The person who is 37 years old, and took the "What's your Mental Age?" quiz, and proudly - happily - happily posted that she is mentally 25.
The person who bitched about the travel delays he endured, that he has repeatedly had (and oh, we've heard about) on his last three vacations. His last three vacations have been in the last five months.
The person who posted the fifteenth post in a week about sheeple - and how they hate corporations, hate the high fructose corn syrup in Mother's Brand Sandwich Bread, hate NSA surveillance, and hate people who spend too much time on Facebook, and are probably ignoring their children. This person has children.
And my personal favorite, the person who posted all week long about what a demanding office-job work week it was, and then posted at 5:33 from their favorite bar, on Friday, that they were glad to see the week finally be over! Honey, if you're posting at 5:33 PM from a bar, your week in a M-F office is just not that hellish.
Showing posts with label technology life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label technology life. Show all posts
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
July 24, Pommern: Preview Post.
(As written in my journal that day; grammar and minor edits only. Italicized portions are additions written after the trip.)
Today is the day I don't want to write about. So before I start, a couple notes...
I started calling the toilets "magic toilets" after the first morning. The water comes from a gravity-flow system, so it works best when the big black tanks, high up on a tower outside the house, are very full. But I don't really know when this happens. All I know is: the magic toilets are thus named because a flush gets rid of the water, but nothing else. Everything in the bowl stays there, and the water just drains away slowly, and then refills. Magic! Right?! Replace the water but keep the contents! Within minutes of walking in the door on the first day, I had to put away my inner clean freak. The toilets have dried chunks of... stuff... on the outside, and each has a couple brutally strong developing-world mothballs behind them (probably made by the XX SOAP COMPANY). We're cryptically told these help "with the smell". What smell? I don't want to know. I only smell mothball.
And if you've never used TP in the developing world, well, suffice to say the world's great paper processing IS great - and it is saved for the Western world, most especially for America. This stuff is far closer to cardboard and it flakes onto your pant leg and the ground around you just unwinding it off the roll.
When it comes to the two slightly spongy-floored showers, with random nails for hanging your items, they do indeed turn on - with cold water. And here I would point out again how cold we've all been each night and well into the morning, just to say this isn't tropical "cold" water; this is truly cold! The lone male volunteer tried to shower the first morning, and he made us laugh with an imitation of trying to force his body under the water. He couldn't do it. He got a slight shampoo but that was it; no other body part would endure the discomfort. I'll spoil the shower surprise to say that our fantastic family of volunteers brought FIVE sun showers! (Six actually, but one broke.)
We put them out on the cement block each morning and by about 4 PM, they are anywhere from 90 to 110 degrees - amazing. We end up sharing a bag with a friend about every other day - for example, I hang a bag in the shower stall (and by the end of next week, we've broken a few nails with the weight) and go first for about 3 minutes with a "navy shower" and then Meggie goes next, with the final 3 minutes of water. It's a weak spray, and it's navy style - and I have hands-down never been so refreshed by running, splashing water in my entire life as I am on the days I take one here. We take them in the afternoon and I feel like a new person. Meggie takes one in the morning one day - by adding cups of boiling tea water to the now-cool bag to get tepid water. And you guessed it. She runs out of water with a head full of shampoo! I, on the other hand, don't waste water on my hair, sheesh! So this is six days of no hair-washing, just before I get back to Dar and a real shower and wash it twice:
Pictured are the blessed sun shower bags in the backyard on the left side of the frame. Useless solar power machine is center/rear, behind the pole.
Today is the day I don't want to write about. So before I start, a couple notes...
- When Mamatony cooks us a chicken for dinner, it is a plucked, chopped-up and complete hen. Lungs? Still shriveled in a little duo, inside the tiny skeleton chicken ribcage, sitting in the pot, staring at the last person or two in line, too late to get decent meat. How happy I was tonight to be in the line a bit earlier and have a dark meat leg available! Unlike 11-year-old Michael, I could find the meat. And it was wonderful. Protein, my friend.
- In case you remember, and are wondering about, the solar repairman who rode all day with us from Dar... well, he fixed it! But no one knew that while he may be a solar expert, he is not also a plumber. So the heater part works - but it can't be hooked up to the house, and alas, no hot water will be flowing from our faucets any time soon. We're told it could be next week, but that's our last week, and I find the optimism amusing. It must be to keep us quiet?
I started calling the toilets "magic toilets" after the first morning. The water comes from a gravity-flow system, so it works best when the big black tanks, high up on a tower outside the house, are very full. But I don't really know when this happens. All I know is: the magic toilets are thus named because a flush gets rid of the water, but nothing else. Everything in the bowl stays there, and the water just drains away slowly, and then refills. Magic! Right?! Replace the water but keep the contents! Within minutes of walking in the door on the first day, I had to put away my inner clean freak. The toilets have dried chunks of... stuff... on the outside, and each has a couple brutally strong developing-world mothballs behind them (probably made by the XX SOAP COMPANY). We're cryptically told these help "with the smell". What smell? I don't want to know. I only smell mothball.
And if you've never used TP in the developing world, well, suffice to say the world's great paper processing IS great - and it is saved for the Western world, most especially for America. This stuff is far closer to cardboard and it flakes onto your pant leg and the ground around you just unwinding it off the roll.
