Monday, March 29, 2004
ooof monday morning how tedious...
well, friday, came home after work and changed into "girl clothes". john and i went to meet chris and his friend mark miller at a bar in copley square. it was very fun. we met them in "The Pour House" which was pretty fun - excellent tall frosted beer glasses. so i had some tequila in between beers. realised i had no cash so left them to it while i wandered down the street to an atm. from where we were you can pretty much look towards downtown crossing and see lots of tall buildings (still very awesome to a bumpkin like me), and the tequila buzz made me feel very good indeed. as i was finishing my cigarette outside the bank, a girl came over to me and told me that she loved my tights (i went for the fishnets again - got to love that hooker chic).
went back. more beer. also downing shots of yaegermeister, whatever the hell that is. think i preferred the tequilla. and oh - beccy, i totally forgot about your heads up on the larger shot sizes. dear lord. that bar was fun.
anyway. then we went to another bar, though some kids on this weird wooden tram thing tried to get us to go on it. we weren't convinced.
so we went up the street to Bukowski's Tavern. for those who don't know, Charles Bukowski was an absolutely amazing poet and writer, writing about life as a debauched alcoholic bum - writing things like:
An Ode to Strong Women
Dry your tears, pretty girl
wipe your flushed face
Smooth silky hair from that face,
gaze into your eyes, pretty girl
it's all you baby
Crank up the music, pretty girl
shake the floor.
Do what feels right.
Pull the sweatshirt off over your head
and on a strappy backless top
Back to the mirror
head over shoulder
Flex
Sure, she's an ornery bitch
and he's an insensitive asshole
but someone's genetics had to
give you those muscles.
Well, their genetics.
Your heart, pretty girl.
and ranging into the more hilarious extracts from one of my favourite books, "Women":
we remained apart for a week. then one afternoon i was over at lydia's place and we were on her bed, kissing. lydia pulled away.
"you don't know anything about women, do you?"
"what do you mean?"
"well, i can tell from your poems and stories that you just don't know anything about women."
"tell me more."
"well, for a man to interest me he's got to eat my pussy. have you ever eaten pussy?"
"no."
"you're over 50 and you've never eaten pussy?"
"no."
"it's too late."
"why?"
"you can't teach an old dog new tricks."
"sure you can."
"no, it's too late for you."
"i've always been a slow starter."
anyway, there's this bar called Bukowski's in town, so we went there. i went before once, and it was quite quiet. seemed kinda nice, dark - they actually have 99 bottles of beer you can choose from. (kinda tacky but it's beer so i figure it's all good). anyway, it was busier on Friday, but was busy with slightly more showy people. maybe we were just drunk (well, we were definitely drunk), but the air in there felt kinda pretentious. so, we drank some beers, miller started hassling the people around him (must tell you more about him some time - he's great), we broke a glass and we got kicked out.
we got kicked out of bukowski's for behaving badly. i LOVE it.
otherwise, went back to another bar with some amply-endowed girl from The Real World in it, where john and i quickly realised we were TOTALLY hammered, and left miller talking to a girl and chris drinking from a fishbowl sized glass of something bright red, saying to this girl's friend "do you wanna fuck?"
i love drinking in this country. and i love the drunken cab rides home too - turning round like a small child to watch the city lights disappear behind us. then getting home and smashing jay in the face as i open the front door wildly.
great.
well, friday, came home after work and changed into "girl clothes". john and i went to meet chris and his friend mark miller at a bar in copley square. it was very fun. we met them in "The Pour House" which was pretty fun - excellent tall frosted beer glasses. so i had some tequila in between beers. realised i had no cash so left them to it while i wandered down the street to an atm. from where we were you can pretty much look towards downtown crossing and see lots of tall buildings (still very awesome to a bumpkin like me), and the tequila buzz made me feel very good indeed. as i was finishing my cigarette outside the bank, a girl came over to me and told me that she loved my tights (i went for the fishnets again - got to love that hooker chic).
went back. more beer. also downing shots of yaegermeister, whatever the hell that is. think i preferred the tequilla. and oh - beccy, i totally forgot about your heads up on the larger shot sizes. dear lord. that bar was fun.
anyway. then we went to another bar, though some kids on this weird wooden tram thing tried to get us to go on it. we weren't convinced.
so we went up the street to Bukowski's Tavern. for those who don't know, Charles Bukowski was an absolutely amazing poet and writer, writing about life as a debauched alcoholic bum - writing things like:
An Ode to Strong Women
Dry your tears, pretty girl
wipe your flushed face
Smooth silky hair from that face,
gaze into your eyes, pretty girl
it's all you baby
Crank up the music, pretty girl
shake the floor.
Do what feels right.
Pull the sweatshirt off over your head
and on a strappy backless top
Back to the mirror
head over shoulder
Flex
Sure, she's an ornery bitch
and he's an insensitive asshole
but someone's genetics had to
give you those muscles.
Well, their genetics.
Your heart, pretty girl.
and ranging into the more hilarious extracts from one of my favourite books, "Women":
we remained apart for a week. then one afternoon i was over at lydia's place and we were on her bed, kissing. lydia pulled away.
"you don't know anything about women, do you?"
"what do you mean?"
"well, i can tell from your poems and stories that you just don't know anything about women."
"tell me more."
"well, for a man to interest me he's got to eat my pussy. have you ever eaten pussy?"
"no."
"you're over 50 and you've never eaten pussy?"
"no."
"it's too late."
"why?"
"you can't teach an old dog new tricks."
"sure you can."
"no, it's too late for you."
