Christmas shopping, Christmas shopping. Oh, my goodness. I've already received quite a few wonderful gifts and I'm overwhelmed with the pressure of buying and making some lovely things for some of my favorite people, and making it "personal". Mom's gift was shipped to my house and I'm just happy it arrived in time for me to wrap and put around the tree. Dad's is ready but it needs a lot of wrapping paper! Suzy's is wrapped and looks very pretty...Netty's is the only one I'm still working on, and everyone else is pretty much covered. Phew! In the meantime, I'm feeling quite blessed that I'm so prepared this year. I got a surprise gift of lip gloss from a wonderful co-worker and some wine, as well as a Jean-Paul Sartre philosophy book, "On Being and Nothingness," from two other co-workers, which is precisely what I asked for! Lately, it seems people have been really thoughtful and considerate about seeking gifts that "speak" to me. I even received two books of poetry from good friends....Lately, my friendships have been growing more and more...so much so that I have been able to make special presents that tell inside jokes, or regard memories that mean something to me and hopefully the other person, as well. And I've been given presents as well, that I will cherish.
Truly a time of giving, and I'm just so happy to be celebrating this year! It is going to be a wonderful holiday! Not to mention my cousins from The Netherlands are here and we're having a blast...Arjan, Petra, Lex, Lisa...Love you!
Here are some pictures from the Christmas-Hanukkah soiree I threw a few weeks ago. Password is in lower case letters: christmas
http://gs98.photobucket.com/groups/l268/C3GMBB9Y2Q/?albumview=grid
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Well, Well
Among The Narcissi
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.
The narcissi, too, are bowing to some big thing :
It rattles their stars on the green hill where Percy
Nurses the hardship of his stitches, and walks and walks.
There is a dignity to this; there is a formality-
The flowers vivid as bandages, and the man mending.
They bow and stand : they suffer such attacks!
And the octogenarian loves the little flocks.
He is quite blue; the terrible wind tries his breathing.
The narcissi look up like children, quickly and whitely.
Sylvia Plath
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.
The narcissi, too, are bowing to some big thing :
It rattles their stars on the green hill where Percy
Nurses the hardship of his stitches, and walks and walks.
There is a dignity to this; there is a formality-
The flowers vivid as bandages, and the man mending.
They bow and stand : they suffer such attacks!
And the octogenarian loves the little flocks.
He is quite blue; the terrible wind tries his breathing.
The narcissi look up like children, quickly and whitely.
Sylvia Plath
Thursday, December 11, 2008
On The Feminine
How often do we subscribe qualities to a male or female that is considered masculine or feminine without giving pause? More often than I would care to find comfortable. I think that each individual is unique and to assign elements, gendered elements, per se, is presumptuous. As I mentioned in my last post on emotions and how we might keep ours under control in order to protect our heart, what of the person who transcends gendered roles? A quality of "opaqueness" of emotion, is traditionally, male. What about the female who is constantly opaque, without transparency in her feelings? In being a woman of masked emotion, she may stand in stark contrast to the females who express their sadness in tears or words, who express their anger or surprise in raised voices. What about the male who is easily angered, who pours out his heart by saying romantic, flowery things that mean something to him? Is he to be pitied just as the woman transgresses in 'masking'? We are so often confined by the role we were taught to be as a male or female that we are "judged" by others to be so, even if we are not.
I do not easily confess how I feel to others. My nature is to hold back. It was in my mother's nature, and is so in mine. She has difficulty even being hugged when she gets personally injured. Then often acts as if she feels no emotion by ignoring the issue. I am not so different. Yet, still, if I have a headache or a bad day, I can feel sad or irritated. On these days, the perception has been all too easy for one to say, "You are moody. You are emotional," as if this blanket judgment is an expectation one could have any day of the week. What is that? Why? Then again, when I don't show if I'm in love or if I am unclear about whether I want something or no, I am told I don't "live in the moment" or "give enough of myself", as if I should. Perhaps because I am a woman? As a female, we should be caring, loving, expressive...and if not, what are we? What am I?
All have emotions. I think it might be all too easy for a man to be judged, as well, for acting contrary to his nature. A man for being too expressive. A woman for not being. And what if all this jibber jabber about the growth of feminine and masculine qualities are merely mores of societal mythology intended to keep the patriarchal status quo. I object. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Something more to consider is below from an asian philosophical perspective: (below):
Is the Daode Jing a Feminist Text?
Laozi’s Daode Jing – the primary scripture of Taoism – promotes the cultivation of qualities such as receptivity, gentleness, and subtlety. In many western cultural contexts, these are qualities considered to be “feminine.” Even though most translations render the Chinese characters for “person” or “sage” as “man,” this has everything to do with the translations themselves, and little or nothing to do with the text itself. The original Chinese is always gender-neutral. One of the few places where the text assumes a distinctly gendered language is in verse six:
The Spirit of the valley never dies.
They call it wondrous female.
Through the portal of her mystery
Creation ever wells forth.
It lingers like gossamer and seems not to be
Yet when summoned, ever flows freely.
~ Laozi’s Daode Jing, verse 6 (translated by Douglas Allchin)
I do not easily confess how I feel to others. My nature is to hold back. It was in my mother's nature, and is so in mine. She has difficulty even being hugged when she gets personally injured. Then often acts as if she feels no emotion by ignoring the issue. I am not so different. Yet, still, if I have a headache or a bad day, I can feel sad or irritated. On these days, the perception has been all too easy for one to say, "You are moody. You are emotional," as if this blanket judgment is an expectation one could have any day of the week. What is that? Why? Then again, when I don't show if I'm in love or if I am unclear about whether I want something or no, I am told I don't "live in the moment" or "give enough of myself", as if I should. Perhaps because I am a woman? As a female, we should be caring, loving, expressive...and if not, what are we? What am I?
All have emotions. I think it might be all too easy for a man to be judged, as well, for acting contrary to his nature. A man for being too expressive. A woman for not being. And what if all this jibber jabber about the growth of feminine and masculine qualities are merely mores of societal mythology intended to keep the patriarchal status quo. I object. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Something more to consider is below from an asian philosophical perspective: (below):
Is the Daode Jing a Feminist Text?
Laozi’s Daode Jing – the primary scripture of Taoism – promotes the cultivation of qualities such as receptivity, gentleness, and subtlety. In many western cultural contexts, these are qualities considered to be “feminine.” Even though most translations render the Chinese characters for “person” or “sage” as “man,” this has everything to do with the translations themselves, and little or nothing to do with the text itself. The original Chinese is always gender-neutral. One of the few places where the text assumes a distinctly gendered language is in verse six:
The Spirit of the valley never dies.
They call it wondrous female.
Through the portal of her mystery
Creation ever wells forth.
It lingers like gossamer and seems not to be
Yet when summoned, ever flows freely.
~ Laozi’s Daode Jing, verse 6 (translated by Douglas Allchin)
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
An Agitation
‘I wished to hear the sound of your voice,’ he said.
‘You’ve heard it, and you see it says nothing very sweet.’
‘It gives me pleasure, all the same.’ And with this he got up.
She had felt pain and displeasure on receiving early that day the news he was in Florence and by her leave would come within an hour to see her. She had been vexed and distressed, though she had sent back word by his messenger that he might come when he would. She had not been better pleased when she saw him; his being there at all was so full of heavy implications. It implied things she could never assent to—rights, reproaches, remonstrance, rebuke, the expectation of making her change her purpose. These things, however, if implied, had not been expressed; and now our young lady, strangely enough, began to resent her visitor’s remarkable self-control. There was a dumb misery about him that irritated her; there was a manly staying of his hand that made her heart beat faster. She felt her agitation rising, and she said to herself that she was angry in the way a woman is angry when she has been in the wrong. She was not in the wrong; she had fortunately not that bitterness to swallow; but, all the same, she wished he would denounce her a little. She had wished his visit would be short; it had no purpose, no propriety; yet now that he seemed to be turning away she felt a sudden horror of his leaving her without uttering a word that would give her an opportunity to defend herself more than she had done in writing to him a month before, in a few carefully chosen words, to announce her engagement. If she were not in the wrong, however, why should she desire to defend herself? It was an excess of generosity on Isabel’s part to desire that Mr Goodwood should be angry.
This is a passage from Portrait of A Lady and though it was written several years ago, I think this passage poignant because of its relevance to human interaction. Specifically, trysts and interludes.
An agitation, though it was, to be around Goodwood, our female character desires him to strike out in anger, tell her she’s wrong. It is such a familiar feeling; the desire to see emotion. If we feel that another person is terribly composed when we know them to be angry, we would wait for that moment for him to yell, to scream, to let go of his emotions. This would do so righteously, for then that Other would be doing us an injustice. Instead, the person sits or stands calmly before us, knowing how to handle her purpose/his purpose. What is one to do? Accept it and with so much unsaid, there is that “dumb misery about him” that Isabel saw and detested so very much.
Goodwood has such self discipline as to accept things as they are. While I won’t go into detail about the circumstances of the foregoing story, the plight is one all of us have dealt with. Isabel has bad news and he hears it calmly, with the desire to see her, to be near her, even though everything feels like a letdown. When one wants something so greatly and it doesn’t come, having that self-control he has amounts to something. The game men and women often play with one another amounts to a lot of suffering but also a lot of happiness, but often that “remarkable self-control” is what wins. Let the feelings play out, let a person know how you feel, but not to show it off, is what kills. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It reminds me of why I sometimes play the game, myself. I may not wish to do so, but when the time comes and I yearn to have something, I may wait patiently for it and then see if that self discipline is fruitful. It has proven to be so fruitful in the past, it is hard to disregard its power in the future. Unfortunately, it is a small game of deception to hide such emotion. But, it is also a considerably protective way of dealing with one’s heart. And this is something my loved ones have always reminded me to guard before anything else.
‘You’ve heard it, and you see it says nothing very sweet.’
‘It gives me pleasure, all the same.’ And with this he got up.
She had felt pain and displeasure on receiving early that day the news he was in Florence and by her leave would come within an hour to see her. She had been vexed and distressed, though she had sent back word by his messenger that he might come when he would. She had not been better pleased when she saw him; his being there at all was so full of heavy implications. It implied things she could never assent to—rights, reproaches, remonstrance, rebuke, the expectation of making her change her purpose. These things, however, if implied, had not been expressed; and now our young lady, strangely enough, began to resent her visitor’s remarkable self-control. There was a dumb misery about him that irritated her; there was a manly staying of his hand that made her heart beat faster. She felt her agitation rising, and she said to herself that she was angry in the way a woman is angry when she has been in the wrong. She was not in the wrong; she had fortunately not that bitterness to swallow; but, all the same, she wished he would denounce her a little. She had wished his visit would be short; it had no purpose, no propriety; yet now that he seemed to be turning away she felt a sudden horror of his leaving her without uttering a word that would give her an opportunity to defend herself more than she had done in writing to him a month before, in a few carefully chosen words, to announce her engagement. If she were not in the wrong, however, why should she desire to defend herself? It was an excess of generosity on Isabel’s part to desire that Mr Goodwood should be angry.
