realize halfway into the conversation that the person is a/an idiot, jerk, etc. In that space you can walk away and no one is ever the wiser about your brief flirtation with friendship. However, in MySpace, there is a lingering record where Jacqueline/Jacquie is concerned. Her sadly doomed overature of friendship comment lives on for all to see, or at least until I make the effort to delete that too. Who knows how long that could take.

Dumbass

2006-04-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

And broke because of it.

Let's just say this month hasn't been ideal working at the SB. We had no business, no tips, and I barely made enough money to pay my bills. Luckily, my dumbass scheduled two payments for my student loans and overdrew my account by a couple hundred dollars. Yippee. Sayonara to that sweet $30 cushion I was sitting on.

Sadly, it looks like I'll have to downgrade that wedding gift for the early May wedding I'm attending. Instead of potholders, looks like my smiling face will have to suffice. I am driving two states over, after all. Maybe I could give a handcrafted Macaroni pencilholder! I could pretend I bought it from Pier 1 for 25 bucks and that it was made by Guatemalan children for 2 cents an hour.

Anybody got ideas for cheap and ideally desirable gifts?

Something is marching in

2006-04-20T12:49:00.000-07:00

So as to not waste my day off and also neatly avoid writing my statement of purpose, I've spent about an hour teaching myself how to play the recorder. So far I've mastered Mary had a Little Lamb and am working towards When the Saints Come Marching In. All the while I'm dreaming about hoping a plane towards Reykajvik on the first leg of some Around-the-World ticket. I think it's the e-mail I got from a buddy in Dar-es-Salaam the other day combined with my boredom.

All this dreaming has gotten me thinking about places I've been before and things I've done. I'm sort of in the middle of this jarring juxtaposition between one of my loveliest memories (Sharing a few bottles of wine with some friends in a nearly bare and sundrenched apartment whose enormous windows opened onto the courtyard of a 500-year old church in Southern France) and currently sitting in my parents' darkened basement playing (quite poorly, I might add) a 20-year-old recorder I found.

I suppose I should get off my ass and do something more exciting. Luckily, I've got some plans coming up for this weekend. Woo art!

Nearly 13 months

2006-04-11T08:14:00.000-07:00

I quit smoking just over a year ago, and so far so good. I haven't had one since I quit and usually don't want to smoke (with the exception of late nights at the bar), until, that is, I start thinking about the romance of it. Listening to neuva bossa nova with a cocktail in a sundrenched minimalist room, or hanging out in a coffeeshop watching the world walk by always brings out the desire for tobacco. These images form the last attachment I have to smoking. Sure, in all other meaningful ways I've lived and accepted myself as a non-smoker. It's only in the moments of imagining myself in some European locale that I wish I could be a social smoker, picking up and dropping the habit with ease.

Is it a problem that in my idealized picture of myself, I'm always smoking? How can I alter that imagery to incorporate a non-smoking ideal self. How do I let go of the romance of tobacco? Any suggestions?

Maybe I could start remembering the way my lungs felt after an evening of cocktails and cigarettes...

Mmmm...the baby looks tasty!

2006-04-10T16:09:00.000-07:00

I am looking for a way to eat babies, but the threat of prison keeps stopping me! There's got to be a better way!

But wait, here's Marzipan Minis, the new baby-shaped snack!

Ok, actually the detail is pretty amazing and they're clearly not meant to be eaten...but still creepy.

A Show! A Show!

2006-04-07T13:50:00.000-07:00

Despite the news about my brother and his continuing drama, I decided I would *finally* check out a band I'd been waiting months to see, The Anti-Villians. What really sealed the deal for me was finding out that both that band and The Ahia, band of my former special naked friend, would be playing together. Since I knew for sure I would know at least one person, awkwardly at best, I would go, have a listen, drink some good beer, and maybe meet a person or two.

It was super! Turns out that an old buddy of mine has a boyfriend in the band too, so we caught up and had some fun times. And after that it was as if people from the past had flooded the bar. I was worried I wouldn't know anyone when it turned out that I actually knew about 8 or 9 people. I was also lucky enough to meet some very cool cats too! So rekindled friendships, great beer, good music, *and* finding new friends? That is the kind of night I've been waiting for!

My brother

2006-04-04T12:04:00.000-07:00

But now he's *back* in jail, and even though the faces may have changed, the hassles are just the same...

Thoughts on the 30 Days

2006-04-04T07:04:00.000-07:00

The final conclusion of my 30 days experiment: My original intent was to consider the possibility that in the case of boredom, it's not the place that's boring, it's the bored person that is. So I set out to do something new everyday and make some adventures of my own around here. In the end, I realized that the premise is crap. I've done all I can to have fun here. I've been to art openings, shows, plays, coffeehouses, museums, bars, restaurants and shops. I've chatted with folks, although I suppose I could do this more and I'm still bored, but this doesn't make me a boring person. I've done a lot more new things than most of the people I know in the last 2 months, but that doesn't make them boring. Busy? Yes. Reluctant to try new things? Potentially. But they aren't boring people. There are cool things to do in the this town, it's true. But cool people are much harder to find. In the end, the saying is a silly motivational tool to give someone hope that they can change their situations by changing themselves. The falseness of it lies in it's claim that by changing yourself you will find happiness in whatever surroundings you are in. But sometimes changing yourself means that you don't fit in your surroundings anymore and that you won't be happy there. And while I still believe that you can stay in a place and make the effort to help it change with you, I feel like I'm alone in this desire. If there are others hiding out in Toledo, I don't know where to find them or how to reach them. It only took me 4 months to lose interest, which is sad, but I just don't have the energy to keep looking anymore.

30 Days: The Last 5 Events

2006-04-04T06:11:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine mentioned the vaguely apocolyptic undertone of my countdown, but rest assured the end isn't coming neatly at the end of this 2-month-30-day countdown.

It must be said that I wished for the end around the middle of the 4th event, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

No. 5: The Wine-Tasting. I hosted a wine-tasting at the Scenic Rock Ledge Inn, a bed and breakfast in Port Clinton. It was mostly a family gathering with a few friends sprinkled in for a Wellness Weekend. I had spent a month preparing for my one hour of tasting, gathering wines, cheeses, making flyers, devising a gameplan, making notes, etc. And I was quite nervous beforehand although I wasn't admitting to myself how nervous I was. So, as everyone relaxed with massages, yoga, make-overs, and cocktails. I tried not to keel over from the seizing muscles in my lower back and hoped my voice wouldn't crack as I began my talk. Luckily it went well. Very well in fact, and that can be partially attributed to the conversation I had with Jim and Rachel about what wines the guests might prefer, sweet ones. So, I changed my game plan a bit and we tried a cabernet, a shiraz, a muscadet, chardonnay, and 4 dessert wines, instead of the 3-3-2 I had originally envisioned. It was a hit, the ladies came away a little tipsy, and a little more knowledgeable about wine.

No. 4: Sex Toys: Fun for the Whole Family? After the wine-tasting, I was beat down, a little tipsy myself, and ready for a nap or at least a little alone time. So I curled up in the bed, turned on the TV, and tried to quiet my aching muscles. My mom came to join me and we talked for a while before my aunt burst in and told us to get our asses into the living room for the last of the wellness weekend events, the sex-toy party. Yikes. Now, it wasn't the idea of sex toys that I found creepy, it was sitting in a room with my aunts and cousins talking about swelling creams and whatnot. My cousin Jim, who like all the other men, had been sent away for the day, came back early to check up on us and caught a glimpse of my Aunt Linda holding an enormous twirling purple vibrator. He didn't sleep so well that night. But, despite my fatigue, I stuck it out while we tasted lotions, smelled potions, and held jiggly plastic parts and as it began to die down I found a break and snuck off to bed.

No. 3: Being Stood Up on a Birthday. It wasn't my birthday or else I'd be livid, but I haven't ever been left out of the loop when someone asks me to come out on their birthday before. Mya asked me to get the day off work so I could have the crazy party times, but the day of not a word about what was happening. By the time I called her she was gone and I never did hear from her that night. Luckily, my other friends were unreachable so I ended up watching a PBS special about Jon, the man with Down Syndrome. Sometimes my social life is on fire!

No. 2: Coming to the realization that I hate my job. I didn't ever love it, but it was tolerated and at moments, even amusing, but after my third double shift making less than 100 dollars, I decided that it really isn't worth my time or my energy. I came home and woke up the next morning at 7 am to scour the want ads. To my dismay, I found nothing aside from welding jobs and teaching gigs for certified teachers.

