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Saturday, August 04, 2001
From May 9th, a post that got lost somehow: "it's amazing what happens when you go back to a conflict and really talk about the human nature behind it. you realize how twisted situations can be, and no one's aware of it, they're all in their own little bubbles, acting according to what they think is going on, worrying about their interests."
16:50
Friday, August 03, 2001
Update: So I guess I won't be going to the Jersey Shore, the jewel of the American coast.... I was supposed to make a trip with David's friends Sarah and Abby for the weekend. But plans fell apart, as plans involving people like me often do. Sarah had the car all packed when she called and said it'd be an insanely hectic weekend if she came, which I'd been thinking all along. In other news, TODAY IS MY LAST DAY OF WORK. Bliss.
18:45
Thursday, August 02, 2001
Although it took me a week to find an idea for a quarter-page magazine article, I had three ideas for books within the past 24 hours. My creativity hates me.
17:43
Wednesday, August 01, 2001
Baseball has always seemed like the most boring sport to watch. But on Monday I watched a softball game that absolutely entertained me. Patrick's company team played the Library of Congress. I sat on the grass in front of the Smithsonian, five feet from first base, with four little kids whose moms were playing against Patrick's team. One two year-old cried every time her mom went into the outfield. Another girl, about 7, started making up rules for the kids. "All right! This is how it's going to be. You all cannot go past this line!" (She was very bossy, at one point trying to dress her Barbie she demanded: "Now you stay still, you stupid Barbie.") And the players were fun to watch -- you never knew which was going to trip over first base. When Patrick caught one of the mom's hits, another mom prompted all the kids to yell: "Mommy was robbed!" The game broke up as the sky behind the Washington monument melted into pinks and purples. One man's watch was missing, so play ended and he headed off in a police car to find two boys who'd been hanging around earlier. The drama of company softball. Much better than watching people who know what they're doing.
16:46
Quote in the news: "I'd just never been inside a prison before. It looked like a safe and secure place to me." -- Clydene Manning; after tour of Sayre, Oklahoma's new prison
10:59
Tuesday, July 31, 2001
Realization: Maybe it's not that I *can't* do this corporate thing, but that I don't want to. I keep resisting the adult world like it's pulling wisdom teeth. When I was maybe 4, I used to play house with an elaborate imaginary family, complete with a husband who was a fisherman and a daughter in a red dress named Jodie. Now people are actually starting to *treat* me like an adult, and I don't want any part of it. Responsibility? Etiquette? Luncheon conversation? I don't think so. Someone tell them I'm just a kid.
17:08
Monday, July 30, 2001
"How do they fuckin' know I didn't litter?" -- Tracy, on a "Thank you for not littering" sign
16:43
This weekend Amanda, Tara and I stayed at Tracy's house in a suburb of New York, went to a Barenaked Ladies concert on Saturday night, and took a bus back on Sunday. In two days, we sipped daquiris by the pool, saw an excellent show, and inched through traffic jams singing our favorite songs, just glad to be together. But there were really surreal moments, too. Moments where I just stopped, looked around, and asked myself, *what* am I doing here?: - Picking up Tara in Chinatown, after her bus ride from Boston on a Chinese charter tour. No one spoke enough English to tell us when her bus was arriving, as we wandered through streets of vendors selling lumps of dough and alien fruits, smelling frying fat and car exhaust.
- At the concert, standing behind a couple energetically grinding and gyrating together in a display that would have been gross, if not for their detached Tom-Jones smiles.
- Also at the concert, when suddenly two groups of girls next to us and behind us started arguing over a guy, looking like a West Side Story rumble in the making. Suddenly they all ran off and came back friends.
- After the concert: Following the general drunken herd in total darkness along the side of a highway for half a mile, then realizing our car was in the other direction.
- Walking to the bus station through a grimy neighborhood near Times Square, passing in quick succession a gently smiling man playing an accordian for his family and a man shouting like he was about to beat up some woman.
- The bus ride home, between the baby whining in Portugese and the French couple making out and the New Yorker talking on his cell phone for half an hour.
- Wearily waking to the D.C. bus station at 11:30pm, solicited by illegitimate cab drivers and surrounded by general chaos.
16:18
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