This is a passage from Portrait of A Lady and though it was written several years ago, I think this passage poignant because of its relevance to human interaction. Specifically, trysts and interludes.
An agitation, though it was, to be around Goodwood, our female character desires him to strike out in anger, tell her she’s wrong. It is such a familiar feeling; the desire to see emotion. If we feel that another person is terribly composed when we know them to be angry, we would wait for that moment for him to yell, to scream, to let go of his emotions. This would do so righteously, for then that Other would be doing us an injustice. Instead, the person sits or stands calmly before us, knowing how to handle her purpose/his purpose. What is one to do? Accept it and with so much unsaid, there is that “dumb misery about him” that Isabel saw and detested so very much.
Goodwood has such self discipline as to accept things as they are. While I won’t go into detail about the circumstances of the foregoing story, the plight is one all of us have dealt with. Isabel has bad news and he hears it calmly, with the desire to see her, to be near her, even though everything feels like a letdown. When one wants something so greatly and it doesn’t come, having that self-control he has amounts to something. The game men and women often play with one another amounts to a lot of suffering but also a lot of happiness, but often that “remarkable self-control” is what wins. Let the feelings play out, let a person know how you feel, but not to show it off, is what kills. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It reminds me of why I sometimes play the game, myself. I may not wish to do so, but when the time comes and I yearn to have something, I may wait patiently for it and then see if that self discipline is fruitful. It has proven to be so fruitful in the past, it is hard to disregard its power in the future. Unfortunately, it is a small game of deception to hide such emotion. But, it is also a considerably protective way of dealing with one’s heart. And this is something my loved ones have always reminded me to guard before anything else.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Philosophy, Ethics, and Cleanliness
The following article I'm going to link here discusses clean bodies and dirty minds. A recent psychology study showed that people who washed with soap and water were more inclined to be lenient when viewing activities ethical or unethical. Rather, lenient when it came to choosing what they considered satisfactorily moral or not. It made me wonder about how often we 'wash our hands' of the choices we make. Of course, people make that observation all the time when looking at other peoples’ choices:
“You can do what you want with your life, but I would never do that.”
“You guys can argue all you want, but I wash my hands of this situation.”
But, what about our own moral obligations to ourselves? Or our personal ethics when dealing with people we care about and/or friends? It is hard not to step in (or have the desire to) when we see someone dealing unkindly or acting in a way that is harmful to themselves or is simply wrong. But, when we make poor choices, ourselves, how do we reconcile this? Or, what if the choices we make aren’t wrong, but we feel guilty because things didn’t turn out the way we planned after taking a risk or a leap of intention? We feel we should have “known better”, “expected this the first time,” or we just beat the dead horse when thinking about how we could have foreseen the future. In my choices, sometimes I think not so much “what if”, but wonder if I can do something to eradicate my mistake or my results. It is of no use saying I could have avoided a choice I made. I’ve already made my decision. However, can we do something to wipe the slate clean? To change how we feel? To begin anew? That’s the problem with emotions. It seems the only way to wipe them clean is to wait. Time seems to be the solver, but time feels fickle. Sometimes it goes slow. Sometimes it goes fast. When we want it to speed up, it slows down. When we are happy, it moves on again quickly. In the meantime, we are left with the consequences of our choices or anything to ‘wash’ away our guilt or our feeling, whatever it is.
I just wish I knew sometimes what was best for me. I toss around these ideas in my head about what is ‘right’ for my career, for my state of mind, for my friendships, but I’m not sure I know. Or maybe it is that I lack the courage to choose because I am afraid of what I risk losing. With great risk, comes great reward, I always say. Perhaps I cannot even take my own advice seriously.
http://www.economist.com/science/displayStory.cfm?story_id=12630193&source=hptextfeature
Don't I know it.
“You can do what you want with your life, but I would never do that.”
“You guys can argue all you want, but I wash my hands of this situation.”
But, what about our own moral obligations to ourselves? Or our personal ethics when dealing with people we care about and/or friends? It is hard not to step in (or have the desire to) when we see someone dealing unkindly or acting in a way that is harmful to themselves or is simply wrong. But, when we make poor choices, ourselves, how do we reconcile this? Or, what if the choices we make aren’t wrong, but we feel guilty because things didn’t turn out the way we planned after taking a risk or a leap of intention? We feel we should have “known better”, “expected this the first time,” or we just beat the dead horse when thinking about how we could have foreseen the future. In my choices, sometimes I think not so much “what if”, but wonder if I can do something to eradicate my mistake or my results. It is of no use saying I could have avoided a choice I made. I’ve already made my decision. However, can we do something to wipe the slate clean? To change how we feel? To begin anew? That’s the problem with emotions. It seems the only way to wipe them clean is to wait. Time seems to be the solver, but time feels fickle. Sometimes it goes slow. Sometimes it goes fast. When we want it to speed up, it slows down. When we are happy, it moves on again quickly. In the meantime, we are left with the consequences of our choices or anything to ‘wash’ away our guilt or our feeling, whatever it is.
I just wish I knew sometimes what was best for me. I toss around these ideas in my head about what is ‘right’ for my career, for my state of mind, for my friendships, but I’m not sure I know. Or maybe it is that I lack the courage to choose because I am afraid of what I risk losing. With great risk, comes great reward, I always say. Perhaps I cannot even take my own advice seriously.
http://www.economist.com/science/displayStory.cfm?story_id=12630193&source=hptextfeature
Don't I know it.
Monday, October 27, 2008
That's Not the Point of Kimberly
Instincts are misleading. You shouldn't think what you're feeling. Thankfully, I don't. The problem about knowing that your cerebral "notes" are different than your emotional ones is that reconciling the distinction means you won't always get what you want. A few weeks ago, I began to notice that I was happy. Really happy. Be it the work I was involved in, the company I was keeping, the truth that was preaching itself to me. Today, I am different. Today, I am severely tired. Tired of knowing and not knowing. But, no matter. Perhaps there is some exquisite pleasure in waiting to have, because the knowing takes time. Anticipation requires a journey to arrive at the destination of choice, and if you do make it to the destination...You will have hoped and waited. And it will feel quite real.
"And if it ends, let it go down in flames." - Dashboard Confessional
This link gave me something to think about. (See if you can figure out why...That's not the point of Babette.)
http://radiofreesilverlake.blogspot.com
"And if it ends, let it go down in flames." - Dashboard Confessional
This link gave me something to think about. (See if you can figure out why...That's not the point of Babette.)
http://radiofreesilverlake.blogspot.com
Thursday, October 16, 2008
If you could become something else...
I want to
I want to be someone else or I'll explode
Floating upon this surface for the birds
The birds
The birds
- "Talk Show Host", by Radiohead
Have you ever had the urge to change your spots? If I was born a cheetah, I would have wished to be a leopard. I think it is in my nature to choose a distinction. I live in a beautiful condo by the coast of Newport with two beautiful, sweet girls, each with such distinctions in their character as not to deprive me of anything less than such energy and optimism each day. Sometimes the days go by and go by, yet I feel it is passing me by, not lifting me up. Given so much by so many – smiles as I walk by my desk in the office, gifts of mercy for things I’ve said or done wrong, a joke well-received instead of raised eyebrows, a piece of laughter for a chance to see the ocean and a trip on the sidewalk, and a call from a favorite friend. All this and more is mine to absorb, to behold. An observation or two gives me great pleasure. This is life. Yet, somehow I am still reaching. Always reaching to do something big. Bigger than what I already am. So, I stretch myself thing. But if I’m not someone else, I just might break into fragments. Like a glass you drop carelessly on the floor. One sensitive, delicate drop of a fragile cup and the glass shatters. The pieces are small, are jagged, have sharp edges, sometimes round, yet each piece can’t be simply placed back together to form one glass once more. Each piece is now apart. So, this is me. Or, what I could be, if I don’t find a way to keep myself together. In the meantime, I yearn to be a leopard. I could be fast like a cheetah, but I’d still want to be graceful like that species I am not. I may never be. But the insatiable quest to stand out. It will never die. I want to be someone else or I’ll explode.
I want to be someone else or I'll explode
Floating upon this surface for the birds
The birds
The birds
- "Talk Show Host", by Radiohead
Have you ever had the urge to change your spots? If I was born a cheetah, I would have wished to be a leopard. I think it is in my nature to choose a distinction. I live in a beautiful condo by the coast of Newport with two beautiful, sweet girls, each with such distinctions in their character as not to deprive me of anything less than such energy and optimism each day. Sometimes the days go by and go by, yet I feel it is passing me by, not lifting me up. Given so much by so many – smiles as I walk by my desk in the office, gifts of mercy for things I’ve said or done wrong, a joke well-received instead of raised eyebrows, a piece of laughter for a chance to see the ocean and a trip on the sidewalk, and a call from a favorite friend. All this and more is mine to absorb, to behold. An observation or two gives me great pleasure. This is life. Yet, somehow I am still reaching. Always reaching to do something big. Bigger than what I already am. So, I stretch myself thing. But if I’m not someone else, I just might break into fragments. Like a glass you drop carelessly on the floor. One sensitive, delicate drop of a fragile cup and the glass shatters. The pieces are small, are jagged, have sharp edges, sometimes round, yet each piece can’t be simply placed back together to form one glass once more. Each piece is now apart. So, this is me. Or, what I could be, if I don’t find a way to keep myself together. In the meantime, I yearn to be a leopard. I could be fast like a cheetah, but I’d still want to be graceful like that species I am not. I may never be. But the insatiable quest to stand out. It will never die. I want to be someone else or I’ll explode.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Plus de moi-même
"I hate American simplicity. I glory in the piling up of complications of every sort. If I could pronounce the name James in any different or more elaborate way I should be in favor of doing it." - Henry James
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Long Day...
So, I didn't really cut my hair, but I am seriously going to cut my hair in a few weeks, and so I'm preparing some of my friends for the shock (namely, you, and you, and you, and you). I love my long-curly-sometimes-straight hair, but as with many things in my life right now, there are going to be some changes. There have been several internal struggles with elements of my goings-on, with my thoughts, with my sleep patterns, dreams, walks along California sidewalks, but still I'm here doing as I do on a normal basis. There's been a lot more "alone" time lately, as I do like it. But. What I need is a place to put all my hopes and dreams. How does one describe the emotion that rushes through your body when you really want something because it adds creativity to you? Maybe it revises what you previously thought about yourself. Maybe what you previously thought about your own complexity or your own simplicity. Or maybe it just causes you to stare deeply at something in wonder and you like that. Maybe it is the romantic in me. I'm not romantic in every sense of the word. I think I lost the idea that there is one man for every woman, that every time a door closes, a window opens. But, there is the simple truth of how little control we have on our environment also affects our ability to make choices about what we do. For instance, I may not be able to change how someone feels about something I've said, but I can always provide the output I think is the most appropriate and sometimes one's attitude is the most important thing. I'm counting on my attitude to pull me through this strange week, even stranger month, and even more bizarre year I'm having. God works in mysterious ways and I do think there is ulitimately a plan that covers the whole context of one's life, but I won't be able to see the entire blueprint, so I have to live each day a little at a time. And maybe stare at that space a bit longer until I can figure out how it really affects me, individual, language and art lover, writer, traveler.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Get Your Own...
