Last night, we met in Dolores Park. I had forgotten it was Dyke March Day; the park was a mad house. I think only Sultan was really pleased with the situation. But before long, the mob left for the march, and we settled into a pleasant picnic looking over the city's skyline.
Consistent with the day's theme, we discussed our own sexual preferences... certainly to Sultan's delight (the rest of the group was ladies). The air turned cold as it likes to along the northern Californian coast... just another beautiful day in San Francisco.
Then, we sort of accidentally went to The Liberties at Guerrero and 22nd because I wanted to try their fish and chips. They were OK. The chips had flecks of parsley on them. The cole slaw tasted of horseradish. But the fish pieces were rather small, unimpressive (I would have rathered one bigger, meatier piece rather than 3 small), and their batter coating uninspired. I did like it that the serving was not too big, and that the waiter brought us extra sauce. I like this pub for it's decor, lack of a crowd, and pleasant atmosphere.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Thought Snack, "The End of Mr. Y" by Scarlett Thomas
Before I begin, this book probably requires a synopsis. The End of Mr. Y by Scarlett Thomas is about a literature PhD student who finds a rare book that describes how to enter the world of consciousness (the Troposphere) where you can surf minds and emotions through time and space.
Quotes from the book:
“Not only is nothing good or ill but thinking makes it so, but nothing is at all except in so far as thinking has made it so.” -Samuel Butler
But the ground shakes, as if something’s trying to push up from below, and I think about other people’s mother’s shaking their duvets or even god shaking out the fabric of space-time…. Pg. 3
There’s something so sad about broken concrete. Pg. 5
“…But I quite like the way you can talk about science without necessarily using mathematics but using metaphors instead. That’s how I’ve been approaching all my columns. For each of these ideas and theories, you find there’s a little story that goes with it.” Pg. 23
…he was so depressed he couldn’t bring himself to kill himself. I became worried and started doing small, life-enhancing things for him such as making soup and offering to bring him books…. For ages he said yes to soup but no to the books, but recently he’s been asking for poetry…. Pg. 28
(that all sounds frightening familiar.)
To paraphrase the physicist Wolfgang Pauli, she wasn’t even wrong. Maybe that’s where human society is now, at the beginning of the 21st century: not even wrong. Pg. 34
They taught me that everything you are told by anyone is a lie. But then it turned out that they lied, too. Pg. 35
(like the paradox of the guards at the 2 trailheads….)
I sit up in bed slowly, feeling the disappointment trickle away like puddles after a rain shower….I hate the honesty of morning; the time before your consciousness switches on the light and gets rid of all the shadows. Yuck. But my coffee’s OK. Pg. 36
(again, way too familiar… and now I don’t even drink coffee.)
It’s the kind of thing I do when I should be working: write labels on shampoo bottles, iron jeans, think about seagulls. Pg. 153
(ditto… in fact the reason I type these up is because they are so familiar…)
“Am I invisible?” I say to the bartender. “Can you see me?” …I…eyeball her enough to make her play three wrong notes in a bar. Well, I think they were wrong. The whole world seems the wrong way up now. Why am I here? Pg. 180
If I cry then it’s all over. All the adrenaline will wash away and I think adrenaline is all I’ve got left. Pg. 209
“connecting with other people; losing yourself in them; becoming ‘at one.’ It’s hell. Who said that hell is other people?”
“Satre.”
“He’s right. I didn’t realize: ripping out your soul and offering to share it around isn’t at all like giving Communion, or taking some old clothes to the charity shop. It’s like going into the park at night and taking off all your clothes and waiting to be pissed on.” Pg. 220
(What he described sounds to me like falling in love.)
“I tried being ‘normal’: drinking and swearing. It was quite fun. But now I’m not sure who I am. I use this word ‘I’ and I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where it begins and ends. I don’t even know what it’s made of.” Pg. 221
But being pleased with myself won’t do. I should be nothing with myself. I want void. Idiot: I can’t want void. I have to let it come to me. Pg. 271
“What exactly is God going to do with them?” I ask.
“Free them,” Adam says. “Make them properly dead.”
“Can God do that?” I ask.
Adam nods. “He may not have created everything, but he’s good as a manager.” Pg. 368
I like the idea of a fluid consciousness – that you can change all sorts of aspects of the past and present, but it all just comes out the way it comes out. There are no butterflies flapping their wings, there’s just what happens. It’s not a fatalistic book at all, the opposite, in fact. The main character is able to choose a variety of ways for her life to unfold and it just doesn’t matter to anyone but those closest to her. She’s not saving the world; she’s just saving herself a few people she cares about. Well, she’s also saving humanity. She’s saving the ability to know.
In the book, god(s) is (are) the collection of human thought, attention. I think belief systems are whatever people find that they need to get by. Life is incredibly beautiful and painful, disappointing and inspired. We use belief so that it doesn’t drive us mad. Does it create these gods in this other world? It seems a bit literal, but OK.
The Christian emphasis of the book made me a little uncomfortable. There were multiple gods (a.k.a. saints), but the Christian God dominated it all. I don’t want to give away the ending, but the ending left me a little sour with its biblicalness.
