I'm hesitant to copy and paste articles here, but I thought this one was tres interessante:
NYTimes.com
By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN
Published: July 28, 2005
After two fairy-tale weeks of pampering, shopping, top-notch medical care and limitless Pepsi, Ayad al-Sirowiy, the 13-year-old Iraqi boy who came to the United States to get the tattoo of war removed from his disfigured face, is going home.
And - no surprise - he really doesn't want to.
"Ma arrooh, ma arrooh," Ayad shouted Wednesday afternoon, as he kicked and fussed in his hotel bed, a few hours before his flight. "I don't want to go. I don't want to go."
His face was shiny with burn salve, his lips were puffy and blistery and both eyes were swollen shut like a pummeled boxer's. It stung just to look at him.
Ayad has been quite a project. He was injured at the beginning of the Iraq war after his cow accidentally set off an American cluster bomb, which drilled tiny pieces of shrapnel into his face, blinding him in one eye and printing a map of pin-prick scars across his skin. The boys in Ayad's village call him "Mr. Gunpowder," and he was so ashamed that he dropped out of school.
But after a retired law professor in Miami Beach read about his plight and won him approval to come to the United States, a new hope was planted. Ayad began to dream of having his old face again. And he thought if it could happen anywhere, it was America.
During his time here he has seen a lot - the inside of the Pentagon, a senator's office, sharks in a tank, girls in tank tops, the view from the Empire State Building and the treasures of Wal-Mart.
"It was bigger than my village," said Ayad's father, Ali, who accompanied him on his visit.
But the miracle metamorphosis didn't happen. Ayad thought he was going to get a new eye; instead he got a contact lens. And the laser surgery that was promised to erase his facial scars will only lighten them, unless he can receive follow-up treatment in the United States or another modern country, which is highly unlikely once he leaves behind the silky sheets and first-class hotels for his mud hut.
Just the sight of an Iraqi flag yesterday, at the Iraqi mission to the United Nations, jolted his father back to reality.
"Can't I stay here and work?" he asked Ambassador Samir Shakir M. Sumaida'ie, Iraq's permanent representative to the United Nations.
When the ambassador gently shook his head, Ayad's father covered his face and cried.
Ayad arrived in New York on July 13, and soon began skin laser treatment by Dr. Tina Alster, a dermatologist in Washington, who zapped 2,500 ugly blue freckles on his face. His most recent treatment was on Monday, which is why his face is now so sore.
Ayad also saw a number of eye doctors in Baltimore. But he was unable to get the cornea transplant that was needed to restore his full vision because the optic nerve in his right eye was destroyed. Instead, doctors gave him a specially made cosmetic contact lens that turns his milky blue eye back to brown. He quickly lost it, though his sponsors hope to send him a spare.
A tiny piece of shrapnel was found near the retina of his good eye, which at first was thought to require surgery. But a retina specialist determined that the shrapnel was not hurting Ayad's vision and that it would be too risky to remove it.
Then came the V.I.P. treatment. Ayad and his father met Senator Patrick J. Leahy, Democrat of Vermont, who has worked to increase financing for civilian casualties.
Mr. Leahy told Ayad that he is blind in one eye, too.
"If I can be a senator with one eye, you can be prime minister," Mr. Leahy said. Ayad beamed.
They had lunch at the Pentagon with Robert Reilly, a Defense Department adviser who helped smooth the way for the visit. Ayad saluted a picture of the president, saying in English, "Bush, very, very good."
Meanwhile, his father was boiling inside. During an interview with an Arab television network, he went into a tirade about being promised money and gifts.
"I demand to face George W. Bush, and I have some things to say straight to him," he said.
On Wednesday afternoon, the two were more somber. They were scheduled to leave New York on an 11 p.m. flight for the Middle East and the sight of their suitcases stuffed with new clothes, cameras and Herbal Essence shampoo depressed them.
"I thought the Americans could do everything," Ayad's father said.
Ayad stared at the carpet and whispered, "I hope we come back."
27.7.05
donnie darko
I finally watched Donnie Darko last night.
I haven't read anything about it (I try not to saturate my mind with other people's opinions cause it's fun to enjoy original thoughts) and the only thing I had really heard about it was from a friend who posits that it explores the feelings of "love" and "fear" and how they relate to life--an idea that the film makes clear anyway.
Before I go into my take on it, I should explain my take on movies/films--and any creation of human imagination for that matter--in the general sense.
People create these--things--from their minds and philosophies . Whether it's a painting, a book, a film, musical composition--whatever--someone thought of it and then made it.
And as the viewer, reader, listener--whomever--we experience the creation.
So during that experience, there are two things happening: there's the idea with which the creator created, as well as the idea which we project onto the creation itself. In this way, "art" is a two-way encounter that is different for every person and every time.
That being said, my "interpretation" of Donnie Darko is similar to my interpretation of Lola Rennt, Memento and Mulholland Drive: it's about living the life you want to live.
Darko took me into the mind of the character and how he resisted the concept of time through time travel and how he rejected one life path and accepted/chose another. To me, Donnie saw--lived, actually--one reality but ended up choosing another--death--in the end.
The details are fun; trying to piece together the chronology (if any) and what "symbolizes" what (if at all). Some of those questions are:
-Did he actually wake up the night of the jet engine crash, go outside to his lawn, see Frank, thus avoiding the engine crash and initiating his Frank-induced life? The way he laughs as he lies in bed right before the jet engine comes crashing down on him at the end to me implies that, yes, he lived out the Frank life and then went back and chose death to avoid that path/destroy Frank/choose a new life/etc. By choosing the portal in order to take back all of the events which panned out over the course of the movie, Donnie creates the very plane crash which leads to his death-by-jet-engine in the end--the same jet-engine crash from the beginning of the movie.
-Was Donnie's mom standing by the tree at the end real? In one brief clip it shows her returning from the Sparkle Motion StarSearch trip, hugging the family--which means the plane crash never happened, at least not with her on it. But in the end, as Donnie chooses the wormhole/time portal, that very same time portal causes the plane she is riding on to crash--or disappear, sans one jet engine. At the end she is seen standing by the tree as the rest of the Darko family stands at a slight distance mourning the death of Donnie but to me it was more of a spirit than a person. She's an aloof character throughout the movie anyway, but it is weird that she is just kind of smirking and smoking a cigarette while the others cry nearby.
-If Donnie didn't "meet" Frank until the end when Frank ran over Gretchen and Donnie shot him, then how was Frank a main character in the movie prior to their encounter? Thus, was Frank real (i.e., just a bad driver in a halloween costume), a figment of Donnie's imagination, or both? I think it's both: Donnie saw into the future/the car crash and then used that character, who his mind named Frank, during the mental process leading up to the car crash. He met Frank in the movie theater and saw his wounded eye before he actually shot him in the eye.
These questions segue into the cyclical nature of the movie itself, which, in turn, inherently questions the concept of time by playing with cinematic chronology. There's no clear end or beginning, and to me that seems to be one of the points.
Another one, as I mentioned above, is the idea of choosing the life you want to lead. It would seem that, through it all, Donnie is controlled by different forces...Frank, coincidence, love and fear. However, my interpretation is that Donnie is really the one in control. Not control in a control-freak way. A control that culminates in his own choice of death, and at the same time, life.
This is my take on the movie right now. I think it's because I brought to it my own belief that life is what we make of it. It's not always easy and rarely is anyone able to pull it off without feeling hurt, second-guessing decisions or with any sort of degree of perfection.
But if we stay true to ourselves and the ones we love, we can transcend the concept of time and, in the "end," live the life we want.
I haven't read anything about it (I try not to saturate my mind with other people's opinions cause it's fun to enjoy original thoughts) and the only thing I had really heard about it was from a friend who posits that it explores the feelings of "love" and "fear" and how they relate to life--an idea that the film makes clear anyway.
Before I go into my take on it, I should explain my take on movies/films--and any creation of human imagination for that matter--in the general sense.
People create these--things--from their minds and philosophies . Whether it's a painting, a book, a film, musical composition--whatever--someone thought of it and then made it.
And as the viewer, reader, listener--whomever--we experience the creation.
So during that experience, there are two things happening: there's the idea with which the creator created, as well as the idea which we project onto the creation itself. In this way, "art" is a two-way encounter that is different for every person and every time.
That being said, my "interpretation" of Donnie Darko is similar to my interpretation of Lola Rennt, Memento and Mulholland Drive: it's about living the life you want to live.
Darko took me into the mind of the character and how he resisted the concept of time through time travel and how he rejected one life path and accepted/chose another. To me, Donnie saw--lived, actually--one reality but ended up choosing another--death--in the end.
The details are fun; trying to piece together the chronology (if any) and what "symbolizes" what (if at all). Some of those questions are:
-Did he actually wake up the night of the jet engine crash, go outside to his lawn, see Frank, thus avoiding the engine crash and initiating his Frank-induced life? The way he laughs as he lies in bed right before the jet engine comes crashing down on him at the end to me implies that, yes, he lived out the Frank life and then went back and chose death to avoid that path/destroy Frank/choose a new life/etc. By choosing the portal in order to take back all of the events which panned out over the course of the movie, Donnie creates the very plane crash which leads to his death-by-jet-engine in the end--the same jet-engine crash from the beginning of the movie.
-Was Donnie's mom standing by the tree at the end real? In one brief clip it shows her returning from the Sparkle Motion StarSearch trip, hugging the family--which means the plane crash never happened, at least not with her on it. But in the end, as Donnie chooses the wormhole/time portal, that very same time portal causes the plane she is riding on to crash--or disappear, sans one jet engine. At the end she is seen standing by the tree as the rest of the Darko family stands at a slight distance mourning the death of Donnie but to me it was more of a spirit than a person. She's an aloof character throughout the movie anyway, but it is weird that she is just kind of smirking and smoking a cigarette while the others cry nearby.
-If Donnie didn't "meet" Frank until the end when Frank ran over Gretchen and Donnie shot him, then how was Frank a main character in the movie prior to their encounter? Thus, was Frank real (i.e., just a bad driver in a halloween costume), a figment of Donnie's imagination, or both? I think it's both: Donnie saw into the future/the car crash and then used that character, who his mind named Frank, during the mental process leading up to the car crash. He met Frank in the movie theater and saw his wounded eye before he actually shot him in the eye.
These questions segue into the cyclical nature of the movie itself, which, in turn, inherently questions the concept of time by playing with cinematic chronology. There's no clear end or beginning, and to me that seems to be one of the points.
Another one, as I mentioned above, is the idea of choosing the life you want to lead. It would seem that, through it all, Donnie is controlled by different forces...Frank, coincidence, love and fear. However, my interpretation is that Donnie is really the one in control. Not control in a control-freak way. A control that culminates in his own choice of death, and at the same time, life.
This is my take on the movie right now. I think it's because I brought to it my own belief that life is what we make of it. It's not always easy and rarely is anyone able to pull it off without feeling hurt, second-guessing decisions or with any sort of degree of perfection.
But if we stay true to ourselves and the ones we love, we can transcend the concept of time and, in the "end," live the life we want.
25.7.05
oh no, not this again!
I thought I was done with it all. The ass-kissing. The bullshit presentation of food and drink. The sheer...nonsense.
But I did it. I got a waitressing job.
After Bistro d'OC I swore off waiting tables. Indeed, it was the French wot did it. But I had had this hankerin' lately for the thrills and spills of waiting tables.
Or maybe it is just the money. As many of you know, cold hard cash is my pimp.
So I started this weekend at Bistro Bis. It's a really nice place on Capitol Hill where the cocktails cost $10+ and what not. It's cool, though because I only work Saturday/Sunday breakfast and brunch. (The not cool part is that it starts at 6:15 am). Usually breakfast is the sucky-suck-suck shift, but not here: I think the guy I shadowed made $250 this weekend. We'll see how it goes.
I already felt a gag reflex when a customer asked for extra chives on his omelette.
But I did it. I got a waitressing job.
After Bistro d'OC I swore off waiting tables. Indeed, it was the French wot did it. But I had had this hankerin' lately for the thrills and spills of waiting tables.
Or maybe it is just the money. As many of you know, cold hard cash is my pimp.
So I started this weekend at Bistro Bis. It's a really nice place on Capitol Hill where the cocktails cost $10+ and what not. It's cool, though because I only work Saturday/Sunday breakfast and brunch. (The not cool part is that it starts at 6:15 am). Usually breakfast is the sucky-suck-suck shift, but not here: I think the guy I shadowed made $250 this weekend. We'll see how it goes.
I already felt a gag reflex when a customer asked for extra chives on his omelette.
19.7.05
screen on the green
I just love when people have good ideas that actually happen. I mean, I know "good" is a judgment so really what I'm saying is that I believe certain ideas are good, or better, than others. I don't really think ideas are bad in a sense that everything is a learning experience so how can an idea be 'bad' or 'wrong' I mean except if you stuck a fork in your eye and then hit it with a rubber mallet. That is probably a bad idea. Or maybe not...it would teach you a valuable lesson about forks and mallets.
OK so one of the better ideas I've seen in a while. OK well, there's two because I just thought of another one. The one I just thought of is PODS. Not iPods. PODS. Personal On Demand Storage.
Some people, like me, aren't made of money. I mean, I wish, sort of. That might not be the best thing, though--to be made of money. But since I'm not anyway who cares. So the PODS people bring this U-Haul-sized metal box to your doorstep and drop it off. Then you can pack it at your leisure, with no deadline. Then the PODS people will take it to where ever you're moving and you unpack it, etc.! HELLO! Absolutely brilliant. My dilemma has always been having a car but needing a small moving truck. Driving two vehicles at one time, though possible, is impossible.
Another good idea is Screen on the Green, which I attended last night. This isn't necessarily an original or innovative idea, per se, but it's a nice one. The good people at Citi and HBO set up a big screen down on the National Mall and show movies every Monday noche. Last night was the first, and quite poignant "The Way We Were" starring Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand. The fun thing was the fact that 3,000 other people were there, too, on their blankets with picnic dinners, springing up to dance to the flashy, 30-second HBO jingle, laughing at the old Bugs Bunny cartoon intro, giggling at the cheesy gaffes of our heroine and clapping when famous (or seemingly famous--how do we know?) lines were recited, or classic moments took place. Surprisingly, it wasn't a bunch of baby-boomer liberals--it seemed like all of my peers--the fashionable Georgetown crowd, the work-hard/play-hard CapHill crew, the undie U-Street group--had come on down to see this free flick, all with the lit-up Capitol Dome prominently in the backdrop.
It was a good idea and I'd like to thank my corporate sponsors.
OK so one of the better ideas I've seen in a while. OK well, there's two because I just thought of another one. The one I just thought of is PODS. Not iPods. PODS. Personal On Demand Storage.
Some people, like me, aren't made of money. I mean, I wish, sort of. That might not be the best thing, though--to be made of money. But since I'm not anyway who cares. So the PODS people bring this U-Haul-sized metal box to your doorstep and drop it off. Then you can pack it at your leisure, with no deadline. Then the PODS people will take it to where ever you're moving and you unpack it, etc.! HELLO! Absolutely brilliant. My dilemma has always been having a car but needing a small moving truck. Driving two vehicles at one time, though possible, is impossible.
Another good idea is Screen on the Green, which I attended last night. This isn't necessarily an original or innovative idea, per se, but it's a nice one. The good people at Citi and HBO set up a big screen down on the National Mall and show movies every Monday noche. Last night was the first, and quite poignant "The Way We Were" starring Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand. The fun thing was the fact that 3,000 other people were there, too, on their blankets with picnic dinners, springing up to dance to the flashy, 30-second HBO jingle, laughing at the old Bugs Bunny cartoon intro, giggling at the cheesy gaffes of our heroine and clapping when famous (or seemingly famous--how do we know?) lines were recited, or classic moments took place. Surprisingly, it wasn't a bunch of baby-boomer liberals--it seemed like all of my peers--the fashionable Georgetown crowd, the work-hard/play-hard CapHill crew, the undie U-Street group--had come on down to see this free flick, all with the lit-up Capitol Dome prominently in the backdrop.
It was a good idea and I'd like to thank my corporate sponsors.
14.7.05
fallure
I was recently talking with my dear friend Molly Nichols, an amazing person and human being extraordinaire who currently works at the Eagle Rock School in the Rocky Mtn. National Park. She was telling me about a concept they use with the students, and I think it's one of the best analogies for life I've ever heard (besides those ubiquitous Aesop's Fables, of course).
When they take the kids rock climbing, they talk about the difference between failure and fallure. Say you've been climbing for a while and you're starting to feel it pretty bad. You're tired, sweaty, your arms are getting weaker with each pull and you know you're done. When you look up and see the next hold, you have one of two options:
You could either let go of the rock and fall back into your belay rope, which would be failure.
Or you could at least go for that next hold even though you know you probably won't make it...which would be fallure.
I liked hearing someone tell about a concept that, though undefined, has been part of my nature throughout my life. It was a reinforcement of what I've already been doing anyway, especially recently.
I don't really believe life is necessarily always about getting the result you want or expect, but how would you know unless you tried? In the end, that might be the better result than what you wanted anyway. Of course, I'd add that the second piece to this would be knowing yourself and being aware of yourself and how you affect others and the world.
It's not always a painless modus operandi, but I'd rather die a fallure than a failure.
When they take the kids rock climbing, they talk about the difference between failure and fallure. Say you've been climbing for a while and you're starting to feel it pretty bad. You're tired, sweaty, your arms are getting weaker with each pull and you know you're done. When you look up and see the next hold, you have one of two options:
You could either let go of the rock and fall back into your belay rope, which would be failure.
Or you could at least go for that next hold even though you know you probably won't make it...which would be fallure.
I liked hearing someone tell about a concept that, though undefined, has been part of my nature throughout my life. It was a reinforcement of what I've already been doing anyway, especially recently.
