I remember talking about the quarter-life crisis phenomenon near the end of college, but I've never really felt like I was in one. Of course, I didn't hit my big teenage rebellion until I was 19, so maybe it's still coming.
Like most people my age, though, I have been doing my own share of wandering and looking for "my place" in society/the world/the universe. I moved up to DC a few months after college, sight unseen, not knowing any one. I can confess now that I did this mainly for two reasons: 1.) to have something to propel me out of Florida (which is not a terrible place, just the place where I was born, grew up, and went to school, and I wanted something new) and 2.) to get away from living in my parents' house. My parents are pretty great, but eventually that arrangement would probably have ended tragically.
After my first DC job left me ready to come running back to my parents' house in Florida and to declare defeat by DC, I managed to find another one that I've (generally speaking) liked.
But now it's time to move on from that as well. I suppose now is as good a time as any to announce it, so here goes! Over Labor Day, I proposed to my long-term and long-distance boyfriend, and he said yes, which is always nice. He teaches in Columbus, Ohio, and can't relocate, so I'm moving from DC to join him. I have just over a week of work left here, then a week to finish packing, and then I'm off! I plan to work as a consultant to my current company from Columbus and concentrate much more on free-lance and creative writing (and possibly other art projects). And no, no date yet. I'm not ready to get into all the wedding hysteria yet.
Now that I write it out so briefly here, that does seem like a quarter-life crisis (I just turned 26 a couple weeks ago). But it really doesn't feel like that while I'm living it. I feel more like I've given DC a chance and realized that, although it has a lot to offer and I've enjoyed most of my time here, it's not the city for me (more on this in a couple weeks when I pick the topic). On the other hand, I've found someone who is the person for me, so I might as well be with him while I give a new city a try. My visits to Columbus have really impressed me--so far the city (away from the campus) seems to have a good soul--and I'm really excited about the move. Plus, it will be nice to have Congressional representation again, although I don't yet know who those people will be.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
MFA
I sort of think my whole life has been a series of unending kinds of crises, so I'm not too sure if I can call my current reevaluation of my life any different than when I decided to be a filmmaker in high school.
See, that's what is called starting "in medias res," because I didn't explain what my crisis was before I started talking about it. Hooked? Well, as you all know and could probably tell from the title, my current situation-that-might-be-viewed-as-a-crisis-by-losers-in-law-school is me going to poetry school for an MFA. See, for a couple of brief semesters I was taking pre-med classes a few years ago, and then I decided that poetry was what I wanted to do, so even though it would put me in a substantial amount of debt and not guarantee me any kind of steady income in my life ever for as long as I live, I dropped all of the pre-med and applied to MFA programs. Now I'm almost done with my MFA here in Houston.
But maybe what is different about this phase in my life is that unlike rock star/astronaut/filmmaker/rock star/novelist/doctor/rock star, I am fully planning on continuing with the poetry writing and hopefully eventually teaching. So much so that I am applying to phds right now, which would be another 5 years of edumacation. So I guess I can understand the need to evaluate one's life in the mid-twenties.
For me the major catalyst for all of this latest change and evaluation started when I taught middle school. Long story short (you've all heard it before)- Sucked, people dumb, students lame, public school bureaucracy unsalvageable. That's when I was really in a funk for a while. I applied to 50 fucking jobs, and the only two I got were at a call center in Lake City where they hire everybody (I quit after I discovered they were going to pay me less than they had promised) and a job as a bag boy at Publix. I moved in with Laurie and her then boyfriend in a house in the Tallahassee ghetto at which we routinely had prostitutes bringing their johns onto our porch. I reenrolled in school to take pre-med classes. I aced them all, but all the pre-med students were whiny jerks, and it just wasn't any fun. My friends in Tallahassee who were all doing poetry stuff seemed to have so much fun, and although I could talk to them about poetry, I felt disconnected from the academic group. So after taking a class with Barbara Hamby, I decided "Fuck all this financial security business, Jeeves, I want to go to poetry school." Poetry was what I did that I liked the best, so why shouldn't I find a way to do that and get paid (someday, perhaps in crackers. Maybe the kind with peanut butter in the middle.) So I applied and got in the end.
Now things are going pretty well, and I'm happy with the decisions I've made, even if I can't get any of you guys to read or like poetry. Oh well! At least I've managed to talk everybody into agreeing that the Original Series is way better than Next Gen.
PS - A BSG milestone - this is the 800th time on Blog Supergroup that I've posted about poetry. A celebration is in order, I believe!
See, that's what is called starting "in medias res," because I didn't explain what my crisis was before I started talking about it. Hooked? Well, as you all know and could probably tell from the title, my current situation-that-might-be-viewed-as-a-crisis-by-losers-in-law-school is me going to poetry school for an MFA. See, for a couple of brief semesters I was taking pre-med classes a few years ago, and then I decided that poetry was what I wanted to do, so even though it would put me in a substantial amount of debt and not guarantee me any kind of steady income in my life ever for as long as I live, I dropped all of the pre-med and applied to MFA programs. Now I'm almost done with my MFA here in Houston.
But maybe what is different about this phase in my life is that unlike rock star/astronaut/filmmaker/rock star/novelist/doctor/rock star, I am fully planning on continuing with the poetry writing and hopefully eventually teaching. So much so that I am applying to phds right now, which would be another 5 years of edumacation. So I guess I can understand the need to evaluate one's life in the mid-twenties.
For me the major catalyst for all of this latest change and evaluation started when I taught middle school. Long story short (you've all heard it before)- Sucked, people dumb, students lame, public school bureaucracy unsalvageable. That's when I was really in a funk for a while. I applied to 50 fucking jobs, and the only two I got were at a call center in Lake City where they hire everybody (I quit after I discovered they were going to pay me less than they had promised) and a job as a bag boy at Publix. I moved in with Laurie and her then boyfriend in a house in the Tallahassee ghetto at which we routinely had prostitutes bringing their johns onto our porch. I reenrolled in school to take pre-med classes. I aced them all, but all the pre-med students were whiny jerks, and it just wasn't any fun. My friends in Tallahassee who were all doing poetry stuff seemed to have so much fun, and although I could talk to them about poetry, I felt disconnected from the academic group. So after taking a class with Barbara Hamby, I decided "Fuck all this financial security business, Jeeves, I want to go to poetry school." Poetry was what I did that I liked the best, so why shouldn't I find a way to do that and get paid (someday, perhaps in crackers. Maybe the kind with peanut butter in the middle.) So I applied and got in the end.
Now things are going pretty well, and I'm happy with the decisions I've made, even if I can't get any of you guys to read or like poetry. Oh well! At least I've managed to talk everybody into agreeing that the Original Series is way better than Next Gen.
PS - A BSG milestone - this is the 800th time on Blog Supergroup that I've posted about poetry. A celebration is in order, I believe!
Monday, November 26, 2007
i really didn't mean to suck...
i missed my day!!!
thanks for picking it up jane, and i'll cover yours.
i spent pretty much the whole day sunday on the phone with a very good friend i hadn't spoken to in a really long time, so the post didn't happen.
anyway, my connection ain't the speediest right now, so i'm gonna have to catch the show later.
i just hit the big 25 myself, so i guess i'm really at the QLC point, but i think i'm okay - i'm in a job that could potentially be a long-term career, which is great since i dropped out of college: my boss has expressed that she wouldn't mind my succeeding her when she retires in a few years, so if i want to stay in human resources forever, i could do that. it would eventually pay enough to get by on, even though the ymca is non-profit. i might not mind sticking with it, since it allows me to be nit-picky about details, and nobody else knows labor law at all so i can make up whatever bull-honkey i want and they'll believe it. that's kind of fun. i would like to own a home, but i'm resigned to renting as long as we live in southern cal, and we've got a retirement place set up in washington state as soon as we have enough money... so if i ever do write the books i keep thinking about, that might be sooner rather than later.
i'm basically content with life, or would be if we had a little more cash. anyone need a personal trainer?
thanks for picking it up jane, and i'll cover yours.
i spent pretty much the whole day sunday on the phone with a very good friend i hadn't spoken to in a really long time, so the post didn't happen.
anyway, my connection ain't the speediest right now, so i'm gonna have to catch the show later.
i just hit the big 25 myself, so i guess i'm really at the QLC point, but i think i'm okay - i'm in a job that could potentially be a long-term career, which is great since i dropped out of college: my boss has expressed that she wouldn't mind my succeeding her when she retires in a few years, so if i want to stay in human resources forever, i could do that. it would eventually pay enough to get by on, even though the ymca is non-profit. i might not mind sticking with it, since it allows me to be nit-picky about details, and nobody else knows labor law at all so i can make up whatever bull-honkey i want and they'll believe it. that's kind of fun. i would like to own a home, but i'm resigned to renting as long as we live in southern cal, and we've got a retirement place set up in washington state as soon as we have enough money... so if i ever do write the books i keep thinking about, that might be sooner rather than later.
i'm basically content with life, or would be if we had a little more cash. anyone need a personal trainer?
Quarterlife crisis, anyone?
Hi guys, it's me, Jane. I know I'm posting out of turn, but I'm covering Linda's spot this week. My topic of choice is rather multifaceted, so for you commenters and other BSG posters, feel free to address any (or all) aspects. Whichever moves you. Our topic of the week, if you can't guess, is the Quarterlife Crisis. We BSG bloggers are all in our mid (or in my case, late, but we don't need to focus on that) twenties, and I suspect that most of us have had, are having or will have a quarterlife crisis at some point pretty soon.
So what is a quarterlife crisis (QLC)? Growing up, I'd always heard of The Midlife Crisis, where stereotypically one freaks out at the impending arrival of old age, gets divorced, dates people way too young for one's age bracket, and buys a sports car. I first heard about QLCs when I was in the middle of mine. I'd say mine began my senior year of college (2001) - when I discovered that despite having been told all my life that a college degree would land me a great job, no one wanted to hire me - and ended with the penning of my manifesto in Fall 2005. I don't know if Melissa will remember this, but she was the one who first brought the term QLC to my attention. We had just returned from our first (and hellish) trip to South Korea, had no job, no job prospects and no real interest in real jobs anyway. I don't remember how she heard about QLCs, but when she described it to me I knew that it fit what I was going through exactly.
