Hmmmm.

Dec. 28th, 2006 09:07 am
e_juliana: (phoenix rising)
I'm sure most everyone on my flist knows the Chicks' first single off of Taking The Long Way, ""Not Ready To Make Nice". It's fantastic - defiant, unrepentant, a great response to those who tried to censor the Chicks in the wake of an offhand comment made by Natalie.

Part of me thinks that women are a little more likely to adore this song. As a rule, we're the ones taught to be the peacekeepers, to back down, to make things right, make sure everyone's happy. Personal ideals and comfort sacrificed for the good of the whole. But there are times when the other person is just fucking wrong, or abusive, or callous, and they're treating one without the respect one deserves. Odds are if the jackass is stood up to, they'll say "get over it", "it was just a joke", etc. That ain't right.

On a totally personal note, I wish this song had been released earlier. I wish I had had this song in 2004 - maybe I would have realized the abuse going on then. I definitely wish I had had this song this time last year. (Lord, how far I have come in 12 short months.)

I have this song now, though. And it is good. Very good. I still have a lot of anger over all of it - over getting fucked over, over making such an awful choice in 2004, over the sheer callousness of some people - and I'm realizing that it's okay to have that anger. It's okay to be mad as hell. Some really shitty things happened, and the wounds may never heal. That's okay, and it may even be helpful, it may help me avoid such situations in the future. The thought of anger as a positive emotion is a new one for me - my anger has tended toward the destructive and scary. But I am in no way ready to make nice, and that's okay.

Dixie Chicks, "Not Ready To Make Nice"
Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting.

I'm through with doubt,
There's nothing left for me to figure out,
I've paid a price, and I'll keep paying.

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should.

I know you said
Why can't you just get over it,
It turned my whole world around
And I kind of like it.

I made my bed and I sleep like a baby,
With no regrets and I don't mind saying,
It's a sad sad story
That a mother will teach her daughter
That she ought to hate a perfect stranger.
And how in the world
Can the words that I said
Send somebody so over the edge
That they'd write me a letter
Saying that I better shut up and sing
Or my life will be over?

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should.

I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
It's too late to make it right
I probably wouldn't if I could
Cause I'm mad as hell
Can't bring myself to do what it is
You think I should.

Forgive, sounds good.
Forget, I'm not sure I could.
They say time heals everything,
But I'm still waiting.

August

Aug. 28th, 2006 09:59 am
e_juliana: (damndest)
August has not been a very august month for many of my friends. For even more, it's been a month of endings. It's definitely been that for me - at least three endings from my personal history.

Weirdness: my horoscopes keep saying that I should be active, grabbing at brass rings, talking about and acting on what I'm feeling. There's not enough hell no in the world for that. Not now - not during August. Personal history aside, this is not an auspicious month for taking action. Anything started right now will have that tinge of grey over it. I have this odd feeling of sitting tight, with my eyes on the finish line of this month. Not passive by any means, but holding rock-steady, with no sudden movements.


Coming up, a report of the Corb Lund concert on Saturday. Short form: SQUEEE! (He's a hottie!) OMG, they're all amazingly talented musicians. I wish more people had shown up, and I will personally dragoon manymany people into the next concert they hold in SF.
e_juliana: (fucked-up girl)
The Romantic
Test finished!
you chose BY - your Enneagram type is FOUR.

"I am unique"


Unique like a snowflake, you bet. )

(I hate admitting this, but it is kind of dead on. Stupid IntarWeb quizzes. Stupid IntarWeb quizzes that I feel compelled to clean up coding and correct grammar on....)
e_juliana: (fucked-up girl)
That line will still reduce me to tears, every. single. time. I wish I could explain to some people, my husband especially, how deeply I believe that line and how keenly I miss the parts of my family I've had to leave behind, for one reason or another.

It's hard for someone with deep-seated trust issues to build a family, you know? Really hard.

This is my family. I found it, all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.


I hope I'm still good.

