Weight Watchers New Daily Points - Week#2

I won't be going for an official weigh-in today as we're having a "Team Christmas Lunch."   (I've looked at the menu for the place we're going and the Monte Cristo is calling my name.)  However, I did do a weigh-in, at home, this morning and I was pleased with the results.  I always weigh myself naked at home on weigh-in days just so I know what to expect.  With clothes, I'm usually about 2 pounds heavier at my official noon weigh-in.  So I'm estimating that I've lost .6 pounds this week.

I have to say that I am excited about that!  I had two Christmas parties this week and I definitely dipped into my exercise points to cover the Dunkin Donuts I had at my second job last night.  I am not ashamed that I indulged in the donuts as I was able to fully resist the Cheesecake Factory Cheesecake at my office party earlier that day. 

So this puts me at 3 pounds down since I started the new Daily Points with Weight Watchers.  If I can stick within my point limits through the holidays, I am confident that I could see another loss at the scale next week.  This definitely makes me feel that I can reach my lifetime goal by my birthday in 68 days, or at least get really, really close to it.

It's the prospect of maintenance that scares me.  Can I really maintain my weight, within 2 pounds, for six weeks once I switch to the maintenance phase and have more daily points?  And what about after that?  I do like that lifetime membership now comes with free e-tools.  I don't know how I would be able to maintain my weight loss without it and I didn't relish the idea of paying the $12.95  a month to keep it up.

The Times, They Are A Changin'

I saw a post on Facebook today that made me realize I'm moving into the next phase of Hallmark life.  There was a time when the "kids" would get together after work for some much needed down/bitch time.  We would go to dinners together, or hang out at some one's house, etc.  There was a time when I was invited to those.

I completely understand the need to have fun time with one's co-workers outside of work, especially at Hallmark and especially at Christmastime.  That being said, there are certain people that wouldn't make it the cathartic experience it needs to be.   I've usually straddled that line; hanging out with the "kids" or  relaxing with the "ladies."  But I might have officially crossed over that "kid" line.  I am not upset that I wasn't invited, that's not the point.  It's just a realization that time progresses and things move on.

It's sort of a Hallmark No-man's land.   I'm not quite old enough to be part of the "ladies,"  I don't have their life experiences or worries.  And I don't have the same perspective that the "girls" have anymore.  I have more concrete worries and responsibilities; a better understanding of how things work or need to work.  Hallmark isn't my career but then it's not my until I'm finished with school job either.  All the "girls' I started with, twelve years ago, have gone off into their respective careers and started families, etc.  It was about my age when my decade buddy left Hallmark to have her first child.

I wonder if she felt the way I do about Hallmark when she was in my shoes.

Weight Watchers New Daily Points - Week#1

I had my weigh-in this week and I have to say that I was really pleased.  I am officially down 2.4 pounds from my previous weigh-in.  According to Weight Watchers this is about .4 pounds too much and they are concerned I'm losing too much too quickly.  (The average weight loss should be no more than 2 pounds a week for healthy weight loss.)   I see it as a perfect storm kind of thing; my cycle has finally ended thus shedding some water weight, I've adhered to the new point plus system as closely as possible, and I'm finally getting better from this cold.  So I'm not concerned about the extra .4.

April Fool's 2 years, 8 months, and 12 days later....

There are times when you realize that you want something too much.  It makes you vulnerable and gives others the opportunity to use that against you.  Today, I was duped by a more than two year old April Fool's joke by the BBC.  (This is the problem with the Internet, things don't die here.)

It involved the possibility of recovering lost episodes of Doctor Who from the 60's using bounce back radio waves.  All my Doctor Who fans will know exactly how elated I was at the mere mention of this.  So excited was I that I immediately shared on Facebook and e-mailed to my fellow Whovians.  Then I notice the date and, instead of feeling incredibly stupid, feel an incredible sense of loss.  I really, really wanted this to be true.

Typing it now, I realize how silly the entire concept is  I mean radio waves degrade over time and space.  That's why I have to change from NPR Baltimore to DC when I get to work.  It's the sharing with a somewhat cool guy who will hold this against me that makes me feel stupid.  Always, always check your sources!  Then, check the dates on those sources and finally, do a Google Search.  Odds are, someone else fell for it before you did and may have written about it in hopes of saving you the same fate.  And always remember: If it's too good to be true, it usually is.

Points Plus 2012

We just got our new Points Plus 2012 packets today!  I'm kind of excited about the changes, though they aren't nearly as tumultuous as last year's presentation of the Points Plus program.  I've been struggling with losing weight for the past six months or so.  It could be emotional, laziness, or some other factor. Thankfully, Weight Watchers has made a few tweaks to the Points Plus Program and they're challenging me to get back on track.

Here's what I've learned so far:

1. Weight Watchers has recalculated daily points values for a lot of the people who were at low end of that spectrum.
2. Wine is now 3 points plus for 4 oz, instead of the 4 I've been calculating.
3. Beer is now 5 points plus for 12 oz, instead of the 4 I've been calculating.  (sad face)
4. There will now be activity goals.

I will return with updates as soon as I've lived with this newish plan a little bit.

December

I'm starting off December with a cold I caught from my sister while visiting her for Thanksgiving.  After a week of progressively worse symptoms, despite my attempts to self-medicate with DayQuil/NyQuil/Mucinex, I finally went to the Target Clinic this past weekend.  It was actually a pleasant experience.

I had some free time before my Hallmark shift and knew I had very limited PTO at my day job, so I got out of bed earlier than I felt like it and went to the Target near my Hallmark job.  I figured even if the wait for the Clinic was ridiculous at least I would already be in the area for work.  The wait was exactly half an hour and they gave me a pager so I could walk around the store or go get some tea in the café.  This proved to be the best part of the service they offered, simply because walking around kept my sinuses clearer and allowed me to feel a little less miserable.

It was determined that I should have anti-biotics.  Now, I hate to take anti-biotics unless absolutely necessary.  They are over prescribed, pumped into our farm animals, and we're in danger of letting the bacteria evolve past our ability to treat it.  But having gone more than a week with my usual cold medicines and developing a nagging hacking cough after about a week of trying to treat this, I realized that maybe there is more going on than the common cold.  So I surrendered and started the anti-biotic yesterday.  Fortunately, I can already say things are looking up.  I don't think I'm quite back to singing ability, but my voice doesn't sound like my smoker grandmother's either.

Now, I am sitting at my desk trying not to cough as often as I need to.  I know how annoying it is for everyone else in the office and I've even had one girl ban me from her area entirely.  Apparently, when I get sick even if it's only for a couple of days, because I have the immune system of steel, it's really bad and it takes everyone else several weeks to recover.  Most of us have used our PTO and are just trying to make it through these next three weeks as quickly and as healthy as possible, so I understand her paranoia.  But it still hurts my feelings a little bit.

Elephants

Have you ever sat down and realized that maybe you know too much about Elephants?

I'm going to guess the answer is, "no," for most people.  But I had that moment this weekend, visiting my sister and mother for Thanksgiving.  We were having dinner with my sister, her girlfriend, and her girlfriend's uncle when the conversation turned to Elephants as it naturally would.  Like, did you realize that Elephants walk on their tiptoes?  They have a cushion under the toes to help support them, but it means that they can sneak up on you if they want.  Which makes my mom's joke about elephants wearing sneakers irrelevant.

For me, the obsession with this Pachyderm really started with the free copy of Zoobooks that came in the mail.  It was always the one about the Elephant and my parents never subscribed for the others.  This was the source of most of my knowledge about Elephants and I remember it very fondly.

My favorite part about the Zoobook was the poster of all the extinct varieties of Elephants.  It told me that there was an extinct type of Elephant that was no bigger than a dog.  And part of me really wants a Bichon-sized Elephant to take on car trips with me.  Think about how awesome that would be.

