Sima's birthday was on Thursday, so they all came to me. We inflated nine yellow balloons (his favorite color) and we went to Baraka Cafe, which has good food and a chatty Tunisian lady. I told Sima that, since he has so many things, I'm not going to give him a physical gift. Instead, my gift to him is that he will come visit me for a day and sleep over. When Mama asked him what I had given him he said "She gave me love".Monday, May 4, 2015
yellow balloons
Mama and I went to Newbury St with one goal in mind: to get me a hat. The Goorin Brothers shop was filled with people listening to the Kentucky Derby crackling on the radio, drinking bourbon and wearing outfits alluding to some old-Kentucky time. The hat is brown and felt and with a very large wavy brim. My hair does not look silly sticking out from underneath - this was a very lovely birthday gift.
Sima's birthday was on Thursday, so they all came to me. We inflated nine yellow balloons (his favorite color) and we went to Baraka Cafe, which has good food and a chatty Tunisian lady. I told Sima that, since he has so many things, I'm not going to give him a physical gift. Instead, my gift to him is that he will come visit me for a day and sleep over. When Mama asked him what I had given him he said "She gave me love".
Sima's birthday was on Thursday, so they all came to me. We inflated nine yellow balloons (his favorite color) and we went to Baraka Cafe, which has good food and a chatty Tunisian lady. I told Sima that, since he has so many things, I'm not going to give him a physical gift. Instead, my gift to him is that he will come visit me for a day and sleep over. When Mama asked him what I had given him he said "She gave me love".
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Spontaneity
One thing I've learned from online dating is that everyone wants someone spontaneous and 'willing to try new things' as well as some standard rotating set of 'has a good sense of humor' or 'can have an interesting conversations'. I on the other hand like humorless boring people.
Regardless, I wouldn't call myself a spontaneous person. Paras and I took a trip to Target a couple weeks ago. He has a theory that older siblings date people who are younger siblings, and that older siblings are less spontaneous, generally smarter and less athletic. I told him that I sometimes set goals for myself to be more spontaneous - and was relieved and surprised when he said he has done the same thing. Not only that, but written down moments of increased impulsiveness, a list of running accomplishments that feel more satisfying than fulfilling expectations of walking up the steps of societal expectation and growth. Yes, I got a positive ninety-day review at work but also I bought pussy-willow at the store on a whim and that's even better. Under the florescent lights, we pathetically looked up reviews for vacuums on amazon and compared prices before, finally, settling on the first one we had looked at.
Last weekend Sara sighed at me as I chose three rings for ten dollars. It was the third time in my life I had ever bought myself jewelery. It took her a few seconds to choose earrings, and I kept trying on one ring, matching colors, wanting to know which fingers I'd wear them on and if on the thumb then it should be bigger but shoot they don't have that color in a bigger size. "Don't you do anything spontaneously?" she asked and I remembered that I had bought a ticket to Moscow what seems not too long ago but is has already been two and half years. But even that was a result of a long-seated desire to do so; the action was not planned, but the intention had been there for years. fuck I thought she's right. As we weaved through Haymarket, I bought a stem of grapes for a dollar and a whole fish for four. Spanish Mackerel, beautiful on ice, not yet gutted. Sara was impressed.
"It is important for people, for whom part of their identity is being sensible, intelligent and responsible, to know that they can risk being foolish". This is what I told my visitor (or myself) this weekend, a friend of a friend who was here for the sole purpose of trying to see if this thing with a guy would work out. We went to the Isabella Gardner museum during the day and she met him for dinner later. Today we had brunch downtown and walk down Newbury street, and who know what will happen for them? But without spontaneously risking foolishness, one can never find out. I'm turning twenty-three in three days, maybe I'll learn.
Regardless, I wouldn't call myself a spontaneous person. Paras and I took a trip to Target a couple weeks ago. He has a theory that older siblings date people who are younger siblings, and that older siblings are less spontaneous, generally smarter and less athletic. I told him that I sometimes set goals for myself to be more spontaneous - and was relieved and surprised when he said he has done the same thing. Not only that, but written down moments of increased impulsiveness, a list of running accomplishments that feel more satisfying than fulfilling expectations of walking up the steps of societal expectation and growth. Yes, I got a positive ninety-day review at work but also I bought pussy-willow at the store on a whim and that's even better. Under the florescent lights, we pathetically looked up reviews for vacuums on amazon and compared prices before, finally, settling on the first one we had looked at.
