My hair looks great right now

which figures, because I feel disgusting and gross; I have a HIDEOUS headache but can’t just go to bed because — yay — midterms are this week!  And I work almost every hour that I’m not in class. 

Aside from a rather unpleasant day because of all that, though, two good things happened.

 I got a new phone that is probably cooler than your phone.  I’ve never really cared about phones before, and even this is almost too fancy for me.  But now Heather and I have matching phones, which is pretty cute.  And it has an alphabet keyboard, so texting is easier than ever!

AND I signed up for an 8-week Chinese immersion class.  It only meets once a week, on Monday nights, so no telling how much I’ll get out of it, but why not, right?  Especially since I’m thinking about going to China this summer for my trip (not sure yet because I still really want to see Ireland or Greece, but I’m also wanting to branch out form Europe more, so I might do two trips; we’ll see, we’ll see).

Now I have a wicked lot of homework to do and my head is throbbing with the click of the keys, so I’m going to go get on that and just not worry about doing my laundry tonight.  :/ 

Happy 200th post!!!

This was my view Saturday morning after a bajillion feet of snow fell Friday.  When I went to North End, at one point Iwas up to my KNEES in freshly fallen snow.

New layout?  Yes, I was needing a change.  I’m also in the process of going through all my entries and retagging but as you can see from the subject, this is post 200 and that’s a lot of retagging.

Today I learned that prunes are dried PLUMS.  And they are yummy, so I don’t understand why they get such a bad rap.  They are certainly not the only fruit to encourage speedy digestion, so I don’t understand.

I bought a new toothbrush and I’m really, really excited about that.

Midterms this week.  And I’m working ten hours more than usual to cover some shifts.  Not a good combination. :/ 

I ate fresh mango for lunch today, though, and that makes everything better!

First time for everything

For the first time in my LIFE, I am officially snowed in.

Woke up this morning and worked out a bit, showered, got my stuff together, and trouped through the snowstorm to North End to begin photographing for my project.  I wound up getting two of my four rolls shot, though I won’t feel confident until I get these rolls processed.  I have a knack for screwing up film with this camera.  For instance, I thought I had loaded and had taken six shots before I realized the film wasn’t loaded.  Fortunately, I was able to reshoot all but one photo.  Took me three hours to shoot those two rolls, and I was near frozen by the end.  And while my initial plan was to go process them tonight, due to the blizzard raging outside, Emerson has shut down.

Oh, and my forensics tournament tomorrow has been cancelled, but with the time restrictions I already have on this photography project (I have to have four rolls or processed negatives and four contact sheets by Wednesday), I’m going to need tomorrow, so it all works out.

But more importantly, I want to blog a moment about the people of North End.  They’re Italian.  They’re Bostonians.  They’re simultaneously really nice and really cranky, and often rather flirty.

The point of this photo project is to capture a place on film.  I was originally going to do Copp’s Hill Cemetary, but realized there was no way I could take 4×36 (what is that? I don’t remember how to multiply) pictures, so I decided to do the entire of North End.  So I pass the butcher shop that I’ve passed many times before and motion to the cute fat old man inside, asking if I can take a picture.  He nods and stands there awkwardly, not sure whether to smile or not.  I wait until his smile is gone before I snap the picture.

Walking further down the street, this young guy (probably a little older than me) who is delivering things with a rolly cart yells, ‘Hey, hey, lady, take my picture!’  He then poses with it in the middle of the street and it was a SUPERB picture.  I thanked him and he thanked me, telling me I was, ’Beautiful, beautiful, bella!”  Unfortunately, it was after that photo I realized my film had not loaded properly, so the photo doesn’t actually exist, and I was unable to find him again to reshoot it.

I took a picture of a man shoveling snow in front of an old corner grocery store, and apparently he had fallen right before I took the picture.  He’s standing up normally and all, but when he looked over and saw me with a camera, he yelled rather grumpily, “Did you get me falling, cracking my a**?”  I assured him that I did not and hurried on.

A man had his beautiful golden retriever puppy on a leash and I wanted a picture but he was on the phone.  The dog was being quite flirty, watching me and rolling around, so I went ahead and took the picture without asking the man because he was on his cell.  WHen he hung up, though, he laughed about what a flirt his dog was, so I didn’t worry too much.