My most recent information binge about the animal was a documentary about Elephants suffering from PTSD.  The elephants in zoos and circuses killing their trainers out of the blue is because of the PTSD they suffer from witnessing their parents getting shot by poachers.  The baby elephants are left with the corpse until a rescue organization whisks them away to protective shelters.  All seems fine and dandy until something causes them to snap and then they go on a killing rampage.  They method used most often to kill a human being: crush a person's chest with your massive skull.

Except for poachers and dwindling habitat, the adult Elephant has no natural predators.  The elephant's trunk can uproot a tree or pluck a single flower.   They are also considered as intelligent as dolphins and there's a zoo elephant that creates artwork. 

Counting Down to the GMAT

In exactly one month, I will take the GMAT.

I'm starting to get a little concerned about it.  I've signed up for grockit.com and the more math problems I do on there, the more my projected score goes down.

I saw the amount of work my sister is doing for school and I'm starting to worry that I will be biting off more than I can chew. 

Panic is good at this point, right?

Dad's 59th

My father's 59th birthday was this weekend and it amazes me how my parents seem so much younger than my grandparents did at the same age.  It could be because the pictures of my grandparents at that age were taken in the 80's, or it could be their behaviors.  Of course, I would never have seen the side of my grandparents that I see of my dad simply because of my age at the time.


Dad and his friend, Ona, circa Friday night



Mommom and Poppop, circa 1980's



New New Beetle

I've seen a total of three brand new 2012 Beetles out on the road recently.  The problem is that I didn't recognize them until I was almost past them.  I'm not sure if this is because I'm just not used to seeing the new body style yet or if they are truly blending in with the other cars out on the road.  To be fair, the three I've seen have been Grey, Black or White.

When sitting next to the Classic Beetle or even the New Beetle from a year ago, I can see the resemblance.  Though this 2012 Beetle looks more like the Classic Beetle than its previous incarnation, I don't think it stands out like the older Beetles do.  I was excited about this new version when I saw it in the showroom and I dared any salesman to try and talk me into a trade-in.  But now that I've almost missed them on the road three times, I wonder if I'm not better off where I am.

My favorite postcard from the last promotional campaign for the 1996 New Beetle was one that featured a fill in the blank.  On the front of the postcard was a picture of a Giant Space Shuttle and a line of cars the size of ants next to it.  At the top left-hand of the photo was written "Oh look, there's a ________." When you flipped the card over the answer was given as ". . .a yellow one."  Sure enough, down at the base of the Space Shuttle was a yellow New Beetle in the line of cars.

The problem is that these 2012 Beetles aren't jumping out from the crowd for me.  They are getting lost in the shuffle of traffic and what I've always liked about the Beetle is that it's unique.

Barbie

A friend of my sister's posted a link on Facebook today that really got my ire up.  She posted about how the Barbie Doll's measurements were unrealistic and included this photo.

First of all, let me say that the Barbie Doll measurements are in no way meant to be an indication of what a real life, full size, woman's measurement should be.  It's the nature of working with scale models.  When scaling something down, ratios have to be adjusted so that the miniature looks more realistic.  You can see from the photo that trying to take the miniature's ratios and apply them to a full size model creates a ridiculous image.  If you were to compare this full size model to an actual pre-1997 Barbie doll, you wouldn't think they were proportioned the same at all.  (I say pre-1997 Barbie Doll because she was changed in 1997 to give her fuller hips, a thicker waist, and a smaller bust.  The measurements quoted in this post were the ratios used on the pre-1997 Barbie Doll.)

Second, the post goes on to say that "Slumber Party Barbie was introduced in 1965 and came with a bathroom scale permanently set at 110 pounds with a book entitled 'How to Lose Weight' with directions inside stating, simply: 'Don’t eat.'"  People commented about how that fact takes everything that Mattel says to defend Barbie Doll and throws it out the window.  I would like to point out that this particular fact happened in 1965 and that no current Barbie Doll or any Barbie Doll introduced in the last twenty years has attempted to recreate that "dieting" tip.  (It could very easily say, "don't OVER eat," in a current incarnation, however.)   Any defense that Mattel has put up about Barbie Doll and creating unrealistic expectations has happened more recently than its 1965 Slumber Party Barbie.  Am I saying that I agree with the "dieting tip" presented in the 1965 set? No.  Do I think it's terrible that a children's toy ever had that on it?  Yes.  Do I think we can use that as evidence for why Barbie Doll is a poor toy choice for current boys and girls? Absolutely not.  Every brand is allowed to grow and change with the times, even Cookie Monster now tells kids that cookies are a sometimes food. 

In 1992, Mattel created a doll that would say 4 of 270 phrases.  One of those phrases was "math class is tough."  The American Association of University Women took offense at this and demanded it be removed from one of the possible phrases.  (FYI - this phrase is often misquoted as "Math is hard.")  Did she say she couldn't do math, or that girls in general couldn't or shouldn't do math?  I could understand demanding the removal of those phrases.  But, let me tell you, I'm studying for the GMAT right now and the part that's the toughest for me is the Quantitative, a.k.a Math.  We all have challenges we face and, yes, they are tough.  It's important to acknowledge when something is difficult and then challenge ourselves to improve.  Not every girl, or every person for matter, is inherently good at Math, or Languages, or Sports, or Cooking, or Artistry, or Computer Programming.  But you know who has done all of these things and more, successfully?  Barbie Doll.

Yes, in 1965, she was given bad dieting advice and shared it with her girlfriends.  Who hasn't?  When we focus on this one aspect of Barbie Doll, we forget all the other things she's done to inspire and empower girls.  A key phrase I remember from Barbie Doll commercials in the 80's was, "We girls can do anything."  She was the President of the United States, an Ambassador for World Peace, and a UNICEF Summit Diplomat.  She's had humble beginnings as a McDonald's Cashier, then worked her way from a Secretary to a Business Executive.  She may have found Math to be tough, but she was still able to be a Pilot, an Astronaut (twice), and a Computer Engineer.  She's been a Firefighter, a Police Officer, a Life Guard, a Military Service Member of four United States Branches of Service, and a Canadian Mountie. Barbie Doll is a blank slate onto which we project our hopes, our dreams, and our fears.  She is a reflection of our culture through the last 50+ years.  The things we don't like about the Barbie Doll are the things we don't like about ourselves, as individuals and as a culture.

7 Years Ago . . .

Guppy Gulch SCUBA Diving Quarry from Flickr.com member hergen family

Seven years ago today, I was on my way up to Guppy Gulch for my SCUBA diving class checkout.  My dad didn't want me to go and I was determined to overcome fear.  It was a beautiful place and the water was ice cold.  I'll just say it didn't end well and leave it at that.  I swore I would return within 5 years and successfully complete the checkout, thereby earning my SCUBA certification, but the very thought of putting on a wet suit still initiates a fight or flight response from me.

The sad part was that I really enjoyed the classes while I was taking them and I found SCUBA diving to be very relaxing.  There was something, at the time, very comforting about the silence being underwater offered.  Now, I go to sleep with the TV on to fill that kind of sound void.

This is what I thought of this morning.  There are things that never quite leave you no matter how much time passes.

Halloween Weekend in Baltimore

I was finally able to visit Westminster Hall Burying Ground and Catacombs, where Edgar Allan Poe is buried.  Every Halloween, Westminster Hall holds a celebration that allows visitors to tour the church, catacombs, and graveyard after dark.  This year it happened to be on Sunday, October 30th from 6 - 9pm and I was lucky enough to attend.

My friend, N, went with me and we stood in line for about an hour and a half before we were able to gain entrance.  I wasn't very impressed by the entertainment inside the church and we missed a lot of the other events (i.e. a reading of the Tell-Tale Heart in the Graveyard) while we were in line.  But occasionally an Edgar Allan Poe impersonator would entertain the people in line (he also gave a reading inside the hall).  The tour guides gave a lot of detailed information and entertaining stories about the residents.  I didn't realize that the church had been built after the fact, which is how the "catacombs" were created. I've driven by Poe's grave several times and I always note it to visitors, but I hadn't actually gone to the church or the site.

There was something very thrilling about being in the graveyard.  People were waiting in line while we roamed amongst the dead under the stars.  "Edgar" would walk around the graveyard, from time to time, and talk to people gawking at his grave.  It was a little bit spooky, a lot of fun, and absolutely perfect for Halloween.

