tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85591107536020726032024-03-13T06:42:26.083-04:00pretty blue salwarBluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.comBlogger575125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-33389281322656239732008-04-19T09:13:00.001-04:002008-04-19T09:15:09.917-04:00Bluelightful.comI can has domain name!!!!!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bluelightful.com/">www.bluelightful.com</a> will take you right to my new blog; no need to rack your brain for Cole Porter lyrics.<br /><br />This was a gift from a friend who is more than awesome.<br /><br />THANK YOU.<br /><br />When I get the for-real job, I promise I will find a way to give back, or to "pay it forward," as it were.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-16839462775126143352008-04-18T18:06:00.002-04:002008-04-18T18:08:45.674-04:00New Travels, New Title, New BlogI've packed up and shifted my blogging home over to <a href="http://www.bluelightfulblueliciousbluelovely.blogspot.com">Bluelightful, Bluelicious, Bluelovely</a>.<br /><br />Please update bookmarks/site feeds as appropriate.<br /><br />I hope all of the readers who have traveled with me here at PrettyBlueSalwar will join me at my new home!Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-84022620083681956312008-04-18T13:37:00.001-04:002008-04-18T13:39:18.967-04:00New Blog Going Up Tonite... and not a moment too soon.<br /><br />Watch this space for the URL, if you haven't figured it out already. ^__^Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-69417900278920168822008-04-15T18:18:00.003-04:002008-04-15T18:18:58.181-04:00Blog Transfer StatusBlog transfer is... more and more complete. 100% coming soon.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-439477590214626922008-04-14T17:51:00.003-04:002008-04-14T18:13:08.615-04:00The Clothes Problem AgainI was late to class today. Not by much (the university clocktower was striking 11:00 as I ran into the building) but late nonetheless.<br /><br />I was late because I didn't have anything to wear.<br /><br />I didn't buy spring/summer clothes last year. While I was still in the US, I survived temping by cycling through three pairs of polyester slacks alternated with about five work-appropriate blouses. There was no air-conditioning in my apartment, so I would come home and strip to a pair of gym shorts and a tank top.<br /><br />In India, I bought seven blue salwars (and one purple one -- and received one orange salwar and one silver salwar as gifts).<br /><br />Long story short, there's not much in my closet that's appropriate to wear -- especially to teach -- on a warm spring day. All the temp-clothes have long worn thin. I have tried to rock a kurta over jeans, but even that just looks faded and limp, a reminder that all of my India clothes (and, in fact, all of my jeans) spent three months being <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-am-my-own-dhobi.html">washed and wrung out in a five-gallon bucket</a>.<br /><br />When I did slip into the large lecture hall, late and miserably shabby, one of the other TAs leaned over and whispered to me "don't worry, I still think you look hot."<br /><br />In preparation for the upcoming move, I have started selling off seven years' worth of accumulated textbooks; I went to the theatre building lounge with a few large (and heavy) boxes, set up a makeshift display, and within the first day made $139. If I sell them all I'll have around $220. I had hoped to save the money for the move, but some of it may have to go toward clothes.<br /><br />We will see.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-85499728707376455952008-04-13T16:54:00.003-04:002008-04-13T17:06:57.152-04:00BombayGirl's Meme<a href="http://littletortoise.wordpress.com">BombayGirl</a> tagged me with the following meme:<br /><br /><blockquote>First, the rules:<br /><em>- Post the rules on your blog.<br />- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.<br />- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.<br />- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.</em></blockquote><em></em>Let's do #1 and #2 and call it a day, 'k? ^__^<br /><br />Six non-important things about me:<br /><br />1. Right now, I'm doing my laundry.<br /><br />2. Also right now, I'm selling off seven years' worth of textbooks on Facebook. So far I've made $20, which is fantastic. If I sell them all, I'll make about $200.<br /><br />3. In a moment, I am going to go to the grocery store and purchase the following items:<br /><ul><li>Garbage bags (store brand)</li><li>Antibacterial hand soap (store brand)</li><li>Conditioner (Garnier Length and Strength)</li><li>Peanut butter (store brand)</li><li>Strawberry preserves (store brand)</li><li>Two loaves whole-wheat bread (store brand)<br /></li><li>Frozen broccoli (store brand)</li><li>Frozen "whatever other vegetable looks good" (store brand)</li><li>Potatoes</li></ul>(<a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com/offconsumption/">Gaurav</a>, those are truly <a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com/offconsumption/necessity-or-not-a-list-of-what-i-bought-in-week-1-2/">the essentials</a>. ^__^ Will make enough sabzi for two weeks, and eat pbj otherwise.)<br /><br />4. Tonight, I get to watch my favorite two hours of television: The Simpsons, King of the Hill, American Dad, and Family Guy. (I'll cook the sabzi during American Dad, because it's usually pretty awful.) <br /><br />5. I've seen every episode of The Simpsons, or at least I think I have. One of these days I'll have to go through and check them off to make sure I haven't missed any.<br /><br />6. The dryer's buzzing. GTG!Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com124tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-5641326798639317632008-04-13T16:50:00.000-04:002008-04-13T16:51:17.673-04:00The Great Blog Transfer...... is coming.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-34914427145458914092008-04-10T00:11:00.003-04:002008-04-10T00:35:33.971-04:00Blue's Day... 'cause they're all the same now. ^__^<br /><br />8:30 a.m.: Alarm rings on cell phone. Hit snooze. Cat begins climbing on chest, arms, face. Cat begins kneading various parts of body. Mmmmm... free massage.<br /><br />8:45 a.m.: Snooze goes off, cat leaps from bed. I follow, a little more slowly. Use toilet, feed and water cat, make cup of tea.<br /><br />9:00 a.m.: Open up laptop and load up new episode of <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/04/shah-rukh-out-hugh-laurie-in.html">House, M.D</a>. Unfurl yoga mat. Sip tea. Work teh yogas while listening to House make sexy, smartass comments. Intersperse positions with sips of tea.<br /><br />9:45 a.m.: House episode ends, hit shower. Kitty likes to join me in the shower -- not in the actual shower itself, but nearby, breathing the steam. I let her do her thing.<br /><br />10:00 a.m.: End shower, get dressed, makeup, etc.<br /><br />10:10 a.m.: Dry hair.<br /><br />10:20 a.m.: Microwave packet of instant oatmeal. While oatmeal is nuking, grab sabzi from freezer and whip together a PB&J.<br /><br />10:22 a.m.: Eat instant oatmeal while checking email, Facebook, and Google Reader.<br /><br />10:35 a.m.: Turn head upside down. Brush hair. Flip head backwards (my hair now smacks against the ceiling fan when I do this). Grab claw clip. Secure hair so it does not fall in face.