Re-Pathing

Jul. 27th, 2005 10:25 am
e_juliana: (b&w)
I've been in my new job for a little over 4 weeks, after being in one place for over 3 years. I'm still re-learning my routes, even though I only moved across the street. The worst time is as I walking to work from the bus stop - I'll almost always go straight on 7th, past the Saks' Off 5th, when it's much easier for me to turn left on Nicollet Mall and go through Gaviidae to reach my building. If I walk in, I'm on Nicollet as soon as I hit downtown, so I don't have the issue. Also, I work in the friggin' bank building. There's a bank on the ground floor and on the skyway level. What did I do when I needed to pull money? I went over to the bank in the IDS tower, 2 skyways away, because that's where I always go. D'oh. I felt like a real jackass when I noticed that one.

The best part about walking through Gaviidae (which means "loon" in Latin - very exciting - and is basically an upscale mall) to get to my building? The Bruegger's Bagel place on the ground floor always makes the entire place smell of fresh bread and coffee. YUM.

I really enjoy walking in to work. It only takes 30 minutes, and my path is through a park and then a greenway/oasis between two huge upscale apartment complexes. Plus, I save $2, I get more exercise, and I am fully awake by the time I reach work (as compared to when I ride the bus and start dozing off mid-way through the ride). And, now that it's finally returned to an appropriate temperature, I can walk home too.

I am so much happier in this new job. The only fear I have is of not doing something right, and yet I know people will work with me and not yell at me if I do screw up. SO. NICE. I have heard through the grapevine that my former boss has been freaking out and saying that she doesn't know what I used to do, because clearly I didn't do anything. Kiss. My. Ass. My friends that are left in the group are not her fans. But here, I feel competent again! I feel interested! I'm also at that stage where I know just enough to be dangerous, so I'm being extra-careful.

waits for entire banking system to go 'splodey because of one bad keystroke from me

Also, I've switched to a new marathon training plan, because I just couldn't do 4 hard runs and 1 easy one every single week and still fit in the needed strength training and yoga. It was wearing on me, and then the heat wave came, and I was just screwed. This one is 3 very hard workouts per week, with hard cross training (biking, weightlifting) twice a week. Not easier, but much more do-able.

Anyway. New paths, new job, new marathon training plan, it's all good. I get to meet new people tonight, too. Yay!
e_juliana: (yes)
One of the most Cancerian traits I exhibit is a need for order and quiet in my environment. So it can be taken as a given that the remodel of our floor here at work that has been going on for the past month is very bothersome, especially since I'm not being given the chance to arrange my main workspaces to my satisfaction (my cube is how I need it, it's the copy room and the filing that are becoming awkward). I know it seems silly, but the upheaval is very upsetting on a few subconscious levels. I'm also cranky on a conscious level, but I know I'm carrying the tension home and that's not good. Zach always tells me that I get too worked up over things. I prefer to think of it as emulating Blanche DuBois (not really, y'all).

Had a phone interview today. I think it went okay despite my discomfort at being on the phone. It's just so much easier when I'm in front of them and can turn on the charm. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll get a call for an actual interview sometime next week. We shall see.

[livejournal.com profile] lyrajane (welcome back!) asked me how I keep from burning out with my full plate of job, theater, running, and being a newlywed. I responded that:

I have to work to support my family.
I have to do theater because I have no choice.
I have to run to blow off the tension I get from work and from dealing with theatrical personalities.

I get tense and upset if I go without any of them for too long. It's a freaky kind of life. Although I think the balance will be much better once I HAVE A NEW FREAKIN' JOB. Ahem.

Also, Z & I have been together so long that the transition to marriage was an easy one. Well, once we were back together and living in the same apartment again. That tends to help processes.


Almost time to go home. I wonder if I should go get a drink with coworkers. Sociable-type people do these things, I'm told....
e_juliana: (Default)
I've been feeling pretty damn tongue-tied lately. Partially because nothing is really stirring me to write anything. I don't - I've felt kind of bleah lately. Like I've lost whatever little charm and/or talent I had in the first place. I'm hoping a lot of it is due to the work situation and recovery, but still. Annoying. Even more annoying? I'm repeating myself.

I'm listening to The Spy Who Shagged Me soundtrack tonight, and I am forcibly reminded of 1) how freaky the song "Time Of The Season" is and 2) how much I love Scott Weiland's voice. I prefer it when he's straight-out singing instead of wailing/howling, but I'll listen no matter what.

Other things I love: The Matrix. It's my new favorite long-run movie, because I can get so wrapped up in watching the pretty and retro-fitting Reloaded and Revolutions into one sense-making movie. Also, watching Carrie-Anne Moss kick ass in tight shiny clothes is quite the motivation.

