Weekend with my Dada

It's nearly another weekend, which will surely be eventful as well as the last, but I wanted to share the adventures I had with my dad last weekend before they are swept away by the evil forgetfulness that plagues me.

So my dad was visiting last weekend, which I was excited about but hadn't really had time to plan anything for. So he got here in the middle of the day on Thursday, and I was able to leave from work early and then had taken the day off Friday.

We went back to my apartment, settled in a bit and looked for a place to eat. Looking around, there were several places in my awesome new neighborhood, but I happened upon Caracas, of which there is also a location that I'd been to in the East Village and immediately was thrilled about finding it and eating there. Immediately. They are a Venezuelan restaurant that has arepas (which are fried corn stuffed with deliciousness). So we went there, and it truly was amazing.

Friday we decided to head down to Downtown Brooklyn and ended up at the Transit Museum, which was remarkably awesome and fascinating. Plus you get to go into all the old cars!! Definitely one of the coolest museum experiences I've had in New York. We found a cheap but delicious Mediterranean place and then went to get some ice cream by Brooklyn Bridge Park, and sat in the park as the sun set, talking into the night and counting trains pass with the incredible, fantastic view of both the city and the Brooklyn Bridge. It was pretty magical. We got back to my neighborhood and ventured to Barcade (where they have tons of arcade games and lots of local beer, along with hordes of young people) to say goodbye to my dear friend, Ryan, who left to begin grad school in Nashville. I was quite proud of my dad for being so adventurous, as he was really by far the oldest person there.

Saturday, we actually made it out of Brooklyn. We woke up late and went into the city to check out the Museum of Art and Design, which was interesting and cool, but I was exhausted. Definitely the most visit-worthy part was the exhibit with pieces all made out of feathers, dead bees, dandelion seeds glued to LEDs, etc. That was pretty stellar. The rest was interesting, but for some reason I wasn't really drawn in. They also had huge touch screens where you could see all the pieces they had as a part of their permanent collection, and that was at least a pretty cool idea.

Then we went to see The Secret in their Eyes, a Spanish film that was one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. Artful, but also entertaining, riveting and appropriately distracting. Then, however, we made a terrible mistake. We went to Coney Island at night.

I had been to Coney Island before, but only in the day, and one of the times, I was mostly at Brighton Beach, which is just down the beach, and just walked through Coney Island. Another time, it was a concert. So I guess I hadn't really been to Coney Island. But it (I found out later) is one of the most dangerous areas in Brooklyn. Good job, Shannon, for taking your dad to the most dangerous area in Brooklyn. But whatever. We did end up surviving, despite seeing a fight (not physical) wherein a dude couldn't keep his shorts up and flashed us, as well as a woman, who appeared inebriated, be arrested. Without a doubt, it was an experience. Just not one I want to re-live.

Sunday, we decided to hang out in the morning, just around the apartment, and get some brunch. We went to a place down the street that was french, Le Barricou, which was delicious. And then we went to BargeMusic, chamber music on a barge. Quite cool. It's right by where we were Friday, the Brooklyn Bridge park. It's definitely one of my new favorite areas--beautiful and some cute restaurants.

Then Monday, dad left and I had to go to work. All in all an adventurous weekend. This weekend, I get another 3-day weekend, again with a friend, Matt. Fireworks from the roof! That's pretty much our only plan. Should be fun.

A-holes

So here's a fun story. And a true one. This morning I was walking into work, which I generally do with headphones in, this morning listening to an audio-book of "Game Change," which is about the 2008 elections (lots of fun, btw), so I was particularly engrossed, and as I'm about to turn into the building, these two dudes point behind me, like I've dropped something. So I look behind me, nothing there. I turn back to them and they're insistently pointing. I take out my earbud and ask what they're talking about. One of them says they lost their heart right there (where they're pointing). At which point I roll my eyes and purse my lips, continue walking and feel like an idiot. Has New York taught me nothing??! Haha.

