As you know, I am plagued with uncertainty 80% of the time. Or maybe 90%? Anyway, one of the consequences of such a low level of confidence is an inability of really being able to read people.
Sometimes I'm the person I can't read. One of my least favorite questions I was sometime asked during high school was "so why don't you have a girlfriend?" This was before I was 80-90% certain that I was gay, so dealing with this question was even more peculiar. The question was never mean-spirited; it was more of a curiosity about how someone who is obviously the complete package could be going through life single (I'm paraphrasing...slightly). I think what bothered me more than the fact that I was single was that I couldn't actually answer the "why" question. Well, not at the time.
Fast forward to college and the question shifted from "why don't you have a special someone" to "is he gay or what?" Although I'm sure the conversation happened more than I am aware, since the latter is more of a gossip starter, it really is an awkward situation when someone just asks you point blank. This is where another shift occurs. With the "why single" question, the asker is asking out of concern and seems to come from a place of admiration in that the asker recognizes positive qualities in the person. Not so with the "so, gay?" question, which in my experience has been used as a means to justify or resolve a disconnect between behaviors and social norms or what "straight" is. And the question is of the "do you still beat your wife" variety, in that any denial could just be met with an "mmm-hmm, right". Though it is fun to gobsmack people with an equally blunt "yes" to their question. Good times.
Assuming that I'm still the same complete package I was in high school (work with me on this one), it would seem to follow that I should be getting the "why don't you have a boyfriend?" line of questioning. Well, the difficulties of uncertainty and identity politics, and my need to obsess over them, has rendered my gaydar completely useless for the people I find myself attracted to. It has been driving me crazy recently, as having a "ping" or some sort of confirmation would make life a lot easier right now. Not because the time has been unbearable (it hasn't), but because if there is a next step to take, I would like to do so this decade. And if not, I would like to not be coming across as creepy or whatever (I don't think I am, but again, not good at reading any room I'm in). Without some sort of ping, my only course of action would be to do the "so, gay?" thing which is beyond inappropriate and totally shows my cards. I'm so not going to do that.
So if anyone has a way of calibrating a gaydar that isn't Gay or European?, I'd appreciate the assist.
I know I've been complaining about my job a lot lately. Since mid-July, things have been pretty much non-stop with renovations, new staff, new leagues, and a whole bunch of people asking questions that I'm supposed to know the answers to. Despite all of the stress and hullabaloo, this weekend is a perfect example of what I enjoy about my job.
Today was the first intercollegiate bowling tournament of the season. Typically this event is held at Rebman's up in Lorain, but this year it was moved to Pittsburgh. The last time I was in Pittsburgh for a bowling tournament, things were less than stellar so I approached this weekend with a certain level of skepticism.
Due to the distance, we stayed overnight. Since we didn't leave Oberlin until well after 7pm Friday, no one was really up for extensive partying and many of us turned in relatively early. Somehow even with 4-5 hours of sleep, just about everyone seemed refreshed going into practice at 7:45 this morning. Tom's goal with the tournament, and with every tournament really, is that every bowler bowls to the best of their ability, supports their teammates, and has a fun learning experience. For some reason, everyone took those criteria seriously. People on both the Crimson (A) and Gold (B) teams were winning their head-to-head matches and also bowled some big scores on really challenging conditions. I don't think the energy dipped once on the Gold team, which featured many bowlers who have not gone through the gauntlet of a bowling tournament. The Crimson team had a slightly more challenging road, but they managed to win 3 out of 5 head-to-heads in their match against Saginaw Valley (the 2-Time defending National Champions) and only lost the team total by 25 pins. I know that sounds like "umm, that's great? I guess?", but if you told me that was going to happen today I probably would have stopped paying attention to you. The coach from Wright State (a really nice fella who has been extremely helpful on several occasions) even commented that Oberlin's marked improvement over the last couple of seasons is creating a buzz among the other schools.
The biggest game of the day happened in the final baker series between the Crimson team and the University of Cincinnati C team. Going into the set Oberlin was leading Cincy by about 50 pins in the overall standings. Cincy won the first match by about 20 pins and they earned a 20 pin bonus for winning the match. Cincy earned another bonus after they took the second game by 10 pins or so. Going into the 15th baker game of the day (which followed 5 team games), everyone was ready to go home and tired of the ever-frustrating lane conditions. Bryan led the charge by chucking the ball as hard as he could, as speed and power were what the lanes called for. The other guys decided to follow suit and managed to string together a 5-bagger that gave them a score of 223. At this point Cincy was mathematically eliminated from winning the third game and the 20 bonus pins. Cincy ended up bowling a score that completely canceled out their advantage from the first two games, allowing Crimson to maintain their position in the standings.
