Alicia stretched in her chair and drained the last of her coffee from her mug. It was approaching midnight and she was hurrying to finish her observation set before turning in for the night. The Others had wandered off to their nightly repose, and she was left in their kitchen typing away at her laptop. Beside her, the modulation device Ralph had given her six weeks earlier displayed the results of her last experiment.
The dial for the carrier was on the highest setting, and it had still drained most of her energy to interact with that particular Other. Tired as she was, Alicia finished the rest of her report with a minimum of frustration, and got up to put her coffee cup in the sink. As she headed upstairs to her quarters she started the modulation device's elaborate shutdown sequence and removed the interface from the side of her arm. The feeling of relaxation spreading through her spine was immediate.
Once again, though, her carelessness and impatience to be rid of the mental buzzing caused by the device's firewall proved to be - not a huge downfall, but a momentary stumbling block. She stepped wrongly on the third-to-top stair, causing the Other that had been giving her problems earlier to reactivate from its slumber and confront her at the top. Shit. The thing was going to think it was morning and it was going to want to go through its entire morning routine.
"WOW!" It chirped. "I JUST KNEW YOU WERE AWAKE! YOU KEPT ME UP ALL LAST NIGHT WITH YOUR TALKING AND WALKING AROUND AND I AM TERRIFICALLY PEEVED RIGHT NOW!" Okay, so "chirped" wasn't the right verb. And it didn't exactly even vocalize the words so much as it communicated the sentiment with its carefully measured climp-clump-STOMP down the stairs and the symphonic crash-bang-BOOM of plates and glasses being assaulted out of the dish cleaner. Alicia had to admire the engineers' skill in creating a machine that couldn't access the very bottom layer of its own memory - this way, the company saved money on power costs as the Others reacted to events and situations that they didn't actually experience. It was confusing for the testers at first, and it added another layer of complexity, but overall it was a good system.
Regardless. Alicia didn't have much patience to handle the creature properly, especially since it would take an hour or so for her modulator to become fully functional again. After glancing at the Other and realizing that it was still running through the set of Victimization scenarios that the engineers had implanted a few days earlier, Alicia decided it was time to enact some desperate measures. Giggling to herself, she dashed into her room and changed into one of the dresses the tailor had fitted her for. Running back downstairs, she hit a button on the stereo and struck a dramatic pose.
As the opening bars of "Thriller" blasted into the kitchen, the effect on the Other was almost as good as the scene in the Wizard of Oz where the one evil chick has that hi-ammonium-I'm-HCL-nice-to-meet-you reaction to the tub of water. It wasn't as good as it needed to be, though, so it was time to dance. She was lucky that there wasn't anyone else around to see her, but heck, it felt good. By the end of the song, little puffs of green smoke were escaping from the Other's ear and nose sockets, and Alicia figured that she'd done a good enough job of creating a short circuit for one night. As she was carrying the inert figure back upstairs to her nighttime storage bay, Alicia heard explosions outside.
She hit the floor and began to form a plan for getting outside and joining the battle before she realized with a wry smile that she definitely wasn't in a war zone (no matter how poorly the experiments might have been going) and that it was actually just fireworks to celebrate the New Year.
Ah. A most auspicious beginning, she thought.
31 December 2007
26 December 2007
Shake, Rattle, and Roll
Elwood the Fish died a couple days ago, the day I got back from New York. Not to be melodramatic, but it was almost poetic.
Elwood was with us for almost two years, and like so many aspects of our lives, he was a token of something more than just a cute little blue fish. Laura and I got him right after winter break sophomore year since our other roommate gave us a fish tank and a gift card to PetSmart for Christmas, only it wasn't just Laura and I that got him.
It was Tommy*, too. I didn't have a car in Pittsburgh, and taking a bus to the Waterfront in the dead of winter wasn't the most pleasant experience in the world, and we were both busy during the week anyhow. Tommy visited almost every weekend, though, and since he always drove up he had a car to shuttle us there. Us two womenfolk overwhelmed him with our barrage of directions (especially since we were telling him to go two different ways) and when we finally got there he stood back while we tried to find a fish we both liked. I wasn't crazy about goldfish; she didn't care all that much.
We finally settled on a Beta, and I remember feeling slightly uneasy looking at the stack of small cups of fish swimming around in endless circles. I didn't even really want to touch the container that Elwood was in, so Tommy held onto it since Laura was holding some food and other things the lady told us we'd need. While we stood in the checkout line, I christened him Elwood, enjoying my own private mirth at the pun on his color. Laura had never heard of the Blues Brothers, and Tommy just gave me another one of those "I don't relate to you at all, but I'll pretend to go along with it for your sake" looks that were becoming increasingly common. (Incidentally, I don't fault him for those at all. In fact, I wish they had been more clear, and come much earlier.)
Nonetheless. We got the little guy home, and proceeded to set up the fish tank. Tommy tried to take charge, since I was still squeamish of the fish and since he thought Laura was too excitable to be entirely trusted. (I disagree, for the record.) I don't know why I've always had an aversion to aquatic critters. Elwood was certainly an amazing creature, and I've never had any sort of traumatic experience with any of them. Nonetheless.
