The Confused TwentySomething

Get Me Bodied

2011-05-04T07:05:00.001-07:00

This is why America is awesome. Would you ever see the Queen of England doing the Dougie? I think not. Go Michelle Obama!

How a Fairytale Dashed My Dreams

2011-04-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock or lost on a desert island these past few months, you know this week is a big week in the name of love and Britain. That’s right. It’s Royal Wedding Week -- and even though we Americans are ferociously against aristocracy, we are still suckers for the commoner-meets-prince fairy tale. Thus, news of the grand affair is filling our airwaves and magazine racks.

For me, however, this week represents something a bit sadder than fairy tale endings. It represents dashed childhood dreams. When I was in ninth grade, I was sure Prince William would be mine. I knew all eight (or so) names included in William’s complete royal name and made everyone I knew call me “Princess Colleen.”

“How,” you might ask yourself, “did you still have friends after that year?” That is a good question. I do not know the answer myself, actually. I also don’t know how my parents endured this fantasy. I remember one evening my mom asked me to clean my room, and I responded with, “You know, British royalty never have to clean their rooms!!!” Hahaha. I was grounded.

Anyway, years past, William aged poorly, and I forgot about my teen obsession. Today though, I received the following e-mail from my old neighbor, and friend’s dad. Keep in mind, I haven’t talked to this man in years:

Colleen,

This must be a very tough week for you. I hope you are seeking help and support. Please accept my most heartfelt sympathy. I know it has been your dream since your were a little girl to be Prince William’s princess. This would have been your week! All the glamour, glitz and glory!

Actually, throughout all these years I have been quietly planning to attend your big ceremony in the Westminster Abbey. Surely, you would have invited your favorite old neighbor! Now, (sob) I didn’t get invited to this week’s festivities. This is kinda tough on me, too.

But, I guess it wasn’t to be. Keep your chin up. Don’t ever forget, you will always be a princess to your Dad. (There is something special about daughters) And, perhaps some gentleman more becoming to you will make you his princess.

Obviously, Prince William does not know what he is missing. Hey, wait. You do have a couple of days… Naa, it would be tough to get his attention now. I assume he has already had his bachelor party. Perhaps you could have made your move then. Probably too late now.

Take care of yourself during this difficult week and think of positive things. I know you will get through this. Just like the little choo-choo train said as it was climbing the mountain, “Yes, I can! Yes, I can!”

Thinking of you this week,

Al

Wow. I must have made a bigger fuss about it than I remember. Should I be embarrassed? Or should I pick up the habit again? After all, all hope isn’t completely lost...there is still one more prince left to marry. Perhaps, to England, I shall go...no?

Bunny Cakes and Other Forced Traditions

2011-04-24T18:03:00.000-07:00

Who here thinks it’s impossible to mess up boxed cake? Well, think again, and bring me in. The picture to the left is my attempt to make a bunny cake for Easter. Needless to say I failed, and seriously injured this longtime family tradition.

Let’s be real about “traditions” in my family. These days, they are are often forced. The bunny cake tradition began some time in the early nineties, and even though we are all grown now, my mom refuses to let the tradition go. Perhaps she holds on for the near-futile hope that one of us might actual have kids someday soon. Prols not gonna happen for awhile, mom.

The bunny cake isn’t the only tradition forced upon us year after year. Another one is called “Cookie Day,” and takes place about mid-December. Apparently, Cookie Day has been a Callahan family tradition for decades - and by decades I mean since 2005. In my recollection, Cookie Day began when I was 22 (yes, out of college) and my mom got sick of making all the Christmas cookies herself. Instead of just asking for help, she turned it into some longstanding tradition that I ostensibly didn’t remember for the first 22 years of my life. Who knows? The tradition of Family Spring Cleaning Day could begin this year!! So many options for forced traditions in our family!!

But back to the bunny cake. What I did wrong was put olive oil in the batter, instead vegetable oil. Apparently you can’t do that. How was I to know? It seemed like the healthier option! Alas, it was the option that brought silent doom to the bunny cake. So next time you don’t want to ruin a family tradition, remember this one piece of advice: vegetable oil never fails. Bake on

Found: The story of me finding an awesome hair product

2010-10-04T12:13:00.000-07:00

Alas, I have searched the earth, far and wide, for hair products that deserve praise. I have finally found one, and it's only $11. Garnier should praise me for this shameless promo, but I'm not kidding, it works. I am wearing my hair down today, thanks to yesterday's infusion. If anyone knows me, you know that never happens. Unless I straighten it. Which never happens. Anyway it's Garnier Sleek and Shine Blow Dry Perfector. So awesome if you have at all frizzy hair. It even made me buy a blow dryer. I haven't ever owned a blow dryer. Times are changing my friends, times are changing.

Katy Perry & Sesame Street. Really?

2010-09-23T06:38:00.000-07:00

Why would someone put Katy Perry on Sesame Street to begin with? I mean, I like her, but she's not exactly a performer for children...

Sesame Street Pulls Katy Perry Video

On being filfthy rich

2010-07-14T20:16:00.001-07:00

I just wrote this for a job application, so I decided perhaps I should share it with someone else too. Enjoy!

--------------

I remember the first time it actually hit me - how filthy rich I was. I was taking a class on world development problems in graduate school, and the professor was categorizing humanity into three economic classes: under consumers, moderate consumers and over consumers. At the time, I subsisted on $1200 a month, generated from serving as a teaching assistant for the school. I quickly balked with pride. I could barely afford to live, I thought, I am definitely not an over consumer, that’s for sure. Besides half of the world’s population are moderate consumers, only 20 percent are classified as over consumers -- like I really fall into the elite percent.

My self-righteous pride however, was quickly humbled. My professor showed us a chart. “Moderate consumers,” he said, “have a per capita income of $700 - $7500 USD a year. Over consumers make more than $7500, have a diet of meat, packaged foods, soft drinks and consume too many calories. They drive private cars, dress in fashion-conscious clothing, and live in spacious, acclimatized shelters.” Wow. Way to describe me in a nutshell. I looked down at the H&M sweater I was wearing, and the Vitamin Water in my hand. Sure, I got it on sale for $14, and the Vitamin Water was $2 for two at the convenience store, but still...I was completely, unapologetically, an over consumer. I couldn’t believe I had even thought otherwise. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t witnessed true poverty before. I had been to Calcutta and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Still, until I heard my professor’s description, it never really struck me as so, well, widespread.