I don't really believe life is necessarily always about getting the result you want or expect, but how would you know unless you tried? In the end, that might be the better result than what you wanted anyway. Of course, I'd add that the second piece to this would be knowing yourself and being aware of yourself and how you affect others and the world.
It's not always a painless modus operandi, but I'd rather die a fallure than a failure.
12.7.05
America, weather and my family vacation
Heading out to Atlanta last Saturday, I didn't know what to expect. My brother (James) and I were flying down to meet up with my dad, his brother (Uncle Tom) and his family, who we haven't seen in six years, and a lot has changed in that short amount of time:
-My dad and uncle have both retired from the Army
-My cousin Andrew has gone from pipsqueak to star football player
-My parents have gotten divorced
-My dad has lived in Romania for four years
After being so separated from one another, all of a sudden going on a week- long vacation could prove to be very interesting.
That rang true the first night when, shortly after our arrival, I was brought up to speed on the complete Earnhart racing saga, especially the recent happenings of Dale Earnhart, Jr. ("Little E," as it turns out, has had a trying season--that first night was the Daytona Pepsi 400, in which he was routed by Tony Stewart. However, the tide was turned the past weekend at the Nextel Cup Series in Chicago. He drove it in to take the victory). I now know more about NASCAR than I ever thought I would want to.
After nursing a Coors Light ("the best beer," according Uncle T) hangover it was time to pack up the RV, two SUVs, a Ford F-150 (with FlowMaster exhaust) and a boat to head out to sunny and then-peaceful Destin, Florida. I decided to ride with the relatives in the aptly-named "Hurricane," a beautiful 40-foot house on wheels, complete with two TV's, a bathroom, kitchen, living room...yeah! I think I recall Uncle Tom saying it cost $125 to fill it up. I tried to abet my guilt by reminding myself that I recycle everything (including stories/jokes) and pride myself on the pedestrian lifestyle I lead. That being said, I'd rather ride shotgun in the Hurricane over the bomb-able BART any day!
Speaking of transportation, I have to admit that I had a slight fear that we were overdoing it. I mean, we (all six of us) were only going to be there for a week and we needed three gas-guzzling monster cars??
But once we pulled into Destin and I had myself a look around, I realized we fit right in with the rest of vacationing America.
Starving after a day on the road, we contemplated our first meal and decided on Hooters. Well, actually, this was my uncle's idea. Most decisions during the week were made by my uncle. All I have to say is the service was horrible?
After that we headed to Wal-Mart. You know, to stock up for the week. I couldn't believe how crowded Wal-Mart was at 11 pm on a Sunday! Perhaps its shiny lights and plastic junk are a welcome alternative to staring at your family while you're all on vacation.
On July Fourth, filled with the triumphant spirit of the USA, we took the boat out onto the sapphire-blue waters of the bay. There's something about motorboats that's quintessentially American. Maybe it's defying wind and water, maybe it's the obnoxious-turned-soothing whir of the motor, or maybe it's just the air in your salty hair. Whatever it is, it didn't matter because our boat shut down an hour into the trip. My dad was pissed because he drove it 1,000 miles and it broke on the first day out. Stuff like that happens to him all the time and sometimes I wonder if he's sort of a tragic character. Once we were back at the RV park, though, we mollified our maritime misery with some fresh-grilled amberjack, Silverbullet Smooth and, of course, Old Glory waving. Everything was fine again.
The rest of the week was a mixture of beach and American things like driving up and down the strip and eating bad foods that taste good. Thursday I headed to Big Kahuna's--a water slide park--with my cousin and his girlfriend. I had actually pledged not to attend a water park ever again in my life after my last experience a few years back, but Big Kahuna's was more about the slides than stagnant pools with baby poops. That and I had become bored with the beautiful waters of the Gulf Coast. I needed waterslides, goddammit! It was a fun day, people-who-shouldn't-be-wearing-bikinis and all.
Friday we were evacuated from the area because Hurricane Dennis was coming to destroy our lovely vacation destination and rape our women-folk. As we headed up through Alabama, watching the poor farms and trailer parks whiz by from our comfy motorhome chairs, I thought of the face-stuffing, fossil fuel-wasting time I had just had and shed a tear of mixed emotions: guilt, pleasure and a strong desire to buy golf clubs.
----------
Even though the sun-bathing part of our vacation had been cut short by that sass-pot Mother Nature, we still had some time on our hands as our flight out of Atlanta wasn't for a few days. Those last few days in the Columbus, GA (right outside of Ft. Benning) suburbs were some of the best. Because of Dennis' stormy tentacles, we were trapped inside most of the time and forced to watch hours of The Weather Channel/NASCAR, and occasionally talk politics. You can probably guess which part I favored. I soon learned that my uncle, for all of his Army Ranger psychosis/love of guzzling gas/obsession with football, NASCAR, and suburbanly-expensive toys, is one of my favorite people.
And that's what this vacation was about to me. A rediscovery of family and, in the greater sense, country--parts of which I had been out of touch with for a very long time.
I leave you with some of Uncle Tom's sensibilities on the pressing issues of today's world:
(spoken with heavy southern accent):
-Gay marriage: "I don't care who loves who. If two people think they're meant to be, what the f*ck do I care? I say, 'good for you.' "
-The war in Iraq: "This is the stupidest piece of sh*t war I've ever seen. We need to get the hell out of there. Now."
-Gays in the military: "If they want to serve, they should be able to serve. Hell, only two congressmen at this point have ever done military time and it doesn't look like they're signing up their children for this crap anytime soon."
-Hunting: "I like fishing. Fishing takes skill. Coming into the wild with a 12-gauge doesn't."
-Boats: "Sailing? Hell no. I got my Bass Tracker."
And, finally...
-Sharks: "The way I see it, we're guests in their home. How would you like it if a shark came into your living room?"
-My dad and uncle have both retired from the Army
-My cousin Andrew has gone from pipsqueak to star football player
-My parents have gotten divorced
-My dad has lived in Romania for four years
After being so separated from one another, all of a sudden going on a week- long vacation could prove to be very interesting.
That rang true the first night when, shortly after our arrival, I was brought up to speed on the complete Earnhart racing saga, especially the recent happenings of Dale Earnhart, Jr. ("Little E," as it turns out, has had a trying season--that first night was the Daytona Pepsi 400, in which he was routed by Tony Stewart. However, the tide was turned the past weekend at the Nextel Cup Series in Chicago. He drove it in to take the victory). I now know more about NASCAR than I ever thought I would want to.
After nursing a Coors Light ("the best beer," according Uncle T) hangover it was time to pack up the RV, two SUVs, a Ford F-150 (with FlowMaster exhaust) and a boat to head out to sunny and then-peaceful Destin, Florida. I decided to ride with the relatives in the aptly-named "Hurricane," a beautiful 40-foot house on wheels, complete with two TV's, a bathroom, kitchen, living room...yeah! I think I recall Uncle Tom saying it cost $125 to fill it up. I tried to abet my guilt by reminding myself that I recycle everything (including stories/jokes) and pride myself on the pedestrian lifestyle I lead. That being said, I'd rather ride shotgun in the Hurricane over the bomb-able BART any day!
Speaking of transportation, I have to admit that I had a slight fear that we were overdoing it. I mean, we (all six of us) were only going to be there for a week and we needed three gas-guzzling monster cars??
But once we pulled into Destin and I had myself a look around, I realized we fit right in with the rest of vacationing America.
Starving after a day on the road, we contemplated our first meal and decided on Hooters. Well, actually, this was my uncle's idea. Most decisions during the week were made by my uncle. All I have to say is the service was horrible?
After that we headed to Wal-Mart. You know, to stock up for the week. I couldn't believe how crowded Wal-Mart was at 11 pm on a Sunday! Perhaps its shiny lights and plastic junk are a welcome alternative to staring at your family while you're all on vacation.
On July Fourth, filled with the triumphant spirit of the USA, we took the boat out onto the sapphire-blue waters of the bay. There's something about motorboats that's quintessentially American. Maybe it's defying wind and water, maybe it's the obnoxious-turned-soothing whir of the motor, or maybe it's just the air in your salty hair. Whatever it is, it didn't matter because our boat shut down an hour into the trip. My dad was pissed because he drove it 1,000 miles and it broke on the first day out. Stuff like that happens to him all the time and sometimes I wonder if he's sort of a tragic character. Once we were back at the RV park, though, we mollified our maritime misery with some fresh-grilled amberjack, Silverbullet Smooth and, of course, Old Glory waving. Everything was fine again.
The rest of the week was a mixture of beach and American things like driving up and down the strip and eating bad foods that taste good. Thursday I headed to Big Kahuna's--a water slide park--with my cousin and his girlfriend. I had actually pledged not to attend a water park ever again in my life after my last experience a few years back, but Big Kahuna's was more about the slides than stagnant pools with baby poops. That and I had become bored with the beautiful waters of the Gulf Coast. I needed waterslides, goddammit! It was a fun day, people-who-shouldn't-be-wearing-bikinis and all.
Friday we were evacuated from the area because Hurricane Dennis was coming to destroy our lovely vacation destination and rape our women-folk. As we headed up through Alabama, watching the poor farms and trailer parks whiz by from our comfy motorhome chairs, I thought of the face-stuffing, fossil fuel-wasting time I had just had and shed a tear of mixed emotions: guilt, pleasure and a strong desire to buy golf clubs.
----------
Even though the sun-bathing part of our vacation had been cut short by that sass-pot Mother Nature, we still had some time on our hands as our flight out of Atlanta wasn't for a few days. Those last few days in the Columbus, GA (right outside of Ft. Benning) suburbs were some of the best. Because of Dennis' stormy tentacles, we were trapped inside most of the time and forced to watch hours of The Weather Channel/NASCAR, and occasionally talk politics. You can probably guess which part I favored. I soon learned that my uncle, for all of his Army Ranger psychosis/love of guzzling gas/obsession with football, NASCAR, and suburbanly-expensive toys, is one of my favorite people.
And that's what this vacation was about to me. A rediscovery of family and, in the greater sense, country--parts of which I had been out of touch with for a very long time.
I leave you with some of Uncle Tom's sensibilities on the pressing issues of today's world:
(spoken with heavy southern accent):
-Gay marriage: "I don't care who loves who. If two people think they're meant to be, what the f*ck do I care? I say, 'good for you.' "
-The war in Iraq: "This is the stupidest piece of sh*t war I've ever seen. We need to get the hell out of there. Now."
-Gays in the military: "If they want to serve, they should be able to serve. Hell, only two congressmen at this point have ever done military time and it doesn't look like they're signing up their children for this crap anytime soon."
-Hunting: "I like fishing. Fishing takes skill. Coming into the wild with a 12-gauge doesn't."
-Boats: "Sailing? Hell no. I got my Bass Tracker."
And, finally...
-Sharks: "The way I see it, we're guests in their home. How would you like it if a shark came into your living room?"
1.7.05
vaycay, sweetie
in florida until july 12. hopefully i won't get eaten by a shark.
if you are bored because i'm not posting, here are my suggestions:
-crawl past your roommate's bedroom mewing like a kitty. act like you're not doing anything weird
-give your bathroom a really good scrub down while listening to the rhythm of the saints. celebrate with a bloody mary
-remind yourself how much you hate blood cancers, love running marathons, and then donate to my team in training endeavor
if you are bored because i'm not posting, here are my suggestions:
-crawl past your roommate's bedroom mewing like a kitty. act like you're not doing anything weird
-give your bathroom a really good scrub down while listening to the rhythm of the saints. celebrate with a bloody mary
-remind yourself how much you hate blood cancers, love running marathons, and then donate to my team in training endeavor
29.6.05
the city by the bay
There's really no city like San Francisco, California.
I know, I know. You could say something like this about every city, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a city that doesn't have its quirks and specialties. To other cities' credit, they have their cool parts. But I've been to a lot of cities in my short time here on Earth and, so far, San Francisco is my favorite.
why I like San Francisco, California:
-Physical geography:
You've got the pristine and mysterious Pacific Ocean lapping to the left, making its way inland through the San Francisco Bay. As the water sprawls its way in, it surrounds the little islands (Alcatraz, Treasure, Yerba Buena) and fills any space bounded by Napa to the north, Berkeley and Oakland to the east, and Silicon Valley to the south. Its omnipotent aquidity gives you a floating feeling that whispers "life is what you want it to be." (Or maybe that's the voice in my head?)
You also have ginormous hills (in the east we call them 'mountains') of lush, moist rainforest green rising up past fog's reach and dipping right back down to the water's edge, rendering the landscape just as fluid as the seascape, and life equally as such.
Throw in sunshiney spreads, crisp glacial lakes, ripe vinifal valleys, rock-and-shrub mountains and arid mission towns--all within a short drive per cardinal direction--and your life is at your fingertips. Right now.
-Urban geography:
Every city has its "sections," usually based on ethnicity, but San Francisco throws ideals and lifestyles into the residential mix. In the Mission you'll find every Latin and Central American country represented via restaurants, cantinas, clubs and sidewalk markets and shops. And I truly mean "represented" to include the indigenous and beautifully-haphazard way these places are set up. (At Sonia's, for example, you'll find Sonia slowly cooking at a small kitchen with a play pen set up for her granddaughter and a box of tortillas on the floor next to the cash counter.) Set against a backdrop of Latin pop, bustling merchants, and smells food. You'll also find the gringos (non-Latin; artists, entrepreneurs, normal people) who've assimilated into this lifestyle living above all La Hubbub in tiny studios or 1BRs.
Other nabes:
Chinatown, Japantown, North Beach (vaudevillian/carnivalian/adult-night clubs/literary), The Castro (gay), and more. I'm not an expert in the least sense of the word, but this is what I've consumed as a short-time resident, and I love it. There's a place for everyone, even if you're normal.
But there's a constant throughout the urbus major--a sense of commonality--whether it's physical (in the ubiquitous pastel Victorians and square, Spanish-Scandinavian blockhouses), political (in the commitment to common-sense socioeconomic policies), mental (in that everyone has to deal with the bums), or simply visual (it's hard to find a place where you can't see the red spires of the Golden Gate Bridge).
-Human geography:
The people make San Francisco San Francisco.
Put simply:
In one block I saw a group of Latinos making cat calls; a fat, barefoot black lady wearing daisy dukes and screaming across the busy street at a wasted bum peeing himself; some 'bohemes' grabbing falafel sandwiches on the go; a lesbian couple holding hands; an Asian street merchant selling some shit; me in the reflection of the window of 826 Valencia; and a huge man in a pink fairy costume riding a bike.
My trip was fast and furious (Friday-Monday)--the details of which are not the focus of this particular post--but it was a much-needed break from the rigid, uptightity of DC. As a short contrast, we have one area, AdamsMorgan/Dupont, that is supposed to be cultural and thornily bohemian but it lasts all of a few blocks and can be considered pretty much unaffordable (at least on a receptionist's, er, office manager's budget. I share a 1BR). It's been whitewashed, gentrified and slowly homogenized.
I guess that's invetible, though.
Except in San Francisco, California.
I know, I know. You could say something like this about every city, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a city that doesn't have its quirks and specialties. To other cities' credit, they have their cool parts. But I've been to a lot of cities in my short time here on Earth and, so far, San Francisco is my favorite.
why I like San Francisco, California:
-Physical geography:
You've got the pristine and mysterious Pacific Ocean lapping to the left, making its way inland through the San Francisco Bay. As the water sprawls its way in, it surrounds the little islands (Alcatraz, Treasure, Yerba Buena) and fills any space bounded by Napa to the north, Berkeley and Oakland to the east, and Silicon Valley to the south. Its omnipotent aquidity gives you a floating feeling that whispers "life is what you want it to be." (Or maybe that's the voice in my head?)
You also have ginormous hills (in the east we call them 'mountains') of lush, moist rainforest green rising up past fog's reach and dipping right back down to the water's edge, rendering the landscape just as fluid as the seascape, and life equally as such.
Throw in sunshiney spreads, crisp glacial lakes, ripe vinifal valleys, rock-and-shrub mountains and arid mission towns--all within a short drive per cardinal direction--and your life is at your fingertips. Right now.
-Urban geography:
Every city has its "sections," usually based on ethnicity, but San Francisco throws ideals and lifestyles into the residential mix. In the Mission you'll find every Latin and Central American country represented via restaurants, cantinas, clubs and sidewalk markets and shops. And I truly mean "represented" to include the indigenous and beautifully-haphazard way these places are set up. (At Sonia's, for example, you'll find Sonia slowly cooking at a small kitchen with a play pen set up for her granddaughter and a box of tortillas on the floor next to the cash counter.) Set against a backdrop of Latin pop, bustling merchants, and smells food. You'll also find the gringos (non-Latin; artists, entrepreneurs, normal people) who've assimilated into this lifestyle living above all La Hubbub in tiny studios or 1BRs.
Other nabes:
Chinatown, Japantown, North Beach (vaudevillian/carnivalian/adult-night clubs/literary), The Castro (gay), and more. I'm not an expert in the least sense of the word, but this is what I've consumed as a short-time resident, and I love it. There's a place for everyone, even if you're normal.
But there's a constant throughout the urbus major--a sense of commonality--whether it's physical (in the ubiquitous pastel Victorians and square, Spanish-Scandinavian blockhouses), political (in the commitment to common-sense socioeconomic policies), mental (in that everyone has to deal with the bums), or simply visual (it's hard to find a place where you can't see the red spires of the Golden Gate Bridge).
-Human geography:
The people make San Francisco San Francisco.
Put simply:
In one block I saw a group of Latinos making cat calls; a fat, barefoot black lady wearing daisy dukes and screaming across the busy street at a wasted bum peeing himself; some 'bohemes' grabbing falafel sandwiches on the go; a lesbian couple holding hands; an Asian street merchant selling some shit; me in the reflection of the window of 826 Valencia; and a huge man in a pink fairy costume riding a bike.