<br /><br />10:40 a.m.: Fill backpack, grab sabzi and sandwich, pour some Crystal Light "Immunity" (featuring vitamins A, C, B, and B12) into my reusable glass waterbottle, pet kitty, check three times to make sure my space heater is turned off, leave house.<br /><br />10:45 a.m.: Seriously. Leave the house. I'm going to be late.<br /><br />10:47 a.m.: Drive to campus in manner of <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=ybD0KeBaK_M">Annette Bening's character from <span style="font-style: italic;">American Beauty</span></a>, singing loudly to whatever 1930s/1940s American standards I've got in the CD player. On a good day I can hit all the words in <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=NbzylrqJ2nw">Mandy Patinkin's rendition of "It Only Happens When I Dance With You"</a> (it's at 4:08).<br /><br />11:00 a.m.: Teach, followed by class, followed by rehearsal.<br /><br />11:00 p.m.: Return home.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-27674733073265997902008-04-08T19:07:00.004-04:002008-04-08T19:16:23.980-04:00We Just Figured Out Blue's FoodI can get <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-just-figured-out-blues-shoes.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">so much mileage</span></a> out of that post title. ^__^<br /><br />My roommate, tired of her food getting "lost" behind, say, a gallon of milk and not being discovered again until it had started to smell, decided last night that we should separate out our food by shelf. <br /><br />Our refrigerator looked pretty full to begin with; but as it turns out, 90% of the stuff in there is actually hers.<br /><br />When I separated my food out onto its shelf, I discovered I had the following inventory:<br /><br />1 jar peanut butter (store brand)<br />1 jar strawberry preserves (store brand)<br />1/2 loaf whole wheat bread (store brand)<br />Almost-empty squeezy jar of mustard (store brand)<br />1 jar lime-ginger pickle (Priya brand)<br />1 block sharp cheddar cheese (store brand)<br />1/2 block sharp cheddar cheese (it was a 2-for-1 sale)<br /><br />Admittedly, in the freezer I have enough sabzi and gobi aloo to last another ten days, and a giant "family-size" bag of brussels sprouts which I portion out and eat along with my PBJ or cheese sandwiches.<br /><br />I also have half a box of pancake mix sitting on top of the refrigerator, along with some instant oatmeal that I am not actually going to eat because I discovered too late that "sugar free" actually meant "coated in aspartame," and I can't stand the taste.<br /><br />If the sabzi contains broccoli, potatoes, chickpeas, and green-and-yellow beans, and the gobi aloo contains... well, gobi and aloo... <span style="font-style: italic;">am I getting a balanced diet?</span>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-78422005336478677932008-04-06T23:32:00.003-04:002008-04-06T23:51:49.969-04:00Shah Rukh Out, Hugh Laurie In!Yep. My re-entry into American culture is 100% complete.<br /><br />I've stopped dreaming about Bollywood actors.<br /><br /><a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/02/this-time-hes-aerospace-engineer.html">SRK, you were lovely</a>, really you were, but things with you were getting a little... repetitive. I mean, your smile's still great, the way you toss that lock of hair off of your forehead before you prepare to start a musical number about your love of whatever holiday your particular film centers around is still... I mean, it's charming as always. Sexy, even. I still enjoy being around you. We can still hang out. <br /><br />I think it was the whole <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/10/lolsrk.html">abs thing</a> that turned me off, honestly. To tell you the truth, I'm concerned that you might have an eating disorder. Or maybe a steroid dependency. And I know that I should be there, supporting you as you go through whatever psychological problem caused all this <a href="http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail77.html">ab-abbing</a>, but... um, I'm just not that strong. Which is my thinly-veiled way of saying "I don't care all that much."<br /><br />Because this new guy has started appearing in my dreams. I didn't mean for it to happen. I just wanted something to watch on <a href="http://www.hulu.com">Hulu</a> while I did my <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/04/ascetics-invented-yoga-cause-they-were.html">yoga</a>. We were just meeting for fun. He was<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blackadder"> someone I knew from when I was a kid</a>. Someone I hadn't seen in years. I never thought... but he was so fresh and new, and let's face it, he's a lot smarter than you are.<br /><br />And now he's the first thing I think of when I get out of bed in the morning. Probably because the first thing I do when I get out of bed in the morning (after feeding the cat) is yoga, but let's not talk about when and where we meet. That's none of your business.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sepiamutiny.com/sepia/archives/004796.html">Did Kal Penn tell you?</a> Don't look at me like that, I know you all have a network. <br /><br />No, you don't need to know his name. Or his television program. Just... stay out of our lives, okay?<br /><br />Oh, but if you ever do another movie with K-Jo, call me.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-35670414593894274202008-04-05T12:38:00.002-04:002008-04-05T13:02:39.985-04:00An Open Letter To Barack ObamaDear Senator Obama,<br /><br />When I received an email from you (yes, from you directly, not from "The Obama Campaign" or anything like that) inviting me to apply for an Obama Organizing Fellowship, I was thrilled.<br /><br />First of all, I was thrilled that you had even thought to ask <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span> to apply in the first place. Secondly, I was very excited about the opportunity to potentially work on your campaign, thanks to the generosity of your Fellowship Program.<br /><br />I'll tell you; I seriously considered applying, even though I knew that fellowships didn't tend to pay much and that it would mean living in penury a while longer. I would continue eating cheese-and-mustard sandwiches if it meant I got to work for you.<br /><br />Then I clicked on the link and discovered that your fellowships were, in fact, <a href="http://my.barackobama.com/page/s/fellowsapp">unpaid</a>. They also required a minimum of 30 hours/week time commitment. <br /><br />Senator Obama, you do realize that asking the young people of this country (as I assumed your fellowship was intended for students, since it was a summer program only) -- you do realize that asking the young people of this country to apply for unpaid, nearly full-time positions on your campaign will only appeal to a particular subset of applicants, don't you?<br /><br />Your Organizing Fellows will be a collection of the well-heeled, with a few kids here or there who are practically going bankrupt doing this and trying to hide it. <br /><br />The fact that you didn't at least offer minimum wage, that you didn't at all try to make this opportunity possible for the students who have to work through the summers, who can't make it on a full-time volunteer gig, breaks my heart.