Monday, April 26, 2004
A Note from the Soap Box
Just overheard at work: "Everybody gets a break. If you're poor, you get all these breaks. If you're middle class, screw you."
What about the "breaks" that I, as a middle class child, grew up with:
We didn't get food stamps, but we had all the food we could eat. We didn't go away to the country via the Fresh Air Fund, but we went on vacations as a family. We didn't have a landlord because we lived in a house that my family owns. We didn't go to any health clinics & stand in line for hours or go without important medical treatment because we had health insurance. I didn't HAVE to work after school, so I was on the Swim team. When I wanted to be in the Band, my mom rented a musical instrument. When I bought my first car, my parents helped me. I also got a decent education (though not top notch by any means). I also lived in a fairly decent, fairly safe neighborhood (though not the greatest or safest neighborhood) to grow up in. I also went to college -- not for free because my parents could afford to help me! Some other random things we had: Christmas presents; Birthday presents; Dinner out every once in awhile; Parents that worked at stable jobs where they made a decent living; A car; A washer & dryer. Fairly decent (though also fairly cheap) clothes. And, we're white, so we didn't have to deal with any racial discrimination!
We didn't have everything. We weren't rich, but I certainly wouldn't say I had a "screw you" kind of childhood. Things are much worse for many people. And, because I didn't grow up in an affluent or upper-middle class home/neighborhood, I knew people who didn't have everything I had. So, I know that I had some stuff -- some opportunities & some comfort & some things. And, I'm glad I had these things. I think everyone should have these things, more or less, though I know that some people have more & some people have less.
Some people, i.e. people who sit near me at work & talk loudly on the phone during the day, have this attitude of scarcity. If a person from a less-privileged background gets a job because a big law firm has decided to recruit summer help from, say, a public high school in NYC instead of just accepting applications from whomever or instead of just hiring their friends' sons & daughters or nephews & nieces, then the person who called to get his friend's son top bid for a summer job at a big law firm sits there & complains that the middle class get screwed.
But, isn't it a "screw you" situation, too, for someone to only be able to get those jobs through connections? I guess in that case, they're just screwing the wrong person?
One second later, this guy is talking about how our generation (meaning my generation or younger, not his; he's in his 50s) thinks the world owes us something, that we get out of college & we immediately think, "What are you going to do for me?"
But, wasn't he just then feeling like this law firm owes him something by "owing" his friend's son a summer job (or at least an interview) instead of -- as he perceives it & I doubt it's the case -- "giving" the job to some kid from the "inner city"?
The playing field will never be level. You will always have competition, if not from the applicant interviewing next, who studied harder than you, then from the applicant after you whose parents could afford a fancy private school that feeds into the Ivy leagues, or, less often, from the kid who would never have the chance to apply for this job if the company didn't go to his high school to recruit people. Why do you only lash out at the third type of applicant listed above, Mr. Screwed Middle Class? Is it, perhaps, because that is the only person listed above that you have power over?
The playing field will never be level. People will like or want you more (or less) because you're white or Jewish or Asian or male or tall or their friend's son or from the same hometown or WHATEVER. Get on with your life. But, DON'T try to make it even harder for people who have fewer advamtages than you to make it. It's very unlikely that your friend's son won't get a job. He just isn't automatically going to be given the job because he knows someone -- and he's not used to this, just like most middle class people (including me, to some extent, I admit). What people in the middle class don't understand (myself included sometimes) is that people aspire to be middle class. That doesn't mean it's easy & there's no more hard work & everything's given to you.
God, I hate people!
-m
|
Just overheard at work: "Everybody gets a break. If you're poor, you get all these breaks. If you're middle class, screw you."
What about the "breaks" that I, as a middle class child, grew up with:
We didn't get food stamps, but we had all the food we could eat. We didn't go away to the country via the Fresh Air Fund, but we went on vacations as a family. We didn't have a landlord because we lived in a house that my family owns. We didn't go to any health clinics & stand in line for hours or go without important medical treatment because we had health insurance. I didn't HAVE to work after school, so I was on the Swim team. When I wanted to be in the Band, my mom rented a musical instrument. When I bought my first car, my parents helped me. I also got a decent education (though not top notch by any means). I also lived in a fairly decent, fairly safe neighborhood (though not the greatest or safest neighborhood) to grow up in. I also went to college -- not for free because my parents could afford to help me! Some other random things we had: Christmas presents; Birthday presents; Dinner out every once in awhile; Parents that worked at stable jobs where they made a decent living; A car; A washer & dryer. Fairly decent (though also fairly cheap) clothes. And, we're white, so we didn't have to deal with any racial discrimination!