My trip was fast and furious (Friday-Monday)--the details of which are not the focus of this particular post--but it was a much-needed break from the rigid, uptightity of DC. As a short contrast, we have one area, AdamsMorgan/Dupont, that is supposed to be cultural and thornily bohemian but it lasts all of a few blocks and can be considered pretty much unaffordable (at least on a receptionist's, er, office manager's budget. I share a 1BR). It's been whitewashed, gentrified and slowly homogenized.
I guess that's invetible, though.
Except in San Francisco, California.
20.6.05
when I grow up
24. food critic
23. actress
22. mountain climber
21. curator, Metropolitan Museum of Art
20. skyscraper window washer
19. professional surfer
18. astronaut
17. paper archivist, National Archives
16. tie: brewmaster or European
15. travel writer
14. oceanic biologist
13. UN Secretary General
12. sommelier
11. Olympic triathlete
10. classical guitarist
9. princess
8. tie: zoologist-serengeti large mammal division or DJ
7. chef
6. etymologist-lexicographer
5. beekeeper
4. Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court
3. orchestra conductor
2. teacher or journalist/correspondent (same to me)
1. linguist spy
23. actress
22. mountain climber
21. curator, Metropolitan Museum of Art
20. skyscraper window washer
19. professional surfer
18. astronaut
17. paper archivist, National Archives
16. tie: brewmaster or European
15. travel writer
14. oceanic biologist
13. UN Secretary General
12. sommelier
11. Olympic triathlete
10. classical guitarist
9. princess
8. tie: zoologist-serengeti large mammal division or DJ
7. chef
6. etymologist-lexicographer
5. beekeeper
4. Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court
3. orchestra conductor
2. teacher or journalist/correspondent (same to me)
1. linguist spy
do you think this is important?
Last Thursday, a subcommittee of the U.S. House of Representatives voted to cut federal funding for public broadcasting by 45%. The proposed cuts eliminate funding for the Ready to Learn program, which supports educational, commercial-free children’s programming on public television. In addition, it acted to eliminate within two years all federal money for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting starting with a 25% reduction in CPB's budget for next year, from $400 million to $300 million. This week, the House is expected to vote on the budget which includes these cuts.
This raises a lot of questions, the most important of which is simply whether having publically-funded, non-commercial media is worth paying for.
What do you think?
Whichever 'side' you're on, I urge you to make a quick call to your congressperson's office and let him or her know what you think.
Dear Rep. Platts (PA-19):
I am writing to express my concern over the recent House Appropriation Committee decision to cut funding for public broadcasting.
On the national level, I am sure that you have already heard the arguments for and/or against this decision. But I write to you as a long-time citizen of Central PA.
As you are well aware, the Central PA region is a beautiful mixture of rural, town and small-city life, rife with rich American history and a burgeoning future of small-business as well as national commerce. From town to town and village to village, we are all connected by our regional similarities; though it might be a 15 minute drive, each one of us has a stake in the "next town over."
As you are also aware, the National Public Radio affiliate, WITF-FM (and PBS WITF-TV), works very hard to keep the community connected by covering Central PA news and goings-on. From its educational "Explore PA History" program to the only non-commercial classical music in the area, to its daily news coverage, I believe that WITF is an indispensable independent source of news and information for the area I've lived in and which you represent.
I believe, Mr. Platts, that one of the best things you could do for me as my congressman, is to say 'no' to this decision when it gets to the House floor.
In doing so, you will actually be saying 'yes' to an investment in the Central PA community. You would be saying
"Yes, in the face of big media mergers, low-quality news coverage from the networks, and A.D.D.-inducing commercial programming, the CentPA community deserves a balance. They deserve an alternative. They deserve a station which covers what's happening in my electoral district with deliberation and a commitment to my constituents' well-being, and the general public good. Sure, it costs money, but that cost is a pittance when compared to other projects and appropriations I consider here in Washington. And the return--the opportunity for my fellow CentPA citizens to have a sound source of news, information, and other educational programming--is priceless."
Please say yes to me and my fellow CPA'ers by saying NO to cutting funding for public broadcasting.
Thanks,
Emilie Cole
p.s. I think ponies are cute and my T-ball team just won our league champonchips.
This raises a lot of questions, the most important of which is simply whether having publically-funded, non-commercial media is worth paying for.
What do you think?
Whichever 'side' you're on, I urge you to make a quick call to your congressperson's office and let him or her know what you think.
Dear Rep. Platts (PA-19):
I am writing to express my concern over the recent House Appropriation Committee decision to cut funding for public broadcasting.
On the national level, I am sure that you have already heard the arguments for and/or against this decision. But I write to you as a long-time citizen of Central PA.
As you are well aware, the Central PA region is a beautiful mixture of rural, town and small-city life, rife with rich American history and a burgeoning future of small-business as well as national commerce. From town to town and village to village, we are all connected by our regional similarities; though it might be a 15 minute drive, each one of us has a stake in the "next town over."
As you are also aware, the National Public Radio affiliate, WITF-FM (and PBS WITF-TV), works very hard to keep the community connected by covering Central PA news and goings-on. From its educational "Explore PA History" program to the only non-commercial classical music in the area, to its daily news coverage, I believe that WITF is an indispensable independent source of news and information for the area I've lived in and which you represent.
I believe, Mr. Platts, that one of the best things you could do for me as my congressman, is to say 'no' to this decision when it gets to the House floor.
In doing so, you will actually be saying 'yes' to an investment in the Central PA community. You would be saying
"Yes, in the face of big media mergers, low-quality news coverage from the networks, and A.D.D.-inducing commercial programming, the CentPA community deserves a balance. They deserve an alternative. They deserve a station which covers what's happening in my electoral district with deliberation and a commitment to my constituents' well-being, and the general public good. Sure, it costs money, but that cost is a pittance when compared to other projects and appropriations I consider here in Washington. And the return--the opportunity for my fellow CentPA citizens to have a sound source of news, information, and other educational programming--is priceless."
Please say yes to me and my fellow CPA'ers by saying NO to cutting funding for public broadcasting.
Thanks,
Emilie Cole
p.s. I think ponies are cute and my T-ball team just won our league champonchips.
18.6.05
i'll just admit it right now: i don't have any major things figured out yet
[Back in Carlisle for the weekend...having a good time chillin' with friends and dad (a lot of people are back in town). Today we drove around in the country, went canoeing did a small hike, bbq, beer/deck, etc. It's such a pastoral place--lush and untouched.]
Today I was giving a lot of thought to my peers and friends who seem to think they know what they're doing with themselves/their lives.
I just don't understand how you have all of the major questions answered already. Perhaps I'm far behind, or maybe it's that they are getting ahead of themselves?
People are getting married (and divorced), some know their calling and others have done complete 180's in just the past six months alone. Either going from being attached at the hip to a complete player, or the opposite: declaration of no desire to settle down/fear of commitment/mover&shaker type to all of a sudden settling down/committing/docility (not in a negative way).
It's not bad, just interesting to observe.
I know that, at a certain point, the "writing's on the wall." It's hard to ignore reality/fate slapping you directly in the face.
But sometimes I wonder how much of that we make up, or which "signs" we construct just to feel some sort of stability for once. Or which conclusions are hasty. Or maybe we're sick of the old ways, so "this will do" "because it's not bad" and "mostly good."
Or how much we are turning into our parents and the older generations we sometimes chided for thinking that everything that happens is somehow "proof" of what we believe; everything we come across is somehow evidence that we've made the right decision or that our opinions are the right ones. (Like Belly said, "Feed the tree").
I would just hate for us to be wearing the blinders already at such young ages.
Today I was giving a lot of thought to my peers and friends who seem to think they know what they're doing with themselves/their lives.
I just don't understand how you have all of the major questions answered already. Perhaps I'm far behind, or maybe it's that they are getting ahead of themselves?
People are getting married (and divorced), some know their calling and others have done complete 180's in just the past six months alone. Either going from being attached at the hip to a complete player, or the opposite: declaration of no desire to settle down/fear of commitment/mover&shaker type to all of a sudden settling down/committing/docility (not in a negative way).
It's not bad, just interesting to observe.
I know that, at a certain point, the "writing's on the wall." It's hard to ignore reality/fate slapping you directly in the face.
But sometimes I wonder how much of that we make up, or which "signs" we construct just to feel some sort of stability for once. Or which conclusions are hasty. Or maybe we're sick of the old ways, so "this will do" "because it's not bad" and "mostly good."
Or how much we are turning into our parents and the older generations we sometimes chided for thinking that everything that happens is somehow "proof" of what we believe; everything we come across is somehow evidence that we've made the right decision or that our opinions are the right ones. (Like Belly said, "Feed the tree").
I would just hate for us to be wearing the blinders already at such young ages.
17.6.05
10.6.05
a first
I have never said something like this before, but
Crash is the best movie I have ever seen in my entire life
Crash is the best movie I have ever seen in my entire life
9.6.05
Q: que hora en mi corazón?
-Manu Chao
A: "It's five o'clock somewhere"
-Alan Jackson
As many of you know, I'm in a relationship that just so happened to pass the two-year mark. On one hand, whoop-dee-fucking-do (as my mom would so aptly state. I think she's a nihilist). But on another, I've been thinking more and more about what it is that I need (or atleast 'think' I need) in a relationship and, thus, from another person.
In the haze that is figuring out onesself (especially when you're a gemini, which I am, because you'll come to a conclusion one day and a different one the next), I think I have a somewhat clear idea of what kinds of things will win my heart for eternity, if that's at all possible:
-The Ability To Pick Up After Onesself:
For the record, this does not mean "be a neat freak or possess other OCD-like qualities." However, I think it boils down to something to do with self respect. Again, my geminitic impulses want to hit backspace through that whole previous sentence because I quickly question whether I have the right to define properties of self respect (self respect for someone else could mean rejecting this fuddy-duddy notion).
But, for me, I have pretty much concluded that Picking Up After Onesself entails an awareness of one's surroundings, one's impact on them, and one's impact on others in said surroundings. It's also something I was brought up to do. Simply put, things have places and we should put them there.
-The Ability To Listen To Me, And, Furthermore, Understand My Point Of View:
For some reason, I've been blessed (cursed?) with the ability to comprehend what anyone says, ever. Except when what the person is saying is based on the ridiculous notion that I don't understand what they are saying. Get it?
Perhaps it's because I'm the oldest child and therefore I had to communicate with both my parents and my younger brother. Or maybe my parents raised me a bit too adult-ish, choosing to reason with me rather than order me around. Or perhaps it's that gemini thing again; I just have so many personalities that I have to understand ones not pertaining to myself. Crazy!
I dunno. But it's the way I am and I really like it when others can be the same way. Thankfully, I think all of my friends happen to be this way.
-The Ability To Be Up For Anything, Anytime, Anywhere:
I am a self-proclaimed triple-A kind of gal.
Wanna get a bite to eat at The Diner? OK!
How about going running? Sounds like fun!
Naked? Even better!
How does playing hide and seek at midnight sound? Like fun!
or
Wanna just sit here doing nothing? Cool!
-The Ability To Hang Out With My Friends When I'm Not There
self-explanatory
-The Ability (And Desire) To Complete A Power-Hour:
In fact, what would seal it is if one endured the labor pains that entail making a Power Hour mix tape. That would show me that
A) one enjoys a heavy swizzle session now and then
B) one is creative and, for certain events, can be detail-oriented
C) one at least knows 60 fun drinking songs ("fun" is a very open-ended term)
So, there one has it. It's not much and there are probably others. Additionally, some might leave my list of amorous assets if I think too hard about it all.
oh...
-The Ability To Think Too Hard And Also To Not Think Too Hard About Things
A: "It's five o'clock somewhere"
-Alan Jackson
As many of you know, I'm in a relationship that just so happened to pass the two-year mark. On one hand, whoop-dee-fucking-do (as my mom would so aptly state. I think she's a nihilist). But on another, I've been thinking more and more about what it is that I need (or atleast 'think' I need) in a relationship and, thus, from another person.
In the haze that is figuring out onesself (especially when you're a gemini, which I am, because you'll come to a conclusion one day and a different one the next), I think I have a somewhat clear idea of what kinds of things will win my heart for eternity, if that's at all possible:
-The Ability To Pick Up After Onesself:
For the record, this does not mean "be a neat freak or possess other OCD-like qualities." However, I think it boils down to something to do with self respect. Again, my geminitic impulses want to hit backspace through that whole previous sentence because I quickly question whether I have the right to define properties of self respect (self respect for someone else could mean rejecting this fuddy-duddy notion).
But, for me, I have pretty much concluded that Picking Up After Onesself entails an awareness of one's surroundings, one's impact on them, and one's impact on others in said surroundings. It's also something I was brought up to do. Simply put, things have places and we should put them there.
-The Ability To Listen To Me, And, Furthermore, Understand My Point Of View:
For some reason, I've been blessed (cursed?) with the ability to comprehend what anyone says, ever. Except when what the person is saying is based on the ridiculous notion that I don't understand what they are saying. Get it?
Perhaps it's because I'm the oldest child and therefore I had to communicate with both my parents and my younger brother. Or maybe my parents raised me a bit too adult-ish, choosing to reason with me rather than order me around. Or perhaps it's that gemini thing again; I just have so many personalities that I have to understand ones not pertaining to myself. Crazy!
I dunno. But it's the way I am and I really like it when others can be the same way. Thankfully, I think all of my friends happen to be this way.
-The Ability To Be Up For Anything, Anytime, Anywhere:
I am a self-proclaimed triple-A kind of gal.
Wanna get a bite to eat at The Diner? OK!
How about going running? Sounds like fun!
Naked? Even better!
How does playing hide and seek at midnight sound? Like fun!
or
Wanna just sit here doing nothing? Cool!
-The Ability To Hang Out With My Friends When I'm Not There
self-explanatory
-The Ability (And Desire) To Complete A Power-Hour:
In fact, what would seal it is if one endured the labor pains that entail making a Power Hour mix tape. That would show me that
A) one enjoys a heavy swizzle session now and then
B) one is creative and, for certain events, can be detail-oriented
C) one at least knows 60 fun drinking songs ("fun" is a very open-ended term)
So, there one has it. It's not much and there are probably others. Additionally, some might leave my list of amorous assets if I think too hard about it all.
oh...
-The Ability To Think Too Hard And Also To Not Think Too Hard About Things
8.6.05
6.6.05
mondays
I consider Mondays really important for my health (The other days, well, those are a different story...).
Sometimes, if I'm going to yoga in the evening, I only eat raw foods and only drink water. If I'm not going to yoga (like today), then I simply don't intake anything except water for 24 hours.
I like to do this in order to start my week off right, to give myself a rest from digesting (or whatever you call the weekend's fare) and just to bring my body to a more balanced state. Additionally, I think it's important to go without food for a least a day per month to better understand those who have to on a regular basis. It's not some weird martyr mentality--I know my mini-fast isn't helping anyone else per se--but it's helping me understand 'what it's like,' even if for a mere day, the experience of which will come into play when I make decisions that hopefully and eventually help someone else.
Also, it's a great feeling of accomplishment the next day and it makes me appreciate tastes, flavors and textures so much more, even after such a small time off. I like how I feel and knowing that I just did my body a favor; I gave it a break.
The sucky part is staring at this mother fucking candy dish all day long.
Sometimes, if I'm going to yoga in the evening, I only eat raw foods and only drink water. If I'm not going to yoga (like today), then I simply don't intake anything except water for 24 hours.
I like to do this in order to start my week off right, to give myself a rest from digesting (or whatever you call the weekend's fare) and just to bring my body to a more balanced state. Additionally, I think it's important to go without food for a least a day per month to better understand those who have to on a regular basis. It's not some weird martyr mentality--I know my mini-fast isn't helping anyone else per se--but it's helping me understand 'what it's like,' even if for a mere day, the experience of which will come into play when I make decisions that hopefully and eventually help someone else.
Also, it's a great feeling of accomplishment the next day and it makes me appreciate tastes, flavors and textures so much more, even after such a small time off. I like how I feel and knowing that I just did my body a favor; I gave it a break.
The sucky part is staring at this mother fucking candy dish all day long.
everything
This weekend I was asked what kind of music I liked. This isn't an odd question at all, but for some reason my answer seems odd to almost all of my inquisitors: everything.
Do I really have to "prove" that this reply is legitimate by rattling off some indie bands or talk about the production circle between Dan 'the Automater' Nakamura, Prince Paul and everyone in between?
Or note how ironically tortured Beethoven was when he composed his joyful Symphony No. 9?
Or explain the juxtaposition of traditional slave song and Celtic folk that is bluegrass music?
I don't feel like I should have to, but too many times have I either encountered a surprised face or a skeptical one.
Does this make me spineless? Unable to form my own opinions about music? Does it even matter if you think I'm an big fat liar for liking everything?
No,
no
and no,
respectively.
Do I really have to "prove" that this reply is legitimate by rattling off some indie bands or talk about the production circle between Dan 'the Automater' Nakamura, Prince Paul and everyone in between?
Or note how ironically tortured Beethoven was when he composed his joyful Symphony No. 9?
Or explain the juxtaposition of traditional slave song and Celtic folk that is bluegrass music?
I don't feel like I should have to, but too many times have I either encountered a surprised face or a skeptical one.
Does this make me spineless? Unable to form my own opinions about music? Does it even matter if you think I'm an big fat liar for liking everything?
No,
no
and no,
respectively.
1.6.05
misc. wednesday
-As highly unlikely it is that I ever become a famous government leak, if so, I'd really appreciate a cool nickname. "Deep Throat" is not such a nickname.
-Alison Krauss could very well be the first bluegrass artist on crack.
-Apparently The Iliad isn't the most exciting book ever written. Either that, or I'm just not that committed.
-I really don't think there's anything wrong with having a mimosa during breakfast.
Even on weekdays.
At 7 am.
I mean, right?
-In 23 days, Li'l Kim will face sentencing regarding a guilty charge in a 2001 shootout.