As Crimson finished, the Gold team was in the 2nd game of their final baker series against OU-Chillicothe. Chillicothe joined the conference last year and the best way to describe them would be "ragtag". But like the A-Team, not like the Island of Misfit Toys. The people on the team are really nice and they remind me of the Oberlin C team when I first started. Due to the lower strike percentages on both of these teams, the rest of the center had pretty much cleared out while they finished up. After every shot there was sincere cheering and support within and between both teams. At this point, Tom declared the match-up as the championship final, since both teams were meeting the criteria he established prior to the tournament. The Gold team took all three games, but there was so much mutual admiration between the teams that we were all winners. It's rather Montessori, I know, but doggone it I much prefer leaving a tournament with none of the bowlers pissed off about something. Everyone had some victory or positive experience to take from the tournament and I am now filled with optimism about this season. Afterwards, Brian invited us all to this pizza place in the city that allowed everyone to relax and have a good meal before hitting the road.
No one got lost. No one blew up in the parking lot. Everyone bowled well. Pittsburgh has redeemed itself.
So I'm working on a new mix for the lanes and I'm combing my iTunes library. "Ooo, 'Electric Youth'! I should...oh. Oh, God."
The date on the song is 1987. That predates many juniors and sophomores. Aside from explaining who Debbie Gibson was (aside from her appearance on Celebrity Fit Club) I would feel obligated to include the video as well:
Oh, Deborah. Save me from myself.
Everybody has the list of concerts they want to see, even if it would require the reanimation of a corpse or two. Until cryogenics steps up production or American Idol sells reanimation technology via text votes, I'll just have to work on the currently alive and kicking artists. The newest check mark: Bjork.
So far the Volta tour has only three dates in the States: one coming up in Atlanta, one in New York, and last night's in Detroit. Oh. Mah. GAWD. That was the best concert I have been to. The show was at the Fox Theatre, a gorgeous venue that totally matched the aesthetic that Bjork was trying to accomplish. The opening act was M.I.A. (by the way, EEEEEEEEE!). Although I love her, the last time I saw her in concert was a bit more enjoyable. There were a couple of major differences: 1) The Fox is an actual theater with seats and no dance floor, a fact that M.I.A. mentioned later in her set when she talked about how "[she] usually does this joint in clubs." 2) The opening act for Bjork is at a different level than the opening act for LCD Soundsystem. When she opened for the latter, I think there were more people in the crowd there to see her than LCD. Not so much the case this time. 3) When there is a Tiger game happening across the street from the theater, parking is a bitch-and-a-half, or maybe three-quarters. So people were running late. As a result she got the standard opening act treatment -- foolish concert-goers.
I'm glad there was an opening act because you then get to see the set construction in between the two artists' sets. As the light guys were getting in position the stage hands were setting up a series of flags. I got the feeling that the show was going to have a plot of some sort, or at least include some of Bjork's more militaristic songs. When the lights finally dimmed, a line of ten women playing a processional on brass instruments entered the stage. It may have been the mythological references hidden through the architecture of the theater, but I interpreted their staging as incorporating the essence of the Greek Muses.
Then the first grunt of "Innocence" and a blast of confetti. And Bjork came out on stage and the rocking out began. The entire band was getting into it, but instead of being choreographed they were all dancing in their own way. So cool. After every song, Bjork would go up to the microphone to say "Thank you." The staging also included video displays where you could watch the different electronics manipulated by her bandmates, which was intriguing.
The sound was awesome. The only problem I had was during "Pluto", partly because you couldn't really hear the build-up of the tension and partly because it was the last song of her set. After a lengthy ovation she returned to the stage to perform "The Anchor Song" in English and, I assume, Icelandic. My only other major critique was that the brass band did not bust it out during I Miss You, which surprised me since that song is all about the ecstasy of the brass section.
The final song was a riveting performance of "Declare Independence". Perhaps it was the M.I.A. performance from earlier in the back of my mind, but I never realized how political Bjork's music is. Though nothing says "Fuck you" better than the song 5 Years, particularly the live version. The way she was mocking the target of the song had me giggling. I giggled more watching her dance. Bjork dances to her music the way my sister would dance while listening to Bjork. I find that validating.
So yeah, Bjork is the shit. As if you didn't know.
Brad and Kathy are in town this weekend and Sarah and I went to hang out with them last night, in a roundabout way. Brad originally had a DJ gig at this club on the east side and so Sarah and I headed there first. I sort of knew how to get there, since it was only a few blocks away from where Sam lived. Of course, since it has been a year and a half, I did forget the nuances of the neighborhood, particularly every street having the words "Cedar" "Overlook" or "Euclid" in their names. After several turnarounds, we finally found the general area where the club was, parked, and started walking over. I sent a text to Kathy to find out where we could find them.
"We're going to Bounce!"
D'oh. I'm glad we found out before spending an hour playing "Marco Polo" in some place with a bunch of Case Western freshman being all "WOOOOOOooooo! PAR-taaaaYYYYYyyyyYYY!" Besides, we could now have the same atmosphere only with a bunch of drunken queens dancing to some really bad music. After a few more turnarounds (it's a little tough approaching a place from the east when you usually come from the west) we eventually met up with the dynamic duo.
We ended up staying in the Union Station part of the building because the drag show had a $5 cover. Having already seen one female impersonator pushing another around in a wheelchair (and later seeing the wheelchair one walking around mingling), taking the cheapskate route was probably the right call. Instead we were watching the music videos and snarking them to death. The best one of the evening:
Awesome. Of the dozen or so videos that we saw, I was surprised by how many artists I recognized yet how few songs I knew. Not that that is a bad thing. One of the artist/songs that I never heard of gave Kathy a conniption. It was Lucas Prata "And She Said..." I would post the YouTube of the video, but I can't find it buried under all the performances of his at the Staten Island mall. No joke. Apparently he performed at Kathy's little brother's prom this past spring. Oh, Lord.