But, really, I've had a couple incidents recently of guys really dumbly hitting on me, this being one of them, and the other with a woman I'm doing economic surveys with. We were in Queens last weekend, and this group of guys was taking advantage of our openness to communication because of the survey. And so we talked a bit about why men in Latino countries (particularly, though really this could apply anywhere, in any culture) when they know it won't get them anything tangible (specifically, they won't get laid because they call me "Mami" or mention how sexy I am on the street). And I mentioned to her that I thought it was actually way more about intimidation and control. And I realized that's so true. (I agree with myself!!) but really. True and upsetting. There's no real advantage to cat-calling, except for the very real boost of feeling momentarily more powerful than the woman you've just (hopefully?) intimidated. And this is when I realize that (I know I'm about to walk off a feminist cliff, but bare with me) this is a component of rape culture. Because, as anyone who knows anything about rape knows, rape is about power and control, not sex. Sounding familiar??

I am super disturbed by this, and also frustrated about how to react. If I ignore these dumb people, I feel like maybe that helps a little. If I have any real kind of reaction, that seems to just reinforce the behavior, even if the reaction is rude or mean. Part of me wants to intimidate THEM, but really that, too, isn't helpful, because the whole thing comes from a place of feeling powerless (I think) themselves, so I actually don't want to do anything to exacerbate that feeling.

Maybe there's nothing I can do. Maybe I should talk to them like normal human beings, so that they can see that I, too, am a normal human being. That I can have a conversation and am not merely an object in their game to halt their own insecurity. Anyway. Ranty, yes. But something that's been on my mind.

The Cross-City Move

I haven't written for quite some time, but I really have an excellent reason this time--last week, I moved both my office and my apartment. It was totally overwhelming. I'm exhausted (less so after the weekend, which was fairly restful).

I was, as you know if you've been keeping up with things on here, psyched about the move from Washington Heights, ghetto of Manhattan, to Williamsburg, hipsterville central of the US of A and Brooklyn. I am loving living in a neighborhood with so many restaurants and that is so close to pretty much everything. Yay L train!! And Brooklyn is kind of awesome. More laid-back than Manhattan, but still New York City. And my new apartment is so nice...!

I took a trip to Ikea on Friday afternoon because I was so anxious to have a sturdier bed than my airmatress (I moved in with no furniture, save for a hanging thing for clothes, since the room has no closet). But I quickly realized that I needed some help. Just another person. And though that irks my independent streak, it's just the truth. So I went home, a bit dejected and realizing that I would need some more planning.

I thought about going on Saturday, but had no one to help me. So I went to my friend, Ryan's, play, written by kids who stutter in an organization he's been working with for about a year. Another mutual friend was in town with a friend of his, so we all went. Lots of fun. At least, kind of interesting. I don't think I've ever really been around anyone who stutters, it was sort of wild to see so many kids in on place who all stutter. But it seems like really an awesome organization, giving a voice to kids who don't have one.

I was also busy last week with packing, moving, then going to a lesson on financial literacy for immigrants for a project I'm working with that's surveying Mexican immigrants to try and develop a microinsurance for them. It was also pretty cool, and exposure into this world of finance that I am really interested in, but haven't gotten much experience in. And research is research is research. That's the lesson I've learned. It's also great for my Spanish (though exhausting).

Oh AND I house-sat for my friend, Molly, and her husband in Queens last weekend. So really, things have been a bit insane. The office move is also a frustrating, as opposed to exciting, one. It's been confusing and frustrating and a move from an annex with a really different culture to the main building where the actual clinic is, and the culture is a bit more...restrictive.

Anyway, I did finally make it to Ikea on Sunday with my friend, Emma, where I purchased my first bed! And a dresser and desk. I excitedly began putting together the bed, though the excitement quickly turned to weariness, but I made it through and put together a more or less sturdy bed, all by myself! I also put together the "desk" (really just a table), and the dresser will have to wait until I can manage a screwdriver again. I also got some shelves and dark stain, which should be a fun project. Overall, I've actually had quite a fun time figuring out how to put all this together and making myself a cute little home all my own. Anyway, that's the update for now! Should be more updates and excitement soon--my dad's coming to visit this weekend, which I'm pretty excited about. So fun times!

