Flights of Fancy

So March is a lame month, what can I say? It's tax season?

I've been trying to get some things in order around here so that every entry isn't "whine whine this" and "whine whine that." I'm happy to say that I've had some success. This apartment is clean (well, I haven't gotten to the bathroom yet). I've dusted, vacuumed, taken out three big bags of trash... who says that cleaning your house can't be a metaphor for life?

I stopped whining about it and started reading again. I'm currently reading a book called Pawn of Prophecy, the first in a series. It's a fantasy book, which means I would probably get a lot of mocking sneers if I didn't desperately try to covertly cover the title with my hands while riding the public transportation to work. Either you like fantasy or you don't, and if you don't, you're likely to think that the person reading it is a leper. You can enjoy Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, but you had better keep it mainstream... or else!

On a radically different note, don't you hate how once you cut your hair you instantly regret it? Beforehand it's all you can think about. You ask everyone you know for their opinion. Some people say "don't do it," some say "of course!"... whatever they say only emboldens you that you must do this. The sooner the better! Don't waste any more time!

Then it's all over. You're left with a haircut that is too short even to put it all up without little pieces falling down. Alright, alright, I have to bring it back to me. I'm left with this short hair. Wearing it the way I've always worn it (curly) now just looks like a sad clown wig. A friend suggested I dye it rainbow colors to complete the look; sure, what have I got to lose? Now I have to straighten it with a flat iron every day.

At first people love it straight. They're blown away. They probably think, "WOW! She doesn't always look like a sad clown!" Or, "Gee, she looks great without that frizzy powder puff on her head." But people are fickle (like me for cutting my hair), and the novelty has worn off. Now I just look like any other straight haired girl riding the straight haired metro. What's one more girl with flat, straight hair? Whoopty-do!

At least when it was curly it was "different." Anyone know where I can get some miracle grow? Or perhaps some little green seed paste, leave my head in water overnight, and in the morning it can be "Cha-Cha-Cha-Chia!"

Like-Roots

I finished White Teeth. I felt a little unclear about the end, so if anyone has read it or is planning on reading it, let me know your thoughts!

I thought this story I read on the Washington Post was also somewhat timely in relation to my reading White Teeth. The article is about a young woman who was born through artificial insemination. I don't think she holds anything against her mother, or at least not as much as she holds against her "father," but she's not pleased about the way she was brought into the world.

She describes that people aren't born in a vacuum, and sperm donors don't think that what they're doing actually creates people with thoughts and feelings. It creates people who will be affected by the genetics of their parents and who want to know the history of where they came from.

Zadie Smith also deals with history and getting to the root of things. Her characters I don't think ever quite make it there, although they want to. The girl in the article doesn't make it there, even though she found her father. For someone like me who also wants to get to the root, who searches for answers about the past, who can't tie up history in a neat bow (because if I did, I would just unwrap it, poke at it, rewrap it, and repeat the cycle), I think it would be very difficult for me not to have that key piece of information (father, family, who am I).

Not that I even know that much about my father now. He offers very little about his life or his family. I can see him, I can trace the lines of my face that are directly from him. It's not a whole picture, but I'd rather see than not see.

I hope everyone is having a good countdown to the holidays. It's hard getting through work this week, especially noticing how fewer and fewer people are on the train each day. I'm planning which Christmas cookies I'd like to make. My rather excessive list for a family of four consists of:

Pumpkin Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
Russian Teacakes
Magic Bars
Peanut Butter Blossoms

Keep the turkey/ham/bread pudding or whatever else you have; I adore Christmas cookies.

Happy "Hump Day"

Nuts

I'm almost done with White Teeth by Zadie Smith. It's been great, but I find that when I'm in the midst of reading a book I begin to see and feel like the author. Everything becomes ultra bright, visual and sensitive. I feel poetic about pigeons fighting over breadcrumbs or plastic bags caught in a gust of wind. I speak less and listen more; I pretentiously observe passersby or fellow train riders and imagine whatever broken home or loveless relationship that strikes my fancy.

Over the weekend I was lucky enough to observe a funny moment. I wasn't so lucky yesterday. And even if I wasn't busy writing the great American novel in my head as I drag myself through the city, I think it still would have bothered me a lot.

Waiting for the train at the end of the day sucks. You just want to be home. You don't want to wait, you don't want to hear that the train is having technical problems and will be 10 minutes late... you just want to call your spouse/significant other and play the "what's for dinner?" game. Last night the train was 6 minutes later than usual. When it arrived, everyone scrambled towards the door as usual. I took my spot just to the side of the door, but one brave (or stupid, or just not thinking) woman stood directly in front of the door with her briefcase on wheels stretched out behind her. That was the first mistake. The second mistake was that the second the train doors opened, this woman tried to dart in instead of waiting for everyone to exit first.

