THANK GOD IT'S OVER . . .
Election 2006 is finally over, thank the good and merciful Lord. Happy (or unhappy, depending on where you stand) results notwithstanding, has it not just been a miserable year for all of us? I mean, could the advertisements and campaign tactics be ANY worse, ANY lower, ANY meaner, ANY more worthless when it came to actually advertising the candidate?! B and I were shaking our heads over this last night, and we came to the unhappy conclusion that there is to be no "regression" -- no return to clean campaigning, no return to a forum where the issues take precedence, no return to a place lacking mudslinging, no return to an honest fight.
And the worst part of it all? So many campaigns used the President of the United States against their opponents. There was so much hatred, so great a disdain, so little respect for the leader of the free world, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, that to have his name attached to a candidate was to be considered a CURSE. I disagree with Shrub on so many counts, and I am counting down the days to January 29, 2009. But at the end of the day, the man is still my Commander in Chief. He's still the leader of my country. He's still my President. I would still preserve some shred of dignity for him. It's a sad, sad day in a sad, sad nation where no one else feels that way and rather use his name as a talisman against winning.
Deep heavy sigh.
On another note, it's sort of funny watching people's concession and victory speeches. There's always the obligatory glorious nod to the family members and loyal spouse. If the victor is speaking, we also have the obligatory victor-walks-over-to-the-spouse-to-kiss-said-spouse. It's so ... cheesy. And in the case of Eliot Spitzer, it's even worse because he then follows all that up with saying, "Boo-ya!"
Why? Why would you do that?
Well, my conclusory statements on a political season I failed to follow with any sort of deep or committed interest: the next two years should be interesting. Forward march to Clinton/Obama 2008.
Tuesday, November 7
WELCOME TO THE FAMILY . . .
Meet the newest member of the family:
Pipsqueak Baby Mumble Shuffle Cha.
We call him Pip.
He's cute.
Apple is brilliant.
***
NIP IT IN THE BUTT . . .
So I was sitting at Starbucks over the weekend and had a Mabel moment: a 5-year-old boy was playing with his younger brother and some Starbucks stickers. At one point, the little brother became a bit too rowdy with the stickers, so the 5-year-old declared, "He's crazy as an ox!"
The mother's head flipped up: "WHAT?"
"Crazy as an ox. He's crazy as an ox!"
It was all I could do to keep my soy chai latte from leaping out of my mouth onto the table in front of me.
Post-script: When the mother tried to pack up her kids to leave, the 5-year-old declared in protest, "I've only been here a muffin and a half!"
Brilliance is everywhere.
Meet the newest member of the family:
Pipsqueak Baby Mumble Shuffle Cha.
We call him Pip.
He's cute.
Apple is brilliant.
***
NIP IT IN THE BUTT . . .
So I was sitting at Starbucks over the weekend and had a Mabel moment: a 5-year-old boy was playing with his younger brother and some Starbucks stickers. At one point, the little brother became a bit too rowdy with the stickers, so the 5-year-old declared, "He's crazy as an ox!"
The mother's head flipped up: "WHAT?"
"Crazy as an ox. He's crazy as an ox!"
It was all I could do to keep my soy chai latte from leaping out of my mouth onto the table in front of me.
Post-script: When the mother tried to pack up her kids to leave, the 5-year-old declared in protest, "I've only been here a muffin and a half!"
Brilliance is everywhere.
Thursday, November 2
NO ORIGINAL THOUGHT . . .
I love how I complain about people who have no capacity for original thought ... and now find myself in the same exact position. I console myself by telling myself that if I had a little more sleep, or if I had not had that draining conversation the other night, or if I didn't have so much on my plate, I would be physically able to come up with scintillating, intelligent, exciting and unique things to share with whoever wants to share them with me. Who knows, though, if that would actually be the case? For now, I'm settling for quiet evenings of music and mini-camp, repeat episodes of "Without a Trace," and this:
1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Cablevision. Cablevision sucks. It just does. And there's no way that what they're giving me is worth what I'm paying them.
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
I haven't been there yet, but I'm due for a nice garlicky, dimly-lit Italian dinner in a few days. I'll let you know if it lives up to all of the expectations ... but really, it's the company one keeps, isn't it?
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Sophomore year of college. NEVER. AGAIN.
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Never. Please, have some dignity.
5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Gravely. All my classmates called her Mrs. Gravy and I felt so bad for her because she was so, so sweet.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
That which I will be doing at 10:30p tonight.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
The first Korean-American astronaut to take to space ... a pediatrician (thank you, Cheech, for carrying my torch so faithfully) ... a lawyer. Hey, one for three ain't bad.
8. How many colleges did you attend?
One, and sometimes I wish I could do it all over again so I could really get my money's worth.
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
It's grey out today and the world needed a splash of colour.
10. GAS PRICES! First thought?
I'm glad they're dropping, but I'm still going to Jersey for fuel.
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you...
Manhattan, and ... hee. I'm not telling.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
"I wish I was sick so I could call in sick and sleep some more ... oh wait, but then I'd be sick."
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Either "When is this response going to come?" or "I. Love. My. Bed."
14. Favorite style of underwear?
Nobody needs to know what my favorite style of underwear is, lest you think that is also the underwear I wear, and maybe it is, but you still don't need to know.
15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite/same sex?
Boxer briefs.
16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Folding dried laundry.
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?
No.
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Get up early -- there's too much to miss!
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
I have vague memories of those who used to be my favorites from "M.A.S.K." and "G.I. Joe." And of course, what girl did not want to be Jem (Jem is excitement, ooooh Jem, Jem is adventure!)?!
20. Favorite NON-sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Laugh.
21. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
San Francisco.
22. Number of texts in a day?
Zero. I watch people text message, and they all have their mouths hanging open, and their thumbs are cramping up, and you just KNOW that their grammar and punctuation have gone to the dogs. Horrible.
23. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Neither.
24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Does a mozzarella, tomato and basil combination count?
25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
I'm a BJ's girl myself, but I pick pasta, pasta sauce, and paper goods. Booooooring.
26. Beach or lake?
Lake. I'm less likely to get swept out somewhere.
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
No. Don't be ridiculous.
28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?
I think MySpace is evil and refuse to have anything to do with it.
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide ice cream; buying books on Amazon; repeat episodes of "Top Chef."
30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
I have a very low embarrassment threshold so I'm not that ashamed of any of my movie-viewing choices. But people seem to laugh a lot when I say that "The Sound of Music" is my favorite movie of all time.
31. What's your drink?
Soy chai latte (thanks, TinyCricket) and room-temperature water.
32. Cowboys or Indians?
For what?
33. Cops or Robbers?
I don't understand this question.
34. Do you cheer for the bad guy?
In movies, sometimes. In real life, never. But then again, so little is easily penned into black-and-white.
35. What Hollywood star do you think resembles you best?
Name me a Korean-American Hollywood star and there might be your answer. Oh wait, there are none. Riiiight. (Yes, that is an indictment of the Hollywood community, so read as much rage into that as you wish.) However, I have been likened to: Phoebe, from "Friends;" Monica, from "Friends;" Elaine, from "Seinfeld;" and Sarah Jessica Parker. You figure it out because I sure as heck can't.
36. If you had to pick one, which cast member of "Lost" would you be?
Would I BE? Why? So that I too can be stuck on a weird desert island that isn't actually deserted and is frighteningly bizarre and spooky and dangerous? Uh, no. But I would like to be WITH Sawyer. Cheeky grin.
37. What do you want when you are sick?
Orange juice, which I despise when I am healthy. And my mommy.
38. Who from high school would you like to run into?
My Spanish teacher, Sr. McKenney.
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
AM: 880 News. FM: 93.9 NPR.
40. Norm or Cliff?
Didn't watch enough episodes to know the difference.
41. "The Cosby Show" or "The Simpsons?"
Definitely "The Cosby Show." For a long time as a child, I felt that my family was the Korean version of the show.
42. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
2000-2001.
43. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?
I don't know her at all, but she seems nice.
44. If you could get away with it, who would you kill?
Nobody. I just don't think I have it in me. Plus, it's just not right.
45. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Former President Bill Clinton.
46. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
You know, I never got into the whole fantasize-about-a-famous-person-and-wish-to-bed-them thing. I mean, I think that certain male actors are very handsome and I wouldn't mind just spending some time gazing upon them and perhaps smelling their clean fresh man scent. But I just don't get all hot & bothered by famous people. Sometimes, a facial expression or a profile shot or the shirt one is wearing will remind me of someone I know in real life, and I'll wish that real person were next to me so I could snuggle up next to him and smell him, but I have never and don't expect to ever long to be with the famous counterpart. Anyway, that's the long preface to a short answer: no one.
47. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No, neither to extinguish a fire nor to knock an intruder over the head.
48. Last book you read for real?
"Honestly," by Sheila Walsh.
***
RANDOMIZATIONS FROM THE BATHROOM . . .
The bathroom at the office gives out FREE tampons and FREE sanitary napkins! FREE! I just think that's really nice.
***
CHUPACABRA . . .
Apparently, the firm is having some sort of event tonight where the employees will be split up into teams to engage in some sort of friendly competitions. So all afternoon, people up and down the hall have been coming up with team names and engaging in some really funny trash-talking. One team is going to be "The Vaders" (as in Darth Vader); another, evidently, is going to be "Chupacabra" (and just listening to people butcher the word is fun enough).
But hands down, the name that made me laugh out loud in my little cubicle here was this: "e. coli."
"Why?," the name-giver was asked. "Because it's the virus that makes you bleed from the inside out and eventually kills you," she said.
Awesome.
I love how I complain about people who have no capacity for original thought ... and now find myself in the same exact position. I console myself by telling myself that if I had a little more sleep, or if I had not had that draining conversation the other night, or if I didn't have so much on my plate, I would be physically able to come up with scintillating, intelligent, exciting and unique things to share with whoever wants to share them with me. Who knows, though, if that would actually be the case? For now, I'm settling for quiet evenings of music and mini-camp, repeat episodes of "Without a Trace," and this:
1. What bill do you hate paying the most?
Cablevision. Cablevision sucks. It just does. And there's no way that what they're giving me is worth what I'm paying them.
2. What's the best place to eat a romantic dinner?
I haven't been there yet, but I'm due for a nice garlicky, dimly-lit Italian dinner in a few days. I'll let you know if it lives up to all of the expectations ... but really, it's the company one keeps, isn't it?
3. Last time you puked from drinking?
Sophomore year of college. NEVER. AGAIN.
4. When is the last time you got drunk and danced on a bar?
Never. Please, have some dignity.
5. Name of your first grade teacher?
Mrs. Gravely. All my classmates called her Mrs. Gravy and I felt so bad for her because she was so, so sweet.
6. What do you really want to be doing right now?
That which I will be doing at 10:30p tonight.
7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
The first Korean-American astronaut to take to space ... a pediatrician (thank you, Cheech, for carrying my torch so faithfully) ... a lawyer. Hey, one for three ain't bad.
8. How many colleges did you attend?
One, and sometimes I wish I could do it all over again so I could really get my money's worth.
9. Why did you wear the shirt that you have on right now?
It's grey out today and the world needed a splash of colour.
10. GAS PRICES! First thought?
I'm glad they're dropping, but I'm still going to Jersey for fuel.
11. If you could move anywhere and take someone with you...
Manhattan, and ... hee. I'm not telling.
12. First thought when the alarm went off this morning?
"I wish I was sick so I could call in sick and sleep some more ... oh wait, but then I'd be sick."
13. Last thought before going to sleep last night?
Either "When is this response going to come?" or "I. Love. My. Bed."
14. Favorite style of underwear?
Nobody needs to know what my favorite style of underwear is, lest you think that is also the underwear I wear, and maybe it is, but you still don't need to know.
15. Favorite style of underwear for the opposite/same sex?
Boxer briefs.
16. What errand/chore do you despise?
Folding dried laundry.
17. If you didn't have to work, would you volunteer at an art gallery?
No.
18. Get up early or sleep in?
Get up early -- there's too much to miss!
19. What is your favorite cartoon character?
I have vague memories of those who used to be my favorites from "M.A.S.K." and "G.I. Joe." And of course, what girl did not want to be Jem (Jem is excitement, ooooh Jem, Jem is adventure!)?!
20. Favorite NON-sexual thing to do at night with a girl/guy?
Laugh.
21. Somewhere in California you've never been and would like to go?
San Francisco.
22. Number of texts in a day?
Zero. I watch people text message, and they all have their mouths hanging open, and their thumbs are cramping up, and you just KNOW that their grammar and punctuation have gone to the dogs. Horrible.
23. At this point in your life would you rather start a new career or relationship?
Neither.
24. Your favorite lunch meat?
Does a mozzarella, tomato and basil combination count?
25. What do you get every time you go into Costco?
I'm a BJ's girl myself, but I pick pasta, pasta sauce, and paper goods. Booooooring.
26. Beach or lake?
Lake. I'm less likely to get swept out somewhere.
27. Do you think marriage is an outdated ritual that was invented by people who died at 20?
No. Don't be ridiculous.
28. Who do you stalk on MySpace?
I think MySpace is evil and refuse to have anything to do with it.
29. Favorite guilty pleasure?
Ben & Jerry's Dublin Mudslide ice cream; buying books on Amazon; repeat episodes of "Top Chef."
30. Favorite movie you wouldn't want anyone to find out about?
I have a very low embarrassment threshold so I'm not that ashamed of any of my movie-viewing choices. But people seem to laugh a lot when I say that "The Sound of Music" is my favorite movie of all time.
31. What's your drink?
Soy chai latte (thanks, TinyCricket) and room-temperature water.
32. Cowboys or Indians?
For what?
33. Cops or Robbers?
I don't understand this question.
34. Do you cheer for the bad guy?
In movies, sometimes. In real life, never. But then again, so little is easily penned into black-and-white.
35. What Hollywood star do you think resembles you best?
Name me a Korean-American Hollywood star and there might be your answer. Oh wait, there are none. Riiiight. (Yes, that is an indictment of the Hollywood community, so read as much rage into that as you wish.) However, I have been likened to: Phoebe, from "Friends;" Monica, from "Friends;" Elaine, from "Seinfeld;" and Sarah Jessica Parker. You figure it out because I sure as heck can't.
36. If you had to pick one, which cast member of "Lost" would you be?
Would I BE? Why? So that I too can be stuck on a weird desert island that isn't actually deserted and is frighteningly bizarre and spooky and dangerous? Uh, no. But I would like to be WITH Sawyer. Cheeky grin.
37. What do you want when you are sick?
Orange juice, which I despise when I am healthy. And my mommy.
38. Who from high school would you like to run into?
My Spanish teacher, Sr. McKenney.
39. What radio station is your car radio tuned to right now?
AM: 880 News. FM: 93.9 NPR.
40. Norm or Cliff?
Didn't watch enough episodes to know the difference.
41. "The Cosby Show" or "The Simpsons?"
Definitely "The Cosby Show." For a long time as a child, I felt that my family was the Korean version of the show.
42. Worst relationship mistake that you wish you could take back?
2000-2001.
43. Do you like the person who sits directly across from you at work?
I don't know her at all, but she seems nice.
44. If you could get away with it, who would you kill?
Nobody. I just don't think I have it in me. Plus, it's just not right.
45. What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Former President Bill Clinton.
46. What famous person would you like to sleep with?
You know, I never got into the whole fantasize-about-a-famous-person-and-wish-to-bed-them thing. I mean, I think that certain male actors are very handsome and I wouldn't mind just spending some time gazing upon them and perhaps smelling their clean fresh man scent. But I just don't get all hot & bothered by famous people. Sometimes, a facial expression or a profile shot or the shirt one is wearing will remind me of someone I know in real life, and I'll wish that real person were next to me so I could snuggle up next to him and smell him, but I have never and don't expect to ever long to be with the famous counterpart. Anyway, that's the long preface to a short answer: no one.
47. Have you ever had to use a fire extinguisher for its intended purpose?
No, neither to extinguish a fire nor to knock an intruder over the head.
48. Last book you read for real?
"Honestly," by Sheila Walsh.
***
RANDOMIZATIONS FROM THE BATHROOM . . .
The bathroom at the office gives out FREE tampons and FREE sanitary napkins! FREE! I just think that's really nice.
***
CHUPACABRA . . .
Apparently, the firm is having some sort of event tonight where the employees will be split up into teams to engage in some sort of friendly competitions. So all afternoon, people up and down the hall have been coming up with team names and engaging in some really funny trash-talking. One team is going to be "The Vaders" (as in Darth Vader); another, evidently, is going to be "Chupacabra" (and just listening to people butcher the word is fun enough).
But hands down, the name that made me laugh out loud in my little cubicle here was this: "e. coli."
"Why?," the name-giver was asked. "Because it's the virus that makes you bleed from the inside out and eventually kills you," she said.
Awesome.
Tuesday, October 31
IT'S ALL ABOUT ME . . .
It's always gobs of fun when, at 12:01a, someone grabs me by the shoulders, looks me straight in the eye with all the care and feeling he can muster, and says, "Please, can I be the first one to say this year: happy birthday!"
(And then I sort of have to giggle to myself because somebody else already said it a couple of days ago just in case she missed it, but that's alright because it's just different, you know what I mean?)
So, hooray for me! Thanks, Omma and Appa for bringing me here, and thanks, God, for giving me life (and for letting today be a beautiful day, because the rainy ones are nice too, but sometimes a little sun just hits the spot), and thanks, everyone who loves me and cares for me, for making every day seem like a special day.
