I know I’ve done a good deal of complaining here. Some of it has been directed towards my family. I’m going home at the end of the week for maybe two weeks or so. During that time, I’m sure I’ll complain some more about them.
Even still, I do genuinely like them. You could even say, I love them. You could.
And I can’t think of any better way to prove that then by telling you this. I have sacrificed my Amazon account on their behalf, or at least my mom’s. It’s Channukah, so I feel I should probably bring them some gifts. I don’t know what to get them, so I usually revert to CDs or DVDs, things like that. Things they’ll like, use once or twice and then forget about. I was looking for something to get my mom and found what I think is a perfect CD for her. The only problem is it’s cheapest on Amazon, meaning I have to order it and have it sent to my house.
So out of my love for my family, Amazon will now list forever that I purcahsed the soundtrack to Glee.
Hopefully that balances out lying to an Orthodox kid, and I break even for today.
Holidays and Religion and Shit
I escaped from the dark, now smelly space that was my room to go get some food a little while ago. While walking on the sidewalk an Orthodox Jewish boy, no more than 15 years old, stopped me.
“Ex-excuse me. Are, uh, are you Jewish?”
I was a bit taken back. He was pretty forward, even if it seemed like he had trouble talking to strangers, which I determined because of his slight stutter and extremely shaky voice. Secret time: I’m much more inclined to stop and talk to someone if I can tell he’s terrified to speak to other people. Wonder why?
Anyway, my first thought was to say no. Not that I dislike being Jewish. It’s fine. But I just didn’t want to have to stand on a sidewalk and talk to anybody. But then I decided to tell the truth, for it is Channukah.
“Do you have a menorah?”
Okay, honesty was fun for one question, but not anymore. I lied and said yes. I don’y have one. I tried to buy one over the weekend, but nowhere I went had them. But I didn’t want to buy one now, so I lied and said I did.
“Oh, did you, uh, well did you light it tonight?”
Fuck it, I did. It was dark out already, so I guess I was supposed to have lit it by then.
“Um, do you have candles?”
Now here’s where I think his nerves took over. Shouldn’t he switch those last two questions? I don’t know why he asked if I lit the candles yet. Maybe he was selling matches as well. I don’t know. But i felt like he should’ve asked about the candles first.
Then he got really quiet, but the kind of quiet where you know there’s more coming, but he can’t think of what to say. I know that quiet well. So I waited.
“Um, okay then, thanks.”
I wished him a happy holiday, and he tried to respond, but couldn’t. Then I walked away, got some soup and went home. I walked through the door a few minutes past 8. The door was unlocked, which I always tell my roommates should not happen. So I groan, walk through the door and see 10 pairs of eyes looking at me.
My roomate’s Bible study group was meeting. Should’ve bought that menorah.
Whoops
Well it seems my plan to try actually doing stuff early wasn’t going as well as planned. Yes, I studied about four hours Saturday for my final exam on Wednesday. Yes, I wrote my 8-10 page paper due Wednesday. Yes, I’ve started thinking about how to put together my 30-page paper due Thursday night.
What I forgot was I have a book review due today by 5. I’ve read about 13 pages so far. It’s a little more than 300. Now, I have two other book reviews due this semester in this class, and didn’t really read either book. I got a B+ and A- on those. What will come of this review? I guess I’ll find out soon enough. But yeah, I just can’t seem to get this do shit early thing down. I gave it a good shot this time, though.
So I’ve gotten a bit sidetracked here. I’ve got just a hair less than seven pages right now. I ended up leaving the building on campus because the seat I got wasn’t near an outlet, so once my battery was about to run out I opted to just leave instead of search for a plug. The only seats available in the two buildings I went in were the ones without plug access, so I left. I came home, ate and watched some shows I didn’t get to watch last week. Then I started back up, and now I’ve stopped again.
Anyway, I’ve watched this video a few times today. The song isn’t good. It’s not even decent. But it’s not so bad I want to keep listening for entertainment purposes. It’s a rather bizarre song, I think. But what’s even more bizarre is the video. I’m kind of confused by a few things here:
1) Is this really what drug dealers look like?
2) Can someone who looks and sings like that guy get someone who looks like her? Even if he is a drug dealer?
3) Do drug dealers wear purple sweaters a lot?
4) Did they have to pay all those people to go to one of this dude’s concerts? Does this guy even need to call his concerts secret?
5) What’s with the lightning through the brain symbol? Is that what drugs feel like?
6) Do girls that look like that dress in really skimpy outfits, put on a spotlight in an empty basketball arena and stretch in slow motion really provocatively?
7) What kind of music does this count as? (Genre, I mean. Because I think we can all agree it’s shitty)
8) If someone that looked like her came up to me and gave me drugs, is there any way I turn them down? (My guess- I take them, not knowing what’s going on because I’m stunned to the point where I’m nothing more than a wax figure).