These are some thoughts from a German American poet. I don't want to say much more than that.
air and light and time and space
"–you know, I’ve either had a family, a job,
something has always been in the
way
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m going to have
a place and the time to
create."
no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
welfare,
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your body blown
away,
you’re going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.
© Charles Bukowski, Black Sparrow Press
air and light and time and space
"–you know, I’ve either had a family, a job,
something has always been in the
way
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m going to have
a place and the time to
create."
no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
welfare,
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your body blown
away,
you’re going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.
© Charles Bukowski, Black Sparrow Press
Turquoise
It has been a long time coming. For all of you who are my readers, I'm sorry it has been so long, but I simply am exhausted from coming home. Ever since my plane landed in Orange Country from London, exactly a month ago today, I've been swimming in the wonder of Europe, even though I'm not anywhere but here in the United States. It is difficult to describe how one can be so changed from just a few days out of their life, but time is another dimension, right? Perhaps not measured in hours, but measured by quality. My quality of life in England, France, Netherlands, Deutschland, and Italia was so drastically different and merveilleux (wonderful) that it has in fact, affected every single day I have been "home"! C'est increyable! My time has been in some ways, very, very morose, because despite being so happy that I had the opportunity to see and do so many activities, and absorb special experiences, I cannot seem to put as much motivation together for my daily responsibilities at work and my downtime is spent soothing my broken heart. Because...my heart aches to be in a country I don't understand, where each moment I'm learning and feeling and doing something that inspires each part of myself. My creativity in some ways is just pouring out of me because of how discontented I am, and yet I'm also so deliriously happy because I have these moments which speak to me each day about how lucky I am to be alive. I cannot even begin to place this into words that make the kind of sense I want. I know these sentences are fragmented and displaced. Yet I cannot help myself. I am drowning. And happy. And sad.
Look into her eyes.
Look into her eyes.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
London...As An Existentialist
Why does it seem that when you have all this time on your hands to choose how your day is going to go, it slips through your fingers. However, when you allow yourself to make plans, you often go from place to place as opportunities arise -- and sometimes are let down by the prospect of turning out more exciting than they are in actuality?
Traditional existentialists dressed in black and "mourned" the life they were shrouded in. Wondering if these societal constraints were a mere construct of a life imposed, never chosen. The existentialist chooses her way to live each day. Consequently, those most spontaneous things should be the best part of life right? I agree! Hence, I am not much of a planner these days. I enjoy the idea of waking up wondering what is going to happen next.
Reminds me of those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. Rememeber those? (woops. side note)
I hate the anticipation of a planned event that turns out the less exciting. A highly awaited kiss, a promotion at that job you slave over, the vacation that gets rained out, a stolen suitcase, a friend that gets married (then divorced), and the unhappiness that often follows when a party that was supposed to be fabulous is a sweaty soiree. (Sad, sad day when the sweaty soiree happens. Haha) In any case, I hope that not planning my vacation in its entirety, when I leave for London in two weeks will actually improve my chances of pure enjoyment. PURA VIDA.
Ciao.
Traditional existentialists dressed in black and "mourned" the life they were shrouded in. Wondering if these societal constraints were a mere construct of a life imposed, never chosen. The existentialist chooses her way to live each day. Consequently, those most spontaneous things should be the best part of life right? I agree! Hence, I am not much of a planner these days. I enjoy the idea of waking up wondering what is going to happen next.
Reminds me of those "Choose Your Own Adventure" books. Rememeber those? (woops. side note)
I hate the anticipation of a planned event that turns out the less exciting. A highly awaited kiss, a promotion at that job you slave over, the vacation that gets rained out, a stolen suitcase, a friend that gets married (then divorced), and the unhappiness that often follows when a party that was supposed to be fabulous is a sweaty soiree. (Sad, sad day when the sweaty soiree happens. Haha) In any case, I hope that not planning my vacation in its entirety, when I leave for London in two weeks will actually improve my chances of pure enjoyment. PURA VIDA.
Ciao.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Music Video: See Vesper Rock!
We just recently had a Marketing "offsite", which included different teams posing as musicians in a "Battle of the Bands"...If you want to see this funny music video, check the link below and click on the first video for the musicians (Technology Blitz), ContraBand. ContraBand Rocks!
______________________________________________
From: Thai, Doan
Subject: RE: Rally Winners and Q3 Goals
And here is this week's hotseat...
Read it quick before my team kills me for posting this! (must have Flash and speakers)
http://marketinghotseat.blogspot.com/2008/06/q3-marketing-rally-customer-and.html
______________________________________________
From: Thai, Doan
Subject: RE: Rally Winners and Q3 Goals
And here is this week's hotseat...
Read it quick before my team kills me for posting this! (must have Flash and speakers)
http://marketinghotseat.blogspot.com/2008/06/q3-marketing-rally-customer-and.html
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Addendum to Films That Make Me...
Im not sure I have quite done justice to the many amazing films I've seen over the years. A friend recently corrected me on not including some of those I've mentioned as favs and affected me truly. The following notations are in no way intended to substitute for the in-depth conversations I hope to have with all of you about whether you have or have not seen these films, how, why, and whether it was a choice you made to become a different person, know more of yourself, or just saw a bit of real life in that film...But to spur on those conversations.
I hope not to exclude more important movies that I have not mentioned here, and I am certain I have inadverdently skipped over those of significance. I have done my darndest to give it my best subjective account of films that mean something.
Films That Shocked and Surprised Me
(Because they were that amazing!)
The Hours
The Departed
Sylvia
Beyond Borders
Collateral
Memento
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Requiem For A Dream
Fight Club
The Golden Bowl
Vanilla Sky
How To Make An American Quilt
Emotional Films (Maybe not in the way you assume...)
We Don't Live Here Anymore
Snow Falling On Cedars
The Red Violin
Diarios De Motocicleta
The Golden Bowl
Great Expectations
Taking Lives
Fracture
Unfaithful
Those Classic Witty Ones
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
To Catch A Thief
The Gods Must Be Crazy
Bend It Like Beckham
10 Things I Hate About You
Robin Hood: Men In Tights
Toy Story
I hope not to exclude more important movies that I have not mentioned here, and I am certain I have inadverdently skipped over those of significance. I have done my darndest to give it my best subjective account of films that mean something.
Films That Shocked and Surprised Me
(Because they were that amazing!)
The Hours
The Departed
Sylvia
Beyond Borders
Collateral
Memento
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Requiem For A Dream
Fight Club
The Golden Bowl
Vanilla Sky
How To Make An American Quilt
Emotional Films (Maybe not in the way you assume...)
We Don't Live Here Anymore
Snow Falling On Cedars
The Red Violin
Diarios De Motocicleta
The Golden Bowl
Great Expectations
Taking Lives
Fracture
Unfaithful
Those Classic Witty Ones
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
To Catch A Thief
The Gods Must Be Crazy
Bend It Like Beckham
10 Things I Hate About You
Robin Hood: Men In Tights
Toy Story
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Films For Laughter and Tears
I was bored today and decided to think of several movies that have impacted my life is some small way. I've been discussing the films I like a lot lately with different people and it has made me start thinking. Comment if you have or have not seen and what makes you tick. Also, there are plenty of these movies that cross-over, plus it is always a work in progress. As far as television shows I like, I've only placed in one category because they are separate
Poignant Films
Gladiator
Before Sunrise/Before Sunset
Passion of The Christ
Saving Private Ryan
Dead Poets Society
Good Will Hunting
Life is Beautiful
Braveheart
The Lives of Others
The Count of Monte Cristo
Films That Make Me Think/Philosophical/
Feminist/Ethical Theorist
Igby Goes Down
Gattaca
Dot The i
The Four Feathers
Emperor's Club
Brick
Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2
Donnie Darko
Meet Joe Black
Sunshine
Films That Make Me Laugh
How To Lose Your Lover
Van Wilder
Star Wars: Episodes IV - VI
The Princess Bride
Intense Films
Mystic River
The Usual Suspects
Heat
Films About Love
Roman Holiday
Love In the Afternoon
What Dreams May Come
Closer
The Hottest State
Televison That Rocks
Damages
My So-Called Life
LOST
24
Poignant Films
Gladiator
Before Sunrise/Before Sunset
Passion of The Christ
Saving Private Ryan
Dead Poets Society
Good Will Hunting
Life is Beautiful
Braveheart
The Lives of Others
The Count of Monte Cristo
Films That Make Me Think/Philosophical/
Feminist/Ethical Theorist
Igby Goes Down
Gattaca
Dot The i
The Four Feathers
Emperor's Club
Brick
Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2
Donnie Darko
Meet Joe Black
Sunshine
Films That Make Me Laugh
How To Lose Your Lover
Van Wilder
Star Wars: Episodes IV - VI
The Princess Bride
Intense Films
Mystic River
The Usual Suspects
Heat
Films About Love
Roman Holiday
Love In the Afternoon
What Dreams May Come
Closer
The Hottest State
Televison That Rocks
Damages
My So-Called Life
LOST
24
Monday, July 7, 2008
Independence Day
The weekend was long and the sunshine was beautiful, but I am exhausted. From Thursday to Sunday, there was always something to participate in. I feel assured that I did all I could to cram as many activities into one weekend as possible. Some of the days were longer than others, but my favorite part was having Iva stay for two whole days, swap stories and get to know her. She comes highly recommended from my sister and I’m glad we spent so much time together Thursday, Friday, and Saturday morning! Phew. Lucky me. Long weekend, though. Happy Independence Day for all of my fellow American patriots. Americans really like to celebrate, for that matter, Newportians really like to celebrate. I’m surrounded by enthusiasm and fervor. Exhausting and not ready to come back to the daily grind, but here I am. Can’t wait to get some of my remaining energy out during tennis practice tonight, and followed by restful sleep, I do hope to have. I can’t wait to spend a date with my pillow on a Monday evening. (With the window open – It is so hot in my house these days!)
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Philosophers Are Weird
...and I'm one of them. We have an odd sense of humor.
Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decide to go to college. Bubba goes first, and he is advised to take maths, history and logic.
-- "What's logic?" says Bubba.
-- "Well, let me give you an example," says the professor. "Do you own a tractor?"
-- "Sure do," says Bubba.
-- "Okay. Then I assume, using logic, that you have a yard."
-- "That's real good," says Bubba, in awe.
-- "Logic also tells me that since you have a yard, you also have a house. Is that right?"
-- "Gawly!” says Bubba.
-- "And since you own a house and a house is tough to take care of by yourself, the odds are that you have a wife. Right?"
-- "Betty Mae! This is incredible!"
-- "Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume you are heterosexual. Is that right?"
