(There was a man
I wanted to kiss
On the eyes
And there was a man
I needed to pin down.
There was a man
I wanted to smash
Into my breasts and there was a man
Whose lips were pillows. Here
Is what I want to do
To you: throw you to the floor and lick
The crease behind your ear.
It is a part of yourself
You have never seen.
I see it every day.
I want to leave you
Diminished.)
Rebecca Makkai
Monday, March 23, 2015
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Comforting Words
I came across some truly comforting words in an unexpected place - a blog called 'cupcakes and cashmere.' It's kind of embarrassing to admit, but I'm still not comfortable with who I am. Isn't twenty six a bit too old for that sort of insecurity? I feel like I'm just now starting to put my adult life together, and I wonder whether that's "normal." It was so reassuring to read these words and be reminded that I'm not the only one who feels this way:
----------
In keeping with the theme of today's post, I've thought about the five things that currently define my life and how they've changed in recent years.
Friends and family have always been a priority, but my social circle as become increasingly intimate, no longer burdened by a large group of casual acquaintances. The more comfortable I've become with myself, the better friend I've been able to be and that kind of vulnerability has made for even deeper connections. My friends have become my family.
I've embraced my introverted side - that it's okay to favor a quiet night in with a glass of wine and a good book instead of a crowded bar. It's helped me understand that a truly great home is one that's clean, comfortable, and calming.
My dad once wrote in a book that he gave to me, "Find your passion, then find someone to pay you to pursue it." When I started by blog, I had no intention of turning it into a business, I simply created a space where I could share things that inspired me. Pursuing a job that was a undefined (you can't exactly major in blogging) was the biggest risk of my life, but it's led to a career that fulfills me more than I ever thought possible.
I feel lucky to have lived in the same city for eight years, which has provided me with a sense of community. I find comfort in knowing that I'm part of something bigger beyond just myself, so I give back to things that matter to me (mainly local animal shelters). Because of the joy that out two rescue cats have brought to our lives, I learned the significance of paying it forward.
I see no that the most important relationship is the one I have with myself. For someone who's extremely self critical, this has always been the hardest thing to tackle. To work on my faults, not just scrutinize them, to view my shortcomings as works in progress, and to give myself a break with I'm feeling most insecure. I try to envision the woman I want to become - who's able to find balance in her life, project positivity, and constantly better herself.
----------
Tomorrow I sign the lease for my new apartment. It feels like a small leap of faith, and I hope it'll be my first step towards being more proactive in general. Maybe it's dumb to pay rent when I could just stay at home, but I don't want to look back and regret not having tried. Here goes....
----------
In keeping with the theme of today's post, I've thought about the five things that currently define my life and how they've changed in recent years.
Friends and family have always been a priority, but my social circle as become increasingly intimate, no longer burdened by a large group of casual acquaintances. The more comfortable I've become with myself, the better friend I've been able to be and that kind of vulnerability has made for even deeper connections. My friends have become my family.
I've embraced my introverted side - that it's okay to favor a quiet night in with a glass of wine and a good book instead of a crowded bar. It's helped me understand that a truly great home is one that's clean, comfortable, and calming.
My dad once wrote in a book that he gave to me, "Find your passion, then find someone to pay you to pursue it." When I started by blog, I had no intention of turning it into a business, I simply created a space where I could share things that inspired me. Pursuing a job that was a undefined (you can't exactly major in blogging) was the biggest risk of my life, but it's led to a career that fulfills me more than I ever thought possible.
I feel lucky to have lived in the same city for eight years, which has provided me with a sense of community. I find comfort in knowing that I'm part of something bigger beyond just myself, so I give back to things that matter to me (mainly local animal shelters). Because of the joy that out two rescue cats have brought to our lives, I learned the significance of paying it forward.
I see no that the most important relationship is the one I have with myself. For someone who's extremely self critical, this has always been the hardest thing to tackle. To work on my faults, not just scrutinize them, to view my shortcomings as works in progress, and to give myself a break with I'm feeling most insecure. I try to envision the woman I want to become - who's able to find balance in her life, project positivity, and constantly better herself.
