am i speaking chinese?
February 5, 2002 11:34 AM

Sometimes I swear I must be mute. Or speaking Chinese.

Those days you have when everyone fails to get it. And you're thinking. Damn, it has to be me.

I had one of those days yesterday. Then I started thinking. It's not me. They're just this stupid. Because some people were hearing me. And they weren't even people known for their exceptional listening skills.

I spent a lot of yesterday angry.

I spent a lot of yesterday thinking I hope you die. And pretty much meaning it. People should be absolutely disposable. They should cease to exist when I'm through with them. And just. Not bother me again.

I was angry.

And. Some of it was overreactive. Some of it was justified. Some of it was amplified by spending time with someone who actually did speak Chinese and some other people who were lying. Who thought they were lying effectively, which is to say, outsmarting the rest of us.

I can't begin to describe how much that annoys me.

Still, in the wide sweeping scope of all the bad days ever. Hardly a speck.

I found the German lyrics to 'Pirate Jenny' and a number of fascinating Polish theatre posters. The next iteration of wicked p is so going to involve Threepenny Opera, cabaret, bauhaus. Weimar in general.

Just you wait. Henry Higgins. Just you wait.

My Fair Lady is upsettingly sexist. It carves out anything interesting Shaw said like eyes in a year-old potato. Leaves a curvaceous husk. Not much else.

And the implication that an abusive man is secretly sweet and only curmudgeonly, after all. Upsetting.

I'm just saying.

It was on the television this weekend when I was busy doing something, and I looked up. And there it was. I would not have watched it on purpose. I find it (did I mention?) upsetting.

I want it to cease existing. Or be replaced with something interesting and complex.

That goes for those people, too.