"i've always been a slow starter."
anyway, there's this bar called Bukowski's in town, so we went there. i went before once, and it was quite quiet. seemed kinda nice, dark - they actually have 99 bottles of beer you can choose from. (kinda tacky but it's beer so i figure it's all good). anyway, it was busier on Friday, but was busy with slightly more showy people. maybe we were just drunk (well, we were definitely drunk), but the air in there felt kinda pretentious. so, we drank some beers, miller started hassling the people around him (must tell you more about him some time - he's great), we broke a glass and we got kicked out.
we got kicked out of bukowski's for behaving badly. i LOVE it.
otherwise, went back to another bar with some amply-endowed girl from The Real World in it, where john and i quickly realised we were TOTALLY hammered, and left miller talking to a girl and chris drinking from a fishbowl sized glass of something bright red, saying to this girl's friend "do you wanna fuck?"
i love drinking in this country. and i love the drunken cab rides home too - turning round like a small child to watch the city lights disappear behind us. then getting home and smashing jay in the face as i open the front door wildly.
great.
Thursday, March 25, 2004
anna suggested that i do my own questionnaire. i'll blatantly never get round to doing the kids downstairs...
1) Do robots cry?
Chrissy: of course
2) You're invisible for a day. What's the first thing it occurs to you to do?
Chrissy: stand in front of mirror moving objects in front of it and laughing (not my original answer but someone else said it and i thought, "that's blatantly what i would do, none of this cool shit...")
3) You are a muppet. Which one are you?
Chrissy: the girly bass guitarist in the band that says groovy a lot apparently
4) Describe your worst non-sober experience.
Chrissy: puking for hours at a party these kids had when we were 15, because i filled a bottle with a cm from every bottle in my parents drinks cabinet and downed it, and i was nowhere near cool and they ended up calling my mum to come and get me because i threw up all over the house. i woke up in my mum's bed because she was afraid i'd choke to death on vomit in my sleep.
5) What's your fondest memory from the first 10 years of your life?
Chrissy: had a nightmare when i was about 3 and screamed out to my parents but they weren't there so i went all over the house terrified and finally saw them outside in the garden looking at the stars, and i was calm and took myself straight back to bed.
6) What's the best book you can recall reading?
Chrissy: maybe "A Moment in Peking" by Yutang Lin - it made me cry
7) What song do you most like singing along to?
Chrissy: Sleater-Kinney "Sympathy" or at the moment "Wild Horses", embarassingly enough
8) What amuses you most about the English (or just me...)?
Chrissy: my ability to get myself into the most ridiculous situations, be melodramatic about them, and lose all sense of dignity. that can be pretty funny.
9) Who do you think would win a fight between 2 robots called "John Walker" and "Kieron Gillen"?
Chrissy: the duck beats them both into submission because ducks don't cry
1) Do robots cry?
Chrissy: of course
2) You're invisible for a day. What's the first thing it occurs to you to do?
Chrissy: stand in front of mirror moving objects in front of it and laughing (not my original answer but someone else said it and i thought, "that's blatantly what i would do, none of this cool shit...")
3) You are a muppet. Which one are you?
Chrissy: the girly bass guitarist in the band that says groovy a lot apparently
4) Describe your worst non-sober experience.
Chrissy: puking for hours at a party these kids had when we were 15, because i filled a bottle with a cm from every bottle in my parents drinks cabinet and downed it, and i was nowhere near cool and they ended up calling my mum to come and get me because i threw up all over the house. i woke up in my mum's bed because she was afraid i'd choke to death on vomit in my sleep.
5) What's your fondest memory from the first 10 years of your life?
Chrissy: had a nightmare when i was about 3 and screamed out to my parents but they weren't there so i went all over the house terrified and finally saw them outside in the garden looking at the stars, and i was calm and took myself straight back to bed.
6) What's the best book you can recall reading?
Chrissy: maybe "A Moment in Peking" by Yutang Lin - it made me cry
7) What song do you most like singing along to?
Chrissy: Sleater-Kinney "Sympathy" or at the moment "Wild Horses", embarassingly enough
8) What amuses you most about the English (or just me...)?
Chrissy: my ability to get myself into the most ridiculous situations, be melodramatic about them, and lose all sense of dignity. that can be pretty funny.
9) Who do you think would win a fight between 2 robots called "John Walker" and "Kieron Gillen"?
Chrissy: the duck beats them both into submission because ducks don't cry
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
okay, so enough of the rantings and the time-wastings etc etc... down to business. more american shit...
i’ve started saying “dude”. not a lot. but i never said it before, unlike certain people (walker and kieron and the younger williams: i’m looking at you). every time i say it i realise too late that i sound like a twat, and that i should have said “man” instead. (i said “man” before). anyway. that’s sort of unsettling — it makes me feel all “Bill and Ted”.
and “twat” – there’s another one. lots of people (for people read “girls” in this context) get REALLY offended by this word. i was trying to explain how i just sort of grew up with it being a substitute for “twit”, and how the word was already deeply ingrained as a D-list swearword before anyone realised what it actually meant. it’s not the same here. here it’s approaching “cunt” levels. oh and another thing: they say “twat” to rhyme with “plot”. i don’t know why i mention this really. it just makes me laugh.
another word i’ve started saying is “sketchy” (for sketchy read “skanky”). again, i’m not saying it often, but it is slowly being absorbed into my vocabulary, and i’m sure will keep floating to the top of my “words to use” list rather like the unsurpressable shouty-girl bands in my Amazon.com “recommendations”.
i refuse to say “what’s up”. it gets said to me a lot, and i really struggled to know what to do with it at first, but i refuse to say it. i tried just smiling. i occasionally tried answering “nothing, just watching tv”, but then i realised that it’s not a question at all. so now it just goes like this: *bounding american male voice* “hey, what’s up?” *prim british voice* “hello”. it still feels a little odd to answer a question with “hello”, but everyone assures me that it’s not a real question, and no one is ACTUALLY asking me what’s going on, how i am, or (especially) “what *is* up”.
(on a tangent, i remember a really nice, if rather “literal” girl from Wisconsin who was at uni. little matt saw her in the dining hall and said “hey, how’s it going”, intending to use it as all students do, which is merely to say “hi”, and in NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM implied that he ACTUALLY want to know anything personal about her life. Jen, on the other hand, took it as a literal question, and “hey, how’s it going” meant that Matt got to hear all the ins and outs of her visit to the doctor that morning and all the medication he’d prescribed, and how her back was and what other physical pain she was in and how she was also a little homesick for the states etc etc etc. Unfortunately for Matt, Jen read “it” as “life”.)