<br /><br />The fact that you are offering "fellowships" that in truth must be paid out by either the parents of these students or by the students' own credit cards and loans, astounds me.<br /><br />No doubt this kind of thing happens all the time; asking for campaign volunteers is no big deal, in fact, and I've got no problem with that.<br /><br />But you called it a fellowship, and insisted it be a full-time commitment. <br /><br />Next time, just call it an unpaid internship and have done with it. At least the poor students of America won't get their hopes up.<br /><br />Yours sincerely,<br /><br />BlueBluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-74221968427540300492008-04-02T23:51:00.002-04:002008-04-03T00:19:11.501-04:00Only One More Post About Money, I PromiseSo Gaurav at <a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com">Gauravonomics</a> has decided to go "off consumption" for a year. (His chronicle of the events can be found <a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com/offconsumption/">here</a>.)<br /><br />Unlike his predecessors <a href="http://www.noimpactman.com">No Impact Man</a> and the people at <a href="http://sfcompact.blogspot.com/">The Compact</a>, he's not giving up consumption for environmental reasons. He's doing it to gain "insights into what drives us to consume, or not, into the nature of consumption, into human nature itself."<br /><br />Oh, and he's crossing his fingers for a book deal. ^__^<br /><br />I support his choice while at the same time part of me goes "What's so special about not buying stuff? Hundreds of thousands of people already know what it's like to pass by a restaurant or store window and not be able to go in, <a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com/offconsumption/my-insatiable-craving-for-mcdonalds-paneer-salsa-wrap/">even though you really want to</a>."<br /><br />Part of me, truth be told, is jealous. I should have rewritten <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-which-blue-adds-up-numbers-and.html">these past few months of enforced frugality</a> as an "off-consumption" experiment and tried to net me a book deal.<br /><br />But, as Gaurav notes, actual poverty is different from "giving up buying." <a href="http://www.gauravonomics.com/offconsumption/why-didnt-you-tell-me-you-had-financial-problems/">Today</a> he offered the interesting observation:<br /><blockquote>Actually, if I did have financial problems, I probably wouldn’t have been able to turn my frugality into a public performance. Only because I feel secure, in terms of both money and status, I can be confident enough to do it.</blockquote>The moral seems to be: when you're poor, you do what you can to appear better-off, even if it negatively affects your cash flow (e.g. buying interview clothes on credit for a job that may or may not materialize). <br /><br />When you're financially comfortable, as Gaurav and No Impact Man are (No Impact Man allowed his wife to spend $1,000 on <span style="font-style: italic;">two pairs of shoes</span> before the experiment began, to make up for the lack of shopping to follow), then frugality becomes a <span style="font-style: italic;">statement</span> which can be worn proudly.<br /><br />Gaurav, I await the riposte. ^__^<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-47617303170214625172008-04-02T23:19:00.002-04:002008-04-02T23:49:09.963-04:00Ascetics Invented Yoga 'Cause They Were PoorI'm busy. I start teaching at 11 a.m. and end my theatre rehearsals at 10:30 p.m. The days seem to blur into one another; despite our progress both in class and in rehearsal, it feels like I am doing, over and over, the same thing.<br /><br />Thus: the busier I get with school/work-related activity, the more important it seems to be that I have some kind of alternate creative outlet, something wildly different than what I am doing the rest of the overstuffed week.<br /><br />Last year at this time, it was <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/search/label/cooking">cooking</a>. Up through about February, it was still cooking -- but around the beginning of the year, something started to change. <br /><br />At first I thought I was imagining things, but then <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120700801699678747.html?mod=hps_us_inside_today">the WSJ confirmed it</a>: grocery prices have skyrocketed. <br /><br />Milk has gone up by 26% and eggs have gone up by 24%. Grocery stores have tried to entice shoppers by cutting prices in other areas, but, as the WSJ notes:<br /><br /><p class="times"></p><blockquote><p class="times">At a Wal-Mart Supercenter in a northern suburb of Chicago, the price of a box of Little Debbie Frosted Donuts was recently reduced to $1.50 from $1.63 while a box of Sunbelt Oats & Honey granola bars was cut to $1.66 from $1.80.</p> <p class="times">But even with the promotions, the price of a basket of goods selected by Credit Suisse researchers at a Chicago Wal-Mart was up 2.5% in February compared with January.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>The basket price of a <a class="times rolloverQuote" href="http://online.wsj.com/quotes/main.html?type=djn&symbol=tgt" onmouseover="window.status=(' Quotes & Research for TGT');return true" onmouseout="window.status=('');return true">Target</a> Corp. store in Chicago was up 2% and that of a <a class="times rolloverQuote" href="http://online.wsj.com/quotes/main.html?type=djn&symbol=kr" onmouseover="window.status=(' Quotes & Research for KR');return true" onmouseout="window.status=('');return true">Kroger</a> Co.'s Food4Less store in Chicago was down 0.1%.</p></blockquote><p class="times"></p><br />Since January 2008, I have purchased milk <span style="font-style: italic;">once</span>: a quarter-gallon to make the <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/finally-another-cooking-post-about.html">quiche</a>, and it was an <span style="font-style: italic;">event</span>. I've purchased eggs twice this year, I believe. <br /><br />I eat a lot of lentils and spinach, and when there was a sale on vegetables at the Kroger, bought a bunch and made enough sabzi to stock my freezer for a while.<br /><br />So what have I been doing instead? Yoga -- and I've become obsessed. Obsessed to the point where I kind of plan my meetings around ensuring I will get an hour-long yoga break <span style="font-style: italic;">at some point</span> during the day.<br /><br />I started out doing a session in the afternoons, before rehearsal; then switched to the mornings, then realized that on certain days I could do mornings <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> afternoons. I've gone online and drooled over videos of <a href="http://youtube.com/results?search_query=ashtanga&search_type=">ashtanga</a>, fantasizing about a day when I could take ashtanga classes because it's supposed to be <span style="font-style: italic;">the hardest yoga ever</span>, and learning it would be a superchallenge.