My ten year high school reunion is this year. This realization conjures up a lot of different emotions for me: relief that I've been out of the petri-dish that was Greenhill for this long, shock that I'm really this old, nostalgia for my cuter days and wistful longing for all of the wide array of activities I was involved in, etc. I doubt I will attend. When I try to remember the names and faces of all the people I knew back then there are so few that I'm actually curious about. I'm still pretty much in touch with the people I care about.

You have to understand, I went to the same school from pre-school to 12th grade. It was like a family in a lot of ways (with all the good and bad implications that carries) and it was usually more stable and constant than my own life at home. But when it was all over it felt more like a prison I had lived in for so long I couldn't imagine any other reality. I was finally free to become any person I wanted to be without the constraints of dealing with a lifetime of other people's ideas of who and what I am or should be.

This probably sounds familiar to anyone who has ever graduated from highschool. I'm sure I've overdramatized it in my own head. I've rewritten the rejection I felt in 6th grade when my best friends shut me out because I tried out for the cheerleading squad into a tragedy of greek proportions. I've sensationalized the year I spent in 8th grade when no one would talk to me because a certain someone spread rumors that I was bulimic; or when my house burned down in 9th grade and some little shits were telling people my family had done it for the insurance money, or when the headmaster of the school pulled me into his office and told me he would personally insure that I got into a boarding school because some parents were saying that I was sexually promiscuous and an alcoholic.

Anyhoo, there were some bad times, but I'll admit there were some good ones too. And I can't express the happiness I felt today when Nicole sent me news of one of my all time favorite people: Chapin Rodriguez. Rock on Chapin, Rock on.

I think I found my calling. Director of photo shoots, finally a productive outlet for my bossy nature. I am so good at that it's scary. But alas and alack methinks it will probably never be. Oh well. In spite of the insanely beautiful and activity filled weekend my allergies are driving me completely insane! Highlights from this weekend:
1. Basketball on Friday and more basketball on Sunday. Actually, Sunday's games were huge letdowns, but after the Spurs/Mavs simulcast and double win on Friday my coping skills remain intact.
2. Barton Springs...twice
3. Time with my oldest friend. (Beware of people that have known you since you were three years old. They know absolutely everything about you and there's no fooling them.)
4. Two Hayao Miyazaki films -- he's the man!
5. An extremely successful photo shoot for Lilith.
6. Unfortunately, my Arabic class was postponed until next weekend - more on that later.

Haiku for Jason

Game on at Posse
Whose turn to buy a pitcher?
Dirk ist anziehend

On the page where I write these posts there is a little link that gives me the option to "enter safe mode." I'm not really sure what it does, but I wish there were a little button like that in my real life that I could just push when things start getting to be too much. I wrote a whole long entry outlining all the things that are wrong with me and my life, but I deleted the whole thing because it wasn't interesting enough for other people to read. How pathetic is that?

Mongolian Grille
seemed like a good idea
now my tummy aches

It's that time of year again...Spring is in the air, Daylight savings is behind us and the days are getting longer, trees are in bloom, birds are nesting and most importantly it's NBA PLAYOFF TIME!!!!!! Picture me shakin' my booty, raising the roof with my hands, and letting out a very high pitched "Ooh Ooh! Oh yeah! That's right uh huh oh yeah!" (So neither the Asians nor the Caucasians endowed me with the funky beat. A girl's still gotta do her thang y'all). Though I have to admit I'm a little disappointed with my Mavs, I still have faith. And if they don't pull through, I know I can still count on the Spurs. And if all else fails, there's still the Vince Carter and Alan Iverson eye candy to drool over, so it's all good. I let out a huge sigh of relief this morning when I discovered the Mavs will be playing Portland in the first round and not that evil L.A. team who shall not be named. I'm so excited I may resort to cheering. Look out! If you need me I'll be at the Posse.

