Hello There Loves

I've been working so much I've neglected posting here and for that I'm sorry. I hope you all are fabulous! I have been for the most part. I will post soon about some of my mating mishaps. Promise they'll be worth the wait.
Cheers

Humanity I Love You

I find it so incredibly hilarious how seriously people take themselves and their cause...how self-important we all are. It's baffling. Where has our sense of humor gone? I feel like a court jester somehow...or a carni that sees all the spectacle and tells people to step right up for the show of indie kids taking photos of their emaciated selves or of Lincoln Park moms with $800 strollers ordering their nannies and children around or Business men who never look up from their fucking cell phones whilst ordering beverages (which makes it a tad difficult to understand)...or the hippies who attempt to enlighten, but cannot see beyond their soy milk, dreads and personal funk...or baristas like myself who've become a bit disgruntled and world weary of all of the aforementioned personalities.
It is my wish that people see their own ridiculousness and own it instead of pretending to be perfect (or nearly).


Humanity I love you because when you're hard up, you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.
e.e. cummings

Where to Turn

Ever since I moved out of the house, my grandmother has been my confidant. Whenever I had anything bothering me or just wanted to feel a little less alone, I would call her and be restored to sanity. In the months since she passed, I've been searching for someone who will mean even a fraction as much to me as she...but I've been found wanting.
I know grief is a process filled with oddities like fevered dreams and sudden joy from memories, and I don't want to do without either. I think they will strengthen my person, but I am truly desperate for some of grandma's advice and love. Though I know part of her is always with me, it's not the same.

Arrogance and Ignorance

A few clever quips and we're all veritable Einsteins. I wonder what we'll become when we learn to read and listen.

When did Lewd Behavior Become the Norm?

It has been said that man is a rational animal. All my life I have been searching for evidence which could support this. -Bertrand Russell



Today, amid my 14 hour shift at the kissing booth, I read a couple of articles in the New York Times arts section (for the first time in weeks, I've had time to actually delve into the paper which was incredibly exciting). One of which was about the upcoming royal wedding and the media's overwhelming response to it - which I honestly hadn't noticed until this week because I just hadn't time or interest enough to watch tv.
The article about the soon to be newlyweds got me thinking a bit about etiquette and what pomp and circumstance would be seen this upcoming Friday. Somewhere in this train of thought, I became curious as to my own etiquette....I was brought up to be painstakingly proper but have been a tad more relaxed as of late. None-the-less, in my personality, passing judgement happens quite naturally even when I display the unappealing qualities that I am eager to correct in others...so I began spouting off (with my co-workers) a list of pet peeves that I believe genuinely stem from our culture's defiance of all perceived norms.
I don't know when people stopped knocking on doors - especially bathrooms - before entering. Or when it became acceptable to break wind in public without asking pardon. Or when spitting began being fashionable. Or when walking with a group of people (taking up the entire sidewalk)refusing to budge even when you see others attempting to get through. Or not cleaning up your dog's excrement in other people's yards or walkways. I thought these were mostly common sense....definitely not something, you needed a book or a visit to Miss Manners to instill, but somehow we've forgotten general politeness...and it makes me ill.
I would like to think that as humans with the ability to reason, we would be more aware of others (and our impact) than our bonobo relatives...Maybe someday we will improve mentally upon the evolutionary chain.

People Are Surprising

Today whilst judging the world, I was pleasantly surprised not once - but twice on the CTA. The first was by a man reading Dumas on the el, and the second was two teens helping a blind man off the bus.

Small Attempts

I wish there were thoughts floating through my head all of the time....I wish that life were interesting enough for me to regale you all with tales for days. But, alas, I'm not that interesting as of late. I haven't done much besides work and attempt to find singing gigs in this city. I feel like my life is a reality show minus all of the editing....so I have a 150hrs of boring until we get to the juicy bits (5 minutes in comparison). I'm pretty sure everyone's life is as such. Hmmm.... I suppose this weekend was juicy, but not in the way I wish - no romance or new shoes or anything nice really. I had a "The Hills" worthy argument with one of my roomies over my general disdain for our personality clashes. All of this was spurred on by the third roomie who was tired of tension and feeling like a middle-man....Honestly, though I know the tension in a home can be exhausting for friendships, I don't think it was her place to essentially force us to talk before either of us were ready. It just makes living a bit more uncomfortable - not less. We've both said our parts and now more than ever, I don't want to be in the same space too long for fear I may explode with explicatives and whatnot. Here's to hoping that I can control my tongue and remember that this arrangement isn't permanent and this situation is beneath my contempt. Maybe one day we'll look back and laugh at all of this. Maybe not.

Reflections

Back at me you stare your gaze all consuming

Provoking me

Yet I look away.

Unable to love fully that which I struggle to understand,

But you're wanting -

Almost screaming, crying out

To be seen....

And I think, "One day I will accept me for all I am"

A beautiful mess

More Charming than a Fifth Grader?

