I'm busy ranting elsewhere. Go find me there!
5.2.14
4.2.14
Tales from my town, part who knows what
Someone knocked on my door just now (6pm). Dogs (I have an extra one for the week) went nuts. I looked out--tall bloke in the shadows. "Yes?", I said. No answer. Ah well, grabbed the dogs and opened the door. He stretched out his hand, palm up and there was Dog's name tag (which I'd not even noticed was missing). I took it and thanked him.
He finally looked up, said "You spelled her name wrong. Hanna is with "A"".
"It's expensive to make a new one," I said (easier than arguing. Besides, Hanna is with an A. It's just not Dog's name)
"They're pretty", he said again (Dog 2 is a golden retriever. Dog is...well Dog)
"Thanks. Where did you find it?"
"Near the pond" (This is the Duck Pond, which is about 3 miles away)
I've been wondering what I'd have done if I found a dog's name tag anywhere. Well, we all know what I'd have done. Ignored it and left it on the ground. I'm almost 100% certain that would be my reaction. Maybe, if I were filled with the milk of human kindness on that day (unlikely), I'd have rung the number on the tag and told the person. There's absolutely no way I'd have gone to the person's home, miles from where I found it, and given it to them in person.
I'm a grump.
He finally looked up, said "You spelled her name wrong. Hanna is with "A"".
"It's expensive to make a new one," I said (easier than arguing. Besides, Hanna is with an A. It's just not Dog's name)
"They're pretty", he said again (Dog 2 is a golden retriever. Dog is...well Dog)
"Thanks. Where did you find it?"
"Near the pond" (This is the Duck Pond, which is about 3 miles away)
I've been wondering what I'd have done if I found a dog's name tag anywhere. Well, we all know what I'd have done. Ignored it and left it on the ground. I'm almost 100% certain that would be my reaction. Maybe, if I were filled with the milk of human kindness on that day (unlikely), I'd have rung the number on the tag and told the person. There's absolutely no way I'd have gone to the person's home, miles from where I found it, and given it to them in person.
I'm a grump.
3.2.14
I have feels...but not the kind they were looking for
Big day yesterday. I was glued to the television, cheering on This Team over That Team. It was the best. When That Guy ran over the line? Best feeling ever. It was like having Raylon Givens as *my* town's sheriff (Yes, I know he's a US Marshal or whatnot. Just go with it) and having the Tardis land on my back yard.
But, the best of feel was, of course, for this. Look at the wee puppy! they said. Look at the (ridiculously clean cut, very well dressed and *clean*) people! Look at the lovely horsies! I'm not a fan of horses. Friend Y (who I've known since a kid) lives with her bloke in a horse boarding farm in Maryland. Horses are giant and have large teeth.
But, puppies! you say. PUPPIES! How can you not like puppies? Looks like the woman bred them, doesn't it? Do you know how many dogs and cats are killed each day in US shelter? It's 3-4 million, each year according to the Humane Society. That's 1 every 11 seconds. Want a dog? Go to your bloody shelter, not to the pretty woman who happens to have 8 perfect-looking labrador puppies (most popular in US and also the most abandoned in shelters because you know what? Turns out labs are highly active and need a lot of exercise). Want a lab? Well, there are rescues that just focus on specific breeds. Go find one.
Labs. There's the other thing. A lovely golden lab (black dogs don't get adopted as often). There's not many of those around. So what if you watch this advert, get all the feels, go rescue (or buy, more likely) a perfect golden lab and find out it's a damned puppy. It pees everywhere. It chews things. It makes little whiny noises. It needs taking out *all* the damned time. Well, that's all right, isn't it? Just take it to the local shelter and go home and knock back a can of bud.
But, the best of feel was, of course, for this. Look at the wee puppy! they said. Look at the (ridiculously clean cut, very well dressed and *clean*) people! Look at the lovely horsies! I'm not a fan of horses. Friend Y (who I've known since a kid) lives with her bloke in a horse boarding farm in Maryland. Horses are giant and have large teeth.
But, puppies! you say. PUPPIES! How can you not like puppies? Looks like the woman bred them, doesn't it? Do you know how many dogs and cats are killed each day in US shelter? It's 3-4 million, each year according to the Humane Society. That's 1 every 11 seconds. Want a dog? Go to your bloody shelter, not to the pretty woman who happens to have 8 perfect-looking labrador puppies (most popular in US and also the most abandoned in shelters because you know what? Turns out labs are highly active and need a lot of exercise). Want a lab? Well, there are rescues that just focus on specific breeds. Go find one.