I'm not sure what I'll do if she's put in the slammer. I mean, have you heard "Not Tonight"?? Not only an outrage, this might be one of the biggest tragedies of the 21st Century.
-What the hell ever happened to Sarah McLachlan?
-I actually don't care what the answer is.
-In practical terms, nothing really matters. When speaking impractically, everything does.
-Let it be knownst throughout the land that, yes, you can look up other people's phone numbers while you are on your cell phone. Got that dad?
-Speaking of my dad, welcome back after 3 years in Bucharest!
-Also, congratulations to my cousin Katie who yesterday became engaged!
-A whole round of younger high school friends recently graduated college. To them, I say:
"Just follow your dreams. Even if they lead you to a shitty shitty place, in reality it can't be shitty because your dreams led you there."
-I'm not one of those people who was obsessed with Bob Edwards. But I have to admit that after a year of Steve Inskeep & Renee Montagne, I wish NPR had used better decision-making skills.
Please don't tell NPR I said that.
-Two numbers total 96 when added together. One is three times as large as the other. What are the numbers?
-Let's just say that the "readership poll" didn't really turn out the way I thought.
Oh, 'the way I thought' was that more than 7 people read my blog.
So, thanks liz, spoon, molly, allie, eric, kelly and ren. You guys are the best. Sniff sniff.
-I'm over that now.
-I used to have a weird thing for knowing about all the different Gore-Tex parkas on the market. I don't have that thing anymore.
-Alison Krauss could very well be the first bluegrass artist on crack.
-Apparently The Iliad isn't the most exciting book ever written. Either that, or I'm just not that committed.
-I really don't think there's anything wrong with having a mimosa during breakfast.
Even on weekdays.
At 7 am.
I mean, right?
-In 23 days, Li'l Kim will face sentencing regarding a guilty charge in a 2001 shootout.
I'm not sure what I'll do if she's put in the slammer. I mean, have you heard "Not Tonight"?? Not only an outrage, this might be one of the biggest tragedies of the 21st Century.
-What the hell ever happened to Sarah McLachlan?
-I actually don't care what the answer is.
-In practical terms, nothing really matters. When speaking impractically, everything does.
-Let it be knownst throughout the land that, yes, you can look up other people's phone numbers while you are on your cell phone. Got that dad?
-Speaking of my dad, welcome back after 3 years in Bucharest!
-Also, congratulations to my cousin Katie who yesterday became engaged!
-A whole round of younger high school friends recently graduated college. To them, I say:
"Just follow your dreams. Even if they lead you to a shitty shitty place, in reality it can't be shitty because your dreams led you there."
-I'm not one of those people who was obsessed with Bob Edwards. But I have to admit that after a year of Steve Inskeep & Renee Montagne, I wish NPR had used better decision-making skills.
Please don't tell NPR I said that.
-Two numbers total 96 when added together. One is three times as large as the other. What are the numbers?
-Let's just say that the "readership poll" didn't really turn out the way I thought.
Oh, 'the way I thought' was that more than 7 people read my blog.
So, thanks liz, spoon, molly, allie, eric, kelly and ren. You guys are the best. Sniff sniff.
-I'm over that now.
-I used to have a weird thing for knowing about all the different Gore-Tex parkas on the market. I don't have that thing anymore.
31.5.05
the principle of it all
We have a plant lady here at Triumph D.
I have asked her, everytime she's in on her weekly watering/pruning, if she could please get me an aloe plant for my office space, and everytime she says yes.
This has been going on for,
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,
5 months.
The aloe plant is not that important.
I mean, yes, it's an important plant,
but no it's not important for me to have one right this second goddammit.
But, I mean, come on, Jan. Your only job is to go to offices, water their plants, and successfully fulfill new-plant orders.
And I understand if it's not aloe season.
It could very well be the exact opposite time of year in which aloe and aloe plants are harvested. Also could just simply not available to the community as a whole at this current time.
I also understand if you keep forgetting the aloe plant.
I'm sure you see a lot of people whose flora needs are above those of mine.
I also understand if you hate me because I slept with your husband and then stuffed your kitty in the laundry chute.
But still.
It's your job.
I have asked her, everytime she's in on her weekly watering/pruning, if she could please get me an aloe plant for my office space, and everytime she says yes.
This has been going on for,
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,
5 months.
The aloe plant is not that important.
I mean, yes, it's an important plant,
but no it's not important for me to have one right this second goddammit.
But, I mean, come on, Jan. Your only job is to go to offices, water their plants, and successfully fulfill new-plant orders.
And I understand if it's not aloe season.
It could very well be the exact opposite time of year in which aloe and aloe plants are harvested. Also could just simply not available to the community as a whole at this current time.
I also understand if you keep forgetting the aloe plant.
I'm sure you see a lot of people whose flora needs are above those of mine.
I also understand if you hate me because I slept with your husband and then stuffed your kitty in the laundry chute.
But still.
It's your job.
17.5.05
readership poll
hey there, blog-readin' buds!
as the 6-month anniversary of em approaches, I've been wondering a few things:
-does anyone care what I'm talking about
-if so, how many people
Thus I have a small favor to ask you, special friend. It's like REALLY small considering all the 'hard work' I put in to possibly entertaining/amusing you (or boring, or angering...).
So, if you read this, please leave a comment with:
-your initials
-when you think going commando is appropriate, if at all.
I will take a blogging break as the results trickle in (probably very slowly).
Cheers,
-egc
-personally, I'm without undies most of the time. except never (OK, rarely) with skirts and never-ever if I'm riding my robotic stegosaurus-camel, Buckwheat II.
And never-ever-ever during that 'time.'
ps-I'm not worried about the results of this poll b/c it's not like I'm racking in the comments anyway
as the 6-month anniversary of em approaches, I've been wondering a few things:
-does anyone care what I'm talking about
-if so, how many people
Thus I have a small favor to ask you, special friend. It's like REALLY small considering all the 'hard work' I put in to possibly entertaining/amusing you (or boring, or angering...).
So, if you read this, please leave a comment with:
-your initials
-when you think going commando is appropriate, if at all.
I will take a blogging break as the results trickle in (probably very slowly).
Cheers,
-egc
-personally, I'm without undies most of the time. except never (OK, rarely) with skirts and never-ever if I'm riding my robotic stegosaurus-camel, Buckwheat II.
And never-ever-ever during that 'time.'
ps-I'm not worried about the results of this poll b/c it's not like I'm racking in the comments anyway
16.5.05
triple play
In my series of baseball firsts, this weekend marked my first series and, consequentially, a further realization of just how applicable and exemplary baseball truly is to my (and any American's) life.
How can I feel a connection to a team I never knew? To a sport that, on the surface, seems so different from my actual existence? And, perhaps more important, what made me think that Bud Lite is worth $6 a bottle?
I'll probably expand on these questions more throughout the season, but for now the answer, I'm finding, is simple:
it's fun.
And unlike any other fun I've ever had.
How can I feel a connection to a team I never knew? To a sport that, on the surface, seems so different from my actual existence? And, perhaps more important, what made me think that Bud Lite is worth $6 a bottle?
I'll probably expand on these questions more throughout the season, but for now the answer, I'm finding, is simple:
it's fun.
And unlike any other fun I've ever had.
11.5.05
misc. wednesday
This will update as the day continues...
-After 10 years of wanting to do so, last night I finally got to tell Emily Saliers 'thank you.' She is my personal hero.
-The Golden Rule rarely works for me. If it did, I'd see more respect and compassion from others.
-However, I will still treat those others with respect and compassion until the day I die.
-I am so happy Uchenna and Joyce (husband and wife) won The Amazing Race! Not only because Boston Rob and Amber are schmucks and Ron and Kelley are just plain idiots, but because U & J kept a positive mindset during the whole thing, and it's good to see that pay off.
$1 million to be exact.
-I think I would win The Amazing Race, no matter who my partner was.
-Sometimes I really miss driving. I love driving and singing.
-I'm glad I'm not petrol-dependent right now.
-Arianna Huffington has a blog now. It's not as good as ours, though. In fact, I think it kind of sucks.
If I'm going to read some lady's take on things, I'd rather it be Ann Coulter's. At least it's interesting.
-The Mountain Goats recently came to town. I passed up the opportunity to see them.
Not because I don't like their music; actually, I've yet to hear them.
It's just that knew it I wouldn't be able to enjoy it at this time. I know my limits.
-I've found that adding goat cheese and/or avocado to any meal will make it 6-7 times better, depending on what the meal is in the first place.
-I hate the terms "chick rock" and "bleeding vagina music."
Not only is the latter offensive (see: genital mutilation), but
if you were part of a population who had been marginalized for centuries and you finally found widespread liberty of creative power and voice, only to still be marginalized by
male-dominated social thought, you'd be a little angry, too.
Then only to have your anger be written off by the nomenclature above...
Sheesh, give the gals a break.
I'm not sayin' it's all good music or that it can't be joked about, but there's a reason for it and it's OK to understand that.
Plus, it just takes a little weeding through to find the good stuff.
-On a similar note, I know some guys who could definitely work on getting in touch with their feminine side.
Yes, you have one.
-I've had no reason to complain about anything in quite a while now.
-The Ford Foundation is going to give millions of dollars to NPR and PBS in the next year.
That makes NPR's biggest recent funders McDonald's and Ford Motors. Hmmm...
I guess that's OK.
-I have somehow managed to get the best people as my friends. For that I am truly bless-ed.
-A friend recently told me "I'd love to be a vegetarian; it's just that I hate vegetables."
I think you could fill in 'vegetarian' and 'vegetables' with any other two related things and this statement could be one way of explaining human nature:
fear/hatred of what we could be.*
-I believe understanding one's feelings is fundamental to clear decision making and, ultimately, understanding one's self. Dan thinks there's no need to understand one's feelings because he believes they are fleeting and distractionary apparitions. Perhaps they are fleeting (not distractionary), but I still think I'm right about what to do with them.
-I'm looking very forward to Friday's happy hour and Nats game! $4 pitchers of ML & seeing the home team...what could be better?
Oh yeah, respect and compassion from others.
-It's a beautiful day!
*This doesn't apply to everyone, myself included. It's just one possiblity of many.
-After 10 years of wanting to do so, last night I finally got to tell Emily Saliers 'thank you.' She is my personal hero.
-The Golden Rule rarely works for me. If it did, I'd see more respect and compassion from others.
-However, I will still treat those others with respect and compassion until the day I die.
-I am so happy Uchenna and Joyce (husband and wife) won The Amazing Race! Not only because Boston Rob and Amber are schmucks and Ron and Kelley are just plain idiots, but because U & J kept a positive mindset during the whole thing, and it's good to see that pay off.
$1 million to be exact.
-I think I would win The Amazing Race, no matter who my partner was.
-Sometimes I really miss driving. I love driving and singing.
-I'm glad I'm not petrol-dependent right now.
-Arianna Huffington has a blog now. It's not as good as ours, though. In fact, I think it kind of sucks.
If I'm going to read some lady's take on things, I'd rather it be Ann Coulter's. At least it's interesting.
-The Mountain Goats recently came to town. I passed up the opportunity to see them.
Not because I don't like their music; actually, I've yet to hear them.
It's just that knew it I wouldn't be able to enjoy it at this time. I know my limits.
-I've found that adding goat cheese and/or avocado to any meal will make it 6-7 times better, depending on what the meal is in the first place.
-I hate the terms "chick rock" and "bleeding vagina music."
Not only is the latter offensive (see: genital mutilation), but
if you were part of a population who had been marginalized for centuries and you finally found widespread liberty of creative power and voice, only to still be marginalized by
male-dominated social thought, you'd be a little angry, too.
Then only to have your anger be written off by the nomenclature above...
Sheesh, give the gals a break.
I'm not sayin' it's all good music or that it can't be joked about, but there's a reason for it and it's OK to understand that.
Plus, it just takes a little weeding through to find the good stuff.
-On a similar note, I know some guys who could definitely work on getting in touch with their feminine side.
Yes, you have one.
-I've had no reason to complain about anything in quite a while now.
-The Ford Foundation is going to give millions of dollars to NPR and PBS in the next year.
That makes NPR's biggest recent funders McDonald's and Ford Motors. Hmmm...
I guess that's OK.
-I have somehow managed to get the best people as my friends. For that I am truly bless-ed.
-A friend recently told me "I'd love to be a vegetarian; it's just that I hate vegetables."
I think you could fill in 'vegetarian' and 'vegetables' with any other two related things and this statement could be one way of explaining human nature:
fear/hatred of what we could be.*
-I believe understanding one's feelings is fundamental to clear decision making and, ultimately, understanding one's self. Dan thinks there's no need to understand one's feelings because he believes they are fleeting and distractionary apparitions. Perhaps they are fleeting (not distractionary), but I still think I'm right about what to do with them.
-I'm looking very forward to Friday's happy hour and Nats game! $4 pitchers of ML & seeing the home team...what could be better?
Oh yeah, respect and compassion from others.
-It's a beautiful day!
*This doesn't apply to everyone, myself included. It's just one possiblity of many.
9.5.05
'cemb'rists
1). the concert. watching a group of dorks on stage playing their melodies, singing their tales, living their lives, I felt that energy they exuded-- confirming within me that I, too, can take my life anywhere I want it to go.
...excepting fate's mighty gusts, which may very well lead me into a belly of a whale.
It would be scary, but I think I'd make it out OK.
I mean, I've made it this far.
2). Colin Meloy and I are friendster friends
...excepting fate's mighty gusts, which may very well lead me into a belly of a whale.
It would be scary, but I think I'd make it out OK.
I mean, I've made it this far.
2). Colin Meloy and I are friendster friends
4.5.05
media pt.2
From my comment in the below post, media, which I've chosen to add as a new post...
Let's break this down.
News is supposed to be "what's going on right now."
What people decide to report is where the bias factor comes in, because choice/discretion is involved. For example, and like Michael Moore pointed out in "Bowling for Columbine," the Canadian news reports on things like potholes or new community gardens.
Perhaps more "positive" than crime, fires and death, it's still "biased" towards what those news directors believe is newsworthy.
Obviously when the news is "tied" to the free market, it has to produce a successful "product" if it wants to earn those advertising revenue dollars. Even if it's "public" radio or TV it has to appease what its supporters (the listener/viewer) want to be covered.
You (Spooner) asked in your comment:
"How plausible is it to attempt to provide news for both sides, or do we abandon that idea entirely?"
Not only is this a leading question (it makes the answer have to be either 'plausible' or an admission that we've 'abandoned the idea'), but a good one. I think it's completely plausible for news to cover both sides, if that's what the listener/viewer wants.
"Is it better to know the leanings of your media source than have them hide it?"
Obviously it's better, but who's going to admit "Our media is liberal" or "Our news covers conservative goings-on in a positive manner"?
I ask:
Should a news organization's "leanings" be defined by that organization, or by outside organizations, like it is now?
What makes a media outlet "liberal" or "conservative" in the first place?
Using traditional definitions of the terms, "liberal" media would be covering a vastly wide array of topics with an equally-as-vast range of angles, sources, commentary and such. "Conservative" media would cover the basics using only strictly-factual information.
In this light, every news media I've seen is by nature "liberal."
Getting back to the issues at hand (also prompted by your comment), the yeomanification of media and information makes it ironically possible for
A) many more perspectives to be added to our daily choice
and, at the same time,
B) the prospect that people could become even more narrow-minded
My solution, like everything, lies in personal choice. And don't get me wrong, I've wrestled with the devil's-advocate query of "but how can uneducated people tell the difference? Aren't they being manipulated/taken advantage of? They don't really have a choice"
Perhaps, but in a sense that's not my problem. My problem is producing good news or being a good teacher and hope that my good/educational programming reaches out to a thirsty mind somewhere. Of course what I think is "good" or "educational" is, in essence, biased, and that's why you can either listen to it or not.
I've reached a point here in this comment where my original post began:
the "media" is such an interesting concept. It's just regular ol' people "informing" other regular ol' people about some thing or another.
The way this is happening is changing, and I think it's completely fascinating.
Might I also add here that all of this is why, in my mind, spelling, punctuation and grammar are so very important, even in personal web logs. Contrary to some's opinion, by attempting to correct these things I'm not trying to be annoying or nitpicky. Perhaps it has to do a little with my inherited eye for detail (not my fault).
But more importantly, it just keeps some sort of 'standard' running through the ba-gillions of data out here in bloggerland.
Let's break this down.
News is supposed to be "what's going on right now."
What people decide to report is where the bias factor comes in, because choice/discretion is involved. For example, and like Michael Moore pointed out in "Bowling for Columbine," the Canadian news reports on things like potholes or new community gardens.
Perhaps more "positive" than crime, fires and death, it's still "biased" towards what those news directors believe is newsworthy.
Obviously when the news is "tied" to the free market, it has to produce a successful "product" if it wants to earn those advertising revenue dollars. Even if it's "public" radio or TV it has to appease what its supporters (the listener/viewer) want to be covered.
You (Spooner) asked in your comment:
"How plausible is it to attempt to provide news for both sides, or do we abandon that idea entirely?"
Not only is this a leading question (it makes the answer have to be either 'plausible' or an admission that we've 'abandoned the idea'), but a good one. I think it's completely plausible for news to cover both sides, if that's what the listener/viewer wants.
"Is it better to know the leanings of your media source than have them hide it?"
Obviously it's better, but who's going to admit "Our media is liberal" or "Our news covers conservative goings-on in a positive manner"?
I ask:
Should a news organization's "leanings" be defined by that organization, or by outside organizations, like it is now?
What makes a media outlet "liberal" or "conservative" in the first place?
Using traditional definitions of the terms, "liberal" media would be covering a vastly wide array of topics with an equally-as-vast range of angles, sources, commentary and such. "Conservative" media would cover the basics using only strictly-factual information.
In this light, every news media I've seen is by nature "liberal."