When it comes to the two slightly spongy-floored showers, with random nails for hanging your items, they do indeed turn on - with cold water. And here I would point out again how cold we've all been each night and well into the morning, just to say this isn't tropical "cold" water; this is truly cold! The lone male volunteer tried to shower the first morning, and he made us laugh with an imitation of trying to force his body under the water. He couldn't do it. He got a slight shampoo but that was it; no other body part would endure the discomfort. I'll spoil the shower surprise to say that our fantastic family of volunteers brought FIVE sun showers! (Six actually, but one broke.)
We put them out on the cement block each morning and by about 4 PM, they are anywhere from 90 to 110 degrees - amazing. We end up sharing a bag with a friend about every other day - for example, I hang a bag in the shower stall (and by the end of next week, we've broken a few nails with the weight) and go first for about 3 minutes with a "navy shower" and then Meggie goes next, with the final 3 minutes of water. It's a weak spray, and it's navy style - and I have hands-down never been so refreshed by running, splashing water in my entire life as I am on the days I take one here. We take them in the afternoon and I feel like a new person. Meggie takes one in the morning one day - by adding cups of boiling tea water to the now-cool bag to get tepid water. And you guessed it. She runs out of water with a head full of shampoo! I, on the other hand, don't waste water on my hair, sheesh! So this is six days of no hair-washing, just before I get back to Dar and a real shower and wash it twice:
Pictured are the blessed sun shower bags in the backyard on the left side of the frame. Useless solar power machine is center/rear, behind the pole.
- You know how you always think of a thing to say in response... too late? This time I got it in real time! The adult helping our teenage volunteers and young villagers on the brick project today (water tower base to add gravity flow and water storage tanks to the secondary school kitchen, pictured below, completed brickwork) said that the village young men were so slow - and our Global Volunteers kids were faster. "This is why things here take so long! This is why they don't get done, or done on time. I mean, we were working much harder than they were." I replied, "Well, you did have a warm shower and a hot meal, with more than enough to eat. I don't think those other guys did." And I'll say this - she took it with total grace and kindness. She was truly thoughtful and said back to me, "Huh, yeah. I hadn't thought of that," as she wandered away.
And now, rather than go two days without posting to the blog, I'm leaving this as a cliffhanger.
As I wrote in my journal in the first line - and it's there, you can ask John, he saw it - this really was the first day I didn't want to write about. It was too hard, and I made too many mistakes. So I'm going to wait until tomorrow to post the real journal entry, and hope you enjoyed this Preview Post.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Picture Post!
A few from Meggie's camera that just came in...
And on the drive from Dar to Iringa, about 30km of the road arcs through Mikumi National Park. If you stop the car, you have to pay $30 USD per person, as a park visitor.
But if you drive verrrry sloooowly, you don't have to pay - you're just transiting through. We saw herds of giraffe, elephant, impala - and so many baboons! With babies!
More dried fish in the Iringa market:
On July 22 in Iringa, and two proud women NOT using the wireless hotspot, but just resting our feet. All around us? White tourists, checking Facebook. We resisted!
One of my numerous conversations, after firmly saying I wasn't going to buy anything, about living in America. I think I'm saying here, "Yes, yes, Barack Obama! We love him where I come from in America."
Women. With babies. Everywhere.
And if not babies, then carrying things - firewood, water, food, baskets. Sometimes TWO buckets of water. And usually a baby, too, but not this time.
The right side of the mission house, where we stayed in Pommern, and the big tree and bench out front:
Me in front of Neema Craft, where the disabled artisans live and work.
The peas! Someone is sitting there, shelling them, at the market. You can spend more and buy them shelled, or spend less and buy them in pods.
Spices at the market.
And on the drive from Dar to Iringa, about 30km of the road arcs through Mikumi National Park. If you stop the car, you have to pay $30 USD per person, as a park visitor.
But if you drive verrrry sloooowly, you don't have to pay - you're just transiting through. We saw herds of giraffe, elephant, impala - and so many baboons! With babies!
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Quit slouching! Part One.
At work recently, I had the opportunity to view myself speaking in front of (most of) the company about an hour after I'd done the speaking.
When the memory is that fresh, watching a video is incredibly powerful.
I've always liked public speaking... the baby of the family often does. I mean, hey, we never got the gavel growing up! So to command attention and be able to say your say - it is enjoyable, it is fun, and I've never been too afraid of it.
That said, I am also new to this job and company. And I don't want to be a pushy know-it-all, so in my head, I was speaking in a consciously unintimidating way. I was casual, I was calm, I was asking for people's attention but not demanding it. I had something to say, but I wanted to invite you in, too, to ask questions and feel comfortable, not dominated by a gaudy speaker.
Well. Well well well.
One hour later, I watched the video with this experience-memory vivid in my mind. And lo and behold, no amount of "projecting casualness" is going to come from this woman. I am, to the slight disappointment of that gendered-shy-feminine-fragile piece of my Self, undeniably authoritative. No amount of tucking my chin down, no amount of peeking out the tops of my eyes, no amount of shrugging or smiling is going to convince anyone I'm not in charge. I clearly am, on that video, and frankly, I'd be all those other things I'm going for - likable, affable, funny, charming - if I just listened to my mother and grandmothers, and "Stood Up Straight!"
