Tuesday, May 23, 2006
How The I Love Stopped to Worrying Learned and BOMB
Or
Sonya's Little Obsessions, No. 5-41213A6 25B
Some people have an addictive personality. Some people are intoxicatingly charming or hypnotic (a la Charles Manson). Others are wantonly stupid. Each to his or her own. I happen to have a fascinating accumulation of things that I adore and become very attached to. And some potent little peeves.
The Books are my latest obsession. I have been trying think of something to call their genre. Some music sites have them listed as "Folk" or "Alt. Folk", but both are woefully inadequate and misleading. My best ideas so far have been "Found Sound Folk Opera" and/or "The World all mixed up and taken out of context". Take them for what you will. And buy their cds! They are fantasmic and creative. Imagine if someone turned all your memories into fruits and veggies, then diced them into medium-small bits via the food processor, and made a salsa seasoned with some finely ground guitar melodies that have a tendancy to clump unevenly. Like pepper in a glass of water. You would have something strange and delicious -- and totally unlike just eating a mango with bell pepper.
Also, I was out with a few people the night before the night before last. We went to a bar, a club; standard fare in a place without much of a nightlife. Not my scene but hey, no one else was doing anything and I get along alright with the people. But that isn't the point. I was driving with three people in my car. Lets call them Guido Squidigger, Waldorf "Wally" McFarland Snootyville II, and Winona McWaldorfssister. I like Guido just fine, and Winona is very nice even though I don't have a lot in common with her, but Wally makes me waver between murderous and ashamed. He is apallingly mean and crude, but he is sometimes so desperate and gullible as well. It's terribly sad/pitiful when it isn't making me want to use a machete and a pike on him.
But back to the story. We were driving back from our night of blah revels and had stopped for some food. The bags were sitting at Wally's feet, and he decided to roll down the window and toss the trash out onto the street. I saw him look at me just before he did it. He most likely knew that it was not something that I would approve of since I have a bit of a reputation as a treehugger anyhow. As he let it drop I exclaimed "Wally!"
Wally: "*laughs* What?"
Sonya: "What did you Just do? Why did you DO that??" I only have a mildly raised voice, though thoroughly shocked and irritated.
Wally: "What?!" He begins to suspect that I am growing angry, and he cannot decide if it is safe to be amused and cocky.
Sonya: "You just littered! You threw trash out the window of my car!" Car slows, and stops.
Wally: "Oh my God, Sonya stop it. What are you doing? I'm not going to pick it up."
Sonya: "I'm going to go back and get it." I make an attempt at a three point turn, greatly aided by the lack of vegetation on either side of the road.
Wally: "I'm not picking it up... What are you doing, I'm not going to pick it up!"
Sonya: "I don't care, I'm going to pick it up!" I am thoroughly pissed.
Wally: "What if a car comes? You're in the road! You're going to get out of the car? What about traffic?" He's weirded out. And possibly embarassed at being called on his littering.
Sonya: "They will just have to Go. Around. Me." I've parked facing the wrong way on the wrong side of the road. I take the keys so that no funny business goes on, and leave the door open.
Wally: "Get in the car Sonya, stop it!" He is: Freaked. Nervous. Embarassed. And he's trying to stay cool.
Sonya: "No, this is disgusting and I'm not going to be the kind of person who would leave it here." I pick up the bag and cup, but don't scrounge for napkins and assorted things that may have rolled out. I'm trying to maintain an angry dignity. I get back in the car, Wally takes back his trash.
Wally: "I can't believe you did that. I clean my car out through the window all the time!"
Sonya: "Then you are a disgusting american pig. That is revolting." I'm ashamed that the insult is not more unique.
Wally was somewhat abashed, and said that he was totally going to tell people at work because that was crazy and hilarious. I think he is ashamed to have been called on it though, because it has been a few days and no one seems to have heard anything. Usually any good stories are out in under 24 hours. I told a few people and they were all on my side. Technically. I don't know how many would have actually turned the car around. All-in-all, I'm quite proud of myself. At least now that I'm over being incredibly pissed. -- G 'Bye, Sonya -- . ( 23.5.06 ) .