It's always gobs of fun when, at 12:01a, someone grabs me by the shoulders, looks me straight in the eye with all the care and feeling he can muster, and says, "Please, can I be the first one to say this year: happy birthday!"
(And then I sort of have to giggle to myself because somebody else already said it a couple of days ago just in case she missed it, but that's alright because it's just different, you know what I mean?)
So, hooray for me! Thanks, Omma and Appa for bringing me here, and thanks, God, for giving me life (and for letting today be a beautiful day, because the rainy ones are nice too, but sometimes a little sun just hits the spot), and thanks, everyone who loves me and cares for me, for making every day seem like a special day.
Sunday, October 22
BLIZZARD . . .
Oh my gosh, I am so, so, so tired right now. And this is just the beginning. Just when I think I can put my feet up, I find myself facing a whirlwind season all over again. Do they still make Calgon? And where might it take me?
***
GRUMPOLA . . .
Things that frustrated me today:
1. People who don't know what's missing in their lives, and therefore don't make any effort to fill the void with good and right things.
2. People who think they know everything about something, and assume that others ascribe to the same philosophy ... without asking to see if they're just taking up space.
3. The slow progression of things, which seems to either (a) just make me crazy, and/or (b) just lay the groundwork for future confusion and muck.
4. Folks who know exactly what's wrong with themselves, but make no discernible effort to change.
5. Food boredom. My refrigerator is stocked but I can't seem to find a single thing to eat. I feel horrible that in the face of all the people starving and malnutritioned in this world, I have the wicked gall to be bored with the contents of my fridge.
6. The fact that some wonderful and significant and true things were spoken ... and the people I wish would hear it weren't around to hear it.
7. My constant nasal congestion -- it forces me to become the dreaded Mouth Breather.
8. Those who are alleged to have a good heart and right intentions, but just end up expressing themselves harshly, meanly, critically, judgmentally, and selfishly.
***
NOT GRUMPOLA . . .
But of course, that was only half the day. There are also things that made me joyful today:
1. Sitting with a brother.
2. Receiving gobs of God's goodness from The Boy Band.
3. Productivity.
4. Hearing hearty laughter after an embarrassing moment. It's good to be around people who can healthily laugh at themselves. Send me a postcard; tell me about your trip, won't you?
5. A wide awake Pork Bun chugging formula in my arms, then nuzzling himself to sleep on my shoulder.
6. My warm worm.
7. Inside jokes brought into the open. Makes the secret less burdensome.
8. The prospect of a good night's rest, covered by grace and a heavy Korean faux-mink blanket.
Oh my gosh, I am so, so, so tired right now. And this is just the beginning. Just when I think I can put my feet up, I find myself facing a whirlwind season all over again. Do they still make Calgon? And where might it take me?
***
GRUMPOLA . . .
Things that frustrated me today:
1. People who don't know what's missing in their lives, and therefore don't make any effort to fill the void with good and right things.
2. People who think they know everything about something, and assume that others ascribe to the same philosophy ... without asking to see if they're just taking up space.
3. The slow progression of things, which seems to either (a) just make me crazy, and/or (b) just lay the groundwork for future confusion and muck.
4. Folks who know exactly what's wrong with themselves, but make no discernible effort to change.
5. Food boredom. My refrigerator is stocked but I can't seem to find a single thing to eat. I feel horrible that in the face of all the people starving and malnutritioned in this world, I have the wicked gall to be bored with the contents of my fridge.
6. The fact that some wonderful and significant and true things were spoken ... and the people I wish would hear it weren't around to hear it.
7. My constant nasal congestion -- it forces me to become the dreaded Mouth Breather.
8. Those who are alleged to have a good heart and right intentions, but just end up expressing themselves harshly, meanly, critically, judgmentally, and selfishly.
***
NOT GRUMPOLA . . .
But of course, that was only half the day. There are also things that made me joyful today:
1. Sitting with a brother.
2. Receiving gobs of God's goodness from The Boy Band.
3. Productivity.
4. Hearing hearty laughter after an embarrassing moment. It's good to be around people who can healthily laugh at themselves. Send me a postcard; tell me about your trip, won't you?
5. A wide awake Pork Bun chugging formula in my arms, then nuzzling himself to sleep on my shoulder.
6. My warm worm.
7. Inside jokes brought into the open. Makes the secret less burdensome.
8. The prospect of a good night's rest, covered by grace and a heavy Korean faux-mink blanket.
Friday, October 20
HEARD OVER THE CUBICLE WALL . . .
1. A woman whose voice sounds exactly like Laura from the most recent season of "Project Runway." Every time she talks, I wig out.
2. "... I live in NEW YORK, you dumbass ..."
3. "... Jack Bauer ..."
4. "... genital warts ..."
5. "... no, you hang up. No, YOU. No, I love YOU. No, YOU hang up ..."
6. "... what should I get me for my birthday? ..."
***
IT'S NOT JUST ME . . .
I was at Starbucks today picking up my latest addiction, the Soy Chai Latte. The lady in front of me clarified her order to the new cashier who had not heard her correctly the first time around. He had to recalculate, using his brain and not the cash register. And so while the lady in front of me stood waiting with her palm held out for the additional change due to her, the new cashier stood facing her, not saying a word. His mouth hung open. He stared without blinking at the cash register. His arms hung slack at his sides. Seconds, nay minutes? ticked by.
And isn't it terrible that all I could think was, "Look, he can't do math either."
***
SLUMBER PARTY . . .
I'm sleeping over in Canada tonight, hanging with the G-Units so Dr.G can give me a flu shot in the morning. Is that not the most efficient way to obtain a flu shot? To drive 40 minutes north of one's home, spend the night at a friend's home, sleep in in the morning, then drive even more north to Dr.G's office? Eh, whatever. It's fun here in Canada. (And of course I'm going to hear it from Mrs.G that I brought my laptop and am lying in her guest bedroom using her free wireless access. Nerd.)
1. A woman whose voice sounds exactly like Laura from the most recent season of "Project Runway." Every time she talks, I wig out.
2. "... I live in NEW YORK, you dumbass ..."
3. "... Jack Bauer ..."
4. "... genital warts ..."
5. "... no, you hang up. No, YOU. No, I love YOU. No, YOU hang up ..."
6. "... what should I get me for my birthday? ..."
***
IT'S NOT JUST ME . . .
I was at Starbucks today picking up my latest addiction, the Soy Chai Latte. The lady in front of me clarified her order to the new cashier who had not heard her correctly the first time around. He had to recalculate, using his brain and not the cash register. And so while the lady in front of me stood waiting with her palm held out for the additional change due to her, the new cashier stood facing her, not saying a word. His mouth hung open. He stared without blinking at the cash register. His arms hung slack at his sides. Seconds, nay minutes? ticked by.
And isn't it terrible that all I could think was, "Look, he can't do math either."
***
SLUMBER PARTY . . .
I'm sleeping over in Canada tonight, hanging with the G-Units so Dr.G can give me a flu shot in the morning. Is that not the most efficient way to obtain a flu shot? To drive 40 minutes north of one's home, spend the night at a friend's home, sleep in in the morning, then drive even more north to Dr.G's office? Eh, whatever. It's fun here in Canada. (And of course I'm going to hear it from Mrs.G that I brought my laptop and am lying in her guest bedroom using her free wireless access. Nerd.)
Thursday, October 19
SILLY . . .
Two quick things that crack me up:
1. I'm now the girl who wears a comfortable pair of shoes TO work, then changes into nice dress shoes AT work. Granted, I have not yet become the white-tube-sock-and-white-high-tops-wearing lady, but when I peel off my socks and boots to slip into some pointy high-heel pumps, I can't help but feel a little bit frumpy.
2. I have limited exposure to Sascha Baron Cohen as Ali G, but I thoroughly enjoyed him as King Julian in "Madagascar." Now, he's apparently bringing another one of his characters to life on the big screen. The title of this soon-to-be masterpiece? "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan." That is so awesome.
***
NOT SILLY . . .
Barack Obama is everywhere in the news lately, and I for one don't mind that much. I'm not usually one for hero-worship of people I don't actually know, and politicians are usually last on my list (unfortunately, because I think there was a time and a place in this country's history when politicians WERE worthy of some degree of worship from the populace ... you know, back when public servants actually served the people ... although that statement in and of itself sounds so naive too ...). But Obama seems like the real deal. (Even as I say that, I feel a twinge in my stomach, as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the skeletons in his closet to come tumbling out, and I hate that I have become that cynical.) He intrigues me, so I picked up the latest issue of Time Magazine, which has his head big and front and center on the cover. The magazine excerpts his latest book, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream, and I excerpt the excerpt here. I apologize for the length of my excerpting ... some of it was too good to put aside ... another book to add to my growing pile of To Read's ...
Two quick things that crack me up:
1. I'm now the girl who wears a comfortable pair of shoes TO work, then changes into nice dress shoes AT work. Granted, I have not yet become the white-tube-sock-and-white-high-tops-wearing lady, but when I peel off my socks and boots to slip into some pointy high-heel pumps, I can't help but feel a little bit frumpy.
2. I have limited exposure to Sascha Baron Cohen as Ali G, but I thoroughly enjoyed him as King Julian in "Madagascar." Now, he's apparently bringing another one of his characters to life on the big screen. The title of this soon-to-be masterpiece? "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan." That is so awesome.
***
NOT SILLY . . .
Barack Obama is everywhere in the news lately, and I for one don't mind that much. I'm not usually one for hero-worship of people I don't actually know, and politicians are usually last on my list (unfortunately, because I think there was a time and a place in this country's history when politicians WERE worthy of some degree of worship from the populace ... you know, back when public servants actually served the people ... although that statement in and of itself sounds so naive too ...). But Obama seems like the real deal. (Even as I say that, I feel a twinge in my stomach, as if I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the skeletons in his closet to come tumbling out, and I hate that I have become that cynical.) He intrigues me, so I picked up the latest issue of Time Magazine, which has his head big and front and center on the cover. The magazine excerpts his latest book, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream, and I excerpt the excerpt here. I apologize for the length of my excerpting ... some of it was too good to put aside ... another book to add to my growing pile of To Read's ...
- ... also points to a hunger for the product they are selling, a hunger that goes beyond any particular issue or cause. Each day, it seems, thousands of Americans are going about their daily rounds--dropping off the kids at school, driving to the office, flying to a business meeting, shopping at the mall, trying to stay on their diets--and coming to the realization that something is missing. They are deciding that their work, their possessions, their diversions, their sheer busyness are not enough. They want a sense of purpose, a narrative arc to their lives, something that will relieve a chronic loneliness or lift them above the exhausting, relentless toll of daily life. They need an assurance that somebody out there cares about them, is listening to them--that they are not just destined to travel down a long highway toward nothingness.
Out of necessity, the black church had to minister to the whole person. Out of necessity, the black church rarely had the luxury of separating individual salvation from collective salvation. It had to serve as the center of the community's political, economic, and social as well as spiritual life; it understood in an intimate way the biblical call to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and challenge powers and principalities. In the history of these struggles, I was able to see faith as more than just a comfort to the weary or a hedge against death; rather, it was an active, palpable agent in the world.
And perhaps it was out of this intimate knowledge of hardship, the grounding of faith in struggle, that the historically black church offered me a second insight: that faith doesn't mean that you don't have doubts, or that you relinquish your hold on this world. Long before it became fashionable among television evangelists, the typical black sermon freely acknowledged that all Christians (including the pastors) could expect to still experience the same greed, resentment, lust, and anger that everyone else experienced. The gospel songs, the happy feet, and the tears and shouts all spoke of a release, an acknowledgment, and finally a channeling of those emotions. In the black community, the lines between sinner and saved were more fluid; the sins of those who came to church were not so different from the sins of those who didn't, and so were as likely to be talked about with humor as with condemnation. You needed to come to church precisely because you were of this world, not apart from it; rich, poor, sinner, saved, you needed to embrace Christ precisely because you had sins to wash away--because you were human and needed an ally in your difficult journey, to make the peaks and valleys smooth and render all those crooked paths straight. It was because of these newfound understandings--that religious commitment did not require me to suspend critical thinking, disengage from the battle for economic and social justice, or otherwise retreat from the world that I knew and loved--that I was finally able to walk down the aisle of Trinity United Church of Christ one day and be baptized.
When we abandon the field of religious discourse--when we ignore the debate about what it means to be a good Christian or Muslim or Jew; when we discuss religion only in the negative sense of where or how it should not be practiced, rather than in the positive sense of what it tells us about our obligations toward one another; when we shy away from religious venues and religious broadcasts because we assume that we will be unwelcome--others will fill the vacuum. And those who do are likely to be those with the most insular views of faith, or who cynically use religion to justify partisan ends.
Of course organized religion doesn't have a monopoly on virtue, and one not need be religious to make moral claims or appeal to a common good. But we should not avoid making such claims or appeals--or abandon any reference to our rich religious traditions--in order to avoid giving offense. Our failure as progressives to tap into the moral underpinnings of the nation is not just rhetorical, though. Our fear of getting "preachy" may also lead us to discount the role that values and culture play in addressing some of our most urgent social problems. After all, the problems of poverty and racism, the uninsured and the unemployed, are not simply technical problems in search of the perfect 10-point plan. They are also rooted in societal indifference and individual callousness--the desire among those at the top of the social ladder to maintain their wealth and status whatever the cost, as well as the despair and self-destructiveness among those at the bottom.
Friday, October 13
NEWBIE . . .
Welcome, Pork Bun! 19" long, 6lbs., 4oz. at birth. NOT wrinkly and shriveled, Mabel says. We'll see ... and of course, I consider it the greatest joke on all of us that the one of us who has the lowest tolerance for pain is the one who births without an epidural. Very funny, God, veeeeery funny.
***
PEACE THAT LASTS . . .
The 2006 Nobel Prize for Peace was awarded to Muhammad Yunus and the bank he founded, Grameen Bank of Bangladesh. This man and his bank loaned small, even tiny, amounts of money to people -- mostly women -- so that they could start or sustain a small business. His bank funded people that larger banks would deem uncreditworthy, poor risks ... and proved that MICROCREDIT WORKS. And, as the Nobel Committee rightly noted, "attacking poverty is essential to peace, and that private enterprise is essential to attacking poverty." The possibilities are endless, and this man's successful model is admirable and so, so hopeful.
***
HEE-HAW . . .
On a completely different note, it cracks me up that when I use the handicap stall in the women's bathroom here at work (only when I have to! I commit a lot of social blunders, but willfully taking handicap parking spots and using handicap bathroom stalls is not one of them!) ... my feet don't reach the ground. So there I sit, my feet swinging happily back and forth, back and forth. Makes me feel like a child again, and these days, that's not such a bad thing ...
***
UNDERSTANDING . . .
Sometimes, I have a hard time understanding things that other people seem to understand just fine. Or I find myself embroiled in some major misunderstanding about something that could and should have been very easily understood. And I guess it's just natural that these things happen most with the people I am closest to -- there is a sort of danger and complacency of closeness and intimacy, and when we start assuming things about each other, the poo hits the fan. Which is so ironic, because we both also relish not having to explain everything, and not having to say everything out loud. There is pleasure in knowing one can step away from the table because the other will know what you want to order to eat ... in completing each other's sentences, or merely ending phrases with, "you know, right?" and knowing that the other does indeed know ... in trusting that quiet and silence does not mean anger or trouble-brewing, but just means thoughtfulness, whether in turmoil or in peace. Unfortunately, base human nature and insecurity infiltrates now and then anyway, and this pleasure is tained. There is grace, still, in seeing what "progress" really is: quicker reconciliation, an adjustment to assumptions that are right and good, and a willingness to move on, not in denial but in utter acceptance.
***
BACKWARDS . . .
Sometimes, when I get no sleep, I function much better the next day than if I had gotten a solid six or seven hours of sleep. Huh. Maybe it's the happy hormones.
***
REPRESENT . . .
Rock on, my man.
Welcome, Pork Bun! 19" long, 6lbs., 4oz. at birth. NOT wrinkly and shriveled, Mabel says. We'll see ... and of course, I consider it the greatest joke on all of us that the one of us who has the lowest tolerance for pain is the one who births without an epidural. Very funny, God, veeeeery funny.
***
PEACE THAT LASTS . . .
The 2006 Nobel Prize for Peace was awarded to Muhammad Yunus and the bank he founded, Grameen Bank of Bangladesh. This man and his bank loaned small, even tiny, amounts of money to people -- mostly women -- so that they could start or sustain a small business. His bank funded people that larger banks would deem uncreditworthy, poor risks ... and proved that MICROCREDIT WORKS. And, as the Nobel Committee rightly noted, "attacking poverty is essential to peace, and that private enterprise is essential to attacking poverty." The possibilities are endless, and this man's successful model is admirable and so, so hopeful.
***
HEE-HAW . . .
On a completely different note, it cracks me up that when I use the handicap stall in the women's bathroom here at work (only when I have to! I commit a lot of social blunders, but willfully taking handicap parking spots and using handicap bathroom stalls is not one of them!) ... my feet don't reach the ground. So there I sit, my feet swinging happily back and forth, back and forth. Makes me feel like a child again, and these days, that's not such a bad thing ...
***
UNDERSTANDING . . .