Incongruence

I got in a disagreement with a coworker yesterday. It was really stupid (the disagreement), but it was one more straw on a stack that's building. And I wanted to lessen that, but instead I added my own stack.

I have been frustrated before about the sociological implications of my job, and my having more social power but not any more technical power in the work place. Maybe not articulated exactly that way, but that's how I see if now. But this truly takes the cake, AND I think I didn't realize how unaligned my view of the world is with several of the folks I work with. Now, we have several Case Managers (6?), several of whom I get along quite well with, at least I think. But there are two with whom I have seen more potential for difficulty--I'll call them R and C. Both of these women fall into the categories of black women who are former drug users, have cleaned up and gotten Bachelor's degrees, and a great union job. There is one other coworker who fits into this category (we'll call her B). But for whatever reason, I have seen R and C are much more intimidated?

So I have had not really any difficulty with C (though she can be frustrating to deal with), perhaps because I have skated around her as though I could see the ice cracking already. But I felt more comfortable with R from the beginning, which I think ironically made things more dangerous. Once EMR began and everyone started asking me questions about computers ALL THE TIME (not complaining, just noting), she would call me and I would answer, "What?" because I wanted people to get to the point. Not the most professional, I realize, but actually I think it was an attempt to communicate like my coworkers (in a joking way), just the way I interpreted it. Which was not appreciated. She informed me; I have not since answered any of her phone calls or yelling out from her desk with, "What?"

Then a few months ago, all of our supervisors were gone except for a very high-up supervisor, and I made the mistake? of telling him what I wad doing. R told me that he doesn't need to be involved in our business, that we do our own thing and keep to ourselves. Which, to me, is bizarre. I come from the assumption that authority is here to protect us, to make sure everything that needs to get done, does. Which really is what all this boils down to. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So yesterday R comes over to me and asks in a very flustered manner what we were supposed to be doing with a particular list. I had created a set of directions to do what needed to be done (which she didn't actually know), but before I told her that, I did not want her to be mad. I mean, she can be mad, but I didn't want to be talking to someone who was so flustered, even as it was not directed towards me. So I made a huge mistake. Huge. And also very preventable, had I taken two seconds to think about it, and reacted to her as a person unlike me. But no, I told her to take a breath. Bad move. Did I make that clear yet??

She told me not to talk to her "like that," to never mind and walked away. Whoops. Now, part of me really wishes I just had never said anything. But I also feel frustrated in not being able to be myself. In not being around people who are self-assured enough to shrug off my telling them to take a breath, or who can take a breath and laugh, or whatever. My intention was not to infer that she did not know how to calm herself down, but that we all need a reminder sometimes. And also that I don't talk to people who are upset. I won't. That is my limit. And I was trying to convey that in as inoffensive way as possible. But I guess it backfired.

So what I realized it that there is just a huge incongruence in how I view authority an how R does. Asking our supervisor to mediate a conversation did not help. Why did I think it would? She spent the conversation telling me she thinks I look down on her (I actually believe "us" was the word used), and that she was concerned about her job because I brought our supervisor in (though the supervisor made quite clear that she was not there in a supervisory nor disciplinary manner). Despite being I a union. Despite having done nothing wrong. Certainly nothing punishment-worthy. Despite my actually asking HER for information about what I could do differently that would help. Despite all that, she felt threatened. And like I think I'm better than her. And that I have power that she does not. And you know what? She's right. Not about my being better than her, but that I have more power. I am affluent, if not in my finances, in my vocabulary, in my demeanor, in my confidence and sense of empowerment. And that all counts for a lot, and goes to show you that poverty is about a hell of a lot more than money. It is disturbing to me that an adult reacted as she did to the entire situation, but I have to remember that she's coming from such a different world. A world where adults and other figures of authority are not to be trusted, and do not have your best intentions in mind.

I am so lucky to not be from that world. But I'm living in it right now, and talk about culture shock, in truly the most depressing way possible. It is a world of no hope, and distrust of but unavoidable reliance upon authority figures. Fear, uncertainty and doubt. This is America, dystopia-style.