----------
Tomorrow I sign the lease for my new apartment. It feels like a small leap of faith, and I hope it'll be my first step towards being more proactive in general. Maybe it's dumb to pay rent when I could just stay at home, but I don't want to look back and regret not having tried. Here goes....
Monday, November 5, 2012
Food or sleep? Sleep or food?
How nice to find another good Jeffrey McDaniels poem at the end of an exhausting twelve hours of work!
In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
The Quiet World
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
Monday, May 28, 2012
September 1, 1939
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Made My Morning
This email from Ann reminded me of why I love her so much:
Okay kind of random but this funny thought came to my head while I was on the train: neurotica. Imagine it - porn with neurotics!! They're so awkward they never even manage to have the sex!!!
That was it.
Okay kind of random but this funny thought came to my head while I was on the train: neurotica. Imagine it - porn with neurotics!! They're so awkward they never even manage to have the sex!!!
That was it.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Dating Conundrum
[Ann]
christine, i don't get this whole "going on dates" business
like...are you supposed to flirt? or just be yourself?
i guess some people are naturally flirty.
like...are you supposed to flirt? or just be yourself?
i guess some people are naturally flirty.
[me]
no, i totally understand the conundrum
i was wondering that too after my blind date a while back
i treated that date as if i were making a friend
[Ann]
i knooow!
[me]
and had i been attracted to the guy, i would've regretted it
and had i been attracted to the guy, i would've regretted it
but i guess if you want the guy, you have to flirt?
[Ann]
like i wonder if that gives the other person the impression that i'm not interested at all
[me]
you're asking the wrong person, girlfriend!
I still don't know the answer to this conundrum. I'm just a friendly person, and flirting isn't necessarily easy for me. Is it possible to flirt in a friendly, casual way? I would make myself cringe if I actually followed the advice I see in magazines (playfully touch the guy's forearm to show him your interest, give him a coquettish look from under your eyelashes, etc). I want to be friendly and make light conversation to put the guy at ease, but is that sending the message that I'm not that interested? Does he expect me to be more nervous and shy? What's a girl to do? I think my guy friends would be uncomfortable if I asked them...
Oxford Comma and Quotation Marks
I finally bothered to look up what an oxford comma is: it's that last comma before the 'and' in a series of listed items. "For lunch I had a sandwich, salad, (oxford comma!) and coffee." I think I read somewhere that it's optional, but I'm sticking with it. On the other hand, I can't stand that silly rule that punctuation marks must always go inside quotation marks! I don't ever have to turn in a paper again, so I'm doing away with that rule. How is it that such a nonsensical (at least in my opinion) rule is still in place? What if you're repeating someone's words to them as a way of seeking explanation? As in: "What do you mean 'I can't find Penny'?" If I had put that question mark in front of that quotation mark, it'd be as though the other person was asking the question, "I can't find Penny?" See what I mean? Maybe I'm not making any sense at all.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Am I a Magpie?
Why do I want these sparkling earrings so very much even though I'd be too cowardly to actually wear them around? Perhaps I am a human magpie.
"In common with jackdaws, magpies are attracted to shiny objects and are notorious for stealing rings and other jewelry left on windowsills or tables out of doors."
So, keep a close eye on your jewelry when I'm around! Just kidding.
"In common with jackdaws, magpies are attracted to shiny objects and are notorious for stealing rings and other jewelry left on windowsills or tables out of doors."
So, keep a close eye on your jewelry when I'm around! Just kidding.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Quotes
I'm greedy about odd things - short stories, hand-written letters, pretty photographs, and quotes, to name a few. My friend Stephen also likes "cheesy quotes," and here's one that he shared with me:
"For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone."
That was said by the unmatched Audrey Hepburn. Isn't it lovely?
"For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone."
That was said by the unmatched Audrey Hepburn. Isn't it lovely?
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Vivid Dream - #1
I usually have intensely vivid dreams that make me feel tired when I wake up. Some of them are so fun that I can't them out of my mind for the rest of the day, yet I always forget to write them down. Today, while cleaning my desk, I found a good one written down on a dusty scrap of paper.