Sometimes, I have a hard time understanding things that other people seem to understand just fine. Or I find myself embroiled in some major misunderstanding about something that could and should have been very easily understood. And I guess it's just natural that these things happen most with the people I am closest to -- there is a sort of danger and complacency of closeness and intimacy, and when we start assuming things about each other, the poo hits the fan. Which is so ironic, because we both also relish not having to explain everything, and not having to say everything out loud. There is pleasure in knowing one can step away from the table because the other will know what you want to order to eat ... in completing each other's sentences, or merely ending phrases with, "you know, right?" and knowing that the other does indeed know ... in trusting that quiet and silence does not mean anger or trouble-brewing, but just means thoughtfulness, whether in turmoil or in peace. Unfortunately, base human nature and insecurity infiltrates now and then anyway, and this pleasure is tained. There is grace, still, in seeing what "progress" really is: quicker reconciliation, an adjustment to assumptions that are right and good, and a willingness to move on, not in denial but in utter acceptance.
***
BACKWARDS . . .
Sometimes, when I get no sleep, I function much better the next day than if I had gotten a solid six or seven hours of sleep. Huh. Maybe it's the happy hormones.
***
REPRESENT . . .
Rock on, my man.
Thursday, October 12
IT'S A PLANE . . .
Cory Lidle, a Yankees pitcher, flew his private plane into an Upper East Side apartment building the other day, killing himself and his flight instructor (it's unclear who was actually flying the plane; I use "flew" loosely). So sad and scary. Was there a New Yorker yesterday whose hands did not shake with at least a small tremor, for at least a short while? Sad and scary, sad and scary, sad and scary. If this is our life, the terrorists are winners.
***
JUST A THEORY . . .
I have no basis upon which to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway: e.coli and botulism in our salad greens and vegetable juices = terrorist infiltration?
Sure, nuclear missiles and blowing up buildings are grand and horrific gestures ... but poisoning our food is certainly more insidious. Americans, we like to eat. And when our food is messed with, we freak out. And if there are people out there who relish watching Americans freak out, this would be the route to go. Sad and scary, sad and scary.
Still, I sure do miss spinach. I must have eaten spinach five out of seven days, in various forms, prior to the e.coli alerts. No other dark leafy green compares (and everything else makes my pee smell strange).
***
FRIDAY THE 13TH . . .
Mabel is about to deliver her son ... potentially named Jason ... probably on Friday the 13th, if the Pitocin works as planned. Not sad, but still scary!
My knitting schedule has been suddenly bumped up by about nine days. I'll be awash in wool and angora tonight.
Keeping my heart's fingers crossed and my palms together in prayer ...
Cory Lidle, a Yankees pitcher, flew his private plane into an Upper East Side apartment building the other day, killing himself and his flight instructor (it's unclear who was actually flying the plane; I use "flew" loosely). So sad and scary. Was there a New Yorker yesterday whose hands did not shake with at least a small tremor, for at least a short while? Sad and scary, sad and scary, sad and scary. If this is our life, the terrorists are winners.
***
JUST A THEORY . . .
I have no basis upon which to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway: e.coli and botulism in our salad greens and vegetable juices = terrorist infiltration?
Sure, nuclear missiles and blowing up buildings are grand and horrific gestures ... but poisoning our food is certainly more insidious. Americans, we like to eat. And when our food is messed with, we freak out. And if there are people out there who relish watching Americans freak out, this would be the route to go. Sad and scary, sad and scary.
Still, I sure do miss spinach. I must have eaten spinach five out of seven days, in various forms, prior to the e.coli alerts. No other dark leafy green compares (and everything else makes my pee smell strange).
***
FRIDAY THE 13TH . . .
Mabel is about to deliver her son ... potentially named Jason ... probably on Friday the 13th, if the Pitocin works as planned. Not sad, but still scary!
My knitting schedule has been suddenly bumped up by about nine days. I'll be awash in wool and angora tonight.
Keeping my heart's fingers crossed and my palms together in prayer ...
Friday, October 6
BRRRR . . .
It's cold. I turned on the heat in the car for the first time this autumn season today. It was delicious.
***
AUTUMN . . .
We spent over an hour researching the etymology of the word "autumn." Didn't find out much, except that it comes from the Latin "autmnus." That's it. Just "autumnus." Etymology blows my mind -- it is bizarre to think of language and words and where it all came from ... and the fact that "autumn" seems not to mean anything.
***
BOOKISH . . .
In the Korean tradition, on a baby's first birthday, the family throws THE. MOST. ENORMOUS. FEAST. Bigger even than a traditional Korean wedding ceremony, no joke! And at the end of the party, right before the Korean dduk (rice cake) is cut and passed around, the parents of the baby set out on a low table a whole bunch of things: a bowl of rice, a strand of yarn, a pencil, a book, some money. Each item has a fortune-telling type significance: prosperity, long life, good grades, an intellectual life, wealth.
Me, I picked up a book, and that has dictated the course of my life in all ways. No, I am NOT an intellectual in ANY sense; I don't think an overactive imagination renders me "intellectual," although I have been called "thoughtful," but I think those people think I'm thinking logical and meaningful thoughts. But I have loved books, sometimes more than I have loved real life or loved real people ... and so this meme speaks to me so deeply. Thanks, TinyCricket.
1. Book that changed my life: The Holy Bible, obviously ... and not-so-obviously, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, by Rebecca Wells. The Holy Bible taught and continues to teach me about life and truth; Divine Secrets taught and continues to teach me about the truthful things in life, like friendship, sisterhood, family, tradition, fun, healing, and ridiculous snot-blowing laughter.
2. Book that you've read more than once: Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. I read it faster and faster each time I go through it because I know entire passages and conversations by heart now. But it has yet to stop speaking new things to me.
3. Book you'd want on a deserted island: The Holy Bible. Is it not the food I eat?
4. Book that made you laugh: A Girl Named Zippy, by Haven Kimmel. The anecdotes ... I actually spit out food at a few of the humorous surprises.
5. Book that made you cry: The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I recently finished it, and was in the company of a friend who became suddenly alarmed that all of a sudden, in the middle of Starbucks, after a wonderful dinner and coffee and chat session, I was weeping hysterically. It took five minutes to convince him I was alright ... but how can one be alright after reading a book like this? Weighty, true, piercing, awful, uplifting, desperate, reminiscent, revealing. Ouch.
6. Book that you wish you had written: The Namesake. He, Indian. Me, Korean. We coud've been the same person.
7. Book you don't enjoy: I really, really, really did not like The Corrections, by Jonathan Franzen. I made myself read it and read it and read it. I finally got to the last nine pages of the monstrous monstrosity ... and then I closed the book and put it down. I just could not finish it. Not even the last nine pages. I just couldn't. I am still so annoyed that I gave in to the hype and bought the damn thing.
8. Book you are currently reading: The Memory Keeper's Daughter, by Kim Edwards. Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance, by Noam Chomsky is up next, probably tomorrow.
9. Book you've been meaning to read: The World is Flat, by Thomas Friedman. But rats, someone just borrowed it, and I didn't have the backbone to say "NO I HAVEN'T READ IT YET!!!!!" I just asked her to write my name in it, and am currently praying that it finds its way back to me somehow ...
10. Book you remember as a real page-turner: The Alienist, by Caleb Carr. I picked it up, along with a bunch of friends, in the middle of my senior year of college. I stayed up late every night until I finished it, partly because I wanted to find out what happened in the next chapter, but mostly because I was too scared to turn off the light and go to sleep. If the L.O.L.'s will recall, I believe I refused to read it with the door closed, and even slept one night with the door open, so people could hear if I was being brutally murdered in my dorm room.
11. Non-fiction books you've enjoyed: "The Tipping Point," by Malcolm Gladwell; "John Adams," by David McCullough; "Soul Survivor," by Philip Yancey; "Truman," by David McCullough; "The Holy Bible."
12. Children's books your family has loved: Well, my family enjoyed Korean folk tales, and I still have the huge glossy picture books to prove it. I can't wait for children of my own so I can read these books to them, too. But as for English-language books ... the first NICE books my parents bought me were the Little House on the Prairie books, by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I got the whole set of them in a huge box, all at once, at a book fair at my elementary school; it was a splurge for my parents at the time, because we were kind of po'. I still treasure them, and judging from how my parents never ask me to clean them off of my shelf or throw them out or give them away, I believe they do too.
It's cold. I turned on the heat in the car for the first time this autumn season today. It was delicious.
***
AUTUMN . . .
We spent over an hour researching the etymology of the word "autumn." Didn't find out much, except that it comes from the Latin "autmnus." That's it. Just "autumnus." Etymology blows my mind -- it is bizarre to think of language and words and where it all came from ... and the fact that "autumn" seems not to mean anything.
***
BOOKISH . . .
In the Korean tradition, on a baby's first birthday, the family throws THE. MOST. ENORMOUS. FEAST. Bigger even than a traditional Korean wedding ceremony, no joke! And at the end of the party, right before the Korean dduk (rice cake) is cut and passed around, the parents of the baby set out on a low table a whole bunch of things: a bowl of rice, a strand of yarn, a pencil, a book, some money. Each item has a fortune-telling type significance: prosperity, long life, good grades, an intellectual life, wealth.
Me, I picked up a book, and that has dictated the course of my life in all ways. No, I am NOT an intellectual in ANY sense; I don't think an overactive imagination renders me "intellectual," although I have been called "thoughtful," but I think those people think I'm thinking logical and meaningful thoughts. But I have loved books, sometimes more than I have loved real life or loved real people ... and so this meme speaks to me so deeply. Thanks, TinyCricket.
1. Book that changed my life: The Holy Bible, obviously ... and not-so-obviously, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, by Rebecca Wells. The Holy Bible taught and continues to teach me about life and truth; Divine Secrets taught and continues to teach me about the truthful things in life, like friendship, sisterhood, family, tradition, fun, healing, and ridiculous snot-blowing laughter.
2. Book that you've read more than once: Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. I read it faster and faster each time I go through it because I know entire passages and conversations by heart now. But it has yet to stop speaking new things to me.
3. Book you'd want on a deserted island: The Holy Bible. Is it not the food I eat?
4. Book that made you laugh: A Girl Named Zippy, by Haven Kimmel. The anecdotes ... I actually spit out food at a few of the humorous surprises.
5. Book that made you cry: The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. I recently finished it, and was in the company of a friend who became suddenly alarmed that all of a sudden, in the middle of Starbucks, after a wonderful dinner and coffee and chat session, I was weeping hysterically. It took five minutes to convince him I was alright ... but how can one be alright after reading a book like this? Weighty, true, piercing, awful, uplifting, desperate, reminiscent, revealing. Ouch.
6. Book that you wish you had written: The Namesake. He, Indian. Me, Korean. We coud've been the same person.
7. Book you don't enjoy: I really, really, really did not like The Corrections, by Jonathan Franzen. I made myself read it and read it and read it. I finally got to the last nine pages of the monstrous monstrosity ... and then I closed the book and put it down. I just could not finish it. Not even the last nine pages. I just couldn't. I am still so annoyed that I gave in to the hype and bought the damn thing.
8. Book you are currently reading: The Memory Keeper's Daughter, by Kim Edwards. Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance, by Noam Chomsky is up next, probably tomorrow.
9. Book you've been meaning to read: The World is Flat, by Thomas Friedman. But rats, someone just borrowed it, and I didn't have the backbone to say "NO I HAVEN'T READ IT YET!!!!!" I just asked her to write my name in it, and am currently praying that it finds its way back to me somehow ...
10. Book you remember as a real page-turner: The Alienist, by Caleb Carr. I picked it up, along with a bunch of friends, in the middle of my senior year of college. I stayed up late every night until I finished it, partly because I wanted to find out what happened in the next chapter, but mostly because I was too scared to turn off the light and go to sleep. If the L.O.L.'s will recall, I believe I refused to read it with the door closed, and even slept one night with the door open, so people could hear if I was being brutally murdered in my dorm room.
11. Non-fiction books you've enjoyed: "The Tipping Point," by Malcolm Gladwell; "John Adams," by David McCullough; "Soul Survivor," by Philip Yancey; "Truman," by David McCullough; "The Holy Bible."
12. Children's books your family has loved: Well, my family enjoyed Korean folk tales, and I still have the huge glossy picture books to prove it. I can't wait for children of my own so I can read these books to them, too. But as for English-language books ... the first NICE books my parents bought me were the Little House on the Prairie books, by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I got the whole set of them in a huge box, all at once, at a book fair at my elementary school; it was a splurge for my parents at the time, because we were kind of po'. I still treasure them, and judging from how my parents never ask me to clean them off of my shelf or throw them out or give them away, I believe they do too.
Wednesday, October 4
I COMMUTE . .
I don't know why this is so exciting to me, but it is ... at least for now. It's only Day Two, after all. It's also exciting to me that I'm a CONSULTANT. After years and years of not knowing what the heck my consultant friends do, I consider it the ultimate irony that I have joined their ranks. As best as I can tell, consultants help people. Corporate people doing corporate things, but still people. So, go me.
And so, I'm helping a friend and her team at her office, deep within corporate America. They have rules and stuff about confidentiality, and it would just be awfully embarrassing for my friend if I were fired for indiscretion ... so I speak obliquely. Suffice to say, knowing that my consulting term is short-term and has an end in sight, I am LOVING corporate America. Well ... allow me to clarify: I love corporate America's unlimited free coffee, free Poland Spring water, free Coca-Cola beverages and free juice in several varieties. (There's also Yoo-Hoo in the huge corporate sub-zero refrigerator, but I don't touch the stuff, so it's irrelevant to me.) I love corporate America's provision of utensils and napkins, microwave ovens, office supplies and first-aid products. And most of all, I love corporate America's proximity to Grand Central Station, which gets me door to door -- walking and train-ing -- in less than one hour. LESS THAN ONE HOUR. It's just fantastic.
I'm still looking for The Perfect Public Service Position, don't get me wrong. But not before I give myself an ulcer from all this free coffee ...
***
BROODING . . .
People are unhappy. If there's anything you notice while sitting on the commuter train in and out of New York City, it's that people are unhappy. Some are sour, others are angry, a few are severely depressed; but they are all unhappy.
It makes me pray even harder. For them, and for me, because I'm not happy all the time either, but I have joy, and yes, my friends, there is a difference. And it would just be the cat's meow if everyone could know this Joy.
(There are also some downright straaaaaange folks out there too. I'm torn: do I catch a nap or people-watch?)
***
FOUND . . .
"Lost" is back tonight. THANK. THE. LORD.
Actually, by all accounts, this fall season is looking pretty good for new shows. I don't have the time or the attention span to check them out on the television ... which is why I also thank God for iTunes. No commercials, my friends, no commercials.
The thing is, though ... all the new dramas seem to be imitating "Lost." So ... I might just watch "Lost" only, because you just can't beat an original.
***
AMERICA'S MAYOR . . .
C and MJ went to Game 1 last night (my goodness, where did the summer go?!) and HUNG OUT WITH MAYOR GIULIANI!!!!!
So envious am I. Now THERE'S a Republican I could vote for. Plus, his lisp is just too endearing.
Rudy took a picture with MJ ... and JUDI NATHAN. I told C he should've asked Judi to take the picture instead.
***
OH, ONE LAST THING . . .
I've become one of those women. You know, they who wear one pair of shoes to work, and another pair of shoes AT work. I haven't yet pulled on the white tube socks with sneakers ... but who knows what I'll look like once cold and inclement weather sets in ...
I don't know why this is so exciting to me, but it is ... at least for now. It's only Day Two, after all. It's also exciting to me that I'm a CONSULTANT. After years and years of not knowing what the heck my consultant friends do, I consider it the ultimate irony that I have joined their ranks. As best as I can tell, consultants help people. Corporate people doing corporate things, but still people. So, go me.
And so, I'm helping a friend and her team at her office, deep within corporate America. They have rules and stuff about confidentiality, and it would just be awfully embarrassing for my friend if I were fired for indiscretion ... so I speak obliquely. Suffice to say, knowing that my consulting term is short-term and has an end in sight, I am LOVING corporate America. Well ... allow me to clarify: I love corporate America's unlimited free coffee, free Poland Spring water, free Coca-Cola beverages and free juice in several varieties. (There's also Yoo-Hoo in the huge corporate sub-zero refrigerator, but I don't touch the stuff, so it's irrelevant to me.) I love corporate America's provision of utensils and napkins, microwave ovens, office supplies and first-aid products. And most of all, I love corporate America's proximity to Grand Central Station, which gets me door to door -- walking and train-ing -- in less than one hour. LESS THAN ONE HOUR. It's just fantastic.
I'm still looking for The Perfect Public Service Position, don't get me wrong. But not before I give myself an ulcer from all this free coffee ...
***
BROODING . . .
People are unhappy. If there's anything you notice while sitting on the commuter train in and out of New York City, it's that people are unhappy. Some are sour, others are angry, a few are severely depressed; but they are all unhappy.
It makes me pray even harder. For them, and for me, because I'm not happy all the time either, but I have joy, and yes, my friends, there is a difference. And it would just be the cat's meow if everyone could know this Joy.
(There are also some downright straaaaaange folks out there too. I'm torn: do I catch a nap or people-watch?)
***
FOUND . . .
"Lost" is back tonight. THANK. THE. LORD.
Actually, by all accounts, this fall season is looking pretty good for new shows. I don't have the time or the attention span to check them out on the television ... which is why I also thank God for iTunes. No commercials, my friends, no commercials.
The thing is, though ... all the new dramas seem to be imitating "Lost." So ... I might just watch "Lost" only, because you just can't beat an original.
***
AMERICA'S MAYOR . . .