No. 1: I've been delaying my Toledo sucks rant, because for a time I thought I might be able to enjoy it or find some cool people or make a space for cool stuff, but I haven't. I haven't met any new people after going out many times a week (at least not hanging out with type people), I haven't found anyone interested in making a new space or even meeting with me for coffee to brainstorm ideas), I have done cool things but always alone. This may be the direct result of No. 2 but I'm really lonely! I want a partner in crime! I want someone to do wacky things with! I miss all those people who would be interested in renting a helium tank to see how many balloons it takes to float a cat. They all live in Chicago or Minneapolis or Alexandria. I don't have any close friends at the moment since everyone is so busy. It's actually quite frustrating since I missed them so much in Taiwan and now I'm home, but we might as well be half a world apart from the amount of time I see them. So, I'm now looking for the first opportunity to get out of Toledo. A trip, a job, anything will do. I tried my best to make a go of it here, but it doesn't seem to be working and I don't really feel like there's a place for me here anymore. So, in search of greener pastures it is.

30 Days: Day 25

2006-03-21T18:08:00.000-08:00

Karaoke Contest! It happened a few short days after seeing the movie Duets again that a friend mentioned that some tiny bar somewhere had a karaoke contest with a grand prize of $300. Mya, my new karaoke buddy, decided she could use a little extra cash, so Tom and I piled in the car and met her there for some fun.

We rolled up to a house turned bar set in the middle of the country, but that still had a few neighbors. I mentioned that the bar looked frighteningly similar to the bar in The Accused, a film Tom hadn't seen. So as we sat in the car, opening the doors to go in, I described Jodie Foster's rape scene and it was just then that someone's chained up pitbull started barking and we both nearly peed our pants. We then decided it would be best to go inside before the dog broke loose to knaw on our faces.

So, the gay white guy, his mulatto buddy, and their fat black girlfriend join up at the smallest possible bar where everyone already seems to know each other. I was expecting a screeching record noise when we walked in, but we managed to not be chased out by flaming torches. They had pretty good beer for really good prices, although they must not have sold much since the bartender had no idea what a Modelo was, and in fact thought I was cursing at her. So, content with our bucket of 10 7oz Miller Lights we grabbed a book, signed up for the contest, and eventually formed the bulk of it's contestants.

In the end, Mya took the ladies (she was *awesome*) prize and entry into the next level of competition, by a slim one vote even though she sang the pants of everyone else and Tom was denied completely in favor of some dude that obviously frequented the bar more often and didn't sing songs by suspicious sexual deviants like George Michael.

Keep your fingers crossed for the finals this weekend!

30 Days: Day 24

2006-03-21T17:53:00.000-08:00

Happy Day of Green Beer and Merry-making! It was my first celebration of St. Patrick's Day. I'd either been too busy, working, or in some non Irish-loving country over the holiday in the past, so I've never really gotten to take part in all the festivities. This year, I gave up my Friday morning shift at the SB, hydrated myself to the best of my abilities and rolled up my sleeves for what I was sure would be a great time. Turns out it sucked. Much like New Year's Eve, it wasn't worth all the hype. We ended up in the same old bar, drinking just like we always do, heavily, only this time the beer was slightly darker and there was cabbage involved.

I did make over to McDo to sample the Shamrock shake I'd always heard so much about though. Turns out they stopped making them years ago, and now just change the name of the Strawberry shake to the Strawberry Shamrock and call it a day. I was slightly miffed at my perceived injustice. Damn lack of Mint green milkshakes!

In the end, it really just felt like work. My friends were committed to the one bar as several folks we knew drifted in and out. At one point in the merry-making I wanted to frolic in the park. This was not met with enthusiasm. Apparently moving from the table would both lose us the sitting room *and* involve enjoying the sunshine and fresh air (which sounded heavenly to me after sitting in the smoke, eating heavy foods, and drinking entire loaves of bread for 4 hours). Instead another round of shots came, more food, and an increasing malaise creeped up on me. I'd been so excited, but in the end, it was just another day. Only this time the guys at the bar all wore sweatshirts as they had rolled directly from bed into their cars and the chicks all wore their same bar clothes only at 11:30 am.

And I forgot to drink a green beer before I went home with no voice and feeling half dead at 6:30pm.

New Trend or 30 Days: Day 23

2006-03-16T19:37:00.000-08:00

I had another day of eyeball scratching cabin fever. I did have a car this morning and before that cabin fever had set in I went to the fabric store on a mission. I'm going teach myself how to knit. So, I found an instruction manual and a ball of deep red yarn and set to learnin'.

The crazy part was later in the day I got that itch again. The climbing the walls feeling that keeps getting more intense and strikes when I conveniently have no vehicle. It's to the point where I'm looking to do something dangerous. Play times with a stranger, calling a friend I know will get me into trouble, or anything that I would generally consider not such a great idea was becoming more appealing with each passing minute. As a result I wrote/made several potentially embarrassing e-mails/phone calls but in the end, I ended up no place near what I was looking for (which I suppose could be a good thing). I later found myself turning up to the Village Player's Theatre to watch a play in 3 acts with a happy ending, surrounded by season-ticket-holding patrons with an average age of 62.

It wasn't a bad play and it was nice to get out of the house, but again there's the appearance of the Bettie/Betty double-headed beast. One has all the intentions and the other does all the action. So Bettie wanted to *get some* play, but Betty ended up *watching* a play. Here's to hoping it's a pattern put behind me.

Dichotomy

2006-03-15T13:59:00.000-08:00

I've been sick for the last few days. I came home from work early on Monday and slept, called off Tuesday and slept, and finally I'm starting to feel human again. It may be that the combined effect of Benedryl leaving my system and the clearing of phlegm has given me a sense of renewed energy, but suddenly I feel ready to take on the world. I have no car though today so it's a third day of in-house lockdown. I'm going a little crazy and I have the urge to out on the town and wreak some havoc, but instead I decided to bake some cinnamon rolls. It's like I want to express my inner Bettie Page, but out popped Betty Crocker. I guess it's just nervous energy that all comes from the same place. I mean, those rolls sure did take 3 hours to make given the dough-making, rolling, raising, baking, and icing time so it's certainly nothing to sneeze at.

Now if only I could round up some fellow trouble makers and get to being crazy.

30 Days: Day 22

2006-03-13T16:07:00.000-08:00

On my way home from the SB, I found myself taking some back roads in an effort to avoid the sudden occurance of construction that marks the arrival of spring. As I stopped at the tracks for the train, I noticed that it wasn't moving and in fact the engineer was waving me forward. I cautiously drove around the gates and directly in front of the train and even though it was stopped, it still made me pretty nervous. I never did find out why it wasn't moving.

CatchinUp

2006-03-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

I've been MIA, both to you and to myself for the last few days. I'm not sure what I've been up to, but it feels like I've spent a sick amount of time at the SB. A majority of the other SB'ers went on Spring Break leaving us folks not fortunate enough to afford a getaway to mind the ribs. I'm pretty sure I've got BBQ sauce coming out of my pores...It's actually quite disgusting to towel off after a shower what with all the oozing.

But on with the final entries in my 30 days!

Happy Birthday Mike

2006-03-01T18:37:00.000-08:00

I apparently can't post to your blog, but I can to mine, so Happy Birthday!

30 Days: Day 21

2006-02-26T16:34:00.000-08:00

We're in the homestretch here now and I'm not sure if I cheated or not, but I went to Detroit for some adventures there. I never really set any hard and fast rules about what I could and couldn't do, but I have tried to stay close to home for these forays into the world. That may have had more to do with my schedule than anything else, however.

While visiting Mike and Ramie, I saw the only bar in the United States to host the Belgian sport of Feather Bowling*. That's right, we hung out at the Cadieux Cafe for some exotic beers and a quick meal before taking in a little karaoke.

And it turns out that Ramie and Mike had a little first-timing of their own to do last night as each one of them got up to sing a song by themselves! It was so much fun to watch them get nervous and then have lots of fun.

*Apparently there is another bar in Michigan that has "Belgian Trough Bowling" so I'll have to ammend an earlier statement. One of two bars in the United States... But I guess the Cadieux Cafe will stick out for me either way as the first bar I've ever been to where the backroom has a dirt floor.

30 Days: Day 20

2006-02-26T16:31:00.000-08:00

I tried Garlic Soup!

It was pretty basic, just chicken broth and the most garlic one could fit in a soup while still calling it soup, but it was pretty good. I was unsure of my breath for the next few days and I'm pretty sure I may even now be sweating garlic essence, but hell it was fun to try something new.