Last weekend Sara sighed at me as I chose three rings for ten dollars. It was the third time in my life I had ever bought myself jewelery. It took her a few seconds to choose earrings, and I kept trying on one ring, matching colors, wanting to know which fingers I'd wear them on and if on the thumb then it should be bigger but shoot they don't have that color in a bigger size. "Don't you do anything spontaneously?" she asked and I remembered that I had bought a ticket to Moscow what seems not too long ago but is has already been two and half years. But even that was a result of a long-seated desire to do so; the action was not planned, but the intention had been there for years. fuck I thought she's right. As we weaved through Haymarket, I bought a stem of grapes for a dollar and a whole fish for four. Spanish Mackerel, beautiful on ice, not yet gutted. Sara was impressed.
"It is important for people, for whom part of their identity is being sensible, intelligent and responsible, to know that they can risk being foolish". This is what I told my visitor (or myself) this weekend, a friend of a friend who was here for the sole purpose of trying to see if this thing with a guy would work out. We went to the Isabella Gardner museum during the day and she met him for dinner later. Today we had brunch downtown and walk down Newbury street, and who know what will happen for them? But without spontaneously risking foolishness, one can never find out. I'm turning twenty-three in three days, maybe I'll learn.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
basement party
This is my first full time job. This is the first time I have signed a
lease. This is the first time I bought lipstick. This is the first time
I have made an on line dating profile, and gone on a blind date. This
is the first time I have bought a gym membership. This is the first time
I have bought pussy willow in the spring. like my mother does. This is the first time I've had a budget
spreadsheet. This is the first time I've attended a party that was attended by the police, twice.
The apartment-wide party really did end up happening on Saturday night. Adrian Paras Amy and I went down to the basement and there was a dj playing in the corner with his laptop and a movie projected behind him, another one waiting for his turn at the set, wearing lab goggles over his glasses. A couple lamps and some Christmas lights, someone turned on a couple bike lights and it looked like a strobe blinking in the corner. Like an edgy bar where they can charge you 12$ for drinks, except with a laundry room at the entrance. At 10:30 the cops showed up, right as we had shut off the music (there was a quick interlude for a fund-raising auction, which was actually pretty funny.) They said something about usually being reasonable before eleven but that we were so loud they could hear us a block away. I blame the building architecture for acting as an amp.
They left and soon after we continued, the number of people swelling and multiplying; people who didn't live in the building, people who were friends or dating, people who came after they heard it was actually a party, people who came before to create critical mass. I ended up stereotyping apartments: the demure and professional girls, and tall bro-y potheads, the nerdy MIT students. A few of the apartments opened up their doors and we went on an apartment tour, exploring the different layouts, the messes of one set of people, the meticulousness of another, the pile of shoes at the end of a hallway and the posters in the kitchen, sangria standing on the kitchen table. Paras's friend came with a horde of Germans, I talked to a couple who didn't live in the apartment, recently moved here - she's Columbian, he's Italian. One girl started apologizing to me that she wasn't more outgoing, as if a total stranger could have noticed her sadness amongst dozens of people. A girl asked her "why are you sad?" and she said "oh. nothing, oh someone just didn't come" and we nodded sympathetically. I said "if I knew you better, I would give you a hug" and she responded "I can use one, yes" surprising me more than the boy who decided to put his phone my dress pocket, a pocket between my shoulder blades that I cannot really reach myself, and a little less than the German boy whose female companion kept pointedly making out with him while he was talking to me and Paras, him going on about how not Jewish my nose is and that I don't have horns, not necessarily in a mean way but just rather unaware that I don't know anything about him. I walked up and down the stairs, weaving in and out of a few apartments, grabbing another bottle of beer, going back to the warm basement and up for gulps of fresh air on the deck, again with the Italian-Columbian couple. And at 1am the cops came again and Paras and I sat contentedly on the porch.
The apartment-wide party really did end up happening on Saturday night. Adrian Paras Amy and I went down to the basement and there was a dj playing in the corner with his laptop and a movie projected behind him, another one waiting for his turn at the set, wearing lab goggles over his glasses. A couple lamps and some Christmas lights, someone turned on a couple bike lights and it looked like a strobe blinking in the corner. Like an edgy bar where they can charge you 12$ for drinks, except with a laundry room at the entrance. At 10:30 the cops showed up, right as we had shut off the music (there was a quick interlude for a fund-raising auction, which was actually pretty funny.) They said something about usually being reasonable before eleven but that we were so loud they could hear us a block away. I blame the building architecture for acting as an amp.