Down

I've been trying to pull myself up and for the most part I'm doing very well.  Things have improved in the last few months and I feel like I am getting back to normal for the most part.  But this past week I've felt really sad and down.  I don't know if it's recent events or my own negative head space or the fact that it's almost pitch black when I get out of work or some combination thereof.  I just know that pretty much every day this past week I've been about three steps from crying.  Mostly a similar thought pattern takes me there, but I'm not 100% sure what has unearthed that particular strain. 

It just feels like a wave has come along and shifted the sand beneath me when I felt like I'd just gotten some solid footing.  It's okay, I always get back up again.  It's just annoying when I find myself knocked down with a mouth full of saltwater and another wave fast approaching.  But I'll get up and eventually ride one of those in to safety.

GMAT - Practice Test the First

According to the preliminary GMAT test I took on http://www.grockit.com/ this weekend, my projected score is between 550-650.  The actual score I received on this weekend's practice test was a 630.  Though, this was due, mostly, to my verbal and reading comprehension skills.  Out of a total 38 math questions, I got 9 correct.  It seems that I have forgotten everything from high school Algebra, Geometry and Pre-Calculus.  Yes, I transferred from a school that didn't start Geometry until 10th grade so I was somewhat behind my peers at my new school and never even got a whiff of a Trig textbook.

Taking this test, reminded me how much I'd forgotten.  There were things I used to use at my DTB job, like finding the area of a room so we could estimate how much to charge for carpet, etc.  But those things don't jump immediately to my mind.  And things like SAS (Side, Angle, Side) are familiar and I know I need them to help me solve a problem but I can't remember how or what it even means.  It makes me feel old and rusty, with just a little bit of stupid.

My sister said that the first practice test is supposed to make me feel this way.  That this is where I figure out how to improve for the actual test and that in a couple of months, after focusing on these problem areas, I will much better.  She also promised that the questions in the prep books are harder than the actual test.  I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I bought an entire workbook of GMAT "Quantitative" problems to help me.  I have $250 riding on this, not to mention possible B-school, I can't fuck it up now.

Side Note:  http://www.grockit.com/ seems to be a pretty cool site.  It helps people get ready for the SAT, GMAT, GRE, LSAT, AP Test, etc.  And it's at least one study resource that will let me work on things no matter where I am as long as I have a computer.  No need to lug all my books with me when I go to work or hang out at my dad's.  It also keeps track of my work and lets me know my strengths and weaknesses so I can work effectively.  I was also pleased to learn that for every subscription purchased, they donate a subscription to an underprivileged students program for those that didn't have a Ms. Hastings to get them through the SAT.  So I am helping myself get to a better future and helping someone else get to theirs.  It makes me feel better about the $29.99 a month I'll be paying for the subscription.

In Case You Didn't Believe Me....



Mom and Dad 1977




Annette and Frankie


They could be body doubles....

Happy Birthday Annette!

In honor of her 69th birthday, Annette Funicello has launched annetteconnection.

I was very excited to see this on my Facebook feed today as Annette was always one of my role models growing up.  How could she possibly be one of my role models you say? Seeing as she was famous in the 60's & 70's and I was born in 1981 I can understand how you would be confused.  But you fail to take into account that my sister and I grew up watching the Beach Party and Disney movies of the 60's and 70's.  We used to think that mom was like DeeDee and dad was like Frankie.  Then they divorced and no matter how many times you hear Annette sing the Parent Trap, it just isn't going to work out.  Of course, seeing as my father and my mom are still friends to this day, I guess my parents really did turn out like Frankie and Annette, IRL.

What made me even more excited than the launch of her website was the discovery of this gem in the news section:

Annette's new Fan Mail Address:

 

Annette Funicello

c/o Postmaster

Shafter, CA 93263

OMFG!!  I can write to Annette and tell her how much I adored her in the Beach Party movies.  (And when I adore someone, they stay adored.)  I can tell her about the life lessons I learned from watching her other films and how I strive to live my life in a manner that she would find pleasing.  Because that's not creepy at all.  Seriously though if I could go back in time and be best friends with any celebrity, it would be her.

Uncomfortable Work Experiences

Today is the day I set aside to have a talk with one of my co-workers.  Our receptionist had been helping me out with data entry into our warranty database.  For the first few months or so, I would double check her work and make sure everything was entered correctly.  Once I was sure she grasped the concepts I stopped checking.  On Monday, my boss called me into her office because she was finding some inaccurate warranty information in the database.  I started looking through the information and discovered that most of the information entered in 2011 was inaccurate.  (Warranty dates were calculated incorrectly, vendor information was wrong, customer information was wrong, and two invoices were entered as one.)  My boss asked me to talk with our receptionist about it and explain why we wouldn't need her to enter invoices anymore.  I said I would and I completely agreed with her.

But now that it's come down to it, I don't want to hurt this girl's feelings either.  My boss asked me again yesterday if I'd talked to her about it and I said I would today since it would give her a couple of days before she had to come back in.   This makes me wonder if my boss is looking to see how I handle this situation which makes me even more nervous about it.  I hate the idea of making anyone feel badly about themselves or just bad in general.  Then to think it's some kind of test for me as well makes it worse.  I might be over thinking that last bit.  It could simply be that my boss realizes this is my thing and doesn't want to step on my toes.

So I've practiced with my other co-worker.  Her suggestion was that I offer to retrain the girl and give her another chance, but I got the feeling from my boss that she would rather the information be accurate from the beginning.  An unreliable database does not give our department legs to stand on when arguing a different issue.  But I can't just say to this girl you can't do this anymore without giving her a chance to correct her mistakes and redeem herself.  Hopefully my boss understands.

October 20th - Ten Years Later

Ten years ago, I made a decision about my personal life.  I checked off one of life's milestones and haven't looked back since. I was completely mad for this guy.  And even though I had been religious in my middle school/early high school years, I came to the realization that I really wanted to have sex with my boyfriend.  It was something of an internal struggle for several months because I knew what I'd been taught but my heart was telling me something completely different.  I couldn't resolve these conflicting desires (the desire to be "good" and the desire to be with my boyfriend) so, I talked about it with my mother, my source for spiritual guidance, and her only advice was that, while she would prefer I not have sex before marriage, it was my own life and I had to make the decision for myself.  She also encouraged me to consider any and all consequences and judge whether or not I could handle them.  Then, I talked about it with my aunt, my source for worldly guidance, and her advice was that I should make sure to protect myself.  She also asked me if I was sure this was the right person.  She said that that particular event in life would be something I'd always remember and the person I was with would forever be connected to that memory. 
And, looking back now, that was probably the best advice I could have gotten on the subject.  It is the first piece of advice I offer to the new crop of youngins, after reminding them to make sure they protect themselves of course.  Because it is now ten years later and I do remember that day. When I think of that moment in my life, it is connected to the person I was with.  And you know what?  Even with the things that happened after and even with the way that relationship ended, I don't regret making that decision.  And I celebrate that decision on this particular date every year and re-evaluate how I feel about it.  I can still say that it was a positive choice and I'm grateful that I wasn't completely ignorant of the impact that decision would have on my life.  I'm glad that I had people I could talk to openly and honestly about it and that I took my time to think instead of following whatever impulse I had in the moment. 

But thinking about how I viewed sex then and where I am now, I can't help but laugh at myself.  If I were able to go back and talk to my 20 year old self, I don't know that I could say anything that would have made that decision easier.  The person I was then is most certainly not who I am now.  I know that this was part of a chapter in the volume of my life and so much of where I've been plays a part in where I am going.  I truly believe we are the sum of our life experiences and I hope that I will continue to make positive decisions that will help me to grow and change over time.  That I can look back ten years from now and realize that I've matured so much.  I hope that I don't look back on decisions and cringe with embarrassment or regret.  And I hope I can love who I will be at 40 just as much as I love who I am at 30 and who I was at 20.