If I threw my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and really spoke - I could actually be great at this public speaking thing, and not just decent. Whether or not this qualifies as a realization, or as a blog-worthy piece of self-awareness is up to you. But before you weigh in, try it. Record yourself in front of an audience and then watch it just as soon as you've had a little snack and a walk around the block. You might be shocked at what you find!
When the memory is that fresh, watching a video is incredibly powerful.
I've always liked public speaking... the baby of the family often does. I mean, hey, we never got the gavel growing up! So to command attention and be able to say your say - it is enjoyable, it is fun, and I've never been too afraid of it.
That said, I am also new to this job and company. And I don't want to be a pushy know-it-all, so in my head, I was speaking in a consciously unintimidating way. I was casual, I was calm, I was asking for people's attention but not demanding it. I had something to say, but I wanted to invite you in, too, to ask questions and feel comfortable, not dominated by a gaudy speaker.
Well. Well well well.
One hour later, I watched the video with this experience-memory vivid in my mind. And lo and behold, no amount of "projecting casualness" is going to come from this woman. I am, to the slight disappointment of that gendered-shy-feminine-fragile piece of my Self, undeniably authoritative. No amount of tucking my chin down, no amount of peeking out the tops of my eyes, no amount of shrugging or smiling is going to convince anyone I'm not in charge. I clearly am, on that video, and frankly, I'd be all those other things I'm going for - likable, affable, funny, charming - if I just listened to my mother and grandmothers, and "Stood Up Straight!"
If I threw my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and really spoke - I could actually be great at this public speaking thing, and not just decent. Whether or not this qualifies as a realization, or as a blog-worthy piece of self-awareness is up to you. But before you weigh in, try it. Record yourself in front of an audience and then watch it just as soon as you've had a little snack and a walk around the block. You might be shocked at what you find!
Thursday, June 21, 2012
2 more.
You know YUPpies... you know DINKs... you probably even know BOBOs... Young Urban Professionals, Dual Incomes No Kids, and the paradise-dwelling Bohemian-Bourgeois.
But let's all add two more, learned this week on NPR: HENRYs and SITKOMs.
High Earners; Not Rich Yet.
Single Income, Two Kids, Oppressive Mortgage.
I'm not sure the last one is real. Was it a joke stuck on the end of the story by the reporter? Either way, I know some STIKOMs and some HENRYs and will happily toss these terms in next round of banter in which I find myself.
But let's all add two more, learned this week on NPR: HENRYs and SITKOMs.
High Earners; Not Rich Yet.
Single Income, Two Kids, Oppressive Mortgage.
I'm not sure the last one is real. Was it a joke stuck on the end of the story by the reporter? Either way, I know some STIKOMs and some HENRYs and will happily toss these terms in next round of banter in which I find myself.
Monday, November 14, 2011
So, I got an iPhone...
... and some people may have noticed I am doing even LESS phone-calling than I was doing before. (Bill, I know you think this is impossible. Turns out it is not!) And I think the iPhone promotes this. It's such a handy little personal computer, such an intimate little screen all customized for you - that the actual phone call feels like nothing but an intrusion. Conspiracy? Or maybe Steve Jobs hated talking on the phone, too, and he just brought us all along with him. You never know.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Brrrrr.
Like starting up a cold car, I am chugging back to the blog with great deliberation. The slow turnover of the engine... trying to roll down the windows, which are in half-frozen slow-motion...
Yes, like any great piece of procrastination art, the hardest part is over: I'm here on The Blog Home Page. But it is too late to do more than let the engine run for a few minutes. I'll think of something especially funny or interesting on the next post! Thanks for stopping by, I'm just warming up.
Yes, like any great piece of procrastination art, the hardest part is over: I'm here on The Blog Home Page. But it is too late to do more than let the engine run for a few minutes. I'll think of something especially funny or interesting on the next post! Thanks for stopping by, I'm just warming up.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Customized
I like to talk and ruminate on what I call our "customized living". If you have a perfect piece of customized living, please share in the comments!! I'm always taking new ideas.
For example, I have a Bose wave radio that I *love* in my kitchen/living room/dining room area. I listen to it morning, noon and night, mostly NPR, in lieu of TV news and entertainment. It's right there, with a remote by the couch, but I also have an On/Off/Mute remote button that is on a magnet, attached to the fridge. So when I am cooking and it gets noisy, I can turn it up. When the phone rings, I can mute it for a moment. I don't have to walk allllll the way to the remote by the couch, dripping water/grease/cake batter. This is the customized life.
Today, I realized how ridiculous this is... and I realized another one... I hate dust pans. I don't mind sweeping; it can be very satisfying. But using a dust pan? That is like 10,000 year old technology that doesn't fully work. So I've customized a hilarious and wonderful solution. I sweep all my little piles up, then put the broom away, and instead, zip past with the best-$50-I-ever-spent - also known as my Dirt Devil handheld vacuum, also known to Gen X as a Dustbuster. It lives tucked under the shit table* and my dirt piles are 100% gone! Better than a dust pan! Conveniently located! Tah-dah! Customized.