“sure” is another one. if someone asks if i want to go and do something random, or watch a random film that i don’t know what it is, i just pause, open my eyes wide in a puzzled fashion, tilt my head and say “sure”. i like using “sure” – it’s reassuring. it feels very “zen” in a “well why not” sort of a way.
“i’m all set” is another – “do you want a cup of tea?” “no thanks, i’m all set”... “do you need anything from the store?” “i think i’m all set”... “can i help you get that flag out of your ass?” “thanks, i’m all set”. but i still feel a bit weird using it. anyway...
then, of course, there’s the smoking pot phrase: “smoking the bomb-ass chronic”. i adore this phrase (please note that “smoking the chronic” is also acceptable). i haven’t been indulging (bad things happen to my already fucked-up mood swings when i do, and it makes me turn into an evil bitch-monster from hell – “turn into”? – yes, that’s what i said...) but i just like saying the phrase. john also likes me saying the phrase. that is because i sound like a complete and utter MORON when i do. it’s not a phrase that can be said in an english accent – it just isn’t. we don’t have the right intonation, or actually, just plain pronounciation for starters.
this is how it SHOULD be said:
imagine the marlboro man, or else a tall dark american with a glint in his eye, or imagine it as a lyric in an american post-rock song (obviously not so post that it doesn’t have words). this phrase is 100% american. it’s “smokin’” not “smoking” – and not in a short, clipped way – the whole phrase is drawn out and said with relish and english people just CANNOT say it.
because when i say it it sounds like this:
It turns me into penelope keith looking at jerry saying “Jerry, have you and Tom been smoking the Bomb-Arsed chronic again?”
wrong. very very wrong. but it entertains John endlessly, so that he occassionally shoots me a glance when we’re talking about it and just says “Say it”. hee hee. simple pleasures.
i bought some shampoo yesterday that smells of mangos. that made me happy. simple pleasures are good.
what was i talking about?
i’ve started saying “dude”. not a lot. but i never said it before, unlike certain people (walker and kieron and the younger williams: i’m looking at you). every time i say it i realise too late that i sound like a twat, and that i should have said “man” instead. (i said “man” before). anyway. that’s sort of unsettling — it makes me feel all “Bill and Ted”.
and “twat” – there’s another one. lots of people (for people read “girls” in this context) get REALLY offended by this word. i was trying to explain how i just sort of grew up with it being a substitute for “twit”, and how the word was already deeply ingrained as a D-list swearword before anyone realised what it actually meant. it’s not the same here. here it’s approaching “cunt” levels. oh and another thing: they say “twat” to rhyme with “plot”. i don’t know why i mention this really. it just makes me laugh.
another word i’ve started saying is “sketchy” (for sketchy read “skanky”). again, i’m not saying it often, but it is slowly being absorbed into my vocabulary, and i’m sure will keep floating to the top of my “words to use” list rather like the unsurpressable shouty-girl bands in my Amazon.com “recommendations”.
i refuse to say “what’s up”. it gets said to me a lot, and i really struggled to know what to do with it at first, but i refuse to say it. i tried just smiling. i occasionally tried answering “nothing, just watching tv”, but then i realised that it’s not a question at all. so now it just goes like this: *bounding american male voice* “hey, what’s up?” *prim british voice* “hello”. it still feels a little odd to answer a question with “hello”, but everyone assures me that it’s not a real question, and no one is ACTUALLY asking me what’s going on, how i am, or (especially) “what *is* up”.
(on a tangent, i remember a really nice, if rather “literal” girl from Wisconsin who was at uni. little matt saw her in the dining hall and said “hey, how’s it going”, intending to use it as all students do, which is merely to say “hi”, and in NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM implied that he ACTUALLY want to know anything personal about her life. Jen, on the other hand, took it as a literal question, and “hey, how’s it going” meant that Matt got to hear all the ins and outs of her visit to the doctor that morning and all the medication he’d prescribed, and how her back was and what other physical pain she was in and how she was also a little homesick for the states etc etc etc. Unfortunately for Matt, Jen read “it” as “life”.)
“sure” is another one. if someone asks if i want to go and do something random, or watch a random film that i don’t know what it is, i just pause, open my eyes wide in a puzzled fashion, tilt my head and say “sure”. i like using “sure” – it’s reassuring. it feels very “zen” in a “well why not” sort of a way.
“i’m all set” is another – “do you want a cup of tea?” “no thanks, i’m all set”... “do you need anything from the store?” “i think i’m all set”... “can i help you get that flag out of your ass?” “thanks, i’m all set”. but i still feel a bit weird using it. anyway...
then, of course, there’s the smoking pot phrase: “smoking the bomb-ass chronic”. i adore this phrase (please note that “smoking the chronic” is also acceptable). i haven’t been indulging (bad things happen to my already fucked-up mood swings when i do, and it makes me turn into an evil bitch-monster from hell – “turn into”? – yes, that’s what i said...) but i just like saying the phrase. john also likes me saying the phrase. that is because i sound like a complete and utter MORON when i do. it’s not a phrase that can be said in an english accent – it just isn’t. we don’t have the right intonation, or actually, just plain pronounciation for starters.
this is how it SHOULD be said:
imagine the marlboro man, or else a tall dark american with a glint in his eye, or imagine it as a lyric in an american post-rock song (obviously not so post that it doesn’t have words). this phrase is 100% american. it’s “smokin’” not “smoking” – and not in a short, clipped way – the whole phrase is drawn out and said with relish and english people just CANNOT say it.
because when i say it it sounds like this:
It turns me into penelope keith looking at jerry saying “Jerry, have you and Tom been smoking the Bomb-Arsed chronic again?”
wrong. very very wrong. but it entertains John endlessly, so that he occassionally shoots me a glance when we’re talking about it and just says “Say it”. hee hee. simple pleasures.
i bought some shampoo yesterday that smells of mangos. that made me happy. simple pleasures are good.
what was i talking about?