GMAT

Yesterday, I officially signed up for the GMAT.  I will be taking it on December 29th at 11:00am.  I wish I could say I wasn't nervous about the entire thing.  I mean, I know that is common for test taking in general but I am nervous about the amount of work that will need to get done before my actual test day.  I just paid $250 to take the GMAT and if I don't put in the serious effort it will be a waste.  My friend, A, urged me to actually sign up for the test when I was complaining about my lack of motivation in studying.  She said that if I was signed up for it I would take it more seriously and if I figured if it worked for weight watchers (where I'm paying money for something so I feel compelled to stick with it) it would work for this.  It's a step in the direction of grad school.  A major step, leaving my comfort zone and taking a risk.  Granted, it's a calculated risk, but it's scary nonetheless.

A also suggested that I start out with taking a test just to gauge where I am.  I had thought I would read through the study book first and then take the test, but her suggestion makes a lot of sense.  I'll be taking a computerized practice test this Saturday around the same time I will take the real one and then I'm planning on taking another computerized practice version on December 2 to see what I need to really focus on before the actual test.  In between those I'll take paper or other computerized tests, if I can find free ones, to practice.  But these two I will approach as I would a real test day. So wish me luck. 

I'm not really sure what this will mean for NaNo this year.  My primary focus should be on the GMAT...so maybe when I need a break I can work on something creative?

Digital Meltdown

I just finished reading this "Digital Overload is Frying Our Brains" - Wired Article and I feel it has a very valid point.  I read a quote once, possibly by Mark Twain but I'm not sure now, about how the telephone was the most unnatural thing.  The point of that quote was that anyone could command your attention with the ringing of the bell in your telephone; no matter what one was doing one would stop to answer the phone.  I honestly wish I could find that quote now because it struck me as so very true when I read it that I have often considered it. 

This most recent article (but can't find now, of course) I've read sort of goes along with that thought.  The point of the article is that we are so plugged in these days that we don't have the down time our bodies and brains need to recharge and think effectively.  It talked about those a-ha moments in the shower and how some of our quiet space is slowly disappearing and our brains don't have time to work through things.

It made me wonder if I should start meditating.  Because I know I am too connected.  I check Facebook far too often and I always have my phone with me.  I could be ten times more efficient in my every day life if I didn't want to see if people are talking to me.  The article did say that, as human beings, we have this natural desire to feel connected to other people but that the social media and cellphones interrupt other things we need as human beings.  It might be good for me to clear my mind once in a while, especially with the GMAT studying on my plate.

NaNo Ideas

I saw a commercial last night that really made me think about NaNo.  It was the new Playstation 3 "Michael" Commercial for their Long Live Play advertising campaign.  In the commercial, soldiers from Call of Duty make a hasty escape to a medieval looking tavern filled with other characters from Playstation 3 games.  Each of them describes a situation when they felt they were down and out and Michael stepped into "help" them out.  At the end, they salute "Michael" and the camera pans out to show several other gamers photos on the walls of this place. 

It really made me think of Jasper Fforde and his novels where literary characters can interact with each other in the BookWorld.  Here are several game characters hanging out in a bar saluting their player that controls them through the different levels of their respective games.  It has the same reverence that one would attribute to a deity or to the reader in Fforde's novels.  (Though, in Fforde's novels it's the author that controls the actions of the characters and the readers are merely the audience to the production.  But a reader could influence the way a character appears, as noted in the most recent novel that Harry Potter will forever look like Daniel Radcliffe because that's how the readers imagine him.)



from sharenator.com

 Cleolinda jones has a similar congregation in her Secret Life of Dolls and I sincerely wish I had that level of creativity.  I know I've written on this theme in previous NaNo's but it is incredibly seductive to this literary fangirl.  Who wouldn't want to put his or her favorite characters in a room together and see what happens?  Think about Murder by Death or certain commercials for television line-ups.   Even the recent season finale of Doctor Who with the whole history of time happening at once was a similar idea.  (Winston Churchill as Caesar and Charles Dickens writing Christmas specials for TV!!)

Laugh-in Predicts the Future

Re-posted from my LiveJournal.  I just thought it was an interesting entry and wanted to share it here:

In one such episode of Laugh-in, Rowan & Martin focus on money and the problem with Credit in this country during the 1960's.  The most interesting part was a skit about trying to buy a plane ticket at the airport. The premise being that one day cash will be meaningless.  Set 30 years in the future, Dan Rowan goes up to a counter womanned by Jo Anne Worley and proceeds to ask for a ticket to a destination.  She tells him the price of the ticket, a whopping $400, and he pulls out his wallet to pay cash.  Jo Anne Worley's character balks at the idea and asks for his Credit card instead.  They have a dialog about how he just wants to pay cash and she ends up calling management.  She is incredulous that a person would pay cash for a plane ticket but is reassured by the "management" she can accept that form of payment.  So she hangs up the phone and asks for his Cash Card.  Obviously, much funnier seen than read, but it's important to know the details. 

At the time the skit was written, it was humorous because it was so over the top.  Obviously, there was a kernel of truth in it but the point was to take it to an extreme.  This is how comedy works, after all. One of the more important details of this skit, is when Jo Anne Worley's character says to Dan Rowan's, "Well, I need some form of Identification."  In our modern world, some 30 years after this skit was written and performed, this isn't that ridiculous.  A person could certainly purchase an airline ticket with cash, but they will be scrutinized for fear of the terrorist agenda.  It is much more likely that a person will purchase their ticket using a credit card or, even more likely, a debit card.  (In this case, the idea of a "cash card" is not too different from our modern Debit cards.)  And, of course, identification must always be presented and verified for any flight.  It was kind of eerie to see how accurate this skit has become.  Even more interesting, looking back at the collapse of the housing market and subsequent recession, is to think of the role Credit has played in our current situations and how it was a concern even 30 years ago.

Layaway

Photo courtesy: TheTruthAbout via Flickr

I saw a commercial last night for the return of Layaway at Wal-Mart.  My Hallmark store has always offered layaway, especially during ornament season, but we've seen a definite increase in the number of customers utilizing this service this year.  So I thought it was interesting when I saw a Big Retail Store returning to this service as well.  It truly is a sign of the times and the struggling retail industry.  No one really wants to use their credit card, or they have already used it to the max, but they want to provide a decent holiday for their families.  So layaway provides a reasonable alternative.

Our Layaway sales haven't just been for ornaments either, which is surprising to me.  On November 6th, we will have Jim Shore for an in-store signing event and customers are already making their purchases.  We've had people layaway pillow pets, jewelry items, and other holiday gifts.  Our selling point, particularly for the ornaments, has been that we'll store all your holiday stuff for you while you make layaway payments.  (We don't have a strict schedule, you just have to pick it up by December 1st.)  It makes it easier to hide gifts from family members.

I remember when I was younger, my dad seemed to always have a layaway at the local K-Mart.  We even had school clothes on layaway one year.  I can understand why Credit Cards became the popular form of buy now, pay later though.  With a card, one could take the purchased items home right away whereas layaway requires a little more patience.  But a major benefit of layaway was the lack of interest rate and the ability to pay for an item in full before receiving it for use and destruction.  How many people have holiday debt they continue to carry from year to year for items that have long since been donated or thrown out?  Also, if one was unable to pay for the layaway in full there was a minor penalty at the store but one was able to get back most of the money that was paid.

I'm glad to see this make a comeback.  Overall, I think it will be a healthier option for our holiday over indulgences.  Of course, we need to pare back our spending habits overall -  I speak from the heart on this one, having made many of my own poor choices, financially speaking - but this will at least alleviate that credit card burden so many are carrying around.  It provides the ability to purchase things one can legitimately afford.  I think it will also cause many people to really consider their purchases if they don't have the immediate gratification a credit card provides.


Layaway Making A Comeback - MSNBC Article
"Retailers to Revive Layaway to Entice Budget Conscious Shoppers" - Fox Business Article

NaNoWriMo - Prep

In approximately twenty-four days, National Novel Writing Month will commence.  Last year, I made it about 5,114 words into the event and stopped writing.  I've been attempting to write a novel in 30 days as long as I've been attending the Maryland Renaissance Festival Regularly, a.k.a. since 2004.  This will be my eighth attempt.

