There's nothing that irritates me more than someone coming up to me while I'm reading and getting in my face and asking "WHATCHA READIN THERE?"
Especially if I don't know you.
I will punch you in the throat.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Paska Peruna
I've been playing a lot of volleyball this summer, with a ragtag group of people at Wash Park. One of them is Finnish--a real Finn!--and I was pretty excited when I found that out. Still, I didn't rush over to him and immediately tell him that I used to live in Finland. I wanted to have time to talk about it and also...he's crazy hot, and its scary talking to people who have more muscles on their stomach than I do in my whole body.
Let me just take a moment to say that Finland is very dear to my whole family. We all four loved the time we spent living there and miss it sorely. We are fierce defenders of anything Finnish and I remember getting outraged at my mom when I was younger for pointing out that I am in fact American, not Finnish. There was a time when I thought in Finnish and had a heavy accent when I spoke English. That time is unfortunately long gone, but I like to think the language still lives dormant in me somewhere.
Last week after playing several of us went to a bar and The Finn and I ended up next to each other. The time had come for my big confession. After we had gotten settled I turned to The Finn and said "Guess where I used to live?"
He said "I have no idea...Venezuela?"
(What the fuck?)
Well, that threw me off.
I huffed and stuttered that no, why would I make him guess if that was the answer, of course that's not it, I used to live in FINLAND.
His face brightened just in the way I had been expecting. But then he started to talk about how great Finland is. He sounded like a travel agent, but what's more is that he wasn't telling me anything I didn't know. I kept trying to say "I know" or "you're preaching to the choir" but now it was like we were both speaking words that kept running into each other in midair, instead of filing out in the disciplined exchange that some people call conversation.
Then came the question I knew would come. "Do you speak any Finnish?"
Dammit.
I had to confess that I used to, but now I barely remember it, I can only say the most basic of phrases. "How are you?" "I'm a girl." The most sophisticated sentence that I can piece together right now is "The boy is red."
He wasn't going to let me off the hook though. He told me to just say something in Finnish, anything.
He stared at me expectantly; intensely. My mind went completely blank and even the few introductory phrases I used to rely on slipped out of my brain. I opened and then closed my mouth. We stared at each other. There was only one phrase left that I would never ever forget, but it was sort of abnormal. This was getting awkward. Finally I sat up straight and looked him in the eye and said in Finnish,
"Shit potato."
Its what my sister and I used to call each other when we were fighting.
And do you know, he didn't even laugh? Didn't even crack a smile? How is that even possible. If someone came up to me and those were the only English words he knew, I'd laugh until I cried. I guess its true what they say after all. Finns have no sense of humor.
Let me just take a moment to say that Finland is very dear to my whole family. We all four loved the time we spent living there and miss it sorely. We are fierce defenders of anything Finnish and I remember getting outraged at my mom when I was younger for pointing out that I am in fact American, not Finnish. There was a time when I thought in Finnish and had a heavy accent when I spoke English. That time is unfortunately long gone, but I like to think the language still lives dormant in me somewhere.
Last week after playing several of us went to a bar and The Finn and I ended up next to each other. The time had come for my big confession. After we had gotten settled I turned to The Finn and said "Guess where I used to live?"
He said "I have no idea...Venezuela?"
(What the fuck?)
Well, that threw me off.
I huffed and stuttered that no, why would I make him guess if that was the answer, of course that's not it, I used to live in FINLAND.
His face brightened just in the way I had been expecting. But then he started to talk about how great Finland is. He sounded like a travel agent, but what's more is that he wasn't telling me anything I didn't know. I kept trying to say "I know" or "you're preaching to the choir" but now it was like we were both speaking words that kept running into each other in midair, instead of filing out in the disciplined exchange that some people call conversation.
Then came the question I knew would come. "Do you speak any Finnish?"
Dammit.
I had to confess that I used to, but now I barely remember it, I can only say the most basic of phrases. "How are you?" "I'm a girl." The most sophisticated sentence that I can piece together right now is "The boy is red."
He wasn't going to let me off the hook though. He told me to just say something in Finnish, anything.
He stared at me expectantly; intensely. My mind went completely blank and even the few introductory phrases I used to rely on slipped out of my brain. I opened and then closed my mouth. We stared at each other. There was only one phrase left that I would never ever forget, but it was sort of abnormal. This was getting awkward. Finally I sat up straight and looked him in the eye and said in Finnish,
"Shit potato."
Its what my sister and I used to call each other when we were fighting.
