My Confrontation with Rosa Parks' Much Younger Evil Sister and Emma Stone's Big Fat Face

Hunter and I went to see the movie The Help last night.  Being the 2nd night open we were dealing with a rather full theater.  As we were looking for a seat we discovered two black women sitting in between 2 empty seats, one of them had her coat and purse on it so I asked if the seat was taken and they said no and that I could sit there.  So than I asked if the seat to her left was taken and, again, she said no and that I could sit there as well.  So I took a deep breath and I worked up the nerve to kindly and politely as possible, ask them if they would be willing to move over one seat so my boyfriend and I could sit together.  To my astonishment they actually looked me in the eye and said "no, you can sit in this seat here or that one right there but these are the seats that we chose."  Now I don't consider myself to be a racist person, that would imply that I have a centralized lack of tolerance for one single group of people, when, in reality I have a centralized lack of tolerance towards all people.  Don't act like an asshole and than scream discrimination.  White, black, Asian, Indian, I don't care, if you're going to be rude than I am going to contemplate punching you in the face.  So when I considered either screaming, "Who are you, fucking Rosa Parks!", taking the lid off of our coke and throwing it in their faces or simply sitting next to them and harassing them throughout the movie by reaching across their laps and grabbing handfuls of popcorn from Hunter every 2 minutes, it was directly related to the fact that these women were assholes, not because they were black.  Unfortunately we were the only white people in a theater showing a movie about violence and repression against blacks, so I thought better of it simply because I had just paid $22 to see the movie and didn't want to get kicked out before the previews had even started.  Not to mention, we're new to the city and I didn't want my name on the front of the paper as a violent bigot assaulting a poor black woman.  There is definitely a time and place for things.   So I hung my head and went to the Neck-Strain Section of the theater and spent the full 2 hours looking up Emma Stone's 42" nose.

Adaptation

Excitement is a strange thing.  In the past month and a half I have road-tripped across America, traveled out of the country, quit 2 jobs, packed my entire apartment, moved upstate, started a new job and began a Facebook account.  Although the last one mentioned appears to be trivial, I have spent the past 5 years boycotting it, so, in that respect, it is very exciting.  Berkeley is amazing.  The city is beautiful.  The people are kind and tolerant and interesting.  And we have an unbelievable apartment.  I love it here, Hunter and I fell right into the groove of a new city.  I was able to find a job within an hour of searching.  It's another waitressing gig but the people are nice and it pays well, in fact, they offer paid vacations and insurance, so I'm pretty happy with it.

Change, even the best kind, is still difficult.  I find myself fighting bouts of depression, but I guess that comes with the territory.  I find myself feeling jumbled and scattered.  Sometimes making simple decisions seem excessively overwhelming and I fall in and out of different stages of worry over random things.  I have to remind myself that it's normal and try not to over think everything the way I so often do.  Hunter has been a little difficult.  He hates doing work around the apartment.  Hanging a headboard or setting up a shelf is enough to throw him over the edge, every time he struggles with a measurement he starts swearing and has to go for a walk..  For the past week we have been living on the corner of Cordial and Fuck Off.  Not to mention I don't like living in a mess.  The place is definitely coming along, We have all the important things unpacked and there is finally room to live.  It's mostly hanging decor now and purchasing a few more things here and there.  But I still have a hard time relaxing and enjoying our new home/city when there are boxes that still need unpacking.  I tend to want to put everything on hold until the place is complete, while Hunter tends to want to say, "screw the place" and go have fun.  Unfortunately, I need someone to hold wall art up for me to determine where it should go and I still don't know how to use an anchor. 

All in all, we are happy.  My escape from L.A. has been nearly effortless.  Sometimes I wonder how I lasted 3 whole years there.  When we were taking the 7 hour drive up here from Long Beach I honestly felt like I couldn't get enough distance between myself and Southern California fast enough.  

So, here we are. . .