But what *is* a QLC? you ask. Well, according to wikipedia a QLC is a psychological "crisis" akin to the midlife-crisis, but occurring amongst those ages 21-29. Symptoms include (among other things) feeling "not good enough" because one can't find a job that is at one's academic/intellectual level, frustration with relationships, the working world, and finding a suitable job or career, confusion of identity, insecurity regarding the near future, and insecurity regarding present accomplishments. (That came from the wikipedia article on QLCs, which I highly recommend reading in its entirety.)
Anyhow, roughly six years after I first heard about this QLC concept, it seems to have hit the mainstream via... well, I was going to write TV show, but that's not the case at all. Quarterlife is an internet-based show. It's shown ONLY on the internet. However, it's not some sort of low-budget, made-for-the-net kind of production; it's got the production quality of a legit TV show. (I heard on NPR that because of the TV writers' strike, TV channels are negotiating with Quarterlife to air it on regular TV, as that show - being set entirely in new-media - had already negotiated a completely different contract with their writers. No clue as to how that will pan out.) Episodes last about fifteen minutes, and are posted on the Quarterlife site every Sunday and Thursday. I've actually found the show pretty engaging, thus far.
In addition to simply being a net show, quarterlife has its own social networking site (a la MySpace and Facebook) as well, where you can create your own profile, upload blogs, vlogs, etc, and even befriend the characters from the show. As a social networking site, quarterlife leaves much to be desired, as it's new and there are still quite a few kinks in the programming. But, never fear! The Quarterlife characters have MySpace pages! No, I don't mean that the actors playing these people have MySpace pages, I mean the characters have them. These pages are maintained as though these characters were real people [example]. They even have blogs, where they blog about things that have happened in the show... and entirely unrelated things like Hillary's candidacy and class divisions in the US. Which totally weirds me out. These are not real people!
So, things to think on this week: What do you think about quarterlife crises as a concept? Have you had one, or are you having one now? What were/are your QLC experiences? What are your thoughts on the Quarterlife internet show? What do you think about the idea of internet based "tv"? What do you think about being able to interact with characters from shows? Have fun!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Churkey (and other yummy goodness)
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I hope everyone had a great one. My Aunt Kathy is currently living with my mom, so there were three of us for the feast. My mom decided to cook (and stuff!) a chicken instead of a turkey. (Heehee, churkey.) I'm not entirely sure why she decided this, but it was fine by me, as I don't particularly like turkey. We also had three pies: pumpkin, sweetpotato and pecan. I really dislike sweetpotato pie. For years my mother has insisted that I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between pumpkin and sweetpotato, so yesterday I had a blind taste test. I immediately knew which one was yummy pumpkin pie and which was nasty sweetpotato. Hah! Anyway, the food was delicious, and even without a tryptophan-containing turkey, we all needed a serious nap after dinner. Here are some pictures of our feast:
And now for some random Thanksgiving tales:
While in college: Those of you from Lake City might possibly know who Cleopatra J. Steele is. For those of you who don't, she is a pastor of a somewhat cult-like church which operates just north of downtown Lake City in the rather, shall we say, ghettoish part of town. In addition to a church, she runs a thrift store and several halfway houses and homeless shelters, all in that neck of the woods. (My Aunt Kathy, the one currently living with my mom, suffers from severe mental illness. She has lived in a couple of Cleopatra's shelters, attended her church, and has known Cleopatra for years.) I've never been able to decide if Cleopatra is actually doing good, or if she's simply running a really good scam. Anyway, every year for Thanksgiving her church sponsors a dinner for the homeless and otherwise needy in an empty lot near her church. For two or three years while I was in college, Melissa and I (and sometimes her mom, sometimes my mom) would go to help serve the meals. Or well, the first year we went to help serve. After that we just went to eat. Yeah.
Thanksgiving 2001: Melissa and I had just returned from our really horrific trip to Korea. Melissa and most of her family went somewhere (North Carolina?). However, Alex (at the time Melissa's boyfriend, now her husband) and I remained in Lake City, taking care of Melissa's mentally and physically handicapped brother. Alex went home (to Macclenny, FL) for Thanksgiving dinner, and returned bearing tons of really yummy food. Yay! We watched a twenty-four hour Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon. Also, at some point during that weekend, Glenn and Stephanie stopped by. I'd just woken up and looked like crap and didn't want them to see me. I told Alex to tell them I wasn't there, but instead he invited them in and told them I was hiding behind the TV. Thanks a lot.
Thanksgiving 2003: I was living in San Diego, CA, and had been dating a certain guy since Halloween. Said certain guy had essentially no good qualities, except that he was a really good cook. He wanted to cook a true turkey-day feast, but between the supermarket workers strike and the fact that we didn't get around to shopping until the day before Thanksgiving, we couldn't find a turkey. So we bought and stuffed a chicken - my first churkey experience. And it was a delicious feast. If only said certain dude hadn't turned out to be a racist, sexist, alcoholic jackass, because he sure could cook.
Thanksgiving 2005: I was in Russia, and it was AWESOME. That day has it's own lengthy and picture-filled blog post, which you should totally check out by clicking here.
Thanksgiving 2006: For American Thanksgiving, I did not a damn thing. See, Korea has its own holiday of thanksgiving, called Chuseok. Chuseok 2006 was in early October (the date varies as it's based on the lunar calendar; Chuseok 2007 actually fell on my birthday, although I was no longer in Korea at the time). Anyhow, for Chuseok, I went with Gwen and Samson to his hometown for their family gathering and feast. It, too, was awesome and has it's own lengthy and picture-filled blog post, which you should most definitely check out by clicking here.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Making a Home for the Holidays
I love Thanksgiving. This is easily explained by another 3-word sentence: I love food. The last several years have been kind of unusual Thanksgivings, as I've not spent a lot of time within 1000 miles of my family in Florida.
2003: Montreal (1370 miles away)
2004: Montreal (ditto)
2005: Switzerland (4766 miles away)
2006: Florida (there's still a story here)
2007: Kitchener, Ontario (923 miles away)
When I can't get to my family for Thanksgiving, whether they are in Florida or North Carolina, I like to either 1) find a surrogate family (like Glenn does), or 2) have a nice meal anyway.
The first year in Montreal I kind of did a bit of both: a friend of ours -- who is actually from Luxembourg, not the US -- hosted a Thanksgiving with her roommates and other pals with turkey, crazy desserts, and all sorts of trimmings with a bizarre continental twist. It wasn't quite like a family occasion, since Sean was the only guy there and we were all in our twenties and unrelated, but there was a nice atmosphere and our hostess was/is a spectacular cook. Unfortunately, our friend didn't do Thanksgiving, part deux, for 2004. I don't really even remember what Sean and I did that year, so I am going to guess it involved going out to eat or something. Which is a nice idea, but not a proper Thanksgiving.
The Swiss Thanksgiving experience, though, was a really, really good time: a great excuse to round up a couple Americans, along with three Brits and a Canuck, and celebrate the food culture of the New World with some native English conversation as accompaniment. I found a 15 lb turkey somehow (turkeys are not so popular...) and called upon the spirit of "Holiday Mom" to pull off a roasted bird, stuffing, carrot souffle and mashed potatoes with some help from Sean and his roommate, Tavis. Unfortunately, while I had the day off, Sean and Tavis (American! from Alaska!) had to work. Tavis got off just in time to help me turn the turkey over, which would have been very difficult to do all by myself. He is also a really fabulous foodie and came through for us by cooking these Bailey's Irish Cream Molten Pots of Love (a kind of brownie with an oozy center and lots of booze) AND an apple pie completely from scratch! Holy shit! The Brits brought wine. The last American, a guy I met online, brought Ocean Spray cranberry sauce! It was a beautiful experience. I made sure to play my Christmas mp3s in lieu of watching the Charlie Brown special on TV.
Last year I WAS with my family. But we didn't have a proper Thanksgiving dinner: we were traveling on the Thursday and probably had frozen pizza or something. And on Friday we were in Sarasota eating a fancy seafood dinner on the beach with my brother's then-fiancee's family. Note the "then." It was magical.
And this year: it's 7:30am. I have been up for an hour and a half. I just did the dishes. I am about to start a turkey pot pie with roasted veg, veg gravy from stock cubes, store-bought pre-cooked turkey, and a frozen pie crust. When that is finished it's on to the pumpkin pie, again with store-bought crust. And at 1pm I start my shift at work, which goes til 6pm (to be fair, my boss offered me the day off...but Thanksgiving is not for daytime television by yourself). The food will be good, I know. The company (Sean) will be great, too. The Christmas wreath I bought for the front door doesn't fit behind the screen door and I have to make at least three long-distance phone calls later to get in touch with my family. I'm feeling kind of maudlin at this point, especially knowing that my two brothers at least have access to a pre-made frozen feast my parents left for them at their house and that my parents themselves will be enjoying a fine spread with some of our closest family friends.
But that's Thanksgiving as I know it: improvising, searching out turkey in foreign lands, and enjoying the best (foodiest) holiday of all with as many other willing parties as possible. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and hope you have a great, gluttonous time, however you manage to celebrate!
2003: Montreal (1370 miles away)
2004: Montreal (ditto)
2005: Switzerland (4766 miles away)
2006: Florida (there's still a story here)
2007: Kitchener, Ontario (923 miles away)
When I can't get to my family for Thanksgiving, whether they are in Florida or North Carolina, I like to either 1) find a surrogate family (like Glenn does), or 2) have a nice meal anyway.
