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Friday, June 28, 2002
This Is Where the Party Ends Day off from work. Should be happy. Woke up at 9. A couple of minutes later, as I was fixing breakfast, the phone rang. Michelle, my stepmother, checking in. She and Dad are off to Oregon today for a week, coinciding with Chelsea's trip to Cancun. Just letting me know how to reach them and asking how I've been as of late. Dad had just stepped out, but he wanted to get a chance to talk to me as well. I ate, I puttered, I watched The Daily Show. Not the best episode, but that Clint Mathis is a charmer. Mmmm, soccer. At 10:30, I called back to talk to Dad. We chatted for a bit, then "Oh, Dad, can you hold for a second? I have a call on the other line." It's Alan, my potential roommate. We had a group meeting/interview last night among the people interested in the house. Hey, Mike, he said. I was really uncomfortable last night. In case you didn't notice, I'm not white. Maybe it's not politically correct, but if that's not what you wanted, you should have at least put it in the ad. "Excuse me?" I didn't need to waste an hour of my time over there when I could have been doing something productive, like getting dinner. What on earth? My lungs were in rebellion, not expanding. "I don't know wh-what you're talking about. I'm...I'm on the other line with my father. I'd really like to discuss this...later." Yeah, call back later if you want to rebut. I'm not interested in living with people like you. "OK." What the hell do I say? A moment later, I went back to talking to my father. He told me to laugh it off. Um, OK. Not likely. I called Rex and Dawn, the other two future roommates at the meeting. They both commented that if he was going to react that way to no discernable provocation (he apparently also called Rex and referred to him as "white trash"), that it's better to know now...and they didn't want to live with that. Oh, they both added (separately), he didn't seem to respond well when you mentioned you were gay. Is that it? Did he attribute prejudice to me in order to substitute for his own issues? And was I really on the verge of asking him to move in until he called? Sheesh. Thursday, June 27, 2002
+VS- or, Hard to Follow, p 2 (OK, so the company I work for is moving and there are boxes all over my office (and I'm kind of happy to be able to walk into an office with windows on Monday, instead of a cruel aquarium-like glass front), but this I need to tell.) 2. Versus are one of my favorite bands 2-a. They are based in New York 2-a-i. even though the lead singer recently moved to San Francisco 2-a-i-A. (which fueled speculation that they are breaking/have broken up, but so far mum's the word) 2-b-ii. why yes, I am going to New York on July 5, thanks for asking! 2-b. The members of Versus are engaged in a number of other side projects/bands 2-b-i. One is called +/- 2-b-i-A. which is pronounced "plus-minus" 2-b-i-B. and their website is www.plusmin.us, which I think is really cute and clever (and I love that kind of stuff) 2-b-i-C. They feature the second guitarist and drummer from Versus as co-lead-singers/guitarists/keyboardists 2-b-i-C-I. (one of whom Marie thinks is really cute, but she's going to be out of town for the event I'm mentioning soon; so sad) 2-b-ii. Another is called Whysall Lane 2-b-ii-A. featuring the lead singer of Versus 2-b-iii. +/- and Whysall Lane are playing a gig in San Francisco 2-b-iii-A. on July 4 2-b-iii-B. for FIVE BUCKS! 2-b-iii-C. I will be there 2-b-iii-D. three-quarters of Versus ain't half bad 2-b-iii-D-I. yes, the bassist from Versus has her own band, too (the Fontaine Toups), but they aren't involved; pity. 2-c. I puttered over to an unofficial fan site 2-c-i. thinking it was a semi-official site 2-c-i-A. (well, it's British; maybe things are different there) 2-c-ii. and was surprised to find that they had linked to a review that I had written regarding a Versus show in March 2-c-ii-A. Circularity! Monday, June 24, 2002
Fun Things I Heard and Said over the Course of This Weekend "I always get hit on by femmes in stupid hats! I hate it!" "Well, you can't tell him. He'll think you want some." "This is the second night this week that I've been out." "Yeah, this is the second night in a row that I've been out. Here." "Ah, I can tell how much you love this place." "When you said 'rice paddy,' the first thing I thought of was Margaret Cho's 'malaria' routine." "I saw it for the spiders. I was content with that." "Yeah, so, about me..." "Gee, that's exactly what I was just going to talk about." "I think I have a right to be a little creeped out by it, seeing as I'm practically being set up for an arranged marriage." "If I were a beauty queen, I'd want to be Miss..." "Cellaneous: all things to all people!" "I think I'll put that on my answering machine." "First off, she's a cokehead. That's reason enough for me to step back." "But that's not even the issue! She's a really nice person!" "It'd send a good message to the kids. About humility." "Wait, what does unexpectedly being eaten by a shark have to do with humility?" Friday, June 21, 2002