<br /><br />Long story short, it finally hit me: the reason I've become so interested in yoga and exploring my physical endurance is because I, literally, have nothing else to explore. I have frugalized myself down to such an extent that the only thing left is my own body. Other forms of entertainment -- shopping, movies, going to bars, going to concerts, discovering new music, even cooking -- are all out, at least until I get a post-graduation job. <br /><br />On the plus side, I've got <span style="font-style: italic;">back abs</span>. I've never had back abs before. I suppose lack of income has its benefits. ^__^Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-74807841968981216812008-04-01T00:17:00.003-04:002008-04-01T11:29:59.558-04:00So I Did My Taxes...So I did my taxes.<br /><br />I earned just over $7,000 in 2007.<br /><br />And... um... <span style="font-style: italic;">lived on that.</span><br /><br />It was interesting to find out that working full-time for four months at my temp job (three months in summer, one month after I got back from India) netted me $4,800. Had I kept that job year-round, I guess I would have made about $14,400. That's... depressing.<br /><br />On the other hand, it would have essentially doubled my current salary (which, in addition to the temp job, includes my monthly graduate stipend). Considering my current lifestyle, I could have lived on $14,400 and managed to put money aside for savings. On $14,400, I could have had enough extra to buy a Wii. ^__^<br /><br />On the plus side, I'm getting about $900 back from the government (not counting the "economic stimulus package"). That'll be just enough to pay my student fees for this semester.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-8919239215661735692008-03-30T12:47:00.005-04:002008-03-30T13:10:44.408-04:00The Online Protest Idea's Becoming A Scholarly Project!Remember <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/02/is-online-mutiny-not-mutinous-enough.html">this post</a>?<br /><br />I was at a Holly Hughes lecture and talkback, and challenged a faculty member who said "students don't protest physically anymore" with the idea that online protesting and activism does as much, if not more, than previous physical campaigns; and that online protests allow people the safety of anonymity, so that they can retain their identities as students and workers without fear of recrimination.<br /><br />I just heard from a classmate (in another department) that he and a faculty member (in that department) realized that no one had done a formal study of online activism and its results vs. physical activism and its results; and that they were going to spend the next year working on that project, starting article-length, of course, but testing the waters to see if it's worth further study.<br /><br />That's so awesome. Also, I wish I were part of that project. Unfortunately I think my first goal right now has to be getting a paying job. ^__^Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-45569394643273876372008-03-29T19:35:00.002-04:002008-03-29T19:39:55.536-04:00More Short FictionFrom the same <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/short-fiction-on-undergraduate.html">"book:"</a><br /><br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>Annalie sat somewhere in the middle third of the lecture hall.<span style=""> </span>She was wedged inbetween the metal chair and its battered desk-like offspring, as well as inbetween her own backpack and the bags of the students on either side of her.<span style=""> </span>Having managed to pull the miniature pretend desk out of the metal arm of the immobile chair, she had discovered that it operated on a slant, which kept her heavy Physics textbook in continual danger of sliding down into her stomach.<span style=""> </span>She wondered where she would find the room to take notes, should notes ever become necessary.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>Note-taking, however, wasn’t very important at the moment.<span style=""> </span>Annalie was in the 10:00 section of PHY 101, “Physics and You.”<span style=""> </span>The electronic registration program Annalie had worked with over the summer had suggested PHY 101 as an ideal way to fulfill part of her general education science requirement, and Annalie’s father had suggested that it was best to get all of the gen-ed stuff out of the way as soon as possible.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>So Annalie sat, five minutes into the first class session of “Physics and You,” listening to the instructor explain the course syllabus.<span style=""> </span>She wasn’t quite sure why the professor wasn’t really a professor but rather a graduate student who looked down at the overhead projector as he read his own syllabus aloud, and she wondered vaguely why he didn’t trust any of them to be able to read it on their own.<span style=""> </span>Annalie had already been to a music history class earlier that morning, and the professor had started them right away on a discussion of the differences between music and other forms of organized sound; now Annalie was stuck in “Physics and You,” listening to a shaky-voiced graduate student explain the attendance policy.<span style=""> </span>College was strange, and – in Annalie’s mind – inconsistent.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>Annalie could feel a slight breeze coming from one of the open windows.<span style=""> </span>She ached to go outside.<span style=""> </span>She had spent most of her free time outside when not busy with the demands of Orientation Week, wandering all around the campus.<span style=""> </span>She had gotten Danielle to go with her once or twice, but it seemed like whenever she stuck her head into anyone’s dorm room, they were either logged onto their computer or attached to their cell phone.<span style=""> </span>Libby, in particular – Annalie could not even begin to describe how disappointed she was about Libby.<span style=""> </span>She had never had a sister; only Chris, who teased her and who was too old to be a really good kind of friend (besides the fact that he was her brother, which made some kinds of friendship difficult), and although she had had several friends in high school (mostly other choir dorks like herself), she liked the novelty of having a very close, sister-type friend.<span style=""> </span>Someone she might actually be able to talk to.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>For a while Annalie had tried to count the number of words Libby had said to her, but somewhere around forty she lost count and stopped caring.<span style=""> </span>Libby’s mouth seemed to be continually moving, but none of her words were particularly directed towards Annalie.<span style=""> </span>They were directed towards Troy, Libby’s boyfriend, who went to the nearby state school and who was on Libby’s cell phone so often, it was as if he were pumping some kind of vital life force into her ear.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style=""> </span>Meanwhile, in “Physics and You” – Annalie had gotten distracted in her own thoughts – a real cell phone rang.<span style=""> </span>Half the students in the room bent down to fumble with their bags.<span style=""> </span>It played through a hyper-speed version of Pachebel’s Canon in D twice before its owner finally retrieved it and turned it off, tossing her permed hair over her shoulder and saying, for the benefit of everyone in the room, “Oh my god, oh my god, I’m <i>so</i> sorry.”<span style=""> </span>Annalie shifted in her seat as much as she could, then stopped her Physics book from exercising its rights to the law of gravity and pressing itself into her ribs.