Monday, December 31, 2012
Happy New Year
Dream big & have huge ambition, but never forget life is lived in small moments and sustained by simple acts of love. - Cory Booker
Thursday, December 27, 2012
POCKETS FOR SNACKS!!!!
When a good friend got engaged over the holidays, this was my instant flash into chaos....
I will insist her dress have pockets....for snacks.
Good Riddance, 2012: The Year in Review
When I first started drafting this entry, I did a blow-by-blow of events that made 2012 absolutely the worst year of my life to date. I had a big ol' list. It was impressive. Color-coded by month (it's been a very slow week at work.)
And then after all that thinking and carefully selecting the "best blue" (winner: ocean)...I deleted it.
Because....fuck that. And fuck me. For being such a pitiful and self-absorbed asshole. Listing your problems? Jesus, Jamestown. Get over yourself.
Yes. I had an abysmal year. Being alive was not appealing. I fell far. Lost A LOT. When I wasn't crying, I was lashing out. I lost faith and found anger. I let a lot of stuff (and people) go. I was flipping through my 2012 calendar and realized I stopped marking anything after April. I guess that's the touchstone of when I threw in the towel. Feels right.
But I'm still here.
And so are the people I love, at least in some form. So. It's OK. We didn't lose our home to a hurricane, or our children at the hands of a murderer. In these two instances alone, I am fortunate.
After everything, not just this year, but in the past five since my father became ill, I feel considerably hardened. And I think, though some may (understandably) find me less pleasant, I am stronger and better protected. Some might think I am selling myself short by setting the bar so low on expectations for myself and others, but honestly (these are opinions and you are welcome to disagree) humanity hasn't really given me much to cheer for, and I know I am doing my best by the fact that I just keep going. I work hard and I do right by those I care about, and if I need to tell people to fuck off, or get a grip, or leave me alone, then I do. My emotional armor was a long time coming, and I need it now more than ever. There are still some chinks in it, it's not indestructible, but it exists.
In parting, a simple upnote:
Good things that happened to other people which I enjoyed: weddings, engagements, babies.
Good things that happened to me: new job.
See?
Friday, December 21, 2012
A Whole New World...
Those of you hoping for an Aladdin post...sorry. Maybe some other time. Here is hipster Aladdin to satiate your need until then.
In the hopes (and science?) that the world is still fine and dandy (and by "fine and dandy" I really mean "kind of bleak but still standing") by close of business today, I will wish you and yours a very happy winter solstice and 12/21/12 which has been enormous fun to type merely for its simplicity and repetition on the keyboard.
Did I ever tell you that I saw the movie 2012? It was even more terrible than I had previously anticipated. Laughably, cringe-worthy terrible. I didn't mind watching the film at the time because I was in the company of an incredibly handsome man, but still. That movie fucking sucked. I really can't stomach those moments where millions of people die in some kind of enormous CGI tragedy.
Truly.
I never actually thought the world was going to end. It was an interesting thought experiment in (reasonable) finality though. Like, if the world is over on Friday, do I have to do my laundry? (Yup) Can I eat nothing but cookies? (Negative) I should probably binge (in true Dionysian style) my way through oblivion.
Right?
There is something to be said for the pressure of DO IT NOW.
Years ago, when my mother needed a new handbag, she'd found one she'd liked very much, that came in both black and a raspberry color. She went back and forth between them, and began to rationalize that black was much more practical, etc etc. I recognized the signs. I turned to her, and said loudly
"What color do you want? Don't think! Just tell me!"
Needless to say, mom loves her raspberry purse. She tells her friends I am a fashion-y genius. Really I am more like a shouty bag lady. I know bags, what can I say. But by putting her on the spot and kind of forcing her to not think, she ended up saying exactly what she wanted. Which turned out great.
So what would you do if you had the end date for the end of the world? I know a lot of things would depend (obviously) on how the governments of the world are freaking out too (air travel and such) but what are your priorities? How much time do you spend with family versus friends? Do you hunker down? Or do you go party every last moment away? Do you know where you want to be?
"...tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further... And one fine morning -
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Food for thought. Speaking of food, here's this. I don't get it, but I fucking love it.
In the hopes (and science?) that the world is still fine and dandy (and by "fine and dandy" I really mean "kind of bleak but still standing") by close of business today, I will wish you and yours a very happy winter solstice and 12/21/12 which has been enormous fun to type merely for its simplicity and repetition on the keyboard.
Truly.
I never actually thought the world was going to end. It was an interesting thought experiment in (reasonable) finality though. Like, if the world is over on Friday, do I have to do my laundry? (Yup) Can I eat nothing but cookies? (Negative) I should probably binge (in true Dionysian style) my way through oblivion.
Right?
There is something to be said for the pressure of DO IT NOW.
Years ago, when my mother needed a new handbag, she'd found one she'd liked very much, that came in both black and a raspberry color. She went back and forth between them, and began to rationalize that black was much more practical, etc etc. I recognized the signs. I turned to her, and said loudly
"What color do you want? Don't think! Just tell me!"
Needless to say, mom loves her raspberry purse. She tells her friends I am a fashion-y genius. Really I am more like a shouty bag lady. I know bags, what can I say. But by putting her on the spot and kind of forcing her to not think, she ended up saying exactly what she wanted. Which turned out great.
So what would you do if you had the end date for the end of the world? I know a lot of things would depend (obviously) on how the governments of the world are freaking out too (air travel and such) but what are your priorities? How much time do you spend with family versus friends? Do you hunker down? Or do you go party every last moment away? Do you know where you want to be?
"...tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms further... And one fine morning -
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Food for thought. Speaking of food, here's this. I don't get it, but I fucking love it.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Varsity Bitchface
Today has been the type of day at work where everyone is acting crazy and I cannot help but make this face.
What is going on?!?!?
Monday, December 17, 2012
Where Do We Go From Here?
After the last few days all I can manage to do is exhale. Breathing is suddenly something I have to think about. Loud, exasperated sighs serve only as a reminder that I'm....waiting? Not sure.
This is not how I had hoped to be in the days before Christmas. It really isn't. I had hoped to be sharing really joyous traditions, laughs and memories - not overwhelmed by a nation's grief, radiating sadness from the losses of others, and kind of wondering in the furthest back corner of my mind if Friday really is going to be the day life throws in the towel.
The shootings in Connecticut, the abrupt passing of a lovely and awesome girl I had the pleasure to meet (the friend of a friend), and some personal issues weighed heavily on my heart and mind. So much sadness at what should be such a happy time - what do you say to comfort those who need it? What can you do to help? I have always struggled with the public expression of grief. I come from a family of very private, internalizing people. I joke that we should make a family crest with "don't cry out loud" emblazoned where a more traditionally uplifting or bold motto would go. Don't mistake me....we're not dead inside. I have simply been raised to treat grief as a private affair - and I am glad for it. It's something to do with control, I suspect. The ability to keep it together is a great strength.
In the past few years, when tragedy strikes, or people pass, the first place I hear about it is (not kidding) Facebook. It is a place to react, theorize, explode and emote, for some. Right after the shootings, calls for banning guns and articles about mental illness flooded the newsfeed. (You're preaching the choir FB. I don't own a gun but I know how to fire one. And I'm well read on mental health laws in several states.) I guess what I'm taking a really roundabout way to say is that I personally prefer to process information privately before (if at all) taking to social media to speak my mind - whether it is to express outrage, grief, or demands for change. I just....need some time. I think there is something to be said of processing something for yourself before putting it out in a public forum. Maybe I'm overly cautious as to how I present myself. There was a great line in the Spike Lee movie, Inside Man, where Clive Owen (whose name I just blanked on) says "Pay strict attention to what I say because I choose my words carefully and I never repeat myself." There is something sage about that advice. I think a lot of misunderstanding and conflict could be avoided if we chose our words more carefully and delivered them publicly when we are sure we mean them. It doesn't mean we'll never make mistakes, or say something inappropriate in a public place. But it might help.
I think, in the coming months and years it will take to move forward and make real change, sincere, heartfelt talking will be critical. But I think if we think and ponder our words before we act and react...if we choose our words carefully and not just emote for the sake of emoting....we might be moving in the right direction.
This is not how I had hoped to be in the days before Christmas. It really isn't. I had hoped to be sharing really joyous traditions, laughs and memories - not overwhelmed by a nation's grief, radiating sadness from the losses of others, and kind of wondering in the furthest back corner of my mind if Friday really is going to be the day life throws in the towel.
The shootings in Connecticut, the abrupt passing of a lovely and awesome girl I had the pleasure to meet (the friend of a friend), and some personal issues weighed heavily on my heart and mind. So much sadness at what should be such a happy time - what do you say to comfort those who need it? What can you do to help? I have always struggled with the public expression of grief. I come from a family of very private, internalizing people. I joke that we should make a family crest with "don't cry out loud" emblazoned where a more traditionally uplifting or bold motto would go. Don't mistake me....we're not dead inside. I have simply been raised to treat grief as a private affair - and I am glad for it. It's something to do with control, I suspect. The ability to keep it together is a great strength.
In the past few years, when tragedy strikes, or people pass, the first place I hear about it is (not kidding) Facebook. It is a place to react, theorize, explode and emote, for some. Right after the shootings, calls for banning guns and articles about mental illness flooded the newsfeed. (You're preaching the choir FB. I don't own a gun but I know how to fire one. And I'm well read on mental health laws in several states.) I guess what I'm taking a really roundabout way to say is that I personally prefer to process information privately before (if at all) taking to social media to speak my mind - whether it is to express outrage, grief, or demands for change. I just....need some time. I think there is something to be said of processing something for yourself before putting it out in a public forum. Maybe I'm overly cautious as to how I present myself. There was a great line in the Spike Lee movie, Inside Man, where Clive Owen (whose name I just blanked on) says "Pay strict attention to what I say because I choose my words carefully and I never repeat myself." There is something sage about that advice. I think a lot of misunderstanding and conflict could be avoided if we chose our words more carefully and delivered them publicly when we are sure we mean them. It doesn't mean we'll never make mistakes, or say something inappropriate in a public place. But it might help.
I think, in the coming months and years it will take to move forward and make real change, sincere, heartfelt talking will be critical. But I think if we think and ponder our words before we act and react...if we choose our words carefully and not just emote for the sake of emoting....we might be moving in the right direction.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Another Kind of Heartbroken...
My plan, at first, for today was to talk about the early Christmas that I did last week with my family. I'd talk about how I'm still figuring out how to handle daily interaction with dad, much less the enormous stress of the holidays. I'd tell you the tape loop of his mind seems virtually nonexistent, and if I'm really being honest with myself, I don't know how much of me (the person) he knows, or where we go from here...(down, J. We go down until it's over.)
But then the shooting in Connecticut happened and my problems needed to step aside for a while. Today, I think people are a different kind of heartbroken - the kind where it didn't happen to you, but your heart hurts terribly anyway. And hurts is an understatement. Devastated. Confused, scared and angry. And we're just bystanders.
Although the death of a loved one is a nightmare, I always thought it would be particularly terrible to lose someone you love around Christmas time. I suppose that is my rather childish way of thinking. I cannot even begin to fathom the depth of those parents despair....to lose their beloved children right around the time that brings a family so much joy. Presents, bought but perhaps not yet wrapped, stand as towering reminders of what you have lost. God. I can't.
I'm sure more will come to light about the shooter, and we'll try to understand. I hope that we'll talk about gun control, and warning signs, and leave religion out of it. It is time to have the tough conversations. It was time a long while ago. But for today, we will simply be one broken heart, together.
But then the shooting in Connecticut happened and my problems needed to step aside for a while. Today, I think people are a different kind of heartbroken - the kind where it didn't happen to you, but your heart hurts terribly anyway. And hurts is an understatement. Devastated. Confused, scared and angry. And we're just bystanders.
Although the death of a loved one is a nightmare, I always thought it would be particularly terrible to lose someone you love around Christmas time. I suppose that is my rather childish way of thinking. I cannot even begin to fathom the depth of those parents despair....to lose their beloved children right around the time that brings a family so much joy. Presents, bought but perhaps not yet wrapped, stand as towering reminders of what you have lost. God. I can't.
I'm sure more will come to light about the shooter, and we'll try to understand. I hope that we'll talk about gun control, and warning signs, and leave religion out of it. It is time to have the tough conversations. It was time a long while ago. But for today, we will simply be one broken heart, together.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Going to Lose My Nerd Card for This, BUT....
I CAN'T GO SEE THE HOBBIT, GUYS.
I've done my time in Middle Earth. It's over. Let's just go home now. I don't care anymore about rings or elves, dwarves, hobbits, Smeagol, Gandalf, or yo motha. It's like "fetch"....no matter how hard you try, this just isn't going to happen for me.