Uhhhh, Hi. Does anyone else have a serious problem with everything that's been going down in Cuba lately? Somehow I doubt these human rights abuses are at the top of the U.S. military's priority list. Where are all the patriots shouting out for justice and the liberation of the Cuban people? Where is all the flashy coverage on the evening news? I work with Cuban refugees everyday and let me tell you, Castro isn't such a nice guy either. So come on you war-tootin' majority of the American public. We stand for justice and salvation, hope, freedom and democracy right? Bang your drums and wave your flags - we have a job to do. And once we're done there I know we won't rest until justice is brought to the people of Côte d'Ivoire, Sudan, North Korea, Zimbabwe, Myanmar and the like, right? Maybe not. Maybe they don't pose a threat to our national security. Or maybe they don't have enough oil to justify a pre-emptive action. It's hard to tell the difference anymore.

"If you assume that there's no hope, you guarantee that there will be no hope. If you assume that there is an instinct for freedom, that there are opportunities to change things, there's a chance you may contribute to making a better world. That's your choice" - Noam Chomsky

And another thing. This is crap.

Okay, I'm gonna write this real slowlike 'cause, you see, I am still hungover from Melissa's birthday party. Thank you Melissa for celebrating your birthday on a SUNDAY. Of course, I'm sure she's home in bed feeling a lot worse than I am right now so I can't really fault her. Highlights from the evening? Holding Luna, water baloon tossing with Zen master Chris, and the cigarette-shitting donkey.

So now we're going to war with Syria because GW is just positive they have chemical weapons too. Am I missing something or did I just block out the news the day we discovered weapons of mass distruction in Iraq? Ohhhh, I was supposed to forget that was ever the point? Now I get it!

However, the real reason for this post is this breaking news: It seems that a few people, other than my faithful commenters (love you guys), have actually read my blog. Including Tim over in jolly old England, and Steven over in jolly old East Austin. Woo Hoo!!! I feel so validated. Please feel free to leave me a comment if you stop by the site. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside just to know you care.

In other news, the season finale of Married by America is tonight. Life is sweet.

I've come to the realization that my immune system is absolutely shot. I'm sick again, for the third time this year! Ugh! I've been through a box of kleenex in 24 hours. I've already gone through the monster-sized bottle of vitamin c I bought the last time. My nose is chapped and red and scabby. I'm aching and sweating, and feverish and bitchy. You know that sick smell? I cannot escape it. "Maybe there's some sort of toxic mold growing in your house," Melissa suggests. Well that sure makes me feel better. By the way it's Melissa's birthday on Sunday. Our little girl's all grown up!

Also, I was surfing through blogs the other day. I had no idea how many are out there! It's like it's own subculture. The strangest thing though is when you happen across a blog and there's something about the author's voice. Something that makes you just certain that if you ever met this person you would become fast friends. Such a strange feeling about someone whom you really know nothing about, but there it is. Case in point: little.yellow.different.

Just so everyone's clear on what using non-lethal bullets on people who choose to test the first amendment (or even stand near people who do) looks like.

"The President is merely the most important among a large number of public servants. He should be supported or opposed exactly to the degree which is warranted by his good conduct or bad conduct, his efficiency or inefficiency in rendering loyal, able, and disinterested service to the Nation as a whole. Therefore it is absolutely necessary that there should be full liberty to tell the truth about his acts, and this means that it is exactly necessary to blame him when he does wrong as to praise him when he does right. Any other attitude in an American citizen is both base and servile. To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public. Nothing but the truth should be spoken about him or any one else. But it is even more important to tell the truth, pleasant or unpleasant, about him than about any one else." -- Theodore Roosevelt in the Kansas City Star (May 7, 1918)


"Naturally, the common people don't want war, but after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is a simple matter to drag people along...Voice or no voice the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country." -- Hermann Goering, Hitler's Reich Marshall at the Nuremburg Trials after WWII