How Quickly We Forget

2006-02-24T06:53:00.000-08:00

I'm writhing with jealousy. Ryan is tripping the light fantastic in Ireland, Molly is missing dripping bloody steaks in the Ukraine, Jen is off to Thailand for Chinese New Year, Jay is howling at the full moon in Tanzania, and I'm off to another day at the SB, where I can watch while folks trade gossip about married life, babies, and how wasted they all got last night at the cowboy bar. I was hoping to drum up some adventure here at home, but it's not working so far. I just want to feel that feeling. The feeling of being so light you could burst and you couldn't hold back the smile if you tried. It's what makes me feel alive. Travelling doesn't always give me that feeling, but adventures do. I guess I'm just ready for a big one.

I think I might also feel better if I cracked some theory again. It's been a long time since I've read any non-fiction.

30 Days: Day 19

2006-02-18T07:46:00.000-08:00

It was cold yesterday morning. It warmed up eventually, but since it was one of the rare Toledo late-winter days when the sun is shining and the sky is blue, I decided that it was finally time to take advantage of all that winter gear I'd stocked up on in Montreal and get myself outside.

So with the MP3 player and my favorite tunes, I walked to the park I'd been eyeballing for a few weeks. At first, I thought I just might walk a few blocks, get too cold and turn around, but about halfway I decided I felt good enough to go so I kept walking and enjoying the sun. I hadn't been to this park since I was ten, riding my bike into a whole different city just to go to a different park with far superior swings to the park at the end of the street. It's only about a twenty minute walk to the park, but I met a chatty man walking his dog, saw a jogger, and said hello to two other women out for a late morning stroll. Maybe it was the endorphins kicking in around 30 minutes or so, but suddenly the sun on my face, warm feeling in my legs, chill but happy music in my ears, and talking to strangers seemed to me to be the best possible moment. I had to stop myself from singing and skipping home, but as I neared the house my energy waned a little and I looked forward to a big glass of warm water.

It was a great little walk.

30 Days: Day 18

2006-02-18T07:32:00.000-08:00

Wednesday was shaping up to be a quiet night around the house. I cozied up in front of the TV, awaiting a new episode of my favorite show, Veronica Mars, only to be highly ranckled by the repeat eppy. I mean, I sure did just wait 7 weeks to get three new shows? And I'll be waiting another three weeks to get the rest of the season's worth. Apparently dooming this show to failure is something the network (doomed itself) is interested in.

But freed from the shackles of Wednesday night television, I joined a few friends down at the South End Grille for some karaoke times. I wasn't sure whether I'd sing or not, but as night wore on and the cheap beer tasted sweeter, I put my name down for a song I'd never sung before. I decided that since everyone else was singing the angsty early-mid nineties alt-rock, I'd get my two cents in with some screaming girl music from the same era. Alas, my performance wasn't as well received as one would have hoped as most people looked on in something akin to horror/repulsion. I guess my audience just wasn't into angry chick rock even if a cute face was attached. After hearing Stone Temple Pilots and early Mariah Carey performed back to back and receiving roaring applause each time, I decided that the audience was clearly schizophrenic and had no idea what they wanted anyway. Or maybe just drunk. Anyway, it was really fun and I was pleased as punch with the adventure.

30 Days: Day 17

2006-02-15T14:20:00.000-08:00

Ah. Another bad choice. A rush of blood to the head after the poetry reading sent me skittering off into the night in search of companionship. I ended up at a bar a friend of mine works in, hoping he'd be working. It turns out I'd missed him by an hour, but that is probably for the best. Instead, I sat quietly at the bar drinking pints and reading the City Paper until my empty belly absorbed enough booze to randomly start chatting to equally quiet bartender. You know a bar is slow when the bartender and two patrons are all reading. There wasn't even any music. When I felt I'd sufficiently socialized, I got back in the car and found myself driving towards one of the seedier bars near my house, again looking for a friend of mine. This time, he was there and for a brief moment, I felt transparent as if he could tell the only reason I'd come to the bar was to see him. Transparent or no, he smiled when he saw me and we settled in for a night of excessive drinking, crossword puzzles, and chatting.

In the end, the decision didn't turn out so badly, although the hangover the next day was killer. But even the hangover was somehow sweeter with Walker's words in my head. I didn't just go home and turn on the TV, I went and had an adventure.

30 Days: Day 16

2006-02-15T14:09:00.000-08:00

The Essential Big Red: Selected Poems by Lynne Walker seemed like an intriguing way to spend a Monday evening, so I headed to the Main library for a reading.

I walked into the conference hall not knowing what to expect. How many people would be interested in poetry on a Monday night? Would it be interesting? Boring? Cool? Lame? Anyway, as it got started, I realized that most of these people, about 12 of them, knew each other, and quite a few were connected to the University of Toledo, either as students or profs, and even though they knew each other they managed to create an open, inviting atmosphere for newcomers. This was definitely a different feel than stumbling into a bar where everyone knows each other and marks you immediately as an interloper. There wasn't as much staring involved.

The poetry was fantastic! It was sexy, funny, lively, touching, and it may have been the full moon, the hormones, or the Pre-Valentine's Day angst, but it made me tear up several times. It wasn't love poetry in a traditional sense, but it was love of life poetry and it made me both want to live more and enjoy the living I've done. Who knew a poem about a hangover could be so touching? It wasn't anything I expected, and turned out to be a great way to spend the night.

30 Days: Day 15

2006-02-13T13:27:00.000-08:00

Hey, I've made it to the halfway mark! Who knew?

Today's adventure (well not really today's but sometime in the last three days, I think I've mixed them up) was a trip to La Perla Tortilla Factory. I'd seen the sign for years, and was always curious what was behind those "Open to Public" doors.

Apparently, all the Mexican products one might need: Pinatas, Mexican candies and pastries, spices, dried peppers, of course tortillas, but also Mexican sodas and other fizzy drinks, canned goods, small gifts, and lots of Spanish-language magazines.

I'd say it was a pretty sweet find and I enjoyed watching my co-workers faces when I explained where I'd gone that day. "The tortilla factory? Why?" or "There's a torilla factory?" Apparently doing stuff out of curiousity isn't something they are into at the SB.

30 Days: Day 14

2006-02-13T13:17:00.000-08:00

Jessica and I had a beer at the Bunker. We'd heard that a new bar had the same feel as an old favorite of ours, Lenny's, which had since become well-lit and fashionable among the college jocks. There must have been some miscommunication however, because it was almost the same as Lenny's in it's new incarnation. Only bigger, even more well lit, and filled with more 'dressed-up' men in button-down plaid shirts tucked into their khakis. A bust.

So we downed our beers and headed out in the snow to find a new place for the evening. Unfortunately, things went south from there when Jessica revealed that she was hung over from the night before and didn't really want to go to another bar. I was antsy, filled with hormones (I don't usually use this excuse, but I was *bad* this weekend--the rocked me hard this month!), and generally angsty. This didn't make for a good combination, so when the anti-lock brakes engaged 3 times driving in the tiny amount of snow, we decided that we'd had enough and I dropped her off.

Lesson learned: Ignore instincts to drink beer and whinge while experiencing dramatic mood swings every 30 minutes. And if you can't ignore this instinct, do it in the privacy of your own home, protecting your friends from the barrage of ranting you would inevitably spill upon them.

30 Days: Day 13

2006-02-13T13:14:00.000-08:00

It was a cat show.

It seems intuitive, but I just had no idea that a cat show would be so smelly. I guess 300 litter boxes in one room, no matter how clean are going to make a bit of a stink.

And even though I'd only heard of it through word of mouth, it must be pretty popular on the cat show circuit, because there were cars in the lot from Illinois, Michigan, Arizona, and other states all with cat licence plates, bumper stickers, stuffed animals, and whatnot.

It was definitely a first, although not as exciting as Best in Show had led me to believe.

30 Days: Day 12

2006-02-08T16:39:00.000-08:00

A free caricature.

Ok, so I didn't draw it and I didn't learn any new skills, but this project isn't really about that. It's about new experiences and I had one.

Waiting tables can be boring, fun, or stressful depending on the situation. Secret shoppers can make a situation stressful, especially if you know that one comes to your restaurant every day. So when I saw a man secretly writing and putting down his pen whenever I walked up to the table, looking at me as if to judge me, and asking lots of questions, my brain went right to secret shopper. But then after presented with a flattering (I didn't know they did those) caricature of my likeness, I was pleasantly surprised, and a whole lot less self-conscious.

I was happy, until it turned out that the picture and a one dollar bill was my tip. Umm...I'd rather have more cash.

30 Days: Day 11

2006-02-07T17:04:00.000-08:00

Due to conflicting schedules, I was left carless this morning and in need of a ride to work. Luckily, my Aunt Linda lives around the corner and is semi-retired, so she was nice enough to swing by and give me a ride to work.