And do you know, he didn't even laugh? Didn't even crack a smile? How is that even possible. If someone came up to me and those were the only English words he knew, I'd laugh until I cried. I guess its true what they say after all. Finns have no sense of humor.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Political Frustrations
One of the things I chide myself over is that when conversations turn toward politics, I tend to put on a self-mute button. Politics lead to so much drama, and I prefer not to be in confrontations of any kind. But I have such strong opinions about politics that maybe I'm doing a disservice by not standing up for my views more often.
Then I actually try to engage in one of these conversations and remember why I don't do it.
On May 31, an aid ship headed to Gaza was boarded by Israeli soldiers. At least 9 people were killed and a media frenzy followed.
A few days later an acquaintance of mine brought up the incident. She started out by saying the media is so interesting, the way they can skew situations, which I fully agree with. Then she said that some news source (that I have since forgotten) showed pictures of the aid workers with knives in their hands.
I stared at her blankly.
Israel, she says, therefore, actually did have to defend themselves from these aid workers.
And I totally snapped. Some people had knives in their hands, so Israel should board their ship and kill people?? Israel has the 4th largest army in the world. Their weapons can do a lot more than slash someone at close range. What the fuck should they be threatened by a few people with knives for?? Additionally, who is to say that those aid workers (or boat personell; its never fully clear who had the knives) didn't run to the kitchen in a panic and grab some knives, their only defense against soldiers with machine guns?
People in Gaza are dying. That ship was trying to bring food and medical supplies. How is it NOT a human rights violation for Israel to be responsible for people starving to death, for people dying of curable medical problems? And you're telling me about a couple of knives. Are you f'ing kidding me?
And that is why I can't talk politics with people. How am I supposed to have a rational conversation over such ridiculous shit.
Then I actually try to engage in one of these conversations and remember why I don't do it.
On May 31, an aid ship headed to Gaza was boarded by Israeli soldiers. At least 9 people were killed and a media frenzy followed.
A few days later an acquaintance of mine brought up the incident. She started out by saying the media is so interesting, the way they can skew situations, which I fully agree with. Then she said that some news source (that I have since forgotten) showed pictures of the aid workers with knives in their hands.
I stared at her blankly.
Israel, she says, therefore, actually did have to defend themselves from these aid workers.
And I totally snapped. Some people had knives in their hands, so Israel should board their ship and kill people?? Israel has the 4th largest army in the world. Their weapons can do a lot more than slash someone at close range. What the fuck should they be threatened by a few people with knives for?? Additionally, who is to say that those aid workers (or boat personell; its never fully clear who had the knives) didn't run to the kitchen in a panic and grab some knives, their only defense against soldiers with machine guns?
People in Gaza are dying. That ship was trying to bring food and medical supplies. How is it NOT a human rights violation for Israel to be responsible for people starving to death, for people dying of curable medical problems? And you're telling me about a couple of knives. Are you f'ing kidding me?
And that is why I can't talk politics with people. How am I supposed to have a rational conversation over such ridiculous shit.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Drunk Talk
Me: Who wants to come to Central America with me in the fall?!
Jo: Let's go to Patagonia!
Me: What's in Patagonia?
Jo: Fuckin, penguins!!
Jo: Let's go to Patagonia!
Me: What's in Patagonia?
Jo: Fuckin, penguins!!
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Its Always Something
Well.
You think you're having a fairly good day and then your key falls out of your pocket and into the toilet.
You think you're having a fairly good day and then your key falls out of your pocket and into the toilet.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Oh, War
Today at lunch I was reading the Westword and in the latest issue there is a cover story about returning Iraqi vets. I already know the numbers well from class; roughly 25% of returning vets have PTSD. That is an astounding amount, for those of you who don't spend all your time talking about trauma and PTSD, like I do.
Anyway, that's really not even the point. The point is, in reading the article about this particular vet, my heart suddenly cracked open and I nearly burst into tears, right there in Chipotle.
I have always been anti-war, pro-peace. Staunchly. People who supported war and/or went off to fight were always, to me, the enemy more than any foreign country or terrorist threat. Reports of dead soldiers from Iraq rarely even caught my attention as my thoughts were always...they knew what they were getting themselves into.
Geez, I can be such an asshole, right? Finally, today, I understood how callous I have been in my thoughts and feelings towards those in the military. Surely, most of the people who join the military really DO feel like they are doing the right thing, like they are fighting for a just cause, their country, their freedom, their families. And all I could ever do was look down on them and think they were full of shit, just because they didn't see things my way. I think of myself as open-minded but it took me 27 years to realize this? For shame.
