I Twist My Hair Back and Forth
The wind is whipping around outside in a way that would make you believe in banshees. Rough, guttural crowing as they swirl around the complex, just waiting for someone foolish enough to brave the cold. I'll be honest, I don't know a lot about banshee lore beyond their howling. I should look it up.
I did. Wikipedia was not a great resource this time.
I also signed up for an insane amount of volunteer opportunities. I think this means I am going to have to learn to commit my time to something other than TV when I am not at work or school. I also need to register for classes for next semester- but I am kind of waiting for grades from this last one. One of the ones I really want to do, because it involves family law, has a kind of involved application and training schedule. Probably because it involves family law. I hope I can be truly empathetic to children. I always fear my natural aversion to motherhood will mean that I actually won't be that great at helping kids in a general sense. I also have the inverse fear that I may come to really love kids because I am working so closely with them and to protect them. I'm hoping for some ambiguous middle-ground. Kids: they're alright. Contrary to the film.
I'll have to work on being more conscious about the way I communicate for sure. No sniping at children who need a court appointed advocate. Fuck, I'm not a complete monster. Just clinically depressed.
So I have been watching 12 Monkeys (the TV series) and I am definitely evolving as far as my taste in men goes, because I think the scruffy tortured lead is kind of cute. I think the tortured part is part of the standard check list. The list used to include long-ish black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. The list now includes accents, long hair, dark eyes, and people of color. When I was young and surrounded by Mexican boys I craved something different. Now, after living Austin for 10 years I just want Luke Pasqualino, circa the Three Musketeers, preferably. He's two years younger though, so I guess I will have to pass- actually. Anyway, that was a huge deviation from my original concern- which is that I don't know if I buy the plot of 12 Monkeys. They've said in the show that they have found cures for several strains of the virus. If that's the case- then why can't they just have their person go back in time and distribute the cure before it's too late? Cut off the mutations that they know? Probably because of complex science- or plot holes. I can't really decide which I feel is more likely.
I am mostly unable to control the temperature of my apartment and by extension my body. It is pretty cold in here tonight but I am pretty sure the heater is on like 90. I also left my phone in a rice cooker earlier. It was not in use, of course, but it took me about 15 minutes to remember where it was.
Today I have re-enforced that I am bad at being a human being in three ways: I ordered steak nachos from Taco Bell (they were exactly what I wanted, but I should not have wanted it- that is a problem in and of itself); I bought toilet paper from a gas-station because I did not want to be out in the cold any longer; my car was finally towed today, and I realized as I left the key under the driver's side floor mat, because I was on my way out to the mock jury thing, that I had a pair of underwear chilling on the passenger's side floor mat.
The mock jury thing was absolutely fabulous, and I got some insight into something lawyers do in like a real firm not doing things in a overly produced way for TV dramas or shows like the one I worked on as a PA. Sometimes, in small ways, I remember I have had a really eventful life. I've been lucky enough to get to do a lot of interesting things. Sometimes I wonder when that luck will run out, I'm sure it tires of operating mostly unacknowledged. My good fortune has raised me in a somewhat warped and perverse way; it's an enabler. Can someone enable themselves under the guise of an intangible concept? I bet a lot of people do. Anyway- the mock jury: FANTASTIC!! There were so many interesting people just talking about themselves- OUT LOUD. TO A ROOM FULL OF STRANGERS.
Shortly after sitting down on a cow-hide love seat (I have come to assume, after sleeping with that one lawyer, and now this, that lawyers are disgustingly attracted to cow-hide things) a woman on the other side of waiting room began to discuss how she recently upset one of her conservative friends. "They must not have known I was from California before I came here," she cackled. "Because she started in against Hillary saying Benghazi was fake and I told her: 'I went to high school with Ambassador Stevens, I know it was real!' Then she asked me to prove it so I pulled out pictures- boy was she freaked out!" Nodding her head in affirmation of herself, she continued to knit her niece a hat. She wasn't quite sure what kind of hat it would be, she hadn't thought that out yet, but she had just started so she had time.
Once we were separated into groups the most interesting woman was placed with me, and I must admit I fell in love. She spontaneously erupted into a story about going antiquing. She quite likes to collect individual salt servers. Apparently, when setting a table, people used to have a large salt server that would feed into personal salt servers that were like tiny shallow circles or squares with tiny spoons. The biggest problem now is finding the spoons. Austin is full of drug addicts and they use the tiny spoons to do their drugs in the most delicate and fabulous way possible. Hipsters in their artisan opium dens. She then went on to talk about having a friend who had a singular long chin hair that she refused to pluck because she wanted to see how long it could grow out. This woman, I worry, is likely what I will become- the chin hair woman. She showered infrequently and was in no way what you would call beautiful, but she had a husband- and an affair! The mock-juror was quite beside herself at her old friend's good fortune with men to have two of them. She reasoned that her friend must be like fish, "you know, when someone serves fish- and it smells awful, but she must have been really good at sex."