C and MJ went to Game 1 last night (my goodness, where did the summer go?!) and HUNG OUT WITH MAYOR GIULIANI!!!!!
So envious am I. Now THERE'S a Republican I could vote for. Plus, his lisp is just too endearing.
Rudy took a picture with MJ ... and JUDI NATHAN. I told C he should've asked Judi to take the picture instead.
***
OH, ONE LAST THING . . .
I've become one of those women. You know, they who wear one pair of shoes to work, and another pair of shoes AT work. I haven't yet pulled on the white tube socks with sneakers ... but who knows what I'll look like once cold and inclement weather sets in ...
Sunday, September 24
STATING THE OBVIOUS . . .
From today's New York Times: "A stark assessment has found that the American invasion and occupation of Iraq has helped spawn a new generation of Islamic radicalism and that the overall terrorist threat has grown since the Sept. 11 attacks."
No duh.
From today's New York Times: "A stark assessment has found that the American invasion and occupation of Iraq has helped spawn a new generation of Islamic radicalism and that the overall terrorist threat has grown since the Sept. 11 attacks."
No duh.
Friday, September 8
SNIFFLE . . .
(Been without Bob for far too long now. It's all for the best -- he's getting new guts and new brains, which will simply make him live longer, and that's all I want, because he's just the best little PowerBook G4 ever made, he really is. And I've been managing -- scrounging about and appealing to the mercy of my parents and Mabel for the use of their computers. PCs all, but they suit my needs for now. I understand the reason for Bob's absence, though. God's been telling me a bunch of stuff, including "stop browing the sale pages of Jcrew.com -- the merchandise is the same and you STILL can't afford any of it" and "I refuse to let you send that nasty email you wanted to send, because it won't do any good and no, you won't feel any better after you send it." See, anyone who says that God isn't real or that He's silent ... you've got to be in my shoes, because He seems to bonk me over the head loud and clear all the time with His little messages. Anyhow. My parents are kicking me out of their house, if you can believe it. Computerless again, I am. Bob, I miss you. I love you. I hope they're taking gooooood care of you in Olathe, Kansas. Thank you, MacResQ, for all your hard work. Take good care of Bob. He's my first son.)
(Been without Bob for far too long now. It's all for the best -- he's getting new guts and new brains, which will simply make him live longer, and that's all I want, because he's just the best little PowerBook G4 ever made, he really is. And I've been managing -- scrounging about and appealing to the mercy of my parents and Mabel for the use of their computers. PCs all, but they suit my needs for now. I understand the reason for Bob's absence, though. God's been telling me a bunch of stuff, including "stop browing the sale pages of Jcrew.com -- the merchandise is the same and you STILL can't afford any of it" and "I refuse to let you send that nasty email you wanted to send, because it won't do any good and no, you won't feel any better after you send it." See, anyone who says that God isn't real or that He's silent ... you've got to be in my shoes, because He seems to bonk me over the head loud and clear all the time with His little messages. Anyhow. My parents are kicking me out of their house, if you can believe it. Computerless again, I am. Bob, I miss you. I love you. I hope they're taking gooooood care of you in Olathe, Kansas. Thank you, MacResQ, for all your hard work. Take good care of Bob. He's my first son.)
Tuesday, August 29
Saturday, August 26
GUESS WHAT I AM . . .
I'm a freelancer.
Oh yeah. I always thought it was sort of glamorous when people said they were "freelancing." It sounds so ... independent. Adventurous. Mysterious. Beautiful. Free and clear with the wind blowing through your hair.
Of course, all those people I read and heard of were freelance PHOTOGRAPHERS, or freelance WRITERS, or freelance JOURNALISTS, or freelance SPIES. Still, the allure of the word still holds for me ... even if all I'm doing is helping a friend out with some legal stuff.
Oh yeah. I'm a FREELANCE ATTORNEY. Love it.
***
BRAINPOWER . . .
It is nice, thought, to use my brain in this way again. Not that I didn't enjoy coordinating large events and parties, or co-leading a Missions/Outreach Team at church all year, or helping Mabel lead the women's Bible study this summer, or any of the myriad random other things I have been doing with my time. But it's just different. This is, for better or worse, what I was created and trained to do. It's wonderful to feel that I'm fulfilling my destiny.
Of course, I'm plagued by self-doubt, as always. (What is it in me, or in any of us, that so prevents us from being satisfied with our skills and intelligence and training, and confident in how we use them?) It has been so long since I've researched, analyzed, critiqued, written, persuaded. I don't want to let my friend down with my FREELANCE WORK ... and God knows, I don't want to wake up the day after I hand it in realizing I'm not as sharp as I thought I was.
***
CLEANING HOUSE . . .
I can't clean my heart out, so I cleaned my house instead.
Well, not my whole house. The living room is still a shambles, and the kitchen ... I just don't know how I accumulate so much stuff in the kitchen. But my office ... it's getting there. It's only slightly neater than it was yesterday, only a tiny bit more organized, but I sincerely believe that every little bit counts.
I did have a moment, though, where I opened up my office closet, looked at the collection of stuff inside and thought, "it's going to take me a lifetime to go through this." So ... I closed the door and left it for another day. Basically, I need a dumpster outside my office window, into which I can just chuck things willy-nilly. I can be so lazy that the mere thought of having to CARRY garbage to the garbage can outside can deter me from cleaning.
For now, it's enough that my files are filed, and my papers are in their rightful place.
(Incidentally ... my heart is still not clean. I wish the Container Store had something for that which I am enduring ...)
***
FAST FORWARD . . .
You'll never hear me say this again, I'm sure ... but with Sunday seemingly impossible to handle ... I wish it was Monday already.
I'm a freelancer.
Oh yeah. I always thought it was sort of glamorous when people said they were "freelancing." It sounds so ... independent. Adventurous. Mysterious. Beautiful. Free and clear with the wind blowing through your hair.
Of course, all those people I read and heard of were freelance PHOTOGRAPHERS, or freelance WRITERS, or freelance JOURNALISTS, or freelance SPIES. Still, the allure of the word still holds for me ... even if all I'm doing is helping a friend out with some legal stuff.
Oh yeah. I'm a FREELANCE ATTORNEY. Love it.
***
BRAINPOWER . . .
It is nice, thought, to use my brain in this way again. Not that I didn't enjoy coordinating large events and parties, or co-leading a Missions/Outreach Team at church all year, or helping Mabel lead the women's Bible study this summer, or any of the myriad random other things I have been doing with my time. But it's just different. This is, for better or worse, what I was created and trained to do. It's wonderful to feel that I'm fulfilling my destiny.
Of course, I'm plagued by self-doubt, as always. (What is it in me, or in any of us, that so prevents us from being satisfied with our skills and intelligence and training, and confident in how we use them?) It has been so long since I've researched, analyzed, critiqued, written, persuaded. I don't want to let my friend down with my FREELANCE WORK ... and God knows, I don't want to wake up the day after I hand it in realizing I'm not as sharp as I thought I was.
***
CLEANING HOUSE . . .
I can't clean my heart out, so I cleaned my house instead.
Well, not my whole house. The living room is still a shambles, and the kitchen ... I just don't know how I accumulate so much stuff in the kitchen. But my office ... it's getting there. It's only slightly neater than it was yesterday, only a tiny bit more organized, but I sincerely believe that every little bit counts.
I did have a moment, though, where I opened up my office closet, looked at the collection of stuff inside and thought, "it's going to take me a lifetime to go through this." So ... I closed the door and left it for another day. Basically, I need a dumpster outside my office window, into which I can just chuck things willy-nilly. I can be so lazy that the mere thought of having to CARRY garbage to the garbage can outside can deter me from cleaning.
For now, it's enough that my files are filed, and my papers are in their rightful place.
(Incidentally ... my heart is still not clean. I wish the Container Store had something for that which I am enduring ...)
***
FAST FORWARD . . .
You'll never hear me say this again, I'm sure ... but with Sunday seemingly impossible to handle ... I wish it was Monday already.
Friday, August 25
NO ORIGINAL THOUGHTS . . .
It's been hard to have any lately. Lots going on; simultaneously, nothing going on. Could I feel more schizophrenic? (And how do I know I'm not?)
***
Dr.G says I'm perfectly fine -- the blood does not lie! -- but that still doesn't explain the chronic joint pain, the fitful sleep (if any at all), and more recently, the bloody noses. Is this simply what it is to get older, even by a day, a week, a month, a year? Is this the body's way of simply shutting down, minute by minute? I'm not completely dismayed; I'm just sort of amazed at the circle of life -- that it begins, it goes, and then it ends, all in its own perfect rhythm. It's so perfect and beautiful, in a way, that it convinces me more and more of God's sovereignty each day. Even as I wipe my nose again.
***
B didn't write or call. Am I surprised? Neither did I.
***
I will be making some extra cash in the next few days. This is a VERY VERY GOOD thing. I've been wise so far, but the pinch is on. I'm surprised though ... I always thought I was the poor one in the gang. But Oprah is right -- there is no more middle class. We are ALL poor. Yikes.
Whether we are single, married, married with kids, whatever ... the money crunch is always on. Omma always told me that the number one reason couples fight is money. I believe it now. I can see how stressful it can be -- having to put food on the table for your family (or for yourself), having to put gas in your car, having to pay the bills, wanting to spend time with your friends but wondering "are we really going to order bad pizza again and pay $7 a person for it?!" That sucks.
So the new resolve is on. I will (and must) be wiser about my cash flow; and I will (and must) help my friends be the same. (And is it terrible of me that I don't feel so bad and down-in-the-dumps about being the poor friend anymore? I don't want to MAKE people join me in my faux misery ... but it is sort of nice not being there alone.)
***
It was really dark when I came out into the living room this morning -- low clouds blanketed the sky. It felt so cozy; I sat with my coffee and stared out at the dark grey out-of-doors. But then, it started pouring like mad, and the sky lightened up. Now, I sit in a cottony haze of light grey, and my eyes almost sting from the brightness of the rainy sky. Cool.
***
What have I been learning lately, for one must always be learning something, I think .... Patience. Prayer. Receiving wisdom and truth. Receiving concern. Letting people take care of me. Focus. Who I am vs. who I must be. Obedience. Trust for today, faith for tomorrow. Decision-making. Personal resolve. Why being proud is not always good. That I am not always right. That God is strong, powerful, gentle, loving beyond imagination, purposeful, kind, merciful, and that He speaks loudly.
***
I feel like I've done this one a million times over, but it's still mildly entertaining ...
1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES?
White.
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Madam Secretary, by Madeleine Albright is on deck.
3. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
No mouse pad; just a PowerBook G4 trackpad for me, thanks.
4. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Scrabble.
5. FAVORITE MAGAZINES?
Real Simple; People; SELF.
6. FAVORITE SMELL
Coffee in the morning; fresh clean B; kimchi jigae.
7. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP?
God; B; the weather outside.
8. FAVORITE COLOR?
To look at: red and orange.
To wear: brown and pink.
9. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR?
I don't like to look at royal blue, and I don't think I look that great in yellow.
10. HOW MANY RINGS DOES IT TAKE BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE?
Do I ever answer the phone? What the heck is voicemail for?
11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Oh no, I ain't telling because (1) I don't want to jinx myself into NOT having children; and (2) I don't want tensions to arise from a potential name-steal.
12. WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN LIFE?
That which is hardest: to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul and mind, and to love my neighbour above myself.
13. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Neither.
14. DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST?
Yes.
15. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No.
16. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY?
Cool, particularly when there's lots of thunder and wind. Tornados, on the other hand ... VERY VERY SCARY.
17. WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
Seriously? My mom's silver Cadillac DeVille. OH YEAH.
18. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE?
My paternal grandfather.
19. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
I don't drink so much anymore, but if I had to fall back on a good ol' standby, I'd say ... Black Russian.
20. WHAT IS YOUR SIGN & YOUR BIRTHDAY?
Scorpio. (That explains everything, doesn't it? Yeah, yeah, I know.)
21. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI?
It's the best part!
22. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I can't possibly narrow my desires down! Professor of English Literature at Columbia University; federal prosecutor for the Southern District of New York; high school English teacher; events coordinator for an organization like World Vision; an international legal consultant for an organization like International Justice Mission; super-with-it-and-hip mother and wife ...
23. YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Dark brown with two very thick and wiry strands of white.
24. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Oh yes.
25. FAVORITE MOVIE?
(Why do they ask me to choose just one?) If I must ... and I say this as the titles of all my other favorite movies flit across my mind's eye ... I'll go with "The Sound of Music."
26. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS?
Mostly, but I am realizing that I rarely use my pinkies. Poor neglected things.
27. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Nuthin'.
28. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH?
Yankee baseball live. Yankee baseball on television.
29. WHAT IS YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR?
That I will die with nothing to show for my life, and nothing to show for God.
30. SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS?
I lifted it from Aunt Murry, whom I don't really know, but I hear she has kind things to say to TinyCricket, which makes her grade-A in my book.
31. FAVORITE CD?
What the heck is a CD? My favorite iTunes playlist is my "P&W Jams."
32. FAVORITE TV SHOW?
"Lost."
33. KETCHUP OR MUSTARD?
Ketchup for hamburgers, fries, eggs and Korean fried rice. Mustard for hot dogs and pretzels.
34. HAMBURGERS OR HOT-DOGS?
Definitely both.
35. FAVORITE SOFT DRINK
I don't usually drink a lot of soda, but 7-UP always makes me feel refreshed and nostalgic for my childhood, and it goes with everything.
36. BEST PLACE YOU HAVE EVER BEEN?
Nyack State Park & Beach with B; Block Island with the LOLs; Yankee games with Cheech; and most recently, Ithaca with the gang.
37. PJs OR NIGHTGOWN?
Errr ... I choose not to answer this question.
38. FAVORITE COMIC STRIP?
I don't read comics anymore, but I had a real faithful Calvin & Hobbes phase back in the day.
It's been hard to have any lately. Lots going on; simultaneously, nothing going on. Could I feel more schizophrenic? (And how do I know I'm not?)
***
Dr.G says I'm perfectly fine -- the blood does not lie! -- but that still doesn't explain the chronic joint pain, the fitful sleep (if any at all), and more recently, the bloody noses. Is this simply what it is to get older, even by a day, a week, a month, a year? Is this the body's way of simply shutting down, minute by minute? I'm not completely dismayed; I'm just sort of amazed at the circle of life -- that it begins, it goes, and then it ends, all in its own perfect rhythm. It's so perfect and beautiful, in a way, that it convinces me more and more of God's sovereignty each day. Even as I wipe my nose again.
***
B didn't write or call. Am I surprised? Neither did I.
***
I will be making some extra cash in the next few days. This is a VERY VERY GOOD thing. I've been wise so far, but the pinch is on. I'm surprised though ... I always thought I was the poor one in the gang. But Oprah is right -- there is no more middle class. We are ALL poor. Yikes.
Whether we are single, married, married with kids, whatever ... the money crunch is always on. Omma always told me that the number one reason couples fight is money. I believe it now. I can see how stressful it can be -- having to put food on the table for your family (or for yourself), having to put gas in your car, having to pay the bills, wanting to spend time with your friends but wondering "are we really going to order bad pizza again and pay $7 a person for it?!" That sucks.
So the new resolve is on. I will (and must) be wiser about my cash flow; and I will (and must) help my friends be the same. (And is it terrible of me that I don't feel so bad and down-in-the-dumps about being the poor friend anymore? I don't want to MAKE people join me in my faux misery ... but it is sort of nice not being there alone.)
***
It was really dark when I came out into the living room this morning -- low clouds blanketed the sky. It felt so cozy; I sat with my coffee and stared out at the dark grey out-of-doors. But then, it started pouring like mad, and the sky lightened up. Now, I sit in a cottony haze of light grey, and my eyes almost sting from the brightness of the rainy sky. Cool.
***
What have I been learning lately, for one must always be learning something, I think .... Patience. Prayer. Receiving wisdom and truth. Receiving concern. Letting people take care of me. Focus. Who I am vs. who I must be. Obedience. Trust for today, faith for tomorrow. Decision-making. Personal resolve. Why being proud is not always good. That I am not always right. That God is strong, powerful, gentle, loving beyond imagination, purposeful, kind, merciful, and that He speaks loudly.
***
I feel like I've done this one a million times over, but it's still mildly entertaining ...
1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES?
White.
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Freakonomics, by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner. Madam Secretary, by Madeleine Albright is on deck.
3. WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
No mouse pad; just a PowerBook G4 trackpad for me, thanks.
4. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Scrabble.
5. FAVORITE MAGAZINES?
Real Simple; People; SELF.
6. FAVORITE SMELL
Coffee in the morning; fresh clean B; kimchi jigae.
7. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP?
God; B; the weather outside.
8. FAVORITE COLOR?
To look at: red and orange.
To wear: brown and pink.
9. LEAST FAVORITE COLOR?
I don't like to look at royal blue, and I don't think I look that great in yellow.
10. HOW MANY RINGS DOES IT TAKE BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE?
Do I ever answer the phone? What the heck is voicemail for?
11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Oh no, I ain't telling because (1) I don't want to jinx myself into NOT having children; and (2) I don't want tensions to arise from a potential name-steal.
12. WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN LIFE?
That which is hardest: to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul and mind, and to love my neighbour above myself.
13. CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA?
Neither.
14. DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST?
Yes.
15. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No.
16. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY?
Cool, particularly when there's lots of thunder and wind. Tornados, on the other hand ... VERY VERY SCARY.
17. WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
Seriously? My mom's silver Cadillac DeVille. OH YEAH.
18. IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE?
My paternal grandfather.
19. FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK?
I don't drink so much anymore, but if I had to fall back on a good ol' standby, I'd say ... Black Russian.
20. WHAT IS YOUR SIGN & YOUR BIRTHDAY?
Scorpio. (That explains everything, doesn't it? Yeah, yeah, I know.)
21. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI?
It's the best part!
22. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB WHAT WOULD IT BE?
I can't possibly narrow my desires down! Professor of English Literature at Columbia University; federal prosecutor for the Southern District of New York; high school English teacher; events coordinator for an organization like World Vision; an international legal consultant for an organization like International Justice Mission; super-with-it-and-hip mother and wife ...
23. YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Dark brown with two very thick and wiry strands of white.
24. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Oh yes.
25. FAVORITE MOVIE?
(Why do they ask me to choose just one?) If I must ... and I say this as the titles of all my other favorite movies flit across my mind's eye ... I'll go with "The Sound of Music."
26. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS?
Mostly, but I am realizing that I rarely use my pinkies. Poor neglected things.
27. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Nuthin'.
28. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH?
Yankee baseball live. Yankee baseball on television.
29. WHAT IS YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR?
That I will die with nothing to show for my life, and nothing to show for God.
30. SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS?
I lifted it from Aunt Murry, whom I don't really know, but I hear she has kind things to say to TinyCricket, which makes her grade-A in my book.
31. FAVORITE CD?
What the heck is a CD? My favorite iTunes playlist is my "P&W Jams."
32. FAVORITE TV SHOW?
"Lost."
33. KETCHUP OR MUSTARD?
Ketchup for hamburgers, fries, eggs and Korean fried rice. Mustard for hot dogs and pretzels.
34. HAMBURGERS OR HOT-DOGS?
Definitely both.
35. FAVORITE SOFT DRINK
I don't usually drink a lot of soda, but 7-UP always makes me feel refreshed and nostalgic for my childhood, and it goes with everything.
36. BEST PLACE YOU HAVE EVER BEEN?
Nyack State Park & Beach with B; Block Island with the LOLs; Yankee games with Cheech; and most recently, Ithaca with the gang.
37. PJs OR NIGHTGOWN?
Errr ... I choose not to answer this question.
38. FAVORITE COMIC STRIP?
I don't read comics anymore, but I had a real faithful Calvin & Hobbes phase back in the day.
Tuesday, August 22
MEME ME MORE . . .
Thanks, Unlimited Mood for the list ... (instructions: highlight somehow -- bold, italics, capital letters -- what you have done) ...
I HAVE ...
01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN (A SMALL ONE)
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND MEANT IT
09. HUGGED A TREE
10. Bungee-jumped
11. VISITED PARIS
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. STAYED UP ALL NIGHT LONG AND SAW THE SUN RISE (TOO MANY TIMES TO COUNT)
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. GONE TO A HUGE SPORTS GAME
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten my own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. SLEPT UNDER THE STARS
20. CHANGED A BABY'S DIAPER
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. WATCHED A METEOR SHOWER
23. GOTTEN DRUNK ON CHAMPAGNE
24. GIVEN MORE THAN I CAN AFFORD TO CHARITY
25. LOOKED UP AT THE NIGHT SKY THROUGH A TELESCOPE
26. HAD AN UNCONTROLLABLE GIGGLING FIT AT THE WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT
27. HAD A FOOD FIGHT
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. HAD A SNOWBALL FIGHT
31. SCREAMED AS LOUDLY AS I POSSIBLY CAN
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. RIDDEN A ROLLER COASTER
35. Hit a home run
36. DANCED LIKE A FOOL AND NOT CARED WHO WAS LOOKING
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. ACTUALLY FELT HAPPY ABOUT MY LIFE, EVEN FOR JUST A MOMENT
39. HAD TWO HARD DRIVES FOR MY COMPUTER
40. Visited all 50 states
41. TAKEN CARE OF SOMEONE WHO WAS SH*T-FACED
42. HAD AMAZING FRIENDS (AND STILL DO)
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. WATCHED WILD WHALES
45. STOLEN A SIGN
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. TAKEN A ROAD-TRIP
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Taken a midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than I was actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. ALPHABETIZED MY CD'S
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. SUNG KARAOKE
59. LOUNGED AROUND IN BED ALL DAY
60. Posed nude in front of strangers
61. Gone scuba diving
62. KISSED IN THE RAIN
63. PLAYED IN THE MUD
64. PLAYED IN THE RAIN
65. GONE TO A DRIVE-IN THEATER
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. TOURED ANCIENT SITES
70. TAKEN A MARTIAL ARTS CLASS
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. MADE COOKIES FROM SCRATCH
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an expert
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. PERFORMED ON STAGE
85. BEEN TO LAS VEGAS
86. RECORDED MUSIC
87. EATEN SHARK
88. Had a one-night stand
89. Gone to Thailand
90. BOUGHT A HOUSE
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. BEEN ON A CRUISE SHIP
94. SPOKEN MORE THAN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. SANG LOUDLY IN THE CAR, AND DIDN'T STOP WHEN I KNEW SOMEONE WAS LOOKING
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived
105. Written articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Petted a stingray
110. BROKEN SOMEONE'S HEART
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. HAD MAJOR SURGERY (WHAT IS "MAJOR"?)
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. EATEN SUSHI
128. HAD MY PICTURE IN THE NEWSPAPER
129. Changed someone's mind about something I care deeply about
130. GONE BACK TO SCHOOL
131. Parasailed
132. Petted a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. READ "THE ILIAD" AND "THE ODYSSEY"
135. SELECTED ONE IMPORTANT AUTHOR I MISSED IN SCHOOL, AND READ HIM/HER
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. SKIPPED ALL MY SCHOOL REUNIONS
138. COMMUNICATED WITH SOMEONE WITHOUT SHARING A COMMON SPOKEN LANGUAGE
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written my own computer language
141. Thought to myself that I'm living my dream
142. Had to put someone I love into hospice care
143. Built my own PC from parts
144. Sold my own artwork to someone who didn't know me
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed my hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved my head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone's life
What have you done?
Thanks, Unlimited Mood for the list ... (instructions: highlight somehow -- bold, italics, capital letters -- what you have done) ...
I HAVE ...
01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN (A SMALL ONE)
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND MEANT IT
09. HUGGED A TREE
10. Bungee-jumped
11. VISITED PARIS
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. STAYED UP ALL NIGHT LONG AND SAW THE SUN RISE (TOO MANY TIMES TO COUNT)
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. GONE TO A HUGE SPORTS GAME
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten my own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. SLEPT UNDER THE STARS
20. CHANGED A BABY'S DIAPER
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. WATCHED A METEOR SHOWER
23. GOTTEN DRUNK ON CHAMPAGNE
24. GIVEN MORE THAN I CAN AFFORD TO CHARITY
25. LOOKED UP AT THE NIGHT SKY THROUGH A TELESCOPE
26. HAD AN UNCONTROLLABLE GIGGLING FIT AT THE WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT
27. HAD A FOOD FIGHT
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. HAD A SNOWBALL FIGHT
31. SCREAMED AS LOUDLY AS I POSSIBLY CAN
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. RIDDEN A ROLLER COASTER
35. Hit a home run
36. DANCED LIKE A FOOL AND NOT CARED WHO WAS LOOKING
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. ACTUALLY FELT HAPPY ABOUT MY LIFE, EVEN FOR JUST A MOMENT
39. HAD TWO HARD DRIVES FOR MY COMPUTER
40. Visited all 50 states
41. TAKEN CARE OF SOMEONE WHO WAS SH*T-FACED
42. HAD AMAZING FRIENDS (AND STILL DO)
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. WATCHED WILD WHALES
45. STOLEN A SIGN
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. TAKEN A ROAD-TRIP
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Taken a midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than I was actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger's table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. ALPHABETIZED MY CD'S
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. SUNG KARAOKE
59. LOUNGED AROUND IN BED ALL DAY
60. Posed nude in front of strangers
61. Gone scuba diving
62. KISSED IN THE RAIN
63. PLAYED IN THE MUD
64. PLAYED IN THE RAIN
65. GONE TO A DRIVE-IN THEATER
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. TOURED ANCIENT SITES
70. TAKEN A MARTIAL ARTS CLASS
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. MADE COOKIES FROM SCRATCH
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an expert
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. PERFORMED ON STAGE
85. BEEN TO LAS VEGAS
86. RECORDED MUSIC
87. EATEN SHARK
88. Had a one-night stand
89. Gone to Thailand
90. BOUGHT A HOUSE
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. BEEN ON A CRUISE SHIP
94. SPOKEN MORE THAN ONE LANGUAGE FLUENTLY
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. SANG LOUDLY IN THE CAR, AND DIDN'T STOP WHEN I KNEW SOMEONE WAS LOOKING
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn't have survived
105. Written articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Petted a stingray
110. BROKEN SOMEONE'S HEART
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. HAD MAJOR SURGERY (WHAT IS "MAJOR"?)
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. EATEN SUSHI
128. HAD MY PICTURE IN THE NEWSPAPER
129. Changed someone's mind about something I care deeply about
130. GONE BACK TO SCHOOL
131. Parasailed
132. Petted a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. READ "THE ILIAD" AND "THE ODYSSEY"
135. SELECTED ONE IMPORTANT AUTHOR I MISSED IN SCHOOL, AND READ HIM/HER
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. SKIPPED ALL MY SCHOOL REUNIONS
138. COMMUNICATED WITH SOMEONE WITHOUT SHARING A COMMON SPOKEN LANGUAGE
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written my own computer language
141. Thought to myself that I'm living my dream
142. Had to put someone I love into hospice care
143. Built my own PC from parts
144. Sold my own artwork to someone who didn't know me
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed my hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved my head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone's life
What have you done?
NO MAN IS AN ISLAND . . .
Cliche, but true.
Driving up to Ithaca late on Friday night in the Bullet, we took a pit-stop at some totally dark, remote, podunk exit about two-and-a-half hours north of Poughkeepsie. I don't even remember the town's name ... if it even was a legitimately sized town. There were no lights on the highway on the stretch of Route 17 on which we had just been, and there were barely any lights illuminating the streets of the town in which we found ourselves. It was remote, deserted almost. (I still can't figure out why, though, there was a small group of young English/Scottish men sitting around a table in the McDonald's we stopped in, for coffee and bathroom breaks. How they and their charming accents found their way to this exit is still beyond me.)
As we left McDonald's and tried to navigate our way back onto Route 17, we paused the Bullet by a messy and seemingly deserted construction site so that Mabel could make some car adjustments. I freaked out. On both sides of the road, there was complete darkness; vague and ominous shapes loomed; no other cars or people were to be seen at that hour of the night. Endless shades of grey and black stretched out around and through the structures of the construction site. Even with the three of us safely ensconced in the Bullet, I was terrified.
In the moment, I chalked it up to too much television; "CSI" was to blame, Mabel said. But I think there's more to it. I am terrified of being alone. Even when I'm not alone, I'm terrified of being alone. Even when I'm in a group of three, the fact that we three are together alone in the wilderness of upstate New York somewhere terrifies me.
We people like to be independent. We like to be self-sufficient. We like to do things ourselves, ALONE. But the bottom line, I have concluded, is this: we are terrified of being alone, and being alone just is not good for us. Vast darkness, with no one by our side, with no potential human interaction, warmth, safety, protection, companionship, rescue on the horizon, is terrifing. We are not made to be alone; we are not made to be separated from people or from God. All of our enjoyment of independence and alone-ness and self-assurance flies out the window when we stand in a dark place with no voices to be heard and no lights to be seen. We are not made to be alone, and to think we can do anything on our own is a total lie.
Cliche, but true.
Driving up to Ithaca late on Friday night in the Bullet, we took a pit-stop at some totally dark, remote, podunk exit about two-and-a-half hours north of Poughkeepsie. I don't even remember the town's name ... if it even was a legitimately sized town. There were no lights on the highway on the stretch of Route 17 on which we had just been, and there were barely any lights illuminating the streets of the town in which we found ourselves. It was remote, deserted almost. (I still can't figure out why, though, there was a small group of young English/Scottish men sitting around a table in the McDonald's we stopped in, for coffee and bathroom breaks. How they and their charming accents found their way to this exit is still beyond me.)
As we left McDonald's and tried to navigate our way back onto Route 17, we paused the Bullet by a messy and seemingly deserted construction site so that Mabel could make some car adjustments. I freaked out. On both sides of the road, there was complete darkness; vague and ominous shapes loomed; no other cars or people were to be seen at that hour of the night. Endless shades of grey and black stretched out around and through the structures of the construction site. Even with the three of us safely ensconced in the Bullet, I was terrified.
In the moment, I chalked it up to too much television; "CSI" was to blame, Mabel said. But I think there's more to it. I am terrified of being alone. Even when I'm not alone, I'm terrified of being alone. Even when I'm in a group of three, the fact that we three are together alone in the wilderness of upstate New York somewhere terrifies me.
We people like to be independent. We like to be self-sufficient. We like to do things ourselves, ALONE. But the bottom line, I have concluded, is this: we are terrified of being alone, and being alone just is not good for us. Vast darkness, with no one by our side, with no potential human interaction, warmth, safety, protection, companionship, rescue on the horizon, is terrifing. We are not made to be alone; we are not made to be separated from people or from God. All of our enjoyment of independence and alone-ness and self-assurance flies out the window when we stand in a dark place with no voices to be heard and no lights to be seen. We are not made to be alone, and to think we can do anything on our own is a total lie.
Tuesday, August 15
THINGS I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT . . .
Okay, so you know how when some women give birth vaginally (how dumb am I that typing the word "vaginally" and knowing that who-knows-how-many-people are going to read it makes me blush and giggle?!), they tear in their perineum area? (And if you don't know what the perineum is ... well, you're just going to have to look it up for yourself because I'm sort of at the limit of my blushing here.) When I first learned of this phenomenon, I thought several things: "That sucks." "Ooh, that's gotta smart." "I hope that doesn't happen to me." "I bet that will happen to me." "The possibility of lifelong incontinence? The horror!" "Sucks to be the person having to sew THAT up."
But just now -- thank you EVER so much, Mabel -- I learned that women can also tear THE OTHER WAY.
Yes, I said THE OTHER WAY.
As in, NOT towards the back. As in, towards the front. Or more accurately, towards the TOP.
THAT REALLY REALLY REALLY SUCKS AND MUST SMART AN AWFUL LOT.
And of course, now I can't stop thinking about it, and how awful that must be, and the lifelong repercussions of such a tear, etc. etc. etc. It's only a matter of time before I go to Google ...
Okay, so you know how when some women give birth vaginally (how dumb am I that typing the word "vaginally" and knowing that who-knows-how-many-people are going to read it makes me blush and giggle?!), they tear in their perineum area? (And if you don't know what the perineum is ... well, you're just going to have to look it up for yourself because I'm sort of at the limit of my blushing here.) When I first learned of this phenomenon, I thought several things: "That sucks." "Ooh, that's gotta smart." "I hope that doesn't happen to me." "I bet that will happen to me." "The possibility of lifelong incontinence? The horror!" "Sucks to be the person having to sew THAT up."
But just now -- thank you EVER so much, Mabel -- I learned that women can also tear THE OTHER WAY.
Yes, I said THE OTHER WAY.
As in, NOT towards the back. As in, towards the front. Or more accurately, towards the TOP.
THAT REALLY REALLY REALLY SUCKS AND MUST SMART AN AWFUL LOT.
And of course, now I can't stop thinking about it, and how awful that must be, and the lifelong repercussions of such a tear, etc. etc. etc. It's only a matter of time before I go to Google ...
Thursday, August 10
BLING . . .
I'm not a fan of the diamond engagement ring. I think I can appreciate the beauty (and even size? Although I think there is a point at which a really large diamond is just ... shiny) of my friends' engagement rings, but when I think about if and when I become engaged to be married, I just think don't a diamond would suit me. I'm just not a shiny kind of girl.
But this tromp l'oeil ring, by Edouard Larmaraud, does catch my eye, with its simplicity, and clean modern lines. What a hoot -- to enlarge a teeny diamond with a big hunk of glass! I just love how it slaps you right in the face with what is a reality for so many women -- the deep, bizarre desire to wear a huge diamond ring. "There!", this says, "here's your big fat diamond! (You just have to look at it through the glass first. Hee.)"
Monday, July 24
MEME GALORE . . .
Five Items in My Freezer
Package of marinated kalbi
Half a bowl of pesto sauce
Two Klondike bars
A full ice cube tray, finally
A pint of Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie ice cream
Five Items in My Closet
My favorite pair of jeans
My bright red suitcase
My bright red Korean 'mink' blanket
Mini-ironing board
Expensive iron that I never use but thought I should buy because every responsible grown woman irons, doesn't she?
Five Items in My Car
Road atlas of the contiguous United States
Small box of Kleenex tissues
A massive roadside tool kit (which I have never opened, so I don't even know what's inside it)
A set of golf clubs
Tampons, in case of emergency
Five Items in My Purse/Bag
Burt's Bees lip balm
A pencil case with assorted pens and golf pencils
A pack of Kleenex tissues
L'Occitane hand cream
A cough drop so old the wrapper has completely stuck to the drop and there is no hope of getting it off but I can't bring myself to throw it away because I might really need it someday
Five Items in My Freezer
Package of marinated kalbi
Half a bowl of pesto sauce
Two Klondike bars
A full ice cube tray, finally
A pint of Ben & Jerry's Oatmeal Cookie ice cream
Five Items in My Closet
My favorite pair of jeans
My bright red suitcase
My bright red Korean 'mink' blanket
Mini-ironing board
Expensive iron that I never use but thought I should buy because every responsible grown woman irons, doesn't she?