As my professor continued to discuss global poverty, the realities of the world became painfully clearer, but it also became clearer why my view of poverty was so drastically limited. “Nearly 24,000 children a day die from poverty-related causes,” lectured my prof. “And the saddest thing is, we never hear about them, because they die in the poorest communities in the world, hidden from the world’s gaze.” Apparently, the poorest of the poor weren’t living in Minneapolis, Minn., or, in any area inhabited by or in close proximity to the world’s richest.

While statistics like this can be discouraging, I find there is a little bit of hope in facts like these. Call it naivety, but I think, if the over consumers of the world really knew about the poverty sharing this globe with them, they would reach out to help. I mean, how many small towns put on huge benefits to help a local cancer victim stricken with medical bills in addition to his disease? From what I’ve seen in my life, a lot.

So that’s why I believe in the power of communication to relieve global poverty. We all have the ability to help out a bit, we just have to spread the word, and sacrifice a few finances ourselves. As I mentioned before, perhaps this is an idealistic view of the overwhelming problem at hand. But what do we have to lose? In the words of famed activist Margaret Meade, “Never doubt that a small, thoughtful group of people can change the world. Indeed, they are the only ones who have ever have.”

Waiting

2010-06-25T08:37:00.000-07:00

I am at a airport coffeeshop in Denver, CO. I'm here, staring outside at the airport's fake rendition of the Rockies (if you've been here, you know what I'm talking about), trying to kill three hours. I am headed to Orange County this weekend for a friend's wedding - and because I have no money, I could not afford a non-stop flight. Alas.

I have never been to LA, the city I am flying into. Tonight, thanks to the dealings of my friend Dan Edelstein, I am staying in the Santa Monica Motel. I know, it just sounds like the setting for a horror movie. The only reviews I read about it said, "I can stand cheap, budget hotels, but this place is just gross..." Ha. Should be an adventure.

So yeah. I am waiting. Waiting for my flight, waiting for one of the employers I've contacted to call me back. A lot of our lives our spent waiting. At least someone invented the Internet. It sure makes waiting a lot easier.

(Oh, and a special shout out to the Denver airport for having free wifi. Way to go.)

Leaving everything, and graduating.

2010-06-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

I am a selfish human being. And the other day, I had an experience that slapped my selfishness hard, revealing its raw stupidity.

I have a friend who was a refugee from Burma, she arrived in the U.S. two years ago, and we've been hanging out since. This past week, she graduated from high school. She asked me to come to her graduation, at the LEAP school in St. Paul. Of course I said I would go, but deep down inside, I did not want to attend a graduation ceremony. I was thinking of ways I could skip. How rude.

But alas, I do have some heart, so I went. And as soon as I got there, I realized that this experience was a gift. There they were, 56, students who came over to the U.S., barely knowing any English at all, graduating from high school. Their friends and families were there, so excited and proud. They had come to this new land with nothing, and now, one of their own was graduating from high school, in America. I mean, do you know what these kids had to go through to get a degree? They had to adjust to a new culture, a new language, override the temptations that come from rough neighborhoods, to graduate. I was honored to be in that gym at that moment. It made me realize how frustrated God is with us most of the time. I mean, he tries to give us good things, but we brush them off before we taste them, because shallow, selfish desires like spending time on ourselves seem more appealing.

The scene was a funny one, at LEAP school graduation. It was very typical of what I've experienced from my short times in the developing world. It was definitely not like a suburban high school graduation. For one, people talked throughout the ceremony, there was a constant conversational buzz. I would sit there and scream in my head, "listen to the speaker!" But alas, no one heard my inner thoughts. Additionally, most people came late, with balloons. What's time? Just a number. But even if they were whispering and answering phones throughout the ceremony, when their student walked across the stage they erupted in cheers louder than any you would have heard in Hastings.

Perhaps, its because, this student accomplished a greater achievement than most in Hastings. I mean, I had to go through a couple break-ups in high school (not to minimize those! man, those were rough), not submerge myself into a different culture a million miles from home.

After the ceremony, I went to see my friend. She was so excited and looked great in the cap and gown. This was the best graduation I have ever been to. Accomplishments mean more, the more there is to overcome.

The Life of the Unemployed

2010-06-08T09:18:00.000-07:00

I've decided to start blogging again, because I have a lot of time on my hands. Ah, the life of the unemployed.

The good news is that I just graduated with my master's degree. Woohoo. Just call me Master. Just kidding. The bad news, however, is that my last paycheck was last week, and now I am literally living on a prayer.

This is how bad it is, people. Last week, I went to Savers and scourged through the racks of jeans until I found five designer pairs that people oddly gave away. I then decided to sell them on eBay for some extra cash. My entrepreneurial initiative didn't go too well, I only sold one pair. Consequently, although I made $10 on that pair, it put my total losses at $20. Dangit. I'm going to have to put them up again, maybe lower the prices.

I do have a job babysitting Thursday and Friday. Yes. I have a master's degree and so far the only jobs I can get are the same ones I got at age 13. Let's not dwell on that fact.

I have been applying religiously for only a week now. So far, everything has slammed shut in my face. I have a feeling this is going to be a long road. That is not a fun feeling. At least I can sit by my parents' pool during the day instead of work. Looks like I'm going to be extremely tan, and bored, by the end of the summer....

Ripped off!

2010-04-29T18:55:00.001-07:00

Okay. Why don't I write for Glamour? They totally ripped me off (Ameera -- thank you for generously pointing out their plagiarism)! Ok, so maybe they didn't get it from me but they should have. Read this!

19 Things You Should Never Say to a Single Person: Single-ish: Sex, Love & Life: glamour.com

www.glamour.com

Things Married People Say to Singles

2010-04-09T13:49:00.000-07:00

My roommate and I always joke about the things married people say to make singles feel better for being, well single. Though they have good intentions, in reality most of the advice doesn't really help. Don't stop giving advice however, if you have good advice to give. You will know that it's not good advice if it sounds at all like the following list I've compiled of "Things married people say to single people." If you find yourself spouting off any of these lines to your single friends, please, for the love of them, STOP.

1) You'll find someone if you just stop looking.
--Oh really? THAT'S why online dating sites are so popular and relatively successful. Because no one using them is looking!

2) You have to be happy with yourself before you can be with someone else.
--Ok while yes, you have to be happy enough being single that you won't go for any loser that comes your way, I'm sorry, it's relatively impossible to be like, totally happy about being lonely at night, or going on the umpteenth bad date of the year. The only reason married people say this, is because they forgot what it felt like. I'm convinced.

