Tales From The...Karaoke Bar

Yes, it is true. I visited a karaoke bar last night. Bethany and her friends go there all the time and although I wasn't excited to attend, I figured that since I'm in Rome I may as well. Or...Venice...

We went with a bunch of her and Brya's friends and from what I can tell so far, they're all really cool people. Bethany and I decided that since we'd known each other for five years and had never before been drunk together that we would get drunk last night together. Whenever I mentioned to people that I was from Boise, they inevitably asked me about the blue turf at BSU. Yes, it is true. There is a blue turf at Boise State. I was kind of like a novelty conversation item in that regard.

The evening was rather uneventful. There was a guy there who looked like Chris Kataan doing a Sting impression. Kinda cool, but at the same time kinda creepy. There was one girl in a red tank top who could really sing. And another one in a white shirt who really couldn't. There was guy named Tobin who was all punked out 80s style. Spiked hair, slashed jeans, Def Leopard shirt...the whole works. The ensemble was complimented with a mass of piercings. And there was Brayton, a friend of Bethany's who kept telling me all these cool places to go while I'm here. I talked with some guy named William about teaching and tattoos for a little while. He thought it was a good idea before he left to ask me to have sex with him. I stared at him with a rather appalled and disgusted expression and told him no before leaving the table altogether, which surprised him. Evidently, he thought it was a good idea.

Bethany went home about that time because she was tired, but I stayed and played with Brya and her friends Jen and Louise. I didn't really talk with Jen much but she seemed really nice. She talked a little bit about how she had gotten married at 18 and had a huge, fairytale wedding and then was divorced a few years later. That's really all I remember about her. I talked to Louise a little bit more. She's from England and although she seemed a few years older than me, she is only a few months older than me. I wish she lived near me because I would love to hang out with her all the time. The four of us went across the street to another bar, the name of which no one knows how to pronounce correctly. I sat talking to this guy Phil for a little while about Boise because he wanted to know more about the fabled blue turf (honest to god). I found a piece of a napkin with his number on it in my pocket this morning so I threw it away. I was doing nothing to make him think that I would have any interest in seeing him again. In fact, when he asked me about getting together again next weekend I denied him quite flatly. I failed to mention that it was because I don't live here; I just told him that it was because I didn't want to and that I had no interest in seeing him again. Then some older guy who didn't speak very good English came over and was telling me what a beautiful Latina I am and kept trying to touch my beautiful Latina face. I didn't even try to tell him that I'm not Latina.

Then Brya thought she would be a doll and rescue me from them by taking me to the smallest, sketchiest bathroom in the world, where she insisted I go into the stall with her and hand her toilet paper. Then she yelled at me because I wasn't giving her enough. By that time the bar was closing so the four of us girls went to this fella Eric's house, where we found him sleeping. Brya spent quite a while trying to find a picture of him with his good friend whose name I don't remember but he played Christian in the movie Clueless. I liked his furniture so I investigated freely while he and Brya made out for a while. All I know about him is that he's 42, Brya thinks he's extremely hot, and he has no drivers license because he got a DUI. Eventually we left there and came home, where I was very happy to be because I was extremely tired.

Huh. I was only going to mention the first place and the people there, but that's all right. Now you know more of the story. There is still a little more detail-wise. You just have to speak to me in person if you want...the rest of the story.

Californ-I-A

So I'm in California. Venice, to be exact. I wasn't sure where I was going to be (as in the town...I just knew I was going to LA) but now I do. Venice. I got here at 7:30 this morning, which meant that I was up at about 4:30 and that was no fun. Bethany and her sister Brya picked me up from the airport and then brought me back to their apartment. Bethany and I sat and visited for a while and then we went to breakfast at 26 Beach, where she works. Very super cool restaurant with my highest level of recommendation. If you're ever in Venice, you'll miss out if you don't go there. Then we walked all around Venice Beach and the boardwalk, meandering in and out of random shops.

