Boredom starts with useless effort. You have shortcomings and aren't what you should be? Boredom is the conviction you can't change. You begin to worry about loss of variety in your character and the uncomplimentary comparison with others in your secret mind, and this makes you feel your own tiresomeness. On your social side boredom is a manifestation of the power of society. The stronger society is, the more it expects you to hold yourself in readiness to perform your social duties, the greater your availability, the smaller your significance. ... Boredom therefore can arise from the cessation of habitual functions, even though these may be boring too. It is also the shriek of unused capacities, the doom of serving no great end or design, or contributing to no master force. The obedience that is not willingly given because nobody knows how to request it. The harmony that is not accomplished. This lies behind boredom. But you see the endless vistas. (504)

-- from The Adventures of Augie March, Pneguin 1981. OK, random literary passage insert done.)

Seriously, those of us who don't know any veterans or have any military family probably just see this as an extra day off work. Am I right? Those who are close to the cause will celebrate it; those who aren't won't. Isn't that how America works?

Seeing as I have no military / veteran friends or family, I fall into the latter category-- but I do respect those who choose to dedicate their lives to a greater (but not necessarily good or better) cause. And like I said, I wouldn't mind being there to listen to all the stories. Time and time again I've though of being a pen pal with someone stationed in Iraq or Afghanistan -- but then again, they likely wouldn't appreciate the negative feelings I have towards the reasons that they are throwing their lives in harm's way.

Moving on: last night we went up to Charlotte to eat, as my aunt got word of a new buffet place up there. (Yay, yet another set of human troughs for us pigs to oink at.) Usually on such outings, my nuclear family would pack into one car, and the other families, likewise; this time, however, I had to bring my car along. For some reason or another, my aunt doesn't like to drive on the highway (or maybe it's just that she uses us to get where she wants to go); usually it is just her and my little cousin that come, but this time around my older cousin chose to join us, and because of that there wasn't enough room for all of us to fit in one car. Thus, the Dittomobile was employed. Add that to the fact that my brother drove as well... we were a slightly grouchy group heading north.

First, we made the usual pit stop at the AZN market off Sugar Creek, the new market being all the rage. On our way up there, my brother, who is driving my car, notices that it has been a year since I've had the oil changed. Is that really THAT bad? He makes a HUGE fuss over it, and of course with me, I didn't know I was doing anything wrong. (I'm an air sign, in case y'all didn't know.) Anyway, he, with his temper, decides on the way up that he is taking the car to a shop to get that oil changed THEN and THERE. Since I wasn't behind the wheel, I could do nothing but let the monster control the Dittomobile.

Luck was on my side, however, because the auto shop he stopped at was busy (and closing in 15 minutes). So we met up with our group at the AZN market; walking through the shopping center to find everyone, we passed an African market that I hadn't noticed before. Although it is somewhat curious that it was there in what is supposed to be an AZN strip mall, it reminded me of what a diverse clientele the mall has.

And then to dinner. Of course, it took us forever to find the place, as we were following my aunt's directions (never a smart thing to do). For one thing, we literally had to drive THROUGH Charlotte to get there. And not only that, but we took the long way, from North Charlotte to Pineville via Independce Blvd and Pineville-Matthews Pkwy. In essence, we crossed right through the city -- when we could've just taken 77. Finally, after a stretch of time seeming an hour, we found the place. The name of the restaurant was Tin Tin, an awkward transliteration of the Cantonese reading of the character. The front of the building had an art-deco movie-theater kind of a look, and to the left of the entrance was an open porch-like area where kids were playing chase, tag and simply staging races. With all the kids running amuck and adults lounging around, leaning against the outer wall, I could see that we were in for a long wait -- and it was 730pm, PAST time for me to eat. Add me to the grouchy crowd.

After a surprisingly short wait, we ate. The restaurant offered a nice variety of choices, even with the cutthroat buffet standard already in place in most cities. (We're talking frog legs, crab legs and ducks, to name 3 choices.) However, the points the restaurant won for its variety were taken away due to the quality of the food. I myself could only eat 1 1/2 plates and some soup, so my meal was not worth the $16 fee for an adult. Good thing I wasn't paying.

The highlight of the evening, however, was when my cousin (the one who typically does not accompany us on such outings) shed a few tears at the table. My brother and I were asking her about college, why she hadn't graduated on time (this past semester)... her reason was that she dropped (or dropped out of?) 2 courses she needed, one being social science, the other being her senior seminar. Why she dropped the classes? Supposedly because of some "drama" in her life... memories of this "drama" prompted her to start sniveling, and it got so bad that the older folks, sitting at another table from us young'uns, called over, and even the restaurant employees were looking our way.

This "drama" that my cousin spoke of dealt with her recent boyfriend, who supposedly "beat" her. I use that word verrrrrry loosely here -- if he really hit her, if it was something very serious, there is no doubt that we would've heard of it before, seeing as my aunt has the biggest mouth in the family. However, word has not travelled down the grapevine about this, so I'm thinking she exaggerated the story a bit. Also, this cousin tends to make things dramatic -- I swear, sometimes you think she wants to live in a soap opera. Thus, all I can say is that I've got a rather sensitive cousin.

I've probably bored all you nonexistent readers to tears now, so I'll stop.
22:47

Friday, May 28, 2004  

Literacy & Lao