Five Items in My Car
Road atlas of the contiguous United States
Small box of Kleenex tissues
A massive roadside tool kit (which I have never opened, so I don't even know what's inside it)
A set of golf clubs
Tampons, in case of emergency
Five Items in My Purse/Bag
Burt's Bees lip balm
A pencil case with assorted pens and golf pencils
A pack of Kleenex tissues
L'Occitane hand cream
A cough drop so old the wrapper has completely stuck to the drop and there is no hope of getting it off but I can't bring myself to throw it away because I might really need it someday
Thursday, July 20
YAWWWWN . . .
This is the earliest I've gone to bed in ... months ... and of course, I'm not sleepy anymore, even though I'm technically running on fumes. I'm too excited for the Women's Conference in D.C. ... I'm too excited by feeling God's presence hovering over my bed like the warmest comforter in the world ... I'm too excited by envisioning the Spirit moving over our cars tomorrow morning like a low-lying, heavy fortress of a cloud ... I'm too excited about everything!!!
Too excited to sleep, never too excited for a meme. Cheers, TinyCricket, I'll miss you this weekend.
Accent:
I can't tell, hearing myself, but people have said to me: "Are you a Valley Girl?" "You sound like Akeelah" and "That is sooooo Westchester!" When I speak Korean, I'm North Korean all the way.
Bible Book That I Like:
Right now, Genesis is making me fire on all cylinders.
Chore That I Don't Care For:
Cleaning the bathroom. If I didn't have people over all the time, I'd NEVER clean it. I mean it -- NEVER.
Dog or Cat:
All cats are evil and they want to bite my ankles and claw my eyes out. I like dogs. Big dogs that don't hiss at me.
Essential Electronics:
Bob, Herb, and my coffee-maker.
Favorite Cologne:
I like my men cologne-free.
Gold or Silver:
Silver, and the chunkier the better.
Handbag I Carry Most Often:
The Coach bag I got in L.A. with Ha.
Insomnia:
Chronic.
Job Title:
By vocation, attorney, but in reality, NHF lackey. Can someone please tell me why I'm not on payroll?
Kids:
My own, I'm praying for them. Until then, I'm keeping myself busy by tormenting my friends' anklebiters. (And yes, one of them DID bite my ankle once. Grrrr.)
Living Arrangements:
1.5-bedroom condo with four plants, a constant rotation of friends, and a special B.
Most Admirable Trait:
In others, compassion. I covet the compassion that others are able to possess and show to people around them. I've been told that I'm a good listener and that I have an endless heart for people and justice, but really, I think I'm merely organized and neat.
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior:
Being a smarty-pants in class, in both the smart-ass way and the know-it-all way. Teachers could never decide if they loved or hated me.
Overnight Hospital Stay:
When I got my appendix taken out. And then I was such a belligerent patient ("Why CAN'T I have a cheeseburger? I'm HUNGRY!!!!" and "I don't WANT to pee in a bedpan, I WANT to GO to the TOILET" stick out memorably in my mind.), that the staff was MORE than happy to discharge me a day early.
Phobias:
Clowns, deep water, and being left alone.
Quote:
"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." -- Ps. 31:24
OR
"Quiet, you."
Religion:
Evangelical Christian
Siblings:
A younger brother.
Time I Wake Up:
It depends when I go to sleep ... if I go to sleep ...
Unusual Talent or Skill:
I can really, REALLY multi-task. I also read and type unnaturally quickly. And someone once told me, "I didn't know Asian women could drive SUVs," so does that count, that I can and do?
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat:
Cauliflower. There is just nothing good about it.
Worst Habit:
Picking my lower lip, sometimes until it bleeds. That, and not paying for parking.
X-rays:
My teeth. My knees. My innards. Honestly, I want to go through an MRI machine, but I hear they're expensive. They just sound so relaxing ...
Yummy Stuff I Cook:
Pecan pie ... cranberry-toffee-chocolate-oatmeal cookies ... spaghetti with spicy and thick red sauce ... jap-chae ... a pot of real tasty coffee ... meatloaf ... any Korean dish Omma taught me to make ...
Zoo Animal I Like Most:
The penguin.
This is the earliest I've gone to bed in ... months ... and of course, I'm not sleepy anymore, even though I'm technically running on fumes. I'm too excited for the Women's Conference in D.C. ... I'm too excited by feeling God's presence hovering over my bed like the warmest comforter in the world ... I'm too excited by envisioning the Spirit moving over our cars tomorrow morning like a low-lying, heavy fortress of a cloud ... I'm too excited about everything!!!
Too excited to sleep, never too excited for a meme. Cheers, TinyCricket, I'll miss you this weekend.
Accent:
I can't tell, hearing myself, but people have said to me: "Are you a Valley Girl?" "You sound like Akeelah" and "That is sooooo Westchester!" When I speak Korean, I'm North Korean all the way.
Bible Book That I Like:
Right now, Genesis is making me fire on all cylinders.
Chore That I Don't Care For:
Cleaning the bathroom. If I didn't have people over all the time, I'd NEVER clean it. I mean it -- NEVER.
Dog or Cat:
All cats are evil and they want to bite my ankles and claw my eyes out. I like dogs. Big dogs that don't hiss at me.
Essential Electronics:
Bob, Herb, and my coffee-maker.
Favorite Cologne:
I like my men cologne-free.
Gold or Silver:
Silver, and the chunkier the better.
Handbag I Carry Most Often:
The Coach bag I got in L.A. with Ha.
Insomnia:
Chronic.
Job Title:
By vocation, attorney, but in reality, NHF lackey. Can someone please tell me why I'm not on payroll?
Kids:
My own, I'm praying for them. Until then, I'm keeping myself busy by tormenting my friends' anklebiters. (And yes, one of them DID bite my ankle once. Grrrr.)
Living Arrangements:
1.5-bedroom condo with four plants, a constant rotation of friends, and a special B.
Most Admirable Trait:
In others, compassion. I covet the compassion that others are able to possess and show to people around them. I've been told that I'm a good listener and that I have an endless heart for people and justice, but really, I think I'm merely organized and neat.
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior:
Being a smarty-pants in class, in both the smart-ass way and the know-it-all way. Teachers could never decide if they loved or hated me.
Overnight Hospital Stay:
When I got my appendix taken out. And then I was such a belligerent patient ("Why CAN'T I have a cheeseburger? I'm HUNGRY!!!!" and "I don't WANT to pee in a bedpan, I WANT to GO to the TOILET" stick out memorably in my mind.), that the staff was MORE than happy to discharge me a day early.
Phobias:
Clowns, deep water, and being left alone.
Quote:
"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." -- Ps. 31:24
OR
"Quiet, you."
Religion:
Evangelical Christian
Siblings:
A younger brother.
Time I Wake Up:
It depends when I go to sleep ... if I go to sleep ...
Unusual Talent or Skill:
I can really, REALLY multi-task. I also read and type unnaturally quickly. And someone once told me, "I didn't know Asian women could drive SUVs," so does that count, that I can and do?
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat:
Cauliflower. There is just nothing good about it.
Worst Habit:
Picking my lower lip, sometimes until it bleeds. That, and not paying for parking.
X-rays:
My teeth. My knees. My innards. Honestly, I want to go through an MRI machine, but I hear they're expensive. They just sound so relaxing ...
Yummy Stuff I Cook:
Pecan pie ... cranberry-toffee-chocolate-oatmeal cookies ... spaghetti with spicy and thick red sauce ... jap-chae ... a pot of real tasty coffee ... meatloaf ... any Korean dish Omma taught me to make ...
Zoo Animal I Like Most:
The penguin.
Tuesday, July 18
NEWS ALERT . . .
The world ain't perfect. Oy, it breaks my heart and tires me out.
Shrub cursed into the microphone, in that dumb voice of his. What a ... grrrr. After watching the news clip on the Internet, we just dissolved into gales of laughter, rolling around on the floor. Not because he's a funny guy. It was too tragic; we didn't know what else to do.
14,000 Iraqis died so far in 2006, because of the "conflict." Conflict. What a dumb word to describe a completely not dumb thing. Me wanting Italian and you wanting Japanese for dinner -- that's a conflict.
Another tsunami and hundreds dead in Indonesia. Some people just don't get a break. I hate when I find myself in the position of asking God, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?" I'm not being faithless; I know where my heart is. I'm just ... not understanding fully.
And I'm with Mabel -- so many people who don't know What they're missing, and don't take the time or care to try to find out. I don't understand how one can say "I need more" or "I need my life to change" or "I want to make things right" or "I want my life to be right" or even "I need God" ... then not do anything about it. It's not like saying "I want a manicure" but then failing to make time for your fingernails. Ignoring one's own soul and heart-yearnings ... it seems like such deadening, draining, life-ebbing effort. And don't even get me started on the people who don't even KNOW that they're missing something ... this past few months has felt like one-step-forward-two-steps-back, and I don't know quite what to do about the folks who are dragging me under with them. When can I kick the crutches out from under them? When can I step away and just leave them in the hands of God via prayer? Or do I have to, must I, am I called to, hold them up always?
Grey areas. I like them ... but not all the time.
My heart is so unsettled today, and I hate going into a care group night this way; Tuesdays are hard enough already. I have so many preconceived notions about how this evening will progress ... I hope to be proven false, but I also wonder if I'll sabotage myself and not allow God's grace to work around and in me. I try to be on my guard about these things ... but as prickly as I'm feeling today ... I wonder if a porcupine spine will shoot out of my back and stab someone in the eyeball.
The world ain't perfect. Oy, it breaks my heart and tires me out.
Shrub cursed into the microphone, in that dumb voice of his. What a ... grrrr. After watching the news clip on the Internet, we just dissolved into gales of laughter, rolling around on the floor. Not because he's a funny guy. It was too tragic; we didn't know what else to do.
14,000 Iraqis died so far in 2006, because of the "conflict." Conflict. What a dumb word to describe a completely not dumb thing. Me wanting Italian and you wanting Japanese for dinner -- that's a conflict.
Another tsunami and hundreds dead in Indonesia. Some people just don't get a break. I hate when I find myself in the position of asking God, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?" I'm not being faithless; I know where my heart is. I'm just ... not understanding fully.
And I'm with Mabel -- so many people who don't know What they're missing, and don't take the time or care to try to find out. I don't understand how one can say "I need more" or "I need my life to change" or "I want to make things right" or "I want my life to be right" or even "I need God" ... then not do anything about it. It's not like saying "I want a manicure" but then failing to make time for your fingernails. Ignoring one's own soul and heart-yearnings ... it seems like such deadening, draining, life-ebbing effort. And don't even get me started on the people who don't even KNOW that they're missing something ... this past few months has felt like one-step-forward-two-steps-back, and I don't know quite what to do about the folks who are dragging me under with them. When can I kick the crutches out from under them? When can I step away and just leave them in the hands of God via prayer? Or do I have to, must I, am I called to, hold them up always?
Grey areas. I like them ... but not all the time.
My heart is so unsettled today, and I hate going into a care group night this way; Tuesdays are hard enough already. I have so many preconceived notions about how this evening will progress ... I hope to be proven false, but I also wonder if I'll sabotage myself and not allow God's grace to work around and in me. I try to be on my guard about these things ... but as prickly as I'm feeling today ... I wonder if a porcupine spine will shoot out of my back and stab someone in the eyeball.
Saturday, July 15
IT'S TRUE! . . .
Honesty begets honesty. Confession begets confession. Support begets support. Laughter begets laughter. Care begets care. Love begets love. Healing begets healing. Prayer begets prayer.
***
TEN THINGS YOU'LL NEVER HEAR ME SAY . . .
(Yeah, I know: never say never ...)
I don't remember where I saw this. But I'm bored, so I'm lifting it ...
1. "No, I don't mind the mess."
2. "Could I have more ice in my drink?"
3. "I love cats."
4. "I hate driving."
5. "I've gotta get out of New York."
6. "Can you massage my legs?"
7. "I can't wait to see that new Vin Diesel movie."
8. "It needs more sequins."
9. "I'll try the eel."
10. "Pass the Mary Jane."
Honesty begets honesty. Confession begets confession. Support begets support. Laughter begets laughter. Care begets care. Love begets love. Healing begets healing. Prayer begets prayer.
***
TEN THINGS YOU'LL NEVER HEAR ME SAY . . .
(Yeah, I know: never say never ...)
I don't remember where I saw this. But I'm bored, so I'm lifting it ...
1. "No, I don't mind the mess."
2. "Could I have more ice in my drink?"
3. "I love cats."
4. "I hate driving."
5. "I've gotta get out of New York."
6. "Can you massage my legs?"
7. "I can't wait to see that new Vin Diesel movie."
8. "It needs more sequins."
9. "I'll try the eel."
10. "Pass the Mary Jane."
Friday, July 14
TO CLOSE THE WEEK . . .
I'm about to head into a quiet time with God. Side note: I was sharing with someone last night that I have seen evidence of God's grace -- "grace" is no longer a nebulous, nicey-nice concept to me anymore, because lately, no matter how tired I have been, how down I have been, how distracted I have been, I have also been craving reading the Bible and talking to God. I wasn't always like this; I have often traveled through phases of being like this. But I think that's the ultimate grace of God. It's not just that He commands us to spend time with Him, loving Him, studying His word and obeying Him -- once we start to do so, He makes it EASY for us to continue. He put in my heart a continued craving for Him, so that it's not just always ME dragging myself to my study to open up the Bible and read. No, it's HIM, drawing me in, putting something on my heart that makes me WANT to see what's next, that makes me WANT to be still even for a moment to hear His whispers. I'm not on my own; I'm not doing things on my own -- He helps me, and He helps us. So when I'm tired and sleepy like I am now, I know and can trust that if I just keep my eyes open for a few more minutes ... He'll be there right in front of me saying "hey, whassup." That's cool. That's grace.
But before I do, I still have to unwind from my busy, sweaty day. This has been going around a lot lately, lifted from "Inside the Actor's Studio, so I'm joining in the fray:
What is your favorite word?
Today, "grace."
What is your least favorite word?
"Moist."
What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
Wit, depth, and nice back muscles.
What turns you off?
Lack of awareness.
What is your favorite curse word?
"F*ck." It just feels so good coming off your lips sometimes.
What sound or noise do you love?
Music -- of any kind, and from any instrument, and from any voice -- that is propelled forcefully by gut-wrenching passion.
What sound or noise do you hate?
Disappointment in the voice of one speaking to me.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
College English literature professor.
What profession would you not like to do?
Physics professor.
If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
"Come on in; Jesus will show you to your room now."
I'm about to head into a quiet time with God. Side note: I was sharing with someone last night that I have seen evidence of God's grace -- "grace" is no longer a nebulous, nicey-nice concept to me anymore, because lately, no matter how tired I have been, how down I have been, how distracted I have been, I have also been craving reading the Bible and talking to God. I wasn't always like this; I have often traveled through phases of being like this. But I think that's the ultimate grace of God. It's not just that He commands us to spend time with Him, loving Him, studying His word and obeying Him -- once we start to do so, He makes it EASY for us to continue. He put in my heart a continued craving for Him, so that it's not just always ME dragging myself to my study to open up the Bible and read. No, it's HIM, drawing me in, putting something on my heart that makes me WANT to see what's next, that makes me WANT to be still even for a moment to hear His whispers. I'm not on my own; I'm not doing things on my own -- He helps me, and He helps us. So when I'm tired and sleepy like I am now, I know and can trust that if I just keep my eyes open for a few more minutes ... He'll be there right in front of me saying "hey, whassup." That's cool. That's grace.
But before I do, I still have to unwind from my busy, sweaty day. This has been going around a lot lately, lifted from "Inside the Actor's Studio, so I'm joining in the fray:
What is your favorite word?
Today, "grace."
What is your least favorite word?
"Moist."
What turns you on creatively, spiritually, or emotionally?
Wit, depth, and nice back muscles.
What turns you off?
Lack of awareness.
What is your favorite curse word?
"F*ck." It just feels so good coming off your lips sometimes.
What sound or noise do you love?
Music -- of any kind, and from any instrument, and from any voice -- that is propelled forcefully by gut-wrenching passion.
What sound or noise do you hate?
Disappointment in the voice of one speaking to me.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
College English literature professor.
What profession would you not like to do?
Physics professor.
If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
"Come on in; Jesus will show you to your room now."
Thursday, July 13
GRACE OF GOD . . .
We swung by NHF tonight, long after the cops and crewmen and journalists and gawkers had gone home to bed. It was eerie, surreal, other-worldly.
One of the panes of the front stained-glass window is gone; apparently, it was just sucked out of its frame and ended up as a shattered, tangled mess down the block. There are things on the roof that don't naturally belong there; there are parts of the roof missing that should be there. The church van is smooshed; a car parked in front of the van is destroyed. Twisted -- and yes, now I know what it looks like when newspaper stories report "twisted tree branches" -- tree branches and portions of tree trunks lay flung about the church driveway. Entire tops of huge oak and maple trees rest against the church building. The solid iron railing is pulled and wrung away from its posts. There is a hole in the roof, maybe more than one.