Life Updating

I've been a bit shallow on the life updates, and for that I apologize. It boils down to this--I have no idea what I'm doing, though I have quite a few options cooking, I just don't want to put them into a possibly-public arena. So you'll just have to find out from me directly :).

Here's what I will tell you: I'm moving to Brooklyn a week from tomorrow (yaaay!!) and if you couldn't tell, I'm pretty excited. The packing prospect is scaring the crap out of me though. I'm hoping I'll survive. Probably I will. The ridiculous part is that I don't even have much to move. But it just feels like a lot. And such a hassle. Blech. I'm hoping my excitement about moving to Williamsburg will carry me through. I'll also add that work has been a tad more fulfilling--I really felt like I helped a patient today, which was kind of awesome.

I do promise that once there are firm plans, I'll have major updates since I'll know exactly what I'll be doing (probably) in the next year or so. For now, limbo. Oh, what fun!

This would be my Facebook status if it weren't so long

Another New York City story. This one is kind of sad.

This morning was way busy at work (yay!), and I ended up going to the pharmacy with a client to get his medications. Well, we're in the Rite Aid, and as the pharmacist is explaining that the client will actually have to pay for one of the things, and it will cost maybe $4-6, he is saying he doesn't have $5, which is pathetic but probably true (at least sort of, like, at least not $5 to spare), and this older woman at the same moment is getting her reciept while picking up her prescription, and notes that the reciept is extremely long and what a waste of paper that is (wait until she looks at the printed information that you get with EVERY REFILL. Talk about wasted paper). But I was just so struck by the contrasted concerns--my patient upset because Medicaid won't pay $5 for something, and this woman totally distressed that the Rite Aid was wasting so much paper. Perfectly New York.

It's definitely sad. And also hilariously demonstrative of how effed up our country is. How much we waste and yet, can only help people a small bit. I also should note that today alone I had two patients say they think AIDS is a conspiracy by "them" to kill black people or make money by not using the cure that he was convinced they already have developed.

Sometimes I think I'm really naive. I totally give people the benefit of the doubt; assume they are logical. But actually, most people don't understand much about the world. Probably myself included. I try and explain to people that no one is actually out to get them. They probably don't believe me. Or, worse, think I'm "them." Not that I approve of how the world is or works. But the feeling and effects of dis-empowerment is quite striking.

SATC 2

Yesterday was my birthday, and the lovely Molly, for whom I am housesitting and who is generously and amazingly helping me move with the loaning of her husband and truck, took me to see Sex and the City 2. I had no idea Molly was into SATC, mostly because we've shared lots of our feminist ideals, and SATC has become less and less really feminist. But we went into it knowing it had awful reviews and would be terrifically horrible. We had no idea.

The main takeaway for me was that it could have been so good!! There were a few scenes that were actually quite touching and insightful--into the characters, into our society. And then there was all this random shit that happened. As if the producers went (Molly's words), "You know what, folks? This movie is going to make a butt-load, no matter what it is about. So let's make a list of things that would be cool to include, and we'll draw some out of a hat and just throw those in. Wouldn't that be fun??" The most awful part was a scene where the women do karaoke together--they sing "I Am Woman," which is not upbeat nor popular in the last 30 years. And just kind of dumb. What made it most tragic was the possibility--it could have been "I Will Survive" or something. Which is awesome and empowering, maybe not the right lyrics, but really fun. I'm sure they could've thought of something else. So that was frustrating.

It was also just really obnoxiously ostentatious to a completely unnecessary degree. And Carrie was way annoying, more-so than in the show or the first movie. And just generally all the complaints were so ridiculous. Their lives are all without any financial worries, and they can't figure out ways to make their live mean something? Just kind of stupid. Anyway, I'm still glad I saw it, if only for nostalgia.

Upper West Side

The Upper West Side is a funny place. My blogger app on the iPhone just deleted everything I wrote in the past 15 minutes. Awesome. I'll summarize--the UWS has lots of families, including mothers of infants and nannies of young children, all of whom gather at the new Whole Foods. Which is also where I eat lunch every day. I'm working on this. I brought my own lunch two days this week. Yay! Accomplishment! But it is still hard for me to stay away. It is too easy to just say, I'll go there. Though as it's warmer, I think I'll try to get to Central Park more often. So some of it is paying for a place to sit.