Even though I am weirdly obsessed with the Denny's/Hobbit tie-in promotion, I simply don't understand why we're back again for this story. But I always understand pancakes, bacon, potatoes, and things that look like cheese is baked inside. This menu looks like every suburban stoner-nerd's dream. "Onion rings piled high as Mount Doom!"
I don't even like eggs (they make me sick) and this looks mad good!
Seriously, though. Having just had this discussion with the IT guy (so you know it's the real nerd deal) I simply came to the conclusion that three extended LOTR edition films later (which I happily own and account for roughly thirty viewing hours of my life) have gone to the films, and while they were good college fun, I simply cannot anymore. I'm tapped. Especially when they've gone and stretched The Hobbit, one average-length book, into three MORE films just to suck all the cash monies possible out of your wallet - at $19 or so here in NYC per fancy IMAX film. As much as I adore Martin Freeman and am THRILLED he's got this huge vehicle, I can't get excited for this.
Also I need to talk about the dwarves. Why are some dwarfish and some sexy?
That just doesn't seem right.
I'll leave you with these Hobbit-themed pickup lines I found on flavorwire.com....
- I must be the ring and you must be Bilbo, because you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.
- I’ll take you there and back again.
- Just wait until sunset — that’s when I’m going to open your secret door.
- Were you born from Smaug’s mouth? Because you came out hot.
- Girl, you’re glowing. Are there orcs nearby or are you just glad to see me?
Bwaaaaah. So stupid, but I'm chuckling nonetheless.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Whoops! My Bad. Have Some Gifs.
(Right. I'm away next week. Not sure if I will post. Unless something crazy happens or I've got some feelings. Who knows. Stay tuned.)
ALSO I was probably distracted yesterday because of an AMAZING run-in with my work crush. We bumped into each other on a street corner about a block from our office, and he recognized me despite the fact that I was well hidden under my big old coat, aviator sunglasses and earmuffs. He smiled and said hi and we proceeded to have yet another nice chat on our way in. I was so happy and excited (and maybe a little bit starry-eyed in like) that I was doing the Jeremy Renner dance of sexy times all day at work.
So because it's Friday, (I'm in...like!) here are some more thoughts/gifs I've been collecting.
Don't say I'm copping out. You got an extra post out of me yesterday, raging against society and (sometimes) homeless people.
I cannot wait to get out of here. Even if just for a few days. I'm not really feeling NYC much anymore, and can't wait for some space, and air. I'm going to go for so many drives. And long walks ( I mean, I do that plenty here, but a change of scenery will be nice.) I'm probably going to turn off my phone too! It's going to be SO GOOD.
So if you need me for the next week....not going to happen. Sorry.
But I'm still not picking up. I'm living and breathing some freedom...Merry Christmas to me.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
These Boots Were Made For Controversy
It's the image we've all seen now.
An NYPD officer, photographed (conveniently? maybe.) buying and giving a pair of boots to a barefoot and seemingly homeless man. A heartwarming, PR-solid story to keep that holiday high.
Apparently, though, things are not as simple as they seemed. In short, the gentlemen pictured is not homeless, he has an apartment in the Bronx paid through the Department of Veterans Affairs. He has been offered assistance by both his relatives and city outreach programs and has turned them down. The New York Times found the man barefoot once again, saying he hid the boots because "They are worth a lot of money.”
And though he appreciates the gesture, he absolutely "wants a piece of the pie" (his terms not mine) from whatever monetary windfall the photo creates. Does a photo posted on the big free internet really get him any money? I don't think the photographer got any, nor the policeman. If they DID, for whatever reason, I hope they donated the money to a charity assisting homeless veterans.
I'm of two minds on the matter. We'll call the positive outlook Rudolph and the negative Frosty.
Rudolph: Whatever the situation of the homeless man, the gifting of the boots doesn't make the officer's gesture any less generous. The policeman acted as a great example to his peers, his community and the nation as a whole. The world is undoubtedly a better place where actions come from the heart, and we are more willing to do nice things for strangers, rather than being an aloof asshole just because you think everybody is out to scam you. What else can be done to improve the lives and conditions of those living on the street? Understanding. Not everyone is a drunk, druggie grifter. Lots are, but not everyone. A huge amount of homeless people are mentally ill. It is important to cultivate greater quality services for the homeless and the mentally ill so they can find their way to a stronger, sufficient life. My guess is the boots guy isn't all there mentally. So what does it take to legally get him into a clean safe place and the medical attention he needs?
Frosty: The pic is a backfired PR stunt to try and boost the tarnished image of the NYPD. (Cannibal, racist and rapist cops dominated headlines this year.) People would be better to homeless people if so many of them weren't aggressive scam artists. Personal experience in NYC hasn't given me much to be hopeful about. T offered a begging man on the street her unopened can of Arizona iced tea because he was begging for "food, drink, anything you can spare." He rudely replied "You don't have Snapple?" (And he was serious. T was in shock.) I have seen food refused more times than I can remember. THEY DON'T WANT FOOD. They want booze and drug money. Pregnant, tattooed faced lady on the 1 train begs for money because "she has nothing." But in between times I saw her (2 weeks) she found the money for a new tattoo and hair dye. Don't get me started on the people who use babies or pets as props. We've been given to reason to trust that our money will do anything to help anyone, which is why money should ONLY be donated to shelters and organizations with good track records.
We reap what we sow - on both sides.It's a lot to think about, and I for one don't have the answers.
An NYPD officer, photographed (conveniently? maybe.) buying and giving a pair of boots to a barefoot and seemingly homeless man. A heartwarming, PR-solid story to keep that holiday high.
Apparently, though, things are not as simple as they seemed. In short, the gentlemen pictured is not homeless, he has an apartment in the Bronx paid through the Department of Veterans Affairs. He has been offered assistance by both his relatives and city outreach programs and has turned them down. The New York Times found the man barefoot once again, saying he hid the boots because "They are worth a lot of money.”
And though he appreciates the gesture, he absolutely "wants a piece of the pie" (his terms not mine) from whatever monetary windfall the photo creates. Does a photo posted on the big free internet really get him any money? I don't think the photographer got any, nor the policeman. If they DID, for whatever reason, I hope they donated the money to a charity assisting homeless veterans.
I'm of two minds on the matter. We'll call the positive outlook Rudolph and the negative Frosty.
Rudolph: Whatever the situation of the homeless man, the gifting of the boots doesn't make the officer's gesture any less generous. The policeman acted as a great example to his peers, his community and the nation as a whole. The world is undoubtedly a better place where actions come from the heart, and we are more willing to do nice things for strangers, rather than being an aloof asshole just because you think everybody is out to scam you. What else can be done to improve the lives and conditions of those living on the street? Understanding. Not everyone is a drunk, druggie grifter. Lots are, but not everyone. A huge amount of homeless people are mentally ill. It is important to cultivate greater quality services for the homeless and the mentally ill so they can find their way to a stronger, sufficient life. My guess is the boots guy isn't all there mentally. So what does it take to legally get him into a clean safe place and the medical attention he needs?
Frosty: The pic is a backfired PR stunt to try and boost the tarnished image of the NYPD. (Cannibal, racist and rapist cops dominated headlines this year.) People would be better to homeless people if so many of them weren't aggressive scam artists. Personal experience in NYC hasn't given me much to be hopeful about. T offered a begging man on the street her unopened can of Arizona iced tea because he was begging for "food, drink, anything you can spare." He rudely replied "You don't have Snapple?" (And he was serious. T was in shock.) I have seen food refused more times than I can remember. THEY DON'T WANT FOOD. They want booze and drug money. Pregnant, tattooed faced lady on the 1 train begs for money because "she has nothing." But in between times I saw her (2 weeks) she found the money for a new tattoo and hair dye. Don't get me started on the people who use babies or pets as props. We've been given to reason to trust that our money will do anything to help anyone, which is why money should ONLY be donated to shelters and organizations with good track records.
We reap what we sow - on both sides.It's a lot to think about, and I for one don't have the answers.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
HUMANITY! (facepalm)
A while back, probably in the second or third in this stretch of horrible years ("Not doing so great since 2008") I made myself a simple necklace, a dark silver chain with a life preserver charm on the end of it. To me, the charm was a sign of "you're going to get by" and that at the end of the day, help only could be found withing yourself, and not from others. It was a totem of self-reliance.
With the onslaught of the holidays and the explosion of "good will" that it brings, I'm wondering a lot what it means to help and be helpful. Between news stories and my own personal experiences of reaching or being reached out to, I've been left with lots of questions AND answers. Let me explain.
Up until yesterday, I had decided that it would be impossible for me to get home for Christmas this year. M had offered me a spot at her family's Christmas dinner (an offer so generous it maybe rained on my face a little) and I realized that I couldn't bear the idea of my mother being by herself (after a brief visit with my dad in the home) on Christmas. So I asked for a bit of help (financially) to be able to join her for a few days and of course she was overjoyed that I'd make it home, even if it will be a short trip, and I'll be traveling back Christmas night. It was through the help and generosity of those around me that I could figure out exactly what I needed (emotionally) and how to do it (realistically).
With "help" on my mind, I was sickened with this image on the NY Post front page Tuesday.
I think we can all agree that this is some seriously fucked up shit.
I was watching the news yesterday as I got ready for work, and the photographer claims that he was running towards the man and snapping the pictures using flash in order to warn the train driver (and the driver says he did see the flash) but I frankly don't buy it and I'm still horrified that these photos even exist, and that any newspaper, even one as gross as the post, would publish them. With grotesque details like "DOOMED" and "about to die" this is pure shock value, and I hope that if the photographer made a dime off them, he should give it to the family of the deceased. Doubtful, but you never know. But I'm pretty sure we are all wondering the same thing...
WHY WOULDN'T YOU PUT YOUR CAMERA DOWN AND RUN TO HELP HIM?!?!
WHERE THE HELL WAS EVERYBODY?!?!
This murder (the man was pushed, terrifying) took place at a subway station near Times Square. Having been to that station often, I can tell you it is rarely empty.
I have no answers. I understand shock and fear, but I also understand the adrenaline kick that comes with those situations, and even if (sadly) one were to be unsuccessful, how could you stand by and not try to save a man's life is beyond me. Where was his life preserver? Where were the people who could have helped?
Ugh. Humanity. I'm starting to wonder if maybe the Mayans were right, and our time here should be about up.
Monday, December 3, 2012
I Have the Right to Remain Silent
Everything I say can be used against me at some point or another.
I have the right to an attorney. She is also my dearest friend. She lives in Florida.(Hi, B!)
Do I understand my rights as I have re-edited them for myself?
Yes.
Finally.
My days, on the whole, go something like this:
7:20am - Wake Up. Morning rituals.
9:00am (latest) - Out of the apartment. Walk to work.
10:00-6:30am - Work! Walk home.
7:30pm - Home.
7:45pm - Grab some dinner. Decompress. Get some writing done. Call Mom.
(Occasionally this is preempted by drinks with friends, spur-of-the-moment adventures of a cultural nature, or trip to the movies)
11:30pm-Midnight - Bed
Not a super outrageous or fulfilling life, but for now, it is what I have. It is BUSY. I am always connected, moving, thinking, doing something on behalf of someone. It is my job to connect with people, with limited breaks, from 10am to 6:30pm. To do this can be a lot of fun (you meet some cool people) and really awful (and a bunch of assholes) but a huge part of my job is to be personal and helpful and kind and open and firing on all cylinders in order to make sure things go off without a hitch. I type, and talk, and write and arrange and organize. It is musical chairs in a multi-million dollar playground. I solve problems and call in the big guns when I can't.
To be so constantly connected means that it is just as important for me to disconnect when I can. On breaks, I go outside and look at buildings, and people walking by. I'm sure I look insane, but after staring into a monitor so long I like to see stuff that's real. Around 9pm every night, I switch my phone to airplane mode. Some weekends I leave my phone off the entire time, and don't check my email. It's wonderful. And I have to do it. The quiet time alone in my own mind is how I recalibrate. Often times I think it's one of the few things that keeps me from going off the rails entirely. My dear friend and I took a really gorgeous, relaxing walk around the ground of Columbia University last night and talked about trying to find things that helped us recharge our batteries. There needed to be activities that we could share with those we loved, and other things that we managed to keep entirely for ourselves. For me? I like to go on hikes. I like to move. I like the chatter of getting a drink and the quiet of the movies. It's important to me to have both, to be balanced in my interests.
The upside? I work really hard and I know it's being noticed and appreciated. That's cool.
The downside? Less time to keep up with those who live outside of this very insular orbit. Even close friends here in the city I sometimes see only every few months! My old roomie and I have been trying to set up a dinner date since before the hurricane! But we get and appreciate that we're busy and we'll get there. It's not always easy being my friend. If it's not the wild goose chase of finding the time that works for both our schedules, it's the fact that I might be a little manic OR quiet and exhausted when I see you. If we've come this far though, you know that I care about you and value our friendship. I just need my time, as I'm sure you need yours. The need for the silence, for the quiet peace of disconnect is my own thing, and not a reflection on the great people I call friends.