Now, I'm not exactly the most talkative person around my extended family. This may strike those of you who know me as odd, but I very often feel like I have nothing good to say, so I just stay quiet. This probably seemed to them like something I would have grown out of in my teeenage years, but nearing the end of my 20's, it has become obvious that I'm a little kooky and can be quite quiet at times. They must wonder though, how I survive in jobs so social as kindergarten teaching and serving, since it can be so hard for me to have a simple conversation about vegetable dip until I've had a couple beers.

But today presented a unique opportunity. I would be alone in the car for 20 minutes at least with my aunt. What would we talk about? It was time to put my social skills to the test and make simple conversation with a family member. It wasn't the first time I'd spoken with her obviously, but the first time I can remember being with her alone for a good minute without anything to distract us, like vegetable dip, or beer. So, I tried my best to keep any conversation at all going...and failed miserably. Well, maybe not that miserably. We did finally find a topic of conversation we could latch onto when we began to discuss the difficulties of getting a good haircut. Sadly, just as it was getting rolling she dropped me off at work.

So in the end it only took 18 minutes to get a good conversation started, with only 1-2 minutes lost in uncomfortable silences, and I'm gonna say that is progress made! Now, I can try to shave some time off that and before you know it, I'll be chatting for days!

30 Days: Day 10

2006-02-07T16:53:00.000-08:00

My hair is purple! My new thing last night was having my hair cut and colored by a woman I work with. She was a hairdresser in a former life and we'd spent many a boringly slow lunch hour discussing the ins and outs of cutting curly hair. Some of you may not know that curly hair should be cut while dry. The sad part is is that most hairdressers I've encountered don't know this either! Also, testing the bounce of the curl is very important, lest one's hair come out a *great* deal shorter than anticipated. And all that talking was worth it, because for the first time in a long time, I'm happy with my haircut. It wasn't cut too short, it has a great shape, and the colored glaze she applied has turned my hair the coolest color of dark eggplant I've ever seen! It's all comic book badass girl hair color that looks dark, but glows purple-y around the edges in the light. Plus, it's super shiny and that makes me happy. Well done!

Hiatus

2006-02-07T16:48:00.000-08:00

I took a little break from my experiment. No good reason, other than I've been too tired to make it out after work to do anything all that exciting and I've had a bit of a time trying to figure out what to do. But, let this not stop me from continuing the project. We'll just pretend it's still Day 10 and I'll keep on from there. Besides I've got some fun new things lined up here...there's the trip to the local torilla factory, um...the possible creation of the SB Karaoke Squad, and other exciting things. Basically, I just need to get more creative with my activities. For example, I've never labelled a cooler "Human Head" and gotten into an elevator to gauge people's reactions. That sounds like a fun Thursday To Do.

A Fun Idea

2006-02-03T11:37:00.000-08:00

A local gas station has been advertising their coffee lately with a remarkably widespread campaign of flyers, billboards, ads in print and on TV. Apparently "Bean There, Dunked That" is supposed to entice me to drink their coffee, even though the slogan would seem to suggest it is run of the mill and not really worth trying. But, since they would like some of those sweet coffeehouse customers, I would like to give them some.

I want to find some folding chairs and a table, a table cloth, and a few friends, or possibly alone, (that actually might even be better...) go to the gas station, buy a cup of joe and then set up shop outside, soaking in the gas fumes and enjoying my faux latte leisurely. Maybe even bring a paper...

The attendant would eventually come outside to see what I was up to, stare dumbfounded for a while and I would look up, somewhat surprised someone is interrupting and say "What?" Perhaps he would have to call a supervisor...it just gets more and more fun to think about.

30 Days: Day 9

2006-02-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a bad day. We're all entitled to the occasional craptastic day, I suppose and I got mine yesterday.

Nothing specifically bad happened in the morning aside from the increasingly routine "fight for naptime" I have with myself around 11am-1pm. I wake up early to take Dad to work and then try to relax enough to go back to sleep. This doesn't happen very well as I inevitably find myself right on the verge, jolting back to consciousness, and then trying to relax back into sleep mode. After a frustrating amount of time, I got up, did my laundry for work, finding my pants BBQ-sauce stained, and in need of a second washing, and took off an hour before work to pick up Dad and deliver him to another teaching gig. It's pretty routine, and I'm okay with it because it's temporary. I get a car, problem solved. Only this involves money...

Money I didn't make last night at the SB. 20 minute ticket times, cheap customers, and the most consistently bad tips of my life. Then, while trying to help out other servers, my manager reams me out. My crime? I happenned to know all the details in a situation involving some nachos. It involved neither my tables, my food running, or anything else other than my knowledge of said problem. I was yelled at for something I didn't even do! It was uncalled for. When I mentioned this, I was met with a cold stare. What I thought was even better, was this was my first night *not* screwing up some thing. Usually I make some little mistake like ringing up a drink under the wrong guest number, but last night things were running smoothly for me. So, I was understandably perturbed when she gathered all the servers to ream us all out together for 30 minutes in the back.

So much frustration later, I crawled exhausted and pissed into my car at 11pm. So, yesterday's new activity? Being yelled at by a manager for something I had no part in. It sure was fun! And sadly, extreme exhaustion has led me to no car today (I just couldn't drag my ass out of bed at 7:30 to drive Dad to work) so, it will take some brain storming for new things to do around the house.

Love Story

2006-02-02T10:32:00.000-08:00

So I placed a personal ad of sorts. It was more completing a compatibility profile, and checking out my matches, but not paying any money to actually talk to them. It turns out, out of the 8 Million members of this website, I'm matched with 5 men. One lives in Puerto Rico, one in Indianapolis, one in Blacklick, Ohio(what?), and two in Columbus. There are all Indian, save White guy Kelly, and the most we have in common by viewing our profiles is that they feel they can't live without food. Yeah, neither can anybody else. Wow, and people actually pay for this?!

I didn't limit myself to age, weight, race, or location, so it's not like I could expand the parameters of my search. But others must have some serious limitations because I got 5 matches! Out of 8 million people! And this is reportedly the most popular of online dating services. I guess I can feel better that I never date, apparently there is only like 0.00000000625% of the population that would even be attracted to me based on personality. Ouch. But, luckily, I didn't pay to find this out, and I have my stunning good looks to fall back on. Maybe someday someone will be attracted to me based on my rack. :)

Well, it was definitely something new, and now I can rest assured that the bar is as good a place to meet people as is the internet, more so if you count the possiblity of actual physical contact!

30 Days: Day 8

2006-02-02T10:22:00.000-08:00

While driving around trying to think of new adventures to have on a small scale (which is getting really hard after only 7 days! Suggestions?), I stopped into RamaLama Records to pick up some new tunes. This is something brand new for me, consulting the music geek and buying one of his reccomendations.

First up, Detrola, His Name is Alive. He pops it in the CD changer and so far so cross between Air and Carole King. I dig it. Next up, I ask about Rabbit Fur Coat, the new Jenny Lewis solo album, hoping to break the rules by buying a CD by someone I know and love. He hadn't heard it yet though, so after all, I wasn't allowed to cheat. His final reccomendation was the Imogene Heap solo album, "the female axis of Frou Frou," which I love and, alas, already know.

In the end, I bought the Detrola album and I'm quite happy with it. And, true to the music geek's word, it's all over the place so that each song has a completely different feel. Obviously there's notes of Air and Carole King, hints of classic country, some big orchestra numbers, and chicks singing la la la. Yes. Dig, baby.

30 Days: Day 7

2006-01-31T20:06:00.000-08:00

Looking back over past entries, I've noted how often I spend time by myself, and while I greatly enjoy my own company, sometimes I get lonely. In light of this, I decided I could use a partner in crime, so why not try to find one?

This led to new activity for Day 7: write a personal ad. Why the hell not? And if I meet a bunch of yahoos, then at least I'll have some good stories.

I'll keep you posted on the results.

30 days: Day 6

2006-01-30T18:28:00.000-08:00

I tried my hand at bread-baking today. I went for the basic recipe, no bells or whistles. It seems to have turned out pretty well, with no obvious deformities or abnormalities. Next time I think I'll try something flashy like Chevre-Cracked Pepper.

No significant, life-altering discoveries were made while baking bread.

Reflections on Style

2006-01-30T12:25:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last few months trying on different personas. I've hit a space where nothing is being planned or has been set into motion, and I'm trying to enjoy the freedom of it all. With that, it looks like grad school will have to wait a while, since I'm too busy enjoying this moment. What to do with the time? I figured a little self-re-invention is in order and thus the 30 day experiment was born. And since I'm doing some work on the inside, I figured I'd do some to outside as well.

