We can argue and fuss all night / But I propose that we go to the floor and we slow dance

One of the pitfalls of working in an office environment is not being able to dance whenever I feel like it.

This is one of those moments... but fortunately I have a cubicle divider so I can leave groove in my chair, head bumping and swaying side to side.


Sometimes even my feet start tapping.

And just take it easy / And celebrate the malleable reality

... waiting for inspiration ...

or something to whop me up side the head and re-align my brain.

Aliso Street: 1854
When early settlers arrived at the Los Angeles River (El Rio de Nuestra Senora de Los Angeles de Porcinucula) by way of Mission Road, they picked as a nearby gathering point a huge sycamore that gave them shelter and became a landmar, "El Aliso." That Spanish word for sycamore was later used to name the road carved out near the river, which then was not a concrete channel.

Alpine Street: 1887
Before it was named for one of California's 58 counties, it had been known as the Street of the Virgins, a place where the young ladies of the pueblo strolled with their duenas (chaperones) past admiring caballeros (gentlemen).


Alvarado Street: 1855
Named after Governor Juan Bautista Alvarado, who in 1836 became the first governor to promote public education.

Arcadia Street: 1872
Aracadia Bandini, born in 1823, was the daughter of prominent ranchero Juan Bandini. She came to be regarded as one of the most beautiful belles of Los Angeles and was just 14 when she married 40-year-old Abel Stearns, who had come west from Massachusetts and acquired Southern California's largest land-cattle empire. Stearns built a home for his bride one block south of the Plaza--the community's central gathering area-- and the house, called El Palacio, became the social hot spot. In 1858, Stearns constructed a two-story business block on Los Angeles Street nearby and called it Arcadia Block. The street was officially dedicated one year after Stearns' death in 1871.

I like it in the city / When two worlds collide...

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.