Saturday, March 20, 2004
i was wasting time on saturday, waiting for my mum to call - very frustrating as i was dying to get out of the house and stalk mikhail baryshnikov - anyhow, i was google-searching people under the "images" tab. i figured these were entertaining enough to share... actually they're probably not. oh well. hicks' is funny...
edit: incidentally claire, you don't want to know what kind of images i found under your name... eek.
kieron gillen:
john walker:
alec meer:
claire thompson:
daz low:
jim rossignol:
anna simpson:
penny williams: 
jon hicks:
edit: incidentally claire, you don't want to know what kind of images i found under your name... eek.
kieron gillen:
john walker: alec meer:
claire thompson:
daz low: jim rossignol:
anna simpson:
penny williams: jon hicks:
Thursday, March 18, 2004
okay, so one last thing before i'm done for the day:
in new york i found myself in central park absolutely desperate for the toilet. i ended up paying six bucks just to get into the zoo so i could relieve myself. then the seals suckered me in and i wandered around - sunbathing isn't the word. sunworshipping is what they were doing. anyway.
there's also this polar bear bit with a pool, and they have a current flowing through it so the water is randomly in motion for the odd half an hour throughout the day (kinda like a wave machine). anyway, there's this one polar bear that was getting very buzzed from being in the water. he'd dive down to the bottom, then let himself float up to the surface, where he'd open his mouth wide, hang his tongue out, and launch himself backwards, arms out. then he would just land, with his whole pelt, up against the thick glass, on the other side of which are tourists, and then he'd do a little swim kick and push himself off the glass, dive down again and repeat the cycle. (i have a feeling this may be indicative of some kind of behavioural problem caused by boredom, or maybe he was just chillin', who knows...) anyway, to be a tourist stood at the thick glass at the bottom of the pool was amazing, because you got to look up at this huge *massive* furry animal playing in the water, pushing off the glass at nose height with his MASSIVE paws - people were trying to touch the glass as he touched it, it was very cool.
then i overheard this one little girl who was very excited say to her dad "you know what i wish i wish that you could put your hand to this glass and if you touched this glass then you would become a polar bear." then she looked at the bear again and thought about what she'd said. "actually, no" she said, and walked off a little sadly.
in new york i found myself in central park absolutely desperate for the toilet. i ended up paying six bucks just to get into the zoo so i could relieve myself. then the seals suckered me in and i wandered around - sunbathing isn't the word. sunworshipping is what they were doing. anyway.
there's also this polar bear bit with a pool, and they have a current flowing through it so the water is randomly in motion for the odd half an hour throughout the day (kinda like a wave machine). anyway, there's this one polar bear that was getting very buzzed from being in the water. he'd dive down to the bottom, then let himself float up to the surface, where he'd open his mouth wide, hang his tongue out, and launch himself backwards, arms out. then he would just land, with his whole pelt, up against the thick glass, on the other side of which are tourists, and then he'd do a little swim kick and push himself off the glass, dive down again and repeat the cycle. (i have a feeling this may be indicative of some kind of behavioural problem caused by boredom, or maybe he was just chillin', who knows...) anyway, to be a tourist stood at the thick glass at the bottom of the pool was amazing, because you got to look up at this huge *massive* furry animal playing in the water, pushing off the glass at nose height with his MASSIVE paws - people were trying to touch the glass as he touched it, it was very cool.
then i overheard this one little girl who was very excited say to her dad "you know what i wish i wish that you could put your hand to this glass and if you touched this glass then you would become a polar bear." then she looked at the bear again and thought about what she'd said. "actually, no" she said, and walked off a little sadly.
okay, so, you know me - you know what i'm like. seems to be either hyperactive or else chronically depressed. well, i don't understand. all of these things - awful things, like this:
or this: 
or this: 
i don't understand how i can read all of these things, and feel sick, and feel angry, but at the same time know that i am so happy today, and that my life is good, and that I can not be sad today.
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE - Bil, have you been slipping me prozac while I've been sleeping or something? I've suddenly turned this pointless little blog into a soapbox. I'm sorry. I only meant to tell you all about silly instances like last night when I was trying to teach British pronounciation to Americans ("on the DOLE" "on the dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DO-" well, you get the gist...). it's because i can't chat to any of you in person i guess. wow. no poet should ever be given a public forum for free. i should have to work for it.
okay, tomorrow, i'll find something lighthearted to tell you about. let's make a start by laughing at this:
or this: or this:
i don't understand how i can read all of these things, and feel sick, and feel angry, but at the same time know that i am so happy today, and that my life is good, and that I can not be sad today.
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE - Bil, have you been slipping me prozac while I've been sleeping or something? I've suddenly turned this pointless little blog into a soapbox. I'm sorry. I only meant to tell you all about silly instances like last night when I was trying to teach British pronounciation to Americans ("on the DOLE" "on the dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DOLE" "dole" "DO-" well, you get the gist...). it's because i can't chat to any of you in person i guess. wow. no poet should ever be given a public forum for free. i should have to work for it.
okay, tomorrow, i'll find something lighthearted to tell you about. let's make a start by laughing at this:
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
To all those from Spain - well done for casting your vote, whatever it was. To everyone else keep quiet. What has it got to do with you? Want to know why the world is in the state it's in? Take an hour or two and read the whole page. Tolerance, I believe, may be the thing that is missing.
edit: and actually, while we're at it, you might want to click here too...
edit edit: DAMMIT - click there and then go back 2 pictures. what i meant you to be able to see was a picture of this, although as it's updated so frequently i guess i should just link you somewhere like this instead - politics - SHEESH - you can never pin anything down exactly...
edit: and actually, while we're at it, you might want to click here too...
edit edit: DAMMIT - click there and then go back 2 pictures. what i meant you to be able to see was a picture of this, although as it's updated so frequently i guess i should just link you somewhere like this instead - politics - SHEESH - you can never pin anything down exactly...