<span style=""> </span>The graduate student, irritated at the phone interruption, went back to describing his grading scale.<span style=""> </span>The breeze was becoming more and more imperceptible by the minute.</p> <p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> *******************</p><p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal">(Clearly I have not managed character delineation; while Miri and Anna have different backgrounds and personal struggles to resolve -- the whole book got outlined as part of the assignment -- they seem to have the same opinion and viewpoint on the gen ed experience. ^__^)<br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-62019318552784971382008-03-29T18:34:00.002-04:002008-03-29T18:52:30.309-04:00Short Fiction on the Undergraduate ExperienceContinuing the ideas from <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/process-v-product-classroom-edition.html">my last post</a>: the following is an excerpt from a project I did for an undergraduate "writing for teenagers" course. Our assignment was to write the first chapter of a book (not the book itself, mind you) which could be marketed to high-school students.<br /><br />My first chapter, incidentally, was determined to be too "complex" for teenagers to understand, and <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/audiences-references-and-benefits-of.html">was judged to contain "too many references."</a><br /><br />I'll let the story speak for itself. (It speaks best in Firefox; it'll look all jumbled in IE.)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">********************<br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;">When Miriam had been in sixth grade, her parents had let her attend a camp for young gifted students.<span style=""> </span>At the time, Miri had loved it; even the goofiness of the icebreakers and the other organized events like Pie Fight and Pajama Day.<span style=""> </span>Now, however, she felt ridiculous.</p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style=""> </span>She had just finished writing in her journal about Orientation Week, the oddly-chosen name for the four days before classes officially began in which first-year students were subjected to all kinds of team-building torture inbetween mini-seminars on important details such as <i>How to Use the Library</i>.<span style=""> </span>The 120 residents of Bryson Hall had all had to run through an obstacle course, sing the Name Game Song, and then sit quietly while a university staff member explained to them how their meal plan worked.<span style=""> </span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style=""> </span>Miri hadn’t known exactly what to expect, but she hadn’t expected <i>this</i>.<span style=""> </span>She had, she supposed, expected something along the lines of <i>Dead Poets’ Society</i>, where intimidatingly charming professors engaged bright young intellectuals in stimulating discourse about life, truth, and the hidden secrets of literature.</p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style=""> </span>Of course, <i>Dead Poets’ Society</i> was actually about a prep school.<span style=""> </span></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style=""> </span>This, however, had never appeared in any movie or book about college life that Miri could remember – the experience of being told how to do everything, from using an online card catalog (with which Miri was already rather familiar) to making new friends (Risa had already divided the third floor into clusters, and at the end of each day the clusters met for a few moments to talk about their experiences and play more goofy games).<span style=""> </span>In the meanwhile, there seemed to be continual candy.<span style=""> </span>The RAs were practically plying them with candy.<span style=""> </span>In cluster meetings, every time a resident was able to call anyone else by her correct name, Risa threw that person a Tootsie Pop or a Mini-Snickers.<span style=""> </span>Candy and ice cream and freezer pops – it was still much too warm in the un-airconditioned dormitory.</p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"><span style=""> </span>Miri was baffled, and more than disappointed.<span style=""> </span>She had applied to college, but found herself back in summer camp.</p><br /><div style="text-align: center;">**************<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />(Yes, before anyone asks, she's got the same name as my cat. ^__^)<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-3099405488760297452008-03-27T19:04:00.005-04:002008-03-28T19:08:52.085-04:00Process V. Product: Classroom Edition!While I was directing <span style="font-style: italic;">Tempest</span> in Hyderabad, I wrote a few posts about the idea of process vs. product. We know, for example, that <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/09/process-vs-product.html">"process-based" rehearsals are often more fun</a>, but that <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-what-about-audience.html">"product-based" rehearsals often yield better results for an audience</a>.<br /><br />(For the uninitiated: "process-based" refers to a system which allows the actors in a performance to create "freely," without any fear of being right or wrong; while "product-based" refers to a system which focuses on eliminating certain choices in favor of better ones, and, while not necessarily dividing things into right/wrong, requires a director to say the dreaded word "no" to an actor -- often many, many times.)<br /><br />I'm going to write about process v. product in terms of my current theatre production shortly, but right now I want to focus on the idea of process v. product in the classroom.<br /><br />As a TA, I generally get a section or two of "Introduction to Theatre" every semester. It's the typical American gen-ed course, in which students are exposed to the barest fundamentals of a subject in the name of furthering liberal education.<br /><br />Like many gen-ed courses in the humanities, this Intro class follows an almost entirely process-based method of teaching (and grading). Effort counts more than result, and participation is valued over content. Papers are graded on whether they answered every question in the prompt, but not on what those answers actually <span style="font-style: italic;">are</span>.<br /><br />(Incidentally, even though our students were told, repeatedly, that their grade was based on whether or not they addressed every question in the prompt, many wrote papers which did not answer -- or even hint at -- one or more of the questions. Baffling.)<br /><br />Just as a process-based play is easier to direct, a process-based class is much easier to teach. Everyone feels great, lots of people get As, good times are had by all.<br /><br />However, today I spent a few hours grading my students' "ten-minute play assignment." (The assignment was... um... to write a ten-minute play.) Because they fulfilled the structure of the assignment (they had characters, speaking some dialogue, with some stage directions) I sat and wrote "nice job! 100%!" on student plays which were, in fact, dismal.