But the cross over the rear entrance door is intact and hanging straight. The newly-installed front steps are just as sturdy and pretty as they were the day the stones were laid. The flowers lining the front walk are completely untouched; their stems are unbowed and the petals are not battened nor wilted. It's totally remarkable, miraculous and confusing how precise the tornado was, how it touched some places but not others, how its wind and debris would spare a delicate row of freshly-planted flowers but suck a heavy stained-glass window from its wrought-iron frame. Nature -- God -- is confusing and deliberate, careful and devastating all at once. It's a wonder to behold, even in aftermath.
When I read about other churches, temples and places of worship suffering some sort of devastation -- fire, flood, vandalism -- I always feel a particular pang for them. "Why?" I always ask myself, ask God, "why a place of worship, of all places?" But then, I always come to the conclusion that it makes sense. A church, a temple, a mosque all have built-in communities ready to rally, ready to raise funds, ready to come together in crisis mode to clean up and rebuild. And so it is I feel the same about NHF and its mother church, KCW. There is much healing that needs to be done, and for KCW in particular, a community that needs to be rebuilt itself. Perhaps our little tornado blew through today to knock some sense into some people.
It really could have been so much worse. More windows could have shattered, the roof could have disappeared completely, the building could have been utterly destroyed. Worse, the tornado could have touched down just a few yards over and cut a swath through the residential homes sitting behind NHF. The church is home to so many of us, but at least none of us live there. Everything that happened to NHF/KCW can be fixed, cleaned, polished, rebuilt. Come to think of it ... thank God the storm hit us and not too many others. Better us than them, I think.
(Still, it's scary. I was scared. I was devastated, even viewing and understanding that in the grand scheme of things, in light of other storm potentials, what touched down in our neighborhood was small fry. But NHF, so reliable and strong and ever-present, looked fragile in the night light, covered in leaves and sticks and debris, wrapped in yellow fire-department tape. I repeat that I'm glad the tornado hit the church and not the homes around it; I'm glad no one was hurt and that lives can still go on, for the most part as usual. I'm also glad that the damage was so minimal; really, it was. Even so ...)
***
Really, the worst thing about today -- millions of dollars in business loss and repair-work aside -- is seeing on the news that another hard-hit place is a street just one over from where NHF stands. Lots of Hispanic immigrants -- most, probably illegal, or just freshly legal -- and low-income families live on this street. The television footage of their homes -- trees atop houses and cars, downed power lines running up and down the street -- made me think of the people who live there. People without money to just write a check for clean-up or repairs. People probably without a great deal of insurance coverage. People who are not in a position to freely call their local authorities for help or advice. People who are not able to communicate easily with the power authority, the cable company, the police department.
It always seems to be the case -- I could go on and on about what I've learned and observed about this socio-economic phenomenon -- that the poorest and most underserved people live in the most devastated and disaster-prone areas. Well-to-do people can live on higher ground, on larger plots of land, away from a stormy seashore. They -- we -- can landscape their lawns so that trees lie far enough away from the houses to pose no real danger. They -- we -- can afford to build houses on stilts, to sit high above potential flood waters. Their houses are far enough apart from each other so that tornadoes can wind their way between homes, instead of right through them. But for everyone else ... thus was the ninth ward of New Orleans; thus was our neck of the woods today.
Yeah, maybe it's just bad luck. After all, a tornado can't tell the difference in different people's incomes. But the visual image confronting me on television tonight ... well, it did just that. It confronted me. I wish I could do something about it -- buy insurance for everyone, build everyone nice houses, get everyone a green card, teach everyone English and equip them all with the confidence needed to negotiate aid routes.
Hmmm. I come to no conclusion. I'm just thinking about all this, is all. Yeah, I know I was not really near the storm today; heck, I didn't even know two tornadoes touched down around here until Mabel told me about them. I missed all the good stuff, remember? But things like this -- weird, eerie, scary things like this -- make me think about things. All sorts of things ...
***
I go to bed tonight, finally, with so many prayers on my lips. Funny ... this morning, I woke up praying for myself, for my needs and my desires, for guidance of my life and thoughts.
I end the day prostrate before the Father of Creation, thanking Him for keeping us -- all of us -- safe; being grateful for fantastic emergency response crews and systems; beseeching Him to show His mercy and power upon those who are without power, air-conditioning, food, roofs or homes tonight; and wondering about the goal of His sovereign plan in the events of today. What are we to learn from today? How are we to help and care for each other? And how am I to turn all of this back to Him as praise?
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord.
We swung by NHF tonight, long after the cops and crewmen and journalists and gawkers had gone home to bed. It was eerie, surreal, other-worldly.
One of the panes of the front stained-glass window is gone; apparently, it was just sucked out of its frame and ended up as a shattered, tangled mess down the block. There are things on the roof that don't naturally belong there; there are parts of the roof missing that should be there. The church van is smooshed; a car parked in front of the van is destroyed. Twisted -- and yes, now I know what it looks like when newspaper stories report "twisted tree branches" -- tree branches and portions of tree trunks lay flung about the church driveway. Entire tops of huge oak and maple trees rest against the church building. The solid iron railing is pulled and wrung away from its posts. There is a hole in the roof, maybe more than one.
But the cross over the rear entrance door is intact and hanging straight. The newly-installed front steps are just as sturdy and pretty as they were the day the stones were laid. The flowers lining the front walk are completely untouched; their stems are unbowed and the petals are not battened nor wilted. It's totally remarkable, miraculous and confusing how precise the tornado was, how it touched some places but not others, how its wind and debris would spare a delicate row of freshly-planted flowers but suck a heavy stained-glass window from its wrought-iron frame. Nature -- God -- is confusing and deliberate, careful and devastating all at once. It's a wonder to behold, even in aftermath.
When I read about other churches, temples and places of worship suffering some sort of devastation -- fire, flood, vandalism -- I always feel a particular pang for them. "Why?" I always ask myself, ask God, "why a place of worship, of all places?" But then, I always come to the conclusion that it makes sense. A church, a temple, a mosque all have built-in communities ready to rally, ready to raise funds, ready to come together in crisis mode to clean up and rebuild. And so it is I feel the same about NHF and its mother church, KCW. There is much healing that needs to be done, and for KCW in particular, a community that needs to be rebuilt itself. Perhaps our little tornado blew through today to knock some sense into some people.
It really could have been so much worse. More windows could have shattered, the roof could have disappeared completely, the building could have been utterly destroyed. Worse, the tornado could have touched down just a few yards over and cut a swath through the residential homes sitting behind NHF. The church is home to so many of us, but at least none of us live there. Everything that happened to NHF/KCW can be fixed, cleaned, polished, rebuilt. Come to think of it ... thank God the storm hit us and not too many others. Better us than them, I think.
(Still, it's scary. I was scared. I was devastated, even viewing and understanding that in the grand scheme of things, in light of other storm potentials, what touched down in our neighborhood was small fry. But NHF, so reliable and strong and ever-present, looked fragile in the night light, covered in leaves and sticks and debris, wrapped in yellow fire-department tape. I repeat that I'm glad the tornado hit the church and not the homes around it; I'm glad no one was hurt and that lives can still go on, for the most part as usual. I'm also glad that the damage was so minimal; really, it was. Even so ...)
***
Really, the worst thing about today -- millions of dollars in business loss and repair-work aside -- is seeing on the news that another hard-hit place is a street just one over from where NHF stands. Lots of Hispanic immigrants -- most, probably illegal, or just freshly legal -- and low-income families live on this street. The television footage of their homes -- trees atop houses and cars, downed power lines running up and down the street -- made me think of the people who live there. People without money to just write a check for clean-up or repairs. People probably without a great deal of insurance coverage. People who are not in a position to freely call their local authorities for help or advice. People who are not able to communicate easily with the power authority, the cable company, the police department.
It always seems to be the case -- I could go on and on about what I've learned and observed about this socio-economic phenomenon -- that the poorest and most underserved people live in the most devastated and disaster-prone areas. Well-to-do people can live on higher ground, on larger plots of land, away from a stormy seashore. They -- we -- can landscape their lawns so that trees lie far enough away from the houses to pose no real danger. They -- we -- can afford to build houses on stilts, to sit high above potential flood waters. Their houses are far enough apart from each other so that tornadoes can wind their way between homes, instead of right through them. But for everyone else ... thus was the ninth ward of New Orleans; thus was our neck of the woods today.
Yeah, maybe it's just bad luck. After all, a tornado can't tell the difference in different people's incomes. But the visual image confronting me on television tonight ... well, it did just that. It confronted me. I wish I could do something about it -- buy insurance for everyone, build everyone nice houses, get everyone a green card, teach everyone English and equip them all with the confidence needed to negotiate aid routes.
Hmmm. I come to no conclusion. I'm just thinking about all this, is all. Yeah, I know I was not really near the storm today; heck, I didn't even know two tornadoes touched down around here until Mabel told me about them. I missed all the good stuff, remember? But things like this -- weird, eerie, scary things like this -- make me think about things. All sorts of things ...
***
I go to bed tonight, finally, with so many prayers on my lips. Funny ... this morning, I woke up praying for myself, for my needs and my desires, for guidance of my life and thoughts.
I end the day prostrate before the Father of Creation, thanking Him for keeping us -- all of us -- safe; being grateful for fantastic emergency response crews and systems; beseeching Him to show His mercy and power upon those who are without power, air-conditioning, food, roofs or homes tonight; and wondering about the goal of His sovereign plan in the events of today. What are we to learn from today? How are we to help and care for each other? And how am I to turn all of this back to Him as praise?
Holy, holy, holy is the Lord.
Wednesday, July 12
NO PLACE LIKE HOME . . .
I always miss the good stuff. No, no, I'm not just being self-pitying: it's really true. Something always beckons me away from the television set during the last four minutes of the show. I always arrive on scene about 30 seconds after the most exciting thing that evening has happened. I always glance in the wrong direction when the most spectacular firework is set off.
And from this afternoon on, I will always be indoors, working on something intensely and ignoring the thunderstorm outside, when two tornadoes blow through town and touch down. Rats.
Not that tornadoes are "good stuff." I say that only because I know that only five people suffered minor injuries, because no one is dead, and because houses and roads appear to be fixable. So given all that ... I can't believe I missed the good stuff again. When does a tornado ever blow through the metro-New York area? NEVER. And I missed it.
I always miss the good stuff. No, no, I'm not just being self-pitying: it's really true. Something always beckons me away from the television set during the last four minutes of the show. I always arrive on scene about 30 seconds after the most exciting thing that evening has happened. I always glance in the wrong direction when the most spectacular firework is set off.
And from this afternoon on, I will always be indoors, working on something intensely and ignoring the thunderstorm outside, when two tornadoes blow through town and touch down. Rats.
Not that tornadoes are "good stuff." I say that only because I know that only five people suffered minor injuries, because no one is dead, and because houses and roads appear to be fixable. So given all that ... I can't believe I missed the good stuff again. When does a tornado ever blow through the metro-New York area? NEVER. And I missed it.
Monday, July 10
WIRED GENERATION . . .
We are a strange bunch: Mabel and Mr. Safety emailed from their honeymoon ... TWICE. Ranger Jay and IYP did the same ... albeit only ONCE. I take Bob everywhere, even to a Floridian spa getaway.
And now, Charlie checks into MC Estoppel from her annual leave-the-kid-at-home-and-spend-quality-time-with-the-hubs vacation.
God bless us, and God bless the Internet.
(And smooches to you in Mexico!)
We are a strange bunch: Mabel and Mr. Safety emailed from their honeymoon ... TWICE. Ranger Jay and IYP did the same ... albeit only ONCE. I take Bob everywhere, even to a Floridian spa getaway.
And now, Charlie checks into MC Estoppel from her annual leave-the-kid-at-home-and-spend-quality-time-with-the-hubs vacation.
God bless us, and God bless the Internet.
(And smooches to you in Mexico!)
Thursday, July 6
NOW THIS IS IRONY, ALANIS . . .
That I should catch up on The Unlimited Mood and find a meme listing life's 10 simple pleasure that I enjoy the most. Today, of all days. Today, my heart has been shattered and the pieces already hardened. It's gonna be real hard to melt them down and put my heart back together again. Life's simple pleasures ... the angry cynic in me wants to say NOTHING in life is simple, and ain't NOTHING about life pleasurable right now. But no ... that would be wrong, morally, and wrong, WRONG. So here's my list of 10 of life's simple pleasures that I enjoy the most:
1. Boboma.
2. Boboma.
3. Boboma
4. Boboma.
5. Boboma.
6. Boboma.
7. Boboma.
8. Boboma.
9. Boboma.
10. Boboma.
Oh, what? That's a ridiculous list? I suppose it is to you, to any objective eye. To me, it's the truth. Sad but true. But here's a less ridiculous list, then ...
1. Driving along unfamiliar streets in surrounding neighborhoods, browsing, exploring, slowing down to ogle a beautiful house, winding around and around and almost getting lost, but recognizing the tree I just passed for the fourth time and then eventually following the power lines back to the highway leading towards home.
2. A really delicious cup of coffee. Whole Foods Kona blend. The coffee served up at MoMA. McDonald's coffee when I'm hitting the road early in the morning. A cuppa or two brewed at home ... especially shared over chats with Boboma.
3. Bold and beautiful splashes of colour. The persimmon hue of my curtains. The stripe of hot pink under my brown sweater. A bird of paradise blooming in the brush. The unique dresser throwing on some dark purple in a sea of blacks. That one handbag, dress, skirt, pair of shoes, that makes me feel like hot sh*t.
4. My J.Crew jeans. Ahhhhhhhhhh, soft.
5. Watering my plants. I only have five, and one is already dead I think, but I water it anyway because it hasn't ACTUALLY fallen over in death. It's just sort of ... perma-brown. But I love watering them, feeling that I am giving them life, watching them perk up. It makes me feel that I am good at taking care of something, caring for something other than myself.
6. Flossing. It just feels good.
7. Korean food. I'm always in the mood for it. ALWAYS. One day the rice, the next day the noodle, the next day the jigae, the next day the barbecue, the next day the spice, the next day the soup, etc. etc. etc. Most of it is simple. All of it is pleasure.
8. The AJAs. Words can't describe the pleasure of being in these women's company. They don't laugh at me when I cry; only when I spew food out of my mouth. They don't judge me when I confess; only when I do my hair wrong. They don't ignore, withhold, discourage, misinform, lead astray, humiliate, press down. They only encourage, listen, give generously, welcome, lift up, smile, speak honestly. Nothing about them is simple, but it's all pleasure, all the time.
9. Being with God. The simplest of all things in this life, and yet such simplicity can restore my soul, heal my deepest wounds, speak wisdom into a stubborn and prideful mind, and move a cynical and pessimistic heart. And such simplicity has saved me. What greater pleasure then?
10. Boboma.
That I should catch up on The Unlimited Mood and find a meme listing life's 10 simple pleasure that I enjoy the most. Today, of all days. Today, my heart has been shattered and the pieces already hardened. It's gonna be real hard to melt them down and put my heart back together again. Life's simple pleasures ... the angry cynic in me wants to say NOTHING in life is simple, and ain't NOTHING about life pleasurable right now. But no ... that would be wrong, morally, and wrong, WRONG. So here's my list of 10 of life's simple pleasures that I enjoy the most:
1. Boboma.
2. Boboma.
3. Boboma
4. Boboma.
5. Boboma.
6. Boboma.
7. Boboma.
8. Boboma.
9. Boboma.
10. Boboma.
Oh, what? That's a ridiculous list? I suppose it is to you, to any objective eye. To me, it's the truth. Sad but true. But here's a less ridiculous list, then ...
1. Driving along unfamiliar streets in surrounding neighborhoods, browsing, exploring, slowing down to ogle a beautiful house, winding around and around and almost getting lost, but recognizing the tree I just passed for the fourth time and then eventually following the power lines back to the highway leading towards home.
2. A really delicious cup of coffee. Whole Foods Kona blend. The coffee served up at MoMA. McDonald's coffee when I'm hitting the road early in the morning. A cuppa or two brewed at home ... especially shared over chats with Boboma.
3. Bold and beautiful splashes of colour. The persimmon hue of my curtains. The stripe of hot pink under my brown sweater. A bird of paradise blooming in the brush. The unique dresser throwing on some dark purple in a sea of blacks. That one handbag, dress, skirt, pair of shoes, that makes me feel like hot sh*t.
4. My J.Crew jeans. Ahhhhhhhhhh, soft.
5. Watering my plants. I only have five, and one is already dead I think, but I water it anyway because it hasn't ACTUALLY fallen over in death. It's just sort of ... perma-brown. But I love watering them, feeling that I am giving them life, watching them perk up. It makes me feel that I am good at taking care of something, caring for something other than myself.
6. Flossing. It just feels good.
7. Korean food. I'm always in the mood for it. ALWAYS. One day the rice, the next day the noodle, the next day the jigae, the next day the barbecue, the next day the spice, the next day the soup, etc. etc. etc. Most of it is simple. All of it is pleasure.
8. The AJAs. Words can't describe the pleasure of being in these women's company. They don't laugh at me when I cry; only when I spew food out of my mouth. They don't judge me when I confess; only when I do my hair wrong. They don't ignore, withhold, discourage, misinform, lead astray, humiliate, press down. They only encourage, listen, give generously, welcome, lift up, smile, speak honestly. Nothing about them is simple, but it's all pleasure, all the time.