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
so the bus journey home. the bus itself is totally fine. have to wait in line for a bit first, but i'm basically sleeping on my feet so i don't mind.
sat down. this guy bounced up "excuse me is this seat taken?" and takes off his jacket and sits down. he won't shut up. "man it's so cold, wow we really had to wait a long time!, so you're english? i met a great couple of people from ireland yesterday. they're friendly in ireland. are they friendly in london? wow i wish i could wear casual clothing like you, but i had to dress up today." oh really, howcome? i ask him. he looks at me totally incredulously. "church!" he answers with dramatic emphasis, and gives me a look.
he was very chatty. and also didn't understand why i didn't have a cell phone or a computer over here. "i'm loving not having one. i mean, people used to get by before, right?" he didn't understand. "but how do you organise anything? i mean, you gotta have a phone, right?" "no i don't." "but you gotta. you can't not have one." so, well - i just stopped talking and shrugged.
talking about people being friendly or not, he said that in paris people were really rude to him and unhelpful. "if i see people on the subway looking lost, scratching their heads, i always go up and help. i mean, i think it's a good thing, right? for people to help each other?" he was asserting this very aggressively, to the point where his manner made me uncomfortable, but i obviously agreed "yes, of course it's good. everyone should. but a lot of the time people are wrapped up in their own lives, or their journey, or feel like it's none of their business to butt their noses into other people's lives." suddenly american foreign policy pops into my head. "but everyone should help everyone. rude people are wrong" he said. what could i do but agree with him?
"you're not getting sick are you - i heard you coughing?" oh no, i answer, this is because i smoke - i always have a little cough. "you - shouldn't - smoke!" he sings this at me, point-shaking his finger with a big grin on his face. "my brother is very weak willed and he quit smoking and if he can i'm sure that you can. you're trying to quit, right?" actually i'm not at the moment. i go through phases, i answer. blankness ensues. this conversation really bugs me. he's a total stranger. he probably thinks he's being helpful, but i don't feel like a total stranger has any right to offer me such advice. everyone has problems - i'm sure he has his - there are bigger things than smoking habits to deal with sometimes. i guess i was in a shitty mood and it bothered me.
he was also very vocal about how he was sure he would miss his 8.15 bus connection in boston. and about his extra drive afterwards. he even phoned 3 people and started talking to the woman behind us about it. it was around this point i started pretending to be asleep. a couple of times he jabbed me in the elbow, and i swear he did it on purpose, because the jolt made me jump and open my eyes, and THE SECOND my eyes were open he started yammering at me again.
while my eyes were shut i realised he was talking to himself. in the absence of a conversational doormat, he was muttering to himself about the connection he didn't want to miss. "shit" i thought "he's fucking crazy too..." then i heard "sweet lord jesus mary mother of god please don't let me miss my connection i really need my connection please sweet lord jesus don't let me miss it." he was praying, out loud, to himself, asking God not to let him miss his bus just so that he wouldn't have to hang around the bus station for an extra hour waiting for the next one. this actually upset me much more than before when i just thought he was a nutter. it seemed like such a trivial thing to need to pray for.
i never thought about religion before about a year ago. it was just something i'd been forced to do when younger and left it at that. when my grandad died, it occured to me to wonder about god, but i left my thoughts quietly sitting on the fence. in the last year though, i have to say, that i no longer feel agnostic. i feel so totally aetheist that i don't even like saying "i don't believe in god", because that implies i'm rejecting and ignoring something, rather than not believing a word of it. see - i'm WAY dogmatic about my anti-dogma...
the main issue i have with organised religion is that i feel that it limits you. as soon as you subscribe to one set of beliefs, it automatically means that others are wrong by default. you're allowed to tolerate them, but they're still technically *wrong*. i find that kind of limitation very difficult to understand. i know not all religions are like this - i know some don't have that "leave your old religion at the door" policy - but, some do, and i think it's a shame.
i got a submission last week from an islamic woman who is married to a catholic man, both very devout. they have 2 kids. that just blows my mind. how does that even work? how can they reach that level not only of tolerance, but acceptance of each other's belief structures and do that every single day in their home. their kids are being taught, as her letter told me, to believe that having faith is the most important thing, and catholics celebrate it in one way, and muslims celebrate it in another way - they both have faith and belief in God, and they're both right.
i don't think that i can be similarly tolerant of someone else's beliefs - not when it's that close to home. and i know this is a really bad thing, and it upsets me. i can't help but get mad at fundamentalists who twist religion for their own political or social purposes - and i can't seem to divorce these people from the religions they are affiliated with, even though i have met many people of faith who were kind, and non-judgemental, and open minded. unfortunately, i realise that in my own aetheism, i am not being open minded at all. i need to address my own intolerance.
i don't know why i'm telling you all this. i guess i'd be boring you with this in the pub, but the commute would kill me...
so what then: i was sat next to an annoying man for 4 hours. it so happened that he prayed out loud about a bus connection. this wound me up, probably, mostly because i had a raging hangover. and that makes me sad, and pretty disappointed in myself, because i realise that i have put up walls in my belief structure too. i want to be the kind of person who can celebrate faith wherever i see it, because i believe in mankind, and its right to make its own choices and to live in its own way. and at the moment, i'm not behaving like that. if any of this has offended anyone, please keep in mind that i think i'm behaving wrongly, and that i want to change.
it's snowing really heavily outside. i think i'm going to have a cigarette in the basement, and cough.
sat down. this guy bounced up "excuse me is this seat taken?" and takes off his jacket and sits down. he won't shut up. "man it's so cold, wow we really had to wait a long time!, so you're english? i met a great couple of people from ireland yesterday. they're friendly in ireland. are they friendly in london? wow i wish i could wear casual clothing like you, but i had to dress up today." oh really, howcome? i ask him. he looks at me totally incredulously. "church!" he answers with dramatic emphasis, and gives me a look.
he was very chatty. and also didn't understand why i didn't have a cell phone or a computer over here. "i'm loving not having one. i mean, people used to get by before, right?" he didn't understand. "but how do you organise anything? i mean, you gotta have a phone, right?" "no i don't." "but you gotta. you can't not have one." so, well - i just stopped talking and shrugged.
talking about people being friendly or not, he said that in paris people were really rude to him and unhelpful. "if i see people on the subway looking lost, scratching their heads, i always go up and help. i mean, i think it's a good thing, right? for people to help each other?" he was asserting this very aggressively, to the point where his manner made me uncomfortable, but i obviously agreed "yes, of course it's good. everyone should. but a lot of the time people are wrapped up in their own lives, or their journey, or feel like it's none of their business to butt their noses into other people's lives." suddenly american foreign policy pops into my head. "but everyone should help everyone. rude people are wrong" he said. what could i do but agree with him?