I think I eventually made friends with Elwood, though perhaps not as much as Laura did. When Tommy and I broke up, along with the aches of loneliness, there was a deep relief that things like - changing the fish's water - weren't going to be big productions anymore. It is so tiring to be around people that need to pull personal meaning from every little thing they do (I'm not saying I've never been guilty of that myself, though.) Laura almost always had the job of feeding him, since it was too confusing to try and switch off and since I didn't seem to be around enough to do it regularly myself.
One thing I could never get comfortable with was catching him in his net. I didn't mind cleaning out the tank, or giving him some food when Laura was out of town, or keeping him company on the rare afternoon that I was alone in the apartment, but I couldn't ever get up the nerve to catch the poor thing more than the once or twice I absolutely had no choice. The sight (and feeling) of him writhing around in a blind panic would always scare the living daylights out of me. I knew that he'd calm down once he was out of the water and in the air, but catching him just gave me the creeps.
Elwood had real personality. He'd been sick most of this semester, but before that he had this awesome trick of swimming up to the top of the tank whenever someone was about to feed him. He'd go after food with real gusto - he'd see something floating on the surface, and it would be - chomp - chomp - chomp - like a little blue torpedo.
When Tommy and I broke up, I wondered if seeing Elwood would upset me.
Nope.
Elwood never really belonged to Tommy, regardless of how much he tried to take charge of things. Ironically enough, I think that if he hadn't tried so hard (as we all do when we trick ourselves into thinking that wanting to want something is the same thing as wanting it) then the fish would have reminded me much more of him. He always was, though, a bit of a reminder of That Time in my life, some sort of reminder that I was still Figuring It Out and that I'd come a long way right with the little guy. Somehow he managed to be more than a thing in the background, especially with the way Laura took care of him (and made that sign with his name on it at the beginning of last year).
Christina took him home to her parents' house the summer after our sophomore year, and I found a caretaker for him in Pittsburgh last summer. I was always a bit amazed that Elwood survived being passed around (and being hunted by Christina's cat!) and it seemed a bit like he was the most Indestructible Beta Fish Ever. This semester it started to feel like we were almost waiting for him to cash in his tickets, though. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't enjoy seeing him moving even less than before, and staying on the bottom of the tank instead of coming up for food.
When Winter Break rolled around, I loaded him up in my car and brought him home. He'd been keeping me company in my room (at my Mom's behest since the kitchen and living room were already crowded), and I worried that when I went to visit Colin I'd come home to find him dead.
Nope.
When I walked into my room and set my bags down and checked the tank, Elwood actually started swimming for a few minutes. After that, he assumed his usual upside-down-sideways braced-against-the-side position in the tank, and I left him alone. I came back a bit later to find him laying on the bottom of the tank. He didn't appear to want to move, but I decided to leave him for awhile and see if he moved. He didn't. I got the net and gently touched him, with no response. It was like he'd wanted me to see him alive one last time, like he wanted me to be aware of the fact that he was moving on - not to grieve, but so I wouldn't miss the point.
I had a dream last night where I was finding him dead all over again. It was the same scene, with me using the net to try and establish some sign of life. It didn't feel like a nightmare; I'm not sure the dream really had any sort of emotional color to it at all. I felt like I was just reviewing, grokking, and Making Sure. Life goes on, after all.
I will miss him, though.
*The ex-fiance, for those of you who just tuned in within the last 22 months.
Elwood was with us for almost two years, and like so many aspects of our lives, he was a token of something more than just a cute little blue fish. Laura and I got him right after winter break sophomore year since our other roommate gave us a fish tank and a gift card to PetSmart for Christmas, only it wasn't just Laura and I that got him.
It was Tommy*, too. I didn't have a car in Pittsburgh, and taking a bus to the Waterfront in the dead of winter wasn't the most pleasant experience in the world, and we were both busy during the week anyhow. Tommy visited almost every weekend, though, and since he always drove up he had a car to shuttle us there. Us two womenfolk overwhelmed him with our barrage of directions (especially since we were telling him to go two different ways) and when we finally got there he stood back while we tried to find a fish we both liked. I wasn't crazy about goldfish; she didn't care all that much.
We finally settled on a Beta, and I remember feeling slightly uneasy looking at the stack of small cups of fish swimming around in endless circles. I didn't even really want to touch the container that Elwood was in, so Tommy held onto it since Laura was holding some food and other things the lady told us we'd need. While we stood in the checkout line, I christened him Elwood, enjoying my own private mirth at the pun on his color. Laura had never heard of the Blues Brothers, and Tommy just gave me another one of those "I don't relate to you at all, but I'll pretend to go along with it for your sake" looks that were becoming increasingly common. (Incidentally, I don't fault him for those at all. In fact, I wish they had been more clear, and come much earlier.)
Nonetheless. We got the little guy home, and proceeded to set up the fish tank. Tommy tried to take charge, since I was still squeamish of the fish and since he thought Laura was too excitable to be entirely trusted. (I disagree, for the record.) I don't know why I've always had an aversion to aquatic critters. Elwood was certainly an amazing creature, and I've never had any sort of traumatic experience with any of them. Nonetheless.
I think I eventually made friends with Elwood, though perhaps not as much as Laura did. When Tommy and I broke up, along with the aches of loneliness, there was a deep relief that things like - changing the fish's water - weren't going to be big productions anymore. It is so tiring to be around people that need to pull personal meaning from every little thing they do (I'm not saying I've never been guilty of that myself, though.) Laura almost always had the job of feeding him, since it was too confusing to try and switch off and since I didn't seem to be around enough to do it regularly myself.
