Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

I'm still awkward! I know you've all been wondering if I somehow got less awkward and that's why I've not had any to share for so long, but oh no, I've not lost that quality at all. In this particular case, though, it was technically an awkward airport encounter.

I'm sitting around, minding my own business when an elderly gentleman approaches me and asks me to watch his bag while he goes to the restroom. Now, yes, the slightly robotic voice did come on at exactly that moment and remind us not to leave luggage unattended and never to accept luggage from strangers, but was I seriously going to say no? So as he wandered off I contemplated how bad I'd feel if I exploded in the next few minutes.

When he returned he sat down next to me. I knew then that things were going to get awkward. He asked me about my book and said how delightful it was to see a young lady reading (side note: I seem to be super adorable to old men; I'm not sure why, though I think maybe they think I'm sweeter than I am?). We chatted about Magus for a bit, and then he asked for help with charging his phone.

That's when things took a turn. You see, his phone is apparently bugged. By men in suits. Who also follow him everywhere. They are not the FBI, he is quite sure, because they have been too obvious and amateur. I started to worry about the whole bag watching thing, but it was in the past.

I'm pretty sure that he has some sort of dementia, because he kept forgetting whether California was home or DC for me and asked me to tell him my story several times (why oh why can't I have an easier job to explain that doesn't lead to people wanting to talk about organized crime in Russia?). Though, after the flight when he saw me he remembered my name. Which yes, that did sort of feel a bit creepy.

Go me!

This all reminds me of the one time I made friends with a stranger on a plane and it went well. He also used my book (something on theater of the oppressed) as an opening to chat and we actually seriously hit it off. He gave me his phone number, which is less creepy than asking for mine, right? I never called him, though. I kick myself in retrospect, since that was probably my best chance to make out with a stranger on an airplane. I'm pretty sure in hindsight that he'd have gone for it, and it would a) make for a better story, and b) be a good bucket-list activity, right?

EDIT: I was 21 at the time; I don't know why, but I feel like that is important context.

Oh, you're gonna be my bruise

I've had so, so, so many awkward encounters lately! And they've all involved men and the gym in some capacity. One doesn't quite qualify perfectly, since it happened as I was walking to the gym, but we'll count it.

However, none of the three involve the list project in any way. They just involve me being awkward, so they don't really fit here.

Someone would leave. Someone always leaves.

It's been awhile, but we always come back to it. Today's awkward encounter occurred while I was waiting for an abs class (why I have been taking an abs class is an awkward story in and of itself) with the abs instructor.

AI: Wow. You always have a book.
In my head: This is the third time that you've seen me.
Me: Oh, yeah.
AI: What are you reading?
Me: Ada, by Nabokov.
AI: Ah. What's it about?
In my head: Incest! Incest! A couch.
Me: Um. It's sort of a love story between these two people who met when they were younger and then reconnect later
AI: Ah. Love story. Nothing wrong with that.
Me: Right.
In my head: What?
AI: So, how do you like the class? Right amount of challenging?
Me: Oh, yeah.
AI: Are you an instructor?
Me: No.
AI: Oh.

You make me want to be with the one I'm leaving

Ladies and gentlemen, we are failing at life at the moment. Seriously. The other day I was having a conversation with someone whom I had only very recently met, and in the span of about 30 minutes he managed to get out of me pretty much all the information that I shore up and parcel out slowly to people over the first four - six months of knowing me.

By the end of this conversation he knew:

• My job
• How I got involved in that
• Where I went to undergrad
• What I majored in
• Where I grew up
• All of my hobbies
• My volunteer activities
• My reading habits
• My general thoughts on graduate school
• The Truman program

We were starting on the dangerous topic of my cooking/baking/eating habits when we got mercifully interrupted.

I. . . I don't know how this happened.

"It's not safe out there." "Oh, and it's safe in here?"

It's true what they say: it never rains but it does pour. After a drought of awkward encounters, I'm piling them up again. Yay?

Recently I was waiting for a class in the studio, since there was no class in there before. I'm minding my own business reading my book, when one of the gym managers comes through giving a tour to a new or perspective gym member. Here was his spiel:

"This is our yoga studio; it's soundproof from the rest of the gym, and our yoga and pilates classes are in here. You're also always free to come in anytime there isn't a class to workout or, you know, read your book."

Sigh. I wanted to say in my defense that I was waiting for a class that was going to start in ten minutes; and yes, I could have been on a machine during that time, but I had done an hour workout at home beforehand and I just didn't feel like it. But I didn't actually say anything.

Want to see the inside of my fridge?

