poetry project snafu

So, the Bade Museum is not giving us the flexibility that we need/want in order to do this hanging installation (of which I have not written on this blog), and it appears that we will have to drastically modify our site proposal. What really frustrates me is that we were given the impression that they could accommodate us. Now, it seems we either have to change our concept or find another venue for 2009. Aaaarrrgh.

by yourself?

Just last week, I heard on NPR a very smart and sassy psychologist who very eloquently commented on the phrase/question "just one?" that is often asked by the waitstaff at various dining locations. I was not only very impressed by the humor, irony, sarcasm, and wit of her commentaries, but I absolutely agreed with her on all counts. Listening to her, I too wanted to share my woes as a single diner. But, I hesitated to tell you all these things, because as you know, there are bigger fish to fry and more worrisome causes to consider.

But, just today, I read over at Kudzu Jungle something that inspired me to return to my original musings on this topic. So, here they are ...

Last Friday, finding myself suddenly alone on a perfectly wonderful evening preceeding what promised to be a fantastic weekend, and feeling decidedly too lazy to cook a full 3-course meal, and detesting the idea of washing my own dishes, I ventured to restaurant X. With nothing more than a slight hesitation, I pushed open the door and entered into the warm candlelit restaurant.

Hostess: "How many?"

Me, out loud: "One."

Hostess: "By yourself?"

Me, in my head: "No, while I say one, there are actually 10 more of me coming right through this door, because when I said one, I wanted 10, really, because I just wanted to test your arithmetic skills."

Hostess, in her head: "Another one, dining alone on a perfectly wonderful Friday evening, preceeding what promises to be a fantastic weekend... so, so sad..."

Hostess, out loud: "This way please... In the corner ok?"

So she ushered me into a dark corner squeezed between two couples, at which I shook my head no and asked for a different table. As she removed the second placesetting, I remembered the Perspectives piece I'd heard on the radio, and tried to think of how many times I'd been asked "just one?" or "alone?" or "by yourself?".

I have no problems dining on my own -- I do it often and I don't feel sad about it. It is the state of things for (some) independent young persons in the 21st century. I enjoy it: the convenience of not having to cook and clean up, the idea of having a nice glass of wine on a cool evening just because and not having to purchase an entire bottle, the silence of being in your own thoughts, the peacefulness of being at ease with your self, etc.

However, there are many who do not enjoy dining alone. In fact, they may feel embarassed doing many things alone. Some even feel empty, lost, even destitute at the notion of going anywhere without a man by her side (why don't we say man on her arms?). I think the waitstaff that I've met -- many of them look at single diners and cannot help but judge, wonder, imagine what the reason why this person or that person is eating by herself. I do marvel at the ability of some to intone at just the right pitch the two words "by yourself?" -- every conjecture, every assessment is injected into the slightly inflected question mark at the end. But of course, there are some who think nothing of it. And those folks are probably the ones who would dine alone, too. Just one. Just like me.

accidents

This morning, my dad got into a car accident. Poor pops. He was stuck between two trucks on 360 during traffic jam, leaving Arlington, and was rammed by a truck. He's ok, not seriously injured, slightly sore. Neck hurts. Chest pains, a bit. Tomorrow will be doctors' visits. They've met w/ the lawyers who will work things out. The itty bitty Hond Civic is totaled. I know he was shaken up a bit, especially since the airbags didn't deploy. But, he was more saddened that the car was destroyed; he said he'll miss it, becuase in driving it to work, he is reminded of my brother (who used to drive it before coming out here). Of course dad would think first of the car. Everything else is insignificant.

I'm stealing this:

"Lord God, our Protector and Provider, we give thanks for the presence of your angels in the midst of our daily lives. Continue to guide us with your grace and love, that we may live to serve you with our utmost. Amen."

virtual reality, really

Just last week, a friend commented that I spend too much time in virtual space, and chastised me for not cultivating real-life relationships. Am I online that much? Sigh.

just like an American

A recent conversation with Ms. X led me to blog once again, and think hard, about what it means to be "an American". During our very casual and friendly discussion, she noted that I sound "just like an American" without an accent or anything.

How do you respond to that?