Good night.
Bad morning.
As we usher in what I hope will be a new era of politics and society in America, several states, including California, just pushed us back into an age of ignorance and what could only be seen as fear and hate.
Californians went to bed last night with the first Black President of the United States. People across the country and the world erupted in celebration and tears. I don't think there is anyone out there who doesn't understand and feel the significance of seeing Barack Obama accept the huge responsibility of being the face and leader of this country.
But, we woke up this morning to find out perpetuating a wrong that so many has tried to fight-- discrimination on the basis of something as basic and unchangeable as the color of one's skin or the reproductive organs we are born with.
It's a hard morning.
I want to celebrate with the same vigor and enthusiasm as last night, but it's hard to knowing that so many people, including many of the people I love and would give my life for, have just been told that they don't deserve a fundamental right-- that it is somehow okay to publicly say that they deserve the rights of a second-class citizen.
I'm thankful for last night... thankful to the people who stood in line for several hours to vote and to the people who canvassed, donated, and lost a lot of sleep to put forward a successful campaign. We have a Democratic President who actually inspires people to care about their government supported by a Democratic House and Senate.
But, I'm more thankful to the people who are going to continue this fight, because as the passage of Prop 8 shows us, it's far from over. People still can be forced to vote against their gut by fear and hatred.
Si se puede!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Seems growing up / Didn't take long / I feel strange, I feel good / I feel better with you
It's amazing how a little paradigm shift can make such a difference in one's life.
This was the weekend I finally did it-- a cathartic cleansing of the bedroom. The final moving boxes have been emptied, three years later, and it felt good to just throw the entire thing out. It's nothing like the 100-thing challenge my friend is doing, but for me, it's a pretty good start.
There is a pile of clean laundry on my bed and a pile of dirty dishes in my sink, but right now, it's great to just enjoy the newness of an old room. Perhaps this will motivate me to reorganize the other parts of my life-- to usher in a new self, from the old pieces.
I'm ready for a real fall... no more Santa Ana winds bringing 90-degree weekdays and firestorms. I want crisp breezes whisking my skirt up for one dangerous moment, orange leaves, and blue skies. I want evenings to be just chilly enough that snuggling into my down comforter with a book is the only perfect thing to do on a Saturday night. I want an excuse to wear long coats and scarves to the office and an ever better excuse to disappear to the park next door during my lunch hour to enjoy them both.
This was the weekend I finally did it-- a cathartic cleansing of the bedroom. The final moving boxes have been emptied, three years later, and it felt good to just throw the entire thing out. It's nothing like the 100-thing challenge my friend is doing, but for me, it's a pretty good start.
There is a pile of clean laundry on my bed and a pile of dirty dishes in my sink, but right now, it's great to just enjoy the newness of an old room. Perhaps this will motivate me to reorganize the other parts of my life-- to usher in a new self, from the old pieces.
I'm ready for a real fall... no more Santa Ana winds bringing 90-degree weekdays and firestorms. I want crisp breezes whisking my skirt up for one dangerous moment, orange leaves, and blue skies. I want evenings to be just chilly enough that snuggling into my down comforter with a book is the only perfect thing to do on a Saturday night. I want an excuse to wear long coats and scarves to the office and an ever better excuse to disappear to the park next door during my lunch hour to enjoy them both.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Rain, rain go away / Come again another day ...
I choose not to celebrate the day that Columbus arrived to North America, bringing with him disease, colonialism, and what could really be considered the end of entire, non-Westernized civilization.
Instead, I choose to celebrate the 50th birthday of a beloved childhood friend...
(And I commend google.com for not buying into this Columbus-Day crap and identifying a much more significant holiday for its splash page graphic.)
I always wanted a stuffed version of this cuddly-marmalade-and-tea-loving lost little bear. Perhaps this is when I fell in love with well-designed coats (look at his little peacoat!) and floppy hats.
Unfortunately, the only coat I had at the time I met Paddington Bear was a bright pink, puffy jacket, that was about two sizes too big (so I could wear it for several years... oh that economic mommy!). I have a diary entry, written in my 3rd-grade scrawl (oversized, bubbly letters, a little slanted, and certainly eager), about that jacket and the Santa Ana winds. It was the only thing keeping me warm during recess during the winds, and the only thing heavy enough to keep me from flying away.
