In other news, the green tablecloth has become a permanent fixture -- to add some color to the room.
Sarah Green's sports column in Thursday's metro
opened: "This is more like it. Recriminations, second-guessing, anguish --- this is what October baseball in Boston is supposed to feel like." ("Things are back to normal in Hub,"
Friday morning gym, elliptical: interval program ( timesCollapse )
I did FreeRice.com more thoughtfully on Friday and progressed much better than I did on Thursday. (I am also starting to learn some new words just because the site times out and they reuse words sometimes.) At Level 47 I mostly had no clue (ditto 46). I did get amaurosis  = blindness, because I thought of amanuensis1
, which reminded me of the term "amanuensis" from my Milton class.
I correctly guessed that sprat = small herring, so the "Jack Sprat could eat no fat . . ." nursery rhyme now particularly amuses me.
I also correctly guessed littleneck  = quahog, because thanks to Family Guy
I knew what a "quahog" was (have never heard the term "littleneck").
Heh, "cacography" = "bad handwriting" (like "cacophony" + "calligraphy").
I finally actually started looking at Simmons' library science program
. I know Jessie hated it, but I get the impression that nobody really likes their Library Science program, everyone just suffers through it to get the degree. And Amy loves the kidlit portion of her dual-degree program, so that's a thought as well.
I don't feel excited looking at any of the classes, so then I ask myself, "Well what would I want to have a library science degree in order to do
?" and I don't have much of an answer for that question.
My mom asked if I was coming to Singspiration, and when I said yes, she said: "We'll slaughter the fatted shells&cheese" ♥
It having been six weeks since the last one, I had to re-adjust. Hymnals under the pews, sitting for the songs, none of the hymns have been PC-ified. I actually enjoyed most of the songs, though -- which I don't always. ( hymn listCollapse )
I was showing off my autographed copy of Da Book (complete with sticky note on the spot in the Acknowledgments where my name is), and I showed Joe F., knowing he would be pleased. He said, "Nothing you could do would surprise me -- the sky's the limit." I pointed out that that was poor phrasing -- "even if I became a godless communist?" He just laughed.
Oh, and in showing Mike F. (who was the first person I showed that night), I realized there are whole paragraphs I haven't read -- the Advance Praise bits :)
I gave Mike F. a back/shoulder massage, and he did like the human equivalent of a dog wagging its tail. I gave Joe F. a shoulder massage, and he was mostly non-responsive, but at one point he did say it felt good, to which I responded, "That's the point."
I was talking with George K., and he was saying how I used to be really shy but I've come into my own.
My mom and I were chatting with Joe F. later, and he mentioned -- which he had told me in a letter about a year ago -- how he was willing to become a JP to perform a civil union between two women. He said that if two people want to commit their lives to each other, regardless of their gender . . . he just doesn't want the word "marriage" used. I said that I would be happy to let churches keep the word "marriage" and have the legal term for all
couples be "civil unions." I forgot about the "separate but equal" analogy until I was writing this up just now, and I still don't entirely know how to parse his position on this issue (we've really only discussed the "let the people vote" aspect, and I make assumptions because I know he's longtime close friends with PB -- "I didn't jump. I took a tiny step and there conclusions were."
), but I keep mentally replaying that phrase "regardless of gender." And I really love that the couple in question is the couple who left UCN.
Last minute, Allie invited me to have lunch with her on Saturday 'cause she was gonna be in town looking at apartments, so I ended up at the Boston Vegetarian Food Festival
basically only long enough to say hi to Heather.
We had lunch at Arrow Street Crepes with Kath. I got a sweet crepe with bananas and stuff (Metro). Tasty.
Her next apartment viewing was right near Central Square T, so we walked there (and I recalled various times with Nicole) and then Kath and I walked around while Allie and her mom looked at the apartment. I've mostly only walked along Mass Ave., so it was neat to walk around some residential areas and parks and stuff. And despite not really sharing fandoms we talked fandom easily.
Afterward, we went to Million Year Picnic and stuff and then had dinner at wagamama -- where Allie's mom was generous enough to treat all of us. I was unimpressed with the vegetarian options (though pleased to see that they sell Riesling by the glass -- which I didn't order but which I always check for).
In Friday's metro
I read a review
of The Veiled Monologues
, so Saturday night I went to see it.
The women interviewed were Dutch Muslims -- and all four actresses are Dutch, and at least two have Turkish ties. They're all fair-skinned (three dark-haired and one blonde), but they all have meat on their bones. Dance and song/music happened throughout.
It was really interesting hearing some stories of very positive sexual/nudity experiences as well as incredibly negative ones (one woman described her experience of her vagina as like that kind of torture where you're tied to the ground and a goat licks the salt off your skin until it cracks). And the positive and negative contrasts between Muslim men/culture and Dutch men/culture. I was also impressed at the amount of queerness. Some women were raped by family members or family friends, and no one talked about it or protected them; others had their first sex with family members and were glad to have that first experience be one of safety and love. Some women talked about wanting
to be raped because then they would be freed of this burden of virginity but their honor would still be safe. I really liked that there were so many stories of opposite experiences, because it meant you couldn't easily leave with a monolithic idea of what Muslim culture means for women's sexuality. Female "circumcision" even got discussed.
A Moroccan woman used the word "cunt" [pronounced "koont"] -- said vagina sounded French, the language of where she was born.
This morning, OriginalRoomie said that when she moves out I can have her room if I want. I'd actually been thinking about this, and wondering whether it felt worth moving all my stuff. She said "walk-in closet," and if her closet really is better than mine I think I'm sold.
This means she'd be showing what's currently my room, which is added incentive for me to make it actually look presentable (though she's not moving out for like six months). I'm already starting to feel the pressure, though, 'cause I find myself looking for things and forgetting where I've stored them. I swear I still have my bartending book plus my massage class books/notebooks, and I can't find them anywhere. I tore through 14 boxes and then realized I'd forgotten about the 9 boxes under my bed. I still didn't find them, which means I'm gonna have to dig through the boxes more carefully, since they can't have vanished. Though I will probably just beg Palmer for another copy of the Massage 1 booklet. I have learned not to trust people's enthusiasm for being practiced on (I didn't get credit for Massage 1 'cause I didn't have the 30 credit hours -- I probably could have begged some sort of extension, but by that time I'd gotten an office job and didn't think I'd have the time/energy to continue the program, so I didn't bother) but I think I could probably actually make it happen a few times given the responses I've been getting recently, and I'd like to be able to do it for real rather than just the bits I remember.
Having numerous people actually be enthusiastic about being practiced on, I've been wondering whether I'd want to take classes at Palmer again. I'm really not sure I'm committed enough. Plus the scheduling is bothersome. ( information for my own referenceCollapse )