"the day before the ides of march" | tuesday | march 14, 2006 | 8:56 am

REALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO SAY TODAY. I've been lax. Very lax. And my poor website has lapsed into sporadic paragraphs of vague mumblings sprinkled with the occasional hurried recap of something or another. I have just been way too consumed with other distractions (read: school, school, and WoW). I need to make sure to be better about things, other things. Till then, there are some fun and funny things you can look at over at my LJ: google image meme, engrish menu fun, my johari window.

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"day one of spring break" | monday | march 20, 2006 | 10:49 pm

FFICIALLY, TODAY IS THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING BREAK. I have been done with classes for a week now (last week was finals week), as well as done with writing papers and grading as of last Wednesday. And I have been enjoying my time off since. But today I had to wake up at a relatively usual time to head to campus to turn in my grades for my students. They were due today by 10 AM. I could've turned my grades in last week, but I was turning in a set for a friend as well (and didn't get them till last night). Why bother with two trips when one will do? So, now, I am on break--short as it will be.

Last week has been spent primarily just enjoying the unfetteredness of this limbo time between quarters, which has always been vaguely disconcerting for me. I think for others, too. My routine has been broken and I wake up a little disoriented. What should I do with all of this time and opportunity? Last week I had some grand plans, a couple of projects that I wanted to work on while I had some "Ed" time. As completely nerdy as it sounds, I started the process of archiving and organizing and filing all of the piles of essays, articles, photocopies, excerpts, stories, and poems that I have collected over the years in (grad) school. My original "system" was to keep them organized by course. However, the number of pieces of paper have multiplied to the point that I can no longer remember accurately where anything is or if I even have it. I've created a pretty simple spreadsheet arranged by author but take into account fields like title, source, course, term, folder location, and keywords. I archived just a set of nearly thirty articles for my postcolonialism class of this past quarter. Now I just have to repeat the process for dozens more. I won't get it all done over break, but I think it's a good project to work on especially as I get closer and closer to my exams and dissertation. Like I said, it's pretty nerdy but strangely satisfying to my very Apollonian side.

My other projects have not fared so well. Though my desk is almost cleared off of the great piles that have sedimented there over the weeks. My refrigerator actually has stuff in it for once. But my goal of reorganizing my closets (again, totally dorky lame but would really be nice) or solidly finishing the revisions to Tellings are still pending. Ah well. I have a little time left.

I am tired. I have been for weeks. I know it's in part because of the weather and the chill. I know it's in part because of the wear of the quarter. But I also know that I am not eating particularly well or wise as of late. I need to get back on the ball there. I also know that I really need to find a way to get some exercise back into my life. The walking around the city is a good thing, but even that has been limited because of school and work and laziness.

I am also tired because of all the end of the quarter partying. Everyone's been ready to just cut loose. Unfortunately, my friends have been ready at different times. Last Wednesday, I went out with my friend Sydney to The Wild Rose (1021 E. Pike) and had a few drinks with the lesbians; she had wanted to do karaoke but somehow we managed to just hang out, drink, and chat with people. Last Thursday night a bunch of people and I went out to Neighbours for 80s night and dancing. We front-loaded at my place and then walked down to the club. It was really fun to be out at Neighbours again, to dance, to see my club friends, and to just be out. I forgot how much I really like going out. That was a very drunken night that ended with going to QFC to buy food and walking home in the wee, wee hours of the morning.

Then last Friday night, was St. Patrick's Day and also Guerilla Queer Bar Seattle. We went to an Irish pub in Wallingford called Murphy's (1928 N. 45th Ave @ Meridian). It was mad packed and crazy. Unfortunately, very few people showed up for GQBS or were scared away by the crazy line, the crowd, and the cover. So, it was myself, my friend Andrew, my friend Jay, and my friend Jason for most of the night. I had a good time, though. It was super straight and fratty and bourgie. But there were some damn fine guys there that night. We bought overpriced pitchers from a really fun but trashed server and sang drinking songs all night. I think it would have been totally more fun if there had been a strong contingent of queers and queer friendlies at the bar.