*Shit Table: A household necessity. A table that is large enough to hold mail, keys, coupons, change, sunglasses, phone chargers and a small amount of "other" items but NOT large enough to hold too much. That's the key. And, it is right by the front door, to keep counters and dining room tables clean, avoiding the dread All Horizontal Surfaces Covered in Papers & More (TM) household illness.
For example, I have a Bose wave radio that I *love* in my kitchen/living room/dining room area. I listen to it morning, noon and night, mostly NPR, in lieu of TV news and entertainment. It's right there, with a remote by the couch, but I also have an On/Off/Mute remote button that is on a magnet, attached to the fridge. So when I am cooking and it gets noisy, I can turn it up. When the phone rings, I can mute it for a moment. I don't have to walk allllll the way to the remote by the couch, dripping water/grease/cake batter. This is the customized life.
Today, I realized how ridiculous this is... and I realized another one... I hate dust pans. I don't mind sweeping; it can be very satisfying. But using a dust pan? That is like 10,000 year old technology that doesn't fully work. So I've customized a hilarious and wonderful solution. I sweep all my little piles up, then put the broom away, and instead, zip past with the best-$50-I-ever-spent - also known as my Dirt Devil handheld vacuum, also known to Gen X as a Dustbuster. It lives tucked under the shit table* and my dirt piles are 100% gone! Better than a dust pan! Conveniently located! Tah-dah! Customized.
*Shit Table: A household necessity. A table that is large enough to hold mail, keys, coupons, change, sunglasses, phone chargers and a small amount of "other" items but NOT large enough to hold too much. That's the key. And, it is right by the front door, to keep counters and dining room tables clean, avoiding the dread All Horizontal Surfaces Covered in Papers & More (TM) household illness.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Sick Day.
I took a sick day this week, to nip a sore throat in the bud before it bloomed into a full-scale cold or flu. And a future post will be dedicated to how difficult it is to even take a sick day... and my belief they should all be called flex days, so that the many Puritan Americans like myself can be free to take one when needed (mental health, physical health, or just a "day").
But that day is not today.
Today I just wanted to note what I had around me while sick, for maximum comfort:
But that day is not today.
Today I just wanted to note what I had around me while sick, for maximum comfort:
- One radio remote, to turn NPR on and off the fancy Bose wave radio.
- One Kindle with two books in which I am currently mid-read.
- One iPod and sound dock at hand, with accompanying remote. (Sound dock is not the radio aforementioned.)
- One laptop.
- One iPad.
- One personal cell phone.
- One work BlackBerry to keep a partial eye on the vital emails flowing in all day.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Do you Twitter?
I do not. However, it is worth your time to read the "feed" of "Rahm Emanuel". Those are not misplaced quotes a la this hilarious grammar-nerd blog, but properly placed, since the Twitter account is not, of course, that of Chicago mayor contender Rahm Emanuel.
However, with tweets like this from the Bears-Packers championship game when the third string quarterback was sent in:
And then tweets like this, from his TV viewing of half State of the Union, half "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" marathon:
it is a gem. And not for those who don't like swearing, clearly. Enjoy it here: http://twitter.com/mayoremanuel/
However, with tweets like this from the Bears-Packers championship game when the third string quarterback was sent in:
- Jesus fucking Christ. They're just pulling people out of the fucking stands to be quarterback at this point, aren't they?
And then tweets like this, from his TV viewing of half State of the Union, half "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" marathon:
- I thought the speech was pretty great. I mean, it's a tough situat... HOW THE FUCK DOES SHE NOT KNOW SHE'S FUCKING PREGANT?!
it is a gem. And not for those who don't like swearing, clearly. Enjoy it here: http://twitter.com/mayoremanuel/
Thursday, November 4, 2010
LOLZ
Text message exchange that I participated in yesterday, with my texts in bold and italics. Punctuation has been transcribed with precision.
Uh-oh. Sorry, I don't have your number in my phone so I don't know who this is.
Dude.Seriously.
This is Emily.
Nopeee!Try again.
No you idiot, I am Emily. Either you have the wrong number or I don't have you programmed in my phone.
Do you know Justin Haskins?
...
...
What school do you go to?
Don't know Justin, and no school. I am 30 years old and at work right now.
oh god!Sorry! My bad!
Hey!Hows it going?;)
Dude.Seriously.
This is Emily.
Nopeee!Try again.
No you idiot, I am Emily. Either you have the wrong number or I don't have you programmed in my phone.
Do you know Justin Haskins?
...
...
What school do you go to?
Don't know Justin, and no school. I am 30 years old and at work right now.
oh god!Sorry! My bad!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Taking Calls.
As Jen says, when life gets full, the blog gets empty. I'm going to make it up to you as we close out summer - the unofficial end of summer, anyhow.
I don't write very often about work, but this week, there was a significant article written in The Gray Lady about my boss. It was a complex piece of op-ed journalism about the federal budget that dared to touch on the third rail: Social Security.
All seemed well in the office for the next 36 hours, until a progressive group that I've supported in the past jumped on it, sent out an email to a few million e-subscribers, and asked them to call in and tell us how they feel. Their email also contained a blatant lie, and I'm not sure yet how they get away with it; will they have to retract it? Anyhow... in the meantime...