I have the right to an attorney. She is also my dearest friend. She lives in Florida.(Hi, B!)
Do I understand my rights as I have re-edited them for myself?
Yes.
Finally.
My days, on the whole, go something like this:
7:20am - Wake Up. Morning rituals.
9:00am (latest) - Out of the apartment. Walk to work.
10:00-6:30am - Work! Walk home.
7:30pm - Home.
7:45pm - Grab some dinner. Decompress. Get some writing done. Call Mom.
(Occasionally this is preempted by drinks with friends, spur-of-the-moment adventures of a cultural nature, or trip to the movies)
11:30pm-Midnight - Bed
Not a super outrageous or fulfilling life, but for now, it is what I have. It is BUSY. I am always connected, moving, thinking, doing something on behalf of someone. It is my job to connect with people, with limited breaks, from 10am to 6:30pm. To do this can be a lot of fun (you meet some cool people) and really awful (and a bunch of assholes) but a huge part of my job is to be personal and helpful and kind and open and firing on all cylinders in order to make sure things go off without a hitch. I type, and talk, and write and arrange and organize. It is musical chairs in a multi-million dollar playground. I solve problems and call in the big guns when I can't.
To be so constantly connected means that it is just as important for me to disconnect when I can. On breaks, I go outside and look at buildings, and people walking by. I'm sure I look insane, but after staring into a monitor so long I like to see stuff that's real. Around 9pm every night, I switch my phone to airplane mode. Some weekends I leave my phone off the entire time, and don't check my email. It's wonderful. And I have to do it. The quiet time alone in my own mind is how I recalibrate. Often times I think it's one of the few things that keeps me from going off the rails entirely. My dear friend and I took a really gorgeous, relaxing walk around the ground of Columbia University last night and talked about trying to find things that helped us recharge our batteries. There needed to be activities that we could share with those we loved, and other things that we managed to keep entirely for ourselves. For me? I like to go on hikes. I like to move. I like the chatter of getting a drink and the quiet of the movies. It's important to me to have both, to be balanced in my interests.
The upside? I work really hard and I know it's being noticed and appreciated. That's cool.
The downside? Less time to keep up with those who live outside of this very insular orbit. Even close friends here in the city I sometimes see only every few months! My old roomie and I have been trying to set up a dinner date since before the hurricane! But we get and appreciate that we're busy and we'll get there. It's not always easy being my friend. If it's not the wild goose chase of finding the time that works for both our schedules, it's the fact that I might be a little manic OR quiet and exhausted when I see you. If we've come this far though, you know that I care about you and value our friendship. I just need my time, as I'm sure you need yours. The need for the silence, for the quiet peace of disconnect is my own thing, and not a reflection on the great people I call friends.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
There Are No Answers....Only Zuul!
And if you get that reference, high-five for being as Ghostbusters-friendly as I am!
As promised, I'm here to talk about the overwhelming excitement I feel about the prospect of very soon finding and decorating our Christmas Tree! To me, the tree is the most wonderful part of the season, which inspires more joy and outbursts of "the emotionals" than pretty much anything else.
The tree is a labor of love. From finding the perfect one (maybe not the prettiest or most expensive, but one that smells great and will fit in your home) and struggling to string it with lights, and whatever goofy-ass ornaments you've collected over the years, the end result is always such a wonderful reflection of who you are at this moment of your life. Does that make any sense? For example, last year C and I bought our tree from some cute, stoner Canadians on the corner of 86th street. We lugged it home, shedding needles rapidly along the way, and dragged it up the four flights of stairs to our home. We found a spot by the window and proceeded to decorate. And by decorate our contributions were thus:
Me: Old Halloween lights. Crap leftover from store window displays. Random stuff from my room (ie small toys) collected treasures from various bars.
C: Proper Christmas lights. Real ornaments. Family treasures
We are such a good team.
I remember growing up, my mother always collected the most beautiful, classy ornaments. Like, crystal orbs, and historical wooden treasures. If left to her own devices, we'd probably have the most gorgeous tree in the world. But no. I (still, to this very day) cannot have a tree without the absurdly crappy ornaments of my youth....the ones I made from clay and glitter stuff....and the ones that came in my McDonald's Happy Meals.
YOU KNOW.
If you're my age, you know EXACTLY what Imma talkin' bout!! 80s ornament glory!!!
It's so stupid, but I freaking LOVE them.
It's the little things.
Once the tree was lit and decorated (with things both classy and not) it became this literal glowing haven of happiness. I never wanted to leave the tree. It smelled good, it was shiny, and it had all my favorite things both on and under it! I wanted to sleep next to the tree. Or under it. I wanted to doze by it's soft lights. I know. I sound batshit crazy, but Christmas trees are my most favorite and a source of enormous comfort and joy. (And other such tidings...)
*******************************************************************************
Now that I've wrapped you up in warm fuzzies, I'm going to throw acid on you and set you on fire, because I simply must address the fact (and I promised to) how much I am utterly disgusted by the ongoing geyser of idiot fuckery that is Chris Brown and Rihanna. I know, they are only 23 and 24 years old respectively, but they're old enough to not behave like pathetic, attention-starved brats....who happen to be multi-millionaires. But they do.
Here's the thing. I think in all fairness they must be evaluated separately.
Rihanna makes dance music. Some of it is fun. NONE OF IT IS ORIGINAL. It's all bought and paid for -glossy, empty, soulless. She paints herself as hard, unique, and utterly original, when in fact she is none of these things. She's an exotic, sexy woman, no doubt. But she is an average singer at best, an insecure exhibitionist, and an absolute thug (threatening her ex's Asian girlfriend by putting hoop earrings and sunglasses on a package of rice cakes was the perfect blend of her own ignorance and offensive nature.) A GQ reporter recently witnessed Rihanna tell producer and collaborator The-Dream that she wanted him to write songs tailor-made for easy Internet consumption: "It's gotta be tweet, retweet, trending topic!" None of it contains any of the "real"ness that she beats media over the head with. It's glossier than her perfect lips. When you think about it, without the slick beats, the outrageous sexy costumes, or the auto-tune, Rihanna wouldn't be the sensation she is today. OF COURSE, most of the pop stars (Britney, Ke$ha, and the like) wouldn't be stars either.
Why bother? She's an entertainer, does whatever the hell she wants (even if it makes zero sense) and can support herself financially doing something she enjoys. Credit where credit is due. But respect? Nope.
Chris Brown. The facts are these. He infamously and brutally beat his girlfriend Rihanna in 2009. The photographs were not doctored. Since then, instead of actually trying to live like the "good person" he has claimed he is, he's thrown temper tantrums at talk shows, thrown chairs, trashed rooms, started fights in bars, and dressed like a terrorist for giggles. STERLING. A few days ago, he snapped (yet again) at a female comedian who was ragging on him, and managed to bring a newly disgusting and pathetic (CHRIS BROWN IS PATHETIC INCARNATE) angle to the already weird and gross universe of Twitter. CB's explosive temper, both physical and verbal, is going to get someone killed someday. Calling it now.
And before anyone insinuates this is even remotely about race let me make it clear that I hate all men who beat women. Charlie Sheen. Edward Furlong. Sean Connery. Bill Murray. Tito Ortiz. I don't care who you are, or if you were in that movie I loved. A violent hand and you're done. I don't care that Chris Brown is a black man. I care that he is an awful human being.
Did the female comedian "start it"? She spoke first, and it wasn't exactly a courteous exchange. But instead of engage with opposing views and learn from them; Brown lashes out and calls his critics "haters," because anyone who disagrees with him is obviously just jealous. If Chris Brown is going to start fights with everyone on the internet who is disgusted by him, he should probably invest in a real comfy chair and an ergonomic keyboard, because it's going to be a while.
The saddest part about this, to me? The legions of Brown supporters, dubbed Team Breezy, who are largely just....kids. Kids, largely young black women, who leap to his defense no matter the transgression, and have gone so far as to launch repugnant verbal assaults - up to and including death threats - at anyone who dare say a negative word about their clown prince of slime. Why, guys? Some girls have even said (via Twitter) "I'd let Chris Brown beat me" in all sincerity. It makes me want to buy them all a coke (solves problems) and remind them that they're worth something too, and don't have to idolize this thug just because he is rich and produces dance music. What is his redeeming value? I'd ask them. What do you see in him, personally, as a man, that you want to emulate or be around? And if they say only the material things - his swag, his style - then you have your answer. They don't like you Breezy. They're not actually on your team. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't give half a golden fuck if you were burning to death in the streets. They just wish that they too - stupid kids with big dreams and a glaring lack of attention from peers and family - could have it all without having any talent or class to speak of.
As promised, I'm here to talk about the overwhelming excitement I feel about the prospect of very soon finding and decorating our Christmas Tree! To me, the tree is the most wonderful part of the season, which inspires more joy and outbursts of "the emotionals" than pretty much anything else.
Me: Old Halloween lights. Crap leftover from store window displays. Random stuff from my room (ie small toys) collected treasures from various bars.
C: Proper Christmas lights. Real ornaments. Family treasures
We are such a good team.
I remember growing up, my mother always collected the most beautiful, classy ornaments. Like, crystal orbs, and historical wooden treasures. If left to her own devices, we'd probably have the most gorgeous tree in the world. But no. I (still, to this very day) cannot have a tree without the absurdly crappy ornaments of my youth....the ones I made from clay and glitter stuff....and the ones that came in my McDonald's Happy Meals.
YOU KNOW.
If you're my age, you know EXACTLY what Imma talkin' bout!! 80s ornament glory!!!
Miss Bianca still graces the tree every year, as does Bernard
As does Oliver (and Dodger) from Oliver & Company. It used to play music!
It's so stupid, but I freaking LOVE them.
It's the little things.
Once the tree was lit and decorated (with things both classy and not) it became this literal glowing haven of happiness. I never wanted to leave the tree. It smelled good, it was shiny, and it had all my favorite things both on and under it! I wanted to sleep next to the tree. Or under it. I wanted to doze by it's soft lights. I know. I sound batshit crazy, but Christmas trees are my most favorite and a source of enormous comfort and joy. (And other such tidings...)
*******************************************************************************
Now that I've wrapped you up in warm fuzzies, I'm going to throw acid on you and set you on fire, because I simply must address the fact (and I promised to) how much I am utterly disgusted by the ongoing geyser of idiot fuckery that is Chris Brown and Rihanna. I know, they are only 23 and 24 years old respectively, but they're old enough to not behave like pathetic, attention-starved brats....who happen to be multi-millionaires. But they do.
Here's the thing. I think in all fairness they must be evaluated separately.
Rihanna makes dance music. Some of it is fun. NONE OF IT IS ORIGINAL. It's all bought and paid for -glossy, empty, soulless. She paints herself as hard, unique, and utterly original, when in fact she is none of these things. She's an exotic, sexy woman, no doubt. But she is an average singer at best, an insecure exhibitionist, and an absolute thug (threatening her ex's Asian girlfriend by putting hoop earrings and sunglasses on a package of rice cakes was the perfect blend of her own ignorance and offensive nature.) A GQ reporter recently witnessed Rihanna tell producer and collaborator The-Dream that she wanted him to write songs tailor-made for easy Internet consumption: "It's gotta be tweet, retweet, trending topic!" None of it contains any of the "real"ness that she beats media over the head with. It's glossier than her perfect lips. When you think about it, without the slick beats, the outrageous sexy costumes, or the auto-tune, Rihanna wouldn't be the sensation she is today. OF COURSE, most of the pop stars (Britney, Ke$ha, and the like) wouldn't be stars either.
Why bother? She's an entertainer, does whatever the hell she wants (even if it makes zero sense) and can support herself financially doing something she enjoys. Credit where credit is due. But respect? Nope.
Chris Brown. The facts are these. He infamously and brutally beat his girlfriend Rihanna in 2009. The photographs were not doctored. Since then, instead of actually trying to live like the "good person" he has claimed he is, he's thrown temper tantrums at talk shows, thrown chairs, trashed rooms, started fights in bars, and dressed like a terrorist for giggles. STERLING. A few days ago, he snapped (yet again) at a female comedian who was ragging on him, and managed to bring a newly disgusting and pathetic (CHRIS BROWN IS PATHETIC INCARNATE) angle to the already weird and gross universe of Twitter. CB's explosive temper, both physical and verbal, is going to get someone killed someday. Calling it now.
And before anyone insinuates this is even remotely about race let me make it clear that I hate all men who beat women. Charlie Sheen. Edward Furlong. Sean Connery. Bill Murray. Tito Ortiz. I don't care who you are, or if you were in that movie I loved. A violent hand and you're done. I don't care that Chris Brown is a black man. I care that he is an awful human being.
