Diary of a Small Squirrel

BLOCKED BY THE INDIAN GOVERNMENT

2006-07-18T14:51:00.000-04:00

well... I have not been able to see my own blog for a couple days now, and I just found out that the reason is because the Indian Government has frigging blocked Blogger.

Yes I am serious. So I can post but I cannot see my own site or read anyone else's site on Blogger. But I can read your comments because they come to my email.

Thought I moved to the largest democracy in the world. Apparently I was mistaken.

PS... for those of you who are curious to read about it, just google blogger + india. or turn on the news if you are here in India. The government has admitted it was them who ordered the block.

POLITICAL RANT

2006-06-15T01:45:00.000-04:00

I am infuriated. OK that is not strong enough a word. I am incensed. I am angered to my core. I am violently pissed off.

That video. Have you seen it? That man, who might or might not be a US marine singing a song about killing Iraqi girls? With glee?

When I saw it on the news here last night I could not believe my ears.

This is what war does. It turns people into monsters. Monsters that can make a joke out of murder. Out of murdering children.

In vietnam ordinary boys were turned into killing machines. They were twisted and warped and dehumanized so all they knew how to do was kill. I am not giving excuses. I do not believe in this war or any war. But I do think the troops, most of whom do not believe in the war either, are in a very very bad position. Maybe that is what happened to this asshole. Or maybe he is just a very very evil man. Either way, this is just another symptom of what war does. People are senselessly killed, and other people go mad.

Thanks Bush, yet another disgusting act to chalk up to your asinine persuit of wealth and greed at any any any cost. Do us all a favor, take your singing pal (and Carl Rove while you're at it) and go to hell.

And She's Back!

2006-06-01T13:43:00.000-04:00

Well, I have made it to Bangalore... all my baggage made it in one piece, and I am safe and sound in my new apartment. It is centrally located and really, really spaciaous and airy. Lots of balconies and we have a private terrace that is the same size as the apartment itself. I have never had so much room to set up in my life.

So thanks, everyone, for the well-wishes. I am sure this will take some adjustment, but I am very much looking forward to exploring my new home. :)

More to come. I am thinking of starting a separate blog about my journies. What say? something like "adventures of a firang squirrel in India" ?

UPDATE: Adventures of a Firang Squirrel can now be found here. I will continue this space as well until I figure out what I am doing.

So I Guess This Is Goodbye

2006-05-23T07:39:00.000-04:00

One week from today I leave, so that means I am in the depths of frenzied packing.
It also means that Thursday my computer goes into storage with the rest of my belongings that are not going to India with me.

I have been spending time with friends, but mostly I have been at home sorting my life into cardboard and plastic bins... or simply similing at something one last time before it heads to the compactor. I still have more shite than I know what to do with. How does a girl accumulate so much crap? Sheesh!

So! Everyone take good care of yourselves. I will check my email when I arrive or shortly thereafter... if I have a computer.

And whatever God(s) you believe in, please put in a good word for me. I can just hear a faint voice saying "And watch that last step, it's a doozie!"
(insert grin here)

cheerio!

Home is where the... uh...

2006-05-09T20:04:00.000-04:00

right.

Well right now home is where the chaos is. So, sorry I have been absent. I think I may have lost a great many of you by now, cause I know I haven't been a prolific correspondant lately.

I am in packing hell. And firmly ensconsed in a flurry of lunch dates and hair appointments and phone calls and change of address forms and... well, every other detail that accompanies moving one's life to the other side of the planet. I have "to do" lists posted on every surface in my apartment. I have copier boxes and trash bins everywhere. I have bags of clothes and shoes to go to Goodwill overtaking what used to be my dining room. And I have angst creeping up on me in the middle of watching West Wing.

One minute I feel fine and the next I am teary eyed because that was the last time I will probably eat at El Pollo Rico or see a particular friend.

I'll tell ya right now, I am not a girl that loves change. And after the 30th of this month, there is almost nothing about my life that won't change. Now, I love a good challenge. And I am looking forward to what's ahead, for sure. But I am, well, as they say in India... I am shit scared . (FYI, in the US we say scared shitless.) Learning a new city, a new culture, a new working environment. Completely changing the way I dress, the way I eat. My way of life is undergoing an extreme makeover... sans Ty Pennington, t h a n k g o d. These things would be stressors in and of themselves. Combine them together and they look a lot like insanity.

I know it sounds like I am being negative. I am not. I am excited for this move, these opportunities. But I don't think wanting to do something and being fucking scared out of one's mind about it are mutually exculsive.

Anyway, that is where I am now. So I am sorry I have been absent. And from the first of June until mid-July I will be really absent. Well, OK, I will really be in Pondicherry, Rome and Florence, but that is beside the point. My apologies ahead of time for the spotty postings. I am sure you will all forgive me in the end.

So You Had A Bad Day

2006-05-01T07:42:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was... um... ugh.
Well, it started out OK. Stephan came over to help me with some heavy lifting, we had some brunch, and then went to run an errand. What we came back to was horrific.

See, I have 2 cats. Sabina and Lucia. Lucia is Sabina's mother. I adopted them both in 2000. Lucia had her first litter when she was just a kitten herself, and these two cats were very very bonded. Lucia had been viciously abused, so she was understandable skittish, and Sabina was just a normal kitten.

Fast forward six years and I have two enormous kitties. Lucia got over her fear of people for the most part, and Sabina turned into a big fat spoilt princess. I love them both like they were my human children. And they love each other. They sleep curled together, wash each other, eat from the same bowl and use the same litter box. If one is in the kitchen, the other comes following soon after. They hate to be apart.

So anyway, we get back to my apartment. And something is very wrong. Stephan had brought a plastic sack with him earlier containing items for him to notarize some documents for me, and had placed it by the couch before we left. When we returned, the stamps were strewn around the livingroom floor, half the ink pad was in my bedroom and Lucia was cowering under my dining room hutch.

I went into my bedroom to find the inky half of the ink pad when the noises started. Oh my god, I thought, where the fuck is Sabina? And what is that yowling?

I went to look under the chair and was met with an ungodly howling and hissing combo, the likes of which I have never heard from a common housecat. Then I realized the plastic bag is missing. And I see blue under the chair with Sabina.

Oh FUCK. It's wrapped around her neck.

So we lift up the chair and she sprints under the dresser. And I suddenly smell shit. And she is HOWLING like she is being murdered, the poor creature. And she surely will not let me anywhere near her to remove the bag.

I called animal control, who arrived about 20 minutes later (NB: Hey Alexandria Animal Control... expect a call from me later. The tool you sent to my house was a total bastard and made me more upset than anything. And he was abusive to my cat. I am pretty sure that the best way of removing a plastic bag from around a scared cat's neck is NOT to stomp on it as the animal runs past you) and eventually the cat was freed from her captor.

I think Sabina is alright. She is insisting on walking frightfully slow and will not go near the bedroom. But the most distressing thing is that she will not let Lucia anywhere near her. She hisses, she growls, she postures. And she slept directly in from of the food and water all night and blocked Lucia's only path to the litter box.

So I reluctantly went to work this morning, but all I can think is that my cats are tearing each other to shreads. And now after all this trauma, how do I subject them to a vet visit in a couple weeks, and a 2 day flight to India in a couple months?

Oh god, these poor animals.

2006-04-20T16:33:00.000-04:00

A GIRL, TODAY
IN SOWETO, SOUTH AFRICA
HAS A GREATER CHANCE OF BEING RAPED
THAN LEARNING HOW TO READ

this is what I learned today.
it made my soul ache.

Leaving... well, not New York exactly, but....

2006-04-14T08:49:00.000-04:00

This is how I feel today... much like REM's song "Leaving New York"

Much easier easier to understand if you watch the video, but here are the lyrics:

It's quiet now, and what it brings is everything
Comes calling back a brilliant night, I'm still awake
I looked ahead I'm sure I saw you there
You don't need me to tell you now, that nothing can compare
You might have laughed if I told you
You might have hidden the frown
You might have succeeded in changing me
I might have been turned around
It's easier to leave than to be left behind
Leaving was never my proud
Leaving New York never easy
I saw the life fading out

Now life is sweet and what it brings I tried to take
The loneliness, it wears me out, it lies in wait
And on our lost till in my eyes, shadow of necklace across your thigh
I might have lived my life in a dream, but i swear, this is real
Memory fuses in shatters out glass, but carry your future, forget the past
But it's you, it's what i feel.

You might have laughed if I told you (it's pulling me apart)
You might have hidden the frown (change)
You might have succeeded in changing me (it's pulling me apart)
I might have been turned around (change)
It's easier to leave than to be left behind (it's pulling me apart)
Leaving was never my proud (change)
Leaving New York never easy (it's pulling me apart)
I saw the light fading out

You find it in your heart, it's pulling me apart
You find it in your heart, change...
I told you, forever, I love you, forever (you find it in your heart, it's pulling me apart)
I told you ,I love you, I love you, forever (you find it in your heart, change)
I told you, forever, I love you, forever (you find it in your heart, it's pulling me apart)
I told you, I love you, I love you, forever (you find it in your heart, change)

Annoyance at Giant

2006-04-13T08:04:00.000-04:00

So I left work early yesterday to go to the grocery store. Last night was the first night of Passover, and as always I was pushing the envelope of timiliness. There was chametz (leavened food items) all over my kitchen, and I still was unsure of exactly where I was going to seder that night.

I decided I had better go to Giant on the way home, just in case (Giant is the local grocery store). See, at the very least I always stick to the commandment that all Jews must eat at least one olive-sized piece of matzoh on the first night of Passover.

I get to Giant, grab a few things and head to the kosher food section. And when I get there, I stare blankly at the shelves. No, it's not what you think. It's not that they are OUT of matzoh. Oh no. The shelves are full of it. But why? Well it's because all the boxes are Kosher, but not Kosher for Passover. There is a difference. At Passover, nothing can be left to rise for more than 22 minutes. So even regular Kosher matzoh is chametz at Passover.

So I go to the customer service desk, and I ask the guy standing at the counter. I can tell the kid is Arabic, and he's really nervous I am going to yell at him. Sweet kid. Not like it's his fault there is no proper Passover food. So finally the manager comes and asks me what the problem is. I tell him there is no Kosher for Passover Matzoh. He tells me there is. I say "OH!" releived, and he walks me back to the section and points to a row of boxes.

"Um, I am sorry, but I cannot eat that." I say to him. I try to explain to him why that is, and he interrupts me. He tells me that it's not his fault that I do not like that particular kind of matzoh. He gets bitchy with me.

"It's not that I do not like it. It's that it's egg matzoh... and technically although that is Kosher for Passover I am not supposed to eat that either. It's for the elderly and kids and stuff."

He stared at me like I am making this up. But I am not. Seriously.

I grab the side of the box and show him where there is a statement by a rabbi stating as much. He shrugs his shoulders and basically walks off.

Nice.
I hope he breaks a toe.

So anyway, Happy Passover folks.

The journey before the journey

2006-04-02T19:49:00.000-04:00

It is strange to think that two months from now I will be living in a different country.

I was coming home from a night out with a friend on Friday night... a glorious dinner at Oyamel complete with pomegranate margaritas and my favorite rice made with black mushrooms and mexican soft cheese. Anyway, it was the first truly warm evening of the spring, and I was driving home on the highway with the windows down. As I drove into my neighborhood I was suddenly intoxicated by hundreds of cherry trees in bloom. I pulled over by the lake that is right by my house, and sat there for a while in the darkness, feeling very nostalgic.

I have never been an exraordinarily sentimental person about the U.S. I have my issues with this country, and I will talk about them unabashedly. But as my time comes to leave, I find myself really valuing certain things here. The fact that I know just where to go to get anything I need. And that I *can* buy anything. But I realized the other day that I don't have the first clue where I would go to buy mascara in Bangalore. Never mind that I am sure I will have to give up on wearing only Stila and Laura Mercier cosmetics when my stash runs out. And peanut butter? Can one get Skippy brand crunchy peanut butter? I guess I will eventually have to seek out the help of some expats whove been there a while and have sniffed out the location of some of the essentials.

And before you ask, yes, I adore Indian food. But let's face it, I am sure I will crave the same things there which I crave at home. Which leads me to ask... what are my chances of finding a nice crisp dill pickle? Or hickory smoked bacon. Oh my god... bacon. Don't get me started. And where will I shop for shoes? Don't tell me everywhere. I think there might be a difference between what I am thinking about and what you have in mind. I mean Kenneth Cole. I mean genuine leather with a 3 inch stiletto heel. No chance of there being a DSW in Bengaluru, is there? Illa? Thought not. Yes I know there are high end boutiques. I need something just a little more affordable than Ferragamo (but it's nice to know I can still go and drool over something on the weekends).

No I am not so materialistic that those are the only things I will miss. I will miss my friends. I cannot even focus on that right now, because I have never been apart from them for more than a month. I will miss my family. I will miss being able to drive. I will miss the security of knowing where I am going. Of driving on autopilot because I instinctually know the way. I will miss that I do not have to calculate time zones to talk almost everyone I love. I will miss meeting the girls for dinner or brunch or coffee or Desparate Housewives. I will miss my job. I will miss not living in a city.

But despite it all, I am excited. It is a new phase of my life. A wonderful opportunity to begin a new life. Not many people get this chance. It took a lot for me to decide to take it.

Now to tackle the job of sorting out a lifetime of belongings.
Note to self: where the hell did you get all this shit????

Hooray for Television

2006-03-28T08:24:00.000-05:00

There has actually been a lot of great stuff on TV lately.

Last night I caught this documentary on Sundance called Pack Strap Swallow. No, it's not a porn film. It's about these girls from all over the world who are in a prison in Ecuador for drug trafficking. Amazing. These girls range in age from mid 20's to mid 40's. Some were duped into being mules, some were just naive, and some were willingly engaging in what they were imprisoned for.

