Thursday, October 22, 2009

Kinda sounds like prison's better than Dunder Mifflin...

Just when you think you're almost home on a nicely uneventful day, someone starts caressing you on the train.

I'd just gotten caught up on Project Runway only to find out fucking adorable hometown girl Shirin lost to some wankface moron whose name I still haven't bothered to learn, so you know, I was already not in the mood for bullshit.

Even when he sat down next to me, it was weird; the train wasn't all that full and my stuff was oozing onto the next seat. He was oozing weird vibe, so I discreetly moved closer to the END when we stopped.

And you know, I wasn't even sure. Maybe I was being paranoid, right? I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but his hand (which I even LOOKED DOWN at) was clearly over his leg and kept brushing/caressing my leg. (I was wearing a dress but it covered my legs plenty, whew.) I figured, if he does it again...

And he did.

So I turned from my shoulders and LOOKED. AT. HIM. Now if someone turns to you on the train, you're going to look back. Out of surprise or confusion if nothing else. Yeah, not only did this guy not look at me, I could feel him not looking at me and pretty much praying I wasn't going to start screaming at him there on the train (there can be more than one crazy, you know) but basically, you could just see the waves of shame coming off this dude.

And then he made a big point of using both his hands to play with his ipod and phone. Just a coincidence, I'm sure...

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

J'ai une âme solitaire.

A friend of mine (technically D's, and also Mob's best friend, but I really adored this guy) killed himself Monday night. I rarely got to see him but I was still happy knowing he was there, and it goes without saying I wish we'd been able to see him more often.



I was so happy to still have this picture with me, rather than back in Texas. He loathed having his picture taken, but he was being a very good sport here at Mob's wedding (he was also meeting me in person for the first time so maybe he was going easy on me). You may have seen his blog in the past (it may be invite-only, I don't recall) and comments here--he ("MacGuffin") always had great comments.



I don't know much, but simply that the years of sickness and depression took their toll.

We hadn't emailed in a while, but I was looking back at some of our past correspondence and I hope it's not totally inappropriate, but I wanted to reprint one that, while perhaps not uplifting, I still found moving. We were discussing the recent death of his dog, whom he'd owned during some of the hardest times in his life. This was about two years ago, maybe a little less.

Yeah, the passage of time helps but it doesn't make the pain go away, grief simply changes you. My brother **** committed suicide in 2002 and to this day I think of him every single day but it's become bearable somehow. [My dog] was with me through so much pain and misery (I've had cancer twice), we formed an unusually strong bond that I simply cannot begin to describe. He's been my constant companion and joy and now I feel so damn bereft... I've been sobbing and carrying on to such an extent, it's even surprised me.

I'll muddle through somehow or I won't... either way I'm not the same person I was two weeks ago. Nothing can change that now. Thanks for the kind words and take care.


You are sincerely missed.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Do you know where I can get, like, a really great dress?

So the other day my sister and I were on the train trying to get from my apartment to downtown. Out of nowhere, this crazy old man (odder still, I don’t think he was intoxicated) proceeds to ask us (more than once since we did not understand), “Do you know how much better Boston would be without the colleges?”

Obviously I had nothing to say to this. I mean, I do, but this man was not someone I really wanted to have a conversation with. “Oh, is this South Station?” I suddenly said, getting us off the train. (So what if we wanted Park Station?) No big deal.

Today. I’m leaving school around 4 and for the second day in a row as I hit the platform, my train is just pulling up. Considering my train comes every other train, this was pretty fucking cool. There was a man next to me waiting to get on, and he pushed himself in front to be first, then slowly turned around…and it was the same fucking guy. “Do you know how much better Boston would be without the colleges?”

I immediately ran away to a separate car.

It was totally alarming and freaky, I don’t care how small Boston is. I was worried it might turn into a Drag Me to Hell-type scenario where I’m perpetually haunted by a crazy fucker…though admittedly I don’t think he’ll try biting my face off. I hope.

And it was also less cool than being trapped in a This Is Ponderous moment--you know, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be at work?" It was just all sorts of wrong and unwelcome.

So that was the weirdest part of my day. I'm glad there wasn't something else competing, at least.

On a completely separate note, I’m totally sad I have to miss a book launch party in two weeks hosted by Dennis Lehane. It’s the same night as a school function and though I’ll probably end up being pretty unsocial, I should at least make the attempt. The book launch is noir-themed and part of the Boston Book Fest, it sounds very cool. Balls.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I mean, who gives a crap if they're socialists? They could be fascist anarchists, it still doesn't change the fact that I don't own a car.

Pleasedon'tsuckpleasedon'tsuckpleasedon'tsuck!



In anyone else's hands, this could be so terrible. But I totally trust Peter Jackson to get it right. I thought I had read the book but in retrospect, I don't think I have. I have to go read it now so I still have a little time between the two and I don't judge too harshly. Here's hoping it's awesome.

(And of course, living in Boston now means rooting for hometown actor Mark Walhberg, which I pretty much did anyway. And of course, I choose not to extend this rule to Ben Affleck. So there.)

Speaking of socialism, though, last night I saw Capitalism: A Love Story. I'd heard it was one of Moore's weaker efforts, but I didn't think so at all. It's not as openly controversial as some of his past works, and yet "socialism" is such a hot button issues these days. For some reason I always remember this library in North Carolina where Veloute and Douglas used to live. Someone had scrawled "Socialism here!" in terrified chicken-scratch on the book drop door. I remember being a little confused, like, "Yeah...and?"

Anyway, the movie has all the Moore staples you've come to expect, starting with a handful of somewhat in-depth true stories from people whose homes are being foreclosed and people who have lost spouses and come to find out these companies for whom their spouses worked take out life insurance on their employees, collecting big time when they die (meaning of course, that the employee is usually worth more to them dead than alive). I really didn't know much about the latter, and it was really appalling.

Moore also does his in-your-face schtick, which I've never been too fond of, though I can certainly appreciate the need for it, I suppose. It's always humorous to see numerous security people walking out of whatever corporate headquarters Moore's approaching before he's even at the door (shit, at GM he wasn't even on the stairs before they came out). And not surprisingly, all the Congress representatives who speak with him are Democrats. Shocker.

But it was enjoyable, and I hope a lot of people see it (particularly those who don't already agree with the views, but the odds of that are always slim). But who knows...when I left the theater, I heard someone ask, "Did you just come from the new Michael Moore movie?" (I was rocking the peasant look, apparently.) Especially since it was opening weekend, I thought maybe someone was looking for an argument, but I turned around anyway.

"Yes," I say.

"Did you like it?"

(Mild apprehension.) "Yes."

"Oh, well, here, you might like to read this, then..." and I was handed materials for meetings discussing the film, marches in Quincy and some other panel discussions on--gasp!--socialism! Holy shit, I'm not in Texas anymore.