so i have been negligent with the blogging of late (blogging really sounds like a nassty body function, non? like i ate too many fish tacos slathered in chunky blue cheese dressing and it all was forcefully rejected from my body). i am also about 3 weeks behind on email, so if you've sent me an email in the last month, i swear that i am not a hater nor too cool for school and i will i promise eventually write you back. there are several reasons for this behindedness:
- new york, new york, i'm gonna be a part of it!
- i am unemployed!
- it is spring and it is sun!
first of all, i got into nyu. that means a fat-ass fellowship, getting paid to write my dissertation in paris, and getting about any job i want one day. most of all, that means you will soon see me and tyco at barcade spending that fellowship money on arkanoid and galaga. so soon it is time for me to pack up the 500thousand books i've bought here and the 50 pairs of shoes i brought with me and my cat and head back to the land of ranch dressing, burritos, and people who think i am anorexic just because most americans are larger than life. on that last note, it's been really nice this year to not have strangers and family and friends feel like they can comment constantly on my body size. i realized this when my parents were in town and succeeded in giving me a complex about being a very small pony. i mean look, i don't want to be skinny, and aside from standard cultural notions of beauty that state that being skinny is good, having no padding and no insulation is a pain in my (admitted lack of) ass. it's even more of a pain in the noassitol that folks think that because i get to cash in on those beauty standards that that gives 'em free reign to accuse me of eating disorders and general shit-giving about my size-- but god knows that folks don't walk up to more-fluffy -sized strangers and friends and tell them they are fat and therefore must be mentally off. only in america, folks.
but excuse that rant. aside from missing bread products and yummy espresso and not getting harassed about my weight, i am growing more and more psyched about the return of the pony. my parents, though are worried. this is the email that my mom sent when i told her i was looking for a place for me and my cat to live in brooklyn:
Dad is concerned Brooklyn is not a safe neighborhood so send some information to relieve your Daddy from concern for his firstborn! I want to encourage you for your love of Diva - I think the love of pets is important BUT know if Diva ever needs a stay away place because you need housing - she is always welcome to stay with us until you can graduate.
apparently my parents think that brooklyn is comprised of only one neighborhood and that they can steal my cat. miss diva bitchy-bitch has traveled all over the us and to france and she is psyched about going shopping for fabulous cat outfits in nyc.
the second tidbit of goodness is that i am unemployed. (concurrent with this goodness, i celebrated having no more income by going to greece. it was amazing, but i'll spare you the touristy photos for now while reserving the right to inflict them on you later.) no more going 6 days a week to the most horribly managed high school in paris. no more yelling matches with the principal when i get called to her office regularly (some shit just don't change. even as an adult, pony + public school = regular visits to the principal office) where i am required to stare at her rats' nest of a hair. i don't think it's going out on a limb to say that her inability to purchase and use hair maintenance devices reflects her (in)ability to run a high school. my last week of school they celebrated my departure by scheduling me to proctor practice bac exams, which resulted in me working 15 or so hours, and that's not counting the extra 5 hours that i refused to work. i am legally required by the french government to not work more than 12, but they seem to think that my position there is so appealing that i want to go there for free. what's more, one of the teachers handed out my home phone number to students so that they could ask me to put in more free hours, since i refused to do so after the teacher asked. when i saw her afterwards, she ignored my hints that i could use some tutoring jobs since i was about to be income-less, and asked me to correct 10 pages of her shitty english for her side job. and y'all, one sentence with 3 colons just doesn't fly in french or english. so that is the end of my stint as the exploited linguistic bitch of lycée émile dubois. i now have no money but plenty of play time, which is great since:
it is sunny sunny spring! birds are chirping, some my flowers are resisting my death-thumb, people everywhere are having more sex and experiencing increased vitamin d intake, and the windows of my apartment are open to let in the joy of it all. but open windows on the ground floor is not so good. yesterday the stream of passers-by who poke their heads in my window to ask for cigarettes and drugs started back up again. while i was tutoring a student, i heard a woman say "excuse me, um..." at which point it went like this :
pony: "no. just no."
intruder lady: "but it's just that i want to ask you..."
pony: "no. i said no."
intruder lady: "but i'm waiting for a friend and i'm out of cigarettes..."
pony: "i said no because i'm not giving you one. there are plenty of tabacco shops in this street and i suggest you visit them."
intruder lady: "why? i just want one cigarette!"
pony: "jesus christ, do i come up into your house and interrupt what you are doing to insist that you give me some free shit? as soon as lose all concept of private space and common decency and do that, then and only then will i give you shit out of my window. until then, spread the word that you and everybody else coming up into my house asking for shit can fuck off."
intruder lady: "jeez, but, um..."
pony: "oh but are you fucking kidding me, no no no!"
but seriously y'all, this happens all the time. the day before i was chilling on the couch working (read: playing text twist and flipwords) when someone threw an empty soda can in my window. i jumped up real fast yelling "aw hell naw motherfucker" before i realized that french would be more effective when dealing with french can-throwers, adding "...i mean, va te faire foutre, sale con!"