What excited me most in the book is empathy. In Hitchhikers’, the woman doesn’t need the empathy gun because she is already a woman so she is already able to conceptualize what another person thinks and feels. This book, written by a woman, takes a slightly more complicated, and real, approach. The main character is already empathetic, but through experiencing others’ consciousnesses (and surfing them), she literally has another’s feelings. That’s bigger than just imagining how someone might feel.
The Troposphere also has the possibility to ride a particular emotion to a different time or place. That blew my mind. I don’t actually believe that every time we experience a certain emotion is linked up anywhere – I don’t think the brain is that smart. But trying to work that out is a fun thought snack.
Language is another thing – the narrator is able to conceptualize the Troposphere as functioning like a computer but also as the manifestation of language. I like language too, but it’s just a tool, a means to an end. I got the idea from the book that the author sees language as being something bigger than that – that it’s a world in itself or at least that it creates one. Maybe my relationship with language is limited, or maybe I’m undervaluing language, but I see it more as the narrow place between two dramatic canyons, my consciousness and yours.
I have been guilty of seeing my present as temporary, and marginal, to some greater situation I’ll discover in the future. As a pre-teen, I wanted to be an actress, but the main theater I ever did was our little production of Alice in Wonderland where I laughed instead of reciting my lines as the Gryphon. (I also played the Red Queen and the Mad Hatter, parts I took much more seriously.) Early in high school, I was still saying I was going to be an actress, and a friend asked if the feeling I claimed to get from being on stage I know about from Alice. I lied and said that I had done more serious productions. That’s how I feel about language. But the bigger point I’m trying to make is a bit bland but I’ll say it anyway: this is it. This is what we get, life, not language or the future. Experience life with everything you’ve got, and that’s what it will give back you.
Quotes from the book:
“Not only is nothing good or ill but thinking makes it so, but nothing is at all except in so far as thinking has made it so.” -Samuel Butler
But the ground shakes, as if something’s trying to push up from below, and I think about other people’s mother’s shaking their duvets or even god shaking out the fabric of space-time…. Pg. 3
There’s something so sad about broken concrete. Pg. 5
“…But I quite like the way you can talk about science without necessarily using mathematics but using metaphors instead. That’s how I’ve been approaching all my columns. For each of these ideas and theories, you find there’s a little story that goes with it.” Pg. 23
…he was so depressed he couldn’t bring himself to kill himself. I became worried and started doing small, life-enhancing things for him such as making soup and offering to bring him books…. For ages he said yes to soup but no to the books, but recently he’s been asking for poetry…. Pg. 28
(that all sounds frightening familiar.)
To paraphrase the physicist Wolfgang Pauli, she wasn’t even wrong. Maybe that’s where human society is now, at the beginning of the 21st century: not even wrong. Pg. 34
They taught me that everything you are told by anyone is a lie. But then it turned out that they lied, too. Pg. 35
(like the paradox of the guards at the 2 trailheads….)
I sit up in bed slowly, feeling the disappointment trickle away like puddles after a rain shower….I hate the honesty of morning; the time before your consciousness switches on the light and gets rid of all the shadows. Yuck. But my coffee’s OK. Pg. 36
(again, way too familiar… and now I don’t even drink coffee.)
It’s the kind of thing I do when I should be working: write labels on shampoo bottles, iron jeans, think about seagulls. Pg. 153
(ditto… in fact the reason I type these up is because they are so familiar…)
“Am I invisible?” I say to the bartender. “Can you see me?” …I…eyeball her enough to make her play three wrong notes in a bar. Well, I think they were wrong. The whole world seems the wrong way up now. Why am I here? Pg. 180
If I cry then it’s all over. All the adrenaline will wash away and I think adrenaline is all I’ve got left. Pg. 209
“connecting with other people; losing yourself in them; becoming ‘at one.’ It’s hell. Who said that hell is other people?”
“Satre.”
“He’s right. I didn’t realize: ripping out your soul and offering to share it around isn’t at all like giving Communion, or taking some old clothes to the charity shop. It’s like going into the park at night and taking off all your clothes and waiting to be pissed on.” Pg. 220
(What he described sounds to me like falling in love.)
“I tried being ‘normal’: drinking and swearing. It was quite fun. But now I’m not sure who I am. I use this word ‘I’ and I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where it begins and ends. I don’t even know what it’s made of.” Pg. 221
But being pleased with myself won’t do. I should be nothing with myself. I want void. Idiot: I can’t want void. I have to let it come to me. Pg. 271
“What exactly is God going to do with them?” I ask.
“Free them,” Adam says. “Make them properly dead.”
“Can God do that?” I ask.
Adam nods. “He may not have created everything, but he’s good as a manager.” Pg. 368
I like the idea of a fluid consciousness – that you can change all sorts of aspects of the past and present, but it all just comes out the way it comes out. There are no butterflies flapping their wings, there’s just what happens. It’s not a fatalistic book at all, the opposite, in fact. The main character is able to choose a variety of ways for her life to unfold and it just doesn’t matter to anyone but those closest to her. She’s not saving the world; she’s just saving herself a few people she cares about. Well, she’s also saving humanity. She’s saving the ability to know.
In the book, god(s) is (are) the collection of human thought, attention. I think belief systems are whatever people find that they need to get by. Life is incredibly beautiful and painful, disappointing and inspired. We use belief so that it doesn’t drive us mad. Does it create these gods in this other world? It seems a bit literal, but OK.
