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9.16.2001
Through all of this mess that has developed since tuesday's tragedy, Friday was suprisingly comforting. The thought of people giving blood and donating to various funds shows that we really want to help one another out. The evening's festivity of lighting candles and being outside in good company with the flag displayed everywhere seemed to make everything okay. In the blocks near my apartment, there were families and neighbors out on their front lawns talking and holding candles. On the 101 freeway, there were people gathered on an overpass, proudly displaying our flag, candles, and a huge sign that said something like "honk for freedom, pray for peace." I turned down my music for a second and honked along with the others and even a semi in the right lane - just this little thing made me smile and feel better. Huge crowds gathered on the streets, almost like the Lakers had just won another championship. In a city like Los Angeles, people coming together like this peacefully in any sort of way for any sort of reason makes the human population seem a little less intimidating. So what did we do on Saturday? Went to the L.A. County Fair. It was something like a representation of L.A., yet nothing like the Iowa State Fair, all at once. And since I'm sick of writing, there's pictures...
And a couple more shots from the Sunset Junction street fair... (hmm. bear-ish crowd isn't it?)
9.13.2001
Merriam-Webster's definition of "gross": adj. - glaringly noticeable usually because of inexcusable badness or objectionableness. My definition of "gross": Asian man at gym having a large mole on right side of chin with twelve three-inch hairs growing out of it. 9.11.2001
I will never ever forget what happened this morning. I got out of bed and sat down on the couch with my breakfast and turned on the morning news as usual. Every single station was showing some huge smoking factory building... only soon to be discovered after rubbing my eyes that this was the freaking World Trade Center in New York City. Ok, so it might have been like a airplane engine failure or whatever. But 10 minutes later, I literally dropped my toast on the carpet as the second plane crashes and explodes into the other of the WTC towers. At this time the news people are getting the point that this was done on purpose and then it starts to sink in. On the short drive into work for before-school playground duty, I flip to Howard Stern and hear him shouting that another plane has just smashed into the Pentagon. Even the kids already knew what was going on and kept asking me who did it, where they are going next, how far away is New York, and why that airplane is flying overhead. A fifth-grader arrives to inform me that the WTC has now collapsed and there's smoke everywhere in the city. The death toll hasn't even been completely estimated yet. It can't be any more obvious than today that life is extremely fragile and on this 11th day of September in 2001, thousands upon thousands of innocent people have been killed as the result of a well-planned terrorist attack. What do we do? Well, my campus closed late this morning. I followed the herd of students to north campus where most of the parking is. It was pointless, really. 30,000 students are enrolled. It could be estimated that at least 20,000 were on campus at 10:45am. On a large commuter campus in Southern California, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what a nightmare our parking structure would now be. I flipped on the radio, pulled out a textbook, and inched myself into line where it was every man and woman for themselves. An hour and a half later, I was safe at home playing pool online, trying desperately to get away from the madness. What I most want to do is to just crawl under the covers and go to sleep (preferably with my boyfriends), pretending these incredible events never happened. And since I never got around to mentioning it yesterday, I suppose blogging about the shaker we had in Los Angeles on Sunday would be pretty insignificant now. Me jiggling around while reading my book on the back patio is no comparison to seeing people jumping out of a burning skyscraper. You know, the country is never going to be the same again. 9.10.2001
Our little convenience stores on campus now "proudly brew Starbucks coffee." Now this is fine with me. I can always use some of their breakfast blend before my lengthy 9am classes. Today, however, the large cup seemed too hot to carry with just one of those skimpy cardboard things around it, so I stuck another cup around the first one, surrounded by the cardboard thing. The lady at the register insisted that I was going to use the extra for something else and that I would have to pay like a quarter extra just to use that double cup technique so widely practiced by our beloved Starbucks employees. I insisted it was going to scorch my hand, but she didn't budge. I tossed her my $1.65 and that stupid extra cup, gave an overly-dramatic huff, and walked out. And people wonder why college students get so stressed out... 9.7.2001
The French version of "Kyle's Mom is a bitch" from the South Park movie: Bien.. Kyle est une chienne, elle est un grand gros chienne, elle est le grand chienne dans l'entier large monde. Elle est une chienne stupide s'il y jamais avait une chienne. Elle est une chienne à tout les garçons et filles. Now this is funny. I'm going picture crazy. Here's another from New Orleans last weekend. That's Greg on my right and Keith on my left... notice our kickass hotel in the background?!?
9.6.2001
The trip to New Orleans was fantastic. The three of us travel well together, go out well in public together, frolic (etc. etc.) well in private, and last but not least -- look good doing it. Did that sound a bit pretentious and superficial? Oops. It must be L.A. The heat was only a tad annoying. Doing touristy stuff could only last so long because you begin to sweat from walking so much and in a moment's notice your shirt is saturated with sweat. We managed to ride around on the street cars, passing by the Belfort Mansion (MTV's Real World house), and into a stroll through the garden district. The graveyard/voodoo tour was ok, nothing really impressing except for goofing around during the boring parts. Keith took an extended vacation to spend time with his mom. Greg is at home, and I'm back here at my place as well. It's kind of strange that we're all sleeping alone for these few days. Ahh, back to procrastinating school stuff, back to work, and back to watching the South Park movie on DVD, trying to translate the "Uncle Fucker" lyrics in French.