One thing I could never get comfortable with was catching him in his net. I didn't mind cleaning out the tank, or giving him some food when Laura was out of town, or keeping him company on the rare afternoon that I was alone in the apartment, but I couldn't ever get up the nerve to catch the poor thing more than the once or twice I absolutely had no choice. The sight (and feeling) of him writhing around in a blind panic would always scare the living daylights out of me. I knew that he'd calm down once he was out of the water and in the air, but catching him just gave me the creeps.
Elwood had real personality. He'd been sick most of this semester, but before that he had this awesome trick of swimming up to the top of the tank whenever someone was about to feed him. He'd go after food with real gusto - he'd see something floating on the surface, and it would be - chomp - chomp - chomp - like a little blue torpedo.
When Tommy and I broke up, I wondered if seeing Elwood would upset me.
Nope.
Elwood never really belonged to Tommy, regardless of how much he tried to take charge of things. Ironically enough, I think that if he hadn't tried so hard (as we all do when we trick ourselves into thinking that wanting to want something is the same thing as wanting it) then the fish would have reminded me much more of him. He always was, though, a bit of a reminder of That Time in my life, some sort of reminder that I was still Figuring It Out and that I'd come a long way right with the little guy. Somehow he managed to be more than a thing in the background, especially with the way Laura took care of him (and made that sign with his name on it at the beginning of last year).
Christina took him home to her parents' house the summer after our sophomore year, and I found a caretaker for him in Pittsburgh last summer. I was always a bit amazed that Elwood survived being passed around (and being hunted by Christina's cat!) and it seemed a bit like he was the most Indestructible Beta Fish Ever. This semester it started to feel like we were almost waiting for him to cash in his tickets, though. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't enjoy seeing him moving even less than before, and staying on the bottom of the tank instead of coming up for food.
When Winter Break rolled around, I loaded him up in my car and brought him home. He'd been keeping me company in my room (at my Mom's behest since the kitchen and living room were already crowded), and I worried that when I went to visit Colin I'd come home to find him dead.
Nope.
When I walked into my room and set my bags down and checked the tank, Elwood actually started swimming for a few minutes. After that, he assumed his usual upside-down-sideways braced-against-the-side position in the tank, and I left him alone. I came back a bit later to find him laying on the bottom of the tank. He didn't appear to want to move, but I decided to leave him for awhile and see if he moved. He didn't. I got the net and gently touched him, with no response. It was like he'd wanted me to see him alive one last time, like he wanted me to be aware of the fact that he was moving on - not to grieve, but so I wouldn't miss the point.
I had a dream last night where I was finding him dead all over again. It was the same scene, with me using the net to try and establish some sign of life. It didn't feel like a nightmare; I'm not sure the dream really had any sort of emotional color to it at all. I felt like I was just reviewing, grokking, and Making Sure. Life goes on, after all.
I will miss him, though.
*The ex-fiance, for those of you who just tuned in within the last 22 months.
25 December 2007
Saviors and Crosses
I don't understand why anyone would want to carry around as much unhappiness as some people seem to. I don't understand why anyone would want to work so hard at squeezing their emotions farther and farther beneath the surface until it seems like they're actively waging a war against any vestige of anything - even happiness - that might cause a few ripples of feeling to spread across their stoic exterior.
We all get enough crosses in this world without having to make our own, and it's hard for me to watch anyone - much less someone I care about - seeking out the heaviest, most splintery wood for their self to lug around. There's probably some selfishness in that - being around miserable people makes me miserable, too. I wish I knew how not to be affected and how to go about my own life without finding myself withdrawing as well, but for some reason it's not that easy.
Today is Christmas; a day when we're supposed to celebrate the birth of hope and joy. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past couple days, and I think I've stumbled into what I believe is my most valid reason for subscribing to organized religion, and it is this: It Makes Things More Real. I'm tired of the prevailing meta-view of religion that says "spirituality is good, I like being a good person, hope is good, and Christmas is a *symbol* of happiness, but "religion" is nothing more than a cultural artifact that I might know intellectual facts about..."
I guess that can be confusing because to a lot of people religion seems like just another breed of mass delusion that adds a confusing haze between imagination and reality, and I don't deny that that's the case in many instances. I would counter that with the argument that, properly directed, religion can be a really valuable way to grapple with, and experience, realities that aren't immediately accessible or even evident otherwise.
I'm going to jump to Easter for a minute, and the crucifixion story. I think that on some level this story can be taken as the narrative of what a lot of us go through when we finally understand on every level of our being that as individuals we aren't at the center of the universe, and that until we truly shed that selfish view (and accompanying resentment, jealousy, etc) we aren't going to be happy. I think it's fair to say that a lot of people experience some sort of personal/spiritual crucifixion (and resurrection - that's the important part) that is every bit as real as being physically nailed up and physically rising from the dead.