I felt especially bad for this one woman in her mid 40's. Apparently she went on vacation with her boyfriend, and he switched suitcases with her. The suitcase he gave her was filled with like 4 kilos of heroin, and she got caught. There is not much her lawyer or the US government can do for her in the end, and I forget the exact sentence, but it was something like 12-14 years in prison.

It was scary because just as you're thinking to yourself "well this doesn't look so bad. I mean, they have their own rooms that look like college dorm rooms, and a little kitchenette, and wow.... not so bad, really!" Then some girl gets stabbed in the eye during a Christmas celebration, and you realize... this is prison, and these girls are surrounded by bad-asses.

I am also excited because beginning next Monday at 9 PM on the Travel Channel, you get to travel all around India with none other than JEREMY PIVEN! In the first episode he goes to Southern India (yay!), and does all kinds of crazy things. The second part covers North India. Anyway, you should watch this... first of all because Jeremy Piven is fabulous, and second because I think he is not doing the normal touristy things.

Anyway, that's it for now. Sorry have not been blogging too much. After all the excitement dies down I will get back into the game. I will have a lot to talk about.

2006-03-20T21:45:00.000-05:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR KIIIIIIISHOOOOOOOOOOOORE!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's to wishing Kishore a very happy birthday with many happy returns!

Language Rant

2006-03-14T11:54:00.000-05:00

Yeah. I am one of those. When I say Puerto Rico it does NOT come out sounding like Porto Rico. I say it correctly, as it would be said in Spanish. Do I expect everyone to? No. But I took 9 years of Spanish in school, and although I am not fluent in it, I am conversant.

When I talk about Italian cities have I in the past said Firenze instead of Florence? Yes. Should that surprise you? Non, e va fan culo, stronzo!

But give me a break. I am also a linguist.
No, seriously. I have a Master's Degree in Linguistics.
So, let me preface this story by saying "I am an artist and I am sensitive about my shit."
Ahem, OK.... that was an Erykah Badu quote, but you catch my drift. I am sensitive to/about language.

Anyway, so I am walking into the building where I work this morning, and out in front is this refrigerator truck with huge lettering on the side:

BOO KOO ENERGY DRINKS

I nearly lost it. I did not know whether to laugh or be annoyed. I rolled my eyes and stood there staring in disbelief.

Let me break this issue down for you. "Boo koo" is southern urban slang for "a lot".
example: Mario makes boo koo bank, yo!

It comes from the French word beaucoup. And stuff like this happens all the time. Words get co-opted from another language quite often. We use them in everyday speech, and we do not always pronounce them correctly. Like, for example, croissant. I am just fine with this phenomenon.

And then there is slang. I am good with slang, too. I use it myself. But for the most part, slang is something we use in conversation. We speak it. We do not often write it.

And this just looks dumb in print. BOO KOO?!??!?! And not only in print, but as the name of a sports drink?

Now before you accuse me of being anti-urban or something, let me mention that if you go to the product's home page, it is all about Xtreme sports and motocross. Uh. Not so urban. More like suburban schoolkid, yeah?

So what gives? Am I just getting old and crochety? Or am I bothered cause this is a linguistic nightmare? Probably a little of both. Or maybe that company just needed to dig a little deeper to find a krunk name for a new sports drink.

Especially because last time I checked "boo koo" was about as played out as calling someone "boo" or saying something was "bumpin". And if my white ass knows that, it's time to update.

2006-03-09T19:26:00.000-05:00

end of the day, armabol beach, goa
february 1st 2006

I have no idea what I did on this particular day. All the days blended seamlessly. Each began with two glasses of milk coffee had at a large wooden farm table. Some days I followed the coffee with fruit, yogurt muesli for breakfast, on others I had an omlette. Heavy decisions.

One day we took the ferry to Tiracol Fort and on the way we stopped to talk to some migrant workers desilting the river. The children of the workers were captivating and I took shot after shot while they goofed off for the camera. That afternoon ended with a surprisingly good bowl of spaghetti aglio e olio in a hole-in-the-wall italian joint in Arambol. One day we went to Anjuna. Was it Anjuna? Now I am beginning to forget. The rest of the time was spent rescuing starfish from low tide, thinking up yummy dishes to persuade the hotel owners to cook, and generally being a sun and sea worshipping, tender-coconut drinking, laze-about. Oh, and there was that French apple and almond pie.

I need to go back there. Now.
Anyone up for a road trip?

2006-02-26T18:57:00.000-05:00

There are a lot of stories I will tell in the coming weeks about my trip to India. It was a whirlwind of activity. I arrived in Bangalore and within a few days landed in the enveloping heat and crowds of Mumbai. But oh god the kebabs, I still have the taste in my mouth, taunting me. Just as I had begun to get used to the seething masses of people, I found myself on the top berth of an overnight train to Goa listening to the neverending chant of the hawkers... teacoffeetomatosoup... teacoffeetomatosoup. Stepping off the train into the blinding sun, I was immediately confused. The more salt I could taste in the air, the better I felt. Days melted together fueled by watermelon juice, milk coffee and pounding surf. Dinners had by candlight at low tables sitting on cushions, a kitten named Thali for entertainment. One more overnight train and I am back in Bangalore. There is a rush of activity. My life is changed forever. I am back on the plane going home, staring at the mehendi on my hands wondering where the month had gone.

The Squirrel Has Returned

2006-02-20T09:15:00.000-05:00

Hi there everyone.... and thanks so much for all your well wishes when I was away.

I have returned home... exhausted and under the weather, but happy. There are lots of stories and it was a great trip. Sadly I barely took any pictures as I was exceedingly busy.

I will catch you all up when I can. Right now there are over 400 msgs in my inbox, and I think I might have to be sick again. Work sucks after a month off.

If I click my heels three times can I go back to Goa?

Cheers, all... and hope everyone is well!

Squirrely Adventures

2006-01-18T08:35:00.000-05:00

OK people, this will be my last post for about... well, probably for quite a while. I am off on another adventure and I am not sure I will be near a computer or that I will have the time to post anything.

I am headed back to India, this time for nearly a month.

I will miss all of you... oh wait, I will be seeing a bunch of you very soon. ahem. OK, I will miss the rest of you. And I promise to post lots of pictures and stories when I get back. This should prove to be a very interesting, hectic, and exciting trip.

So cheers, good luck and take good care while I am gone. I should be back online around Feb 20th.

The rich are getting... stupider.

2006-01-15T21:05:00.000-05:00

So I spent most of today cleaning my apartment, washing clothes and getting ready for my trip. As I was running around I had the TV on for some background noise. One of the programs on TV caught my attention and waylaid me for a full hour as I sat on my couch wondering what this country is coming to.

The name of the show is Party Party, and it features two families from different parts of the country and how they go about planning and executing similar types of parties. They have shown weddings, anniversaries, graduations... that kind of thing. Well this one was sweet 16 parties, and I nearly lost my mind.

In case you are not from the US, in a lot of regions here families celebrate the 16th birthday of their daughters with special parties. I never had one per se because my parents don't go in for that kind of thing (they did take me out for a rather nice dinner), but some of my friends had parties with all their friends. Mind you, I came from an affluent suburb of Boston where very few people were hurting financially. Moreover, some of my classmates' families had $2 more than God, and nobody had what I am about to describe.

So one family from the show was in CA. The daughter Samantha can only be described as an overprivildged, spoiled, obnoxious shit. She needed a solid smack in the head. Her mother needed a massive whack, because she was the one feeding this little monster's warped views.

For Samantha's 16th birthday party her parents spent well over 35,000 dollars. They rented a hall in a hotel, had it catered, and brought in entertainment. But it doesn't stop there. They got her a 3,000 dollar a night room at the hotel, 5 dresses to choose from for the party, and had her and her close friend picked up in a Rolls-Royce and taken for a day of pampering at the spa.

And what is Samantha's reaction? Well, first of all, she gathers her highschool cheerleading squad and passes out invitiations to her party... conspicuously leaving out a few of the girls. What a nasty little bitch. Then she has a meltdown because he parents do not buy her a brand new BMW, and only give her theirs as a gift. She also had a fit about a host of other things, obviously unable to show any sort of gratitude. Let me just say right here that if I had EVER spoken to my mother the way this child did, my life would have been over. OVER. And no one would have found my body, either.

Meanwhile what were her parents thinking? First off the mom was having a crisis of her own, topped off by her showing up to the party in one of Samantha's dresses (all of which were made for a 20 year old... NOT NOT NOT a 16 year old OR a 45 year old). But the weirdest thing was that she was surprised by her daughter's ungrateful nature.

Uh, HELLO you asinine cow... you spoilt your child beyond any imaginable means, and then you wonder why she acts like Kelly Osbourne in princess get-up? What child... no, wait... what ANYONE needs a friggin $35K birthday party? OK forget need... why? Why would anyone spend that kind of money.... ugh....

I am done thinking about it. Thank God my parents raised me correctly. I got exactly what I needed (as opposed to what I wanted) with a few surprises thrown in. Nothing extravagant. But that's alright. I do not think that is how parents should show their children love.

PANDA LOVE

2006-01-12T10:45:00.000-05:00

(picture courtesy of the national zoo website.. they don't let me attend his physicals, but I wish they would!)

OK, so before work today I went to the National Zoo and went to go see Tai Shan.

All I have to say is this... he is probably the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life. I forget how old he is now, but he's clearly still a baby. When we got there he was running (read: waddling) around in the outside enclosure while his mom ate bamboo.

After a while he was playing around on this log. His mom came over and they were play fighting and wrestling. He kept biting his mom and being a typical baby... too cute for words. A couple times he fell off the log, down about 5-7 feet and everyone gasped. But he just got right back up and climbed up on the log. A few times he was playing too rough with the mom and she hauled off and cuffed him, or she would put one of her massive paws right in the middle of his head. And a couple times she just grabbed him off the log and held him like a human would hold an infant. He stayed still for a bit but eventually wrigged free of her grasp and went off to play.

If you live in DC here is a good way for you to go see the panda if you cannot get tickets. Go very early in the AM. We got there at about 7:45 and there was PLENTY of parking. (Also, you do not have to pay for parking before 9 AM, so if you get in and get out, you're golden.) Tai Shan is outside most mornings, and you do not need tickets to view him when he is outside. Don't tell anyone I told you! :)

tip for photographers: bring a telephoto lens... the outside enclosure is tricky photog wise... you're shooting through a fence into the sun in the AM... and it's a relatively far distance. I did not have mine and so I did not get any useful pictures.

First Squirrely Rant of 2006 (almost)

2006-01-09T12:36:00.000-05:00

Yeah yeah yeah... call me old, call me conservative (!), call me anything you want. But I do not see the need for movies like Hostel.

This film topped the box office this weekend, and I was left scratching my head. What is wrong with this country that we think a movie that features nothing but rape, torture, and dismemberment is entertainment?

Now OK, I have not seen the movie. And I do not think I ever would. I do not have anything against horror movies as a genre, and I have actually liked a few. But what the hell is going on that we would sit down, watch graphic scenes of brutal and violent suffering, and think that is entertaining?

It is one thing when a movie uses graphic images to further a plotline. Not everything need be shiny and pretty. But when the entire plot of a movie revolves around gore, what is the point? Is is curiousity? Is it that we are all so overstimulated that we need more and more and more over the top shit to get us to feel anything?

Why is viewing human suffering, fictional or not, considered entertainment?

I think this is a major problem with our society. I think it is distubing that we are so desensitized to violence that we use it as timepass. I think it is disgusting that parents think it is alright to let their children watch this shit. It is not art. It is not open to interpretation. It is not an allegory. It is a grusome movie meant to titilate. We are mixing sexual arousal and violence and calling it entertainment. That is a very very dangerous path to walk down.

Crusin' for a Divine Bruisin'

2006-01-06T11:06:00.000-05:00

Uh, maybe I missed something, but when did God leave Pat Fucking Robertson in charge of his public relations?

What an assmonkey. In case you have not heard, the PM of Israel, Ariel Sharon, is very sick. He has had 2 strokes and is not expected to fare well. I might not love his politics, but I do not wish that hardship on anyone.

Anyway, apparently Pat "assmonkey" Robertson did not support the pull-out from Gaza (for the record... I was pro pull-out.... very much so). And so Robertson has declared that Sharon's stroke is God's retribution upon him for dividing "God's land". (read the article here)

First of all, shut up Pat.

Second.. who the hell do you think you are, saying something that offensive? If I were a member of Sharon's family I would get on a plane, fly to the US, smite the living shit out of Robertson and call THAT divine retribution.

Why do we give this man a platform? OK, yeah, free speech and whatever, but come on. Not everyone needs to be provided a free venue to air their hate speech. Let them pay for it. It's bullshit sensationalism, and this man just wants some publicity. Same as his stupid comments about Chavez (he compared Chavez to Hitler and called for his assasination).

Maybe we just need to up Robertson's meds, pull the plug on his mic and call it a day.

And oh yeah... SHUT UP PAT. In case you did not get my point.

p.s. a big "shut up" also goes out to Sienna Miller.... cause yeah, you're NOT a victim when you purposefully stand on the tracks when the train is headed right for your ass. That, my dear, is called suicide.

2005-12-30T21:59:00.000-05:00

This is me... walking down a little road near the top of the hill at markandeshwara temple in india. I think it says a lot about my year. Some of it I will explain and some, well... some you will have to wait and see.

2005 has certainly been an interesting year. One that has been full of surprises. I realized something last week, something very important. I finally feel mostly content with my life. For once I like my job. OK so the work itself is not earth shattering, and it's not my life dream. But I really like the people I work with, and I feel respected and valued. I have also been shown that I have people in my life who care about me and respect me for who I am. And as hokey and schmoopy as this sounds, I learned a lot about love and healing.