Working in such a diverse environment can be so rewarding. In my department you can walk down the hall and hear a different language coming from every office. My co-workers are from such rich backgrounds and have such diverse cultural points of view it's a contant learning experience. They hail from countries as far and wide as Vietnam, Bosnia, Sudan, Mexico, India, Albania, Bangladesh, and Cuba. And then there's me, my own weird mix of asian-hick chic. We're a veritable U.N. And every once in awhile there's a jewel of a moment, a flash of cross-cultural understanding that is often so hard to come by. The kind of heartwarming, tearjerking instant that you only find in Hallmark commercials. Like yesterday, when my co-worker Hoi came down the hall and asked me if I had a second:
-Sure Hoi, what is it?
-Can you come to my office? I need your help with something.
- No Problem.
I walk into his office and see that he's been doing zoological research again. Every time one of his young sons has a research project in school he will help out a little on his own, and often refer to me (his local internet expert) on where to find certain facts like "Do sharks get cancer?" Anyway, he sits down at his desk and scrolls down a little. I can tell he's researching Peregrine Falcons. "Cool birds," I submit as he scans for the exact place on the page he's looking for.
-Ah here it is. What does this word mean?
-Which word are you looking at Hoi?
-This one hear: SHITLOAD. "The peregrine falcon can gain a shitload of speed." I looked it up in the dictionary, but I couldn't find it.
-I see. Well, it means 'a lot', as in 'a lot of speed'.
-Really? I've never heard that word before.
-Well it's sort of slang. Don't use that one in your kid's report, okay?
-Okay.
You see what I'm saying? A true example of the bridging of cultures. All in a day's work my friends, all in a day's work.

Confessions of a Geek
Please don't hold it against me. I like reality television. I know it's fake and silly and reflects the worst aspects of our society. Maybe that's why I'm drawn to it. Don't get me wrong, I have my limits. I can't stand Fear Factor; the host is slimey and eating disgusting shit has nothing to do with fear. You couldn't pay me to watch that celebrity Survivor spin-off show. Nothing could make an hour of Melissa Rivers and Robin Leach entertaining. But give me your Joe Millionaire, your American Idol, your Trading Spaces, your Amazing Race and I will return week after week for the next inane, brainwasting segment. You can mock me all you like. Turn up your nose if you must. But I'm telling you, amidst all of the disturbingly anachronistic values of the dating shows, and the gladiatoresque voyeurism that the competitions invite, there is something so genuinely american on display (as disturbing as that often is) and every once in awhile, a glimmer of something human. I love to be shocked and disgusted, delighted and smitten with the cast of characters that parade across my screen each week. And there's just something so revealing about the fact that a show like Married by America even exists. Arranged marriage in the 21st century....wow. "What the hell are these people thinking?" you may ask. And I will nod my head with jaw agape right along with you. But there they are, laying out all of their weaknesses and emotions before you like a street vendor displaying his wares for you to peruse and judge. I like to think of my addiction as a purely anthropological interest. Then again, maybe it's just the white trash in me that brings me back week after week to laugh, mock and scream at the morons on the screen. I'll let you be the judge. All I have to say is LONG LIVE RUUUUUUBEN!!!!!!

Happy fools!
My coworkers and I played a pretty funny prank on our boss today. All three of us put resignation letters on his desk at different points in the day. He totally bought it. He finally emerged from his office after receiving the last one looking frazzled and a little freaked out. He managed to stop a couple of us in the hall and nervously insisted, "Which one of you wants to talk to me first...I need some explanations...I just got another one you know...We need to talk....This isn't a joke is it....?IS IT?!?" (Long Pause) I was enjoying drawing out the awkward and painful silence I must admit. But then Christina and I made eye contact and lost it. Bernardo stormed off to his office without a word. The funniest part was that Bernardo bought Christina's reason behind her resignation. I said that I was leaving because I couldn't stand the war bullshit and Chris and I had decided to move to France. Believable. So believable in fact that he later suggested that it wouldn't be such a bad idea. Dondie said she had been offered a position with another agency that paid more. Again, not far beyond the realm of possibility. Christina, however, said she was resigning because working at this agency confirmed her suspicions that our clients are trying to freeload off of the American system. If you know Christina, you know how absurd a notion this is. She was actually offended that he believed it.