The Joy of Craigslist Missed Connections, Vol. II (Two stories in one! Just your luck!) See if you can follow this... This Monday, my improv class/troupe had our first performance in front of actual humans who paid for their seats...we were part of a comedy showcase that featured a bunch of established comedians, plus us and another improv group trained by Bay Area Theatersports, which--in the world of local improv--is apparently the big time. Taking classes at BATS is normally pretty expensive, but their group was in a free class offered to individuals with AIDS and other terminal diseases. OK, I'm digressing. We were set to go onstage just before them, at the end of the show. We had 12 minutes total, and set up our four games to maximize the audience's enjoyment: Freeze Tag! New Choice! Hands! Man on the Street! (Don't question, just accept. I can show you what they are if you ask nicely.) About half an hour before we were set to go on, their coach--and I say coach purposefully, although it did feel more like a battle than a ballgame--asked ours if they could go on before us, because they were nervous. Hey, we're nervous too! Whatever! So we ended up headlining, in a way. Now, in improv, there are dozens of games to choose from. They can revolve around one of the performers having to guess something the audience suggests, involve switching one's mood/genre/location/status on command, involve incorporating a random phrase into a random situation; some are simply based on the interaction of two or three people. So you can imagine our horror as, upon taking the stage, the other troupe proceeded to play Freeze Tag! and then New Choice! and then Hands! #$;!)(*%!! We scrambled to do something different. Not that it wouldn't have been funny twice (and we would have doubled the funny), but it would still look a little weird. So were switched a few around, put a few others in, and...it worked. Until the end. Man on the Street, our closing game, had all the makings of a grand finale. It involves everyone, engages the audience, and is really easy to do. Pick a topic, set someone up as a reporter trying to get public opinion on that topic, and have everyone else (adopting various kooky personas) parade by to be interviewed. Easier than it sounds. We asked for a topic. We expected "summer is here, where's the warm weather?" or "what do you think of the World Cup?" We did not expect "LESBIAN DOG-MAULING TRIAL!" (In short, a woman was killed by a large dog outside her apartment while the dog's owner watched without acting. The victim's lesbian partner is suing for wrongful death. It's messy.) Guess what: NOT FUNNY. Terrible way to end. (You may be wondering how craigslist works into all this. To quote Mr. Ruehle, my high school physics teacher, I told you that story so I could tell you this one. And here's where everything gets weird. Take a break. Have a snack.) An acquaintance of mine (who just happened to come without knowing I'd be there, and whom I'll call A for convenience) who had been sitting in the front row with a friend of his (B), came up to me afterward and sprinkled some congratulations around. Everyone was very polite, all was well, blah blah blah. So...yesterday, I'm cruising through craigslist and in that wacky missed connections board, a subject header catches my eye: it mentions the comedy showcase from Monday. Hm? A missed connection occurred under my nose? Interesting! It's from one of my troupemates! I'll call him C. Now, C is quite a character and has hit on me in the past (while drunk, at a party hosted by another classmate), and is fine as a classmate and an acquaintance. And nothing more. The message is addressed to B! (I know, because C describes A very clearly, while asking if they're "together.") He included a link to his picture gallery, which I thought was nice (well, wouldn't you have a look?) until I came across the FULL FRONTAL NUDE SHOT! (And we're not talking "artistic" here.) AAAAAAUUUUGHHHH! Did. Not. Need. To. See. That. Now I'm going to be in contact with C again next Wednesday (in a group setting), and the questions are already swirling around my head: -Will I be able to ignore the fact that I've seen him naked? -Do I really want to spend time around someone who would post nude pictures of himself to a public forum in order to get someone's attention? -Should I tell him I've seen them? (Will he mistakenly think I'm showing interest?) -Should I tell A (seeing as he is tangentially involved)? -Should I tell everyone in the troupe except C and giggle about it? -Should I tell craigslist? -Am I making too much out of this? And thereby hangs a tale. The Joy of Craigslist Missed Connections, Vol. I Like many of my Bay Area brethren, I enjoy wasting time perusing the missed connections on craigslist. It's a haven for some pretty interesting conversations (and the occasional yes-it's-real missed connection, which I'll get to later), but lately the moderators have been trying to bump conversations over to the forums, "where they belong." Shyeah. No fun. So I see this posting... >>Why is the term Asian is used so loosely? >>People from different countries all grouped into one term...ASIAN. >>WHY IS that? ...followed by this response... >um...they're from Asia? You know-the continent... ...and I think to myself, this deserves the kind of commentary I am wayyy too happy to provide. So I post. An hour later, it gets sent back to me, "take it to the forums," blah blah blah. Imagine my disappointment. There is no relevant topic in the forums. Oh, well. I haven't said anything substantial here in a while. Here's what I said in response. Comments welcome... ["Easy to say, but "continent" isn't any kind of real political or cultural division: ninety-odd percent of Turkey's land is in Asia, but you rarely hear anyone referring to Turks as Asians. (Israel's in Asia, too.) Heck, there isn't a definitive answer on whether the Americas constitute one continent or two. (And if it is two, is the dividing line the Panama Canal or the Rio Grande?) "OK, so I'm a geography nerd. That said... "To the original poster: It's just convention in the U.S. to refer to people descended from East Asians (those from China-Korea-Japan and environs) as 'Asians' since their features are fairly similar (some people can tell them apart, some can't...that's the way it is) and it hasn't been until recently that people from different cultures in that region have been able to assert their differences here. "It's idiosyncratic to the U.S. In Britain, 'Asian' tends to refer more to people from South Asia (India, the Pakistans, Sri Lanka and environs), since immigration there has been more from that region...and I'm NOT going to get into the O-word. Notice that in both cases (US and GB), "Asian" is only used for a subset of Asia--it's not used quite so loosely as it could be. "OK, so I'm also a language nerd. Have I helped? "In the end, 'Asian' a grouping that's somewhat general, but also crudely specific. There are numerous political reasons for and against using it (strength in numbers v. lost in the crowd, for two), but I'm not enough of a politico-nerd to do it justice. If anyone wants to take that mantle, be my guest."] Monday, June 17, 2002