I think religion is important as a way to make these points accessible to us. Somehow it seems like talking about feelings, emotions, attitudes, and perceptions only emphasizes (to most people, at least) that these things aren't tangible, and so still tends to make them seem less real or less relevant whereas religion provides an arena to physically practice and have real experiences. I'm arguing this regardless of the fact that it seems like a lot of people who practice religion don't actually see it this way - my concern here is more with what I believe and how I think it relates to human experience. Additionally, religion offers a community for practicing, and I think the sense of interconnectedness and support gained thereof is also tremendously valuable emotionally and physically.
Therefore, to me, Christmas shouldn't be a day where we celebrate the fact that happiness exists, or where we "hope" for peace and joy, or where we reflect on the archaic beliefs of a bunch of primitives - it should be a day where we truly EXPERIENCE and celebrate the birth of that joy and every other positive notion people associate with the day, where we feel with every fiber of our being that such things ARE REAL, and not just as nice ideas. They don't exist independently of us, however, and I think that's the point that a lot of people miss. This seems like the whole idea behind having the Savior of mankind "begotten, not made" and "born of a virgin" - just as they do not appear at the arbitrary whim of a distant God (Jesus wasn't just plunked down out of the heavens, as he could have been if he wasn't the actual result of some premarital nookie, was he?) these experiences also are meant to be available to the individual (vice requiring two people, or ten, or whatever). Nobody is left with an excuse for not partaking.
Therefore. These feelings are conceived by spirit, they are cultivated deep within, and finally they spring into the world from the most humble places. They, and not the mere thought of them, are real. This is the reason why it seems so senseless to wander around lost in a forest of grief and pessimism all the time. People seem to try so hard to find a sense of meaning and relevance through suffering, but the whole point of Christmas is that THERE IS NO FUCKING REASON TO BE SO SAD ALL THE TIME, and furthermore - history has endowed us with any number of philosophies to help us find that joy.
We all get enough crosses in this world without having to make our own, and it's hard for me to watch anyone - much less someone I care about - seeking out the heaviest, most splintery wood for their self to lug around. There's probably some selfishness in that - being around miserable people makes me miserable, too. I wish I knew how not to be affected and how to go about my own life without finding myself withdrawing as well, but for some reason it's not that easy.
Today is Christmas; a day when we're supposed to celebrate the birth of hope and joy. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past couple days, and I think I've stumbled into what I believe is my most valid reason for subscribing to organized religion, and it is this: It Makes Things More Real. I'm tired of the prevailing meta-view of religion that says "spirituality is good, I like being a good person, hope is good, and Christmas is a *symbol* of happiness, but "religion" is nothing more than a cultural artifact that I might know intellectual facts about..."
I guess that can be confusing because to a lot of people religion seems like just another breed of mass delusion that adds a confusing haze between imagination and reality, and I don't deny that that's the case in many instances. I would counter that with the argument that, properly directed, religion can be a really valuable way to grapple with, and experience, realities that aren't immediately accessible or even evident otherwise.
I'm going to jump to Easter for a minute, and the crucifixion story. I think that on some level this story can be taken as the narrative of what a lot of us go through when we finally understand on every level of our being that as individuals we aren't at the center of the universe, and that until we truly shed that selfish view (and accompanying resentment, jealousy, etc) we aren't going to be happy. I think it's fair to say that a lot of people experience some sort of personal/spiritual crucifixion (and resurrection - that's the important part) that is every bit as real as being physically nailed up and physically rising from the dead.
I think religion is important as a way to make these points accessible to us. Somehow it seems like talking about feelings, emotions, attitudes, and perceptions only emphasizes (to most people, at least) that these things aren't tangible, and so still tends to make them seem less real or less relevant whereas religion provides an arena to physically practice and have real experiences. I'm arguing this regardless of the fact that it seems like a lot of people who practice religion don't actually see it this way - my concern here is more with what I believe and how I think it relates to human experience. Additionally, religion offers a community for practicing, and I think the sense of interconnectedness and support gained thereof is also tremendously valuable emotionally and physically.
Therefore, to me, Christmas shouldn't be a day where we celebrate the fact that happiness exists, or where we "hope" for peace and joy, or where we reflect on the archaic beliefs of a bunch of primitives - it should be a day where we truly EXPERIENCE and celebrate the birth of that joy and every other positive notion people associate with the day, where we feel with every fiber of our being that such things ARE REAL, and not just as nice ideas. They don't exist independently of us, however, and I think that's the point that a lot of people miss. This seems like the whole idea behind having the Savior of mankind "begotten, not made" and "born of a virgin" - just as they do not appear at the arbitrary whim of a distant God (Jesus wasn't just plunked down out of the heavens, as he could have been if he wasn't the actual result of some premarital nookie, was he?) these experiences also are meant to be available to the individual (vice requiring two people, or ten, or whatever). Nobody is left with an excuse for not partaking.
Therefore. These feelings are conceived by spirit, they are cultivated deep within, and finally they spring into the world from the most humble places. They, and not the mere thought of them, are real. This is the reason why it seems so senseless to wander around lost in a forest of grief and pessimism all the time. People seem to try so hard to find a sense of meaning and relevance through suffering, but the whole point of Christmas is that THERE IS NO FUCKING REASON TO BE SO SAD ALL THE TIME, and furthermore - history has endowed us with any number of philosophies to help us find that joy.
24 December 2007
The Tailor
Alicia took a deep breath and headed down the hallway that smelled of sweat and old coffee. Although she had been assured by Ralph that this assignment actually would be more palatable than the last one, she'd learned her lesson over the years - usually more reassurances from him also meant more reasons to worry on her part.