It's foolish really.  I should be spending any extra time studying for the GMAT.  (to be fair that is my focus for the rest of October, so hopefully I can get the bulk of that out of the way and just take practice tests throughout November.)  I have cut back hours at Hallmark recently, in preparation for GMAT and eventually quitting to go back to school, so I should be able to write more than I have in previous years.  Though, again, I am sure there are better things I should be doing with that time.

I'm not as motivated about it as my friend, K.  I find I am very jealous of her ability to create continuously like that.  I often worry that I have lost that ability or, at least, that drive.  K finishes every year.  She's told me that they are mostly post-apocalyptic adventures with her friends.  I just get so caught up with characters and the "why?" of things that I find myself stuck in the creative mire.  Or, halfway through, I realize I hate everything I've done and can't transition out of it.  K always recommends killing all the characters and then moving on to the next story.  Which, for word count, makes sense but I always want it to flow for some reason.

So why am I already thinking about NaNo and what I could write about?  I never finish it.  My ideas sit half-formed in dark corners of hard drives.  But maybe this year...

October 5th

I always find myself a little melancholy on this day.  I could completely forget it was the fifth, but I would still wake up on this day just feeling out of place; just slightly left of center, not quite normal.  14 years ago, it was a Sunday.  Friends of mom's, from church, had dropped us off and we received some of the worst news I've heard in my young life. 

I'm re-posting a story from Creative Non-Fiction class back in 2004.  When I wrote it, I was trying to capture how it felt during that time and a little bit after.  I think about my grandmother's death every year on the anniversary, but it's not something that bothers me as it once did.  I have come to terms with the events of that weekend and what it has meant in my life.  I say this because a note from my professor, when I turned in the story, suggested that I talk to a counselor at school if these things were still a problem.  I was taken aback when she said it 1)because it was a story somewhat based in reality but amped up, but not indicative of my, then, current feelings on the matter and 2) it was the first time anyone had suggested it to me.  No one had thought about it when I was going through the grieving and subsequent bullshit and I just didn't realize it was something people did.  Go to counseling because you can't deal with something?  Only normal people do that.

It's weird to read through it now.  My writing style feels completely different to me.  It's almost like someone else wrote it.  It sounds very young to me and the transitions from topic to topic feel disjointed.  I remember that when I wrote it I tried to imagine delivering it as a monologue, so that probably accounts for some of it.  If I wrote it today, it would be completely different.  It would be a little more positive, I think, more nostalgic.  I remember thinking it was one of the better things I'd written and that's part of the reason I was going to re-post it here.  But reading it now, I don't think that's true.  Or if it is one of the better things I've written, I give myself too much credit on more recent things I've written.  Still I'll re-post,  give me something to reflect on in about ten years or so.  We'll see how much my writing style has changed by then.

Anyway, here it is, pretty much unedited, though ,so be nice in the comments, if you leave any.

My grandmother’s death was very unexpected. The entire family was surprised, though we shouldn’t have been. We should have known. We should have known every time we walked into her house, when we were greeted by a wall of cigarette smoke. Every time she would say, “ I am so sick with my head,” we should have known. Her breakfast of coffee and Excedrin, everyday, should have been an indication, but we were still surprised. Even if some of us had heeded the warning of her cough, she never did. Even if we had heeded the warning it would pass from memory soon after.

She was everything to the family, everything. Of course she would never allow her self to become anything less than the very center, the heart, of the family. She was the cause and the comfort in almost every family conflict. All of the adults in the family had suffered her wrath at one point or another. She had her set opinions and guidelines for everyone’s life. Any alteration from these specifications was justification for reprimand.

When my aunt was younger, she would sneak out of her room to meet with the neighbor kids. One night, when my grandmother finally caught her, my grandmother asked her, “ When are you gonna quit acting like a gyp-dog in heat?” My grandmother was never at a loss for words or clever turn of phrase. She would exact her revenge quickly and often when least expected. When my father finally came out of the closet to me and my sister, my grandmother used her spare key to let herself into the apartment one day while everyone was gone. That day she emptied my father’s home of all the things she had ever given him. His grandmother’s plate, with the colonial couple painted on it, was removed from its hanger on the wall and given to my aunt. My father came home that weekend to find his walls bare, save the hanging fixtures. He says that was one of his most depressing days.

I forget how my father found his way back into her good graces. Undoubtedly, my aunt had done something to fall from favor momentarily. They were always on this teeter-totter of approval. I cannot remember a time when they were both on my grandmother’s good side, but there are plenty of occasions where they were both banished. Then, my father and aunt would be friends and not rivals. These times, however, did not last long as they were always seeking my grandmother’s approval.

I was not made aware of these antics until much later in my young life. Thanksgiving was always my favorite time. We had a tradition of hiding a rubber cockroach in someone’s plate. When I think about it now it seems really gross, but at the time it was so much fun. When I look back at the videos of thanksgivings past I can see the struggle between the adults. It’s not very pronounced, but whichever family member was out of favor usually received the cockroach. It was not until my seventeenth year that I realized what it meant to be an adult. She’d always been the perfect grandmother. Watching me and my sister, while my parents worked. My grandmother was always on this pedestal for me. In the summer time she would make ham sandwiches for me and my sister, making sure to cut the crusts off and layering the ham the way our parents never would. She made the best chicken noodle casserole, and all of my memories of her are positive. Save one, save one.

It was October of my junior year in high school, early October. My mother had fallen on some ice earlier in the year and was still using a walker to walk. She wasn’t driving and we relied on friends and relatives to transport us to and fro. My grandmother had stopped by my mother’s apartment earlier that day to invite us up for the afternoon. Of course, we accepted. Mom wanted to watch some Christian Men’s rally on TV with my grandmother. That had been a big topic of discussion at church since a group of our "Christian brothers" were planning to go. I had stopped going to church when my Sunday school teacher told me my father was going to hell.  My father was a fine Christian and I saw no reason why he should be condemned to an eternity of suffering when he had enough of it on Earth. My decision to support my father in his lifestyle did not bode well with my grandmother, but she had yet to tell me her opinion.

I remember it was a Saturday afternoon and we’d picked up a pizza from Pizza Hut. Everyone else had finished eating and I sat at the table eating the last slice of cheese pizza. My grandmother was in her usual Pink chair with her gnarled feet resting on the matching ottoman. There was a cigarette dangling from her fingertips. She and my mother were discussing the rally, the fine moral characters of the men at the rally. Then, for some reason I can’t remember, I said, “Mommom, Can’t you see that these men are closed-minded hate mongers?” These were the exact words my father had used when he talked about the Christian rally.

She looked directly at me, flicked her cigarette ash in the ash tray beside her chair, and said,” You’re just repeating what your father told you. You couldn’t possibly think that’s true.”

“I do,” I told her, and I really did believe that at the time. I told her that they wouldn’t allow minorities to attend the rally and that was wrong.

Again, she flicked her cigarette. Then she exchanged a glance with my mother and then immediately back to me. I felt like I was under scrutiny by some meticulous drill sergeant. “You’ve changed, Becky, and not for the better.” She then turned her attention back to the TV , but her words resounded in my ears like an echo in a hollow cave.

The judgement doesn’t sound so severe when written down, but it still echoes in my heart today. You’ve changed, Becky, and not for the better. She said little else to me that day and when she called Sunday afternoon she only spoke with my sister about the Orioles score. Mom’s newly married friends were driving us back to our father’s house that evening and I resented her for it. I barely new these people and did not want to spend the better part of an hour in their smelly car. Unfortunately, I had no choice in the matter and was locked in their car. My sister said, “Goodbye,” to my grandmother, hung up the phone and joined me in our prison for the next hour. I wish that I had know what was to happen and I would never had left.