Now we're back at the apartment getting ready to go out. Brya dressed me. It's funny...I look at fashion as a fun way to accessorize your life. Brya lives for fashion. She vetoed me wearing a belt and instead gave me a bracelet. It's amusing to me.

Wild Goose Chase

Kelly and I tried to see the Northern Lights last night, but either they were more stealthy than we were or we were doing it wrong. That's all right, though. We drove around, saw some cool scenery, picnicked and had some great conversations. And hopefully he was able to get some good photos of the night sky. He takes pictures all the time and I think it is great because he is so good at using photography to capture a second of life. But regardless, our safari did not pan out. And if you ask me, it wasn't because we were doing anything wrong. We were safari-ing just like the professionals on TV. We drove to where the subject should be, turned off all the vehicle lights, looked out of the roof of the vehicle, walked in (well, near) the brush, took pictures and waited quietly. Hmmm...If anyone can let me know what safari tips we failed to comply with, I will happily accept your guidance.

Auroras

I have been informed by an informant that the Northern Lights are showing themselves in our area lately. Here is a map that shows where the effects of the lights will be seen. This map is updated every five minutes. If any red or even yellow is touching Idaho at all, we'll be able to see it here. All you need to do is go outside away from city lights and look north. Or you can look at this web site as well. What you'll see could look something like this. Good luck and happy viewing!

It Was Awesome

Last night was the paradigm concert. Patri came over to the house and met Kelly and me, then we went to dinner at a sushi restaurant but had more nigiri rolls and sashimi than sushi which was not what I had anticipated, and then we went to Grainey's for the concert. Zach came too, for about five minutes, and Jaime and Dustin showed up and hung out with us the whole time. It was so much fun...the music, the crowd, the dancing...If you were there, you know exactly what I'm talking about. And if you weren't there, well, you missed out. Sorry. Plus, there were cameras going like crazy so Patri and I were jumping in everyone else's pictures with the band. There was a guy there with a digital camera who's supposed to email me some photos. If he does, I'll post them here. And at one point, Patri pulled me up on stage with her when the band was talking about us. I think the coolest thing about it was that when Kelly, Patri and I walked into the bar (wearing matching paradigm t-shirts), everyone in the band noticed, recognized us from before and said a hello of sorts. Shannon assumed Kelly to be an XL shirt size when he bought his shirt...neither of us understand that one. Kyle chatted it up with Patri and me about their upcoming album for a while. Keith apologized to us for being so sweaty when he hugged us. We took their play lists at the end of the night and everyone signed them for us. It's a little silly maybe, but it is fun and harmless silly and makes everyone involved feel good.

All around, it was just a super fun night.

Song Lyrics

I'm sick of hurting the people I love as I sort through my own stuff in my own life just because I'm not coping well. I'm sick of people having to deal with the venom I spit at them. I'm sick of it and I'm sorry. I'm particularly sorry to the people who are around me most often. None of you deserve it. And at the same time that I say I'm sorry, I want to thank you for loving me - for loving me to begin with and for loving me even still.

In particular, I feel I've been rather unfair to Kelly. As I've been thinking more and more about this atrocity, I'm reminded of a verse from an India.Arie song called The Truth. Here are the words:

I remember the very first day that I saw him.
I found myself immediately intrigued by him.
It's almost like I knew this man from another life.
Like back then maybe I was his husband and maybe he was my wife.
And even the things I don't like about him are fine with me,
because it's not hard for me to understand him because he's so much like me.
And it's truly my pleasure to share his company,
and I know that its God's gift to breathe the air he breathes.

I'll just let that speak for itself.

Only ten hours until paradigm!

Knitting

I have been knitting a lot lately. It is a recently acquired hobby. I made P teach me how to in April when we were on our way to Jackpot for what turned out to be a lesson to A that she not only hates gambling but is horrible at the game. That weekend, I knitted (knit?) K a blue scarf. I was nervous about giving it to him because I'd only known him for about three weeks so I wasn't sure how he was going to respond, but he responded appropriately enough to throw my budding interest into a passion. And by responding appropriately, what I mean is that he gushed. A lot. And showed it to everyone. And gushed some more. And encouraged them to gush.

