Monkey See Monkey Do.

I find it very interesting to see what undergraduates who try to look cool do; it gives you a good sense of what's being prized in the culture at the moment.

A few years ago, I saw a number of undergrads try to start up knowing sex advice columns in the undergraduate newspaper, in the manner of Savage Love.

In the past year-and-a-half, though, some have started up food review columns, detailing their trips to food trucks and local restaurants and whatnot, esp. ambience, food quality, novelty of presentation and ingredients, etc.

Overall, I find that *disgusting*.  At a time when our society has so many problems, they're modelling themselves on bourgeois culinary aestheticism?  You hope that their being exposed to different types of people and the life of the mind would lead them to better options than that.  At least Savage Love has a kind of noble libertarianism of tolerance towards sexual minorities, coupled with worthwhile discussions of consent.

Instead, these kids are unthinkingly buying into a navel-gazing self-satisfaction over food, of all things, and identifying with the segments of society that can afford to regularly dine out and try out new restaurants.

Scarf problem.

My one scarf I like - black with stripes of light and dark gray and light and dark purple - smells like beer, and I get a whiff of it every time I put it on, which is very disconcerting.

I have *no* idea how this happened, since I never drink beer while wearing my scarf and there's no way I could have spilled some beer on it; I always have my coat hung up, or thrown over my barstool or on the back of my chair.

Sometimes, though, my scarf slips out of the sleeve I tuck it in (people walking by have actually picked it up off the floor and handed it back to me), and I wonder now if it had fallen into some beer that had spilled on the floor, and it had picked up the smell that way.

2 discoveries in my apt.

1) My 1950s low-seated couch had disintegrating foam that my mother has been hounding me for years to get rid of.  I did so, and crumpled-up newspaper does the trick of a replacement nicely (though I have to crumple up some new paper every once in a while, when the old paper gets smashed down).

2) This broad, high-rimmed teflon pan makes a *great* rice cooker.  The heat spreads evenly and the rice never sticks to the pan.  I've been making sure to use a wooden spoon so the teflon never gets scratched off.

Poetry slam fun!

The other week I did like 4 bars of barhopping in an area northeast of my apartmen, and was walking home when I passed by this lounge that was chockful of (black) people facing a stage, so I popped in to find it was a poetry slam w/a $7 cover and I paid up, which was one of the best choices of my life.

The (younger) (black) woman who was up had a poem about her clitoris and motherhood and how she likes  to have sex with this one (black) man who is bad for her, and her delivery was impeccable.

One line:

my vagina/
my vagina/
gives birth to majors/
even when they're minor.

Another line:

call animal cruelty/
for what he did/
to that that kitten.

Her poems were just cascading well-delivered series of remarks like that, and at least a few times a minute (black) people would burst out w/knowing laughs and claps.

If she had had a CD, I totally would have bought a few for presents.  As it was, I asked, and she didn't, but she was performing at an underground party that Saturday and gave me a flier.

The interim music was a funk trio dressed all in black, a (young) (black) (dreadlocked) guy on keyboard, a (young) (thick) (shaved head) (black) guy on tuba, and a (young) (black) guy on drums.

One of the last people to go was this (beatnik-looking) (young) goateed (black) guy in thick black-rim glasses and a black turtleneck sweater, and he gave this commanding performance of a poem that would leap into hums and songs while the keyboard - tuba - drum trio accompanied him.

I was simply ecstatic b/c of all the commanding and unexpected performances and I texted a few friends, esp. my one friend from high school who runs an integrated homeless - domestic violence shelter, since I thought she'd like the lines from the woman's poem, which I shared with her by text.

She replied in the morning -

I love your life.  I was having a sleepless night with a teething infant while you were doing that.

I found that to be needed affirmation of how much joy I can squeeze out of life even while I'm in an overall shitty situation, and it made me wish she could visit soon so we could do stuff like that (perhaps by her coming along with her baby and husband and leaving them back at my apt. while me and her go out for the evening).

My new vegetable love:

Cauliflower.

I've been experimenting w/curries, and I love how I can have a bunch of chopped up cauliflower and add it to the pot after everything is cooked and turn the heat off, and the warmed up curry will cook it through a bit but it'll still have a little crunch at the end.

It's interesting how my eating habits have shifted over the years, even in the same city I live in.

I no longer make yogurt in my yogurt maker, or omelettes w/fried broccoli, or garbanzo beans in different sauces, and I've really reduced the amount that I make chilled potato salads in the summer.

Instead, I've really gotten into black beans-on-rice, and omelettes with boiled down tomatoes and chopped up onions and chili powder, and I've begun making curries.

I wonder what I'll move in to next.  The other day I was thinking that even once (if?) I get money, I won't adjust my grocery bill too much, I love making simple recipes that rarely have meat.

Repetitiveness.

Lately, I've been struck by the repetitiveness of my life.

Every time I brush my teeth, I think, "Again?".

I also notice how it's almost like one day a weekend always that I sleep in till after 12pm, since I had been out barhopping the night before.

Am impressed by people on the Couchsurfing site.

The other week I was thinking of a long weekend trip to a city north of me, so I signed up for the Couchsurfing site.

I am *very* surprised at how cool the people are on there.  I floated a request, and one guy (a doctor in residency) had a cousin in town and couldn't host, but the other couple (a musician and a doctor) were super cool and said I could sleep on the floor of their office if I needed to.

There's some scruffy artists and travelers who look like they'd get drunk and throw up all over your shit, but mostly it seems like cool, open-minded, level-headed people.

I didn't end up going, but the one couple said to email them any time!

Also, I put down on my profile about how I give private lessons in dead languages, and I think the quirkiness is a selling point, since people are looking to have interesting guests who are considerate and mature.

On my profile, I even said that if I ever moved on to hosting, I'd be happy to read dead languages with any guests, if anyone had attained an intermediate proficiency in them, or to discuss cult memoirs, if I had read the same ones as anyone.

(On the site, they want to know if you have anything you can teach people who you meet.)