This is all very ironic... because my life as I know it is poised to change drastically in 2006. I am not going to jinx it by telling you all about it now. But as the pieces fall more firmly into place I will let you know. Suffice it to say that I am happy and nervous and enthralled and scared shitless.

Which leads me back to 2005. Without the things I have learned this past year, it never would have happened. If I had not balanced precariously before I walked, I would have simply fallen. I might still fall yet. Who knows. But I am walking. And I am moving forward with my life. So while the path before me is a little like the picture above, and I cannot see exactly where I am headed, I am hopeful about where it will lead. And I am grateful for those of who who have chosen to accompany me. Thank you, and hold on tight.

Looking Forward to a New Year

2005-12-27T13:43:00.000-05:00

I made it through Christmas... which, with my family, is sometimes a feat. Don't get me wrong, I love them dearly. But you know what I mean. There is always something at those kinds of events that make you want to lose it... and this year was no exception. I won't get into the details, but I will say there is a good reason why we all call my uncle "Dick". The good part was that I had a nice time at home overall (barring the Dick incident), which was important given that this might be my last Christmas at home for a while. And I got an iPod Nano, which made me really happy.

Anyway, 2005 has been interesting. It has been a year of learning and exploring. I will do my 2005 recap in another post... but yeah. Interesting. I leave to go back to India in a few weeks. That will be fantastic. And scary. And wonderful. And hectic.

So anyway, more details as they emerge. Hold your horses. And your questions. I know, I know, annoying, yeah? Be quiet and eat your leftover Christmas pudding. Hee. Just kidding. Kinda.

Cheers.

CONFIDENTIAL TO JOHNNY DAMON

2005-12-21T08:46:00.000-05:00

OK, this is hard for me to say.
Actually, I lied.

YOU SUCK. Have fun with the Yankees, you bastard.
Couldn't have waited until after the holidays, yeah?

I hope you break a finger.

2005-12-20T08:35:00.000-05:00

MERRY
CHRISTMAS

I hope everyone has a happy holidays!
I am off to New England for a few days of gluttony and snowy family fun.

My gift to you is this.... go here and watch the baby panda on the panda cam.
It is seriously IMPOSSIBLE to be grouchy or upset or stressed out while watching this adorable ball of pudgy fur roll around and be his adorable fat self.

Cheers, and I hope santa brings you everything you asked for. Especially if you asked him to bring me an elephant, a meerkat or a panda. I would settle for a giraffe (but I would need help feeding it) ;)

Nightswimming

2005-12-14T07:36:00.000-05:00

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse
Still, it’s so much clearer
I forgot my shirt at the water’s edge
The moon is low tonight

-Nightswimming, REM

I do not remember whose idea it was, going to the lake at night. I drove with Darcy. We took my father's car. I had never been to this lake, and it was a hike through the woods on a narrow, badly-defined trail. I wonder how she knew the way. We were inseparable yet she knew something I did not.

They boys were already there when we arrived. They were not hard boys. These were soft, just past adolescent boys, just now getting used to their new selves and trying them out for all they were worth. They had built a fire in a well-used firepit and were pulling from a flask. I only knew one or two of them, but Darcy, she knew them all. Another secret. Another time.

I sat next to one of them, a boy at least 3 years younger than myself. We talked about the night, how clear it was, how round the moon was. I watched Darcy. She was talking to Josh. I knew that look on her face. Finally something about her I was sure of. One of the boys wanted to take his canoe out on the lake. A few others went with him. I stayed by the fire wondering how long summer could last.

Someone suggested swimming. We all shyly peeled off our clothes and ran for the water. It was warm, enveloping. Something about the solid blackness of the water and the sheen of the moon, like an oil slick sliding across the surface. The boys in the canoe were talking and their voices carried across the water. One of the others told them to shush and enjoy the night. I was grateful for the silence.

A while later, I think a couple years later actually, Josh died. He had leukemia. I did not really know him, but whenever I pass that spot on the road where Darcy and I parked, I wonder if his life now is as calm as that night on the lake.

God did NOT ask you to annoy me...

2005-12-07T11:38:00.000-05:00

so please, don't even bother acting like He did.

I got on the elevator today to go get lunch, and there was a woman standing in the back. OK. Normal enough. So she waits until the doors close and then says "Hi, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure!" I said. I am a friendly enough girl. I figured she needed directions or something. Or maybe she was going to ask me where I got my boots. They are cute.

"Have you signed the Lamb Book of Life signifying that you have accepted Jesus Christ into your heart as your Lord and personal saviour?"

Oh FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
Come off it with this shit, will ya?

I look at her right in her face and said "Yeah. No. I am Jewish."

OK so that is not entirely accurate, but I was pissed off. Why can't I go to lunch without being accosted by a zealot? Here's my thing. Is someone proselytizing on an elevator (or anywhere else for that matter) actually likely to get someone to convert? No. They are probably just going to succeed in annoying people, and that is about it.

I never got this approach. Religion is a very personal thing. The best way to get someone to understand your religious or philosophical beliefs is to live them and then hope that people learn by your example. You cannot just go around saying borderline cultish shit to busy people on an elevator and expect them to have some kind of breakthrough and accept Christ/Muhammed/Buddha/Whatever by the time the doors open at the lobby.

So do me a favor. Cut it out with the accosting me. If I have any questions, I'll ask. God lets me talk to Him without you.

World AIDS Day

2005-12-01T08:09:00.000-05:00

I remember when I first started hearing about AIDS. I was probably in high school. We all thought it was something only gay people got. The talk was that it came from monkeys in Africa. There were all kinds of asinine rumors like that. Stupidity. Then the movie Philadelphia came out, and we all started to wise up. The newspapers and TV stopped referring to it as the "gay plague" because, as it turns out, straight people were getting it too.

And the world was forever changed.

Now we're still facing a crisis. And I think it's worse, really, because nobody seems to be scared of it anymore. People laughed when they recently released Rent as a movie, saying it was no longer relevant. There are drug cocktails that will prolong your life. You don't see too many people walking down the streets covered in Kaposi's sarcomas anymore. It's all been sanitized. Made to look so much more easy to deal with. And it is great that we have made huge strides in treatment. But this also means that many local clinics, such as the Whitman-Walker clinic here in D.C. are losing funding. Cause people don't see AIDS as a crisis anymore.

Tell that to one of my friends who has been living with AIDS for years now. Tell him it's not a crisis when he gets pneumonia and almost dies... again. And because he's been too sick to work regularly, tell him it's not a huge issue anymore when he doesn't have enough money to pay his mounting hosptial bills. Or when he falls on the floor at 2 AM, too weak to stand up, and there is no one there to help him up.

And this story repeats itself all over the world. Children by the millions all over Asia and Africa are AIDS orphans. The dad contracts AIDS from a prostitute, brings it home to mom, and they both die. Sometimes the mom has kids that are also born with AIDS. There is no sex education in these villages, and no anti-retroviral medicines that would easily stop the mother from passing the virus on to the child during the birthing process and prolong her life.

AIDS is still a very serious threat to the daily lives of millions upon millions of people all over the world. THERE IS STILL NO CURE FOR AIDS. IF YOU GET IT, YOU WILL DIE.

What can you do? Give money to a reputable organization, either locally or globally. Even better, volunteer your time.

SHAMEFUL

2005-11-29T12:25:00.000-05:00

OK, so as many of you know, I am both Jewish and Catholic. I do not really consider myself any one thing although I was baptized and had my first communion in the Catholic church. But like many Catholics, I am way, way, way past "lapsed". And as I have grown older, I have found elements of other religions and philosophies that make sense to me. I choose not to limit myself.

Anyway, I have always wondered if maybe one day I would return at all to Catholicism. And I received my answer today... a resounding HELL NO.

Why? Well, today the Vatican published a document that now bans homosexuals from entering the priesthood. And I think that is ridiculous on so many different levels I have no idea where to start.

Let me begin by saying I think this marks a time where Catholicism has formally blamed the wrong group for it's own shameful sex absuse scandal. The abuse of those young boys (and sometimes girls, too) was *not* committed by homosexuals. It was committed by pedophiles. And these two are NOT NEARLY the same thing. Pedophiles may commit their crimes against a child that is the same sex as them. But I would not consider them homosexual. They are simply pedophiles. Homosexuals are people who have consentual, adult relationships.

Apparently someone forgot to tell these bigoted, backwards assholes that.

So. If they REALLY need someone to blame for that horrible mess, all the church needs to do is look in the mirror. They allowed it to happen. They covered it up, pushing pedophiles from one parish to another in hopes that if they prayed hard enough it would stop. Cardinal Law should be held personally responsible for the broken lives he created. But instead is has a cushy post at the Vatican.

Anyway, the point is that the Catholic church has not even bothered to solve the issue. By banning homosexuals from the priesthood they are not addressing the issue of pedophilia whatsoever. And on top of that, they are stopping many many men who are more than qualified for the preisthood from entering.

This makes absolutely NO DAMNED SENSE!

I mean, OK, so all priests take a vow of celibacy when they enter the priesthood. A homosexual would be able to stick to that just as well as any heterosexual. So at the end of the day, who cares if they are fighting off impure thoughts of Javier Bardem instead of Salma Hayek? But a pedophile... well, that is a sickness and they are most often not able to resist the urge that makes them abuse children.

Why punish homosexuals for this? It makes no damned sense! It's like saying "I want to stop weeds from growing in my yard!" and then painting your house red to help out. Total frigging stupidity. And it is borne of hate, and misunderstanding, and bigotry.... and it is shameful. Because what it proves is that the Catholic church cares nothing for its parishoners. It only cares about the quick fix and saving face.

You know, I had managed to somewhat bury my other problems with Catholicism. I was not pleased that they were against condom use... even within marriage when one partner has AIDS. Their stance is that sex is for procreation only, so.... Right. OK. I got that, but I really, really disagreed. In a fundamental way. I am outraged that the church seems to care little for the poor while lining it's pockets. I was saddened by the inclusion of Opus Dei as a personal prelature, as I believe it is a cult. Their ban on gay marriage was disappointing and infuriating, but not surprising given their beliefs on the purpose of marriage. Their refusal to allow woman into the priesthood is draconian.

But this, my friends, this right here is the end for me.
And hey, Pope Benedict... don't worry... no excommunication needed.
I remove myself.

2005-11-24T07:56:00.000-05:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

OK so some of you live in countries where you don't celebrate it. But... weeeeellll... we should all have things we are thankful for, yeah? And some of you are in the UK, and I think we were celebrating providence after leaving you all, but that is no reason to be cranky. Look what we ended up with for leadership! LOL. And I know some of you are vegetarians... so turkey is out. But grab a plate of tofurkey and mashed potatoes and go wild.

I, myself, will be eating turducken.
Yes, that lovely southern speciality involving the careful placement of a boneless chicken inside a deboned duck inside a turkey, which is then roasted and then eaten with glee.

I will be spending the day with friends, which will be nice.
So I am thankful today. For my friends who stand by and support me, for my family who does the same... and for my future...

I hope everyone has a lovely day.

Yeah, Yeah -You Know Who You Are

2005-11-18T07:23:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I feel like I can’t move on
Nothing in life is turning me on
But I still see clearly when I see you smiling

You know nothing seems to fit
I couldn’t see my way through the shit
When every single second of my waking day
Was thinking of you
Thinking of you
You never know
That I am alive
I am alive
I wanna grow

There are so many things I can do
Just like falling in love with you
Take my hand now
Understand me
You can come here too
C’mon people, we’re making it now
Yeah, yeah, yeah
C’mon people, we’re making it now
Yeah, yeah, yeah

But today I worked it out
I got something I can shout about
Someone who believes in all the things I’m thinking
But where have you gone
Where have you gone
I’ll never know
And I am alive
I am alive
I wanna grow

There are so many things I can do
Just like falling in love with you
Take my hand now
Understand me
You can come here too

"Come on People"
-Richard Ashcroft

2005-11-13T18:59:00.000-05:00

I have quite a lot of pictures of the metal cups at this chaiwalla's stand
They fascianted me for some reason... all the haphazard rows of shiny metal, each waiting to be filled with tea.

That's my tea there in the front, but not my packet of smokes there in the corner.
Also not pictured... the heaping plate of pakoras that was just sitting, waiting to be devoured. I almost bought one, but my stomach was off that day. Very off. And we were in a bit of a hurry to get to the temple. And I was drinking my tea... and in between sips I was negotiating with an 8 year old about the price of a stone Ganesha. And taking pictures. And knowing I was headed home in 2 days. How to delay? And thinking a million things at once: why did I not finish my idlis back in Hassan? Stomach growling but acidic. Maybe the the tea will help. Else it will curdle.

The girl is asking 40 rupees for the Ganesha. I give her 50 and tell her shhhh... It's against my nature not to barter but I am not going to haggle with a skinny child over what amounts to a dollar... and I feel guilty... tea in one hand, digital camera in the other with my slr in my bag. We walk away towards the temple. The stone under my feet is cold, but the sun filtering through the clouds is warming me... and it is humid. I take off my jacket. The temple is indescribable. Old. Gorgeous. A story at every turn. I am lost in the nooks and crevasses turning green with moss.

As I am putting my shoes back on a man comes to me with a sheet cake. He has icing on his face. He tells me it is his sister's birthday and offers me some cake. The sister waves at me over the brother's shoulder. I still do not feel well so I kindly refuse the cake, wishing the sister well and hoping no one is offended. We begin to walk back toward the car and Kishori is grinning... eating a big slice of cake out of his hand. It is too enticing. He gives me the last bite. Vasu asks where he got the cake and he says "some guy back there was giving it away." I look back at the temple and savor the sugary frosting in my mouth.