8.31.2001
Um, so yea, I'm still here and stuff. Why haven't I been writing much lately? I don't really know. Maybe a bit of writer's block, or that anything I could possibly say has been said before and it is just going to come across as being awfully boring. I figured I owe at least one little blog before I leave for New Orleans this evening. Must... get... pictures... School started again this week. I'm already looking forward to December and January, when I will finally get a whole month away from classes. Every semester, the campus becomes more and more like a zoo-slash-airport. The lines for anything (books, food, parking, etc.) are horrendously long and there are crowds of people socializing in all the wrong spots. A picture is worth a thousand words, and if only I had a digital camera, I could take a few snapshots and you'd see precisely what I am talking about. Not only that, the student fashion is starting to tug at my nerves. Most girls are wearing some capri pants type things, brightly-colored tight little baby doll t-shirts, and those three-inch sandals. The "cool" guys all wear $100 skate shoes, baggy shorts, and a Hurley or Quicksilver t-shirt. Oh, and wraparound shades too, of course. Kinda boring, dontcha think? Anyhow, that's probably all from here until next week when I get back to L.A. I'll have a drink for any of you folks that are not doing anything fun this weekend. Cheers! 8.26.2001
Working for the "Y" over the last 2 and a half years or so has been a memorable experience... one that I will soon not forget. When I started, it was pretty laid back. We had a great director and everything went pretty well. Since she left, we progressed through new supervisors who just didn't fit the bill, and the job became less enjoyable. When my school schedule became even more crazy, my hours spent there decreased and so did my motivation for going. Nonetheless, it was always still a pleasure to go in and see the kids. As much as they have nearly driven me insane, it didn't matter on Friday, which was my last official day. I got a big cake and even a little hug and nice words from the current director - aka thanks-for-nothing fat lady. The kids were super-nice to me all day and gave me tons of group hugs. Of course, I played tough guy and pretended like I wasn't going to get emotional or cry. But when I finally walked out and heard that one boys voice in my head, "But I'm gonna miss you....." it became a bit of a tear-jerker. You remember why you are really there in the first place. Moving along though, the fall semester starts up again on Monday. Thank goodness it's my last year as an undergrad. I will be in class about 19 hours a week and be busy doing the usual stuff at my other job with the kids. Bigger and better things are to come. Yesterday was fun. One of the boyfriends and I went to the animal shelter to look for Puss Puss, the cat who's been missing for a week now. He wasn't there, but I was having a blast petting all the lonely kitties and playing with these two puppies during their lunchtime romp. I wanted to keep one so bad... but of course they get bigger and then I wouldn't have a clue where to go with it. 8.23.2001
8.21.2001
Work was just awful yesterday. After the morning shift girls left for the day, it was just me and my boss with the kids for the afternoon. We had already had a pretty decent water fight, so after that we watched a couple movies in the other room. Halfway through the second movie, two 2nd graders come in from her room toting the large dry-erase board and accompanying markers. Apparently, they were relaying the message that I was supposed to draw up this week's schedule on it for the parents to see when they come in, which we do every week. Did she get off her fat ass and walk 30 feet into my room to give me the instructions herself? No. She sent the innocent kids to do it. See, the little boy and girl who brought it in asked me if they could design it. Being the creative and innovative teacher that I am, I thought it would be neater if I just let them do it instead. So, they were given the proper instructions and examples to get started, and away they went. 20 minutes later, the kids watching the movie with me on the floor are getting restless and the little artists are starting on "Wednesday", when in walks the fat lady. She asks me what is going on (obviously referring to the board). I politely tell her that it's pointless for me to design a stupid dry-erase marker board over and over again, especially when the kids were much more excited about doing it than I was. She gives me a what-the-hell-were-you-thinking sort of look and goes on to say how she thought it would be finished by now and that parents are coming in and looking for the board to see what is going on the next day. I ignore the fact that no parents are there and that they never look at the fucking dry-erase board and politely ask her if she just wants me to erase the kids' hard work and do it myself. She then does some more bitchy body language and says, "Yeah, well thanks for nothing!", points her ugly nose in the air, and walks out of the room. I apologize to the two artists and erase their work, while every single other kid in the room suddenly decides it is time to be a brat. Okay, so this really pisses me off and I basically tried to calm the rugrats down by yelling at them, which never works, which makes me even more irritated. The fat lady is in the other room making non-important phone calls. (I've worked there long enough to know there isn't that many important phone calls.) Now, the scenario I envisioned was taking that dry-erase board and designing this creative, innovative, colorful, and large "Fuck You" sign. Then tossing it down on her stupid desk and walking out. But fortunately, I'm not that bitchy or dramatic in real life, so here is what really happened next... The phone magically stopped working. Needless to say, I have already told her friday will be my last official day so it's no big deal. School starts on Monday and I have other work plans. The poor thing looked awfully desperate when I repeatedly turned down her numerous requests for me to come in and help out on days we are low on staff. What a bitch, huh? 8.20.2001
Did anyone hear about this?!? Astounding performance, really. (Yes, it's sports-related) There are six innings in a normal little league baseball game, with 18 possbile outs. This kid from the New York team pitched a perfect game, recording big fat strikeouts on 16 of those 18 outs, with his fastball being clocked at 76 miles per hour. Not only that, hardly anybody even hit a ball into fair territory. And this is a regular occurance - he hasn't given up a run all season long! I'm wondering if he's really only 12 years old, and something tells me I'm not the only one. 8.16.2001
Ohmygod..... some stupid girl not only answered her cell phone, but she is now talking on it. Yep, and I'm sitting in the computer lab at school. |