Labs. There's the other thing. A lovely golden lab (black dogs don't get adopted as often). There's not many of those around. So what if you watch this advert, get all the feels, go rescue (or buy, more likely) a perfect golden lab and find out it's a damned puppy. It pees everywhere. It chews things. It makes little whiny noises. It needs taking out *all* the damned time. Well, that's all right, isn't it? Just take it to the local shelter and go home and knock back a can of bud.
2.2.14
A(nother) triumphant return!
For real. Or so I think. I mean, the wishes of the universe(s?) are beyond me. And, yet, here I am.
Well, that's over let's get to more important things. Like that this year I'm actually going to (try to) become more social. No, stop rolling your eyes, people. Stop saying: Oh when have I heard that before (and answer: every year). This time, it's for real. I'll be *nice* to people. I'll go out more. I'll DO things. Whatever. I'll be social. I mean, I've lived here for almost three years and when people say "bring friends" (to BBQs or whatnots), I automatically think: but my friends live four hours/several continents away. That's not good, right? So, yes, Social. With a capital "S" even.
On that subject, I recently went to dinner with someone who should have been perfect for a potential friend. Like perfect. We did similar stuff (boring liberal arts-y academics), he'd lived in Asia, were both keen on animals (he has two cats--obviously we wouldn't ever be able to merge pets since Dog would pretty much eat said cats. But, still!) and, yet, it was quite possibly one of the most boring dinners of my life. And, as an academic, I've been to a fair few of those. I've had more fun talking about fishing with the chaps down at the pub than at a dinner with someone who (according to the wonders of the interwebs) is my "type". Hah, interwebs. You haven't figured out the key thing in all this getting together-ness. Let me tell you.
People don't want to hang out or live for foreever or stuff with people *just* like them. Wait, no. Some people might want that. Narcissistic bastards. But, most other people. Which is the majority of the people. Most other people want people who are different to them in some ways. Similar in others, of course. Especially if the goal is long-term friendship or getting together-ness (what *do* we call this anyway? Romance seems too fluffy. I don't buy that. Shacking up?). Imagine coming back home every day to someone *just* like you. In my case, it'd be someone who doesn't notice that there's dog hair everywhere. Who barely cooks. Who does laundry every couple of weeks (the basement is scary). Who lives more in the world of books and work rather than In Real Life (bah. WE all know Real Life sucks). In short, we don't want to live with us. And especially in the early stages of knowing someone else, we want to figure out what they enjoy that might be different. That we might learn about/from. At the pub the other day, there was a guy who had played rugby in various small towns in South America. I've never been to South America. I have no desire to ever go to South America. He'd never been to Thailand or anywhere in Southeast Asia. We sat around, talked rugby, talked travel and had far more fun. I came back with a list of random trivia about South America. He went home promising to try Thai food (he'd never had any! How is that possible!! I believe I told him that life is not worth living without ever having had good Thai food. How presumptuous is that! And yet how true).
Which sort of leads me to this. J.K. Rowling's claim that Harry and Hermione should have ended up together and that she regrets pairing up Hermione and Ron. This is obviously nuts since a) Weasley is our king (well, duh) and b) think of the Hermione-Ron pairing for a moment. In a series which subverts a lot of tropes, the Hermione-Ron thing just works for me (I"m talking about the books, not the films). Ron is not a magic user that's up to par with Hermione. But, he has what we'd probably call "street smarts" or whatever. He knows the magical world. He's grown up in it. He knows things about it that Hermione won't. Hermione doesn't need a partner who can help her with her magic--she's bloody Hermione! She can out magic anyone!! She needs a partner who is complementary. Who knows the everyday things about how the world of magic ticks. Being Harry's partner would have meant her life would be subsumed (word? buried? swallowed up by?) his. Harry is the star--he's the boy who lived. He's the boy who defeated Voldy. He's the damned hero. Being Harry's partner would mean Hermione couldn't be the Best Witch Evah. Because she'd always be just Harry's partner. And also they are just too similar--two muggle(ish) magic users. The only way Harry-Hermione works if it's a threesome with Ron.
Well, that's over let's get to more important things. Like that this year I'm actually going to (try to) become more social. No, stop rolling your eyes, people. Stop saying: Oh when have I heard that before (and answer: every year). This time, it's for real. I'll be *nice* to people. I'll go out more. I'll DO things. Whatever. I'll be social. I mean, I've lived here for almost three years and when people say "bring friends" (to BBQs or whatnots), I automatically think: but my friends live four hours/several continents away. That's not good, right? So, yes, Social. With a capital "S" even.