I was finally too frozen and stopped in a little sports cafe bar (Italian-style, not American-style) to get a cappuchino and an apple tart — yum!  There was a table beside me where a mid-20s woman was yelling at her father for investing the $94000 she gave him in repairing an old house when he had a perfectly good house on the other side of North End.  He was just a slow, sweet old man and kept assuring her he did the right thing, and the elderly mom stayed wisely silent.  At the end, the daughter barked at him to put his coat on, then told them to keep eating, she would go pay.  It was such a beautiful example of generation- and culture-clash.  It would not surprise me if the parents were from Italy, or at the least first generation.  The daughter was completely Americanized, though, a confident young working girl.

I asked the Italian man who owned the place if I could take a couple pictures for my project and he said go right ahead, so hopefully those turn out.  And then suddenly these two ADORABLE old men walked in.  I asked if I could take their picture and the skinny one said, “Honey, you can take anything you want” — but cute, not creepy.  They asked where I was from and said they’ve both been to Dallas and Ft. Worth, and were just so charming and cheerful.  I took two photos, because they insisted on smiling in the first, and then I snagged another when they turned to laugh at each other.  They then wished me a good stay in Boston and I went on my merry way.

I tried to usually ask people before I took their picture, but a few I didn’t.  The problem with asking is that usually they then smile for the camera, which is not what you want at all unless that’s the point of the picture. 

I’ll go back tomorrow or Sunday to shoot my other two, maybe three rolls.  I’m really enjoying having a purpose to shoot, you know?  It’s possible my teacher isn’t going to be happy with my project.  I got a lot of buildings and statues — and especially signs and flags, which are a prominent part of North End.  But I feel like especially a place so characterized by its people, one simply must include them in the photos.  How could you photograph the Italian neighborhood without photographing the Italians and their children?!? 

Please say intense prayers that my negatives and photos turn out well.  If they do, I think I’ll have some of the best photographs I’ve ever taken, but like I said, I’m WONDERFUL at messing them up.  When all is said and done, I’ll post some scans of the better ones on here.

Why I’m scared to go to work sometimes

Last night this rather scruffy guy came in with five packages of unground coffee in a torn shopping bag and told us his girlfriend gave them to him but he didn’t want them and wanted to return them from money.  Clearly that was not the case, so D told him that we have to have a receipt or valid ID to accept returns.  The guy was very upset but when stomping out, and D went to tell (manager) Kyle (who was sitting in the back room doing scheduling).  Five minutes later, the guy came back in with an ID from St. Francis’ House, which is the homeless shelter down the street.  Sarah (shift lead) told him that unfortunately, this wasn’t a valid Massachusetts is, so he went stomping off again.  By this point, we were all already a bit shaken up; he was clearly not *all* there, but he wasn’t posing enough of a threat to warrant calling hte police.  I was on the floor alone when he came in for the third time, still waving his head around and pacing with his dirty hands.  This time, he had brought one of the workers from St. Francis to use his ID.  Kyle came out to “handle” things and would only let them return two bags of coffee for cash, for $20; he said the rest had to be store credit.  They argued for some time, then finally accepted this and left, but we wrote an e-mail down to St. Francis saying how upset we were that one of their workers helped a man rip off our store when we support them by giving them all our marked out pastries.

 This was one instance.  Earlier, the man’s friend had come in and asked if we could trade her pennies for dollars, then yelled at us when we said no.  And fifteen minutes before her, another homeless man had done so.

Last Friday when I worked, a man in a reflective vest and bright orange beanie came in and began yelling obsceneties at us (which I won’t type), then when we threatened to call the police insisted we wouldn’t do it.  He kept yelling that he was a police officer and wanted us to write his information down.  He kept making threatening gestures, yelling at us, calling us names.  We finally got him out but he came back ten minutes later, so we actually called the cops.  All they did was tell us that if he came back, not to tell him we were calling but to call, and they would send somebody.

Three days before I arrived, a homeless methhead came in and peed in the lobby.

We no longer have a public restroom because methdealers used to use it to make their deals and then assault baristas when they tried to make them leave.

Incidents like these occur on a daily basis, and unfortunately the police are no help at all.  They refuse to come.  Our store is in the drug district (yes, so is the corner I live on); the alley which we put our trash in has been featured on the television show COPS for drug busts.  Daily homeless people, drunks, or those strung out on crack or meth wander into our store.  Usually they are more an annoyance than anything, asking for free coffee or if we’ll trade their coins for cash (store policy, we don’t).  Unfortunately, sometimes they’re much more violent, and you can see that all the baristas are a little rattled, flustered, shaken up.  Each time one storms out of the store, we think “Is he going to be back here in thirty minutes with a gun?” 