Getting back to the issues at hand (also prompted by your comment), the yeomanification of media and information makes it ironically possible for
A) many more perspectives to be added to our daily choice
and, at the same time,
B) the prospect that people could become even more narrow-minded
My solution, like everything, lies in personal choice. And don't get me wrong, I've wrestled with the devil's-advocate query of "but how can uneducated people tell the difference? Aren't they being manipulated/taken advantage of? They don't really have a choice"
Perhaps, but in a sense that's not my problem. My problem is producing good news or being a good teacher and hope that my good/educational programming reaches out to a thirsty mind somewhere. Of course what I think is "good" or "educational" is, in essence, biased, and that's why you can either listen to it or not.
I've reached a point here in this comment where my original post began:
the "media" is such an interesting concept. It's just regular ol' people "informing" other regular ol' people about some thing or another.
The way this is happening is changing, and I think it's completely fascinating.
Might I also add here that all of this is why, in my mind, spelling, punctuation and grammar are so very important, even in personal web logs. Contrary to some's opinion, by attempting to correct these things I'm not trying to be annoying or nitpicky. Perhaps it has to do a little with my inherited eye for detail (not my fault).
But more importantly, it just keeps some sort of 'standard' running through the ba-gillions of data out here in bloggerland.
27.4.05
media
Not to be obvious, but I can definitely feel a big change happening in the media.
The way we get our 'information' has always been/is evolving, but right now I feel a major shift. I feel it deep in my bones.
And it's making me excited...
I can't wait to go back to San Francisco.*
Do you think it's changing? If so, how?
*I'm just really excited for this upcoming project, which happens to be in SF.
It's more the project than SF itself.
The way we get our 'information' has always been/is evolving, but right now I feel a major shift. I feel it deep in my bones.
And it's making me excited...
I can't wait to go back to San Francisco.*
Do you think it's changing? If so, how?
*I'm just really excited for this upcoming project, which happens to be in SF.
It's more the project than SF itself.
22.4.05
inquiry into existence
Thinking a lot lately about existence.
I'm familiar with 'cogito, ergo sum' and how, after most philosophical queries, one necessarily ends up at Descartes' famous conclusion.
(Real quick-my math teacher in high school would refer to Descartes as "Dis-cartees". He was being serious.)
Indeed, it is tough for us to imagine a world in which we don't exist.
And I'm not ready to tackle whether or not we would 'exist' if we didn't think we did.
That being said, I am more interested right now in answering the question:
does our existence matter? Or, for all intents and purposes, does what we do matter?
I've always had a deeper feeling about my actions.
Liken it to Karma or the Golden Rule, whatever, but I can never escape that feeling of 'pay it forward.' And not only between other humans and myself, but also myself vis-a-vis all living creatures and our planet. I've always just tried to do 'good.'
Similarly, I tend to find 'good' in every situation.
Not Panglossian optimism, mind you, but more an appreciation for what 'life' brings. Indeed, everytime I learn something new, I label that as 'good,' and inside me arises a 'positive' feeling. This can get rather 'ridiculous' as I've even felt appreciation for the lessons learned by 'bad' things such as The Holocaust.
But why?
In a recent discussion, a question arose:
Could we have just made it all up based on the instinctually survivalist notion of self-preservation? Our religions, our jobs, our rules, even seemingly sincere things like heroism (underlying basic premise that the human race must survive) and love (need to feel complete rather than alone)?
Rationally speaking, yes. I can see this argument holding weight. Nothing can really be 'good' or 'bad' because it just 'is.' Also, according to this view, there is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' ramifications of behavior. Karma doesn't exist and it doesn't matter if I drive a gas guzzler.
(I should point out that this possible reality isn't necessarily a 'bad' thing either.)
But how do I explain my feelings of 'good' mentioned above? If they don't really exist, how can I feel them? And, should I feel them and should I be doing things for the 'greater good'?
Or, rather, should I be living a life whose purpose may not actually be real?
(I'm sure there will be discussion of existentialism here, which is fine if it's not just based on nomenclature).
I'm careful not to enter a purely cynical camp of 'nothing matters.' At least not right now.
For starters, I can't change that I naturally feel these things. Indeed, I can say confidently that I'm a "hopeless romantic" of sorts and it wouldn't follow to simply shun my feelings.
Secondly, I'd rather explore further the origins and reasons for these feelings before I just conclude that they don't exist or matter.
Or, on the other hand, that they do exist or matter.
Of course, until then, I'll err on the side I've been living on.
Any thoughts?
21.4.05
um, me
been reading people's surveys here and there. here's mine:
about you
name: emilie grace cole
nicknames: emcole, emiliecole, em, eeems (southern family), emmie (emmy shank)
heritage: scottish, welsh, british
birthplace: richmond, va
live now: DC
hair: light blonde (summer), light brown/dark blonde (winter)
eyes: blue
height: 5.5 ft
weight: 130-5
race: Aryan. I'm totally kidding here. Since I don't believe in race, I'd say, um, HUMAN
disabilities: none that I'm aware of. but my left knee is like a 70-year-old's
vision: huh? contacts in the -4 range. I just got new glasses last week and they are def. stronger. I can't see the big 'E' on the chart without help.
hearing: excellent
likes/dislikes
Your favorite physical features: hands, legs, back
Could be better: feet. I blame it on the miles ran.
Favorite food(s):
sheesh. I like pretty much all foods, but I'd say...
-2 eggs over medium w/tad cheddar & toast
-mac-n-cheese
-salad
-anything thai coconut curry
-sushi (specifically, salmon nigiri, rainbow roll, spicy tuna roll)
-veggie burgers
-celery
Least favorite food(s):
-beets
Favorite drinks(s):
-WATER
-cold, light beer after a run
-mix juices
-ketel one cosmo
Least favorite drinks:
-beet juice
Favorite TV show: AbFab, Jeopardy. If only they had AbFab Jeopardy.
Favorite movie: willy wonka
Favorite book: don't have one yet
Favorite music: anything I can dance to. it may not be pretty at times, but I can dance to almost anything
Favorite sport to play: If I could, soccer. good thing I like running!
Favorite sport to watch: now it's baseball
Perfect day? any day can be perfect. some ethereal notions include sunny parks, Sunday NYtimes, frisbee, bbq's, drunken charades...summer's right around the co'na!
significant other
hair: don't care
eyes: don't care
height: not shorter than me. the last thing I need is some pipsqueak following me around
weight: don't care. as long as they can be active with me
personality: whatevs. as long as we 'fit'
style: don't care, but absolutely NO pleated pants (I can help if need be)
current relationship? nicole
fits above? for most part. nobody's perfect
you
Things you're good at: caring, helping, keeping in touch, making the world a good place (one way or another), most sports/running; understanding everyone's point of view; chugging Guinness (Imperial pints)
Things you could be better at: 'thinking before I speak'; resisting urge to be sarcastic with
more-simple coworkers; I could always be more chill
Things you'll succeed at:
motherhood; spouse-hood; teaching; marine corps marathon; being a friend
Things you'll fail at:
I don't quite 'believe' in failure, since I think everything's a learning experience
Comforts: i randomly find comfort. like this morning on the bridge over looking the plush green Rock Creek Park.
Fears: airplane turbulence/crash; other people's umbrella spokes
Proud of? myself, my friends, family, humanity
Regrets? not writing an honor's thesis; sometimes I put my self out on a limb and becoming vulnerable/how I ended up getting there. But again, see "failure" question.
Grateful for? how I was raised; you
Short-term goals:
have fun; read; save money/build investments; marine corps marathon; set up audioluxe; better posture; figure stuff out
Mid-term goals:
have fun; fluent in Spanish; conversational in French; literate in Latin; knowledge of Arabic; understand theory of relativity; start family; become more flexible (physically); learn to sail; own a fixer upper; figure stuff out
Long-term goals:
raise family; have cabin/cottage owned by friends and I; travel; teach; give back; HAVE FUN
my new glasses.
glasses were invented by humans just like the chair i'm sitting in, the polymer desk behind me, and those rolled up building plans, because we also decided we needed concrete structures in which to conduct our equally-as-made-up business.
come to think of it, we've totally made up a lot of shit!
about you
name: emilie grace cole
nicknames: emcole, emiliecole, em, eeems (southern family), emmie (emmy shank)
heritage: scottish, welsh, british
birthplace: richmond, va
live now: DC
hair: light blonde (summer), light brown/dark blonde (winter)
eyes: blue
height: 5.5 ft
weight: 130-5
race: Aryan. I'm totally kidding here. Since I don't believe in race, I'd say, um, HUMAN
disabilities: none that I'm aware of. but my left knee is like a 70-year-old's
vision: huh? contacts in the -4 range. I just got new glasses last week and they are def. stronger. I can't see the big 'E' on the chart without help.
hearing: excellent
likes/dislikes
Your favorite physical features: hands, legs, back
Could be better: feet. I blame it on the miles ran.
Favorite food(s):
sheesh. I like pretty much all foods, but I'd say...
-2 eggs over medium w/tad cheddar & toast
-mac-n-cheese
-salad
-anything thai coconut curry
-sushi (specifically, salmon nigiri, rainbow roll, spicy tuna roll)
-veggie burgers
-celery
Least favorite food(s):
-beets
Favorite drinks(s):
-WATER
-cold, light beer after a run
-mix juices
-ketel one cosmo
Least favorite drinks:
-beet juice
Favorite TV show: AbFab, Jeopardy. If only they had AbFab Jeopardy.
Favorite movie: willy wonka
Favorite book: don't have one yet
Favorite music: anything I can dance to. it may not be pretty at times, but I can dance to almost anything
Favorite sport to play: If I could, soccer. good thing I like running!
Favorite sport to watch: now it's baseball
Perfect day? any day can be perfect. some ethereal notions include sunny parks, Sunday NYtimes, frisbee, bbq's, drunken charades...summer's right around the co'na!
significant other
hair: don't care
eyes: don't care
height: not shorter than me. the last thing I need is some pipsqueak following me around
weight: don't care. as long as they can be active with me
personality: whatevs. as long as we 'fit'
style: don't care, but absolutely NO pleated pants (I can help if need be)
current relationship? nicole
fits above? for most part. nobody's perfect
you
Things you're good at: caring, helping, keeping in touch, making the world a good place (one way or another), most sports/running; understanding everyone's point of view; chugging Guinness (Imperial pints)
Things you could be better at: 'thinking before I speak'; resisting urge to be sarcastic with
more-simple coworkers; I could always be more chill
Things you'll succeed at:
motherhood; spouse-hood; teaching; marine corps marathon; being a friend
Things you'll fail at:
I don't quite 'believe' in failure, since I think everything's a learning experience
Comforts: i randomly find comfort. like this morning on the bridge over looking the plush green Rock Creek Park.
Fears: airplane turbulence/crash; other people's umbrella spokes
Proud of? myself, my friends, family, humanity
Regrets? not writing an honor's thesis; sometimes I put my self out on a limb and becoming vulnerable/how I ended up getting there. But again, see "failure" question.
Grateful for? how I was raised; you
Short-term goals:
have fun; read; save money/build investments; marine corps marathon; set up audioluxe; better posture; figure stuff out
Mid-term goals:
have fun; fluent in Spanish; conversational in French; literate in Latin; knowledge of Arabic; understand theory of relativity; start family; become more flexible (physically); learn to sail; own a fixer upper; figure stuff out
Long-term goals:
raise family; have cabin/cottage owned by friends and I; travel; teach; give back; HAVE FUN
my new glasses.
glasses were invented by humans just like the chair i'm sitting in, the polymer desk behind me, and those rolled up building plans, because we also decided we needed concrete structures in which to conduct our equally-as-made-up business.
come to think of it, we've totally made up a lot of shit!
20.4.05
either or
sometimes in life i'm faced with the following choice:
go running or eat macaroni and cheese*
well, folks, tonight it's the big m-c for me
*annie's organic shells and cheddar
**i never blog about eating salad. maybe i'll start doing that more.
go running or eat macaroni and cheese*
well, folks, tonight it's the big m-c for me
*annie's organic shells and cheddar
**i never blog about eating salad. maybe i'll start doing that more.
the big 2-1
happy 21st birthday to my younger brother (and one of the coolest guys i know), james bernard cole!
cheers & love!!!
cheers & love!!!
19.4.05
free
s p r i n g t i m e = winter's weight off my shoulders
= lightness
= freedom
= a smile
maybe it wasn't winter
there was a weight, though
and it's gone
'free
like a bird out in the wind in the night
like a 747 to LA that's in flight
free
like a garden flourishing in the wind
like a student bout to do it when he's graduatin'...'
first in flight, blackalicious
= lightness
= freedom
= a smile
maybe it wasn't winter
there was a weight, though
and it's gone
'free
like a bird out in the wind in the night
like a 747 to LA that's in flight
free
like a garden flourishing in the wind
like a student bout to do it when he's graduatin'...'
first in flight, blackalicious
18.4.05
weekend/happy/pointless post/etc
I'm not kidding when I say that DC keeps getting better!
Absolutely gorgeous weekend numero dos
.... spent almost all weekend outside in the wonderful sunshine.
Friday got my iPod (40GB, color) and enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the local Italian bistro.
Saturday biked to Georgetown & browsed the shop(pe)s then watched the Nats game at Brad's. Sometimes there's nothing better than just going over to Brad's.
Yesterday biked along the river (Potomac) with Nicole all the way down to Old Town Alexandria--a quaint historic downtown area--about a 10 mile ride. On the way we stopped near Reagan National Airport where you can lay in a field as the incoming jumbo jets are about to land--they fly over at literally 30 feet!
Once there we enjoyed a hearty brunch and let me tell you that eggs chesapeake (like benedicte but w/crab meat) is my new favorite breakfast item.
After walking around for a few hours, it was nap time by the river. With the sound of boats and gulls, and the colonial streets nearby, I felt like I was back at Cape Cod.
Went for an early evening run then finished off the day with the handsome boy modeling school show (which actually was just 'ok' because the venue kind of screwed up the audio).
All in all, an excellent end to a great week.
Or the start of a new one.
this cup is more than half full
Absolutely gorgeous weekend numero dos
.... spent almost all weekend outside in the wonderful sunshine.
Friday got my iPod (40GB, color) and enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the local Italian bistro.
Saturday biked to Georgetown & browsed the shop(pe)s then watched the Nats game at Brad's. Sometimes there's nothing better than just going over to Brad's.
Yesterday biked along the river (Potomac) with Nicole all the way down to Old Town Alexandria--a quaint historic downtown area--about a 10 mile ride. On the way we stopped near Reagan National Airport where you can lay in a field as the incoming jumbo jets are about to land--they fly over at literally 30 feet!
Once there we enjoyed a hearty brunch and let me tell you that eggs chesapeake (like benedicte but w/crab meat) is my new favorite breakfast item.
After walking around for a few hours, it was nap time by the river. With the sound of boats and gulls, and the colonial streets nearby, I felt like I was back at Cape Cod.
Went for an early evening run then finished off the day with the handsome boy modeling school show (which actually was just 'ok' because the venue kind of screwed up the audio).
All in all, an excellent end to a great week.
Or the start of a new one.
this cup is more than half full
15.4.05
baseball and me
I usually don't like being a number.
Even in crowds, my natural tendency is to find some sort of individuality (sometimes, unfortunately, this has to do with a few too many drinks and a conviction that I am "funny").
But last night I was proud to be just one of thousands.
A sober one, and of 45,596, to be exact.
A short while ago, you might've likened my knowledge/care of baseball to, oh, say (can you see?) the US Tax Code's 2004 Amendments and Adjustments.
Indeed, a large portion of my apathy stemmed from my own perceived inability to understand the material at hand. It just felt like too much and, to be honest, there was really no incentive for me to give a crap. I also felt like a poser moving every year and half and trying to be a fan of whatever local team there was.
Then, however, enter: the Nats.
The only way my interest was piqued in the first place was (nerd alert) the debate surrounding their arrival and the DC municipal money involved therein. For months I followed the 'battle' of baseball v. public infrastructure (schools, hospitals, THE LIKE).
If you know me at all (or at least read the preceding paragraph), it wouldn't be hard to figure out which side I was rooting for.
But slowly something inside of me changed. I was getting excited and I couldn't figure out why! I started caring less and less about the sick, the poor and DC's children, and more and more about stuff like Livan Hernandez, statistics and this new, non-female definition of the word 'cycle.'
I even tried to go to espn.com a few times.
Now, the day after I experienced baseball's neatly-starched history 'unfold' at a sold-out RFK stadium (and, ironically, on tax day), I can say that I'm a true Nationals fan.
Even more so, I'm a baseball fan.
And it wasn't the F-16s and the fireworks.
It wasn't Renee Fleming.
It certainly wasn't President Bush.
No, I've seen my share of patriotic fanfare; all that mess wasn't the razzle-dazzle for me last night.
For me it was a pure and fresh feeling of experiencing something I hadn't before,
including that $4 hotdog (real meat, not tofu).
Simply satisfying.
Even in crowds, my natural tendency is to find some sort of individuality (sometimes, unfortunately, this has to do with a few too many drinks and a conviction that I am "funny").
But last night I was proud to be just one of thousands.
A sober one, and of 45,596, to be exact.
A short while ago, you might've likened my knowledge/care of baseball to, oh, say (can you see?) the US Tax Code's 2004 Amendments and Adjustments.
Indeed, a large portion of my apathy stemmed from my own perceived inability to understand the material at hand. It just felt like too much and, to be honest, there was really no incentive for me to give a crap. I also felt like a poser moving every year and half and trying to be a fan of whatever local team there was.
Then, however, enter: the Nats.
The only way my interest was piqued in the first place was (nerd alert) the debate surrounding their arrival and the DC municipal money involved therein. For months I followed the 'battle' of baseball v. public infrastructure (schools, hospitals, THE LIKE).
If you know me at all (or at least read the preceding paragraph), it wouldn't be hard to figure out which side I was rooting for.