3) If I weren't married, I'd be totally happy being single.
--That is just false. False, false. You're married. How would you know? If you were really that happy single, you wouldn't be married. Just saying.

4) God has to be enough for you
--PLEASE! Yeah, in an ideal world. But God made us for companionship, plus this line makes me feel like I'm a horrible Christian for not wanting to be single my whole life. Don't ever use this line. Thank you.

Now I realize there is a some truth in all of the above lines. And no, being single is not all that bad really. But it will be if people continue to throw bogus lines at me. If I've missed any other lines, please let me know. I am eager to add them to my collection.

Peace out.

The Day My Hair Caught on Fire

2010-03-29T09:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, my hair started on fire.

Yes. There were flames coming out of my head, and the smell of burning hair gel in the air.

Let me further explain.
Last night, I went to church by myself as usual. I walked in a bit late, so I settled for a secluded spot next to the wall. I sat down, and leaned back to survey the crowd and see if there was anyone I knew. All of a sudden, I spot a girl I know motioning to get my attention, "Colleen!" she yelled, and signalled for me to move. I was confused, and another guy I knew was motioning for me to come sit next to him. I got up, and all of sudden noticed something wasn't quite right. My head felt warm and there were sparks flying off of it.

"Omg," I thought, "my hair is on fire." The rest of the events are quite blurry, but I started patting my head to put out the flames. I succeeded in putting out the fire with my bare hands. Thank you very much. I then sat down, stunned. I was in the front, and the entire church saw my hair catch on fire. I began touching my head to get a feel for the damage. A chunk of hair fell out and my coat was sprinkled with ashes. I sat stunned. Stunned and laughing.

As soon as the worship began a woman I know who works at the church came up and got me. "I am so sorry your hair started on fire in my church!" she exclaimed. We went to survey the damage in the bathroom. Not bad. It just looked as if the front of my hair was pretty singed. "I owe you a haircut," she said. I told her not to worry about it. She convinced me to stay despite my embarrassed and I went back into the service, only this time, up in the balcony.

I did, however, leave early, since I was too embarassed to face everyone coming up to me and asking if I was okay.

Oh man. I cannot believe my hair caught on fire, in church, in front of everyone. Good story. When I got home that night I had to cut like major chunks off the end. With the right amount of hair product, it looks okay now.

Since it happened in church, maybe it was a holy sign. God has lit me on fire. I now bear witness with my scorched hair. Can I have an amen?!

Crashing the St. Patty's Day Parade

2010-03-19T13:14:00.000-07:00

This post is a few days late, but I had the best St. Patrick's Day ever. Hands down.

Let's just say that the day started out with me and three friends going to a St. Patrick's Day parade, and ended with Anna and I being in a parade. Holler.

So around noon on St. Patty's Day, a few of us headed to downtown St. Paul to check out the parade action. The parade action turned out to be people carrying banners that said family names like, "Mulligan," or something, with individuals dressed in green following behind. It was totally lame so we lasted like 10 minutes before heading to the nearest Irish pub. While drinking green beer at the pub, we discovered that Minneapolis was having a parade at 6:00 p.m. That's when Ana came up with the brilliant idea to crash the parade. Hey, if it was as lame as the St. Paul one, all we'd need to do to be in it was dress in green and sneak our way into an unsuspecting group. Armed with our idea, we headed back to Minneapolis to get more decked out in green and find the parade's starting point.

A green scarf and some facepaint later, we head to Brit's downtown to grab a few drinks and conspire. A half-hour before the parade we made our way down to its starting point, and nonchalantly began mingling with people, grabbing some of the free food and and a bud light at the bar.

Soon, Anna and I spotted our perfect crashing opportunity. We snuck into a group that was simply wearing green and singing some Irish song. We even got someone to give us one of the flags they were waving. So, waving our flags and lip-syncing the unfamiliar song, we paraded down Nicollet Avenue yelling happy St. Patrick's Day. I was laughing so hard I could barely pretend to know the words. At the end of Nicollet Ave., we got a bit bored and decided to duck out. We had left the rest of our group at the parade's start so we headed back that way.

I had never been in a St. Patty's Day parade before Wednesday. Ha, it was such a good time. I guess, on this St. Patrick's Day, I actually had the luck of the Irish.

Inner Conflict

2010-03-15T21:39:00.000-07:00

I just finished the most disturbing movie. So disturbing that everyone should see it. It's called the Stoning of Soraya M. It's about a woman in Iran who was wrongly accused of adultry to further her husband's adulterous goals, and thus stoned.

The whole movie has got me thinking again. I have always been passionate about furthering women's rights in the world. Especially in developing countries, or theocratic countries where the injustice runs deep.

How do I do that? How does anyone do that?

I'm currently looking for a job. The careers that interest me around here, and the ones I'm qualified for are mainly in advertising or public relations research. If I take a job in one of these fields, am I settling? Or, is there a way to do good for the world, no matter what your career is (well, obvious immoral ones not counting, i.e. murderer, Phillips-Morris employee, etc...)?

For the past few years, I have kind of wanted to be a journalist, because I've loved the idea of telling people's stories. But the true fact is, is traditional journalism is dying. Could there, however, be another way to tell truth, change the world, even if I don't work for the BBC?

I'm really wrestling with this at the current moment. Particularly because I'm really interested in advertising research. But how do I reconcile the things I'm passionate about, like women's development, justice, etc..., with a career in advertising research?

I feel like there must be a way. But maybe I'm just convincing myself of that. But maybe, changing the world isn't so much about the career you have. Maybe, it's about changing yourself, and standing up for truth wherever you find it. If anyone has any advice for me at the moment, I would gladly take it. Especially anyone who works in PR or advertising!

And back to the Stoning of Soraya M. Please, go out and rent it right now. It's a story that definitely deserves to be told.

Someone Help Me Decipher Lil' Wayne

2010-03-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

I usually don't read TIME magazine anymore because the cover's always have some version of "How to fix (insert health care system, the world, the economy, etc...)," and I think it's lame because if they really knew how to fix things, they would be fixed. Plus, come up with a headline that doesn't begin with "How to."

That is beside the point however. The point is I picked up the latest TIME because I was bored yesterday and had already watched four episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians. I turned to the quotes page and one by Lil' Wayne was highlighted. He was finally heading to jail after several delayed sentences, and his response was, "Law is mind without reason."