So, I do realize that ever so much of what I write about is frivolous and fleeting...and much on the same level as a teenage girl....And this makes me curious about a couple of things. I suppose the first would be my own maturation - ever since I was a child, I've been an adult mentally for everything minus men (or boys) and daydreaming (which I think is a very necessary part of life....and creation). I suppose on that thought would be the question "is it just me or do all 20 somethings have the sexual capacity mentally of adolescents?"

I get excited for the little things. If someone remembers that I was sick 3 months ago (exaggeration) and just wanted to make sure I was better the next time they see me....I melt a bit. I'm the girl that still enjoys a good mix tape or a book on loan because I feel like it actually means something. If someone recommends food or a movie or a special spot in a park, it's quite likely I'll attempt to eat or go to see what they find enchanting about it. (All of which is entirely true and most likely has happened because of the biker boy....who I think I'm going to ask out this Thursday if he comes in.....side story - I went to visit him at work - this swanky Mediterranean cafe - and got my food for free....which made me smile, but then I proceeded to spill an entire bowl of soup on my way to my seat...where I sat trying to avoid staring creepily at him...go me).

So why the questioning now?

I suppose I feel like I'm on the shortbus of love. I sort of know what I want, but have absolutely no clue in how to go about finding it. I'm not the biggest fan of going out or meeting people in bars...I much prefer judging complete strangers and avoiding new people to giving people a chance to enter my sphere.

All of this is brought on somewhat by a quasi love interest (not really love so much as I enjoyed (past tense) talking to him and may have broken a 3.5 year loosing streak in bed - sorry that's probably too perverse....but it was one of my resolutions for the year...much easier to keep than loosing weight or saving money). I don't really know how, but amidst my undying puppy love for the biker boy, I met another artist (biker boy is also in the visual arts...all of the men I've ever dated have been in one form or another). This other guy is super cool and working towards having it together more than most....but is distant and aloof in all of his interactions - not just with me, but with everyone I've seen him with. Even when we talked about his own work, he was passe about it - like it was nothing of importance.

But I guess because of what happened, I'm questioning the way we relate as men and women. I suppose I see him as the cool kid in Jr High who everyone wanted to be friends with or be like and who was intentionally cold to the girls he most wanted because he needed to keep his image....and I suppose I would be the awkward girl that it's uncool for him to like because I'm not unmoved by the world. I'm Laney Boggs in "She's All That" only I'm not with it enough to know he's not the leading man.

I simply see so many of my own interactions as childlike as they were 10 years ago and am wondering if I'm alone or are we all reliving the same moments we had when we were younger....only now we kind of know what we're doing (but don't bother much to change).

Whose Line is it Anyway?

Well, a good deal has happened since last I wrote, but I am at a loss of where to begin. So, I decided that I will regale you with my favorite pick up lines. All but two of which I've heard personally within the past couple of months.
I don't really understand it, but apparently I must look like I'm open for business...or an Ethiopian queen...or really just a goddess to any foreigners and/or Blatino and Arab men that drive cabs or own restaurants or loiter in my particular area of town. I can't leave my house without some type of story which really just baffles me. I cannot count the number of proposals I've received from cabbies that I've seen only once (which can be creepy, but quite lovely because I rarely have to pay for my ride) or dirty proposals I've received from bus drivers at 5am whilst in transit to work. Even when I say that I'm seeing someone (which is false...holding out for the biker boy or someone equally awkward and beautiful...is it alright to call men beautiful?), they still ask for my number or if I'm satisfied because whatever they have to offer must be so much more that my fictional boyfriend could possibly do for me. I really want to know what they think I'm going to say and/or do with a complete stranger.
Well, my top five moments would probably be the following (not in any order of importance):