I was standing before a turquoise, bungalow-style capsule lab at night. A man opened the door to let me in. Another researcher sat at one of two computers set up in front of a large window that looked into an adjacent room housing a large MRI scanner. The man asked whether I wanted a blood test done before my scan, and I said yes without hesitation. He said I was required to brush my teeth before he could draw my blood. I had left my toothbrush at work, so he got one for me out of a tall filing cabinet. It was orange with slightly crushed bristles. I didn't care too much that it had been used and wondered if he gave this one to all the test subjects that came in. I stepped outside and stared up at the brilliant stars while I brushed. The man poked his head out and said, "You don't ned to brush so thoroughly for a blood test. Finish up and spit on the grass there." I brushed my tongue hurriedly and took in a mouthful of water
My phone alarm went off, and I woke up distinctly disappointed that I'd never find out the results of my blood test. I can pinpoint two things that converged to form this strange dream.
One - I used to sign up to be a test subject for all sorts of studies done on campus. It was good money for a not starving but still poor college student who sometimes had only $20 in her checking account. I've had four or five MRI scans, and all of them were done in a camper-style lab on wheels that really was turquoise and shaped like a pill capsule. The researchers give you foam earplugs and position your head in a helmet-like structure before you slide into the scanner. The whirring and clanging of the machinery is loud inside, but I never minded it. The idea is to compare the brain's response to positive versus negative (even violent!) images, but the noise's rhythmic quality made it hard to stay awake and focus on the flashing images.
Two - I sometimes wonder whether my hormone levels are awry. Is that why I never had a growth spurt like my dad? Is that why I break out, even though I wash my pillowcases too often and angle the phone away from my cheek? Is that why I only get around four periods a year (not that I'm complaining)? A simple blood test could give me a definite answer.
The business school's experiments were usually dry (negotiation scenarios, factors in decision-making, etc), but Neuroscience had some interesting ones. For a sleep study, I had to take a nap in a makeshift "bedroom" furnished with only an Ikea bed and a chair next to it. I slipped under the covers and tried to get sleepy while he stuck on some electrodes. I felt pressured to fall asleep so I could give them some good REM cycle brainwaves, but it took forever. I finally fell into a half-sleep and dreamed that the researcher had come back and was standing in the doorway shining a flashlight on my face. I woke up fully when his voice came over the intercom: "Okay, you can wake up now."
My friend Sara (a terribly smart girl) had designed a few experiments of her own, and she suckered me into being her subject twice. This involved pulling on a swim cap modified with plastic-rimmed holes through which she squirted some sort of gel. There's nothing quite like the feeling of cold gel oozing through your hair and onto your scalp. God, I'm such a good friend.
I was standing before a turquoise, bungalow-style capsule lab at night. A man opened the door to let me in. Another researcher sat at one of two computers set up in front of a large window that looked into an adjacent room housing a large MRI scanner. The man asked whether I wanted a blood test done before my scan, and I said yes without hesitation. He said I was required to brush my teeth before he could draw my blood. I had left my toothbrush at work, so he got one for me out of a tall filing cabinet. It was orange with slightly crushed bristles. I didn't care too much that it had been used and wondered if he gave this one to all the test subjects that came in. I stepped outside and stared up at the brilliant stars while I brushed. The man poked his head out and said, "You don't ned to brush so thoroughly for a blood test. Finish up and spit on the grass there." I brushed my tongue hurriedly and took in a mouthful of water
My phone alarm went off, and I woke up distinctly disappointed that I'd never find out the results of my blood test. I can pinpoint two things that converged to form this strange dream.
One - I used to sign up to be a test subject for all sorts of studies done on campus. It was good money for a not starving but still poor college student who sometimes had only $20 in her checking account. I've had four or five MRI scans, and all of them were done in a camper-style lab on wheels that really was turquoise and shaped like a pill capsule. The researchers give you foam earplugs and position your head in a helmet-like structure before you slide into the scanner. The whirring and clanging of the machinery is loud inside, but I never minded it. The idea is to compare the brain's response to positive versus negative (even violent!) images, but the noise's rhythmic quality made it hard to stay awake and focus on the flashing images.