9) Is she even giving out drugs? Or is she giving out buttons to his concert? Do I even care?
10) What school are they at? The campus looks nice. I think Duke, right?
11) If Justin Timberlake made this exact song do I think the exact opposite of it? (Good chance).
12) Am I really just watching this and over-analyzing it because I’ve been writing a good deal today, want a break and this has a very attractive lady in it? (Yeah, without a doubt, actually).
So, what do you think?
I’m in a building on campus trying to finish this paper. I felt like I needed a change of scenery. I think it’s done alright. I’ve gotten a good deal done in an hour or so. I have about five pages written. It has to be 8-10, and I should get there easily. My paper is about “Arrested Development.” So these two pictures are the torturous research I was just doing. It was pretty great. There’s a girl at the table next to me listening to music really loudly even though she has headphones in. Sounds like somebody likes Staind. Really, somebody apparently likes Staind. Weird. Oh well, check it out, Kenneth and Gob! And an awesome note in a goody bag. Okay, back to writing. But holy fuck do I love this show. After I finish I’m going to watch last week’s 30 Rock as well. I’m pretty amped up about it.
Update: Got a phone call, so closed the door that way
My mom called, so I closed the door to talk on the phone. The conversation was about three minutes. When I opened my door back up, his was closed already. Fuck’s up with that shit? Now I’m going to go knock on his door so I can shower. He jumped the gun closing his door. I will make him pay. Or just open his door again. Either or.
Doors Open Conversation
- W: Hey Adam
- Me: Yeah?
- W: Can you smell my candles?
- Me: No.
- W: Aww.
- Me: Um, no.
- W: They actually smell kind of nice today.
- I kind of forgot the little bullshit conversations I have with my roommate when both of our doors are open. We really haven't talked for like 2 weeks, and that's not a we're mad at each other thing. We've both just been bogged down with work and all. Actually, this morning when I got home after going out for a bit, his door was closed, but he heard me walk up the steps so he opened his door so we could chat, because we literally haven't seen one another in maybe like three days, impressive when you consider we share a bathroom that inside his bedroom.
- Anyway, I don't want to smell his candles. I'm not sure why you'd light candles if you didn't think they were going to smell nice either. But yeah, I'm trying to finish this 10-page paper today so I can spend the next four days writing a 30-page paper and don't want to smell anything other than my own stench from neglecting personal hygiene while doing all this work. He's sitting in his room playing a football computer game, which is fine. I've got no problems with that. What I do have a problem with is him telling me about his new strategy to pass to the tight end a lot, and then read me off his tight end's statistics for the season. I mean, good for the tight end and all, but I don't care. It's always awkward when I have my door open and he has his open and we talk, but I have to do work, so I want to close my door. I'm not sure how to do it without seeming rude. Sometimes I'll say "Alright, I should really get to this work" and close it. Other times I'll go to the bathroom even if just to wash my hands or something, then close it on my way back. Then other times I just close the door if neither of us has said anything for a while. I think my plan for right now is to go to the bathroom and close it.
Got to be quick here- the Internet’s been down or at best really shitty, for the past three days at the house. Quick updates: meet three wrestlers at a Denny’s for an interview and got one to admit he hates his wrestling name and persona and wishes he could change it, and the other two had no idea he felt that way; met a fourth wrestler at his house and stayed there for about three hours. This was also the first night of Channukah, so I spent it with a man who all I knew going in was he referred to himself as a sort of assassin. At one point he left to go two houses down to pick up some “OG Kush,” which he didn’t tell me, but if you’re going to go outside to talk on the phone, close the door. Anyway, he made rice and beans and codfish fritters and made me eat them. It was fine. He also has a large tattoo on his left forearm. It’s a dove with a knife going through its back and blood spurting out. It represents his daughter’s mother. Coming out of the dove’s mouth is a banner with his daughter’s name. It’s a sweet, as well as incredibly violent, tattoo. “You can probably tell I was doing a little drinking when I got it,” he said.
Tonight I went to a party, which is an unusual occurance for me. It was the paper’s holiday party, which was enjoyable. At one point I think I came really close to making a girl cry. Monday starts our finals week. This girl said, “I need your advice on something. I have three papers due Monday, as well as a test that day.”
First off, I had no idea what she wanted advice on. Write your papers and study. That’s all you can do. I said, “Uh, I don’t really know what advice I could give to help you with that.”
At this point, another girl walks up to us. Girl 1 says to Girl 2 “Adam just made me really scared.” She then recrites what I said and turns to me and says “Why would you say that?” Girl 2 looked at me, like, yeah, Girl 1 is fucked, don’t worry. At least that’s what I thought. Anyway, Girl 1 seemed actually angry and like she didn’t think that was a shit ton of things for one day until I mentioned it. Oh well.