I am truly embarassed about my lack of empathy in this situation and hope that in the future I can be more respectful towards serving-in-the-military-type issues.
On the other hand, I still just don't get it. While protecting your country, freedom, family or whatever may be deeply important to you, how can there be so many millions of people that think anything at all will be solved by killing others? That is such a juvenile way of dealing with problems, and yet millions of people make careers out of it, devote their lives to it. The success of societies through peace and not war is such an obvious truth to me that it absolutely boggles my mind that not everyone gets that.
Why, why, why is this not a universally accepted truth, like needing air to breathe or water to sustain life, or gravity to stay rooted to the ground?
Anyway, that's really not even the point. The point is, in reading the article about this particular vet, my heart suddenly cracked open and I nearly burst into tears, right there in Chipotle.
I have always been anti-war, pro-peace. Staunchly. People who supported war and/or went off to fight were always, to me, the enemy more than any foreign country or terrorist threat. Reports of dead soldiers from Iraq rarely even caught my attention as my thoughts were always...they knew what they were getting themselves into.
Geez, I can be such an asshole, right? Finally, today, I understood how callous I have been in my thoughts and feelings towards those in the military. Surely, most of the people who join the military really DO feel like they are doing the right thing, like they are fighting for a just cause, their country, their freedom, their families. And all I could ever do was look down on them and think they were full of shit, just because they didn't see things my way. I think of myself as open-minded but it took me 27 years to realize this? For shame.
I am truly embarassed about my lack of empathy in this situation and hope that in the future I can be more respectful towards serving-in-the-military-type issues.
On the other hand, I still just don't get it. While protecting your country, freedom, family or whatever may be deeply important to you, how can there be so many millions of people that think anything at all will be solved by killing others? That is such a juvenile way of dealing with problems, and yet millions of people make careers out of it, devote their lives to it. The success of societies through peace and not war is such an obvious truth to me that it absolutely boggles my mind that not everyone gets that.
Why, why, why is this not a universally accepted truth, like needing air to breathe or water to sustain life, or gravity to stay rooted to the ground?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Dating Tips
I've spent the last couple months dating a slew of idiots. In my defense, I didn't realize they were all idiots before I dated them. I spent a lot of time complaining to my friends about the men I was going out with and the dates I had just finished. But now that I have started school again and no longer have the time to meet new men, let alone date them, I look back on the last several weeks and can't help but admit to myself that it was kind of fun. It was fun thinking of date ideas. It was fun to get dressed up to go somewhere. It was fun once again having the possibility that it might be a boy calling, instead of my mother or best friend (not that I dont love hearing from my mother or friends, best or otherwise). Mostly it was fun dissecting the dates with my friends and laughing over the ridiculousness that is the single male population of Denver.
Of course, I did learn from my experiences. Which of course got me to thinking, I should write a blog about it.
Some lessons I learned:
1. Men do not look good in coats that go past their knees. I'm pretty sure the only man on EARTH who can pull this look off is Denzel Washington, and even that is iffy. But especially if you're shorter than 6ft, for the love of god...just get a shorter coat.
2. I need to stop the cussing. I should fucking know better, but dammit, I can't seem to stop letting the shit fly out of my mouth. Also, I have been taking my cue from my dates, and apparently that's not ok. Even if HE cusses, SHE still is not allowed to. Clearly I didn't meet my soulmate in the last couple months, because I believe that The One doesn't care whether or not I cuss.
3. Alcohol on a first date is not worth it. While it might make you more relaxed in the beginning, you will find on the second date that the sexy and interesting male specimen you met earlier in the week is in fact, when sober, kind of neanderthal-looking and outrageously dull.
4. If a guy says to you "You have such soft skin" and your reply is "No offense, but when is the last time you touched a woman?", he will get offended anyway.
5. Never, ever, ever sit in the front row at a comedy club. Oh wait, I already knew that. I guess the lesson here is never, ever, ever allow your date to convince you that sitting in the front row won't be that bad and that the comediens will not pick on you.
And would this post really be complete without a few tips for the guys? Methinks not.
Men:
1. Don't wear coats that go past your knees.
2. DO NOT EVER pull hair unless you are ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE she's into that.
3. If you are taking a girl out to a fancy restaurant date you might want to make sure that you know where the restaurant is, as well as how to get to the restaurant from your date's house. You might want to also make sure the restaurant is actually open.
