Everyone back in Michigan is obsessed with tomatoes. When my dad and I went out for dinner last night, the waitress, who had heavy eyeshadow and a smokey voice, told my dad he got a salad with his hamburger steak dinner, and then added really seriously, "But it comes with tomatoes and we can't make any guarantees, just so you know."
Later, the woman at the next table started talking with us and said that she's been scared of vegetables ever since she bought grapes and a huge spider bigger than a half dollar sprung out from where it had been sitting on the stem. She says it happens more than you think, and now when she's in stores and buys grapes she breaks all the stems apart right there in the store to make sure nothing comes out, since it's not going to happen to her again.
On another note, the guy who owns the local moving company came over the house and had beer with my dad the other night. He says right now there's 60-70 homes he knows of in the county that are just empty, since people just took as many essentials as could fit in their car, and then stuck them in and shut up the house and just drove away and left it and went to a different part of the country to find work, most of them to Texas.
In the even more rural counties to the south of us, too, there's been two cases that they know of where the people figured out how to shut off the main power and the water and they took out all the copper wire and pipes before they left and sold it to the junkyard just so they could get enough gas money together to leave.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Addendum to last post.
My dad says he thinks McCain is a repeat of Bush, and we've had long enough with Bush's policies, so it's time for something different.
Obama memories / Obama opinions.
So, I forgot this story from when I was down in Indiana before their primary campaigning for Obama --
At the one field office, several local high school kids who were black came in to make signs that would be used for visibility on election day, and somehow they all started talking about the Reverend Wright thing, and this one girl was like, "My family used to go to his church, but we stopped since gas got so high, and now we stopped since he crazy."
Also, yesterday my dad and I were at this cute little cinderblock hamburger place near the train station where the waitress-cook uses a drywall spatula for the burgers, when my dad said he's been for Obama for months. He says he likes how level-headed he is and how he's not taken any political bait put out by McCain and Clinton, and how you can tell he's surrounded himself by good advisors.
My dad also was like, "And I'm glad didn't give her husband a bullet three or four months ago, because if she had, she might be the nominee right now," and when I gave him a confused look, he just shook his head and was like, "I wouldn't put it past them, I don't trust either of them worth a darn."
He then went on to say how Hillary's a bitch, and he's thought so ever since she went way beyond her role as presidential spouse to try to ramrod this healthcare plan through congress, and how he thought it was weird that as soon as they could, they left Arkansas to live in one of the richest zipcodes in the country (=Westchester County in NY), though she then went on to claim she represented the working class, and he added how he felt manipulated in the democratic primary in Michigan to show up and only have her name on the ballot, and to have her go and try and claim all the delegates from Michigan since she "won" it.
He then went on even more, and said that both he and my mom hated how Hillary used her being a woman to be emotional and plead special treatment during the campaign, and how that came off as really unprofessional -- he called it "that old woman-'Woe is Me' bit", just like my mom calls it -- and he also said that he's glad she's not the nominee, since that meant they would have to really look at her and Bill's finances and how his presidential library got funded, and who knows what that would turn up.
My dad also said he'd wear an Obama button if he had one, and that he hasn't worn a presidential candidate button since Kennedy.
At the one field office, several local high school kids who were black came in to make signs that would be used for visibility on election day, and somehow they all started talking about the Reverend Wright thing, and this one girl was like, "My family used to go to his church, but we stopped since gas got so high, and now we stopped since he crazy."
Also, yesterday my dad and I were at this cute little cinderblock hamburger place near the train station where the waitress-cook uses a drywall spatula for the burgers, when my dad said he's been for Obama for months. He says he likes how level-headed he is and how he's not taken any political bait put out by McCain and Clinton, and how you can tell he's surrounded himself by good advisors.
My dad also was like, "And I'm glad didn't give her husband a bullet three or four months ago, because if she had, she might be the nominee right now," and when I gave him a confused look, he just shook his head and was like, "I wouldn't put it past them, I don't trust either of them worth a darn."