On that subject, I recently went to dinner with someone who should have been perfect for a potential friend. Like perfect. We did similar stuff (boring liberal arts-y academics), he'd lived in Asia, were both keen on animals (he has two cats--obviously we wouldn't ever be able to merge pets since Dog would pretty much eat said cats. But, still!) and, yet, it was quite possibly one of the most boring dinners of my life. And, as an academic, I've been to a fair few of those. I've had more fun talking about fishing with the chaps down at the pub than at a dinner with someone who (according to the wonders of the interwebs) is my "type". Hah, interwebs. You haven't figured out the key thing in all this getting together-ness. Let me tell you.
People don't want to hang out or live for foreever or stuff with people *just* like them. Wait, no. Some people might want that. Narcissistic bastards. But, most other people. Which is the majority of the people. Most other people want people who are different to them in some ways. Similar in others, of course. Especially if the goal is long-term friendship or getting together-ness (what *do* we call this anyway? Romance seems too fluffy. I don't buy that. Shacking up?). Imagine coming back home every day to someone *just* like you. In my case, it'd be someone who doesn't notice that there's dog hair everywhere. Who barely cooks. Who does laundry every couple of weeks (the basement is scary). Who lives more in the world of books and work rather than In Real Life (bah. WE all know Real Life sucks). In short, we don't want to live with us. And especially in the early stages of knowing someone else, we want to figure out what they enjoy that might be different. That we might learn about/from. At the pub the other day, there was a guy who had played rugby in various small towns in South America. I've never been to South America. I have no desire to ever go to South America. He'd never been to Thailand or anywhere in Southeast Asia. We sat around, talked rugby, talked travel and had far more fun. I came back with a list of random trivia about South America. He went home promising to try Thai food (he'd never had any! How is that possible!! I believe I told him that life is not worth living without ever having had good Thai food. How presumptuous is that! And yet how true).
Which sort of leads me to this. J.K. Rowling's claim that Harry and Hermione should have ended up together and that she regrets pairing up Hermione and Ron. This is obviously nuts since a) Weasley is our king (well, duh) and b) think of the Hermione-Ron pairing for a moment. In a series which subverts a lot of tropes, the Hermione-Ron thing just works for me (I"m talking about the books, not the films). Ron is not a magic user that's up to par with Hermione. But, he has what we'd probably call "street smarts" or whatever. He knows the magical world. He's grown up in it. He knows things about it that Hermione won't. Hermione doesn't need a partner who can help her with her magic--she's bloody Hermione! She can out magic anyone!! She needs a partner who is complementary. Who knows the everyday things about how the world of magic ticks. Being Harry's partner would have meant her life would be subsumed (word? buried? swallowed up by?) his. Harry is the star--he's the boy who lived. He's the boy who defeated Voldy. He's the damned hero. Being Harry's partner would mean Hermione couldn't be the Best Witch Evah. Because she'd always be just Harry's partner. And also they are just too similar--two muggle(ish) magic users. The only way Harry-Hermione works if it's a threesome with Ron.
14.1.14
A triumphant return
Back! This is getting to be a regular thing in which I say: Back! and then disappear for weeks (if not months). Not much to write here at the moment--went to Nepal for a few weeks, hung out with parents trying to help them with bureaucratic things, grandmother died. Both her and granddad died in the same year, meaning "home" was weirdly different. It felt like I was visiting people--my parents--rather than going back "home". Ah well.
In less serious stuff, I've posted elsewhere about my thoughts on an important piece of popular culture. Go read.
In less serious stuff, I've posted elsewhere about my thoughts on an important piece of popular culture. Go read.
5.12.13
Things change
Finished class today to realize my sister had rung four
times. Left no message. “What’s going on?” I texted her. She called back right away. “Well, you see, the
thing is…” “What?” I was sure it was something silly. Something amusing. I’ve
been feeling overwhelmed lately…and they've been trying to cheer me up.
But, it wasn't that.
“Well, it’s Bhabi (grandmother). She’s…not here anymore.” “Where
is she?”, I didn’t get it. Then, I did. I knew she'd been sick but apparently things got worse. The doctors were talking of cutting off fingers and hands because of gangrene. I didn't even know people could still get gangrene when they were in hospital. But, this is Nepal. A different world. Which I often forget.
I grew up with my grandparents. I lived with them. They called me "Nani" ("girl"). No one else does. My granddad went to all my
school functions, end of term meetings, made sure everything was ok and always
thought I would do a PhD (first person in the family—ever!). My grandmother
packed lunch in the mornings before school, always (always) told me how much
she missed me when her and granddad rang (my parents don’t really do this) and
listened to all my complaints and whingeing when I was growing up. She was
patient, extremely hard-working and the nicest person I’ve ever met. She used
to say about herself: “Here I am, a girl from a tiny village and your granddad took
me all around the world! I couldn’t believe it about myself.” [my granddad worked
for the Ministry of Industry and they travelled to South America, US, all over
Western Europe and, of course, India and China and elsewhere in Asia in the 1950s]. I want to
think I got my love for travel off her. Definitely didn’t get the niceness.