And lastly, and this should not be new, but this is the most important part of being with a woman. No means no. No doesn't mean yes. No doesn't mean maybe. No doesn't mean try harder. No doesn't mean she's just "afraid it might feel good" (I still fume with rage thinking of this comment.) When she says no, she isn't just playing a game.
No means no. Respect it, or get the hell out of the dating world.
Of course, I did learn from my experiences. Which of course got me to thinking, I should write a blog about it.
Some lessons I learned:
1. Men do not look good in coats that go past their knees. I'm pretty sure the only man on EARTH who can pull this look off is Denzel Washington, and even that is iffy. But especially if you're shorter than 6ft, for the love of god...just get a shorter coat.
2. I need to stop the cussing. I should fucking know better, but dammit, I can't seem to stop letting the shit fly out of my mouth. Also, I have been taking my cue from my dates, and apparently that's not ok. Even if HE cusses, SHE still is not allowed to. Clearly I didn't meet my soulmate in the last couple months, because I believe that The One doesn't care whether or not I cuss.
3. Alcohol on a first date is not worth it. While it might make you more relaxed in the beginning, you will find on the second date that the sexy and interesting male specimen you met earlier in the week is in fact, when sober, kind of neanderthal-looking and outrageously dull.
4. If a guy says to you "You have such soft skin" and your reply is "No offense, but when is the last time you touched a woman?", he will get offended anyway.
5. Never, ever, ever sit in the front row at a comedy club. Oh wait, I already knew that. I guess the lesson here is never, ever, ever allow your date to convince you that sitting in the front row won't be that bad and that the comediens will not pick on you.
And would this post really be complete without a few tips for the guys? Methinks not.
Men:
1. Don't wear coats that go past your knees.
2. DO NOT EVER pull hair unless you are ABSOLUTELY POSITIVE she's into that.
3. If you are taking a girl out to a fancy restaurant date you might want to make sure that you know where the restaurant is, as well as how to get to the restaurant from your date's house. You might want to also make sure the restaurant is actually open.
And lastly, and this should not be new, but this is the most important part of being with a woman. No means no. No doesn't mean yes. No doesn't mean maybe. No doesn't mean try harder. No doesn't mean she's just "afraid it might feel good" (I still fume with rage thinking of this comment.) When she says no, she isn't just playing a game.
No means no. Respect it, or get the hell out of the dating world.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Some Questions
This is kind of the sister blog to my entry several months ago that was "Some Observations." Actually, I dont remember what I called it, but that title would make sense to me.
Here are some questions that I would like answered. If anyone knows the answers, you should definitely let me know.
There's a good chance this blog will get added on to as time goes by.
As of 1/10/10, these are a few thoughts I've been mulling over:
1) Where do good looking single men grocery shop? I go to grocery stores all over the city, depending on what I am doing, and where I am, and I NEVER see hot single guys in the stores. One hundred percent of the time when I see a good-looking guy getting groceries, he is either attached at the hip with a woman, or wearing a wedding ring. WTF.
2) What in Jesus's name is a 'beautiful nightmare'?
(This next question makes me really really glad that I only tell a few people about this blog.)
3) People have phantom limbs, right? And if someone has lost a hand (or whatever) they can still feel pain in it, they can still feel cramps in it, it will even itch. The other day I found myself wondering, do eunuchs feel phantom balls? And since you can feel pain in parts of your body that are no longer there, do they ever experience...phantom blue balls??
Stay tuned for more brain-wrinkling musings.
Here are some questions that I would like answered. If anyone knows the answers, you should definitely let me know.
There's a good chance this blog will get added on to as time goes by.
As of 1/10/10, these are a few thoughts I've been mulling over:
1) Where do good looking single men grocery shop? I go to grocery stores all over the city, depending on what I am doing, and where I am, and I NEVER see hot single guys in the stores. One hundred percent of the time when I see a good-looking guy getting groceries, he is either attached at the hip with a woman, or wearing a wedding ring. WTF.
2) What in Jesus's name is a 'beautiful nightmare'?
(This next question makes me really really glad that I only tell a few people about this blog.)
3) People have phantom limbs, right? And if someone has lost a hand (or whatever) they can still feel pain in it, they can still feel cramps in it, it will even itch. The other day I found myself wondering, do eunuchs feel phantom balls? And since you can feel pain in parts of your body that are no longer there, do they ever experience...phantom blue balls??
Stay tuned for more brain-wrinkling musings.
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