Where to next?

Get Your @$$ Out There and VOTE

2005-11-08T10:33:00.000-05:00

If you are in the US and your state has some kind of elections today, please, I beg of you.
VOTE!

I am sick of voter apathy. I am sick of excuses. I am sick of people moaning and complaining about what they don't like about government and their state or their town or locality and then... well, they haven't voted.

Democracy only works when you get involved.

And for those of you who don't think it matters so much, I have news for you. The local elections have a greater impact on your daily life than the national ones.

And oh yeah...
GO TIM KAINE!

2005-11-06T14:34:00.000-05:00

The leaves on the tree just outside my bedroom window have started to turn such amazing colors. This is, perhaps, one of the things I will miss most when I leave this place... the showy vibrance of fall. Wearing a fleece and making a rich stew on Sundays. It's beautiful outside just now... I think I well go outside for a walk, then come back and make a nice dinner.

EW

2005-11-02T21:20:00.000-05:00

ew ew ew
fucking EW!

OK, I like autumn for the most part. But every year there seems to be this phenomenon that I handily forget about. And that is this... whenever it starts to get cold, things that are outside naturally want to come inside to get warm. Disgustingly this includes things that I do not want to share my space with.

Ladybugs? OK... they are cute.
Spiders? Don't love them but as long as I do not find them in my bed, I let them be
Cotton weevil bug worm things that no one knows what to call but they are small and slow as shit but will totally eat the hell out of your sweaters? Annoying, but not scary.

So what freaked me out today?
A fucking centipede.

There are only 3 bugs I cannot stand. The centipede, the millipede and the cockroach. Everything else is just a wee bug. Sure, it could be a tarantula, and I would pick it up. No problem. But show me a centipede on my bathroom floor and I will act as if I am being mauled by lions. Which is exactly what happened as I was trying to use my own facilities this evening. Out from under the floor molding, right next to my left foot. Shreiking ensues. Cat walks in, looks at it... looks at me. I scream at her to kill it. She walks off, leaving me pants down standing atop the commode. I grab entire bog roll and whomp the shit out of the unsuspecting, but still uninvited creature and flush it down the toilet... wrap the sullied roll of tissue in 2 plastic bags and immediately remove it from the house.

I refuse to go back into my bathroom in case it has angry relatives.
I am also not speaking to my cat, who I am convinced is laughing at my cowardice.

Secrets

2005-11-01T20:44:00.000-05:00

You wanna know a secret?

OK.
Here goes.
It's a doozie.
I still have a roll of black and white film left from my trip to India that I have not developed.

No, I am not kidding. And no, it is not because I forgot about it.
Lazy? Well yes, but that is not why I haven't taken it in.

I have not processed it yet because in some strange way then it makes me feel like there is a part of the trip still left to explore.

Don't roll your eyes at me!
Yes, right I know... I am going right back in February. And yes I will take more pictures then. But... oh forget it. I am not going to make excuses to you. I do things like that. We all have quirks.

On that note, I am going to go eat some of the applesauce I just made. It's still warm. Yummy!

No, you cannot have any... you mocked me.
(giggling)

Godforsaken

2005-10-25T21:44:00.000-04:00

You can say what you want about the Lifetime channel (could they please lose that "television for women" shit? might have been true when they only showed The Burning Bed... ) but they have some good original movies.

This week it has been Human Trafficking. And the obvious subject of the movie is the trafficking of young girls and boys for the purpose of sexual slavery. Tonight was the second night of it, and I could only watch bits and pieces. I do not handle this subject very well. It makes me incredibly, viscerally angry and upset. And although this particular film is fiction, the issue of human trafficking is not. Lifetime teamed with the International Justice Mission to get this film right.

I was always aware of this horrible problem, but one day the local PBS station was screening the documentary The Day My God Died. This film is narrated by Tim Robbins and Winona Ryder, and chronicles the lives of young girls kidnapped or sold into the child sex trade in India. They are forced to work in "the Cages" in Mumbai. I watched this film in horror as these girls recounted their fates. One girl was sold at age 7. I won't tell any more details about her. It is simply too depressing and I will obsess about it for days. How can we let this happen. These are children. They are sold into sexual servitude, raped, and usually contract HIV within a year. Few escape. Some are rescued. Most die of AIDS or complications like sepsis from repeated abortions.

India is not alone in this heinous problem. Thailand has a thriving child sex trade. Apparently people travel there simply to prey on young children. Eastern Europe, Russia, the Middle East, and yes, the USA, all have rampant problems with human trafficking.

What the fuck is wrong with people. What astounds me further is that although it is primarily men abusing these children, women are also engaged in the trafficking and imprisonment of the children. And they are often brutal captors. How does this happen? What could happen to someone to make them immune to the cries and pleas of a child being raped? How could one live with themselves making a living from this kind of torture?

If you want to know what to do to help stop human trafficking, start here. The information on the site is a bit dated, but it gives you a place to start. Or Google human trafficking and read up on it, and what organizations are out there trying to help.

This is more than disturbing. This is unforgivable.

Crash

2005-10-22T21:59:00.000-04:00

I don't know why the movie Crash didn't do better in the box office.

I thought it was a thought provoking film about race in the US, and how communication, lack of communication and miscommunication can change the course of one's life. It is a complicated look at how we deal with others and ourselves. It follows the lives of various people... black, hispanic, white, persian, asian... and how they intersect and intertwine. It examines how peoples' past, their prejudice, their anger, their love, their misconceptions, and their misguided attempts to help others or harm them all shape our daily lives. And in this case it is like watching dominoes fall.

Some people might find the very purposeful weaving of the characters' lives forced, but I think it worked well. We probably miss these kinds of connections all the time because we are not looking for them. We might not be bound as tightly to others in our cities as these people were, but certainly there is probably more of a connection than we might think.

I won't tell you too much of the plot, cause I don't want to spoil it for you. I think you should watch it. It will make you think about your own misconceptions, your own ideas... and how maybe your actions might help shape someone else's ideas... not only about you personally, but about your race as a whole.

It is an interesting thought, isn't it? That in a way, sadly or to some benefit, we each serve as an ambassador of a group. And quite possibly on our worst day, our least behaved day, someone forms an impression about the group we belong to based on that. It's funny how we generalize like that, isn't it? But we all do it. And what is more strange is that when we fuck up, we never want to think that it impacts a whole larger than ourselves, do we? And when we succeed, sometimes we want to be seen as a good representative. Either that, or we want to take all the credit ourselves. We cannot decide whether we want to be individuals judged on our own merit, or exist as part of a group.

It works in different ways, too. How many times have you heard someone say something insanely racist, immediately preceeded by "I mean, I don't hate (blacks, hispanics, gays...), shit, one of my best friends is a (black, hispanic, gay...)." Like having one person in your life of that race (or orientation) gives you license to make nasty generalizations. Cause you don't mean it, really. You've proven you can get along with (blacks, hispanics, gays...) because you have a friend. Who is different. Wow. Look at you.

Look, I am not perfect. I say stupid shit all the time. I am prejudiced against all kinds of things. I could make a lame joke about it but I won't. And sometimes I don't care about it, either. Sometimes I do not think it needs fixing. So what if I am frightened by people who practice santeria. Do I need to be tolerant of everything? No, I do not think I do need to be. Then again, put me in a room with someone who firmly belives that jews control the media, or who uses the "n" word and watch me get very angry very very quickly. Do I find intolerance acceptable then? Of course not. See where I am headed?

Yes it is a slippery slope.
Will I still be able to watch Chris Rock or Jeff Foxworthy or Margaret Cho make jokes about race and laugh my ass off?
You bet I will.
But that movie sure gave me something to think about.

2005-10-16T19:11:00.000-04:00

an old man, villa borghese gardens
rome, november 2004

He is intentionally blurry. He seemed unhappy, and at the time I was miserable.
All of my emotions at that time were filtered through the lens of my camera.

As time went on during this trip I felt lighter and lighter. Maybe I left a bit of my worry behind a tree here, under the chair in an osteria there. Diluted my pain in a glass of a lovely white wine from frascati. Lost my feelings of inadeqacy as I looked into the eyes of little Filippo and heard his unbridled, careless laughter. Began to warm myself in the company of my dear cousins.

It's time to go back, and I don't know if I will be able to. I cannot imagine not going.

I am a sensitive girl

2005-10-10T20:32:00.000-04:00

When I was a child Christmas made me cry.

I did not cry because I didn't get what I had asked Santa for... because I almost always did (except the 3 years in a row I asked for an elephant. My parents' yard is not exactly zoned for that kind of thing.) No, I cried almost every year because of one simple thing.

The Christmas tree.

Christmastime is always wonderful at my parents' house. It is in New England, so it is usually snowing. My mom decorates the house, and she and my aunt cook for days. We do nothing but spend time with friends and family and eat gluttonously until we are all sick and tired of visiting and eating. And drinking. And snacking. And napping.

Of course, the center of any house's Christmas display is the tree. You go out a couple weeks before the 25th and you go to a lot that sells trees. Or you go to a tree farm. And you spend hours in the cold picking out just the right tree. I usually prefer Douglas Firs. They are such a nice shade of blueish green, and lush lush lush. We have high ceilings in the living room, so we could always buy a big, fat, tall tree. So you find the right one, and you place it gingerly in the car, and you laugh while dad struggles to get it into the tree stand while mom complains that its crooked... and why is there mud all over the floor?

And then comes the very best part. You get to trim the tree. No, not prune the tree.... trim it. You decorate it. Every family does it differently. Some go for the very organized look... all red bows and white lights strung methodically. Or they have a theme... snowflakes or bears or anything, really. Some people use popcorn! But we just have a tree full of things we've collected over the years. Some are antiques. Some are lugged back from trips overseas. Some are stupid little popsickle stick things with glitter that I glued together in 3rd grade. They all go on the tree with green and blue lights. And a gorgeous angel from Italy sits on top.

All holiday season long people come over for cookies or a drink, and every year they admire our tree. Especially when we turn off the room lights and let the lights on the tree warm the room. We all stand around and drink our drinks and ooooh and aaaaah over this tree.

And then rather unceremoniously on January 1st, we strip the tree bare and bring it out to the mulch heap to die.

Every year I would start to feel queasy as we were taking the ornaments off the tree. And then as dad dragged it through the house to the back yard my eyes would well up and I would run to my room and cry. This continued until, well, I am almost ashamed to admit this... but until I was in college. Finally my mom asked me what on earth I was crying about. Through my embarassment I told her that while I liked having a tree, I thought it rather horrible to take this living thing into the house, adorn it, make it the center of attention... and then leave it outside to die. She didn't say much as she swept up the dried pine needles from the floor and emptied the water from the tree stand. The house still smelled like evergreen.

That next year, and every year since, we have had a fake tree.

NOT. ONE. WORD.

2005-10-07T23:25:00.000-04:00

and I mean it.

One word out of any of you about how the Sox got bounced out of the series and I will go ape shit.

Yes, I take my baseball very, very seriously.
No, I am not kidding.

Try me.

and while you're at it, wipe that grin off your face.
stupid yankees fans.

2005-10-07T08:27:00.000-04:00

This is a piece written by Anderson Cooper for cnn.com

He is an anchor on CNN and now has his own show, which I sometimes watch. But not too often. He has has a varied career, and if nothing else you have to respect him for going to places like sarajevo and rwanda.

But this story about his brother's suicide and how it changed him is really moving. It's not too sensationalistic, didn't feel like he was exploiting the situation. Just a very well written article about what happened to him when his brother took his own life.

Well worth a read. And some thought.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2005-10-04T09:47:00.000-04:00

L'Shana Tova....
and a happy Rosh Hashana to all.

And for all my Muslim friends... have a peaceful and blessed Ramadan.

Seasonal Yumminess

2005-10-02T19:00:00.000-04:00

It is finally fall, but the late afternoons do not know it yet. So I must dress in a confused state... jeans and a tank top, with a fleece jacket. Without the jacket I would be miserable in the morning, with it I will boil by noon. My choice of colors mirrors the seasonal confusion... petal pink on my fingers and a rich golden orange on my toes. One half of me is in summer, still. I am always one step behind.

The nights are wonderful. I throw all the windows wide open and lay on my bed. It is breezy and the leaves are already dying. There has been no rain for weeks. By 3 AM it is cold and I wake to find myself cocooned under my blankets.

I made pumpkin bread today, filled the house with a spicy scent meant for november. But I couldn't help myself. I did not want carrot or zucchini or banana bread. I wanted pumpkin. By late november I will loathe the thought of it because I will have overindulged... pumkin bread and muffins, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin spice latte, pumpkin ravioli, pumpkin creme brulee, pumpkin soup. Oh yes, I will have it all and then regret it later. I will require a whole year to relearn my love of pumpkin. But I will tire of it just in time to freely exercise my taste for cranberries...

My Blog is Arsed

2005-09-27T19:51:00.000-04:00

Sorry all... last night I responded to all of your comments and lo and behold... they never posted.

Now I cannot view my blog. At all.

My apologies. I am not ignoring your comments. I appreciate them greatly. But my blog hates me.

I won't even be able to see this after I post it.

I wish I had some bit of interesting news to share, but I don't.
My mind is awash with work and allergies and being surrounded by a megaton of crap to do... but I seem to do fuck-all when I get home.

Crikey... I am a tool.
I need a vacation. From myself.

From the Archives

2005-09-25T22:56:00.000-04:00

This is the mentally ill man who plays guitar and sings at the metro stop near where I work.
He's really talented, and although I only use this station every few months he always remembers me and plays the song I first gave him a donation to play for me. That was like 2 years ago and he still remembers. As soon as he sees me coming he begins to play it.