I also signed up for an insane amount of volunteer opportunities. I think this means I am going to have to learn to commit my time to something other than TV when I am not at work or school. I also need to register for classes for next semester- but I am kind of waiting for grades from this last one. One of the ones I really want to do, because it involves family law, has a kind of involved application and training schedule. Probably because it involves family law. I hope I can be truly empathetic to children. I always fear my natural aversion to motherhood will mean that I actually won't be that great at helping kids in a general sense. I also have the inverse fear that I may come to really love kids because I am working so closely with them and to protect them. I'm hoping for some ambiguous middle-ground. Kids: they're alright. Contrary to the film.
I'll have to work on being more conscious about the way I communicate for sure. No sniping at children who need a court appointed advocate. Fuck, I'm not a complete monster. Just clinically depressed.
So I have been watching 12 Monkeys (the TV series) and I am definitely evolving as far as my taste in men goes, because I think the scruffy tortured lead is kind of cute. I think the tortured part is part of the standard check list. The list used to include long-ish black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. The list now includes accents, long hair, dark eyes, and people of color. When I was young and surrounded by Mexican boys I craved something different. Now, after living Austin for 10 years I just want Luke Pasqualino, circa the Three Musketeers, preferably. He's two years younger though, so I guess I will have to pass- actually. Anyway, that was a huge deviation from my original concern- which is that I don't know if I buy the plot of 12 Monkeys. They've said in the show that they have found cures for several strains of the virus. If that's the case- then why can't they just have their person go back in time and distribute the cure before it's too late? Cut off the mutations that they know? Probably because of complex science- or plot holes. I can't really decide which I feel is more likely.
I am mostly unable to control the temperature of my apartment and by extension my body. It is pretty cold in here tonight but I am pretty sure the heater is on like 90. I also left my phone in a rice cooker earlier. It was not in use, of course, but it took me about 15 minutes to remember where it was.
Today I have re-enforced that I am bad at being a human being in three ways: I ordered steak nachos from Taco Bell (they were exactly what I wanted, but I should not have wanted it- that is a problem in and of itself); I bought toilet paper from a gas-station because I did not want to be out in the cold any longer; my car was finally towed today, and I realized as I left the key under the driver's side floor mat, because I was on my way out to the mock jury thing, that I had a pair of underwear chilling on the passenger's side floor mat.
The mock jury thing was absolutely fabulous, and I got some insight into something lawyers do in like a real firm not doing things in a overly produced way for TV dramas or shows like the one I worked on as a PA. Sometimes, in small ways, I remember I have had a really eventful life. I've been lucky enough to get to do a lot of interesting things. Sometimes I wonder when that luck will run out, I'm sure it tires of operating mostly unacknowledged. My good fortune has raised me in a somewhat warped and perverse way; it's an enabler. Can someone enable themselves under the guise of an intangible concept? I bet a lot of people do. Anyway- the mock jury: FANTASTIC!! There were so many interesting people just talking about themselves- OUT LOUD. TO A ROOM FULL OF STRANGERS.
Shortly after sitting down on a cow-hide love seat (I have come to assume, after sleeping with that one lawyer, and now this, that lawyers are disgustingly attracted to cow-hide things) a woman on the other side of waiting room began to discuss how she recently upset one of her conservative friends. "They must not have known I was from California before I came here," she cackled. "Because she started in against Hillary saying Benghazi was fake and I told her: 'I went to high school with Ambassador Stevens, I know it was real!' Then she asked me to prove it so I pulled out pictures- boy was she freaked out!" Nodding her head in affirmation of herself, she continued to knit her niece a hat. She wasn't quite sure what kind of hat it would be, she hadn't thought that out yet, but she had just started so she had time.
Once we were separated into groups the most interesting woman was placed with me, and I must admit I fell in love. She spontaneously erupted into a story about going antiquing. She quite likes to collect individual salt servers. Apparently, when setting a table, people used to have a large salt server that would feed into personal salt servers that were like tiny shallow circles or squares with tiny spoons. The biggest problem now is finding the spoons. Austin is full of drug addicts and they use the tiny spoons to do their drugs in the most delicate and fabulous way possible. Hipsters in their artisan opium dens. She then went on to talk about having a friend who had a singular long chin hair that she refused to pluck because she wanted to see how long it could grow out. This woman, I worry, is likely what I will become- the chin hair woman. She showered infrequently and was in no way what you would call beautiful, but she had a husband- and an affair! The mock-juror was quite beside herself at her old friend's good fortune with men to have two of them. She reasoned that her friend must be like fish, "you know, when someone serves fish- and it smells awful, but she must have been really good at sex."
Comments
Post a Comment