Um, ok, will someone please explain that quote to me. I've been racking my brain and I just can't seem to figure out how it makes sense. Essentially he's saying law is unreasonable. I guess? Not that I should expect literary greatness from someone who wrote "Lollipop," but I guess something that made sense would be good. If anyone has any insight that can explain this mystery to me, I would appreciate it.

Thank you for your time.

Me.

My Unblievable Life

2010-03-10T08:22:00.000-08:00

So I just got back from a lovely weekend in Florida/Alabama with my college roommates. It was beautiful, and is making me long for a longer warm-weather getaway.

The first night we spent at the Hilton on the ocean. Then, we drove down to no-man's land Alabama, where one of my old roomies lives with her baby and military-man husband.

It was such a good time, but it's sooo crazy how different my life is from theirs. I mean, five years ago, we were all in the same boat. And now, well, I'm in the same boat and they are both married with babies. Well, one is only pregnant, but the baby will come.

It was funny, on the way to the beach we were reminiscing about college and they were like, "ohh remember when we used to go out, sleep in late, yada yada." I was like, "ummm...I don't know what you guys are talking about but that is still my life. I go out somewhere like every night, and don't wake up until nine every day." They were like, "really??" Like they couldn't believe it. Haha. My life is unbelievable. I love it.

It did kind of make me realize however, that the single life is somewhat of a privilege. I mean, once I get married and have a baby there is no more jetting off to India, or even to the corner bar on a Friday night. So I might as well enjoy my freedom while I can. Sure, I don't want it for the rest of my life, but for now, I might as well live it up. Maybe being single is more fun than people make it out to be.

Life Shower

2010-03-03T12:54:00.001-08:00

I have a bone to pick.

I think that if you are still single by the time you turn 30, people should throw you a "life" shower. For this life shower, you should receive the wide-array of nice domestic items that married people receive for their weddings.

I mean, why should married people get all the fun & nice stuff. They already get the love of their lives, plus a stunning array of Williams Sonoma bakeware. For those who are single, it's like, "sorry, you have to be alone, and stuck with your grandmother's second-hand dishes from 1975. Have fun with that!"

I feel as if this is wrong. We no longer live in an age where people get married at age 22 as their starting out on their domestic lives. No, most of us are well-established before we get married, or rather, if we get married these days. Consequently, married people should not have all the fun!

If I'm single when I'm 30, I am throwing myself a life shower. I will make all my friends come. Yes, I will look pathetic roaming around Macys, little register remote in hand, by myself. And perhaps even more pathetic when the clerk asks me when I'm getting married and I reply, "I'm not." But, at least I will have the same hosting capacity as my married friends. Crate & Barrel dishes and all! So there.

Anyway, just an idea. And a rant. Onto another run (which is going great btw, weeee!).

Selling Used Underwear?

2010-03-02T11:11:00.001-08:00

Um, yeah. This is gross. MSNBC reports.

Five Stages and Magic Gear

2010-02-24T19:10:00.000-08:00

Everyone has been so supportive these past few weeks. I cannot thank you all enough! Life is getting better ever since last week. I think there is a surefire "break-up" phase that we all go through. 1) consistent crying 2) consistent anxiety 3) consistent anger BUT mixed with acceptance 4) acceptance and 5) happiness and SOMEONE new!

It's been awhile, and I'm fairly happy. So let's hope #5 comes along soon.

In the wake of this minor tragedy - which will most likely turn out to be a happy miracle - I've decided to take up running. That's right. I am going to become an athlete. I have spent a significant amount of cash on new winter running apparel, and have signed up for the 100% Irish 5K in a couple weeks. I just received my new athletic wear in the mail the other day. I really think that it's magic. Seriously. I am not athletic, and I am never able to run around the lake (only 2.6 miles) by my house after months of inactivity and extra wine intake. Monday, however, I donned by new pink and black running gear and set off to conquer the lake -- and guess what -- I did. Yessiree, I ran the whole thing without stopping. This is a big accomplishment for me. I know you "runner-types" are laughing at my wimpy 2.6 miles conquest, but hey, 2.6 miles today 10 miles tomorrow! Well, let's hope anyway.

They say, whoever "they" are, that excercise is the best cure for lethargy. So I took 'em up on it. Also, my friend and I signed up for the 5K because of the party at Stella's afterwards. What is a 5k 100% Irish race without a little Guiness afterwards? Not 100% Irish let me tell you!

Ok, time to watch romantic comedies. Not sure if that is a healthy activity, but hey, I can't win 'em all.

Oh, Life.

2010-02-11T10:24:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in awhile. Mainly, because my problems got a lot bigger in this past couple weeks than a pair of broken Uggs. My boyfriend and I broke a few weeks ago. Break-ups really suck. However, I'm trying hard to find the humor in my situation, which really does exist outside of the tears.

I mean, you should see my bedside right now. It's humorous. It's complete with a half-eaten chocolate bar, a broken wine glass, Benadryl, and a self-help book. I've woken up crying and unable to move so many days that my friend now has to regularly check on me around nine to make sure I've risen from bed. The first day, I couldn't even eat because that meant I'd have to stop crying long enough to shove food down my throat. I went home to stay with my mom for a night. When she got home from work the next day she found my lying in bed with the dogs, still. She said, "You have to get up. Do you want a new coat?" This tells you how desperate I looked. My mom does not regularly offer to buy me new coats.

Besides God's faithfulness of course, the one thing that gets me through horrible times like these is knowing that most people (including myself!) have gone through this before. It's amazing people's kindness when times get tough. Strangers buy me drinks after my friend's announce the reason why I look like I was just run over by a truck. Or maybe they're buying me a drink because I got a new haircut that looks hot. Hey, a girl can dream:).

Well, I don't really like to get too personal on this thing called the world wide web. However, I think there is humor in times like these, and that someday I'll be able to look back and truly laugh. Until then, I might as well have someone laughing at me. Forward march.

Problem of the Year: Broken Uggs!

2010-01-29T13:20:00.000-08:00

I have a major problem/complaint on my hands. Yesterday, I was putting on my black Ugg boots and I hear a rip. I look down, and precious lambs-wool was spilling out of a one-inch rip next to the back seam. Since it was freezing out (Uggs=perfect in freezingness), and I was late, I wore them anyway, albeit with scorn. When I came home however, it got worse. As I was taking them off, I hear another rip. I look down, and the EXACT same thing happened to the other boot. Seriously!