He saw me with my camera once and asked me to take a picture of him, but one where you could not see his face. He worries that people are trying to find him. He made me show him all the pictures of him before he would let me keep them, and he made me delete a couple... which I thought was more than fair.

He won't tell me his name. He says it's not important. I should go see how he is doing... I have not passed through that station in months.

Book Meme

2005-09-25T19:08:00.000-04:00

As tagged by Sudu! (a long-ass time ago... sorry sudu... just getting around to it now!)

Total number of books I own: you have to be kidding with this one. well, you're not... OK.. a huge bookcase, 7-8 boxes full, and stacks on the floor of my computer room and bedroom. enough to open a small library.

The last books I bought: Family Matters by Rohinton Mistry, Until I Find You by John Irving

The last books I read: The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri, A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby

Book I am currently reading: Everybody Loves A Good Drought by P. Sainath

Books I want to read: The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, and about 15 of them sitting in a "to be read ASAP" pile...

Books that mean a lot to me: The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon, The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera, Sun After Dark by Pico Iyer

Tagging:
.:A:. I wonder what you read while you're travelling all over the world!
VASU I am sure this will be enlightening!
PINCUSHION I am so curious! You always have a mess of books listed on your blog...

Untitled I

2005-09-18T13:10:00.000-04:00

She sat at the kitchen table, the late morning light pouring in and washing over her. Her hands pressed against the slick roundness of the half-full teacup. She was feeling nauseated again, and wondered if there were any more biscuits left. But she was too tired to get up and look in the fridge. She had to keep even the dry goods in there so they would not be crawling with the small, strange, almost transparent looking insects that sought out every edible morsel.

He stood by the kitchen sink in his underwear smoking a cigarette. He was silent again, but it did not worry her. He was often silent. But when left alone for long enough he would begin to talk... work, his favorite fruit... it did not much matter to her. Sometimes she lost track of what he was saying, she would just study the expressions on his face, ride the melodic waves of the tone of his voice. When he said nothing she watched his eyes and tried to think of what he might be thinking about. She tried not to ask him.

He always knew, though, when she was tiring of his silence. He would say "What?" to her, his brow furrowed in mock annoyance. She would say "What, what?" back in a fussy tone. It was a routine, a comfort, a joke between them.

He came and sat down in front of her just out of reach of her hands, so she began to weave her toes in between his... an odd gesture of intimacy. He was used to her doing strange things by now. He simply raised an eyebrow, spread his toes and asked her what she had planed for the day. Or was she content to sit in the kitchen all day attached to his feet...

She grinned and took a sip of her lukewarm tea, squinting into the glare of the late morning sunlight.

2005-09-12T21:24:00.000-04:00

The wedding was beautiful and I had a great time seeing everyone and sharing in Nate and Kristin's wedding.

But let me tell you... trying to take pictures of a couple... one wearing white, the other black... while facing into the sun... at dusk... NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE.

I also learned something very interesting. While I was getting ready for dinner one night my dad came to my hotel room and we had a chat. He was looking at my pictures of India. He got to some of the pics of the temples and said "Oh this reminds me of when your mother and I got married in Kanchipuram."

What now?

Apparently some years back on one of their trips around India, they renewed their wedding vows. In a Hindu ceremony performed by a priest... in a temple... in Kanchipuram.

My dad swears he has told me this before. But I think I might have remembered that bit of information. Anyway, it made me smile.

The Squirrel Takes a Mini-Break

2005-09-08T08:09:00.000-04:00

Hello all. Won't be posting for a few days. I am off in my little car to drive up to New England for my cousin's wedding.

Should be fun. And interesting. You get that many people from my family in one place and something usually happens... no telling what, really. There was that time at Thanksgiving about 6 years ago when... oh, I digress.

Anyway, congrats to Nate and Kristin. I wish them nothing but happiness, joy, and a lot of patience. Unless, of course, they have seated me with someone annoying at the reception. :)

Cheers!

Scenes of Hassan from the car

2005-09-06T20:16:00.000-04:00

For me it could almost have been any town, anywhere in India. It was rainy and muggy, and the inside of the hired car smelled overwhelmingly at first of jasmine from the half-dead loop of blossoms hung over the rearview mirror. I was exhausted from the bus ride, but my stomach was full and I was feeling much happier. It was the second to last day of my trip. I would be leaving the next night. I was trying to ignore that fact.

I sat in the back seat looking out the rain blotted window, fussing with Kishori to give me back my digital camera. I don't know why I wanted it just then. I cannot even remember now if I took this picture or he did. I know I wanted to. Maybe he beat me to it. Something about this street... these rows of colorful shops crammed right next to each other, not even an alley separating them. It did not matter what they were selling... sarees, plastic bowls, haircuts, sweets, car parts. They all began to look alike. But not in a bad or boring way... but in a way that swirls and begins to paint an indelible picture in your mind.

I could hear Vasu talking to the driver, and Kishori was pointing something out to me. I was too busy staring as the landscape became more rural. I wanted to snap everything I saw. Not just the people, but the houses, the grass, shacks... it all became fascinating in my overtired state and added to the building picture in my head.

Later, when we piled into the back of an auto in the pouring rain and headed to the bus station, I said goodbye to Hassan. We were leaving, but we could have almost been anywhere. I was lost in my head, in my own little India. And that night, hurtling through the pitch black countryside of Karnataka in the darkened coach, I carried with me that swirling, indelible picture. And I keep it still... quiet and glowing with color. The edges a bit blurry. The focus coming in and out.

2005-09-05T21:24:00.000-04:00

Field of sunflowers, somewhere between Belur and Halebid, India.
I wish I were back there for various reasons.

the squirrel goes on another rant... this time for good reason

2005-09-01T19:48:00.000-04:00

The director of FEMA needs to be fired. Summarily. Immediately. Without recourse.
I just heard him on the news saying this about the people who have been stuck at the Superdome now for days on end without food, water or medicine:

"The Federal Government did not know those people were there until today"

WHAT?????

Hey. Asshole. My friends in India with CNN knew they were there. What in the name of hell is your excuse?

Oh, but it gets worse.

Then the motherfucker said something like "well then there are those people who are misbehaving and screaming and yelling and...." then he trailed off and started to backpedal.

I stopped listening. Rather, I was unable to listen anymore through the pounding noise of my blood pressure building to unreasonable heights from anger and disbelief. Damned fucking straight you unmitigated, incompetent fuckwit... people ARE screaming and yelling! They were told by the authorities to go to the Superdome if they were unable to evacuate the area. And so they followed directions, believing that they were doing the right thing. And that they would be taken care of. Instead they have been abandoned and left for dead. Thousands of people just left with nothing. And no one coming to get them.

Why is someone not dropping food and water?

This I do not understand. I mean, OK, I get that evacuating 25,000 people is no small undertaking when the infrastructure is destroyed. But why can't they get food and water there? I mean, the news crews got in right? And there are helicopters, yes? Right, I am being simplistic. But when people are dying en masse (and I am not exaggerating... when you have cameramen who have covered 9/11 and wars breaking down in tears and saying they have not seen anything like this, you know it is horrendous) do you need rocket science?

I am appalled and heartbroken.
This kind of tragedy is inexcusable.
My prayers will continue for all the people of New Orleans, and the other cities hit by Katrina.
But especially to the people stuck in New Orleans. I am so sorry. There is no excuse.

2005-08-30T20:49:00.000-04:00

oh where have you gone
this waiting seems like rows
of forgotten chairs
and I am never comfortable
twisting first this way
and then then the other
never able to settle
the air is still and unbreathable
and I am like a child who lost her mother
lip quivering
standing glued to one spot
while the world rushes past

SORRY! WHOOPS!

2005-08-29T10:44:00.000-04:00

No no, not still recovering... as some of you have emailed to ask.

Am fine... just had a lovely birthday weekend :)

Pictures to come.

2005-08-23T20:29:00.000-04:00

I took this picture from the back of Kishore's bike. And as you can see, we're stuck in traffic. We were headed home from Markandeshwara Temple... both exhausted and in pain from sitting on the bike for too long. God bless that Hero Honda, but it is not meant for 2+ hour drives. Or maybe my ass isn't.

Either way, by the time we hit the city limits of Bangalore on the way back, I was ready to be off the bike. I was covered in road dirt, I was terribly thirsty, and my ears were cold. Yeah, you heard me... cold.

It seemed as soon as we hit the outskirts of Bangalore traffic just locked up. I had never seen anything like it. I mean, OK we have ugly traffic in the US, and Washington DC is known for traffic jams. But not like this.

And it's not just the different driving habits (although I will admit the constant honking takes a bit to get used to). I think what really confused me is this... there are NO LANES. OK, yes, one side of the street goes one way, and one goes another. DUH. But you know how on highways and streets we have clearly marked lanes? There, well... you just seemingly squeeze in as many vehicles as you can onto your side of the road. And the smaller vehicles, like bikes, just ride in between the larger ones.

It pretty much works, but it is scary as shit when you are on the back of a bike stuck between, say... a bus and a concrete median barrier. And everyone seems to have frightening stories of near-death experiences involving themselves, their bikes, and generally a city bus.

So anyway, this is one memory of exactly one month ago today. I was getting acquainted with the traffic in Bangalore from the back of a Hero Honda.

Well, I have begun to post my pics from the trip on Flickr, as promised. So go here to see them. Check back often, as this is only 36 of the 200+ pictures I took while there.

F*#K YOU COMMENT SPAMMERS

2005-08-18T12:02:00.000-04:00

OK people, my apologies... but I have had to disable anonymous comments on my blog.

In the past 24 hours I have been spammed like no one's business. Its pointless and dumb... do these @$$holes really think they are gonna drum up business annoying the hell out of people?

GIANT EFF YOU, COMMENT SPAMMERS.

POSTSCRIPT... my apologies... have now enabled the kinda annoying "word verification" step for commenting... cause the spammers were not all anonymous, and I was still getting slammed. So sorry, guys, that you have to jump through hoops to leave comments. :( But I have re-enabled anon. comments in the hopes that the verification step will stop all the bullshit.

thanks for your patience.

2005-08-15T20:20:00.000-04:00

These are the kids I had talked about before... the ones I met somewhere on the road between Halebid and Belur. The girl in the red is the one that really fascinated me, but all of these kids were adorable.

We had just had lunch at this little restaurant... it was really good. I especially liked the itty bitty bananas we got for dessert. Yum. And oh... hee... so before I ate I went to go use the facilities. I had asked Kishore where they were, and he said "just go out the back, you'll see them." So I go three steps out the back door and I am immediately confused. Cause I see the sign for the men's room, and actually, I see men urinating (whoops) ... and the sign for the ladies' seems to point me right into the men's room. Hmmmm... what to do?

I hear this woman's voice say something, and out comes this boy, maybe 15 years old, who motions for me to follow him. He leads me back through the restuarant, and up a narrow set of stairs to the hotel. He then points me into a room that is being cleaned and tells me that I can go in there (hooray for my remedial Kannada!). I figure the woman must have said something like "don't make that firangi use the outside toilets" and I was embarassed at the special attention... but I have to admit I was thankful for a clean bathroom.

Anyway, we leave the restaurant and go across the street to the car. Something caught Vasu's eye and he walked away to go snap it. I was going to get in the car when these kids playing in their front yard caught my eye. They were busy playing, laughing and chasing each other around. I held my camera at my side and slowly started walking up. They saw me and so I waved and said hi. They ran right towards me, so I slowly raised my camera. Two of them were shy at first, but the girl in the red and the one in the hat... they were immedialty posing and joking around. They never once stopped laughing and playing.

There was something about the girl in the red, though. She is strikingly beautiful, and she had this look in her eyes. I could tell she was smart, the way she sized everything up. She seemed curious and fearless, yet she was smiling all the while. Like I said before I should have asked her name. I was afraid to say much, to break the spell of the moment... I thought of asking Kishori to come help me talk with them, but sometimes kids are scared of men. Anway, I took maybe 12 pictures of them, then thanked them and said goodbye. They waved to me later as we drove away. I will always wonder what has become of those girls... especially that gorgeous one in the red.

Maybe one day I will go back and find out.

PS: more snaps to come. am dealing with them slooooowly. it is hot and I am tired. please continue to be patient. it will be worth it, I promise!

2005-08-12T07:40:00.000-04:00

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

"Bless The Broken Road" -Rascal Flatts

The sun today is glowing orange. It is nearly 8 AM and its still looking like something you'd expect to see looming on the horizon of the Serengeti... not hanging lazily about in the skies of DC. Its as if the sun knows that it gets to rule these parts for the next couple months and has swollen with pride. It will be hot today... humid and sweaty. I am not fond of these days. I am a girl that likes dry weather... cool, breezy. Or wet and cool. Or even hot and dry. But not heat and humidity together.

Anyway, it is what it is... summer in DC. I will live my life the next two months yearning for October. And on that first morning when it is finally too cold to wear sandals, I will cuss for sure. But inside I will be smiling. And I will drag out my fleece jacket and fall shoes, and wait for the harvest moon.

yep... more India stories and pics to come. This was just a brief interlude.

2005-08-09T20:36:00.000-04:00

I took this snap somewhere on the road between Halebid and Belur as we were travelling. The sights were overwhelming. When I saw this field full of blooming carnations and the women working in it, what I really wanted to capture was the feelinging of an impressionist painting... not much clarity, only color and shapes. I think I accomplished that. I am not overly happy with the composition, but there was not a lot of choice... there was a stark white shack to one side (too distracting) and a line of thick foliage on the other (too dense). I tried some different cropping with this and decided to leave it as is.