So now I knit a lot. He bought me a book ("He" being K) about knitting that I've been reading all summer. In fact, I had originally planned to read many things this summer, but instead all I have done is read this knitting book and knit. It is called Stitch 'N Bitch and I highly recommend it because it starts from scratch and works you all the way up to knitting ornate sweaters and hats. Plus, it is easy and fun(ny) to read.

So anyway, I've made two pink scarves, two green scarves, two purple scarves, a camouflage scarf and a Spiderman scarf in addition to K's blue scarf. Here shortly I plan to attempt other things like hats and baby blankets before I focus my energies on a sweater, which I don't think will be very far off in my future. If you would like a scarf (of which I am a pro) or some other knitted item, please either place your order somewhere on this blog or email me, alerting me to the item you desire and the color in which you desire it. If you're planning to request something like a leisure suit or pilot's goggles, however, I ask that you have patience as I learn how to finagle something in that direction (you know, like pattern-wise and stuff).

Also, if you want to get started with knitting, I'll be in Boise for the next month and can teach you. Or you could just buy the book I recommend. Or you could go to some of the many cool knitting websites and blogs I found. I like this one to begin with; and then you can look at some of her links.

Happy knitting to you!

Writing

In case you were wondering, here is a link telling you how to write your name in hieroglyphics. Sometimes these things come in handy.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I just want to state for the record that I hate watering the garden with a hose.  This was going to be a list, but I decided to just state it for the record.  Hoses are rubber and therefore get caught up on everything and when you try to pull you pull in vain because it is stuck and tangled.  They are also wet so whenever they touch dirt they get muddy and then you pick them up or brush by them with your leg and then you are all muddy too.  And they leave water trails everywhere - even when you didn't really want water there. 

I have a firm appreciation for sprinkler systems.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It is no good to leave your car windows down and have a torrential downpour, hurricane style rainstorm blow through your neighborhood.  Just in case you thought that may be a good idea.  Please believe me when I say that it is not.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two days until paradigm.

Xerox

For whatever reason, when I wrote my info on paradigm this morning it didn't post.  So I rewrote it and the new one posted.  Now that I read my blog, both posts are there.  I did not allow my psycho alter ego get ahold of my blog sign-in, I swear.  It just wouldn't work.  So there.  I decided to leave them both because I think they're both all right.  Besides, why waste creative talent?
 
And Kelly, I'm glad you at least claim to understand how this will better your eternal and undying soul.  It may just bring you closer to sainthood.  And that is a long row to hoe, my friend.
 

Paradigm

There is a really cool band coming to play a free concert in Boise this Thursday.  I'm writing about it here because I think everyone should attend.  So this is really like a personal invitation.  The band is paradigm and they are awesome.  They sound great and they're fun to watch.  Plus, everyone in the band is super nice and friendly and may just talk to you at some point during the evening because they love to socialize.  Plus, if you go early you could get a new copy of their demo for free.  You know you want to do it....All the cool kids are doing it.
 
By "all the cool kids," what I mean is me.  And Patri.  And Jaime.  And Kelly.  (Although I think he's going mostly so that he doesn't insult me...whatever that means.  Eventually, he will realize that he doesn't need to worry about that.  Eventually he will realize that deep down in his soul he knows that he wants to go to the concert because it will make him a better person.  The same as it will do for everyone who attends.)
 
WHO: paradigm
WHAT: freakin awesome band
WHEN: 9:30 p.m. on Thursday, July 22
WHERE: Grainey's (southwest corner of 6th & Main)
WHY: it is going to be incredibly awesome and way, way fun
COST: absolutely nothing

Paradigm

Just to be cool like Patri, I'm going to make a paradigm announcement.  Well, not only to be cool like Patri, but also because I think everyone I know should attend this concert.
 