This has manifested most notably in more adventurous fashion choices. Legwarmers, vintage handbags, ties, and large jewelry have been my accessories of choice lately. But, while the combinations are new, these choices themselves aren't challenging. I feel great when I wear them, but I don't feel like I'm testing myself by wearing them. For example, I thought I'd try something a little more professional-looking without losing the funkiness of my usual style. This is actually much trickier than what I normally choose to wear, both in design and in accompanying mental shift.

Yes, it's true what thousands of black women and gay men have said before me, "Girl, you have to own that outfit!" The ability to "own it" always starts in your head, and what occured to me is that I feel like a fraud when I'm dressed up to go to the office. In the same way that women often say, "I wish I could wear (insert style here) clothes, but I just can't carry it off." There's nothing really stopping them from wearing it, other than the feeling of costume that accompanies it. So, I guess my task is, since I value flexibility in myself and in others, is find a way to make that style my own; to put together some outfits I could conceivably wear to interviews without feeling like I'm sacrificing anything. After all, I enjoy marking my difference. As a biracial woman it's plenty visible without it, but it makes me feel more comfortable, as if I'm working with my otheredness instead of fighting it. So, to that end, I'm stretching myself by trying different styles of clothing, and although it's not one clear cut thing to itemize on my list, it is a part of the project.

Wish me luck...and digital camera to record the results. ;)

30 Days: Day 5.1

2006-01-30T12:17:00.000-08:00

Hours later...I found something new! A few folks grabbed some drinks after work and congratulations to me, I've found new drinking buddies.

After a night of 20+ minute ticket times, we headed to Rocky's (sweet, uncomplicated Rocky's) wearing the plumage of the SB serving crew. We traded gossip, opinions, and generally bitched about working for the SB, and although rather uneventful (except for the discovery of the world's strongest drink that had even the bartender, who's known for a strong pour, commenting on the insanity of the cocktail), it was a nice end to a crazy weekend.

Viva las coworkers!

30 Days: Day 5

2006-01-29T08:24:00.000-08:00

Sunday...what to do on Sunday? All the art galleries are closed and I work this afternoon. Maybe a new coffeeshop? There are only so many and I've already been to all of them. And I need something free...

Well, it's early and I'm still looking, but until then...I present one of the funniest websites I've ever seen, and spotted for the first time today (so technically a new thing. Hey! I said I'm still looking.):

Black People Love Us. com

Because two white folks are proud of not being racist. Enjoy.

30 Days: Day 4

2006-01-29T08:10:00.000-08:00

It's a small new thing, but one I'd like to repeat this time. I broke my first $100 night at the SB! Yes, that's right kids, P.M.A. (Positive Mental Attitude) helped me make slightly more money than normal. But, if I can somehow manage to keep it up, I'll have an income I can live on...yippee! Keep your fingers crossed.

30 Days: Day Two-Day Three

2006-01-28T05:30:00.000-08:00

Well, well, well. I'm at a crossroads. Sometimes you have to decide what you will and will not divulge in your blog. But, if I'm going to write about this 30 day adventure, then I'd better tell all.

Day Two was chock full of new things and lots of old ones too. I started the morning at a local coffeehouse for a cup of joe and a muffin. I've been going there in the mornings before work, and I have say it's a great way to start the day. It helps me relax and feel like my entire life isn't just work and home. Plus, there's the caffeine.

Much later Tom stopped by to pick me up for our day of adventure. We'd decided to park at his house and then walk to the art museum. Then maybe wander down to a coffeeshop and hang out. We thought we might even make it to Mutz for $5 pitcher night. It was a good plan and a different one. Anyone who knows Toledo knows that public transport sucks and almost everyone has a car, so walking? Downtown? Crazy. But it was great because it was a terrific day, not too cold, blue skies and we noticed so many new things. The art relief of stylized grecian women pouring out urns was my favorite. It's amazing the buildings with cool architectural details here, but no one around to use them. Tom's favorite was Joe Computer, which may also have been the creepiest mannequin ever to grace this fair earth. It was part of an old display for a Old Newboys Assoc and apparently had been there for about 20 years. Those faded pink pants had been red at one time and I'm pretty the sure the Cosby sweater she was wearing was fashionable at that same time. Her jaw had fallen off (or been sawed off...the edges *were* rather clean...) and then bolted back into place. A lot. She was wearing a badge of merit with a ribbon: Joe Computer. Definitely a winner.

But neither of these things is the highlight of the evening nor the adventure of Day Three. For that we must fast forward past Easy Street where we had our first cocktails in lieu of coffee, past $5 pitcher night at Mutz, past me drunkenly hitting on old friends who look mysteriously like old boyfriends (And that opened yet another can of worms...did I date that guy because he looked like a friend I'd had a crush on? Is it a Russ/Ross scenario?), past even the last minute, close-the-bar run to Ripcord, where I was fed shots despite my keen desire to go home. One would stop that tape right on the drive home. As I leaned out the car to vomit everywhere, who should show up but the cops. Arresting my friend Matt for driving under the influence, and allowing me a nice brisk walk home at 3am. I was right around the corner from my house, and I'd rather have that then the flashing lights of the cops dropping me off.

So all in all, I can say that the walking downtown was a great adventure for Day Two, but as night rolled into the next morning, Day Three had taken a turn. Being pulled over and talking to a cop while wiping vomit from my face was another first. Let's hope that's also the last. Here's to the adventure of Day Four...

30 Days of Change: Day One

2006-01-28T05:00:00.000-08:00

I've been pretty bored lately and I've pondered the idea that a place isn't boring, the bored person is. I'm not sure if I agree with that, but I figured there are some things I could do while I'm in Toledo that might make my life more interesting. So I decided that I would do one new thing everyday for 30 days and see what happens. Now, since I'm still financially strapped, most of these things should be free/cheap, but luckily I've got my buddy the City Paper to help me find those events. Day one was Wednesday, so I got my hot little hands on a copy of this week's edition and devised a plan...

Day One: I had to work in the morning, but I had the evening free and the next morning off, so I had lots of options (including beer!). Most of my friends have different schedules than I do, so I'm by myself on most days off. This is an integral part of enjoying myself and my time more here. There have been more than a few times that I couldn't find anyone to go out with, so I stayed at home. This usually happens at night, because until recently I'd never been to a bar by myself, with no one coming to meet me. Anyway, it's one of the things I'm out to correct. So I've been running around town by myself more, enjoying my time alone more...usually. But this first mission was a good mission.

I found myself at the Barnes & Noble seeing Ashton Allen play in the music section. I chose this because it was a twofer. I'd never seen Ashton, nor had I ever seen anyone play in corporateville. Now, some seem to think this doesn't sound weird. And I will grant them that it was cool and I would go again for another free show, but it must also be said that listening to this guy sing John-Mayer-esque songs of love and heartbreak was a little weird under the all-too-bright glow of flourescent bulbs, with his guitar, mic stand, and piano tucked neatly between the hip-hop and classical sections. But it was especially weird when the store's manager got on the horn saying "Attention Barnes & Noble shoppers. We'd like to direct your attention..."

One interesting thing I learned about live music and small shows, is that if the music is intensely personal (and it almost always is, I mean, even Wally Pleasant sings some love songs) I can't look at the singer's face. I had a hard time making eye contact that's for sure. It just felt rude, like I was crawling into a private moment to take a look around. There were only 20-25 people sitting/standing there, and the lights were so bright, it was very intimate although shockingly lit. And perhaps more so because of the lighting. Everyone could see what was happening on everyone else's face.

Anyway, the music was damn good, even though that tour is potentially killing the man. He was losing his voice to a cold that day, it was his second show of the day, his 39th of the tour, and they'd been on tour since like the 8th or 9th. Dude. But, if that's the quality of free show I'm gonna get at the B&N, well corporateville be damned, I'll be back...but maybe I'll special order my copy of the music from Culture Clash Records.

All and all a good first run. If you have any ideas about free/cheap events let me know.

Writer's Block

2006-01-17T17:27:00.000-08:00

It's horrible. I've got nothing to say. I'm blocked.

Otherwise, the new job at SB continues. Is it a bad sign that you dream you've been fired, then wake up singing show tunes only to have the happiest day you can recall in recent times?

Think need to leave the SB.

Delinquency: It's a New Year

2006-01-05T17:53:00.000-08:00

Sorry for being delinquent folks. I've been readjusting to life at home and trying like hell to beat the damn writer's block I've got going. So far no luck and the clock is ticking (already missed a boatload of grad school application deadlines)...It's keeping me up nights.