Away we go with the phones! It was just like the days before the health reform bill passed. Call after call after call... and of course each and every constituent has a right to express their opinion... but it did mean I was unable to help an 18 year old who needs to prove his citizenship and is lost in a paperwork maze (he has to wait till Monday) and unable to help a constituent whose property outside the U.S. has been siezed by local authorities.
Instead, I spoke with 8 or 10 folks about their thoughts on the article. Except... not ONE had read it. They'd all read the incorrect, inflammatory and 100-word e-blast. But none had clicked on the link and read the source material. They vehemently asked for cuts in defense spending and ag subsidies instead... which I softly pointed out the source article showed the boss is in major favor of. "Oh. Really?" And then, "Yes," I'd say. "If you have the time and access to the internet, I recommend reading the article. There's a link at the bottom of your email, and it is quite an interesting article."
So, some days I'm impressed with the dedication of people around my community.
And some days I want to say, oh you impressive elecorate, picking up the phone with no knowledge but lots of feelings! Go, you! Asshats.
My favorite person said, "Well, yeah, I started to read it, but I just didn't have the time!" I know the feeling, dude. I was also hoping to get back to my actual work.
I don't write very often about work, but this week, there was a significant article written in The Gray Lady about my boss. It was a complex piece of op-ed journalism about the federal budget that dared to touch on the third rail: Social Security.
All seemed well in the office for the next 36 hours, until a progressive group that I've supported in the past jumped on it, sent out an email to a few million e-subscribers, and asked them to call in and tell us how they feel. Their email also contained a blatant lie, and I'm not sure yet how they get away with it; will they have to retract it? Anyhow... in the meantime...
Away we go with the phones! It was just like the days before the health reform bill passed. Call after call after call... and of course each and every constituent has a right to express their opinion... but it did mean I was unable to help an 18 year old who needs to prove his citizenship and is lost in a paperwork maze (he has to wait till Monday) and unable to help a constituent whose property outside the U.S. has been siezed by local authorities.
Instead, I spoke with 8 or 10 folks about their thoughts on the article. Except... not ONE had read it. They'd all read the incorrect, inflammatory and 100-word e-blast. But none had clicked on the link and read the source material. They vehemently asked for cuts in defense spending and ag subsidies instead... which I softly pointed out the source article showed the boss is in major favor of. "Oh. Really?" And then, "Yes," I'd say. "If you have the time and access to the internet, I recommend reading the article. There's a link at the bottom of your email, and it is quite an interesting article."
So, some days I'm impressed with the dedication of people around my community.
And some days I want to say, oh you impressive elecorate, picking up the phone with no knowledge but lots of feelings! Go, you! Asshats.
My favorite person said, "Well, yeah, I started to read it, but I just didn't have the time!" I know the feeling, dude. I was also hoping to get back to my actual work.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
A Pause in Judgement.
My judgmental attitude is no secret. I've crafted and honed it; I can form an opinion in Olympic medal-winning time. When Michael Jackson died last year, I didn't have any pity or sadness. I was only fascinated to watch it tsunami over Twitter and Facebook, as I was on those sites for work all day and saw the bandwidth shudder under the "news".
I confidently came down on the side of those who were shocked by the outpouring of support for Jackson. I thought, what happened to the man who settled out of court on child molestation charges? Pop culture has a short memory - but this short?
However, an article introducing a new insomnia blog page at NYTimes.com was printed yesterday. It talked about Americans spending thousands of dollars on fancy sheets, perfect mattresses, aromatherapy and nighttime music.... all the while still drinking too much alcohol and caffeine, staying up watching TV, pushing ourselves with few hours of rest. And author Patricia Morrisroe wrote:
I confidently came down on the side of those who were shocked by the outpouring of support for Jackson. I thought, what happened to the man who settled out of court on child molestation charges? Pop culture has a short memory - but this short?
However, an article introducing a new insomnia blog page at NYTimes.com was printed yesterday. It talked about Americans spending thousands of dollars on fancy sheets, perfect mattresses, aromatherapy and nighttime music.... all the while still drinking too much alcohol and caffeine, staying up watching TV, pushing ourselves with few hours of rest. And author Patricia Morrisroe wrote:
I can’t think of anyone more dissimilar to the hard-boiled Hemingway than Michael Jackson, yet he too suffered from chronic insomnia. One can only imagine the pressure Jackson was under rehearsing for a grueling world tour with the sadly prophetic title, “This Is It.” Over the years sleeping pills and other tranquilizers had lost their effectiveness to the point that he demanded that his doctor administer the powerful anesthetic propofol, which was later ruled a major factor in his death. Jackson referred to it as his “milk.” There’s something terribly sad about someone wanting to sleep so badly that he’d opt for a hospital anesthetic, rather than the old-fashioned sedative: a cup of warm milk.And so even my epic heights of judgment stop and pause. I take a breath, and I remember the Buddhist advice to treat every living being as if he or she is (or has been) your own loving mother. How much compassion can you muster for your mother when she is pain? Imagine mustering that compassion for every rude driver, every unhelpful customer service rep, every sad celebrity. And I let my weekend be time for more practice in this compassion.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
All I know is, I *don't* want to know.
