Hello Blogees and Blogettes,
I promised myself I would not say the word blog or pun-like versions of the word blog in my blog, but I have broken that promise. 5 times in this post alone.
So my last post promised that this post would talk about: My dichotemy. But four months later, this post says to the last post... Whadthufukizmydichotemy??? Therefore, a change in topic will be made... once I think of something to write about.
First thing that comes to mind...
If you are reading this blog because you went to Google and typed "George Bush" or "eating a kitten", please leave a comment. We could be great friends. If you are reading this blog because you went to Google and typed "George Bush eating a kitten", I beg you to leave a comment. We could be great lovers.
The second thing that comes to mind is that I need to show you something...
Quote of Many Weeks Ago: "For thirty years, I not know whether I am man or woman. But I find out. I am man." -also Mr. Buns
The conversations Mr. Buns and I have... are often nonsensical, even to me. But sometimes they are cool. The other day he told me about three huge, hand carved statues of Buddha that were in Afghanistan; one of the three was even taller than the statue of Liberty. But the statues were all bombed and destroyed by the Taliban, and he was so disappointed that they would destroy something that was created with great labor for a great purpose merely out of anger. I thought that was a tragic, but precious story. Then moments later while I was doing the dishes, he came around the corner, said the quote of the week, then walked away. Straight from sensical to non-sensical in less than a few minutes.
So long time no blog, right? Well here's a recap of the weeks we've missed. Papers and projects. Thousands of bagels. Sleep and no sleep. Mooovies!
Also during the time we have not spoken to one another, an interesting happening happened. I was watching "I Am Legend" on HBO... yeah yeah cable!... digital conversion try and get me now! I'd never seen "I Am Legend" before, but several people told me what it was about; however, I was still frightened. Towards the end of the movie, Dan came over cuz we were about to go to the gym. As the movie ended, and the zombie cries faded from the tv speakers, but I could still faintly hear the zombies' cries. Dan became silent, then looked at me, and clearly he still heard them too. But from outside! We figured it was a protest though, not a zombie apocalypse. So we left for the gym early in hopes that we'd catch the scene. Sure enough, there was a hoard of people walking down Halsted, signs and megaphones aplenty. It was around the day that Prop 8 was repealed and that's what they were protesting. The protestors were holding signs that said, "I can't vote NO to YOUR marriage" and "DOMA = Epic Fail". Not gonna lie, had to google DOMA (defense of marriage act)... and once I did, I felt silly cuz it's pretty obvious given the situation. The protestors were heading the direction we needed to go, so... Dan and I joined the protest in order to skip two traffic lights. I felt it wasn't shameful for two reasons: 1) The moment I jumped into the protest, I was committed. I boldly chanted with the crowd, "Gay, Straight, Black, White, marriage is a civil right!" And I meant it. 2) Though it was our intention to only remain in the protest briefly, every second of support is helpful to the cause, right? My Ethics professor would be proud... hopefully.
Also. I've listened to Copeland's "You are my Sunshine" roughly 2.3 million times in the weeks we have not spoken.
Next Blog's Topic: My dichotemy.
In my 3D Foundations class, our first assignment was to create a cardboard chair. Basic guidelines: Chair must be able to withstand our own weight (because we had two weeks, crash dieting seemed like a good idea). And we could only use hot glue and two sheets of 30"x40" cardboard. Though I made a lot of different sketches, I narrowed it down to two: An orby looking chair, or a chair of books and papers and other random things you can pile up and sit on.
I think it's pretty clear that I chose to make the chair of books and such. It now sits atop my refrigerator, not as a means of display... but that does seem fitting because it's where a lot of student art projects end up. But because I actually own a chair, it does not currently serve a functional purpose in my apartment. I want to keep it and possibly use it as a side table in the future. For now, however, it remains atop the refrigerator, kind of on display, but mostly so I don't step on it or accidently destroy it.
Thus far, I have enjoyed 3D foundations more than 2D foundations, if only there was a 4D foundations class. I'm sure that class would be out of this world. Mwaha. Ha. I've definitely been planning that joke since the beginning of this blog.
Now for two interesting stories from this weekend.