Anyhow, it is also an interesting (if sometimes obnoxious) place to people-watch. There are lots of children, and then their caretakers, who, as mentioned previously, are anything from new, young hip moms to nannies. The nannies are nearly always minorities, often older, always women. Sometimes there are families. It is always incredible how many people, in the middle of the day, are hanging out at Whole Foods. So. Many. Do these people not have jobs, I wonder? How? Can I do what they're doing? Obvs there are lots of folks on their lunch breaks. Recently, they've been census workers. Also lots of construction workers (there's a huge construction project going on all around). There are also often people sitting on laptops (mostly macs), engaging in some level of work. I want their jobs. But anyway. Today these few things collided in a new type of person. The parent who brings their kid to Whole Food to do work.

Before describing this woman, I should mention that New York City has a wide variety of dress styles. People can dress pretty slouchy and go unnoticed, more or less. There are just so many people. And no one cares. But this woman took slouchy to a whole new level. It looked not like she'd just rolled out of bed but that she'd been wearing the same outfit for a few days, probably not having showered for that whole time. I should mention she was white, as are many of the Whole Foods frequenters. And there was something very hippy about her--it was more intentional than accident that she seemed so unkempt. I can't put my finger on why I assume this. And maybe I'm wrong. But she had a computer. And a nice stroller. And she was white, quite honestly, and also in good shape (not overweight). Probably wearing sandals. Luke Chacos or something. I can't remember, but I wouldn't be surprised. Anyhow, when I first sat down, I saw a little blond child exploring the seat next to me where a young woman, maybe even in her late teens, sat, shooting me frequent uncomfortable glances, arms intentionally kept close to her body. She made sure not to give the child any encouragement, clearly not thrilled he was imposing on her space. It took me a bit, regardless, of observing the two of them interact to realize they were not together; he, oblivious to her very adult (or adolescent) body language saying, "uh, what?! are you doing here..."; she, unsure how to react to someone so inattentive to his or her child that they didn't notice her clear discomfort. Mostly it took time because there was no other adult anywere nearby who the child did seem attached to. Until the disheveled woman approached and nonchalantly noted, "if he gets annoying, just give me a wave, " before returning to the world of some networked world via her laptop, five tables over.

Cue look in my direction of severe discomfort.

I shrugged. Gave a look of uncertainty. What IS the ettiquite for people who disregard their children, at your expense?but the child wasn't bothering me. If he were, I'd be assertive, take his little hand and walk him back over to his mommy. The little boy grabbed the SmartWater bottle on the table. Uncomfortable young woman is finally motivated to do something besides give looks of alarm. She takes the bottle from him.

He left after a few minutes, toddled over to the trash cans and cleaning chemical cupboard (really. I come here every day) and began pulling down the sign, "This is NOT a trash can," that everyone disregards. In his defense, he did figure out how to put it back, placing the Velcro parts together. I guess someone has taught him to be responsible. More evidence to the intentionality of his mother's harried dress.

It was at this point I noticed that said child looked in line with his mother. Though to top off his severe bed-head, he wore a cloth diaper, or hippie-underwear, over his clothes. Which, really, is just kind of icky. It was probably clean. But still. Odd. Mom finished up whatever she was working on. The super-uncomfortable victim of the child's innocence and naivete of social norms left. All was well.

But the incident really does make me think about children, culture, acceptable behavior. The mother obviously was not paying attention to how her child was affecting others. And I don't think you should be paranoid about that, which is all too easy to do, but, really. It was so blatant how freaked out the young woman sitting next to me was, and the feeling I got from the mother's comment was that she wanted to feel like she'd offered an out, when really she just didn't want to watch her child.