Two - I sometimes wonder whether my hormone levels are awry. Is that why I never had a growth spurt like my dad? Is that why I break out, even though I wash my pillowcases too often and angle the phone away from my cheek? Is that why I only get around four periods a year (not that I'm complaining)? A simple blood test could give me a definite answer.
The business school's experiments were usually dry (negotiation scenarios, factors in decision-making, etc), but Neuroscience had some interesting ones. For a sleep study, I had to take a nap in a makeshift "bedroom" furnished with only an Ikea bed and a chair next to it. I slipped under the covers and tried to get sleepy while he stuck on some electrodes. I felt pressured to fall asleep so I could give them some good REM cycle brainwaves, but it took forever. I finally fell into a half-sleep and dreamed that the researcher had come back and was standing in the doorway shining a flashlight on my face. I woke up fully when his voice came over the intercom: "Okay, you can wake up now."
My friend Sara (a terribly smart girl) had designed a few experiments of her own, and she suckered me into being her subject twice. This involved pulling on a swim cap modified with plastic-rimmed holes through which she squirted some sort of gel. There's nothing quite like the feeling of cold gel oozing through your hair and onto your scalp. God, I'm such a good friend.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Ann's Misadventures - #2
Sometimes you just need to resist the urge to be nice or gentle and firmly say "NO!" Ann has a hard time with this pretty frequently, and the results are...well, you'll see.
[Ann]
**********
Yeah, The Cure is totally killer. I mean, out of all the bands I listen to, I love killing while listening to them the most.
Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaAAAAA?
Man, the Jew in me WISHES I got everything with a discount. That'd be amazing. And, no, I don't take anything. Sorry to crush your hopes and dreams. Oh, and I'm a freelance writer. Gotta use that energy for something! What do you do?
Damn, girl! You're hanging out with friends? Shiiiiit! Lucky! Actually, that sounds way more fun than my day of doing the laundry, going to the gymbo, and cooking. Wanna switch?
Oh, and I ONLY messaged you because you were a wannabe Jew. Durrr. Wait, you were a wannabe Jew? WTF? Haha! Stop copying my religion!! :D
OK, I'm going back to bed. I'm lame!
Peace,
[Ann]
btw i have a date i couldn't get out of tomorrow night
i'm so not looking forward to it.....the guy's personality is SUPER loud
i just fwded yj a msg he sent me awhile back
i'll send it to you for laughs
just so you know what i'm dealing with
can you IMAGINE me with this type of person
**********
Yeah, The Cure is totally killer. I mean, out of all the bands I listen to, I love killing while listening to them the most.
Wait, whaaaaaaaaaaAAAAA?
Man, the Jew in me WISHES I got everything with a discount. That'd be amazing. And, no, I don't take anything. Sorry to crush your hopes and dreams. Oh, and I'm a freelance writer. Gotta use that energy for something! What do you do?
Damn, girl! You're hanging out with friends? Shiiiiit! Lucky! Actually, that sounds way more fun than my day of doing the laundry, going to the gymbo, and cooking. Wanna switch?
Oh, and I ONLY messaged you because you were a wannabe Jew. Durrr. Wait, you were a wannabe Jew? WTF? Haha! Stop copying my religion!! :D
OK, I'm going back to bed. I'm lame!
Peace,
Michael
**********
[me]
oh my god....
i couldn't even laugh
i'm just cringing
so very cringing....
[Ann]
when he said "and no, i don't take anything" it was in response to me asking him if he's on drugs
i know xtine... i know. what was i thinking
[me]
what do you mean you couldn't get out of it?
[Ann]
this is like all the worst of evan
well i flaked on him twice already...
like two separate dates
but he seemed kinda sad about it?
[me]
i guess it's nice of you to give the guy a chance?
i guess it's nice of you to give the guy a chance?
[Ann]
he texted me after i flaked the first time and said
"i know, you'll have to meet me sometime :( i'm sorry!"
"i know, you'll have to meet me sometime :( i'm sorry!"
which... i mean...........
when you hear that..........
what am i, a puppy kicker?
[me]
LOL
[Ann]
i gotta go...
[me]
no! just when it was getting so hilarious!