One thing I really began to appreciate about southern India is how completely the surroundings can change in very little time. Both times I left Bangalore I travelled only a few hours away... and each place had a very different feeling. The drive to Markandeshwara Temple was unreal.(go here to see some of Kishori's pictures of that day and follow his links to Flickr to see more of the temple). Experiencing India from the back of a bike is something I will never forget in this lifetime. Waching the landscape change as we drove toward Kolar was breathtaking. Going from city sprawl to the outskirts... and then suddenly... there are these amazingly strange and beautiful rocky hills. I have never seen rock formations like that. I was too mesmerized to snap them! And the trip to Hassan on a bus was also something I am glad I did, although I wasn't complaining when we ended up with a luxury coach on the way home. :) You can see a lot from the windows of a bus... and there is always plenty of people watching to do too.

Aaaaaah, so much to tell. And I am savoring every last word. So the words and pictures will come slowly. But they will come. Have patience.

2005-08-04T17:51:00.000-04:00

Chai in the parking lot at... oh oh... help me out guys... Kishori? Vasu? Was this Halebid or Belur? The squirrel is confused.

Anyway, I took at lot of pictures here... the chaiwalla had about a gazillion shiny metal cups all lined up. We drank our tea while surrounded by people selling carved Ganeshas and stone oil lamps... postcards of the temple, and god only knows what. I was in a daze.

We woke at 4 AM to leave for Hassan that morning and I was ill. Bronchitis. But I loved riding through the streets of Bangalore that early. No traffic, the air not yet hazy with dust or exhaust. It was chilly, and it seemed the world was still sleeping soundly. Only us and the dogs up roaming the streets. A quick tea at the bus stand, then some four hours on a local bus... which I would have enjoyed usually, but since I was not feeling well I was just eager to reach Hassan and get some food.

The day was wonderful. I will tell it in chunks in the coming weeks... the temples, the driver we had... fields of marigolds and sunflowers. Rice paddies. Cows and buffalo and goats. Villagers riding down the dirt roads on old bicycles. There was this one beautiful girl outside a house playing with her friends. I am waiting to see her picture most of all. I think I must have clicked 20 snaps of her, and I will always wonder about her. I should have asked her name. She was beautiful in a way that only children can be, and even then she was extraordinary.

The rest of the pictures will come. Processing in the US is a real pain in the ass. You can get it done quickly, or you can get it done well... but rarely both. And both options are costly. I do have the digital snaps I took, which I have been posting, but I would like to get them all together and make choices from there. And my roll of B/W? That will take like 2 weeks. Yeah, I am serious.

Someone send me some masala chai. It's just not the same here at all. Better yet, send for me. I will come back straight away.

2005-08-02T20:54:00.000-04:00

Well, here is the first of many images from my trip to India. I just uploaded over 200 pics from my digital, and there are 6 rolls of film waiting to be developed.

This was taken at Lalbagh Botanical Gardens in Bangalore one early afternoon.

There is something about this picture that makes me smile... I know the composition is facile, and there is quite a distraction near his head... but you know what? none of that bothers me. This picture, to me, is perfection.

Return of the Mack

2005-08-02T08:10:00.000-04:00

Well I am back to my life. There is so much to tell, I would need a lifetime to cobble together all the stories and feelings and images I collected during my relatively short stay in India.

It was, in a word... MAGNIFICENT.

In the coming weeks I will post images and glimpses into my journey. Please be patient, though, as right now I am exhausted and battling a nasty case of bronchitis.

But for now I would like to thank a few people, in alphabetical order, yeah!

Kishori... words are not enough, so I will leave it at just... thank you. a million times over.

Pallavi... you were the first to welcome me, and that meant a lot. thanks for lunch and shopping. you are wise and smart and absolutely brilliantly funny. and very generous.

Prat... girl, you are as wonderful in person as I had hoped. gorgeous and funny and full of life. *huge hug*

Pratap... it was a pleasure meeting you. I enjoyed our discussion over tea. you made me think (not an easy chore!)

Satz... nice surprise meeting you, and I hope to see you again. If only my photos were half as good as yours... *sigh*

Sudu... ah, someone to help me argue my side, hahahha. I really enjoyed the discussions and listening to your stories. I hope we did not get you in trouble keeping you out too late! :)

Vasu... again, not enough words. Your stories, knowledge, humor, and presence made my trip unforgettable. why? because... "it's not a deli pickle...."

Vevck... (grins) hee. you are something else, my friend. I truly had fun. you are one very funny person. and thank you!

OK, so if I have left someone out I will grovel for forgiveness now. I am lightheaded and off my head with lack of sleep. So please... no offense meant.

And She's Off!

2005-07-20T09:10:00.000-04:00

Right, yeah, I get both meanings.

I am excited and scared and full of anticipation and a million other things.
I think I am all packed. You'd think I am moving there with all the assorted shit I have managed to jam into one suitcase. And I am sure I have forgotten something.

Oh well. Too late now. Plane leaves in um.... 8 hours.
So wish me luck!

The squirrel is signing off for now.
See you on the flip side.

Squirrely Vacations

2005-07-12T09:17:00.000-04:00

Well, I have gotten a couple inquiries concerning my lack of posts. Whoops!

Sorry people... I am ramping up for my trip and am running around like an idiot. So I do not really have much to say, and I have even less time to say it in.

So, this might be my last post until early August.
Do check back intermittantly... I might get inspired. And I will try to post at least once from India, but I am not gonna guarantee anything.

Take good care everyone...
Ciao!

fluidity

2005-07-04T17:01:00.000-04:00

diving down, I never hit bottom
this swirling and swelling
the rush, the hum is gone
and there is only
nothing
but my skin surrounded
tickled and teased
I fall and then settle
I cannot open my eyes
but sense you near
overhead
or maybe behind
you are never where I would guess
and the disorienting quiet
has overwhelmed my already
embalmed sense of you
in relation to me
and I do not understand
this fluidity
I always just
hold my breath
and wait for
nothing

Why I Love My Television

2005-06-29T22:03:00.000-04:00

It was a horribly rainy night, complete with a drama involving a small bird trying to take refuge on my balcony, and scaring me half to death (I will share that story at a later time).

Anyway, I happened upon this fascinating film by Paul Goodman about the dabbawallas of Mumbai. I had known about the concept of tiffin boxes in general, but never really thought too much about how the delivery process might be handled. I mean, these are not the things one really ponders in one's daily life... usually. But the more I watched this story, the more incredible it became. This wildly complex process of loading all these dabbas onto trains, coding them, sorting them, and getting them delivered on time... thousands upon thousands of them on a daily basis. The dabawallas are highly organized, and their processes put most CMMI organizations to shame.

It made me think. Most of these men do not have an education past grade school. Yet, they run this business more efficiently than most of the managers I have encountered... most of whom have MBAs. Forbes has said that it would be a Six Sigma organization. That is incredible! Most multi-million dollar organiztions struggle to achive this rating.

Anyway, it was an interesting and motivating film. I am glad to know there is more on TV then "I Want to Be a Hilton." (insert sound of wretching)

*disclaimer: I am not above watching trash television. I am addicted to all things Law & Order, as well as a few medical dramas (House, however, cannot be considered crappy as Hugh Laurie is hotter than hell and a good actor), and Lost (also not trashy as it features Naveen Andrews and has good plotline). Will also watch any serial murder show the BBC can throw at me. And yes, I do watch EastEnders. And what about it?

Mad Cow, Asinine Tom, and Congrats are in Order

2005-06-27T20:33:00.000-04:00

I am decidedly not a vegetarian. I was once. For years and years as a child. For so long, actually, and at such a time in my life that I stopped producing the enzymes to digest meat. Which is neither here nor there. Now I eat meat. I feel guilty about it sometimes. But not enough to stop eating it. And I am not apologetic about it either. What is my favorite meat? Rabbit. Yup. I mean it, too. And why should it not be? Because they are cuter than chickens? Well, the soul of a rabbit is not worth more than the soul of a chicken.

Still neither here nor there. I nearly flipped my gourd (heh) today when I learned that the USDA sat on information concerning the second case of mad cow in the US for.... SEVEN MONTHS. Blah blah blah experimental tests my ass. And I do not care if the meat never made it into the food chain. That is information I deserve to know. I am seriously considering not eating beef until and unless this ridiculousness works itself out. Its bad enough how mad cow was started... sickening... but to know this disease has made it into the US is just scary enough to get me to rethink my eating habits for a while. No promises. But I am thinking.

On to something almost as upsetting. Tom friggin Cruise. What the hell is wrong with that man? For those of you who haven't been privy to his most recent malevolent tyrades, he's upped his annoying quotient to unbearable. His target? Well, hard to really say... but it seems like everything and everyone having to do with modern psychiatry, especially when it has to do with children.

He's vehemently opppsed to the use of Ritalin. Well, alright, I will give him that there is surely an over-diagnosis of ADHD among children. But then again, with all the chemicals we feed them... oops, wrong subject. Anyway, a few weeks back Tom attacked Brooke Shields for bravely talking about her battle with post-partum depression and how she was taking anti-depressants. He was vicious and obnoxious. And then on the Today show he got bitchy with Matt Lauer and went on some unbelievable rant about how you can cure depression and even psychosis with exercise and vitamins ?!?!??!??!?!??! He actually said to Matt "You do not know the history of psychiatry, and I do." What a pompus fuckwit. The only thing Tom knows is the utter shite that Scientology has spoonfed him.

There is enough unneeded stigma attached to mental illness. We do not need some asswipe blowhard like Tom Cruise spreading misinformation because he wants to be mayor of his own narcissistic planet. I don't get it. Would he tell someone with diabetes to not take thier insulin? A medical condition is a medical condition, Tom, you pompus assmaster. You don't have to like it. You're not a doctor. SHUT THE HELL UP, STOP JUMPING ON COUCHES, AND GO HOME TO YOUR BRAINWASHED CHILD BRIDE.

My mother, who has worked in psychiatry for more years than I have been alive wants to wring his neck. She says he needs to come to her ward (she is in pediatric psych now) and try to cure some poor violently sexually abused and tormented child with vitamins and exercise. Well, thank god he can't!

And now for some happy news. I used to mentor DC high school kids. One girl, named Stacy, I began mentoring when she was a junior in high school. She did not really need my help. She was always bright and motivated. She was interested and curious and witty. Stacy is still all of those things and more. And now she is a college graduate. And I am happy to say, she is still my friend. I am so damned proud of you Stacy. You're probably going to end up being my boss one day, woman. You're smarter than I will ever be. Go out there and get 'em. And remember who was nice to you on the way up! :)

2005-06-22T21:06:00.000-04:00

We are on a rock, spinning silently
Won't you get close to me
We are on a rock, spinning in infinity
Won't you get close to me

Is it my genes that have made me?
Is it the things I took, is it the things I said?
Does karma rule?
Well if there's a God can you hear me now?
I am crying out, hoping you know

And in my baby's arms I need no faith
I need no words to define myself
And when I'm holding you, light rushing through
I wanna make it now, safe and straight

We are on a rock, spinning silently
Baby get hold of me
We are on a rock, spinning in infinity
Baby consoling me

Oh I don't know when the fear's going to end
I don't know if my prayers are received - the ones I send

I can't live in pain and fear
Oh I see so much joy and it makes me scared
Oh I don't know if my prayers are received, until the end
Oh baby I don't know where I'm going
All I know is that I need you as a friend

"Science of Silence" Richard Ashcroft

(the picture is by me... it is shadow puppets. So basically, I made the shapes with my hands, and captured the shadow of the shapes on the wall. The distortion is caused by using a slow shutter speed and moving my hands while taking the shot)

The Countdown Begins

2005-06-20T07:56:00.000-04:00

Well, one month from this very day I will board a plane and begin a journey I have been waiting for, well... for a very very long time.

I am nervous and excited. I have been running around in preparation and still cannot seem to get everything done. And in some ways I don't want July 20th to arrive, because I know my time there will pass too quickly and before I know it I will find myself back in DC... surrounded by photos and trinkets and memories... wondering how its over so soon.

If anyone has any "must see" day trips from Bangalore, lemme know. I will be drawing up my itinerary within the next week or so.

HOORAY! :)

Had a funny conversation on the phone the other night with someone I went to college with, and have only seen once since. I was at a mutual friend's house, and she called him and then passed the phone to me. We chatted briefly about this and that, and he asked what I was up to this summer. I told him that in about a month I was off to India.

The conversation followed like this:

him: "wow, whereabouts?"

me: "Bangalore"

him: "Bangor?"***

me: "hahahahha, no BanGAlore."

him: "hunh? I thought you said you were going to India!"

me: "I am. Southern. Bangalore.

him: "But you said..."

me: "I think I am drunk."

The conversation ended up being very much like a "who's on first" kind of thing, which is typical of any conversation with this guy.... hee.

***for those who do not know, Bangor is a town in Maine... both this guy and I are from New England. Bangor and Bangalore could not be more different from each other if they tried!!

Birthday Wishes

2005-06-16T21:12:00.000-04:00

HAPPY
BIRTHDAY
RAMCHI !!!!!!!!!

and many happy returns!

And So It Goes

2005-06-15T20:42:00.000-04:00

My mother's mother, Anatollia, came from a large Italian family. They came to the US when they were all fairly young. Six sisters: Anatollia, Margaret, Angelina, Olga, Connie, and Rose. And their brother Gino. They came from a small town in Italy called Morolo... it lies in the mountains a couple of hours outside of Rome.

Of course some of the sisters were closer than others. And some of the sisters I never got to know so well. Don't tell anyone, but out all of them (my nonna excluded) Angie was always my favorite. God she was a gorgeous woman. And she was the first to go. She died when I was still very young. Some of the others I did not know very well... Margaret, Connie, Rose. I saw them at family gatherings, but I was not close with them.

