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Sunday, February 21, 2010

Phoney and Deafiant

My friend George got punched by a deaf girl last night. The whole thing was very weird.

One of us saw one of them take George's phone off the table while he was up having a boogie to the song "I Saw Her Standing There". You know the one. It goes "She was just seventeeeeeen if you know what I mean. And the way she looked was way beyond compare...". Great song. We were doing the twist, spinning each other around, pointing at the singer and giving all our fellow dancers thumbs ups. If only it was possible to freeze that moment in all of its glory, because what followed was not pleasant.

It really did not help that they were deaf. It made us the bad guys. It made communication difficult -conveniently difficult- or maybe just difficult. They denied taking it before we even asked. I've seen enough episodes of Law&Order to know that's suspicious.
George was calm. He had just returned from two weeks back home in Greece. Goodbye sunshine, family, and delicious fresh-pressed olive oil. Hello frigid weather, puke-splattered streets and phone theft.

He and Andy motioned "Do you have the cell phone? Please give it back" as best they could. The main suspect and his friends heaved and flailed their bodies angrily. I was perplexed by the bizarre scene. They were so angry, but obviously not at the accusation which they knew was justified (by the way, the perpetrator has since texted using George's phone, confirming that he did indeed take it). So what were they angry at?

The situation was almost instantly impossible. We were at a standstill.

Then, in an act of seemingly unprovoked rage, the girlfriend of the main guy lunged at George and smacked him on his right eye. It made his eyebrow piercing bleed and swell a bit. The bartender got him some ice.

Our two options at that point were to leave the pub or to call the police. We just left.

What I learned from the experience:

1. There is no excuse for being objectively angry- not even deafness.

2. Most people are nice and understanding. The bar staff, for example, were genuinely concerned. And I will not forget that before the whole drama happened we were dancing with random, happy, friendly people.

3. Violence is irrational and scary. I felt sick a bit and apparently the bartender's hands were shaking (Andy saw when she was writing down his contact details).


Anyway, on a less depressing, more generic note- isn't the internet great? I'm STILL not over it's incredible awesomeness. Today, in Starbucks, I googled the lyrics to a song that was playing as I ate my chocolate chunk cookie (indulging after last night's insanity). Now the song is purchased and resting patiently in my iTunes library until I can get home and play it without the fear of disturbing the fellow s-bucks patrons. So, yeah, the internet is once again brilliant.

Love you,

Margaret

UPDATE: George has a legit black eye!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Who do you think you are?


I have figured "people" out. I know that is a very general statement, but it's true.


People (you know who you are) seek IDENTITY. They want to know who they are. They want their friends to tell them.


I realized this human-wide characteristic after I had to consult Facebook when someone asked me what my favorite movie was. It made me think- who AM I??It also made me think about the times I've asked my friends "How would you describe me to a stranger?" or "Do people know me as the girl who always wears shirts and sweatshirts with wildlife scenery on them?" or "What would you say my 'look' is? Native-American-chic?"


At Gonzaga I belonged to the elite group in which you could be called "bagel girl", which I took much pride in.


More evidence of this fascinating theory:


People are always defining themselves by what they're not. This is exemplified by Barbie Solbakken's famous words, "I'm just not a thai-food kind of girl" (It turned out she was a thai-food kind of girl, she just didn't know it yet).


When someone is particularly desperate for an identity they decide not to like amazing, wonderful, objectively good things like chocolate, Summer and LOST. I feel sorry for them.


When you're not quite sure who you are, it's common to consult your "roots". This might make you a Washingtonian, a Catholic, a Democrat, a Vegetarian or any other group society so conveniently places you in. Who am I? Ahhh, now I remember- I am a Catholic Democrat, a proud resident of Washington State and I do NOT eat meat. Sigh of relief. My identity has been found!


(By the way, I am clearly not talking about myself there. I am a pescatarian, after all)


BUT I am forever an Arrowhead Hawk, Kenmore Colt, Inglemoor Viking, and Gonzaga Bulldog.


When the father of my cousin's first college roommate introduced himself to my aunt and told her "I'm a pilot" she responded with "You're a pilot? So am I!" Of course, my aunt was talking about being a University of Portland Pilot while the man was talking about the other, lesser known, meaning of "pilot"- the one that means flyer of commercial aircraft. Though my cousin was mortified, each pilot was surely more secure in their identity.


So, if you ever want to make someone's day and secure their friendship at least temporarily, tell them who they are. Describe to them a defining characteristic that sets them apart from the crowd. They'll love it and they'll love you for it!


Don't believe me? Check out my Facebook page and see how many friends I have.


LOVE (it's almost Valentine's day),


Margaret


Editors Note: The above screen shot of a Facebook Interests section is not my Facebook page....simply a product of google image search.

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