Oh, Damn You, Dame Judi!

I just finished watching this movie, Iris, at work (It's quite nice to be able to watch movies at work). Kate Winslet and Judi Dench are very very good in it. Kate Winslet's joie de vivre is infectuous, I feel it in all of her work. Dame Judi Dench plays the vulnerability of losing one's mind to Alzheimer's so well. I think generally she's a very tough, sharp actress, amazing but formidable. Here she is tough and intelligent in the first half of the movie, but lost and alone towards the end. Always amazing.

Anyway, I didn't intend on writing a review of the film, I wanted to comment on how, when I see really great films, and actors working on something that you can see the love of their job and the creativity involved in the job, I get jealous. To watch Kate Winslet revel in the joy of words and emotions as Iris Murdoch, I wanted to steal her body, or just a little of her soul for a while. I want to experience the fulfilment of her creative drive that the movie so obviously brings her. I feel like I never find time to do the writing I want, to the extent that I want. And with that outpouring, I'm going to shut up and get to it. Nothing like a good film to get the envious creative juices flowing. And soon I'll be home for the weekend.

The worst part of my day:

God, bad grammar!! I just had to edit something that read "Come All Ye' Baker's!"
Ummmm, that is so wrong. Why do people toss around the apostrophe like it's a decoration?

Thursday Morning Vacation

Last night as I was leaving work for my grad class I took two steps out of my office and slipped. I don't know if it was on the hem of my pants which still haven't been taken in, or the fact that the shiny linoleum is also slippery, but I busted the hell out of my $4 gray thrift shop heels. I limped brokenly down to the bus and called my mom. I call her whenever I want to whine and bitch and my friends don't want to hear it. Like when I get a paper cut on my way to give an oral presentation that I'm not prepared for, or when I tear my heels, both of which happened in about five minutes last night. She commiserated and asked if I wanted her to bring me a new pair. Ah, the perks of living at home!

But of course, since I was worrying about my oral presentation this gesture of kindness only served to annoy me when it was carried out. She texted me three times to ask what black heels I meant. I only have one pair. She brought three of my black shoes with her, two pairs of boots (neither of which have heels) and the one I'd asked for. When she got to the metro, and just as I was walking up to the car she pulled away, like she was playing some cruel joke. She said she didn't see me and was just moving out of the way for the other car, but I had my suspicions. Then she accused me of smoking, which was doubly unfair because for once I hadn't and had just walked past a man who was, so the smell lingered on me. At least accuse me of it when I actually have been! And when we stopped for dinner in the middle of rush hour and didn't go to a drive thru. I was convinced I'd be screwed, and by my own mother!

But once I got to class my mood improved. I didn't have to go first after all, as I had feared. And my kind professor had brought goodies for us all, including a bottle of wine. Why hasn't someone included wine in oral presentations before? Maybe because after I had only about an inch of wine I could feel it in my face, and started worrying that I'd be slurring my way through my speech. Fortunately, the tipsy feeling passed and I got up and speed talked my way through my ten minute presentation, coming in at 9:30, just as I'd timed it. I think it went well.

I gave myself the day off today--I'm still at work, but not worrying about anything. I'm going to do the crossword, read blogs, maybe watch some tv. I don't have too much actual work today so I'll be taking it easy. (Incidently, I'm really started to get annoyed by the TV companies who won't give in to the writers. Enough already! I want my Tina Fey back!!! The Broadway producers gave in, why can't you??)

Moral Majority & Me

My boss has just been sitting here talking about his children and their many successes in life. I like my boss, he's a nice guy and I'm sure his children are nice too, but I don't want to hear about how all five of them are doing well in life, and are all married, even the ones around my age. The thirty year old is making 6 figures, the next one younger is a very successful horticulturalist and architect or something, married to a woman who just got her PhD. in Molecular Biology. When they moved to Chicago so she could continue school he had jobs lining up to hire him. The youngest was a government employee by the time he was in college. Because he was so good at being a receptionist(!?), they offered him a job.

I sat and listened and thought about my family, my friends, my life. My thirty year old friends don't know what they want out of life, and they certainly aren't married. My family is a mess. My resume does not reflect any brilliant flashes of cubicle cohesion. My GPA is only a smidgen above average. If I ever even saw an out of town job offer I'd be so confused I'd probably throw rocks at it. My boss' family reads like the Christmas newsletter families I barely know send my mother to make us feel bad. I wondered where the black sheep of the family is; was there a sixth child who was disowned because she was single and working as a waitress? Did the youngest drink once too much in that GMU frat house? Did any of them ever try drugs? This family sounds nice, orderly, conventional and boring.