-- "You are absolutely right! Why that's the most fascinatin' thang I ever heerd of. I can't wait to take this here logic class!" Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, goes back into the hallway where Cooter is waiting.
-- "So what classes are ya takin’?" says Cooter.
-- "Maths, history and logic," says Bubba.
-- "What in tarnation is logic?"
-- "Let me give you an example," says Bubba. "Do you own a tractor?"
-- "No."
-- "Then you’re gay."
***
Question: What do you get when you cross a postmodernist with a mafia boss? --- Answer: An offer you can't understand.
Two rednecks, Bubba and Cooter, decide to go to college. Bubba goes first, and he is advised to take maths, history and logic.
-- "What's logic?" says Bubba.
-- "Well, let me give you an example," says the professor. "Do you own a tractor?"
-- "Sure do," says Bubba.
-- "Okay. Then I assume, using logic, that you have a yard."
-- "That's real good," says Bubba, in awe.
-- "Logic also tells me that since you have a yard, you also have a house. Is that right?"
-- "Gawly!” says Bubba.
-- "And since you own a house and a house is tough to take care of by yourself, the odds are that you have a wife. Right?"
-- "Betty Mae! This is incredible!"
-- "Finally, since you have a wife, logically I can assume you are heterosexual. Is that right?"
-- "You are absolutely right! Why that's the most fascinatin' thang I ever heerd of. I can't wait to take this here logic class!" Bubba, proud of the new world opening up to him, goes back into the hallway where Cooter is waiting.
-- "So what classes are ya takin’?" says Cooter.
-- "Maths, history and logic," says Bubba.
-- "What in tarnation is logic?"
-- "Let me give you an example," says Bubba. "Do you own a tractor?"
-- "No."
-- "Then you’re gay."
***
Question: What do you get when you cross a postmodernist with a mafia boss? --- Answer: An offer you can't understand.
Fraternité.
"Men's stares flatter and hurt her simultaneously... eyes are always too penetrating. Hence the inconsistency that men find disconcerting... Masculine desire is as much an offence as it is a compliment." - Simone de Beauvoir
Do not require me to B-Relaxed. I will not like to be conquered. I will not be.
C’est au sein du monde donné qu’il appartient à l’homme de faire triompher le règne de la liberté; pour remporter cette suprême victoire, il est entre autres nécessaire que par-delà leurs différenciations naturelles hommes et femmes affirment sans équivoque leur fraternité.
Through their natural differentiation, men and women unequivocally affirm their brotherhood.
Do not require me to B-Relaxed. I will not like to be conquered. I will not be.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Shakespeare Hast Seen Mine Eyes
O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head
Which have no correspondence with true sight
Or, if they have, where is my judgement fled,
that censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all meris 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till Heaven clears.
O cunning Love! With tears though keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
Why is it that we miss what we should not have? I know it has been a few months now, and I'm certain I should be at a stage of "moving on" from my relationship, but I'm confused. A good friend once said of a particularly bad day during a break-up: "My heart hurt. Isn't that sad?" Here is the rub. It is okay to be sad, but if you give in to that feeling, you might believe you belong back with the familiar. And sometimes, love is not enough. But, after all: O, how can Love's eye be true. That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? I might not have rain falling down my face every day, but believe me, living without that special someone in your life is an adjustment. Maybe it is needed, maybe you are soul searching, maybe you did it for the wrong reasons, maybe you left him for noble reasons...But somehow you know it is best. And somehow it still feels wrong. And just oh, so, painful. And when you start to like someone new, you are afraid. Your heart can't take that. It also feels like you really are leaving your past behind and you might not be ready for it. I want to be ready for it. But, I'm afraid. Afraid to lose the love I once had. But, I'm also afraid of how long it will take to get over this feeling of falling. There might not be rain. But, I see myself diving down this cliff into the deep blue of the ocean, showing me my emotions really are the hidden depths of myself. Down, down, I swim, realizing there is so much inside me, but I feel like my heart hurts. And the water looks cold and menacing. I don't know what I want. I hurt. My heart hurts.
Which have no correspondence with true sight
Or, if they have, where is my judgement fled,
that censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all meris 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till Heaven clears.
O cunning Love! With tears though keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
Why is it that we miss what we should not have? I know it has been a few months now, and I'm certain I should be at a stage of "moving on" from my relationship, but I'm confused. A good friend once said of a particularly bad day during a break-up: "My heart hurt. Isn't that sad?" Here is the rub. It is okay to be sad, but if you give in to that feeling, you might believe you belong back with the familiar. And sometimes, love is not enough. But, after all: O, how can Love's eye be true. That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? I might not have rain falling down my face every day, but believe me, living without that special someone in your life is an adjustment. Maybe it is needed, maybe you are soul searching, maybe you did it for the wrong reasons, maybe you left him for noble reasons...But somehow you know it is best. And somehow it still feels wrong. And just oh, so, painful. And when you start to like someone new, you are afraid. Your heart can't take that. It also feels like you really are leaving your past behind and you might not be ready for it. I want to be ready for it. But, I'm afraid. Afraid to lose the love I once had. But, I'm also afraid of how long it will take to get over this feeling of falling. There might not be rain. But, I see myself diving down this cliff into the deep blue of the ocean, showing me my emotions really are the hidden depths of myself. Down, down, I swim, realizing there is so much inside me, but I feel like my heart hurts. And the water looks cold and menacing. I don't know what I want. I hurt. My heart hurts.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
ContraBand
Last week, our Customer & Solutions group had an offsite out of the office and we always choose a fun theme. This year, each team competed in a Battle of the Bands. We performed the "Ruff Ryders Theme" by DMX as ContraBand. Fun play on words, isn't it? I owe all cleverness to Lindsey. But I have to say, the golden cup of glory was stolen from us by a competing team called Mickey Moose. Enough, said. We definitely were the real winners. When I get video of us performing, I will definitely share that file!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Guilty Pleasures
I was asked today what things I was "into" that I wouldn't necessarily freely admit?... What an interesting question! Maybe some of you have better ones, but I found it kind of fun to decide what things are true (and somewhat funny, too!) I'd love some comments on this post. REALLY>>>>>> I want comments!
Here are a few:
-Listening to Justin Timberlake and even, Britney Spears, on occasion. Catchy music, is, well, catchy...
-Watching bad television when I'm exhausted.
-When I'm depressed, giving in to the momentary wake of emotion, just because.
-Averaging 3-4 days (Okay...Sometimes seven days...) to return calls. Sorry to all of you I have made wait!
-Showing up fashionably late to a party. (What? You've done it, too.)
-Deciding that love is hell.
-Deciding that love is fabulous.
-Having a crush on someone that is all wrong for me.
-Having a crush on someone who is hopelessly unavailable.
-Playing hard-to-get dating games. (Yes, I do it, too.)
-Enjoying a chick flick now and again (Sounds basic, but for me, it isn't because I actually have decent taste in films)
-Chocolate-covered strawberries (I don't really like chocolate except in this context)
-Ace of Base, Aqualung and other bad 90s bands, and even some bands that only use drum machines and call it music ***gasp!
-Chuckling when someone cuts me off and I find a way to "box" them in, so they can't move forward after they try to speed past a few undeserving cars on the road
-I spend money at the coffee shop like mad. Really, I do.
-Ice cream (yum!!!!!!!!!)
-Grinning when I find someone doesn't like me (and they don't have a reason, even better!)
-Watching cute footballers play The Game (Soccer, by the way, is The Game, AKA Football! in every country except the U.S. by the way)
Here are a few:
-Listening to Justin Timberlake and even, Britney Spears, on occasion. Catchy music, is, well, catchy...
-Watching bad television when I'm exhausted.
-When I'm depressed, giving in to the momentary wake of emotion, just because.
-Averaging 3-4 days (Okay...Sometimes seven days...) to return calls. Sorry to all of you I have made wait!
-Showing up fashionably late to a party. (What? You've done it, too.)
-Deciding that love is hell.
-Deciding that love is fabulous.
-Having a crush on someone that is all wrong for me.
-Having a crush on someone who is hopelessly unavailable.
-Playing hard-to-get dating games. (Yes, I do it, too.)
-Enjoying a chick flick now and again (Sounds basic, but for me, it isn't because I actually have decent taste in films)
-Chocolate-covered strawberries (I don't really like chocolate except in this context)
-Ace of Base, Aqualung and other bad 90s bands, and even some bands that only use drum machines and call it music ***gasp!
-Chuckling when someone cuts me off and I find a way to "box" them in, so they can't move forward after they try to speed past a few undeserving cars on the road
-I spend money at the coffee shop like mad. Really, I do.
-Ice cream (yum!!!!!!!!!)
-Grinning when I find someone doesn't like me (and they don't have a reason, even better!)
-Watching cute footballers play The Game (Soccer, by the way, is The Game, AKA Football! in every country except the U.S. by the way)
Thursday, June 5, 2008
I'm A Cynic
It is amazing to me how easy it is to attempt to fix one problem, and really, create another. This just goes to show how difficult it is to solve major world problems. We are using biofuels to keep the environment safer, which then competes with producing agriculture for poor people to eat or producing agriculture to make our cars runs cleaner. Ironically, we run out of resources elsewhere and must worry about the advocates hoping to begin chopping the beautiful brush in the Amazon rainforest (One of a kind world wonder, by the way. Never mind that!), which then limits the amount of oxygen continually produced into our ecosystem and keeping the equilibrium for healthy climate change. I'm not sure who is to blame for this, but the author seems to have blamed the fuel (facetious blame, I'm sure), the environmentalists point the finger at big business, and the poor people keep starving. What's new. Sardonic attitude, I know.
http://www.businessweek.com/technology/content/may2008/tc20080519_024493.htm
http://www.businessweek.com/technology/content/may2008/tc20080519_024493.htm
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I Meant...
Sorry! This is the link you should go to for listening to "We Are Rockstars" by Does It Offend You, Yeah? I hope the last web site didn't scare anyone away: http://www.zshare.net/audio/119380094aad2399/ (I am fixing the last blog post).
You Have No Idea What You Are Getting Yourself Into...
The aforementioned title is actually the album name of the band, Does It Offend You, Yeah? (Yes, it is actually a band - I love bands that have strange song titles and monikers. It makes me laugh.) I tried downloading to the blog, but it didn't work, so here's something else to access: http://www.zshare.net/audio/119380094aad2399/
I've had a string of positive, wonderful experiences. I went to the Getty Center on Sunday, and spent a day in the central garden, and in the galleries, living the Bourgeoisie life. Checked out some light and video installations - here is some Mike Kelley stuff I found amusing after seeing his work at the Getty. This only inspires me to be more daring when I see this cluster--(I think you know what I mean) kinda-art.
Unfortunately, I'm reaching a point where I only live for the weekends and am trying to be responsible, despite hearing a voice calling me to be spontaneous and enjoy this year. I have an opportunity very soon to be quite outrageous, meaning taking a leap of faith to something quite uncertain, not destructive, but perhaps less responsible, and most likely, life-changing, in essence, a leap of faith to something quite beautiful. Why not?! It would be fun and inspiring, you say...? Well, I just don't know. I'm just not sure I'm ready to scream at everyone around me, "Does It Offend You, Yeah?"