We didn't have everything. We weren't rich, but I certainly wouldn't say I had a "screw you" kind of childhood. Things are much worse for many people. And, because I didn't grow up in an affluent or upper-middle class home/neighborhood, I knew people who didn't have everything I had. So, I know that I had some stuff -- some opportunities & some comfort & some things. And, I'm glad I had these things. I think everyone should have these things, more or less, though I know that some people have more & some people have less.
Some people, i.e. people who sit near me at work & talk loudly on the phone during the day, have this attitude of scarcity. If a person from a less-privileged background gets a job because a big law firm has decided to recruit summer help from, say, a public high school in NYC instead of just accepting applications from whomever or instead of just hiring their friends' sons & daughters or nephews & nieces, then the person who called to get his friend's son top bid for a summer job at a big law firm sits there & complains that the middle class get screwed.
But, isn't it a "screw you" situation, too, for someone to only be able to get those jobs through connections? I guess in that case, they're just screwing the wrong person?
One second later, this guy is talking about how our generation (meaning my generation or younger, not his; he's in his 50s) thinks the world owes us something, that we get out of college & we immediately think, "What are you going to do for me?"
But, wasn't he just then feeling like this law firm owes him something by "owing" his friend's son a summer job (or at least an interview) instead of -- as he perceives it & I doubt it's the case -- "giving" the job to some kid from the "inner city"?
The playing field will never be level. You will always have competition, if not from the applicant interviewing next, who studied harder than you, then from the applicant after you whose parents could afford a fancy private school that feeds into the Ivy leagues, or, less often, from the kid who would never have the chance to apply for this job if the company didn't go to his high school to recruit people. Why do you only lash out at the third type of applicant listed above, Mr. Screwed Middle Class? Is it, perhaps, because that is the only person listed above that you have power over?
The playing field will never be level. People will like or want you more (or less) because you're white or Jewish or Asian or male or tall or their friend's son or from the same hometown or WHATEVER. Get on with your life. But, DON'T try to make it even harder for people who have fewer advamtages than you to make it. It's very unlikely that your friend's son won't get a job. He just isn't automatically going to be given the job because he knows someone -- and he's not used to this, just like most middle class people (including me, to some extent, I admit). What people in the middle class don't understand (myself included sometimes) is that people aspire to be middle class. That doesn't mean it's easy & there's no more hard work & everything's given to you.
God, I hate people!
-m
Friday, April 23, 2004
Jack
I'm the first one to complain about how people get so caught up in media & celebrity culture that they don't pay attention to issues that really matter.
That said, I have to tell you something very important: I saw Jack Nicholson in Borders on Park & 57th yesterday afternoon.
woo-hoo! Jackie Jack!
-m
|
I'm the first one to complain about how people get so caught up in media & celebrity culture that they don't pay attention to issues that really matter.
That said, I have to tell you something very important: I saw Jack Nicholson in Borders on Park & 57th yesterday afternoon.
woo-hoo! Jackie Jack!
-m
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
J Lo Hot
I have it all figured out. On the outside, I have always been this girl who looks like her dad, speaks from one side of her mouth, draws comparisons to James Spader. But, on the inside, in my soul, in my heart, I really feel like I look like Debra Winger. I mean, on the inside, if my inside were to reflect my outside, I would be Debra. If I were self-actualized, I mean, I would look like Debra. I am Debra!
Now, back to the real world.
Last night, I caught just the shortest bit of this MTV show where this guy (transexual) had plastic surgery on his face to supposedly look more like Jennifer Lopez. He had facial reconstructive surgery to look like J Lo?!?!?
How can she sleep at night knowing someone had SURGERY to look like her & he did it on TELEVISION? Isn't his obsession only going to grow? How can she feel safe that this dude isn't going to come knocking on her door inviting her to lunch?
Anyway, he didn't really look like her in the end. So, NAH!
-m
|
I have it all figured out. On the outside, I have always been this girl who looks like her dad, speaks from one side of her mouth, draws comparisons to James Spader. But, on the inside, in my soul, in my heart, I really feel like I look like Debra Winger. I mean, on the inside, if my inside were to reflect my outside, I would be Debra. If I were self-actualized, I mean, I would look like Debra. I am Debra!