Did the female comedian "start it"? She spoke first, and it wasn't exactly a courteous exchange. But instead of engage with opposing views and learn from them; Brown lashes out and calls his critics "haters," because anyone who disagrees with him is obviously just jealous. If Chris Brown is going to start fights with everyone on the internet who is disgusted by him, he should probably invest in a real comfy chair and an ergonomic keyboard, because it's going to be a while.
The saddest part about this, to me? The legions of Brown supporters, dubbed Team Breezy, who are largely just....kids. Kids, largely young black women, who leap to his defense no matter the transgression, and have gone so far as to launch repugnant verbal assaults - up to and including death threats - at anyone who dare say a negative word about their clown prince of slime. Why, guys? Some girls have even said (via Twitter) "I'd let Chris Brown beat me" in all sincerity. It makes me want to buy them all a coke (solves problems) and remind them that they're worth something too, and don't have to idolize this thug just because he is rich and produces dance music. What is his redeeming value? I'd ask them. What do you see in him, personally, as a man, that you want to emulate or be around? And if they say only the material things - his swag, his style - then you have your answer. They don't like you Breezy. They're not actually on your team. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't give half a golden fuck if you were burning to death in the streets. They just wish that they too - stupid kids with big dreams and a glaring lack of attention from peers and family - could have it all without having any talent or class to speak of.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Taking Pages From The Silver Linings Playbook
Perhaps this is simply what it means to grow up.
God....I hope not.
I trust you all had a nice Thanksgiving. Mine was spent in the company of friends, enjoying bountiful delicious food and drink. I mean, the holiday itself has never been a big deal for me, but if it's an excuse to have dessert twice, and chase that with AK's famous pumpkin pie jello shots and an Irish coffee, then I'll be there with bells on.
But I promise, it really isn't a romcom. Swears.
Sidenote: I just had the nicest conversation with THE SWEETEST man in our office. He's like a benevolent Uncle figure and has the best attitude on planet Earth and he just called me "a good egg." Awwww. Nice.
Ok. Back to SLP. So it's good. It really is. It's the best work I've seen from Bradley Cooper, and Robert DeNiro frequently made me feel like the walls were closing in...which is how we were supposed to react to him. It was NOT AT ALL fun to watch (there's a lot of poor decision making, followed by crying and screaming fights) but I admire the honesty of the storytelling for what it is. It doesn't pull punches when it comes to saying this family is really really screwed up, and they need to be medicated and in therapy. It's brutal. The joy of the film comes in the form of Jennifer Lawrence, who I find so likeable and spectacularly talented, I can hardly believe she's so young. Her performance is really outstanding, and I identified SO DEEPLY with her character - a woman who feels like she's gone off the rails with loss, who looks for answers in all the wrong places, and at the heart of things, is just trying to "read the signs" in order to find a happier life for herself and those she cares for. There were multiple scenes (I won't give anything away) that felt like I'd already lived myself, and reduced me to tears. What does it say to align myself so strongly with a character that everyone is calling "crazy" "lost" or "damaged?" I don't know. I honestly don't know. I dig that she's so flawed, she says all the wrong things and is blunt to a hilarious fault. But she's struggling - on and off medications (when they rattle off the depression meds at the dinner table, I was like "yep, yep yep.") wanting to feel like herself and not a grief zombie, but not really being able to get through the day without emotional cracks and serious self-doubt. But what makes her so great is that she knows she's troubled, but she's determined to make her life an enjoyable one. A tough see, but most certainly worthwhile.
Stay tuned for next time, when I discuss the hunt for the perfect Christmas tree, and how much I absolutely fucking hate both Chris Brown and Rihanna.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Sometimes, People Are Rude (And I Need To Deal With That)
I had a crazy experience this week. To put it succinctly (because after this I'm done talking about it), a guy who was interested in dating me went from zero to seriously disrespectful and I told him that I was no longer interested in speaking to him ever again. Subsequently, he responded that I needed to "grow the fuck up."
Charming, right? I sure can pick 'em. But the thing is, I knew from the very moment I let him know that I didn't want to keep communicating that he was going to say some rude things (on top of the wildly out-of-line stuff he'd already said). And, like pretty much anyone, I loathe being on the receiving end of hateful words.
When facing the challenge of how to deal with this fool, I went to my superheroine team of lady Avengers, and like true friends, they assembled. I ran the situation by them and 10 out of 10 ladies (both married and single) agreed that this dude was a total nutter and I needed to shut down that nonsense. When I told them I was afraid of the blowback, one put it perfectly when she said:
You feel horrible because you took a position that might upset another person, despite how awful that fucking person is for putting you in that place anyway. And you don't like upsetting people. Because you're a nice person.
So fuck that guy.
And she's 100% right. The thought that my actions could potentially upset another person, even someone I don't know at all, has always upset me, ever since I was little. Am I too nice? No way. But I have been at times, a ridiculous people-pleaser, and in the past my need to accommodate the feelings of others has overtaken my need to feel safe, and happy and comfortable. Part of turning 30 means that shit don't fly anymore, and I need to remember to look out for me too. This guy turned out to be a nasty, pushy creep. I feel duped. I deeply regret giving him my number, but what's happened happened and I just need to move past it. But I'm really proud of myself. Old me would have offered up some half-assed excuse-lie (I'm moving to China! ä½ å¥½!), or just tried to apologetically fade away. But I'm not going to be bullied and harassed by ANYBODY, much less some fucking pathetic loser. Sometimes you have to be honest with yourself and with others, because otherwise you're going to get pushed around by people who don't deserve your time of day.
Some people hope they get the wishbone with their turkey.
This year, I'm glad to get my own backbone.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all.
I'm not posting on Friday because I've been in a shitty mood all week - between this guy, general holiday malaise and the fact that my deadbeat landlord is taking his sweet fucking time fixing the clanging pipes in my room that wake me between 5:45-6:30am EVERY GODDAMN DAY.
But stay tuned for next time, when I talk about how I laughed, wept, and squirmed uncomfortably through Silver Linings Playbook and what it's like to see large parts of your personality associated with mental illness.
Monday, November 19, 2012
*Facepalm*
Remember last Wednesday? When I was all like "I'm not closing the door on love!"
Well, I'm recanting. Less than a week. Fuck that noise.
Talking with my fellow single ladies....well it looks a little something like this.
Seriously, though. I know many fine women who keep actual lists of things that they want (or in some cases, don't want, which are colloquially referred to as "dealbreakers" in a partner.)
I don't think I'm asking too much when I demand:
1. Mutual respect
2. Intelligent discourse
3. Attraction
4. Laughter
But apparently I am!! Yesterday, I realized that somebody I had been interested in is not at all the person he was portraying himself as. And I was BUMMED OUT. The fact that I will have to tell this dude I don't want anything to do with him upsets me. It's weird. I have this bizarre notion of wanting to "do right by everybody" but more often than not I need to actually tell some people to go fuck themselves. I just hate the blowback. Does any of this make sense?
Come on life. I have very little going for me right now. Throw me a freakin' bone here.
Well, I'm recanting. Less than a week. Fuck that noise.
Talking with my fellow single ladies....well it looks a little something like this.
Just another Tuesday at my place...
Seriously, though. I know many fine women who keep actual lists of things that they want (or in some cases, don't want, which are colloquially referred to as "dealbreakers" in a partner.)
I don't think I'm asking too much when I demand:
1. Mutual respect
2. Intelligent discourse
3. Attraction
4. Laughter
But apparently I am!! Yesterday, I realized that somebody I had been interested in is not at all the person he was portraying himself as. And I was BUMMED OUT. The fact that I will have to tell this dude I don't want anything to do with him upsets me. It's weird. I have this bizarre notion of wanting to "do right by everybody" but more often than not I need to actually tell some people to go fuck themselves. I just hate the blowback. Does any of this make sense?
Come on life. I have very little going for me right now. Throw me a freakin' bone here.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Say It Now While You Can
With the oncoming rush of Thanksgiving and the official kickoff of the holidays upon us, many friends have taken to mediums like Facebook and Twitter to express what they are grateful for.
Even though I find the exercise more than a bit cheesy, I think it's important in a world where we take so much for granted to step back and acknowledge that we've got it better than about 95% of the rest of the planet.
This week was hard to watch unfold. Two different groups of friends unexpectedly experienced the loss of a person they care about. I didn't know either of the deceased men, but to watch my friends mourn and grieve these shocking losses so close to the holidays...hurts. There is nothing I can do other than to offer my condolences and be present. I am so deeply sorry for their losses. The death of people our age really stuns so deeply - how can somebody who only really got their lives started suddenly be gone? Those who are left behind have few answers.
In the wake of these passings, I think about gratitude, and the incredibly high caliber of friend I've been fortunate to have all my life. I have had friends die. And I can't imagine it will ever get any easier, even when we're well into our 80s. So here's my suggestion.
And do it now. Do it as often as you can. Because at some point, you won't be able to.
Even though I find the exercise more than a bit cheesy, I think it's important in a world where we take so much for granted to step back and acknowledge that we've got it better than about 95% of the rest of the planet.
This week was hard to watch unfold. Two different groups of friends unexpectedly experienced the loss of a person they care about. I didn't know either of the deceased men, but to watch my friends mourn and grieve these shocking losses so close to the holidays...hurts. There is nothing I can do other than to offer my condolences and be present. I am so deeply sorry for their losses. The death of people our age really stuns so deeply - how can somebody who only really got their lives started suddenly be gone? Those who are left behind have few answers.
In the wake of these passings, I think about gratitude, and the incredibly high caliber of friend I've been fortunate to have all my life. I have had friends die. And I can't imagine it will ever get any easier, even when we're well into our 80s. So here's my suggestion.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
HAPPY 100TH POST!!!!
ONE HUNDRED POSTS!!
8,800 VIEWS!!!
RELEASE THE BALLOONS AND CONFETTI!! WE'RE ALL WINNERS HERE!!!!
Or my personal favorite, the lit-from-within Disneyland balloons (I like creative lighting!)
Next time, I'm buying a million of these.
Anyway, where was I? 100 posts, balloons.....oh yes. Dating. That's where I was going with this. I've come to the conclusion that if I don't take any risks with my heart (a tempting thought) there will be no rewards. I have been so shattered the past year over the loss of P, that even though I have attempted to put myself back together, it's never really been true. Suppose that is what happens when you get out of an emotionally abusive relationship. You still feel the happy memories and love that went with them, and remember all the good things...even though you can also very clearly remember when you felt scared, or miserable, or like you meant nothing to him. Since then, I've dated a few guys, and while none of them was right for me, a large part was the fact that my heart was simply not in it. And while I still feel incredibly fragile from time to time, I'm not throwing in the towel.
EXCITING THING!! (To me). Monday night, as I was leaving work, my work crush appeared out of nowhere and was at the elevator bank with me!!!!! We rode the elevator alone together.
On the outside, I looked like this:
In mah freaking dreams. Drive references are always on point.
So yay that happened. It's so small and silly but it made me really happy. And he's still more than likely gay. Whatevs. This might sound like a jackass statement, but I'm pretty charming (it's a family trait) and can attract a dude at a bar (just not in real life) with relative ease. (Granted, as M will tell you from the other night, I kind of stumble on the cusp of "closing the deal" but eventually I get there). This doesn't mean I can have any guy I want (that's pretty much the opposite of the truth, as evidenced by work crush) but I'm not ringing the cathedral bells either, so I do OK. But....again, once a person turns 30, for the most part, we're looking past that. We want to find someone we genuinely care about, are attracted to, and enjoy spending time with.
The hardest part of the dating process to me is....talking about myself. (I'm sure that "thud" heard round the world was the sound of your heads hitting the keyboards because all I seemingly do here is natter on and on about myself.) But the person (anonymous in print) who talks about experiences online is not the same person who took extra time trying to look nice when we meet up at the bar. For example, if you're a friend (which most of you are) you know my story. But a new person...how do you catch them up on who you are, and what you've been living through, without coming off as somebody buried under their baggage? I obviously take things pretty slowly (which I hate because I love the whirlwind passion thing, but I know that doesn't really line things up to last), but when the natural questions start happening, do you lie, or do you just tell the truth and try to make it seem like not a big deal, even though it leveled your world?? I'm still figuring that one out. Until then, I'll just be lurking around the elevator banks....
Monday, November 12, 2012
There Comes A Time To Answer...And It's Now
Today's post comes with a companion piece, which if you AREN'T already an angry and depressed (yet brilliant and well informed!) person such as myself, you might want to avoid....
http://jezebel.com/5958993/racist-teens-forced-to-answer-for-tweets-about-the-nigger-president
That's right. The title alone explains it. Jezebel noticed an alarming post-election trend on Twitter, about young people, mostly high-schoolers, using vitriolic, racially-charged hate speech in regards to the Commander-In-Chief. It's OK if you don't agree with the President. Recent election indicates that a very large amount of the country does not agree with him! BUT that doesn't mean it's OK to call him (or anyone) racial epithets on Twitter. This isn't about politics. It's about being held accountable for your actions.