We just had a smoking ban on bars & restaurant instituted here in the Cities. You would think the sky is falling down for some smokers. I don't know, NYC and California seem to have weathered their bans just fine, with no jack-booted squads showing up. We've got bigger things to focus on and actual rights being lost. A public health regulation seems small potatoes to that.

I've not been spending much time out lately, and some of that time feels, well, wasted. I'm not able to connect with good friends for many reasons, and it's starting to bother me. At the same time, I've realized that an early social pattern of mine was to hang out with people that I didn't have much in common with beyond a superficial level and (more importantly) had a mutual disdain for. I musn't allow myself to fall into that pattern again. Better to be a recluse, which is what I seem to have turned into anyway.

On running - I've realized that I'm capable of far greater speeds that I thought previously. I've had to consciously restrain myself from running too many miles. because I am concentrating on getting my speed up. My next goal is an 8:30 mile, which I should get in a couple weeks. After that, a 26:25 5K (8:30 over 3.1 miles), which should be attained by the end of the month. I also need to remember that strength training and yoga make me a much better runner. Especially yoga.

CT scan was clear, bloodwork was clear, so I think the headaches are a part of my recovery. We'll see what the doc says.
e_juliana: (hoag's object)
I normally don't let myself indulge in the "What if?" game, because it would too easily consume me and/or I get irritated with the wondering about a moot point. However, in this case, not only is it a moot point (for most people), it's been a moot point since before I was born. The question?

Who would I be if I had been born a male? Who would I have become in place of Juliana?

Let's start with the obvious - name. I would have been named Kevin, most likely. I can't imagine myself as a Kevin. The uncle I would have been named after eventually drank himself to death, and the other Kevins I've known have been nice enough, but not especially quirky. More nerdy, which is a distinct possibility. I may have actually gone behind my mother's back to play D&D (she banned it during that period of "D&D causes your children to worship Satan and commit suicide!" hysteria), instead of bowing to the anti-nerd pressure from my girl friends.

I probably still wouldn't have played any organized sports in high school. I definitely wouldn't have been a cheerleader. I doubt I would have had the build to play rugby in college. I also doubt that I would have gone to Gustavus.

The dynamic between my father and me would most certainly have been worse - a replay of the dynamic between him and his father.

I would have been angrier as a teenager. Much angrier (but probably happier in college and beyond. Go figure). Extrapolating from that, I probably would have listened to much more punk and metal. Considering where I grew up, probably metal. I probably would have smoked a lot more pot.

I would probably still have gone all swoony over the idea of The Vampire Lestat and being a vampire. Some things are more a product of teenagerdom than gender.

I probably (and this is a statement of great danger) would have been a better actor. The things that trip up my acting are problems that female performers - comedians especially - run into all the time. The need to be liked. The need to be accepted. The need to look good. The fact that if a woman is tough, she's a bitch, but if a man is tough, he's sexy. If a woman complains, she's whining. Shit like that, both mental and external.

I have no idea of what my sexuality would have been. I'm sure I would have been straight or straight-acting in high school, because Fairbanks is very much a small town and it's hella dangerous to step outside the norms there.


Beyond high school is really a cipher to me. I can imagine what a young & a teenaged male me would have been like, but the events that led to me going where I did for college were so very random that I can't make an educated guess on what an XY version of me would have done.


So. That's a possibility of what would have been me. What about you? What if you had been born a different gender?
e_juliana: (kickass)
(Yeah, this is navel-gazing. I'm amazingly competent at cat-vacuuming when I have bigger issues to contend with. Lemme work through this so I can go slounge.)

Contemplating my insistence on my moniker, I found myself wondering why I am so vehement about the matter. What is the difference if someone calls me juli or jules or julie?

It comes down to identity, I think. People build their sense of identity on various things. One person may have as his bedrock the fact that he is a male. Another might build her world around the fact that she has a large family. Self-identity comes from a lot of different sources, but I think that everyone has a few core things that provide the structure for everything else, and that those core things vary (as so many things do) from person to person.

So, why is my name a core component for me? Specifically, why my first name? I have no attachment to my last name beyond the fact that it's been mine for nigh on 30 years. So, why my first name? What's in a name? It is neither hand nor foot.... Right.