My New Job, the Cult

2006-01-05T17:36:00.000-08:00

Being back in town means I'm dead broke and therefore need a job, and how. I managed to score a serving gig at restaurant in town serving massive plates of pork and all things fatty. There are a few problems with all this.

1) I vowed never to serve again if humanly possible. Ah, how easily we sell our souls for the greenback morsel that keeps bill collectors from scratching down the door to tear out our hearts for a snack (I haven't really adjusted to this whole corporate restaurant thing yet or the dead ass broke part either I guess...)

2) There's chanting. Oh yes, I've got their vision memorized and I can feel myself cringe whenever we're forced to scream it. I guess it's better than my last corporate serving gig. I mean, there's no dancing or singing this time.

3) The Orange People. Many unnaturally tanned women and men who hold daytime gigs at American Eagle. They're *serveriffic* in a believable way.

4) And I quote: "I can't spell...maybe I shoulda finished high school." Yeah, I'm an elitist.

5) I am currently training with a woman I taught in BG. Yes, my former student and I are now co-workers. This is a shame.

But despite all this there is a bright side. After all, I did get four free t-shirts and my very first paycheck for $16.40! Rock on.

Xmas in T-Town

2006-01-05T17:22:00.000-08:00

Jeff came to visit his family for a whole week so we needed an obligatory day of "sight-seeing," which slowly devolved into a whirlwind tour of coffeehouses, restaurants, and plenty of bars. We were in search of a very elusive creature here in Toledo, OH: The LateTwentysomething. We hunted across town from North Toledo to Westgate, from Downtown to Maumee, finally settling near the Old West End. Nobody seemed to be anywhere. They were all spread out among the various bars in the area, never congregating in one place. Apparently the restaurants were feeling it too, the lack of the LateTwentysomething, when Jeff overhead a manager proclaim to a server, "Why can't we get more people like those?" Seeing as there were only 5 other people in the restaurant and not a one of them was in our dining area, you'd think he might just settle for the "more people" part all on it's own.

Just when we were getting ready to call it quits and take our show on the road to Ann Arbor, we found a pocket of this mysterious creatures at a new bar. Not only had we stumbled onto a party, but we had run smack into the center of an old friend's party, a friend we hadn't seen since the last days of college. It was revitalizing to know that somewhere in the sprawling metropolis that is Toledo, there still beats the nightlife of the single LateTwentysomething. Now if I could just track its next move...

Safe and Sound

2005-12-11T12:27:00.000-08:00

My parents are officially insane, and, as much as they may claim that they are "too old" for some things, they apparently aren't too old to drive all night long from Toledo to Montreal, help me move when they get there, then nearly immediately afterward, volunteer we pile back into the car, grab dinner and drive back. Coo-coo, nutty, if you ask me. I repaid them with Smoked Meat Sandwiches. Thanks guys.

Moving Day

2005-12-09T21:47:00.000-08:00

It's the final countdown now until moving times. My parents will be here in the morning and then it's last minute packing and moving boxes for a long time. I return to the motherland.

Holiday Horror

2005-12-08T10:00:00.000-08:00

Mike DuBose's post about biting into a Chocolate chip cookie, only to find an Oatmeal Raisin, reminded me of a horrifying Thanksgiving moment.

While helping my mom with all the fixin's (which basically means I peeled potatoes, removed cranberry sauce from can and put food on the table) I was nibbling on the goodies, as you do. "Ooh! Walnuts!" My little brain thought as I popped one in my mouth on the way to the pantry. "This tastes weird," I said to myself while walking back to the kitchen. As I picked up the open container, I said "Mom, I think these nuts have gone off..." I trailed off as I saw it. Them, rather. The little buggies crawling all over the 10-year-old nuts. Possibly laying eggs, depositing disease, who the hell knows what those guys were up to, and me with a mouth full of nut pellets left over from the chewing. I ran to the bathroom, rinsed out my mouth and held back the holiday vomit, while my mom laughed at me. She wasn't so horrified at having eaten one herself, amazingly.

*Shudder* Here's to hoping Christmas won't be another unwitting episode of Fear Factor!

Missin' You...

2005-12-08T09:30:00.000-08:00

I'm in the final countdown of dinners, shows, and frenzied packing now and in honor of my aborted mission in Montreal, I've compiled a brief list of things I'll miss about the city.

1) My friend Lea. She was my best friend in Taiwan, and it wasn't too hard to say goodbye there, if only because I knew I'd see her here. Not so this time.

2) My sweet ass apartment. I've got a fireplace in my room, people. A fireplace!

3) My neighbo(u)rhood. The shops, the restaurants, the bars, the cafes and *no* late-night cab fare. Fantastic!

4a) Oh the eye-candy. There are some beautiful people here.

4b) The confidence that comes from being checked out by hot guys every day. Damn, that'll be a hard one to give up!

5) My Star Trek lovin' roommates, Inna and Lea. We've bonded over many a' season.

6) The Smoked Meat. Lea said it best when she pointed out the real reason I'm here at all: Smoked Meat Sandwiches. Possibly better than bacon. Ok, wait. The pre-nostalgia got the better of me for a minute. *Nothing* is better than bacon! But this runs a very very close second.

7) Pain au chocolat. This category's a twofer. There's delicious French breads and pastries at every turn, but equally many chocolatiers with such exciting chocolates as The Bleu Cheese, the Curry, and the Lavender and Rose. Five beautiful chocolate gems I tried that day...

8) The Fashion. Because something tells me that my new leg-warmers won't be so well received in Ohio...

There's just so much to do and see here. It's a shame I've got to leave, but it's for the best.

In Dreams

2005-12-06T05:56:00.000-08:00

They say that if you dream in a foreign language, you've really learned it. Last night I dreamt over and over about spending and/or mysteriously finding large Canadian bills...Does this mean I've really learned how to live in Canada? Luckily no one in my dream said "Paa-sta" or "Maa-zda." I'm not quite ready to adopt that part of Canada yet.

Sunday Night Improv

2005-12-05T06:16:00.000-08:00

Ah, the joys of live comedy. When it's good, you laugh until you hear something snap inside. When it's bad...ouch (and not the good ouch of a rib broken from intense laughter). Lea, Chris, and I decided to check out this improv troupe at the Theatre Sainte Catherine. The highlights of the show included seeing Terry from the movie Fubar perform, and watching the three-week-running Champions defeated in a best of 3 hat game. It involved two improvers performing together, each with the goal of taking the other's hat off his head. The low points were the moments of near silence in the tiny theater, when I'd swear I saw tumbleweeds blowing through the aisle and Lea and I sat squirming uncomfortably at the embarassment of bad comedy. We talked about that feeling of fear for others performing, and how I can't even watch someone on TV entering an embarassing situation without changing the channel to something less stirring. Luckily, VH1 runs "I Love Yesterday Afternoon" near continuously to provide a brief moment of escape. All in all a great night.

"I'm Blogging This"

2005-12-03T10:04:00.000-08:00

In an attempt to have a Last-Week-in-Montreal-Blowout/birthday party, I met Inna and her pals at a bar in the Plateau. Both she and Lea are celebrating their birthdays this weekend, so, so far so good with the rockin' out. Last night, we ended up at a hipster bar called Le Big Cheese for some dancing and tequila shots. At night's end, we'd found ourselves a couple of French-speaking gents. It was then that I heard the best pick-up line ever: "Where are you from? Ohio? Wow. It soundz so exotique," he slurred. Delivered without a hint of irony or sarcasm, it was fantastic! I gave him 5 points for originality, but his repeated suggestion: "Lez doo somezing" had to be turned down.

Happy Birthday Inna and Lea!

Back from a Break

2005-12-03T09:53:00.000-08:00

I returned last night to Montreal from a visit home to hilly streets slicked with ice. I had to walk/skate uphill carrying a huge messenger bag and dragging a suitcase. Welcome back. You may or may not be familiar with my irrational fear of slipping on wet/icy inclines, and if you are you can imagine the horror, the near tears this particular situation reduced me to. Being off-balance, on ice, and on a hill? I nearly shat myself. After a frustrating hike to find two bus stops that weren't functioning due to construction, I hopped a cab and made my way back to the apartment. Phew.

Sadly though, this will be my last week in Montreal. The grand adventure has failed this time. Well, not so much failed as been called off due to (financial) rain (as opposed to freezing rain, that nearly has the same effect). I've got one last glorious week in Montreal and then I'm going back to Ohio.

So, I'm strapping on my ice skates and taking the town by storm, or at least as far as 100 USD will get me...

Shot Through the Heart..

2005-11-30T15:58:00.000-08:00

...and you're to blame, mama you almost gave me a bad name.

