I don't know if it's the fall (I now have a purple mark about the size of my fist next to the star on my butt) or the flu (could be?), but I feel all achy and sensitive. Last night, I had insomnia for a while and then nightmares. (Interestingly, both Alison and this woman in my class, Patsy, said they had sleep problems last night too. Is it the weather?) So, I bailed on my morning class, and I think I'll bail again on my evening plans as well (which was yoga). Instead, I am going to stay home, watch TV or read Harry Potter (I started 6 a couple days ago), and eat soup.
What I did end up doing today was my printmaking class, which did me a world of good. (Funny thing about depression, of whatever is wrong with me, you don’t want to do anything, but when you do it helps so much. Same with eating.) My new plate is pretty ugly, but I kept working on it anyway. We'll see if it improves. Basically, I really love printmaking.
As testament to the fact that I never ride the bus is the huge pile of Muni tokens I have had since like 1997 when I worked at RIDES (transit benefit) and we were all in SF. But I took the bus across town to class today bc of my achy condition. The 49/47/14 were packed in both directions and times of day (midday and PM rush hour). On the way home, I couldn't see where we were nor hear the announcer. So, I asked my fellow passengers where we were. Well, you can imagine my surprise when it turned out that none of them spoke English.
Speaking of public transit, I walked up the stairs at BART the other day, and there was a tiny brown mouse eating what looked like chewing gum off a stair (1). He looked at me and I at him neither of us changed our behavior in the slightest.
Volunteering for the KQED pledge drive last week, it turned out the woman next to me also named her daughter "Lilia" (spelled and pronounced the same way). (I know you are going to ask: they lived in LA when she was born, but shortly after moved to Berkeley where the mom still lives. Lilia is 24 and an NPO fundraising powerhouse.) She sang me a song she made up to help her daughter remember how to spell "Lilia" (which she has since left on my vm, per my request). Her daughter's last name is also one syllable, and she told me that every time she hears Beethoven's 9th (dundundun DUUUN), she says, "it's my song, they're singing my name!" I thought that was pretty cute.
I'm having some interesting email correspondences I want to string into blog posts, but for now I'll sign off.
Endnotes
(1) Random song lyrics from my childhood:
When I get to heaven and you get there,
I’ll write your name on a golden stair.
I’ll write it big so the angels can see
Just how much you mean to me.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
AIDS/LifeCycle Training
For those of you who may be interested, I did a second long ride yesterday (~25 miles) even tho I neglected to show up at the organized ride in the morning. However, it looks like I am going to need to pick up another long ride each week in order to meet my mileage goals (75-100 for February). I also fell down the stairs with my laundry and landed on my butt. This means that my butt and back are very sore, and I probably should lay off for a few days. Don't worry -- I am taking care of myself. I took a long bath in epson salts after the fall and the ride.
I'm doing the AIDS/Lifecycle, "riding to end AIDS." Please make a contribution, if you haven't already, at: (My participant number is 2012)
AIDS/LifeCycle | Donation Form for San�Francisco AIDS�Foundation
I'm doing the AIDS/Lifecycle, "riding to end AIDS." Please make a contribution, if you haven't already, at: (My participant number is 2012)
AIDS/LifeCycle | Donation Form for San�Francisco AIDS�Foundation
Friday, January 27, 2006
[Dear Liliapilia] Looking for Love with... flashlights?
Dear Liliapilia:
I have recently re-joined the ranks of the dating after years of being in a relationship that ran its course.
I am finding the signals between men and women a bit confusing. With the effort to create groovy, pro-feminist, relationships based on equality, I'm never quite sure when to make the next move. I'm certainly willing to, just don't know what is expected, or when exactly to make that move. Perhaps I'm just out of practice.
I am reminded of this great gag gift that was once presented to a single friend of mine at her birthday party. It was a little flashlight that had two buttons on it, one red and one green. This device was called the "Dating Flashlight." Its function was simple. From even the darkest party and at a distance a person could let their potential suitor know whether they had a green light to proceed, or a red light that means 'don't bother.'
Wouldn't dating be so much easier if we all were issued Dating Flashlights?
Signed,
Lost One Vicariously Engaged - Looking into Gadgets that Help Today
(LOVELIGHT)
(I received this advice letter a while back and kept it flagged in my inbox ever since, to write my response and post it as part of my series on relationships.)
Dear LOVELIGHT,
I used to wish everyone would just keep their status on their shirt. You could just look at a person’s sleeve and it would say: “in a relationship” or “single” or “newly single and not ready” or “single with hang ups.” Then, I thought, people could list their references too, so that the rest of us could avoid getting involved with jerks. Maybe, like job applications, everyone would list the reasons all their previous relationships ended (but you would have to honest). That way, we could each individually assess not only if it’s worth hitting on someone but also if that person would be able to give us what we’re looking for at that moment.
That would be very useful to those single and looking. I’m as guilty as anyone else for occasionally hitting on guys with girlfriends I didn’t know about. Likewise, about once a year, someone randomly hits on me, usually on BART. Sometimes, it’s someone who I would just never be interested in (like a woman, a man who doesn’t have an email address, or one far too young or old for me). Sometimes, I’m not single. So, it’s more than just relationship status. It would be helpful to know if someone is only attracted to men or petite blonds or women of a certain ethnicity or anyone foreign. Can we get that on the shirt too?
Of course not. And here’s why: people are not commodities. You don’t acquire them. They are not owned. (Interestingly, it just occurred to me that most things are owned, wanted or not. When in a relationship, partners should always want each other.) If someone interests you, you should get to know them regardless of their relationship status or sexual preferences.
We all have needs. We need food, water, air…. We also need love, physical affection, emotional support, companionship…. But it makes me furious that every song in the top 40 since the dawn of time has been about romantic relationships in a very rigid, traditional way. I believe that as a culture, we are brainwashed to believe that that is the only way to be in the world. Freud said that the indicators of sanity are the ability to work and to love. But is there only one way to love? Does it have to look a certain way?
There is so much pressure to couple that people do it thoughtlessly. People reject real love out of fear and stay in “Relationships” too long because of expectation. All those songs preach about one kind of love because that’s the only time some people allow themselves to feel strongly. But they create an unrealistic idea of what it is to be with another person.
I say all this from the place I am now. When I first read this advice letter, I was going to talk about going for numbers or hoping for fate as the 2 potential approaches. Now I believe that looking for a relationship necessarily leads to its commodification. I don’t want to ride the relationship merry-go-round ever again. Yeah, it’ll suck to try to buy a house on one income, but other people can’t be trusted anyway.
So, my advice to you, LOVELIGHT, is to chill out. Why do you feel like you need to date? These shirts or flashlights are not going to help you find a special connection. Invest in people you like regardless of what they can offer you. If it’s meant to be, it’ll find a way to be. And if it isn’t, you didn’t want it anyway, trust me.
I have recently re-joined the ranks of the dating after years of being in a relationship that ran its course.
I am finding the signals between men and women a bit confusing. With the effort to create groovy, pro-feminist, relationships based on equality, I'm never quite sure when to make the next move. I'm certainly willing to, just don't know what is expected, or when exactly to make that move. Perhaps I'm just out of practice.
I am reminded of this great gag gift that was once presented to a single friend of mine at her birthday party. It was a little flashlight that had two buttons on it, one red and one green. This device was called the "Dating Flashlight." Its function was simple. From even the darkest party and at a distance a person could let their potential suitor know whether they had a green light to proceed, or a red light that means 'don't bother.'
Wouldn't dating be so much easier if we all were issued Dating Flashlights?
Signed,
Lost One Vicariously Engaged - Looking into Gadgets that Help Today
(LOVELIGHT)
(I received this advice letter a while back and kept it flagged in my inbox ever since, to write my response and post it as part of my series on relationships.)
Dear LOVELIGHT,
I used to wish everyone would just keep their status on their shirt. You could just look at a person’s sleeve and it would say: “in a relationship” or “single” or “newly single and not ready” or “single with hang ups.” Then, I thought, people could list their references too, so that the rest of us could avoid getting involved with jerks. Maybe, like job applications, everyone would list the reasons all their previous relationships ended (but you would have to honest). That way, we could each individually assess not only if it’s worth hitting on someone but also if that person would be able to give us what we’re looking for at that moment.
That would be very useful to those single and looking. I’m as guilty as anyone else for occasionally hitting on guys with girlfriends I didn’t know about. Likewise, about once a year, someone randomly hits on me, usually on BART. Sometimes, it’s someone who I would just never be interested in (like a woman, a man who doesn’t have an email address, or one far too young or old for me). Sometimes, I’m not single. So, it’s more than just relationship status. It would be helpful to know if someone is only attracted to men or petite blonds or women of a certain ethnicity or anyone foreign. Can we get that on the shirt too?
Of course not. And here’s why: people are not commodities. You don’t acquire them. They are not owned. (Interestingly, it just occurred to me that most things are owned, wanted or not. When in a relationship, partners should always want each other.) If someone interests you, you should get to know them regardless of their relationship status or sexual preferences.
We all have needs. We need food, water, air…. We also need love, physical affection, emotional support, companionship…. But it makes me furious that every song in the top 40 since the dawn of time has been about romantic relationships in a very rigid, traditional way. I believe that as a culture, we are brainwashed to believe that that is the only way to be in the world. Freud said that the indicators of sanity are the ability to work and to love. But is there only one way to love? Does it have to look a certain way?
There is so much pressure to couple that people do it thoughtlessly. People reject real love out of fear and stay in “Relationships” too long because of expectation. All those songs preach about one kind of love because that’s the only time some people allow themselves to feel strongly. But they create an unrealistic idea of what it is to be with another person.
I say all this from the place I am now. When I first read this advice letter, I was going to talk about going for numbers or hoping for fate as the 2 potential approaches. Now I believe that looking for a relationship necessarily leads to its commodification. I don’t want to ride the relationship merry-go-round ever again. Yeah, it’ll suck to try to buy a house on one income, but other people can’t be trusted anyway.
So, my advice to you, LOVELIGHT, is to chill out. Why do you feel like you need to date? These shirts or flashlights are not going to help you find a special connection. Invest in people you like regardless of what they can offer you. If it’s meant to be, it’ll find a way to be. And if it isn’t, you didn’t want it anyway, trust me.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Etching
I did my first etching today, and as I anticipated, it was awesome.
It's a pretty messy process. It occurred to me today that the things that make me really happy usually involve getting my hands dirty.
[Note: I've got tears streaming down my face at the moment from watching American Idol. I gotta change the channel. I don't even like this show.]
It's a pretty messy process. It occurred to me today that the things that make me really happy usually involve getting my hands dirty.
[Note: I've got tears streaming down my face at the moment from watching American Idol. I gotta change the channel. I don't even like this show.]
Monday, January 23, 2006
Charmed quote
I like to watch TV when I eat. It’s a bad habit, but the alternatives aren’t acceptable either. Reading books or at the computer, I always get food on everything. And I require constant entertainment. A magazine would be a good solution, but I can’t decide which one to get. (Please put your suggestions as a comment to this post.) At some point, I will get a magazine and all this may change.
Additional complication: I only get like 7 channels and nothing is on most of the them most of the time. So, I was watching a rerun of Charmed yesterday afternoon and heard something I really liked: “At its core, evil exists for one reason: to spread loss. Be careful not to lose each other.”
Additional complication: I only get like 7 channels and nothing is on most of the them most of the time. So, I was watching a rerun of Charmed yesterday afternoon and heard something I really liked: “At its core, evil exists for one reason: to spread loss. Be careful not to lose each other.”
Harry Potter 5 cont.
I finished Harry Potter 5, and I stand by all my earlier observations except 1: Ginny Weasley is the other non-annoying female character.
Also, I don’t know if it’s England or what, but this culture of withholding information is very strange. Where I come from, people tell each other things, share information. Secrets are bad. In Harry Potter, they are the norm. That probably increases the possibilities for suspense but it doesn’t strike me as very realistic.
Also, I don’t know if it’s England or what, but this culture of withholding information is very strange. Where I come from, people tell each other things, share information. Secrets are bad. In Harry Potter, they are the norm. That probably increases the possibilities for suspense but it doesn’t strike me as very realistic.
On the English language
This poem was on one of the European lists I'm on in response to the EU choosing English to be its official language. He makes a good point, and as a grammarian, I find it entertaining.
The Chaos:
1.
Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
2.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
3.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
4.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
5.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
6.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Feoffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
7.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
8.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
9.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
10.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
11.
Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
12.
Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!
Written by Dr. Gerald Nolst Trenite (1870-1946), a Dutch observer of English.
The Chaos:
1.
Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
2.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
3.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
4.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
5.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
6.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Feoffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
7.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
8.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
9.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
10.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
11.
Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
12.
Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!
Written by Dr. Gerald Nolst Trenite (1870-1946), a Dutch observer of English.
Taxi travel pollution 'highest'
Bad news for those living without a car:
BBC NEWS | Health | Taxi travel pollution 'highest'
BBC NEWS | Health | Taxi travel pollution 'highest'
Sunday, January 22, 2006
update
So much has happened since my last post, and I don’t know where to begin. I even have little scraps of paper sitting here at the computer with me, but I won’t decode them now. Maybe it’s been too long and all become too much.
Friday evening, before meeting my friend Brian for a drink, I volunteered at KQED. The food was good. I liked talking with the people who called in to make pledges, and I’m generally glad I showed up. On the other hand, for example, they wanted us to write out every city name, bc they might have the data entry done in another state where they don’t know what “SF” stands for. The thing is, the Post Office DOES know what SF stands for, and aren’t they the only ones that count? There was a cute boy, who was probably like 12 (I’m trying really hard to be attracted to men in their late 30s) and vegan, but fun to talk to all the same. And, because of the New Yorker 8-DVD set (every magazine between 2/1925 and 2/2005), we took in like $100,000, which is a record. I’ll be back next week.
Yesterday, I did my first training ride for the Aids Lifecycle. I’m a “cat 2” meaning I ride a medium speed. Including accessing the ride, I did 30 miles, and I feel it in my back and abs. The goal for January is 50-75 miles a week, and I think I can do that. The bad news is that yesterday afternoon I was completely worthless: I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t run errands; I could only lie on my couch, moan and read Harry Potter.
It’s a long, boring story, but the short version is that I’m on Harry Potter 5 (one back from the most recent release) and almost finished. It may be premature, but my main observations are:
1) Transportation: there was a private automobile in year 2, I think, but I just love how they travel around: the Knight bus, the Hogarts Express, flow powder, disparate… and that’s not when they’re traveling like muggles on the underground. How civilized is that? Clearly, this is because the story takes place in London (I keep wondering if she’s going to mention the Congestion Charging program), but I always prefer a multimodal story.
2) Harry Potter is this hero, but he’s not very smart. There’s no question that he’s an incredibly talented wizard, but intellect is not his strong point. That’s real.
3) The author is a woman, yet the lead characters are mainly men, and the female ones nag, cry all the time, or are annoying in some other way. The only female character who can’t be described this way is Professior McGonagall. I don’t know what to make of her, but I find the rest annoyingly misogynist.
Classes started this week, and it all went pretty well. I’m taking the same figure drawing class I took last spring, and Diane Olivier is still a great teacher. I’m incredibly excited about fine art printmaking. My first reaction to sitting in the class was “this is too hard. I’m never going to be able to do this.” Which was, of course, ridiculous. So, yeah, I think I’m on the brink of something really big there.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned that I’ve been co-teaching yoga to adults with disabilities at Creative Growth. I also find that incredibly rewarding. This week, I also worked with this guy who is a very bad quadriplegic. I helped him paint a silk scarf with hot pink, yellow and blue, and it came out so beautiful with the colors all mixing to create very pretty shades of purple, red and green as well. He painted from his wheelchair with a brush at the end of a long stick the he could only sort of control. Nearby, Dan Miller, who is one of their more famous artists, worked on one of his usual pen-and-ink pieces. He creates these abstract drawings where he writes words together until they all come out a scribbling blob with parts of words coming out at the edges. They remind me of the media. He flipped thru an art catalog, and we discussed light bulbs (there were images of light bulbs in the catalog). “Lightbulb. Round.” He said. Then I suggested some other things that a light bulb is and then explained how a lightbulb works. He then selected the words he liked and wrote them into his drawing.
So, it was a really good week on those fronts. I also maintained my usual level of social activity (friends=good). I did not, however, manage to show up at the first day of my French class. That’s significant, but I am looking into creative solutions.
Friday evening, before meeting my friend Brian for a drink, I volunteered at KQED. The food was good. I liked talking with the people who called in to make pledges, and I’m generally glad I showed up. On the other hand, for example, they wanted us to write out every city name, bc they might have the data entry done in another state where they don’t know what “SF” stands for. The thing is, the Post Office DOES know what SF stands for, and aren’t they the only ones that count? There was a cute boy, who was probably like 12 (I’m trying really hard to be attracted to men in their late 30s) and vegan, but fun to talk to all the same. And, because of the New Yorker 8-DVD set (every magazine between 2/1925 and 2/2005), we took in like $100,000, which is a record. I’ll be back next week.
Yesterday, I did my first training ride for the Aids Lifecycle. I’m a “cat 2” meaning I ride a medium speed. Including accessing the ride, I did 30 miles, and I feel it in my back and abs. The goal for January is 50-75 miles a week, and I think I can do that. The bad news is that yesterday afternoon I was completely worthless: I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t run errands; I could only lie on my couch, moan and read Harry Potter.
It’s a long, boring story, but the short version is that I’m on Harry Potter 5 (one back from the most recent release) and almost finished. It may be premature, but my main observations are:
1) Transportation: there was a private automobile in year 2, I think, but I just love how they travel around: the Knight bus, the Hogarts Express, flow powder, disparate… and that’s not when they’re traveling like muggles on the underground. How civilized is that? Clearly, this is because the story takes place in London (I keep wondering if she’s going to mention the Congestion Charging program), but I always prefer a multimodal story.
2) Harry Potter is this hero, but he’s not very smart. There’s no question that he’s an incredibly talented wizard, but intellect is not his strong point. That’s real.
3) The author is a woman, yet the lead characters are mainly men, and the female ones nag, cry all the time, or are annoying in some other way. The only female character who can’t be described this way is Professior McGonagall. I don’t know what to make of her, but I find the rest annoyingly misogynist.
Classes started this week, and it all went pretty well. I’m taking the same figure drawing class I took last spring, and Diane Olivier is still a great teacher. I’m incredibly excited about fine art printmaking. My first reaction to sitting in the class was “this is too hard. I’m never going to be able to do this.” Which was, of course, ridiculous. So, yeah, I think I’m on the brink of something really big there.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever mentioned that I’ve been co-teaching yoga to adults with disabilities at Creative Growth. I also find that incredibly rewarding. This week, I also worked with this guy who is a very bad quadriplegic. I helped him paint a silk scarf with hot pink, yellow and blue, and it came out so beautiful with the colors all mixing to create very pretty shades of purple, red and green as well. He painted from his wheelchair with a brush at the end of a long stick the he could only sort of control. Nearby, Dan Miller, who is one of their more famous artists, worked on one of his usual pen-and-ink pieces. He creates these abstract drawings where he writes words together until they all come out a scribbling blob with parts of words coming out at the edges. They remind me of the media. He flipped thru an art catalog, and we discussed light bulbs (there were images of light bulbs in the catalog). “Lightbulb. Round.” He said. Then I suggested some other things that a light bulb is and then explained how a lightbulb works. He then selected the words he liked and wrote them into his drawing.
So, it was a really good week on those fronts. I also maintained my usual level of social activity (friends=good). I did not, however, manage to show up at the first day of my French class. That’s significant, but I am looking into creative solutions.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Friends
We convened another focus group on the friendship issue, and I have some notes to report. First of all, this group had trouble understanding the question which resulted in a change in terminology. When they thought about “best friends”, they thought of exclusive arrangements between 2 elementary-school aged children. So, we’re changing the name to “tier 1 friends”.
Secondly, they rejected the housekeys measurement. One pair will give their keys to almost anyone, and another pair isn’t allowed to give their keys to anyone (they say “do not duplicate”).
Otherwise, the group accepted the original definition with modifications. They believed that it’s not just people you would call in the middle of the night, but people you would call in case of an emergency. On the other hand, your “emergency contact” info you give to your work is too limiting.
I am reminded of Dar Williams’s song The Blessings (skip this part if not interested – more below):
If you’re gonna get your heart broke, you better do it just right,
It’s gotta be raining, and you gotta move your stuff that night,
And the only friend you can reach isn’t a good friend at all,
And you know when he says ’now who dumped who? ’ that you never should have made
That call.
I had the blessings, there’s nobody there, there’s nobody home,
Yeah the blessings, at the moment I was most alone
And aimless as a fulltime fool, the joke was on me,
I got all those birds flying off of that tree, and that’s a blessing.
And the blessings were like poets that we never find time to know,
But when time stopped I found the place where the poets go.
And they said, ’here have some coffee, it’s straight, black and very old,’
And they gave me sticks and rocks and stars and all that I could hold,
I had the blessings, a moment of peace even when the night ends,
Yeah the blessings, can we meet? can we meet again,
At the crossroads of disaster and the imperfect smile,
With the angel in the streetlamp that blinks on as I walk on a mile, the blessings.
And the best ones were the ones I got to keep as I grew strong,
And the days that opened up until my whole life could belong,
And now I’m getting the answers, when I don’t need them anymore,
I’m finding the pictures, and I finally know what I kept them for,
I remember, I can see them, see them smiling, see them stuck,
See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings.
I was fast asleep at three in the morning when I got the payphone call,
And she said, ’did I wake you up,’ I said, ’hey, no, not at all.’
And she said, ’i got this suitcase and I don’t know what to pack,’
And I said, ’you can take anything you want, just wait and see,
It’s not a release, not a reward, it’s the blessings,
Its the gift of what you notice more,'
And I walked out and I watched her kick the big pile of the night,
And we sat down and we waited for that strange and empty light.
Yeah the blessings...
See them smiling, see them stuck,
See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings.
***
We look to the poetry in our lives for lessons about how to live and love. And the way poetry reaches us now is thru music. So, I’m just thinking of this now, but maybe a tier 1 friend is one who knows what you need in an emergency. Like a definition of “home” I’ve heard, where “no one can kick you out.” The company of a tier 1 friend is a kind of home.
That makes a nice transition into another of their responses, which was in agreement with Lee on Friday night, a friend is a feeling not an action. But, as planners and scientists, I think I was able to convince them that feelings manifest themselves into actions that can be observed.
They also did not believe that this definition has a gender bias. They believe that my online conversant who said it did just didn’t have any good male friends. They questioned my “is local” requirement, but I’m just not willing to budge on that one. I mean, I guess if you talk on the phone with someone often and manage to be in the same place once a month some of these emotional needs could be met by that person, but what about when your neighbor’s apartment is broken into and the cops won’t let you enter your home? You’ll need a good smattering of local friends, or at least one good one whose housekeys you have, to support you thru that.
I’m sometimes known for my graveyard of former best (female) friends. There are more of them who are “dead to me” than ex-lovers (of whom there are very few). Each of these relationships is marked by intensity of feelings, and I have no qualm with admitting to being emotionally intense. I adored Marie, Bree, and Kathy. Nicole was strangely obsessed with me. Fundamentally, what didn’t work about these relationships was that our expectations didn’t match.
I’m not really interested in examining how one chooses one’s tier 1 friends (right now?). My point is that tier 1 friends need to individually agree upon the level of loyalty and support they provide each other. Sometimes I wonder if it came down to feelings. Maybe Marie just didn’t like me enough to provide the friendship loyalty I expected? Maybe I didn’t like Nicole enough? That might have been the case some of the time, but I actually really don’t think so. More likely, one of us did something the other didn’t like, and the whole thing spiraled from there: Kate refusing to help me with the asparagus (and then I refused to go to Berkeley to see her), Daagya dating the boy I liked (and then I told people I didn’t respect her), me deciding not to move to NYC with Bree (and then she took our roommates’ side against me at our house in Berkeley). I think Kate really valued my friendship. I think Daagya was young and liked having her ego stroked (and other parts of her too, I imagine). I think Bree, also, was inexperienced with friendship. I want to say that it comes down to depth of feelings, but, in my coldest, clearest moments, I know it’s about skill.
I hope, I would like to believe, that as we get older and more emotionally mature, even the most emotional among us (me?) learn this skill. We know to approach friendship cautiously, not to jump into anything before we feel confident that both sides can meet loyalty expectations. There are a lot of people out there who just don’t belong in your tier 1, and the kind, the humane thing to do is not to give them the impression they can reside there.
Yeah, it’s not different than Relationships. It’s the same. Maybe you’re screening for a tall skinny guy with gray eyes and a lovely sonorous voice whom you have challenging conversations with, but if you’re going to spend a chunk of time with him, he should be able to offer friendship even if the romance turns sour. (It’s one thing if you can’t do it bc you feel too strongly, but totally unacceptable if you can’t do it bc you lack the skill.)
I know lots of marriages that have ended when someone had a death in the family and just didn’t get the support they needed from their spouse. At the same time, death is everywhere. Moments die. Ideas become obsolete. In the end, all you have is dust, flakes of skin once holding your body together, now garbage. And maybe we can find instruction from each of these tiny deaths on how the larger ones would go. I don’t know.
Getting back to the main point, at least a little, I want to repeat that I have had a really bad year. These are the times when you find out who your friends are. Maybe it’s as simple as that. When you have a really shitty time, it’s the people who stand by you, who say the right things, who always make it better rather than worse, those are the people you know you can safely give your heart to, and those are the people who are your friends.
(Of course, hopefully, you don’t have to experience a crisis to figure out who your friends are. But it’s always worth paying attention.)
Dar Williams has more thoughts on the subject in her song, My Friends:
"He's a quiet man," that's all she said
And he's a thoughtful man
It's just he likes to keep his thoughts up in his head
And we finally meet, and she tries to draw him out a bit
She says "He's writing something,
Hey now, why don't you talk about it?"
And he doesn't make a sound
He's just staring at his coffee
And I know there's all this beauty
And this greatness she'll defend
But I think it's in my friend
I have a friend in a bright and distant town
She's found a common balance
Where you do your work, and you do your love
And they pay you, and praise your many talents
Well I'm passing through, and we know we won't sleep
She laughs, puts up the tea
She says "You know I think you remember every part of me."
And the water starts to boil
And if I had a camera
Showing all the light we give
And showing where the light extends
I'd give it to my friends
Sometimes I see myself fine, sometimes I need a witness
And I like the whole truth
But there are nights I only need forgiveness
Sometimes they say "I don't know who you are
But let me walk with you some"
And I say "I am alone, that's all
You can't save me from all the wrong I've done."
But they're waiting just the same
With their flashlights and their semaphores
And I'll act like I have faith and like that faith never ends
But I really just have friends
Secondly, they rejected the housekeys measurement. One pair will give their keys to almost anyone, and another pair isn’t allowed to give their keys to anyone (they say “do not duplicate”).
Otherwise, the group accepted the original definition with modifications. They believed that it’s not just people you would call in the middle of the night, but people you would call in case of an emergency. On the other hand, your “emergency contact” info you give to your work is too limiting.
I am reminded of Dar Williams’s song The Blessings (skip this part if not interested – more below):
If you’re gonna get your heart broke, you better do it just right,
It’s gotta be raining, and you gotta move your stuff that night,
And the only friend you can reach isn’t a good friend at all,
And you know when he says ’now who dumped who? ’ that you never should have made
That call.
I had the blessings, there’s nobody there, there’s nobody home,
Yeah the blessings, at the moment I was most alone
And aimless as a fulltime fool, the joke was on me,
I got all those birds flying off of that tree, and that’s a blessing.
And the blessings were like poets that we never find time to know,
But when time stopped I found the place where the poets go.
And they said, ’here have some coffee, it’s straight, black and very old,’
And they gave me sticks and rocks and stars and all that I could hold,
I had the blessings, a moment of peace even when the night ends,
Yeah the blessings, can we meet? can we meet again,
At the crossroads of disaster and the imperfect smile,
With the angel in the streetlamp that blinks on as I walk on a mile, the blessings.
And the best ones were the ones I got to keep as I grew strong,
And the days that opened up until my whole life could belong,
And now I’m getting the answers, when I don’t need them anymore,
I’m finding the pictures, and I finally know what I kept them for,
I remember, I can see them, see them smiling, see them stuck,
See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings.
I was fast asleep at three in the morning when I got the payphone call,
And she said, ’did I wake you up,’ I said, ’hey, no, not at all.’
And she said, ’i got this suitcase and I don’t know what to pack,’
And I said, ’you can take anything you want, just wait and see,
It’s not a release, not a reward, it’s the blessings,
Its the gift of what you notice more,'
And I walked out and I watched her kick the big pile of the night,
And we sat down and we waited for that strange and empty light.
Yeah the blessings...
See them smiling, see them stuck,
See them try, I wish them luck and all the blessings.
***
We look to the poetry in our lives for lessons about how to live and love. And the way poetry reaches us now is thru music. So, I’m just thinking of this now, but maybe a tier 1 friend is one who knows what you need in an emergency. Like a definition of “home” I’ve heard, where “no one can kick you out.” The company of a tier 1 friend is a kind of home.
That makes a nice transition into another of their responses, which was in agreement with Lee on Friday night, a friend is a feeling not an action. But, as planners and scientists, I think I was able to convince them that feelings manifest themselves into actions that can be observed.
They also did not believe that this definition has a gender bias. They believe that my online conversant who said it did just didn’t have any good male friends. They questioned my “is local” requirement, but I’m just not willing to budge on that one. I mean, I guess if you talk on the phone with someone often and manage to be in the same place once a month some of these emotional needs could be met by that person, but what about when your neighbor’s apartment is broken into and the cops won’t let you enter your home? You’ll need a good smattering of local friends, or at least one good one whose housekeys you have, to support you thru that.
I’m sometimes known for my graveyard of former best (female) friends. There are more of them who are “dead to me” than ex-lovers (of whom there are very few). Each of these relationships is marked by intensity of feelings, and I have no qualm with admitting to being emotionally intense. I adored Marie, Bree, and Kathy. Nicole was strangely obsessed with me. Fundamentally, what didn’t work about these relationships was that our expectations didn’t match.
I’m not really interested in examining how one chooses one’s tier 1 friends (right now?). My point is that tier 1 friends need to individually agree upon the level of loyalty and support they provide each other. Sometimes I wonder if it came down to feelings. Maybe Marie just didn’t like me enough to provide the friendship loyalty I expected? Maybe I didn’t like Nicole enough? That might have been the case some of the time, but I actually really don’t think so. More likely, one of us did something the other didn’t like, and the whole thing spiraled from there: Kate refusing to help me with the asparagus (and then I refused to go to Berkeley to see her), Daagya dating the boy I liked (and then I told people I didn’t respect her), me deciding not to move to NYC with Bree (and then she took our roommates’ side against me at our house in Berkeley). I think Kate really valued my friendship. I think Daagya was young and liked having her ego stroked (and other parts of her too, I imagine). I think Bree, also, was inexperienced with friendship. I want to say that it comes down to depth of feelings, but, in my coldest, clearest moments, I know it’s about skill.
I hope, I would like to believe, that as we get older and more emotionally mature, even the most emotional among us (me?) learn this skill. We know to approach friendship cautiously, not to jump into anything before we feel confident that both sides can meet loyalty expectations. There are a lot of people out there who just don’t belong in your tier 1, and the kind, the humane thing to do is not to give them the impression they can reside there.
Yeah, it’s not different than Relationships. It’s the same. Maybe you’re screening for a tall skinny guy with gray eyes and a lovely sonorous voice whom you have challenging conversations with, but if you’re going to spend a chunk of time with him, he should be able to offer friendship even if the romance turns sour. (It’s one thing if you can’t do it bc you feel too strongly, but totally unacceptable if you can’t do it bc you lack the skill.)
I know lots of marriages that have ended when someone had a death in the family and just didn’t get the support they needed from their spouse. At the same time, death is everywhere. Moments die. Ideas become obsolete. In the end, all you have is dust, flakes of skin once holding your body together, now garbage. And maybe we can find instruction from each of these tiny deaths on how the larger ones would go. I don’t know.
Getting back to the main point, at least a little, I want to repeat that I have had a really bad year. These are the times when you find out who your friends are. Maybe it’s as simple as that. When you have a really shitty time, it’s the people who stand by you, who say the right things, who always make it better rather than worse, those are the people you know you can safely give your heart to, and those are the people who are your friends.
(Of course, hopefully, you don’t have to experience a crisis to figure out who your friends are. But it’s always worth paying attention.)
Dar Williams has more thoughts on the subject in her song, My Friends:
"He's a quiet man," that's all she said
And he's a thoughtful man
It's just he likes to keep his thoughts up in his head
And we finally meet, and she tries to draw him out a bit
She says "He's writing something,
Hey now, why don't you talk about it?"
And he doesn't make a sound
He's just staring at his coffee
And I know there's all this beauty
And this greatness she'll defend
But I think it's in my friend
I have a friend in a bright and distant town
She's found a common balance
Where you do your work, and you do your love
And they pay you, and praise your many talents
Well I'm passing through, and we know we won't sleep
She laughs, puts up the tea
She says "You know I think you remember every part of me."
And the water starts to boil
And if I had a camera
Showing all the light we give
And showing where the light extends
I'd give it to my friends
Sometimes I see myself fine, sometimes I need a witness
And I like the whole truth
But there are nights I only need forgiveness
Sometimes they say "I don't know who you are
But let me walk with you some"
And I say "I am alone, that's all
You can't save me from all the wrong I've done."
But they're waiting just the same
With their flashlights and their semaphores
And I'll act like I have faith and like that faith never ends
But I really just have friends
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Drink umbrellas, friends, and guilt
You wanna hear something funny? At the Tonga Room last night, Shanti and I were talking about something that made me start to cry. As a brief aside, this is not such an unusual occurrence these day; however, I was on my third tropical cocktail. I opened my purse to get a tissue so I didn’t end up with raccoon eyes. Low and behold, the bag is filled with drink umbrellas.
I’ve been collecting drink umbrellas for a few years now. The idea is that I am going to make art out of them. Maybe in the form of a chicken. I also collect beer coasters and match books, but I have no grand plans for them. So, I guess, at some point I am going to have to stop the umbrella collection. Or stop drinking tropical drinks. Or die. Who knows?
Just before this, I was giving this guy, Lee, a hard time. He’s the Bay Trail Planner with ABAG, and I noticed no one was talking to him. So, I approached him with my question du jour, which is about friendship.
It all began earlier this week with a conversation I had with someone I met online. I posed my 3 to 6 bestfriends theory, and defined a best friend as someone you 1) could call in the middle of the night, even if you never do, 2) make an effort to spend quality time with at regular intervals, and 3) is local. Bestfriends can include the person you sleep with and family members that meet the criteria. My online friend said that this was a gendered view, and that men would never call each other in the middle of the night. He said men don’t talk with each other about feelings even if they do talk with their female friends about feelings.
Thus, the question I was soliciting input on from the men of the group was: how do you define a bestfriend without gender bias? Lee would have none of this. He said a bestfriend is defined by a feeling, not an action. I’ll agree that I have stronger feelings for some of my friends than others and it doesn’t have anything to do with how long we’ve been friends. However, I do think that all this manifests itself in at least some quantifiable things. The trick is to find them.
The group last night also specifically rejected definition #3, is local. But I hold fast to that one bc the main goal is developing a system thru which your emotional needs are met. I believe that that can only happen with physical presence. They did, however, offer an additional possible measurement: people who have your housekeys.
People generally get keys to my home either bc they need them for some reason or because they live nearby (in case I lose mine). The group suggested that one can choose bestfriends by proximity as well. But I’m still thinking about that – it’s seems hard enough just to connect with people let alone to also require that they live near you….
Later in the evening, another subset of our group discussed guilt. This came up bc I like to give something up for Lent or Yom Kippur or Ramadan. I’m not picky which one. I was just asking which was next. Jeremy got all worked up in a lather about how guilt is this stupid catholic thing and the world should be ridded of it. It was cute.
The thing is, tho, that I don’t really have a relationship with guilt. I could be deep in denial, but I think I almost never feel guilty. I almost never do anything that’s worth feeling guilty about. The only thing I could think of was hurting people’s feelings.
“When have YOU ever hurt anyone’s feelings, Lilia?” Jeremy replied with force. He must think that bc I am such a nice person – it’s not possible that he thinks no one is ever emotionally invested enough in me for me to be able to hurt them. It’s been a little while since I hurt anyone’s feelings, but I do still feel bad about it. The trick is to do it as honorably and with as much grace as you can. (Neat trick.)
“But what about the way you live your life” Hope suggested. For example, they explained together, our friend Forest has invested in uranium; nuclear is coming back. Apparently, he’s made a lot of money, but he still feels guilty about it. I feel guilty for not composting or buying organic produce. Yeah, not quite the same thing, but it is the way I live my life and the way he lives his.
I would love to be able to say that the trick is simply to not do things that you’re going to feel guilty about. But at what cost? I mean, I’m not willing to give up trying to be better in order to give up guilt. It’s a cost-benefit analysis (like all things). I get more out of trying to be a better person than I suffer as a result of being aware that I’m not perfect.
Did I say that? Please don’t tell anyone. Instead take this with you: my friends are great.
I’ve been collecting drink umbrellas for a few years now. The idea is that I am going to make art out of them. Maybe in the form of a chicken. I also collect beer coasters and match books, but I have no grand plans for them. So, I guess, at some point I am going to have to stop the umbrella collection. Or stop drinking tropical drinks. Or die. Who knows?
Just before this, I was giving this guy, Lee, a hard time. He’s the Bay Trail Planner with ABAG, and I noticed no one was talking to him. So, I approached him with my question du jour, which is about friendship.
It all began earlier this week with a conversation I had with someone I met online. I posed my 3 to 6 bestfriends theory, and defined a best friend as someone you 1) could call in the middle of the night, even if you never do, 2) make an effort to spend quality time with at regular intervals, and 3) is local. Bestfriends can include the person you sleep with and family members that meet the criteria. My online friend said that this was a gendered view, and that men would never call each other in the middle of the night. He said men don’t talk with each other about feelings even if they do talk with their female friends about feelings.
Thus, the question I was soliciting input on from the men of the group was: how do you define a bestfriend without gender bias? Lee would have none of this. He said a bestfriend is defined by a feeling, not an action. I’ll agree that I have stronger feelings for some of my friends than others and it doesn’t have anything to do with how long we’ve been friends. However, I do think that all this manifests itself in at least some quantifiable things. The trick is to find them.
The group last night also specifically rejected definition #3, is local. But I hold fast to that one bc the main goal is developing a system thru which your emotional needs are met. I believe that that can only happen with physical presence. They did, however, offer an additional possible measurement: people who have your housekeys.
People generally get keys to my home either bc they need them for some reason or because they live nearby (in case I lose mine). The group suggested that one can choose bestfriends by proximity as well. But I’m still thinking about that – it’s seems hard enough just to connect with people let alone to also require that they live near you….
Later in the evening, another subset of our group discussed guilt. This came up bc I like to give something up for Lent or Yom Kippur or Ramadan. I’m not picky which one. I was just asking which was next. Jeremy got all worked up in a lather about how guilt is this stupid catholic thing and the world should be ridded of it. It was cute.
The thing is, tho, that I don’t really have a relationship with guilt. I could be deep in denial, but I think I almost never feel guilty. I almost never do anything that’s worth feeling guilty about. The only thing I could think of was hurting people’s feelings.
“When have YOU ever hurt anyone’s feelings, Lilia?” Jeremy replied with force. He must think that bc I am such a nice person – it’s not possible that he thinks no one is ever emotionally invested enough in me for me to be able to hurt them. It’s been a little while since I hurt anyone’s feelings, but I do still feel bad about it. The trick is to do it as honorably and with as much grace as you can. (Neat trick.)
“But what about the way you live your life” Hope suggested. For example, they explained together, our friend Forest has invested in uranium; nuclear is coming back. Apparently, he’s made a lot of money, but he still feels guilty about it. I feel guilty for not composting or buying organic produce. Yeah, not quite the same thing, but it is the way I live my life and the way he lives his.
I would love to be able to say that the trick is simply to not do things that you’re going to feel guilty about. But at what cost? I mean, I’m not willing to give up trying to be better in order to give up guilt. It’s a cost-benefit analysis (like all things). I get more out of trying to be a better person than I suffer as a result of being aware that I’m not perfect.
Did I say that? Please don’t tell anyone. Instead take this with you: my friends are great.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Announcing Liliapilia Cookies
We filled our first order today. The cookies are homemade with love and hormone-free butter, free-range eggs, and organic unrefined sugar and flour, and they're delicious. Place your order now (minumum order size 2 dozen). For more information contact liliapilia at gmail dot com. Free delivery in 94110.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Critical Mass Arrests Dismissed NYPD "Hopelessly Overboard"
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
January 10, 2006
CONTACTS:
DAVID RANKIN, FreeWheels 917-455-0609 drankinn@yahoo.com
GIDEON OLIVER, Oliver & Oliver 646-602-9242 gideon@mindless.com
JUDGE FINDS NYC PARADE PERMIT LAW UNCONSTITUTIONAL:
"CRITICAL MASS" BIKERS' CHARGES DISMISSED
Yesterday, New York City Criminal Court Judge Gerald Harris decided that the City's parade permit
law is "hopelessly overbroad" and "'constitutes a burden on free expression that is more than the
First Amendment can bear.'"
Judge Harris's written Verdict in People v. Bezjak, et al. dismissed the parading without a permit
charges against all of the 8 people who were arrested on the night of the January 2005 Critical
Mass bicycle ride, but held each guilty of disorderly conduct, a verdict the cyclists may consider
appealing.
"The City has arrested and prosecuted over 2,000 people since August of 2004 for violating a law
this Decision clearly finds unconstitutional on its face," said Gideon Oliver, the cyclists'
attorney. Oliver "challenged the City to reconsider its aggressive stance toward policing First
Amendment activities in general, and Critical Mass bicycle rides in particular" in light of the 17-page
Verdict.
According to Bruce Bentley of the National Lawyers Guild, the vast majority of the 1,806
Republican National Convention arrests resulted in parading without a permit prosecutions. Since the RNC,
the City has arrested almost 350 bicyclists for parading without a permit, and sought injunctions
in State and Federal Courts that would subject participants in future Critical Mass rides to
criminal penalties of up to a year in jail.
Yesterday's Verdict offered several examples of events that appear to require a permit under the
law as written in order "to highlight the virtually unfettered discretion reposed in the Police
Commissioner to determine when any particular event may be found to fall within the amorphous
definition of parade or procession and, thus, requires a permit."
According to the Verdict, "a person promenading, or two persons racing, . . . a funeral
procession, two or three cars displaying political posters traveling one behind the other, caravan style, or
a small group of friends biking together" might be required to obtain permits under the law as
written.
The Verdict also found the permit law is unconstitutional because even a person who "unknowingly
participates in a permitless march may be arrested, fined or imprisoned. Thus, bystanders or
onlookers, stirred by the passion evoked by a political march, join in at their peril."
"While some Decisions from the Criminal Court over the course of the past year have upheld the
constitutionality of the permit requirement," said Oliver, "this Verdict is the first to result from
a full trial, at which the Court heard 3 days' worth of testimony from 11 NYPD Officers which it
said 'highlighted deficiencies in the City's parade permit scheme.'"
Dave Rankin, a FreeWheels Board member who assisted during the trial, said that the 8 defendants
were "pleased with the vindication of their First Amendment rights." However, Rankin noted that
the trials of about 30 bicyclists arrested for "parading without a permit" in February, March,
April, May, June, and July of 2005 are all currently scheduled to begin later this month, and said it
was "unclear whether the District Attorney's Office would consider declining to prosecute the
parading without a permit charges in those cases in light of the Court's ruling."
Recognizing that neither the City nor other Judges are technically bound by this Decision, Oliver
said he is nevertheless "hopeful that others will be convinced by Judge Harris's careful
consideration of the 600-plus page record in these cases and the Verdict's logical application of
well-settled United States Supreme Court precedents."
According to the Verdict, "there was testimony [at trial] that the practice of the Police
Department is in a state of flux - while Critical Mass rides have been occurring for years, only recently
have the police made arrests for proceeding without a permit."
Some of the practices the NYPD has deployed in policing Critical Mass bicycle rides since August
of 2004 have drawn wide criticism. A December 22, 2005 New York Times article by Jim Dwyer
recently led attorneys in the Handschu lawsuit to take steps that could ultimately lead to contempt
proceedings against the City in Federal Court for spying on peaceful protesters - including
participants in Critical Mass rides - in violation of Court-approved guidelines binding on the City.
A copy of the January 9, 2006 Decision in People v. Bezjak is available online at:
http://www.oliverandoliverlaw.com/ORAM.pdf.
- FreeWheels (www.bicycledefensefund.org)
January 10, 2006
CONTACTS:
DAVID RANKIN, FreeWheels 917-455-0609 drankinn@yahoo.com
GIDEON OLIVER, Oliver & Oliver 646-602-9242 gideon@mindless.com
JUDGE FINDS NYC PARADE PERMIT LAW UNCONSTITUTIONAL:
"CRITICAL MASS" BIKERS' CHARGES DISMISSED
Yesterday, New York City Criminal Court Judge Gerald Harris decided that the City's parade permit
law is "hopelessly overbroad" and "'constitutes a burden on free expression that is more than the
First Amendment can bear.'"
Judge Harris's written Verdict in People v. Bezjak, et al. dismissed the parading without a permit
charges against all of the 8 people who were arrested on the night of the January 2005 Critical
Mass bicycle ride, but held each guilty of disorderly conduct, a verdict the cyclists may consider
appealing.
"The City has arrested and prosecuted over 2,000 people since August of 2004 for violating a law
this Decision clearly finds unconstitutional on its face," said Gideon Oliver, the cyclists'
attorney. Oliver "challenged the City to reconsider its aggressive stance toward policing First
Amendment activities in general, and Critical Mass bicycle rides in particular" in light of the 17-page
Verdict.
According to Bruce Bentley of the National Lawyers Guild, the vast majority of the 1,806
Republican National Convention arrests resulted in parading without a permit prosecutions. Since the RNC,
the City has arrested almost 350 bicyclists for parading without a permit, and sought injunctions
in State and Federal Courts that would subject participants in future Critical Mass rides to
criminal penalties of up to a year in jail.
Yesterday's Verdict offered several examples of events that appear to require a permit under the
law as written in order "to highlight the virtually unfettered discretion reposed in the Police
Commissioner to determine when any particular event may be found to fall within the amorphous
definition of parade or procession and, thus, requires a permit."
According to the Verdict, "a person promenading, or two persons racing, . . . a funeral
procession, two or three cars displaying political posters traveling one behind the other, caravan style, or
a small group of friends biking together" might be required to obtain permits under the law as
written.
The Verdict also found the permit law is unconstitutional because even a person who "unknowingly
participates in a permitless march may be arrested, fined or imprisoned. Thus, bystanders or
onlookers, stirred by the passion evoked by a political march, join in at their peril."
"While some Decisions from the Criminal Court over the course of the past year have upheld the
constitutionality of the permit requirement," said Oliver, "this Verdict is the first to result from
a full trial, at which the Court heard 3 days' worth of testimony from 11 NYPD Officers which it
said 'highlighted deficiencies in the City's parade permit scheme.'"
Dave Rankin, a FreeWheels Board member who assisted during the trial, said that the 8 defendants
were "pleased with the vindication of their First Amendment rights." However, Rankin noted that
the trials of about 30 bicyclists arrested for "parading without a permit" in February, March,
April, May, June, and July of 2005 are all currently scheduled to begin later this month, and said it
was "unclear whether the District Attorney's Office would consider declining to prosecute the
parading without a permit charges in those cases in light of the Court's ruling."
Recognizing that neither the City nor other Judges are technically bound by this Decision, Oliver
said he is nevertheless "hopeful that others will be convinced by Judge Harris's careful
consideration of the 600-plus page record in these cases and the Verdict's logical application of
well-settled United States Supreme Court precedents."
According to the Verdict, "there was testimony [at trial] that the practice of the Police
Department is in a state of flux - while Critical Mass rides have been occurring for years, only recently
have the police made arrests for proceeding without a permit."
Some of the practices the NYPD has deployed in policing Critical Mass bicycle rides since August
of 2004 have drawn wide criticism. A December 22, 2005 New York Times article by Jim Dwyer
recently led attorneys in the Handschu lawsuit to take steps that could ultimately lead to contempt
proceedings against the City in Federal Court for spying on peaceful protesters - including
participants in Critical Mass rides - in violation of Court-approved guidelines binding on the City.
A copy of the January 9, 2006 Decision in People v. Bezjak is available online at:
http://www.oliverandoliverlaw.com/ORAM.pdf.
- FreeWheels (www.bicycledefensefund.org)
2006 Quality of Life Index
What I think is interesting about this is that having a good healthcare system is so important and yet so rare. Or maybe I just don't know their methodology.
International Living Announces its 2006 Quality of Life Index
WATERFORD CITY, Ireland, January 9/-- For the 25th year running, the world's # 1 travel publication, International Living has released its Annual Quality of Life Index. And the winner is---France. The loser? Iraq. No explanation necessary for the latter, but France?
Good climate, unspoiled countryside, world-competitive infrastructure, plus the best health care in the world, according to the World Health Organization's recent study. The culture is top-notch-UNESCO has named 30 World Heritage sites in the country. And according to Laura Sheridan, editor of International Living, "its capital is arguably the world's most beautiful and romantic city."
Even with nightmarish bureaucracy, endless vacations, workers who go on strike at the drop of a beret, a tax burden that accounts for 45% of GDP---somehow France survives and the economy is on the up. Add to this the fact that France exports almost twice as much as the United States in GDP and you'll understand why International Living named France the world's best place to live.
Switzerland always scores high in International Living's Index, and this year it rises from the fourth-place position it held in last year's survey to take silver. Boasting a stable economy and infrastructure that is renowned for its reliability and efficiency, the standard of living in Switzerland is high, the crime rate is low, and the currency one of the world's strongest. With an average after-tax income of around $48,000 per year, Swiss residents are among the world's wealthiest citizens. Switzerland, of course, like France, isn't a bargain destination...but it isn't just for the mega-rich either. Although there are restrictions to where and what you can buy, you don't have to be a resident to own a Swiss home. Nor do all properties cost upward of $1 million. Laura notes, "In mountainous French-speaking Switzerland, around the Villars-sur-Ollon area, bijou studio apartments sell for as little as $150,000 or $200,000."
Rounding out International Living's top three is Australia. With its year-round sunshine and the great outdoors, Australia offers an active lifestyle. The cost of living is relatively low, and the country's economic performance has been the envy of the world for more than a decade. According to The Economist , Australia is now the only major economy to have a bi-lateral free-trade agreement with America, while also actively discussing one with China. Considering the quality of life offered by the world's top 38 cities, Mercers survey in 2005 rated five of Australia's cities as tops. They are in order of the highest rating in this survey: Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, Adelaide, and Brisbane.
Another antipode outpost, and coming fifth in International Living's Index this year, is Australia's neighbour, New Zealand. Although this country is not as cheap as it was five years ago, the American dollar is still holding its own against the Kiwi dollar (US$1 equals 1.44 New Zealand dollars).
The United States falls from the top position it held in this index for 21 years in a row, to take seventh place this year. The United States remains, inarguably, the world's most convenient place to live. But, International Living is convinced that convenience is not the most important factor in determining any country's quality of life. Its economic performance over the past year has slowed slightly, but more than that it is the ongoing and increasing infringements of personal freedoms that account primarily for its fall from first place.
The top ten
1. France
2. Switzerland
3. Australia
4. Denmark
5. New Zealand
6. Austria
7. United States
8. Sweden
9. Finland
10. Italy
Austria, Denmark, Sweden, and Finland all rank in International Living's top 10 this year. While these countries score high in the health care, infrastructure, safety, freedom, and economic categories, they lose points on climate and cost of living. The lowest-scoring countries this year are: Laos, Pakistan, Djibouti, Afghanistan, Haiti, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan, and Iraq. All, though, receive good scores in the cost of living category, making the point that a country can be cheap, but still not a place you'd want to live.
Welcome to International Living
International Living Announces its 2006 Quality of Life Index
WATERFORD CITY, Ireland, January 9/-- For the 25th year running, the world's # 1 travel publication, International Living has released its Annual Quality of Life Index. And the winner is---France. The loser? Iraq. No explanation necessary for the latter, but France?
Good climate, unspoiled countryside, world-competitive infrastructure, plus the best health care in the world, according to the World Health Organization's recent study. The culture is top-notch-UNESCO has named 30 World Heritage sites in the country. And according to Laura Sheridan, editor of International Living, "its capital is arguably the world's most beautiful and romantic city."
Even with nightmarish bureaucracy, endless vacations, workers who go on strike at the drop of a beret, a tax burden that accounts for 45% of GDP---somehow France survives and the economy is on the up. Add to this the fact that France exports almost twice as much as the United States in GDP and you'll understand why International Living named France the world's best place to live.
Switzerland always scores high in International Living's Index, and this year it rises from the fourth-place position it held in last year's survey to take silver. Boasting a stable economy and infrastructure that is renowned for its reliability and efficiency, the standard of living in Switzerland is high, the crime rate is low, and the currency one of the world's strongest. With an average after-tax income of around $48,000 per year, Swiss residents are among the world's wealthiest citizens. Switzerland, of course, like France, isn't a bargain destination...but it isn't just for the mega-rich either. Although there are restrictions to where and what you can buy, you don't have to be a resident to own a Swiss home. Nor do all properties cost upward of $1 million. Laura notes, "In mountainous French-speaking Switzerland, around the Villars-sur-Ollon area, bijou studio apartments sell for as little as $150,000 or $200,000."
Rounding out International Living's top three is Australia. With its year-round sunshine and the great outdoors, Australia offers an active lifestyle. The cost of living is relatively low, and the country's economic performance has been the envy of the world for more than a decade. According to The Economist , Australia is now the only major economy to have a bi-lateral free-trade agreement with America, while also actively discussing one with China. Considering the quality of life offered by the world's top 38 cities, Mercers survey in 2005 rated five of Australia's cities as tops. They are in order of the highest rating in this survey: Sydney, Melbourne, Perth, Adelaide, and Brisbane.
Another antipode outpost, and coming fifth in International Living's Index this year, is Australia's neighbour, New Zealand. Although this country is not as cheap as it was five years ago, the American dollar is still holding its own against the Kiwi dollar (US$1 equals 1.44 New Zealand dollars).
The United States falls from the top position it held in this index for 21 years in a row, to take seventh place this year. The United States remains, inarguably, the world's most convenient place to live. But, International Living is convinced that convenience is not the most important factor in determining any country's quality of life. Its economic performance over the past year has slowed slightly, but more than that it is the ongoing and increasing infringements of personal freedoms that account primarily for its fall from first place.
The top ten
1. France
2. Switzerland
3. Australia
4. Denmark
5. New Zealand
6. Austria
7. United States
8. Sweden
9. Finland
10. Italy
Austria, Denmark, Sweden, and Finland all rank in International Living's top 10 this year. While these countries score high in the health care, infrastructure, safety, freedom, and economic categories, they lose points on climate and cost of living. The lowest-scoring countries this year are: Laos, Pakistan, Djibouti, Afghanistan, Haiti, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan, and Iraq. All, though, receive good scores in the cost of living category, making the point that a country can be cheap, but still not a place you'd want to live.
Welcome to International Living
Clusterfuck Nation by James Howard Kunstler
Grayson sent this over for fun:
Clusterfuck Nation by James Howard Kunstler
Here's my favorite quote so far:
It would cost less to put in surface light rail lines down both sides of the bay than to fix two freeway overpasses -- but they'd rather pee on their car seats because at least they'd be able to choose their own tunes while doing so.
Clusterfuck Nation by James Howard Kunstler
Here's my favorite quote so far:
It would cost less to put in surface light rail lines down both sides of the bay than to fix two freeway overpasses -- but they'd rather pee on their car seats because at least they'd be able to choose their own tunes while doing so.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
What? What do you want from me?
I’m stuck in a holding pattern. I just spent a moment reading blog entries from last year. Why have I repeated the same year twice (with the exception of losing 2 very dear family members)? Am I not ready? Did I miss the lesson? Did I do it wrong? Are these the final turns of my Saturn returning?
So many things were similar between this winter and last. I don’t know how to start thinking about it. I mean, I feel optimistic, even excited about the coming spring, and while I had a fine time in both 2004 and 2005, I’m really interested in growing, in learning, in changing. When I planned to go to Europe again last year, it was for the next level: I would speak at the conference I attended the year before; I would actually do a bicycle trip; I would not let my relationship fall apart; I would actually speak French. Looking back, it seems more like an excuse to keep running. My friendships with people there are deeper, but that just makes me miss them when I’m at home. My career has certainly advanced, even if just in my own mind, but that’s just more responsibility. We stayed together until I got home, only to find that I had chosen, for the second time, a man who wasn’t ready for phase 2 (or at least not with me).
Meanwhile, I feel like my writings not as interesting as it used to be (probably because I haven’t been reading). I jump around too much. I’m not making my point, mostly because I don’t know what it is (sound familiar). At least at this point I’ve completely lost interest in social smoking. That’s a win. So, what? Is this who I am? Who I’m going to be? Is life this cyclical thing – we just take the merry-go-round round and round until we puke? I really don’t want to believe that, but it’s hard not to wonder.
My mother would say, “that’s just your story until it stops being your story.” None of us wants to become our mothers, but in this way her life is inspiring. She made more mistakes than God, and with each disaster and disappointment, she lifted herself back up again and thought of something else. Can we become new and improved versions of our mothers and be happy with that?
I don’t know why you keep talking to me. I have work to do. Leave me alone.
You see? Is it me or is it the world? – that’s what Marie and I used to ask ourselves, and her life for sure has radically changed. This was way back when she wanted to sleep with about 25 more guys and I just wanted to find a relationship that didn’t feel like an airless closet. Her goal turned out to be more realistic. Now, she’s married. Maybe I’m the one who isn’t ready.
Seriously now, I have to go. I have real work to do with a real deadline. Maybe I’ll take a break and eat something…. My grief diet is wearing thin.
So many things were similar between this winter and last. I don’t know how to start thinking about it. I mean, I feel optimistic, even excited about the coming spring, and while I had a fine time in both 2004 and 2005, I’m really interested in growing, in learning, in changing. When I planned to go to Europe again last year, it was for the next level: I would speak at the conference I attended the year before; I would actually do a bicycle trip; I would not let my relationship fall apart; I would actually speak French. Looking back, it seems more like an excuse to keep running. My friendships with people there are deeper, but that just makes me miss them when I’m at home. My career has certainly advanced, even if just in my own mind, but that’s just more responsibility. We stayed together until I got home, only to find that I had chosen, for the second time, a man who wasn’t ready for phase 2 (or at least not with me).
Meanwhile, I feel like my writings not as interesting as it used to be (probably because I haven’t been reading). I jump around too much. I’m not making my point, mostly because I don’t know what it is (sound familiar). At least at this point I’ve completely lost interest in social smoking. That’s a win. So, what? Is this who I am? Who I’m going to be? Is life this cyclical thing – we just take the merry-go-round round and round until we puke? I really don’t want to believe that, but it’s hard not to wonder.
My mother would say, “that’s just your story until it stops being your story.” None of us wants to become our mothers, but in this way her life is inspiring. She made more mistakes than God, and with each disaster and disappointment, she lifted herself back up again and thought of something else. Can we become new and improved versions of our mothers and be happy with that?
I don’t know why you keep talking to me. I have work to do. Leave me alone.
You see? Is it me or is it the world? – that’s what Marie and I used to ask ourselves, and her life for sure has radically changed. This was way back when she wanted to sleep with about 25 more guys and I just wanted to find a relationship that didn’t feel like an airless closet. Her goal turned out to be more realistic. Now, she’s married. Maybe I’m the one who isn’t ready.
Seriously now, I have to go. I have real work to do with a real deadline. Maybe I’ll take a break and eat something…. My grief diet is wearing thin.
US Military 'Shuts Down' Soldiers' Blogs
t r u t h o u t - US Military 'Shuts Down' Soldiers' Blogs
My whole life I've hoped, even believed, I would have something really important to say. The reminds me of something I figured out a while back: you have to do something to say something important. Yeah, like kill Iraqi children. (But you know what I mean.) And then if you really do have something important to say, of course, others will object to it.
My whole life I've hoped, even believed, I would have something really important to say. The reminds me of something I figured out a while back: you have to do something to say something important. Yeah, like kill Iraqi children. (But you know what I mean.) And then if you really do have something important to say, of course, others will object to it.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Past, "present" and future
I just returned from biking across town to the Legion of Honor where Alison and I saw the earthquake exhibition. They collected old photos of SF from 1906 and then took the same picture again in the same place at the present time. The old photos were super interesting to look at, but the new ones he took didn't impress me especially. My one particular favorite was lunch time at Union Square – they were so similar despite the park redesign and burned out buildings in the background. We followed a docent for a while who said that the obstructed views were meant to be a comment on the crowdedness of the modern world, but it felt to me more like the photographer was being lazy. After all, what's the point of a cityscape if a truck is blocking the view?
I realized several things, like the why South Van Ness has such a beautiful row of Victorians even though it's not a good neighborhood (the fire stopped at SVN and 20th Street) and how few buildings actually survived. The city was practically leveled. I mean, I guess we all knew that, but seeing it visually is something else all together.
Alison came to my house at 11, and we headed across town via the park, thru the rose garden and then down Lake Street. About half way thru the Lake Street portion of the ride, it started to pour rain. I don’t know if it was that rain cloud that follows me (sorry Alison), some other microclimate type of thing, or if it actually rained in the middle of the day today (Sam said it didn’t rain in the Mission, but can we trust him?). We got wet. It kinda sucked. But we did make it successfully to the Legion of Honor (as you already know) and we both had extra clothes to pile on once we got there. We had a little picnic on the south walkway, families with lots of children stepped round our outstretched feet. Then we entered the museum.
Wealthy, perfect mothers with little girls dressed as princesses were everywhere. Was it a convention? No, it was some kind of Cinderella show. We started with the permanent exhibit bc there was a guided tour of the earthquake photos at 1:30, and we thought that might be a good way to see them. We did learn a few things from docent, as mentioned earlier, but she was tired and couldn’t always find the right word. I experience this sometimes too, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stand around her while she remembered Ansel Adams’s name. I’m glad I get enough sleep now.
Actually, I’m a little worried about that. I’ve signed up for 12 units of classes which will keep me busy 2 nights and 2 days a week (not the same ones). Then I’ve got any work I get, the stuff I do for Creative Growth, and training for the AIDS Lifecycle. (I’m an impulsive person. I got the idea, though not for the first time, and signed up, within hours yesterday. I’m really excited about it.) All this means I am going to have to start getting up in the morning at least 3 days a week. And if I’m going to do that, I might as well do it the other 4 days too.
Speaking of not sleeping, last night was my official first night out on the town single, and Brian is my new official wingman. We met at Specs and then went to this Tikki Hut place where 3 different women were celebrating their 35th birthdays, I’d be willing to bet good money I was the only 415er there, and even the beers came with drink umbrellas. It turns out I am uniquely talented at being single (and I’m not just talking about my behavior in the bar that night – I’m thinking maybe I should provide consulting on the subject; another career possibility?). For these reasons, I can report with certainty that my future husband was not at the Tikki Hut last night.
I realized several things, like the why South Van Ness has such a beautiful row of Victorians even though it's not a good neighborhood (the fire stopped at SVN and 20th Street) and how few buildings actually survived. The city was practically leveled. I mean, I guess we all knew that, but seeing it visually is something else all together.
Alison came to my house at 11, and we headed across town via the park, thru the rose garden and then down Lake Street. About half way thru the Lake Street portion of the ride, it started to pour rain. I don’t know if it was that rain cloud that follows me (sorry Alison), some other microclimate type of thing, or if it actually rained in the middle of the day today (Sam said it didn’t rain in the Mission, but can we trust him?). We got wet. It kinda sucked. But we did make it successfully to the Legion of Honor (as you already know) and we both had extra clothes to pile on once we got there. We had a little picnic on the south walkway, families with lots of children stepped round our outstretched feet. Then we entered the museum.
Wealthy, perfect mothers with little girls dressed as princesses were everywhere. Was it a convention? No, it was some kind of Cinderella show. We started with the permanent exhibit bc there was a guided tour of the earthquake photos at 1:30, and we thought that might be a good way to see them. We did learn a few things from docent, as mentioned earlier, but she was tired and couldn’t always find the right word. I experience this sometimes too, but that didn’t mean I wanted to stand around her while she remembered Ansel Adams’s name. I’m glad I get enough sleep now.
Actually, I’m a little worried about that. I’ve signed up for 12 units of classes which will keep me busy 2 nights and 2 days a week (not the same ones). Then I’ve got any work I get, the stuff I do for Creative Growth, and training for the AIDS Lifecycle. (I’m an impulsive person. I got the idea, though not for the first time, and signed up, within hours yesterday. I’m really excited about it.) All this means I am going to have to start getting up in the morning at least 3 days a week. And if I’m going to do that, I might as well do it the other 4 days too.
Speaking of not sleeping, last night was my official first night out on the town single, and Brian is my new official wingman. We met at Specs and then went to this Tikki Hut place where 3 different women were celebrating their 35th birthdays, I’d be willing to bet good money I was the only 415er there, and even the beers came with drink umbrellas. It turns out I am uniquely talented at being single (and I’m not just talking about my behavior in the bar that night – I’m thinking maybe I should provide consulting on the subject; another career possibility?). For these reasons, I can report with certainty that my future husband was not at the Tikki Hut last night.
Friday, January 06, 2006
It sounded better in the movie.
Every few weeks I have a really big day. These big days make me feel happy and excited and optimistic. This might mean that I need more inputs – I’m not self-driven enough for the system I have set up for myself. Living alone, working alone, being alone all the time… I’m just not that much of an introvert.
So, yesterday, I gave my talk at SPUR on London’s Congestion Charging program. It went remarkable well. I didn’t feel boring even once, and people laughed several times. I made eye contact with my audience and sometimes got them to nod. They also seemed to appreciate my ppt, which was comprised primarily of imagines. Dave Snyder thought I had made a mistake when the slide for poor people was that one from Picasso’s blue period.
I finished earlier than I had planned, but that turned out to be good bc the audience had lots of questions about what San Francisco was doing, and Tilly Chang from the SFCTA was there to answer them. About 35 people attended, less than my other 2 big talks where there was closer to 50 people, but likely my best. They provided a huge salad for lunch, and I ate it in Union Square next to a woman and her toddler and a man who kept trying to shoot pictures of me.
In high spirits, I went from there to return Eric’s xmas gifts to Macy’s. That went well too, although I felt a moment of sadness afterwards. I have to remind myself that we may assign things heavy emotional content, but they are just the ghost of that content. They aren’t the actual emotion – if it’s real, it can’t be returned for store credit.
Then I returned to the same building but a different floor and looked thru the databases at the Foundation Center to fund a project I’m doing with Creative Growth. It was incredibly time consuming, but I guess that’s the name of the game. I got thru the “M”s, picking about 13 funding sources that may be interested in my project, and then I had to get out. Of course, after I left, I realized that there would have been a much more efficient way for me to do it. But I guess all of life is waste and learning…. And it’s particularly wonderful when the lesson is clear.
I LOVE the mochas at Madeline’s; so, I went there next. Then I planned to window shop for a bit, except that my mother called to say she was on her way over to my house. So, I took my fancy coffee drink and got on the BART for home.
Mom brought me one of Judy’s sculptures. I haven’t figured out where it’s going to go yet in my house. I chose this one bc it has colors I seem to be irrationally attracted to. These colors are bright and seem like they should clash, but they don’t. It has red and dark green and light green and orange and pink and purple. The fibers include the usual yarn but also gauze and strips of fabric with floral patterns. She wrapped in a bicycle tire around several poster tubes. I can’t tell if it’s figurative.
I wanted to put it upright, but I’m not sure I have the space. It might end up horizontal above my bed. (I’m still seriously considering putting my bed in the walk-in closet, and that would still work.) Wow! I just realized that I’m getting to have a pretty good art collection between Judy, my grandmother, my aunt Wendy, my sister’s ex-boyfriend Marc, and, well, myself. …All world-class artists, though some more recognized than others…. :-)
Anyway, mom and I went for papusas, and then she decided she was so tired she had to go to her friend’s house and to bed. Not sure if that’s what happened. I stayed up and watched “The Hot Chick” on TV, which I totally loved. Of course, I cried all the way thru it, and it inspired me too. Yeah, true love is based on deep friendship and everyone should be accepted for who they are…. OK, fine, it sounded better in the movie.
So, yesterday, I gave my talk at SPUR on London’s Congestion Charging program. It went remarkable well. I didn’t feel boring even once, and people laughed several times. I made eye contact with my audience and sometimes got them to nod. They also seemed to appreciate my ppt, which was comprised primarily of imagines. Dave Snyder thought I had made a mistake when the slide for poor people was that one from Picasso’s blue period.
I finished earlier than I had planned, but that turned out to be good bc the audience had lots of questions about what San Francisco was doing, and Tilly Chang from the SFCTA was there to answer them. About 35 people attended, less than my other 2 big talks where there was closer to 50 people, but likely my best. They provided a huge salad for lunch, and I ate it in Union Square next to a woman and her toddler and a man who kept trying to shoot pictures of me.
In high spirits, I went from there to return Eric’s xmas gifts to Macy’s. That went well too, although I felt a moment of sadness afterwards. I have to remind myself that we may assign things heavy emotional content, but they are just the ghost of that content. They aren’t the actual emotion – if it’s real, it can’t be returned for store credit.
Then I returned to the same building but a different floor and looked thru the databases at the Foundation Center to fund a project I’m doing with Creative Growth. It was incredibly time consuming, but I guess that’s the name of the game. I got thru the “M”s, picking about 13 funding sources that may be interested in my project, and then I had to get out. Of course, after I left, I realized that there would have been a much more efficient way for me to do it. But I guess all of life is waste and learning…. And it’s particularly wonderful when the lesson is clear.
I LOVE the mochas at Madeline’s; so, I went there next. Then I planned to window shop for a bit, except that my mother called to say she was on her way over to my house. So, I took my fancy coffee drink and got on the BART for home.
Mom brought me one of Judy’s sculptures. I haven’t figured out where it’s going to go yet in my house. I chose this one bc it has colors I seem to be irrationally attracted to. These colors are bright and seem like they should clash, but they don’t. It has red and dark green and light green and orange and pink and purple. The fibers include the usual yarn but also gauze and strips of fabric with floral patterns. She wrapped in a bicycle tire around several poster tubes. I can’t tell if it’s figurative.
I wanted to put it upright, but I’m not sure I have the space. It might end up horizontal above my bed. (I’m still seriously considering putting my bed in the walk-in closet, and that would still work.) Wow! I just realized that I’m getting to have a pretty good art collection between Judy, my grandmother, my aunt Wendy, my sister’s ex-boyfriend Marc, and, well, myself. …All world-class artists, though some more recognized than others…. :-)
Anyway, mom and I went for papusas, and then she decided she was so tired she had to go to her friend’s house and to bed. Not sure if that’s what happened. I stayed up and watched “The Hot Chick” on TV, which I totally loved. Of course, I cried all the way thru it, and it inspired me too. Yeah, true love is based on deep friendship and everyone should be accepted for who they are…. OK, fine, it sounded better in the movie.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Judging a society... or a person
Nelson Mandella said you can judge a society by how it treats its children.
Winston Churchill said you can judge a society by how it treats its prisoners.
The idea being, I guess, that how a society treats its more vulnerable or its (extreme) non-conformists shows its level of humanity. Or maybe it's about how a society protects itself and prepares for its future. We can extrapolate from that how we can judge our own humanity. I think you can judge a person (or yourself) by how they treat the people who love them (you).
Winston Churchill said you can judge a society by how it treats its prisoners.
The idea being, I guess, that how a society treats its more vulnerable or its (extreme) non-conformists shows its level of humanity. Or maybe it's about how a society protects itself and prepares for its future. We can extrapolate from that how we can judge our own humanity. I think you can judge a person (or yourself) by how they treat the people who love them (you).
Asking for what you want
My mother left my father when I was very small and she moved into a house with 2 other single mothers and their daughters. It was near where Berkeley Bowl is now. I was 2; Jana was 3; and Giya was 1. All their stories are interesting, but we'll save them for another time. My mother and I came home after being out all day long, and my mother asked me, "are you hungry?"
I nodded yes.
"What would you like to eat?" she asked me.
"Hanger," I declared.
Of course, this couldn't be right. So, she asked me again and I repeated the same word, several times. We both became increasingly frustrated. Finally, she went into her closet and brought me a wire hanger. I threw myself on the floor sobbing like only a 2-year-old can do.
At this point we were making so much noise that other members of the house came downstairs to see what was going on. My mother explained the situation to Jana and her mother.
"What do you want to eat?" Jana intervened.
"Hanger!" I repeated between sobs when I could get a breath.
"She wants a hamburger." She informed my mother and hers.
So, you can see that I've been honing my skills at asking for exactly what I want since I was very small. I'm much better at it now.
I nodded yes.
"What would you like to eat?" she asked me.
"Hanger," I declared.
Of course, this couldn't be right. So, she asked me again and I repeated the same word, several times. We both became increasingly frustrated. Finally, she went into her closet and brought me a wire hanger. I threw myself on the floor sobbing like only a 2-year-old can do.
At this point we were making so much noise that other members of the house came downstairs to see what was going on. My mother explained the situation to Jana and her mother.
"What do you want to eat?" Jana intervened.
"Hanger!" I repeated between sobs when I could get a breath.
"She wants a hamburger." She informed my mother and hers.
So, you can see that I've been honing my skills at asking for exactly what I want since I was very small. I'm much better at it now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