"you're not getting sick are you - i heard you coughing?" oh no, i answer, this is because i smoke - i always have a little cough. "you - shouldn't - smoke!" he sings this at me, point-shaking his finger with a big grin on his face. "my brother is very weak willed and he quit smoking and if he can i'm sure that you can. you're trying to quit, right?" actually i'm not at the moment. i go through phases, i answer. blankness ensues. this conversation really bugs me. he's a total stranger. he probably thinks he's being helpful, but i don't feel like a total stranger has any right to offer me such advice. everyone has problems - i'm sure he has his - there are bigger things than smoking habits to deal with sometimes. i guess i was in a shitty mood and it bothered me.
he was also very vocal about how he was sure he would miss his 8.15 bus connection in boston. and about his extra drive afterwards. he even phoned 3 people and started talking to the woman behind us about it. it was around this point i started pretending to be asleep. a couple of times he jabbed me in the elbow, and i swear he did it on purpose, because the jolt made me jump and open my eyes, and THE SECOND my eyes were open he started yammering at me again.
while my eyes were shut i realised he was talking to himself. in the absence of a conversational doormat, he was muttering to himself about the connection he didn't want to miss. "shit" i thought "he's fucking crazy too..." then i heard "sweet lord jesus mary mother of god please don't let me miss my connection i really need my connection please sweet lord jesus don't let me miss it." he was praying, out loud, to himself, asking God not to let him miss his bus just so that he wouldn't have to hang around the bus station for an extra hour waiting for the next one. this actually upset me much more than before when i just thought he was a nutter. it seemed like such a trivial thing to need to pray for.
i never thought about religion before about a year ago. it was just something i'd been forced to do when younger and left it at that. when my grandad died, it occured to me to wonder about god, but i left my thoughts quietly sitting on the fence. in the last year though, i have to say, that i no longer feel agnostic. i feel so totally aetheist that i don't even like saying "i don't believe in god", because that implies i'm rejecting and ignoring something, rather than not believing a word of it. see - i'm WAY dogmatic about my anti-dogma...
the main issue i have with organised religion is that i feel that it limits you. as soon as you subscribe to one set of beliefs, it automatically means that others are wrong by default. you're allowed to tolerate them, but they're still technically *wrong*. i find that kind of limitation very difficult to understand. i know not all religions are like this - i know some don't have that "leave your old religion at the door" policy - but, some do, and i think it's a shame.
i got a submission last week from an islamic woman who is married to a catholic man, both very devout. they have 2 kids. that just blows my mind. how does that even work? how can they reach that level not only of tolerance, but acceptance of each other's belief structures and do that every single day in their home. their kids are being taught, as her letter told me, to believe that having faith is the most important thing, and catholics celebrate it in one way, and muslims celebrate it in another way - they both have faith and belief in God, and they're both right.
i don't think that i can be similarly tolerant of someone else's beliefs - not when it's that close to home. and i know this is a really bad thing, and it upsets me. i can't help but get mad at fundamentalists who twist religion for their own political or social purposes - and i can't seem to divorce these people from the religions they are affiliated with, even though i have met many people of faith who were kind, and non-judgemental, and open minded. unfortunately, i realise that in my own aetheism, i am not being open minded at all. i need to address my own intolerance.
i don't know why i'm telling you all this. i guess i'd be boring you with this in the pub, but the commute would kill me...
so what then: i was sat next to an annoying man for 4 hours. it so happened that he prayed out loud about a bus connection. this wound me up, probably, mostly because i had a raging hangover. and that makes me sad, and pretty disappointed in myself, because i realise that i have put up walls in my belief structure too. i want to be the kind of person who can celebrate faith wherever i see it, because i believe in mankind, and its right to make its own choices and to live in its own way. and at the moment, i'm not behaving like that. if any of this has offended anyone, please keep in mind that i think i'm behaving wrongly, and that i want to change.
it's snowing really heavily outside. i think i'm going to have a cigarette in the basement, and cough.
Monday, March 15, 2004
well, i'm never going to get round to typing this out again, so here's the NY highlights in conversation-with-john-walker form. there's more bits and pieces to follow but that;ll do for now:
melodramagirl says:
manhatten is INSANE
JohnW says:
cool
melodramagirl says:
friday night:
at 6 get off bus in chinatown, meet guys, go for nice reasonable meal, then go to bar
walking past market stalls selling frogs by the bucket
all treading water looking up at passres by
JohnW says:
ick
melodramagirl says:
the bar is so dark we have to read the menu by candlelight and rob's girlfriend falls over her stool
we go home - they're jetlagged
it's about 11
ash and i head out again to his friend's house, who looks like a swedish pornstar called stephan
the biceps on thei man
WOW
so we go to another bar
and get FUCKING HAMMERED and stumble into a cab aroudn 2
have a cigarette on roof of building in the middle of the east side looking at all the skyscrapers, rather a-la weekend at bernies
saturaday
tourist stuff
park, statue, large adverts etc...
saturday night - go to restaurant from police acadamy wehre they fry or sautee or do soemthing werid iwth a goldfish
food cooked right in front of us
very tasty
go to an old speakeasy bar and drink cosmopolitans and look at the pretyy people
go to another bar where ash pays $300 to get us in and to a table
JohnW says:
WHAT?!