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
How To Escape Sex and The City..
Have you ever wondered what the world would be like if men refused to watch this movie? I listened to a ten-minute call-in show about men who liked or were being dragged to see Sex and the City. It was hilarious. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90950481
Listen to this!
Listen to this!
I Want To Go...
To this event,.. but I really cannot afford to do anything except make sure I don't starve on my measly salary. I went last year and it was such a blast - art, fashion, and music and dancing!!!
This event is tomorrow (Billabong's Design For Humanity Charity Event - Art/Fashion Show and the works...) -- and I don't think I can make it :) Plus, I already made plans and I don't know if he'll take me...arrrrrrrrrrrrrgh
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Untitled
It is cold, numb, darkness. The fresh, untitled face of the moon was not to be seen overhead despite the fact that her eyes were open. And, she saw nothing. Felt nothing. It is "T" minus five until disenchantment. There is no reason to fear the dark if it cannot be seen. The unknown was somehow familiar to her, for she prized the humility of not knowing. Not knowing did not mean she could not be, but that she must be. If in fact, she could not see, there would be no reason to see beyond ebony, fierce darkness. Perhaps she should feel cold, but she did not. The dark meant she was protected from what was to come.
And then...the rain came down on her face, as she lifted her arms slowly to feel the drops melt on her skin. It was mesmerizing and delightful, for these drops were a gift from the heavens in this time of uncertainty. Surely, God had cried tears of hope, as she desperately needed now more than ever. For the suffering was not enough without the chance to breathe in the scent of dewy lightness. The rain was gentle and harsh, in the most hopeful way.
And then...the rain came down on her face, as she lifted her arms slowly to feel the drops melt on her skin. It was mesmerizing and delightful, for these drops were a gift from the heavens in this time of uncertainty. Surely, God had cried tears of hope, as she desperately needed now more than ever. For the suffering was not enough without the chance to breathe in the scent of dewy lightness. The rain was gentle and harsh, in the most hopeful way.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Myanmar and The Country Formerly Known As...
More information on the destruction of the cyclone in the country formerly known as Burma is here: http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601087&sid=aKMb8IJiKHc4&refer=home
It is said that at least 130,000 people are either dead or missing and over one million people have been affected in some way by this natural disaster. France and the U.S. are major contributors of aid, and yet, the US is still waiting for visa approvals so their disaster relief organization can assess the damage. As much as I would like to see my home country help, I wonder sometimes, if we have ulterior motives to use our status as "good samaritan" to spread our influence from a military perspective or spread the "good cheer" of democracy. Not that I believe the unrest in Myanmar is acceptable and the plight of the people satisfactory. Quite the contrary. However, I also believe the United States must be careful to respect the liberty of Myanmar to decide what type of government they choose to have. When human rights violations occur, this is where the international community must step in to a certain extent. I think it is a very delicate matter, and I wonder how we can accomplish, while also respecting a nation's liberties. (Just thinking out loud.)
It is said that at least 130,000 people are either dead or missing and over one million people have been affected in some way by this natural disaster. France and the U.S. are major contributors of aid, and yet, the US is still waiting for visa approvals so their disaster relief organization can assess the damage. As much as I would like to see my home country help, I wonder sometimes, if we have ulterior motives to use our status as "good samaritan" to spread our influence from a military perspective or spread the "good cheer" of democracy. Not that I believe the unrest in Myanmar is acceptable and the plight of the people satisfactory. Quite the contrary. However, I also believe the United States must be careful to respect the liberty of Myanmar to decide what type of government they choose to have. When human rights violations occur, this is where the international community must step in to a certain extent. I think it is a very delicate matter, and I wonder how we can accomplish, while also respecting a nation's liberties. (Just thinking out loud.)
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
To Vex, To Ponder
Giorgio De Chirico is a surrealist I discovered at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art this past weekend. His painting (left) is called Les contrarietes du penseur, or The Vexations of The Thinker. I stared it while I was observing art this Sunday on the second floor and couldn't take my eyes off it. Interestingly enough, I was observing another artist in the same gallery who was inspired be De Chirico. The story goes that this man saw his oil painting in a dealer's window and immediately decided to become an artist -- his inspiration was clear -- Yves Tanguy had never held a brush prior to this. Isn't that amazing? It is clear to me why he is so inspiring.
Later surrealists such as the famous Salvador Dali were also impressed by de Chirico and it is no wonder. His painting spoke to me in such a way. First, because the title is so vivid and touches me, first as a literati and philospher, and second as an art enthusiast. The description held that the focal point is this half knight-half machine character against a brooding cityscape. Apparently, de Chrico used cityscapes of favorites in the Mediterranean he had visited, possibly such as Turin (home of a major influence, Nietzsche) and Paris, I believe. What captures me is the absurdity of this (man) who I can't quite create emotion in my mind, since I am unable to capture facial features by seeking detail int he painting. Yet, despite this, I feel drawn to the emptiness of this landscape the "thinker" is in, where it seems cold and him as representational of both man and machine gives me great pause. That the "thinker" is half-anything is interesting enough already. Does this mean he is calculative and logical versus pensive and expressive? Does he use the corner of this city as a hiding place for his thoughts - convoluted, curious, and alone? If so, I sympathize. I don't mean alone as a lonely thing necessarily, either. He seems stalwart, and strong, despite his brooding, if I can feel this from the painting. Upon reflection, I feel a bit strange because this painting affected me more than most of the other events this weekend. Perhaps because I am introspective, and it is more intuitive than even my social and affectionate side. Sometimes I feel more myself when I dig underneath and attempt to access my subconscious musings through observations. I feel more than I usually feel when I watch others on occeasion, see (really truly see) art, and just walk on a bridge or stare at the ocean. I wonder why a scene can cause me to feel or know something so lucidly somehow when I am so apart from the event. It is strange to think, but somehow true. While I don't experience everything emotional as an objective perception of reality, (this would be a little less human than I could claim) standing apart from something can make me feel really alive. And sometimes it illuminates relationships and feelings I cannot access on my own without inspiration. As a more subdued emotional being, it is as if my sensitivities are drawn from my being by everything around me. My own vexations were somehow in bright clarity when I drove home from the city....All because of a German painter, Giorgio De Chirico.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
It was a "Nilo" Day...
I was reading my "Monitor Mix" blog today and noticed something strange. Instead of Brownstein talking about music, she was talking about reality television! She is an excellent NPR Blog resource (one of my links below under "Blogging" - The Soundtrack of My Dreams) for lyrics, genres, new stuff, and the occasional humorous comment about life in general, but today it was The Bachelor that caught my eye. She interviewed a producer, anonymously, and even thought it confirmed what I already knew, I was fasinated by it. You might be, as well. The most disturbing thing is that I enjoyed reading about the show. My roommate, Nilo, likes to watch the most recent one, London Calling, and I've been sucked in to watch (2) episodes at some point last month. It strikes me as odd that there are people who don't mind being watched on-camera seeking the love of their life. Yea. Right. Please make sure to note the comment by one of the interview answers that contestants are not on the show for purely innocent reasons. No kidding. I hate the paradox of reality telivision - the name itself is a lie.
http://www.npr.org/blogs/monitormix/2008/04/the_bachelor_1.html
http://www.npr.org/blogs/monitormix/2008/04/the_bachelor_1.html
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Israel's 60th Anniversary
Today is Israel's 60th anniversary and I wonder, how do Israels feel about this celebration? How do Palestinians feel? It reminds me of so many battles - the struggle between the Southerners and the Union toops during the American civil war, the battle for independence by so many small African countries trying to finally stake their claim after years as European colonies. Who are these people that suffer for that small bit of independence they've been yearning after? For the small piece of land they want to say they belong to? It seems to put things into perspective for me. Who is to say the U.S. deserved to win the war? What if we were just another dot on the map and controlled even today by Great Britain. This, at least, causes me to sympathize with the Palestinians and the Israeli Peoples, searching for a place to call home and will never be completely safe until the ethnic battle is settled and there is peace. And I'm not sure how excited I feel that the U.S. is taking side when there are obvious human atrocities committed on both sides of this battlefield.
Israel's 60thAP is reporting: "President Bush on Wednesday opened a celebratory visit to Israel ... 'We consider the Holy Land a very special place, and we consider the Israeli people our close friends,' Bush said. ... The Palestinians are marking the 60th anniversary of the 'nakba,' or catastrophe..."ALICE ROTHCHILD, dkar@rcn.com, http://alicerothchild.com Currently in Washington, D.C., Rothchild is author of the new book "Broken Promises, Broken Dreams: Stories of Jewish and Palestinian Trauma and Resilience." She is active with Jewish Voice for Peace. Her piece "The Other Side of Israel's Birth" appears in today's Baltimore Sun: "As Israel celebrates its 60th anniversary ... I wonder what would happen if this tragedy, al Nakba, were to be publicly recognized alongside the Israeli victory. Perhaps taking the risk of acknowledging the pain of the 'other' and seeing 'the enemy' as a real person is how peace is ultimately made." http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/opinion/oped/bal-op.nakba14may14,0,6220379.story Rothchild said today: "The stance of the major party presidential candidates is a testament to how powerful the pro-Israeli lobby is."
SALMAN ABU SITTA, info@plands.org, http://www.plands.orgSAMAR ASSAD, sassad@palestinecenter.org, http://palestinecenter.org Founder and president of the Palestine Land Society based in London, Salman Abu Sitta is editor of "The Atlas of Palestine." He will be arriving in the U.S. on Wednesday evening. He said today: "The 60th anniversary of al Nakba -- that is, the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians -- and the creation of Israel on the ruins of Palestine shows that wars, occupation, brutal force and racist policies will not bring peace to the Holy Land. It is only justice based on international law that will bring it. That can be achieved by reversing ethnic cleansing and allowing the Palestinian refugees to return home. There is no legal or practical reason to prevent that except Israel's intransigence." Abu Sitta will speak at the Palestine Center in Washington, D.C. on Thursday at noon. Assad is executive director of the Palestine Center.
Israel's 60thAP is reporting: "President Bush on Wednesday opened a celebratory visit to Israel ... 'We consider the Holy Land a very special place, and we consider the Israeli people our close friends,' Bush said. ... The Palestinians are marking the 60th anniversary of the 'nakba,' or catastrophe..."ALICE ROTHCHILD, dkar@rcn.com, http://alicerothchild.com Currently in Washington, D.C., Rothchild is author of the new book "Broken Promises, Broken Dreams: Stories of Jewish and Palestinian Trauma and Resilience." She is active with Jewish Voice for Peace. Her piece "The Other Side of Israel's Birth" appears in today's Baltimore Sun: "As Israel celebrates its 60th anniversary ... I wonder what would happen if this tragedy, al Nakba, were to be publicly recognized alongside the Israeli victory. Perhaps taking the risk of acknowledging the pain of the 'other' and seeing 'the enemy' as a real person is how peace is ultimately made." http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/opinion/oped/bal-op.nakba14may14,0,6220379.story Rothchild said today: "The stance of the major party presidential candidates is a testament to how powerful the pro-Israeli lobby is."