Now, I have lots of coats (and they aren't two sizes too big thankfully). The Santa Ana winds are still blowing, spreading little fire sparks across the southland. I have the protective shell of a well-made Japanese car to keep me from flying away and a lot less recess time. Instead of a Paddington Bear, I have Noah, my little brown bear that's absorbed a lot of laughs and tears since we met in 2003.
Cheers Paddington Bear.
Keep rocking that peacoat.
Instead, I choose to celebrate the 50th birthday of a beloved childhood friend...
(And I commend google.com for not buying into this Columbus-Day crap and identifying a much more significant holiday for its splash page graphic.)I always wanted a stuffed version of this cuddly-marmalade-and-tea-loving lost little bear. Perhaps this is when I fell in love with well-designed coats (look at his little peacoat!) and floppy hats.
Unfortunately, the only coat I had at the time I met Paddington Bear was a bright pink, puffy jacket, that was about two sizes too big (so I could wear it for several years... oh that economic mommy!). I have a diary entry, written in my 3rd-grade scrawl (oversized, bubbly letters, a little slanted, and certainly eager), about that jacket and the Santa Ana winds. It was the only thing keeping me warm during recess during the winds, and the only thing heavy enough to keep me from flying away.
Now, I have lots of coats (and they aren't two sizes too big thankfully). The Santa Ana winds are still blowing, spreading little fire sparks across the southland. I have the protective shell of a well-made Japanese car to keep me from flying away and a lot less recess time. Instead of a Paddington Bear, I have Noah, my little brown bear that's absorbed a lot of laughs and tears since we met in 2003.
Cheers Paddington Bear.
Keep rocking that peacoat.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
I probably should have asked for permission before stealing this, but I figure so long as I keep it anonymous (until the person I stole it from demands I give credit and lunch), it should be okay.
Lovely.
Just lovely.
It is astounding that at this part of the process you still find yourself thinking outside the box of that which you represent. But, what do you fear? Where do you want to go? Whose ideas will you challenge and how much are you willing to give up?
Remember everything about this process because it will never happen to you ever again in your life. You are privileged to know these things and ensure that others can understand the life of multiculturalist movements.
Find answers for others and yourself. I don't want to forget where I am coming from nor who who has been there at the worse moments. Try to love but not fall in love. Learn people's names. Make people smile. Stay humble. Dress calmly. Smell good. Read more.
In more concrete terms, remember this as a moment of concientization about the powers of privilege, the balances of power, the way in which the things you say are perceived. Challenge yourself. Be an intellectual. Be daring.
Recognize that fighting apathy is nearly impossible, and doing so might have to be as complex as the tools needed to manufacture consent.
Be fair. Let go. Grow up.
Honor your father and mother.
Change people's minds.
Live on other people's shoes.
Remember we are a people of advocacy. No flashy promises.
Fight (with a smile on).
Lovely.
Just lovely.
me: what you know about commercial paper?
e: not a whole lot
very similar to cash... or a CD
e: so here's my understanding of commercial paper
me: yah
e: but... if a company like Lehman is unable to make good on the CP when it matures... the value of the CP on the open market suddenly drops significantly
me: so basically...
e: exactly
me: woot woot
e: hooray
e: not a whole lot
very similar to cash... or a CD
why?
me: government purchasing commercial paper to aid in "bail out"
e: so here's my understanding of commercial paper
big name companies, usually financial institutions, use it as a short-term borrowing tool
so think of a company like... Lehman Brothers, for example, issuing something like a 3-month CD
the CD is actually commercial paper... and Lehman leverages the money they get for their operations
so think of a company like... Lehman Brothers, for example, issuing something like a 3-month CD
the CD is actually commercial paper... and Lehman leverages the money they get for their operations
whoever buys the commercial paper (usually big institutional investors like money market funds since CP's are considered relatively low-risk) are due the principal + interest when the CP matures
just like how a CD operates
me: yah
e: but... if a company like Lehman is unable to make good on the CP when it matures... the value of the CP on the open market suddenly drops significantly
which is what happened with all of these firms being over-leveraged and the on-set of our current credit crisis
and alot of these companies rely so much on short-term borrowing
so essentially, the govt wants to step in and buy up these CP's acting as the short-term lender to these companies
and then there are asset-backed CP's... which are CP's that have a pool of asset-backed securities used as collateral... mtge crisis has rendered the asset-backed securities worthless
meaning that those ABCP's are 'guaranteed' by worthless securities
me: so basically...
banks have no money.
banks going bankrupt.
government = new bank.
e: exactly
me: woot woot
COMMUNISM HERE WE COME!
e: hooray
let's move to Canada
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Still can feel you kiss me love / Still can see your brown skin shine...