Boring is one word that does not describe my family. In fact, in polite society we are normally referred to as that Byrd Family. It used to bother me when I was younger that we were always the odd ones out. We never had matching fluffy towels and didn't live in a McMansion with beige carpets which my prepubescent self thought was so important to decency and moral order. We had an old manse house where the pipes froze one winter, forcing us to place jugs of water by the toilet for flushing purposes, and go over to neighbors for showers. We had a minivan whose upholstered roof began to unstick itself and hang like a curtain, brushing our heads. Eventually we removed the upholstered part altogether and rode around with the metal frame of the roof as our only barrier. We were the ones who didn't have a television until I was ten, so we created epic storylines with our Barbies, constructing tent houses for them out of those mismatched towels, and imagined dust angels swirling around our ankles when we stepped into the silty creek bottoms and knew every child safe movie made up through the Seventies, because that's what we were allowed to watch. We were the ones who lived in an old house behind the McMansions, with a chair lift for my grandmother that all of us kids would ride simultaneously for the fun of it.

Boring is not a word that describes my friends, either. Pouring dishsoap into fountains to see what happens, having spontaneous Chinese dinners, serving microwave s'mores at 2 am, sewing clothes while sitting around in her underwear, moving to Europe for the experience, moving to another country for love, getting yelled at by Belgian conductors, taking road trips up to New York for the hell of it, or to the mountains to capture the perfect summer day, these are not the things of normal people. These are not the things my boss would be bragging about if it were his children, but these are the things that will save us from the life he does brag about.

All of my favorite people are a little unusual, they do things a little oddly and laugh a little too loudly. They plan poorly but execute splendidly. Anyone who gets anywhere does it by not being conventional. Think about it. What actor, writer, inventor or artist gets where they are by being a conventional person? Since I don't plan on living a life of convention why would I care to compare myself to the people who do? Nothing wrong with those people, but I don't want to be one. Now that I've been unconventional for so long I've gotten used to it and I think I'd like to continue. It's more fun here, on the fringe, where you're allowed to dream about being an artist and make up your own games. I want us to keep being the strange ones, the ones without a plan, but having a lot of fun. Let's burn burn burn and never settle down. We'll be Jack Kerouac, Dorothy Parker, Oscar Wilde and Pablo Picasso all rolled into one.

What A Girl Wants

Ha. Ahem, Hmm. Just when I think I'm growing up and getting better at the man game I get thrown for a loop. A Fruit Loop. My new gay best friend, Jason? Turns out we're best friends for a different reason--because he's bi and has a crush on me. I mean, this guy seems so gay he's got pink flames shooting out his fingertips and he has a crush on me? First off I'm flattered. When I think of men, or women that would be attractive enough to make a person go in a certain direction that maybe they don't always go in, I am not on the top of that list. Secondly, I'm curious, partially for the reasons stated above, why am I of interest? And also because he's 35. I kinda feel cool. Thirdly, though, I'm worried that he'll make a move that I can't reciprocate and I will lose a new friend.
I know generally women bemoan the fact that a cute, cool guy is gay, but today I'm bemoaning the fact that he's not gay enough. Because then I wouldn't have to worry that I was going to hurt his pride, feelings or anything else. I don't really have a problem dating a bi guy (umm, I've done it before, without great results but that's not my fault, I don't think.) but I'm not interested in Jason in that way, and I feel like I've just been stuck with an adorable puppy, one who brings me my slippers and waits for me to get home, but I'm just too much of a cat person to appreciate it.

I'm wondering if we can just keep this a friendship. Of course, I was also wondering that last night, when I was picking out what to wear tonight when we go out for sushi. I was trying to tell myself that it's just because I don't want to look schlumpy in the city after a day at work and around a new friend, who since he's a little gay, has a good style. But part of it feels like this is a date, and even if it's a date with a gay man it's the first date I've been on in so long that dressing up for it is fun.

He came over after Thanksgiving, when all my friends had stopped by to escape from their families, and hang out with friends. He brought his Wii, which made the party, and extra alcohol, which helped. Then he stayed late to clean up with me, take out the trash and put away leftovers. Aja, who was still there when he took out the trash just looked at me with a smirk. I knew what she was thinking but I didn't want to believe it. Now, after discussing the possibility with The Pea as well, I think I have to face facts. My new gay best friend is in love with me. Sigh. Maybe we could get a spot on Sally Jessy Rapheal.

