Taste it Ahhh, the sweet taste of green phlegm. You know the kind, the gooey lime colored phlegm that you start to hack up once your immune system declares victory over sickness? Sometimes it's brown and has blood in it, but even then you're glad to see it because you know you've won. It's just so satisfying to cough and feel things really start shaking loose. I guess when you've been out of work as long as I am the little victories are even sweeter.
Raspberry Ballet Erica and I went to a Ballet on Saturday night. It was totally wanky. It started out alright. It was about some Vietnamese guy who left his home when he was 9 years old to come to the US and all the hardships he faced. The first two acts were fine, but it's a true story based on the life of some guy who lives in Bowie Maryland who is now a chef at a japanese Steakhouse, and how the lady-director of the Ballet company went in there and he said his name was "David" and she said "I don't think so!" and so he said his name was Duong (either dung or dong) and so she thusly inspired him to believe in himself and never lie about who he is. Or some shit like that anyways, it was crappy. It was all about her thinking she did something great for this guy. The guy didn't even show up at the performances. She said it was because of the many fears he has yet to overcome in his life, but most likely he just thought she was creepy. She explained the background, and the dance just seeemed to show her and her family going into the restaurant where he worked and she starts dancing with him and that's it. Nowhere did she ever say that she grew close to him, that she did anything for him, that she took him into her home and helped guide him, nothing.SHe just ate at his place and called him on his name. She even called herself "American Mom" and compared her contributions to his life to those of his mother, grandmother, and the Vietnamese Goddess of Mercy. The whole third act seemed like a pat on her back, like she was an aging ballet princess who wasn't getting the parts she wanted anymore so she wrote herself a new one that she'd be perfect for. Anyways, that was my brush with culture. It was no Pokemon Live!