Paradigm is a band from Sacramento and I love them.  They sound great and they are super fun to watch on stage.  The show is this Thursday at Grainey's (6th and Main in Boise) and there is no cover.  The show starts at 9:30 p.m., but if you're early (one of the first 35, I think) you'll get a free demo CD.  You know you want to be there....All the cool kids are doing it.
 
By "all the cool kids" I mean me.  And Patri.  And Jaime.  And Kelly. (Although I think he is going reluctantly to avoid insulting me...whatever that means.  Eventually he will learn that he doesn't need to worry about that.  Eventually he will realize that deep down in his soul he just wants to see this band because it is the cool thing to do and he will be a better person for it.  As will everyone else who attends.)
 
WHAT: paradigm
WHERE: Grainey's (southwest corner of 6th & Main)
WHEN: 9:30 p.m. on Thursday, July 22
COST: absolutely nothing
WHY: because it will make you cool

None

In class I sit
albeit not where I wanted
to be
and people
happen around me
with their lives
like wives
who wildly stir mashed potatoes
then toss and turn all night
next to a man who breathes through his mouth
and has forgotten how to touch
how to use his hands
like he means it
like he wants it
like he wants her
and she gets up in the morning
mourning over her clumsy touching, potato night
and she is life.
She is the life around me,
the life I don't know.

Lipstick Feminist

The term "lipstick feminist" has recently been brought to my attention, as I see it everywhere, and there is just one thing I have to say about it.  I hate it.  I found the following statement in an online article at http://http://beauty.ivillage.com/es/wos/article/0,,234992-2,00.html:
 
"I think it's a stupid term -- a reaction to those 70s feminists who said you couldn't wear makeup, you had to wear overalls and you couldn't dye your hair.

"If you look back at the history of feminism, a lot of the great women were either beauties or cared a lot about the opposite sex. Think of Simone de Beauvoir or Mary Wollstonecraft: these were women who had lovers and were passionate. So, feminism doesn't necessarily imply an indifference to appearance. I never thought it did.

"Most women today are feminists without even knowing it. They expect equal pay for equal work. They expect women's health to be as important as men's, and they expect to control their fertility. In a way, feminism has been mainstreamed, and nobody even thinks of it as feminism any more."
 
This is all true.  Sleeping in before spending a day at the spa where I'm going to receive a muscle-relaxing massage and intense and moisturizing skin care and then following that with a nice meal does not make me a non-feminist.  Painting my nails at home, loving to wear make-up and shopping for the perfect pair of shoes for a new dress do not make me a non-feminist.  What is the big deal about taking care of myself?  Why does it have to mean I'm fighting against the female cause? 
 
"Feminist" is not akin to "ascetic."
 
Being a feminist isn't about what you look like.  It's about the policies and beliefs you hold yourself accountable to.  I enjoy wearing make-up because I like putting it on and because I like the fact that I feel it accentuates the more feminine features on my face.  I don't wear it because it makes my boyfriend happy or because my boss has made it part of company dress code.  I know that my new shoes or my pink shirt don't contradict the fact that I disagree with women not receiving adequate health insurance coverage. 
 
Being a feminist doesn't mean I need to hate men any more than it means I need to be one.  Some of my favorite people in the world are men.  My father is a man!  My brothers are men!  I love them all dearly, so why would I call myself a feminist if that means that I hate men?  Because it doesn't.  It also doesn't mean that I need to look, dress like, or emulate men (these two contradictory tenets have always baffled me).  I am a woman, so why try to deny that?  Members of all genders have strengths and weaknesses based solely on their gender...What is wrong with playing up those strengths and using what was granted me by sheer genetics?  Nothing.  
 
In conclusion, being a feminist should not be defined by whether or not you wear lipstick.  Feminists are people who want to see the advancement of women.  They are people who see past sex-based differences and see people as people, rather than as a penis or a vagina.  They want what is good for humanity because they know that all people have worthy thoughts and opinions and that being strong isn't necessarily a matter of brute strength. 
 