On Saturday, Dan and I planned a typical trip to the gym, but while walking to his apartment, I called and requested that we stay outside cuz it was all sunny and nice. Dan's apartment is right next to the lake, so we jogged on the path next to the lake from his place all the way downtown... which I think ended up being about 2 miles. By the time we got there, it was dinnertime and we was quite the hungry. The first place we found that we thought wouldn't kick us out for being in our sweaty, jogging clothes was a hot dog place. I got a turkey burger though... and it was juicy and not too hot and therefore delicious. While there, we found a picture of a dog that looked like our assistant manager in dog form. It was uncanny. We started to jog back, but that didn't last. But as we walked the rest of the way home, we got to have a nice, long chat and chill alongside the lake. Pretty cool evening. And we decided to buy bikes. Cuz bikes in Chicago lead to a good time.
The next interesting story came when I left for work the next morning. Because I leave for work a little before 2 in the morning, I get to see the bar-goers as they're cooling down and heading home. I passed two guys and a girl smoking outside of a club, and one of the guys tapped my shoulder. This is actually not uncommon due to the increased social-ness that alcohol often brings. But this guy said, "Hey... I know you". That's not as common. I turned to him, studied his face as well as his friends' faces, but nothing clicked. So I grumbled a half asleep "uuhhh", shook my head, and continued walking. I could hear him talking to his friends, saying "she thinks I'm crazy", and then he tried it again. "Beltrice?" I don't remember the exact name he guessed... but it did begin with a 'B' and it was not a common name. I turned back to him, shook my head again, and kept walking. He talked to his friends again, then yelled "I've got it! Einstein Brothers! Evanston!" I was shocked! He really DID know me. I turned around and gave him a nod and a thumbs up. Haha. I laughed about it randomly throughout the day. He must be a frequent customer, but not a regular... cuz I'd recognize a regular. He doesn't really know me and I don't really know him, but we're very aware that each other exists. Somewhere, he's out there. I'm sure of it.
Food for Thought: I wonder if anyone has thought to name their child Stan, but spell it Sdan so their child's name backwards would be "nads".
And Good Afternoon too!
You ready to read my list of grievances?
Ok, then skip this baby and wait to read the next blog.
This morning I only had paper 1 out of 4 completed. Then I went to my first class. In my first class, I was reminded that I have another paper due next Tuesday. I took one step forward, and then was pulled right back! However, I finished another paper awhile ago and now I am up to 2 out of 5!
That feeling of working and working but never really accomplishing anything is wretched. I don't feel that way with my art projects or when I do creative writing. I definitely feel that way with papers though... they serve no greater purpose to me besides allowing me to pass my classes.
But I also feel that way about my job, which is unfortunate because it takes up the majority of my time. My job takes a toll on my personal self worth. My personality is largely to blame for that, however. Because if I am given a job, I want to do my best and I want to push myself to create the best result I can give out of respect for my employer. However, I personally do not respect my specific position. Though bagels are delicious and important to many people's breakfasts, they do not hold a position of importance or high regard in my mind. Sorry bagels and bagel lovers. So I work hard... cuz someone is paying me (which I really appreciate) to take care of something they truly care about and I would hope someone would give me the same courtesy if I were paying them to do the same. However, I work 40+ hours and commute 10 hrs per week and accomplish... just money... (Luckily I have made good friends too).
Money is more of a necessity than an accomplishment in my opinion. Friends are delightful. And they have honestly been the reason I have enjoyed my year of bagelness. The interesting stories have kept me coming back for more as well. But. Two of those three things have changed in the past month.
My friends are all leaving. The bagel world has shit on them too many times and they are ready for a detox and a fresh start at a new job. The busy season has started and the bad stories now outweigh the good. And money is not important enough to keep me at Einstein Brothers for much longer.
I had an interview yesterday at Ann Taylor Loft on Michigan Avenue! Though I don't have retail experience, I do have managerial experience, and that's always a plus. Will I get the job? Answer unknown. But the possibility keeps me hopeful. Obviously, it's no career, but I actually love roaming from menial job to menial job. I learn so many fun stories and meet lots of new people from my menial jobs. I also gained a whooole lot from working those menial jobs. Case in point: Marcus (Auntie Anne's) Dan (Einsteins).
Solution to my work grievances: Restricitons. Part-time. No more full time. And no more long commute. I'll only take on managerial responsibilities as long as my other restrictions are not compromised. And that's it! Too simple.
I know that once these restrictions are met, I'll be content with my menial job once again.
Dance of the Day: The rigaudon! Also spelled Rigadoon, it is a sprightly 17th-century French folk dance for couples.
