white gold medal ribbon.

the number nine is a piece of shit, let me tell you. this town likes to celebrate "car-free days" when it can't even get its public transportation system in order. for all the money spent on promoting "car-free days," the city of seattle could buy another express route so its south side residents don't have to pack ourselves like sardines into the chronically tardy morning express. today was especially bad. normally i don't mind having to stand, but when another commuter is literally breathing down my neck, it becomes bloggable. i like, too, how every time i take the bus home, the only people on the bus are blacks, asians, mexicans and indians. and people like to say we've come so far.

today at work, i attended a computer training. i didn't learn anything that i couldn't have learned on my own, except maybe how to wrap text around an image. still, i'm sure that i'll run into problems when i actually have to do such a thing. the computer trainer guy was this stocky 30 something with a shaved head and beard. there were three other guys with beards. "there's a lot of beard in here," one of the girls said. the bearded guys laughed. neatly shaven, i felt left out. one of the bearded guys looked at me. i think he could tell i felt left out.

during break we ate some sandwiches with salad. i ate two cookies. the bearded fellows started talking about thailand because, apparently, two of them had visited thailand. they talked about how you could buy a big bowl of soup in thailand for thirty cents. "what was in it?" one of the girls asked. "dog, probably." they laughed; i didn't. i thought that, especially in a university setting, people would be less ethnocentric. but no, they continued. "i couldn't believe when i found out that they raised dogs in farms there," the trainer said. "it smelled horrible." "worse than cows?" the other bearded guy asked. "have you smelled a dog farm?" "no, but i've smelled their poop." the girl looked uncomfortable, probably because we were all eating lunch, and probably because the only asian in the room, me, sat there, saying nothing.

i was going to say that all animal farms smell fucking awful, and have you been to southern california? sections of i-5 on the way to los angeles are literally unbreathable. i didn't say anything though. not because i was offended that they were perpetuating the stereotype that all asians eat dogs, but because i was bored, and anyhow, i was on a roll at internet checkers. they started talking about some show called little britain. "have you seen the american version?" asked one bearded man to the next. "no," he said, "but i've seen the british version." they began quoting scenes and talking about it like it was the greatest show on earth.

the girl i worked with has dyed her hair black, so now every girl in the entire building who sees her has to say something about it. "i love your hair!" "you changed your hair!" "it looks so good!" if i tattooed "dick" across my forehead, i wonder if i'd get any comments. also, there are two women in the office who are big obama fans. they leave work to visit the headquarters so they can obtain yard signs, window stickers, bumper stickers, t-shirts and the like. they are obviously more educated and informed than i am, so i shouldn't talk, but sometimes i'd like to just take their enthusiasm down a notch. sometimes, i just wanna be like, "are you sure you want to vote for obama? are you sure?"

on my way back to the ethnically diverse bus after work, i ran into an old classmate, whitney. he recognized me right away, and put his cell phone down. "i'll give you a call back," he said into the receiver. it made me feel important, but only temporarily. i extended my hand, and thought for a brief moment that we might have to do the half hug, but we didn't. that's only something really masculine men do. "what are you doing these days?" he asked. "working here," i said, pointing to the building. "i heard," he said. "you were working with katie, right?" "no," i said, "i took her job." "good," he said, "she didn't need that shit." he looked around, as though all of us, the whole class of 2005, was again wandering around campus. "what were you doing before this?" he said. "unemployed, living at home." he laughed at that. "was that pretty sweet?" "it was alright for a while," i said, "but then it just got depressing." he nodded in agreement. "yeah, like me, you know. i never turned 18, left home and came to seattle." i didn't know what he was talking about. "let me get your number," i said.

i think it's healthy to amass a good number of numbers, if only to convince myself that i could have a social life; you know, if i wanted one.

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