Sunday, June 15, 2008

No inglés, sorry!

I'm not scared to die, I'm a little bit scared of what comes after

I've generally abstained from discussions about immigration (as pertaining specifically to Border Jumping Mexicans and wall-building lobbyists) and the subsequent topics that follow (If You Live Here You Should Speak English, to be specific), largely because I am a) uninformed and b) apathetic. Largely, I'm uninformed because I'm apathetic. My potential jobs are not in danger of workforce sucking illegals, my welfare is not being drained, and my culture is not being threatened. If anything, I'm pro-Border Jumping Mexicans because man, their food is delicioso and their tequila gets the job done.

As a scholar of a foreign language (and a tourist of others), I'm (academically) of two minds about the whole America = English issue. Mind One says that languages are beautiful and interesting and we should encourage the use of as many as possible. Mind Two says that if I can learn one language and passably babble in two others in under 3 years, then learning English shouldn't be too terrible of a task.

I will admit, however, that when it comes to real world application of my vague convictions, Mind Two wins the fight and feels compelled to join up with the legions of poster-waving conservatives.

I don't mind needing to know basic Spanish to communicate with some of my co-workers. I actually sort of appreciate having an excuse to broaden my lingual horizons. But I do mind when my Spanish-speaking co-workers don't pay me the same courtesy. "No inglés, sorry!" as the sole phrase in your English repertoire doesn't cut it with me.

No más hablo español, Maria.

Maria: Excuse me. Please, food to go. Two. Thank you! *walks away*
Cathi: Wait! What food do you want to go?
Maria: No inglés, sorry!
Cathi: Food to go?"
Maria: Sí.
Cathi: What food?
Maria: No inglés, sorry!
Cathi: Um..... qué?
Maria: ¿Qué?
Cathi: Qué
Maria: No inglés, sorry!
Cathi: *racking brain for vocab from Spanish class* Qué... comidas?
Maria: Ah.... pizza.
Cathi: Kid's pizza?
Maria: Sí. Con.... ah... jamón y piña.
Cathi: Dos pizzas? With ham and pineapple?
Maria: No inglés, sorry!
Cathi: Dos pizzas para niños con jamón y piña?
Maria: Sí.
Cathi: *rings it in*
Maria: *hands over money*
Cathi: *cashes it out immediately*
Maria: Dave.
Cathi: What?
Maria: No inglés, sorry!
Cathi: Dave?
Maria: Dave. Menos dinero.
Cathi: Oh.... you get a shift meal?
Maria: No inglés, sorry!

Monday, June 9, 2008

Checking In

There's more than blood that beats through my heart

Things That Run In My Family
hanging out with my cousins June 2008 edition
-Sense of humor
-Dance skills
-Enjoying alcohol at all hours of the day

Books I Have Read Recently
being retired from college edition
-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith
-I Never Promised You A Rose Garden, Joanne Greenburg
-The Outsiders, S. E. Hinton
-Inda, Sherwood Smith
-The Fox, Sherwood Smith
-Devil In The White City, Erik Larson

Number of Jobs I Have Applied For: 2

People I Have Beaten in Golf
I'm kicking ass edition

Life Lists,

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Congratulations, Class of 2008

I've got a plan: we walk out the door

Despite being rather insistant than I'd rather be shot in the face than have to sit through graduation, I realized tonight that missing it is robbing me of something I've overlooked: the goodbyes.

While sitting in the June sun, watching 500 people I don't know walk up and shake a drunk collge president's hand while wearing the most absurd clothing known to modern man is clearly not a situation I'd gladly sign myself up for, I'd forgotten that the formal ceremony would be not only my last chance to see some people who were a big part of the latest chapter of my life, but also an excuse to let myself cry a little.

I'm not the sentimental type, not really, but it struck me rather hard tonight that I will probably never see some of my college acquaintences and friends ever again. I went to the bar, as per usual on a Thursday night, with the usual crowd, but when I left, I knew it was for the last time, for real.

I will miss college and I will miss the people who I now realize I took for granted. My buddy Nicky D, who somehow always managed to earn the title of "friend" despite the fact that we only really hung out a handful of times during the last four years. The wily Bug, whose molestations weren't necessarily welcome, but always made me feel included. Monk, who was always around, always friendly, and always hilarious. Even Paige, who I never particularly liked due to one of my first encounters with her, but was a part of my life nevertheless. These are people who made up the landscape of my college experience, who I will not necessarily attempt to stay in contact with, and will assumedly never see again except for the odd reunion-esque get together.

There were no false promises of staying in touch. I told Nick it was a pleasue mostly being friends, gave some hugs, and waved rather casually, and that was that. We're all going on to a wide variety of things, all of which can be deemed "the real world". We will get jobs, have families or new groups of friends who seem like a family, get old, break hips, and eventually die. For most of the people I knew at NCC, all of this will happen without my notice and right now, not being afforded a formal, official goodbye, is weighing rather heavily on my heart.

The end of an era is scariest, I think, when you see it coming.

And so, my friends at NCC, I will miss you. Thank you for being a part of the last 3 years of my life. Thank you for making me feel like I belonged. Thank you for laughing with me, gossiping with me, and learning alongside me. I wish you the best, really.

Class of 2008,