Unforseen benefit

They don't advertise this in the catalogue, but it turns out that now that I'm in grad school I have much more erudite insomnia. Whereas before, sleeplessness mostly inspired thoughts about how nice it would be to be asleep, now I apparently contemplate Voltaire and the Enlightenment. For hours. I still feel like someone marinated my eyes in sand and vinegar all night, but see? I'm also quite fancy.

Street Fair

Pretty much every weekend one neighborhood or another is hosting a street fair. This weekend it's mine. As these things go, ours is pretty modest: two blocks, miscellaneous artisans, one bounce house, one historic firetruck, one music stage, and a mere two food booths. The first one is selling pizza and the second, according to their large sign, is selling TACOS. There is a small posted menu listing agua frescas and the varieties of tacos available. First on the list: Duck Confit.

Welcome to San Francisco.

*********


One woman is selling a line of handmade cards called GirlyWhirly. The vast majority of them feature a simple sketch of a completely ecstatic stick figure girl--she is singing, or dancing, or skipping though daisies, happy as can be. Then, on the corner of the table I see a smaller assortment of cards with the same girl, but with scowly eyebrows and big angry black scribbles over her head. You don't want to mess with this girl; she is NOT happy. I laugh when I see it and say, "So it's not all sunshine and smiles in your world?" The artist replies, "Oh no, that's me too. That's Surly Girly."

Best. Sign. Ever.

In the unisex restroom of a neighborhood Thai restaurant last night, I had the great good fortune to encounter an instructive sign.

It was very neatly printed on a scallop-edged paper placemat. Two colors of marking pen had been used to create an eye-catching shadow effect. The completed masterpiece was hung directly over the toilet. It read:

Please do not flush
any such down toilet.
Thank you


"Do not" was double underlined. They were serious.

I'm afraid that in the end, I was obliged to flush some such down the toilet, but I think (although obviously I'm just guessing here) it was appropriate such.

Shhhhhh

Hey. Do you remember The Horse Whisperer? Wherein Robert Redford calmed a dangerous horse by whispering ever so quietly in the equine ear? In the special language of horses? Thereby restoring in the horse a sense of well being and safety such that the distasteful behavior no longer need be exhibited?

Yeah. I remember that too. Which is exactly why I was so horrified when I found a brochure for a program called "teen whispering"(TM) in the mail at work. Teen whispering is apparently "a training system for speaking 'teen'" which allows one to "Get through! With skill, peace, and impact!"

Thank god. At last a way to gentle the skittish teen without resorting to repeated beatings. This will really change the way we do things around the ol' high school.

Subjugation of all mankind

I know, I know. Things were going so well for a while there. There were all those stories about bocce ball and all, then I disappeared. Again. Why? Whatever could have happened? I'll tell you. Grad school, that's what happened. Lordy. So far I've had one week of my two year program and it seems that I've forgotten how to be smart and yet I am suddenly oh-heck-up-to-my-neck in homework. So, best of luck to me on that.

When discussing this with some young friends of mine, one asked what the degree would be. "It's a Masters in Humanities," I said, "so basically it won't particularly qualify me to do anything."

"What are you saying?" said Susanna. "You'll be more than qualified. You'll be the Master of humanity."

Ah ha! I hadn't thought of that. In two short years, you will all bend to my will.