Ralph was there, as always, lurking in the shadows. He kept experimenting with ways to make his office seem less like something that belonged in a cheap action movie, but the harder he tried the less he succeeded. This actually worked to his advantage, Alicia reflected, as most people probably wouldn't take the job if it looked more ordinary. It could be impressive to witness the things that people would put themselves through just for the sake of having a good story, or even being able to hint at having a good story.
Nonetheless. She dropped into her customary position on his couch and assumed her by-now naturally quizzical expression. Her boss stepped out from the shadows and handed her what looked to be a small PDA. Upon closer inspection, she noticed some kind of transmitter on the front, and a series of gauges displayed on the screen.
"Modulation!" Boomed Ralph.
"Eh? I'm not taking any more of those pills from last Christmas, if that's what you've got in mind." Alicia had no qualms about blatantly refusing to do jobs for which she'd already proven herself particularly well unsuited.
"Not a chance, my dear! Never you worry about that..." again, the anxious tone as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her. "No, it just works like this, you have to do a bit of guesswork about their levels, but once you've got a pretty good estimation, you dial in whatever you want them to experience and use your best guess for the right carrier...once you figure out the right amount of receptivity, it's like a little translator. We've been able to add a lot more precision to their sensors since last year, and this one doesn't require running off of your main system, either."
Mmhm. This did actually sound quite a bit better. Okay, fine. If nothing else, the hazard pay could be used to buy herself a nice week's vacation somewhere warm and sunny in a few months. She gathered her things and headed out the door.
"One last thing, young lady!! You'd better not forget to show up for your normal job this year! Make sure you've got something presentable to wear, too. We'd do a much better business if you looked like you actually cared about your other work."
Yeah, yeah. Alicia thought that her pretend assignments were little more than a creative waste of time and space, but they did keep the paychecks coming between the real work, so she couldn't complain too much. Her job for this quarter was working as a teller in one of the banks close to her apartment; in all, it didn't actually sound that heinous.
On her drive home, she decided that it would probably be worth her time to stop by the garment store and get something nice to wear to work. After careful consideration, she decided to try one she'd never been to before, somewhere across town in one of the newer suburbs.
As she walked in, she cast her eyes over the racks looking for something to really stand out to her. After a few more minutes browsing, she chose a couple knee length skirts and some blouses to match. As she headed to the fitting rooms, a sales associate intercepted her. Actually, it wasn't an interception so much as a gentle redirection.
"Have you thought about just getting something made for yourself?"
She glanced up, taken aback and trying to decide if the man was implying that she had poor taste with the outfits she'd chosen, or if he was just trying to make a few extra credits before the holidays, or if he honestly thought he could do something better for her than anything he had out in his store. Naturally cautious, Alicia opened her mouth to politely dismiss him, but surprised herself with the words she actually spoke.
"Sure, I guess. What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know. You looked like you might want something nice for yourself."
Alicia allowed herself to be fitted. The entire process didn't take long, and at the end of it she walked out of the store with a couple ticket stubs to pick up new outfits the following week.
On Monday, two entirely too short days later, she arrived for her first day of work. Unsurprisingly her job turned out to be much more taxing than she'd anticipated; she seemed to have a particularly strong talent for underestimating new situations. As the day wore on, she tried everything to rid herself of the nagging sense of discomfort but it proved to have more persistence than the ancient Microsoft Windows Auto-Update systems. Thoroughly disgruntled and not a little cranky, she went to visit Ralph after her shift ended.
"I'm not going to do it. I can't handle the mindless drivel you've set me up for, and not only that, but I feel like after seven long years you could at least give me one of the more interesting side jobs. I'm tired, and I'm numb."
As always, Ralph just laughed at her.
"My dear" he giggled, "if only you knew what you were really telling me..." Still attempting to hold a few renegade chuckles at bay, Ralph went over to his desk and picked up a blank note card. After scribbling on it for a few seconds, he handed it to Alicia and told her to be on her way, refusing to acknowledge her presence no matter how hard she tried to position herself within his field of vision and hearing. Finally admitting defeat, she slunk back out the door. She was riding the elevator back down to the parking lot before she remembered the card resting in her hand.
1) You aren't doing your job if you're bored.
2) Courage and confidence!
As she hurried out into the frozen precipitation falling on the parking area, the faintest glimmer of realization dawned in her mind. She tried to reason away her embarrassment, but it took almost rear-ending the car in front of her on the highway to snap her out of her reverie. Finally she began to laugh at her own meta-struggle as she made her way back across to the other side of town to pick up her new clothes.
The outfits fit perfectly. Somehow the skirts and dress the tailor had made for her seemed to find the right places to support her figure without making her feel trapped inside a labyrinth of fabric and seams.
"I can't thank you enough..." she started.
"Don't." He smiled at her and rang up her purchases while she surreptitiously checked the levels on her modulator, pleased to see that her intuition was becoming more and more accurate.
Ralph was there, as always, lurking in the shadows. He kept experimenting with ways to make his office seem less like something that belonged in a cheap action movie, but the harder he tried the less he succeeded. This actually worked to his advantage, Alicia reflected, as most people probably wouldn't take the job if it looked more ordinary. It could be impressive to witness the things that people would put themselves through just for the sake of having a good story, or even being able to hint at having a good story.