<br /><br />I wished I had the time to sit down with my students and talk to them about what makes a successful play; how to create conflict between characters, how to create believable rising action, how to build to an appropriate climax and resolution. Even more than that, I wanted to talk to them about the very nature of storytelling. Why do we tell stories? What differentiates a story from, say, an anecdote -- or from a description of an event? (Many of these plays were just that: descriptions. Two guys sitting in a dorm room talking about girls and sports and cars for ten pages. No conflict, no momentum.)<br /><br />I know that the assignment was pure process-based, intended to give students an idea of what playwrights do by having them write a play -- <span style="font-style: italic;">but if the product they turned in wasn't actually a play, then did they really learn anything by going through the process?<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span>But we don't have time to teach them how to really write a play, because next week we're moving on to acting, then directing, then design...<br /><br />I remember being infuriated at this when I took gen ed courses as an undergrad. I recognized all these easy-peasy courses as simulacrum of the real thing, and I wanted the real deal. I didn't want "Physics and You;" I wanted physics. Eventually, I gave up and decided I wanted to play <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EarthBound">Earthbound</a> (and write a three-act opera based on <span style="font-style: italic;">Les Liaisons Dangereuses</span>), and became grateful for any gen ed course easy enough to require no mental effort.<br /><br />I know <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/03/zut-alors-trouble-with-university.html">I've written about this before on this blog</a>, but this whole thing... makes me sad. It also makes me feel like a really bad teacher.<br /><br />People have been telling me, throughout my entire university career, that I need to spend less time worrying about product and more time experiencing the process. "Put that intellect aside; roll around in the unknown!" Lord knows I tried. I gave up what I knew made sense, and I rolled. But as I approach the end of my graduate career, I'm becoming more and more infuriated with anything that doesn't actually connect process to product. Let's lay it on the line, team: some products are better than others. How do we create them? How do we teach people to create them? That, at the end of all this, seems to be what's important.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-35894682619698221722008-03-27T00:28:00.002-04:002008-03-27T00:46:15.736-04:00What's In A Blog Name?I've been thinking, lately, about the name of this blog.<br /><br />When the blog began, it was a travelogue; the name "pretty blue salwar" came, in part, from an idea expressed in Madhur Jaffrey's <span style="font-style: italic;">Climbing the Mango Trees</span>:<br /><br /><em></em><blockquote><em>Kamal returned with suitcases full of fashionable gifts for all of us. I received a pair of pedal pushers and a black-and-white-striped T-shirt that practically became my uniform. She also presented me with a light tartan shawl and a sterling silver charm bracelet with the Eiffel Tower dangling from it. [...] I had yet to see the rest of the world, but, already armed with a pair of pedal pushers, the charm bracelet, and the Coke, I felt that phase of my life had to be just around the corner. </em>(Jaffrey 237, 240)</blockquote>I had yet to see the rest of the world, but, armed with a blue salwar I bought on eBay...<br /><br />Now the name is no longer representative of the purpose of the blog. Not, perhaps, that the blog <span style="font-style: italic;">has</span> a purpose. I still stand by <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2007/11/pretty-blue-salwar-version-20.html">my post-trip statement</a> that I will continue blogging because "life is a continuous travelogue" (and, of course, because I enjoy blogging and enjoy meeting new people via blogging). But, even if my blog is about life-experienced-as-journey, it isn't, anymore, about a pretty blue salwar.<br /><br />The other drawback of the blog's current name is that, every once in a while, it draws people who aren't aware of its original purpose and who see these random posts by a white woman in a salwar and then tell me what a horrible person I am for exotifying Indian clothing.<br /><br />It seems at this point I have three options:<br /><br />1. Keep the blog's name as it is; possibly put something on the "About Me" section explaining the title.<br /><br />2. Change the name of the blog, but keep the "prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com" URL.<br /><br />3. Start an entirely new blog with a new name: Blue Ink, Bluewords, BlueBlog, Blue's Clues, etc.<br /><br />The problem with the last option is that I would seem to lose all of the relationships I had built since I started blogging. At the least, I would lose my Technorati ranking (which isn't that big to begin with, but...). On the other hand, people who are currently following this blog could easily switch their bookmark or RSS to its new URL/feed. I wouldn't change my handle, and would continue to post on all of your blogs as Blue.<br /><br />It would be... like moving to a new house, and sending round a forwarding address.<br /><br />What do you think? Should I move away from the salwar association and start a new blog under a less contentious name? Or is the salwar still pretty enough to wear, even though I'm no longer a world traveler?Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com82tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-32574767035959382752008-03-25T15:02:00.000-04:002008-03-25T16:02:09.130-04:00I Want To Be A Consumer... But Not A DestroyerLast week my graduate class had a special guest: one of the original founders of our theatre department.<br /><br />Prior to his lecture, he wanted to get to know a bit about the current class of grad students, and went around to all of us asking about our backgrounds, what kind of theatre we liked, and where we hoped to direct after graduation.<br /><br />I was the last to respond, hoping that he might skip me or something. After all, there were the other grad students saying things like "I'm going to start a theatre company in rural America and provide art to people who don't otherwise get that experience," or "I'm going to go to New York and take my chances in the big leagues!"<br /><br />But he didn't skip me. "You're in your final semester? Congratulations! What do you plan to do after you graduate?"<br /><br />I didn't let my voice waver for a minute. "I'm going to relocate to a major city, probably the DC area, and transfer my talents to a job in a private industry. I'd love something in PR or Events Management."<br /><br />"Oh," he said. "Why not theatre?"<br /><br />And then I got a little chicken. The truth is, I know enough about my skills to know that, while I am a competent director on my own merits, I am in no way set up for the competitive theatre world, nor do I want to spend my time working crap jobs and doing one of the "next step" options: assistant directing "for the experience," trying to start an unpaid theatre company, etc.<br /><br />But I didn't say "I'm getting out of the theatre because I'm not good enough."