Now, the rest of this I'm going to divide into sections: Full Disclosure, Opinions and Rage.
Full Disclosure: I really enjoy the articles posted on Jezebel. They make me think and react, and that's a good thing. I like to feel alive (even if it's with bad feelings) when I read things. I'd love to contribute to their site someday.
Opinions: These kids most certainly must face up to the consequences of their actions. You cannot have both sides of the free speech coin. Yes, you can say whatever you want, but you also have to face the music when people respond to what you said. Those who made direct threats (and yes, some were stupid enough to do just that) should get a little visit from the Secret Service. And the schools SHOULD be informed, not only because they've got some serious work to do (half these assholes can't spell and it's tragicomic) in terms of education BUT all these kids used accounts with their real names on it, and frequently post about their high schools. Go Spartans! Subsequently, all these schools are tied to ignorant, racist remarks via a simple Google search. Nice one!
Rage: They most likely learned such baseless hate from their parents. I mean, they're not calling President Obama a (God I hate even typing this) "nigger" or a "monkey" because they don't appreciate his foreign policy, or his stance on the economy. They hate the color of his skin. It's 2012, guys. Minorities aren't going to be minor much longer. So I'd suggest shaping up your attitude real quick.
Full Disclosure: Though most of the Twitter accounts have been deleted, some are still up and continuing to post, (I checked) including this one particularly defiant girl, Demi's.
Opinion: She wears her hatred like a coat of stupid with a zip-out lining of too much self worth. This kid thinks she's God's gift to planet Earth. She's actually the most pathetic one of them all.
Rage: Karma's a bitch, bitch. You'll get yours. And I hope it's hell.
Full Disclosure: Many people are upset with Jezebel for the expository nature of this piece, and call it "internet bullying of kids."
Opinion: 1.) These kids would be tried as adults in a court of law. They are old enough to know better. 2.) If they are old enough to have access to a global forum such as Twitter, they are old enough to get the backlash and public shitshow that ensues when they say something blatantly offensive. Like that girl Kristen Neel who tweeted about "the Christian President of Australia" which is in truth, the agnostic, female Prime Minister. Details, details. WHY ARE SO MANY AMERICAN KIDS EPIC FAILURES? The ones who casually throw around such hateful speech should most certainly face disciplinary action in their schools and communities. 3.) Maybe these kids should realize that internet bullying (of anyone, but in this case the PRESIDENT, you idiots) comes with a price.
Rage: I hope this incident follows them forever, hanging over like a black cloud of shame. I hope it fucks up all their (slim, I mean, seriously look at the spelling) chances of attending college. I hope it means they'll struggle. It's time to learn, and hateful people often need to learn the hard way.
It's time to answer for hate and ignorance. It's time to take responsibility for our actions.
The freedom to say what you want comes with consequences. That's why it's a freedom. It ain't free.
http://jezebel.com/5958993/racist-teens-forced-to-answer-for-tweets-about-the-nigger-president
That's right. The title alone explains it. Jezebel noticed an alarming post-election trend on Twitter, about young people, mostly high-schoolers, using vitriolic, racially-charged hate speech in regards to the Commander-In-Chief. It's OK if you don't agree with the President. Recent election indicates that a very large amount of the country does not agree with him! BUT that doesn't mean it's OK to call him (or anyone) racial epithets on Twitter. This isn't about politics. It's about being held accountable for your actions.
Now, the rest of this I'm going to divide into sections: Full Disclosure, Opinions and Rage.
Full Disclosure: I really enjoy the articles posted on Jezebel. They make me think and react, and that's a good thing. I like to feel alive (even if it's with bad feelings) when I read things. I'd love to contribute to their site someday.
Opinions: These kids most certainly must face up to the consequences of their actions. You cannot have both sides of the free speech coin. Yes, you can say whatever you want, but you also have to face the music when people respond to what you said. Those who made direct threats (and yes, some were stupid enough to do just that) should get a little visit from the Secret Service. And the schools SHOULD be informed, not only because they've got some serious work to do (half these assholes can't spell and it's tragicomic) in terms of education BUT all these kids used accounts with their real names on it, and frequently post about their high schools. Go Spartans! Subsequently, all these schools are tied to ignorant, racist remarks via a simple Google search. Nice one!
Rage: They most likely learned such baseless hate from their parents. I mean, they're not calling President Obama a (God I hate even typing this) "nigger" or a "monkey" because they don't appreciate his foreign policy, or his stance on the economy. They hate the color of his skin. It's 2012, guys. Minorities aren't going to be minor much longer. So I'd suggest shaping up your attitude real quick.
Full Disclosure: Though most of the Twitter accounts have been deleted, some are still up and continuing to post, (I checked) including this one particularly defiant girl, Demi's.
Opinion: She wears her hatred like a coat of stupid with a zip-out lining of too much self worth. This kid thinks she's God's gift to planet Earth. She's actually the most pathetic one of them all.
Rage: Karma's a bitch, bitch. You'll get yours. And I hope it's hell.
Full Disclosure: Many people are upset with Jezebel for the expository nature of this piece, and call it "internet bullying of kids."
Opinion: 1.) These kids would be tried as adults in a court of law. They are old enough to know better. 2.) If they are old enough to have access to a global forum such as Twitter, they are old enough to get the backlash and public shitshow that ensues when they say something blatantly offensive. Like that girl Kristen Neel who tweeted about "the Christian President of Australia" which is in truth, the agnostic, female Prime Minister. Details, details. WHY ARE SO MANY AMERICAN KIDS EPIC FAILURES? The ones who casually throw around such hateful speech should most certainly face disciplinary action in their schools and communities. 3.) Maybe these kids should realize that internet bullying (of anyone, but in this case the PRESIDENT, you idiots) comes with a price.
Rage: I hope this incident follows them forever, hanging over like a black cloud of shame. I hope it fucks up all their (slim, I mean, seriously look at the spelling) chances of attending college. I hope it means they'll struggle. It's time to learn, and hateful people often need to learn the hard way.
It's time to answer for hate and ignorance. It's time to take responsibility for our actions.
The freedom to say what you want comes with consequences. That's why it's a freedom. It ain't free.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Confidence
Friends. Strangers. Countrymen and Expats. Lend me your ears....
I come to theorize on confidence, not merely to attempt to boost my own...
I am all over the goddamn place emotionally this morning. Some of it is (unscheduled) hormonal insanity, but the rest....I don't know. I did say the holidays would be kind of hard for me. I guess it's starting. Because you know the holidays start when Starbucks rolls out the Gingerbread latte. *However, Eggnog is missing. WHERE. IS. EGGNOG?!?!
Whenever I'm feeling in doubt about my ability to keep it together (cough*allthetime*cough) I think about what it means to be a "confident" woman, and how they come to appear so. I specifically say "appear" because I don't believe that anyone can be confident all the time. We waver. We doubt. But in this case, I think strength comes from the ability to fake it til you make it. Maybe when it comes to confidence, a little self-delusion can go a long way. I'm not saying be horrible to others, or assume you can cheat death (because then I'll be nominating you for a Darwin) but perhaps think better of yourself than you might usually. My thought process was extradited upon reading this really inspiring interview with Gabourey Sidibe, most famous for her portrayal of Precious, in Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (BAD TITLE).
Now. Let me talk about Ms. Sidibe for a minute. I don't know much about her as a performer (I've only seen Tower Heist, and I'd had a few glasses) but she seems like a nice girl. A bright woman with a really good head on her shoulders, considering what a brutal emotional and physical mind-fuck Hollywood is. The weight question I see this way: she loves herself, which is great. Fuller-figured women could use a role model. Is she healthy? I'm not a doctor, but I don't believe so. And that troubles me. Because by no means should obese people be shunned or mocked, but at the same time, I'm not going to advocate that anyone should be that size. I know a personal trainer who is a short, full-figured black woman. Not "skinny" at all, but strong and fast and bodacious. This is the type of woman I aspire to. Feminine. Powerful. Healthy.
But today is not about weight. Today is about perception, and how much I admire Ms. Sidibe's attitude towards approaching confidence. I'm sure it's easier to be confident when you are a known, financially solvent movie star. Even so, she is unconventional in appearance from the "standard" of American beauty, and has had more than her fair share of public derision. As a girl who grew up heavy and was frequently on the receiving end of some nasty taunts, I understand. I do.
So how does one be confident when the odds seem stacked against you?
"...confidence is absolutely a decision. And not a one-time decision, either. It requires recommitment everyday. Being confident on Monday doesn't mean you're confident on Tuesday, and that doesn't mean you're weak. It means that you are a fighter, and you might even have the battle scars to prove it.
Curate your experiences, she insists.
"I am ambitious for the continuation of my happiness."
I love that last bit. I could definitely crib a page from her playbook.
Here's to a confident Friday and successful weekend.
I come to theorize on confidence, not merely to attempt to boost my own...
I am all over the goddamn place emotionally this morning. Some of it is (unscheduled) hormonal insanity, but the rest....I don't know. I did say the holidays would be kind of hard for me. I guess it's starting. Because you know the holidays start when Starbucks rolls out the Gingerbread latte. *However, Eggnog is missing. WHERE. IS. EGGNOG?!?!
I love that Red Cups have trained us into accepting the arrival of the holidays.
Whenever I'm feeling in doubt about my ability to keep it together (cough*allthetime*cough) I think about what it means to be a "confident" woman, and how they come to appear so. I specifically say "appear" because I don't believe that anyone can be confident all the time. We waver. We doubt. But in this case, I think strength comes from the ability to fake it til you make it. Maybe when it comes to confidence, a little self-delusion can go a long way. I'm not saying be horrible to others, or assume you can cheat death (because then I'll be nominating you for a Darwin) but perhaps think better of yourself than you might usually. My thought process was extradited upon reading this really inspiring interview with Gabourey Sidibe, most famous for her portrayal of Precious, in Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire (BAD TITLE).
Now. Let me talk about Ms. Sidibe for a minute. I don't know much about her as a performer (I've only seen Tower Heist, and I'd had a few glasses) but she seems like a nice girl. A bright woman with a really good head on her shoulders, considering what a brutal emotional and physical mind-fuck Hollywood is. The weight question I see this way: she loves herself, which is great. Fuller-figured women could use a role model. Is she healthy? I'm not a doctor, but I don't believe so. And that troubles me. Because by no means should obese people be shunned or mocked, but at the same time, I'm not going to advocate that anyone should be that size. I know a personal trainer who is a short, full-figured black woman. Not "skinny" at all, but strong and fast and bodacious. This is the type of woman I aspire to. Feminine. Powerful. Healthy.
But today is not about weight. Today is about perception, and how much I admire Ms. Sidibe's attitude towards approaching confidence. I'm sure it's easier to be confident when you are a known, financially solvent movie star. Even so, she is unconventional in appearance from the "standard" of American beauty, and has had more than her fair share of public derision. As a girl who grew up heavy and was frequently on the receiving end of some nasty taunts, I understand. I do.
So how does one be confident when the odds seem stacked against you?
"...confidence is absolutely a decision. And not a one-time decision, either. It requires recommitment everyday. Being confident on Monday doesn't mean you're confident on Tuesday, and that doesn't mean you're weak. It means that you are a fighter, and you might even have the battle scars to prove it.
Curate your experiences, she insists.
"I am ambitious for the continuation of my happiness."
I love that last bit. I could definitely crib a page from her playbook.
Here's to a confident Friday and successful weekend.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Putting the "Twit" Back in Twitter....
Slowly reading the instruction booklet on "Social Media Empire for Dummies...."
Follow me?
@SaintJamestown
Follow me?
@SaintJamestown
That's President Sassypants To You....
....said Barack Obama, all the time, everywhere.
As I'm sure you could tell from my previous post, I am enormously pleased with the outcome of this election. But I think it's also important not to gloat and be an asshole. The country is radically divided, as evidenced by how insanely close many of the states were. What needs to happen now is a lot of WORK and some serious, epic, talking on all sides. Because even though we will never 100% agree on everything all the time, it's important to put the voters first. I hope the coming four years sees a great growth in jobs. I hope international conflicts are fewer in number and more peacefully resolved. I hope we see a big uptick in Americans confidence in themselves and the leaders they have elected to office. I hope more states take the step to legalize gay marriage. (Other states....if Maryland can do it, so can you. I can say this as someone born in Maryland. Get with it.) I hope more smart, strong women enter the political arena. I hope. Because I've still got hope.
Last night, I was thinking about who the next generation of political leaders will be. I look at Julian Castro and Cory Booker and Kirsten Gillibrand and there is hope. I think there are people (like Barack Obama) who get into politics because they want to make a positive impact on their communities, and the nation as a whole. They start locally, as city council, or community organizers, and grow from there. A guy I went to high school with was elected to the City Council last night, and truly I am delighted for him. I think he will make a GREAT elected official, because I know how much he loves that city, and wants to give back. And although I peaced out of there a lifetime ago, I respect that.