This past weekend has been a little slower, but I still have managed to go out. After three nights straight of drinking, the days have been spent pretty much just relaxing, recovering, and hydrating. But last Saturday night, Jason and I met up with some English folk at Six Arms (300 E. Pike Street), which I thought was nautical themed but turns out to be named for some six-armed Indian goddess (probably Durga). I only had a couple of drinks that night. I just couldn't take it anymore. Though, after Six Arms, a contingent of folks walked up the street to Linda's (707 E. Pine Street), but not before my friend Kevin and I stopped in at the Manray. The Manray is a trendy, futuristic, all-white (in more ways than one) gay video bar. It's not very big, but it's swanky. The majority of men there are attractive, fashionable, tall, and very mainstream. It's a place that I feel out-of-place and generally am made to feel out-of-place because the guys there rarely pay me any mind. But Kevin wanted to do something "all gay" for a little bit. It was fun people watching. And then we went to Linda's. But I managed to make it an early night and went home around midnight.

Sunday was supposed to be a day dedicated to rest. Really. I ended up going to the grocery store. Then I joined a group of friends on a trip to Edmonds (a town north of Seattle) to 99 Ranch, an Asian supermarket for some much needed supplies. Pacheree, Crystal, Christian, Michael and I ran around the store talking about all the different kind of foods we liked or remembered or wanted to try. Asian markets always remind me of shopping with my mother. And seeing all the colorful packaging and out of the ordinary delicacies and products really took me back to my childhood. It was a fun excursion and I managed not to spend too much money. Sunday evening was spent in until Jay called and asked if I wanted to meet up with him and another MFA student Zach and Zach's friend from out of town. Of course, I went. We went to The Comet Tavern, a grungy, divey joint where a lot of live-music happens. Fortunately, Sunday nights it was totally quiet and nearly empty. We played a little pool, talked about school and art, and then had a late night snack at the Broadway Grill. (I had met Zach before--he's been out to a GQBS and to grad pub--and I think he's totally cute, though straight, and his friend Walker--a great name for an artist--who is also totally cute, though straight.) Then home.

Today, the beginning of vacation, started a little slow. I didn't sleep very well because my upstairs neighbor was being extra bumpy and thumpy in the middle of the night; he kept waking me up. But I got up, got cleaned up, and as I said, made my way up to school to drop off grades. I ran into a bunch of people also turning in grades; it was nice to be on a very quiet campus. Then I went home, played some WoW, and then made plans to do "something" to enjoy the much coveted sunshine. Jay came down. Jason picked us up. And we decided to explore the local geography. We made the decision to visit Georgetown (a little neighborhood south of Seattle tucked in an industrial part of town), which is supposed to be up-and-coming with tons of artists and new businesses and local flavor. We found it--at least the strip along S. Airport Way. There were a bunch of little storefronts, bars, restaurants, and a huge art studio complex in the old Rainier Brewery. But it was really quiet in the middle of the day on a Monday. I wonder if its more fun and feisty at night on a weekend. We stopped into a tiny little cafe called The Two Tartes for some coffee and to make a plan. The two hipstery kids working there--he with his moppy hair and tattoos and ratty clothes and she with her two-tone hair and earrings--confessed to not really knowing how to use the espresso machine (though the attempt was relatively successful). They recommended a couple of places in the area to go and revealed that Georgetown is pretty quiet generally. They were cool and didn't charge us much for coffee. From Georgetown, we wound our way to Des Moines (no, not in Iowa), a local neighborhood (incidentally where our Two Tartes servers were from) know for its waterfront. We stopped first at Saltwater State Park and walked on the shelly, gritty beach. Now we could say that we went to the beach for spring break. It was really lovely to be near the water (in this case the Puget Sound, but there were little waves). Then we went to the Des Moines marina. Jason has a fascination with marinas. It was pretty quiet. There were a few people out. A couple of windsurfers. A couple of older men fishing off the end of the pier. And a really scary guy parked, lights on, by himself, near the public bathrooms, sitting in his car reading the bible. After the marina, we took a scenic drive northward (through West Seattle) to have dinner at Alki Beach, which is directly across Elliot Bay from downtown Seattle. Alki Beach, as Jason puts it, is like a tiny stretch of the Jersey Shore in Seattle. The beach is supposed to be very popular in the summer (even though it's tiny, tiny, tiny). There was a certain beachfront swank to the area. The views of the city are amazing. We walked along the beach and then decided to have fish and chips (for which there are many establishments in Alki) at Spud Fish & Chips (2666 Alki Ave SW), which was pretty yummy.

Our little mini-vacation, which was really nice to get out of the "usual" terrain of the city even for a short bit, ended with going to the movies. We went to see V for Vendetta. I liked it. I am amazed that it was made given the current political climate, and I am amazed it's being shown and watched. I was entertained and I think there were some interesting things going on in the film. I'm sure someone will write about its construction of gender and sexuality.