Now, back to the real world.
Last night, I caught just the shortest bit of this MTV show where this guy (transexual) had plastic surgery on his face to supposedly look more like Jennifer Lopez. He had facial reconstructive surgery to look like J Lo?!?!?
How can she sleep at night knowing someone had SURGERY to look like her & he did it on TELEVISION? Isn't his obsession only going to grow? How can she feel safe that this dude isn't going to come knocking on her door inviting her to lunch?
Anyway, he didn't really look like her in the end. So, NAH!
-m
Friday, April 16, 2004
Warning
I am listening to the Love Songs station (yeah, I know) on Launch radio right now at work. "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera is playing. This song, as you may recall, comes from "Karate Kid II," the film in which Daniel-son travels to Okinawa & learns to fight like one of those handheld drums. Daniel-son also learns that the crane move he learned in Karate Kid I is not, in fact, undefeatable if done right despite what he was told. And, he meets a nice Okinawan girl because things obviously didn't work out with Ali with an "i."
-m
|
I am listening to the Love Songs station (yeah, I know) on Launch radio right now at work. "Glory of Love" by Peter Cetera is playing. This song, as you may recall, comes from "Karate Kid II," the film in which Daniel-son travels to Okinawa & learns to fight like one of those handheld drums. Daniel-son also learns that the crane move he learned in Karate Kid I is not, in fact, undefeatable if done right despite what he was told. And, he meets a nice Okinawan girl because things obviously didn't work out with Ali with an "i."
-m
Thursday, April 08, 2004
In My Solitude
Sometimes, I crave the solitude I experienced when I first moved to the city. In about the first year I lived here, I went to the New Yorker Festival poetry reading by myself in Bryant Park. I saw "The Misanthrope" in Central Park & the entire 1999-2000 Public Theatre season by myself. I went to the Met & attempted to draw one of the statues. I sat in the library reading room on 5th Ave & read under one of the green lamps. I saw "American Beauty," "Being John Malkovich," and many French films by myself. I ate at restaurants with only a book as my company. I was almost recruited for a cult (long story). I sat in the park & read "Anna K." I went to the New Museum in SoHo & saw these strange, free videos. I went to the Guggenheim SoHo & saw Andy Warhol's "Last Supper." I ushered "Cabaret." All this -- but mostly, I wasted time simply walking along the streets or sitting somewhere & reading or writing in my journal.
I was so lonely the summer I moved here that I cried almost every night, thinking about my friends at home, my quiet block, my porch, the theatre where I'd worked, the students I'd taught. After a few months, I cried less frequently -- once every couple of weeks, on the phone with my friends. I thought less & less about my porch, the brick street where I had lived, the fresh air in Florida. I went out & did things.
My first birthday here, when I turned 26 (!!!), I went to my sister's about 2 hours away because I didn't want to spend it alone. I helped her move into a new apartment & then we went to a park & played catch & ate grilled swordfish & ice cream cake.
Then, by the next year, I was so fortunate. I had made some close friends, some wonderful friends, and we ate at Yaffa Cafe. I went to Shakespeare in the Park with Stephen & his friends (though it was rained out). I saw "The Graduate" in Bryant Park with a group of people. I considered it a sign that I'd made the city my home.
Now, I feel like I want to do some of the things I used to do. I want to see French films by myself. I want to spend a Saturday alone. But, somehow, it's harder.
My schedule is fuller. I have a boyfriend. I am pulled from here to there, invited to go places I want to go with people I want to spend time with.
I love my life. I love working on theatre projects. I loved going to Dan & Dena's baby shower last Sunday. I loved ushering for "Assasins" with Erin. I love playing softball on Saturdays. I love Joe.
But, I feel like I've lost a part of myself and that centered feeling that comes from spending a lot of time gloriously alone, even if the price is sometimes loneliness & crying on the phone. I miss my solitude.
-m
|
Sometimes, I crave the solitude I experienced when I first moved to the city. In about the first year I lived here, I went to the New Yorker Festival poetry reading by myself in Bryant Park. I saw "The Misanthrope" in Central Park & the entire 1999-2000 Public Theatre season by myself. I went to the Met & attempted to draw one of the statues. I sat in the library reading room on 5th Ave & read under one of the green lamps. I saw "American Beauty," "Being John Malkovich," and many French films by myself. I ate at restaurants with only a book as my company. I was almost recruited for a cult (long story). I sat in the park & read "Anna K." I went to the New Museum in SoHo & saw these strange, free videos. I went to the Guggenheim SoHo & saw Andy Warhol's "Last Supper." I ushered "Cabaret." All this -- but mostly, I wasted time simply walking along the streets or sitting somewhere & reading or writing in my journal.