[Ann]
oh no i meant i had to go on that date
esp at this point if i just say no he'll be like "wtf did you waste my time"
so i gotta do it!!
watch i end up falling in love with him
i'll invite you to our wedding
Somehow I've forgotten how that date went. Maybe Ann managed to flake one last time and convinced the guy to finally give up the chase.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Ann's Misadventures - #1
[Ann] actually talk about random
this morning my coworker dave and i were walking to work
we were stopped at a light and while we were waiting.... this homeless woman was bugging us
she was a little high i think...
she was talking about how nice my skin is! no joke
so random
[me] were you flattered?
[Ann] haha well for all i know she could've been saying the same thing to a lightpost 5 mins prior
[me] were you flattered?
[Ann] haha well for all i know she could've been saying the same thing to a lightpost 5 mins prior
so i didn't take it too seriously
[me] awww sad
she was just trying to give you a compliment, ann
i swear, so mean
[Ann] i said thanks!
but she was not in the frame of mind to be taken seriously
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The Cutest Intern
[Hannah] the cutest intern just dropped off his timecards!
[me] ooh, be friendly
[Hannah] he's like stereotypically nerd
[me] *SWOON
[Hannah] and i couldn't stop cracking up after he left
he gave us 4 timecards and we said 4?
[me] what do you mean by "stereotypicall
[Hannah] and he said...in his nasally voice...i like to clump them together
and we said, it's better to turn them in weekly
and he said, this is my last week so, i hope you can forgive me
like steve erkel but not as extreme
so cute
curly hair
khaki pants
glasses
[me] ....that's not what i pictured when you said "the cutest intern"....
[Hannah] but i just wanted to hug him
he was so cute
"i hope you can forgive me"
Friday, July 29, 2011
Out Sick
Hannah went home from work, sick.
I get a call from her and start feeling worried it's so bad she needs me to come home and take care of her.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah...um, where are the legs and wings and everything?"
"What?"
I had already eaten those pieces while de-boning the rotisserie chicken Dad had gotten from Costco the day before. Sick, my ass.
I get a call from her and start feeling worried it's so bad she needs me to come home and take care of her.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Yeah...um, where are the legs and wings and everything?"
"What?"
I had already eaten those pieces while de-boning the rotisserie chicken Dad had gotten from Costco the day before. Sick, my ass.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Lost Then Found: Gertrude
An excerpt from a tender little article in the NY Times, "Chicken Vanishes, Heartbreak Ensues":
And what’s not to love? There’s something intrinsically happy about a chicken. The name: a little hiccup in the mouth. The shape: a jaunty upswing of feathers, a grin. The ceaseless bobbing, scratching, pecking. It’s nearly impossible to feel melancholy in the company of chickens. They are a balm for the weary urban soul.
True, very true.
I had a friend in high school who had 13! pet chickens in her backyard. They lived in a wall of roomy cages built into a sort of shed by the pool. Her favorite chicken was missing a toe because she accidentally dropped a flashlight onto its foot one unfortunate night. They were let out to roam the backyard regularly and loved to jump into the pool, which was custom-lined with smooth black rocks. I used to have a sweet little chick myself. I was alone in my AP Bio classroom when it hatched, so I was its mother. It would run across the living room to me cheeping madly and flapping its tiny wings. I took it for walks to Van Ness park, and sometimes it fell into the play pit sand. Eventually I had to give him away to a lady with a farm, but I still remember the way he would nestle down into my palm until his neck disappeared and fall asleep. He looked just like a Peep. I miss you, little chick.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Cample
Definition: To enter on a wordy conflict; to answer in anger; to wrangle, scold, or quarrel.
As in: 1628 R. Burton Anat. Melancholy (ed. 3) iii. iii. iv. ii. 572 If they be incensed, angry, chide a little, their wiues must not campell againe, but take it in good part.