After the movie, the three of us were pooped and called it an evening. We had all week for further adventures. And with that it is time for me to sleep. More soon.

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"stunned" | sunday | march 26, 2006 | 11:10 pm

STOUNDED. That's what I am this morning. Completely caught off guard by events. In this world. In this city. In my neighborhood. I woke up, groggy and tired and anxious (from a week of pushing my body too hard) to find an email from a friend from school reporting a shooting in Capitol Hill. Just a handful of blocks away from me. My friend, sadly, knew some of the victims, and I can only imagine what it must be like to lose someone to violence of the most pernicious sort. I am grateful that there were some that made it to safety. I am saddened by those that did not. Condolences and best of wishes to those that have lost or were lost.

It further astounds me whenever these awful shootings happen (and it seems that there are more and more, symptomatic of something larger, deeper, more awful that our society has yet to address in any way adequately, some sort of malaise) that the media response is so formulaic, almost jaded, spinning the language and culture of fear to its own ends. We have the script now since Columbine and the discourse is eerily similar. There is the fascination with and repulsion by youth culture. The reports fixate on the victims attendance at a rave, a "goth" themed rave, on counterculture, on possible links to drugs and alchohol, on the hedonism. Curious and deeply rhetorically savvy details are included like that the killer was wearing all black or a quote from my friend mentioning the film V for Vendetta is used or the weapons are specifically described as used for "hunting people" (as opposed to what in this case?) or that the shooting is characterised as "execution-style" (like it's a flavor of sauce, again opposed to what other kind of meditated killing?). Taken individually, the details seem innocuous, all part of the first rule of journalism to get details, to be telling. But the details add up in a curious way that is specifically designed to evoke a certain kind of pathos, to re-remember for us past shootings. Really. I don't think anyone should be allowed to use the word "terror" any more--it's become a worthless, banal word.

Motives haven't been ascertained (or released yet). The shooter's spray painting of the word "NOW" on the steps of the building is strange, foreboding, and evocative of some sort of imperative, a call to action. For what end? By what impetus? And who should answer the call? The stereotypical response in me is that this must be hate driven (of the legalistic, identity-politics, multiculturalism-as-failure variety), perhaps by some radical, neoconservative, neoreligious, homophobic, privilege-threatened man. I don't know. I know that it's probably complicated. But there's a trend here. The lack of mention of the victims' race or class or sexuality is problematic (even though Capitol Hill is a predominately queer area of town). Only the killer gets identified as white, late twenties, "big and beefy," and "quiet and humble." Why are all killers so often described as quiet or humble or unassuming or average? The rhetorical answer is of course that the antithesis of quiet versus violent, humble versus wrathful, average versus obvious creates more fear, more shock, more distress, more "I can't believe it..." The story "Ravers Flock to Web for News" is another good example where the rhetorical choices are problematic. Here, young people, labeled "ravers," are (in)advertantly characterised as childish, silly, or crazy by their use or the reporters use of their "rave" names. "Onixx" or "Slinky" or "Trixxi" or "White Rabbit" show solidarity for their friends, for their community, but for a mainstream audience also rhetorically evacuates any sense of authority from these people. They're cartoon characters, caricatures that have little impact. It's a choice that should have been handled differently.

It's all just fucked up. I know. I wasn't there. I didn't know anyone there (that I know of). But it is startling to realize that I could have been there, I might have known someone, I could have been walking down that street minding my own business, I might be a target one day because I align myself with certain subcultures. I want events like these not to happen, but because they do, I want them to be handled better, more justly, more critically. Murder happens all the time. Killings happen all the time. Time, space, geography, demographic, and rhetorical situation decides whether it is right or wrong, good or bad, reported or hidden. I really hope some solid details come up soon and are reported as clearly as possible without all the slick spin. I hope that the fixation on subculture is not more harmful than helpful. I hope that this case of another white, male, "lone gunman" does not simply buy into the narratives so deeply ingrained in our society (narratives which tend to focus solely on the heteronormative white male and erases or forgets stories like this that happen to brown, female, queer, poor people all the time).

I am sad. I am also fucking angry that I am afraid. I know that there is some healthy fear underneath all of the societal- and media-fabricated fear, so I want to keep things in perspective. Again, best to those whose lives have been changed. May hope and healing and wisdom be swift.

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