2001-01-23 - 9:22pm

Who's Who Cheat Sheet
Who I Read

On the internal soundtrack: "Groove is in the Heart", Deee-Lite (is that enough Es?)

Whew! Little moment of panic there. I had just gone to the office downstairs for something, and upon arriving down there realized my purse/backpack thing was unzipped. Things sometimes fall out when that happens. I had a horrible moment thinking that a feminine product I'd tucked in there this morning might have fallen out -- perhaps right up there in my office, which I share with a guy. Happily, that wasn't the case.

Well, yesterday was a yucky day. I have a lot of rather serious issues on my mind right now -- racism, depression, morality -- plus I'm going crazy about the California power mess.

I tried writing about some of it, but it didn't work, which is why there was no entry yesterday.

As for the California crap, I'll just say one thing: The government did something that was intended to save money to consumers, but IT WAS NOT DEREGULATION. The California government limited how much utilities can charge customers without taking into account that the price of natural gas may skyrocket. ARGH.

The funny thing is, if you've ever read Atlas Shrugged, there are a lot of disturbing parallels between what the government does in the book and what is currently happening in California.

I really loved Atlas Shrugged. There are holes in Ayn Rand's philosophy, of course -- in real life, one single philosophy can't encapsulate everything -- but as an individualist and libertarian I really enjoyed it. And I even figured out how I fit into her scheme of things. I'm not a Dagney Taggert by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd like to think I could play the Eddie Willers part.

I heard recently, about an incident involving a Asian woman. This woman was in a nail salon, staffed almost entirely by Asian women, and some ignorant person mistook the her for one of the staff. I don't know all the details, but it's not important; this kind of thing happens all the time. Ask anyone of a minority group in this country and they could probably tell you of dozens of such instances.

Now, when this happens for the five hundred and thirty-seventh time, it's gotta be fucking annoying. In some cases, the assumption people are making is downright condescending, such as when people automatically assume the minority is, say, the secretary instead of the vice president.

In some cases, however, there is another side to it, so I would like to offer another perspective.

When I was in college, I had a friend who had grown up in the inner city. His community was predominantly Latino and Black. He himself was Black. He was the first person in his family to go to college, and he chose to go to a predominantly white institution. He told me once that when he first arrived on campus, "I couldn't tell the white people apart! They all looked alike to me!"

I was struck dumb. There is an assumption in this country that if you have trouble telling members of a minority group apart, that you must be racist. It's true in many cases -- anyone who's racist isn't going to put the effort into learning the distinguishing characteristics of a minority group.

But sometimes, sometimes, it's just because they're not familiar with the distinguishing characteristics. If you spend all your time with white folks and tell people apart based on hair and eye color, when you're suddenly confronted with a world where everyone has black hair and dark brown eyes, you have to re-structure how you look at people. It's not that hard to learn, but it takes a little effort.

It would be nice if people would make an effort to do that, but even if they don't, it doesn't necessarily mean they're racist. Many people, especially older folks, have never had the opportunity to get to know members of another ethnic group (a situation almost impossible for today's young people, probably). They may have odd ideas about them that they picked up here and there, but that doesn't mean they have animosity or condescension towards them. There's a difference between ignorance-fueled racism and just plain ignorance.

I'm not making excuses for racist behavior, which I don't agree with at all. I'm just trying to say that sometimes it's really not racism.

Part of the reason I worry about this so much is this: A lot of the time, when I'm out and about, people (strangers) will talk to me -- ask me for directions, just say hello, who knows -- and I DON'T HEAR THEM. I'm sure it appears that I'm ignoring them, and they assume I'm a bitch. If that person is of a minority group, they may very well assume I'm a racist bitch. It makes me crazy, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it.

Poindexter has come to my rescue at times -- he said once that a grocery cashier made an incredible face, like, "Well, fine, DON'T fucking say hello" -- and explained to people that I'm hard of hearing, while I am busy flipping through my coupons, oblivious.