The Christian emphasis of the book made me a little uncomfortable. There were multiple gods (a.k.a. saints), but the Christian God dominated it all. I don’t want to give away the ending, but the ending left me a little sour with its biblicalness.
What excited me most in the book is empathy. In Hitchhikers’, the woman doesn’t need the empathy gun because she is already a woman so she is already able to conceptualize what another person thinks and feels. This book, written by a woman, takes a slightly more complicated, and real, approach. The main character is already empathetic, but through experiencing others’ consciousnesses (and surfing them), she literally has another’s feelings. That’s bigger than just imagining how someone might feel.
The Troposphere also has the possibility to ride a particular emotion to a different time or place. That blew my mind. I don’t actually believe that every time we experience a certain emotion is linked up anywhere – I don’t think the brain is that smart. But trying to work that out is a fun thought snack.
Language is another thing – the narrator is able to conceptualize the Troposphere as functioning like a computer but also as the manifestation of language. I like language too, but it’s just a tool, a means to an end. I got the idea from the book that the author sees language as being something bigger than that – that it’s a world in itself or at least that it creates one. Maybe my relationship with language is limited, or maybe I’m undervaluing language, but I see it more as the narrow place between two dramatic canyons, my consciousness and yours.
I have been guilty of seeing my present as temporary, and marginal, to some greater situation I’ll discover in the future. As a pre-teen, I wanted to be an actress, but the main theater I ever did was our little production of Alice in Wonderland where I laughed instead of reciting my lines as the Gryphon. (I also played the Red Queen and the Mad Hatter, parts I took much more seriously.) Early in high school, I was still saying I was going to be an actress, and a friend asked if the feeling I claimed to get from being on stage I know about from Alice. I lied and said that I had done more serious productions. That’s how I feel about language. But the bigger point I’m trying to make is a bit bland but I’ll say it anyway: this is it. This is what we get, life, not language or the future. Experience life with everything you’ve got, and that’s what it will give back you.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Sin: Pride
In Ethan Brand, Hawthorn finds that the unpardonable sin is the violation of the sanctity of another person’s heart. Is that sometimes called betrayal? Years ago, Elizabeth suggested that “if someone doesn’t treat you the way you want to be treated, don’t spend time with them.” The idea blew my mind! I always thought that life, society, relationships were all about working with what you’re given. I didn’t know you could reject it.
But I find that I can. Yes, devastating heartbreak is unforgivable. And there is no limit to the number of times you can recreate yourself.
At Burning Man one year, Kristin wrote the deadly sins all over her mostly-naked body. Then, she went around asking people she met which sin was theirs. I’ve experienced sloth, greed, envy, gluttony, lust to a point of being tempted to select them. I’ve never been much for wrath. In my heart, I know my sin is pride, but at the same time, I’m pretty amazing. Is it still pride if it’s justified?
My sister was reviewing for me her romantic prospects over the phone yesterday. She listed what they looked like, whether they wanted to get married and have children, what their religions were, where they wanted to live, and the kinds of things they liked to do. I suggested she spend time with them and see who she falls in love with, but she disagreed. She said “we have had many years of being with the wrong people and that was wonderful…” but now is the time to screen for our goals. Maybe it’s my pride, but I’m just not willing to give up my idealism.
I don’t need a man to have a baby. I don’t need a partner to buy a house. I don’t even need a job to support myself. Yes, all those things would be nice, but I can do it all without them if the alternative is the wrong man, partner, job…. There is no limit to the number of times I can recreate myself.
But I find that I can. Yes, devastating heartbreak is unforgivable. And there is no limit to the number of times you can recreate yourself.
At Burning Man one year, Kristin wrote the deadly sins all over her mostly-naked body. Then, she went around asking people she met which sin was theirs. I’ve experienced sloth, greed, envy, gluttony, lust to a point of being tempted to select them. I’ve never been much for wrath. In my heart, I know my sin is pride, but at the same time, I’m pretty amazing. Is it still pride if it’s justified?
My sister was reviewing for me her romantic prospects over the phone yesterday. She listed what they looked like, whether they wanted to get married and have children, what their religions were, where they wanted to live, and the kinds of things they liked to do. I suggested she spend time with them and see who she falls in love with, but she disagreed. She said “we have had many years of being with the wrong people and that was wonderful…” but now is the time to screen for our goals. Maybe it’s my pride, but I’m just not willing to give up my idealism.
I don’t need a man to have a baby. I don’t need a partner to buy a house. I don’t even need a job to support myself. Yes, all those things would be nice, but I can do it all without them if the alternative is the wrong man, partner, job…. There is no limit to the number of times I can recreate myself.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
"No" and "Maybe"
Tyler has broadened my podcast horizons. He’s got me listening to a variety of “tips” podcasts, and the one I find most compelling is the negotiating tips. It doesn’t take too many thinks to realize how similar NVC is to negotiating and how important good negotiating skills are to good relationships.
One of these recent podcasts talked about interactive negotiating. Because negotiating happens in real time, they suggested practicing giving different answers. When a negotiation is stuck, they suggested negotiating some other aspect of the agreement. They reminded the listener that if you’re 100% in your comfort zone, you’re doing things automatically, and you’re not fully engaged. Like a jazz musician, strive to always be 20% out of your comfort zone.