When we finally reached my father’s house, I noticed that only Jim’s car was in the driveway. This meant that my father wasn’t home, only his domestic partner. Jim was waiting for us. “Your father went to your grandmother’s. He tried to wait for you, but had to go. I don’t know the best way to tell you this. Your grandmother is in the hospital.”

My mind was flooded with a million questions but there were no answers until my father called a few minutes later. He was crying, and I have very few memories of my father crying. She had had an aneurysm. Apparently when she had gotten off the phone with my sister, she had gotten up to go to the bathroom. On her way there, she collapsed. The paramedics say she was dead before she hit the floor. If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. We were surprised, but we shouldn’t have been.

And every night before I go to sleep I hear those words. You’ve changed, Becky, and not for the better. You’ve changed, Becky, and not for the better. I hear those words and I hear her saying them, and I cry in to my pillow so I won’t wake my sister. I cry silent tears every day and wish that I could go back. At the funeral, everyone thought it was great that each family member had gotten to spend time with her before she died. I agree, but they don’t know the words that are rumbling around inside my head and beating in my heart. You’ve changed, Becky, and not for the better. I wish I hadn’t fought with her that Saturday. I wish I had talked to her on the phone that Sunday, then I could remember her saying something else. I wish a million different things about that weekend, but it’s not reality. I didn’t know, and I was surprised.

Randomness

This morning, while searching through Etsy for possible co-worker Christmas gift ideas, I came across a Halloween costume (A Roman Toga) that brought up a neglected memory for me.

Picture this:  Little Town, Havre de Grace, 1993, seventh grade social studies class with Mr. Ewart.  We were studying the Ancient Greek and Roman Civilizations and were present projects to the class.  Some people made traditional Greek or Italian foods for mass consumption, some made dioramas, others present special reports on aspects of these ancient lives.  I decided to focus on the clothing, for some reason.  I wasn't exactly fashion conscious in those days, and not much better now, so I'm not sure why I picked this one.  Except that possibly it had the chance I would get to dress in a costume.

I remember that Mom was very helpful in putting together my presentation.  We went to the library together and she helped me to do some of my first major research as a student.  We found this amazing book that gave detailed descriptions of how the articles of clothing were shaped and then worn.  Because the measurements for these garments would have required a lot of fabric and extra help in displaying them to the class, it was decided that it would be easier for me to show the proper way to wear a Palla (or a Pallium for the men) if I made Barbie sized costumes.

Mom did a great job putting together a Tunic for my Derek Rocker Barbie doll and a Stola for my Dana Rocker Barbie Doll.  We wrapped a gold colored ribbon around the torso of the Dana Doll and mom used gold colored cross-stitch floss as the closures on the Stola.  Our research told us that the color, purple, was an indicator of royalty or at least the very wealthy so we chose that for the Palla and Pallium.  They were made out of felt and wrapped very easily around the dolls.  Then mom cut out little shoes, using a tan color felt, and sewed them to the feet of the dolls using the gold-colored floss so they looked like sandals.

I kept those dolls in those costumes for a very long time and tried to incorporate them into the story lines my sister and I would create.  I kind of wish I had them today or at the very least a picture of them.  I remember them being so detailed and cool.  I wish I had these memories of my mother more readily available.

Existential Joss Whedon

I picked up a copy of The Existential Joss Whedon: Evil and Human Freedom in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, and Serenity, by J. Michael Richardson and J. Douglas Rabb, on the Kindle app on my phone.  (Normal copy would cost about $35 and the Kindle edition was $15.)  I have only read through about 14% of it, but I am having a hard time putting it down.  First of all, it discusses important plot lines and character development from one (some) of my favorite shows.  Second, it breaks down Existentialism into digestible pieces of information that I can comprehend.

The one that caught my attention last night was in chapter three, entitled "Buffy, Faith, and Bad Faith: Choosing to Be the Chosen One."  In the chapter it starts discussing Jean-Paul Sartre and the episode of Firefly, "Objects in Space."  The Richardson and Rabb talk about Sartre's idea of freedom.

We also encounter other people.  Unlike mere physical objects, they too have freedom, plans and projects which may, Sartre would say must, conflict with our own.  To reduce this conflict we do what we can, always in Bad Faith, to negate their freedom or to deny our own freedom.  At some level, we also want to be recognized by these other persons, but recognized as free conscious beings, not the mere things or objects to which they, also in Bad Faith, would like to reduce us in order to preserve their own precious freedom.  

And it just sort of clicked for me.  Of course, the example in the book of a woman out on a date could have helped with that as well.  It is incredibly easy to think of other people as two dimensional characters or objects filling up the spaces in our lives.  We are the center of our own lives; the stars of our own sitcoms, if you will, and everyone else is a supporting cast member. 

When I'm driving, usually home from a long day, I often think about the people in the other cars on the road.  They are all going somewhere, with some agenda in mind, and we wish everyone else would get off the road so we could get where we're going faster.  I often think that my problem is that I "deny [my] own freedom" too much when interacting with other people.  I'm far more concerned about the well being of others than I am about myself.  I have this sense of fairness that few people seem to have.  I will be paralyzed by indecision or avoid a situation altogether rather than make a choice that will cause someone to be harmed in some way.  Of course, this is not healthy and I am getting better at it. 

Dream Screens

A friend of mine posted this article on Facebook the other day: Gizmodo Article - Scientists Reconstruct Video Clips from Brain Activity.  And I couldn't help but find it fascinating.  Of course, the idea of being able to record one's own dreams is exciting.  Most of mine are pretty entertaining and make for great story ideas.  But, of course, I never seem to finish them before the enthusiasm runs out or before pieces of it start to fade.  Others are confusing or down right embarrassing, so I don't know that I would want to relive those in my waking hours.  It would certainly help with the analyzing of dreams as one must rely entirely upon one's own memory for these things. 

I was thinking mostly of the movie, Bicentennial Man, and the scene where the father asks to have his daughter's wedding replayed so he can relive the memory.  Aren't there a few memories you wish you could revisit with a little more clarity?  Once they perfect this new scientific ability, and include sound, there are a lot of things I would like to remember.  Like the sound of my Mommom's voice.  I can almost remember it, but it's been so long I'm not even sure if it's close any more.  My Poppop dancing with a broom while I waited for the school bus. 

Then I wonder, if you could perfect this technology to the point where one could call up memories at will.  Would this be viable evidence in court cases?  Could we monitor brain activity as a person goes through their day?  One could almost go paranoid about the possibilities.  I mean the thought police could become a legitimate thing.  For every cool possibility there is also a frightening application.

Elton John and Tim Rice's Aida

Today is my sister's two year anniversary with her girlfriend.  It hasn't been an easy road for either of them, but I am glad to see that they are willing to work together through the rough spots.  It's really what a grown-up relationship is about and I'm glad that my sister has found someone with whom she can be happy even through the worst of times.   They are going to see a production of Wicked in Atlanta to celebrate.  Neither of them has seen the play, only heard the music, and I am loathe to tell them anything about it.  Though I did tell my sister that the ending was not what I expected. (She reads this blog, so I won't go into detail.)

This started us on a discussion of  "uplifting" musicals we've seen.  Starting with Les Miserables, which is probably one of the most depressing stories ever.  But such a wonderful show that I have seen it several times.  Then on to Phantom of the Opera, which seems happy in theory but really the Phantom is a sad character.  Finally, my sister brings up Aida.

Many years ago, my father took us to see the  Disney production of Aida, written by Elton John and Tim Rice, and I find I often think of it.  At the time, I identified a lot with the character of Amneris.  She's in love/engaged to Radames and he's in love with Aida.  In any love triangle, I will always identify with the one that has been left behind; Amneris, Eponine, Duckie. 

We talked about the oh so "happy" ending where Aida and Radames are buried alive together but find each other again thousands of years later in their reincarnated forms.  Which is all well and good for Aida and Radames but what about Amneris?  Oh sure, she gets to be queen and rule over Egypt.