But slowly something inside of me changed. I was getting excited and I couldn't figure out why! I started caring less and less about the sick, the poor and DC's children, and more and more about stuff like Livan Hernandez, statistics and this new, non-female definition of the word 'cycle.'
I even tried to go to espn.com a few times.
Now, the day after I experienced baseball's neatly-starched history 'unfold' at a sold-out RFK stadium (and, ironically, on tax day), I can say that I'm a true Nationals fan.
Even more so, I'm a baseball fan.
And it wasn't the F-16s and the fireworks.
It wasn't Renee Fleming.
It certainly wasn't President Bush.
No, I've seen my share of patriotic fanfare; all that mess wasn't the razzle-dazzle for me last night.
For me it was a pure and fresh feeling of experiencing something I hadn't before,
including that $4 hotdog (real meat, not tofu).
Simply satisfying.
13.4.05
fables
The origin of this post was the fact that last night I had the pleasure of seeing Aesop Rock. Strike that. 'Seeing' should be replaced with experiencing.
Watching the words pour out of him like a waterfall of dreams, hopes and sorrows was second only to when I saw Gift of Gab do the same, only faster and with a bit more playful logic and wit (the latter tickling my fancy just a wee bit more). Also, that Blackalicious show was only $3 (thanks, SU!) whereas Aes & Co came up in the twomp range. But both made me dance and made me happy.
When I experience performances like these--or any performance, really--I just can't help feeling so good about life. I mean, these people have this incredible talent and I'm so grateful I get to see it. Is this really cheesy? (don't answer that)
Even really 'bad' performances. I mean, not if they cost me a ton, because then I'd be a little miffed. But for the most part, even watching a sucky performance gives me this same appreciation for everything.
It's still just a wonder to me that people create, and on top of that, create good stuff.
We even created fables.
A double thanks to Aesop.
Watching the words pour out of him like a waterfall of dreams, hopes and sorrows was second only to when I saw Gift of Gab do the same, only faster and with a bit more playful logic and wit (the latter tickling my fancy just a wee bit more). Also, that Blackalicious show was only $3 (thanks, SU!) whereas Aes & Co came up in the twomp range. But both made me dance and made me happy.
When I experience performances like these--or any performance, really--I just can't help feeling so good about life. I mean, these people have this incredible talent and I'm so grateful I get to see it. Is this really cheesy? (don't answer that)
Even really 'bad' performances. I mean, not if they cost me a ton, because then I'd be a little miffed. But for the most part, even watching a sucky performance gives me this same appreciation for everything.
It's still just a wonder to me that people create, and on top of that, create good stuff.
We even created fables.
A double thanks to Aesop.
12.4.05
fugitive
"now it’s coming to you
the lessons i’ve learned
won’t do you any good
cause you’ve got to get burned
the curse and the blessing
they’re one in the same
baby it’s all
such a treacherous gain"
the lessons i’ve learned
won’t do you any good
cause you’ve got to get burned
the curse and the blessing
they’re one in the same
baby it’s all
such a treacherous gain"
9.4.05
tasty
one of the tastiest meals is two eggs over medium with melted sharp cheddar on hearty toast.
and cold orange juice.
it's a great day!
and cold orange juice.
it's a great day!
8.4.05
power outtage
This is actually what I had planned to write about before my upcoming-events excitement took hold of my blog.
Public transportation.
It's a great thing if you're physically fit enough to handle it.
My commute today was going as usual...walk to Metro, rush to oncoming train at expense of woman-in-front-of-me's heels, getting thrown around inside train car due to driver's inability to... drive. Et cetera.
When I got to my destination, even the dark and cavernous station seemed normal. Until I realized it was a little too dark.
Being an adaptable gal who eats her carrots, I peered around for the ticket turnstile, and once I found it I slid my SmarTrip Card across the reader (that was easy!) and proceeded to....well, the escalator,
but what looked more like what the army likes to call a "cluster fuck."
With about 200 people being offloaded every 2 minutes, it's already enough that we only have two moving escalators in the direction of commute. And if for some reason--say, typical mechanical failure--we're all relegated to only one moving escalator, it's like the LA-Ventura Freeway at the 1-405 interchange. But replace those metal boxes and empty-threat horn blows with real people and real evil eyes.
That being said, I'm sure you can imagine what it was like this morning to see not only all escalators at a stand still, but only one of them available for the up direction. Essentially what we had was one hell of a staircase on our hands.
Enter: mass confusion and wheezing.
What I saw was absolutely hilarious and disgusting at the same time.
For me, the 200-step climb was a breeze. Even on fully-functioning days I don't just "ride" the escalator, I "walk" it, and today people like myself were finally recognized for their daily efforts: we made it out of Bethesda station with nary an aberrant breath, nor droplet of sweat on brow or bosom.
I wish I could say the same for my fellow commuters.
People were stopping, coughing, bitching, panting, gasping, gulping, squawking, heaving, and choking--mostly for air--and I seriously thought some of them were going to faint. There were a lot of innocent "phew"s and a lot more of their expletive counterparts. And there was no feeling of pulling through this uphill battle together. It was every commuter for himself.
Just to make myself feel good, I walked back down to the bottom and made a second ascension. I actually think I lapped some folks.
Beyond my own personal amusement and eduction, what I saw was very disturbing in a broader sense.
Thankfully this occured on a regular day, but what if it we had to get to the top because of an emergency? Many out-of-shape bodies would be laid to waste...either from the disaster at hand or the no-rest-stop climb itself.
I think today's Metro mishap exposed more than just a pudgy midriff:
some people definitely have to reevaluate their lifestyles.
If not for their own well-being, then for that of our homeland security.
Public transportation.
It's a great thing if you're physically fit enough to handle it.
My commute today was going as usual...walk to Metro, rush to oncoming train at expense of woman-in-front-of-me's heels, getting thrown around inside train car due to driver's inability to... drive. Et cetera.
When I got to my destination, even the dark and cavernous station seemed normal. Until I realized it was a little too dark.
Being an adaptable gal who eats her carrots, I peered around for the ticket turnstile, and once I found it I slid my SmarTrip Card across the reader (that was easy!) and proceeded to....well, the escalator,
but what looked more like what the army likes to call a "cluster fuck."
With about 200 people being offloaded every 2 minutes, it's already enough that we only have two moving escalators in the direction of commute. And if for some reason--say, typical mechanical failure--we're all relegated to only one moving escalator, it's like the LA-Ventura Freeway at the 1-405 interchange. But replace those metal boxes and empty-threat horn blows with real people and real evil eyes.
That being said, I'm sure you can imagine what it was like this morning to see not only all escalators at a stand still, but only one of them available for the up direction. Essentially what we had was one hell of a staircase on our hands.
Enter: mass confusion and wheezing.
What I saw was absolutely hilarious and disgusting at the same time.
For me, the 200-step climb was a breeze. Even on fully-functioning days I don't just "ride" the escalator, I "walk" it, and today people like myself were finally recognized for their daily efforts: we made it out of Bethesda station with nary an aberrant breath, nor droplet of sweat on brow or bosom.
I wish I could say the same for my fellow commuters.
People were stopping, coughing, bitching, panting, gasping, gulping, squawking, heaving, and choking--mostly for air--and I seriously thought some of them were going to faint. There were a lot of innocent "phew"s and a lot more of their expletive counterparts. And there was no feeling of pulling through this uphill battle together. It was every commuter for himself.
Just to make myself feel good, I walked back down to the bottom and made a second ascension. I actually think I lapped some folks.
Beyond my own personal amusement and eduction, what I saw was very disturbing in a broader sense.
Thankfully this occured on a regular day, but what if it we had to get to the top because of an emergency? Many out-of-shape bodies would be laid to waste...either from the disaster at hand or the no-rest-stop climb itself.
I think today's Metro mishap exposed more than just a pudgy midriff:
some people definitely have to reevaluate their lifestyles.
If not for their own well-being, then for that of our homeland security.
event horizon
I'm unusually ecstatic at the current moment because I just acquired Nats opening day tickets for a very reasonable price--$40 each!
(The only drawback is that Dubya might mistake all of our hats for another "mandate." Look for the Ten Commandments in your grocer's freezer).
This tops off my recent spree of ticket-getting. Other upcoming events I will be attending:
-aesop rock
-handsome boy modeling school
-the decemberists
-a lecture by emily saliers (50% of the indigo girls) and her dad (a minister) on music in religion and religion in pop culture
-alison krauss & union station
DC is turning out to be not all that lame!
(The only drawback is that Dubya might mistake all of our hats for another "mandate." Look for the Ten Commandments in your grocer's freezer).
This tops off my recent spree of ticket-getting. Other upcoming events I will be attending:
-aesop rock
-handsome boy modeling school
-the decemberists
-a lecture by emily saliers (50% of the indigo girls) and her dad (a minister) on music in religion and religion in pop culture
-alison krauss & union station
DC is turning out to be not all that lame!
6.4.05
teachers
Sometimes a day comes along in which I don't really want to blog, or rather, I don't really have anything specific I need/want to blog about, but there are continuous peripheral thoughts relating to a certain subject matter vis-a-vis myself, and I feel compelled to address them.
Today's lesson is about teachers.
While I find the teaching profession one of the most noble (and potentially one of the most rewarding, though I can't say it is the most rewarding because I haven't been a teacher...yet. And, ya know...this gig ain't too shabby), I am made painstakingly aware as each day passes that it is most certainly a profession which I have little desire to enter into at this time.
This temporary conclusion comes after many conversations with and observations of my girlfriend and friends' (non) lives. For starters, Nicole comes home everyday looking like she just ran a marathon on beans and a nap. Secondly, she rarely has the energy to do much (sad face) and her weekends are spent planning next week's lesson. This might have a lot to do with the fact that she was hired as a 9th-grade bio teacher in a mostly-Spanish-speaking HS and she neither studied biology nor teaching beforehand.
But still, no thanks.
My friend Molly works at a special high school tucked away in the Rocky Mountains, which I'm sure is heaven and a dream come true. But seeing as how her work week averages 80 hours, she might as well be a prisoner at Alcatraz.
She can see, hear, and smell the Barbary Coast, but she can't go out and play.
Friends Randy and, newly, Dan might have it better off not working in a crappy urban district nor with kids like Molly's (although their district/school is still really bad) but, nope. It seems that their lives, too, are consumed by their work; from the 'miracle moments' to the disappointments, to the people they date and befriend, being a teacher has become their raison d'être.
I should point out again, for fear of backlash from said individuals, that A) they are good strong people who are living life optimistically, doing their best, etc; B) I am proud of these individuals and want to thank them for their service; and C) I, at some point, also want to join this special clique, and not just for clique-membership's sake.
In addition, I hold special reverence for my own teachers. I remember quite vividly those who played a large part in my education and development, especially my second grade teacher, Mrs. Flohr. She believed in me down to her core and provided me with the tools I have used throughout my life (I even plan on relegating part of one of my children's name to "Flohr").
I truly believe in the power of the classroom and I am fully aware of my destiny to be an educator of some sort. In fact, I almost was committed to two years working with special education students in Anacostia! But at this time I feel damn happy having a balanced, outside life.
No, no no. A real balanced, outside life.
Today's lesson is about teachers.
While I find the teaching profession one of the most noble (and potentially one of the most rewarding, though I can't say it is the most rewarding because I haven't been a teacher...yet. And, ya know...this gig ain't too shabby), I am made painstakingly aware as each day passes that it is most certainly a profession which I have little desire to enter into at this time.
This temporary conclusion comes after many conversations with and observations of my girlfriend and friends' (non) lives. For starters, Nicole comes home everyday looking like she just ran a marathon on beans and a nap. Secondly, she rarely has the energy to do much (sad face) and her weekends are spent planning next week's lesson. This might have a lot to do with the fact that she was hired as a 9th-grade bio teacher in a mostly-Spanish-speaking HS and she neither studied biology nor teaching beforehand.
But still, no thanks.
My friend Molly works at a special high school tucked away in the Rocky Mountains, which I'm sure is heaven and a dream come true. But seeing as how her work week averages 80 hours, she might as well be a prisoner at Alcatraz.
She can see, hear, and smell the Barbary Coast, but she can't go out and play.
Friends Randy and, newly, Dan might have it better off not working in a crappy urban district nor with kids like Molly's (although their district/school is still really bad) but, nope. It seems that their lives, too, are consumed by their work; from the 'miracle moments' to the disappointments, to the people they date and befriend, being a teacher has become their raison d'être.
I should point out again, for fear of backlash from said individuals, that A) they are good strong people who are living life optimistically, doing their best, etc; B) I am proud of these individuals and want to thank them for their service; and C) I, at some point, also want to join this special clique, and not just for clique-membership's sake.
In addition, I hold special reverence for my own teachers. I remember quite vividly those who played a large part in my education and development, especially my second grade teacher, Mrs. Flohr. She believed in me down to her core and provided me with the tools I have used throughout my life (I even plan on relegating part of one of my children's name to "Flohr").
I truly believe in the power of the classroom and I am fully aware of my destiny to be an educator of some sort. In fact, I almost was committed to two years working with special education students in Anacostia! But at this time I feel damn happy having a balanced, outside life.
No, no no. A real balanced, outside life.
5.4.05
spring
this is one of those days where i don't really know what my next step is. you know, just confusion.
i find my friend's most recent post surprisingly relevant, as well as yesterday's poem even more so.
sometimes life is like pagoda from the royal tenenbaums--
it gives you a stab in the side, but hey, 'it is what it is.'
i find my friend's most recent post surprisingly relevant, as well as yesterday's poem even more so.
sometimes life is like pagoda from the royal tenenbaums--
it gives you a stab in the side, but hey, 'it is what it is.'
4.4.05
thought
so much death yet so much life
old parts dying
new parts thriving
i feel my breath and take my time
old parts dying
new parts thriving
old parts dying
new parts thriving
i feel my breath and take my time
old parts dying
new parts thriving
1.4.05
"theresa marie schiavo"
From today's NYTimes Op-Ed page, pasted here a) because of NYTimes' log-in restrictions and b) because I couldn't say it better myself.
i may have mentioned before that this has had an effect on me more than any other 'news story' i can remember. the thing is, i can't believe this is a 'news story' at all.
but it was, is and will continue to be and, as such, i think these are relevant words for a life that has crossed the finish line.
"One of the most astonishing things about the human experience is the realization that loved ones die. The first time it happens, we are invariably amazed that nearly everyone who has ever lived has weathered an experience so wrenching. We see other humans on the street and in the shops and marvel that they manage to simply go about their business - that there is no constant, universal primal scream in the face of such an awful fact.
That level of grief seldom brings out the noblest emotions. The sufferers can barely make their way through the day, let alone summon their best reserves of patience and compassion for the lucky people who continue to live. In the case of Terri Schiavo, the whole world witnessed what happens when that natural emotional frailty is taken captive by politics.
It was awful, and according to the polls, the American public shrank from the sight of it.
What little we know about Terri Schiavo - the person, as opposed to the videotape - tells us that she would have been appalled by the last weeks of her life. What worse nightmare could a rather shy and affectionate young woman conjure up than 15 years of lingering unconsciousness, in which the entire globe became intimately familiar with the sight of her wasted limbs while the people she loved most engaged in a vicious court fight for control of her body?
That kind of ordeal - even if the victim was unaware she was enduring it - deserves to be honored with some meaning. On the most pragmatic level, she has been the instrument of thousands, and probably millions, of intimate conversations in which family members told one another what they would like to happen if their own bodies outlived their minds. In countless other cases, people recalled the days on which they had said goodbye to loved ones, and perhaps many came closer to peace in dealing with their own great losses.
Americans are a deeply pragmatic people, who constantly surprise ideologues of every persuasion with their willingness to accept whatever solution seems to work best at the moment. Our great ideals, when they are boiled down at a moment of crisis, often turn out to be mainly instincts - for fairness, for the right of individual self-determination or sometimes just for the pursuit of happiness. Watching the Schiavo case unfold, most Americans quickly opted for the solution that would end the ordeal.
Some people hold religious convictions so heartfelt that they could not bow to public opinion or the courts and accept the conclusion that Ms. Schiavo should be allowed to die. They deserve respect, just as her husband and her other relatives deserve sympathy.
Those relatives also deserve to be left alone, to be protected from a spotlight that turned a family tragedy into an international spectacle of sometimes shocking vulgarity and viciousness. The case attracted outsiders in search of little more than another opportunity to further their own self-aggrandizement. But worst of all were the powerful people who looked at the world we live in today, in which politics is about maximizing hysteria at the margins, and concluded that the Schiavo fight was a win-win - for everyone but the people who actually cared about the dying woman.
Today, finally, there is a moment of consensus. Rest in peace, Theresa Marie."
i may have mentioned before that this has had an effect on me more than any other 'news story' i can remember. the thing is, i can't believe this is a 'news story' at all.
but it was, is and will continue to be and, as such, i think these are relevant words for a life that has crossed the finish line.
"One of the most astonishing things about the human experience is the realization that loved ones die. The first time it happens, we are invariably amazed that nearly everyone who has ever lived has weathered an experience so wrenching. We see other humans on the street and in the shops and marvel that they manage to simply go about their business - that there is no constant, universal primal scream in the face of such an awful fact.
That level of grief seldom brings out the noblest emotions. The sufferers can barely make their way through the day, let alone summon their best reserves of patience and compassion for the lucky people who continue to live. In the case of Terri Schiavo, the whole world witnessed what happens when that natural emotional frailty is taken captive by politics.
It was awful, and according to the polls, the American public shrank from the sight of it.
What little we know about Terri Schiavo - the person, as opposed to the videotape - tells us that she would have been appalled by the last weeks of her life. What worse nightmare could a rather shy and affectionate young woman conjure up than 15 years of lingering unconsciousness, in which the entire globe became intimately familiar with the sight of her wasted limbs while the people she loved most engaged in a vicious court fight for control of her body?
