Back to Asheville............

Just for e weekend............... I went to see my friend Luciana whom I have not seeing in months. It was great. We talked until one in the morning and still have lots to talk next time we see each other which I am hoping, will be soon.

We went to an Asian restaurant for dinner where the food is delicious with Julia and a friend who look just like Barbie, and yes just as dumb. She is really nice though. Ashevile has grown in the 12 years we moved from there. Downtown has really expended and has lots of bars and restaurnats. Very artsy as usual but with a bit more to do. Still, I would not want to go back and live there. Greenville has a different energy that suits us so much more. Asheville is still too quiet for me.

I am glad I have Luciana living there because it gives me a chance to go back and enjoy what the city has to offer.

Call of Duty

So, I am a mother and a mother is usually over protective and over concerned and over the top, etc.............. Victor , who is 15 and a half (if I forget the half he gets upset) is playing quite a bit of Call of Duty, a horrible bloody game with lots of shooting. I hate this type of games because they are violent and I am not really sure how much of this he internalizes. Does he differentiates between real and virtual? He gets extremely upset when he looses, as if his very existence depends on him winning. All I hear is him screaming "are you kidding me?" or 'That's a lie". I don't see him enjoying the strategy of the game, if there is one.............. On top of that, Victor has a temper which has gotten much better of the years but is very much there.

3 years ago I prohibit him to play Grand Theft Auto LA because I saw a scene of a person kicking another person while he was on the ground, not to mention the language. He got that as a present and I got rid of it. I told him, no Mature games. Now he is playing COD, another M game and I am not sure what to make of it. He is 15 and impressionable. I don't worry about these games being Milli-tainment as much because he has no tendencies to enlist but I do worry about the violence.

Everything is a battle with him, of course being a teen and boy and temperamental, we are always on a heated discussion about something. Right now we are arguing over the fact that he is getting his license but I am not letting him drive by himself across town to school. On that one, I am firm and have no doubts. On the game thing, I am not sure which way to go. Let him play or take away from him. Any takers?

#$%@#$#!!!!!

I finally sat down today and figured out what I have to do to get a driver's license. (With a list of forms and everything!) Go me? I have to get a learner's permit and then take the driving test, but at least this time I don't have to wait 6 months. woop de-friggin'-doo? eh.

The first week of school turned out to be disappointing. I forgot how much below my level of education CCAC is. I should stop expecting them to do things like.... well, think. At least I like the material for all my classes, and I'm 99% sure I'm getting straight A's.

On the bright side, I will still have a couple hundred dollars left over after buying books! huzzah!

Even better, we had a lasagna party yesterday. I made the lasagna with fresh pasta made by my roommate, Tuttle. Everyone loved it. :D We have no leftovers. D: But! We have plenty of fresh angel hair pasta for tonight because Tuttle made too much pasta last night! :D

Life is still good; I'm just irritated.

Where have you been?!?

Where HAVE I been! Where have I been?

I've been stuck in the suburbs (Rachel's parents' house) for two days puppy-sitting a chocolate lab that isn't house trained. I hate dogs. I hate suburbia. But now I am back!

More importantly, school has started. three of my classes started this week: English composition 2 (comp2), the Anthropology of Globalization (Anthro), and History of the World's Religions (Relig). In two weeks I start History of Modern Art (art), and Intro to Theater. ...or so THEY think!

I wanted to sign up for a literature course. Because comp2 is the prerequisite for a proper literature course, that would mean waiting or talking to a teacher. So, I signed up for theater because it counts toward my literature requirement in case this crazy plan doesn't work, and it gives me time to find a better course.

I forgot how dumb the people at CCAC are. eh.

These boots were made for... kung fu?

Julian had his birthday party last night. Because his roommate is moving, there are boxes all over his apartment and almost no floorspace, so he had it in our apartment. Fortunately, all of Julian's friends are people who would rather drink gin and tonics and discuss whether or not J.K. Rowling is racist or not than to drink beer and get rowdy. Therefore, it was a lovely party and my apartment is not in shambles, though there is an unusually large collection of sparkling water bottles on the kitchen table.