Then I realized that I've been thinking about this musical in completely the wrong fashion.  Sure Aida and Radames confessed undying love for each other and get a second chance to have a life together.  But Amneris is really the winner here.  Had she and Radames married, he would have become Pharoah in Egypt and she would have continued on as merely his wife, pretending to be content to throw parties and wear fashionable clothes for attention.  If he hadn't met Aida when he did, he most likely would have still gone on to extra-marital affairs and both he and Amneris would have lived an unhappy and empty life alone together.

But, thankfully, he did cheat on his fiancée and betray his entire country in the name of love or something like that.   Amneris had to assume the throne upon the death of her father, since there was no husband in sight, and subsequently brought about a generation of peace and prosperity to her people.  Of course, she then at to sit in judgement of her former fiancé in court, which is always awkward.   But being a new leader and knowing that her former lover was involved in honest to goodness treason, Amneris had little choice but to uphold the laws of her people in his punishment.  Plus there is the added bonus of burying her ex and his lover alive together.  It's really a win-win-win when you think about it.

Ten Years...



littlesam @ the WTC

 My father took this picture on a trip to NYC more than a decade ago.  I always thought it was a cool picture but, now, it's chilling to think about how important it's become in my father's photo albums because of the 9/11 Attacks.  It makes me think of how temporary life can be.  I don't just mean the lives of individuals, though none of us are guaranteed tomorrow, but the transience of everything around us. 

My family typically vacations on Hatteras Island in North Carolina the week after Labor Day, in the off season.  We have a routine, places we visit, and restaurants we know.  This year, we had to move a little bit to the north and rent a place on Bodie Island because of the most recent hurricane.  (Irene opened up a new inlet on Hatteras Island and destroyed the highway in about four places.)  The photos of the aftermath are sad.  Our familiar places are boarded up and the residents are completely cut-off from the mainland.  I am not trying to compare this to the World Trade Center or even New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.  The residents of the Outer Banks will certainly feel the effects of Hurricane Irene for a while, but there is no comparison in terms of loss of life and devastation.  My point is that we build these lives and there is nothing permanent about them.

It brings me back to my favorite quote in A Passage to India:

It matters so little to the majority of living creatures what the minority, that calls itself human, desires or decides. Most of the inhabitants of India do not mind how India is governed. Nor are the lower animals of England concerned about England, but in the tropics the indifference is more prominent, the inarticulate world is closer at hand and readier to resume control as soon as men are tired. ~ A Passage to India, E.M. Forester.

I've also been watching Life After People on the History Channel, so I am sure that is influencing a lot of this entry.  The one I've recently seen was about the crumbling of buildings in cities without human maintenance.  They looked specifically at the abandoned buildings in Detroit and how they are weathering the elements without constant upkeep.  It was both interesting and frightening to watch how much effort goes into maintaining the ordered structure of our lives.  We take so many things for granted in this society, globally and nationally.

We are scrambling around trying to create meaning and order out of chaos and, for the most part, we do a very good job of it.  From our scientific hierarchy of biological classifications to sort and understand the organisms around us to Standard & Poor's financial rating system to help us understand if a country can pay off its debts to the Spectral Classification of Stars to Cosmo's "What Kind of Guy Are You Dating?" Quiz.  We want everything to fit in neat little boxes.  While these classifications and rating systems help us to digest information quickly, aide in a higher retention of knowledge, or help us make decisions about our lives, they also lull us into a false sense of security. 

What I learned on September 11, 2001 was that life isn't predictable.  There are some things you just can't manage or control no matter how much you may try.  Sometimes your family is out of touch in a dangerous area and you just have to wait for news.  Sometimes terrible things happen to very good people and there is no way to justify it.  I also learned that it's not always a question of right and wrong.  Which brings me to my other favorite quote:

How I envy the youg. For them everything is so clear. Things seem to be either one way or another. It is only with a little age that you begin to see life as a series of compromises. But even in compromising one must draw a line. ~Swing Kids (1993)

I am going to wrap up this entry because I can tell that I've touched on a lot of things but haven't really gone in depth with any them.  My brain is thinking much faster than I can type and I am afraid I will stop making sense.

Beach Time with the Fam



At the Lemon Drop - courtesy of Litlesam

 I just spent the last week at the beach with my family.  It was definitely an experience and a break I really needed.

The photo to the right was taken on our last day after we'd packed up the cars and were getting ready to leave for our respective homes.  My dad thinks it looks like a promo shot for a bad family sitcom.  Personally, I think television needs our smiling faces and positive outlook.  Or perhaps that's just me....

Accounting 101 - Mission Accomplished

I received my grades today!  Turns out I am pretty good at accelerated accounting classes at JCC.  Now I just have to study for the GMAT and then apply to Accounting Programs.  I'm headed in a direction and hopefully it's the right one.

First Scotch Tasting!

The Order of the Cask, Leaf, and Thought (a.k.a my Meetup Scotch Group) has their first official tasting last night.  Organized by founder, C.N., and J. at Bad Decisions, we were able to get a guided tasting of a flight of Balvenie.

The line-up was as follows:

The Balvenie, DoubleWood, 12 years
The Balvenie, Caribbean Cask, 14 years
The Balvenie, Single Barrel, 15 years
The Balvenie, Madeira Cask, 17 years
The Balvenie, Peated Cask, 17 years

I am still learning about the subtlety of Scotch and this was definitely a  fantastic event for furthering that education.  J., at Bad Decisions,  led us through each glass and gave a lot of detail about the tasting notes.  (i.e. the nose, the taste, and the finish)  He explained about the Balvenie process and how they create their special limited edition Scotches.

J. explicitly told us not to "fall in love" with the Caribbean Cask as it was very limited.  So, of course, this was dad's favorite of the five.  Dad said it reminded him of the cough syrup he used to get from our old town doctor, Dr. W.  It had a hint of cherry to it and I could definitely taste the Rum influence.  Stepdaddy M.'s favorite was, of course, the Peated Cask. 

Of the five tastings, my favorite was the Madeira Cask.  According to J., and the Balvenie website, this one has a "deep, luxurious aromas translate into an equally rewarding flavour. Initial sweet vanilla oak notes gradually develop into rich spices and dried fruits (apricots, figs, dates)."  I think it was the "sweet vanilla oak notes" that make this my favorite.  Of course, this was pushed to the side when the founding members were presented with a PortWood (21 years). 

JEMCON 2011

I have recently discovered that there is a JemCon in Holland this year.  Next year it will be in St. Louis and, since that is a lot easier for me to attend, I am trying to make my plans now.  As you have already witnessed, I have the Jem Costume all worked out.

The thing is this, I've never understood (your obsessive genre here) conventions.  I enjoy costumes and dressing up, but I just didn't "get" going to a convention with thousands of other people dressed in the same outfits. 

But this, JemCon, speaks to my inner child that always wished for the Jem costume.  The part of me that wanted to be an international superstar that helped charities and outsmarted the Misfits.  And I just might finally understand what all those Star Trek Fans have been doing after all.

The Morphinominal Project

My sister has started a project on Blogger.  She is analyzing the episodes of The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers to discover who the the most important Power Ranger was on the show.  She believes that by tracking who says the first and last lines on the show, who first appears on screen, who says, "It's morphin time."  and who kills the monster of the week in the episodes, she can statistically calculate which Ranger is the most powerful/important member of the team.  I think she is secretly hoping to discover that Kimberly is that Ranger, but I also think it's an interesting concept as well as a way to practice what she's learning in B-School.

So, check out The Morphinominal Project.

Surviving the Hurricane...

I have to say that I was quite disappointed in Hurricane Irene.  I was all ready to be hunkered down in my house with bowls of popcorn and loads of old movies.  But after an hour or so of cleaning my house, something that I've been avoiding for weeks now, I realized how incredibly bored I was and went out for lunch.

It was mostly light rain and wind until about some time after I went to bed.  I was seriously hoping for lightning or something that would make me glad I stayed home most of the day.

The negative aspect of this hurricane was that our vacation place in NC seems to be cut-off from the mainland.  (Every year, the dads rent a place on the Outer Banks for the week after Labor Day.)  I've already had a major vacation this year so I really shouldn't complain.  But I was so looking forward to some relaxing beach time.  It's all up in the air right now, but hopefully it all works out.