Eventually, even the videos became to tiresome and we decided to call it a night. Brad will be DJing at the Sco tomorrow, which should be fun. It's good to see them again.
I just found out that the final issue of the Weekly World News hits newsstands this week. Another institution falling victim to the electronic word.
And yet I continue blogging.
Today's City Rec group was listening to 96.5 (Cleveland's KISS-FM station) instead of 107.9 (Hip-Hop/R&B). During the last five minutes of the group, DMX "Party Up" started playing. I don't think I could come up with a song that best describes my mental state right now AND is wildly inappropriate for a group of 6-year-olds.
And the radio edit doesn't really sound all that different from the original. They didn't do a good job of bleeping. I laughed. I laughed harder when it was immediately followed by Elliot Yamin.
Today was one of those days where I really wish I could shoot lightning out of my fingertips. Not to hurt anyone, mind you, just enough to intimidate. That would have been useful today.
Let me back up. For those of you who have escaped my summer kvetching, work has been horrendous. It has been just me for a week and a half with another week to go. Last week I had two 11 hour days, five kids groups, four leagues, open bowling, and a general feeling of endlessness. If I never have to work another kids group with glow bowling, I will be very happy. Ain't gonna happen until September, but whatever. We close for renovations Friday and I can't wait.
But I have to get through this week first. And as a warning to everyone, the safety on the bitch switch is off. Open bowling today was okay, but there's that moment of dread that hits at about 1:35 on Mondays when I realize that the Boys and Girls club will be invading. I am not fond of this group. First of all, when they set up their activity, they gave us an estimate of about 20 kids a week but today they had 7. That's been about average. Of course, we did our pricing based on 20 kids so we are getting totally hosed on this deal. Also, even though we quoted and reconfirmed a rate of $2 per kid, each kid is sent with $5. Not only do our 1's get drained but now all these kids are armed with vending machine money. Oh my fucking God. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if Uptown Girl wasn't there. I call her that not because she's been living in a white-bred world (wh-oa-whoa), but because she looks like a cross between Brittney Murphy and Dakota Fanning. I shit you not. If that hybrid wasn't bad enough, she doesn't fully form her words when she speaks (a trait I assume was described as "cute" by some drunken aunt and therefore reinforced the behavior) so I'm put even more on edge. Gah.
Then the basketball camp. With the boys age 10-14. Who of course make fun of the way I talk. Fuckers. Aside from trashing the place, the counselors were under the impression that payment was supposed to be collected (we bill, so no). Unfortunately, the counselors are not helping in the fight against the "dumb jock" stereotype. They decided the best way to collect payment was to use a plastic bag to actually collect the cash and have everybody get in line to pay at the end. As soon as they started their announcement I said to myself "Nope. That idea is not going to work." And it didn't. Not that it matters to me since, like I said, they aren't paying directly and I think it is more of a scam than anything else. How that basketball camp has stayed in business is beyond me.
Four days to go. Gotta make it to Friday.
Try not to write anything unfavorable about a game show contestant on the interwebs -- it can be far more annoying than it is worth. VH1's second edition of its awesome summer series The World Series of Pop Culture started this week and I have been fairly active in the conversation about it over at TWoP. This show only has a single thread rather than a forum, so all discussion -- be it the reactions to an episode, clarification about questions, and chatting among past and present contestants -- is confined to the same space. On the first night, there was a category requiring players to identify 80's songs from a given lyric. One contestant, rather than take a wild guess when it was her turn, opted to use the excuse that she wasn't born until 1982, therefore she didn't know the answers. This caused a minor shitstorm about strategy, "easy" questions, and the inevitable "How did she get on the show?" The arguments go as follows:
A. This player/team sucks (based on personality traits)
B. Those players/teams are awesome (based on knowledge)
A. They may know their stuff, but I don't want to be locked in a room with them.
B. I don't see you trying out to be on the show.
Repeat as Unnecessary.
As an added challenge, the actual contestants have started to post in the thread (the episodes were taped a couple months ago). I mentioned in one of my posts that I didn't particularly care for one team, that I thought they "bugged" during their exit interview (they were eliminated) and that ruffled the feathers of one of the people on the team who posts. What followed was essentially a call for an inquisition on all the "haters". That is so Jenny Jones I don't even know where to begin.
It is so trivial...yet I feel compelled to write about it.
Speaking of trivia, an interesting thing happened at work today. The Friday City Recreation "group" (two kids "supervised" by two adults) was bowling and the adults were engaged in a round of Bible trivia. Let's break this down. "Trivia", by definition, is "useless knowledge". Now, those who excel at Bible trivia would have to know the book pretty, for lack of a better word, religiously. Yet would those who excel at Bible trivia ever call it "useless knowledge"?
This is what happens when I'm left unsupervised with my own thoughts.