Here's to Hope. Here's to those wanting to make a difference. Forward.
SO DAMN SASSY!!!
As I'm sure you could tell from my previous post, I am enormously pleased with the outcome of this election. But I think it's also important not to gloat and be an asshole. The country is radically divided, as evidenced by how insanely close many of the states were. What needs to happen now is a lot of WORK and some serious, epic, talking on all sides. Because even though we will never 100% agree on everything all the time, it's important to put the voters first. I hope the coming four years sees a great growth in jobs. I hope international conflicts are fewer in number and more peacefully resolved. I hope we see a big uptick in Americans confidence in themselves and the leaders they have elected to office. I hope more states take the step to legalize gay marriage. (Other states....if Maryland can do it, so can you. I can say this as someone born in Maryland. Get with it.) I hope more smart, strong women enter the political arena. I hope. Because I've still got hope.
Last night, I was thinking about who the next generation of political leaders will be. I look at Julian Castro and Cory Booker and Kirsten Gillibrand and there is hope. I think there are people (like Barack Obama) who get into politics because they want to make a positive impact on their communities, and the nation as a whole. They start locally, as city council, or community organizers, and grow from there. A guy I went to high school with was elected to the City Council last night, and truly I am delighted for him. I think he will make a GREAT elected official, because I know how much he loves that city, and wants to give back. And although I peaced out of there a lifetime ago, I respect that.
Here's to Hope. Here's to those wanting to make a difference. Forward.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Election Reflection
Four years ago tomorrow, I sat huddled with three amazing friends as we stood in a packed London bar and watched the results of the election come in. Made even more punchy by the difference in time zones, it will always be a perfect and happy memory for me. When I think of us now, literally scattered across the globe (Los Angeles, New York, London and Sydney) I understand the bigger picture of how such a seemingly small amount of time can change your life. In my 30 years on this planet, I have seen the Reagan, Bush1, Clinton, Bush2 and Obama presidencies. But truly, the last four years have been the ones where I have seen the most, and done the largest amount of growing up. It is my experiences during this time that have cemented my decision to go to my local poll tomorrow and vote to keep President Obama in office. Because my last four years have informed me that (in my opinion) he is the best man to hold the job.
I have friends (not many, but still) who are Republicans and will be voting for Romney tomorrow. While that makes me sad, it is their choice, their vote, their contribution to democracy. Politics is a tricky thing in friendship - finding a way to care for and respect others while still disagreeing with some of their ways of thinking.
When I started writing this blog, the "goal" was to impart some of the "wisdom" and "experiences" (aka crazy shitshow stories) I have amassed over the last 30 years. Though I often deviate to bring you updates on my work crush (still so hot. still unsure if he's gay.) and other nonsense, today I revert to basics, breaking down the biggest lessons I have learned in the last four years, and why I'm not losing faith in the man I voted for in 2008.
The Economy - Many Americans are voting for Mitt Romney solely on the hope that he can get the Economy roaring back again. But I believe it is important to look at the fiscal reports that make it abundantly clear that the primary causes of the debt predate Barack Obama. According to The Washington Post, "The post-9/11 wars and security build-up, the Bush tax cuts, and the 2001 and 2008 recessions simply began before Obama became president. You can blame him for extending the Bush tax cuts till 2012, or for the stimulus (though the stimulus would never have happened without the 2008 financial crisis), but the structural of deterioration came in the Bush years."
Now. Romney supporters are wondering why Obama didn't fix everything wrong with the economy in four years. That is simply not possible. It's not. Especially not when Republican law-makers such as Mitch McConnell have been quoted in their goal to stymie progress in order to get nothing done and keep Obama in office for one term. They go out of their way to block job creation bills. Keep Americans suffering (and the economy down) long enough to put a Republican in office? How can ANYONE who claims to want to "serve the people and the greater good" do that?
Over the last four years I have worked multiple jobs to keep myself afloat. And oftentimes I have hated them, because (snobby but true) they've been beneath me in terms of intelligence. But you know what? I sucked it up and survived. I'm not a doctor, or a lawyer. I have degrees (by choice) in things that aren't exactly profitable, and I know that nothing is going to be simply handed to me. So in order to keep doing what I love (arts!) I will have to perform less glamorous jobs for survival. That's just how life is.
Interestingly enough, I worked for two years for a British company, and I loved it. I had hoped to build myself up high in their ranks, and move from the shop floor to the more creative PR division. It wasn't until the company was sold to an American Conglomerate (Retail Group of America!) that all of a sudden everyone who'd built the US stores from the ground up were let go or forced out. So let's not romanticize American jobs, because we're stabbing each other in the back here at home even more than overseas.
I was unemployed for about two months and it was terrifying. I cannot imagine being unsure of one's stability for a longer stretch of time, and my heart aches for those who despite being more than qualified, cannot find steady employment in any field. I was fortunate enough to have friends looking out for me, and have subsequently found a really really good job. But it wasn't all sheer dumb luck -I was scared but I was looking. You can't give up and throw in the towel. You've got to be pounding the pavement every day, looking on job websites and everything. It's hard work for everyone involved.
Love and Human Rights - This one is simple. Romney's own words speak for themselves.
"Some gays are actually having children born to them. It's not right on paper. It's not right in fact...It may affect the development of children and thereby future society as a whole.''
Damn those gays! Wanting basic human freedoms to love! Liberties to marry! The right to a happy life! Was America founded on the basis of freedom, liberty and rights?!? Nooo...Oh, wait a minute.
I don't think anyone with gay friends (Isn't that all of us?) has a leg to stand on when voting for Romney. It is a slap in the face. My taxes are more important than your basic human freedoms. (Bad News: Romney is going to raise taxes for everyone!). I fear that your children will be deeply ashamed of you, when they look back at this point in time. Because to them, it's going to be the same as the civil rights movement was to us. "Black people couldn't use the same bathroom? What the fuck was wrong with you people?"
I want to go to at least 10 gay weddings in the next four years.
And that's not just an excuse to buy a bunch of new dresses, either.
Women's Bodies - Often times I think I don't want to bring a child into this world...between the temperature freakouts of planet Earth, the denial that homosexuals are human beings, and the thought that a Romney administration will absolutely work to overturn Roe v. Wade and put the kibosh on my right to decide what goes on in my uterus.
In the event Romney is elected, this blog might have to stop. Because I'm going to on-the-run as a feminist vigilante super heroine, dashing across the country trying to save women's clinics.
Truly, though. How fucking dare ANYBODY tell ANYBODY ELSE what they can and can't do with their bodies. If it's inside me, it's off limits to you. And vice versa!! I won't try and regulate your testicles if you do me the same courtesy. Period. End of story.
Senior Care - Last but most certainly not least, is care of Senior Citizens. Aging in America is certainly different now than it was even fifteen years ago, but even the healthiest senior should be aware of what is going on currently with Medicare. The number of seniors on Medicare is expected to be around 62 million by 2020. Subsequently, not a program to be fucked around with, eh? (I've said eh? twice now. Canada calls.) A study from the Kaiser Family Foundation shows that the Romney/Ryan plans to overhaul medicare will result in increased cost - 59% of seniors paying higher premiums in order to receive the same Medicare plans they currently use. Seniors in places with very expensive health care (Florida!) might have to pay much, much higher premiums to get the coverage they have today. Medicare would remain an option for seniors, but in order to choose this option, some seniors would have to pony up even more money.
The only reason my family isn't completely bankrupt is that my mother was savvy enough to make sure that my father was signed up for Medicare before he turned 65 (which almost didn't happen, because people with dementia aren't really bothered with checking their mail and signing up for shit) as well as TriCare for Life, which is a health program for Uniformed Service members and retirees, which my dad is. It is with the aid of these programs (as well as my parent's savings) that Mom pays for Dad's care. That's it. Without it, we'd be so fucked, to put it bluntly. I mean, we're still somewhat fucked just due to healthcare costs in general, but that's life. So, fellow young adults. Please don't just think about your needs. Think about your parents. Because this time is coming for all of us, if it hasn't already. YOU HAVE TO THINK AHEAD. Plans need to be laid out and they need to be clear. You can't just be like "I'll tell you later, issa secret!" like Romney and Ryan.
To conclude. I thought about throwing in one of those ridiculous Paul Ryan weight-lifting pictures (seriously? HIM?) then decided against it in hopes of keeping my points serious. Because this needs to be taken seriously. Everything can change in four years. It did for me. However you vote, you need to be thinking ahead and know that.
See you on the other side of the polls....
I have friends (not many, but still) who are Republicans and will be voting for Romney tomorrow. While that makes me sad, it is their choice, their vote, their contribution to democracy. Politics is a tricky thing in friendship - finding a way to care for and respect others while still disagreeing with some of their ways of thinking.
When I started writing this blog, the "goal" was to impart some of the "wisdom" and "experiences" (aka crazy shitshow stories) I have amassed over the last 30 years. Though I often deviate to bring you updates on my work crush (still so hot. still unsure if he's gay.) and other nonsense, today I revert to basics, breaking down the biggest lessons I have learned in the last four years, and why I'm not losing faith in the man I voted for in 2008.
The Economy - Many Americans are voting for Mitt Romney solely on the hope that he can get the Economy roaring back again. But I believe it is important to look at the fiscal reports that make it abundantly clear that the primary causes of the debt predate Barack Obama. According to The Washington Post, "The post-9/11 wars and security build-up, the Bush tax cuts, and the 2001 and 2008 recessions simply began before Obama became president. You can blame him for extending the Bush tax cuts till 2012, or for the stimulus (though the stimulus would never have happened without the 2008 financial crisis), but the structural of deterioration came in the Bush years."
Now. Romney supporters are wondering why Obama didn't fix everything wrong with the economy in four years. That is simply not possible. It's not. Especially not when Republican law-makers such as Mitch McConnell have been quoted in their goal to stymie progress in order to get nothing done and keep Obama in office for one term. They go out of their way to block job creation bills. Keep Americans suffering (and the economy down) long enough to put a Republican in office? How can ANYONE who claims to want to "serve the people and the greater good" do that?
Over the last four years I have worked multiple jobs to keep myself afloat. And oftentimes I have hated them, because (snobby but true) they've been beneath me in terms of intelligence. But you know what? I sucked it up and survived. I'm not a doctor, or a lawyer. I have degrees (by choice) in things that aren't exactly profitable, and I know that nothing is going to be simply handed to me. So in order to keep doing what I love (arts!) I will have to perform less glamorous jobs for survival. That's just how life is.
Interestingly enough, I worked for two years for a British company, and I loved it. I had hoped to build myself up high in their ranks, and move from the shop floor to the more creative PR division. It wasn't until the company was sold to an American Conglomerate (Retail Group of America!) that all of a sudden everyone who'd built the US stores from the ground up were let go or forced out. So let's not romanticize American jobs, because we're stabbing each other in the back here at home even more than overseas.
I was unemployed for about two months and it was terrifying. I cannot imagine being unsure of one's stability for a longer stretch of time, and my heart aches for those who despite being more than qualified, cannot find steady employment in any field. I was fortunate enough to have friends looking out for me, and have subsequently found a really really good job. But it wasn't all sheer dumb luck -I was scared but I was looking. You can't give up and throw in the towel. You've got to be pounding the pavement every day, looking on job websites and everything. It's hard work for everyone involved.
Love and Human Rights - This one is simple. Romney's own words speak for themselves.
"Some gays are actually having children born to them. It's not right on paper. It's not right in fact...It may affect the development of children and thereby future society as a whole.''
Damn those gays! Wanting basic human freedoms to love! Liberties to marry! The right to a happy life! Was America founded on the basis of freedom, liberty and rights?!? Nooo...Oh, wait a minute.
I don't think anyone with gay friends (Isn't that all of us?) has a leg to stand on when voting for Romney. It is a slap in the face. My taxes are more important than your basic human freedoms. (Bad News: Romney is going to raise taxes for everyone!). I fear that your children will be deeply ashamed of you, when they look back at this point in time. Because to them, it's going to be the same as the civil rights movement was to us. "Black people couldn't use the same bathroom? What the fuck was wrong with you people?"
I want to go to at least 10 gay weddings in the next four years.
And that's not just an excuse to buy a bunch of new dresses, either.
Women's Bodies - Often times I think I don't want to bring a child into this world...between the temperature freakouts of planet Earth, the denial that homosexuals are human beings, and the thought that a Romney administration will absolutely work to overturn Roe v. Wade and put the kibosh on my right to decide what goes on in my uterus.
In the event Romney is elected, this blog might have to stop. Because I'm going to on-the-run as a feminist vigilante super heroine, dashing across the country trying to save women's clinics.
Truly, though. How fucking dare ANYBODY tell ANYBODY ELSE what they can and can't do with their bodies. If it's inside me, it's off limits to you. And vice versa!! I won't try and regulate your testicles if you do me the same courtesy. Period. End of story.