Doctor Who: Let's Kill Hitler

Doctor Who returned last night after a mid-season break.  I was concerned about how this returning episode would pick up after the events in "A Good Man Goes to War."

With a title like, "Let's Kill Hitler," I was intrigued but also concerned that we would have a one-off episode before getting back to the River Song/Pond Family story arc.  Thankfully, the title was a red herring and Hitler was locked in a broom cupboard for almost the entirety of the episode.

First, let's talk about the Teselecta.  Clearly Mels is not the only human being to consider using time travel to go back and "Kill Hitler."  The tiny humans, I'm guessing they're humans anyway, inside the Teselecta are already on their way to do the very same deed.  Honestly though, who hasn't thought of using time travel to go back and prevent some of the horrible things we learn about in history. The Justice Department humans, in the Teselecta, assume the form of a Wehrmact officer, in what has to be one of the coolest effects I've seen used for a robot that can change its shape at will, and head off to Hitler's office.  

What interests me about the Justice Department though is that they make a point of finding the "criminal" at the end of his or her timeline.  They aren't going back in time to stop what that individual may or may not have done.  I don't know if it has something to do with changing "fixed points" in history or what.  But I thought it was odd that they have the ability to go back in time and covertly kill an important historical figure yet we don't really talk about preventing the crimes in the first place.  Of course, I suppose it then goes into the ideas presented in "The Minority Report" where they question punishing someone for a crime they could potentially commit.

This brings me back to the Doctor and River.  The Justice Department decides to abandon their Hitler mission, they were too early, and go after Melody Pond instead.  Apparently she was a much bigger fish.  They go after her because ***spoiler alert***she kills the Doctor, as seen in the season opener.  Which makes me wonder, why did River stop Amy and Rory (in the opener) if she knew perfectly well what was going to happen?  Then she encouraged Amy and Rory to hide the news of his death from their current doctor when he showed up.  What does it mean?

I also found it quite disturbing that Mels ***spoiler alert*** is pre-regeneration River Song.  Well not the part where she is going to be River Song, but the part where she was a childhood friend of her parents.  Wikipedia tells me that this is an ontological paradox.  Meaning that by Mels being friends with her parents, she encourages their relationship (thus ensuring that she is born) and then provides a namesake for herself.  Kind of disturbing is thinking about when Melody received her combat/seduction training if she "grows up" with her parents.  Was she already an adult in a child's body?  Where was she living while they were all "growing up?"  Was she living with her Silence Captors and getting mixed messages about the Doctor?  Also disturbing is the way the Doctor dismisses finding baby Melody; telling them that they have too much fore-knowledge.  a) I know that Amy is not going to give up trying to find her baby and b)is the doctor that foolish to think that she would.
What I do love is the way that Alex Kingston plays this newly regenerated Melody Pond/River Song.  Like the Doctors before her, she is amazed by the outcome, checks out her new teeth, etc.  What I thought was funny at the time, but realize is kind of biased now, is that Mels tell them to shush because she's "concentrating on a dress size."  The Doctor is never concerned about his waist size, why is she?  Is this an indication of her age? Or because she's female and therefore more superficial?  To be fair, I would probably do the same thing if I could regenerate into someone new.  But if all you have to do is concentrate during the regeneration process, why is the Doctor never ginger as he always laments not being?  Or is it not a gurantee just a preference?

I felt like some things were thrown in to justify previous things in the series.  i.e. Melody saying that she would slowly try and age younger to throw people off - is this to explain why the actress is getting older even though her first appearce was the character's last timeline-wise.  Or having Melody ***spoiler alert*** give her remaining regenerations to save the Doctor.  I felt like this was to explain why we saw the character die in her first appearance.  But that was explained in the same episode when she knocked the Doctor unconscious and took his place, so why bring it up now?

I have so many questions and I sincerely hope we get them wrapped up before the series ends.  I love the Ponds and River, but I am ready to move on from this arc.














http://fuckyeahgallifrey.tumblr.com/post/9601264737/martinusmiraculorum-show-me-river-song

Earthquake!

I have lived 30 years in Maryland and never has the thought of a possible Earthquake entered my mind.  Now this is the second one I've experienced in the space of a year.  (Last year's I had just started dating my now ex and it woke me up at 5:00am.  I wasn't sure what it was and woke him up, he calmed me down and told me it was probably a dream.  I sort of wonder now if I should have taken this as some sort of sign.)

This year's I was sitting at my desk and the lights started flickering.  My boss came out of her office and yelled at us to get under our desks - she lived on the West Coast for several years.  The nearest thing I can compare it to would be a large truck driving by your house.  Or like when you were little and some asshole kid would grab whatever you were standing on and yell "earthquake!" while shaking it.  Except, this isn't some asshole kid and you can't step off the ladder, or chair, and find stable ground.  It's the whole building and all the ground outside. 

FACTS:
5.9 Earthquake
1:51pm est
Center - Virginia

I called my mother to let her know that I was perfectly fine, just a little shaken.  And she started talking about the end of times and how we'll know because of earthquakes and rumors of wars, etc.  a) there are always rumors of wars.  b) I found this handy article that was written after last year's earthquake that confirms east coast quakes are not as infrequent as we would like to believe.  Honestly, this could always be the end of the world as we know it.  Ten years ago, after the 9/11 attacks, the world as we knew it changed but it wasn't the end of the world.

This is like the Texas Sharp Shooter Fallacy I read about the other day.  Where there are completely unrelated events that are being used to support a single idea.

Riding Airplanes

I have to put this question out there:  Does anyone else take stock of the other passengers on an airplane before boarding?

What I mean is that I tend to look around and gauge how many children will be on my flight, how many elderly people, and how many religious fanatics.  No, it's not what you're thinking.

Unlike most people, if there are a lot of small children and infants on a plane, I feel more confident about my flight.  I'm not concerned about crying children preventing me from sleeping, I am just glad that nothing out of the ordinary will happen.  This is going to sound incredibly morbid, I think, but if there is an unusually large number of elderly people on a plane I tend to get a little nervous.  If a plane full of children crashes and everyone dies, it will be a bigger tragedy than a plane full of octogenarians.  My thinking is that at least they will have lived their lives.  I fall somewhere in the middle; I've had a good life and there is more I could achieve but I've still had a good run.  Children haven't truly had the opportunity to live so my irrational thinking is that the universe won't pluck them out of the air. 

Same thing goes for the overly religious.  If I'm on a plane with people returning from a mission trip, I get nervous.  With so many people, whose souls are "right" with God, it's fruit ripe for the picking.  Of course, in this scenario it's more to do with the state of one's soul and less to do with fate/karma/Murphy's law and therefore children would also bring about my death via plane crash.  Unless you would also think that God would not take a large number of children so soon.  But let's not dwell on that fallacy in my thinking.

For the most part, I am perfectly comfortable with flying.  (Though, I always call my family before I leave on a trip and before I get on the return flight home just in case.)  In my mind, though, no matter how safe something is there is always a chance that something will go wrong.  To be fair, I think less about this when I get in my car than I do an airplane and I am definitely more likely to be killed in a car accident than a plane crash.  The thing that gets me though is that should something go wrong on an airplane you are pretty much screwed.  Maybe you survive the landing/crash but do you really want to go through that?  A car crash, the possibility of help reaching me in time is far more likely.   Recovery would certainly suck just as much, but emergency medical attention is more readily available for car crashes.

To be honest, flying in an airplane is the closest I come to faith these days.  First, I have faith that the pilots are well trained, alert, not overworked, or having a bad day.  Second, I have faith that the airplane has been properly maintained, fueled, packed, and latched. (My return flight home, for the record, had no small children, 1 mission trip group, and something that leaked on me the entire flight.)  Third,  I have faith that the science behind flight is sound even though I don't understand it.  Fourth, I have faith that there is a reason I need to continue living past this point in time.  Some sort of purpose that has yet to be fulfilled. 

I'm not afraid of flying.  But I do have a fear of death and an overactive imagination.