They left and soon after we continued, the number of people swelling and multiplying; people who didn't live in the building, people who were friends or dating, people who came after they heard it was actually a party, people who came before to create critical mass. I ended up stereotyping apartments: the demure and professional girls, and tall bro-y potheads, the nerdy MIT students. A few of the apartments opened up their doors and we went on an apartment tour, exploring the different layouts, the messes of one set of people, the meticulousness of another, the pile of shoes at the end of a hallway and the posters in the kitchen, sangria standing on the kitchen table. Paras's friend came with a horde of Germans, I talked to a couple who didn't live in the apartment, recently moved here - she's Columbian, he's Italian. One girl started apologizing to me that she wasn't more outgoing, as if a total stranger could have noticed her sadness amongst dozens of people. A girl asked her "why are you sad?" and she said "oh. nothing, oh someone just didn't come" and we nodded sympathetically. I said "if I knew you better, I would give you a hug" and she responded "I can use one, yes" surprising me more than the boy who decided to put his phone my dress pocket, a pocket between my shoulder blades that I cannot really reach myself, and a little less than the German boy whose female companion kept pointedly making out with him while he was talking to me and Paras, him going on about how not Jewish my nose is and that I don't have horns, not necessarily in a mean way but just rather unaware that I don't know anything about him. I walked up and down the stairs, weaving in and out of a few apartments, grabbing another bottle of beer, going back to the warm basement and up for gulps of fresh air on the deck, again with the Italian-Columbian couple. And at 1am the cops came again and Paras and I sat contentedly on the porch.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
blue tape white snow
I got paint at Pills Hardware store and somehow ended up with a VIP
card, 10% off with a signature of the owner (I'm much friendlier when
I'm tired.) I got Yosef to come and help me evacuate all my belongings,
blue tape the floor, paint the walls. I took him out for pad-thai, so I don't think he regretted coming.
I also went with my family to New Hampshire. We went snowshoeing. Sima struggled to get up the mountain but then we slide down most of it on our butts, the longest snow-slide and excruciatingly fun.
Black Cat White Cat (1998, Yugoslavia, Emir Kusturica)
dream --
We had crash landed on another planet, our jar of human stem cells cracking in the process, the culture spilling all over, infecting the air. The creatures that lived in took on the form of what they touched, and so they looked human. But if they touched you, you turned into one of them: empty, imitative, reflectory. And so we were terrified: who is human and who is not? They moved and were watching us, slowly pretending not to hunt.
I also went with my family to New Hampshire. We went snowshoeing. Sima struggled to get up the mountain but then we slide down most of it on our butts, the longest snow-slide and excruciatingly fun.
Black Cat White Cat (1998, Yugoslavia, Emir Kusturica)
dream --
We had crash landed on another planet, our jar of human stem cells cracking in the process, the culture spilling all over, infecting the air. The creatures that lived in took on the form of what they touched, and so they looked human. But if they touched you, you turned into one of them: empty, imitative, reflectory. And so we were terrified: who is human and who is not? They moved and were watching us, slowly pretending not to hunt.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
a taste of life
Work, Work, Work (double), Work, (off), Work, Work (double), (off), Work, Work, Work, Work.
The snow hit hard and I ended up staying at Rita's, sledding in the morning before going to work and getting stuck there because people didn't come in for the night shift, and with the exception of me and one other person, everyone working evening was working a double from the day shift. Which meant that, five days after being mandated to do a double, I got mandated to do a double again. 3pm-7:30am. Not something I ever wanted to do or desire to repeat.
But one good thing: one Sunday the mbta was canceled and I had already gotten home on Saturday, so I had to call off work. Therese and I went to Aeronaut Brewing Co. for a beer & cheese tasting. We walked through the snow for half an hour and it was so beautiful, the snow falling softly, the roads mostly void of cars, and street lamps casting yellow-pink light. The brewery was gorgeous too: a huge hall with high ceilings and a bar, large Christmas-tree bulbs hanging on the rafters, which made it feel both spacious and intimate. And another hall where the beer and cheese was presented to us, pleasant strangers to talk to and we walked home through the snow satisfied.