Senior Care - Last but most certainly not least, is care of Senior Citizens. Aging in America is certainly different now than it was even fifteen years ago, but even the healthiest senior should be aware of what is going on currently with Medicare. The number of seniors on Medicare is expected to be around 62 million by 2020. Subsequently, not a program to be fucked around with, eh? (I've said eh? twice now. Canada calls.) A study from the Kaiser Family Foundation shows that the Romney/Ryan plans to overhaul medicare will result in increased cost - 59% of seniors paying higher premiums in order to receive the same Medicare plans they currently use. Seniors in places with very expensive health care (Florida!) might have to pay much, much higher premiums to get the coverage they have today. Medicare would remain an option for seniors, but in order to choose this option, some seniors would have to pony up even more money.
The only reason my family isn't completely bankrupt is that my mother was savvy enough to make sure that my father was signed up for Medicare before he turned 65 (which almost didn't happen, because people with dementia aren't really bothered with checking their mail and signing up for shit) as well as TriCare for Life, which is a health program for Uniformed Service members and retirees, which my dad is. It is with the aid of these programs (as well as my parent's savings) that Mom pays for Dad's care. That's it. Without it, we'd be so fucked, to put it bluntly. I mean, we're still somewhat fucked just due to healthcare costs in general, but that's life. So, fellow young adults. Please don't just think about your needs. Think about your parents. Because this time is coming for all of us, if it hasn't already. YOU HAVE TO THINK AHEAD. Plans need to be laid out and they need to be clear. You can't just be like "I'll tell you later, issa secret!" like Romney and Ryan.
To conclude. I thought about throwing in one of those ridiculous Paul Ryan weight-lifting pictures (seriously? HIM?) then decided against it in hopes of keeping my points serious. Because this needs to be taken seriously. Everything can change in four years. It did for me. However you vote, you need to be thinking ahead and know that.
See you on the other side of the polls....
Friday, November 2, 2012
NaNoWriMotivateMe or, How I Learned to Cope with My Own Inadequacies and Ponder the Marathon
National Novel Writing Month....also known as NaNoWriMo. Where writers lock themselves away for the month of November (often simultaneously growing mustaches for Movember) and attempt to hack out a novel of at least 50,000 words. There are cool events like kick-off parties and "write ins" which not only foster a sense of community, but create encouragement and sparks inspiration for those who may be struggling.
Many friends have taken part in the event, and it has brought them great creative and personal satisfaction. I have not read their novels.
But for some reason...November is just not a great time of year for me...especially not one to be trying to finally make something out of the mountain of notes lurking in the yellow pad of my iPhone. I'd like to write a novel, but there is something about the pressure to hack it out in a month that is really unappealing to me. GRANTED I obviously need repeated and swift kicks in the ass to get anything done in regards to my writing (a sign of....depression? ADD? Failure?) I care about my stories. I think they're really exciting and interesting! I see so much potential for greatness.
I just....I can't write now (ha). But seriously, guys. I can't.
I've been trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I thought it was writer's block, but I've got a notebook and a half full of notes and I keep working on scripts in like, 2 hour increments, but in the big picture this is simply not enough. I cannot focus. I've been opening up files (discreetly) at work, and scribbling in a notebook when I'm on the move but I feel again like it's going nowhere. And it's super depressing. Can you tell how much this upsets me?? Maybe I'm only going to be a hobby writer. Maybe the muse left town with no forwarding address. Either way I feel fucked over.
Speaking of fucked over, let's talk about the New York City Marathon, going forward as planned this Sunday despite the fact that, uh, the city got wrecked last weekend in the hurricane. I see valid points on both sides. The marathon (usually) evokes a massive, triumphant outpouring of good will, and I <3 NYC type stuff. People trained all year for this. Millions of dollars in charitable donations have been pledged to runners. I get it. A lot of stuff goes down the drains. And couldn't we all use an emotional pick-me-up? BUT AGAIN. City. Burroughs. Destruction. Death. Shortages. Chaos.
Do you ever make pro/con lists to help with big decisions, like taking a job or dumping a boyfriend? I do! They are so helpful, and lay facts out quite neatly. So here's my Marathon Pro/Con list.
Pros
Cons
I think it's pretty clear that the Cons at this point greatly outweigh the Pros. But here is my solution friends, and I'm not saying I should run for mayor (because I'd never be as much of a BOSS as Newark Mayor Cory Booker, who invited people in need over to his house via Twitter and is pretty much my front-runner candidate for the next election. He even tweets back to constituents in need who are clearly just stoned - "I'm outta hot pockets") but if I WERE the person in charge I would offer this as the simple solution:
Postpone.
Yes, New York. I think we can meet in the middle here. Will there be pain-in-the-ass bureaucratic red tape and scheduling hassles. Of course. But it can happen. Anyway, I think it could. Hell, wait 3 weeks and do some kind of huge charitable tie-in with the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. That way we can devote the time to getting everyone out of danger and back on stable ground that is so desperately needed right now. Energy and resources need to be focused on the people who live here that need help. I don't think putting off the (largely) well-off populace that runs in these types of events will end the world. Wait 3 weeks. Get some more training in. And then the city could really come together as one in celebration and good will of having gotten our shit back together and honoring our great and resilient city.
Me for Mayor! Yay!
(No. I don't want to be Mayor. I'd be the meanest Mayor ever.)
Many friends have taken part in the event, and it has brought them great creative and personal satisfaction. I have not read their novels.
But for some reason...November is just not a great time of year for me...especially not one to be trying to finally make something out of the mountain of notes lurking in the yellow pad of my iPhone. I'd like to write a novel, but there is something about the pressure to hack it out in a month that is really unappealing to me. GRANTED I obviously need repeated and swift kicks in the ass to get anything done in regards to my writing (a sign of....depression? ADD? Failure?) I care about my stories. I think they're really exciting and interesting! I see so much potential for greatness.
I just....I can't write now (ha). But seriously, guys. I can't.
I've been trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. I thought it was writer's block, but I've got a notebook and a half full of notes and I keep working on scripts in like, 2 hour increments, but in the big picture this is simply not enough. I cannot focus. I've been opening up files (discreetly) at work, and scribbling in a notebook when I'm on the move but I feel again like it's going nowhere. And it's super depressing. Can you tell how much this upsets me?? Maybe I'm only going to be a hobby writer. Maybe the muse left town with no forwarding address. Either way I feel fucked over.
Speaking of fucked over, let's talk about the New York City Marathon, going forward as planned this Sunday despite the fact that, uh, the city got wrecked last weekend in the hurricane. I see valid points on both sides. The marathon (usually) evokes a massive, triumphant outpouring of good will, and I <3 NYC type stuff. People trained all year for this. Millions of dollars in charitable donations have been pledged to runners. I get it. A lot of stuff goes down the drains. And couldn't we all use an emotional pick-me-up? BUT AGAIN. City. Burroughs. Destruction. Death. Shortages. Chaos.
Do you ever make pro/con lists to help with big decisions, like taking a job or dumping a boyfriend? I do! They are so helpful, and lay facts out quite neatly. So here's my Marathon Pro/Con list.
Pros
- People have trained for this!
- Inspires triumphant stories and outpourings of goodwill and support (I have totally cried in years past watching runners pause to greet loved ones along the way. It. Is. Incredible.
- Millions of dollars pledged and raised for charity
Cons
- New Jersey, Lower Manhattan, The Rockaways in Queens and most of Staten Island remain devastated, without power, with food and basic needs in desperately short supply. Food and gasoline are running out in many areas and being rationed. You currently cannot cross a bridge without three people in your car.
- Bodies are still being pulled from wreckages and flooded areas. Not OK. At all. Can we really afford to divert police attention from this for a run? A RUN?!?
- Staten Island and New Jersey still need aid desperately. New York is not just Manhattan. That's an important thing to remember, especially in times of need. We are five Burroughs and a closely-knit Tri-State area.
I think it's pretty clear that the Cons at this point greatly outweigh the Pros. But here is my solution friends, and I'm not saying I should run for mayor (because I'd never be as much of a BOSS as Newark Mayor Cory Booker, who invited people in need over to his house via Twitter and is pretty much my front-runner candidate for the next election. He even tweets back to constituents in need who are clearly just stoned - "I'm outta hot pockets") but if I WERE the person in charge I would offer this as the simple solution:
Postpone.
Yes, New York. I think we can meet in the middle here. Will there be pain-in-the-ass bureaucratic red tape and scheduling hassles. Of course. But it can happen. Anyway, I think it could. Hell, wait 3 weeks and do some kind of huge charitable tie-in with the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. That way we can devote the time to getting everyone out of danger and back on stable ground that is so desperately needed right now. Energy and resources need to be focused on the people who live here that need help. I don't think putting off the (largely) well-off populace that runs in these types of events will end the world. Wait 3 weeks. Get some more training in. And then the city could really come together as one in celebration and good will of having gotten our shit back together and honoring our great and resilient city.
Me for Mayor! Yay!
(No. I don't want to be Mayor. I'd be the meanest Mayor ever.)
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Not the Halloween I'd Planned....
Ho-kay....so.
Before we get to the nitty gritty I thought I'd start out by saying, YES, I am back at work. And yes, very few people are here with me. Apparently the phones are also down, which means I am largely going to be sitting here looking at crazy hurricane photos all day. That and eating the scrumptious apple crumbly cake that L dropped off at my desk this morning, like a glorious baked goods goddess.
I walked by that collapsed crane on the way in this morning. It's around the corner from my office. It is actually terrifying to see in person, when you think that all over this city giant cranes are strapped to rooftops high in the air, and perhaps they aren't really as sturdy as you thought. Most of the damage in and around my area came from downed trees and collapsed scaffolding.
We were watching the news last night, and both my roomie and I were pretty incensed at the reporters on various stations trying to further increase the drama of the situation by comparing Hurricane Sandy to not just one but all of these events:
*September 11th
*Hurricane Katrina
*The Tsunami in Thailand
*China Earthquake
*Haiti Earthquake
As someone on the ground here, let me say this. Hurricane Sandy was horrible. No doubt. The loss of life (29 was the last I heard) and certainly billions it will cost to repair the city is a terrible blow. We all feel it. Seeing parts of town I know and love submerged and ruined...it takes your breath away like a punch in the gut. HOWEVER. It is in no way on scale with those other disasters (thousands upon thousands dead, cities wiped out, spread of disease). We're going to be OK. The power, while terribly gross and inconvenient, will come back on. Flooded subways are being pumped as I type. We are a fortunate city, with a lot of stamina and the resources to bounce back. That is the thing: we have the resources. New York City has the capacity to rebuild, much more quickly than most. A city of nine million won't let projects go undone. (It's like a love/hate thing I have with this place. New Yorkers are so spoiled that they can't function without all the little luxuries they now take as necessity, so every little bakery and shop MUST reopen asap! Little Timmy needs his organic muffins!) This alone gives us a great advantage over most other places faced with disaster: we have the money and the drive to rebuild, and quickly. So yes, this week has been pretty brutal, to say the least. But we'll be fine. New York will always rebuild.
Today is Halloween, and frankly, I understand why no one seems to give a fuck. There are bigger problems. But, because I try to keep things fun even in the face of disaster, I am dressed as Waldo (as in "Where's?") today. This means simply that I am wearing my red/white striped shirt and have my glasses in my bag. It's like a stealthy costume. Fellow employees might think I am simply a hipster. Sadly, though, I am missing the one most crucial part of my costume...
MY CANE!
Which is made all the more ironic by the fact that I slept on my back kind of crazy last night and am in all sorts of pain today. Like, really really horrible pain that I'm trying to stretch out discreetly without bursting into screams pain. So I could actually use a cane today. Dressed as Waldo. Oh life.
Before we get to the nitty gritty I thought I'd start out by saying, YES, I am back at work. And yes, very few people are here with me. Apparently the phones are also down, which means I am largely going to be sitting here looking at crazy hurricane photos all day. That and eating the scrumptious apple crumbly cake that L dropped off at my desk this morning, like a glorious baked goods goddess.
I walked by that collapsed crane on the way in this morning. It's around the corner from my office. It is actually terrifying to see in person, when you think that all over this city giant cranes are strapped to rooftops high in the air, and perhaps they aren't really as sturdy as you thought. Most of the damage in and around my area came from downed trees and collapsed scaffolding.