The first year in Montreal I kind of did a bit of both: a friend of ours -- who is actually from Luxembourg, not the US -- hosted a Thanksgiving with her roommates and other pals with turkey, crazy desserts, and all sorts of trimmings with a bizarre continental twist. It wasn't quite like a family occasion, since Sean was the only guy there and we were all in our twenties and unrelated, but there was a nice atmosphere and our hostess was/is a spectacular cook. Unfortunately, our friend didn't do Thanksgiving, part deux, for 2004. I don't really even remember what Sean and I did that year, so I am going to guess it involved going out to eat or something. Which is a nice idea, but not a proper Thanksgiving.
The Swiss Thanksgiving experience, though, was a really, really good time: a great excuse to round up a couple Americans, along with three Brits and a Canuck, and celebrate the food culture of the New World with some native English conversation as accompaniment. I found a 15 lb turkey somehow (turkeys are not so popular...) and called upon the spirit of "Holiday Mom" to pull off a roasted bird, stuffing, carrot souffle and mashed potatoes with some help from Sean and his roommate, Tavis. Unfortunately, while I had the day off, Sean and Tavis (American! from Alaska!) had to work. Tavis got off just in time to help me turn the turkey over, which would have been very difficult to do all by myself. He is also a really fabulous foodie and came through for us by cooking these Bailey's Irish Cream Molten Pots of Love (a kind of brownie with an oozy center and lots of booze) AND an apple pie completely from scratch! Holy shit! The Brits brought wine. The last American, a guy I met online, brought Ocean Spray cranberry sauce! It was a beautiful experience. I made sure to play my Christmas mp3s in lieu of watching the Charlie Brown special on TV.
Last year I WAS with my family. But we didn't have a proper Thanksgiving dinner: we were traveling on the Thursday and probably had frozen pizza or something. And on Friday we were in Sarasota eating a fancy seafood dinner on the beach with my brother's then-fiancee's family. Note the "then." It was magical.
And this year: it's 7:30am. I have been up for an hour and a half. I just did the dishes. I am about to start a turkey pot pie with roasted veg, veg gravy from stock cubes, store-bought pre-cooked turkey, and a frozen pie crust. When that is finished it's on to the pumpkin pie, again with store-bought crust. And at 1pm I start my shift at work, which goes til 6pm (to be fair, my boss offered me the day off...but Thanksgiving is not for daytime television by yourself). The food will be good, I know. The company (Sean) will be great, too. The Christmas wreath I bought for the front door doesn't fit behind the screen door and I have to make at least three long-distance phone calls later to get in touch with my family. I'm feeling kind of maudlin at this point, especially knowing that my two brothers at least have access to a pre-made frozen feast my parents left for them at their house and that my parents themselves will be enjoying a fine spread with some of our closest family friends.
But that's Thanksgiving as I know it: improvising, searching out turkey in foreign lands, and enjoying the best (foodiest) holiday of all with as many other willing parties as possible. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and hope you have a great, gluttonous time, however you manage to celebrate!
Give thanks and whatnot
So it's that time of year again- Thanksgiving! And it's also the time of year that those of us who are blessed with OCD and of thinking way too much reassess the year that is almost over and what the heck just happened, and what there is to be thankful for.
For me, this year has been quite the tumultuous one. I had a major existential crisis and a bit of a breakdown. I was forced, by the aforementioned crisis as well as other factors, to evaluate my life here and everything I am doing. I missed two weeks of work, after which I got called into my boss' office, told to shut the door...and received a promotion. I got my own office and the responsibility of nine City departments' budgets. I broke up with my girlfriend of almost three years. I got saddled with the financial burden of suddenly having to take care of things I hadn't had to before. I attempted to somewhat get back into the dating scene, and the first person I met, well, let's just say it turned into a huge disaster very quickly. I had to undergo heart tests, one of which took six hours rendered me basically unconscious. I was handed down a disastrously wrong diagnosis and ended up going to the doctor to get reevaluated more times than I'd care to remember for something false. I deal by proxy with some family crises. I ran out of money on more than one occasion (many more, frankly). My "faith" was shaken and I was forced to evaluate my spirituality, or lack thereof, which was a hugely difficult situation considering it was not one I was concerned with for 20-something years. I turned 27 and watched friends move on in their lives, some getting married, etc., while I continued to live the so-called "bachelor" life and pursued my own ends.
But I still have a lot to be thankful for. My family continues to recover from some issues from the past couple of years and seems to be doing better than ever. Most importantly, they are all still here. I keep in touch with friends, for the most part regardless of our distances and differences, and feel blessed that I get to share in their joys. I just reconnected with an old friend I love very dearly and just to my excitement found out I will get to see him again after nearly three years of not even being able to speak with him. I have found some amount of "faith" in my life and a newfound spirituality which seems to have filled a void in my life. My crises reaffirmed my passions in life and reaffirmed to myself that I am on the right track; stepping back from my situation gave me the wonderful chance to see, from the outside, just how lucky I've been and just how happy I am and how right my choices have been. My relationship with my ex has blossomed into a wonderful, caring and comfortable friendship, one which we never had before. My biggest crisis this year also forced also to grow up, and to learn what it actually meant to be an adult and to be grown up and responsible, independent of any outside forces or expectations. I've had to take a hard look at my personality and figure out what defines me and "who" I am and am going to be. I've come out of the ordeals of this past year stronger, more grown up, and more mature, while also holding a newfound appreciation for the people, places, and things in my life, as well as my all-important sense of humor, which has only gotten stronger. And this year saw me come out of the other end of my struggles a stronger person and more passionate, and one more step on the way to achieving my dreams.
I have spent the last several months thinking that 2007 has been the worst, or at least the most exceedingly difficult, year I've had in my 27 years of living, at least from what I can remember (there are some high school times that would be hard to beat if I really thought about it). And 2007 has been the worst year of my (at least adult) life, no question. However, now I also realize that it might have been just what I needed; that the trials actually made me a much stronger, and much happier person. Don't make any mistake though: I'm still a curmudgeon. I wouldn't be Nick if I weren't grouchy. (A funny story: when I was going through the worst of my breakdown earlier this year, for several weeks I was not grouchy, not complaining about stuff, getting worked up about something on the news or in the car. One day, I saw something on TV and became very grouchy and began yelling at the TV. The person who was in the room with me, my ex and current best friend I believe, commented "Nick's back")
This year, I am thankful for my family and their love and support, especially my baby brother who is growing up too fast- this will be his last Thanksgiving at home before he goes off to college. I am thankful that he has listened to his big brother and has not made the same mistakes that I made. I am thankful for the beautiful friends that I have. I'm thankful that I have been given the opportunities I have been given, and that even in the middle of my crises, I was able to rise to the occasion. And yes, I'm thankful for my breakdown this year and the trials I have had. I'm thankful for the appreciation for my life it has afforded me, as well as he fact that I am now a more responsible, ethical, better person, with a clear picture of who I want to be and where I am going. I'm more confident now than I was before. I feel complete just being myself, not feeling I need any outside forces or influences to be "complete." And, of course, I'm thankful that I'm here to be thankful at all.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving.
For me, this year has been quite the tumultuous one. I had a major existential crisis and a bit of a breakdown. I was forced, by the aforementioned crisis as well as other factors, to evaluate my life here and everything I am doing. I missed two weeks of work, after which I got called into my boss' office, told to shut the door...and received a promotion. I got my own office and the responsibility of nine City departments' budgets. I broke up with my girlfriend of almost three years. I got saddled with the financial burden of suddenly having to take care of things I hadn't had to before. I attempted to somewhat get back into the dating scene, and the first person I met, well, let's just say it turned into a huge disaster very quickly. I had to undergo heart tests, one of which took six hours rendered me basically unconscious. I was handed down a disastrously wrong diagnosis and ended up going to the doctor to get reevaluated more times than I'd care to remember for something false. I deal by proxy with some family crises. I ran out of money on more than one occasion (many more, frankly). My "faith" was shaken and I was forced to evaluate my spirituality, or lack thereof, which was a hugely difficult situation considering it was not one I was concerned with for 20-something years. I turned 27 and watched friends move on in their lives, some getting married, etc., while I continued to live the so-called "bachelor" life and pursued my own ends.
But I still have a lot to be thankful for. My family continues to recover from some issues from the past couple of years and seems to be doing better than ever. Most importantly, they are all still here. I keep in touch with friends, for the most part regardless of our distances and differences, and feel blessed that I get to share in their joys. I just reconnected with an old friend I love very dearly and just to my excitement found out I will get to see him again after nearly three years of not even being able to speak with him. I have found some amount of "faith" in my life and a newfound spirituality which seems to have filled a void in my life. My crises reaffirmed my passions in life and reaffirmed to myself that I am on the right track; stepping back from my situation gave me the wonderful chance to see, from the outside, just how lucky I've been and just how happy I am and how right my choices have been. My relationship with my ex has blossomed into a wonderful, caring and comfortable friendship, one which we never had before. My biggest crisis this year also forced also to grow up, and to learn what it actually meant to be an adult and to be grown up and responsible, independent of any outside forces or expectations. I've had to take a hard look at my personality and figure out what defines me and "who" I am and am going to be. I've come out of the ordeals of this past year stronger, more grown up, and more mature, while also holding a newfound appreciation for the people, places, and things in my life, as well as my all-important sense of humor, which has only gotten stronger. And this year saw me come out of the other end of my struggles a stronger person and more passionate, and one more step on the way to achieving my dreams.