You’re passable. You’re passable. You’re passable, it’s true. Saw your face… …It’s okay. So I figured that you’ll do, til I find somebody new.

You may have noticed that I haven't written anything in the Awkward Encounters series, and you may be wondering why. It certainly isn't because I haven't been to the gym as much lately, because I have, and it definitely isn't because I'm any less awkward than before, because I definitely am not.

Why, then? I think it's because somehow lately it's become a bit more of a social outlet, so my ability to read at the gym has been a bit curtailed. I'm not sure how, exactly, but I'm failing at being a bento box.

That said, I finally had one! Random Gym Member 2 (RGM2) recently commented that I always seem to be reading a new book and asked how many I read a week. I explained that I read two per week, aiming for 100 a week. RGM2 then said, "Oh, wow. You should be on Jeopardy." I did not know what to say to that one; I mean, reading a lot of fiction is in no way preparation for that show. I just sort of paused for a moment and said, "Oh." Fortunately, it was then time for class.

How's this for a random picture?

I'm really into my fridge right now. At least, on the outside (so pretty); on the inside, I literally go between either having yogurt and a strange variety of water or a strange variety of water. Sometimes I think about grocery shopping.

You're Committed Now

If you read a very long book, people will take note and then they will comment. This is inevitable. I tell you this so that you are forewarned if you should decide to attempt RoTP (but seriously, there are so many reason to not make this attempt, so. . .).

For example, my latest awkward encounter with a random gym member:

RGM: Remembrance of Things Past. Huh. That looks really long.
Me: This is actually one of three volumes.
RGM: Huh. You're at page 900?
Me: Yeah, of this volume. The whole book is 3,500 pages. I'm about 2,000 into it.
RGM: Is it any good?
Me: It's okay.
RGM: Sh**, girl. For something that long it better be more than okay. I guess you're sort of committed now, though.

This probably would have been less awkward if I had then explained the project to him. I did not.

You're a pretty serious reader

So, while waiting for hip hop (which sort of didn't happen), the following conversation occurred.

I'm reading The Voyage Out when one of the personal trainers approaches me (who has not previously been featured in this series; totally new guy):

"Is that a new book from last week?"

Momentary out-of-body experience where I wonder how often he has noted my reading habits/existence, given that I really do try to fly under the radar.

"Yes, sir."

"Did you finish the one from last week?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wow; you are a pretty serious reader. You have this routine going."

I'm not sure where the "sirs" came from. I think it must have been the day that I was having.

Anyway, this one struck me as particularly funny, because just the other day (at the gym!) I was having a conversation with someone else who was questioning whether I actually finished the books I read, since every time he sees me I'm reading a new book (he doesn't see me that often).

Wait for it. . .

Today I read an article about a book by AJ Jacobs, the guy who read the Encyclopedia Britannica, tried to follow all the rules in the Bible, and most recently did a health kick. Apparently, this is actually a genre called Shtick Lit. Who knew?

According to said article, "Ben Yagoda defines 'shtick lit' as '[b]ooks perpetrated by people who undertook an unusual project with the express purpose of writing about it.'" Think Walden, but generally nowhere near that good/worthy of existing. The author of the article's main gripe with these kinds of books is that they tend to follow a very set formula, tend to be filled with cliches, and tend to not really go to the level of extreme that would justify having a book about them.

All of this sort of hit close to home, clearly. I mean, this is definitely a shtick blog (but really, aren't most?). It doesn't exactly 100% qualify, in that the project came long before the blog, though. The blog is just a place to chronicle this undertaking, not the reason for the undertaking by any means. Still, I definitely see this project as slightly ridiculous. It isn't exactly a stunt, but I do get stunt mileage out of it. I definitely roll it out when I need to provide information about myself but I don't want to actually share anything personal.

However, since I have yet to actually get a book deal or anything, I think that does show a certain dedication to autodidactism that is missing from many of these.

I'd end this with my most recent awkward gym moment involving a guy and a bagel, but it had nothing to do with reading/the list project, so I suppose it doesn't really fit.

Two for the price of one

Another post in the Awkward Encounters with Men at the Gym series (note, this isn't really about these random guys, it's about how awkward I really am; wanted to clarify that I'm really not mocking them).

First encounter: waiting for bhangra while reading The Long Goodbye. I am approached by one of the older trainers, who squints at my book cover for a solid 45 seconds before asking: "Is that the old book or a new book?" Me: "Um, the old one. I guess?" Trainer: "Huh. Just was wondering if they made a new one with the same title." Me: "I don't think so." Trainer: "Okay; well, enjoy it."

I really had no idea what to say to that one.