You've Come A Long Way, Baby

I just watched this Grey's Anatomy episode online, since I have no work to do. It was all about how we never really get over high school, even as we grow up and move on as adults, a part of us is still stuck in the mold high school shoved us into. I guess that is partially true. Whenever I get together with people I knew then, gossip about high school and what's happened since reigns. It's like nothing else will be as big as high school, until maybe we all start having kids. I don't know if it's just an American construction, or if it's because high school involves a bunch of different kids living through their formative years together, like a huge petri dish, but it does stay with you.

I hated high school. Hated it. I thought it was a major waste of my time, not because I didn't think I needed an education, but because I didn't think I was getting one. I was mostly getting busywork. I would never want to repeat it, even if I could go back in time with my current knowledge. I'd still feel like a mouse. I spent so much time and energy re-inventing who I wanted to be that I'm sure people thought I was strange. I was seeking that magic combination, the one where I instantly transform into someone who doesn't care what others think, and is also admired by everyone. I think that was important for me, I discovered who I wanted to be, who I was, and who I could never be. That is something I still have, a knowledge of who I am and who I could never be.

At the same time, I don't think I'm trapped by it. I think some people can be so traumatized by how they were treated in high school that they can't see what they've become. They can't see what everyone who has met them since sees. I guess that's why realizing that my friends are not only cool looking but also cool people made me so happy the other night. Sometimes I stop and observe and without realizing it, compare them to high school. That's when I notice how far I've come. In high school I would have never dreamed I could have such friends. I would have felt inadequate and shy. And because they're older I would have felt that difference much more than I do now. But I also think that the really cool people, the coolest ones out there today, were not the ones you thought of as popular or hip in high school. So maybe my friends that I think of as cool and stylish and smart and funny would have been just as awkward as I was then. We've grown into ourselves and the changes are nice. It makes us better people.

Now I can make friends and feel like they want to be my friend for a reason. In high school I never thought that. Or at least, I was always a little suspicious. And friends that I've made since then, that I knew in high school, but never spoke to, have revealed themselves to be different than what I expected. I don't think I live in a clique, like Grey's made it out to be. I think that I do have a circle of friends and there are some people that aren't part of that circle, but because we don't have that friendship chemistry. We're not of the same tribe. They have their own circle. I don't think anyone looks at me and thinks, I wish she'd be my friend, but she's a popular snob. If you fit with me I'll be your friend. I spent too much time in high school worrying about being "cool" and missing out on great friends around me by not talking to them.

High school remains an important part of our lives, sometimes it is to our detriment, sometimes it is for our betterment. But I don't think that Grey's has it exactly right. I think we do get past it, we do move on. Even if we keep the friends we had then we can add new ones, ones we wouldn't have had before. And we grow into people who are fascinating because of the differences that high school points out so clearly.

Wrap Up

Ahh. Ohh. Ugh. I am totally wrecked after this weekend. I planned on it being a calm, sleepy sort of time. Nothing too much to do, no big plans like Boston or New York. Just hanging out. Most likely in Reston. That didn't exactly happen. I hung out at Matt and Mark's on Friday, with a group of their friends, mostly from high school. Aja and I ended up on the couch giggling over boys and their ridiculousness, after the old high school friends left and it was just the normal group still there. Paul brought over s'mores to make in the microwave, and then treated us with ginger snap cookies he'd also made. Jackson, Matt's new friend who fits right in with the group, and his ex girlfriend from West Virginia, Scarlett came over and made a nice addition to the group.


Saturday I've already mentioned. Sunday I went to dinner with Spencer, my friend from high school. We went to Thai and talked faster than our brains could keep up. I don't remember it all, but it was philosophical and deep.


Monday I was tired and scratchy at work. My voice is almost gone and I didn't get nearly as much sleep as I planned this weekend.

Tuesday I stayed home sick. I got as far as the Park & Ride on Whiele and got off, called my boss and went home to bed. As soon as I'd be happily drifting off something would wake me up. First it was Sadie coming to join me, then it was Jason calling to chat. Finally I gave up and got up.

I spent the day relaxing and cooking. I've invented a new recipe, pumpkin pie baklava. I brought over the remainer of my test batch to Matt and Mark's where Scarlett put us all to work making Chinese and Vietnamese dinner. Paul came over and then Alan, their friend from high school came by. He'd just gotten home from L.A.

Today we get to leave work at 2, so I'm wrapping things up and excited to go home. I still feel sick and I need some more sleep.

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old.