He then went on to say how Hillary's a bitch, and he's thought so ever since she went way beyond her role as presidential spouse to try to ramrod this healthcare plan through congress, and how he thought it was weird that as soon as they could, they left Arkansas to live in one of the richest zipcodes in the country (=Westchester County in NY), though she then went on to claim she represented the working class, and he added how he felt manipulated in the democratic primary in Michigan to show up and only have her name on the ballot, and to have her go and try and claim all the delegates from Michigan since she "won" it.
He then went on even more, and said that both he and my mom hated how Hillary used her being a woman to be emotional and plead special treatment during the campaign, and how that came off as really unprofessional -- he called it "that old woman-'Woe is Me' bit", just like my mom calls it -- and he also said that he's glad she's not the nominee, since that meant they would have to really look at her and Bill's finances and how his presidential library got funded, and who knows what that would turn up.
My dad also said he'd wear an Obama button if he had one, and that he hasn't worn a presidential candidate button since Kennedy.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Twice / French.
My life has been bogged down in doing things twice lately, or getting things redone, like --
1) Having to call up for my extra-ing paycheck; the money for the second gig came in, but not the first.
2) Having to call up GAP to get my credit card cancelled and a new one sent out, since my bill arrived but not the card, only when my new card finally came in, along with it came the first, which I had already cancelled.
3) Having to go to the student clinic to get them to note my payment, since I had paid at the time and the charge went through, but it wasn't noted in their records.
4) Having to go to the hardware store a 2nd time, because they fucked up 2 keys I had made, to the point where they don't open the door.
That said, I met a French student for breakfast today and learned some practical French for use in West African markets, such as --
Je suis blanc, mais je ne suis pas stupid, ne riche!
(=I am white, but I am not stupid, or rich!)
Saddly, I forgot to ask him how to say, "Sorry, I cannot, there is no room in my suitcase!", which is supposedly a response that gets a good laugh out of Africans when they ask you to take them back to America with you.
1) Having to call up for my extra-ing paycheck; the money for the second gig came in, but not the first.
2) Having to call up GAP to get my credit card cancelled and a new one sent out, since my bill arrived but not the card, only when my new card finally came in, along with it came the first, which I had already cancelled.
3) Having to go to the student clinic to get them to note my payment, since I had paid at the time and the charge went through, but it wasn't noted in their records.
4) Having to go to the hardware store a 2nd time, because they fucked up 2 keys I had made, to the point where they don't open the door.
That said, I met a French student for breakfast today and learned some practical French for use in West African markets, such as --
Je suis blanc, mais je ne suis pas stupid, ne riche!
(=I am white, but I am not stupid, or rich!)
Saddly, I forgot to ask him how to say, "Sorry, I cannot, there is no room in my suitcase!", which is supposedly a response that gets a good laugh out of Africans when they ask you to take them back to America with you.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Second thoughts...
Some friends who are very practical are getting married, and sent out a .pdf invitation to their wedding today. There was a link to a webpage that they had got set up, which was actually pretty cool since it had all their info condensed to one place, and looked very nice since the husband-to-be is a computer guy and did the nice graphics work himself, I'm assuming, but on their "contact us" page, they had a comments feature, and in my shock I said the webpage was a little much, almost like they were rubbing capitalism in my face. I'm thinking now I shouldn't have said that, but it's too late now to retract, since I already hit the "post comments" button. Fuck.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Making friends (III of III): Subway car.
So, I was on the subway car going home yesterday, and I was on the seat facing forward where right in front of you there's two seats directly against the wall, so those people stare out into the center of the car, while you sit there looking at them.
Anyhow, right in front of me was this late 40s kind of plump woman -- the kind of fat that fills out her wrinkles for the moment and makes her look a little younger, though she isn't -- in a black top and white capri pants, and tasteful pearl earrings, and she was talking with her friend about some wedding in Australia, and some cup that was a gift for the couple and how she saw it online and how cute it was, and how she should see it, and stuff like that, so I pulled out my book I had bought at the bookfair and started reading it:
After about thirty seconds, the woman kind of looked to see what I was reading even though I had kept the cover down -- she was a nosy type, I felt, so I kept the cover down since I knew it would make her want to look even more -- and as soon as she saw it, she stopped mid-sentence talking to her friend, and this shocked and appalled look crept across her face. I kept reading, and like three or four times in the next ten minutes I saw her sneak a suspicious glance at me, like, "What kind of person would be reading this book?"
