Tee

Hortense is in a group called PSIADA, which I don't really know anything about except they're international and a debate club, or something like that. They were having a fundraiser today at Happy Valley Freez, and I figured I'd go to help out her club.

Another friend, Amy (from English 202), had asked me to play at an open mic for a charity group she's in as well (Global Hunger Awareness, maybe?). Hortense's club was at 6 and the other was at 6:30, so I figured I would just go one right after the other. Amy's club didn't have a piano set up there, so I just brought my guitar. And so when I went to Hortense's fundraiser, I was wearing my blue hat, Fall Out Boy t-shirt, white belt and jeans, and the guitar on my back.

I walked in. I looked around for Hortense, and she wasn't there. I could see some people who were clearly members of PSIADA in the corner to my right, but I don't know any of them. I don't really know what to do for the fundraiser, so I just kind of stand there for a moment. The guys in PSIADA are staring dead at me, then turn to each other and laugh. One of them says, "Uh, what?" quietly to his friends, and another says, "Oookay..." It seemed quite clear to me that they were judging me really hard.

So I went to the cashier, who came to the register by then, and said clearly, "I'm here for the PSIADA fundraiser. Could I get a small chocolate cone?" I made sure they could hear it. I took my guitar to the corner where they couldn't see me and ate.

I texted Hortense:

J: I'm here! Where are you?

H: Oh no! Not there yet! I can be there in fifteen, sorry!

J: Hurry! Your friends are tots judging me!

H: Haha i love you!

J: IT'S STILL HAPPENING =(

H: Haha i still love you

J: Awww, thanks horty! Love you too =)

Extremely adorable, although it did not alleviate the judging.

//

Hortense sat with me for a while as I finished up my ice cream. It wasn't a kid's size, and I legitimately had a very hard time forcing myself to finish all of it. I didn't ask for a cup or throw it away because I was already being judged.

Before we left, Hortense stood up from my table and went to go hug her friends goodbye. I got up and stood near the door. She talked to them quietly and laughed.

When she got to me, she said, "When I was talking to them they were like, Dude, you gotta lock that down." I didn't really understand. "What does that mean? Is that good? Like lock me down because I'm a crazy person? Or lock me down like girls and boys?" "Yeah, like to date you." I was extremely confused. We laughed about it. She told me that it meant they thought I was attractive. I still felt kind of silly.

//

I saw Hortense later in her room, after she took her shower. She asked if I wanted to hear a fun story about PSIADA, and I said sure, but that I also wanted to hear a final verdict on their judging of me. She said that was the funny story.

"I talked to my friends and was like, 'So, were you guys judging my friend?' And they said, 'Judging, I don't know what you're talking about!' 'Well, he says you guys definitely said something...!' And the kid who was bisexual was like, 'I wasn't judging him, I was checking him out. Is he fickle?' He didn't ask if you were gay because other people don't know he's bisexual, but I know."

How strange.

The moral of the story is

Peace out.

The Center

I went to see Tess work with her learning partner for English 202H today. I almost cried twice. He was a thirty-year-old man, roughly, with short brownish hair and short red facial hair. He came in listening to his iPod with his headphones in, and told Tess he was going to go get something from the vending machine. He offered to get her something if she wanted it; she said no, and so he offered to myself and Dave as well, who was also watching the session.

They pulled out the books they had been using. A pronunciation book (he was almost 100% perfect with that, actually), some Entertainment magazines, a Game Informer, a screenwriter's bible, a book of scary Pennsylvania stories. Tess decided the lesson for the day would be to work on the script he was writing. He read the script to us so far - also not bad at all at reading - which was more of an outline of a horror film, but not yet complete. He creates the plot as he goes.

Tess pointed out that he had mixed up the words from and form again. As he read, he often mixed up the names Chelsea and Katrina. He often wondered aloud where the period should go. He didn't know how to use quotation marks. He couldn't spell the word friends or the word Escalade on his own, although he got them later with some help and some sounding out. He seemed completely happy to work on the story the whole time.

It totally broke my heart.

He's such a nice guy. He really was sweet and very polite, and he makes the choice to come work with Tess every single time he does it. He has a job as a dishwasher that most people in college would never dream of taking. He tries, he really does. And he still couldn't write a proper sentence if his life depended on it - and I seriously mean that, because that's how bad it was. Sometimes he couldn't even get a single word correct.

It made me think of all the bullshit we hear. "Anyone can make it in America! If you just work hard, you can do anything!" No, false. Some people have legitimate problems, and no matter how hard they work, they can never overcome some difficulties. It kills me to know that society, in general, would provide no help to this man. That doesn't seem like the kind of thing that a kind people and a kind Earth can do. He's a good guy, he works hard, he tries, he does what he can. He survives because he has a family that loves him and treats him like gold. But if it weren't for that, he'd be on the streets for sure. And that should never be allowed. Meeting him and working with him, even for an extremely short time, made this actually hit home, and it feels more unconscionable now that it ever has.

Peace out.

Cutting Class

We were at Fourth Meal tonight and Dan R shared a great story with us.

D: "Once, I slit a girl's wrist in school with a pair of scissors."

Table: "!! Why?"

D: "Because she was a b****"

Table: [Lots of laughter] How did that possibly happen?

D: She was my lab partner and I hated her and we were just fighting and it got to the point that I was holding her hands in place and had a scissor blade to it and she said, "Do it, I dare you, you don't have the balls," and then I just did it and was like, "F*** you, yes I do!"

Table: [Incredulation]

D: Well, and the teacher was like twelve months pregnant, so she didn't care about ANYTHING. Kids would get changed for sports teams in the back of the room and she would just be like, "Oh, come on, guys..." And so when I did this, she didn't care at all, she was just like, "Dan, come on, clean it up." It kinda helped that she basically thought the girl had it coming.

I don't think I could ever imagine something quite like this happening at GV. Although kind of messed up, we laughed a ton during this story. He told it well.

Peace out.