And people in Haiti think they have problems (Ok, I am totally being sarcastic to make fun of myself here, don't freak out).

So now, I have two rips in the back of my favorite boots. I am not happy. I also, find this unacceptable for a product supposedly as high-quality as Uggs. I have worn these boots for less than six months. I received them last year for Christmas. I thought for sure Uggs would have like, a lifetime warranty or something, but when I looked on its website, it said a ONE year warranty only.

Oh no they didn't.

That will not do. I am sending those black classic boots back and I expect a full refund. There is no way, a $180 pair of boots should rip after being worn for six months. The website also said refunds after a year will be reviewed on a case-by-case basis. If I send these boots back, and Uggs gives me new ones, I will be happy and continue buying its products. However, if I am refused, I will not be happy and a permanent Uggs customer will be lost. I am just saying.

So here's hoping for the best. I'm sending them in tomorrow. If Uggs has any public relations sense they will give me boots that do not rip for no reason. Lame-o.

Ok, end of rant. Now you officially no I have no real problems in life, since I am so upset about this. Goodbye.

Thesis Time

2010-01-26T09:22:00.001-08:00

I have finally settled on a thesis! One step down, five hundred million to go. I'm going to be looking at facebook groups formed after the Iranian protests and Haiti's earthquake. Don't ask me what I'm looking for I don't know. But it fits in with my general theme of social media and social change.

I was going to concentrate my research on Twitter, but I realized Twitter sucks to research. The fleeting presence of tweets, and the site's lack of archives make research pretty much impossible. Too bad, a lot is going on there right now. One thing I did realize while searching through a plethora of tweets surrounding Haiti, is that nonprofits are really doing a poor job at using social media. Nonprofit orgs do so many interesting things, yet they tweet about it like, once a month. Come on people -- you could get so many people interested in your work by broadcasting the cool things you do. Just a thought - to any nonprofit workers out there.

Welp, back to searching for academic literature on my topic. To the online library indexes!

Julia Roberts vs. I

2010-01-23T13:53:00.000-08:00

So, I am in my last semester of graduate school, and God-willing, I will graduate this spring. What that means is I will once again need a job. Since the job market is so great right now, I'm sure I will have no problem finding my dream occupation (please note the sarcasm).

Even though it's months away, and I have to complete a very important thesis beforehand, I am totally stressing out about finding a job. See, I don't want to be in a position that bores me to death, or that makes me think of running away to China in order to save my sanity. I want a job that energizes me and utilizes my skills and brings about satisfaction. I know this is a lot to ask, but hey, I believe it's possible! At least I am trying to.

I realized how stressed I was during the moment in which I started crying after watching "My Best Friend's Wedding." Why did I start crying? Because in the movie, Julia Roberts was 27 and had an extremely successful career as a food editor. This meant that I, at 26, with no job as a food editor was not at the top of my game. Yeah, I know it's a movie and I'm in graduate school, blah blah, but rationality has no place when you're stressed out. I forgot to mention that I was sick as well. So perhaps that had an influence on my sudden outburst over Julia Robert's character's success.

The job I want involves, writing, editing, traveling, international affairs, politics, human interaction, flexibility and not sitting at a computer for eight hours a day. If anyone sees an opportunity that matches this criteria, please let me know. God knows what other movie will set me off otherwise:).

India: Going Home Sweet Home

2010-01-18T11:05:00.001-08:00

Twenty-eight hours (or so) and five plane rides later, I have arrived safe-and-sound back at home. Yeah! I just woke up after sleeping for 13 hours, so hopefully I have recovered from the jet-lag. A 12-hour time difference can really get to you. Also, I am VERY upset because somewhere en-route home, I lost my camera! Not cool. ALL my pictures were on there, and my trip-mates hardly took any. Consequently, we are left with no photographic memories of our adventures. So sad. I am praying for my camera's miraculous recovery.

We left Kolkata Saturday night at 7:30. In Minnesota time, that would be Sunday morning at 8:15. Let me tell you, the Kolkata airport was an experience in itself. I was at my wits-end. It is organized VERY differently than any American - or come to think of it - international airport I have ever seen. I would like to advise Kolkata to take advice from New Delhi and re-design their airport. Delhi has one of the nicest airport I have ever seen -- complete with reclining waiting chairs at the gates.

Anyway, we had pretty much an entire day to spend in Kolkata before heading to the airport. We woke up bright and early to spend our last morning volunteering with the Sisters. Jeff (who at 6' 3 is a giant in India, btw), was sent to some remote village to distribute food, and Molly and I had the opportunity to volunteer at a site called Prem Dan. I thought Prem Dan was wonderful. It is a site (established by Mother Teresa and the Sisters) dedicated to serving mentally-handicapped adults. It is located in the middle of a slum (houses thats roofs consist of plastic bags and floors of dirt), but as soon as the gates to Prem Dan open, you find yourself in a clean, spacious and well-kept living area. It's amazing.

I liked Prem Dan more than Khalighat, because you had more opportunities to interact with patients. Mainly because at Khalighat, the patients are too sick to interact with. We spent the first couple hours at Prem Dan hand-washing clothes. When all was rinsed and wrung, we got to head over to the women's ward and spend some time with the patients. Volunteers gave them massages, painted their nails and danced with the patients, who smiled and laughed as they were able. Again, it was incredible to see how much of a difference the work of the Sister's made. These people, being mentally handicapped, are the least of the least. But because of the Sister's dedication, they get to live lives of dignity in a beautifully kept residence. I really don't know if they would be alive without the care of Missionaries of Charity. I'm not sure there is a place for mentally handicapped women in the slums of Kolkata.

So we left our time volunteering with Missionaries of Charity on a high note. We spent the rest of our time in Kolkata eating. I am very sick of Indian food besides one dish: Cheese Masala Dosas. So good. Look them up if you have a chance. It's funny the things you crave while you are away. All I wanted the entire time was a milkshake and a cheesburger. Mainly, because we couldn't eat either. They had shakes all over India, but we were never sure whether or not they were pasteurized and thus stayed away. As for cheeseburgers, well, a good majority of Indians believe cows are gods. Needless to say, it was a bit difficult to find a place serving beef. The first thing I ate when I arrived in Washington was a vanilla milkshake. For dinner last night, Chris graciously made spaghetti upon my request, as good Italian is also in short supply in India.

