We don't have AC at our house, and I'm not complaining. It's not Arizona hot here, so the sensible solution is to wear less clothes and lie around fanning oneself, pretending to be Marie Antoinette. But I just came back from walking around, and now I'm all worked up and sweaty and hooooot...everyone thinks the Midwest is constantly covered in three feet of snow. I forgot just how hot it gets here in the summer.
Another day, another agency...today I hooked up with Kelly Services. I worked with them before, and the woman I talked to seemed pretty confident, even going so far as to assure me "I'll be calling you soon!" as I slipped out the door. I'm so tired of job hunting right now though, I don't really care. Work? Eh. Whatever.
Afterward I went for a stroll around the plaza with the Picasso sculpture thingy, where there was a Turkish Festival going on, under the banner of "Chicago Meets Istanbul!" I spent three of my last five dollars on Turkish coffee and baklava. The coffee is like Greek coffee only somehow...more oppressive. I sipped delicately while listening to what sounded like a Turkish jazz band. They were really good--good enough to keep me standing in the blaring sun while drinking hot coffee, anyway.
Next to me were a group of Turkish girls who had just finished a dance piece, and were swaying along to the music. It made me think of a play that I saw last week, called "Fear of a Hood," which was about a group of college friends who were dealing with their own ideas of racism. One of the characters, your typical WASP, had a monologue about taking a "diversity" class in college and saying that he wished he had been part of a minority. Of course the class attacked him saying "you want to be oppressed?!" but he explained that what he meant was he wished he was a part of an ethnic or cultural group so he could feel like he belonged somewhere, and had some traditions he could take part in. I could understand that very well--being of Scottish, Bohemian, French-Canadian, Dutch, et al extraction, sometimes I too long to belong to one "ethnic" group that I can feel a part of. I know--I am an Americain, but that's less fun when you're surrounded by them. So, it was lovely to get a taster of Turkey, and now I'm thinking of visiting there someday. If only to ask how they feel about being defeated by Lord Byron. :)