Spending a night out on the town with my mom, I discovered that I barely escaped life with the moniker Bambi. Bambi Jones. Imagine how my life would be different as Bambi. The world most likely wouldn't have taken me very seriously, so I might have focused on my looks instead of books. I would never become a phD, although I possibly would have had more dates in high school. I would probably own a lot more pastel clothing than I currently do, and I would assuredly be on a first-name basis with the girls down at the Clinique counter. I'd probably still have the massive debt, but I'd have a closet full of out-dated handbags, shoes, and snazzy outfits to attribute it to, and not student loans and/or a possible (oh, who am I kidding--RAGING) DVD-collecting addiction.

What I don't understand is how my mother could be proud of how I've turned out. After hearing this and all the other names she considered "blessing" me with (Jade, among others), it seems she was really hoping I'd turn out to be an exotic dancer of some sort. I guess she can be proud that I adopted the handle Fifi all on my own...

Thank you a million fold to those with the sense to talk my mother out of that one!

Death to the Turkey

2005-11-27T10:41:00.000-08:00

It's great seeing old friends over the holidays. I'm back in Ohio for the great turkey feast and I've forgotten how much I love the mid-west. On my way to meet a friend staying in Orrville (To the uninitiated, it's the home of Smuckers Jams and not much else), I drove by some of the best middle-America signage! You know you've landed when you see signs such as "Nothing Satisfies like Beef..." and restaurants serving All-You-Can-Eat Pancakes *and* Chili. I'm not sure if the chili and pancakes came together as a meal, or perhaps one on top of the other, but I was on my home and I didn't really feel the need to stop and inquire.

Other exciting things I passed included an old circus trailer. And I mean an awesome old wooden one with carved decorations around the top and sides. Most of the paint had worn away and it looked pretty beat up, but was still one of the coolest things I've ever seen. That one I almost pulled over for!

Le Gout de la Ville

2005-11-17T19:03:00.000-08:00

Marie invited me to a lecture at the Architecture Museum called The Taste of the City. I wasn't sure if it would be in French or in English, but I knew that listening to a man talk about the sensuality of food for an hour would make me hungry, so dinner was in order beforehand. Our tummies rumbled as we walked to a shwarma place with a neon man cutting meat from the rotisserie. We settled in for some good grub and headed out.

My French is improving pretty quickly, but apparently not fast enough to attend lectures on Gastronomy and city life. So as I sit there, eyes closed not to doze but rather to focus on the language, I wasn't too upset to realize the shwarma we had for dinner wasn't sitting well. I spent the rest of the lecture dans les toilettes. I would have liked to have heard more, and I was doing reasonably well, but there always seemed to a few key points I was missing. For example, "We all are aware of the effects of blah." Blah was a word he frequently used, at least according to my wetware translation device. It wasn't the most stimulating of lectures, especially since he read directly from his paper, including the words "Introduction" and "Conclusion." Painful.

The Winter Descends...

2005-11-15T20:29:00.000-08:00

Today was the first day of stickin' snow. It snowed/hailed for a very short time a few days ago, but today was slushy, almost icy, windy and cold...and it's only just beginning. Snow is so pretty...especially if you can look at it through a window or play in it, but trudging through it on your way to work isn't nearly as cute or fun.

Luckily, after the tri-packing disaster that caused the loss of most of my winter goods, I've restocked on the winter gear front. I've got a great winter coat with big hood (it's even waterproof so that slushy rain/snow is no problem!) and a good pair of mittens (a few thinner gloves to wear underneath). I'm working on the boots/scarf/hat combo, but that should be along shortly. After Taiwan's super mild winter/high heat summer, I'm really concerned about losing digits in the -40 degree weather! I'm not sure my body can take it! We'll see, but you may want to start thinking up some nicknames for me in the event that I lose any fingers or toes to frostbite. Some personal favorites are Stubby Jones, 2 Phalange, or 7 digit Bridget.

2005-11-14T17:37:00.000-08:00

The Old Port of Montr�al. I lifted the pic from Globosapiens.

Psychology of the Dance Floor

2005-11-13T10:40:00.000-08:00

After the play last night, a couple of us went out for beers in the Old Port. Richard's friend was nearby and we headed over to meet him and some folks at a "pub."

As it turns out, we were all gathered by this cat who had promised all of us a chill night out at a bar with possibly a guitar player. Turns out it was a dance club with a $7 dollar cover, shitty music, shittier beer($5 dollar 6 oz Labatt drafts?! Are you kidding me?), and all the grinding college students those things bring. Plus, said cat bailed about 5 minutes after Seb and Caterine got there, and Richard, Marie, and I never even saw him.

So, there we all sat in the corner, being the old folks I remember at the club in my day...bitter and surrounded by a growing pile of plastic beer cups. Two for one speicals tend to lead people towards double fisting. But in the immortal words of Gloria Estefan, "the rhythym (or all the double fisting) is gonna get you" and we found ourselves unable to beat 'em, thus joinin' 'em in some good old fashioned table dancing. This was of course the only option since there was no dance floor, yet an absurd amount of picnic tables filled with jiggling co-eds.

It was then that I witnessed a new dynamic. There was of course girl-on-girl dancing the last time I went to a club, but this time it was a little different. Three girls were rubbing their asses on each other in order to escape the two dudes re-enacting club scenes from A Night at the Roxbury, that is, sandwiching a chick and then high-fiving. The girls weren't totally freaked out, but not interested for sure. I wonder if girl-on-girl grinding is in some ways the new circle of girls dancing...

This is research I have no intention of following up on. Clubs with barmaids in leiderhosen are not for me.

Lest I Bore You with Pictures...

2005-11-10T05:50:00.000-08:00

While at the workshop, I learned something interesting about Canadian schools and within them, French. Several French teachers mentioned a stigma attached to being a French teacher. Apparently it isn't a popular job, and some schools rope unwilling teachers into being FSL (French as a Second Language) teachers. This may be because the students have sometimes as little as 100 minutes of French a week, and they don't show much progress even after having two or more years learning. This is frustrating for students and parents, and of course the teachers who'd like to see their students do well and enjoy themselves. I wasn't sure what the stigma was exactly, and since this was a covert mission I couldn't pump them for info the way I would during a normal convo. So I pose the question: Is there a stigma for French teachers/classes in Canada? What is it? How does it work? Why? And is there a corresponding stigma for a subject in the States? A friend of mine suggested Gym. Are there any others? I guess this was more a series of questions instead of one...

2005-11-10T05:49:00.000-08:00

Lantern Festival 2005: The Year of the Rooster

2005-11-10T05:47:00.000-08:00

The famed "Hot Pot" resto. Meat and vegetables are delivered on a plate and you cook them in a pot of boiling water with spices.

2005-11-10T05:45:00.000-08:00

"The Chief" Owner of 89K Bar in Taichung. Harleys/Native vibe, in the middle of Taiwan.

2005-11-07T17:56:00.000-08:00

Just a glance to the right while driving...

2005-11-07T17:55:00.000-08:00

The Family hosting

2005-11-07T17:54:00.000-08:00

One-Month Old Baby and his lucky Weiguoren

2005-11-07T17:46:00.000-08:00

Our Scooter Gang

And Finally...

2005-11-07T17:30:00.000-08:00

Now that I have my computer back (Oh Happy Day!) and an internet connection, I can finally post some of the pictures from Taiwan. These two are from my trip to Kenting in the south of Taiwan for New Year last year.

2005-11-07T17:28:00.000-08:00

Pool near the shore

2005-11-07T17:22:00.000-08:00

The Gang in Kenting for New Years 2005

BLISTERfield

2005-11-07T16:52:00.000-08:00

I've never ridden on a long-haul bus in the U.S., although now the count is up to two for the number of other countries I've ridden them in. I've always heard such horror stories about Greyhound, and what with the stellar quality of long-haul buses in Taiwan (I'm sure I posted about the Vibro-buses), I was sure that I would be utterly disappointed and perhaps sickened by the state of the transportation.

Meanwhile, it was pleasant, clean, slow, but not at all the horrible thing I thought it would be! Sadly, this morning on my way back to Montreal, I didn't have time for the morning cup of coffee and all it helps to, uh, get "moving." So I found myself in a very awkward position. Make a turdie on the bus, possibly stinking up the whole thing, *or* waiting until we make a stop with a break. I chose the latter. When we rolled up to our stop for a blessedly long 30 minute break (compared with the 15 min. one we got on the way to Toronto), I high-tailed it to the 'washroom.' It was noon and I was hungry so I thought I'd squeeze some lunch in there too. Uh-huh.