Let's see... I was Julie until I turned 10 or so, I think. Even then, I hated silly nicknames like 'Julie Boolie' and 'Jules'. 'Round about 6th grade, I dropped the 'e' out of the name, and became 'Juli'. (Some people still haven't picked up on the original shift.) When I was 17, I shifted over to 'Juliana', because I did finally feel as if my name suited me. I liked the length and the slight edge of formality. The shift didn't really catch on until I went to college a year later, but it was still there.


In my personal history, juliana is someone who has managed to fuck up royally and still come out of it alive. She's grown a tremendous amount, and has become comfortable in her own skin.

'Juli' or 'Julie' , especially in mouths of acquaintances and strangers, is like wearing an old and impossibly dated outfit. It doesn't fit right, it doesn't flatter, and it feels like a sore thumb. The Juli that I was was a very lonely, very insecure child. Julie was even worse. ('Juli' in the mouth of my family feels like wearing my at-home sweats - comfortable and familiar.)


I have a tendency to abandon past history. Sometimes it takes me longer (Alaska and my father, for instance), but I always end up burying it and moving on and not wanting much more to do with it. It's harder when it's your name, I guess.


Oh, and speaking of past history? Old boyfriends keep popping up. They need to disappear, damnitall.

(Also, if anyone reading is panicking about calling me 'Juli', please don't. My last two posts to the contrary, it's really not that big of a deal. Unless you've just met me in any form and call me Julie. Then we need to talk.)
e_juliana: (stare)
At least this one has some interesting questions (it's "How To Think Like Leonardo da Vinci". Exciting.)

Are you less curious or more curious than you were as a child?
How do you feel your early schooling experiences helped or hindered your curiosity?
Did you have a favorite teacher who encouraged you?

What would you study if only you had the time?



I'm probably less curious. I sort of feel that that is how I'm 'supposed' to answer, though. I was insanely curious as a child, but not about things that were right in front of me. I tended to just accept situations, instead of working to change them. Still do, in fact. I still have the abstract curiosity, and can often be found looking things up in dictionaries and the web. I miss having quick & easy access to a library. It's not like the library is far, but it's far enough, and I usually have to use my lunch hour for other things, like PT.

Early schooling - most of it helped. I was in the accelerated programs, and the teachers were very good about encouraging us. The later schooling with stacks of homework & memorisation did not help. Too busy and tired to be curious.

I can't really remember most of my non-high school teachers, so I don't think the question is applicable. All of my high school teacher (with the exception of the Physics teacher) were quite encouraging. I was lucky to go to a school that valued academics over athletics.


I think the better question is: what wouldn't I study? I'd love to get in-depth with an internal combustion engine, I want to learn to play the cello, I plan to take tango lessons soon, I want to be more aware of environmental issues....


I want to learn everything. And that is just as paralyzing as no curiosity.


Future assignments:

Set an alarm for 10 minutes. Then free-write on:

The happiest day of my life
My most vexing challenge
My talents and what I'm doing to develop them


That will have to wait until I don't have work to do. Hmmph.
e_juliana: (stare)
If Someone's Behavior is Confusing, Befuddling, or Upsetting you? Ask them for Clarification.

Also, sometimes Being Blunt and Tactless is Necessary and Right. Not often, but sometimes.


(Additional Addendums as Thoughts Permit.)
e_juliana: (hoag's object)
Being Direct is a Very Good Thing.

Being Direct does not equal Being Blunt and Tactless.

Being Direct does not equal Being Rude to People You Do Not Like, especially when in Social Situations.

People You Do Not Like may turn out to be People You Like, or People That Can Help You.

Even if People You Do Not Like remain People You Do Not Like? Being Polite and Civil to them helps grease the wheels of Social Situations.

It is better to err on the side of Too Polite and Civil. Use the many drawing-room comedies and BBC dramas you have seen as your Model.

If the People You Do Not Like are nasty to you, be even more Polite and Civil to them. They will go crazy wondering what you are Up To.

Even People You Do Not Like can be Amusing at times.

Being Polite and Civil can co-exist quite comfortably with Being Direct. It's simply a matter of Place, Time, and Mode of Expression.

Semi-regularly revisit and reassess your Opinions of People, especially the People You Do Not Like.


And Most Importantly:

To Thine Own Self Be True. Just remember that Thine Own Self can always be Improved.