Nonetheless. She dropped into her customary position on his couch and assumed her by-now naturally quizzical expression. Her boss stepped out from the shadows and handed her what looked to be a small PDA. Upon closer inspection, she noticed some kind of transmitter on the front, and a series of gauges displayed on the screen.
"Modulation!" Boomed Ralph.
"Eh? I'm not taking any more of those pills from last Christmas, if that's what you've got in mind." Alicia had no qualms about blatantly refusing to do jobs for which she'd already proven herself particularly well unsuited.
"Not a chance, my dear! Never you worry about that..." again, the anxious tone as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her. "No, it just works like this, you have to do a bit of guesswork about their levels, but once you've got a pretty good estimation, you dial in whatever you want them to experience and use your best guess for the right carrier...once you figure out the right amount of receptivity, it's like a little translator. We've been able to add a lot more precision to their sensors since last year, and this one doesn't require running off of your main system, either."
Mmhm. This did actually sound quite a bit better. Okay, fine. If nothing else, the hazard pay could be used to buy herself a nice week's vacation somewhere warm and sunny in a few months. She gathered her things and headed out the door.
"One last thing, young lady!! You'd better not forget to show up for your normal job this year! Make sure you've got something presentable to wear, too. We'd do a much better business if you looked like you actually cared about your other work."
Yeah, yeah. Alicia thought that her pretend assignments were little more than a creative waste of time and space, but they did keep the paychecks coming between the real work, so she couldn't complain too much. Her job for this quarter was working as a teller in one of the banks close to her apartment; in all, it didn't actually sound that heinous.
On her drive home, she decided that it would probably be worth her time to stop by the garment store and get something nice to wear to work. After careful consideration, she decided to try one she'd never been to before, somewhere across town in one of the newer suburbs.
As she walked in, she cast her eyes over the racks looking for something to really stand out to her. After a few more minutes browsing, she chose a couple knee length skirts and some blouses to match. As she headed to the fitting rooms, a sales associate intercepted her. Actually, it wasn't an interception so much as a gentle redirection.
"Have you thought about just getting something made for yourself?"
She glanced up, taken aback and trying to decide if the man was implying that she had poor taste with the outfits she'd chosen, or if he was just trying to make a few extra credits before the holidays, or if he honestly thought he could do something better for her than anything he had out in his store. Naturally cautious, Alicia opened her mouth to politely dismiss him, but surprised herself with the words she actually spoke.
"Sure, I guess. What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, I don't know. You looked like you might want something nice for yourself."
Alicia allowed herself to be fitted. The entire process didn't take long, and at the end of it she walked out of the store with a couple ticket stubs to pick up new outfits the following week.
On Monday, two entirely too short days later, she arrived for her first day of work. Unsurprisingly her job turned out to be much more taxing than she'd anticipated; she seemed to have a particularly strong talent for underestimating new situations. As the day wore on, she tried everything to rid herself of the nagging sense of discomfort but it proved to have more persistence than the ancient Microsoft Windows Auto-Update systems. Thoroughly disgruntled and not a little cranky, she went to visit Ralph after her shift ended.
"I'm not going to do it. I can't handle the mindless drivel you've set me up for, and not only that, but I feel like after seven long years you could at least give me one of the more interesting side jobs. I'm tired, and I'm numb."
As always, Ralph just laughed at her.
"My dear" he giggled, "if only you knew what you were really telling me..." Still attempting to hold a few renegade chuckles at bay, Ralph went over to his desk and picked up a blank note card. After scribbling on it for a few seconds, he handed it to Alicia and told her to be on her way, refusing to acknowledge her presence no matter how hard she tried to position herself within his field of vision and hearing. Finally admitting defeat, she slunk back out the door. She was riding the elevator back down to the parking lot before she remembered the card resting in her hand.
1) You aren't doing your job if you're bored.
2) Courage and confidence!
As she hurried out into the frozen precipitation falling on the parking area, the faintest glimmer of realization dawned in her mind. She tried to reason away her embarrassment, but it took almost rear-ending the car in front of her on the highway to snap her out of her reverie. Finally she began to laugh at her own meta-struggle as she made her way back across to the other side of town to pick up her new clothes.
The outfits fit perfectly. Somehow the skirts and dress the tailor had made for her seemed to find the right places to support her figure without making her feel trapped inside a labyrinth of fabric and seams.
"I can't thank you enough..." she started.
"Don't." He smiled at her and rang up her purchases while she surreptitiously checked the levels on her modulator, pleased to see that her intuition was becoming more and more accurate.
19 December 2007
District of Contentment
I adore DC. I'm not sure I can even explain why. It's certainly not the biggest, nor most sophisticated, nor most beautiful, nor most historic, city I've ever visited but it's safe to say that it's my favorite. I can't think of a single time, ever, that I've not been happy in the city.
Today's been kind of a disjointed day. I woke up, intended to get up and run some errands before heading down here, and promptly went back to sleep (I needed it.) After I did wake up for real, I tried to go by the pet store to get things to change Elwood's water before I head out of town for a few days, but they weren't open yet. Frustration. So then I headed out towards the Metro station, and stopped by a couple other places that didn't have things I was looking for. More frustration. I thought about driving to some other places, but ended up deciding to head to the Metro instead.