• I was on the el shortly after New Years going to one of my favorite bars (really the only one I go to regularly) that's literally across the street from work. I didn't really feel like it, but my roomies were there and wanting to have roomie time...and because I avoid it as much as possible (I'm sort of a hermit), I decided to indulge them this once. While on the platform, I am circled by someone who didn't actually speak to me, but says something overtly sexual about birthing hips and ass and I'm the only one around (and have both in spades). I let it pass because the train is arriving and I don't really feel that giving attention to people that don't care to get to know you before talking about what they'd do with you is wise. The train arrives and I'm in a huff to get away from this perverse human being and as I enter the train, I am bombarded by three such persons who cat call all the way to my seat and then proceed to talk about me and to me for the next 20 minutes of the ride. Initially it was sweet I guess (not really), but I ignored all of their advances and soon they turned sour. Saying things like "well if she were 20 lbs lighter, I would do x,y and z to her." If I had been more with it, I would have said who the fuck do you think you are that I'd allow you to do such things....but I wasn't as brave or really in the mood for confrontation with the crazy people on the train. As I get up to leave. The older guy says "see what I mean, all meat and no potatoes" as one of the younger says "I'd still eat it." Really. Do I look like a fucking steak? Although they were quite ignorant and in many ways offensive, the lines they used I can't quite forget. It was great fodder for conversation with my roomies...and a good reason to never leave the house again for roomie night. The rest are much more pleasant and short I promise.
• I live less than three blocks away from Dominick's (which aside from Whole Foods and Treasure Island is my favorite city grocer...I don't know why). During the summer and fall a good deal of homeless people and vagabonds stand outside with pop up stands selling incense and possibly stolen goods. One day in November when it was still warm enough to be on the street, I went to the store twice because I forgot something for fondue that I wanted to make. Each time I passed, this man who looked like a balding Rastafarian approached me with perfumes that would make my man happy. The last time, he asked if I were married and I don't know why but actually told the truth. He then got on bended knee and proposed. I refused and laughed all the way home....I've seen him a couple of times since and he seems to have remained faithful to his ideals.
• I don't know if I've said anything prior as to what I aspire to whilst being a barista...because all people that work at Starbuck's should have goals and dreams aside from making the perfect rose in someone's latte....not that any of us are good at that either. My particular life goal is to be a Wagnerian contralto singing the role of Erda wherever people will hire me...hopefully making enough money from my staggering talent to purchase a chateau that will house my shoe collection of Christian Louboutin's and YSL's...(none of which I have at present, but one day). This is all to preface one of my favorite stories I promise. Well, to achieve that goal, I used to practice 4-5hours a day at school, but seeing as though practice rooms in the city aren't free, I have had to limit the amount of time. The one place I know of in town that will allow you to practice for an hour or two for free is the Harold Washington Library (which is one of my favorite places in town). With an ID or a Library Card, You can go to the eighth floor and work on whatever you need for auditions and the like. I like going most often at night when most people are at home eating dinner or watching tv. I'll normally stay till close because I love the city at night. A couple weeks before Christmas, I was in practicing the alto solos from Verdi's Requiem along with bits from Handel's Messiah. I heard the bell and voice saying that the library will close in 5 minutes. I head for the elevators along with a trumpet player and someone else still on that floor (both are older white males - not that this is incredibly important). The lift arrives and we enter. It stops on floor six where in comes a 60 year old black man wheeling a backpack. As he enters, he says "What's you're name beautiful?" I assume he's talking to me, but don't answer. He continues "Because I just want to know what to tell Santa what I want for Christmas." A moment of silence...then all in the lift burst out laughing until we reach the third floor where we must pass security to exit. Funniest moment in my life!
• The next story is short and happened a week or so after the Santa Incident on my way home from work. One of my roomies is my boss at Starbucks and any time we close, we take the el home together. Well this time, I forgot to visit le toillette before she set the alarm and didn't want to go through the trouble of a police visit because I needed to tinkle. I decided to hold it (which is a terrible idea for me, but I will not expound upon that) When we get off the el which is a city block away from Dominick's she says she needs groceries. Not wanting her to be alone at night, I say I'll go with her, but as she's a very slow walker, I would need to walk ahead to the ladies room leaving her trailing some distance behind. As I am about to round the corner, a man appears from nowhere and says "I don't care if you're walking to the end of the world, can I walk with you?" Not able to think about anything but trying to avoid wetting my pants, I ignore him and keep walking with my goal in mind. He follows for a bit, but when seeing his attentions are not returned, he turns around and begins to attempt to make a move on my roommate thinking she may have not seen what just happened. It was phenomenal....and I did make it to the loo btw.
• Two days ago, I was riding the bus from the train to work and was the only person on it for a few blocks and the bus driver proceeded to tell me I should take pictures. That my lips were so beautiful, he just wanted to touch them. And that he was going to come visit me Starbucks (he's the regular bus driver at the time I go in as the morning mid around 6:30am, so he knows where I get off...and most of the time, I'm in uniform already). He asked if I was seeing anyone and when I answered yes, he asked if I had enough friends and if he could have that position and my number....This isn't my favorite story, but it's still fresh in my mind and with any top five, the last one listed is often the one of least consequence.

As a bonus to my ridiculous stories, I will include two from my friends that tickled me.

• The homeless in the city often are some of the most bold because they have nothing to loose in being forward with you. Sometimes, their attempts are more clever than those that have plenty. My friend C was walking downtown one day on the way to an audition I believe. She was in a bit of a hurry, but had to stop when this man said to her "If I had a phone would you call me." She didn't know how to respond except to say yes for the cleverness and originality. I think it's absolutely endearing!
• While on the train to Hyde Park with my best friend (who is absolutely gorgeous), this man offers me his seat as the train was packed where we got on. I refused because it was a bit further away from her and we love to make up stories for people on the train. When he gets up to leave a few stops later he stops and turns around saying to her "Girl, I will regret this for the rest of my life if I don't tell you this. Girl your hair is fabutastic. That's two words - fabulous and fantastic." I'm sure he said more as the door was opening, but both of us were fighting back laughter from his explanation of the word. At first I thought he was gay, but she sees him quite frequently on the train and apparently he is not.
  

Well...hopefully you've enjoyed. I will have stories for you soon. Happy Valentine's Day!