That kind of ordeal - even if the victim was unaware she was enduring it - deserves to be honored with some meaning. On the most pragmatic level, she has been the instrument of thousands, and probably millions, of intimate conversations in which family members told one another what they would like to happen if their own bodies outlived their minds. In countless other cases, people recalled the days on which they had said goodbye to loved ones, and perhaps many came closer to peace in dealing with their own great losses.
Americans are a deeply pragmatic people, who constantly surprise ideologues of every persuasion with their willingness to accept whatever solution seems to work best at the moment. Our great ideals, when they are boiled down at a moment of crisis, often turn out to be mainly instincts - for fairness, for the right of individual self-determination or sometimes just for the pursuit of happiness. Watching the Schiavo case unfold, most Americans quickly opted for the solution that would end the ordeal.
Some people hold religious convictions so heartfelt that they could not bow to public opinion or the courts and accept the conclusion that Ms. Schiavo should be allowed to die. They deserve respect, just as her husband and her other relatives deserve sympathy.
Those relatives also deserve to be left alone, to be protected from a spotlight that turned a family tragedy into an international spectacle of sometimes shocking vulgarity and viciousness. The case attracted outsiders in search of little more than another opportunity to further their own self-aggrandizement. But worst of all were the powerful people who looked at the world we live in today, in which politics is about maximizing hysteria at the margins, and concluded that the Schiavo fight was a win-win - for everyone but the people who actually cared about the dying woman.
Today, finally, there is a moment of consensus. Rest in peace, Theresa Marie."
31.3.05
a series of fortunate events
so today my bosses, james and steve, called me into their office and told me i was doing a good job (thank god). they gave me a raise.
then they each asked me to get them a beer from their well-stocked mini fridge. providing my bosses with alcohol is a normal part of my job, by the way. once i made them martinis, to which they complemented heavily.
so i got them their beers and steve whips out five 100-dollar bills and hands it to me. i almost dropped the beer in his lap. he jokingly told me it was my "tip." i thought he was kidding, but nope. he really had just given me $500.
so i bounce back down the stairs to my receptionist's perch with a new outlook on life and employment. i mean, i just couldn't stop laughing. the accountant judy, or "joods" as we refer to her, was also given some sort of bonus and we just couldn't stop smiling about our wonderful fortune.
then i hear my bosses buzz me on our intercom, asking me to come back up and get them another beer. of course i will get thee another beer...you just gave me $2500!
as i'm twisting off the caps, james proceeds to pull out another $500 and gives it to me. i thought they were kidding, but nope. he really had just given me another $500.
there is no april fool's here, this really happened. of course, my bosses just settled a deal and each made $1.5 million, but they didn't have to share any of that with us. but they did.
and i'm feelin' good right now, feelin' good.
and that's the way it is today.
then they each asked me to get them a beer from their well-stocked mini fridge. providing my bosses with alcohol is a normal part of my job, by the way. once i made them martinis, to which they complemented heavily.
so i got them their beers and steve whips out five 100-dollar bills and hands it to me. i almost dropped the beer in his lap. he jokingly told me it was my "tip." i thought he was kidding, but nope. he really had just given me $500.
so i bounce back down the stairs to my receptionist's perch with a new outlook on life and employment. i mean, i just couldn't stop laughing. the accountant judy, or "joods" as we refer to her, was also given some sort of bonus and we just couldn't stop smiling about our wonderful fortune.
then i hear my bosses buzz me on our intercom, asking me to come back up and get them another beer. of course i will get thee another beer...you just gave me $2500!
as i'm twisting off the caps, james proceeds to pull out another $500 and gives it to me. i thought they were kidding, but nope. he really had just given me another $500.
there is no april fool's here, this really happened. of course, my bosses just settled a deal and each made $1.5 million, but they didn't have to share any of that with us. but they did.
and i'm feelin' good right now, feelin' good.
and that's the way it is today.
24.3.05
a day in the life of, no.1
It's a hot morning here--dry and dusty with hints of lime-cilantro. A cactus mews in the distance, because they don't have cats. Those, along with the Shermans' new baby girl, were all eaten by the coyotes.
OCYSLG is in his bedroom, which smells both musty and fresh, getting ready for Work. He's listening to a hip new band very few people know about. He loves music, but the only thing he doesn't do is Mariachi.
He only ties a single Windsor, however, which can be interpreted as either lazy or an attempt at maintaining his iconoclastic image. OTG might also be there, but I don't know if they see each other on worknights. It doesn't matter, though. It's cool.
After the whole single-knot thing, OCYSLG "does his hair." Or whatever's left of it these days. He's young but he's got a rapidly receding hairline which he hides most of the time underneath an authentically-worn (not the kind you buy pre-worn at Abercrombie) cowboy hat.
He gathers the day's paperwork and stuffs it in his old backpack, grabs a bowl of organic granola with elderberries and soy milk...I mean, a leftover piece of meatzza...on his way out the door. He may or may not kiss OTG goodbye.
OCYSLG's friend, OTD, is doing the same thing, but his hair requires more attention because there's more of it. This trait gives OTD a one-up over OCYSLG when the two argue over hypothetical combat scenarios.
OTD is currently in a sad stage of life because he has recently parted ways with someone special, the cause of which is at the moment unknown but probably his own fault. The worst is when people complain about life situations which they caused, and OTD's doing a lot of that these days.
Irregardless being a word now, he grabs some fast food on his way in to Work. Inevitably, he'll one day be bitching about having adult-onset diabetes or no more money, and end his own life due to whichever comes first. For now, though, he's nobly trying to live life to the fullest extent and, well, there's no room for criticizing Carpe Diem in this story.
Both OCYSLG and OTD arrive at Work. They dismount their horsies and chain them to the iron bars outside. They chat about Work and how they love it and hate it at the same time. They can do this because they're in the special Workers clique.
The clique's formation is not unreasonable like most cliques', though, since being a Worker is one of the toughest jobs out there. On a daily basis they are responsible for many things which impact the future of our society and its individuals. As such, everyday at Work is both an uphill and downhill battle, the latter of which being the key to Chamberlain's success at Gettysburg.
In addition to keeping the peace and fighting various battles, they are also forced to work within the screwed-up Structure of Worktion which runs much like the Great Glass Elevator:
it has the ability to take you anywhere you want to go, but most of the time just dumps you vis-a-vis a gang of Vermicious Knids.
OCYSLG and OTD say goodbye for now and head off to their own Workrooms, where they get busy Working and impacting the future of back-of-the-house restaurant workers and maybe even the next mayor of San Francisco.
Their day can be likened to a bag of Seneca Apple Chips. The idea of the apple is there. Indeed, that's the basis of the chip itself. But there's something extra delicious about the crispy, buttery and tart taste that keeps you reaching your hand in the only-half-filled bag (contents settle due to shipping).
You continue to munch on this satisfying snack until it's all gone, at which point you kind of wish you had just eaten a real apple like in the days of yore! But it's so hard to eat real apples these days due to the exorbitant regulations surrounding them per the Pomum Protocol imposed by the Structure of Worktion. Plus, fruit--who needs it?
After Work, OCYSLG and OTD agree to hit up the local cantina for some drinks and meaty meat meat. They mount their horsies, amidst much heckling from all the normal people driving cars, and trot on down to I Wish It Wasn't Monday's for some manly conversation and strawberry daiquiries.
"A sloth could not change a baby's diaper faster than a cheetah," rebuts OTD to OCYSLG's claim that, yes, it could.
After one too many Mike'ses, they agree on one animal that is good at changing diapers:
a woman.
They decide to end their evening on this congenial note and part ways.
For a brief moment they are sad to leave one another. They are best friends in a town of their worst enemies: boredom, anxiety, isolationism, and the lack of a decent record store. Parting is difficult, but they manage it every time.
On the ride home, OTD gets pulled over and ticketed for drunk horseback riding, although the actual ticket reads "just get a car cowboy." In addition to this harassment, the ticket comes with a paycheck's worth of a fine.
OCYSLG swings by and picks up OTG. They talk about other stuff not related to sloths and cheetahs...most of it's OCYSLG's daily musings which prepares OTG for sleeping. He kisses her goodnight, drifts off and then dreams of HOSO. The moon shines bright through the slats.
It was a typical day here and our mysteriously-named friends have made the best of it.
They are their own sheriffs in a border town where no one really does the whole Wild West Thing anymore. In fact, no one really does a whole lot of anything anymore. Either that or they're doing things they don't like, they don't need, or that they despise.
But our friends are spending their lives the way they want to.
Even if they don't have a penny to show for it.
OCYSLG is in his bedroom, which smells both musty and fresh, getting ready for Work. He's listening to a hip new band very few people know about. He loves music, but the only thing he doesn't do is Mariachi.
He only ties a single Windsor, however, which can be interpreted as either lazy or an attempt at maintaining his iconoclastic image. OTG might also be there, but I don't know if they see each other on worknights. It doesn't matter, though. It's cool.
After the whole single-knot thing, OCYSLG "does his hair." Or whatever's left of it these days. He's young but he's got a rapidly receding hairline which he hides most of the time underneath an authentically-worn (not the kind you buy pre-worn at Abercrombie) cowboy hat.
He gathers the day's paperwork and stuffs it in his old backpack, grabs a bowl of organic granola with elderberries and soy milk...I mean, a leftover piece of meatzza...on his way out the door. He may or may not kiss OTG goodbye.
OCYSLG's friend, OTD, is doing the same thing, but his hair requires more attention because there's more of it. This trait gives OTD a one-up over OCYSLG when the two argue over hypothetical combat scenarios.
OTD is currently in a sad stage of life because he has recently parted ways with someone special, the cause of which is at the moment unknown but probably his own fault. The worst is when people complain about life situations which they caused, and OTD's doing a lot of that these days.
Irregardless being a word now, he grabs some fast food on his way in to Work. Inevitably, he'll one day be bitching about having adult-onset diabetes or no more money, and end his own life due to whichever comes first. For now, though, he's nobly trying to live life to the fullest extent and, well, there's no room for criticizing Carpe Diem in this story.
Both OCYSLG and OTD arrive at Work. They dismount their horsies and chain them to the iron bars outside. They chat about Work and how they love it and hate it at the same time. They can do this because they're in the special Workers clique.
The clique's formation is not unreasonable like most cliques', though, since being a Worker is one of the toughest jobs out there. On a daily basis they are responsible for many things which impact the future of our society and its individuals. As such, everyday at Work is both an uphill and downhill battle, the latter of which being the key to Chamberlain's success at Gettysburg.
In addition to keeping the peace and fighting various battles, they are also forced to work within the screwed-up Structure of Worktion which runs much like the Great Glass Elevator:
it has the ability to take you anywhere you want to go, but most of the time just dumps you vis-a-vis a gang of Vermicious Knids.
OCYSLG and OTD say goodbye for now and head off to their own Workrooms, where they get busy Working and impacting the future of back-of-the-house restaurant workers and maybe even the next mayor of San Francisco.
Their day can be likened to a bag of Seneca Apple Chips. The idea of the apple is there. Indeed, that's the basis of the chip itself. But there's something extra delicious about the crispy, buttery and tart taste that keeps you reaching your hand in the only-half-filled bag (contents settle due to shipping).
You continue to munch on this satisfying snack until it's all gone, at which point you kind of wish you had just eaten a real apple like in the days of yore! But it's so hard to eat real apples these days due to the exorbitant regulations surrounding them per the Pomum Protocol imposed by the Structure of Worktion. Plus, fruit--who needs it?
After Work, OCYSLG and OTD agree to hit up the local cantina for some drinks and meaty meat meat. They mount their horsies, amidst much heckling from all the normal people driving cars, and trot on down to I Wish It Wasn't Monday's for some manly conversation and strawberry daiquiries.
"A sloth could not change a baby's diaper faster than a cheetah," rebuts OTD to OCYSLG's claim that, yes, it could.
After one too many Mike'ses, they agree on one animal that is good at changing diapers:
a woman.
They decide to end their evening on this congenial note and part ways.
For a brief moment they are sad to leave one another. They are best friends in a town of their worst enemies: boredom, anxiety, isolationism, and the lack of a decent record store. Parting is difficult, but they manage it every time.
On the ride home, OTD gets pulled over and ticketed for drunk horseback riding, although the actual ticket reads "just get a car cowboy." In addition to this harassment, the ticket comes with a paycheck's worth of a fine.
OCYSLG swings by and picks up OTG. They talk about other stuff not related to sloths and cheetahs...most of it's OCYSLG's daily musings which prepares OTG for sleeping. He kisses her goodnight, drifts off and then dreams of HOSO. The moon shines bright through the slats.
It was a typical day here and our mysteriously-named friends have made the best of it.
They are their own sheriffs in a border town where no one really does the whole Wild West Thing anymore. In fact, no one really does a whole lot of anything anymore. Either that or they're doing things they don't like, they don't need, or that they despise.
But our friends are spending their lives the way they want to.
Even if they don't have a penny to show for it.
23.3.05
you be the judge
I usually don't follow news stories to such a detailed extent, but this one has truly piqued my interest.
In addition to raising many hard questions about our own lives, deaths and morals, the Terri Schiavo case also makes me reconsider my position on federalism.
(Yes, I have a position on federalism and I reconsider it regularly.)
Basically, who gets to rule over what? This case has been bounced back and forth between local, state and federal jurisdiction and most recently, points out a rather large discrepency with most Republicans' view of leaving most things to "the States." With their special bill, the US Congress essentially trespassed on Florida's property. It went in and took the case from one jurisdiction and moved it to another. This really gets me going, especially when they tout the importance of State's rights on other issues which favor their political agenda.
But in this case, I'm finding it difficult to be such a hard-liner when it comes to federalism. Indeed, this one's a tough call. Sometimes the Federal government needs to step in if they don't find a State's goings-on appropriate. Like in Arkansas during Civil Rights.
Then again, I'm skeptical about some federal lawmakers simply using a strictly-Florida case for their own political gain on the national level.
No matter what, though, cases like this will at least keep nerds like me thinking about the Constitution and our judicial system. In addition, there's one thing that the Terri Schiavo case clearly points out, and that's the importance of making a living will.
In case you're wondering what's been happening for the past decade, here's my summary which draws on numerous resources:
1990
-Terri has cardiac arrest, the initial injury leading to her state today
-Court appoints Terri's husband Michael Schiavo as her guardian and the Schindlers (Terri's family) do not object
1993
-After disagreeing over settlement money from a malpractice suit involving Terri, Schindlers try to remove Michael as Terri's guardian but court rejects request
1998
-Michael's first attempt to remove feeding tube, challenged by the Schindlers
2000
-Florida Judge Greer presides over case; orders removal of tube; permits a stay (or delay) of removal until April 20, 2001 in order for the Schindlers' appeals to be given a chance
2001
-Schindlers challenge first ruling, but their appeal is denied in Florida's Second District of Appeal; removal of tube upheld
-Schindlers' attempt of rehearing in Appellate Court denied, as well as their attempt to extend the stay beyond April 20th
-Schindlers petition the Florida Supreme Court to extend stay, FLSC denies review of situation but a Federal District Judge extends the stay until April 23rd so that the Schindlers can appeal to the SCOTUS
-SCOTUS denies writ (doesn't accept the case)
-Per original State Judge Greer's order, the tube is removed on April 24th
-Schindlers file an emergency motion with Greer and a new civil suit against Michael. Two days later, a Federal Circuit Court judge orders the reinsertion of the tube due to this new civil suit
-Now Michael files an emergency motion to remove the tube with the Florida Second District of Appeal, but that court gives it back to original Judge Greer, who, in mid August, finds that the tube be removed again. He sets the date for October 9th in order to give the family time to appeal. That delay is extended indefinitely by the 2DCA (Greer's next-higher court)
2002
-Michael and Schindlers try to work things out ("mediation") but fail to do so
-After months of battling over whether a new set of doctors can review Terri's condition (they eventually do), Shindlers ask for more time to again try to remove Michael as Terri's guardian. But on November 22nd, Judge Greer again rules against them and orders the removal of the tube on January 3, 2003. He then stays the ruling saying the tube must remain until the Schindlers have finished all appeals
2003
-Half a year later in June, the 2DCA affirms Greer's decision to remove the tube. The date is set for October 15th
-The FLSC refuses once again to hear the case
-Schindlers appeal to the Federal courts--with Gov. Bush as a backer--but the Federal judge say's it's not in his jurisdiction
-On October 15th the tube is removed again
-Advocacy groups and such turn to the Florida legislators, who, on October 21st pass "Terri's Law," which allows Gov. Bush to override the courts using a one-time stay. The tube is reinserted that day
-Backed by the ACLU, Michael says the law is unconstitutional. He files a lawsuit in the state court
-Gov. Bush tries to stop Michael's lawsuit, but is denied. Bush appeals to the next higher court and also tries to remove the judge who denied him. That petition is itself denied.
2004
-In early May "Terri's Law" is ruled unconstitutional by the Florida Circuit Court. Bush appeals and Michael petitions that the appeal skips the 2DCA and goes straight to the FLSC. Michael's petition is approved
-On September 23 the FLSC unanimously votes that "Terri's Law" is unconstitutional
-Judge Greer, who was reelected by a land slide, stays the removal of her tube until December 6th
-Gov. Bush appeals the "Terri's Law" FLSC ruling to the SCOTUS but on January 24th, 2005, the SCOTUS denies writ
2005
-The tube is still set for removal, but the date is TBA per Judge Greer's orders that all pending appeals (in other related cases regarding guardianship, etc.) have been completed
-Greer sets removal date of February 23rd, which is the day he's expected to hear the last appeal
-On the 23rd, he stays the removal until the 25th, in order to give him time to issue his official and detailed orders. He says, “absent a stay from the appellate courts, the guardian, Michael Schiavo, shall cause the removal of nutrition and hydration from the ward, Theresa Schiavo, at 1 p.m. on Friday, March 18, 2005." The Schindlers appeal to the 2DCA but last week (March 16th), that court upheld Greer's decision
in the last few days:
-18: The US House Committee on Government Reform tries to intervene by ordering subpoenas requiring Michael and Terri to appear before it. It also asks Greer to stay his decision and asks the FLSC to reverse Greer's decision--both say no. Tube is removed.
