3: February 2002 Archives

Lloyd talked a bit about all the places he's lived. It's an impressive list. I guess the main reason to post mine in reply is to demonstrate the stark contrast.

• 1976-1978 - Corpus Christi, TX


• 1978-1981 - Ingleside, TX (across the bay from Corpus Christi)


• 1981-present - Corpus Christi, TX (again)
• Topeka St.


• Montclair Dr.


• 1995-present - Austin, TX
• University Ave.


• Willow Creek Dr.


• Grove Blvd.


• Peterson Ave.



Just for perspective's sake, none of these places are more than 200 miles from one another.

The seven years I've been in Austin represent the total of my undergraduate, graduate, and professional career, and probably until I started graduate school in 1999, I still considered Corpus Christi home. I'm now at that awkward stage of slowly changing over my permanent address to be my apartment in Austin. There's just too much time between trips to see the family at the coast.

So, home.

My mom was a navy brat. She moved every year or two and spent seventh grade in three or four different schools. I don't know if she'd know what to answer if you asked her for her hometown. It made her an introvert and gave her the ability to entertain herself. As a result, she wanted for me the exact opposite -- stability and the ability to grow up in the same place, so I could make friends and grow attachments.

And so it was that I spent my entire school career in the same house, and of the people I met in first grade, many went to college with me. Of course, the border between new friends and old friends isn't as impermeable as it might seem. New people came into the school, and in high school, our networks split up based on neighborhood; but the mutations were generally organic. Friends weren't ripped away -- they were just a little harder to get to.

And sure, it allowed me the ability to know people really well, and to let them know me, but you can't underestimate the liability of having people around you all the time who knew you when you were six. That's a very long memory.

So when it came time for college, I looked forward to the fact that there were some people I'd never see again. I relished it, in fact, and I still do. But in college, even though some of my old friends were present, I more or less lost touch with all of them. I guess that's the point where we all grew up and took steps toward learning who we really were. And that's when we became bound by interests, rather than neighborhoods or old alliances.

And that, I think, is when home changed.

...and when you're at the Cactus, and the music from the stage travels farther than the dim lights which illuminate it, if you turn a bit to the left, you'll see a framed poster on the wall. And reflected in the glass covering that frame is the ghost of the music, as though etched in the reflection like a memory. The person on stage is framed by an audience and curtains and a room and life, but the person in the reflection is surrounded only by darkness. Her features are blurred and made anonymous, as she assumes the visage of the legends who've preceded her. She's stirred into the history of the room like eggs into batter. And even when she leaves the stage, her features remain, etched into the memory of the Cactus.

And Lucy Kaplansky was phenomenal, truly. I've seen her once before at the Cactus, and I was rather afraid this appearance wouldn't live up to the last one. But she was personable and in lovely voice and truly great and played all the songs I hoped for, and I wished she wouldn't leave.

But like all great things, her concert came eventually to an end, leaving only some melodies in my head...

...and a reflection in the glass on the wall.

Did you know there's a show called "Texas Justice"? No shit. And it's cringeworthy. Imagine Ross Perot pretending to be Judge Judy. They had (no kidding) this judge in his robes wearing a cowboy hat in the opening credits.

No wonder people think Texans are all inbred idiots. (Not that Dubya is helping our case at all...)

He calls New Orleans "Nawlins," says "y'all" in court, and dispenses backwoods cliches disguised as wisdom. And I have to wonder what marketing exec came up with this idea.

"Texas is really popular these days," he must've said, "now that George W. Bush is in office. And this guy, he's so no-nonsense, like the other 47 lawyers who have nationally syndicated court shows."

And I wonder whose idea it was for him to say, "Order in the court, y'all."

The whole thing is blasphemy and some sick vehicle for advertisements for American trucks.

I spent the evening at Claudia's, watching Indian movies. It was a cultural experience on several levels. Indian movies are a lot like Broadway musicals. First, the characters expound on some bit of plot, then they sing about it. At length.

The movies are long and incredibly cheesy, but they were still entertaining. We started watching at 4:45pm, and by the time we gave up for the night, it was midnight, and we hadn't finished the second movie. No, seriously. They're long.

And based on what Claudia's friend (who's Indian) was telling us, I concluded that Indian movies are a window into Indian culture in the same indirect way that American movies are. Media aren't a direct representation of a culture or a country, but they reflect on society exactly as society reflects on them.

So after the Indian movie marathon, it was a late night before I went to bed, and the cats had declared war on one another, so they weren't helping. Morning came far too early, so I made a rather conscious decision that I wouldn't be bothered with hurrying to work.

It was chilly out, so I, bundled in my coat, trudged my way to the bus stop. On the way, I noticed one of those black edging strips that are generally used to separate a garden bed from the grass around it, dividing two yards. And that got me to thinking about fences and the politics involved with them. People take their yards very seriously, you know.

I wanted to take pictures of the fences and dividers I saw, but Claudia's borrowing my camera, so it'll have to wait until Thursday or so, when I'll present my fence philosophy essay, complete with illustration. I really spent far too much time thinking about this as I waited for the bus.

Yeah, okay, I'm game for filling out a survey for Amanda's gender project. Never mind that she doesn't read my weblog. I'll have to find some way of letting her know I answered.

For the record, I'm a 25-year-old girl.

1. Would you be comfortable dressing your son in pink?
Maybe... if he wanted to wear it. I'm not sure I'm comfortable dressing anyone in pink.

2. Would you be comfortable crying in public?
no

3. Would you vote for a female president?
Yes, definitely.

4. Do you think women should be in the armed forces?
As it stands now, there's no draft, and people who join the military do so voluntarily. And yes, I think that women who want to do so should be able to join. It becomes more complicated when you start talking (hypothetically) about involuntary military service. I don't like the idea that anyone would -have- to join the military, but then, I can't justify asking (as a woman) for equal rights but not being willing to accept equal responsibility.

5. Do you smoke?
No

6. Do you drive fast?
My current car just won't go that fast, but with my previous car, yes, I drove fast.

7. Do you enjoy shopping?
In moderation.

8. Should males be the one to propose?
Not necessarily.

9. Do you enjoy poetry (be it listening/reading/writing it...)?
I often find it dull.

10. Do you do the laundry?
Yes

11. Do you know how to change a tire?
Yes

12. Do you feel pressured to look good?
Sometimes.

13. Do you like kids?
Yes, but I like that they can go home, too.

14. Do you want children of your own?
Maybe, someday. I need to grow up a lot first.

15. Do you listen to rap?
Nope

16. Do you listen to pop?
Not generally.

17. Do you consider yourself emotional?
If by emotional you mean that I'm easily upset and cry at the drop of a hat, then not really. But I often let my intuition guide me in my beliefs and opinions, and I think emotions feed into that. So maybe.

18. Do you enjoy any sports?
I like to watch college football. I enjoy participating in most sports. Well, at least the ones where I'm not likely to break a leg.

19. Do you fix mechanical stuff?
Yes, I'm a tinkerer.

20. Are you neat?
Sadly, no. I'm rather untidy. It's one of my vices.

In the process of trying to add to my Googlewhack list, I discovered another potential game: Googlestacking. Think of it as philanthropy for your fellow Googlewhacker.

Some combinations of two googleterms are so descriptive that they should have results, but for whatever reason or twist of fate, they don't. In order to be a proper Googlestack, the terms should be used together in a sentence or short paragraph, in order to create a potential Googlewhack for someone else.

I'll keep a running list of these.

• The oregano rolled into a blunt was a rather serendipitous psychotrope. Score: 316,410,000