Why does the Target brand spray-and-leave-on shower cleaner work so much better than the stuff that is twice or three times as much?
And more eerily, why does the $1.99 XCEL brand (Walgreen's) drain unclogger stuff work amazingly well, when the $5.99 Liquid Plumr or Drano don't work worth a lump of coal?
I refuse to look at ingredients. Or country of origin/production.
And more eerily, why does the $1.99 XCEL brand (Walgreen's) drain unclogger stuff work amazingly well, when the $5.99 Liquid Plumr or Drano don't work worth a lump of coal?
I refuse to look at ingredients. Or country of origin/production.
Hangover.
Not the usual kind, but the kind from too much (mental) cotton candy... also known as "Sex and the City" on DVD.
In the way that traveling and eating only junk food eventually inspires cravings for spinach salad and sauteed beet greens; in the way that too many Netflix'ed documentaries means a viewing of "Blue Crush" becomes required... this is the way that watching too much "Sex and the City" makes a person uninterested in any number of normally fun things: high heels, having sex, telling people "I'm a writer", drinking at morning brunch, talking about men.
But never cigarettes or curly hair. If there are two things the inimitable SJP can do, it's smoke a cigarette sexily (making even this never-again-smoker want a Parliament) and rock the curly hair (making this new-to-embracing-her-curls woman want to wear 'em au naturel).
In the way that traveling and eating only junk food eventually inspires cravings for spinach salad and sauteed beet greens; in the way that too many Netflix'ed documentaries means a viewing of "Blue Crush" becomes required... this is the way that watching too much "Sex and the City" makes a person uninterested in any number of normally fun things: high heels, having sex, telling people "I'm a writer", drinking at morning brunch, talking about men.
But never cigarettes or curly hair. If there are two things the inimitable SJP can do, it's smoke a cigarette sexily (making even this never-again-smoker want a Parliament) and rock the curly hair (making this new-to-embracing-her-curls woman want to wear 'em au naturel).
Thursday, November 5, 2009
A Convenient Inconvenience.
I have never locked my keys in the car. Knock wood rightnow, eh?
I have never locked my keys in my car... before yesterday.
I have great excuses! I do! I was at the mechanic and my new car has one key to unlock and another for the ignition. I jumped in with car with a friend, tossed down the unlocker and used the other in the ignition. Off we went.
I know, I know, shoulda just put 'em back on the key ring immediately. But what if I broke a nail? (That's so me, right, worried about nails? No, I was just focused on getting the errand done as soon as possible.)
Shut the car door (at Costco) and walked toward the doors, thinking immediately, hmmm. Where's that pesky unlocking key? Looked, looked, looked some more, ignoring the distant memory of tossing in the change dish, and then remembered that for two years, we've had AAA and I've never used it. Called, chatted with a very friendly dispatcher, did my shopping, got the automated "We are 5 Minutes Away" call, met the truck at the front door of Costco, unlocked it, and went on my merry way.
They say there is no such thing as luck. That "luck" is merely being prepared for the opportunity you want. I love this idea, because it means career and creative-life advances don't bump you on the head. (Glen Hansard... an overnight success 20 years in the making.) Someone might offer you a teaching gig, a book deal, a photo shoot for a catalog... but if you haven't gotten your degree, written that novel or kept your body in shape, then the opportunity won't matter.
So I feel this experience - - - could have been a $100 mistake and giant pain in the ass, but ended up taking about six minutes out of my day and not a dime outside of our yearly AAA investment - - - is a great corollary to the idea that there is no luck. Because it means there is no bad luck, either. I knew, despite all that knocking-on-wood, that I would someday lock my keys in the car. Having planned a day to exist with a AAA card and 45 minutes to kill inside Costco meant it I just had quite possibly the most convenient inconvenience ever. And luck's got nothing to do with it.
I have never locked my keys in my car... before yesterday.
I have great excuses! I do! I was at the mechanic and my new car has one key to unlock and another for the ignition. I jumped in with car with a friend, tossed down the unlocker and used the other in the ignition. Off we went.
I know, I know, shoulda just put 'em back on the key ring immediately. But what if I broke a nail? (That's so me, right, worried about nails? No, I was just focused on getting the errand done as soon as possible.)
Shut the car door (at Costco) and walked toward the doors, thinking immediately, hmmm. Where's that pesky unlocking key? Looked, looked, looked some more, ignoring the distant memory of tossing in the change dish, and then remembered that for two years, we've had AAA and I've never used it. Called, chatted with a very friendly dispatcher, did my shopping, got the automated "We are 5 Minutes Away" call, met the truck at the front door of Costco, unlocked it, and went on my merry way.
They say there is no such thing as luck. That "luck" is merely being prepared for the opportunity you want. I love this idea, because it means career and creative-life advances don't bump you on the head. (Glen Hansard... an overnight success 20 years in the making.) Someone might offer you a teaching gig, a book deal, a photo shoot for a catalog... but if you haven't gotten your degree, written that novel or kept your body in shape, then the opportunity won't matter.