Shout-outs Aplenty First, to my honey Jane: you're the only woman for me. And that's saying a lot coming from a guy who isn't otherwise attracted to women.* Second, to Mr. Kim: I totally called it. I told you my parents were going to ask me about the unmentionable issue, and the next morning as I was telling my dad what we were up to, he asked. I almost fell over laughing. Because I'm so prescient. Third, Dad: Happy Father's Day. No, I didn't mind sitting on the couch watching the U.S. Open with you. I needed the rest. Fourth, to my homies in The Improv Group That Dare Not Speak Its Name**: Tonight is gonna be gutbusting. We are gonna rock the community center. It's all the way live now. Fifth, Alice: I know there's no way you'd know of the existence of this page, but I just want to say I've been to Costco and it's all good. Six, to Rent-A-Wreck: Your cars stink, and projecting an brand identity of bargain rates would infer that it's actually cheaper to rent from you than from big-snazzy companies. Why isn't it? Seventh, to Hao: Sorry the Mr/Ms Gay Safe Latino contest ended up being mostly in Spanish (and kind of boring), but at least we found out that the Exploratorium is free the first Wednesday of each month, which is knowledge I plan to use wisely. Eighth, Cat: Chill. *I mean, I would be, if I could. I think bisexuality would be cool. Not necessarily easy, but cool. **Somehow, after running through dozens of options, exhaustion took over and we agreed on "Scratched by an Angel." If we ever perform again after tonight, the name must change. Thursday, June 13, 2002
While I'm at It... Another point of closure regarding a point I made a couple of months back...I went out and bought the new They Might Be Giants album (used, for $6. mmmm...frugality.) and it's really, really good. I'm listening to it now. And smiling. Rental Return Just want to comment that that last post came out a little (just a little) more melodramatic than I'd meant it to. Things are good now. Also adding that upon informing my family Tuesday night, they responded with "Great! Do you want us to reimburse you?" Somehow my pride won out over my frugality and I found myself assuring them that no, I could handle it. D'oh! Tuesday, June 11, 2002
The Rental >>Metaphors and equations that will be useful for my upcoming trip to Modesto: Modesto = childhood, family, dependence, vulnerability, obligation Oakland = the present, reality San Francisco = exploration the rental car = adulthood, independence BART = limited mobility, partial (false) independence Pleasanton = the extent of my false independence a family member's car = surrendering control $50 = after taxes and rent, my averaged daily take-home pay the Altamont = the divide between my formative years and my current self; also an ideological and political divide between my family and me the highway = my connection to my family >>What this means in context: I live in Oakland and work in San Francisco, but my family lives in Modesto. I am going to visit them--as I do every few months--this weekend to celebrate my sister's graduation and Father's Day. Until recently, I've arranged to have a family member meet me at the Pleasanton BART station and drive me from there to Modesto. I was somewhat uncomfortable with that system, as I had to operate around someone else's schedule and take someone else's time, not to mention that once in Modesto my mobility was restricted to borrowing cars for in-town use. I have not always had a positive relationship with my family. It is important to me to have the option to leave home of my own accord. In April, I rented a car to go to Modesto and run some other, local (Bay Area) errands. I found that even though it cost nearly $50 per day (including the under-25 fee and insurance waiver), it was well worth the price to me to have my freedom. I sang as I went over the Altamont, driving along the uncrowded highway. I arrived in Modesto when I wanted and left when it was time to go. It was a good feeling. I've already got a reservation for a Geo Metro for this Friday. Thursday, June 06, 2002
Hard to Follow, p 1 1. I went to Flagstaff over Memorial Day weekend to hang out with some friends from AmeriCorps that I haven't seen (or much talked to) since this past August 1-a. Johnney and Jen--the hosts--plus Paula, Kate, and Tina (who lives practically around the corner 1-a-i. not that I'm a bad friend or anything 1-a-ii. hey, I did manage to bring some overpriced Ghirardelli chocolates along as a token of my Bay Area ambassadorship 1-a-ii-A. although, to my chagrin, I discovered they were also for sale at the Phoenix airport (for the same price) 1-b. we hiked in Sedona, we barbecued portabellas, we lay on the floor drinking wine+listening to music+talking about our shared experiences 1-b-i. it was a good weekend...I was kind of sad to come home--to work 1-c. in the 9 days since I've been back, I have yet to contact any of them 1-d. going Greyhound from Phoenix to Flagstaff really helped me appreciate the flight from SFO to PHX 1-d-i. but then, where else would I ever get the chance to sit next to a tubercular Buddhist nun? |