Right now, I am thinking about heading to Chipotle. Chipotle and I seriously need some quality time, as do I and Trader Joe's. I am so glad to be back. Until you see India, you have no idea how quiet and clean the land of 10,000 lakes really is. Despite its chaos though, India does have its own charms and many intriguing mysteries. Perhaps someday I will find myself back in the land of colorful chaos--hopefully making a difference in some way.

India: Colorful Chaos

2010-01-18T11:01:00.000-08:00

Editor's Note: I wrote this a few days ago

Today is out last full day in the land of colorful chaos. We leave tomorrow morning, and, despite the excitement of faraway lands, I'm rather looking forward to getting home.

We finished working at khalighat this afternoon. I have a newfound respect for those who work in geriatrics. It is so difficult caring for those who can no longer care for themselves. As I work with the women (feeding them, helping them exercise, etc...), I can't help but wonder who they were before they sucuumbing to their current state. Some of the women are mentally alert, and some even speak English, but many have resorted to an unfamiliar state. A state that reminds me so much of that as a child. One woman cries like a baby, one can simply scream in pain, and some can barely move at all; they just look at you with this empty gaze of pain that is so sad. As I tried to help one of these woman walk, I found myself asking God why he didn't just take her out of her misery. I wonder if these women had a family at one point -- if they worked, or whatever their story may be. Now, however, without the care of the Sisters (and, of course, God), God knows where they would spend their last days. Alone, most likely. The Sister's work definitely inspires me to care more about the poor.

Another thing that's cool about volunteering is that people come here from all over the world. Today I worked with a couple Argentinians, an Israeli, Italians, and a girl from New Zealand. Learning about and talking with people from different cultures is one of my favorite parts of traveling

Anyway, I'll talk more about the chaos of Kolkata. Have I mentioned yet, that men just bathe in the streets here? Yeah, they put a towel around their waist and scrub themselves down at streetside water pumps. At least they bathe I guess. So things in India are ridiculously cheap. Ridiculously. When we eat Indian food, all three of us can eat whole, good meals at a restaurant for like, under $5 USD. Taxis are around $1 for a 15-20 minute ride, and I got advil at a local pharmacy for 20 cents. I am going to have serious financial shock going back to the U.S. and paying $4.50 for a latte instead of a dollar. However, if I don't have to be deafened by car horns as I sip it, it just might be worth the money...

Calcutta: Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity

2010-01-12T05:04:00.001-08:00

The reason we came to Calcutta was to volunteer with Mother Teresa's ministry, Missionaries of Charity. On Monday, we went to volunteer orientation. The volunteers consist wholly of Western Europeans, and Koreans. We signed up to volunteer at Khaligat --- the house Mother Teresa set up for the destitute and dying -- during the afternoon. There were no spots for us to volunteer in the morning, so we agreed to help the sisters out with odd jobs around their living quarters during that time.

This morning was our first day of volunteering. We got up early and attended mass at 6:00 a.m. We then ate a breakfast of bananas, bread and chai, before cleaning and organizing around the nuns administrative and living quarters. It was really interesting talking with people there. The sister who is in charge of volunteers is an American. She was in DC before being transferred to Calcutta. Apparently nuns are not really allowed to keep in contact with people in the outside world. They take a vow of poverty so they don't use mail, or e-mail. Their families are allowed to call them, but they cannot call their families, and while families are allowed to visit nuns, nuns can only visit their families once every ten years. That's nuts. One more reason I cannot be a nun. I like e-mail too much. It's very humbling though, observing the sister's commitment to God. They are completely obedient and reverant -- willing to give up anything for Jesus and thus the poor.

We arrived late to our afternoon volunteer post. Navigating Indian streets is pretty much impossible. I road a public transportation bus today, packed with people. Between that and the train I think I'm officially allowed to call myself hardcore. Very intense experiences.

Anyway, despite arriving late we were able to help out a bit. I served food and washed dishes at Khaligat, which is pretty much a hospice. It is lined with beds, where mostly old, tiny women lay. Most of them are dying, but a few will recover I'm told. It's really sad. But, again, really humbling. In the Bible it says that the first will be last, and the last first. I can't help but thinking about that statement as I walk through beds of old women, without anyone to care for them and no means of taking care of themselves. But according to God, they aren't the least of these; they are of invaluable worth. Consequently, serving them should be an honor.

I can't say I totally have the above mindset yet, but confronted with so much suffering, it makes me ponder such a concept more than ever. It's easy to elude suffering and pondering back in the comforts of the U.S. -- for me anyway, not everyone.

Tomorrow, we will go back to Khaligat and the mother house. Thursday we have off and Friday will be our last day. Right now, I'm going to go enjoy some more Indian food and India's famous Kingfisher beer. It will be just the thing to give me energy for tomorrow.

Calcutta: The Enigma Continues

2010-01-12T04:49:00.000-08:00

There is no way, that I could find words sufficient enough to describe the enigma that is India. That being said, I will try anyway.

We arrived in Kolkata (aka Calcutta) Monday morning via train. The 14 hour train ride from Darjeeling to Kolkata was truly a once in a lifetime experience. I can't say I will ever try to relive such an experience again. We rode 3rd class, AC. When the train pulls up in the station and opens it doors, the crowds rush. There is no rhyme or reason or personal space, you just have to shove your way into your seat. At first, I thought I was going to die. Vendors and street kids come and go, selling and begging down the aisles until the next station, where they get off. My saving grace was that at night, train staff locks down the train, and we all get our own bunk so sleep on -- complete with clean sheets. Or so I hope. I did see one of the first cockroaches of my life crawling on the train walls. Yummmm.

So after 14 or so hours you arrive at the train station, only to step out into more chaos. In India, cows just like, lie in the middle of the street (more so in rural areas I guess, but also in the city). People just swerve to avoid them, because after all, they believe a god lives inside of them. The train stations have chickens, dogs, goats, you name it. And everyone crowds around you hoping to sell you something. Thankfully, my travelmates met some nice locals on the train, and one of them guided us through the throngs to a legit taxi.

I like Kolkata better than New Delhi. New Delhi just gives me a bad vibe. Kolkata is full of color and chaos. I have never seen so many people in my entire life. I also almost die every time I cross the street -- the traffic here takes no prisoners. When we first arrived here and checked into our hotel, we headed straight for a Pizza Hut. There was no messing around. Pizza Hut was a pretty normal experience, it was exciting.