I do think the young woman disturbed by the child's presence bears some responsibility in speaking up, or explaining to the child that hanging out in someone else's space (or, at least, HER space) is not really acceptable. Obviously there was a line, with him grabbing her water bottle, but she was clearly uncomfortable before that. And she could have told the mother that she was really not okay with the kid being all up in her grill, probably especially since his mom didn't seem to be really paying attention to him. When I have been in that position, I have felt responsible--like if the kid did something dangerous, I would need to tell them to stop. Which is part of why I would bring the kid over to its parent. Or at least talk to him or her (the child).

But I found it to be an interesting dilemma. Also that it's totally inappropriate to bring your child to Whole Foods to do work and behave as though you are in your own home, where other people who may or may not be made to feel uncomfortable by your child's presence and your inattentiveness. Or maybe I'm being too paranoid, and not letting others just be responsible for themselves, and know where their lines are and how to draw them.

End of May

Tomorrow is my birthday. I have one remaining year before I have completed a quarter century on this earth, a teeny tiny blip in the scheme of things. But I am feeling particularly aged. Not old, exactly, but definitely more adult. I can't avoid the fact that I am an adult any longer. I just am. And somewhere along the way, I did begin to feel more adult. This is dull, I realize. But you know what? That's kind of being an adult. It's pretty boring. Which is a whole lot better than it being really stressful or sad or overwhelming. So for now, I'm actually extremely grateful for the mundane. For things being boring. For boring being the biggest problem I have. That's a really awesome problem to have. And I still hope I'm not always bored. But for now, it's better than a lot of the alternatives, and I really do have so much to be thankful for.

Now onto work on those things that need some shaking up! Here's to another adventurous, bewildering, scary year in my life. This one has brought a world I couldn't have imagined. One that is surprisingly stable, despite my efforts. And next year, hopefully by this time I'll be on the shores of a foreign land, relaxing with a delicious drink of some exotic kind and staring into the great abyss of the Atlantic or Pacific. Doesn't matter which. Maybe I'll be by myself. Maybe someone will have come to visit and share the celebration of a completion of 25 years...who knows. But I damn well will not be here. And really, I mean this in the most hopeful, not depressing, way--that's what keeps me going. Knowing that soon, things will be different.

Ok so I'm still bored at work. That's pretty much the end of that thought process. But I really have been doing a lot of reflecting on my life. Introspection. Hah, I realize, I'm always doing that. I'm kinda known for it. But I've been a bit more deliberate about it recently. Working out the problems of what, exactly, it is I do not like about my job, the position in my life, etc. And being really self-centered in a way I've never been, never let myself be, before. Not really listening to what other people think, or certainly not nearly as much as I usually have in the past. One of the bigger realizations I've had is about extremes. I kind of gave up on music because I assumed I wouldn't make it professionally (probably rightly so), but I am recognizing that (duh) just because I don't do it professionally does not in any way limit my ability or the need, really, for me to sing and play guitar in my free time; I can even spend money on it. It's still worth it, because it makes me feel that much better. And I don't think I have ever really recognized that. At least not about music. Actually reminds me of Glee from last week, the one with Neal Patrick Harris, who is out to get arts programs because he feels like they lead him on, and made him erroneously believe he could succeed as a star. Anyway, I saw that and kind of recognized my own thought process, obviously a hyperbolistic version, but it helped me recognize how ridiculous what I was thinking was. And I'd been coming to that conclusion already, but it highlighted it.

Crazy-*ss Dreams

I must be freaked out about something, because I had some vivid and just...weird...dreams last night. Though I think I should explain that my "weird" dreams are always really realistic, and that's why they're weird. Like, I had a dermatology appointment today, and I dreamed that I was at the dermatologist's office, and they told me I had high cholesterol (which isn't really quite as strange as it sounds because that was, in fact, a test they had run. Though it was not, in fact, high). So, I have very realistic dreams, but I think that makes them emotionally more difficult to detach from. Maybe other peoples' unrealistic dreams are also difficult to attach from. I guess who am I to judge, but I also dreamed about friends from high school, just like, hanging out with them. It just always sort of throws me off when I have those dreams. And they feel so real. And they COULD be. But then they're not. It's strange. Anyway, it kind of threw me off pretty much for the whole day. And I was uberbored at work. Not that that's strange. Ok, really that's all for now. Sort of a lame update. On par with my life.