Friday, March 04, 2005

How to make me get out of bed in the morning, and other useful information

I was freezing, freezing cold all last night, but while I was awake enough to be terribly uncomfortably, I was still asleep enough not to get up for another blanket. I woke up this morning all my skin was cold—not just hands and feet but also my shoulders, my legs. Aren’t people’s bodies supposed to stay warm until they’re dead? (Speaking of cold, this morning when I was waiting for the bus I went to find a song on my iPod and found that it didn’t work because my fingers were too cold to work the heat-sensitive buttons. Oh man!)

So loath was I to get out of bed and into the even colder air, that my mom broke out her last-resort, foolproof get-T.C.-up method. Downstairs, she puts on really bad music loud enough for me to hear it in bed, and I compulsively need to get up to turn it off. I survived for about five minutes, trying to ignore it, before I leapt out of bed and ran downstairs—you mess with my music, you’re messing with me.

In history class today, we were talking about odd ways in which factories save money during WWII. One was to throw out all cuspidors so that the factories wouldn’t need to employ people to empty and clean them. Being a cuspidor-emptier is officially the new Worst Job Ever. That is literally one of the most depressing things I can think of, for someone to spend his life emptying cuspidors. Eugh.

Also in history, M. started naming random “Would you rather” situations, such as “Would you rather have your mother die, or all the dogs in the world?” When I replied that I’d save my mom, he remarked that I would be breaking the hearts of millions of little kids. This game is harder than I thought! “Would you rather have a baby die or a thousand square miles of the rainforest?” “Would you rather live in a Star Trek world or a Dr. Seuss world?” This was, funnily enough, the second time within ten hours that I had had a conversation about Dr. Seuss. We both agreed that the Lorax could beat Spock in a duel, any day. Except that he advocates non-violence. Hey, in this world, we could save the baby and the Lorax could re-plant the rainforest! we decided.

Clearly, this history class was a productive one.

In the vein of bizarre jobs—like the aforementioned cuspidor-emptier—another one to add to the list is when people dress up like statues. I had never seen this before until I went to Rome a few years ago; in the big squares, a performer would sometimes dress up in all white or gray and paint his skin, then stand in a special posture unmoving, barely blinking, for hours on end! With all the real sculptures in that city, I found myself on occasion unsure about whether the statue was real or not. Some people would go to get their picture taken next to a statue only to be shocked when the sculpture spoke to them. Ha! I think that I would like to dress up like a sculpture in New York City at some point in my life.


(Here’s a picture of a sculpture-performer)

Now I’m off to read me some Don Quixote!

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