I’m Amanda. I’ve got wide eyes, a smart mouth, and a MetroCard. And I’m not afraid to use them.
When you live in most parts of the country, most major events are accessed only through the Internet, a newspaper, or TV news. It’s easy to forget about these events, and why not? They make us think, question, and feel. It hurts. In the sixties, Timothy Leary encouraged people to “turn on, tune in, drop out,” but nowadays most of society would agree that it’s better to turn off, tune out, and throw away.
Malcolm Gladwell’s Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking refers to a lot of interesting research. It discusses both the power and problems that come from first impressions made in a blink. Consider size. Humans equate size, particularly height, with power and leadership. In the U.S. population, about 14.5% of all men are six feet or taller. In the Fortune 500 CEO population, 58% of men are six feet or taller. I had heard something like that before, so I wasn’t surprised.
I was walking to the 125th Street station after work today and had to pass some indolent mechanics on my way. As I passed, one of them said, “Miss, you’ve got some nice legs!”
Her name was Mrs. Anderson, and she had a moustache. She went into our Texas History class to substitute one day in 1995, and I’m sure she still hasn’t recovered.
“You fondle my trigger, then you blame my gun.”
-Fiona Apple
Look what I found on Craigslist just now:
If you are a castrating bitch, let me buy you lunch (seriously) - m4w - 34
A few months ago, Gap had an ad campaign for its jeans wherein singers reasoned, “Your favorite song is like your favorite pair of jeans.” Alanis Morissette had a spot, and I don’t remember her favorite song, but I do recall there was this young pianist I’d never seen before who sang the beginning of Todd Rundgren’s “Hello, It’s Me.” I thought he had a beautiful voice, but the commercial never said his name and I never tried to find out who he was.
Saturday School attendance has dropped dramatically. Last week, I only had my three students from Yemen. We finished the lesson and spent the rest of our ninety minute block comparing and contrasting schools in America and in Yemen. The boys argued that I.S. 666 is better than the school they attended in Yemen. Yikes.
There’s this pesky camera crew that’s been hanging out on my stoop since this morning. Earlier an ABC van was parked on the street and some overly coiffed lady was running her hands over and over her undisturbed do. Now guys with heavy bags of equipment and boom mikes are hanging out, no van in sight. They keep looking at me as I leave, return, leave, return on my Sunday errands.
Lately, I find myself craving the written word even more than usual. I look through the mostly unread books at my school library, in the classrooms, in boxes of trash on the sidewalk. I hoard all the interesting matter I can find, copying phrases I like into notebooks and onto post-its. It’s like the way a pregnant woman craves foods she’s never been that crazy about - cranberry sauce or pickle spears dipped in milk - and feels compelled to seek out this nourishment. Nutritionally, it all makes sense. The body understands what she cannot - that she needs some nutrient she doesn’t normally get, one that she doesn’t normally need.