 I suppose then the police would take our calls seriously, but why does it even have to escalate to that point?  We should have a panic button by the register that goes directly to the police department.  It’s ridiculous for us to have to fear for our lives simply by going to work.  Just because (well, aside from teh meth dealer assaults) baristas haven’t been hurt yet doesn’t mean it’s never going to happen.  I’ve only worked there two weeks, and I’m already sick of the adrenaline rush that follows when a confrontation occurs.

Anyways, that’s my sob story.  I wish I was rich and could afford to not work this semester.

Tournament Results

I won fifth place in prose and fifth place in dramatic interp.  Ironically, I didn’t even break to finals in poetry, which was the one I thought would do better.

 My goal was to break in one event, so in that regard I was successful.  And I’ll definitely use this as help to make me better for Regionals in two weeks.  But I still haven’t qualified for nats.

Three quite random things

that I have wanted to blog about but keep forgetting to.  Ideally, these would be three different entries, but deal.

 1. The other day it rained.  Wednesday.  I worked 6am-11am and then needed to run to the milliner’s (I call it that; I don’t know if it technically is a milliners, but it sounds cool).  So I was wearing the long black shirt with stitched on hearts Jordan made me for my 18th birthday, my white mini skirt, and black leggings (because the skirt is a bit short, and DEFINITELY too short when it’s cold outside).  It’s kind of an 80s-era outfit.  Then I had on my striped pink rainboots, and my black peacoat.  I was walking back from the milliner’s and had my headphones in, but they weren’t on.  Often I do that because I either forget to turn them back on and don’t want to get my fingers cold OR because you sure do hear some interesting things.  This time, I strode past this middle-aged guy who was walking too slowly for me.  He didn’t think I could hear him, but he muttered, “That’s an interesting look.”  I was about ready to turn around and give him a pointed look, but he added, “Nice.”  It was just a calm afterthought, like some old guy admiring a very floral garden or something.  So I’m not quite sure how to take it. 

2. I live on the 11th floor right on the corner of Boylston and Tremont Streets, which is the windiest corner in the city.  There’s this really cool spiral draft that gets going sometimes, and often flocks of pigeons or a couple seagulls will jump on and ride the circle top to bottom.  Once I saw two GIANT swarms of pigeons riding; one started, then the next group started.  It was a great visual effect.  Anyways, about two days ago a RED HAWK leapt on.  Occasionally I’ll see these, and I’m just in awe of hawks.  So I rushed to my window seat and watched him spiral down, then back up, just gliding on the current.  But then, as if he knew I was watching him, he disappeared momentarily, then swooped right across my window.  Like, if I had stuck my hand out the window, I would have touched him.  It was unreal.  Beautiful.  Inspirational.  I hope he comes back.

3.  I have a new obsession: flossing.  Why did it take me almost 20 years to realize how much FUN flossing is?  I’m being entirely serious.  I look forward to flossing every night.  I’m limiting myself, though.  I mean, flossing more than once a day would just be crazy.  Right?

Yes, I slept through my forensics tournament today.  Lame.  I’ll let you know tomorrow how tournament two goes.  Also to come: an explanation of why I’m sometimes scared to go to work, and why the alley behind my Starbucks is FAMOUS (literally; it’s been on TV).

Not much to report, cap’n

My days continue to contain nothing besides classes, speech and debate, and dealing with one problem after another.  I’m getting bills for medical things that insurance is being skitzy about.  I can’t afford to live off-campus.  I’m continuing to battle bad insomnia and an inability to remain awake during the day.  My classes aren’t too bad anymore, but the workload is still significant, and within the next couple of weeks papers are going to start springing up.  Because I’m not having time to do anything fun, not even to go walking around the historical neighborhoods of Boston, I’m homesick and depressed. 

Mainly, though, I’m stressing out about speech and debate.  I’m afraid I’m going to make a fool of myself this weekend.  The problem is that last year, I started competing in forensics without any knowledge of what I was doing.  Things are always more fun when you first start out, because you aren’t nervous, no one has any expectations.  But now there are expectations.  The worst that happens is not that I don’t place (I croaked last year at Suffolk, too, so I’m kinda expecting it).  The worst is that I perform all my events and do so terrible that I feel as though I’ve let myself and everyone with high expectations for me down.  I had judges last year tell me in the halls they couldn’t wait to see me once I got a bit more experienced.  Well now I still don’t have any experience.  I haven’t competed since last April, but everyone else I’ll be going against tomorrow had all last summer to memorize and rehearse their pieces.  I’ve had two weeks; one week, if you take into consideration that I didn’t have my pieces put together enough to begin practicing until Sunday.