I was so lonely the summer I moved here that I cried almost every night, thinking about my friends at home, my quiet block, my porch, the theatre where I'd worked, the students I'd taught. After a few months, I cried less frequently -- once every couple of weeks, on the phone with my friends. I thought less & less about my porch, the brick street where I had lived, the fresh air in Florida. I went out & did things.
My first birthday here, when I turned 26 (!!!), I went to my sister's about 2 hours away because I didn't want to spend it alone. I helped her move into a new apartment & then we went to a park & played catch & ate grilled swordfish & ice cream cake.
Then, by the next year, I was so fortunate. I had made some close friends, some wonderful friends, and we ate at Yaffa Cafe. I went to Shakespeare in the Park with Stephen & his friends (though it was rained out). I saw "The Graduate" in Bryant Park with a group of people. I considered it a sign that I'd made the city my home.
Now, I feel like I want to do some of the things I used to do. I want to see French films by myself. I want to spend a Saturday alone. But, somehow, it's harder.
My schedule is fuller. I have a boyfriend. I am pulled from here to there, invited to go places I want to go with people I want to spend time with.
I love my life. I love working on theatre projects. I loved going to Dan & Dena's baby shower last Sunday. I loved ushering for "Assasins" with Erin. I love playing softball on Saturdays. I love Joe.
But, I feel like I've lost a part of myself and that centered feeling that comes from spending a lot of time gloriously alone, even if the price is sometimes loneliness & crying on the phone. I miss my solitude.
-m
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Kate's Joint
Last night, Joe & I went to Kate's for dinner. I had a McKate: 2 non-meat patties, special sauce (not mayo & ketchup), lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions (grilled), on a whole wheat bun. I also had collard greens & some mashed potatoes with vegetarian gravy.
Not long after I moved to New York, my friend Stephen introduced me to the joy that is Kate's Joint on 4th St and Avenue B in the East Village. Kate's is a diner for vegetarians. They don't serve health food but comfort food. Their menu varies from huevos rancheros with home fries & a screwdriver for Sunday brunch to Shepard's pie to fried tofu with "Buffalo wing" sauce to vegetarian Jamacian meat patties to burritos to pasta. Everything is homemade. Everything is vegetarian, & most things can be made without dairy (not that I personally get anything without dairy). They also have a full bar & sometimes a d.j. in case you're looking for that sort of thing.
Kate's is like Heaven.
Joe, who lives exactly one block from Kate's, has been dragged there several times in the past year & a half. He doesn't hate eating at Kate's, but he doesn't love it there. He prefers their breakfast/brunch menu to their dinner & he usually orders the least adventurous item on the menu, whole wheat pizza.
I have stolen so many cooking ideas from Kate's. I rarely make vegetarian gravy at home because it's a pain in the butt, but the first time I made it, it was because I wanted to go to Kate's but couldn't afford it & didn't want to travel (about a 45 minute commute door to door). I modified my grandma's Shepard's pie, making it with either fake beef or grilled veggies at the bottom, after having Kate's Shepard's pie. I dream about their fake beef au poive.
Last night, I had Kate's french fries for the very first time. They are so thin, so crispy, so salty, so perfect.
Aaaaah, Kate, Kate, Kate. What you do to me!
--m
|
Last night, Joe & I went to Kate's for dinner. I had a McKate: 2 non-meat patties, special sauce (not mayo & ketchup), lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions (grilled), on a whole wheat bun. I also had collard greens & some mashed potatoes with vegetarian gravy.
Not long after I moved to New York, my friend Stephen introduced me to the joy that is Kate's Joint on 4th St and Avenue B in the East Village. Kate's is a diner for vegetarians. They don't serve health food but comfort food. Their menu varies from huevos rancheros with home fries & a screwdriver for Sunday brunch to Shepard's pie to fried tofu with "Buffalo wing" sauce to vegetarian Jamacian meat patties to burritos to pasta. Everything is homemade. Everything is vegetarian, & most things can be made without dairy (not that I personally get anything without dairy). They also have a full bar & sometimes a d.j. in case you're looking for that sort of thing.
Kate's is like Heaven.
