Archive for April, 2009

I’ve found that a rather odd habit of mine is to play out bizarre hypothetical situations in my mind, a la the old school dramedy Ally McBeal.  I’m sure that I’ve already lost many of you who just read that sentence, so I’ll explain the best way I can: anecdotally.

At my last job, there used to be a lady that worked on my row who would always say the same exact thing every time she left.  Each and every day, like clockwork, she would pack up her bags, look over at another colleague of mine and me and say, “well, I’m leaving you guys in charge.”  It’s as though the same facetious farewell failed to lose its (un)funny luster to her because, you know, she didn’t really have any power and she wasn’t our manager.  Har har har.

I didn’t fault her for continually repeating this each and every day; after all, all of us have our own little quirks.  The whole purpose of this anecdotal segue was to point out mine.  And also, maybe she just had the short term memory of a lobotomized goldfish.  

Anyway, though this did grate on me a bit, I started thinking about all the outrageous things that I could say in response (but, wisely, did not).  Some of these included:

“Great, and as newly appointed boss, you don’t have to come in again.  Ever” …

“Hooray, the tyranny finally ends!” … 

“Extended vacation for everybody!” … 

… and of course, just staring at her blankly.  All of these responses, of course, are equally unfunny.  ButI can’t help but imagine tinging my remarks with a bit of snarkiness.

The reason I bring this up is because I started thinking about how boring I am whenever a friend/acquaintance asks me “what’s new.”  I end up, inevitably, fumbling around for an appropriately timed and neutral response that wouldn’t put me in an awkward situation.  Things like “oh you know, same old same old” or the much used “as always, work hard play hard.”  

Much like the first conversational conundrums I faced when I first entered the real world, I’ve found that my responses to queries on life has plateaued.  I don’t eagerly talk about my upcoming graduation, or the new car that I purchased, or even landing a brand new job.  It’s just - same old, same old.

So I’ve decided - from now on, if someone asks me “what’s new in your life?” I’m going to do it mad libs style following this form:

Things are (adjective). But lately (noun) has been (verb)ing me a lot.  Even so, I feel (emotion), and I (verb) every day. I’m (verb)ing (noun) in the next (measure of time) so that will be (adjective). Oh, and (number)(noun)(verb)ed me at (measure of time).  Isn’t that (adjective)?  How about you?

Oh, and in case you were wondering - yes, you may use this form as well.

I feel like most parents love, secretly, to scare the bejesus out of their children. It’s true. We’re all controlled by the involuntary sense of fight or flight.  Naturally, a simple way to tell a bumbling new-human how to NOT hurt themselves is…scare them. Of course, may parents seem to take this line of logic and apply it to every minutiae of life. Some make sense, like look both ways before crossing the street (or you’ll get run over — okay, I get that). Others…not so much.

For example, here were a few things told to my friends and me growing up:

- Don’t sleep without a blanket or you’ll catch a chill to your bones and die
- Don’t be a brat or wolves will come and eat you so you’ll die
- Finish every granule of rice or you’ll have to eat a maggot when you die to replace that wasted food.
- Don’t drink cold things too much or you’ll never bear children and be alone. All alone. (And die).

Of course, the one old wives tale that my mom ALWAYS harped on me for was to not wear too few layers out in the cold. Because, you know, germs are caught through chilly breezes. However, after having dinner this evening and shivering a bit…I now have a slight headache and don’t feel too great.

Please tell me this was a parental disciplinary remark, and not true! I don’t want wolves to get me and I love ice cream.

I’ve noticed a rather peculiar thing lately: for some reason, a good 99% of the “comments” that are left for me to moderate are spam. Spam, spam, spam. Basically nonsense words with link that would probably open the floodgates to every possible digital disease known to date.

I was a little incredulous at this discovery. But then, I realized something. Why should I be surprised? Spam happens to proliferate my life every day in different ways. I get random phone calls from an automated message that warns me that my car warranty is about to expire (and this is the LAST NOTICE!!!) even though I have a nonexistent car. I get mailed letters from major companies offering me cash*, gifts*, and other free* merchandise. There’s spam filters for my email inbox, and spam messages from people on Twitter. Even people on street corners like to hand me fliers offering me “discounts” to their store (real life spam).

Ironically, recently I had a bet with some friend as to who would cave first and eat a spam taco. For the record, it was not me. But I still ended up eating a spam taco — figures.

Shouldn’t I just embrace all the spamminess that will inevitably follow me throughout my life? Or should I fruitlessly fight the spammers by calling, emailing, and writing to every person and asking them to stop contacting me and to take me off their lists?

For now, I guess the best I could do is to write a blog post to talk about how much I hate spam even though I’m practically swimming in it. At least I learned to look on the bright side of things - so far, they haven’t been able to infiltrate my dreams Futurama-style. Yet.

*for the exchange of my soul

Once every blue moon or so when I get the inkling to pick up a few periodicals for a flight or just for fun, I somehow decide in my wee little brain that it would be good for me to read something … intellectual.  So, in my self-deluded and occasional attempt at force feeding the equivalent of veggies for my brain, I decide to purchase “The Economist” or “The New Yorker.”  Of course, I do end up reading a few of the articles even though quite a few of them are merely skimmed through superficially.  All the while, in the back of my mind I can’t help but yearn for that trashy Cosmo that tells me whether or not my partner and I are the perfect match.  I must know this, I do.