I got down to St. Matthew's just barely in time to go to Confession before Mass. I was really glad that I made it, because the priest I talked to was this really sweet old guy; he almost seemed like Santa. (And he wished me a Merry Christmas! Gasp! Oh noes!*) Mass was really good, too. The priest talked about hope during his homily, which I guess also included faith on some level. He was really just emphasizing that having hope, and believing that good things can, and will, happen is such a crucial part of living a fulfilling life.
After Mass I ended up at a clothing store on Connecticut, where I found the world's cutest dress. Seriously. I love it. I almost didn't even step in the store, but I got to it after being too impatient to wait for a light to change on one block, and having to walk back to the Metro after stopping in another place farther down that block. See? DC is magic. I almost never just stumble into places anywhere else.**
Anyway, I ended up at Pentagon City where I *finally* found a Christmas present for my Mom (women are so hard to shop for) and now I have a few hours to myself for hanging out in a coffee shop and reading The Gunslinger until I meet Adam for dinner later. What seemed like it might be a super hectic day seems to have worked itself out, and tomorrow I'm driving to NY to visit Colin for a couple days.......life is so good.
*Ultra-conservative Catholics contend that this phrase, along with Christmas carols, isn't to be used before December 25th...
**I'll admit that this is probably a result of my attitude that results from me being in the city in the first place, and not from any sort of mystical character of the place. But still.
Today's been kind of a disjointed day. I woke up, intended to get up and run some errands before heading down here, and promptly went back to sleep (I needed it.) After I did wake up for real, I tried to go by the pet store to get things to change Elwood's water before I head out of town for a few days, but they weren't open yet. Frustration. So then I headed out towards the Metro station, and stopped by a couple other places that didn't have things I was looking for. More frustration. I thought about driving to some other places, but ended up deciding to head to the Metro instead.
I got down to St. Matthew's just barely in time to go to Confession before Mass. I was really glad that I made it, because the priest I talked to was this really sweet old guy; he almost seemed like Santa. (And he wished me a Merry Christmas! Gasp! Oh noes!*) Mass was really good, too. The priest talked about hope during his homily, which I guess also included faith on some level. He was really just emphasizing that having hope, and believing that good things can, and will, happen is such a crucial part of living a fulfilling life.
After Mass I ended up at a clothing store on Connecticut, where I found the world's cutest dress. Seriously. I love it. I almost didn't even step in the store, but I got to it after being too impatient to wait for a light to change on one block, and having to walk back to the Metro after stopping in another place farther down that block. See? DC is magic. I almost never just stumble into places anywhere else.**
Anyway, I ended up at Pentagon City where I *finally* found a Christmas present for my Mom (women are so hard to shop for) and now I have a few hours to myself for hanging out in a coffee shop and reading The Gunslinger until I meet Adam for dinner later. What seemed like it might be a super hectic day seems to have worked itself out, and tomorrow I'm driving to NY to visit Colin for a couple days.......life is so good.
*Ultra-conservative Catholics contend that this phrase, along with Christmas carols, isn't to be used before December 25th...
**I'll admit that this is probably a result of my attitude that results from me being in the city in the first place, and not from any sort of mystical character of the place. But still.
15 December 2007
Christ-miss
I'm home for Winter Break. Yesterday I did some Christmas shopping and went for acupuncture. The acupuncture was really good, and I fell into this odd halfway dreaming/halfyway consciously thinking about something state. It's happened before, and this time I snapped out of it when I realized I'd been "thinking"/dreaming about a couple people named Susan and Terry, and they didn't exactly correspond to anyone I know in real life. (I don't have any friends named Terry...)
Today I've been in kind of an odd funk because it doesn't really feel like Christmas much at all - but I think the odd part to me is that I'm not really bothered by it; I feel like I should either be more excited about the season, or I should be more upset that I'm not excited. I'll settle for the neutrality, though.
My Christmas shopping is almost done. I at least know what my last couple purchases are going to be, and where to get them. The next few days are going to be pretty hectic - a good friend from high school is visiting, then I'm visiting Colin for a couple days, then back here for Christmas and a couple weeks of just relaxing - and reading, writing, art, music, and code.
I have a whole stack of books I want to get through: I just finished Cryptonomicon, and I'm about halfway through A Prayer for Owen Meany; when that's done I'm going to dive into The Gunslinger, and maybe Great Expectations or something else.
Cryptonomicon was brilliant, incidentally. There are some places where Stephenson's ideas seem a bit too contrived, or where it feels like he goes a bit too far in adapting other people's ideas and passing them off as his original thoughts, but overall I felt that it was a really well crafted story full of geeky analogies and insight, and some interesting "history."
I'm still not sure how I feel about A Prayer for Owen Meany. It's not what I expected - not that I had a really good idea of what it was that I was expecting. Christmas figures heavily in the part of the book I just finished, so it seems like a Christmas story in some ways, but I don't entirely understand where it's going yet.