I’ve noticed lately that big part of negotiation, and advocacy, is feeling comfortable with hearing “no”. I’ve noticed this with my mother. I’ve noticed this with my ideas at work. Often, the first reaction I get is negative. With my mother, I have given up there. I feel frustrated, but I move on. The next time I talk with her, she’s often come to accept the idea that was so onerous to her in our earlier conversation.
At work, it’s a little more complicated. I see my goal as to push my agenda – what I think is right for the company (and the world) – accompanied with doing the rest of my job as well as I possibly can AND being as pleasant and nice as I possibly can be. Sometimes it’s exhausting. But I have noticed that, over time, as I frame and re-frame my ideas, my boss appears to be accepting them. We’ll see how it goes.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not comfortable with “no” and “maybe” in myself or others. I prefer passion and commitment to the alternatives. A good portion of this is framing. The simplest example I can think of is relationships: if I’m not in love with someone, I’m more comfortable with an un-complicated friendship even if I see partnership potential… for example. But announcing your plans is a good way to make god laugh. On the other hand, trying to persuade people of something over time provides plenty of opportunity to hone your argument for those that work best with each audience.
I wonder if I would be more successful in all aspects of life if I learned to tolerate “no”s and “maybe”s, or had more patience with them, saw them as opportunities. I might be a better advocate. I might find a functional partnership. Practicing this with my mother was easy. Honing it with work has been challenging, but I prefer it to the alternatives. I wonder if I’ll be able to adapt these ideas to aspects of my life closer to me.
One of these recent podcasts talked about interactive negotiating. Because negotiating happens in real time, they suggested practicing giving different answers. When a negotiation is stuck, they suggested negotiating some other aspect of the agreement. They reminded the listener that if you’re 100% in your comfort zone, you’re doing things automatically, and you’re not fully engaged. Like a jazz musician, strive to always be 20% out of your comfort zone.
I’ve noticed lately that big part of negotiation, and advocacy, is feeling comfortable with hearing “no”. I’ve noticed this with my mother. I’ve noticed this with my ideas at work. Often, the first reaction I get is negative. With my mother, I have given up there. I feel frustrated, but I move on. The next time I talk with her, she’s often come to accept the idea that was so onerous to her in our earlier conversation.
At work, it’s a little more complicated. I see my goal as to push my agenda – what I think is right for the company (and the world) – accompanied with doing the rest of my job as well as I possibly can AND being as pleasant and nice as I possibly can be. Sometimes it’s exhausting. But I have noticed that, over time, as I frame and re-frame my ideas, my boss appears to be accepting them. We’ll see how it goes.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not comfortable with “no” and “maybe” in myself or others. I prefer passion and commitment to the alternatives. A good portion of this is framing. The simplest example I can think of is relationships: if I’m not in love with someone, I’m more comfortable with an un-complicated friendship even if I see partnership potential… for example. But announcing your plans is a good way to make god laugh. On the other hand, trying to persuade people of something over time provides plenty of opportunity to hone your argument for those that work best with each audience.
I wonder if I would be more successful in all aspects of life if I learned to tolerate “no”s and “maybe”s, or had more patience with them, saw them as opportunities. I might be a better advocate. I might find a functional partnership. Practicing this with my mother was easy. Honing it with work has been challenging, but I prefer it to the alternatives. I wonder if I’ll be able to adapt these ideas to aspects of my life closer to me.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Deer Mating Preferences
Male red deer have big antlers but their loud call attracts the ovulating females. This is the first study to find a non-human mammal uses an acoustic cue to select a mate.
-Scientific American podcast
Me too!
-Scientific American podcast
Me too!
Democracy and War
The Palestinian Authority went ahead and held elections and Hamas won. No one, it appears, is happy about this. But, as (I believe) David Plotz on Slate pointed out, "Not since Sampson has there been a good week in Gaza." Like in Iraq, democracy imposed too soon becomes a setback.
If you can number it and apply it to other things, I love it. The Slate gabbers made the observation that you need:
1) Order
2) Justice
3) Economic freedom/civil liberties/freedom of the press
all before you can have a functional democratic system. On the other hand, as outsiders, opposing even premature democracy can appear ...not politically astute.
I only read the bare minimum of Robert Putnam in grad school in order to pass my classes, but I understand that the foundation of a functional democratic government is a functional democratic society. Society is comprised of relationships. So, war-based relationships must heal before a democratic government can grow.
I feel torn in so many directions for where this post should go. I want to talk about building trust in relationships, and about my relationships that lacked trust. I want to talk about friendship, which is also really about trust, about how you must "have a friend to be a friend." I want to talk about the Golden Rule. I want to talk about What Jesus Would Do, not that that is terribly relevant to the current players in the Middle East. Imagine my brain all over the wall behind me.
Except there is no wall behind me. I'm facing the wall. I think the best thing we can do with the Middle East is to learn from it. Self-protection, harbored hatred, violence, getting too fixated on one solution... all lead inevitably to war and misery... and not being ready for democratic relationships.
Some people thought that Rodney King was an idiot for asking "Why can't we all just get along." Others thought it was a good question. The other year, a woman started screaming at a bicyclist on the sidewalk, and I suggested to her she might consider meditating. She responded by screaming at me something about Jesus. Maybe I should have handed her a flower -- you know, be the change you wish to see in the world. Years later, I still don't have a better idea.