melodramagirl says:
yep - we get to our table at the top of a member's lounge way up top and get brought copies bottles of vodkjea, a cooler, jugs of fresh orange and cranberry juice
and then
we down our drinks and leave 15 minutes later
shit
it was crazy
JohnW says:
that's insane
JohnW says:
how much money does he have?
melodramagirl says:
we then got on this bus around manhatten organised by some promoters my friend nkows, with free vodka bar and beers and plush seats like a MUSIC video and everyone was smoking and ther's a dj and we're all dancing
i tell you
it was crazy
we crawled home at 5am
he makes enough money
i went for a weekend - but that's his life
JohnW says:
what an extraordinary weekend
melodramagirl says:
manhatten is INSANE
JohnW says:
cool
melodramagirl says:
friday night:
at 6 get off bus in chinatown, meet guys, go for nice reasonable meal, then go to bar
walking past market stalls selling frogs by the bucket
all treading water looking up at passres by
JohnW says:
ick
melodramagirl says:
the bar is so dark we have to read the menu by candlelight and rob's girlfriend falls over her stool
we go home - they're jetlagged
it's about 11
ash and i head out again to his friend's house, who looks like a swedish pornstar called stephan
the biceps on thei man
WOW
so we go to another bar
and get FUCKING HAMMERED and stumble into a cab aroudn 2
have a cigarette on roof of building in the middle of the east side looking at all the skyscrapers, rather a-la weekend at bernies
saturaday
tourist stuff
park, statue, large adverts etc...
saturday night - go to restaurant from police acadamy wehre they fry or sautee or do soemthing werid iwth a goldfish
food cooked right in front of us
very tasty
go to an old speakeasy bar and drink cosmopolitans and look at the pretyy people
go to another bar where ash pays $300 to get us in and to a table
JohnW says:
WHAT?!
melodramagirl says:
yep - we get to our table at the top of a member's lounge way up top and get brought copies bottles of vodkjea, a cooler, jugs of fresh orange and cranberry juice
and then
we down our drinks and leave 15 minutes later
shit
it was crazy
JohnW says:
that's insane
JohnW says:
how much money does he have?
melodramagirl says:
we then got on this bus around manhatten organised by some promoters my friend nkows, with free vodka bar and beers and plush seats like a MUSIC video and everyone was smoking and ther's a dj and we're all dancing
i tell you
it was crazy
we crawled home at 5am
he makes enough money
i went for a weekend - but that's his life
JohnW says:
what an extraordinary weekend
so, new york is kinda cool. and when i say kinda cool, what i mean is that i just stepped into a music video for 48 hours, but now i'm back. explanations are going to take a while - as i want to tell you exactly what happened. i don't even want to give you highlights now - oh my god. manhatten is just insane. it's a playground, with cabs that just swing round and round and round, and you don't go to the same bar twice, and you have to have toys, and you're always moving on somewhere else so you mustn't ever stop.
i was in a music video. and i wore a skirt and fishnets and my hair in bunches and i looked very cute.
but i didn't take any photos. you can't take photos of a music video. you're there so other people can take photos of you, not the other way round.
i was in a music video. and i wore a skirt and fishnets and my hair in bunches and i looked very cute.
but i didn't take any photos. you can't take photos of a music video. you're there so other people can take photos of you, not the other way round.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
i've taken tomorrow off work and i'm going to new york for the weekend. the cheapest way to get there is this bus that goes from Chinatown Boston to Chinatown New York. it should take about 4 or 5 hours and it's a $20 round trip. i'll be arriving in new york at sunset.
my friend Ash lives in manhatten - devonshire boy makes good... ash is memorable from uni for dressing up as a pimp to go to his girlfriend's fancy dress party - she went as Barbie - and also for my dad trying to tell him off for yelling "Bollocks" out of the window at my one and only failed attempt at having a party when i was 16.
i'll take my camera, now that it's started working again. you might even get a photo of me this time...
but i doubt it.
camera seems to be working again, so here's final non-hand-taken pic.
there is SO much wildlife here - it's crazy. and we're TOTALLY surrounded by houses and streets. raccoons cross the street in pairs, and they scamper up trees if people are walking along the pavement. i watched so many people walk straight past this raccoon without seeing it at all. doesn't anyone look around them while they're walking?
some of the birds here are crazy little red things with punk rocker hair - they're very noisy, but lovely and colourful. there are hawks that sit in people's back garden trees. there a squirrels that i swear could mug a man if given half a chance.
and i watched a skunk cross the road towards our house the other night. since the one got run over a few weeks back, the others seem to have improved their pedestrian techniques. they hide under cars til they can't see any lights, then scamper across. they're sort of like lithe badgers. anyway, he crossed the road and ran down the bit of grass between our house and the neighbour's, and was ferreting about the pipes laid out on the ground. i like the idea of skunks ferreting about. do you think ferrets can skunk around?
also, every day pretty much i walk past a black cat who sits on his porch watching passers-by. is it bad luck for the cat, if i cross its path? i asked my housemates this. "of course not," said Bil, "anyway cats don't need luck - they have nine lives."
my friend Ash lives in manhatten - devonshire boy makes good... ash is memorable from uni for dressing up as a pimp to go to his girlfriend's fancy dress party - she went as Barbie - and also for my dad trying to tell him off for yelling "Bollocks" out of the window at my one and only failed attempt at having a party when i was 16.
i'll take my camera, now that it's started working again. you might even get a photo of me this time...
but i doubt it.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
camera seems to be working again, so here's final non-hand-taken pic.
there is SO much wildlife here - it's crazy. and we're TOTALLY surrounded by houses and streets. raccoons cross the street in pairs, and they scamper up trees if people are walking along the pavement. i watched so many people walk straight past this raccoon without seeing it at all. doesn't anyone look around them while they're walking?
some of the birds here are crazy little red things with punk rocker hair - they're very noisy, but lovely and colourful. there are hawks that sit in people's back garden trees. there a squirrels that i swear could mug a man if given half a chance.
and i watched a skunk cross the road towards our house the other night. since the one got run over a few weeks back, the others seem to have improved their pedestrian techniques. they hide under cars til they can't see any lights, then scamper across. they're sort of like lithe badgers. anyway, he crossed the road and ran down the bit of grass between our house and the neighbour's, and was ferreting about the pipes laid out on the ground. i like the idea of skunks ferreting about. do you think ferrets can skunk around?
also, every day pretty much i walk past a black cat who sits on his porch watching passers-by. is it bad luck for the cat, if i cross its path? i asked my housemates this. "of course not," said Bil, "anyway cats don't need luck - they have nine lives."