I haven't seen her in years, but Olga was the sister I always thought might live forever. She was always a loose cannon... animated, and always cussing like a sailor. One minute she would be telling dirty jokes that would make my dad blush, and the next she'd be hauling us all off to mass. And when I was little she made me promise the nuns that I would grow up to become one. HAHHAHAHA. I still remember that, Olga making me tell that Sister (albeit in the weakest voice I had) that I promised to be a bride of Christ. Oh dear. Sorry Sister. Sorry God. Obviously that was not meant to be.

My nonna has been dead for a while now. She passed when I was in college. And along the way her other sisters have passed on, too. It was down to Olga and Connie... Olga turned 90 last summer, and Connie... well Connie had been suffering from alzheimer's for years now.

My mom called me over the weekend to tell me that the two sisters were not doing well. I told my mom that I had a feeling they might pass at the same time. I just knew it in my heart. The sisters were always that way, feelings things the others were... sensing when something was wrong. They way you always imagine that sisters would, but somehow you never hear those kinds of stories, except maybe about twins.

Anyway, Connie died last night... and shortly after hearing the news, Olga went into a comatose state. I doubt she'll make it too much longer.

God bless them both and keep them well.

On a lighter note, this blog turns one tomorrow. Thanks, everyone, for your supportive readership... and in some cases, fabulous friendship!

When Darwin Fails

2005-06-13T08:06:00.000-04:00

OK, let me preface this by saying I am not a parent. So, OK maybe I would have handled things differently, and maybe not.

Wait, that is total BULLSH**.

You'd have to be a raging @$$hole to do this.

So this woman in CA has a 12 year old son and 2 pit bulls. A male and a female. And apparently the female was in heat, so the male was overprotective... and I guess a little aggressive. So, fearing for her son's well being, she does what any logically-thinking parent would do... she locks her son in the basement and lets the dogs roam around the house.

(?>!>!>!>!>>>>>???????? WHAT???????)

And of course the kid behaves like any 12 year old and breaks out of the basement. To tragic consequences... he was mauled to death by the dogs.

So what we've learned here is that darwin's theory doesn't always take care of the weakest link. The son, who should never have been left alone with the dogs (never mind locked in a basement) is dead. The dogs, which may or may not have been improperly trained, are dead (the female was shot by police and the male is set to be put down). But the mom... the brightest one out of the bunch is still walking around.

Happy Monday.

yum!

2005-06-10T22:59:00.000-04:00

This, my friends, is what love looks like.

Yes... just like a cupcake from Magnolia bakery (insert gurgling noises here).

I must thank Stevie for bringing them back from NYC for me. I am sad, because all I have left of them is this picture... and the empty box taunting me from the kitchen counter.

Alas, sometimes love has to end. But the memory... mmmmmmmmmmmm.

Birthday Wishes

2005-06-09T07:31:00.000-04:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TURTLE !!!!!

Awwwwww... the turtle turns 33 today.
I hope he has a wonderful day!

No one saw but you...

2005-06-06T19:53:00.000-04:00

There is no one watching me, yet still I am concerned that my face is revealing far too much of what consumes me. I bite the inside of my bottom lip and look down. My eye twitches a little. I am doing a very poor job of containing this thing, I think.

I am thinking of Lloyd Cole then "...and don't it make you smile, like a forest fire."

Damned existential conflagration.
And I am grinning while my cheeks warm to the flames.

I lie in bed, on top of the sheets and sweat... watching the blades of the fan turning above my head. Hoping they will divine some hidden path. Why is it not just a fan? Nothing is what it should be anymore. There is a noise outside and my brain, without my consent, hopes I will find a giraffe nibbling the leaves of the tree beyond my window. I ask you to bring me ice and your response makes me giggle. I am drifting away and you are saying something. I want to see your lips move. I want you to hold me down. I am afraid I am dissipating like curls of smoke.

Please pin me down. I can't feel you. But I am burning.

Any Ideas?

2005-06-05T12:34:00.000-04:00

Before I visit a country I have never been to before, I like to take a little trip through the literature... fiction, non-fiction... whatever... just to begin to mentally prepare myself. So now, obviously, I am trying to figure out what to read to prepare for my upcoming trip to India. I have had a couple good suggestions from people, but I thought I would open the question up to you all... since many of my regular readers are either living in India or are from there.

So tell me, please... what books about India do you think I should read before I leave? And do tell me why... I mean, if I get a long list, I'll need some way to narrow them down. I am a fast reader, but I only have a bit less than 2 months to get cracking. Oh, and another thing... I am not a big fan of biographies... to get me to read one it would have to be really, and I mean *really* good.

Thanks in advance!

And oh, I realize I have been a little light on interesting content lately. I've been busy, and well... excuses aside... I have not been in the mood to write. So please be patient... the squirrel will return to regular programming shortly.

Music Meme (thanks, Johnny Crash!!!!!!!)

2005-05-30T12:19:00.000-04:00

Total volume of music files on my computer:
Oooooo. well...home or work? Or on my Archos? Um, it's a lot. Don't make me add it up. I hate math.

The last CD I bought was:
Here's a toughie. Sheesh. It could have been the Garden State Soundtrack. Yeah, I know... for a girl who loves music the way I do, I do not purchase a lot of it. I am lucky. I have a friend a FABULOUS friend who hand-selects only the best tracks from stuff and makes me disks. Then if I really love it I go out and buy it. I do also find stuff on my own.

Songs playing right now
car: A mix I have made with the following songs... although not necessarily in this order... am doing this from memory as the disk is actually in the car!

Frou Frou Hear Me Out
Pernice Brothers Water Ban
Turin Brakes Painkiller
Style Council Ever Changing Mood
General Public Never You Done That
Dionne Ferris Hopeless
Neneh Cherry and Youssou N'Dour 7 Seconds
The Cardigans For What It's Worth
Marshall Crenshaw Blues Is King
Texas Say What You Want (crap is that the name??)
La Ley/Ely Guerra El Duelo

Something by Freedy Johnston, whom I love.... and oh faaaaaack.... Steve.... who sings "Circular Quay"??

home:
Am right now listening to a random playlist off of Musicmatch, which I use at home. At this very second it's Spirits In the Night by Springsteen.

work:
A strange mix of insane stuff... everything from Mariah Carey to Martha Wainwright. And yes... Joe Satriani... don't ask.

Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me:
This was an inhuman task for me. Five songs? You're shitting me. It's like musical Sophie's Choice... so I just grabbed 5.

Simply Red Stars (it's one of my "omen" songs... whenever I hear it I meet someone interesting...plus it's one of the most perfect pop songs ever written)

Neil Finn Anytime (a song about how you never know when you're going to die. Finn's voice is amazing and the lyrics make me shiver... the line "and I won't let go of the first clear moment I saw you... make it so easy to fly in the night" is gorgeous, even when you realize he's speaking of death)

Fuzon Tere Bina (was introduced to this song about a year ago, and I still go on binges with it. It's one of those songs you simply cannot stop playing... over and over and over... there is a building crescendo with strings that makes me want to stand on the top of a mountain in a strong wind and spin around like a dervish)

Remy Zero Fair (is high on my playlist right now cause it remind me of someone)

Psychedelic Furs Ghost In You (one of the songs from the soundtrack of my life)

Five people to whom I’m passing the baton:
STEVE (cause you love this kind of thing... music... not memes)
TRANSIENCE (cause I have no idea what you listen to beyond Bjork and the Foo Fighters)
KISHORE (cause I know it will make you insane... hahahah..... )
PALLAVI (cause you were a good sport about the interview and you seem to like music a lot)
COCAINE JESUS (cause I love your taste in music and I cannot wait to see the answers)

(Andy, I would have picked you but I guessed you might be too busy.... but jump on in, too, if you can!)

Dancing With Trays

2005-05-28T08:30:00.000-04:00

It is only 8:30 AM and I have been up for hours. I am on my second cup of coffee... and I am out of milk. I should have switched to espresso.

I had a nightmare last night about waitressing.

In between college and graduate school I took a year off. I worked as a waitress in the small, southern town where I went to college. It was an odd year... a time to think and find myself. Many of my friends stayed in town that year, and we each confronted our own demons in turn. There was no lack of fun, but somehow the undercurrent of that time for each of us was the constant refrain of "this is just a pit stop. this is NOT my life." But it was our lives, for that time at least.

The restaurant I worked in was a tavern of sorts. It had a bar with a zillion kinds of beer, and offered foods like hummus, tempeh, and other veg fare. Meat, too... but it was really a haven for the locals, especially the "earthy" crowd. And we got our share of tourists visiting town, as it is the site of a civil war battle.

The restuarant was busy almost all the time, so the money was good. And if you caught me on a busy weekend night, I was running like a dog in my uniform of a t-shirt, short black skirt and black doc martens shoes.

Waitressing is an art. Either you've got the mind for it or you don't. You have to be able to order a million things in your head at once, keep them all straight, and smile like nobody's business all the while. And you have to deal with assholes. And carry heavy trays. And deal with grouchy line cooks. It is a highly choreographed dance. One wrong step, and you throw the whole thing off.

I was good at it. I loved the order. I loved the rushing around and the challenge. I even loved the grouchy, alcoholic hippie line cooks (oh shannon, whatever became of you?). But there were nights when I thought I might lose it. My tables are full, kids screaming, I bring my tray down to start passing out drinks and an over-eager customer decides to grab one himself... upsetting the balance and causing all five remaining glasses of iced tea to spill everywhere. Of course, it's my fault. And at table 3, even though I told the woman that she probably wanted the hamburger and not the tempeh, she ordered it anyway. Now she hates it and tells me she thought it was meat. Oh why did the hostess double-seat me? What do you mean we're out of the special already? No Ken, I ordered 2 bean and grain burgers and one omlette, not the other way around. Look at the ticket. Yeah I called it correctly. I always do... you're just too high to remember. Where is the hostess with the MacEwan's for table 2? Jesus, I asked her for that 10 minutes ago. There goes my tip. Oh my god, the afternnon crew forgot to make the chocolate mousse... so off I go with all my tables full to start a batch in the back hallway. I have had to pee for 3 hours, and I'll hold it for at least an hour more.

Best Cover Song EVER

2005-05-24T07:50:00.000-04:00

This morning I opened up my email to find that Stevie had sent me the best possible thing I never thought of.

The Foo Fighters covering Gerry Rafferty's "Baker Street"

My god. It's EFFING BRILLIANT. I think I have listened to it like 5 times already this morning.

I know you're all sitting there thinking "I don't have a clue what song that is!" But as soon as you hear the opening chords, you'd be like OH YEAH! It's one of those songs... everyone knows it.

I'll try to find a good link to the original and put it up here sometime today.
Here is my favorite part of the lyrics:

Winding your way down to baker street
Light in your head and dead on your feet
Well another crazy day
You’ll drink the night away
And forget about everything

This city desert makes you feel so cold
Its got so many people but it’s got no soul
And it’s taking you so long
To find out you were wrong
When you thought it held everything

You still think that it was so easy
You used to say that it was so easy
But you’re trying, you’re trying now

Another year and then you’d be happy
Just one more year and then you’d be happy
But you’re crying, you’re crying now

Anyway, my day is made. Thanks Stevie. You are the best, no matter what I say about ya later! :)

2005-05-22T19:26:00.000-04:00

This was taken last November just after a storm when I was in Anzio, Italy.

I thought of this picture tonight because it's getting ready to pour and although the sky is not nearly as beautiful, something about the air is the same.

But God do I wish I was in Italy right now. I realized just the other day that 2005 will be the first time in *years* that I will not be going. It made me sad. But given my other plans there is no way I will make it there. And this year of all years. Around the same time I would normally go, my cousin will be giving birth to her twins. And oh, by that time Filippo will be talking if he isn't already. And I already miss everyone terribly... and it's only been six months.

sigh.

I guess you can't have your masala dosa and eat your risotto con fungi too. hee.

Stemming the Flow

2005-05-22T14:52:00.000-04:00

The squirrel is hemorrhaging money.

I am normally not a spender. I mean, I am not a tightwad either, just pretty frugal usually. But for some reason, within the past two or so months, I have gone on a spending jag. Nothing too extravagant or ridiculous... and probably just making up for months of not spending. But I am getting sticker shock none-the-less.

What have I managed to purchase, you ask?
Well, a heap of new clothes for work, some shoes, seemingly a million meals out, drinks with friends, clothes for my trip, the plane ticket, immunizations my insurance will not cover (costing me as much as the plane fare!)... the list goes on.

oh well.
Time to go get ready to meet friends for dinner :)

(obviously not doing so well with "stemming the flow".... hahahha

following

2005-05-17T20:24:00.000-04:00

I am unfolding now
in this haphazard, imperfect way
unsure of this growth
a surge
then slowed to an imperceptible crawl
only to wake and find myself
miles from where I began
nothing familiar
and yet every cell inside me
knows this path already

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

2005-05-16T19:47:00.000-04:00

OK. So I was standing on my balcony about 10 minutes ago having a bit of a freak out. I did something dumb today, and was having one of my normal conversations with God.

"Right" I said in typical me fashion "um, OK so I am a dumb-ass. We both know it. But it's alright. Right? Right? Give me a sign here... I don't care what it is but you know me... I am a friggin idiot so make it good. "

"Like what? I don't know. You're God. I am sure you can figure something out. I don't care if a bird shits on me at this point. OK, that's a good idea... a bird... there are plenty of 'em around."

"You're laughing at me now aren't you? You think this is funny I suppose."

Silence

"Nice, thanks."

I stand there for a little while. Then I look up. And there is a pelican flying over my building.
A friggin PELICAN.
I live in the middle of nowhere. There should probably not be pelicans flying around.

So right. Thanks God. I get it.
Be careful what you ask for.
And thanks!