(Actually, to be Blunt for a moment - I tend to think that most people in my personal aquaintance could stand to learn and remember and put this into practice. I can only speak for and to myself, however. And it's not easy, by any means.)

(There will be Addendums as Thoughts Permit.)
e_juliana: (mystery)
Gronk.

Morning.

Last night was the first night of tech, which actually went surprisingly well. It's a testament to our stage manager, the set designer, and how short the show is that we were out and done in 2 and a half hours. Well, there were costumes to be tried on, but that doesn't count so much.

Carson-boy was a doll and gave us a ride home, so we naturally invited him in and fed him gin & tonics (side note: He says that he's been told that G&Ts are a wussy drink? Wha? I have never ever considered anything involving gin to be wussy, and a G&T is one of the classic drinks. Has anyone else ever heard this?). It was a lot of fun, actually, to just sit and babble and talk about theater and the show in particular and listen to a different perspective. There was, as happens often, a discussion of men vs. women in theater, and why it's so often the case that the good actresses are nuts, and how so many more guys seem to be able to just drop everything at the door to the theater. I thought of a few things. First off, it's really hard to be a female performer. Speaking very broadly, we as young girls are told not to show off. The boys are funny, the boys goof and don't get called on it, the boys yell and run about and are indulged or at least tolerated. Girls are put in dresses and are told not to hang from the monkeybars, not to run about, not to yell, etc. (Again, I'm speaking broadly.) And then there's the role models. The male to female ratio of good performers in general is still heavily skewed toward the male, and the men all seem more normal, as a rule. Because there's more of them, I suppose. Easier to appear "average".

Also, when compared to the men in this town? There's a serious dearth of female talent. For every good female actor, there's 5 good male actors. It's a little depressing, and it's hard when you don't have any new competition, or when your competition is chiefly comprised of your friends-of-many-years.

Women are judged constantly. This one's a bitch. This one's a whore. This one's a goddess. This one's a neurotic mess. Men are judged too, but that judgement never seems to carry the same weight, either internally or in the eyes of society. Why is that? So women become defensive, protective, wary.

{There's something in here about attacks on character, and how they can translate into real physical danger for women, but I think I'll have to come back to it. It's not unspooling just yet.}

(Please remember, I am continuing to speak specifically and broadly at the same time. There are a million-and-one examples of neurotic, messy men, and strong, capable women. I am looking at the situations I see every day, and trying to apply ideas from a general theory on to it, because I believe I can, and I believe it might help at some point. I may be wrong.)

Basically? It's the same fight women are fighting in all areas of public life. We (still!) have to work twice as hard to prove ourselves. It's just that when "proving yourself" means putting everything that you have and that you are out for Joe Q. Public to see and judge and attack, there's a much greater chance of developing neuroses.

It's not an excuse. And this situation may not appear anywhere else. It may be specific to the Cities. I'm not sure.


ANYWAY. That was a digression, wasn't it?

The entire point of that whole mess is that I still haven't punched through that extra hurdle of "nice girls don't show off". I haven't quite gotten over my fear of taking the stage and demanding focus (this is mostly about Suzanne, the first girl). She needs balls.

(Part of the problem is that Steve Martin is a very funny guy, and he loves women [though he doesn't understand us], but the women in this story are adjuncts. At least mine are. All of my women are there to be with one of the other characters. That's not as fun.)

So, Suzanne. She is 19, she is a free spirit (wasn't everyone in Paris at that time?), and she is a horndog. She is there for Picasso (within the show), and she is there to tell the audience about Picasso.

I've made her clear and simple, and I think I've gone too far. She needs more earthiness. She's there to get laid, and it needs to show. She needs to be bigger and more stagey.


The entire cast needs more energy, but I can't do anything about that. I can punch her up even further.

Okay. How do I do that?

I'm seriously considering a half-shot of tequila right before I hit the stage. Just enough for the tequila-effect to kick in.

Nah. Don't want to become on of those actors.

<.assumes Pooh-position>

Thinkthinkthinkthinkthink.
e_juliana: (stare)
From the lovely [livejournal.com profile] cindyamb, inspired by the amazing [livejournal.com profile] debg:

The New Me Meme Meme:

1) List all the one word descriptions you received in your Me Meme. Include duplicates, because if 8 out of 16 people tell you you are passionate, you have a theme. It's up to you whether you include the joking responses.

