Another Saturday Night

Today was an interesting day. In fact, I've had a couple of interesting days. I feel like many days are a spattering of boredom/reflection/enlightenment. Take for instance, yesterday: I tutored an older student, had lunch with an old friend, went to an art opening, ate Kimchi, and managed to keep most of my wits about me despite a "misunderstanding" that is too tiresome to go into at this point. Okay, so there is very little boredom in that list, but I did have about thirty minutes in which I ate some of the delicious Moussaka I made the night before and watched Rachel Ray cook a thirty minute version of "cassoulet." She told me she bought her baguette that morning at the market, but I knew that some intern for the show probably bought it while she was in make-up. Seriously. I digress. The lunch with an old friend inspired a great deal of reflection, while the art show/kimchi/long story inspired a great deal of enlightenment. All in all it was a full day.

Now back to my original statement of "Today was an interesting day." Perhaps not quite as interesting as yesterday, but thought provoking enough for me, to say the least. I started by showing up late to help a friend move, and, in the end, just took some of her clothes home with me. Chatted with the room mate, then went to meet my mom for a fabulously satisfying X-files movie. I mean...I liked it. Afterwards, I was in great spirits, and my mom and I went for one of our favorite past times: Bra shopping. Tax free weekend! AND, joy of joys, Macy's was having a sale on bras. I could get four for the price of two with no sales tax! The only problem was, I couldn't find the bras I wanted in my size. I can't really explain what happened to me over the course of the two hours I was trapped in the Macy's "intimates" department, but it was not pretty. As I began to realize the absence of any bra I wanted in my size, I imagined toppling racks, screaming at the sales clerks, foaming at the mouth. And when I asked if they could check on the availability of a particular bra at other stores and was told there wasn't one available in my size at any store in THE STATE, my wild imaginings nearly became a reality. It was like Jekyll and Hyde, only...without the hat...or the tweed (he wore tweed, right? I mean, probably). I don't know why I became so emotional. I reverted back to age six (as my mother so poignantly pointed out to me), and I felt it coming. I could have shaken it off, but I didn't. I felt trapped. I looked into my bra shopping future and saw only a bitter acceptance of the bras I am allowed rather the ones I really really want. I realize I am currently speaking about bras. I am aware of the absurdity of the situation. I am baffled by my emotional incompetence.

Perhaps this is all a manifestation of the idealistic child in me coming to begrudging terms with the embittered adult in me. Things are not the way I thought they would be. Things are not the way we thought they would be. I'm referring to the personal and the political. The looming recession is yanking petals off of my flower power. My glorious country is different from what I thought it was as a child. It is full of people that don't want change, and people that don't understand the realities of, I don't know, the rest of the world. I have always believed that the United States was built on the dream of progress, but progress is relative really...isn't it? The student that I tutor is an older gentleman from Venezuela. He said to me Friday that there is so much wrong with this country, the worst of it being its citizens' apathy. Why don't we speak out? Why don't we demand the government work for us? Instead, we demand the government let us keep more of our tax money so that they can do less, and we can buy more SUVs. Why don't we stand up and demand action against the rising oil prices? Why are we content to live in "blissful" ignorance? I had no answer for him. I honestly don't know.

I am frustrated by my inability to do anything but be angry about things. I am saddened by this looming sense of powerlessness, even though it doesn't necessarily permeate every aspect of my life. Mostly just lingerie related activities...well...shopping in general. However, none of this has anything to do with bras, and none of this excuses crying over the wrong bra size. It's just to say that I feel weakened by the state of my brain lately. I will leave out the story about leaving my keys in the kitchenware section of Target and having to go back after close. I will only ask this: Where is my mind?