-19-20: Congress stays in DC to pass a private bill, which gives the Middle District of Florida jurisdiction over the case. The Bill, S.686 is a special "private bill," not intended for use by future courts or to make 'special' rights for Terri.
-22: Judge Whittemore of that Middle District refused reinsertion of tube. Schindlers appeal to the US Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit
-Today: A three-judge panel from that Circuit votes 2-1 against reinserting the tube saying that the Schindlers have "failed to demonstrate a substantial case on the merits of any of their claims." The Schindlers are requesting a rehearing by the full 12 justices, hoping to keep Terri alive until all legal options have been exhausted
In addition to raising many hard questions about our own lives, deaths and morals, the Terri Schiavo case also makes me reconsider my position on federalism.
(Yes, I have a position on federalism and I reconsider it regularly.)
Basically, who gets to rule over what? This case has been bounced back and forth between local, state and federal jurisdiction and most recently, points out a rather large discrepency with most Republicans' view of leaving most things to "the States." With their special bill, the US Congress essentially trespassed on Florida's property. It went in and took the case from one jurisdiction and moved it to another. This really gets me going, especially when they tout the importance of State's rights on other issues which favor their political agenda.
But in this case, I'm finding it difficult to be such a hard-liner when it comes to federalism. Indeed, this one's a tough call. Sometimes the Federal government needs to step in if they don't find a State's goings-on appropriate. Like in Arkansas during Civil Rights.
Then again, I'm skeptical about some federal lawmakers simply using a strictly-Florida case for their own political gain on the national level.
No matter what, though, cases like this will at least keep nerds like me thinking about the Constitution and our judicial system. In addition, there's one thing that the Terri Schiavo case clearly points out, and that's the importance of making a living will.
In case you're wondering what's been happening for the past decade, here's my summary which draws on numerous resources:
1990
-Terri has cardiac arrest, the initial injury leading to her state today
-Court appoints Terri's husband Michael Schiavo as her guardian and the Schindlers (Terri's family) do not object
1993
-After disagreeing over settlement money from a malpractice suit involving Terri, Schindlers try to remove Michael as Terri's guardian but court rejects request
1998
-Michael's first attempt to remove feeding tube, challenged by the Schindlers
2000
-Florida Judge Greer presides over case; orders removal of tube; permits a stay (or delay) of removal until April 20, 2001 in order for the Schindlers' appeals to be given a chance
2001
-Schindlers challenge first ruling, but their appeal is denied in Florida's Second District of Appeal; removal of tube upheld
-Schindlers' attempt of rehearing in Appellate Court denied, as well as their attempt to extend the stay beyond April 20th
-Schindlers petition the Florida Supreme Court to extend stay, FLSC denies review of situation but a Federal District Judge extends the stay until April 23rd so that the Schindlers can appeal to the SCOTUS
-SCOTUS denies writ (doesn't accept the case)
-Per original State Judge Greer's order, the tube is removed on April 24th
-Schindlers file an emergency motion with Greer and a new civil suit against Michael. Two days later, a Federal Circuit Court judge orders the reinsertion of the tube due to this new civil suit
-Now Michael files an emergency motion to remove the tube with the Florida Second District of Appeal, but that court gives it back to original Judge Greer, who, in mid August, finds that the tube be removed again. He sets the date for October 9th in order to give the family time to appeal. That delay is extended indefinitely by the 2DCA (Greer's next-higher court)
2002
-Michael and Schindlers try to work things out ("mediation") but fail to do so
-After months of battling over whether a new set of doctors can review Terri's condition (they eventually do), Shindlers ask for more time to again try to remove Michael as Terri's guardian. But on November 22nd, Judge Greer again rules against them and orders the removal of the tube on January 3, 2003. He then stays the ruling saying the tube must remain until the Schindlers have finished all appeals
2003
-Half a year later in June, the 2DCA affirms Greer's decision to remove the tube. The date is set for October 15th
-The FLSC refuses once again to hear the case
-Schindlers appeal to the Federal courts--with Gov. Bush as a backer--but the Federal judge say's it's not in his jurisdiction
-On October 15th the tube is removed again
-Advocacy groups and such turn to the Florida legislators, who, on October 21st pass "Terri's Law," which allows Gov. Bush to override the courts using a one-time stay. The tube is reinserted that day
-Backed by the ACLU, Michael says the law is unconstitutional. He files a lawsuit in the state court
-Gov. Bush tries to stop Michael's lawsuit, but is denied. Bush appeals to the next higher court and also tries to remove the judge who denied him. That petition is itself denied.
2004
-In early May "Terri's Law" is ruled unconstitutional by the Florida Circuit Court. Bush appeals and Michael petitions that the appeal skips the 2DCA and goes straight to the FLSC. Michael's petition is approved
-On September 23 the FLSC unanimously votes that "Terri's Law" is unconstitutional
-Judge Greer, who was reelected by a land slide, stays the removal of her tube until December 6th
-Gov. Bush appeals the "Terri's Law" FLSC ruling to the SCOTUS but on January 24th, 2005, the SCOTUS denies writ
2005
-The tube is still set for removal, but the date is TBA per Judge Greer's orders that all pending appeals (in other related cases regarding guardianship, etc.) have been completed
-Greer sets removal date of February 23rd, which is the day he's expected to hear the last appeal
-On the 23rd, he stays the removal until the 25th, in order to give him time to issue his official and detailed orders. He says, “absent a stay from the appellate courts, the guardian, Michael Schiavo, shall cause the removal of nutrition and hydration from the ward, Theresa Schiavo, at 1 p.m. on Friday, March 18, 2005." The Schindlers appeal to the 2DCA but last week (March 16th), that court upheld Greer's decision
in the last few days:
-18: The US House Committee on Government Reform tries to intervene by ordering subpoenas requiring Michael and Terri to appear before it. It also asks Greer to stay his decision and asks the FLSC to reverse Greer's decision--both say no. Tube is removed.
-19-20: Congress stays in DC to pass a private bill, which gives the Middle District of Florida jurisdiction over the case. The Bill, S.686 is a special "private bill," not intended for use by future courts or to make 'special' rights for Terri.
-22: Judge Whittemore of that Middle District refused reinsertion of tube. Schindlers appeal to the US Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit
-Today: A three-judge panel from that Circuit votes 2-1 against reinserting the tube saying that the Schindlers have "failed to demonstrate a substantial case on the merits of any of their claims." The Schindlers are requesting a rehearing by the full 12 justices, hoping to keep Terri alive until all legal options have been exhausted
19.3.05
march sadness
(yes, i thought of that on my own just now)
come on, guys, what the fuck.
i truly wish the catamounts (whatever those are) the best of luck.
i'm a sucker for underdogs, so for the rest of the tourney i'll keep my fingers crossed for the guys in green.
see, i really am a nice person.
come on, guys, what the fuck.
i truly wish the catamounts (whatever those are) the best of luck.
i'm a sucker for underdogs, so for the rest of the tourney i'll keep my fingers crossed for the guys in green.
see, i really am a nice person.
17.3.05
15.3.05
ides
Today is the Ides of March, the day Julius Caesar was assassinated in 44 BC.
The term "ides" comes from the Latin iduare, "to divide." It refers to the midpoint of a month, which was supposed to coincide with the full moon. The Romans used the term to number a month's days (so the 13th of the month would be "two days before the Ides"), but otherwise there was no particular significance to the date.
The term "ides" comes from the Latin iduare, "to divide." It refers to the midpoint of a month, which was supposed to coincide with the full moon. The Romans used the term to number a month's days (so the 13th of the month would be "two days before the Ides"), but otherwise there was no particular significance to the date.
14.3.05
advertising
OK people. What the fuck?
I've recently seen advertisements for bread and marriage.
Again, that's BREAD and MARRIAGE.
I've recently seen advertisements for bread and marriage.
Again, that's BREAD and MARRIAGE.
7.3.05
monday's thoughts
I was thinking about blogs today and I realized that I might not like them that much.
I mean, there's something about not knowing what someone's up to for a long time, and then spending a good hour catching up in real life.
The blog kind of takes the magic out of long-distant friendships.
Plus, who gives a crap what I'm talking about anyway??
________________________________________________
that's about it.
Oh, and I got a huge tax refund. That was cool.
Oh, and the Nats are 500. Is that the right term?
Oh, and "irregardless" is now in the dictionary. Touche.
Oh, and I got accepted into the DC Teaching Fellows and was also offered a docket clerk job at the DC courts but turned both down in order to move to San Francisco in January to help my friend/former radio producer-boss start a non profit radio production company and launch a new radio show which I have no idea will be successful (I think it will) but it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so I couldn't pass it up and I know I want to be a teacher but this came up at the last minute and will only enrich my life, thus making me a better teacher in the future so I guess I'm kind of nervous having turned down such a good opportunity but in the end I think it will all work out and I'm happy with my decision and the chance to create something from scratch and be a part of such an innovative idea so we'll see how it goes, huh, and until then I'll be a receptionist but with a higher purpose always with a higher purpose and that's the way my life is feeling right now--on the up and up--i'm gonna go ahead and run in the marine corps marathon in october i decided that i couldn't be inactive anymore so i said fuck it i miss running and that's that because there's something about running that i couldn't leave, even after two years of not running i still felt a void oh and i think spring is here and i've never felt so excited for spring, for the warmth, for the life which i feel right now and i think i'm done with both this post-grad funk and this funky post peace out and have a marvellous day
I mean, there's something about not knowing what someone's up to for a long time, and then spending a good hour catching up in real life.
The blog kind of takes the magic out of long-distant friendships.
Plus, who gives a crap what I'm talking about anyway??
________________________________________________
that's about it.
Oh, and I got a huge tax refund. That was cool.
Oh, and the Nats are 500. Is that the right term?
Oh, and "irregardless" is now in the dictionary. Touche.
Oh, and I got accepted into the DC Teaching Fellows and was also offered a docket clerk job at the DC courts but turned both down in order to move to San Francisco in January to help my friend/former radio producer-boss start a non profit radio production company and launch a new radio show which I have no idea will be successful (I think it will) but it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so I couldn't pass it up and I know I want to be a teacher but this came up at the last minute and will only enrich my life, thus making me a better teacher in the future so I guess I'm kind of nervous having turned down such a good opportunity but in the end I think it will all work out and I'm happy with my decision and the chance to create something from scratch and be a part of such an innovative idea so we'll see how it goes, huh, and until then I'll be a receptionist but with a higher purpose always with a higher purpose and that's the way my life is feeling right now--on the up and up--i'm gonna go ahead and run in the marine corps marathon in october i decided that i couldn't be inactive anymore so i said fuck it i miss running and that's that because there's something about running that i couldn't leave, even after two years of not running i still felt a void oh and i think spring is here and i've never felt so excited for spring, for the warmth, for the life which i feel right now and i think i'm done with both this post-grad funk and this funky post peace out and have a marvellous day
4.3.05
aural acrostics
fun, narcissisctic and pointless, but isn't that what a blog is anyway?
my version of this game, using my favorite songs:
everyday is a winding road (sheryl crow)
make you feel that way (blackalicious) tied with mad mission by patty griffin & metaphysical by handsome boy modeling school
in the aeroplane over the sea (neutral milk hotel)
least complicated (ig)
iowa (dar williams)
estoy aqui (shakira)
glass house (ani)
recommendation (mirah)
all is full of love (bjork) tied with anarchy in the uk by sex pistols & the all things considered theme song
'cello song (nick drake)
eine kleine nachtmusik (mozart)
concrete schoolyard (j5)
obvious child (paul simon) tied with o fortuna! by carl orff and ode to joy by beethoven
la la love you (pixies)
everytime you say goodbye (alison krauss & union station)
my version of this game, using my favorite songs:
everyday is a winding road (sheryl crow)
make you feel that way (blackalicious) tied with mad mission by patty griffin & metaphysical by handsome boy modeling school
in the aeroplane over the sea (neutral milk hotel)
least complicated (ig)
iowa (dar williams)
estoy aqui (shakira)
glass house (ani)
recommendation (mirah)
all is full of love (bjork) tied with anarchy in the uk by sex pistols & the all things considered theme song
'cello song (nick drake)
eine kleine nachtmusik (mozart)
concrete schoolyard (j5)
obvious child (paul simon) tied with o fortuna! by carl orff and ode to joy by beethoven
la la love you (pixies)
everytime you say goodbye (alison krauss & union station)
3.3.05
mi amigos
I was just about to post a comment in response to Spooner's recent post "Kid Fears" (by the way, you get a Ping hat if you know the reference), but I thought it might be better if I reply publically right here so that you all can learn yet something else about me.
Oh, what fun.
I just wrote a long, droning post, but then deleted it.
Basically what I want to say is that I learned the concept of friendship from my parents (who didn't ever have those close family friends next door) and the Army (emilie meet so-and-so. Become good friends with them. Now say bye because we're moving!)
So in conclusion, sorry for being such a weird friend sometimes and you're welcome for being such a good friend at other times.
Oh, what fun.
I just wrote a long, droning post, but then deleted it.
Basically what I want to say is that I learned the concept of friendship from my parents (who didn't ever have those close family friends next door) and the Army (emilie meet so-and-so. Become good friends with them. Now say bye because we're moving!)
So in conclusion, sorry for being such a weird friend sometimes and you're welcome for being such a good friend at other times.
1.3.05
year of the rooster
There's definitely something I've realized during this weird post-coll life of mine, and that's that I'm sometimes a big wuss. Do you feel that, too? Or is it just me? Oh, you didn't mean that.
Maybe it's because, up until graduation, I had always had a set goal or achievement for which to strive. Or maybe not and I should just stop rambling.
Anyway, though I feel like I'm finally coming out of this abysmal state, there are still moments where I just feel shaken. I feel like the core of my being is jeopardized when I discover/realize something new about myself that scares the shit out of me.
Yesterday this happened at Bikram yoga.
BTW, Bikram yoga is like this suped-up, LA, powershake version of yoga--which may or may not completely contradict the idea of yoga itself. It was invented by a master yogi, C. Bikram, who thinks (yes, he's still alive, lives in LA and teaches the Hollywood elite his practice) that we Westerners need a little more spice in our paid relaxation sessions.
That "spice" is in the form of a 120-degree room.
I'm not going to go into much detail, but yesterday I fell out of my Bikram session. Granted, it was only the second time I've ever attended, but everytime I moved a muscle I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn't hold my arms up anymore in whatthehellasana.
Also, my face felt on the verge of exploding.
And then, it did explode!
Crying, I rolled up my mat and tried to leave the room without stepping on any of the sweaty bodies between me and the fresh, cool air of wussdom.
It's kind of funny to me today that I broke down in a yoga session. But at the time, it really shook me. I just couldn't do it and my body was laughing at me.
"Look at you, you wuss. You used to run 80 miles a week. You used to go to UNC soccer camp in the sweltering NC heat. You used to have a strong mind and you used to believe in yourself. Ha."
Now, I know yoga is about not competing, not pressuring yourself and, in fact, these ideas were not what was going on in my mind-a-roo. What was going through my mind was the fact that I was hit with the cold, hard truth about my current life. Right there in a room of sweaty people in Tree Pose.
What that truth was is that I'm not who I used to be--mentally, physically, vegetarianally. I know I've had a rough-and-tumble kind of past two years, marked by new physical limitations and slips of meat eating. Also self-doubt, confusion, occupational frustration and automotive transmission.
But yesterday I came to terms with all that. I accepted it all for what it was and cried like the little baby I've become.
Then I went ahead and bought a membership pass, cause I'm going to kick ass at next week's session, bitches!
Maybe it's because, up until graduation, I had always had a set goal or achievement for which to strive. Or maybe not and I should just stop rambling.
Anyway, though I feel like I'm finally coming out of this abysmal state, there are still moments where I just feel shaken. I feel like the core of my being is jeopardized when I discover/realize something new about myself that scares the shit out of me.
Yesterday this happened at Bikram yoga.
BTW, Bikram yoga is like this suped-up, LA, powershake version of yoga--which may or may not completely contradict the idea of yoga itself. It was invented by a master yogi, C. Bikram, who thinks (yes, he's still alive, lives in LA and teaches the Hollywood elite his practice) that we Westerners need a little more spice in our paid relaxation sessions.
That "spice" is in the form of a 120-degree room.
I'm not going to go into much detail, but yesterday I fell out of my Bikram session. Granted, it was only the second time I've ever attended, but everytime I moved a muscle I felt like I was going to pass out. I couldn't hold my arms up anymore in whatthehellasana.
Also, my face felt on the verge of exploding.
And then, it did explode!
Crying, I rolled up my mat and tried to leave the room without stepping on any of the sweaty bodies between me and the fresh, cool air of wussdom.
It's kind of funny to me today that I broke down in a yoga session. But at the time, it really shook me. I just couldn't do it and my body was laughing at me.
"Look at you, you wuss. You used to run 80 miles a week. You used to go to UNC soccer camp in the sweltering NC heat. You used to have a strong mind and you used to believe in yourself. Ha."
Now, I know yoga is about not competing, not pressuring yourself and, in fact, these ideas were not what was going on in my mind-a-roo. What was going through my mind was the fact that I was hit with the cold, hard truth about my current life. Right there in a room of sweaty people in Tree Pose.
What that truth was is that I'm not who I used to be--mentally, physically, vegetarianally. I know I've had a rough-and-tumble kind of past two years, marked by new physical limitations and slips of meat eating. Also self-doubt, confusion, occupational frustration and automotive transmission.
But yesterday I came to terms with all that. I accepted it all for what it was and cried like the little baby I've become.
Then I went ahead and bought a membership pass, cause I'm going to kick ass at next week's session, bitches!
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