Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Atmospher(a)

 

Today I was in Tacoma. I actually was there for a cool thing -- I watched some glassworkers at work for about an hour, and saw some really cool sculptures. The colors of the glass, the light from the forge...they were mesmerizing. Also, it was interesting to see the flow of the workers. Although I think the one guy was visiting from somewhere, and was clearly in charge, he barely needed to talk to the others. They worked together, seamlessly. The one dude with a ginormous fro that I was afraid was going to catch on fire at any moment (It was seriously an awesome 'fro) was the junior man on the account, and then there was a guy who clearly knew what he was doing, and another guy who answered all our questions while he was wrangling with 45 pounds of glass on the end of an eight foot pole that was approximately 1100 degrees. No big deal. It was epic -- and it would have taken away from the experience had I taken photos, so I didn't. 

But on the way to the cool thing, I saw kind of a lame thing. It was right across the street from the freeway and the industrial traintracks --which are still definitely in use-- and some very new apartment buildings, which were clearly having both the upside of location (proximity to public transport, freeways, and a cool museum) but also the downside (loads of cars, very loud trains, and did I mention, a general seedy industrial feel?). 

It was right by a posh restaurant that probably only the inhabitants of the several-story apartment complex frequented, but which probably kept them in business. There it is, in hard-to-see letters: ATMOSPHERA. Was it retail? Leasing agent office? Interior design consultant? It was unclear from looking at the wall; however, what was clear was the utter and complete neglect of the fish tank in full view -- the centerpiece, as it were, of the whole operation. I know you can't see it very well, because of the reflection, but that's not just a beige colored wall -- it's one very, very dirty fishtank. The walls are definitely fully coated with a thin layer of algae everywhere, and more in some places. If there was a filter, it hadn't been changed in forever. No lights, no nothing. And just one small fish, lonely and sluggish, then seeming to desperately dart. If you look closely, you can see it. It's slightly to the right of center tank. 

Atmosphera was doing its part to lend a sad, neglected atmosphere to Tacoma, which in many ways already seems sad and neglected. (Sorry to any native Tacomans, but everyone else knows what I'm talking about. At least there is [mostly] no longer a Tacoma Aroma to contend with, as well.)

Monday, September 14, 2015

burps and breakfast

A recent breakfast conversation:

Nephew: *burps loudly*
His mom: If you must do that, please do this. (Covers her face with a napkin.)
Nephew: You mean, covering it up?
His mom: Yes.
Nephew: But then no one will be able to HEAR IT!
*me shaking the table from silent laughter*
His mom: Yes, dear. That's the point.


I love family time. 

Sunday, September 13, 2015

summary of sisterhood :: misplaced modifiers

Sisters are the best.

Sistern, sissies...sistahs...they're all little nicknames for marvelous people that have all the best ways to comfort you, the fastest ways to get under your skin, and the capacity give you tough but necessary love when you need it most.

Recently, I had a conversation with my li'l sis that went like this (via text):

Me: I got a message from so-and-so today. (So-and-So and I had been on a couple of dates.) He said he was sorry, the truth is that he "enjoyed getting to know me immensely" but that he was "focusing more on a girl he met in Utah" and that he would "appreciate any opportunity to remain friends and include me in social activities in the future."

[I should say that I was not surprised by what he had to say.  In fact, I gave him full points for actually letting me know, as most people don't even give that courtesy these days. The wording of his text seemed like he was...trying too hard to be nice. Perhaps I am extra critical of him, as being rejected, two dates or twenty, is not most people's idea of fun. I do believe he was trying to be kind, but it seemed a little over the top. Not that I'm really complaining, of course -- merely making an observation. I would much rather rejectors try too hard to be nice than to be jerkfaces.]

Her response came back almost immediately:

"Tell him he misplaces his modifiers. I doubt he knows you "immensely."

 I laughed and laughed, as the "immensely" was what caught my attention, as well.