Flash forward to me running to Tim Horton's and trying to shove scalding hot chili into my face before the bus pulls away. I spent most of the rest of the trip home slowly sipping water to dull the pain of my mouth burns. Luckily, it was only another 4 hours back. My mouth also seems to be sufficiently healed.

Thanks to Jen and Matthew for letting me crash on their couch and being the loveliest of hosts! It was fun!

Toronto: Home of the Black Squirrel

2005-11-05T14:59:00.000-08:00

Cassandra Jones, alias Sandra, is in Toronto this weekend to accomplish two missions.

No. 1: Attend a workshop on new techniques to teach/learn French involving something akin to sign langauge.

No. 2: Visit other covert agents of her underground vigilante squad Jen and Matthew, aliases unknown.

Our operatives have observed her as she moves through the city and have witnessed the following events...

8:15 am Sandra moves through Runnymeade Subway station, apparently en route to workshop. Has obtained a transfer, but is unsure how to use it. Asks attendant how to use only to be answered by look of utter disbelief at the stupidity of the asker. In a seeming huff, she answers that she'll figure it out herself, thanks him harshly and proceeds to Eastbound train.

9 am Realizes that workshop is to start at 9 and she is still en route. Seems relieved by the presence of other passengers who appear out of their element. These other passengers declare their destination and it becomes clear that it is the same as Agent Sandra's. She seems comforted by this.

2 pm With an hour left of the workshop, Agent skips out due to extreme boredom with repetition of the same 5 points. She is overheard discussing the worth of said workshop, although she seems to be excited about the general program's concepts. Spends on hour + on the subway/bus system returning to Matthew and Jen's base of operations.

3 pm-Present Appears to be holed up inside Jen and Matthew's pad. Beer has been seen entering the apartment although there is no sign of Agent Sandra. Shouts and songs such as Agent Matthew's "On Wisconsin, Aw Wisconsin, you guys suck real bad. That's the song," could be heard emminating from the apartment as the Agents appeared to be watching a college football game. The smell of vegetarian nachos wafted from the window.

It operative on duty reports that phone calls have been placed confirming tonight's event of dinner and possibly dancing. Mode of transportation has yet to be determined. More reports to follow.

Will the damn phone stop ringin?

2005-11-03T09:18:00.000-08:00

Number of calls in the last 30 mins about the mosque: 2
Number of times I haven't answered the phone this morning: 3
Number of important calls missed because I stopped answering the phone last night: 1

Ramadan is almost over...please let it almost be over!

Reverse Culture Shock

2005-11-03T08:56:00.000-08:00

I think I'm finally over it. The reverse culture shock after getting back from Taiwan was so surprising, so unknown, I couldn't put my finger on why I felt so strange. I was in a weird mood, skittish around all the non-Asian English-speaking folks, mesmerized by how different things were from Taiwan. I mean, I'd heard about how people usually got culture shock when returning to the States after a trip like that, but I'd never had it before, or at least it was so subtle as to not be noticable. I've read lots about RCS, but no one seemed able to pin down the feelings I was having. The closest I could come to describing it was calling it a feeling of intimidation by almost everything Western. And folks, there's a lot of Western stuff in the West!

Anyway, progress went slowly, and I was sad that I had planned to move so soon after getting back. That's not to say I'm not diggin' Montreal, because I am, possibly more than any other city I've lived in. It's only that I uprooted myself again, before I'd had time to readjust from the last big uprooting.

So, I'm starting to feel like myself again. Whole, able to speak with folks (even non-Asian folks!), and more assured of my place in this big place we call the West. And hey, it only took 2 months! It took me 8 months in Taiwan to get over the culture shock!

Now, if only I could get a handle on the Metro system!

Settin' 'em up, and shootin' 'em down

2005-11-02T20:57:00.000-08:00

So I'm doing better than I ever have in my life at getting jobs! Sadly, none of them are paying me yet.

It must be said that I've never had three consecutive job interviews land me (well, I was going to say paydirt, but it hasn't paid yet so...) some dirt of the non-paying variety. It's not that they won't earn me some cash eventually, it's just I have to build up my client base. Wow, that sounds extremely shady when I see it written down. But, lest ye worry, I'm not selling my body on the street, I'm working quite reputably as a private tutor/business English teacher.

Until I make some of the cash money, keep your fingers crossed!

C'est le Mosque?

2005-11-02T20:54:00.000-08:00

Calls received asking "Is this the mosque?": 8
Number of these calls received between the hours of 9-11:30pm tonight: 7

Dude.

Uncle Klaus

2005-11-01T11:21:00.000-08:00

I found out my uncle died the other day. It's the first time I haven't been with my family for a funeral.

Mosque in French

2005-10-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

We got a wrong number last night, and since Lea doesn't speak any French, she handed the phone to me. The man asked for Monsieur Blahrdi Blahr and I simply said wrong number and hung up. That's when Inna informed us that the man may have been asking for the mosque in French.

Turns out our number is listed somewhere as the phone number of Montreal's mosque. So from time to time, depending on the holiday all the Islamic Montreallers will call us. This month happens to be Ramadan, the month of fasting, so the calls are a' comin'.

I haven't had a phone number this great since I lived on campus and had EXT. 6666! An extra 6 for extra evil! But this time people will call asking for God instead of asking for Satan. There is something to be said for symmetry...

Clean Thoughts

2005-10-25T07:20:00.000-07:00

So I finally got around to dragging my laundry to the laundromat/café on the corner. Initially I loved the idea of a super cool café to hang out in while I'm doing something as boring as laundry, but I've given it more thought and it doesn't seem to be the great idea it once did. Here's why:

1)It's super cool and so are the people who go. Do you really want them to see how old/dirty/worn out your (insert embarassing laundry item here) is?

2) This is not the place to wear your laundry day clothes. This means I now have to plan what I'm going to save for laundry day and/or wear something dirty and forgo it's cleaning for a week.

3) When trying meet people in a new place (and this one is apparently the place to meet folks), there isn't anything sexy about laundry unless you left your old/dirty/worn out (insert embarassing laundry item here) at home.

4) Not everyone goes to do their laundry. Some just go to hang out, thus making it awkward when you walk in with your dirty laundry, leaving a trail of underwear by their table.

It all adds up to a headache I just don't need. Maybe there is another laundromat equally as close...Um...nope. Blanc de Blancs it is.

I Heart Goats

2005-10-23T16:46:00.000-07:00

I've made a discovery about myself. I love goat. Apparently, I love all goat products. I had a goat meat curry the other day and loved it. Today I ordered a goat roti from the Caribbean restaurant around the corner. Delicious. And then there's my recent discovery of goat cheese...I just never knew that I could feel this way about a dairy product. It's beautiful thing.

Ch...Ch...Changes

2005-10-21T09:30:00.000-07:00

I've been tooling around on the computer in an effort to avoid the cold and/or the grad school admissions process. End result? I gave the blog a slightly different look and after a year finally figured out how to add some links!

Here's a quick rundown--

Two Dollars a Day: Molly's in the Ukraine with the Peace Corps. Live vicariously, I will!

I'm a dork: Meredith gives us the dish on life's oddities and other random cultural hiccups.

TheMikeDubose: building only the finest TheMikeDuBoses, since 1971. He likes beer, food, sports, his wife, and cultural theory. The Man Show for the thinker. He also happens to be the best person to ride a roller coaster with!

Head Full of Sermons: Love of beer and good music, divinity student style.

Listen To Me!: Eoin spews venom like no other. All things that piss him off, watch out!

I suppose I really should get to writing those essays now.

Wandering Fool

2005-10-18T18:17:00.000-07:00

I'm still getting to know the neighborhood, but so far I've found a great place to get some Caribbean grub, a wine shop, a bank, place to get cheap clothes, places to get expensive clothes, the nearest metro and bus stops (and a handy-dandy map to get around with), and a video store.

The local coffee shop is killer! Lots of windows, cozy couches, great music, good food and super coffee. My roommate Inna works there so it already feels familiar. It's a café/laundromat so it's mulitfunctional too! I'm not really sure what else I could ask for in a coffeeshop that's only a block away from the apartment. I lucked out!

And as everyone says Montréal is beautiful! And by that I mean that everyone in this city is gorgeous. I'm not sure quite how it happened, but the people here must have been making beautiful babies for generations. It's remarkable.

I've been job hunting and wandering around, pretty much just looking at all the shops with a bag full of resumés while trying to keep my eyes in my head while passing hot man after hot man. In what luckily didn't turn out to be a situation as embarassing as it might have been, I caught myself inhaling deeply as a good-looking guy walked by. I did it totally subconsciously, but I was trying to smell the pretty man! Unreal. :)