How great is this? :)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Don't Leave Your Sunglasses at Home
I was walking to Starbucks on my break when I spotted a couple of those charitable organization donation gatherers. Ugh, the familiar dread. I always feel compelled to come up with some lame excuse for not stopping to talk instead of being callous enough to ignore them. This time it was, "I have to be somewhere (pointing down the street), but good luck!" Of course they're still there when I walk back half an hour later, coffee in hand. I was shielding my eyes from the sun with my folded newspaper, and one of them says, "Hey, baby, you need an umbrella for that! I lived in Asia for three years so I know. You don't want that dark skin." Uh, what? I still have no idea what he was trying to convey with that one. Was he trying to be funny? Helpful in a really strange and awkward way? Or maybe it was supposed to be a snide comment about Asians' obsession with skincare?
What is it with White people who've lived in Asia for a few years, think they're suddenly an expert in all things Asian, and then feel a need to announce it to everyone? I'm not the politically-correct police here, but it still annoyed me. I just glanced back at him and said, "Don't you mean parasol?" I was walking briskly, as usual, so I didn't hear any response. If only I had had a more barbed and disdainful comment to shoot back...
What is it with White people who've lived in Asia for a few years, think they're suddenly an expert in all things Asian, and then feel a need to announce it to everyone? I'm not the politically-correct police here, but it still annoyed me. I just glanced back at him and said, "Don't you mean parasol?" I was walking briskly, as usual, so I didn't hear any response. If only I had had a more barbed and disdainful comment to shoot back...
Friday, January 7, 2011
Mobamarms
Now if only I could get Mobama to be my personal trainer....
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Some Adult Truths From a Coworker
I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. I can't really relate to this personally since it never happens to me, but I get the idea.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
There is great need for a sarcasm font.
Was learning cursive really necessary? Learning cursive just ruined my print.
Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
Bad decisions make good stories.
Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again. No one's gonna make me throw away my Mary Poppins VHS!
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my 10-page technical report that I swear I didn't make any changes to.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
It's hard to decipher the fine line between boredom and hunger.
How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word someone said? Mostly I don't even bother with the What; I just go right to the nod. Whoops!
Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. I can't really relate to this personally since it never happens to me, but I get the idea.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.
There is great need for a sarcasm font.
Was learning cursive really necessary? Learning cursive just ruined my print.
Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.
Bad decisions make good stories.
Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again. No one's gonna make me throw away my Mary Poppins VHS!
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my 10-page technical report that I swear I didn't make any changes to.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
I think the freezer deserves a light as well.
It's hard to decipher the fine line between boredom and hunger.
How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word someone said? Mostly I don't even bother with the What; I just go right to the nod. Whoops!
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
No French Fry Tips!
Talking to a friend recently, I suddenly remembered a rather traumatic job I had for a few months of freshman year. Feeling both benevolent and desperate for a job at the time, I had signed up to be a "personal aide" for a disabled student living a few floors down. By disabled I mean quadriplegic. My duties: escorting her to/from class, helping with notes/homework, feeding her lunch, and *ahem* assorted hygiene stuff. Don't even ask.
Another thing is that "Mary" couldn't speak, so she used a computer-controlled voice synthesizer thing. Each conversation took an eternity! "Hey, Mary! How's it going?" "Hi.....Chris..tine. I'm.....do...ing..fine. C..an....you..(two minutes pass)..please....ti..e...my....hair?" (She'd ask me to do really random things for her all time - tie her hair, rub lotion into her hands, look for her favorite sweater in the closet, etc.) It was hard to not think of Stephen Hawking at times like this.
The only really scary part was lunchtime. Mary had an undying love for the french fries at Sweetheart Cafe, and she asked for them almost every time. The thing with these french fries, though, is that they're cut pointy at both ends, which means they also get extra crispy in the fryer. Not a good thing to swallow when your throat's not working properly. I literally had to cut the ends off of every...single....fry. Then I had to cut the blunted fries into smaller pieces before finally feeding them to her. I don't know if you've ever heard a quadriplegic person swallow, but it sounds awful. I freaked out the first time thinking I made her choke. Oh, how could I almost forget about the juice? That made me almost pass out! I also used to worry about what would happen if she got hugely overweight eating french fries and being in her chair all the time.