What wasn't a normal experience was our dinner. We ate at a South India restaurant, that had really good food (Dosas=yum). The strange thing was, however, that our waiter was barefoot. Like, he just didn't want to put on shoes that day. It was a relatively nice restaurant. Things got even stranger when he cleared out table. He grabbed an empty water bottle, as waiters usually do when you're done. Instead of taking it to the kitchen though, like normal, he just put it in a plant pot next to our table. What? A plant pot? Just another normal day in Kolkata.. Everything here definitely keeps you on your toes.

India: Sunrise in the Himalayas

2010-01-08T21:36:00.001-08:00

So backtracking a bit to the ride up to Darjeeling. I say ride, but it was so much more than that. It was three hours of me hiding gasps of fear as we climbed up windy, seriously bumpy, mountain roads, dodging animals, cars and people, all the while listening to cheesy covers of classic 80s hits like, "Ghostbusters," and "Like a Virgin." It was quite the experience. We were all sick by the time we reached the city, which is built snugly on the side of the mountain, overlooking the Himalayas.

Darjeeling is a quiet town, everything closes down at 8:30. We arrived at 8:15, and thus had 15 minutes to get ourselves to a restaurant or starve. We managed the former and I dined on chicken fried rice and sweet and sour chicken. Let me just say when I ordered sweet and sour chicken I was thinking LeeAnn Chinn's. That is not what I received. Apparently, real sweet and sour chicken is much more sour than sweet, and so not as good as it's American counterpart.

After dinner we went to bed. We got up at 4:15 a.m. the next morning to head to Tiger Hill and catch the sunrise over Kangchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world and part of the Himalayas. In the distance, you could see the tip of Mt. Everest, thought it looked small as it was fairly far away. It was nothing short of amazing to see the sunrise over the Himalayas, illuminating the peaks in soft pinks and oranges. I was tired, considering I'm not sure I've ever awaken at 4:15 a.m. in my life, but it was worth it.

India: Two Weeks of Fame

2010-01-08T21:03:00.000-08:00

Hi again from Darjeeling. I know I left off saying I'd discuss the ride up here but I have to mention one other strange thing here first.

Indian tourists love to take pictures with white people. It's fairly odd. I was first approached for a photo op at the Taj Mahal, by a group of sightseeing Indian guys. I was hesitant at their primary request, but finally acquiesced. There were about five of them, and they didn't just want a photo with their group and I, they wanted a photo of me and every individual member of their group. So I posed for about five photos. Laughing, I said goodbye as they thanked me and walked on, thinking perhaps they were a strange anomaly. I was wrong. Not long after, I was approached by another group of Indian guys who requested the same thing. "We are Indian, and you are not," explained one guy upon photo request. I laughed and went along with the whole thing again.

By the time another group of Indian guys approached me yesterday at Tiger Hill, I had figured out that wanting to take pictures with white girls was apparently the norm in this country. And it's not just men that want pictures with you, but girls and young women as well. Shopping on the streets of Darjeeling last night, this young Indian woman approached me giggling, and introduced herself. "You want a photo?" I asked, and she said yes and we posed. Laughing, she tried to explain in broken English why she wanted a photo. "I am black," she said, "and you are white. Thank you." I burst out laughing. So strange. She's not even black she's Indian but I suppose that's beside the point. The point is, in fact, that if you are white and want your 15 minutes of fame, come to India. They will be asking for photo ops like you are Angelina Jolie or something. You just might get your time in the sun, before you have to go back home and go back to being just another face in the crowd.

India: Cows, Chaos and Adventure

2010-01-07T19:36:00.000-08:00

Greetings from India! I am currently in Darjeeling -- tea capital of the world. It's the sixth day of the trip however, so I will start from the beginning and end up in Darjeeling on some other post.

We arrived in Delhi on Monday night, exhausted. Delhi is the definition of chaos. I'm pretty sure one more day there and I would have literally gone into the middle of the street and started screaming "STOP DRIVING LIKE CRAZY PEOPLE!" The concept of lanes does not exist there, despite the white lines painted on the roads. When we were there it was "Driving Safety Week," or something. There were tons of people on the side of the roads w/ signs that said "lane driving is safe driving," or "drive safe, drive again." Unfortunately, their signs weren't very effective.

Despite the chaos the city was relatively interesting. Perhaps the most interesting part was riding on a rickshaw -- which is a cart pulled by a biker. The rickshaw drivers pulled you around the skinny market roads where people sold gorgeous, glittering saaris, bangles, food and every other trinket you can imagine. And everything is super cheap. Even a mini pizza at Pizza Hut is like, $2. Yes they have Pizza Hut in India. It only took us one day to get sick of Indian food, which consists of curry. I know people talk about globalization like it's a bad thing. But personally, I don't really mind it. I mean, I can go anywhere in the world and get a little piece of home, whether that piece be a Pizza Hut or brand name or weird Kenny G Christmas music playing in a restaurant in New Delhi. True, I am an American so I get the ultimate advantage of globalization but still...

The second day of our Delhi experience, our driver took us to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Agra is a four hour drive from Delhi, but that does not mean it's 360 miles. Not, it's like half that, but driving in India is not exactly an American freeway experience, as I mentioned above. The car ride to Agra may have been the worst car ride I've ever experienced. It was four hours of dodging people, dogs, trucks, cows, whatever, and almost running into them multiple times. It was four hours of constant honking --- the horn seems to be an Indian driver's best friend. I personally want to destroy all car horns at the moment, but I'm trying to control myself.

Anyway, the trip to the Taj Mahal was well worth it. The monument was incredible. I was actually surprised at how amazing it was. I am proud to announce that this is the third wonder of the world I have seen...only four more to go!

Seeing the Taj took the whole day. The next day, we hopped on a four-hour plane ride to Bagdogra, India, from which we took a three hour car ride up the mountains to Darjeeling. That car ride will be the subject of a following blog. Let me just say it included fear, animals and weird covers of "Billie Jean" and "Ghostbusters." It was great. To be continued...

Unanswered Prayers.

2009-12-30T08:08:00.000-08:00

I'm sick. It's been a miserable three days, and I'm still not completely better. I don't think I have ever taken this long to recover from any sickness - besides the ten days I spent in the hospital in 1988, recovering from pneumonia - but that was so long ago it doesn't count.

With so much time on my hands, and the complete lack of ability to do anything with it, I have been thinking a lot. Most recently, my thoughts stumbled upon a song I heard the last time I was driving in the car; Garth Brook's "Unanswered Prayers." In the song, he talks about how he thanks God for unanswered prayers - particularly the prayer he prayed in high school to marry the homecoming queen or whatever.