Some of my favorite people in the world may be men, but all my favorite people in the world are feminists.
 

General Consideration

Yesterday, Patri and I took some children to the local water park, Roaring Springs.  One such child was her son, Jordan, who I personally find to be an amazing little kid.  Patri had taken her car the day before to the auto body shop to have it worked on after it was hit and the front end slightly mangled, so she was left without her car temporarily.  The rental car company was incredibly difficult to work with and told her things like "Uh, we don't have any cars for you to rent" (after she was supposed to have a car reserved so she went to the office to pick it up) and "We'll call the Meridian office to see if they'll have anything for you" (and then they never called).  Patri was supposed to leave Roaring Springs at 2:30 to have Jordan to Nampa by 3 so that his father could take him for the weekend.  Here was the problem: she had no car with which to drive him to Nampa. 
 
In witnessing the situation, especially after happily helping out by driving her around for two days and allowing her to borrow my car to go to work one night, I thought that she should call Brian (Jordan's father and her ex-husband) and just explain it to him and he would be willing to work with her.  Patri and Brian were at one time, I'm certain of it, in love, but their marriage did not end well at all.  In the last two years their relationship has deteriorated severely.  I wish they would stop making everything miserable for each other because Jordan, this innocent young child, is really the one who is hurting.  I know this one from experience.  I spent my entire life going back and forth between segments of my family and I was always cautious of where I was and what I was saying and who I was saying it to.  My entire life is so much easier now that my parents can talk to each other again.  They'll never know how much that means to me.
 
So anyway, I look at Brian and I see a really great guy.  He's very nice, he is attractive, and he seems very intelligent and witty ... and this is all just from the few limited conversations I've had with him.  Brian, from what I've seen first hand and from what I've heard from Jordan, is an awesome father.  He's very attentive and loving and he takes his son to do things like camping and to the movie theatre.  He plays ball with Jordan and rolls with him in the grass.  He'll squat down in the grass for Jordan to give him a hug and then fall over when Jordan knocks him over with hugs powered with so much love and admiration for his father. 
 
So knowing this, I thought that Brian would be willing to work around Patri's situation.  She told him that she could either meet him in Nampa at 4 (only one hour later than normal) or he could drive an extra few minutes to get Jordan at 3 from Roaring Springs because we couldn't leave there until 3 and she was hoping to leave there and go straight to the rental car company to get the car she had been promised the night before.  His reply was that if she wasn't there by 3, he would turn in a report to the police to supposedly go on the custody battle records or something.
 
This made me see him in an all new light.  He scared Patri (who is a phenomenal mother who would die for her child) and made her cry, which worries Jordan (because if Mommy's upset then his whole world is shaken).  I just honestly thought that he was a decent man and never thought that he would purposely make life difficult not only for his ex-wife (I'll never understand the concept of holding a grudge) but also for his son and for myself.  I guess he wasn't thinking of any of us though, was he? 
 
There's something to be said about people being nice to each other.  If the two of them were just nice to each other, they wouldn't be miserable.  I have no doubt in my mind that Patri would have worked around his situation if roles had been reversed, but when he starts off by being inconsiderate and juvenile, she really has no option but to stand firm.  As firm as possible, anyway...

This isn't a rant on religion.

I saw these two LDS missionaries the other day standing on the corner of a neighborhood street talking to a guy who did not appear to be a missionary, but rather appeared to be a homeowner in the neighborhood. When I drove by, one of the missionaries looked at me. And I felt sorry for him. Him and his friend, actually. I felt sorry for them because they were wearing black pants and ties. I felt sorry for them because they were wearing heavy backpacks. I felt sorry for them because they had to walk all over this neighborhood begging people to let them speak about their religion. Mostly, though, I felt sorry for them because they placed themselves in this position on their own free will.