2) Paint us your portrait in words, based only on the impressions given by those one word descriptions (don't include your own truth, yet, just paint a word picture that tells us what your Me Meme results tell you about how people see you).

3) Now you get to add your own two cents. Tell us where/how this picture accurately represents you, and where it veers from the real you.

Listy list )


Analysis )


I'm still mulling over "angular". I like it, because I think that is a good description of me-as-person most of the time. I'm not good at curves in my thinking.
e_juliana: (kickass)
From this article in today's STrib:

"We don't know what course the friendship might have taken from the beginning if we asserted ourselves and our boundaries," she said. "We end up feeling betrayed, and the truth is that we almost always play a significant role in our own betrayal. We ignore what we know, how we're feeling. We let people get away with things, and then, when it happens one too many times, we act like we're surprised and have been betrayed -- and that's not fair," said Sanderson.



I really should have seen that 7 or 8 or 9 months ago. I think it would have helped. Maybe not. I was pretty far down in my own pain, and unable to assess the results of a lot of my actions. As it is, it's over and done with, and I'm dealing with the consequences, good and bad.


[babbling cut due to excessive self-repeatage]

I'm noodling here, and it's frustrating me. I've got real thoughts on the subject of boundaries and human interaction, and I can't break through the fog of tiredness.


ION, people are pissing me off. Specifically, the people who are allowing the transit strike to continue for the foreseeable future, the people who are perfectly okay with depriving a section of law-abiding citizens of rights afforded to others - namely them, and the people who have such immense disrespect for the general public that they feel perfectly justified in blatantly lying about everything under the sun and accusing their opponents of being mistaken. Those people need a good cluesticking or three. Dammit.

Karaoke.

Jan. 22nd, 2004 02:22 am
e_juliana: (drink)
Whuf. Interesting, interesting night. Yes.

Sang 3 songs - "Jack and Diane", "These Boots Were Made For Walking" (request), and "I Want Your Sex". I was iffy on singing the last one, because there were conventioneers.

Ah, conventioneers. The bar is very close to the convention center, so conventioneers will occasionally stumble our way. I'm normally grateful for the business, but... Well, it's much like when a small town is adacent to a military base (like Fairbanks). The GI's are miles and miles away from home, having to at least fake like they are enjoying themselves, and, as a rule, are on the make. Conventioneers, not being 18 nor having a freshly-shaved head, are not quite as bad, but I think you get my point. When they walk in, they get watched. Especially when the group is entirely male. Most of the time, it's not an issue. Tonight, it wasn't really an issue. Some were pigs, but most respected the space.

However, there was still that heightened watchfulness, which, in some of my friends, translates into a readiness to fight. Why? Because they're idiots. Anyway. This time, it was my friend DP. DP is a bartender-cum-actor/tech director, and he has had to 86 many a person from his bar, sometimes needing to do so multiple times for one person. The brother of one such person walked in with 15 minutes to go, and plopped his ass down at our table. He holds a grudge against DP. Fair enough. However, it's our table and has been for over 4 years. We don't know him, we didn't invite him. DP was making noises about fighting, and Idiot Dude (ID) was baiting him. Finally, since DP, Z and I were sharing a cab home, I plopped down next to ID and asked him why he was at our table and why he was bothering my friend.

Now, you have to understand. I don't do that. I am non-confrontational in the extreme. But I've been working on standing up for myself and my friends, so I decided to try to avert the mayhem. DP, not helping, told ID that he was in real trouble now that I was in the mix. ID asked why he should be scared now that a woman was talking to him. This was followed by a leaning back by everyone who was watching, waiting for the explosion. I told ID that he needed to go, that this was our table, that he was bothering us. He replied that he was going to sue me, that this was America and he knew his rights (oy. [livejournal.com profile] theferret has something to say about that attitude, but I can't find the post), that he couldn't be removed from the table. I told him that it was a privately-owned establishment, and they reserve the right to kick out or move whomever they wish. He demanded to see the papers declaring that it was a private establishement. After a few rounds like this, and after our friend M got into it as well, I caught the barback/bouncer's eye and jerked my head toward ID, asking him to kick ID out. He tried, and ID threatened to sue his ass for a breach of Constitutional rights.