I have spent the last several months thinking that 2007 has been the worst, or at least the most exceedingly difficult, year I've had in my 27 years of living, at least from what I can remember (there are some high school times that would be hard to beat if I really thought about it). And 2007 has been the worst year of my (at least adult) life, no question. However, now I also realize that it might have been just what I needed; that the trials actually made me a much stronger, and much happier person. Don't make any mistake though: I'm still a curmudgeon. I wouldn't be Nick if I weren't grouchy. (A funny story: when I was going through the worst of my breakdown earlier this year, for several weeks I was not grouchy, not complaining about stuff, getting worked up about something on the news or in the car. One day, I saw something on TV and became very grouchy and began yelling at the TV. The person who was in the room with me, my ex and current best friend I believe, commented "Nick's back")
This year, I am thankful for my family and their love and support, especially my baby brother who is growing up too fast- this will be his last Thanksgiving at home before he goes off to college. I am thankful that he has listened to his big brother and has not made the same mistakes that I made. I am thankful for the beautiful friends that I have. I'm thankful that I have been given the opportunities I have been given, and that even in the middle of my crises, I was able to rise to the occasion. And yes, I'm thankful for my breakdown this year and the trials I have had. I'm thankful for the appreciation for my life it has afforded me, as well as he fact that I am now a more responsible, ethical, better person, with a clear picture of who I want to be and where I am going. I'm more confident now than I was before. I feel complete just being myself, not feeling I need any outside forces or influences to be "complete." And, of course, I'm thankful that I'm here to be thankful at all.
I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
I love pumpkin pie.
Thanksgiving has never been too much of a big deal for me. It's not that big a holiday in the old country (just one Monday off), and while it was nice to have a 4 or 5 day weekend whenever we moved to the States, it's just never been that special. We used to eat every meal together as a family as kids, and we never had extended family over.
But I haven't even been home for Thanksgiving in almost 10 years. Maybe I went my freshman year of college. I don't remember. Usually I would just buddy up with some friends (the Killians a few times, and the Schulzes) and eat with their families. The past few years I've just done things with other people who weren't going home with their families.
One thing that I get excited around this time of year for is pumpkin pie, and other pumpkin flavored items. (They have pumpkin spice beer at a lot of bars around town right now, but every single one is always out of it, so I think it's a big lie and none of them really have it. Also, people just equate "cinnamon" with "pumpkin spice," so it's probably gross anyway). Pumpkin is my favorite seasonal flavor. It's way better than peppermint (Christmas), peep (Easter), watermelon (summertime), and even cadbury filling (Easter). Maybe it isn't way better than cadbury filling, but it's still better. Even as I write this out (and maybe that's why I'm writing it out) I am wondering who in the Houston area I can call to go grab some pumpkin pie from House of Pies. This morning for breakfast I had an english muffin with pumpkin butter on it. I wish there was pumpkin flavored Cheerios or some other cereal.
Other food items I like at Thanksgiving: turkey, dressing, green bean casserole.
Does Jones Soda have a pumpkin flavored item this year?
It's been so long I forget how to conclude a blog entry.
Forsooth?
But I haven't even been home for Thanksgiving in almost 10 years. Maybe I went my freshman year of college. I don't remember. Usually I would just buddy up with some friends (the Killians a few times, and the Schulzes) and eat with their families. The past few years I've just done things with other people who weren't going home with their families.
One thing that I get excited around this time of year for is pumpkin pie, and other pumpkin flavored items. (They have pumpkin spice beer at a lot of bars around town right now, but every single one is always out of it, so I think it's a big lie and none of them really have it. Also, people just equate "cinnamon" with "pumpkin spice," so it's probably gross anyway). Pumpkin is my favorite seasonal flavor. It's way better than peppermint (Christmas), peep (Easter), watermelon (summertime), and even cadbury filling (Easter). Maybe it isn't way better than cadbury filling, but it's still better. Even as I write this out (and maybe that's why I'm writing it out) I am wondering who in the Houston area I can call to go grab some pumpkin pie from House of Pies. This morning for breakfast I had an english muffin with pumpkin butter on it. I wish there was pumpkin flavored Cheerios or some other cereal.
Other food items I like at Thanksgiving: turkey, dressing, green bean casserole.
Does Jones Soda have a pumpkin flavored item this year?
It's been so long I forget how to conclude a blog entry.
Forsooth?
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Wandering thanks
Almost every year, my immediate family spends Thanksgiving in the North Carolina mountains. My aunt and uncle have owned a cabin up there for years (they, like my parents, live in Florida), and they like my family to go up for Thanksgiving to air it out and clean it up before they come up for Christmas. We love it because it was usually the only time of year we could really see fall colors (sometimes) and every once in a while, it would snow!! This is super-exciting for a Florida family, and we spent a lot of time building snowpeople and sledding and throwing snowballs.
The best story to come from this, though, is a lot funnier in retrospect than it was at the time. On Thanksgiving day several years ago, before we put the turkey in the oven but after breakfast, we decided to go on a mid-morning hike. Not long after we started up the gravel road, we all agreed that we were pretty tough and adventurous and capable (a sudden infusion of mountain air can do strange things to otherwise sane people), and we decided to instead to climb straight up one of the mountains to see what was on the other side. This was no towering peak, so when we scrambled up and saw what was there, we felt unchallenged enough to climb up the next hill. I can't remember how long this went on before one of us finally stopped and noticed that we'd all lost track of which direction we'd come from.
While my family does go camping sometimes, we are expressly not hunters. I don't think there's ever been a gun in my house. In fact, I pretty much grew up equating guns with TV murderers (which I don't think is probably a bad thing, but that's another topic). So we were all getting a little nervous when we started hearing the ricocheting echoes of gun shots. My dad assured us people were just out hunting turkeys (my brother and I had seen more than enough cartoons to find this reasonable), but then we started hearing some turkeys gobbling nearby and moved away from them quickly. Later, we came across an old hunting shed with a few wooden benches, no locks, and bullet holes in the windows. I thought for sure there would be a dead body, but luckily there wasn't.
This went on for several more hours until finally we stumbled into an open pasture sloping down into a farm (farmers often don't put fences on the higher side of their farms in that area because the animals don't go up to far and what kind of crazy people would be wandering down from up there?). We passed a few cows, who ignored us, some dogs (my mom swore they were wolves, but I think they were dogs since they were in the farm and not eating things) who followed us suspiciously, then a pig pen with a sow suckling a whole litter of piglets. Eventually, and somehow without getting shot at by the farm's owner, we found the house trailer, complete with a deer strung up from a tree out front, bleeding out. I don't think any of us had EVER seen something like that deer: back feet tied at the ankles to a thick tree branch, both snout and front hooves reaching for the ground, bright white stomach, eyes open, blood dripping slowly off the nose. Ick. My mom stayed with my brother and me in the front while my dad knocked on the door to ask directions back to our cabin.
Following the directions along the road, we found we were still quite a few miles from where we had started. We were exhausted and hungry, but we followed the driveway back down to the hard road, hobbled along it for at least another hour, then turned up our gravel drive for another 30 minutes or so right up the side of the mountain.
All told, I think the whole "walk" was about 4 or 5 hours. As soon as we got home we collapsed in exhaustion for a while, then got up to make Thanksgiving dinner! There weren't very many leftovers.
This year, we have a new place to visit! The aunt and uncle who own the cabin we usually stay in bought the land across the gravel road and built a few houses with one of their contractor friends who lives year-round farther up the mountain. My parents bought one and I think it just finished construction, so this year we'll be staying in the new cabin. Eventually, my aunt and uncle want to tear down their small, comfortable cabin and build a big one to retire in (there's talk about donating it to the fire department to use as a practice house, but we'll see). We've had a lot of fun memories in that cabin, and it will be hard to give up. But I guess all traditions fade away eventually. For example, now when we take pre-dinner hikes, we try to stick to the roads.
The best story to come from this, though, is a lot funnier in retrospect than it was at the time. On Thanksgiving day several years ago, before we put the turkey in the oven but after breakfast, we decided to go on a mid-morning hike. Not long after we started up the gravel road, we all agreed that we were pretty tough and adventurous and capable (a sudden infusion of mountain air can do strange things to otherwise sane people), and we decided to instead to climb straight up one of the mountains to see what was on the other side. This was no towering peak, so when we scrambled up and saw what was there, we felt unchallenged enough to climb up the next hill. I can't remember how long this went on before one of us finally stopped and noticed that we'd all lost track of which direction we'd come from.
While my family does go camping sometimes, we are expressly not hunters. I don't think there's ever been a gun in my house. In fact, I pretty much grew up equating guns with TV murderers (which I don't think is probably a bad thing, but that's another topic). So we were all getting a little nervous when we started hearing the ricocheting echoes of gun shots. My dad assured us people were just out hunting turkeys (my brother and I had seen more than enough cartoons to find this reasonable), but then we started hearing some turkeys gobbling nearby and moved away from them quickly. Later, we came across an old hunting shed with a few wooden benches, no locks, and bullet holes in the windows. I thought for sure there would be a dead body, but luckily there wasn't.
This went on for several more hours until finally we stumbled into an open pasture sloping down into a farm (farmers often don't put fences on the higher side of their farms in that area because the animals don't go up to far and what kind of crazy people would be wandering down from up there?). We passed a few cows, who ignored us, some dogs (my mom swore they were wolves, but I think they were dogs since they were in the farm and not eating things) who followed us suspiciously, then a pig pen with a sow suckling a whole litter of piglets. Eventually, and somehow without getting shot at by the farm's owner, we found the house trailer, complete with a deer strung up from a tree out front, bleeding out. I don't think any of us had EVER seen something like that deer: back feet tied at the ankles to a thick tree branch, both snout and front hooves reaching for the ground, bright white stomach, eyes open, blood dripping slowly off the nose. Ick. My mom stayed with my brother and me in the front while my dad knocked on the door to ask directions back to our cabin.
Following the directions along the road, we found we were still quite a few miles from where we had started. We were exhausted and hungry, but we followed the driveway back down to the hard road, hobbled along it for at least another hour, then turned up our gravel drive for another 30 minutes or so right up the side of the mountain.
All told, I think the whole "walk" was about 4 or 5 hours. As soon as we got home we collapsed in exhaustion for a while, then got up to make Thanksgiving dinner! There weren't very many leftovers.