A little mind block

2005-05-14T13:15:00.000-04:00

I realized while talking to my aunt last weekend that I haven't read anything in a while. That is very unlike me. As a matter of fact, I am usually reading more than one book at a time. But thinking back, it's been a couple of months now since I started a new book.

What's even more odd is that I have selections lying about from some of my favorite authors, and still I am not tempted to pick them up. The Polysyllabic Spree by Nick Hornby has been staring me down for 2 months now, and I've yet to get past the first page. And normally I would be chomping at the bit, especially given the topic... it's a book about books. Hornby does wonderful things with lists... books, music... it's very enticing to me. Well, normally. Now I seem to be immune to all things literary.

It could be that my head is too chock full of other things to cram foreign images and themes along for the ride. Or maybe that is just what I need... a distraction. Someone else's reality... or someone else's made-up world.

My mind has wandered away a dozen times just while I have been trying to write this... I want chocolate ice cream, or to bury my feet in burning hot sand. I wish I were in Rome drinking Crodino and deciding what to eat for dinner. A million things to imagine, and I cannot seem to pick up a book.

Shocking Musical Confessions #1

2005-05-09T08:06:00.000-04:00

I love Mariah Carey's single We Belong Together

There. I've said it. I feel much better now.

(Unless you all start to ridicule me)

I had a chance to out myself on this one this weekend, and I couldn't do it. I was out to dinner with a friend, and he had the guts to admit that he actually likes her new album. I just looked down at my thai curry, mumbled something... and changed the subject. I wasn't ready to admit something like this. Maybe he had worked through his issues in advance. But me? Not even close. I was still secretly watching the video in my apartment with the volume on low so my neighbors would not find out.

But this morning the jig was up. I was in my car going to work and it came on the radio. And I was singing along. And I realized... "oh shit... I know all the words!" And then it happened... I was at a stoplight, and the person in the car next to me caught me.... SINGING ALONG WITH MARIAH CAREY.

What's more? I lived through it. And its made me a stronger person.
So I felt I was ready to admit it to all of you.
Please be gentle with me.

the weight of time

2005-05-07T08:39:00.000-04:00

days fly past but seconds loom like an eternity
I look around me and everything is strange yet I am still here, still wandering the same footpath I made just yesterday, and the day before that.

I am filled with words... streaming, flowing... threating to pull me under or wash me away at any moment...

I find myself staring at objects for inordinate amounts of time... 15 mintues gazing, out of focus, at a CD jewel case... another 5 spent pondering the carpet. Words are swirling and taking shape... and then lose form and simply float around me like dust.

I am at once sullen... absentmindedly picking the cuticle of a nail and watching the shadows move. The mood mysteriously breaks and then the phone rings... and I hear my own laughter. I wonder if it always sounded so rich and throaty.

I reconfigure my life a thousand different ways.. all in my head... like moving imaginary furniture. But I cannot pay someone else to shoulder the burden. It is my weight to bear alone. I am left heaving only from the thought. Slowly pieces click into place... ever so slowly I can sense shapes and forms...

But still, my god still, I am waiting.

run run run

2005-05-04T17:21:00.000-04:00

I saw these goslings for the first time on my way home from work yesterday. By the time I got home and grabbed my camera, the parents had already hidden them away.

So today when I saw them again I pulled right over. I tried not to get too close, cause I did not want to freak them out... and also cause canada geese can be downright evil when they feel threatened.

There were 4 adorable, fluffy yellow goslings, and they never stopped running around. It was virtually impossible to snap them.

There was even one tough little guy with a wonky foot who was always lagging behind the others... he wobbled along just fine... but I worry about him. At one point they all crossed the street, and because his foot was wonky he could not get up the curb... and cars were coming. So I ran into the road (it's a *busy* intersection) and stopped traffic.

I wanted to give him a chance to get up on his own, but he kept falling onto his back while his parents sat there honking.

I finally ran over and gave him a gentle nudge on his fluffy little bottom the next time he jumped up. As he made it over the curb, I heard a round of applause come from the line of 10 or so cars I had held up to make sure he did not get hit.

I hope he makes it.

from great heights

2005-05-01T12:30:00.000-04:00

Got to find the brightness in the soul
Not look outside to find out where we are
Oh you won't be satisfied
Till you make posessions of the stars

She's making it all come true... this time

"all come true"
world party

Important Lesson #36

2005-04-28T22:25:00.000-04:00

If you have horizontal blinds, and it is at night, and you leave them partially open by even a crack and have a light on... someone, somewhere can see into your apartment as if you had just left them wide open.

Why do I bring this up?
Interesting you should ask!

So I sleep with my blinds up. Yeah, I do not put them up until after I shut out all the lights. I am not a complete moron. But I put them up for a number of good reasons. The main one is that my cats will play with them all night long and annoy the living shit out of me.

And I like ambient light.

So anyway, tonight I am lying in bed, getting ready to fall asleep.... and I can see the couple in the next building over getting ready for bed. They put down the blinds, but they do not adjust the slats. And they leave the light on. So really, they might as well just have left them up. Because a couple minutes later when I opened my eyes again... WOW.... well! Let's just say.... right.... ahem.... spring is in the air? Sheesh. What an eyeful.

So unless you want your neighbors to unintentionally (or intentionally!) learn your favorite tantric positions... please... either make sure your blinds are completely closed... or switch off the lights.

YEOW!

The Squirrel Books a Journey

2005-04-26T14:30:00.000-04:00

Well, I've made my reservations.
The squirrel is going to INDIA.

Finally, after years of failed attempts at getting my ass all the way there, I have managed to work it all out and I am going in July for 12 days. Yes I realize that is a short trip. It's all I can manage right now.

Well, and I am going in February, too. For a month. But that is another story.

So hooray! My brain is fried.
Now I just need a visa. And more immunizations than I care to think about right now.

Hee.

2005-04-24T17:15:00.000-04:00

strange days upon us now
we leave the dust of conversation
hanging in the light above the bed
leave me now
cause tonight it's driving me mad
I guess i'll be alright
but tonight it's driving me mad
year after year
demons always come
fail to materialize
way beyond my understanding
find my only comfort in your hands
hold me now
cause tonight it's driving me mad
this dream can fill you up
but tonight it's driving me mad

"driving me mad" by neil finn

(this photo has been manipulated using photoshop)

2005-04-21T21:25:00.000-04:00

this tulip caught my eye on the way home from work yesterday. that line... that brilliant yellow line running up one of the petals... its a mistake... a beautiful genetic error that makes this flower so imperfectly perfect.

Q and A.... Spicy and Squirrely!

2005-04-19T21:47:00.000-04:00

Well, Johnny Crash started it, and spread the love to Spicy Cauldron
and now here you have it... interview with a squirrel

my answers to five questions as asked to me, by spicy...

1. How have you ever known a perfect moment for what it is?

Ah. I think I wrote about this in this space once. I have recognized perfect moments… and I recognize they are occurring when my heart begs and pleads with me to remember every little detail of something. It’s like an indicator bell. The yearning to record the moment is like a signal screaming to me “this is perfection Jessica. Capture it. Remember every detail so you can keep it with you.”

The devouring of a sweet orange while looking out the window during a train ride is what I think I wrote about here. There have been others. Two weekends ago, I had another perfect moment… outside, laying on the grass underneath some cherry trees.

What is odd is that in both of these memories I am alone. Ask anyone who knows me well, “alone” would not necessarily appear in my definition of perfection.

2. What was the most recent addition to your wardrobe, and why?

Timely! I just went shopping a couple weeks ago and bought a lot of things, actually. So no single item. There were some lovely chocolate brown heels, a pair of black kitten-heels, and well… some pink sequined flip flops.

I also purchased some new clothes for work… 2 short, flouncy skirts (very spring in DC), 2 pairs of stripey pants (in a business fashionista sense, not a “look at me I am a stick of fruit-stripe gum sense”) and some summer-weight sweaters (a necessity in office buildings with blazing a/c).

3. If you had a pair of time- and space-travelling ruby slippers, where would you journey to and why?

This is a toughie for me. Shit. OK, I am going to go out on a limb here. I would take back my decision to attend grad school in DC, and accept at NYU instead. I should have lived in Manhattan when I had the chance. I know I should say something much more interesting for this answer… but I am not a history buff, so that kind of thing is out…

Although, I would really and truly loved to have met Frida Kahlo. So… hmmmmm…

4. Tell us a ghost story that's true because it happened to you.

Well, I am not sure I believe in ghosts per se. Like in the ouiji board, pots and pans flying about some haunted kitchen kind of thing. But I do not think that is what you were asking. I believe in god, and I believe there are other energies. I have been pretty careful in my life to not really try to communicate directly with negativity. That is too scary.

But I remember when I wanted to know if god was real. I was at a time when faith was not enough. I wanted proof. I sat at stared at this light fixture that had a bunch of bulbs in it. I said to god “fine, you exist… prove it…” and at that moment one of the bulbs popped… nothing dramatic.. just subtle enough. It might have been coincidence... who knows. But I smiled and that was the beginning of a good relationship.

5. Henry Miller wrote that 'the goal of life is not to possess power, but to radiate it'. Discuss entirely from your own perspective.

Well I think some people naturally want to hoard power… whatever power is for them… money, beauty, could be anything. Just stash it away and keep it for themselves. But that doesn’t bring any joy in the end… there is no real power or joy in making yourself strong to the detriment of others. When you can lift everyone else up with you, even above you… then and only then can you experience real happiness.

** if you are interested in getting 5 questions of your own to answer, let me know.... how many of you can truly say you've been interviwed by a squirrel! :)

locked out

2005-04-16T14:07:00.000-04:00

if there was a key
to loose that padlock
would it be of iron
weighty and black
authoritarian in its
ability to make you
open up
or would it be as simple
as a fleeting glance
or a long forgotten scent
might it be found in
the screaming silence
of the things we dare not say
or maybe
it's lost and floating
while your mind
runs like a toddler
on a drunkard's wobbly legs

2005-04-14T18:13:00.000-04:00

how did it go so fast
you'll say
as we are looking back
and then we'll understand
we held gold dust
in our hands

"gold dust" -tori amos

2005-04-10T19:44:00.000-04:00

surrounded by blossoms

2005-04-10T19:42:00.000-04:00

it was the most beautiful day. all of the flowering trees in my neighborhood finally reached their peak. I went out this afternoon and sat underneath them, amazed by how many flowers there were. in the middle of the grove of trees, looking up, I could barely see the sky. I sat for a long time out there, letting the sun warm me while I played with ladybugs.

renewal

2005-04-09T22:09:00.000-04:00

it is a tantalizingly warm spring night and I am sitting on the hill behind my building. I am mesmerized by the blurred haze of the city in the distance and the lights of the highway. I am looking out over the trees, sitting on the ground with my shoes off. the earth is radiating the heat from the day and yet the grass is cool and almost dewey, though there was no rain today.

my head is swimming with thoughts that come from nowhere and everywhere, coming at me with no shape or form that I can grasp... just colors and emotions. I close my eyes and breathe in and out and in and out and it is like meditation then... just my breath and color and the breeze that smells of brand new blossoms.

and I wish you were here to witness this. it is unremarkable, yet it is everything. I have nothing else to say to you today. just breathing and color and a breeze that smells of brand new blossoms.

2005-04-08T22:42:00.000-04:00

the rome gutter

We had just had a relaxed lunch after walking around all morning at the villa borghese. We were standing around on the street deciding what to do next, when I looked down and saw this clover* growing out of a crack in the stone for the gutter. I was taken with it... here was this little bit of life trying so hard to make a home in such inhospitable conditions. It was a lovely reminder that sometimes the impossible is really not so far out of reach. And that beauty can be found in the most unlikely places.

*clover is also a good luck symbol. I don't have any real clover for you, captain, but best of luck as you head down this new path. You'll be great... I just know it.

Diary of a Small Squirrel

BLOCKED BY THE INDIAN GOVERNMENT

POLITICAL RANT

And She's Back!

So I Guess This Is Goodbye

Home is where the... uh...

So You Had A Bad Day

Leaving... well, not New York exactly, but....

Annoyance at Giant

The journey before the journey

Hooray for Television

Language Rant

The Squirrel Has Returned

Squirrely Adventures

The rich are getting... stupider.

PANDA LOVE

First Squirrely Rant of 2006 (almost)

Crusin' for a Divine Bruisin'

Looking Forward to a New Year

CONFIDENTIAL TO JOHNNY DAMON

Nightswimming

God did NOT ask you to annoy me...

World AIDS Day

SHAMEFUL

Yeah, Yeah -You Know Who You Are

Get Your @$$ Out There and VOTE

EW

Secrets

Godforsaken

Crash

I am a sensitive girl

NOT. ONE. WORD.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Seasonal Yumminess

My Blog is Arsed

From the Archives

Book Meme

Untitled I

The Squirrel Takes a Mini-Break

Scenes of Hassan from the car

the squirrel goes on another rant... this time for good reason

SORRY! WHOOPS!

F*#K YOU COMMENT SPAMMERS

Return of the Mack

And She's Off!

Squirrely Vacations

fluidity

Why I Love My Television

Mad Cow, Asinine Tom, and Congrats are in Order

The Countdown Begins

Birthday Wishes

And So It Goes

When Darwin Fails

yum!

Birthday Wishes

No one saw but you...

Any Ideas?

Music Meme (thanks, Johnny Crash!!!!!!!)

Dancing With Trays

Best Cover Song *EVER*

Stemming the Flow

following

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

A little mind block

Shocking Musical Confessions #1

the weight of time

run run run

from great heights

Important Lesson #36

The Squirrel Books a Journey

Q and A.... Spicy and Squirrely!

locked out

renewal

Best Cover Song EVER