SALMAN ABU SITTA, info@plands.org, http://www.plands.orgSAMAR ASSAD, sassad@palestinecenter.org, http://palestinecenter.org Founder and president of the Palestine Land Society based in London, Salman Abu Sitta is editor of "The Atlas of Palestine." He will be arriving in the U.S. on Wednesday evening. He said today: "The 60th anniversary of al Nakba -- that is, the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians -- and the creation of Israel on the ruins of Palestine shows that wars, occupation, brutal force and racist policies will not bring peace to the Holy Land. It is only justice based on international law that will bring it. That can be achieved by reversing ethnic cleansing and allowing the Palestinian refugees to return home. There is no legal or practical reason to prevent that except Israel's intransigence." Abu Sitta will speak at the Palestine Center in Washington, D.C. on Thursday at noon. Assad is executive director of the Palestine Center.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Devestation in Burma
How would you feel if your family was trapped in the middle of a land torn apart by a cyclone and you didn't know if they were alive or dead? Or, if help would even come? This is what is happening to many families in Rangoon. A cyclone has hit the area and the government will not release how many are already dead and the number of injured. Aid is having trouble even getting to the places it needs to, and in some cases, the problem is that aid organizations and workers are being sent to any destination, which is easy to get to. Some places may be not be reached for days or longer. Read more about it here. It is horrible to think some who may be alive may not live to survive because we cannot reach the people in time with food and medicine. Prayers are certainly needed.
http://www.theworld.org/?q=node/17797
http://www.theworld.org/?q=node/17797
Birthday Blog --If I'm Really 27, How Come the Starbucks Guy...
--If I'm Really 27, How Come the Starbucks Guy... Says I remind him of his sister's best friend (Mind you - when she was in High School) . I know I should probably be happy. After all, who honestly thinks I look my age these days? Not many people I know --Thankfully, I act my age some of the time. I better not take that too seriously, either. But, is it really a compliment to be that young? After all, if I want to pursue law, I wonder if this 5'2" figure will command any sort of presence when negotiating or demanding documents or presence in a courtroom. It doesn't help that I'm reminded of my height and other things by my family constantly -- My sisters are much taller than me and remind me all the time what it is like to be a kid. They just love to be corny. Would you have guessed by the strange picture of the three of us above? Couldn't tell, right? I'm sure it is a blessing to be around such a "y0ung" group -- all of the time. It will prolong getting old and staying young in my heart. What a cliche!
Monday, May 12, 2008
Add This To Your Life
Melancholy as is. If there was a mix tape with my name on it for today's Monday, the title would be "Dreary Colour." Clouds make me angry. It might not be the clouds. Nothing Too Good There...
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Intensity of Perception
pSuch a long day. Again -- someone dropped the ball and it appeared like I didn't cover all the details for a project I was working on. Can I just get it right the first time? Honestly, I don't know. The thing that concerns me most of all about today is a dear friend, struggling with the "appearance" of something as well. It seemed to highlight my even feelings about what it seems is happening, and what is. If it feels like the truth you once grasped is slipping through your fingers...The fact that you are in love, or maybe you have a strong tennis forehand, or a ballet pirouette mastered, and then one day, it seems like the thing you once were so sure of...You're not so certain any longer. It appears that you're in love, it may appear that you still know how to "bend" the soccer ball toward the goal, hit a strong forehand cross-court, but when it comes down to it, you lack the fire or the intensity to really pull it off as a truth. The perception is not the reality. As I finish this, it doesn't feel like I'm making any sense, but I'm more and more grasping just how finite our feelings or images of truth is. I think one's intentions are more important (i.e. If you have the motivation to "bend" the soccer ball, you can do it nine times out of ten --granted you are a decent soccer player. But -- If you don't have the motivation to "bend", you will not "bend" the soccer ball into the goal-- despite the fact that we've noted you are a decent soccer player.)
Sigh. At least I understand what I'm talking about. (Ask me some other time. I'm very tired right now.)
Sigh. At least I understand what I'm talking about. (Ask me some other time. I'm very tired right now.)
Monday, May 5, 2008
Tennis & Hulabaloo at The Office
Lots to do. Lots to do. So little time to do it in. I skipped lunch so I'd have enough time to go home and relax perhaps before tennis practice today. No can do. Our event is on Wednesday (two-day reseller/customer event) and I have to still create a flight manifest for all our arriving customers, make an evaluation and print copies for our event, scan any correspondence from our vendors to ensure there are no catastrophies I can avoid before the trip, etc. Sometimes I wish my manager would step in a little, but then again, I want this. I want to do the managing of this new campaign on my own (This marketing jargon may have you wimpering at your home computer --why, oh why must she use those terms -- what on Earth is she talking about?!) . What I hate most is that she refuses to step in help when she says she's going to. Ah, the joy of it all. Heigh-ho, It is off to practice I go. finally. End.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I don't like cake...
But I do love being happy and I expect to have a good birthday, despite the fact that a lot of things are going wrong. Let me know if you want to hang out with me next Friday for my birthday...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Postscript -- I do not have a cell phone right now.
The last time I had the phone was on my final flight home from Atlanta to John Wayne airport. Since Saturday night, I've had trouble getting all my messages, I had no reception in D.C. or New York, so maybe the phone was dying anyways. Hrrmph. So if you're reading this, you can leave a voicemail, since I can check VM, but no text messages please! Hopefully, Delta airlines will return by mail...Hope. Hope.
New York....New Yoooorrrk.
I just came back from a weekend in New York and although things didn't work out how it had planned, I'm really glad I went. just need to ensure I come back. NYU was a beautiful school, so big, and so spread out, which was actually fun because I saw all kinds of fun things over blocks and blocks. The bohemian chic sandals and floral skirts met the tight jeans and indie-kid hair cuts of the boys and girls walking to classes. It was the last day of law school sessions and so I didn’t get to sit in on any classes, but I saw students in their element, studying in the library, visited a few floors in both Vanderbilt Hall and the second Hall of NYU for law school classes. Learned how to finance my education by conserving money from the director of student financial aid with an impromptu appointment. How lucky am I!!! I still don't really have any pictures from this lovely trip, but I pulled this one out from a happy hour I stopped by a few weeks ago for a Marketing Manager who recently quit. This is the happy look I get when I'm around great company, and or a location that inspires me to do more for the world. So, I figured it would be appropriate for this posting. After all - I had it all this weekend. Political conversation with intelligent friends, a reunion with old high school buddies, latin dancing, law school, a big city, a little rain, a little sunshine, people-observations of the best kind, jumbo cheese pizza with garlic, book shopping at Shakespeare & Co...Does it get better? A few vodka-red bulls and some adventure later...I had a blast. And some of the best memories I have from these just three days are all in my head. Those smiles aren't captured on film. 35mm or otherwise. Because some of the debacle is just living.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
To See The Beauty In A Woman
Listened to an interview today about Uma Thurman and her role on several different movies from "Pulp Fiction" to a new one called "The Life Before Her Eyes"...about a tortured mother and wife, who is dealing with a traumatic experience from her high school observance of a shooting. It is so fascinating to hear this beautiful woman talk about how insecure and fragile she was as an early actress, even doubting her level of attractiveness. She has an intelligent father, a model mother, and started as a model following her mother, before her acting career, but somehow felt she was actually ugly. I know it is tempting to believe it is all a bunch of B.S., but Uma hardly ever shows up in the limelight and I'm truly tempted to believer she is being honest in this interview. I always respect actors/actresses who keep themselves away from the tabloids and am more willing to think there words are true, and not contrived in need of more attention and glamour.
"Uma Thurman finds it odd how she is hailed as a Hollywood sex symbol - because she was so ugly as a child. The 'Kill Bill' beauty insists she was an ugly duckling growing up, claiming her features were so strange it looked as if they were "taped to the side" of her head. And the 37-year-old former model didn't expect big shot movie producers to come flocking due to her beauty, so she concentrated on being a high-school geek instead."
Isn't that lovely? A high school geek. She is a natural, after all. Her father is a leader in Indo-/Tibetan Buddhist studies at Columbia University, which would make her take some of his seeds of growth as a bookworm. It seems apparent to me the influence, especially since seeing the eastern philosophical roots of "Kill Bill". She probably was attracted to the concept at least somewhat from this influence. If you are reading this and know even a little bit about me, you'll be aware of my own bookwormish roots --Again, Daddy. He taught me to question everything and ask lots of questions, be informed and take notes about the world around me. While we still don't agree on a lot of things, he always inspires me, even to this day.
In the meantime, here's the movie, about a complex psychologically disturbed woman, who is still dealing with a violent incident fifteen years later. Her movie is here at this link, if you want to look at the trailer, http://www.lifebeforehereyes.com ...This interview from Uma was of particular interest not only because of "The Life Before Her Eyes" and "Kill Bill" (Yes, I love this movie, and yes, that is why I am referred to as "Kiddo" by some people... And yes, I think it is a fascinating feminst portrayl...) but even because of "Pulp Fiction", which is quite crass for my style, but has some great moments in filmmaking. Tarantino is incredibly stylistic and somehow places his stamp on films so distinctly, you have to stand up and cheer. Words do not create a large enough essence for this master. Scorsese and Allen are maybe the only other directors I appreciate in a similar sense. The individuality which is eeked from the silver screen is untouchable.
If have time, hear the interview by going to the link below. I really enjoyed it! (40 minutes long)
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=89623831&ft=1&f=1008
"Uma Thurman finds it odd how she is hailed as a Hollywood sex symbol - because she was so ugly as a child. The 'Kill Bill' beauty insists she was an ugly duckling growing up, claiming her features were so strange it looked as if they were "taped to the side" of her head. And the 37-year-old former model didn't expect big shot movie producers to come flocking due to her beauty, so she concentrated on being a high-school geek instead."
Isn't that lovely? A high school geek. She is a natural, after all. Her father is a leader in Indo-/Tibetan Buddhist studies at Columbia University, which would make her take some of his seeds of growth as a bookworm. It seems apparent to me the influence, especially since seeing the eastern philosophical roots of "Kill Bill". She probably was attracted to the concept at least somewhat from this influence. If you are reading this and know even a little bit about me, you'll be aware of my own bookwormish roots --Again, Daddy. He taught me to question everything and ask lots of questions, be informed and take notes about the world around me. While we still don't agree on a lot of things, he always inspires me, even to this day.
In the meantime, here's the movie, about a complex psychologically disturbed woman, who is still dealing with a violent incident fifteen years later. Her movie is here at this link, if you want to look at the trailer, http://www.lifebeforehereyes.com ...This interview from Uma was of particular interest not only because of "The Life Before Her Eyes" and "Kill Bill" (Yes, I love this movie, and yes, that is why I am referred to as "Kiddo" by some people... And yes, I think it is a fascinating feminst portrayl...) but even because of "Pulp Fiction", which is quite crass for my style, but has some great moments in filmmaking. Tarantino is incredibly stylistic and somehow places his stamp on films so distinctly, you have to stand up and cheer. Words do not create a large enough essence for this master. Scorsese and Allen are maybe the only other directors I appreciate in a similar sense. The individuality which is eeked from the silver screen is untouchable.