Well, the young woman waiting to get off the train wasn't having any of this. In my hypothetical novel I imagine that maybe her boss just took some serious shit out on her at work, but in reality I have no idea. Woman waiting to get off the train screams, "FUCK! Can't you just wait for me to get off the fucking train first?! JESUS CHRIST!" And simultaneously with the yelling of "Jesus Christ" came a swift and hard kick to the other woman's briefcase on wheels and she stormed off.

I think it's a combination of the author in me as well as my sensitivity to verbal violence which caused this incident to seriously upset me. On the ride home I sat diagonally from the woman who without a doubt, thank you law school, was victim to an assault and battery. She was younger than middle aged, maybe. She was South Asian. She was completely silent.

I don't know what it is about public transportation, or even private transportation, that enrages people so much that they explode. Maybe it's not the transportation, it's just the icing on the cake after a long day of being shit on. You wake up to shit transportation, spend 8 hours of shit job, and at the end of the day you've reached your breaking point. But everything we do has so many consequences spiraling out like purple veins.

I wish I could focus on the funny or absurb, but there's so much anger in this city hidden just beneath the surface.

A Weekend to Remember

Friday night I was supposed to meet up with Jen, my friend from law school last year. After I got home from another fun 5pm meeting, I gave her a call. She was with another friend in the area, and that friend wanted to go get her nails done.

I felt a little dumped on. I thought it was my night to have Jen all to myself. And you know how I feel about getting nails done (or you can probably guess, based on my eyebrow rants). Two hours lately she was finally done watching her friend get her nails done, and the friend was now coming to dinner with us.

We met up at one of my favorite places for fun, Rock Bottom. Jen and I used to go to the one in Pittsburgh all the time, especially at key times such as during midterms or finals. We had some dinner, drinks and lots of laughs. But Jen's friend started losing her voice and getting sicker than apparently she had been the rest of the week. So they left; she didn't see my apt, and we didn't even get a picture or two together. I was bummed, and I was slightly intoxicated... not my favorite combination.

I know that she's living in South Carolina now and she doesn't get to see people often. She has to try to get in as many people as she can when she's around; that doesn't mean I have to like it. I had a great time with her. I forgot how easy she is to talk and joke with. I missed hearing her constant laugh. Any irritation at her friend is purely just jealously because I wanted more time.

Our friend Ray was supposed to come up for the weekend as well. He backed out because he said he had to finish working on his graduate level thesis. Boyfriend and I have a strong love and appreciation for academia, so of course we didn't balk when he started to waver. Also, I learned that I'm thanked on his acknowledgments page. That brings my number of thesis thank-yous to two graduate level theses and one undergraduate level thesis. I wouldn't hate being a professional muse, or at least a thesis muse... as long as it's nothing like Sharon Stone in that awful 1999 movie 'The Muse.' Turns out Ray just wanted to spend some quality time with his new girlfriend. Well, I guess that's forgivable too.

And it all worked out swimmingly, because I had one of the best weekends ever.

Saturday I convinced boyfriend to go to my favorite mall near us and finish up some Christmas shopping. Their holiday decorations were amazing, and I really enjoyed everything about being there. It was crowded, but not as bad as the mall we went to the weekend before. It was big, but not so big that it felt overwhelming.

Our friend Jeff happened to be in DC visiting some art shows he wanted to see. He metroed over to the mall and we all enjoyed a delicious Thai dinner. I got them to go to the Hallmark store outside with me, and I finally found the perfect gift for boyfriend's mother - A Very Merry Trio. It's a snowman and two penguins, and then dance to music and rattle bells.

Anyone remember Billy the Big-mouthed Bass? Most people bought him as a joke gift or for someone they really didn't like. My boyfriend's mother got it because she thought it was great. She also has singing stuffed dogs, a witch portrait that sticks out its tongue and makes fun of you when you walk buy, a talking/singing Frankenstein door knocker, and lots of other things I'm trying to forget. My only hope is that she doesn't buy A Very Merry Trio before I can give it to her.

Well if having my two favorite men as shopping buddies wasn't great enough, we also went to Cold Stone Creamery, watched my nudey neighbor for awhile, and played some XBOX. Truly a night to remember.

On Sunday we made a quick and decisive trip to the grocery store. Also, I got boyfriend to agree to take me to see 'The Holiday.' I was just in one of those romantic comedy moods. I didn't want anything that would shatter my world, just some mindless, fun entertainment at the theater. We race there to make it in time. The previews come on, the previews cut off. The previews come on, the previews cut off. Repeat cycle. Some guy comes in to pass out reimbursement tickets and assures us that the movie will begin shortly. Repeat previous cycle a few times. Forty-five minutes later another guy shrugs that the movie probably isn't going to work. "So, should we go?" we wonder. Who knows. It's a big mystery. We left, no movie.

That was a bummer. I was all hyped up to see a holiday romantic comedy. I went to the video store downstairs to try to satisfy my romantic comedy desires, and I rented 'The Break-up.' I know that I make other people sad when I crap all over things they like, but seriously, do you really like The Break-Up? A movie where two people scream for two hours and then don't even satisfy the classic cliche of reuniting in the end? This movie seriously pissed me off and didn't help my problem at all.