This year, we have a new place to visit! The aunt and uncle who own the cabin we usually stay in bought the land across the gravel road and built a few houses with one of their contractor friends who lives year-round farther up the mountain. My parents bought one and I think it just finished construction, so this year we'll be staying in the new cabin. Eventually, my aunt and uncle want to tear down their small, comfortable cabin and build a big one to retire in (there's talk about donating it to the fire department to use as a practice house, but we'll see). We've had a lot of fun memories in that cabin, and it will be hard to give up. But I guess all traditions fade away eventually. For example, now when we take pre-dinner hikes, we try to stick to the roads.
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Ghosts of Thanksgiving Past
My past two Thanksgivings haven't been the best, so I'm a little apprehensive as to what's going to happen this year. Am I going to have to move again, or is it going to be an all-out family war like always? Anyways, in an attempt to get this blog rolling again, this week's topic is Thanksgiving. I am being a tad bit lazy and resubmitting old posts from my other blog, but in my defense, they're quite amusing.
Nov 2006
Thanksgiving and the Apocalpyse - Together at Last!
Thanksgiving didn't exactly start out the best way. The day before, our landlord called to tell us she had sold our house. We now have until Dec 31st to move out. Huzzah! What a start to that day! Actually, I had no idea - but my mother decided to call me at work to tell me for some reason - I actually dreaded being at work more that usual.
The next day I went over to have the big Thanksgiving meal. I've been house sitting - hence why I had to go over. It was cool (house sitting that is) because I got to hang out with Laurie (her family drives her crazy too, so she had been staying with me since Monday) - not to mention the week away from my family. We spent the morning watching What Not to Wear.
Lunch started out normal enough, but then we started talking about moving, and why my mother might possibly lose her job. (**Not in the original post** - this apparently seems to be an annual problem, as just a month or so ago I was looking for places to move because she wanted to quit before she got fired. She hasn't quit -- yet) As soon as Kellie was done eating, she got up and went to take a nap. I got done soon afterward and started to get up from the table. My mother laid a guilt trip about me leaving - and I guess she had a point - she wasn't even done eating yet. I said that I would stay and talk, but I had things I had to do that afternoon.
So I sit on the couch and she starts harassing me about what I'm going to do about my future - saying I shouldn't go back to school, and I need to make a plan. I tried to switch gears and talk about moving again. A friend of our family has a house he's going to sell, and earlier we were talking about renting it from him. I told her that if he would let us, we should just buy it from him. She says she didn't want to - and then starts in about the end times. She's ranting about how everything will be electronic - no more cash - and how she's not going to take a chip from the government. WTF?! Where did this come from? At this point in time I told her to shut up, and that I was leaving, and walked out the door.
EVERYTHING becomes a religious argument. EVERYTHING comes around to the end times. If the end times are so soon then why should I give a fuck about my future? Doesn't seem like I have much of one. Christians have been awaiting the end times ever since Christ's resurrection. There are groups of people who gave up all they had because they were certain the apocalypse was right around the corner. Also - all the Christians are supposed to have raptured or whatever before the Antichrist and the mark of the beast - so why is she even worried about it?
I called the next day to talk to Kellie about what we were going to buy people for Christmas. I needed to ask my mom how much I owed her, because I had given her $50 earlier in the week. I made the mistake of asking how she made the leap from buying a house to the apocalypse, and she started talking about how she wasn't going to be a slave to any government, company, or person, and how she was trying to pay off all her debts. Apparently someone at the temple (Messianic Jewish) brought in a clip about people implanting chips or something. I pointed out that some people still buried money in the backyard - we're too attached to cash right now for anything that drastic to happen. I just hope she doesn't take to burying the money - I'm sure it's the next step before she decides to start re-enacting the movie Frailty ( I swear that's going to happen one day).
Nov 2005
Thanksgiving and the 7th Level of Hell
It actually wasn't that bad. But would you have read it if I had titled it "The Happy Thanksgiving of Smiles and Angel Kisses"? Well ok, you might...weirdos.
Ok so I burned the fuck out of my hand, and got a lecture while I was dying of pain about how my mother hoped I wouldn't cuss like that when I had kids. WTF? I'm not even in any kind of a relationship. I'm not even CLOSE to dating someone, so where the hell does she come up with kids? Im sorry, let me hold your hand on the burner and see if you don't cuss. Hypocrite.
Then Judy called. She was bringing someone with her. (Oh God...the Christian Cowboy! {for those of you unfamiliar with him, see the post titled "As if you NEEDED a reason to think my family is crazy"}). Actually not him, but his daughter. Apparently there were family problems and she needed to get away. From my encounter with him it's understandable.
So they came, and we ate, and things were rather normal. And then came the time that my sister and I had to talk to the girl while my mom and Judy were busy in the kitchen. She started talking about the horses out at Judy's. Next thing I know she says "Oh yeah, and Judy told me about how you guys let Nosey out". I just looked at her, and after I counted to 10 a couple of times, said "There's a little more to that story". And left it at that. (In your face MOM, who thinks I have anger management issues).
So we're talking some more, and the next thing that grabs my attention is "So I heard you met my dad". Kellie and I just looked at each other. "Yeah I know, he's pretty rude". Not such a bad kid after all. There was definitely a gap, she was 11, and we didn't have much to talk about (I didn't dare bring up the topic of Harry Potter), but it wasn't the disaster I thought it was going to be.
Completely unrelated note - everyone should go to http://www.gunthernet.com/ and watch a crazy German with a sexy mullet and too much lip gloss (yes, I'm talking about a guy) sing some, um, interesting songs.
Nov 2006
Thanksgiving and the Apocalpyse - Together at Last!
Thanksgiving didn't exactly start out the best way. The day before, our landlord called to tell us she had sold our house. We now have until Dec 31st to move out. Huzzah! What a start to that day! Actually, I had no idea - but my mother decided to call me at work to tell me for some reason - I actually dreaded being at work more that usual.
The next day I went over to have the big Thanksgiving meal. I've been house sitting - hence why I had to go over. It was cool (house sitting that is) because I got to hang out with Laurie (her family drives her crazy too, so she had been staying with me since Monday) - not to mention the week away from my family. We spent the morning watching What Not to Wear.
Lunch started out normal enough, but then we started talking about moving, and why my mother might possibly lose her job. (**Not in the original post** - this apparently seems to be an annual problem, as just a month or so ago I was looking for places to move because she wanted to quit before she got fired. She hasn't quit -- yet) As soon as Kellie was done eating, she got up and went to take a nap. I got done soon afterward and started to get up from the table. My mother laid a guilt trip about me leaving - and I guess she had a point - she wasn't even done eating yet. I said that I would stay and talk, but I had things I had to do that afternoon.
So I sit on the couch and she starts harassing me about what I'm going to do about my future - saying I shouldn't go back to school, and I need to make a plan. I tried to switch gears and talk about moving again. A friend of our family has a house he's going to sell, and earlier we were talking about renting it from him. I told her that if he would let us, we should just buy it from him. She says she didn't want to - and then starts in about the end times. She's ranting about how everything will be electronic - no more cash - and how she's not going to take a chip from the government. WTF?! Where did this come from? At this point in time I told her to shut up, and that I was leaving, and walked out the door.
EVERYTHING becomes a religious argument. EVERYTHING comes around to the end times. If the end times are so soon then why should I give a fuck about my future? Doesn't seem like I have much of one. Christians have been awaiting the end times ever since Christ's resurrection. There are groups of people who gave up all they had because they were certain the apocalypse was right around the corner. Also - all the Christians are supposed to have raptured or whatever before the Antichrist and the mark of the beast - so why is she even worried about it?
I called the next day to talk to Kellie about what we were going to buy people for Christmas. I needed to ask my mom how much I owed her, because I had given her $50 earlier in the week. I made the mistake of asking how she made the leap from buying a house to the apocalypse, and she started talking about how she wasn't going to be a slave to any government, company, or person, and how she was trying to pay off all her debts. Apparently someone at the temple (Messianic Jewish) brought in a clip about people implanting chips or something. I pointed out that some people still buried money in the backyard - we're too attached to cash right now for anything that drastic to happen. I just hope she doesn't take to burying the money - I'm sure it's the next step before she decides to start re-enacting the movie Frailty ( I swear that's going to happen one day).
Nov 2005
Thanksgiving and the 7th Level of Hell
It actually wasn't that bad. But would you have read it if I had titled it "The Happy Thanksgiving of Smiles and Angel Kisses"? Well ok, you might...weirdos.
Ok so I burned the fuck out of my hand, and got a lecture while I was dying of pain about how my mother hoped I wouldn't cuss like that when I had kids. WTF? I'm not even in any kind of a relationship. I'm not even CLOSE to dating someone, so where the hell does she come up with kids? Im sorry, let me hold your hand on the burner and see if you don't cuss. Hypocrite.
Then Judy called. She was bringing someone with her. (Oh God...the Christian Cowboy! {for those of you unfamiliar with him, see the post titled "As if you NEEDED a reason to think my family is crazy"}). Actually not him, but his daughter. Apparently there were family problems and she needed to get away. From my encounter with him it's understandable.
So they came, and we ate, and things were rather normal. And then came the time that my sister and I had to talk to the girl while my mom and Judy were busy in the kitchen. She started talking about the horses out at Judy's. Next thing I know she says "Oh yeah, and Judy told me about how you guys let Nosey out". I just looked at her, and after I counted to 10 a couple of times, said "There's a little more to that story". And left it at that. (In your face MOM, who thinks I have anger management issues).
So we're talking some more, and the next thing that grabs my attention is "So I heard you met my dad". Kellie and I just looked at each other. "Yeah I know, he's pretty rude". Not such a bad kid after all. There was definitely a gap, she was 11, and we didn't have much to talk about (I didn't dare bring up the topic of Harry Potter), but it wasn't the disaster I thought it was going to be.
Completely unrelated note - everyone should go to http://www.gunthernet.com/ and watch a crazy German with a sexy mullet and too much lip gloss (yes, I'm talking about a guy) sing some, um, interesting songs.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Happy Halloween!