<br /><br />I said "I feel like I've become disconnected from the world, and I need to spend some time back in the world before I direct my next piece."<br /><br />Which was probably an even dumber thing to say, because his next response was a very disappointed "Theatre... makes you feel disconnected?"<br /><br />And as soon as he said it, I realized my response was truer than I realized. Theatre <span style="font-style: italic;">does</span> make me feel disconnected from the world. It shouldn't, but it does. For three reasons:<br /><br />1. The theatre artist's schedule is generally "work (or take/teach classes) all day, rehearse all night." The environment quickly becomes insular and restricting.<br /><br />2. 90% of the plays performed in America, at both the educational and professional levels, are revivals of "classics." Often, directors attempt to spin these plays so that they have a contemporary relevance, but... putting <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry V</span> in modern dress so people will be reminded of the Bush administration is barely groundbreaking. All of the productions of <span style="font-style: italic;">Henry V</span> in the past eight years don't have the impact of a single showing of <span style="font-style: italic;">Fahrenheit 9/11</span>.<br /><br />3. Due to both schedule and monetary restrictions ('cause we don't make any money), the theatre artist cannot fully participate in the world around her.<br /><br />And that's what I really want, and I didn't even realize it until I said it. I want to be a <span style="font-style: italic;">participant</span>. I don't want to live like the former child Blue, reading her parents' copies of <span style="font-style: italic;">Newsweek</span> to memorize details about film and literature (and yes, theatre) that she was thousands of miles too far away to ever see; nor do I want to live like starving artist Blue, in Minneapolis and surrounded by culture and opportunity but too underemployed to afford any of it.<br /><br />I want to be a participant. More than that, I want to be a <span style="font-style: italic;">consumer</span>. This isn't a popular statement to make, in lieu of environmental concerns, but I don't mean that I want to be wasteful, or consume beyond my needs.<br /><br />I don't want a lot of shoes, but I want to be able to replace my shoes when there are holes in the soles. (While I had the foot cast on, I spent the entire six weeks wearing a shoe with a big hole in it because that was the only one which matched the sole height of the foot-cast boot.) I don't want to buy a lot of overpackaged, overprocessed food, but I do want to have money to socialize with friends in restaurants.<br /><br />I want to take a yoga class. I want to find time to volunteer for something interesting and worthwhile (which I kind of did already -- just signed up for the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Democracy_Project">American Democracy Project</a>). If I make it to DC, I'm definitely finding some way of volunteering for Team Obama.<br /><br />I also want to get a little closer to current technology. I have a secret fantasy of being able to become an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Early_adopter">early adopter</a>, but I know it will take a few income-level jumps before I get to that stage. Right now I don't even have a phone that takes photographs. ^__^<br /><br />Long story short, I want to be a participant in the world, not an observer. And theatre, as enjoyable as it is, makes me feel disconnected.<br /><br />Which is strange, because historically theatre people are supposed to be the types who are engaged with the world and use their talents to spur social change. Did that stop happening, outside of theatre textbooks? Or... has it all been transferred to YouTube?Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-8530022966779913202008-03-22T21:20:00.002-04:002008-03-22T21:38:54.283-04:00Blue's Body Betrays HerWhatever I've got... don't get it. <br /><br />Officially, it's bronchitis. But... damn. This thing is wiping me out.<br /><br />When I'm not in class or at rehearsal, I'm sleeping. I can't take two steps w/o coughing. <br /><br />And -- tragedy of all tragedies -- I can't do yoga. <br /><br />This from a person <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/02/broken-toed-yoga.html">who was still doing yoga with a friggin' cast on her foot</a>, modifying positions as necessary, including a full quota of <a href="http://www.iemily.com/article-842.html">"girl push-ups"</a> ('cause I couldn't do the regular kind with the cast), which aren't yoga but are evidently the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/11/health/nutrition/11well.html?scp=1&sq=push-up&st=nyt">best indicator of physical fitness</a> out there.<br /><br />It's been eleven days since I first fell ill (and fell quickly, too -- was watching a movie with my sister and felt fine at the beginning, but ended up feverish, shaking, and coughing by the end). Two days ago I thought I was well enough to try yoga again, if for no other reason than mild physical activity seemed like it might help speed up the recovery. (I also get cranky when I don't exercise.)<br /><br />So I raised my arms above my head to start a sun salutation... and set off a fit of coughing.<br /><br />I bent over to touch my toes and set off another fit of coughing. <br /><br />Etc. <br /><br />Evidently movement = coughing (even stretching = coughing), which makes exercise a problem.<br /><br />Which means that I am very, very cranky right now.<br /><br />My body has also betrayed me recently in terms of its rapid hair growth; very nice when it's on my head, less so everywhere else. <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/blues-product-placement-sally-hansen.html">Sally Hansen promised me</a> I would be hair-free for five to eight weeks; I was hair-free for less than two. The waxing job lasted for exactly thirteen days; stubble started turning up about the same time I caught the bronch. Now I'm all fuzzy again.<br /><br />'Cause bending over to shave... starts a coughing fit.<br /><br />*facepalms... then coughs.*Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-65134347142355155012008-03-17T23:56:00.002-04:002008-03-17T23:58:18.681-04:00srsly. 2 sick 2 blog.or 2 spl.<br /><br />been sick since Tuesday evening of last week. nearly all dc plans canceled. still sick.<br /><br />ttyl.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-16716839680657689712008-03-12T16:44:00.012-05:002008-03-12T17:25:31.804-05:00Audiences, References, and the Benefits of Getting A YouTube Video Six Days Later!Wow. Nearly a week after I tried to get YouTube to embed this video onto the blog, it shows up!<br /><br />Here's <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/audiences-references-and-benefits-of.html">the related post</a>.