I've never understood the whole religious process of spreading the seeds of your knowledge and faith, even when I went to church and believed in the gospel. Missionaries, when left to their own devices of spreading love and kindness to people, do a really great job. They take blankets to children, feed starving countries, build medical units and take care of sick and dying strangers. But rarely is it ever left at that. Accepting their good deeds comes with a price - you must then listen to the dogma which promts them to do good.

And that is the thing about religion that really gets me. Everyone thinks "What makes me happy and fulfilled is enough to make everyone else happy and fulfilled, too." But it rarely is. And in the process of spreading that which makes people happy, others fight and reject the notion of living under someone else's lifestyle. Because that's what religion is - it's a lifestyle. Religion dictates whether or not you get up at 8 a.m. on Sunday, the book you read before bed and who you implore for advice.

This isn't a rant on religion. You can see the same thing happening all over the place. When a couple is in love they try to set up all their single friends so that all the single friends can be happy and in love too. Nations find a system of government that works and then try to implement it across the globe. (Hitler started by invading Europe. Britain did it by colonizing the world. The Roman Empire stretched across three continents. America is currently making the world safe for democracy.) Our home turf government is doing the same thing with the same-sex amendment to the Constitution.

Who makes those rules? Who says "my way of life is better than yours" and thinks that just because they can support it with the fact that they're happy and the fact that their method of living works well, that everyone should believe and follow? (Rhetorical questions.) How can people be so ignorant? How can they fail to see that different is NOT wrong, that they're really causing more problems for themselves than some other subversive human - or subversive culture - will ever cause them if this subversive "other" is just left to live and be happy in their own right?

It's frustrating, is all. I think that we don't get along in society not because the minority groups want to make problems for everyone else. I think that we don't get along because the people in the majority are scared. I think we don't get along because the people in the majority cause problems in not allowing differences. They are in the majority because of differences (of income, race, sex, etc.) but yet try to amalgamate everyone under the Majority Umbrella of Sameness. But some people don't want to be under that umbrella; some people like to feel the cool, refreshing raindrops and the more they're instructed to come under the umbrella, the more they resist, the more they thirst for the fresh sky water.

I think we should all swim in the puddles.

It's Starting...

The packing, that is. I have officially started packing. I actually started a little packing in the way of my bookshelves last week, but today I made some serious segue. My room is a complete disaster, but things are organized and ready to go...somewhat.

The Good News

No, this isn't the good news, but I do have a super good feeling, which is the name of a great Christian rock song, actually. The good news is that I am fully registered for classes next semester. I was able to register for three of the four without problems, but had some super difficulties registering for the final one. Difficulties that included calling the school and emailing my professor about 12 times. It is all resolved now...Yay!

Now all I'm waiting for is my room assignment confirmation, list of roommates and information about my graduate assistantship. Yay!

...And at some point in the near future I need to go through my medical records and prove to them that I'm all vaccinated like a good puppy should be...

The Creativity Of My Brother

Not too long ago, my brother turned 18. Since then he has begun making some choices for his life, which is an action I completely support. What I do not support so much is the decisions he is making.

He did not graduate from high school, to top it off. Rather, he is finishing through a correspondence course and summer school. He got his mom to pay for an extension on the correspondence class so that he can have another three months putting off completing it. Summer school on the high school level isn't like it is on the college level. In college the course does not lose any material. Rather, you work at a grueling pace for a super intense five weeks to get a semester ahead or a second chance at passing. In high school, however, you take a class that is dumbed down so that everyone who failed it the first time has a second chance at an A. He has learned this and so this is what he does.

About a month ago he finally got his driver's license. Because he has never had a job, he let his mom buy the car in addition to pay for the insurance. Now he complains about having to pay for fuel...There's nothing like a free ride...

And he's "dating" a girl whom he would evidently be quite upset if she went out with someone else but doesn't have enough courage to talk to her and tell her that. She's apparently just supposed to know.