Yeah, so. Anyway. This is only one small part of the puzzle I'm puzzling over. I'm also thinking about what it must be like to have to face racism and/or ignorance day in and day out, how tiresome and infuriating it must be. About how I wish people would stop bean-counting and see people as individuals, with ethnic group only once piece of who they are. About the seemingly inevitable "us versus them" mentality that humans have. About how political correctness and the shushing of racists means racists are harder to identify and leads people to suspect everyone, which is detrimental to those of us who are trying so hard NOT to be racist. There's a lot going on in my head, but I'll stop here for today.

My appointment with the volunteer coordinator is today right after work. I'm nervous. A little. We'll see how it goes.

So, let's see. I saw "Titanic" this weekend for the very first time. Imagine that. Random thoughts, which have probably been done to death already since I'm over three years late here:

Positive stuff first:

I've heard some people say that shot of the hand on the steamy back window was "hot". It didn't didn't do much for me. I was wondering what the hell kind of contorted position you'd have to be in that you'd do that. (Side window, maybe, but not the back window, unless Rose was sitting up during this?)

What DID work for me, which I've never heard anyone mention, is how Rose and Jack can't keep their hands still when they're holding hands. They keeping twining and untwining. It happens on the bow and again in in the car, and possibly another time that I'm forgetting. The first time I held hands with Poindexter, after pining after him for years, it was like that.

Hands must be a James Cameron thing, since the sex scene in the first Terminator movie was big on hand-holding too. The IMDB has nothing to say about it but "[feet]", though.

And negative stuff:

- Leonardo's mannerisms and behaviors are those of a teenager. He flops around too much. This just doesn't work for me, however much I may like his hair.

- The old couple on the bed and the woman with her children just about KILLED me. The whole thing with people sliding down the deck or freezing to death is HORRIFYING. I've got a short list of "good ways to go" and this is NOT on it.

- Sigh. The water. Jack goes on and on and on about how cold the water is, speculating it's a little above freezing, when Rose is precariously perched on the bow. How long would it take to freeze to death (or die of shock, for that matter) in water that cold? I'm thinking a few minutes, tops? Nevertheless, they go wandering around in the water in the ship as though it's a relatively balmy 70 degrees (which would, by the way, be too cold for me to swim in).

- Why in GOD'S NAME did that old lady throw the thing overboard? Why is some dork she met for two days when she was 17 more important to her than her husband, whom she presumably spent a lot more time with? Was it that disaster-bonding thing?

This movie would have worked MUCH better for me if she had never married, but had cashed in the diamond and spent it on paying off ship owners always to have plenty of lifeboats available, paying for the college educations of those newly-fatherless kiddies, and raising Titanic orphans. She would have had a rich, full life and the I-loved-Jack-best thing would have been slightly more believable. As it is, I feel sorry for her husband, living all those years with a woman who loved someone else.

Anyway. The movie was like a never-ending "Book of Questions" question. I kept wondering to myself what I would do. I'd like to think I'd be like the old couple on the bed, or that Poindexter and I would be tearing the ship apart looking for something else for each of us to float on. I hope I wouldn't be grabbing children to guarantee a seat on the lifeboat. But who knows how I'd react in a horrible situation like that. I also started wondering about the whole "women and children" thing and whether that's fair to the men, and if it isn't, what the hell WOULD be?

I really need to get off these deep topics for a while. It's wearing me out.

My basil plants were full of leaves, so I decided to make some pesto this weekend. It turned out REALLY WELL. I think I've got my recipe down just right. I use: 2 packed cups spinach, 1 packed cup basil, 1/3 cup olive oil, 3 medium blanched (for 1 min) cloves garlic, 1 small raw clove garlic, 1/4 tsp each salt and pepper. I can't believe that leaf puree makes me so happy.

We also roasted the better part of two heads of garlic and smashed it up with salt and pepper, spread it on French bread, and dipped it in balsamic vinegar. It was soooooooo good.

Can you tell I like garlic? I have garlic breath right now, from my pesto lunch. I better buy some gum before I go to the interview.

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