We were watching the news last night, and both my roomie and I were pretty incensed at the reporters on various stations trying to further increase the drama of the situation by comparing Hurricane Sandy to not just one but all of these events:
*September 11th
*Hurricane Katrina
*The Tsunami in Thailand
*China Earthquake
*Haiti Earthquake
As someone on the ground here, let me say this. Hurricane Sandy was horrible. No doubt. The loss of life (29 was the last I heard) and certainly billions it will cost to repair the city is a terrible blow. We all feel it. Seeing parts of town I know and love submerged and ruined...it takes your breath away like a punch in the gut. HOWEVER. It is in no way on scale with those other disasters (thousands upon thousands dead, cities wiped out, spread of disease). We're going to be OK. The power, while terribly gross and inconvenient, will come back on. Flooded subways are being pumped as I type. We are a fortunate city, with a lot of stamina and the resources to bounce back. That is the thing: we have the resources. New York City has the capacity to rebuild, much more quickly than most. A city of nine million won't let projects go undone. (It's like a love/hate thing I have with this place. New Yorkers are so spoiled that they can't function without all the little luxuries they now take as necessity, so every little bakery and shop MUST reopen asap! Little Timmy needs his organic muffins!) This alone gives us a great advantage over most other places faced with disaster: we have the money and the drive to rebuild, and quickly. So yes, this week has been pretty brutal, to say the least. But we'll be fine. New York will always rebuild.
Today is Halloween, and frankly, I understand why no one seems to give a fuck. There are bigger problems. But, because I try to keep things fun even in the face of disaster, I am dressed as Waldo (as in "Where's?") today. This means simply that I am wearing my red/white striped shirt and have my glasses in my bag. It's like a stealthy costume. Fellow employees might think I am simply a hipster. Sadly, though, I am missing the one most crucial part of my costume...
Which is made all the more ironic by the fact that I slept on my back kind of crazy last night and am in all sorts of pain today. Like, really really horrible pain that I'm trying to stretch out discreetly without bursting into screams pain. So I could actually use a cane today. Dressed as Waldo. Oh life.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Cabin Fever and Weird Food Things
It's day one of Hurricane Sandy, and I'm dying to get
out of my apartment. This is a bad sign.
I spent as much of Sunday out of doors and it's still not enough. Apparently when it comes to "hunkering down" I am something of a failure. Sure, I like an afternoon cuddled up in front of the TV as much as the next girl, but I don't like having no other option! According to Mayor Bloomberg (whose attempts as Spanish are pretty much the funniest thing I have ever heard) the shit is going to get real much later today into tomorrow with crazy winds and flooding. Sigh. I wanted to pop outside for a quick walk, but the rain and cold winds have already picked up, and since I don't want anything to fall on me, I'll abstain.
So...how are you guys?
After 30 years of kicking around on Planet Earth I know very few things to be 100% true. The few things that are indisputably fact are food-related and can be summarized as thus:
1. Gummi Bears pair beautifully with a nice rose.
2. Everyone likes at least one type of pie.
3. There is no such thing as an omnivore.
(Awesome Sidenote: Remember back when I wrote about Tabula Rasa...or Clean Slate? I recently had the MOST DELICIOUS wine that was called....Clean Slate. DESTINY! WINE OF DESTINY!)
If you haven't read Michael Pollan's book The Omnivore's Dilemma, I encourage you to put down 50 Flavors of Stupid Nonsense, Hooker and check this out instead. It's a slow start but ultimately a fascinating read. Where does our food come from? Why is corn in EVERYTHING? How does culture influence culinary choices? It's so interesting!
But in the broadest definition of "omnivore," that is, one that eats anything, I have never met a person who didn't have some weird hang-ups or aversions to food. We can't please all of the people all of the time. When I was much younger, I was like a carbo-loading monster. Potatoes, pasta, bread. Every mean could have been a starch and I'd have been happy. It was only with time, and experimentation that I learned that I also liked many vegetables, most fruits, and some poultry. Seafood is not really on the cards. Nor are creamy foods and sauces (it's a texture thing, I can't handle it) or eggs (I've been trying for years to eat eggs and not feel sick afterwards. No dice.)
Here at HQ, my roommate has prepared a bunch of food for the hurricane. I....uh....did not. I picked up a Big Gulp of coffee at 7-11 yesterday, and a footlong sub from Subway. Both of which are dwindling. I've also got some garlic hummus (my favorite!) apples and peanut butter. I think I'll be ok. Starvation is not on the cards in any sense.
Thanks to those who have sent well wishes to the East Coast during this slightly bonkers couple of days. If power goes down....well, them's the breaks, you know? I'll be back when I'm back.
I spent as much of Sunday out of doors and it's still not enough. Apparently when it comes to "hunkering down" I am something of a failure. Sure, I like an afternoon cuddled up in front of the TV as much as the next girl, but I don't like having no other option! According to Mayor Bloomberg (whose attempts as Spanish are pretty much the funniest thing I have ever heard) the shit is going to get real much later today into tomorrow with crazy winds and flooding. Sigh. I wanted to pop outside for a quick walk, but the rain and cold winds have already picked up, and since I don't want anything to fall on me, I'll abstain.
So...how are you guys?
After 30 years of kicking around on Planet Earth I know very few things to be 100% true. The few things that are indisputably fact are food-related and can be summarized as thus:
1. Gummi Bears pair beautifully with a nice rose.
2. Everyone likes at least one type of pie.
3. There is no such thing as an omnivore.
(Awesome Sidenote: Remember back when I wrote about Tabula Rasa...or Clean Slate? I recently had the MOST DELICIOUS wine that was called....Clean Slate. DESTINY! WINE OF DESTINY!)
But in the broadest definition of "omnivore," that is, one that eats anything, I have never met a person who didn't have some weird hang-ups or aversions to food. We can't please all of the people all of the time. When I was much younger, I was like a carbo-loading monster. Potatoes, pasta, bread. Every mean could have been a starch and I'd have been happy. It was only with time, and experimentation that I learned that I also liked many vegetables, most fruits, and some poultry. Seafood is not really on the cards. Nor are creamy foods and sauces (it's a texture thing, I can't handle it) or eggs (I've been trying for years to eat eggs and not feel sick afterwards. No dice.)
Here at HQ, my roommate has prepared a bunch of food for the hurricane. I....uh....did not. I picked up a Big Gulp of coffee at 7-11 yesterday, and a footlong sub from Subway. Both of which are dwindling. I've also got some garlic hummus (my favorite!) apples and peanut butter. I think I'll be ok. Starvation is not on the cards in any sense.
Thanks to those who have sent well wishes to the East Coast during this slightly bonkers couple of days. If power goes down....well, them's the breaks, you know? I'll be back when I'm back.
Friday, October 26, 2012
The Nanny Question
I wasn't planning on publishing twice today (Happy Friday, I guess) but considering that this morning I walked by the scene of a double homicide on the way to work I've got some heavy thoughts.
Last night, very close to my apartment, a nanny allegedly stabbed the two children in her care to death before turning the knife on herself and slitting her throat. She is alive, but in critical condition. My neighborhood is in a state of shock today. In a city where so many children seemed to be raised by "the help" even those of us without kids are floored. How does something like this happen? And what does it mean for those currently working as professional child caregivers? Nannies frequently become like extended family members. It's sad but important to note that terrible crime happens in this city every day. The gruesome murder of two affluent white children isn't more important than any other (pretty much any news story where a kid is murdered feels like a punch in the gut, I think most of us would agree) but I think what's most jarring about this is that these very young children were murdered in their own home by a person entrusted with their lives. The more I read about this family, and what was seemingly a warm and loving relationship with this nanny, the sadder and more confused I get.
When I found out about the crime, I was in the locker room at the boxing gym. Interesting enough, a large number of the women in my class are....nannies. And they, like the woman arrested for the murder, are women of color. As they chatted amongst each other, the initial shock of the story gave way to a new thought...how it will be even more difficult from here on out for them to gain the full trust and support of their white employers. Oftentimes, I think we're not so far out from the 1960s as we'd like to think we are.
I don't think any parent handles the decision of choosing a nanny lightly. How do you interview the person who will be spending the majority of your child's waking hours with them? How will they handle themselves in an emergency? Do they actively engage with the kids, or plunk them down in front of the idiot box?
Parents have been commenting on news stories all morning, declaring they no longer feel comfortable leaving their children with strangers, and will stay with them until they leave for kindergarten. But not everyone has this luxury. For many working parents (including my own) they simply cannot be at home all the time while their kids are young. Brother and I had a nanny while we were very young. Peggy (I use her real name, because she deserves real praise) saved my brother's life in a house fire that happened before I was born. She was selfless bravery incarnate. Her absolute priority was to get him to safety as quickly as possible. I'm getting kind of emotional thinking about it, because there was never enough we could do to thank her. My family owes her everything, and she knew up until her death how much we loved her. That is how my family was with our nanny. We visited Peggy and her husband until we were well into our 20s. It was a bond like that of children with a grandparent, and since we'd lost our biological grandparents quite young, it was just as strong.
I've seen both sides of nanny/parent as an adult too. Friends have nannied with mixed results. At times they are welcomed into the fold and all goes swimmingly. (It is interesting to note that many of these friends are white, English-speaking, and college-educated) They stay with the families for years, and are loved dearly by the children. Other times though, the line of "family" and "assistant" is firmly drawn and rarely crossed. I mean, The Nanny Diaries was a huge hit for a reason. When I worked in retail, a group of nannies came to the shop frequently. They were....God, they were terrible. Frequently screaming into their phones, ignoring the children (more than once, knowingly late to pick them up at school and not giving a fuck) and just focused on pushing the pram for the allotted hours until they got paid and could go home.
I do think that if you are a stay-at-home parent with no job who still hires a nanny so you can fuck off every day with your friends for shopping, yoga and coffee, then you fucking suck and your kids should be handed over to someone who gives a damn about them. That I firmly believe.
This is a hodgepodge of thoughts. I personally don't know anything about being a nanny. (I mean, I did some summer-camp teaching, but those kids were older and hella smart) All I know is that something truly terrible and heart-breaking happened, and every single kid in the world deserves better than that.
Last night, very close to my apartment, a nanny allegedly stabbed the two children in her care to death before turning the knife on herself and slitting her throat. She is alive, but in critical condition. My neighborhood is in a state of shock today. In a city where so many children seemed to be raised by "the help" even those of us without kids are floored. How does something like this happen? And what does it mean for those currently working as professional child caregivers? Nannies frequently become like extended family members. It's sad but important to note that terrible crime happens in this city every day. The gruesome murder of two affluent white children isn't more important than any other (pretty much any news story where a kid is murdered feels like a punch in the gut, I think most of us would agree) but I think what's most jarring about this is that these very young children were murdered in their own home by a person entrusted with their lives. The more I read about this family, and what was seemingly a warm and loving relationship with this nanny, the sadder and more confused I get.
When I found out about the crime, I was in the locker room at the boxing gym. Interesting enough, a large number of the women in my class are....nannies. And they, like the woman arrested for the murder, are women of color. As they chatted amongst each other, the initial shock of the story gave way to a new thought...how it will be even more difficult from here on out for them to gain the full trust and support of their white employers. Oftentimes, I think we're not so far out from the 1960s as we'd like to think we are.
I don't think any parent handles the decision of choosing a nanny lightly. How do you interview the person who will be spending the majority of your child's waking hours with them? How will they handle themselves in an emergency? Do they actively engage with the kids, or plunk them down in front of the idiot box?
Parents have been commenting on news stories all morning, declaring they no longer feel comfortable leaving their children with strangers, and will stay with them until they leave for kindergarten. But not everyone has this luxury. For many working parents (including my own) they simply cannot be at home all the time while their kids are young. Brother and I had a nanny while we were very young. Peggy (I use her real name, because she deserves real praise) saved my brother's life in a house fire that happened before I was born. She was selfless bravery incarnate. Her absolute priority was to get him to safety as quickly as possible. I'm getting kind of emotional thinking about it, because there was never enough we could do to thank her. My family owes her everything, and she knew up until her death how much we loved her. That is how my family was with our nanny. We visited Peggy and her husband until we were well into our 20s. It was a bond like that of children with a grandparent, and since we'd lost our biological grandparents quite young, it was just as strong.
I've seen both sides of nanny/parent as an adult too. Friends have nannied with mixed results. At times they are welcomed into the fold and all goes swimmingly. (It is interesting to note that many of these friends are white, English-speaking, and college-educated) They stay with the families for years, and are loved dearly by the children. Other times though, the line of "family" and "assistant" is firmly drawn and rarely crossed. I mean, The Nanny Diaries was a huge hit for a reason. When I worked in retail, a group of nannies came to the shop frequently. They were....God, they were terrible. Frequently screaming into their phones, ignoring the children (more than once, knowingly late to pick them up at school and not giving a fuck) and just focused on pushing the pram for the allotted hours until they got paid and could go home.
I do think that if you are a stay-at-home parent with no job who still hires a nanny so you can fuck off every day with your friends for shopping, yoga and coffee, then you fucking suck and your kids should be handed over to someone who gives a damn about them. That I firmly believe.
This is a hodgepodge of thoughts. I personally don't know anything about being a nanny. (I mean, I did some summer-camp teaching, but those kids were older and hella smart) All I know is that something truly terrible and heart-breaking happened, and every single kid in the world deserves better than that.
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