So I feel this experience - - - could have been a $100 mistake and giant pain in the ass, but ended up taking about six minutes out of my day and not a dime outside of our yearly AAA investment - - - is a great corollary to the idea that there is no luck. Because it means there is no bad luck, either. I knew, despite all that knocking-on-wood, that I would someday lock my keys in the car. Having planned a day to exist with a AAA card and 45 minutes to kill inside Costco meant it I just had quite possibly the most convenient inconvenience ever. And luck's got nothing to do with it.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
A slice of this American life.
So I have been working since I was 15. That's 13 years of solid work, with nothing but a little time off here and there for travel, and a sum total of probably 3 months when I was out of work by choice, playing a bit between jobs.
I've worked full time, part time, 1099, W2, under the table, you name it. I've held up to three paying jobs at once. Did you know that that top line on your income taxes, Gross Income, is not the same as Adjusted Gross Income?
You probably DO know this.
From your Gross Income, you take out things like 401(k) contributions and any of your bulk health care costs, maybe what you're putting into a traditional IRA. Then you end up with your Adjusted Gross Income, from which you pay taxes.
My Gross Income and Adjusted Gross Income have always been identical, and you know why? I've never had benefits. Not one. Not one paid vacation afternoon, not a single sick day where I didn't lose money because I couldn't work, not a dime into retirement savings* and don't make me chuckle with thoughts of someone other than me paying for health insurance. How weird is that?! I didn't know there WAS a difference between GI and AGI. I don't know what all that says about my working history, my understanding of taxes or the earning power of a Bachelor's degree in today's economy, but it must say something.
In the meantime, yes I have health insurance and the "*" above means that I put some benjamins into a Roth IRA, so I pay my taxes on this end instead of the retirement end.
But I was sighing and laughing last night when taxes were being kindly explained to me by my husband, which prompted me to exclaim, "It must be so expensive to run a small business!" He laughed. I hope you do, too.
I've worked full time, part time, 1099, W2, under the table, you name it. I've held up to three paying jobs at once. Did you know that that top line on your income taxes, Gross Income, is not the same as Adjusted Gross Income?
You probably DO know this.
From your Gross Income, you take out things like 401(k) contributions and any of your bulk health care costs, maybe what you're putting into a traditional IRA. Then you end up with your Adjusted Gross Income, from which you pay taxes.
My Gross Income and Adjusted Gross Income have always been identical, and you know why? I've never had benefits. Not one. Not one paid vacation afternoon, not a single sick day where I didn't lose money because I couldn't work, not a dime into retirement savings* and don't make me chuckle with thoughts of someone other than me paying for health insurance. How weird is that?! I didn't know there WAS a difference between GI and AGI. I don't know what all that says about my working history, my understanding of taxes or the earning power of a Bachelor's degree in today's economy, but it must say something.
In the meantime, yes I have health insurance and the "*" above means that I put some benjamins into a Roth IRA, so I pay my taxes on this end instead of the retirement end.
But I was sighing and laughing last night when taxes were being kindly explained to me by my husband, which prompted me to exclaim, "It must be so expensive to run a small business!" He laughed. I hope you do, too.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Put on your thinking caps...
.... because my husband John is today's Guest Blogger, The Financial Thinker With A Political Mind Guru Guest Blogger! Comments especially welcome, to be answered by the man himself, The FTWaPMGGB.
Enjoy!
38 years ago, when the United States unilaterally withdrew from the Bretton Woods Agreements, the gold standard was abandoned and the American Dollar became the world’s effective foreign exchange reserve currency.
This engendered a system of policies whereby those countries that could effectively compete with the dollar became increasingly self-sufficient, whereas those whose currencies that were weak had strong incentives to become net-selling trading partners with the United States, in order to grow their economy with dollars.
The trade imbalance between the US and China is a direct result of this system of incentives. The Chinese hold over $1.3(T) in US paper and unlike gold, the US government can create dollars out of thin air.
The US doesn’t make much of anything anymore. Anecdotally, the places I’ve lived in my 28 years have shared in common the trait of having manufacturing facilities closing down in favor of moving those services outside of the US. This outsourcing occurs when the places that manufacture US domestic goods and services share two traits: their local country lacks the protections afforded American workers and therefore have a natural competitive advantage in terms of labor cost (which is, in general, the number one expense contributing to the cost of goods sold), and they have an incentive to be paid in dollars.
Historically, the US government does not like high unemployment and will take steps to put downward pressure on this figure. But manufacturing, as a proportion of the whole economy, has shrunk from 28% to 12% in the past 56 years. The jobs shed in this sector are similar in that they typically were stable, full time, and career-oriented jobs with benefits that had minimum educational requirements to be filled and also had some manual labor component.
Is this what the US government means when it uses terms like “jobless recovery”? Are they finally saying “arrivederci!” to that type of labor in the US? Did the 250,000 manufacturing jobs lost from 11/2008-12/2008 alone, did they simply evaporate?
If there’s one thing the housing bubble achieved, it was a whole heck of a lot of construction - a significant amount of renovation, but a vast amount of new construction. But now we’ve found that construction boom to largely be the result of a lot unregulated lending practices coupled with good old-fashioned greed and a culture that promotes entitlement.
I wonder what a long term 10-12% unemployment looks like in the US.