Recently, in one of my bouts of forced self-progression as a more intellectual human being, I picked up “The New Yorker” and read a satirical piece about things Made In The USA.  It listed an abundant amount of ironically foreign-made products that proudly tout AMERICA!! … like the little plastic USA flags you can pick up for the Fourth of July.  Where were those made?  Yup, you guessed it: China.  

I mentioned this piece to a friend that visited recently, and she informed me that she heard a story on NPR in the same vein as the aforementioned New Yorker piece.  This story, on the other hand, listed a multitude of American products and inventions that we can be proud; these inventions are are truly home-grown.  Sure, we might not have invented gun powder, or basketball (thanks, Canada)…but we made THIS:

Now we no longer live in a world where we fear our faces being dried with the same cloth that touched our tuckus.

You’re welcome, World.

Regards,
America

Last weekend, I was driving back from a trip with some friends when I started talking about church and religion with one friend.  We started reminiscing about our own experiences with church and how we struggled (and still struggle) with some of the facets of religion.  Another friend of mine asked me if I would ever raise my hypothetical non-existent children in the church.  

I gave this some thought, and my answer was … yes.  If there was one thing in my life that I realize I have taken for granted, it’s the fact that church isn’t merely a weekly obligation that is meant to intrude on the weekend of relaxation.  It’s a family.  Although I do have my own personal beliefs and I do struggle at times, every time I go to church I gain a sense of peace.  It’s nice to sit there through a mass and reflect on the past week, and to reflect on greater issues in life.  Not only that, but I liked the fact that I can go back to my church in Dallas and feel as though I was reuniting with a family.  There are people that have seen me grow through the many stages of my life — and likewise, there are many people I have seen who were once babies but now going to high school, college, and beyond.  (Yikes).

I do believe that religion, spirituality, and a core belief system is the personal journey for each person.  And I also do believe that there are many people who are great people even without a belief in God, and there are fantastic friends of mine who don’t go to church.  But though we all have our own opinions about it, I know that I am thankful that there are churches and families that continue to exist for the benefit of others.  Although some people look at these organizations with a critical eye, these places do offer a sense of community and unity.  And it’s wonderful to know that there are those out there who are there to welcome strangers.

I think my love for musicals started at a very young age.  I remember taking trips with my mom and brother to the local library and perusing through the VCR cassette collection.  We would always check out one or two and watch them on our weekends.  (On a separate note, who goes to local libraries anymore?  How sad.  I should get a library card).  

I first got hooked with The Sound of Music, then subsequent films like My Fair Lady, The King and I, South Pacific, Hello, Dolly!, Sweet Charity…and the list goes on.  Much like the doe-eyed Wall-E, I would sit on the couch absolutely entranced as I watched the film renditions of these famous musicals.  

Recently, I had the fortune to catch a showing of the musical Wicked with a group of friends.  After three hours of lights, sounds, sets, dancing and more - I was floating on cloud ten and a half.   And I realized that I am thankful and happy for musicals.  Not only are they a key component of my childhood, but they remind me of something I absolutely love and miss in my life: music.  I couldn’t help but run home and listen to the soundtrack over and over, and I sang aloud in my apartment to my heart’s content.  Life just seems so much nicer when there’s a little music there to sing along to.

I know a lot of people say that they are evil. And a lot of people point to them as the reason for their health problems. But truth be told, I’m thankful for fast food joints. Sure, it’s pretty awful that there are people out there who are suffering from diabetes and other health conditions. Even though all of these accusations are true, I’m thankful that somebody invented the concept of food made quickly, conveniently, and efficiently.

To me, fast food joints are a modern convenience that should be used with discretion. It’s good to use when we need it. Sometimes, there just isn’t time to make a full dinner. Or maybe the lunch that was packed the night before was accidentally left in the fridge. But really, fast food places are just another reminder that we are fortunate enough where we don’t have to forage and hunt for food. All you need is a few dollars and a local McDonald’s.

One of the assignments that I had quite a few times in my childhood was the task of designing and executing a game. For some reason, teachers felt that this would be a great way to engrain a certain lesson in the malleable minds of their young students. Need to find a way to make sure they know what Bunker Hill is? Make them create a board game!

Even though home made board games are far from entertaining, I find it fascinating how tried and true board games have survived throughout the ages. Chess and checkers, for example, must have been played for years. My friends and I enjoyed a rousing game of Taboo and Apples to Apples. Although these games seem simplistic, it’s amazing that somebody had the creative mind to go out and make it a reality.

Thanks to those creative minds, I have many memories to look back upon very fondly.

I was going to go with some friends to dinner when I realized that my left shoe was missing. A little frantic, I tore around the hotel looking for my lost left shoe. After running up and down the stairs and looking through every nook and cranny, it was determined that my shoe was, indeed, missing in action.

Although it was a minor hassle, I started to think about how important shoes are in our society – and really, how lucky we are that shoes exist. Shoes not only protect us from the hazards that live and exist on the ground, they are another way that we express ourselves. Running shoes protect our feet, dress shoes doll them up. Sandals let our toes breathe and enjoy the warm summer atmosphere, and boots cover us up from the harsh winter cold.

It’s no wonder that some people can’t seem to get enough of shoes.

When I was in school, one of the first things that I thought was absolutely fascinating was the concept of maps. In a way, it was quite baffling how people were able to walk the borders of the coast and actually re-create every curve and protrusion to such intricate detail. I always found it amusing when I would drive across a border, and somehow this mysterious line of demarcation made one bit of soil different from another.

I am thankful for all of the people who spent a great portion of their lives ensuring that every drawn detail was correct. Because of the work and efforts by these cartographers, it’s nice to know that when we really need it we will know where we are in the world.