If you can number it and apply it to other things, I love it. The Slate gabbers made the observation that you need:
1) Order
2) Justice
3) Economic freedom/civil liberties/freedom of the press
all before you can have a functional democratic system. On the other hand, as outsiders, opposing even premature democracy can appear ...not politically astute.
I only read the bare minimum of Robert Putnam in grad school in order to pass my classes, but I understand that the foundation of a functional democratic government is a functional democratic society. Society is comprised of relationships. So, war-based relationships must heal before a democratic government can grow.
I feel torn in so many directions for where this post should go. I want to talk about building trust in relationships, and about my relationships that lacked trust. I want to talk about friendship, which is also really about trust, about how you must "have a friend to be a friend." I want to talk about the Golden Rule. I want to talk about What Jesus Would Do, not that that is terribly relevant to the current players in the Middle East. Imagine my brain all over the wall behind me.
Except there is no wall behind me. I'm facing the wall. I think the best thing we can do with the Middle East is to learn from it. Self-protection, harbored hatred, violence, getting too fixated on one solution... all lead inevitably to war and misery... and not being ready for democratic relationships.
Some people thought that Rodney King was an idiot for asking "Why can't we all just get along." Others thought it was a good question. The other year, a woman started screaming at a bicyclist on the sidewalk, and I suggested to her she might consider meditating. She responded by screaming at me something about Jesus. Maybe I should have handed her a flower -- you know, be the change you wish to see in the world. Years later, I still don't have a better idea.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
NEWSFLASH: I rock.
My company has a 1.5-day new-hire orientation. I talk to the newbies for 5-10 minutes about their commute options near the end of the first day. I try to make it as much like a game show as possible.
I've always been terrified of public speaking. I over-planned. I took a class with on-camera coaching. I "glowed" more than I wanted to. My voice quivered. But this job requires a weekly presentation to a large group. I've come to enjoy it!
It showed. The evaluation form asks which presenter "rocked", and a new hire wrote down my name! These results have circulated.
I've always been terrified of public speaking. I over-planned. I took a class with on-camera coaching. I "glowed" more than I wanted to. My voice quivered. But this job requires a weekly presentation to a large group. I've come to enjoy it!
It showed. The evaluation form asks which presenter "rocked", and a new hire wrote down my name! These results have circulated.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Ramblings from the paper scraps and on truth and happiness
Billy Jean King called herself an “adaptive perfectionist”.
“I’d much rather be happy than right any day.” –The Hitchikers’ Guide to the Galaxy
How did I miss this book? (I’ll tell you how, my mother doesn’t like it. She expresses her very strong opinions so that if I had wanted to read that book, I would have had to hide it from her.
I have 2 brief asides to this observation.
1) My mother has this issue with purple, the color. I love it, but whenever I have had anything purple in my house or on my person, she’s mentioned it in a disapproving way, and then repeated brought up the incident. "Remember that time you wore that bright purple sweater," she laughs disdainfully. Recently, I asked her: “what does purple represent that you dislike so much? No color merits scorn without a reason?” She didn’t really have an answer, but she hasn’t brought it up again since then.
2) I read “The Lovely Bones” a while back, and wrote a review of it here. It was my copy, and I used a black pen to underline my favorite lines. Now I use pencil, but that’s not the point. When I was finished, I gave the copy to my mother knowing that she would enjoy reading it. She forgot her copy had come from me and told me later that she thought some kind of idiot had underlined in her copy.)
Anyway, I watched the movie the other night and completely loved it. I own 2 movies now, and I’m not growing a collection, but I next time I see this DVD for sale, I will definitely buy it. I’m also planning to read the book when I finish The End of Mr. Y.
Listening to my podcasts recently, I learn about the recent trend for mayors to take over the government of schools from school boards. I also believe that the decisions of RIDES’ (my former NPO employer) board led to its demise. Tracey has mentioned that the NPO board-government structure dilutes the effectiveness of advocacy organizations. It’s certainly true that one strong leader will always be more effective than a committee – I don’t think that’s a radical thing to say. I wonder what this trend means about our changing society: will schools become stronger led by mayors? Will they become a political force as their leaders have access to their mayor’s ear? Will group government fade out in other organizations? Will that ultimately increase their effectiveness as I suspect?
I remembered my second yoga paraphrase from last week: “Don’t believe everything you think. People who believe everything they think are crazy. People who believe some of what they think, which is most of us, are neurotic.” I subscribe to a lot of Post Modern thought, and I generally believe that there is no truth, that everything is subjective. I just don’t always remember that in the heat of a theory:
1. Demand for transportation is inelastic.
2. Ex-boyfriend X wasn’t special enough.
3. Never pay retail.
(for example). I like the metaphor of truth being like water: as it flows, it generally, but not absolutely, holds one shape while the water molecules change. Similarly, I’ve learned that it’s easier to find happiness if I don’t get too attached to what it’s going to look like.
“I’d much rather be happy than right any day.” –The Hitchikers’ Guide to the Galaxy
How did I miss this book? (I’ll tell you how, my mother doesn’t like it. She expresses her very strong opinions so that if I had wanted to read that book, I would have had to hide it from her.
I have 2 brief asides to this observation.