Last night I went out with The Designer, Matt, Mark, Jackson, Scarlett and Paul to Be Bar in DC. I didn't plan on going out, I went into DC to get my hair cut at Urban Style Lab where my friend Jackie works and then I hung out with Chris Nixon for the rest of the afternoon, going out to eat, hanging at the place where he's dogsitting. Then, I went to meet up with everyone in DC. I didn't plan on going out, but I always plan on looking good, so it wasn't too much of a problem, except that I was wearing my beautiful wedge heeled boots. Beautiful, but not practical for all night dancing. I also forgot my ID and wore the stylish XXX for the evening.

Be Bar is fun and pretty, and filled with pretty people, but not too pretentious, just a little pretentious. And, about 95% gay, as I was sad to discover. It was mostly gay guys and fruit flies. But the dancing was good, and the DJ one of the best. I had a great time despite my underage status.

After the bar closed the party continued. We made our way to Annie's Steakhouse, where we were greeted by the rest of the underground late night partiers in DC. When I went to the bathroom a coiffed drag queen in ruffled teal blue stepped out with a sneer, leaving me facing the toilet seat in its upright and locked position. "Thanks, lady." I muttered.

Jason, my new friend that I met at Be Bar, and I sat at the bar while everyone else, and some extras crowded around various tables. We exchanged life stories and made friends with the flaming bartender, Julio, who livened up the early morning crowd with his extravagant personality, and sang for us along with the stereotypical gay disco music playing over the speakers.

I love going out when I don't expect it, and making good friends in the course of a night. I love feeling like I fit into the decor of a pretty place, and I love looking at my friends and realizing that they are hot shit. It's vain, I know, but it's an ego boost that I used to never imagine possible. It's part of the fun of being an adult without yet acquiring most of the responsibilities. I love crawling into bed as the sky lightens, after dancing until my feet ache.

The Thinker

So apparently my friend The Designer has nicknamed me "The Thinker" and our other friend The Pea. Well, as my brother always says, that's better than "The Stinker."

Tomorrow: My trip to Boston and New York. For reals y'all.

The Sun Shines Through

I had a feeling of doom laying low in my stomach for much of yesterday. It rested there and wasn't bothered by the bouncing of the bus as I made my way to Mason for my conference with Professor Jann. It was bothered slightly by rambunctious children in their costumes, riding the bus with me, but not enough to go away and leave me. I was early for my meeting and so I killed some time in the Fenwick library, the library on campus that makes me happy and comfortable in its dusty world of knowledge and mediocre mid-Sixties design.

I made my way up to the English department on the 4th floor of Robinson A. As I clomped up the stairs I was reminded of something one of my professors said while struggling up to the top floor, where they'd ensconced the literary nuts like him. It made me smile. Standing outside my professor's door, eavesdropping on her conference with a classmate and reading the fliers, comics and political statements of my previous professors, made my heart stop racing.
In Professor Jann's office her commonsense and cheery disposition frightened the feeling of doom away. Listening to her comments on my paper, which were pretty good for a rough draft to receive, made me feel capable again, and her ideas and way of listening to mine made me feel intelligent and almost like a peer. She laughed at my description of my Halloween costume and when I told her a friend couldn't believe I had a conference on tonight of all nights.

Leaving her office full of determination and focus I marveled at how hearing someone's experienced opinions could calm me. When I'm all alone with my fears and inadequacies I tend to burrow into them, letting them cover and suffocate me without fighting back. Professor Jann and other professors I've had, are like a bright light shining through. She's like my Gandalf, if you will, shouting down the Balroq (Oh man, that's so geeky). And now I have an amusing vision of this thin, fairly plain, older professor with twinkling blue eyes (very much like Gandalf's!) in a robe and carrying a staff.

Here's some quotes about failure to cement my position as today's resident literary geek:

Don't be discouraged by a failure. It can be a positive experience. Failure is, in a sense, the highway to success, inasmuch as every discovery of what is false leads us to seek earnestly after what is true, and every fresh experience points out some form of error which we shall afterwards carefully avoid." -John Keats

The men who try to do something and fail are infinitely better than those who try to do nothing and succeed. ~Lloyd Jones

Panic at the thought of doing a thing is a challenge to do it. ~Henry S. Haskins

I would sort out all the arguments and see which belonged to fear and which to creativeness. Other things being equal, I would make the decision which had the larger number of creative reasons on its side. ~Katharine Butler Hathaway

The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear - fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety. ~Henry Louis Mencken

There is a time to take counsel of your fears, and there is a time to never listen to any fear. ~George S. Patton

Many of our fears are tissue-paper-thin, and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them. ~Brendan Francis

There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them. ~Andre Gide