Dear You,
I'm not sure who I am writing to. Perhaps it is for the people that hurt me in the past. Or maybe it's for those I have hurt recently.
It's been a strange month. On top of dealing with my own romantic mishaps, I was fielding calls from multiple friends trying to talk them off the ledge of their own circumstances. Maybe the heat is making us a little crazy and the remnants of the always-too-indulgent summer are being stretched into what is supposed to be autumn. Regardless of the cause, there is a lot of heartbreak and confusion in the air.
For once, I can't claim myself the victim. I've now been placed in the interesting position of being the perpetrator.
I've hurt someone I care deeply for, despite the fact we haven't known each other very long. He is someone that reminded that good-hearted and generous people still exist in the world. His kindness is completely natural and actually even makes me feel ashamed of my inability to be that good. It may not be apparent to most people, but he contains a type of inner-strength that is not displayed by many people his age. He's learned to forgive people for the gravest errors with an open heart and learned to believe in change. He can take abuse and hurtful words, without so much of a flinch, and turn back around and still be supportive and loving. Most of the time he looks happy-go-lucky, as though he isn't thinking about much beyond the task in front him, but like most things, his exterior is deceiving. His mind is constantly busy with thoughts of his friends, his family, his life...
I hurt him by pushing the boundaries of his kindness and generosity. I exploited the very things that drew me to him and that I have come to endlessly respect. I tested the number of times he would forgive me and the things he would forgive me for. I'm testing him even now, offering myself as a friend, when the last thing he might even want or need from me is my friendship.
And now, I find myself in the situation of possibly repeating my mistakes, mistakes that I made only a few weeks ago.
You see, I have a cycle. A very predictable and a very sad cycle.
No matter how wonderful or terrible the individual in front of me, they get three weeks. After three weeks, everything comes tumbling down. My expectations of the other grows exponentially-- anything less than perfect is unacceptable. Perfect means being appropriately attentive and independent, being available on a whim without appearing overly eager; it means being both loving and cruel. I guess I put a whole new spin on wanting everything.
Suddenly, the closeness I felt to the other, the need to include him in my life, disappears. My independence is threatened... my identity is threatened. The idea of trading my impetuous ways for stability and support suddenly appears absolutely unacceptable.
In the envious position of having one too many desirable suitors, I find myself with another who is willing to put me pretty high on his list of priorities. I arrived as a disastrous disruption in his life and rather than running from me, he's embraced me closer, embracing the instability that is... well... me. Although I argue otherwise, he asks for very little in return for indulging most of my whims. A phone call, an hour of face time, a hug... and in return I get a gopher, driver, personal cook, receiver-of-my-anger-rants, and overall supporter/cheerleader.
It shames me to think I'd be willing to jeopardize it all to have a night of doing-whatever-the-hell-I-want. My love of adventure, of meeting new people, of engaging with the world around me, and of expanding my list of ridiculous stories makes me almost hate the thought of being attached to any one person. I'm willing to gamble my whole bank account, for the rush of taking the risk and the (small) possibility of winning even bigger (whatever that means).
Three weeks have passed and I am stuck. I can't bring myself out of my head and I'm awaiting my best friend to help me cut through the confusion.
I need to figure out what I want.
Do I want to be in a relationship?
If I don't, what do I want otherwise?
What do I enjoy about relationships?
What scares me about them?
Can those fears be overcome?
Is this the time to overcome them?
Am I willing to accept my own realities and face them?
Am I willing to accept that I might not be able to fulfill everyone's idea of what I should be doing?
Am I willing to accept that I like being alone? What does that mean if I do?
Thanks You, for reading.
It's been a hard week.
I'm not sure who I am writing to. Perhaps it is for the people that hurt me in the past. Or maybe it's for those I have hurt recently.