1) My mother has this issue with purple, the color. I love it, but whenever I have had anything purple in my house or on my person, she’s mentioned it in a disapproving way, and then repeated brought up the incident. "Remember that time you wore that bright purple sweater," she laughs disdainfully. Recently, I asked her: “what does purple represent that you dislike so much? No color merits scorn without a reason?” She didn’t really have an answer, but she hasn’t brought it up again since then.
2) I read “The Lovely Bones” a while back, and wrote a review of it here. It was my copy, and I used a black pen to underline my favorite lines. Now I use pencil, but that’s not the point. When I was finished, I gave the copy to my mother knowing that she would enjoy reading it. She forgot her copy had come from me and told me later that she thought some kind of idiot had underlined in her copy.)
Anyway, I watched the movie the other night and completely loved it. I own 2 movies now, and I’m not growing a collection, but I next time I see this DVD for sale, I will definitely buy it. I’m also planning to read the book when I finish The End of Mr. Y.
Listening to my podcasts recently, I learn about the recent trend for mayors to take over the government of schools from school boards. I also believe that the decisions of RIDES’ (my former NPO employer) board led to its demise. Tracey has mentioned that the NPO board-government structure dilutes the effectiveness of advocacy organizations. It’s certainly true that one strong leader will always be more effective than a committee – I don’t think that’s a radical thing to say. I wonder what this trend means about our changing society: will schools become stronger led by mayors? Will they become a political force as their leaders have access to their mayor’s ear? Will group government fade out in other organizations? Will that ultimately increase their effectiveness as I suspect?
I remembered my second yoga paraphrase from last week: “Don’t believe everything you think. People who believe everything they think are crazy. People who believe some of what they think, which is most of us, are neurotic.” I subscribe to a lot of Post Modern thought, and I generally believe that there is no truth, that everything is subjective. I just don’t always remember that in the heat of a theory:
1. Demand for transportation is inelastic.
2. Ex-boyfriend X wasn’t special enough.
3. Never pay retail.
(for example). I like the metaphor of truth being like water: as it flows, it generally, but not absolutely, holds one shape while the water molecules change. Similarly, I’ve learned that it’s easier to find happiness if I don’t get too attached to what it’s going to look like.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Changing the World One Man at a Time
I’ve been wrestling internally about which dating stories I am allowed to record publicly. Tonight, I want to err on the side of conservation. But there is one I can definitely share.
Some weeks back, I was checking the bike lockers at work near one of our buildings far from my own. A man about my age stood smoking and watching me as I checked each lock. After a short time, he approached me with small talk. I participated enthusiastically, hoping to convince him to start biking to work or at least find a carpool. We covered the basics: what I was doing, how he gets to works, how he could get to work, how long we’ve both worked there….
Him: Are you seeing anyone? Because you’re very attractive.
Me: Um… thank you… No, I’m not.
After a quick think, I opted for the truth.
Him: Would you like to go out sometime?
Me: Maybe.
H: My birthday is this weekend, and we’re going out in the city. Maybe you’d like to come? …I know that sounds strange asking you first thing to come to my birthday party….
M: I’m busy this weekend, but if you bike to work, maybe we could have lunch sometime.
I think I winked.
I told him to look me up on the intra-net, and get in touch. I said I would send him his ideal bike route to the office.
He emailed me the next day and apologized for being so forward and reiterated why. I didn’t really want to encourage him. I mean, he smokes, drives, and has a job that doesn’t excite me. None of those are really deal-breakers themselves but combined…. I sent him his bike route plan through inter-office mail so as to avoid encouraging communication. He emailed me again to thank me. I emailed him at some point to ask a work-related question, and I included pleasantries. I told him I was too busy for lunch. I implied that I would find time when he started biking to work. I’m changing the world one man at a time.
Another week or so goes by, and I have a bad weekend. I consider the ways that I can boost my ego. Don’t look down on me, you know you do it too. He also managed to say something interesting in one of his messages. I sent him a chatty reply. We corresponded a little and even participated in the same in-person conversation once. I began to feel better about myself. But he still hasn’t biked to work. Finally, we make a plan for lunch including my encouragement that he bike that day.
The designated time and place rolls around, and I wait. And wait. I go back to my desk to check my email and voicemail in case he’s sent either. Nothing. I wait a little more, and then I eat without him. On the way home, I check my personal mobile phone for the first time. He’d left a message on it saying that he was fired the previous day… something to do with driving the van…. He called again on Friday night and left a message with invitations for the weekend. I haven’t called him back.
Now, I was never interested in this guy. And him having been fired… well, I guess the bottom line is that it’s no longer my job to get him to bike to work.
Some weeks back, I was checking the bike lockers at work near one of our buildings far from my own. A man about my age stood smoking and watching me as I checked each lock. After a short time, he approached me with small talk. I participated enthusiastically, hoping to convince him to start biking to work or at least find a carpool. We covered the basics: what I was doing, how he gets to works, how he could get to work, how long we’ve both worked there….
Him: Are you seeing anyone? Because you’re very attractive.
Me: Um… thank you… No, I’m not.
After a quick think, I opted for the truth.
Him: Would you like to go out sometime?
Me: Maybe.
H: My birthday is this weekend, and we’re going out in the city. Maybe you’d like to come? …I know that sounds strange asking you first thing to come to my birthday party….
M: I’m busy this weekend, but if you bike to work, maybe we could have lunch sometime.
I think I winked.
I told him to look me up on the intra-net, and get in touch. I said I would send him his ideal bike route to the office.