Finally, ID left, calling DP out the entire way. DP was more than ready to follow him out, but M and I managed to persuade him that jail time would be non-conducive to him getting to rehearsal. Three was much patting of the back and manly thumping, as well as compliments on how I handled ID. The cab came, and we left.

There's not many nights like this. I wouldn't go if there were. But sociologically? It's fascinating. And personally? I'm kind of proud of myself. I wish I had had the wit to cut this drunkass down so he would have left on his own. but that's something I doubt I'll ever have. What I do have now is the knowledge that I can tell people to stop bothering my friends and take a complaint to management if they want to or if I need to. A little bit of faith in myself. That's pretty cool.

Man. It's past 2 a.m. I will be an incoherent wreck tomrrow. Oy.
e_juliana: (raven)
Are a lot like a reception.

A good-sized group arrives right off the bat, excited and buzzed and talking about the same thing. More people start trickling in, expanding the range and creating quite the party atmosphere. Fun is had, frivolities are exchanged, new pairings are created. Soon, even more people start coming in, and then it's loud and crowded and people are enjoying themselves and there's no room to move and it's too loud to have a good discussion and then it gets louder and more crowded and then....

People start to leave. Some have other parties to go to, some are tired and need to go home, some are sneaking off with a new playmate, some got too drunk and had to be forcibly ejected. Other people start leaving as they run out of conversation partners or as they realize the time. Eventually, the only people left are the friends who always stay until too late, even as the room gets cleaned up around them and the hosts are drooping on their feet.

And eventually, those people leave and the hosts lock up and go to bed.


Okay, maybe not. Such are the comparisons that arise in my brain when I'm struck with insomnia. But there's a few old communities that I used to haunt that have gone through that cycle. I don't like it, but it seems pretty inevitable....
e_juliana: (raven)
There's a discussion going on on one of my boards that makes me want to bawl my eyes out, so instead of posting there and being all incoherent and shit, I'm trying to corral my thoughts here:

.....

Never mind. I don't have the emotional or intellectual energy right now, and anything I type sounds like a pathetic whine for strokes. Screw that. Suffice to say that I know damn well I'm not as smart as my parents thought I was, and it's something I get to learn to live with, much like this right knee.


Anyway. The other point of this post was to clarify the question that I added to the meme I just posted:

21. The children's game where everyone sits in a circle, one child goes around patting everyone's head saying, "duck, duck...", and then another child gets up and chases the first child, and the first child has to get to the vacated spot before the chaser catches them?

duck, duck, GOOSE


You see, here in Minnesota, children apparently play a game called "duck duck grAy duck". So instead of a simple "duck, duck, duck, duck, duck, GOOSE" (run like hell), they play "[color] duck, [color] duck, [color] duck, [color] duck, [color] duck, GRAY DUCK" (run like hell). This is a major bone of contention in every freshman dorm in Minnesota come the month of September. It's very strange, and apparently limited to MN-only. Since I'm an instigator, I like teasing my gray duck-playing friends every once in a while.
e_juliana: (mystery)
Free Will Reading for Cancer


This is one of those rare moments when laziness can be an asset. Fate is conspiring to rejuvenate you, and all you have to do is make sure you don't get in the way. I suggest, therefore, that you follow the advice of the Zen master who said, "Don't just do something, sit there!" I mean it, Cancerian. Empty yourself of ambitions. Burn your to-do list. Tell your monkey mind you're taking a sabbatical from its obsessive leaping and shrieking. Feel absolutely no guilt as you practice the art of making yourself a tabula rasa.



It's either a hell of a concordance or a coincidence.

(I have a monkey mind!)

(I can go anywhere!)

Notsomuch

Aug. 8th, 2003 10:42 pm
e_juliana: (sandman)
with the doing well.

Have repeatedly made an ass of myself and been thoughtless.

Must get head out of whereverthehellitis before I do any more damage. Must must must.

Cannot sleep. Bad thoughts.

Scotch not gonna help tonight. Valerian root stopped working a long time ago.

Hmmm.

Movie. Yes. Maybe "Wallace and Gromit".

Articles hopefully turn up tomorrow.

Profile

e_juliana: (Default)
e_juliana

December 2011

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
1819 2021222324
25262728293031

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 25th, 2017 02:40 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios