Another Classical Crush

Yesterday, Sultan, Julie and I went to see Opera in Dolores Park. They performed an assortment of great pieces including Mozart, Verdi, Rossini, Wagner, and Gershwin. The result, for me, was soul clensing. Sultan got us VIP seats because he works for one of the media sponsors.

I make no secret of my crush on Joshua Bell the famous violinist. But when Luca Pisaroni stepped on stage I rustled with my program: "Who's that!?" and placed a little heart next to his name on the program. Then, of course, Sultan wrote "Lilia Pisaroni", and Julie wrote "Luca + Lilia = true love forever" and placed a heart around it. Yeah, my friends are clever.

Other favorites were Oren Gradus looking and sounding frighteningly furious as he sang Il lacerato spirito (Simin Boccanegra), and Twyla Robinson singing Sombre foret (William Tell) with anxious excitement. Of course, Susan Graham continued to earn her reputation and Grammy. But all the artists were wonderful.

Luca wore glasses and a blue velvet jacket that was a nice indirect metaphor for the fine texture of his voice. The weather was cold -- it even misted on us throughout the performance. The singers drank hot liquid between sets and many performed with their necks completely engolfed in warm scarves. I continue to be inspired by San Franciscans, yesterday because thousands sat in the near-rain to listen to a little Opera.

Getting Upset

This woman at the gallery started yelling at me for, what seemed to me to be, no reason. I asked her not to yell at me. I told her I understood her point of view, and I did, but this isn't the first time she's yelled at me like that, and I still didn't think she was right to do that the first time either. The first time I apologised and went home and cried because I'm not used to being yelled at and was feeling rather fragile. I wasn't feeling fragile today. I was feeling like she's psycho, and I needed to get away from her.

All this reminded me of something Gabriel recently told me about dealing with conflict. He suggested meeting every upset with a request. My request to her was that she not yell at me. I'm shocked that I actually did something right! But then, I think about other conflicts I've had over the last year (I don't have conflicts very often). Gabe suggested that I could have reacted to a recent "relationship" conflict I had by requesting that he "think about my feelings when he frames saying what he's needing," and perhaps that he could have framed it in a more positive way.

He hit on something there. If this woman had approached me with her concern from a more positive place, I would have had a much more positive reaction to her. When I had that conflict with that boy, I did react positively. I said OK. To which he became upset.

My friend Sultan was just telling me about a woman he knows who's spending tons of money on dating services, but clearly won't meet anyone because she spends too much energy protecting herself. I'm no perfect angel, and I make lots of mistakes. I always feel a little sheepish when I present a social concept that I feel like I finally understand, something I have had an "aha!" moment about.

Here are a few things I've figure out about resolving conflict:
* Approach the issue with an open mind about what the solution might be
* Make requests
* Freeze your anger/frustration/irritation/fear -- don't let it drive your reactions or the conversation
* Brainstorm with the other person about possible solutions -- neither one of you has the right to dictate what the solution should be; You need to figure it out together.
* Keep the goal in mind whether it's to get along, to love each other, or to stay in business and make money.

Wish me luck following them!

Profanity

It’s Saturday, and I’m feeling lazy. I decided not to go sailing, to instead stay home and play with toes, examine my navel, do those things that usually ultimately make me unhappy. But my throat has a tickle. I’m tired. I’m behind in several projects. So, here I am.

One of those projects, though a lesser one, is listening to my podcasts. I like to know what’s happening in the world. My friends told me that language about removing the troops from Iraq did not make it to the president’s desk – that the Democrats wimped out – but I had no idea what else was happening. I’ve been puttering around my apartment, drinking tea and eating apple crisp from apples left over from our energizer station and catching up. Slate podcasts used profanity more than once in 2 different podcasts. At first I didn’t realize they were both Slate podcasts, but I looked at the screen, and yes indeedy. Why is it suddenly OK to say “fuck”?

I have a theory. On the gabfest, the gabbers make no bones about being avid HBO watchers. Nearly every episode they make some observation about some tv show. I watched Sex and the City and Six Feet Under, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that the shows do not shy from using profanity. You’re raised not to use certain words; so, you use them to make sure people listen and understand the gravity of what you say. This mechanism has transcended fictional entertainment and now our intellectual media is using it to make their own emphases.

Words are just words. There’s a certain “c” word that I am particularly fond of, but if we begin using them every day, will the sky fall in like it did on Chicken Little? You can say that we shouldn’t use these words because their origin is of disrespect, of belittling human functions and body parts, even powerful acts of Love. You could also argue that things only become really bad if you ignore them, like STDs, sweep them under the carpet.

My sister said that she doesn’t use profanity around her children because she doesn’t want her children using profanity around people who don’t know that she’s a nice person. There is something really icky about a 2-year old saying “fuck”. Maybe because they don’t know what the word means, and innocence is kind of a nice thing to have while you can.

A little voice in my head says that Slate is casting “fuck” to see how we’ll react to it. I don’t pretend to be a great intellectual or even very politically astute. But what I think is interesting is the way social attitudes can change over time, like with smoking and soon driving, maybe the prohibition on profanity is also fading out. People probably don’t listen to Slate with their kids. Freedom of speech is one of the original rights granted with the formation of our country.

On the other hand, what’s the long-term goal of using profanity? Well, it will ultimately necessitate finding new words to strengthen our language as the old ones become common. Or maybe if all words are acceptable, it will necessitate using words more carefully and skillfully to make and emphasize our points. I’d like that.

(YouTube) Awesome

RX RE: AGs, NSA

Hell in the Hallway

I received this quote in a spam email about preventing heart attack in women.
"Whenever God Closes One Door He Always Opens Another, Even Though Sometimes It's Hell in the Hallway!"

People hate change. It's a fact. Last night, I was out with some friends, and one suggested I recall all the great sex I had with an ex. "No way, dude. I just got off the floor, stopped crying all the time, and started eating again. I can't afford it." Without that one variable, I feel so much better off! But there sure was Hell in that Hallway.

I had a breakfast date last weekend. He's a nice guy, but it was a no go. My friends don't always understand these things, but I think it's just because they love me and really really want something in particular for me. I don't blame them for not trusting me with myself -- I barely trust myself with myself anymore. I need to stay on task!

But, anyway, that guy took a group of inner-city 7th graders camping last week. He told me a story about one girl who said she would have a "nervous breakdown" if she couldn't check her email. He didn't ask her what email she was expecting. But I've had those thoughts -- panic from not keeping up with my email, not keeping up with my friends.

In fact, I've fallen rather behind over the last week or so with Bike-to-Work Day. And my art started selling; so, I desperately needed to make more. I developed the wrong attitude towards my social life -- that it wasn't necessary. I forgot how much I need it to be happy. When I felt unhappy, I had to think for a while to remember why and what I could do to fix the problem.

My instinct tells me to sit at home and examine my navel. I have learned from experience that that sort of behavior is destructive. So, I must summon the big guns to get myself to a cafe, return calls and emails, and chat with random strangers.

I played Foosball for the first time at the Bike-Away-from-Work Party last week. It turned out one of our competitors works for my company. He said he had my business card taped to his monitor. I'm like a celebrity! Next thing I knew, he's emailing me asking for all kinds of things I said at the party I could get him. I should never talk to people. No seriously, the party turned out to be rather useful. I should bill for that time.

So, yeah, I'm in a room now and out of the hallway. I don't know what the purpose of this room is yet, but it feels OK right at this moment. That's the best I can ask for, I guess.

What every ____ should ____

I’ve been wondering why we have a list of things women should have and do and not men. Who *would* have a list like that?
What every artist should have tried or mastered (paint, charcoal, etchings, sculpture...) What every artist should have seen in person (the Mona Lisa or whatever)
What every writer should have read and be able to emulate
What every person should have figured out before they reproduce
What every musician should know/have heard
What every poet should be able to recite
…Accountant…
…Lawyer…
…Teacher…
…Architect …
…

But the idea of having a list for men seems rather odd. Is this because the delicate nature of the woman is like the artist, is a skill? Is that because women are an “other” a “minority” despite representing more than half the population? I believe it’s because we have higher standards for women. Women must have better social skills? Women must have better personal hygiene? Women must prove their competence at work?

Maybe “must” is too strong of a word. But I think as a society we are more forgiving of men. I have observed some truth to the old adage (I don’t remember how it goes, but the gist is) “a woman has to be twice as good to have half the reputation of a man” and half the battle is confidence….

We look for wisdom in every crack and shadow. Another favorite quote from a boy I was dating during a fight: “there are a lot of ways to be wrong.” I don’t really think every woman should have a black lace bra. I don’t have one, and I didn’t consider it worth mentioning.

The converse of that is that you can find truth in nearly everything of you squint your eyes in just the right way. For example, maybe every woman doesn’t need a black lace bra, but every woman should own her own sexiness, should know how to make herself feel sexy, and should have the equipment on hand. It might be a bra, her favorite song, a certain kind of light, or something she does with her hair.

There are a lot of things we all should be: sexy, competent, self-sufficient…. I mean, I know what I want to be, and I know what I want the people close to me to be. What I don’t want is someone else telling what I can or should be even in a constructive or loving way. If I’m doing something that doesn’t work for you, why not look at what need of yours isn’t being met by my action? After all, other people don’t change. Each of us can only control ourselves.

So, I feel a little embarrassed having prescribed what every woman should have and know. I mean, I didn’t write it, but I posted it. I only know what I want to have and know, and by extension, what I imagine other women like me want to have and know. But I really hope that by posting that I’m not giving everyone else permission to make sweeping generalizations about how women ought to be or something like that. Because it’s exactly that kind of thinking that gives me a profound feeling of claustrophobia.

The part of that email that I keep quoting is the first line: “...one old love she can imagine going back to...And one who reminds her how far she has come.” The reason for that is that I hear a lot of women expressing confusion about this issue, and I don’t hear a lot of “wisdom” going around recognizing that past relationships do involve regrets, that some things are never completely resolved for us emotionally, and that living with questions is life.

My friend Gabe (who, incidentally, is really hard on me) recently invited me to a weekend retreat on giving your 100%. He was going, and he wanted some friends to come with him. I declined because I don’t believe I have a problem with “yes”. I have a problem with “no” and “maybe”, but I’m pretty good with giving my 100% when I encounter a “yes”. He agreed that it might not be the right workshop for me. Next time.

Every woman should have and know

I have found myself quoting this spam email more than once lately, and that's usually a sign that I should post it to my blog and discuss it. Reading through it now, I mostly have this covered. I mean, my drill has a cord, my dishes don't match by choice (it's an artist thing), my "good furniture" isn't all that, and my "satisfying relationship" is with my friends and family... or, more importantly, with myself, but you get the idea. Enjoy:

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
...one old love she can imagine going back to...And one who reminds her how far she has come.
...enough money within her control to move out and rent a place of her own...even if she never wants to and needs to.
...something perfect to wear if the employer or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour.
...a youth she's content to leave behind.
...a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to retelling it in her old age.
...the realization that she is actually going to have an old age and some money set aside to fund it.
...a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.
...one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry.
...a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family.
...eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems, and a recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored.
...a resume that is not even the slightest bit padded.
...a feeling of control over her destiny.
...a skin care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing ....a solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better after 30.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW
...how to fall in love without losing herself.
...how she feels about having kids.
...how to quit a job, break up with a lover, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
...when to try harder... and when to walk away.
...how to have a good time at a party she'd never choose to attend.
...how to ask for what she wants in a way that makes it most likely she'll get it.
...that she can't change the length of her calves, the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents.
...that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over.
...what she would and wouldn't do for love or more.
...how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it.
...whom she can trust, whom she can't, and why she shouldn't take it personally.
...where to go... be it to her best friend's kitchen table... or a charming inn in the woods... when her soul needs soothing.
...what she can and can't accomplish in a day.. a month... and a year...

Oxygen supplies for India police

BBC: Police stations across the Indian city of Calcutta have been equipped with oxygen devices to enable police to offset the effects of pollution.

Sesame Street Test

Your Score: Elmo

You scored 47% Organization, 73% abstract, and 67% extroverted!

This test measured 3 variables.

First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean.

Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type.

Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself.

You are mostly organized, more abstract, and more extroverted.

Most people either love or hate Elmo. I hope you love Elmo, because that's who you are.

You are both somewhat organized. You have a good idea where you put things and you probably keep your place reasonably clean. You aren't totally obsessed with neatness though. Elmo has the same basic approach. His place is pretty tidy, but he doesn't spend all of his time cleaning it up.


You both are abstract thinkers. You definitely are not afraid to take chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough to get by. Elmo's whole life is based on fantasy and his imagination. In the beginning he was a regular character, but now he spends most of his time in this fantasy world.


You are both extroverts. Elmo likes to talk talk talk. He'll talk with people, goldfish, tables, whatever. Without interaction with others he gets very sad. You definitely enjoy the company of others, and you don't have problems meeting new people... in fact you probably look forward to it. You are willing to take charge when necessary or work as part of a team.

The other possible characters are
Oscar the Grouch
Big Bird
Cookie Monster
Ernie
Snuffleupagus
Kermit the Frog
Grover
The Count
Guy Smiley
Bert

Link: The Your SESAME STREET Persona Test written by greencowsgomoo on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

I'm a "pure nerd."

73 % Nerd, 17% Geek, 17% Dork

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.

I'm Izzie.

Two things you should know:
1) I'm sitting at the gallery this evening, and it can be incredibly boring. Fortunately, I have my computer and the wifi is working.
2) I love Grey's Anatomy. I no longer have a TV; so, I don't get to watch the current season. But I can't wait for it to come out on DVD. Don't give anything away!

So, I was checking when season 3 might be released on DVD, and I discovered a "which character are you?" quiz on the show's web site. I tested as Izzie, which is no real surprise since I bake, am rather impulsive, and like my friends. Tyler asked me yesterday who my favorite character is. I hadn't really thought about it before, but I answered without a pause "George" (hopefully still) Izzie's best friend.

Take the test, and tell me your type. :-)

Another one

The year must have been 1979, and my sister was about to turn 3. “Are you ready for your birthday?” my mother asked her.
Ilana looked surprised for a moment and then her face broadened and began to glow – she remembered her birthday the year before. “You mean I get to have another one?”
My mother says she likes to live every day this way: “You mean I get another one?”

Living for Fish

When my mother was a teenager, she spent her summers in Gloucester, MA. Every year, she worked some kind of job there, usually waiting tables, but sometimes cleaning houses. One year, she packed whiting fish. When the fish were running, she would work a double ship – 16 hours of packing frozen fish.

The heads were already off, but it was her job to scoop out the guts with one hand while lifting the fish into the packing crate with her other. She packed them into ice, and her hands would go numb. She was allowed a few short breaks, and she would sit outside and have an apple while tourists took photographs of this college girl from Cincinnati all covered in fish scales from her summer job.

At the end of the day, fish scales would have dried all over her arms. She wasn’t allowed back in the house where she stayed until after to used the outdoor shower and changed her clothes. Her clothes were not allowed inside either. She had nightmares about the fish scales on her arms slowly causing her to turn into a fish.

Maybe she wasn’t a very good fish-packer. One day her boss yelled at her “If you don’t live for fish, you shouldn’t be there!” She accepted his suggestion and quit.

Yesterday, Saturday, at 10 a.m. work called, literally. They needed some PR questions answered, and I answered them happily. Unlike my mother that summer, I live for fish.

Sweetness and other disasters

Tonight, I received the invitation to my highschool sweetheart's wedding. It was hand-written and included transparent red paper and a blue feather. The envelope contained a strange penned figure on its seal.

We were together for less than 2 years, but he loved me like crazy from 1987 to about 1994. He doesn't love me like that anymore, and I'm almost OK with that. I think I have too much vinegar in my personality for him to take. Also, I think I just expect too much of him. He can't live up to it, and he doesn't want to try. I respect that about him.

As far as I know, this my first former boyfriend to get married. Maybe it does take them a decade or so to recover from a relationship with me. Maybe I'm just attracted to committment-phobes. Maybe it really is all about me -- maybe I'm afraid to commit.

Project I am the love of my own life
Step 1: what do I get from others and how can I give that to myself

Exciting and new ways to be wrong

I sometimes think about Paris. It's not a surprise since I have dish towels with maps of Paris on them. I long for Paris in the most cliche way, and yet when I think about being there I feel a huge sadness. Maybe I have felt most sad in Paris than anywhere else. I think it's the weather.

Tonight I went OUT. A good friend of a good friend was playing in a band at the Rickshaw Stop. I like this venue! It scaled really well, and felt clean and hip at the same time. Gorgeous women danced to gypsy jazz/tango cabaret and new orleans jazz in little outfits. It was all so glamous and inspiring I forgot to feel lonely for a while. I left before my friend's band started.

I'm in a bit of a funk. Everything is going incredibly well, and yet I still feel inadequate at the slightest setback. Maybe I'm not getting enough water.

Gabe says that I suggested that he make a list of qualities he wants in a partner. Kristin keeps suggesting this idea to me, but it seems too clinical. But what I apparently suggested to Gabe is to make this list, then narrow it down to the top 5, and then become for oneself those top 5 characteristics. I try so hard to do this that I exhaust myself. Hmm... maybe I'm just tired.

Things Happening

I do a lot of stuff. I make art. I sail. I work really hard at my job. I keep abreast of current culture. I'm wildly social, and I date. Both keeping up with my friends and having fun are very important to me. But sometimes I just get really tired. At those times, I really wish something dramatic and positive would happen to me without me having to do anything to make it happen. I want it in a desperate and unproductive way. But, since I'm done trying to change myself for now, I'm looking forward to accepting that feeling when it happens and letting go of wondering what's the matter with me.

Hairy People

Annahita has a salon in Berkeley near Ashby BART -- she is the best waxer I know. I have her do my eyebrows. I used to have her do my legs and bikini until I found a much cheaper options in SF. But Annahita's prices are right too.

I love her not only because of the value of her services, but also because every time I see her, she kisses me and tells me how beautiful I am over and over. She has the most wonderful accent. She says that God must really love me to make me so beautiful. Money can't buy those kinds of compliments -- they have to come from a person with a gift for them!

Yesterday, she did my eyebrows for the first time in a while. They needed it desperately. I don't remember exactly what she said, but she was talking about doing something dangerous, and she "I can't do that because what would all the hairy people do? The hairy people need me!"

Belly Button Rings

My life continues to amaze me.

For example, I had another gallery opening yesterday. I told a few of my friends about it, and one thing led to another. I didn't encourage everyone to stay, but we still ended up with 9 people at dinner after the party ended (10 pm). Incidentally, I've already sold 2 pieces -- newish ones -- which have been up less than a week!

My coworker has this friend, a guy who works for our company. She's told me he always asks if women (he hasn't met yet) are "hot". I asked her what this meant to him, and she said, "he's into breasts." So, I tell myself, that means he's not going to think I'm hot. Good to know. So, half way thru the night, my coworker tells me that her friend thinks I'm adorable. I say: "but he's into breasts."
She says: "I think he really likes your photography, and it changed the way he sees you."

So, they had this friend who was having a "party" which turned out to mean 6 people drinking on their living room. OK. I don't remember how it came up, but it turned out that every other woman there had a belly button ring. I don't have one. I have tattoo on my ass, but no belly button ring. Long ago, I learned that my belly button has a perfect "shelf" for a ring, but I have no desire for one. They tried to convince me that I should get one. "It's just not me," I said.

We danced, and it was super fun.

Sailing today was fantastic. It was Tyler's Birthday, and we had a beer afterward to celebrate (and bc we like it).

I then met Julie and her friend Cynthia to see a dance performance at Zellerbach Hall. Sylvie Guillem and Akram Kham did a dance they called "Sacred Monsters" that was sort of a hybrid of ballet and classical Indian dance. The music, instruments and singing, was also performed on stage. I want to read the program and say something really profound about it, but for now I will just say that it was borderline life changing.

Akram spent some time talking about how he can dance as Shiva considering that Shiva had hair and Akram is completely bald. My favorite part was when Akram did these various dance movements and asked if each one was right -- it was so poignant to think of all the decisions we make in our lives, wonder if they are the right one, when really every little thing is just a decision without value. They are "right" because they are.

London's Oyster Card

The shuttle was 10 minutes late this evening; so, I got to chatting with this lovely young man who recently transfered from the London office. He lives in SF without a car too! (Incidentally, he's also like 12.) Anyway, the reason I'm telling you this is because he said that when London first came out with their Oyster Card for public transit, people were so excited that they took photos of themselves with their Oyster Cards and sent them around to all their friends. How cute is that!

Taylor Hicks

I love Taylor Hicks. It might be because he looks like Grayson (but Grayson is better looking). I'm not even an American Idol fan. Taylor was at work today. I tried to catch his eye to see if he would make out with me in the corner, but he was too busy singing and signing autographs. Next time!

Sue Grafton

I learned today that Sue Grafton began writing her enormously successful murder mystery novels in response to anger at her husband:
"She got the idea for her first mystery novel while she was in the middle of a custody battle with her second husband. She started fantasizing about murdering him, but she said, "I knew I couldn't pull it off. So I decided to just put this in a book and get paid for it." She took five years to write the novel, and she spent a lot of that time researching things such as insurance fraud, toxicology, how to pick a lock, and how to handle a gun. She finally published the book in 1982 as "A" Is for Alibi, and it was a huge success." -The Writers' Almanac
Talk about constructive channeling of destructive forces!

When I had my first humilation (that felt like heartbreak, but I wasn't ready yet for that!) in college, I began running. I imagined each stomp of my foot on to the earth to be squashing his head. I ended up with shin splints. (I would give that an "A" for effort anyway.)

I think the humor intended in my last post may not have been completely transparent. That said, I've been thinking more about my own capacity for change, and I realized that I've actually changed a lot. For example, I used to think that if I just waited long enough and wished hard enough that I could make someone love me who doesn't. I must have thought I was fundimentally Lovable that time might make that clear to others. I still have little jokes I like to say along these lines ("Have you SEEN me?") but I also know that it doesn't make anything better to try to convince someone to love me. In fact, it messes with the power dynamic in a destructive way, and nobody wins.

Believe it or not, I'm kind of tired of talking about relationships. I want off this pony ride. My dolly is tired of this game....