I wonder if there’s much sense in continuing to invest in US dollars. Auditing the Federal Reserve should be demanded not just by the likes of Ron Paul. The Independent recently claimed that oil producing countries and their largest customers, such as China and Brazil, have agreed to abandon the practice of trading oil in US dollars in favor of a basket of currencies including the Yuan and Euro by 2018. And the Fed keeps printing.
In a way, it will be great when the US dollar is no longer the standard. Perhaps our national priorities will finally move us to self-sufficiency when we can compete individually with all other countries instead of having everyone simply compete against the US. Perhaps we’ll become more enlightened members of the global community.
For now, I’d invest in gold (I am not an investment advisor). It is negatively correlated with the value of the dollar, which looks a lot like the Titanic must’ve to some of those guys in the band.
Hand me a wig and a cane, because I will beat down the old dude that steps in my way of those lifeboats!
écrasez l'infâme!
Enjoy!
38 years ago, when the United States unilaterally withdrew from the Bretton Woods Agreements, the gold standard was abandoned and the American Dollar became the world’s effective foreign exchange reserve currency.
This engendered a system of policies whereby those countries that could effectively compete with the dollar became increasingly self-sufficient, whereas those whose currencies that were weak had strong incentives to become net-selling trading partners with the United States, in order to grow their economy with dollars.
The trade imbalance between the US and China is a direct result of this system of incentives. The Chinese hold over $1.3(T) in US paper and unlike gold, the US government can create dollars out of thin air.
The US doesn’t make much of anything anymore. Anecdotally, the places I’ve lived in my 28 years have shared in common the trait of having manufacturing facilities closing down in favor of moving those services outside of the US. This outsourcing occurs when the places that manufacture US domestic goods and services share two traits: their local country lacks the protections afforded American workers and therefore have a natural competitive advantage in terms of labor cost (which is, in general, the number one expense contributing to the cost of goods sold), and they have an incentive to be paid in dollars.
Historically, the US government does not like high unemployment and will take steps to put downward pressure on this figure. But manufacturing, as a proportion of the whole economy, has shrunk from 28% to 12% in the past 56 years. The jobs shed in this sector are similar in that they typically were stable, full time, and career-oriented jobs with benefits that had minimum educational requirements to be filled and also had some manual labor component.
Is this what the US government means when it uses terms like “jobless recovery”? Are they finally saying “arrivederci!” to that type of labor in the US? Did the 250,000 manufacturing jobs lost from 11/2008-12/2008 alone, did they simply evaporate?
If there’s one thing the housing bubble achieved, it was a whole heck of a lot of construction - a significant amount of renovation, but a vast amount of new construction. But now we’ve found that construction boom to largely be the result of a lot unregulated lending practices coupled with good old-fashioned greed and a culture that promotes entitlement.
I wonder what a long term 10-12% unemployment looks like in the US.
I wonder if there’s much sense in continuing to invest in US dollars. Auditing the Federal Reserve should be demanded not just by the likes of Ron Paul. The Independent recently claimed that oil producing countries and their largest customers, such as China and Brazil, have agreed to abandon the practice of trading oil in US dollars in favor of a basket of currencies including the Yuan and Euro by 2018. And the Fed keeps printing.
In a way, it will be great when the US dollar is no longer the standard. Perhaps our national priorities will finally move us to self-sufficiency when we can compete individually with all other countries instead of having everyone simply compete against the US. Perhaps we’ll become more enlightened members of the global community.
For now, I’d invest in gold (I am not an investment advisor). It is negatively correlated with the value of the dollar, which looks a lot like the Titanic must’ve to some of those guys in the band.
Hand me a wig and a cane, because I will beat down the old dude that steps in my way of those lifeboats!
écrasez l'infâme!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
London? Who are you?
Don't install Google Analytics on your blog. It will leave you wondering who in London visited six pages and spent 4 minutes on your blog this week.
Also, who are you in Melbourne? You've visited twice, so it can't be a mistake, can it?
Also, who are you in Melbourne? You've visited twice, so it can't be a mistake, can it?
Monday, September 28, 2009
Notes from Our Idiocracy.
Some personal favorites from my Facebook work today... basically the opposite of Good Thing Friday. This is Pissed Off Monday; don't tell me the world isn't worth hating sometimes!
(These are different people, thank god. All on one page might cause spontaneous combustion. And they are not my personal friends. Even I'm not that dumb.)
Religious beliefs: Episcopalian yet Catholic, at the same time, some how! (Um, no. No you aren't. And you're an idiot.)
Favorite Books: Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Infinite Jest, Walden, The Bell Jar. (Guess how old this person is.)
Political Beliefs: Undecided. (This person is 29 years old. I'm not sure they ought to be advertising their inability to decide on something like this.)
(These are different people, thank god. All on one page might cause spontaneous combustion. And they are not my personal friends. Even I'm not that dumb.)
Religious beliefs: Episcopalian yet Catholic, at the same time, some how! (Um, no. No you aren't. And you're an idiot.)
Favorite Books: Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Infinite Jest, Walden, The Bell Jar. (Guess how old this person is.)
Political Beliefs: Undecided. (This person is 29 years old. I'm not sure they ought to be advertising their inability to decide on something like this.)
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