It's been a strange month. On top of dealing with my own romantic mishaps, I was fielding calls from multiple friends trying to talk them off the ledge of their own circumstances. Maybe the heat is making us a little crazy and the remnants of the always-too-indulgent summer are being stretched into what is supposed to be autumn. Regardless of the cause, there is a lot of heartbreak and confusion in the air.
For once, I can't claim myself the victim. I've now been placed in the interesting position of being the perpetrator.
I've hurt someone I care deeply for, despite the fact we haven't known each other very long. He is someone that reminded that good-hearted and generous people still exist in the world. His kindness is completely natural and actually even makes me feel ashamed of my inability to be that good. It may not be apparent to most people, but he contains a type of inner-strength that is not displayed by many people his age. He's learned to forgive people for the gravest errors with an open heart and learned to believe in change. He can take abuse and hurtful words, without so much of a flinch, and turn back around and still be supportive and loving. Most of the time he looks happy-go-lucky, as though he isn't thinking about much beyond the task in front him, but like most things, his exterior is deceiving. His mind is constantly busy with thoughts of his friends, his family, his life...
I hurt him by pushing the boundaries of his kindness and generosity. I exploited the very things that drew me to him and that I have come to endlessly respect. I tested the number of times he would forgive me and the things he would forgive me for. I'm testing him even now, offering myself as a friend, when the last thing he might even want or need from me is my friendship.
And now, I find myself in the situation of possibly repeating my mistakes, mistakes that I made only a few weeks ago.
You see, I have a cycle. A very predictable and a very sad cycle.
No matter how wonderful or terrible the individual in front of me, they get three weeks. After three weeks, everything comes tumbling down. My expectations of the other grows exponentially-- anything less than perfect is unacceptable. Perfect means being appropriately attentive and independent, being available on a whim without appearing overly eager; it means being both loving and cruel. I guess I put a whole new spin on wanting everything.
Suddenly, the closeness I felt to the other, the need to include him in my life, disappears. My independence is threatened... my identity is threatened. The idea of trading my impetuous ways for stability and support suddenly appears absolutely unacceptable.
In the envious position of having one too many desirable suitors, I find myself with another who is willing to put me pretty high on his list of priorities. I arrived as a disastrous disruption in his life and rather than running from me, he's embraced me closer, embracing the instability that is... well... me. Although I argue otherwise, he asks for very little in return for indulging most of my whims. A phone call, an hour of face time, a hug... and in return I get a gopher, driver, personal cook, receiver-of-my-anger-rants, and overall supporter/cheerleader.
It shames me to think I'd be willing to jeopardize it all to have a night of doing-whatever-the-hell-I-want. My love of adventure, of meeting new people, of engaging with the world around me, and of expanding my list of ridiculous stories makes me almost hate the thought of being attached to any one person. I'm willing to gamble my whole bank account, for the rush of taking the risk and the (small) possibility of winning even bigger (whatever that means).
Three weeks have passed and I am stuck. I can't bring myself out of my head and I'm awaiting my best friend to help me cut through the confusion.
I need to figure out what I want.
Do I want to be in a relationship?
If I don't, what do I want otherwise?
What do I enjoy about relationships?
What scares me about them?
Can those fears be overcome?
Is this the time to overcome them?
Am I willing to accept my own realities and face them?
Am I willing to accept that I might not be able to fulfill everyone's idea of what I should be doing?
Am I willing to accept that I like being alone? What does that mean if I do?
Thanks You, for reading.
It's been a hard week.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
I just want to know today, know today, know today / Know that maybe I will be okay
I keep seeing him everywhere.
On the street on a skateboard.
Eating an ice cream.
Exiting the elevator.
Waiting on the street corner.
He's a little shorter,
a little younger,
a little fatter,
slightly different hair.
Different iterations of the same person, appearing everywhere.
Maybe it's because school has started again and the village is filled with 60,000 more people than before, increasing the chances that my eyes will play tricks on me.
Or maybe, I just need to sleep more.
Or maybe, I just need to mail him those cookies he loves so much and I've been thinking about sending him (for the last week).
Or maybe, I have a good thing going and it's approaching three weeks and I'm having the same old freak-out session that I always do.
I have the strong desire to run away, to buy a plane ticket somewhere and not tell anyone that I'm leaving for a few days. I don't think it is natural to be this turned off to commitment... it seems like one of those things that would have been evolutionarily weeded out a long time ago (although, I guess promiscuity would be more genetically favorable, man or woman, if it means I am diversifying the future gene pool by mating with many partners). I'm searching for anything to ruin what I have so I don't take responsibility for the fact that I am a genetic sport (hooray for self-sabotage).
