dignity

just over three months ago, i dusted off my tired old blog and started trying to catch up, little by little.

it happened on a quiet wednesday afternoon. i was probably tired, because as a graduate student (read: elderly child) i sometimes slip into the deceitful mode of whining about how busy and tired i am (what with how i'm forced to think so much--alas! mortal labor). i tiredly walked from Syntactic Theory: Construction Grammar to a bus stop on broadway with Sarah Michals, and was impressed with the strong afternoon light that warmed the town's skeletal trees against the gently foreboding grays of some low clouds to the north and east. if a guy had half an ounce of dignity, he wouldn't go home right now, i thought, he'd drive up into the foothills and take some landscapes that--while not unprecedented--would nevertheless be very nice.

well, i didn't have much, but i had at least half an ounce. i drove halfway to the field that is all that is left of all of my earthly possessions (as of september 2010) and did as much as i could with a palette of yellow and blue.

























i've never been that excited about birthdays. i appreciate a quiet birthday, maybe a nice meal with my family or with one or two of my closest friends. we'd better be pretty close friends if it's going to be two, though. the next day was my birthday.

ben tyler and elle kernitz (now elle tyler) called dibs on my birthday an unreasonable number of months in advance. clearly my company on my birthday was in great demand, but my bathtub was forced to admit that it hadn't spoken up soon enough to win such an esteemed prize from them.

we made pizza and chatted. we had plans to watch a movie or something to that effect. we talked about their upcoming wedding.

sam, i feel like i should warn you. some people are coming. they are people who we think you'll be comfortable with and have fun with. maybe we could play games or something.

surely ben was saying that some of his friends of his coming into town in a few weeks. oh, when? i asked.

i think in about three minutes. elle and i did not at first agree about whether or not we should do this, but then we decided that it would be good to do, and that hopefully you won't hate it.

a knock at the door.

the rest of the night could just as well be a footnote, but that it was a very enjoyable time with people who really are important to me. the key to the night is that i felt like a person. i have irrational preferences and insecurities and now-i'm-too-overwhelmed triggers--you could call them flaws if you wanted to (i'm inclined to). those flaws were recognized and respected. that was more important than the fact that it was the day of the year on which i was born or how fun the game was (very).