Also, though you can't see it here, the actual book has a little red swastika in the lower right corner, too.
Anyhow, right in front of me was this late 40s kind of plump woman -- the kind of fat that fills out her wrinkles for the moment and makes her look a little younger, though she isn't -- in a black top and white capri pants, and tasteful pearl earrings, and she was talking with her friend about some wedding in Australia, and some cup that was a gift for the couple and how she saw it online and how cute it was, and how she should see it, and stuff like that, so I pulled out my book I had bought at the bookfair and started reading it:
After about thirty seconds, the woman kind of looked to see what I was reading even though I had kept the cover down -- she was a nosy type, I felt, so I kept the cover down since I knew it would make her want to look even more -- and as soon as she saw it, she stopped mid-sentence talking to her friend, and this shocked and appalled look crept across her face. I kept reading, and like three or four times in the next ten minutes I saw her sneak a suspicious glance at me, like, "What kind of person would be reading this book?"
Also, though you can't see it here, the actual book has a little red swastika in the lower right corner, too.
Making friends (II of III): Grapefruit.
Yesterday I was standing outside a coffee shop where I had been all day, and I was waiting for a friend to come by so we could head over to sit outside and have a beer, and I was peeling a grapefruit and eating it as a snack when this kind of confused-looking but well-dressed older black lady was coming towards me, looking around and kind of weaving on the sidewalk.
Anyhow, as she passed, she shot out her hand towards my grapefruit and made a "psshoo" sound with her mouth, only she stopped short of actually getting the grapefruit, and it was at that point that I realized she wasn't confused, she was actually mentally-ill, though still with it enough to dress normally.
Anyhow, as she passed, she shot out her hand towards my grapefruit and made a "psshoo" sound with her mouth, only she stopped short of actually getting the grapefruit, and it was at that point that I realized she wasn't confused, she was actually mentally-ill, though still with it enough to dress normally.
Making friends (I of III): Bookfair.
So, I went to this outdoors bookfair on Saturday, and not only did in rain, which pushed booksellers towards lower prices, but it also was towards closing time, which pushed booksellers towards lower prices. Only, at the last booth, I was joking it up with one of the young booksellers -- I was asking if they had any 70s diet books that advised women to throw up, and when he laughed, I was like, "Hey, but that shit totally happened," and he found that even funnier -- and they had reduced prices to $3 each or 2 for $5, when I came across this one large-format book with a lot of pictures from the late 70s on how to be a mime, which would have been cool for like 10 cents at a Salvation Army store, but totally wasn't worth $3. So, I asked the one young bookseller if I could have it for a dollar, and he was like, "I have to price check with my boss," and when he turned to ask his boss, who was also around our age and was busy breaking a table down, the guy turned to me and stood there and just made this sour face, so I was like, "Okay," and set the book down and left.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Saw "Chronicles of Narnia".
Continuing my pop culture movie streak, I saw the latest "Chronicles of Narnia" movie yesterday. When I was leaving the theater with a friend, we ran into a Spanish grad student and his young son that my friend knew from class...
Anyhow, I asked the Spanish guy what he thought of how all the villains were kind of made out to be Spanish -- they had conquistador-type helmets, and these really bad Spanish accents -- and he was like, "No, they were not Spanish, that was not a Spanish accent, perhaps they were Russian."
Spanish people are nuts.
Anyhow, I asked the Spanish guy what he thought of how all the villains were kind of made out to be Spanish -- they had conquistador-type helmets, and these really bad Spanish accents -- and he was like, "No, they were not Spanish, that was not a Spanish accent, perhaps they were Russian."
Spanish people are nuts.
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