I also got to be useful in a way I've never been useful before! One of the guests, Toph, said he was interested in studying neo-paganism but didn't know where to start. So I actually managed to give him good advice: learn to meditate, read books about mythology, gather basic altar supplies, and don't trust the internet. :D Hoorah for being useful!

Final piece of news: our third roomie has moved in! Tuttle is a CMU student with long, frizzy blond hair. He's a nice guy, but a little overenthusiastic sometimes. Google is probably hiring him; he start working there next summer. He is very exited about the oversized beanbag he bought for the living room.

The title of the post refers to the discussion Julian, Sara and I got into regarding how vulnerable I feel in heels, and this being caused mostly by my martial arts training me teaching me to stay on my flat feet. They tried to argue that it is possible to learn to fight in heels, and that it doesn't have to present a monstrous disadvantage.

I am still not convinced that this mythic "Stiletto Style" martial art exists. I must find the master of the style, hidden high up in the mountains, and train with her.

Incidentally, Julian looks really good in heels, tight black pants, tight black shirt, gray lace shirt over it, and strange womans' sweater. I wish I had taken a picture.

apparently I'm interesting?

So last night Rachel and I went to a gender-bending burlesque! It was a mere $5. The whole troupe was female bodied but the gender's ranged from transitionless transman to femme lesbian. If that was confusing just don't think about it.

The show was mostly geared toward making people feel better about their strange and diverse identities: fat, girly, man stuck in a woman's body, etc. It was a cute show; I liked it. When we met up with friends at a coffeehouse afterward, we all kinda agreed that (while it was cute and enjoyable) the show wasn't as revolutionary as it wanted to be.

Or maybe we're just too used to queer people.

I live in a city, for real.

So Squirrel Hill, the neighborhood I live in, is very insular. It's mostly Jews, gays, and college students. As a result, I can walk around holding Rachel's hand and kiss her on the street and not worry. It also means that I basically live in a town with all the crazy people and resources that a city provides.

Then, every once in a while, I remember that I live in a city, and that some of the legends are true.

Today, Rachel and I traipsed down to the bookstore in Oakland to grab her books for school. We ate lunch at Panera (Rachel's treat to me!) and grabbed a bus back home. The 61C, which is my favorite bus, goes to Homestead, which is one of Pittsburgh's many stereotypical poor black neighborhoods. Today, there were four or five female residents of the area on the back of the bus, and they were having a conversation.

Holy sh*t. Some black people are really loud. ...and really funny.

In between the conversation they had about welfare sucking and how many babies everyone had, they cracked a lot of good jokes about crazy people on the bus, bus drivers that didn't know what they were doing, claustraphobia... it was great. Rachel and I couldn't stop smiling.

It's also always a little weird to remember that stereotypes come from somewhere.

First post

Hey!

Try number two, guys! I still can't type in Portuguese, but at least everyone can access this blog!

Last night I went to a small party. My friends Julian and Sarah wanted to celebrate their friend Mallory being back in town, even though she was only back for two nights. So we all went to Gene's house and had homemade pizza. Mallory made a delicious white cake with chocolate frosting. (No, really, the frosting had rum and espresso in it. I almost melted. x.x)

After dinner, we all sat around and had caipirinhas. (kinda... we don't make them exactly right. :/) Then everyone started telling stories in British accents, except for Julian, who decided to be contrary and therefore eastern European. Julian told the myth of Aphrodite and Hephaestus, and Sara told the tale of how LoolaGweffeth (no, that is not spelled correctly. f***ing welsh...) got his name and his arms from Arianrhod. (that is spelled correctly. ...f***ing welsh.) Mallory told the old Jewish story of the creation of Lillith's children, which is an older version of the story of Genesis. By then we had to go home, but it was really fun!

Well, really, it's that we had to leave Gene's because she wanted to sleep. Julian and Sara came over to Rachel's and my new apartment for a spell, wherein we played the ukulele and surfed youtube.

Then sleep happened. For real this time.