My apartment just had the fire alarm go off. Everyone evacuated and a girl from one of the apartments started organizing a party for next Saturday. Amen to taking advantage of the situation.
The snow hit hard and I ended up staying at Rita's, sledding in the morning before going to work and getting stuck there because people didn't come in for the night shift, and with the exception of me and one other person, everyone working evening was working a double from the day shift. Which meant that, five days after being mandated to do a double, I got mandated to do a double again. 3pm-7:30am. Not something I ever wanted to do or desire to repeat.
But one good thing: one Sunday the mbta was canceled and I had already gotten home on Saturday, so I had to call off work. Therese and I went to Aeronaut Brewing Co. for a beer & cheese tasting. We walked through the snow for half an hour and it was so beautiful, the snow falling softly, the roads mostly void of cars, and street lamps casting yellow-pink light. The brewery was gorgeous too: a huge hall with high ceilings and a bar, large Christmas-tree bulbs hanging on the rafters, which made it feel both spacious and intimate. And another hall where the beer and cheese was presented to us, pleasant strangers to talk to and we walked home through the snow satisfied.
My apartment just had the fire alarm go off. Everyone evacuated and a girl from one of the apartments started organizing a party for next Saturday. Amen to taking advantage of the situation.
Friday, February 13, 2015
free chocolate
That same day I met up with Karen in the evening. It was my Monday off (I'd worked the weekend of the play) so I wanted to make the most of it, and for once everyone else had a Monday off too. Full weekends become a very exciting event when you only get every other one - a marked switch from the three-day weekends typical of my college experience.
Tuesday, Wednesday were normal work days: up before the sunrise, done by 3:30. Thursday I got mandated to do a double shift for the first time. I still had work Friday morning and had woken up at 4am for no reason. I was so loopy (and also it was my fourth unit in three days, which meant yet another set of names and rapport to establish) but it went well, though I'm sure the other MHW, who had never worked with me before, thought I was crazy. I told him that during my break my eyes welled up with tears after watching a Cheerios commercial.
I met with Cat and Alana after work that day, and watched The Wolf of Wallstreet once I got back to the apartment (2013, USA, Scorsese, not worth your time). Beer and a movie; classic American way to end the day. Totaling being up for 22 hours for no reason at all.
Saturday morning I got up and Therese (roommate) and I joined her friends at Harvard Sq. where a chocolate festival was going on. Lots of free samples, also lots of people lined up, patiently. We were not patient. We ate the samples we got before a couple hundred people swarmed the square, at which point we left to get afternoon margaritas. This is what classy ladies do - drink margaritas in the middle of the day. And the cherry on top was my parents coming to drop my bike off, and then falling asleep, finally, after they left. (There ain't no rest for the wicked.)
Tuesday, Wednesday were normal work days: up before the sunrise, done by 3:30. Thursday I got mandated to do a double shift for the first time. I still had work Friday morning and had woken up at 4am for no reason. I was so loopy (and also it was my fourth unit in three days, which meant yet another set of names and rapport to establish) but it went well, though I'm sure the other MHW, who had never worked with me before, thought I was crazy. I told him that during my break my eyes welled up with tears after watching a Cheerios commercial.
I met with Cat and Alana after work that day, and watched The Wolf of Wallstreet once I got back to the apartment (2013, USA, Scorsese, not worth your time). Beer and a movie; classic American way to end the day. Totaling being up for 22 hours for no reason at all.
Saturday morning I got up and Therese (roommate) and I joined her friends at Harvard Sq. where a chocolate festival was going on. Lots of free samples, also lots of people lined up, patiently. We were not patient. We ate the samples we got before a couple hundred people swarmed the square, at which point we left to get afternoon margaritas. This is what classy ladies do - drink margaritas in the middle of the day. And the cherry on top was my parents coming to drop my bike off, and then falling asleep, finally, after they left. (There ain't no rest for the wicked.)
 |
| after my parents left and I fell napped, I woke up in time for wine & sparklers |
Monday, February 2, 2015
Snow Queen
- I did, I think, do better this time. I also got a lift from rehearsal in a Tesla.
- Waking up the next morning, Veta asleep to one side of me, Liza asleep and snuggled up against my shoulder to the other, Eloosha not yet up in the room across the hall. And then a multi-course breakfast that turned into lunch while we remained seated.
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