I’m trying to tell myself to care less.  I’ll get up there and perform, and what happens, happens.  If I fail miserably, so be it; I’ll have one more tournament in which to try and qualify for nats.  But I’m such a perfectionist, I’m such an over-achiever, and just because I’ve become much more laid back and relaxed in college doesn’t mean I still don’t want to get up there and knock the socks off the judges.  I want them to be wowed. 

 I guess what it comes down to is, this year I know more what I’m going into.  Granted, I’m scrabbling at the last minute to put pieces together.  But I guess I worry now that last year was simply beginner’s luck and that this year I’m going to be slapped in the face with the awful truth that my best just isn’t good enough.  Yet another thing that I’m “okay” at but will never be great at.

I’m ready to be great at something.  I’m ready to enjoy this semester.  I’m ready to have fun.  I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had fun this semester, and it’s unfair.  Quite frequently, lately, I’ve wished I was auditioning for plays instead of doing speech and debate. 

Basically, what it comes down to is this: by the end of February, I will have either qualified for nats, or I will not.  If I have not, I will accept that I’m just not that good, and humbly bow out of forensics.  The end.

Tomorrow is my second day of work, and another 6am shift.  I’m dreading it only because I don’t want to have to get up early, and because there’s SO much to do in the three hours between work and class, and SO much to do after class.  When am I going to have free time again?  When am I NOT going to feel guilty for taking an hour out to enjoy myself?

Win/Lose

So I was rooting for the Giants becaue I like the Manning brothers.

But if the Patriots had won, classes would have been cancelled Tuesday for a parade.

So I’m not sure whether I won or not.

Forensics is going a little better.  I have poetry, prose, and di put together and just need to write intros and practice now.  I’m not going to bother with POI for Suffolk; I just can’t put together an entire other event in the next four days when my first three still need so much work.  Maybe for Northeastern Regionals (which are at my school three weeks from yesterday).

It’s a little after eleven now.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t take sleeping pills tonight (which is for the best anyways; it already scares me taking them two nights in a row) because I have to get up at 5am for work.  It’s only a four hour shift, which is good, because I’m not going to get any sleep tonight.  At least it’s relatively quiet outside on the streets of Boston, due to the Pats losing and it being a Sunday night.  But I’m going to toss and turn all night, maybe get 20-30 minutes of sleep at a time, then stumble into work for my first shift at a brand new store.

Needless to say, prayers would be very much appreciated: for this new store, as well as for my insomnia, and for my forensics tournament this coming weekend.  I feel like once I get this weekend (which is a double, back-to-back tournament) out of the way, my life is going to be a lot less complicated.  And then MOMMY WILL BE ON HER WAY! YAY!

Superbowl tomorrow, guys!

I realize I’ve started slacking a bit in my blogging.  Meh.  I’ve been working hardcore on speech and debate stuff all weekend thus far, and I’m definitely making progress.  I still have a LOT to do before I compete Saturday, though, so I could really use prayers big time.  I realize I’m not going to be on my A-Game Saturday nor Sunday (I work until midnight Friday night and then have to be at Suffolk early . . . did I type that in my last entry already?)  but I at least don’t want to make a fool of myself.

 The insomnia has gotten worse.  I’m sure it’s a result to the copious amounts of caffeine that I’m ingesting lately to help me have the energy and alertness to get things done.  I finally took some Tylenol PM around 4am this morning, desperate for rest.  The sounds of the city, the heat of my room, my racing mind, my restless legs.  Not a good combination.  The pills worked and put me to sleep within the hour, but I physically could not extricate myself from bed until Nate called around 11 this morning, wanting to know when we could get together to process our negatives together.

Third time was the charm: I loaded the film properly, reshot the roll, and removed it without any problems.  Me and Nate are the perfect dark room duo; he can open the film cannisters (I can’t) and I can cut a straight line in the negatives in the dark (he can’t).  My roll turned out; I’ll go pick it up tomorrow, and we’ll start developing in class on Wednesday.

Slept more in the afternoon because I just couldn’t keep my eyes open and now, go figure, it’s 9pm and I’m wired.  I’ll probably be up until 4 again, but I’m desperate to not get into this really bad sleep cycle.  Next week I have work and classes and forensics; I can’t afford to sleep all day and be up all night.

Well, break is almost over.  I’m going to go eat my blueberries (I feel like all I’ve done is eat all day) and then get back to forensicating.  Step by step!