I wonder how he and I ever made it as long as we did. Granted, we fought to the point of breaking up everything three months, but we still made it pretty far. I suspect that given the difficult year we were both living, we just needed something, even if it wasn't that great (and possibly more damaging than either would care to admit). That, and he took my abuse and bizarre/sarcastic comments better than anyone I know.
It's been nearly two and a half years since we first met.
A year and a half since we broke up.
Almost a year since we began speaking again.
Two months since we stopped.
And now, it's been two and a half weeks since he asked for a modicum of commitment from me.
A month and a half since hypotheses were tested.
Two and a half months since we began talking.
Sixth months since we first met.
Approaching three weeks.
Temptation's right around the corner (several corners, actually) and I'm concentrating on not succumbing to it.
I have to believe that people are capable of overcoming their own terrible judgment, otherwise I'm condemned to make a lot of enemies.
On the street on a skateboard.
Eating an ice cream.
Exiting the elevator.
Waiting on the street corner.
He's a little shorter,
a little younger,
a little fatter,
slightly different hair.
Different iterations of the same person, appearing everywhere.
Maybe it's because school has started again and the village is filled with 60,000 more people than before, increasing the chances that my eyes will play tricks on me.
Or maybe, I just need to sleep more.
Or maybe, I just need to mail him those cookies he loves so much and I've been thinking about sending him (for the last week).
Or maybe, I have a good thing going and it's approaching three weeks and I'm having the same old freak-out session that I always do.
I have the strong desire to run away, to buy a plane ticket somewhere and not tell anyone that I'm leaving for a few days. I don't think it is natural to be this turned off to commitment... it seems like one of those things that would have been evolutionarily weeded out a long time ago (although, I guess promiscuity would be more genetically favorable, man or woman, if it means I am diversifying the future gene pool by mating with many partners). I'm searching for anything to ruin what I have so I don't take responsibility for the fact that I am a genetic sport (hooray for self-sabotage).
I wonder how he and I ever made it as long as we did. Granted, we fought to the point of breaking up everything three months, but we still made it pretty far. I suspect that given the difficult year we were both living, we just needed something, even if it wasn't that great (and possibly more damaging than either would care to admit). That, and he took my abuse and bizarre/sarcastic comments better than anyone I know.
It's been nearly two and a half years since we first met.
A year and a half since we broke up.
Almost a year since we began speaking again.
Two months since we stopped.
And now, it's been two and a half weeks since he asked for a modicum of commitment from me.
A month and a half since hypotheses were tested.
Two and a half months since we began talking.
Sixth months since we first met.
Approaching three weeks.
Temptation's right around the corner (several corners, actually) and I'm concentrating on not succumbing to it.
I have to believe that people are capable of overcoming their own terrible judgment, otherwise I'm condemned to make a lot of enemies.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Mini Update
I've started about two or three other entries and haven't managed to make much progress on them (there goes my secret-- only SOME of my entries are stream-of-consciousness entries... some are written, left alone, and re-written when I feel like it...).
So, just so you all know that I'm alive (if anyone is reading this in the first place), here's a mini-update:
So, just so you all know that I'm alive (if anyone is reading this in the first place), here's a mini-update:
- Got a deathly cold (told I looked terrible and to go home several times by my boss) that I'm still kicking... stupid cough.
- Whether it is related or not, I have weird aches and pains (like pain in my fourth and fifth digit on my right hand and a pain in the arch of my left foot).
- As soon as I figured I was no longer contagious (and donning safety gear), I started baking again. This week's concoctions? Caramel Apple Cupcakes with a Cream Cheese Frosting (with homemade caramel!) and Pumpkin Cupcakes with a Ginger Cream Filling and Chocolate Ganache Frosting (recipes courtesy of http://cupcakeblog.com).
- I'm stuck back in my head, thinking about my relationships with people (friends, family, and lovers) and the meaning of life.
- And of course, I'm preparing myself for the elections by getting together my own little voter guide. Be ready friends! You'll know how to vote by November 4th-- (and in case you haven't PLEASE REGISTER TO VOTE!)
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