Second encounter: waiting for hip hop while reading Glamorama. I am approached by a random gym member who addresses me as ma'am (so awkward to begin with), before asking what I am reading and then what it is about. I give a remarkably superficial summary (it's about a male model in New York; I'm not even kidding, that's how I described it). He then launches into a lengthy story about how his fiancee/girlfriend has told him that he should model in New York. We won't comment on that piece, but what struck me as most interesting was that she started out as a fiancee, but by the end of the story she was a girlfriend. Make of that what you will (I could more see it going the other way if it was a recent engagement).

Also, I found this picture and I thought it was fun. I've always wanted to participate in a living art thing, and maybe I could do this one.

Here we go again

Another entry in my awkward gym conversations series. So, when I arrived for hip-hop class, I had my current read with me, and the front desk guy asked me what I was reading. I do what I always do when someone asks, which is simultaneously show the cover and say the name out loud. I'm not sure why I do it that way; I could just as easily say the name.

Anyway, that's not the point. It happened to be Cancer Ward, and he asked me if it was Russian. I confirmed that it was, and he then commented that he likes Dostoevsky. I nodded cheerily in acknowledgment of his statement and wandered off. It wasn't until about 90 seconds later that I realized that this was likely supposed to be a conversation starter. Ah, well. I never said I was an easy person to talk with/get to know.

Deju vu

Sometimes, I think that I could write a whole series of posts about reactions to my reading habits by people at the gym. I'm not sure why, exactly, but this keeps cropping up. Most recently while waiting for a zumba class, a personal trainer (who I have never spoken to/seen before) came up to me to ask what I was reading and what it was about. It happened to be The Woodlanders, and after I summarized he gave me a look of half sympathy for my poor plight in reading it, and half incredulity that I would choose to read it. He then said "well, at least you can work out after reading it and get the tension out."

Now, I realize this isn't much of a story, and is not, really, all that noteworthy. However, you need to understand something about my brain. I generally go through life thinking that I'm semi invisible, that I don't really register on people's radar, and that I can be as idiosyncratic as I please because no one will really notice. It always really jars me when someone comments that they've been observing some behavior of mine or that they were talking about me, etc. In some ways this is similar to being a Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.

In all seriousness, though, I think if I wasn't already writing this blog I should start one called "Awkward Encounters with Men at the Gym," since not all my awkward encounters relate to the list project, but they sure happen all. the. time.

Are you okay?

Oh, Fugitive Pieces. It's been awhile since I've cried so much while reading a book. This led to two personal trainers at the gym and a stranger on a bus asking the titular question. The answer may be debatable.

That said, the book description should give anyone a fairly good sense of how upsetting it will be. Essentially, it is about the shattering effects of World War II and the Holocaust, and how they reverberate in the lives of three men from different generations. That set-up is certainly powerful in and of itself, but what really drives the novel is the language/prose and description of how the characters perceive the world and make sense of their experiences.

Here is a quote from the dustcover that sort of sums up what I mean "And in this layered process of re-entering life, Jakob learns the power of language - to destroy, to omit, and to obliterate; but also to witness and tell, conjure and restore." The novel explores this duality and is concerned with other seemingly contradictory dualities and how we make sense of them in the face of terrible trauma and tragedy.

Now, I realize like many of the books that I love, this makes it sound bleak and sad. And it certainly is, but it is also so. . . I'm not sure the right word. Beautiful was what first came to mind, but I do not want to imply on any level that I think there is anything beautiful about acts of atrocious, unspeakable violence. And yet, there is something awe inspiring, tender, and exquisite in the ability to survive, to endure, to not try to cover over these tragedies or forget, but to fully face and fully grapple with them and their impact on lives. I do find something beautiful in that, but obviously it's very complicated.

Here are some favorite quotes:

"To be proved true, violence need only occur once. But good is proved by repetition."

"I can't save a boy from a burning building. Instead he must save me from the attempt; he must jump to earth."

"Perhaps the electron is neither particle nor wave but something else instead, much less simple - a dissonance - like grief, whose pain is love."

I plan to be serious when I grow up

One thing that I have noticed is that people at the gym do tend to have opinions about my reading habits. Here is a relatively recent example.

I'm sitting waiting patiently for my first Saturday dance class - reading Cloudsplitter, in case you're curious - when the hip-hop teacher approaches me, plops his hands on the table, and delivers the following mini-speech:

"Every time I see you, you're always reading. . ." long pause as we both contemplate where this is going. "Which is great, but you can also relax."

This story is probably funnier if you know both of us.

Bonus points if you get the titular reference.