Hope everyone's making the most of this awesome holiday! (And don't forget - all that Halloween candy is 1/2 price tomorrow!)
Thursday, October 25, 2007
community - altruist or survival in numbers
okay, i think it's my turn for a topic, and it seems like we're done with the macabre-ness, so here's what i've got:
I won’t pretend that this post isn’t influenced by the san diego wildfires. I was struck by the orderliness of the evacuations and the dedication of volunteers to aid evacuees and fire victims – at one point qualcomm stadium (the main evacuation location) asked that no more food donations be brought there, as they had more than enough and were having to throw away uneaten hot food after mealtimes. several people made the comparison between that and the superdome. there were no killings at qualcomm, no robberies that anyone heard of, no waiting four days for someone else to bring water. unorganized people organized themselves to the point where there was a makeshift hospital at the stadium. volunteer doctors and nurses ran basic triage and were in communication with ambulances for anyone in an emergency. other patients were taken to donated cots or donated chairs and given treatment with donated medical supplies. a young man called a local radio station to announce that he and his friend had brewed up 14 gallons of coffee and would be serving it at section b2 of the stadium. a family with 4 children was interviewed on the news – the father said that the kids were being entertained by games, tv, even a clown! many, many people and organizations announced via radio that they were able to house people and/or animals (i.e. “I have three acres of fenced in grass on my ranch that is available for any large animals that have been evacuated. Please call…”). so I’m thinking about all this and wondering what prompts people to do these things? to go so far out of their way to help those in need?
I took part in a debate once in a psychology class regarding pure altruism: does it really exist. for context, this was at byu, so there were religious elements involved in the discussion. the “there is such a thing as a purely altruistic act” side’s main argument involved examples of people providing church service (proselytizing, etc.). my side argued that those people who proselyte (at least purportedly) believe that they will be rewarded in heaven for such acts, and thus are not likely to do the service without at least considering the reward. I didn’t believe that true altruism existed for a long time, but both the outpouring of help from the san diego community, and (I’m sure this is odd, but whatever!) the recent you-tube battle of kruger - among lions, a croc, and a herd of water buffalo (watch it at www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU8DDYz68kM) have shaken that lack of belief. the buffalo attacking lions made me consider instinctive protection of the young of a species, which could be construed as altruism to an extent, if one considers altruism to be defined as “action taken without hope of personal gain”. personal – as in to each individual buffalo. the species as a whole would benefit, but not each buffalo. in the same line of thinking, there are humans who make extraordinary efforts to protect children.
but not all the san diegans receiving help were children.
so, did people help out just so they could meet the governor? to put on their resume? because they were bored? I know that there are several reasons, but thinking about them makes me want to retry the debate: is there such a thing as a purely altruistic act? what do you think?
I won’t pretend that this post isn’t influenced by the san diego wildfires. I was struck by the orderliness of the evacuations and the dedication of volunteers to aid evacuees and fire victims – at one point qualcomm stadium (the main evacuation location) asked that no more food donations be brought there, as they had more than enough and were having to throw away uneaten hot food after mealtimes. several people made the comparison between that and the superdome. there were no killings at qualcomm, no robberies that anyone heard of, no waiting four days for someone else to bring water. unorganized people organized themselves to the point where there was a makeshift hospital at the stadium. volunteer doctors and nurses ran basic triage and were in communication with ambulances for anyone in an emergency. other patients were taken to donated cots or donated chairs and given treatment with donated medical supplies. a young man called a local radio station to announce that he and his friend had brewed up 14 gallons of coffee and would be serving it at section b2 of the stadium. a family with 4 children was interviewed on the news – the father said that the kids were being entertained by games, tv, even a clown! many, many people and organizations announced via radio that they were able to house people and/or animals (i.e. “I have three acres of fenced in grass on my ranch that is available for any large animals that have been evacuated. Please call…”). so I’m thinking about all this and wondering what prompts people to do these things? to go so far out of their way to help those in need?
I took part in a debate once in a psychology class regarding pure altruism: does it really exist. for context, this was at byu, so there were religious elements involved in the discussion. the “there is such a thing as a purely altruistic act” side’s main argument involved examples of people providing church service (proselytizing, etc.). my side argued that those people who proselyte (at least purportedly) believe that they will be rewarded in heaven for such acts, and thus are not likely to do the service without at least considering the reward. I didn’t believe that true altruism existed for a long time, but both the outpouring of help from the san diego community, and (I’m sure this is odd, but whatever!) the recent you-tube battle of kruger - among lions, a croc, and a herd of water buffalo (watch it at www.youtube.com/watch?v=LU8DDYz68kM) have shaken that lack of belief. the buffalo attacking lions made me consider instinctive protection of the young of a species, which could be construed as altruism to an extent, if one considers altruism to be defined as “action taken without hope of personal gain”. personal – as in to each individual buffalo. the species as a whole would benefit, but not each buffalo. in the same line of thinking, there are humans who make extraordinary efforts to protect children.
but not all the san diegans receiving help were children.
so, did people help out just so they could meet the governor? to put on their resume? because they were bored? I know that there are several reasons, but thinking about them makes me want to retry the debate: is there such a thing as a purely altruistic act? what do you think?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
macabre-o-cult
i've always been completely creeped out by anything having to do with death or dead people. shoot, i have a hard time watching movies with skulls and bones (realistic ones anyway). i've only ever been to one funeral and it was for someone i had never met. i nearly vomited at the viewing. i can only imagine how bad it would be if i knew the person. i watched the others in the theater and cringed when the dead people photos were on screen. i can't even eat dead animal if i can tell what part of the animal it used to be, and giblets - forget it! so maybe the macabre isn't my forte for discussion. the occult, well, i know lots of people think i'm part of a cult since i'm officially mormon, but i'm thinking more the halloween-ey kind of occult... i know that the first jack-o-lanterns were people heads on spikes and they evolved to being scooped-out turnips before pumpkins became well-known. beyond that - i'm sorry guys: i read a horoscope once in a while, but that's about as occult as i get. consider me "interested but grossed out and kinda lazy" in that department.
To add to the hair jewelry discussion - a history museum out here in california had a stiched wall sampler made of hair. the tour guide told me that girls (in the 1800s) used to collect their own hair to stitch with. that struck me as something i would do because i'm too cheap to buy thread.
To add to the hair jewelry discussion - a history museum out here in california had a stiched wall sampler made of hair. the tour guide told me that girls (in the 1800s) used to collect their own hair to stitch with. that struck me as something i would do because i'm too cheap to buy thread.
Memento Mori
Since last week's theme was death and dying and this week we're exploring the occult, this is what I've come up with.
***********
Hardly anyone does mourning really stylishly anymore. Stephanie and I found a pamphlet at her church about mourning "successfully" or something, but there were no tips on doing it in style. Sadly, the decorum of death is in decline.
In my travels I have noted a couple of macabre traditions kept alive in cultures outside of North America. My favourite is the frightening stationery still used in Germany that makes life like a suspenseful and tragic film. Picture this: it's a normal sunny day, the birds are singing, and the air is fresh and clean. You're going through your daily routing with a bounce in your step, unaware of what lurks in your mailbox. When it does come time to sort your bills from your catalogues, you crumple into a trembling, sobbing, big mushy pile before you open a single envelope! Why? This.
That's the envelope that tells you someone you love is dead before you have to read anything. I watched my host mother collapse in the above manner twice. And, while she is pretty melodramatic, I think I would have freaked out, too, if I were the addressee.
Another fascinating tradition we no longer follow (unless "we" are Italian grandmothers from the old country) is mourning dress. I am not exactly sure when this went out, but it was probably sometime soon after Victoria died and the upper class in Britain were freed from the bondage of perpetual mourning. (Queen Victoria lost her husband forty years BEFORE she died. And, as far as I know, she wore her mourning garb for those forty years...and her court did, too.) We all know about the wearing black thing. It's commonly seen at funerals today, though that is changing as well. 150 years ago black extended beyond the fabric of those big poofy dresses and took over jewellery and ornament. Victoria single-handedly made a boomtown of Whitby, England, the source of most of the world's jet (an organic gemstone related to charcoal) throughout the nineteenth century and into the twentieth. A very common design for "traditional" jewellery is still simple onyx pendants and rings, often set with a small diamond. When these designs were first popular they were commemorating the dead. Now we are just adjusted to the aesthetic.
Jet jewels and onyx with diamonds are pretty tame, though, in the realm of mourning dress. If you want to get macabre (and verge on occult), why not try earrings made of human hair? Though hair was often collected from a loved one and treasured in a locket during their lifetime, it was very fashionable -- for a time -- to make and wear entire suites of jewellery from the hair of your dead brother. Yikes. Weaving hair takes talent, but so does gluing individual strands onto an ivory disk to "paint" a commemorative picture! The Georgians were big on this and the results are quite impressive. The effect is far subtler and less itchy than that of the woven designs.
However, my favourite facet of the decorum of death is the memento mori theme that appears in jewellery, with or without some dead guy's locks. Basically, it was acceptable to decorate your body with skulls and skeletons long before goths were looking gloomy in suburban malls. The skeleton, Death, was meant as a reminder that we all die and as a memorial to someone deceased. Some of the most striking and wearable mourning jewellery involves fine enamel work of the grim reaper himself. It is imagery that has remained relevant and I am a sucker for fine enamel work.
How is this occult? It's pretty mainstream when the queen is leading the way, but mourning traditions like the scary stationery and strict uniforms of black are, I think, examples of magical thinking. "I have to follow this procedure when X dies. Otherwise, I haven't honoured him correctly." Or, worse yet: "I have to follow this procedure. Otherwise, X won't rest well in the afterlife." That's pretty straightforward. And we can examine these tokens as lasting evidence of these personalities' existence, which is the best part of all. We all know about Queen Victoria, but mourning jewellery that anyone can buy, treasure, and wear didn't ever belong to her. It belonged to people of "no importance" and commemorates the dead who would otherwise be completely forgotten. Each creepy hair earring is a tiny shrine to a life once lived and the alarming dedication of his survivors.