I still can't believe I actually had this job, except that I remember how exhausted I'd feel after a shift. Some of the (larger, stronger) aides actually lifted her out of the chair for restroom breaks and showers - thank God I'm too small for that! I can't imagine having no privacy at all and being forced to rely on complete strangers for even the most basic things. I wonder how Mary's doing now. The last time I saw her was three years ago on campus from too far away to say hello.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Names
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Very Hungry Caterpillar
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, 1952
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmann, 1952
Military Alphabet
Alpha Bravo Charlie Delta Echo Foxtrot Golf Hotel India Juliet Kilo Lima Mike November Oscar Papa Quebec Romeo Sierra Tango Uniform Victor Whiskey X-ray Yankee Zulu
How long will it take you to memorize this?
How long will it take you to memorize this?
Sunday, August 1, 2010
"Hola, Guapa!"
Have you been feeling a bit down, anyone? Could you use some cheering up? Then this, my friend, is for you. Made you smile, right?
His name is Farith, and I am in love with his dimples and tiny sharp baby teeth. He is surprisingly shy for a kid whose adorableness must attract crowds wherever he goes. He only peeked out from behind the car door until his dad whispered something in his ear, at which point Farith finally flashed a shy smile and said, "Hola, Guapa!" in a piping little voice. I swooned on the spot.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Benjamin Franklin of Monogamy
Reminiscing in the drizzle of Portland, I notice the ring that's landed on your finger, a massive
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end
of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds
of women—those you write poems about
and those you don't. It's true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane's Addiction
lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast
as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don't have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power
never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely
a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,
as if I invented it, but I'm still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed
antibodies for your smile. I don't know how long
regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light
of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing
into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate. I'm sorry all the kisses
I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out
of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you'd press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I'm sorry this poem has taken thirteen years
to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate
to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn't be said.
Jeffrey McDaniel
insect of glitter, a chandelier shining at the end
of a long tunnel. Thirteen years ago, you hid the hurt
in your voice under a blanket and said there's two kinds
of women—those you write poems about
and those you don't. It's true. I never brought you
a bouquet of sonnets, or served you haiku in bed.
My idea of courtship was tapping Jane's Addiction
lyrics in Morse code on your window at three A.M.,
whiskey doing push-ups on my breath. But I worked
within the confines of my character, cast
as the bad boy in your life, the Magellan
of your dark side. We don't have a past so much
as a bunch of electricity and liquor, power
never put to good use. What we had together
makes it sound like a virus, as if we caught
one another like colds, and desire was merely
a symptom that could be treated with soup
and lots of sex. Gliding beside you now,
I feel like the Benjamin Franklin of monogamy,
as if I invented it, but I'm still not immune
to your waterfall scent, still haven't developed
antibodies for your smile. I don't know how long
regret existed before humans stuck a word on it.
I don't know how many paper towels it would take
to wipe up the Pacific Ocean, or why the light
of a candle being blown out travels faster
than the luminescence of one that's just been lit,
but I do know that all our huffing and puffing
into each other's ears—as if the brain was a trick
birthday candle—didn't make the silence
any easier to navigate. I'm sorry all the kisses
I scrawled on your neck were written
in disappearing ink. Sometimes I thought of you
so hard one of your legs would pop out
of my ear hole, and when I was sleeping, you'd press
your face against the porthole of my submarine.
I'm sorry this poem has taken thirteen years
to reach you. I wish that just once, instead of skidding
off the shoulder blade's precipice and joyriding
over flesh, we'd put our hands away like chocolate
to be saved for later, and deciphered the calligraphy
of each other's eyelashes, translated a paragraph
from the volumes of what couldn't be said.
Jeffrey McDaniel
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Tetris
My theory/fantasy: The entire screen will be emptied, and the message, "YOU HAVE DEFEATED TETRIS!!" will begin flashing. And there will definitely be super extra bonus points.
Or maybe the stupid long piece never shows up when you need it most just so that this can never happen. Evil Tetris!
Let me know if you ever find out.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
"Ongstray"
I found this written on a post-it in small letters and stuck on the House Blend dispenser. Someone in the office was trying to be cute, and I have to admit that it won me over. How long has it been since I've seen Pig Latin?
They say Starbucks burns its beans, but I don't mind. I love the cigarette-y taste that's left after every swallow.
They say Starbucks burns its beans, but I don't mind. I love the cigarette-y taste that's left after every swallow.
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