It's been a while, kind of...

I think my last entry was on how I learned the true meaning of my name on my birthday. I am now sitting at a reception desk where I work weighing the pros and cons of attending an honors ceremony by catching a ride with someone I despise to a place I hate to go. Not much has changed.

Oh wait that's not quite true. I've gained more weight, my knees crack more and my back pretty much hurts all the time if I'm not careful. I've noticed that all the chiropractors at the practice I go once a week are all male an all white. This is not something that would have occurred to me about 15 years ago. Now it's starting to make me wonder. I can't buy food anywhere anymore without wondering about the conditions of the place, what the benefits are like and whether that bored and depressed look on the cashier's face is that way for many of the same reasons mine is often. I wonder if they're exhausted from fake smiling all day and pretending to be civil to supervisors, they'd just as soon see dropped off of a tall building. I wonder if their lives are treadmill like and what they do to temporarily relieve that each day. I guess for me, photography is a very big part of what I do to escape from the banal routine. Writing used to be this for me but hasn't been for quite some time. I think photography and nature may two of the last few places I can go to breath anymore.  Everybody's got their something and that is mine. And if it wasn't for the work of others I don't know if I would feel the same. Creativity is fed by creativity so if you're not inspired, neither am I. Thank God for nature.

So let's see, where does that leave me? It's scorching hot today, about to get worse tomorrow and I'll be upstate with Fran this weekend, maybe taking in the new Woody Allen film and if it's not too hot maybe a game of catch on the Ramapo High Football field. I like playing catch with Francis. It's very calming and reminds me of when I was girl playing baseball with my dad and brother in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. We talk, we laugh, we get to just enjoy being outside. Yeah, I'm an expert at escaping and relaxing. But regardless, there are some very practical, some very urgent matters that are starting to catch up with me. If I can tackle even one of those this summer, I would feel pretty triumphant.

The Long Haul

"I believe I can see the future

Cause I repeat the same routine

I think I used to have a purpose

But then again

That might have been a dream

I think I used to have a voice

Now I never make a sound

I just do what I've been told

I really don't want them to come around

I can feel their eyes are watching

In case I lose myself again

Sometimes I think I'm happy here

Sometimes, yet I still pretend

I can't remember how this got started

But I can tell you exactly how it will end"

-NIN

"Every Day is Exactly The Same"

.......................................

It's been a tough week, a really tough week. And I know that there are countless people who have it so much worse of than me, people who are suffering, dying, being tortured in unspeakable ways every day. I know that. But sometimes I just don't get it. I just don't get that this is really living, this mindless, day to day, tedious, mind numbing, soul destroying grind. And sometimes I just wanna disappear until my heart comes back. Because right now, it's really buried under a layer of anger, defense, cynicism, selfishness and other horrible things.

This morning one of my co-workers was raving to me about how nice the Bryant Park Bathroom was compared to the one we have here. I totally agreed with her. It is the best kept secret in New York! There are fresh flowers, music, revolving seat covers, a 24 hour cleaning staff. She said that with the demoralized condition in office (it's been this way for almost a year) the Bryant Park bathroom really cheered her up! And I know exactly what she meant. But do you see where I'm going with this? We're talking about a fucking clean bathroom!!!!! I mean these are the basics folks!! The little things that get you through the day. And lately too many of those little basic things have been going haywire in this place and I'm just sort of raw. I'm on edge. I don't know what's next.

How Long?

Several years ago I used to work at a corporation that specialized in counseling for corporate types. I came by this receptionist job through a temp agency which ironically was in a building just a block or so from where I work now.

I worked as a receptionist there, doing data entry, answering calls and all that clerical stuff under the direct supervision of a woman who wore fur coats, had glass nails and ate sushi for lunch. The president of the company was an asshole who always had a cigar stuck in his face and was named Bob Levy.

Working with me as the full time office assistant was a woman of color (I believe she was West Indian but I do not remember the exact island of origin) who all but ran that place single-handed and sometimes with her little son behind the desk with us.

There was one particular day when I brought Mr. Levy a written message which he found illegible (I admit my hand writing sucks) and became furious at me cursing inappropriately or at least I found it inappropriate to be cursed at over a badly taken phone message. Young, and inexperienced at ass-kissing (I still suck at it)I gave him the cold shoulder for a while which was all I could do to stand up for myself.I may be kidding myself bit I believe he felt it. I was highly offended. Up until then, I had never been spoken to in this way before by anyone.

I remember relaying these events to the maverick female office assistant who incidentally told me see used to eat her lunch in a phone booth. I'll never for get what she said to me.
She said, "Do you want to be treated like a nigger?" I forget exactly what came after that statement but I feel it had something to with instructing me on ways on which to avoid being treated this way and how to learn from he experience, since, as she impressed upon me, I would surely be treated this way if I did not take certain precautions. I was so shocked that she had become accustomed to such conditions that I probably made up my mind then and there that I would not be staying on. I left that job to work full time at City College a few months later.
Now, in my present position with CUNY it has begun to occur to me that I am still struggling against being treated like a nigger but in much subtler and more dangerous forms. And the fucked up thing is I learned about this process here at this institute in classes about Poverty and Affluence, Urban Cultural Diversity and Race Class and Gender in America! And whenever I think about escaping to someplace "better", more "civilized" to work with mature people, I realize that I am fantasizing possibly about someplace that does not exist Because, some form of tyranny and racial prejudice will exist no matter where I work and for whom. And I feel trapped.

