Procrastination

6.24.2006

The Second Time I Missed the Essex Green (due to driving back & forth to Philadelphia) :-(

World Café at The Warhol
Friday, June 23rd & Saturday, June 24th
Tickets: $15 per person
(limit 4 per person for each show)

Friday, June 23rd
6pm: Katharine Whalen
8pm: Soul Asylum

Saturday, June 24th
2pm: Jackie Greene
4pm: The Essex Green

The taping sessions take place in the intimate Andy Warhol Museum theater for national broadcast to over 100 radio stations in August.



WYEP's Summer Music Festival
Saturday, June 24th
FREE
Festival starts at approximately 5pm

5:30pm: Katharine Whalen
6:55pm: The Essex Green
8:05pm: Jackie Greene
9:30pm: Soul Asylum


** at least I saw them pre-Cannibal Sea ** (and they were awesome)

6.19.2006

a more benign post (*yawn*)

I am a colon!
Find your own pose!



Colon Traits and Tendencies The Colon is the chosen pose of individuals who, on their own, seem awkward or remote. They may be the sort who responds to telephone messages with email, or spends their lunchtimes quietly pedometer-walking in lieu of socializing with coworkers. But when a Colonist finds its mate, together they acquire a grace and ease that surprises friends and family.

Comfort Zone The Colon is one of the Sea Sleeper poses. Other Sea poses you might try: The Ticket Puncher and Sixth Posture of the Perfumed Forest.

A Note About Coping Since Colonists rely so heavily on their partners to give them context and spark, the times when business or family obligations take one of them away from home can leave both sleepers demoralized. To temporarily fill the void, swap in a large, carnival-sized stuffed animal, making sure to keep candles, space heaters, or other combustibles well away from the bedside.

The Fingerprinting

Here is an e-mail that my friend sent to me:

"Good luck this weekend with those finger prints...I'll be thinking of you as they grab your fingers and make you finger print for like 15 minutes straight."

And here is my reply:

"seriously! you're not even joking when you say 15 minutes.

the fingerprinter (is that an official position?) was so nice but i was in such a bad mood when i arrived (...explanation to come...). i really didn't feel like giving her each and every finger 5 times!! (fine, only twice) or making small chat or putting on special lotion or dipping my fingers onto a computerized ink-pad.

plus, well, actually, now that I think about it, the complete story of my fingerprint escapade is for in-person telling only (complete with ethnic biases and gender theory and the like...) and, thus, inappropriate for e-mail.

Fine, b/c I can't resist. I'll type the story. Plus, there is already build up and it's not that funny. It was just "an experience."

for starters, the fingerprinting business was in this non-descript office building in the middle of backwoods NJ (when i arrived my sister's navigation system said: "unknown territory" or something to that effect and the road went blank). The neighborhood is very,...er...politically correct (?), Hispanic.

Once I was lost, due to the navigation system's failure and my detrimental reliance on it's accuracy (stupid me), there was
definitely a road in the city that became more like a "line", where after I crossed it, I was like, ...uh...i probably shouldn't be here. Or should i? then i saw a cop. which made me feel un-safe & safe all at the same time. And then, don't even start with the feelings of guilt that I felt after thinking all of this - i went through the whole psychological experience of - if you are in a neighborhood that looks run-down/maybe unsafe as a female with no karate skills (such as myself), do you 1) play into the stereotypes b/c sometimes they are true and you have to be "safe" or 2) disregard the stereotypes and go on your merry way, which can be both illuminating and naive.

Needless to say, i was anxious and thankful when i found the the non-descript office building. (anxious mostly b/c i didn't want to make this 1 hr drive from my house in Philly again - which is really a 5.5 hr drive from pittsburgh). The non-descript office building also housed the "bilingual spanish speakers community center," which took up the whole first floor (i think). The finger printing office (if it could even be called that) was upstairs. The "office" was an open room, smaller than a high school classroom, with the fingerprinting machinery (along with the necessary lotions and electronic pads et cetera), one woman fingerprinter, and a "waiting area" consisting of three chairs. But, of course (?), there was a line of people getting fingerprinted (which made me wanna ask all of the other fingerprintees why they were there - who knew that fingerprinting was such a lucrative business. i guess it is in NJ). And, yes, they were all speaking in Spanish.