That’s it for now. There’s even a chance this won’t even publish, in which case, just a waste of time for me, opposed to a waste of time for you the reader, like all my other posts. Until I can get a steady Internet connection again, toodles.
Update: More interviews
After going to one wrestler’s house on Friday, I’m meeting three more later that day at a Denny’s about a half hour outside Pittsburgh. Their names aren’t funny, so I won’t write them. Just know, I’m pretty amped up. Also, after doing this, I will have interviewed people for this paper at both a Denny’s and a Burger King. Top that New York Times’ most famous writer, whoever you are.
Now, I’m not one to study too much. It’s a flaw of mine, but I have so many it’s hard to rank them at this point. I do fine in school, go to every class and do all my homework. It’s just studying has never been something I did too frequently. I was never the type of person to cram all night for an exam. Shit, as I sit here writing this I’m neglecting to study for a test tomorrow that I really should study for. And I will, for a little bit. I could get into part of the reason I don’t think I study so much, which is more about my issues with the education system as a whole, but that’s far in depth and boring to talk about. Plus, the real reason is I’m lazy. So yeah, in my head I have a problem with what studying, but I mostly don’t do it because I’m lazy.
I’m this class about the history of American Jews. It’s an alright class, I suppose. We had our last quiz of the year Tuesday. A girl in that class and I have become friends of sorts. I don’t know if I’d call us friends, but she has, so I guess that’s done. She’s a sophomore and an exchange student from China. Her English is decent enough so she can go to school in America and talk to people, but her vocabulary isn’t too big.
Last week she asked me if I wanted to meet and study for the quiz. I agreed, thinking that might be nice. Truthfully, I probably wouldn’t have bothered to study at all, so this certailny couldn’t hurt. We met Monday night. We had to meet at 9 at night because that’s when she finishes with karate. Sometimes I feel like God is making this a bit too easy, no?
Anyway, I get to the building on campus we’re meeting in, and she’s sitting there with two other girls from out class. I’m excited because with four of us, we should be able to knock this studying out in like an hour. My guess is that the quiz would be like 20 questions. Nothing too serious.
We go over stuff for like an hour, then the other two girls say it’s late and they’re going to go home. So the other girl and I continue studying. Now, we’ve only talked a few times out of class, and never really had conversations about anything really substantial, which is why I’m a bit apprehensive to call us friends. Anyway, throughout the course of the night we’d veer off from studying and talk about how she ended up here, her experience while here and things like that. I find that a lot more interesting than the material on the quiz.
Anyway, we keep studying, and I’m getting really tired. I feel bad because it’s obvious I’m tried. I occassionally yawn, and hold back a lot more yawns so as to not seem rude. I figured I’m tried because studying is terribly boring. I don’t check the time, but think it’s about 12:30, which is late and long time to be studying for such a small quiz.
Then her phone starts buzzing. I think it’s a text message or something. She looks and it’s the alarm. “Oh my god,” she says. I look inquisitively. “It’s 2:30 in the morning.” I laugh.
“Come on now,” I say. “That’s ridiculous.” I check my phone. She’s right. I honestly thought it was like 12:30. I’m not sure where those two hours went, but that at least explains why I’m so tired. She keeps apologizing and I tell her it’s fine. So now I’m thinking we’ve studied a good deal, so we’re done. She still wants to study more, so we stay another half hour. So for this quiz, which ended up being 25 questions, we studied about six hours. Combined for all other classes this semester, I haven’t studied six hours. Now, as a writing major I’ve certainly spent much more than six hours writing, but definitely not studying.
I did fine on the quiz, and she thinks she did as well. So I guess I helped. It felt like more of a tutoring session opposed to a mutual study session, but that’s okay. I think part of where the time went is from me explaining what everything I said meant. There was a pretty big language barrier there, and I’m more impressed she can take classes in English and not fail them, because we were one-on-one so all my attention was on her and she still had trouble understanding me. Teachers in classes anywhere from 20 people and up aren’t going to giver her that kind of attention. My guess is that’s where a good chunk of the time went. A few minutes to explain what the word “claim” means and a few more to explain the concept of docking points adds up apparently.
Anyway, I’m not too sure why I stayed so long. Obviously, I didn’t know how long we were there, so that’s part of it. I don’t think I got much out of the study session either. I don’t think she and I are destined to become great friends or ever hang out. Perhaps I’m nicer than I think? Nope. that’s not it. The real reason is because I love broken English and accents. The combination creates my favorite language. Every time she wanted to say something but didn’t know how, covered her smiling mouth embarrassed and stopped talking, it made me so incredibly happy. That sounds creep, and it is. It’s really creppy. But fuck it, I love broken English.
In fact, we’re supposed to meet this weekend to study for the final.