Everybody git yo' rigaud-ON!!!!!
Courier was born and raised in Wales. This is a little snippet of his life in 1817; he was 17 years old: I have lived a privileged life, for my father is a wealthy nobleman and we have never been without enough money. My mother,a wretched tyrant of my education, makes sure I have only the best tutors and will not allow me to eat supper til I am through with my studies. Mother did allow me some fun as a child; cricket was my game of choice. None of my peers could deny my skill on the cricket field. I believed I should have been the captain of my team when I was in my fifteenth year, but my coach was a horrible prat and chose another boy a year older than I for the position. I quit the team and devoted my time to my studies. You won't see me near that daffy game again. Unfortunately, mother has become increasingly more controlling of my affairs since I quit. I do hope she allows me to spend time in the country this summer with my cousins. Though it is likely that she will not, and I will spend my summer in the study, practicing penmanship.
A likely story, eh? I should put it on wikipedia.
So, I said this entire post would consist ENTIRELY of font talk, but that just isn't going to happen. These past few weeks have been too full, I need a little blog time to update.
To start, I've been harboring a homeless person in my apartment for two weeks now. Last night was his final night of homelessness; he'll be moving into an apartment this afternoon! Good for him. I suppose it's only right that I mention this homeless person is not a stranger. And that he is also gay, so Marcus did not frown upon him sleeping in my apartment for two weeks.
Some of the low points of the two weeks: In an attempt to pass off the keys from him to me during a period of time when we were both busy, Dan hid my keys in a cup in an alley. The keys and the cup were never found. $75 was spent getting new keys, boo. Then there was the night I had to make a functioning chair out of cardboard; scratching, scraping, and cutting are not easy noises to sleep through I am told. Yes, those were the low points.
High points! One night we both woke up randomly at 2 in the morning and turned on the tv just in time to catch the last half of Sweeney Todd! We also declared that the crazy lady who sings about "mischief! mischief!" is indeed, Dan's reincarnated in a musical character... well, her mixed with a little Macy Grey. More high points have included several trips to the gym in an attempt to become healthy... ish... and dancing to Passion Pit.
All in all, I'm going to miss the homeless man who has been living in my apartment. Though I'm sure I'll see him around.
Word of the day: Sinification
Meaning: To sinicize
Used in a sentence: I would use the word sinification more if I knew what it meant to sinicize.
Let's start with Barry. Barry was once a great athlete and could have any woman he wanted, or so he told me. Everyday in fact. But Barry was a victim of his own conceit. One day he decided to buy a cat for a girl whom he admired, even though she was someone else's girlfriend. This act lead to the event that would form Barry into the man I knew. The boyfriend was not pleased with how his girlfriend received her precious, new kitty, and he wanted Barry to know that his gift was not acceptable. So he found Barry, but first he found the bat he would hit against Barry's head. Once the two had been found, Barry's life changed forever. The details of this story are blurred; Barry was very forgetful, which he blamed on the beating. Through it all he still remained very conceited. Appartently a good beating doesn't change everything about you. His final day at Einstein Brothers involved the police, accusations of physical abuse, stealing, and excalmatory phrases such as "Racist Bitch". If you're gonna go, better go all out, and that is most certainly what Barry did.
Barry was fired merely a few weeks after his good friend, Kelly, quit. Quitting can be subtle way to bow out or it can be a means to leave a job for something better. Kelly did a mixture of both. Kelly became our baker at a time when we desperately needed his help. He was a little unfocused, but that didn't really matter, as I said... it was a desperate measure. Unfortunately, our General Manager was a little quick to hire him due to the desperateness of the situation, and she did not perform his background check straight away. Once it came back, it was confirmed that he was indeed a felon. And therefore he had lied on his application. But. Einstein Brothers was still desperate, and he kept his job. No, Kelly left Einsteins out of his own free will. A girl he had been seeing, but didn't really like, was given 5000 dollars from her very wealthy uncle. He heard this news and realized how much he liked her. However later that night while they were hanging out, he forgot just how much he liked her when he left her and Chicago with the 5000 dollars. We needed a new baker after that night.
They were crazy characters. I kinda miss 'em.
*SPECIAL*: The next blog will consist entirely of font talk. Font talk is probably not what you think it is... Or maybe it IS what you think it is.... You'll have to read it to find out.