Sunday, August 16, 2015
Why you should go see dance.
I hypothesize that one of the reasons why younger adults (ages 20-35) do not go out to see dance performance is because even if you can get alcohol you usually cannot bring it to your seats. I also believe that while in the process of becoming, being, and purposefully trying to act like an adult and what that should be, we try to avoid magic. We desperately avoid magic, or life and the other adults in it force its painful removal. But dance is magic. Not only do we need dance in our lives, we also need to allow magic to happen too. We are unknowingly desperate for it, seeking it out with (for example) deceptive little trips that we call vacations, trying to escape something when in actuality we need to run away from the grip of false callousness and simply allow suppressed necessities like creativity, naivite, charm, and of course magic to flow and run out of us as they are wont to do. It doesn't make you a child though, unfortunately, we have deemed them child-like, and nobody wants to go there. But I think we should go there. We really should go to the dance.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Serving My Country aka "How Jury Duty Works in Kings County"
8:38 am - I am now in the lobby of the supreme court building. Adventureland.
8:46 am - I am now in the juror waiting room.
9:27 am - Could have arrived now. We all worked through our cards together. I hope everyone by now has figured out their date of birth, citizenship, and address.
9:29 am - Now they are weeding people out if they do not speak English, are not citizens, don't actually live in Brooklyn, are students during the day, are stay at home parents who have to pick kids up at 3, or have such serious medical conditions that they aren't actually here.
10:18 am - Although many people here look normal, they mostly do not match "my peers."
10:19 am - A captivating hour and a half of reassuring ourselves of our own names, date of birth, and employment has passed, and now we wait with buzzing anticipation. The rose ceremony awaits.
10:33 am - They read a bunch of names in alphabetical order. Surprisingly, no one volunteered tribute. I don't think there are a lot of siblings here. THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN.
12:15 pm - Second round of names called. I continue to wait. I feel disillusioned, unappreciated, hopeless. At least I know that, for now, I am not unwanted. A faint light glimmers.
1:34 pm - I am eating cheesecake and pickles at Junior's. I'm not pregnant. I am Brooklyn.
3:26 pm - DISCHAAAARGED! Huge group of us not allowed to judge our peers for the next eight years.
8:46 am - I am now in the juror waiting room.
9:27 am - Could have arrived now. We all worked through our cards together. I hope everyone by now has figured out their date of birth, citizenship, and address.
9:29 am - Now they are weeding people out if they do not speak English, are not citizens, don't actually live in Brooklyn, are students during the day, are stay at home parents who have to pick kids up at 3, or have such serious medical conditions that they aren't actually here.
10:18 am - Although many people here look normal, they mostly do not match "my peers."
10:19 am - A captivating hour and a half of reassuring ourselves of our own names, date of birth, and employment has passed, and now we wait with buzzing anticipation. The rose ceremony awaits.
10:33 am - They read a bunch of names in alphabetical order. Surprisingly, no one volunteered tribute. I don't think there are a lot of siblings here. THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN.
12:15 pm - Second round of names called. I continue to wait. I feel disillusioned, unappreciated, hopeless. At least I know that, for now, I am not unwanted. A faint light glimmers.
1:34 pm - I am eating cheesecake and pickles at Junior's. I'm not pregnant. I am Brooklyn.
3:26 pm - DISCHAAAARGED! Huge group of us not allowed to judge our peers for the next eight years.
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