I keep on thinking I should have called more often; I should
have said more; I should have…
And, tomorrow, I have to stop crying, get on with the day,
take the latest job candidate around, have lunch with them, and act as though
nothing’s changed.
When it has.
25.11.13
Thanksgiving blues
I've been writing (a bit) elsewhere. It's been a weirdly odd couple of days. I realise I am the most miserable being on my own during Thanksgiving break. Maybe it's because it seems more of a "family and friends" thing while Christmas always seemed to me (in the US, at least) as a family-only thing. Therefore, puttering about the house on my own on Thanksgiving is...a bit (ok, a lot) miserable. I also realise that I've been here over two years and don't really think of it as "home". Well, that's normal, I guess. I don't particularly think of anywhere as "home" and, if I had the choice, I'd meet my parents/siblings outside of Nepal (not because Nepal is awful but because the house has memories of my granddad and is also very (very) old and sort of falling apart).
So, yes, Thanksgiving. I want to do all the things I've not had a chance to all semester--revise and send off an article that I've been working on (off and on) for ages. I want to clean the house a bit. Put up some stuff on its walls. Watch a movie (or two). But, after a bit, the whole doing nothing on your own gets to me this week. I suppose it's good then that a couple of friends might be coming down for a visit. But, again, that's stressful since I have to think about cooking and actually cook and try to find things I can cook a day or two ahead so...all right, I'm stressing myself out just by typing that.
I recently had a conversation with someone who had lived here for seven years. She mentioned she hated this place. I don't. I enjoy the birdwatching, the square dancing, the driving around with Dog and having a house with a porch to lounge in. But, I don't see it as a place where I live and that, I think, is the difference. I still think of my friends as the ones in DC (and overseas...but mostly DC). I still try to go to a couple of get-togethers with people each year...also in DC. I still think that, if anything were to happen to me, I'd want to be in hospital...in DC (my doctor's office here has Bible quotes on the walls. Makes me a bit uncomfortable), bludge off my friends...in DC.
Maybe getting a job somewhere further away from DC would have helped me get out of this and forced me to become more social. Maybe not. Most likely not. My view is: I already have friends and there's pretty much no need to make the (stressful and worrying) effort to try to hang out when I don't want to and don't have time. I see the 'burg as a place where I work. I see my work as a place where I work. Not where I live. Not where I'll live all the time. And not as home with friends.
Writing that, I realise I need to change a bit of that. Maybe. But probably not in the next day or two and, on holidays when I do have time to "hang out", I'm never here. So, see? A place to work. Not a place to live. But, for now, that's ok.
So, yes, Thanksgiving. I want to do all the things I've not had a chance to all semester--revise and send off an article that I've been working on (off and on) for ages. I want to clean the house a bit. Put up some stuff on its walls. Watch a movie (or two). But, after a bit, the whole doing nothing on your own gets to me this week. I suppose it's good then that a couple of friends might be coming down for a visit. But, again, that's stressful since I have to think about cooking and actually cook and try to find things I can cook a day or two ahead so...all right, I'm stressing myself out just by typing that.
I recently had a conversation with someone who had lived here for seven years. She mentioned she hated this place. I don't. I enjoy the birdwatching, the square dancing, the driving around with Dog and having a house with a porch to lounge in. But, I don't see it as a place where I live and that, I think, is the difference. I still think of my friends as the ones in DC (and overseas...but mostly DC). I still try to go to a couple of get-togethers with people each year...also in DC. I still think that, if anything were to happen to me, I'd want to be in hospital...in DC (my doctor's office here has Bible quotes on the walls. Makes me a bit uncomfortable), bludge off my friends...in DC.
Maybe getting a job somewhere further away from DC would have helped me get out of this and forced me to become more social. Maybe not. Most likely not. My view is: I already have friends and there's pretty much no need to make the (stressful and worrying) effort to try to hang out when I don't want to and don't have time. I see the 'burg as a place where I work. I see my work as a place where I work. Not where I live. Not where I'll live all the time. And not as home with friends.
Writing that, I realise I need to change a bit of that. Maybe. But probably not in the next day or two and, on holidays when I do have time to "hang out", I'm never here. So, see? A place to work. Not a place to live. But, for now, that's ok.
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