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today the glitterbomber is... |
2003-05-29 i am feeling much, much better. when i said that i didn�t know how to fix my problem, that wasn�t true. i knew what i had to do. i just didn�t want to do it out of fear and embarrassment. i�m still learning how to talk about my feelings and needs, and it�s pretty damn scary for me. yeah, i know this is all vague. i told my boy (the other party involved in my little drama) that we never have to mention it again, and besides, some things should remain private. thanks for all the kind words from everybody. it�s nice knowing i have such support out there. anyway, on to more mundane news. yesterday, i thought i had a tapeworm. well, not really, but god was i eating a lot. my tummy was all hurty from hunger practically all damn day. i had pasta, strawberries, cereal, cheese, popcorn, and i finally killed it with cinnamon hearts. who knew those little things were such a powerful parasiticide (i don�t think that�s even a word)? ooh, and we finally got a refrigerator at work. when most of the people moved out of our suite, they took their fridge and microwave with them, leaving the rest of us to have to buy our lunches every day. now we have a full-size fridge and two microwaves, and i can stop spending so much money on buying lunch. this is exciting news in my world. it was also exciting when i got a surge protector for my computer. academia isn�t exactly a fast-paced, exciting environment. the other day, i had an interview at a woman�s home in a run-down part of town. i drove up a steep, bumpy brick road (of which there are no shortage in pittsburgh) and showed up at the address and knocked on the door. no answer. i knock again. still no answer. i knew she was expecting me because i�d called and confirmed that morning. so i knocked once more to no avail. i was turning to go back to my car when i man pulled up in front of the house. �can i help you?� he asked. �do you live here?� i countered. he nodded, so i told him that i was looking for t**** m*****. �she doesn�t live here,� he said. i sat in my car to doublecheck the address and wonder what i should do. i knew i�d had the address right, but the man didn�t seem to very helpful (or bright). his missing-teeth wife came out to take out the garbage, and they conferred. the man yelled over that i should try the alley. �you�re probably looking for 1315 rear,� she told me. (i�d been at 1315 front, i guess.) so i drove up the street to the alley entrance, parked, and headed over. the alley was really a narrow street and was lined on one side with small houses whose entrances were right on the street. as i walked past one house, a small girl wearing a diaper and a sesame street t-shirt said hi to me repeatedly from behind the screen door. the other residents just gave me odd looks. this is mean, but i�m going to say it anyway: they were white trash. i got to 1315 rear, and my interview subject said that she had an emergency and could i come back in an hour. i agreed and headed back down the alley. one corpulent woman who looked much older than i�m sure she was asked me if i was looking for someone. i said that i�d found her and kept moving. when i came back an hour later, it was the same scene. my subject wasn�t home yet, so i sat on her small stoop to wait for her. luckily, she arrived a few minutes later. one of the first things she told me was that she couldn�t wait to get out of that neighborhood. her six-year-old son picks needles up off the street there; her neighbors rob her for things that they can sell for drug money. it was not a savory place. i was glad to get out of there. today, i�ve got another interview in the morning, then therapy for me in the afternoon. in a way, it�s almost like double therapy. i just hope it goes by fast. |