But, I decided to stop being lame, and I picked up a book I've been meaning to read that's been beckoning me from the bookshelf for a few weeks now - White Teeth. So far it's great, and I'm thrilled.

Other lovely news from the weekend is that I tried out the other trial pair of contacts I picked up since the O2 Optix weren't working out. These are Acuvue Oasys, worn by Olympic figure skater Tanith Belbin & Ben Agosto! These contacts are really working out for me! I highly recommend them to anyone who spends long periods of time in front of the computer, gets frequent headaches or tired eyes, or works in any other environment that's not conducive to contacts. Also, I love Tanith & Ben... and figure skating... and the Olympics!

I could mention some crap about my Monday at work, but why tarnish such a great weekend? Hope you all had a good one as well! Don't let Monday get you down.

Blink, Part I - The Science of Marriage

So I am one-third of the way into Blink, the book I mentioned earlier today, and already it has me thinking.

The author, Gladwell, is discussing the work of a man named John Gottman. Gottman wrote a 500 page treatise called The Mathematics of Divorce which attempts to show that marriage has a kind of morse code to it. He has made a coding system with 20 categories for every conceivable emotion that a married couple may express while talking. Disgust, contempt, anger, sadness, whining, stonewalling, neutral... all of these are given numbers. Gottman and his staff get a couple to sit in a room for 15 minutes and ask them to discuss a topic from their marriage that has become a "point of contention." There are electrodes clipped to their fingers and ears, their heart rate is measured, and they even have a "jiggle-o-meter" to record how much they move around in their seat.

If Gottman analyzed an hour of husband and wife talking, he can predict with 95% accuracy whether or not they will still be married in 15 years. If he watches them for 15 minutes, he can predict with 90% accuracy.

Gladwell says that he watched some of Gottman's tapes and tried to predict the state of the marriage himself; he only had about 50% accuracy. Gottman and his staff really analyze every movement, gesture, split second of eye rolling, etc. in a way that the untrained eye just couldn't do.

It's kind of scary to think that your whole marriage can be dissected in just 15 minutes. Gottman is so well trained at this that he says he can even get a good sense of whether a marriage may end in divorce while eavesdropping at a restaurant! Also, within the 20 marriage codes he has distinguished an even more focused grouping of those categories which he calls the "Four Horsemen:" defensiveness, stonewalling, criticism, and contempt. If one or both partners in a marriage is showing contempt toward the other - it's trouble city.

Although I think my boyfriend and I treat one another amazingly well, reading this of course makes you wonder what kind of morse code you're giving off. How we treat each other is so important. It's off-putting to think that an entire marriage can be judged in 15 minutes, but maybe it's true. Maybe a couple's little scrappy moments can turn into huge shitty moments, and Gottman is tuned in to what some couples are probably trying desperately to cover up.

The Tipping Point

Last week I finished reading The Tipping Point. When I started it I was looking for something analytical; I didn't want to read more fiction. It had actually been a long time since I'd read a book for pleasure. Law school threw more than a few wrenches in that pasttime.

And then, this may sound bizarre, but I was a little afraid of reading again. I can't explain it, but being off the horse for so long just made it seem impossible to get back on. How do you choose a book? What if it's not any good? When should I make time to read - before bed, in the middle of the day? Reading used to make up so much of who I was and how I defined myself, I couldn't just skate back into that.

But, somehow I did it. Even though most of my reading time was to and from work on the metro (when I could get a seat). It was nice, though. It made going to work a little less painful. And no matter how much work numbed my mind during the day, I could take a few seconds to think about what I was reading and destress with it on the way home.

It's a book about change. In particular, it's a book that presents a new way of understanding why change so often happens as quickly and as unexpectedly as it does. For example, why did crime drop so dramatically in New York City in the mid-1990's? How does a novel written by an unknown author end up as national bestseller? Why do teens smoke in greater and greater numbers, when every single person in the country knows that cigarettes kill? Why is word-of-mouth so powerful? What makes TV shows like Sesame Street so good at teaching kids how to read? I think the answer to all those questions is the same. It's that ideas and behavior and messages and products sometimes behave just like outbreaks of infectious disease. They are social epidemics. The Tipping Point is an examination of the social epidemics that surround us.

It's a very interesting read, and I think there's a lot of truth in it. Sometimes I felt like Gladwell was beating me over the head with his point, but his stories are great. It's amazing how people pick things up from one another.

The author talks about three kinds of people: Mavens, Connectors, and Salesmen. As I was reading about these groups the author has made I could really envision people in my life who fall in to these. I could see how the scale tips.

I picked up another book by the author called Blink.

It's a book about rapid cognition, about the kind of thinking that happens in a blink of an eye. When you meet someone for the first time, or walk into a house you are thinking of buying, or read the first few sentences of a book, your mind takes about two seconds to jump to a series of conclusions. Well, "Blink" is a book about those two seconds, because I think those instant conclusions that we reach are really powerful and really important and, occasionally, really good.

Hopefully this one will be as good as the first.