He emailed me the next day and apologized for being so forward and reiterated why. I didn’t really want to encourage him. I mean, he smokes, drives, and has a job that doesn’t excite me. None of those are really deal-breakers themselves but combined…. I sent him his bike route plan through inter-office mail so as to avoid encouraging communication. He emailed me again to thank me. I emailed him at some point to ask a work-related question, and I included pleasantries. I told him I was too busy for lunch. I implied that I would find time when he started biking to work. I’m changing the world one man at a time.
Another week or so goes by, and I have a bad weekend. I consider the ways that I can boost my ego. Don’t look down on me, you know you do it too. He also managed to say something interesting in one of his messages. I sent him a chatty reply. We corresponded a little and even participated in the same in-person conversation once. I began to feel better about myself. But he still hasn’t biked to work. Finally, we make a plan for lunch including my encouragement that he bike that day.
The designated time and place rolls around, and I wait. And wait. I go back to my desk to check my email and voicemail in case he’s sent either. Nothing. I wait a little more, and then I eat without him. On the way home, I check my personal mobile phone for the first time. He’d left a message on it saying that he was fired the previous day… something to do with driving the van…. He called again on Friday night and left a message with invitations for the weekend. I haven’t called him back.
Now, I was never interested in this guy. And him having been fired… well, I guess the bottom line is that it’s no longer my job to get him to bike to work.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
A Complete Lack of Moss
My mother pointed out, from her chateau hideout in the French countryside, that there’s no moss growing around me. Thursday was an intense day of sailing before the quarterly membership meeting. I pulled some muscles, and I think I sprained my hand. I’m almost better now. Much wind and waves pushed us around. I capsized, tho the boat itself righted, and I am here to report that those lifejacket thingies actually do make you float even fully, warmly, heavily, and wetly clothed. Karen said I “sacrificed” myself – I hope she and Jason were grateful! Although, truthfully, she, wetsuited, sacrificed herself a few times.
The food at the dinner tasted completely amazing. I don’t know how they did it. Chicken, Moroccan bean soup thingy, tabuli, baklava, hummus, homemade pita… YUM! Jason said I reminded him of the character Marion Ravenwood from Indian Jones (“who drank men under the table and put Indiana Jones out with a kiss”) – my new favorite compliment ever. But mostly we cried the whole time because Tyler wasn’t there.
I already told you about Friday. Saturday night, I saw Hairspray in Dolores Park with Gabe. It was possibly the worst movie I’ve ever seen but fun anyway. Again, it misted on us, but we had blankets and hot toddy.
Today, Sultan and I looked at real estate in Dogpatch. Wouldn’t it be so awesome to say you live in a neighborhood called “Dogpatch”? Unfortunately, we only found lofts to look at, and I don’t want a loft.
Tonight I went to yoga. Yoga paraphrase:
• If you run away from a thing, it will find you anyway. If you let it in, it will transform you.
The second one eludes me at the moment, but it might have had something to do with letting yourself feel what you feel and not being afraid of that. Let yourself soften and accept what the world throws you. I guess that’s like making lemonade out of lemons.
Random fact: John Edwards won over his wife on their first date by kissing her on the forehead, and he doesn’t use any hair product at all – not even conditioner.
The food at the dinner tasted completely amazing. I don’t know how they did it. Chicken, Moroccan bean soup thingy, tabuli, baklava, hummus, homemade pita… YUM! Jason said I reminded him of the character Marion Ravenwood from Indian Jones (“who drank men under the table and put Indiana Jones out with a kiss”) – my new favorite compliment ever. But mostly we cried the whole time because Tyler wasn’t there.
I already told you about Friday. Saturday night, I saw Hairspray in Dolores Park with Gabe. It was possibly the worst movie I’ve ever seen but fun anyway. Again, it misted on us, but we had blankets and hot toddy.
Today, Sultan and I looked at real estate in Dogpatch. Wouldn’t it be so awesome to say you live in a neighborhood called “Dogpatch”? Unfortunately, we only found lofts to look at, and I don’t want a loft.
Tonight I went to yoga. Yoga paraphrase:
• If you run away from a thing, it will find you anyway. If you let it in, it will transform you.
The second one eludes me at the moment, but it might have had something to do with letting yourself feel what you feel and not being afraid of that. Let yourself soften and accept what the world throws you. I guess that’s like making lemonade out of lemons.
Random fact: John Edwards won over his wife on their first date by kissing her on the forehead, and he doesn’t use any hair product at all – not even conditioner.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Poetry Night at the de Young
Last night, Julie, Cynthia and I went to see Robert Haas read poetry at the de Young Museum. We arrived at the museum a bit after 6, and they were having their usual Friday night party fully equipped with bands, a bar and art project stations. You were encouraged to make yourself a silly hat or to re-style your prom dress into something fun or punk or both or something else entirely. I noticed a lot of colors.
Julie and I got “white sangria” to drink which included chunks of watermelon, honeydew mellon, and cantaloupe. I was impressed. The theater had sloping seating area of orange leather chairs which were remarkably eager to make fart noises. Behind the stage, a variable polkadot texture let in the daylight before they closed the shade for the program.
The opening speaker said: “If people aren’t sincerely, actively, even emotionally involved with the arts, they lose their vitality, and the arts lose their momentum.”
