Monday, May 24, 2010
But seriously, one more reason not to register for your wedding on the internets... I am sorta sniffing around a house for sale, we're going to look at it again tomorrow... and I thought I might be able to find the current owners on Facebook... see if they said anything about it. (In Portland, names of home owners are public record. Hello, PortlandMaps.com for sale history, tax history, permits, noise complaints, everything!! I sought a Facebook profile for the owners' names.)
No such luck. But I did find their wedding registry! And I say: snobs.
(I also say: the house is in her name only, but they've been married 382 days. Thanks WeddingChannel.com!)
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
One: the rules apply to you. That's right... YOU! Federal rules, state rules, rules that are enforceable. Oh - and they apply to your kids, your parents, your neighbors. And don't forget yourself. Yes. You. Yes! All rules. Please note: that one you're trying to get out of IS included.
Two: you don't make a good case for immigration reform when you want to only apply said reform to your nationality, and you DEFINITELY don't want to apply reform to anyone who speaks Spanish. Your argument sucks that way and I don't like you very much. At all. AT ALL.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
You think I'm kidding - but I am not. Once children reach the age of reason, and really once they start to mature into semi-deep-thought-thinking beings, I want to run away from them.
Tonight, I watched an episode of This American Life (from the Showtime TV series) that focused on teenagers getting their photographs taken as high school sophomores. It was all there: their embarrassing ideas of what is cool, their pimples, their braces, their conviction that they'd remember the hot guy forever, their ability admit they'd make a mistake with no knowledge or ideas about how to fix it... I cringed. I kept saying, "awwww" and "ohhhhh" and my eyes actually got a little teary. My husband, on the other hand, laughed. A good-natured laugh, but he still chuckled at their growing pains. Not me. I shuddered.
So if anger masks fear... what does fear mask? Why am I so afraid of teenagers? Is it... could it... might I be totally in tune with that teenage part of myself still? Might I remember sharply, precisely how they feel? Might I avoid them like the plague... because... what I really want to do is swoop them up in my arms, erase their Facebook profiles and internet tracks, tell them to stop talking for a second and make them know they'll get out the other side of high school. Where they won't remember half the details, but they will remember every single one of the feelings.
Friday, May 7, 2010
They wrote about the blog and soon-to-be-iPhone app for Hollaback, a place where you can snap a photo of someone who harasses you on the street/subway/bar/etc and upload it with a brief description. Anyone who has ever been given a vulgar catcall (my first one was at age 14 in NYC with my dad; lovely) or been leered at on the sidewalk (why just last week, a drunk sketchy guy kept saying "uhhh...nice pants...." to me (three times) in a crosswalk outside work!) might find Hollaback a safe outlet for their discomfort, anger, shame, fill-in-the-blank emotion.
So in the age of the internet, no sooner does Jezebel say that it's pretty crazy to live in a world where this is so ubiquitous as to deserve an iPhone app, and if it helps, then yeah, go for it... no sooner... does a commenter then point out how it could be used wrongly, for some poor innocent nice guy who might want to tell a woman she is wearing a lovely dress.
So leave it to SarahMC (commenter extraordinaire and NO, not me) to say: Yes, the real victims here are the men who can't tell ladies they like their dresses.
God I love when someone reminds us to stay on topic. And when they remind us, too, that adults of both genders - it turns out! - can usually tell the difference between a lovely compliment and a flipping creepy invasion of personal space. Who knew?!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Two things I've learned so far at work this week:
If you have outstanding child support, you can't get a passport. Call me an a-hole, call me a conservative, but I am all for this one. Rights and privileges of being a gilded and certified American citizen need to come with responsibilities - and child support seems one of the most righteous to me.
You can spell it "gauntlet" but you can also spell it "gantlet"! And some grammarians even say that it should be "gauntlet" when you're throwin' it down and "gantlet" when you're runnin' it. This is 100% brand new spelling and grammar news to me… and you know how I love spelling and grammar news! So cool!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
First, the people who love me and have my best interests at heart are much, much softer on me than I am on myself. They're not telling me to buy a house now. They're not telling me to start a family now. They're gently telling me to write some more, yes, but not harshly -- instead, with joy. So rather than focus on the THINGS I "should" be doing, better to focus on the "how" that I do them.
Secondly, and much more importantly, Jordan pointed out in the comments that while the thing we may want, or the thing we may be told to do, is tangible... that's only half the point. (Or less!) We may be told to start a tea shop that also sells organic flowers, or it may be our heart's desire... but if I can go a level deeper than that, what do I find? The tea, the flowers, the being my own boss... those are about financial independence, calm environments, beautiful things. Starting a family? That's about sharing more love with the world, or rising to a new challenge. Buying a home? That's about creating a cocoon, a sanctuary, and a place to host these people I love so fiercely.
For me, I came up with:
- writing more is about telling more stories and flexing what I think is my universe-given best skill;
- being softer on others and less judgmental are also about being softer on myself and giving those I love a lot more leeway.
How 'bout your things? Who is telling you to do what... and when you go one layer deeper, what is the greater meaning of these tangible changes you wish to make?