Saturday, June 28, 2014

Naked Bike Ride!

My one (half Sudanese) (half British) friend - the sister of my original (half Sudanese) (half British) friend, though now I'm also friends with her - was in the north part of the city the other weekend and the annual naked bike ride rolled past her when she was outside, she was telling me.

First, she was surprised by how many people participated.

Second, she was surprised by how many people were on bikes from the city's bikeshare service.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Crossword Evening (2 of 2): Black neighborhood bar.

After the sun set, me and my one hippie friend from Michigan went to the (black) neighborhood bar to have some drinks and do the crossword, which was exceptionally hard and took us around 4 hours to do together, and even then we had to look up the answers on 3 clues (2 we had right guesses, a 3rd we couldn't figure out for the life of us).

A DJ was set up, and at one point 2 aging (black) people  --  a (copper-skinned) (gay) (scrawny) (old) (black) guy in a buttoned shirt that hung straight down from his shoulders and in jean shorts with bright white socks around his thin ankles, and a(n older) (tiny bit big) (dark-skinned) (black) woman with sunglasses  -- danced together out in the middle of the bar to Candi Stanton's "Young Hearts Run Free".

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Crossword Evening (1 of 2): Sunset watching.

This past weekend my one hippie friend from Michigan came out to the lakefront after she got out of work to meet and do a crossword with me, which we never got around to there, however, since outside was so beautiful and we just walked around and kept looking at everything.

The rain was finally going away, and between the rainclouds and the water and the sunset, the sky was just spectacular:  far out on the lake dark clouds over lighter water, and clouds wrapping around the city skyline, and orange pieces to the north where the sunset could reflect through to the east, and then a few very small patches of sky where bright light blue was shining through.

"Look at that blue hole!", my friend was like, pointing.

Then, she was like, "It's Mother Nature's vagina," since it was a bit sharp-ended ovalish, with a smaller slit of a cloud down the middle.

"For a second there I thought you were going to talk about ass-fucking a Smurf," I was like.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Had to send a package to my mother...

I had noticed a small, plastic, cornflower blue measuring cup sitting out in the dishrack in my apartment, and I had assumed that it was one of my roommate's for some reason, though it oddly looked like one from a set of measuring cups at my parents' house.

Then, over the weekend, my mom asked me on the phone if she had left a measuring cup there during her and my dad's recent visit.

"Could you send it back?", she was like.  "I use it to measure raisins into my cereal every morning and I miss it a lot."

I find that comment very cute, how attached she is to this little object that she uses to measure her fiber intake.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Gossip about Pope Francis: Tidbits from Rome

I completely forgot this gossip I heard about Pope Francis from a (priest) I know who has a Ph.D. from my program and I ran into at the conference this past fall:

Basically, he says an audience with Pope Francis is the hottest ticket in Rome, and no matter how you pull connections, it's tough to get one, and the people who manage are street sweepers and busboys and whatnot.

Clerics in Rome are also talking a lot about his advice that if you're driven by career, just resign and go work in a rural area and get your priorities straightened out.

There's also a rumor that Pope Francis has donned a black cassock a few times and gone out in Rome at night, including to try the pasta at this one small restaurant with a reputation for good pasta, and when he was there he sat with his back to the dining room so no-one would see him.

Also, people say when Pope Francis looks at you, it's like a spotlight and you're the only person alive, and he's fully present with you and you have his full attention.

"Not like John Paul II at all," he said, speaking from experience.  "I met him a few times, he would be with someone and his eyes would be going around to see who else was in the room."

When we concluded our conversation, he was like, "It's like John the 23rd reborn," he said as his last words.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Memories of Baltimore (2 of 2): Conversation with a guy on the street.

As I was walking from my hotel down through a bad few blocks in order to get to this one complex of historical Catholic sites, this kind of older drugged-out looking (black) guy with sunglasses who was standing on a cement slab in front of a building started wagging his left hand at me with his pinky and thumb out...

"Hey, sorry, I don't smoke," I was like.

"No man, I wasn't asking for a lighter," he was like, "I was just saying, 'COOL'."

"That's cool," I was like, "'Cool' about what?".

"You look like that one guy, you know," he was like.  "That one guy, that redheaded guy with the dreads."

"Who?", I was like.

"That one guy, the redheaded guy with the dreads," he was like. "He was in that band...  What was it... Level 42.  They're on my 'Best of the 80s' cassette."

Then, he kept swearing I looked just like him.

He also said he had a lot of gay friends, and that when he used to deal drugs, people would call him 'Santa Claus'.

"Because I would knock on the door," he was like, "And people would say, 'A-who who whooooooooo's, there?'", and the way he said the word "who", it sounded like "ho".

He added that he had good delivery times, but people were looking out to kill him and even shot at him, so he got out of the business.

The building he was in front of looked like it was transitional housing for homeless people, from the people who were coming out of it as we stood there talking.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Memories of Baltimore (1 of 2): General impressions.

You know, the longer I think about it, the more I realize what a completely special place Baltimore is, and I'm so glad that I had a chance to visit there for my conference this past fall.

From my time there, I loved:

1) The name "Charm City", esp. since I first saw it on a park bench that was falling apart.

2) Haphazard zoning so downtown is like Times Square in the 1970s, where strip clubs and sex shops are next to stores are next to bars are next to residential and university buildings.

3) The density of old architecture and historical sites (it's unbelievable, better than D.C or Boston).

4) Their "Mencken Day", in celebration of their journalist curmudgeon who's fallen out of fame in the rest of the country...  A local library has a whole room dedicated to him that they open up once a year, which came through the initiative of a local woman named "Betty", I think, who they had a picture of: big 50s hair, horned rimmed glasses, looked like she loved life (she may have been in a bathing suit on a beach lounge chair holding a martini glass in the picture, or I may be adding that detail in in retrospect).

5) Weird shit just seems to happen there...  At one reception for people who study cults, there was this (middle-aged) (black) lady and her out-of-it skinny teenage son with a big unkempt Afro, and they didn't seem to be associated with the conference at all, but were tentatively taking food here and there from the hors d'oeuvres that had been set out...  When pressed, the woman said she was a real estate agent and they both said they belonged to a Baptist church and were from there (since they confused study of religion with the practice of it? and they knew someone on staff who told them about the reception and said they should come get free food?).

6) The big old market, which is this huge building full of dirty cheap food stalls where you can get $2 chili dogs right away...  "Dinner and a show," a (young) (black) (female) security guard at Camden Yards ballpark called it, when I was chit-chatting with her and I said I'd been there.

"A lot less junkies go there now than there used to," she then added.