Robert Haas took the stage and focused his talk on San Francisco and the arts. He mentioned that Wurster convinced Maybeck to build the Swedish Church in San Francisco. He told us how Telegraph Hill didn’t used to be so steep but while the ships transported wood from the Northwest, they filled their decks with rocks from the Hill to weigh them down for the return trip – that’s how the Port of Seattle was built. To paint an image of the region, he included the smells of juniper and lemon.
Haas is thinking about compiling a book of German poetry about it getting dark. I love the immediacy and peculiarity of having a book of poems about a moment of the day.
“Unsentimental” – what a word! He spoke about how violence against women is in the very character of war not an aberration. Sexual violence is part of war.
While he was Poet Lauriat, for which he was paid $30K/year – not enough to support his family and 2 kids in college, he aimed to bring poetry into the mainstream with weekly columns in the Washington Post (then syndicated throughout American media). The result had become his book called Now and Then, which I bought and got him to sign. I realize now that I also already had a copy of Human Wishes signed to me in exactly the same way though I don’t remember getting it. He wants everyone to buy Now and Then because the publisher is small and local – you know what to do!
An audience member asked him about his relationship with Czeslaw Milosz. He explained that translating all those poems was like “being alive twice” as he felt he really lived the sources of other poet’s verses through translating them into English.
Haas is a charming man with fine social skills. Cynthia, Julie and I speculated as we left the museum that very successful people tend to be likeable because those around them have encouraged and supported them. He seemed to be aging gracefully into his always-destiny of being an older professor-poet in kaki pants and a tweed coat, calm and carefully-spoken. I couldn’t help but wonder what the female equivalent of that is. The female archetypes are all young be they smart, beautiful, or witty. I thought of the old lady in purple, but she’s no great mind – just eccentric. What will I become?
After the program, we met Sultan and friend for dinner. Thai food – Marnee Thai on 9th Ave. – was excellent. I entertained the group with some of my very recent dating stories that I realize I need to type up for the blog. Sultan’s friend observed that women process their relationships with their friends. They talk them out and try to understand them with people who know them well. He said that men don’t do that. Men process their last relationship in their next relationship.
I can’t help but think that this is what happened with Jared. Our problems seemed so random and unnecessary. I felt like I was living someone else’s life… on someone else’s planet. I think I was playing the part of his last girlfriend for him but without my knowledge or consent. Alas – I guess life is neither perfect nor fair.
Julie and I got “white sangria” to drink which included chunks of watermelon, honeydew mellon, and cantaloupe. I was impressed. The theater had sloping seating area of orange leather chairs which were remarkably eager to make fart noises. Behind the stage, a variable polkadot texture let in the daylight before they closed the shade for the program.
The opening speaker said: “If people aren’t sincerely, actively, even emotionally involved with the arts, they lose their vitality, and the arts lose their momentum.”
Robert Haas took the stage and focused his talk on San Francisco and the arts. He mentioned that Wurster convinced Maybeck to build the Swedish Church in San Francisco. He told us how Telegraph Hill didn’t used to be so steep but while the ships transported wood from the Northwest, they filled their decks with rocks from the Hill to weigh them down for the return trip – that’s how the Port of Seattle was built. To paint an image of the region, he included the smells of juniper and lemon.
Haas is thinking about compiling a book of German poetry about it getting dark. I love the immediacy and peculiarity of having a book of poems about a moment of the day.
“Unsentimental” – what a word! He spoke about how violence against women is in the very character of war not an aberration. Sexual violence is part of war.
While he was Poet Lauriat, for which he was paid $30K/year – not enough to support his family and 2 kids in college, he aimed to bring poetry into the mainstream with weekly columns in the Washington Post (then syndicated throughout American media). The result had become his book called Now and Then, which I bought and got him to sign. I realize now that I also already had a copy of Human Wishes signed to me in exactly the same way though I don’t remember getting it. He wants everyone to buy Now and Then because the publisher is small and local – you know what to do!
An audience member asked him about his relationship with Czeslaw Milosz. He explained that translating all those poems was like “being alive twice” as he felt he really lived the sources of other poet’s verses through translating them into English.
Haas is a charming man with fine social skills. Cynthia, Julie and I speculated as we left the museum that very successful people tend to be likeable because those around them have encouraged and supported them. He seemed to be aging gracefully into his always-destiny of being an older professor-poet in kaki pants and a tweed coat, calm and carefully-spoken. I couldn’t help but wonder what the female equivalent of that is. The female archetypes are all young be they smart, beautiful, or witty. I thought of the old lady in purple, but she’s no great mind – just eccentric. What will I become?
After the program, we met Sultan and friend for dinner. Thai food – Marnee Thai on 9th Ave. – was excellent. I entertained the group with some of my very recent dating stories that I realize I need to type up for the blog. Sultan’s friend observed that women process their relationships with their friends. They talk them out and try to understand them with people who know them well. He said that men don’t do that. Men process their last relationship in their next relationship.
I can’t help but think that this is what happened with Jared. Our problems seemed so random and unnecessary. I felt like I was living someone else’s life… on someone else’s planet. I think I was playing the part of his last girlfriend for him but without my knowledge or consent. Alas – I guess life is neither perfect nor fair.
Monday, May 28, 2007
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.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
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!
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!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
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.
"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.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, May 18, 2007
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...
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.
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