Joe, who lives exactly one block from Kate's, has been dragged there several times in the past year & a half. He doesn't hate eating at Kate's, but he doesn't love it there. He prefers their breakfast/brunch menu to their dinner & he usually orders the least adventurous item on the menu, whole wheat pizza.
I have stolen so many cooking ideas from Kate's. I rarely make vegetarian gravy at home because it's a pain in the butt, but the first time I made it, it was because I wanted to go to Kate's but couldn't afford it & didn't want to travel (about a 45 minute commute door to door). I modified my grandma's Shepard's pie, making it with either fake beef or grilled veggies at the bottom, after having Kate's Shepard's pie. I dream about their fake beef au poive.
Last night, I had Kate's french fries for the very first time. They are so thin, so crispy, so salty, so perfect.
Aaaaah, Kate, Kate, Kate. What you do to me!
--m
Monday, April 05, 2004
Band Plugging
Go to www.ahabseamus.com & listen to the mp3s of their live cd, recorded at the living room in feb, I believe. I was there!
And, I love this band & want you to listen to them.
--m
|
Go to www.ahabseamus.com & listen to the mp3s of their live cd, recorded at the living room in feb, I believe. I was there!
And, I love this band & want you to listen to them.
--m
Thursday, April 01, 2004
April's Fool
Joe & I bought a Kickboxing exercise video the other night. We watched/tried to participate in about 7 minutes of it & then put it on pause. That was Tuesday. It is still on pause.
BUT, I am going to get fit, gosh darnit! I'm way too poor to join a gym, but I am going to learn to kickbox & Denise Austin's going to be my guru.
Today, Jeffrey would have been 26. It is/(was?) his birthday. A friend of mine at work gave me yellow flowers. I'm so touched. I cannot explain how touched I am.
Last night, I went to Target on Queens Blvd to go "baby-crazy" for Dan & Dena's baby, tentatively named Benjamin Joseph, scheduled to be born on June 6th (yes, that's D-Day). I bought a 3-pack of little outfits* for 0-3 months, another little outfit for 9 months, a green cow rattle, and some socks. I didn't realize baby clothes were so cheap. I could have kept going.
The baby shower is this Sunday in New Jersey. I hate it when people kvetch about commuting to Queens to see me, but I also HATE going to New Jersey. Maybe this is a little bit hypocritical, but at least Queens is one of the 5 boroughs & at least I am near a subway. And, at least I know where the fuck I am when I'm in Queens. And, I am not that far out in Queens, so NAAAAAH.
Tonight, I am going to go home after work & probably speak to my entire family on the phone. It won't be easy. I think I am going to write my brother a letter & mail it, sort of symbolically sending it out into the world, knowing it won't reach him but it won't reach anyone else either.
I'm at work, so I can't write about this. Too easy to cry today.
-m
*Little Outfit = those one-piece things that snap
|
Joe & I bought a Kickboxing exercise video the other night. We watched/tried to participate in about 7 minutes of it & then put it on pause. That was Tuesday. It is still on pause.
BUT, I am going to get fit, gosh darnit! I'm way too poor to join a gym, but I am going to learn to kickbox & Denise Austin's going to be my guru.
Today, Jeffrey would have been 26. It is/(was?) his birthday. A friend of mine at work gave me yellow flowers. I'm so touched. I cannot explain how touched I am.
Last night, I went to Target on Queens Blvd to go "baby-crazy" for Dan & Dena's baby, tentatively named Benjamin Joseph, scheduled to be born on June 6th (yes, that's D-Day). I bought a 3-pack of little outfits* for 0-3 months, another little outfit for 9 months, a green cow rattle, and some socks. I didn't realize baby clothes were so cheap. I could have kept going.
The baby shower is this Sunday in New Jersey. I hate it when people kvetch about commuting to Queens to see me, but I also HATE going to New Jersey. Maybe this is a little bit hypocritical, but at least Queens is one of the 5 boroughs & at least I am near a subway. And, at least I know where the fuck I am when I'm in Queens. And, I am not that far out in Queens, so NAAAAAH.
Tonight, I am going to go home after work & probably speak to my entire family on the phone. It won't be easy. I think I am going to write my brother a letter & mail it, sort of symbolically sending it out into the world, knowing it won't reach him but it won't reach anyone else either.
I'm at work, so I can't write about this. Too easy to cry today.
-m
*Little Outfit = those one-piece things that snap