9. Being with God. The simplest of all things in this life, and yet such simplicity can restore my soul, heal my deepest wounds, speak wisdom into a stubborn and prideful mind, and move a cynical and pessimistic heart. And such simplicity has saved me. What greater pleasure then?
10. Boboma.
Tuesday, July 4
URGH . . .
They did it. Those nuts really did it.
North Korea fired two short-range missiles this afternoon.
Everyone's saying, "Well, at least it wasn't The Big One, the long-range missile we were all afraid of, the one that might hit the United States."
Oh goodie. Who cares about the rest of the world. As long as those crazies can't get us ... well, phew, then.
They did it. Those nuts really did it.
North Korea fired two short-range missiles this afternoon.
Everyone's saying, "Well, at least it wasn't The Big One, the long-range missile we were all afraid of, the one that might hit the United States."
Oh goodie. Who cares about the rest of the world. As long as those crazies can't get us ... well, phew, then.
Saturday, July 1
THE FAMILY THAT GIVES TOGETHER . . .
From today's New York Times, a warm article about the children of Warren Buffett and what impact they might have on the world, given the billions of dollars they have received to run their various foundations ... from a very early age, don't we all imagine what we might do if we had $100, $100,000, $1,000,000? And just last week, the question was posed to me: What would you do if you had $31 billion -- THIRTY-ONE BILLION DOLLARS?
My goodness, what WOULD I do? The possibilities are endless, the money seems endless, yet when I sit down to make a list, my brain jams up. It's just too much ... yet for the Buffett family, it's not. Who knows what their personal lives are like. Who knows what their deepest motivations are. Who knows if they mean what they say. But my eyes see what they see and my ears hear what they hear. These people, and people like them (thank you, Bill and Melinda Gates) have the ability and the heart, apparently, to change the world. Would that we all did ...
BUFFETT CHILDREN EMERGE AS A FORCE IN CHARITY
By JEFF BAILEY
Published: July 2, 2006
DECATUR, Ill., June 28 — The three middle-aged children of Warren E. Buffett watched along with the rest of the country last week as their father, the celebrated investor from Omaha, told the world that he would pass the bulk of his $40 billion personal fortune to the charitable foundation of Bill Gates, a fellow billionaire, and his wife, Melinda.
But Susie, Howard and Peter Buffett — who, like their self-effacing father seem little affected by money — spent the week focusing not on what they might have received. Instead, the siblings said in interviews, they were already at work trying to figure out how to manage a gift from their father valued at about $1 billion each that will go to their own charitable foundations.
That will propel them, along with a fourth and larger foundation named for their late mother, into the top ranks of philanthropy — dwarfed, to be sure, by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and the $60 billion or more endowment from the Gates and Buffett fortunes.
The younger Buffetts, given their current interests, could emerge as powerful forces in the areas of early childhood education, safe drinking water for poor countries and the well-being of Native Americans.
The foundation named for their mother — Warren Buffett and two of his children are on the board — will roughly double in size to about $5 billion. It will be able to greatly increase spending on birth control and on making abortions available, a cause supported by both Warren Buffett and his late wife, Susan Thompson Buffett. He has spoken relatively little about the issue in public, and neither did she.
The Buffett children have long been aware of their father's contempt for inherited wealth. "He signaled early and often to his children what his intentions were. They built their lives accordingly," said Sherry S. Barrat, president of personal financial services at the Northern Trust Company, a big Chicago bank that manages money for many wealthy families.
Indeed, Howard Buffett said, "It was always clear we were not going to get a lot of money. If my dad said, 'either you can have $50 million a year personally or $50 million a year for the foundation,' I'd put it in the foundation. What would you do with $50 million if you didn't give it away?"
All of Warren Buffett's gifts are planned to be stretched out over about 20 years. (Warren Buffett declined to be interviewed for this article).
The Buffett siblings said they support the large gift, valued at about $31 billion, to the Gates' foundation. "Gates is geared up, doing all sorts of worldwide stuff," Howard Buffett said. "They're prepared to handle it."
Like their father, who despite his wealth could easily pass for an insurance man (which in the simplest terms he is), the younger Buffetts stand in stark contrast with so many other children of wealth.
They live comfortably, though not lavishly. They get some money from their father. And they appear to be working hard at their foundations and at other pursuits. In interviews, they returned again and again to their upbringing.
"When I was little, every night my dad rocked me to sleep and sang 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow,' " said Susie Buffett, the oldest, who is 52. She lives 10 blocks from her father in Omaha and still calls him Daddy, she said.
"I just think of him as my dad," said Howard Buffett, 51. Howard looks like his father, sporting big 1970's-style glasses and the beginnings of a sandy-colored comb-over. The son of a technophobe, Howard said he won't touch e-mail. He lives here in Decatur, near an 800-acre farm he owns, and spends much of his time traveling the world to photograph wildlife and poor people.
Peter Buffett, 48, is a new age musician and composer who plays the keyboard. He has just moved from Milwaukee to New York City, where he finds people are far more impressed by wealth than in his native Midwest.
His mother was an occasional nightclub singer, but he credits his father, too, for his musical success. "He would always sing and whistle around the house," Peter Buffett said, who went to Standford for about a year and a half.
As children and young adults in the 1960's and 70's, the siblings said, their father was not yet famous. "We did not grow up with Warren being No. 2 on the list" of richest Americans, Susie Buffett said. "We grew up in a normal situation."
The family housed high school foreign-exchange students. As teenagers 18 months apart, Susie and Howard fought over the family car.
The investing genius's children went off to college and all three dropped out before graduating. "I had a great run in high school, academically, and then I got to college and just struggled," said Howard, who spent one year at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, S.D., and one year at University of California, Irvine. When he told his parents he was quitting school, he said, "neither of them was very happy about it."
Howard loved heavy machinery. He bought a bulldozer and began doing residential excavation work around Omaha. His father got him a job at See's Candies, a Berkshire-owned company, in California. There, Howard met his future wife, Devon, who already had four daughters, and they all moved back to Omaha. "I missed the Midwest," he said. They also had a son together.
Howard is the only Republican in the Buffett family, he said. Asked who is the most liberal of the Buffetts, Howard rolled his eyes. "They're all liberal," he said.
Susie initially majored in home economics. "If we didn't have foundations to run, Howie would farm. I would be sewing, knitting and quilting," she said.
She dropped out of the University of California, Irvine, just shy of an undergraduate degree because she was enjoying work as an administrative assistant, making $525 a month. "I thought, boy, it just doesn't get any better than this."
She moved to Washington, working at magazines, initially as an assistant. There she met her husband, Allen Greenberg, a lawyer for Public Citizen, a liberal public health advocacy group. Warren Buffett? "I had never heard of him," Mr. Greenberg said in an interview.
The business mogul and public interest lawyer, however, came to admire each other. Susie said her husband told her in the late 1980's, " 'I think the smartest, most interesting person you could work for is your dad, but I don't want you to tell him that.' "
Mr. Buffett, she said, in turn asked his daughter, " 'If Allen could do anything, what would it be?' " Soon, the couple moved to Omaha and Mr. Greenberg went to work at the Susan Thompson Buffett Foundation.
Mr. Greenberg and Susie Buffett divorced, amicably, about 10 years ago. They have two children. Susie currently runs her foundation and serves on the board of the trust named for her mom.
Warren Buffett's original plan was to leave most of his fortune to that foundation. He expected his wife to outlive him and that she would oversee the charitable work. But she died in 2004.
That same year, the foundation gave away about $21 million. Planned Parenthood and some of its local chapters received large grants. So did some other providers of, and advocates for, reproductive services, including abortion. The foundation also seeks to finance nuclear nonproliferation efforts. But it has found few chances for nongovernment entities to exert influence in that field, Mr. Greenberg said.
He declined to comment on grants involving birth control. The foundation is wary of anti-abortion sentiment. Pampered Chef, owned by Berkshire, was the target of a boycott organized by anti-abortion advocates displeased that some Berkshire contributions went to the abortion-rights foundation. So, in 2003, Mr. Buffett ended the charitable contribution program at Berkshire.
Mr. Buffett, however, is giving that foundation almost three times as much as he is giving each foundation run by his children. He did not explain why. And it also has $2 billion to $2.5 billion from the estate of Mrs. Buffett. Its gifts could increase to more than $200 million a year.
Peter Buffett and his wife, Jennifer, 40, run his foundation together, and they are slowly educating themselves on what it will take to run a bigger institution. They are proud of their early-education grants, following his sister's lead, and of a small grant that helped a Canadian Indian tribe recover one of its totem poles that ended up in Sweden.
They plan to consult with philanthropy experts, Bill and Melinda Gates included. "We're going to do great things," Jennifer Buffett said, citing basic human needs like clean water, education, health care and nutrition. As for specifics, "ask us in a year," she said.
All three siblings may find a $1 billion foundation significantly more work than one a tenth that size. "It takes some work. They're going to have to find some staff to help them," said Michael Cawley, president of the Samuel Roberts Noble Foundation in Ardmore, Okla., which has about $1 billion in funds.
To pursue its founder's goal of improving agriculture, the Noble Foundation employs more than 300 people and directly conducts research. By closely managing operations, "our comfort is higher," Mr. Cawley said.
The Buffett children each said they plan to operate with just a handful of staff members, giving to groups that then directly perform charitable work. Their father, after all, runs one of the country's biggest corporations with an office staff in Omaha of fewer than two dozen.
From today's New York Times, a warm article about the children of Warren Buffett and what impact they might have on the world, given the billions of dollars they have received to run their various foundations ... from a very early age, don't we all imagine what we might do if we had $100, $100,000, $1,000,000? And just last week, the question was posed to me: What would you do if you had $31 billion -- THIRTY-ONE BILLION DOLLARS?
My goodness, what WOULD I do? The possibilities are endless, the money seems endless, yet when I sit down to make a list, my brain jams up. It's just too much ... yet for the Buffett family, it's not. Who knows what their personal lives are like. Who knows what their deepest motivations are. Who knows if they mean what they say. But my eyes see what they see and my ears hear what they hear. These people, and people like them (thank you, Bill and Melinda Gates) have the ability and the heart, apparently, to change the world. Would that we all did ...
By JEFF BAILEY
Published: July 2, 2006
DECATUR, Ill., June 28 — The three middle-aged children of Warren E. Buffett watched along with the rest of the country last week as their father, the celebrated investor from Omaha, told the world that he would pass the bulk of his $40 billion personal fortune to the charitable foundation of Bill Gates, a fellow billionaire, and his wife, Melinda.
But Susie, Howard and Peter Buffett — who, like their self-effacing father seem little affected by money — spent the week focusing not on what they might have received. Instead, the siblings said in interviews, they were already at work trying to figure out how to manage a gift from their father valued at about $1 billion each that will go to their own charitable foundations.
That will propel them, along with a fourth and larger foundation named for their late mother, into the top ranks of philanthropy — dwarfed, to be sure, by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and the $60 billion or more endowment from the Gates and Buffett fortunes.
The younger Buffetts, given their current interests, could emerge as powerful forces in the areas of early childhood education, safe drinking water for poor countries and the well-being of Native Americans.
The foundation named for their mother — Warren Buffett and two of his children are on the board — will roughly double in size to about $5 billion. It will be able to greatly increase spending on birth control and on making abortions available, a cause supported by both Warren Buffett and his late wife, Susan Thompson Buffett. He has spoken relatively little about the issue in public, and neither did she.
The Buffett children have long been aware of their father's contempt for inherited wealth. "He signaled early and often to his children what his intentions were. They built their lives accordingly," said Sherry S. Barrat, president of personal financial services at the Northern Trust Company, a big Chicago bank that manages money for many wealthy families.
Indeed, Howard Buffett said, "It was always clear we were not going to get a lot of money. If my dad said, 'either you can have $50 million a year personally or $50 million a year for the foundation,' I'd put it in the foundation. What would you do with $50 million if you didn't give it away?"
All of Warren Buffett's gifts are planned to be stretched out over about 20 years. (Warren Buffett declined to be interviewed for this article).
The Buffett siblings said they support the large gift, valued at about $31 billion, to the Gates' foundation. "Gates is geared up, doing all sorts of worldwide stuff," Howard Buffett said. "They're prepared to handle it."
Like their father, who despite his wealth could easily pass for an insurance man (which in the simplest terms he is), the younger Buffetts stand in stark contrast with so many other children of wealth.
They live comfortably, though not lavishly. They get some money from their father. And they appear to be working hard at their foundations and at other pursuits. In interviews, they returned again and again to their upbringing.
"When I was little, every night my dad rocked me to sleep and sang 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow,' " said Susie Buffett, the oldest, who is 52. She lives 10 blocks from her father in Omaha and still calls him Daddy, she said.
"I just think of him as my dad," said Howard Buffett, 51. Howard looks like his father, sporting big 1970's-style glasses and the beginnings of a sandy-colored comb-over. The son of a technophobe, Howard said he won't touch e-mail. He lives here in Decatur, near an 800-acre farm he owns, and spends much of his time traveling the world to photograph wildlife and poor people.
Peter Buffett, 48, is a new age musician and composer who plays the keyboard. He has just moved from Milwaukee to New York City, where he finds people are far more impressed by wealth than in his native Midwest.
His mother was an occasional nightclub singer, but he credits his father, too, for his musical success. "He would always sing and whistle around the house," Peter Buffett said, who went to Standford for about a year and a half.
As children and young adults in the 1960's and 70's, the siblings said, their father was not yet famous. "We did not grow up with Warren being No. 2 on the list" of richest Americans, Susie Buffett said. "We grew up in a normal situation."
The family housed high school foreign-exchange students. As teenagers 18 months apart, Susie and Howard fought over the family car.
The investing genius's children went off to college and all three dropped out before graduating. "I had a great run in high school, academically, and then I got to college and just struggled," said Howard, who spent one year at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, S.D., and one year at University of California, Irvine. When he told his parents he was quitting school, he said, "neither of them was very happy about it."
Howard loved heavy machinery. He bought a bulldozer and began doing residential excavation work around Omaha. His father got him a job at See's Candies, a Berkshire-owned company, in California. There, Howard met his future wife, Devon, who already had four daughters, and they all moved back to Omaha. "I missed the Midwest," he said. They also had a son together.
Howard is the only Republican in the Buffett family, he said. Asked who is the most liberal of the Buffetts, Howard rolled his eyes. "They're all liberal," he said.
Susie initially majored in home economics. "If we didn't have foundations to run, Howie would farm. I would be sewing, knitting and quilting," she said.
She dropped out of the University of California, Irvine, just shy of an undergraduate degree because she was enjoying work as an administrative assistant, making $525 a month. "I thought, boy, it just doesn't get any better than this."
She moved to Washington, working at magazines, initially as an assistant. There she met her husband, Allen Greenberg, a lawyer for Public Citizen, a liberal public health advocacy group. Warren Buffett? "I had never heard of him," Mr. Greenberg said in an interview.
The business mogul and public interest lawyer, however, came to admire each other. Susie said her husband told her in the late 1980's, " 'I think the smartest, most interesting person you could work for is your dad, but I don't want you to tell him that.' "
Mr. Buffett, she said, in turn asked his daughter, " 'If Allen could do anything, what would it be?' " Soon, the couple moved to Omaha and Mr. Greenberg went to work at the Susan Thompson Buffett Foundation.
Mr. Greenberg and Susie Buffett divorced, amicably, about 10 years ago. They have two children. Susie currently runs her foundation and serves on the board of the trust named for her mom.
Warren Buffett's original plan was to leave most of his fortune to that foundation. He expected his wife to outlive him and that she would oversee the charitable work. But she died in 2004.
That same year, the foundation gave away about $21 million. Planned Parenthood and some of its local chapters received large grants. So did some other providers of, and advocates for, reproductive services, including abortion. The foundation also seeks to finance nuclear nonproliferation efforts. But it has found few chances for nongovernment entities to exert influence in that field, Mr. Greenberg said.
He declined to comment on grants involving birth control. The foundation is wary of anti-abortion sentiment. Pampered Chef, owned by Berkshire, was the target of a boycott organized by anti-abortion advocates displeased that some Berkshire contributions went to the abortion-rights foundation. So, in 2003, Mr. Buffett ended the charitable contribution program at Berkshire.
Mr. Buffett, however, is giving that foundation almost three times as much as he is giving each foundation run by his children. He did not explain why. And it also has $2 billion to $2.5 billion from the estate of Mrs. Buffett. Its gifts could increase to more than $200 million a year.
Peter Buffett and his wife, Jennifer, 40, run his foundation together, and they are slowly educating themselves on what it will take to run a bigger institution. They are proud of their early-education grants, following his sister's lead, and of a small grant that helped a Canadian Indian tribe recover one of its totem poles that ended up in Sweden.
They plan to consult with philanthropy experts, Bill and Melinda Gates included. "We're going to do great things," Jennifer Buffett said, citing basic human needs like clean water, education, health care and nutrition. As for specifics, "ask us in a year," she said.
All three siblings may find a $1 billion foundation significantly more work than one a tenth that size. "It takes some work. They're going to have to find some staff to help them," said Michael Cawley, president of the Samuel Roberts Noble Foundation in Ardmore, Okla., which has about $1 billion in funds.
To pursue its founder's goal of improving agriculture, the Noble Foundation employs more than 300 people and directly conducts research. By closely managing operations, "our comfort is higher," Mr. Cawley said.
The Buffett children each said they plan to operate with just a handful of staff members, giving to groups that then directly perform charitable work. Their father, after all, runs one of the country's biggest corporations with an office staff in Omaha of fewer than two dozen.