Excerpts from Dinner with My Mom

Mom: I always accidentally bite my tongue when I eat. Is that an illness?
Me: No. It’s stupidity.

Mom: This guy at work asked for a raise. He said he’s embarrassed that he’s working full-time but still needs his family to help out financially. If he had just asked me for a raise by listing everything he contributes to the company, I would have probably said no.

Me: I need to ask for a raise. “I limit my nodding off strictly to afternoons. And sometimes the mornings. But I always wake up in time to answer the phone.”

Mom: That might work. Maybe your boss has a sense of humor.

Me: I’m serious. It’s what I do.

August 9th, 2004 | Tags: | Comments Off on

Speaking of fucking around with people, here’s a little trick to do if you’re ever hanging out in Los Angeles.

So let’s say, you’re hanging out at your favorite mall food court when in walks your favorite celebrity.

(For the sake of example, I’ll use the name “Tom.”)

You walk up to them, look surprised and then really joyous and say, “Tom! What’s up, man!”

[give him the Cool Brutha Handshake. No, not really.]

“Whatcho been up to?”

*the celebrity will respond joyously and pleasantly as he racks his brain, trying to figure out who you are. Inevitably, he’ll respond quickly, “Nothing much, how are you?”

“Nothing much.You know, same ol, same ol’. I haven’t seen you since that party up in the hills last year. You look GREAT! You still working out a lot?”

[small talk, small talk bullshit]

“Alright, listen, I’ve gotta run but it was great seeing you. Tell Mary Ann I said hi!”

***************

The key is to act like they should totally know you, like you’re an old friend and he’s the asshole for not remembering your name. If you pull off the confident, friendly, I’m so excited to run into you thing, you’ll see their face light up like they’re really happy to see you too, even though in their eyes, you can see they’re totally confused cuz they don’t know who the hell you are. And it’s also important for you to be the one who’s “gotta run,” cutting the conversation short. No more than a few minutes and a few pleasantries.

It’s kind of funny.

August 9th, 2004 | Comments Off on

I love Koko.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/5649239/?GT1=4529

I think the fact that we can teach a gorilla to communicate is amazing. Once that first step towards establishing a frame of reference for communication is made, everything else can fall into place. It’s that first step that sets up understanding that’s key. Like how European settlers were able to establish communication with the American Indians, which has always fascinated me. I know I’m obsessed with communication and its means and possibilities, but I feel like the same principles in which we can find a common ground of understanding between humans and a gorilla can be used in finding a common ground with autistic people, or those whose perceptions exist differently from the majority.

They say that my brother is an extraordinary case because he’s PDD but can understand the connection between emotion as the murky, amorphous shades of color, texture and feeling from within, and the two-dimensional symbols which they are represented by and referred to within communication. But it took a long time, and a lot of patience in trying to figure out what symbols meant to him and what meanings he attached to things, in order to flip that switch that made him understand what was represented by what. It all comes down to that first step, that first epiphany regarding relationships of symbols and what they represent, when we realize a=1, b=2, etc., forming some sort of constant for interpretation, then everything else can be deciphered.

By the way, English was created by idiots.

August 9th, 2004 | Comments Off on

My family was in town this weekend so the weekend was really tame. The highlights:

-we went to Irvine for my cousin Austin’s 6th birthday. We were playing a game he got, BeyBlades (?) where these spinning tops things have to knock each other out of a plastic ring. I told him that whoever loses 3 times has to do a lap around his street (he lives on a court so it’s not so bad). I lost so I had to do the lap. I told him I can run faster than Kobe and he didn’t believe me so he said he would time me. He insisted on counting “in his brain.” So I did the lap which took no more than 30 seconds and when I hit the “finish line,” he was totally impressed. He said, “Wow! You took…11 minutes. You ARE faster than Kobe.” Kids, man. I love kids.

-While my brother and I were waiting for my parents who were seeing a Chinese chiropractor, we found a Goodwill store. He got a $3 Bush CD (which I thought was overpriced for Bush) and I got 13 books for $7.96. God bless Goodwill.

-We met up with my mom’s friend and her son for lunch. Her son asked me how I like living in LA. I said, “I hate it.” My brother, enthusiastic to join the conversation, pipes up, “Oh I know why, Julia. It’s because 1. People are impatient. 2. They drive crazy. And 3. GAY.” I’m like, WHOA WHOA WHOA. NOT Number 3. I think he misunderstood me when we had driven through West Hollywood on our way to lunch and I was telling my parents how this was the center of the gay community and look…all those beautiful men…two by two…those amazing bodies……..*sigh*……..it makes me want to cry…… Sometimes I forget that I have to be very careful about the things I say around Michael because he’s so literal.

– I was sitting next to my mom during lunch. She’s not the most attentive person, so I kept taking things off her plate and eating them when she wasn’t looking, confusing her as to why her plate was empty when she’d just served herself something. At one point, she served herself a dumpling. She put it on her plate but was more engaged in the conversation with her friend, so while she was reaching to put the serving spoon back, I speared it and put it on my plate. She picked up her chopsticks and went for the dumpling; she looked at her empty plate, confused for a brief second before picking up the serving spoon and getting another one without really concerning herself with where her dumpling went. She put another one on her plate, her eyes fixed on her friend. As she was putting the serving spoon back, I speared the second dumpling from under her arm and put it on my plate. She put the serving spoon back and looked down to find her plate empty; I could tell she was confused and a little worried, wondering if she had actually gotten a dumpling or if she was in the midst of brain deterioration. Her friend asked her a question so her attention got pulled back into the conversation; she reached for the serving spoon and got another dumpling. She put it on her plate and I speared this one too, putting it on my plate as she put the serving spoon back. As she animatedly told her friend some gossip without looking down at her plate, I watched her absently poking her chopsticks at the place on her plate where the dumpling should have been, trying to pick it up without looking down. Finally she noticed that something was amiss and looked down to find her plate empty, and a mound of dumplings with stab wounds in the middle of mine.

August 9th, 2004 | Comments Off on