<br /><div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p><object height="350" width="425"><param value="http://youtube.com/v/hrLjLeGUjio" name="movie"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://youtube.com/v/hrLjLeGUjio" height="350" width="425"></embed></object></p></div>Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-42815895595931791902008-03-11T18:41:00.003-05:002008-03-11T21:26:52.086-05:00What's Up With Apple?About four months ago, I had my first ever <a href="http://store.apple.com/1-800-MY-APPLE/WebObjects/AppleStore.woa">Apple Store</a> experience. A friend took me in to the Apple Store Chicago, and at first I was all "why are we going into this computer store?" and then I found that it was filled with wonderful toys that you could touch and play with and cheerful staff who greeted us upon arrival and ran around happily explaining the features of each Mac product even before we had to ask. "Have you tried tapping the iPhone? Have you tried tapping it <span style="font-style: italic;">twice</span>?"<br /><br />Today, as I had promised to do <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/want-to-join-will-it-last-laptop-pool.html">in an earlier post</a>, I went back to the Apple Store -- this time the DC version.<br /><br />But this time it was not at all the same.<br /><br />First of all, no one greeted me when I came in the door. In fact, no one noticed me. I tried to flag down an employee, but I couldn't tell who any of them were. Finally I figured out that they were the scruffy, kind of desultory-looking people wearing dark blue shirts. They were all busy either behind a register or at the <a href="http://www.apple.com/retail/geniusbar/">Genius Bar</a>; a few were on the floor, but they were assisting other customers.<br /><br />So I found a computer and signed up for a Personal Shopper, since I assumed that was why some of the other customers had helpers. The next time slot was fifteen minutes away. The computer said that my name would be called when it was my turn, so I decided to settle in and start playing with the toys.<br /><br />The second thing that troubled me was that very few of the toys were turned on. The majority of the laptops and iPhones weren't connected to the internet, and none of the iPods had sample earbuds attached. I found the single working iPhone and poked at it for a few minutes, but it wasn't all that fun.<br /><br />My appointment time came and went, and no one called my name. No one called <span style="font-style: italic;">anyone's</span> names. I started trying to catch the eye of one of the employees. No one would look at me, although <a href="http://prettybluesalwar.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-just-figured-out-blues-shoes.html">a few people looked at my shoes</a>. Finally, twenty minutes after my appointment and almost an hour after I had arrived in the Apple Store, someone asked me if I needed some help.<br /><br />I mentioned that I had signed up for an appointment, and they were instantly apologetic, explaining that they were understaffed today... people had quit, some people hadn't shown up. In the end they hauled out one of the managers, who gave me a thorough tour of all of the laptops, but by then I felt pretty bad for him since I wasn't going to buy anything today anyway, and he knew it.<br /><br />We did have an interesting conversation, however, about the <a href="http://store.apple.com/1-800-MY-APPLE/WebObjects/AppleStore.woa/wa/RSLID?nnmm=browse&mco=7B72365F&node=home/shop_mac/family/macbook_air">MacBook Air</a>. The manager was explaining to me all the virtues of the itty-bitty super-slender Macbook Air, and how the only thing you had to buy to go along with it was the $400 external hard drive.<br /><br />"So I can't just... um... plug a thumb drive into this thing? Or any other external hard drive?" I asked.<br /><br />"No." He looked at me like I was an idiot. "You have to buy this one."<br /><br />Then I started asking "where's the speakers? where's the microphone jack? how do you burn a DVD on this thing?"<br /><br />As I expected, all the parts of a laptop you might want to use were sold separately, at $100-500 a pop. The MacBook Air itself was a glorified paperweight, and an insubstantial one at that. ^__^ (Yes, I am ready for all MacBook Air-lovers to attack.)<br /><br />"Do you see this as the future of laptops?" I asked my personal shopper. "In two years are they all going to be like this?"<br /><br />"Probably," he said.<br /><br />"You guys are brilliant," I said, winking. "Getting people to pay extra for all the stuff that used to come in a laptop for free."<br /><br />Of course, there are benefits to this model, namely that if one thing breaks, you don't have to replace the entire laptop. ^__^ So it isn't completely bad. In fact, having a laptop shell (or... um... <span style="font-style: italic;">eggshell</span>) that you can modify (and upgrade) as you want, pulling things in and out of the USB port as if it were a fast-processing Mr. Potato Head, probably will be beneficial -- and kinda cool -- in the end.<br /><br />Still: at the end of the day, my time in the Apple Store was surprising and a little depressing. Does anyone know if there's something up with Apple? I mean, a year ago it was one of the best places to work retail (in terms of employee creativity, status, and pay scale) and the employees were, for the most part, happy. But the employees I saw today were overstressed and, worse, undercoiffed. They didn't look healthy, they didn't look taken care of, and they didn't look happy to be there.<br /><br />Is it 'cause of the recession thing (is Apple, like everyone else, cutting back), or is there something else going on?Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8559110753602072603.post-49290390597934049362008-03-11T15:12:00.002-05:002008-03-11T15:52:43.497-05:00Notes from a DC TourHere are a few snapshots from my DC adventure:<br /><br />* Going into an interview and hearing "You put on your resume that you type 100 wpm. Is that really the truth, or aren't you exaggerating a bit?" "I've been clocked at 100," I say with a smile. "Well," my interviewer tells me, "we'll give you a chance to prove it." After the test is over he comes back, astonished. "98 wpm and not a single mistake!" <br /><br />* While I'm blitzing through the standard "prove you know Microsoft Office" tests, suddenly realizing that there are job interviews out there that don't require you to prove you can do a mail merge, and that later on this week, I'll be going on one of them. ^__^<br /><br />* En route to the <a href="http://store.apple.com/1-800-MY-APPLE/WebObjects/AppleStore.woa">Apple Store</a>, helping a group of very old, very giddy British ladies navigate the Metro -- from the turnstile to their eventual landing at <a href="http://www.simon.com/mall/default.aspx?ID=157">Fashion Centre</a>. No doubt they're here to take advantage of the falling dollar; one of them spends the entire Metro ride bursting out with little fits of happy "shopping, shopping, shopping!" Followed by "how many more stops?"<br /><br />* Taking a breather at the Fashion Centre food court (to rest my foot) next to a group of young people involved somehow with our military (couldn't tell whether they had yet gone to Iraq, but they were clearly the troops in "Support our Troops"). They were talking about other young people in the military they knew who had committed suicide. They knew a lot of people who had committed suicide, mostly after returning from Iraq. "It's usually the really young ones who do it," one of them said. "The ones who haven't started families yet." It was a very sad conversation.Bluehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13875686468126571113noreply@blogger.com2