And that's cool.
(For a great look at mourning jewellery both sold and for sale, visit www.thingsgoneby.com)
***********
Hardly anyone does mourning really stylishly anymore. Stephanie and I found a pamphlet at her church about mourning "successfully" or something, but there were no tips on doing it in style. Sadly, the decorum of death is in decline.
In my travels I have noted a couple of macabre traditions kept alive in cultures outside of North America. My favourite is the frightening stationery still used in Germany that makes life like a suspenseful and tragic film. Picture this: it's a normal sunny day, the birds are singing, and the air is fresh and clean. You're going through your daily routing with a bounce in your step, unaware of what lurks in your mailbox. When it does come time to sort your bills from your catalogues, you crumple into a trembling, sobbing, big mushy pile before you open a single envelope! Why? This.
That's the envelope that tells you someone you love is dead before you have to read anything. I watched my host mother collapse in the above manner twice. And, while she is pretty melodramatic, I think I would have freaked out, too, if I were the addressee.
Another fascinating tradition we no longer follow (unless "we" are Italian grandmothers from the old country) is mourning dress. I am not exactly sure when this went out, but it was probably sometime soon after Victoria died and the upper class in Britain were freed from the bondage of perpetual mourning. (Queen Victoria lost her husband forty years BEFORE she died. And, as far as I know, she wore her mourning garb for those forty years...and her court did, too.) We all know about the wearing black thing. It's commonly seen at funerals today, though that is changing as well. 150 years ago black extended beyond the fabric of those big poofy dresses and took over jewellery and ornament. Victoria single-handedly made a boomtown of Whitby, England, the source of most of the world's jet (an organic gemstone related to charcoal) throughout the nineteenth century and into the twentieth. A very common design for "traditional" jewellery is still simple onyx pendants and rings, often set with a small diamond. When these designs were first popular they were commemorating the dead. Now we are just adjusted to the aesthetic.
Jet jewels and onyx with diamonds are pretty tame, though, in the realm of mourning dress. If you want to get macabre (and verge on occult), why not try earrings made of human hair? Though hair was often collected from a loved one and treasured in a locket during their lifetime, it was very fashionable -- for a time -- to make and wear entire suites of jewellery from the hair of your dead brother. Yikes. Weaving hair takes talent, but so does gluing individual strands onto an ivory disk to "paint" a commemorative picture! The Georgians were big on this and the results are quite impressive. The effect is far subtler and less itchy than that of the woven designs.
However, my favourite facet of the decorum of death is the memento mori theme that appears in jewellery, with or without some dead guy's locks. Basically, it was acceptable to decorate your body with skulls and skeletons long before goths were looking gloomy in suburban malls. The skeleton, Death, was meant as a reminder that we all die and as a memorial to someone deceased. Some of the most striking and wearable mourning jewellery involves fine enamel work of the grim reaper himself. It is imagery that has remained relevant and I am a sucker for fine enamel work.
How is this occult? It's pretty mainstream when the queen is leading the way, but mourning traditions like the scary stationery and strict uniforms of black are, I think, examples of magical thinking. "I have to follow this procedure when X dies. Otherwise, I haven't honoured him correctly." Or, worse yet: "I have to follow this procedure. Otherwise, X won't rest well in the afterlife." That's pretty straightforward. And we can examine these tokens as lasting evidence of these personalities' existence, which is the best part of all. We all know about Queen Victoria, but mourning jewellery that anyone can buy, treasure, and wear didn't ever belong to her. It belonged to people of "no importance" and commemorates the dead who would otherwise be completely forgotten. Each creepy hair earring is a tiny shrine to a life once lived and the alarming dedication of his survivors.
And that's cool.
(For a great look at mourning jewellery both sold and for sale, visit www.thingsgoneby.com)
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
They're Creepy and They're Kooky, Mysterious and Spooky
I think we'll continue the macabre theme with a discussion on the occult and the paranormal. Since I am so late in posting this topic, I'm going to try to leave it wide open for any interpretation. This is partly inspired by our book club discussion with the author of Florida's Ghostly Legends And Haunted Folklore: North Florida And St. Augustine. (Who incidentally, my coworker, her daughter, and I are meeting up with to explore a graveyard in Ybor City. Am I psyched? Totally). But since we've covered ghosts (multiple times even), then I thought I would leave it open. Want to talk about your intense dislike for Sylvia Brown? Go for it - I'll probably have my own stuff to add. Or if you'd rather discuss crop circles, do it.
My personal interest lately has been in sin eaters, the spear of destiny, and exorcism. Ok - so it's more on the Catholic religious side, but it's still the occult in my opinion. Most of this has spawned from watching Constantine again. (Which we watched with my youth group - cuss words and all -- we had been talking about angels having free will). But the central plot scheme in the movie is centered around 2 things:
1. Suicides (according to Catholic belief) go straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
2. The power of the Spear of Destiny (the spear that pierced Christ's side and finished him off)
According to legend (in the movie, and somewhat in real life), whoever controls the spear of destiny, controls the power of the world. Hitler is rumored to have had it during WWII (and actually started the war in order to capture it), but whether that was the real deal, or one of several replicas is debatable. In the movie, Gabriel tries to use it to unleash Satan's son, Mammon, onto the world. There's a heck of a lot more to it than that, but read it for yourself.
The other is the notion of the sin eater. This was (maybe is) a person who agrees to take on the sins of the person who is deceased or dying. There would be a ritual where the family of the dead would pass bread and wine over the body, which the sin eater would consume, and thereby take on that person's sin. Here is an entry on it. The idea of it is absolutely hellish if you believe in a heaven and hell. What if they died before they could pass on all the sins to someone else? Usually the person was poor, and an outcast of society. The movie, The Order, though in general probably pretty terrible was what got me started on it.
Another movie that inspired me to do some research into the macabre was The Others. In it, Nicole Kidman finds a "book of the dead", which was a book full of photos of dead people. A search for that on google will only bring up site on ancient Egypt. However, Victorian post mortem photography should get you a number of hits, including these. Creepy, no? But I also find them rather touching, that they would care so much to go through all the trouble of doing the pictures, or that they were so desperate to remember their loved ones in a peaceful state.
Well, that's the topic. My apologies to our faithful readers for my complete laziness.
My personal interest lately has been in sin eaters, the spear of destiny, and exorcism. Ok - so it's more on the Catholic religious side, but it's still the occult in my opinion. Most of this has spawned from watching Constantine again. (Which we watched with my youth group - cuss words and all -- we had been talking about angels having free will). But the central plot scheme in the movie is centered around 2 things:
1. Suicides (according to Catholic belief) go straight to hell. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
2. The power of the Spear of Destiny (the spear that pierced Christ's side and finished him off)
According to legend (in the movie, and somewhat in real life), whoever controls the spear of destiny, controls the power of the world. Hitler is rumored to have had it during WWII (and actually started the war in order to capture it), but whether that was the real deal, or one of several replicas is debatable. In the movie, Gabriel tries to use it to unleash Satan's son, Mammon, onto the world. There's a heck of a lot more to it than that, but read it for yourself.
The other is the notion of the sin eater. This was (maybe is) a person who agrees to take on the sins of the person who is deceased or dying. There would be a ritual where the family of the dead would pass bread and wine over the body, which the sin eater would consume, and thereby take on that person's sin. Here is an entry on it. The idea of it is absolutely hellish if you believe in a heaven and hell. What if they died before they could pass on all the sins to someone else? Usually the person was poor, and an outcast of society. The movie, The Order, though in general probably pretty terrible was what got me started on it.
Another movie that inspired me to do some research into the macabre was The Others. In it, Nicole Kidman finds a "book of the dead", which was a book full of photos of dead people. A search for that on google will only bring up site on ancient Egypt. However, Victorian post mortem photography should get you a number of hits, including these. Creepy, no? But I also find them rather touching, that they would care so much to go through all the trouble of doing the pictures, or that they were so desperate to remember their loved ones in a peaceful state.
Well, that's the topic. My apologies to our faithful readers for my complete laziness.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Death time line
Yes, I would certainly want to know how and when I was going to die.
I was surprised to read in earlier comments that more than one person would use this knowledge to take revenge on people who had hurt them. I think putting a finite time frame on my life (especially if it was relatively short) would help me finally get over past pain because it would mean I probably wouldn't have to risk of running into that person again. I would, instead, use the knowledge to influence my investing (I know that's nerdy, but how would nice would it be to know exactly how much retirement money you'll need and how much longer you have to work?) and to travel and spend time with the people I love the most. I'd want to spend my days as happy and busy as possible to keep my mind off my looming death and to suck the marrow out of the rest of my short days.
I've mentioned before on this space that I currently work on the block that separates the White House from the main World Bank office, and I live on Capital Hill. I've talked with my geographically similar friends many times about where we would want to be if The Bomb went off. Obviously, the first choice is to be as far away as possible. But if you're going to be in the blast zone, would you rather be killed instantly or live in horrible pain from radiation poisoning? Most of my friends said they'd rather die instantly and avoid the pain. But I would want to live. I don't care how much pain I was in, I would want that last bit of time to call or see the people I love one more time, to say goodbye and I love you. Plus, I figure, if it was really so intolerable that I wanted to die, I could always kill myself, on my own terms and by my own decision. And who knows? Maybe I could be saved.
If you could only know one thing about your death--the how or the when--which would you pick? I think I'd rather know the when so I could plan out the rest of my life to drain every once of enjoyment from it. I think if I only knew how I was going to die, it would make me too paranoid. What if I found out I was going to die in a plane crash? Wouldn't I avoid planes--not just for my own life, but for everyone else's sake who would be flying with me? Or what if it was some seemingly small disease--wouldn't I turn into a total hypochondriac?
I once wrote out my fantasy obituary. I'd highly recommend that as an exercise to anyone!