When it was my turn to be fingerprinted, my small chatter with the official female fingerprinter began with her cheering me on in her Spanish accent and telling me that I have to do well - for "us" - b/c most of the people she fingerprints for the NJ bar are male.

now, i start thinking critical race (ethnic) theory thoughts (ironically, after I was just a complete stupidhead. er, or whatever
derogatory term you wish to call me...). My thoughts mainly follow this line of thinking: "most women she would fingerprint would be from this area (bluecollar Latina...), gosh! no wonder she sees mainly men - re: the dissent in the Michigan law school case." Then, I begin to feel guilty b/c she has embraced me as "us" but really I am not her b/c I am white. Plus, she's nice and I'm just annoyed that she keeps pulling on each of my fingers. To make matters worse, my pinky is too small & it takes awhile for the computer to read the print.

then, she asks if I am working nights while studying for the bar. she's kind and smiling like a good-natured mother. Her kids probably can't be older than three or four though - she's pretty young. she's so impressed with my achievement. and sincere. and i just want to throw up. that question was the verbal equivalent of punching me in the stomach. especially because she wasn't sarcastic.

"No, I'm not," I reply briefly, leaving out that small part about how I didn't even take out student bar loans b/c I'm *crossing my fingers* that my parents will pay for my privileged-ass to take (not one but two) bar review courses this summer. right now i'm just living in credit card debt like a lazy bum.

"All finished. All of that Hard work. You're glad it's over, huh?" She smiles. I think she's talking about the fingerprinting but it may be law school. I can't decide. "Really, I mean it, do well. We need more girl lawyers."

As if there wasn't enough pressure to pass the bar, I picture myself on the morning of July 27th. The New Jersey essays have been passed out and we're just waiting for the second hand to get to the twelve so the proctor can shout "begin." Before I turn my papers over, I give the female fingerprinter a shout-out in my mind. "This is for you, mi amiga."

the end.

whew - betcha didn't expect that reply. despite what it sounds like, the experience was very uplifting and resonated with me. i realized how very privileged I was - yes, i was a spoiled brat and more (will the racist please stand up?) - but also how I was privileged in a good way. You too - we are law school graduates! so congrats to us!

thanks for thinking of me & the goodluck & such.

D.U.I.

advice from today's (most boring) lecture: in Pennsylvania, if you get drunk & pull over to the side of the road to pass out, pass out in the passenger's seat & take the keys out of the ignition. then you're good to go. oh! and if you have power windows - just open the door if you need to talk to the cops - though that's not crucial.

6.18.2006

Obviously she doesn't know me

And that "she" can be a few women...

"she" can mean Whitney due to this. I've been plugging this for over a year (and, yes, in nerdy fashion, I have posted "theories" on Y the Last Man websites - in fact, the old Y the Last Man msg boards on the Vertigo website before it got its own.

or, "she" can mean the lady at the NJ fingerprinting place. This is a story that really should be in a post of it's own. So, I'll save it for another day. But, suffice it to say, gosh! do they really need that many prints of my fingertips? (each one rolled separately, then my hand...it was definitely an ordeal)

or, "she" can mean my mom. Without intending for it to be like this, the "ode to my dad" as my family's been calling it (or "my ode" as my dad's been calling it), has left my mom feeling left out. i guess i should've known to be more egalitarian in handing out my odes. really, i just wrote that post about my dad because I was inspired by the Slate article. when the new crossword movie comes out, you know that my mom will get a shoutout. but, for the present record, my mom is awesome. so look forward to my "ode to my mom" post which is coming soon. It will be entitled "Snakes on a Train" and (other than the "hottest" movie of the summer) you'll see why soon.

ps/ i'm really excited to see ed norton's/evan rachel wood's movie. (i just needed to remind myself...so there...i'm reminded). (Down in the Valley).

OMG and! running with scissors - I'm so excited - I actually brought back "Dry," which I started reading this year and put down. I also brought back "V is for Vendetta," which I started like a month before the movie came out and then I left it in Philadelphia. then it was buried somewhere in my sister's room/my brother's room/or my room. and, finally, i found it!

so shhhh!! no plot spoilers.