Also, I had some really interesting experiences these past couple weeks. I've always been kind of wary of modern medicine - not that I hate or distrust science or anything like that, but I definitely reaffirmed a lot of my sentiments about medicine. It wasn't the most pleasant experience at all, but in some ways it gave me a lot of reminders and insights into the things that a lot of people go through all the time. It really changed, on an emotional level, the way I'm going to perceive people who are dealing with certain types of challenges. I would hope that on an intellectual/outward level I've always been at least accommodating, if not kind, but I feel like I have a much different level of understanding now, and that's worth something.
Lastly. I listened to a Zen lecture on the dangers of over-thinking things while I was driving home from CMU. The master made some interesting points: if anyone repeated things to us as much as we repeat our own thoughts to ourselves, we'd get really, really, annoyed with them; it's not always true that thinking about a problem will solve it - in a lot of cases thoughts clutter up that other mental space and make it harder to actually see the truth in a situation. It made me realize that some things are never going to be solved or changeable, or even really healed, by thinking about them excessively, and it seems like there's a lot to lose by staying in the "as soon as I handle xyz I can concentrate on abc" mindset. I'm not talking about avoiding problems that need to be dealt with; I'm actually talking about letting hard problems interfere with just getting on with life. All of that seems pretty simple, but hearing it helped me quite a bit.
Today I've been in kind of an odd funk because it doesn't really feel like Christmas much at all - but I think the odd part to me is that I'm not really bothered by it; I feel like I should either be more excited about the season, or I should be more upset that I'm not excited. I'll settle for the neutrality, though.
My Christmas shopping is almost done. I at least know what my last couple purchases are going to be, and where to get them. The next few days are going to be pretty hectic - a good friend from high school is visiting, then I'm visiting Colin for a couple days, then back here for Christmas and a couple weeks of just relaxing - and reading, writing, art, music, and code.
I have a whole stack of books I want to get through: I just finished Cryptonomicon, and I'm about halfway through A Prayer for Owen Meany; when that's done I'm going to dive into The Gunslinger, and maybe Great Expectations or something else.
Cryptonomicon was brilliant, incidentally. There are some places where Stephenson's ideas seem a bit too contrived, or where it feels like he goes a bit too far in adapting other people's ideas and passing them off as his original thoughts, but overall I felt that it was a really well crafted story full of geeky analogies and insight, and some interesting "history."
I'm still not sure how I feel about A Prayer for Owen Meany. It's not what I expected - not that I had a really good idea of what it was that I was expecting. Christmas figures heavily in the part of the book I just finished, so it seems like a Christmas story in some ways, but I don't entirely understand where it's going yet.
Also, I had some really interesting experiences these past couple weeks. I've always been kind of wary of modern medicine - not that I hate or distrust science or anything like that, but I definitely reaffirmed a lot of my sentiments about medicine. It wasn't the most pleasant experience at all, but in some ways it gave me a lot of reminders and insights into the things that a lot of people go through all the time. It really changed, on an emotional level, the way I'm going to perceive people who are dealing with certain types of challenges. I would hope that on an intellectual/outward level I've always been at least accommodating, if not kind, but I feel like I have a much different level of understanding now, and that's worth something.
Lastly. I listened to a Zen lecture on the dangers of over-thinking things while I was driving home from CMU. The master made some interesting points: if anyone repeated things to us as much as we repeat our own thoughts to ourselves, we'd get really, really, annoyed with them; it's not always true that thinking about a problem will solve it - in a lot of cases thoughts clutter up that other mental space and make it harder to actually see the truth in a situation. It made me realize that some things are never going to be solved or changeable, or even really healed, by thinking about them excessively, and it seems like there's a lot to lose by staying in the "as soon as I handle xyz I can concentrate on abc" mindset. I'm not talking about avoiding problems that need to be dealt with; I'm actually talking about letting hard problems interfere with just getting on with life. All of that seems pretty simple, but hearing it helped me quite a bit.
03 December 2007
3rd and Snow
It's already the last week of classes for the semester...wow. I guess we always comment about how quickly time goes by, and this semester was no exception.
Things are a lot different than I thought they'd be when the year first started, but I'm not complaining about it.
My weekend was pretty good. Friday night I went to the PSO performance for class, and it was really good. They played some pieces by Italian composers, including a bunch of folk songs arranged by Berio...I wasn't overly impressed by most of them, but right after intermission they played one of his original works, and I liked it quite a bit. We also heard Respighi's "Feste romane" which just made me want to go visit Italy again.
Saturday I went to dinner and saw the fifth "Harry Potter" movie with Colin. I'd already seen it, which was lucky since I fell asleep while we were there. I woke up in time for the ending, though, and really appreciated how well done it was. I feel like there is a really strong Christian undertone to the events that happen right at the end - which is ironic on a number of levels.
Things are a lot different than I thought they'd be when the year first started, but I'm not complaining about it.
My weekend was pretty good. Friday night I went to the PSO performance for class, and it was really good. They played some pieces by Italian composers, including a bunch of folk songs arranged by Berio...I wasn't overly impressed by most of them, but right after intermission they played one of his original works, and I liked it quite a bit. We also heard Respighi's "Feste romane" which just made me want to go visit Italy again.
Saturday I went to dinner and saw the fifth "Harry Potter" movie with Colin. I'd already seen it, which was lucky since I fell asleep while we were there. I woke up in time for the ending, though, and really appreciated how well done it was. I feel like there is a really strong Christian undertone to the events that happen right at the end - which is ironic on a number of levels.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)