Or
Sonya's Little Obsessions, No. 5-41213A6 25B
Some people have an addictive personality. Some people are intoxicatingly charming or hypnotic (a la Charles Manson). Others are wantonly stupid. Each to his or her own. I happen to have a fascinating accumulation of things that I adore and become very attached to. And some potent little peeves.
The Books are my latest obsession. I have been trying think of something to call their genre. Some music sites have them listed as "Folk" or "Alt. Folk", but both are woefully inadequate and misleading. My best ideas so far have been "Found Sound Folk Opera" and/or "The World all mixed up and taken out of context". Take them for what you will. And buy their cds! They are fantasmic and creative. Imagine if someone turned all your memories into fruits and veggies, then diced them into medium-small bits via the food processor, and made a salsa seasoned with some finely ground guitar melodies that have a tendancy to clump unevenly. Like pepper in a glass of water. You would have something strange and delicious -- and totally unlike just eating a mango with bell pepper.
Also, I was out with a few people the night before the night before last. We went to a bar, a club; standard fare in a place without much of a nightlife. Not my scene but hey, no one else was doing anything and I get along alright with the people. But that isn't the point. I was driving with three people in my car. Lets call them Guido Squidigger, Waldorf "Wally" McFarland Snootyville II, and Winona McWaldorfssister. I like Guido just fine, and Winona is very nice even though I don't have a lot in common with her, but Wally makes me waver between murderous and ashamed. He is apallingly mean and crude, but he is sometimes so desperate and gullible as well. It's terribly sad/pitiful when it isn't making me want to use a machete and a pike on him.
But back to the story. We were driving back from our night of blah revels and had stopped for some food. The bags were sitting at Wally's feet, and he decided to roll down the window and toss the trash out onto the street. I saw him look at me just before he did it. He most likely knew that it was not something that I would approve of since I have a bit of a reputation as a treehugger anyhow. As he let it drop I exclaimed "Wally!"
Wally: "*laughs* What?"
Sonya: "What did you Just do? Why did you DO that??" I only have a mildly raised voice, though thoroughly shocked and irritated.
Wally: "What?!" He begins to suspect that I am growing angry, and he cannot decide if it is safe to be amused and cocky.
Sonya: "You just littered! You threw trash out the window of my car!" Car slows, and stops.
Wally: "Oh my God, Sonya stop it. What are you doing? I'm not going to pick it up."
Sonya: "I'm going to go back and get it." I make an attempt at a three point turn, greatly aided by the lack of vegetation on either side of the road.
Wally: "I'm not picking it up... What are you doing, I'm not going to pick it up!"
Sonya: "I don't care, I'm going to pick it up!" I am thoroughly pissed.
Wally: "What if a car comes? You're in the road! You're going to get out of the car? What about traffic?" He's weirded out. And possibly embarassed at being called on his littering.
Sonya: "They will just have to Go. Around. Me." I've parked facing the wrong way on the wrong side of the road. I take the keys so that no funny business goes on, and leave the door open.
Wally: "Get in the car Sonya, stop it!" He is: Freaked. Nervous. Embarassed. And he's trying to stay cool.
Sonya: "No, this is disgusting and I'm not going to be the kind of person who would leave it here." I pick up the bag and cup, but don't scrounge for napkins and assorted things that may have rolled out. I'm trying to maintain an angry dignity. I get back in the car, Wally takes back his trash.
Wally: "I can't believe you did that. I clean my car out through the window all the time!"
Sonya: "Then you are a disgusting american pig. That is revolting." I'm ashamed that the insult is not more unique.
Wally was somewhat abashed, and said that he was totally going to tell people at work because that was crazy and hilarious. I think he is ashamed to have been called on it though, because it has been a few days and no one seems to have heard anything. Usually any good stories are out in under 24 hours. I told a few people and they were all on my side. Technically. I don't know how many would have actually turned the car around. All-in-all, I'm quite proud of myself. At least now that I'm over being incredibly pissed. -- G 'Bye, Sonya -- . ( 23.5.06 ) .