If have time, hear the interview by going to the link below. I really enjoyed it! (40 minutes long)
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=89623831&ft=1&f=1008
Law School Blogs...
If you want to know what someone besides myself thinks about the best law schools to go to-- here's my link where I've been reading up on it.
http://taxprof.typepad.com/taxprof_blog/2008/04/henderson-morri.html
http://taxprof.typepad.com/taxprof_blog/2008/04/henderson-morri.html
Monday, April 14, 2008
Stuffed? Then Listen To This
Today is not a lazy day. Oh, how I wish it were. Somehow I am coping with this rather upsetting fact, although my restlessness will soon be encapsulated by a tennis ball hurled across the court by my needs-to-be-restrung racket later today after 5:00pm. I cannot really feel angry, but rather numb at my restlessness. Last week was a hard one with leering customers at a work conference who I was relegated to entertaining for almost three days. Whew. What a chore. Thankfully, there were quite a few bright spots, as this conference turned to be a huge success and my hard work was part of the reason for its success. We had some highly intelligent and charming vendor representatives who presented great marketing and sales stories, impressing many in our audience. But, enough about work.
Although, I must admit, it is more and more difficult to think about concentration in business when the weather is so unbelievably beautiful. So, back to the restlessness at work, which leads me to an interesting discovery. My favorite public radio station was discussing the shortage of food the other day and I was floored to realize what a huge distribution problem we have in India. Not only is this food shortage disturbing this growing emerging market, but is also affecting Haiti. The man I heard the other day on the radio, Raj Patel, author of a new book, Stuffed and Starved, also showed up in my email updates from the Institute of Public Accuracy today, a liberal think tank I don't always agree with, but who bring up interesting points I find compelled to read more on. Read on about the current status of this problem below. I find this element of the problem troubling: "First, there has always been a sudden and rapid discrepancy between what people expect to be able to eat, and what they can actually feed their families." This made me consider just how often I buy a half gallon of milk and half the carton goes to waste because I forget to eat cereal often enough in the morning to finish. Or, that the blueberries in my fridge which are scrumptious antioxidants, grow mold because I snacked on animal crackers and not fruit the other day. There is the occasional choice of not buying enough groceries and sneaking a pack of tacos for dinner because I start to get the classic "hunger headache." I swear I must be hypoglycemic! Regardless of those negative test results, I almost faint when I don't have something to eat on time. Seriously! In any case, it makes me sad to think there are people hurtling rice at the distribution facilities in Haiti or long lines for a pound of rice in India because people have been buying too much rice at a time and hoarding to themselves, so the poor can't have enough food at the end of the day. I wish I could give them my blueberries before they go bad. Then, maybe the antioxidant power would let them live longer and have more energy. Some days I just wish I could help. And I feel helpless.
RAJ PATEL, [currently in NYC] rajeevcpatel@gmail.com, http://www.rajpatel.org
Author of the just-released book "Stuffed and Starved: The
Hidden Battle for the World Food System," Patel said today: "What's
happening in Haiti is an augury to the rest of the developing world.
Haiti is the poster child of an economy that liberalized its
agricultural economy and removed the social safety nets for the poor,
despite the protests of the majority of its people. Food riots
throughout history have happened when two conditions have been
fulfilled. First, there has always been a sudden and rapid discrepancy
between what people expect to be able to eat, and what they can actually
feed their families. The price shocks around the world have introduced
this discrepancy, and the politics that might have dampened them --
grain reserves, tariffs, support for sustainable farmers -- have been
eroded by modern development policies.
"But the second feature of food riots in history is that riots
happen when there are no other ways of making powerful people listen.
Like many other countries in the developing world, Haiti has been forced
to liberalize its economy despite popular opposition -- in other words,
modern development policy has been forced to be anti-democratic. And
since there has been no effective way for the people to hold their
leaders accountable, we're seeing riots not just in Haiti, but in places
as diverse as Mexico, India, Egypt, Senegal and even Italy. It's
something to expect to see with increasing frequency, until governments
realize that food isn't a mere commodity, it's a human right."
Although, I must admit, it is more and more difficult to think about concentration in business when the weather is so unbelievably beautiful. So, back to the restlessness at work, which leads me to an interesting discovery. My favorite public radio station was discussing the shortage of food the other day and I was floored to realize what a huge distribution problem we have in India. Not only is this food shortage disturbing this growing emerging market, but is also affecting Haiti. The man I heard the other day on the radio, Raj Patel, author of a new book, Stuffed and Starved, also showed up in my email updates from the Institute of Public Accuracy today, a liberal think tank I don't always agree with, but who bring up interesting points I find compelled to read more on. Read on about the current status of this problem below. I find this element of the problem troubling: "First, there has always been a sudden and rapid discrepancy between what people expect to be able to eat, and what they can actually feed their families." This made me consider just how often I buy a half gallon of milk and half the carton goes to waste because I forget to eat cereal often enough in the morning to finish. Or, that the blueberries in my fridge which are scrumptious antioxidants, grow mold because I snacked on animal crackers and not fruit the other day. There is the occasional choice of not buying enough groceries and sneaking a pack of tacos for dinner because I start to get the classic "hunger headache." I swear I must be hypoglycemic! Regardless of those negative test results, I almost faint when I don't have something to eat on time. Seriously! In any case, it makes me sad to think there are people hurtling rice at the distribution facilities in Haiti or long lines for a pound of rice in India because people have been buying too much rice at a time and hoarding to themselves, so the poor can't have enough food at the end of the day. I wish I could give them my blueberries before they go bad. Then, maybe the antioxidant power would let them live longer and have more energy. Some days I just wish I could help. And I feel helpless.
RAJ PATEL, [currently in NYC] rajeevcpatel@gmail.com, http://www.rajpatel.org
Author of the just-released book "Stuffed and Starved: The
Hidden Battle for the World Food System," Patel said today: "What's
happening in Haiti is an augury to the rest of the developing world.
Haiti is the poster child of an economy that liberalized its
agricultural economy and removed the social safety nets for the poor,
despite the protests of the majority of its people. Food riots
throughout history have happened when two conditions have been
fulfilled. First, there has always been a sudden and rapid discrepancy
between what people expect to be able to eat, and what they can actually
feed their families. The price shocks around the world have introduced
this discrepancy, and the politics that might have dampened them --
grain reserves, tariffs, support for sustainable farmers -- have been
eroded by modern development policies.
"But the second feature of food riots in history is that riots
happen when there are no other ways of making powerful people listen.
Like many other countries in the developing world, Haiti has been forced
to liberalize its economy despite popular opposition -- in other words,
modern development policy has been forced to be anti-democratic. And
since there has been no effective way for the people to hold their
leaders accountable, we're seeing riots not just in Haiti, but in places
as diverse as Mexico, India, Egypt, Senegal and even Italy. It's
something to expect to see with increasing frequency, until governments
realize that food isn't a mere commodity, it's a human right."
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Exasperation
This is how I'm feeling today. Frustrated. Wishing I was at home watching Henry James' novels on film. Ugh. I'm so done with today. But here I am...trying to finish recruitment for two events, updating a website, try to get a schedule for media we have to come up with, trying not to be at my wit's end. After all, it isn't just for another person to make you feel the way you feel. It is your responsibility to control emotions. Thankfully, yesterday was the day I felt true frustration, and today is really just the "my cup overfloweth with all thing not lovely" Thursday - vibrations from yesterday's "earthquake". I fell asleep watching the Discovery Channel probably around 9:00pm last night. (I'm sure this was a subconscious shutdown - Warning, Warning, Brain's impending stress will cause early Vesper shut down...Warning, Warning...Emergency sleep deprivation and stress aleviation to commence at 2100.... Quite comical, actually. Considering the following -- That I woke up at 3:45am and tossed/turned until 7:30am when I finally righted myself up and decided to get ready. Apparently, once my body achieves approximately seven hours of sleep, I'm supposed to awaken. Why, oh why, you may ask, is the reason for my overly dramatic statements. The non-compelling sighs and cries for attention (This blog is my pitiful attempt) arises from a certain person in the office with whom I see every day at the office, work with on too many projects,...and who pretends to care about my life, although truly does not. It disgusts me. I suppose if this particular person stopped pretending and/or decided to show their apathy in true form, I might find them callous and hardened, but it does seem worse when someone asks if you are "doing alright", when really they are trying to dig up reasons to criticize your work and then feign innocent concern. I hate liars. But...perhaps it would be liberating to have the truth out in the open. Then, perhaps I might feel like this person. 
Quite satisfied with myself and perhaps in the knowledge that certain liars might actually be dually noted as charlatans or otherwise by other perceptive persons (besides myself). But, as this is not the case, I feel compelled to keep my mouth shut and allow myself a wry smile when she says foolish things in front of others. I will remain silent and do my job well. This is the best answer to her games.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Opressed Women, Disease, & Real Life
It is strange to consider that life is so short, when viewed in the context of all the unexpected events that occur around you. I've recently discovered a co-worker I like very much has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He's a young, athletic, and healthy man over 30 with two children, a good job, and a wife. (I've spent some time with both of them volunteering in Costa Mesa.) You would never know to look at him, but he had an attack of the central nervous system and it appears that the doctor diagnosed his health in order that he could come back to work full-time. However, he probably has the following diagnosis, which means it can come back at any time, even if it isn't audacious enough to show symptoms right now. (All the other possible MS diagnoses are worse than the below.)
Relapsing-Remitting MS
People with this type of MS experience clearly defined attacks of worsening neurologic function. These attacks—which are called relapses, flare-ups, or exacerbations —are followed by partial or complete recovery periods (remissions), during which no disease progression occurs. Approximately 85% of people are initially diagnosed with relapsing-remitting MS.
Why does this happen? Could be genetic. Could be linked to lots of things. According to the Multiple Sclerosis Society, this is thought to be an autoimmune disease. Our body's own immune system attacks the tissue surrounding the nerve fibers in the central nervous system. This myelin attacked forms scar tissue (sclerosis), which distorts nerve impulses traveling to/from the brain. Apparently, this forms several different symptions. In the case of my friend, he went blind in one of his eyes. Fortunately, his eye restored 90-95% of its sight in the last month, and he has come back to work another 40-hour work week, as before. It is odd to think how the symptoms vary so dramatically for those diagnosed. Apparently, MS is diagnosed, as in other autoimmune diseases, significantly more often(at least 2-3 times) in women than men. The body's "abnormal" response, to attack our central nervous system doesn't even have a specific reason! At least epidimiologists and researchers haven't discovered it yet.