He's fine now. We all had a good chuckle at his expense and he handled it with warmth and grace. I love my boss. He warned us that December 28th is Dia de los Santos Inocentes in Mexico (their equivalent), so we should watch out. The most disturbing part of it all was when he said, "I just know you were behind all of this Amanda." Apparently, my reputation proceeds me.

For your reading pleasure:

A letter to the London Observer from Terry Jones of
Monty Python.

Letter to the Observer
Sunday January 26, 2003
The Observer

I'm really excited by George Bush's latest reason for bombing Iraq: he's running out of patience. And so am I! For some time now I've been really pissed off with Mr Johnson, who lives a couple of doors down the street.

Well, him and Mr Patel, who runs the health food shop. They both give me queer looks, and I'm sure Mr Johnson is planning something nasty for me, but so far I haven't been able to discover what.

I've been round to his place a few times to see what he's up to, but he's got everything well hidden. That's how devious he is. As for Mr. Patel, don't ask me how I know, I just know - from very good sources - that he is, in reality, a Mass Murderer. I have leafleted the street telling them that if we don't act first, he'll pick us off one by one. Some of my neighbours say, if I've got proof, why don't I go to the police? But that's simply ridiculous. The police will say that they need evidence of a crime with which to charge my neighbours.

They'll come up with endless red tape and quibbling about the rights and wrongs of a pre-emptive strike and all the while Mr Johnson will be finalising his plans to do terrible things to me, while Mr Patel will be secretly murdering people. Since I'm the only one in the street with a decent range of automatic firearms, I reckon it's up to me to keep the peace. But until recently that's been a little difficult. Now, however, George W. Bush has made it clear that all I need to do is run out of patience, and then I can wade in and do whatever I want!

And let's face it, Mr Bush's carefully thought-out policy towards Iraq is the only way to bring about international peace and security. The one certain way to stop Muslim fundamentalist suicide bombers targeting the US or the UK is to bomb a few Muslim countries that have never threatened us. That's why I want to blow up Mr Johnson's garage and kill his wife and children. Strike first! That'll teach him a lesson. Then he'll leave us in peace and stop peering at me in that totally unacceptable way.

Mr Bush makes it clear that all he needs to know before bombing Iraq is that Saddam is a really nasty man and that he has weapons of mass destruction - even if no one can find them. I'm certain I've just as much justification for killing Mr Johnson's wife and children as Mr Bush has for bombing Iraq. Mr Bush's long-term aim is to make the world a safer place by eliminating 'rogue states' and 'terrorism'. It's such a clever long-term aim because how can you ever know when you've achieved it?

How will Mr Bush know when he's wiped out all terrorists? When every single terrorist is dead? But then a terrorist is only a terrorist once he's committed an act of terror. What about would-be terrorists? These are the ones you really want to eliminate, since most of the known terrorists, being suicide bombers, have already eliminated themselves.

Perhaps Mr Bush needs to wipe out everyone who could possibly be a future terrorist? Maybe he can't be sure he's achieved his objective until every Muslim fundamentalist is dead? But then some moderate Muslims might convert to fundamentalism. Maybe the only really safe thing to do would be for Mr Bush to eliminate all Muslims?

It's the same in my street. Mr Johnson and Mr Patel are just the tip of the iceberg. There are dozens of other people in the street who I don't like and who - quite frankly - look at me in odd ways. No one will be really safe until I've wiped them all out. My wife says I might be going too far but I tell her I'm simply using the same logic as the President of the United States. That shuts her up.

Like Mr Bush, I've run out of patience, and if that's a good enough reason for the President, it's good enough for me. I'm going to give the whole street two weeks - no, 10 days - to come out in the open and hand over all aliens and interplanetary hijackers, galactic outlaws and interstellar terrorist masterminds, and if they don't hand them over nicely and say 'Thank you', I'm going to bomb the entire
street to kingdom come.

It's just as sane as what George W. Bush is proposing - and, in contrast to what he's intending, my policy will destroy only one street.