Two weeks ago he received a misdemeanor for shooting an air assault rifle from a moving vehicle at his friend in another moving vehicle within city limits. He was cited for disorderly conduct.

He has since decided that he is going to fight the ticket. He claims that he is guaranteed by the Constitution to the right to a speedy trial, so he figures that if he takes his enlistment papers in to them, they will rush him right through. He thinks that since he is supposed to leave for the Navy on Sept. 1, they will expedite his process and get him through court proceedings immediately. He plans to hire the same lawyer as his friend ($150/hr to be paid for how...?) to fight the ticket because technically he should have been charged for illegal use of fire arms rather than disorderly conduct, even though his conduct was, by my definition at least, quite disorderly. He also doesn't understand that he cannot simply enter the next available school as he is currently planning (because they fill seats in school a year in advance).

He honestly thinks that everyone is going to bend over backwards making exceptions for him so that his life continues on this easy, gilded path.

I hope honestly that one day soon he wakes up and realizes that he has royally messed up his own life and that it is due to his own ignorance and lack of personal responsibility.

Genetically Confused

In an effort to clear up a bit o' confusion, I will tell you a true statement. I am not Cuban. Nor are either of my parents. It has been a common misconception throughout my life that I am of a minority race, but alas, this is not the case, although there are probably many people who believe otherwise. Why would they believe otherwise, you ask? Perhaps it is because I told them I was. Much like my friend who thought I was Jewish based on the fact that when asked why I didn't eat pork I told him, "Because I am Jewish." But again, I am not.

And so, reader, you may be thinking to yourself "Why would she lie about something like her ethnicity like that? That's really sort of stupid." In which case, you would be correct. Allow me to explain.

I am frequently asked if I am Hispanic, Asian or Pacific Islander, even by people who are Hispanic, Asian or Pacific Islander. For whatever reason, I have been described as being a little bit exotic looking. At times I will flippantly tell someone that yes, I am indeed this minority race they believe me to be, mostly because it is so funny to me because no one in my family - to my knowledge - bears any claim to any nationality other than mainstream, white America. These people, however, don't get my joke. The people I allow to carry on in their lives without knowing the truth about my identity are commonly people I'll never see again. For instance, random people at a bar or the cashier at a gas station in southern Utah. People who I will see again get the truth. And that is that a distant relative of mine is Native American, hence the color and facial features that contradict the Scandinavian, Welsh, Irish and German heritage that the rest of my family exhibits.

And as for the friend who believed me to be Jewish...Well, I thought he knew the joke. The punchline was funny, though. I was standing there as he was telling someone that I was Jewish. I told him I was not. He told me I was so. I laughed and asked him what would have made him think I was Jewish when indeed I was not. He looked at me blankly and replied in a simple and honest tone, "Because you told me you were." Needless to say, we were both confused for a short while.

And so the truth is out. I am sorry to any and all whom I have misled over the years, but now you are all in on my little slice of life's humor. And as a mini disclaimer, I will tell you quickly why it is that I find it so amusing. Because people feel the need to classify me as something they can identify with. Much like people dispise ambiguous gender, there are people who are uncomfortable being unsure what ethnicity I represent and must ask. Most often they assume I am the same as they are. At times it can be rather flattering, to be honest. For instance, just the simple fact that they see something in me immediately with which they feel they can identify. Other times it works out poorly for the both of us. For instance, when I worked at the bank two men waited for me to help them so that I could speak Spanish with them. We were all upset when I couldn't speak Spanish and they called their friend to translate, who explained to me that they thought that of all the bank employees, I would be bilingual. Misunderstanding #1869.

And just for the record, I do eat pork.

Outside

It is so fun to spend time in a neighborhood where people are outside. I love being able to look out the window and see other random humans. They work in their yard. They play catch with their kids. They're walking. They're running. They're with company, they're alone, they are accompanied by a dog. It's so great just to see life. Active life. It makes me feel safe, somehow.