Saturday, March 06, 2004
last night i cooked "italian" for everyone. they all seem to be alive still, so that's a good sign... it was fun. i even bought token salami for the others to eat. i looked on enviously. damn that meaty goodness... *sigh*
Friday, March 05, 2004
well, today i had 10 under-5 year olds mooing, barking and purring at me. which was nice...
the store that my company owns is just down the road. it's short-staffed at the moment, so some of us are filling in here and there. i went to read the "Find the Cat!" themed story hour.
of course there was one kid trying to crawl under the chair i was sitting in and his mum kept having to drag him out, and another who kept standing in front of the whole book so noone else could see anything at all ("sit down noah" - yeah lady, we've all heard THAT one before), and another kid who asked me why all of our books had ginger cats in them. (actually, we do have a lot of ginger cats in our books, for some random reason, but i had to explain in chrissy-fashion that it was because of today's theme...), and then the cutest kid, who counted about 10 spiders on a page like this: "one, one, one, one, one, one..."
"There's A Billy Goat in the Garden" went down very well, although I quickly realised that the children were enjoying looking for the cat in each picture and making the farmyard animal sounds so much, that they WEREN'T PAYING ATTENTION TO THE PLOT. that damned billy goat could have mauled the entire farm and not one of these children would have batted an eyelid. it's a cold, cold world all right...
anyway, once all that was over i felt relieved but kinda glad i'd done it. then, smoking a cigarette on the 10 minute walk back to work i passed an unconscious homeless man with blood on his face and a huge frostbite gouge on his nose being lifted onto an ambulance stretcher. from the way they were handling him, i don't think he was dead.
the store that my company owns is just down the road. it's short-staffed at the moment, so some of us are filling in here and there. i went to read the "Find the Cat!" themed story hour.
of course there was one kid trying to crawl under the chair i was sitting in and his mum kept having to drag him out, and another who kept standing in front of the whole book so noone else could see anything at all ("sit down noah" - yeah lady, we've all heard THAT one before), and another kid who asked me why all of our books had ginger cats in them. (actually, we do have a lot of ginger cats in our books, for some random reason, but i had to explain in chrissy-fashion that it was because of today's theme...), and then the cutest kid, who counted about 10 spiders on a page like this: "one, one, one, one, one, one..."
"There's A Billy Goat in the Garden" went down very well, although I quickly realised that the children were enjoying looking for the cat in each picture and making the farmyard animal sounds so much, that they WEREN'T PAYING ATTENTION TO THE PLOT. that damned billy goat could have mauled the entire farm and not one of these children would have batted an eyelid. it's a cold, cold world all right...
anyway, once all that was over i felt relieved but kinda glad i'd done it. then, smoking a cigarette on the 10 minute walk back to work i passed an unconscious homeless man with blood on his face and a huge frostbite gouge on his nose being lifted onto an ambulance stretcher. from the way they were handling him, i don't think he was dead.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Monday, March 01, 2004
i'm trying to rethink my routine. up until now i've only been to the supermarket once. i've mainly been living off noodles from store 24, and take out food which (if you buy from the right place) really does last me a good three or four meals. so - i'm not trying to rethink - i'm trying to GET a routine. huh. i never wanted one before.
i went for such a nice walk this weekend, all along the charles river. there's this road called memorial drive that snakes around, and apparently they close it off in the summer, and people just walk and hang out there all day. anyway. the weather has been SO lovely this weekend. i can go out without a hat on, and only my jacket instead of an extra thick woolen under-jacket too... today is lovely too. i must make sure i get out of the office at lunchtime. i feel as though this weekend is the first time i've seen sunlight in 3 months.
anyway. i wish my camera was working, but i'll have to just link to another random picture instead... it's all frozen over at the moment too. so the picture's pretty accurate.
for anyone i've been moaning to about this long poem i'm trying to write about community, you'll be glad to hear that i've finally started writing it in earnest. and it seems to be coming out at a decent pace and things. i expect to get stuck somewhere in the middle, but i think that's alway the way. i love beginnings and i'm good at melodrama and endings. it's all the middling stuff i've never been so good with...
anyway. going to try and drink less too. i've been drunk a lot this last month. ach who am i kidding. well - i said less. okay. i'll try and drink less. don't want to do anything stupid like pretend i'm going to stop or anything...
i went for such a nice walk this weekend, all along the charles river. there's this road called memorial drive that snakes around, and apparently they close it off in the summer, and people just walk and hang out there all day. anyway. the weather has been SO lovely this weekend. i can go out without a hat on, and only my jacket instead of an extra thick woolen under-jacket too... today is lovely too. i must make sure i get out of the office at lunchtime. i feel as though this weekend is the first time i've seen sunlight in 3 months.
anyway. i wish my camera was working, but i'll have to just link to another random picture instead... it's all frozen over at the moment too. so the picture's pretty accurate.
for anyone i've been moaning to about this long poem i'm trying to write about community, you'll be glad to hear that i've finally started writing it in earnest. and it seems to be coming out at a decent pace and things. i expect to get stuck somewhere in the middle, but i think that's alway the way. i love beginnings and i'm good at melodrama and endings. it's all the middling stuff i've never been so good with...
anyway. going to try and drink less too. i've been drunk a lot this last month. ach who am i kidding. well - i said less. okay. i'll try and drink less. don't want to do anything stupid like pretend i'm going to stop or anything...
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