I know what the truth is. I don't feel crazy or misunderstood. I just feel powerless. And my facade is cracking. I've never known this part of myself before, this angry, frustrated, violent, stuck person and I feel myself behaving in ways I resent, often towards those I care about most, those who don't deserve it because I feel powerless to rage against those who are blindly going about bulldozing their bullshit agendas over those who they perceive as compliant. But I don't know how much longer I can go on doing that.

What I fear the most is really and truly losing it. I would like to be smart. I would like to not give in to that rage. But that seems so much like not doing anything at all. Like checking out. I'm not ready to do that yet. But what am I ready to do? I don't know.

Once a Bookseller, Never Again

I wanted to work in the fiction section but I was placed in Performing Arts which I soon realized was the best place for me because there was tons of diversity in the books there. But here's how I remember the breakdown of those genres of books, in terms of space, demand and general order and personal interest. There were sections that I was always curious about but which I never explored because in my mind I had placed myself in box of interests which did not include these categories. Having enrolled in the Urban Studies program where I work this semester, I realize now that these interests were much more than just a passing fancy.

Cultural Studies and Women's Studies were sections I was always curious about as well as Anthropology a study I was so poisoned against because of a horrible intro class I took at Bard College. But now I see that Anthropology is much more than just some anemic white people spying on the daily practices of native peoples. Doing and ethnography of whites for my final project in Urban Cultural Diversity has helped me to see that.

Thankfully I remember that the African American Studies section was quite large and constantly being updated with new titles. It was a section that was always way too overcrowded. It took a great deal of effort to pull a single book off of that shelf on most days. The Native American section was a sad, pathetic section with the opposite problem. There were never enough books to fill that shelf. Often books were faced out end to end just to keep books with the spines out from falling over. And I swear to you that I could count on one hand the amount of times a customer asked me to look up a book in the Native American section. There were never many people standing around that section either. The most famous sections for people to hang out in were Art, Photo Essays, Film, Self Help, The Occult and Sexuality for the obvious reasons.

Self Help was one of the largest, most ridiculous and most annoying sections to shelve. I found books in that section that I could not believe existed! The Chicken Soup for The Soul Books had their own section! That section convinced me that Self Help is at least 90% racket. I mean the same things were said over and over by different people that's all and depending on whether there was an Oprah Book Club sticker on it it would rise in sales or go virtually unnoticed. I think most of it is a crock personally but I do see what draws people to self help books like an addiction. It's like anything else: a choice of a variety of ways to be told the same thing over and over again but never apply it. That's America. The illusion of choice will always trump resolution through realistic application.

Then there was Film and Music and celebrity biographies which I loved. I used to hide in the isles often flipping through large format photography books of film studies or musician bios that intrigued me. I also loved reading through some of the screenplays of my favorite movies. I eventually bought the screenplay for Noah Baumbach's "The Squid and the Whale" which for me is one the best modern screenplays I've ever read. When I read it, I can see everything in the movie which I love. It's very accessible and irreverent and conveys a great deal of emotion without being over the top or condescending to the audience.

The Art and Photo Essay section is pretty self explanatory. Everyone likes to stand around or sit around on the floor looking at coffee table books of their favorite artists and photographers or just something that catches the eye. Often, many of the suggestive or plain raunchy photos of nudity served the purpose of providing entertainment or offense to customers. Art & Design was another one of my favorite sections. I got a lot of ideas for design, font websites (I became a fan of font when I interned at Harper Collins one summer)page layout and fashion drawing there.

And last but not least is the business section. Yes, even as turned off as I am by the negative bi-products of commerce and advertising, I totally appreciate the genius behind it. One book in particular called "Lovemarks: The Future Beyond Brands" really held my attention while I did my time at that information desk. It has a great explanation of the way the brands that make the most money are the ones that inspire people to invest a deep emotional association with the product. These products are staples, parts of the family, and represent the fabric of life itself. Anyone of us can see examples of this in our own daily relationships with products. Johnson&Johnson, Kodak, G&E, Vasoline are just a few old favorites. There's also a book I had to read once for a presentation I did while interning at Simon&Schuster called "Trading Up" which also talks about more modern companies like Victoria Secret, Panera Bread and Starbucks and how their marketing of European based products have begun to be associated with "A new luxury" for many Americans.

When I think about working at B&N I realize that essentially, it is my relationship with these books that I missed the most when I left. Working there was fucking insane. I will never work retail again if I have anything to do with it. But at the time, I told myself that if I was going to do retail one last time, it might as well have to do with selling a product I love. I do love the book.