I was surprised to read in earlier comments that more than one person would use this knowledge to take revenge on people who had hurt them. I think putting a finite time frame on my life (especially if it was relatively short) would help me finally get over past pain because it would mean I probably wouldn't have to risk of running into that person again. I would, instead, use the knowledge to influence my investing (I know that's nerdy, but how would nice would it be to know exactly how much retirement money you'll need and how much longer you have to work?) and to travel and spend time with the people I love the most. I'd want to spend my days as happy and busy as possible to keep my mind off my looming death and to suck the marrow out of the rest of my short days.
I've mentioned before on this space that I currently work on the block that separates the White House from the main World Bank office, and I live on Capital Hill. I've talked with my geographically similar friends many times about where we would want to be if The Bomb went off. Obviously, the first choice is to be as far away as possible. But if you're going to be in the blast zone, would you rather be killed instantly or live in horrible pain from radiation poisoning? Most of my friends said they'd rather die instantly and avoid the pain. But I would want to live. I don't care how much pain I was in, I would want that last bit of time to call or see the people I love one more time, to say goodbye and I love you. Plus, I figure, if it was really so intolerable that I wanted to die, I could always kill myself, on my own terms and by my own decision. And who knows? Maybe I could be saved.
If you could only know one thing about your death--the how or the when--which would you pick? I think I'd rather know the when so I could plan out the rest of my life to drain every once of enjoyment from it. I think if I only knew how I was going to die, it would make me too paranoid. What if I found out I was going to die in a plane crash? Wouldn't I avoid planes--not just for my own life, but for everyone else's sake who would be flying with me? Or what if it was some seemingly small disease--wouldn't I turn into a total hypochondriac?
I once wrote out my fantasy obituary. I'd highly recommend that as an exercise to anyone!
Friday, October 12, 2007
destiny, or prediction?
If I had the choice of learning (or not) when and how my death would occur, I'd want to be told, but I would doubt, and then I'd probably kill my stubborn ass the day before just to prove "them" wrong. In science, one can't assume that even watching something take place doesn't necessarily affect the outcome. which brings up a point that was illustrated in the film "stranger than fiction" - if one knows about death's approach, one has the ability to try to avoid it. That makes me wonder: is it really knowledge? Or would one just become some demented freak trying desparately to convince him/herself that mortal existence is worthwhile? If all attempts to avoid the impending death prove futile, then what has the individual accomplished any more than an animal that only understands the race to save its own skin? And if one is able to miraculously cheat death, what good is that? In order to really, truly care so much about the time and place of death, one would have to be pretty selfish in imagining themself to be above the mortality of everyone else, or else insanely altruistic and only want to spend one's time helping others.
That, of course brings me to the question: If our purpose on Earth is to help others, then what exactly are the "others" here for?
That, of course brings me to the question: If our purpose on Earth is to help others, then what exactly are the "others" here for?
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Six Feet Under
I am a little obsessed with death.
So, would I want to know when and how I would die? Hell yes I would! I think it would fuel my need to see the world a bit, and push my relationships with people. I might not take people for granted as much as I do. Frankly, I've been called an ice queen (the inspiration for last year's Halloween costume), so maybe my impending death would help remedy things. Of course, it could also fuel some new phobias or compulsions. Like what if you died from some disease you caught because you didn't wash your hands? I'd probably wash my hands 'til the skin came off.
So, would I want to know when and how I would die? Hell yes I would! I think it would fuel my need to see the world a bit, and push my relationships with people. I might not take people for granted as much as I do. Frankly, I've been called an ice queen (the inspiration for last year's Halloween costume), so maybe my impending death would help remedy things. Of course, it could also fuel some new phobias or compulsions. Like what if you died from some disease you caught because you didn't wash your hands? I'd probably wash my hands 'til the skin came off.
And speaking of diseases, this might be old news to most of you, but I think this stuff is too cool. I'm buying this one and this one, and giving them to my friend Chad for his birthday, just so I can say I gave him syphilis and gon0hrrea.
Sorry about this post being late. I was going to do it last night, but I was really sick (still am, hence me being home right now writing this), and it was all I could do just to make myself stay awake long enough to watch Pushing Daisies. Hmm...which is perfect for this topic. Has anyone else seen this show? It's cute - quirky and weird. It's about a guy who can bring dead people back to life with a touch and put them back under (permanently) with another. However, he has to put them under within a minute of bringing them back, or someone else nearby dies.
Hmm...this one tending towards stream of consciousness. I guess that's what you end up with when I'm not feeling up to par.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Death Is Coming.
It's October, the month of Halloween, and as such I decided to select a topic that lends itself handily to the macabre: death. Your death, to be exact. I have to admit that I found the inspiration for this topic on one of those lame MySpace surveys, but I have improved it somewhat. See, what I want to know is, if you could learn in advance the exact time, date and manner of your death - and know for a fact that it was accurate - would you want to know?
If you learned that you'd die in your sleep at the age of 103, would that cause you to change the way in which you lead your life? Would you take more risks? Or would you be more cautious? (After all, you wouldn't want a rash decision to make the intervening 60+ years hellish.)
If you learned that you would die fairly soon, would you try to change things? Even though you knew for a fact that Your Time was unalterable? Or would you simply try to make the best of the time you had left? And if so, how?
PS - No Physical Harm :-)
If you learned that you'd die in your sleep at the age of 103, would that cause you to change the way in which you lead your life? Would you take more risks? Or would you be more cautious? (After all, you wouldn't want a rash decision to make the intervening 60+ years hellish.)
If you learned that you would die fairly soon, would you try to change things? Even though you knew for a fact that Your Time was unalterable? Or would you simply try to make the best of the time you had left? And if so, how?
PS - No Physical Harm :-)
Sunday, October 07, 2007
putin who?
okay, so the subject is a little overstated. i have to admit though, that this topic is a little out of my league - i'm not very knowledgeable about russian anything, my main information source being jane's russia blog and a couple of linked articles. that said, i can sure express some opinions so here goes:
if the people let putin stay in power because of their lack of political motivation, that is their business. similarly if we, in the united states, don't utilize our power and vote, then to an extent it is our own fault that our government doesn't fully represent the wishes of the people. i am not in favor of a one or two-party system. i would love it if multiple parties were able to back candidates, giving us many choices of people for whom we could vote. yes, that would "split" the democrat and republican votes, but then each candidate would be able to earn votes based on their own merit and we wouldn't hear any stupid crap reasoning like: "at least he's not bush". i don't think we should vote for someone because they are the lesser of two evils. i think we should be able to vote for someone whose politics we actually support. i know it's not likely to ever happen, but i guess i'm a dreamer.
wow. that wasn't about russia. sorry.
so putin wants to remain in power and the people aren't doing anything about it. so? like stephanie said, there's no need for us to force other countries to adopt our political system. as long as russia isn't oppressing other countries, it's none of our business. look at china: their government supports some of the worst human rights programs in the world, but as long as they stay within their own country we do nothing about it besides an angry letter once in a while. and i think that's sad, but i also think that we have to be that way. it's bad enough that we're policing other countries in the world when they abuse each other, let alone if we were to invade just because we dislike what they're doing within their own borders. (i really didn't mean to tie this to iraq so i'm not even going to go there). basically, as long as russia is minding its own business, we should mind ours by not interfering. not that there's anything wrong with following the news. it's great to be knowledgeable. it's just not so great to force our opinions on other people. for example, when the chileans elected communist salvador allende to office, the u.s. self-righteously went in and "fixed" that, giving power to pinochet. i know that we dislike communism, but is pinochet really better? not for us, but for the people who voted not to have him as their leader. we should have stayed out.
yeah, i'm kind of a separatist - in a manner of speaking. i don't think that the u.s. should be responsible for taking care of everyone else. in a perfect world, the united nations (or some similar organization) would operate as moderater/mediator in the affairs of the nations of the world, and each nation would be free to run its own government.
wow again. i really have a hard time keeping to topic. feel free to comment on my tangents though.
if the people let putin stay in power because of their lack of political motivation, that is their business. similarly if we, in the united states, don't utilize our power and vote, then to an extent it is our own fault that our government doesn't fully represent the wishes of the people. i am not in favor of a one or two-party system. i would love it if multiple parties were able to back candidates, giving us many choices of people for whom we could vote. yes, that would "split" the democrat and republican votes, but then each candidate would be able to earn votes based on their own merit and we wouldn't hear any stupid crap reasoning like: "at least he's not bush". i don't think we should vote for someone because they are the lesser of two evils. i think we should be able to vote for someone whose politics we actually support. i know it's not likely to ever happen, but i guess i'm a dreamer.
wow. that wasn't about russia. sorry.
so putin wants to remain in power and the people aren't doing anything about it. so? like stephanie said, there's no need for us to force other countries to adopt our political system. as long as russia isn't oppressing other countries, it's none of our business. look at china: their government supports some of the worst human rights programs in the world, but as long as they stay within their own country we do nothing about it besides an angry letter once in a while. and i think that's sad, but i also think that we have to be that way. it's bad enough that we're policing other countries in the world when they abuse each other, let alone if we were to invade just because we dislike what they're doing within their own borders. (i really didn't mean to tie this to iraq so i'm not even going to go there). basically, as long as russia is minding its own business, we should mind ours by not interfering. not that there's anything wrong with following the news. it's great to be knowledgeable. it's just not so great to force our opinions on other people. for example, when the chileans elected communist salvador allende to office, the u.s. self-righteously went in and "fixed" that, giving power to pinochet. i know that we dislike communism, but is pinochet really better? not for us, but for the people who voted not to have him as their leader. we should have stayed out.
yeah, i'm kind of a separatist - in a manner of speaking. i don't think that the u.s. should be responsible for taking care of everyone else. in a perfect world, the united nations (or some similar organization) would operate as moderater/mediator in the affairs of the nations of the world, and each nation would be free to run its own government.
wow again. i really have a hard time keeping to topic. feel free to comment on my tangents though.
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