Why? Oh, why. It isn't just my friend. It is over 2 million people in the world diagnosed with this disease alone, and besides disease, there are so many other things in this world that are just unjust. Why does this happen to a good man? Why does this happen to any of us? I've started to follow blogs in Saudi Arabia, lately, in a recent discovery in my ongoing obsession about the international opression of peoples, especially women. These men and women are speaking up about how they feel about the dress standards, the options for democracy, cultural standards, religion and how it applies to the politics. Reading about it (and I've only just begun) opens my eyes to what the world is really like. And makes me wonder just how selfish we really are (and probably unaware, as well)..because we are so concerned with our own insignificant lives. Not to say that each individual isn't truly significant in her own way, but that in the scope of things, all are significant as a whole, and we can be significant if we care enough to do what we can as an individual for the whole. Even being aware, makes us less unaware, right? And not so oblivious and naive. At least - this is where I'm going to start.
Saudi Blogs:
http://saudistepfordwife.blogspot.com/
http://saudijeans.org/
Multiple Sclerosis: http://cas.nationalmssociety.org/site/PageServer?pagename=CAS_donate_homepage
Relapsing-Remitting MS
People with this type of MS experience clearly defined attacks of worsening neurologic function. These attacks—which are called relapses, flare-ups, or exacerbations —are followed by partial or complete recovery periods (remissions), during which no disease progression occurs. Approximately 85% of people are initially diagnosed with relapsing-remitting MS.
Why does this happen? Could be genetic. Could be linked to lots of things. According to the Multiple Sclerosis Society, this is thought to be an autoimmune disease. Our body's own immune system attacks the tissue surrounding the nerve fibers in the central nervous system. This myelin attacked forms scar tissue (sclerosis), which distorts nerve impulses traveling to/from the brain. Apparently, this forms several different symptions. In the case of my friend, he went blind in one of his eyes. Fortunately, his eye restored 90-95% of its sight in the last month, and he has come back to work another 40-hour work week, as before. It is odd to think how the symptoms vary so dramatically for those diagnosed. Apparently, MS is diagnosed, as in other autoimmune diseases, significantly more often(at least 2-3 times) in women than men. The body's "abnormal" response, to attack our central nervous system doesn't even have a specific reason! At least epidimiologists and researchers haven't discovered it yet.
Why? Oh, why. It isn't just my friend. It is over 2 million people in the world diagnosed with this disease alone, and besides disease, there are so many other things in this world that are just unjust. Why does this happen to a good man? Why does this happen to any of us? I've started to follow blogs in Saudi Arabia, lately, in a recent discovery in my ongoing obsession about the international opression of peoples, especially women. These men and women are speaking up about how they feel about the dress standards, the options for democracy, cultural standards, religion and how it applies to the politics. Reading about it (and I've only just begun) opens my eyes to what the world is really like. And makes me wonder just how selfish we really are (and probably unaware, as well)..because we are so concerned with our own insignificant lives. Not to say that each individual isn't truly significant in her own way, but that in the scope of things, all are significant as a whole, and we can be significant if we care enough to do what we can as an individual for the whole. Even being aware, makes us less unaware, right? And not so oblivious and naive. At least - this is where I'm going to start.
Saudi Blogs:
http://saudistepfordwife.blogspot.com/
http://saudijeans.org/
Multiple Sclerosis: http://cas.nationalmssociety.org/site/PageServer?pagename=CAS_donate_homepage
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Strange Dreams Happen
Strange dreams happen. I only say this because they happen to me, of course. It is like rain drops hitting the ground of my brain. Plop, plop, they go, splashing around and with no particular pattern. So the dreams that arise pull from strands of thought, or drawers of thought patterns:- a game of tennis
- a stream of consciousness
- my boyfriend
- me
Last night I dreamt I was walking amongst different tennis courts at a park. David is beside me, and we come across two men arguing about their wives and the relationships they have with each. The men bring me into the conversation and while introducing myself, I discover that not only do they insist their names are female, but they have the same name: Christy. It gets better - the names not only indicate gender, but identity. Somehow I see two men in front of me, but they are the same person, struggling with some serious psychological issues ( or at least the dream causes me to think this, but I'm certain the issue is not about their psychological issues, but more about some stream of consciousness philosophy I've been musing over lately). Where do these ideas come from?
If I'm snowboarding one weekend, I dream of white snowflakes and sailing down the mountain in Switzerland the next day. If I am joining a tennis league (which I am), my sleep-induced narratives include men having an argument on the court...and somehow I draw completely unrelated pieces of myself to these dreams. How strange! I think I might be too stressed these days. Instead of waking up groggily wondering how I have come up with these whimsical tales, and heading off to work with it plaguing my day, It might be time for a vacation...soon.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I <3 Family
I find that family is wonderful. Between food and fun, there’s no better thing than family. And you know what else? My roommate, Nilo is quickly becoming a part of that, too. I feel so lucky, lately. Which is great, because honestly, I’ve been in a state of non-happy the last seven days. It isn’t so much that I’m unhappy, but I’ve been “without”, lately, pondering why things are so stressful. The hardest thing about it is that I can’t focus on my law school prep studies when I feel so… so…blah.
The reason I can feel like myself (maybe the only reason) is that my wonderful cousin, Nikki, was here to visit. I won’t say “best friend” since we just had this discussion that one can never just have one best friend, (and I agree) but she is truly one of the most inspiring people to be around because she’s so pure. And when I’m around her, I find it easy to express my emotions, my fears, and this is hard for me, on most other occasions. Very few allow me to relax and just speak plainly. Maybe because she's a writer. Maybe because she's so sweet. But probably because she understands me. She's an old soul. She just makes me smile.
The reason I can feel like myself (maybe the only reason) is that my wonderful cousin, Nikki, was here to visit. I won’t say “best friend” since we just had this discussion that one can never just have one best friend, (and I agree) but she is truly one of the most inspiring people to be around because she’s so pure. And when I’m around her, I find it easy to express my emotions, my fears, and this is hard for me, on most other occasions. Very few allow me to relax and just speak plainly. Maybe because she's a writer. Maybe because she's so sweet. But probably because she understands me. She's an old soul. She just makes me smile. Saturday, March 15, 2008
The Origination of...
Vesper.
Wikipedia describes the name as a greek god from mythology also known as "Hesperos".
In Greek mythology, Hesperos (Greek Ἓσπερος (The Evening Star), sometimes latinized as Hesperus) and (H)eosphoros (Morning Star) latinized as Eosphorus (see Lucifer) are sons of the dawn goddess Eos (Roman Aurora). Hesperus' father was Cephalus, a mortal, while Eosphoros' was the star god Astraios. Hesperos Roman equivalent was Vesper. (cf. "west", direction of sunset/dusk/evening star and "east", direction of morning star/dawn/sunrise). Venus shines very bright because its dense atmosphere of carbon dioxide reflects the sunlight extremely well.
She was also immortalized as James Bond's companion on assignment in Casino Royale and I love the role she plays - wearing a dark trench coat and pantsuit the first time she meets him with an austere eye. In studying feminism in film and culture, I find this character so interesting for a Bond Girl. Indeed, she still has some of the similar traits of Girls of old, good looks and strong temperament, but she is unique. Her face appeals to me in its attraction as not a mere facade, but genuine beauty. There's something about this face and about her androgyngy that truly suits her. And perhaps it is this, complimented by her intelligence that leads me to find myself enveloped in a good sense of this Vesper, and not so unlike the Roman god, shines. She is also a complex character for good and bad, which is so intriguing.
Vesper Lynd is a pun on West Berlin. Like her namesake, the Cold War-era city of Berlin, Vesper's loyalties are split down the middle. Fleming created a cocktail recipe in the novel that Bond names after Vesper.
Not to say that I would like to put on the complete "dress" of a Vesper, with split loyalties, but I find my life neatly compartmentalized at times, through my more calculative way of dividing my emotions and enjoying come what may. Devil-may-care attitude is for the frivolous, which I would not say of myself, although I have some aspects of my personality, which surprise me sometimes. There is a window, at times, which shows me things I do and do not like. Postscript: I do like good surprises.
Wikipedia describes the name as a greek god from mythology also known as "Hesperos".
In Greek mythology, Hesperos (Greek Ἓσπερος (The Evening Star), sometimes latinized as Hesperus) and (H)eosphoros (Morning Star) latinized as Eosphorus (see Lucifer) are sons of the dawn goddess Eos (Roman Aurora). Hesperus' father was Cephalus, a mortal, while Eosphoros' was the star god Astraios. Hesperos Roman equivalent was Vesper. (cf. "west", direction of sunset/dusk/evening star and "east", direction of morning star/dawn/sunrise). Venus shines very bright because its dense atmosphere of carbon dioxide reflects the sunlight extremely well.
She was also immortalized as James Bond's companion on assignment in Casino Royale and I love the role she plays - wearing a dark trench coat and pantsuit the first time she meets him with an austere eye. In studying feminism in film and culture, I find this character so interesting for a Bond Girl. Indeed, she still has some of the similar traits of Girls of old, good looks and strong temperament, but she is unique. Her face appeals to me in its attraction as not a mere facade, but genuine beauty. There's something about this face and about her androgyngy that truly suits her. And perhaps it is this, complimented by her intelligence that leads me to find myself enveloped in a good sense of this Vesper, and not so unlike the Roman god, shines. She is also a complex character for good and bad, which is so intriguing.
Vesper Lynd is a pun on West Berlin. Like her namesake, the Cold War-era city of Berlin, Vesper's loyalties are split down the middle. Fleming created a cocktail recipe in the novel that Bond names after Vesper.
Not to say that I would like to put on the complete "dress" of a Vesper, with split loyalties, but I find my life neatly compartmentalized at times, through my more calculative way of dividing my emotions and enjoying come what may. Devil-may-care attitude is for the frivolous, which I would not say of myself, although I have some aspects of my personality, which surprise me sometimes. There is a window, at times, which shows me things I do and do not like. Postscript: I do like good surprises.
Friday, March 14, 2008
We're taking the day off early today at work, and it is unusual, so unusual in fact, that it actually feels a bit, may I say the word, "sinful"? Odd choice, I know, but the truth of the matter is that I have inherited some sort of worker-bee (Beebe) mentality, which provokes me to try hard, work hard, sleep less, and balance way too many tasks to handle a healthy state some of the time. So -- to reward our Marketing team at work for Q4 earnings by giving us a half-day off seems unreal. Nonetheless, truth is stranger than fiction. And, so, I will gladly take a day off for an afternoon at the movies, but I will feel a little bit unwashed, a bit like the masses who are in the "unemployment" category - a little unproductive, but perhaps a bit happier.
Quarter is Worth 1/4th A Century's Wisdom
It is quite akward the first time one begins a new project...and so I feel the same about this blog. I mainly wanted a landing page for my own thoughts as I feel I am in a unique stage than ever before in my life. Not a quarter-life crisis, but a quarter-life presence. And on the brink of turning twenty-seven, I know I am leaving the juvenile days of late since I am closer to thirty than twenty. It does not feel old, it feels appropriate. Yet, it does not feel young, either.
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