This got me thinking about how I used to pray to God every night in middle school that he would let me marry Jonathan Taylor Thomas - Home Improvement hottie and pre-teen idol extraordinaire of the mid-90s. I prayed so religiously that I still remember the exact words of my prayer: "Dear God, please let me live a long, long, happy, happy, healthy, healthy life. Please bless mom, dad, Megan and Caitlin, Grandma and Grandpa, everyone else in my family and everyone else in the world who needs help. And please, please, let me marry Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Thank you, Amen."

See, I used to pray "please let me live a happy, healthy, long life," but then I felt that I really needed to emphasize that prayer by saying those three words twice. That's a side note however.

Anyway, I would like to take this time to thank God for not answering my prayer to marry Jonathan Taylor Thomas. For one, he's probably gay at this point or something, and two, he's like 5'4, and three - there are many other reasons. So, thank you God, for unanswered prayers.

Whew, writing that took a lot out of me. I am going to lay down for a bit and try to get the energy to shower for the first time in days. It will probably take an hour nap or so to motivate my will, so here I go. Amen.

Marley and Ollie's Christmas Duet

2009-12-25T10:47:00.000-08:00

My mom's goldendoodles sang a duet for us on Christmas Day. It takes about 20 seconds to get going, but then, it's hilarious.

Avatar

2009-12-20T10:11:00.001-08:00

Last night I somewhat unwillingly acquiesced the request of seeing the new, ultra-hyped movie Avatar. I definitely had my doubts, but all in all, it wasn't too bad. I would say it was a mixture of Ferngully and Dances with Wolves on steroids. The message was essentially a blend of the two. I mean, the indigenous people were dressed as Native Americans. James Cameron wasn't exactly subtle about the similarities.

We went to the 10:00 movie. So by the time 12:30 rolled around and the movie was still going, I'm not going to lie (again!), I was ready to go to sleep. Perhaps, though, I would have felt differently had it been another time. The special effects in Avatar were nothing short of amazing. I still don't know how they did the scenes where the humans and Avatars were holding each other. And, even though I became a bit bored towards the end, no one else with me felt the same. They all loved it.

Apparently it's playing in 3D at select places. Not going to lie, that sounds like motion sickness waiting to happen. Ugh. Though you would have a pretty sweet experience before throwing up so maybe it would be worth it.

So, my uneducated movie review: pretty good. I wouldn't see it again, but I feel like most people would disagree with me.

What Matters Most

2009-12-16T08:08:00.000-08:00

Hello!!! Five more days of school left. That means I am wasting more time online than ever. Perhaps this will benefit others because I am also finding more cool stuff online than ever. Like this ebook I stumbled across. It's cool. It has lots of interesting contributors. It is about answering the question, "What Matters Most."

Back to surfing the net.

America the Beautiful

2009-12-10T22:42:00.000-08:00

I just finished watching the most disturbing documentary - disturbing in a good way. It's called America the Beautiful and it's about America's beauty obsession. Some things I learned:

- The FDA doesn't really protect you from unsafe beauty products. It's banned seven ingredients, the EU's administration has banned 450.

- Plastic surgery=scary! So, in 1977, Congress passed a law saying that anyone with an MD could call him/herself a plastic surgeon. Many of the plastic surgeons today, aren't actually board certified and were trained as Obgyns or something. Additionally, most people who die from plastic surgery, don't actually die from the surgery, but from anesthesia.

- Model sizes really aren't normal. Like, really, they aren't. One of the reasons designers want them so skinny, is so they don't waste expensive fabric. A size four, is way cheaper to produce than a size 10 when you're dealing with high-price lace and cashmere.

- Women learn from their mothers. Never insult or complain about your body in front of your daughters.

- America's beauty ideals are seriously messed. We all know this, but now, I really know it. Yet, we're caught in this viscous cycle. Men see beauty ads/porn/whatever, expect women to look like that. Women want to be wanted by men -- not only by men -- but other women, so we spend and do all we can to conform. We get suckered in by those stupid mascara ads that promise to ad worth to our lives by adding length to our lashes.

- In a completely non-egotistical way, my body is great as is. I have recently been lamenting about gaining a few pounds and perhaps a size. But, now, I am asking, why? What's so great about a size two? A size two isn't normal if you're 5'7. I am normal and unique and normal and unique is great. And every woman I know is beautiful so don't get plastic surgery, because after watching this video it's clear if you do, you just might die...(da da duuunnn).

I realize this post got a little cheesy there in the end, but I'm feeling a bit emotional after watching the disturbing ideologies presented on my screen. It's a good film. Everyone should definitely check it out. Until then, don't go on any unhealthy diets. Good advice from me, once again:).

Money, Sex and Happiness

2009-12-08T08:20:00.000-08:00

I think my blog's content is going to consist more and more of random things I find online --- since I'm being a lazy writer lately. I read this blog by Penelope Trunk, and the latest post I read was about money and happiness. Apparently, once your basic needs are met, researchers have found that more money does not make you happy. Social relations, on the other hand, are key determinants to happiness. Here I will begin the P. Trunk quote:

"And by social relations, most researchers mean sex – with one, consistent partner. So consider giving your career aspirations a little less weight than you give your aspirations for sex. For those of you who like a tangible goal, David Blanchflower, professor of economics at Dartmouth College says, 'Going from sex once a month to sex once a week creates a big jump in happiness. And then the diminishing returns begin to set in." He adds, to the joy of all who are underemployed, 'It’s true that money impacts which person you marry, but money doesn’t impact the amount of sex you have.'"

Interesting. I am particularly intrigued by the "one, consistent partner" part.

The things you learn.

Back to my book review presentation.

Redeeming Love

2009-12-07T07:33:00.000-08:00

My friend who worked at HEAL Africa in Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo just sent me this story. I thought it was heartwarming thus, wanted to post it. Ta da:

This is the picture that gave me most joy today! She is one of our patients from Masisi territory from 2004. I remember finding her one evening in that horrible UNICEF tent you may remember. She had just arrived after walking for days and then riding on a rotten road from Masisi to Goma. She was far from term, with a baby conceived in terror and violence. Not surprisingly, she had gone into labour that evening. She nursed her baby in the incubator for 6 weeks. This is the baby! What else is this but redeeming love?

Ishara Lyn and her mother (Ishara means Miracle).

Darfur Relief Beads

2009-12-05T08:58:00.000-08:00

So I haven't been blogging lately because I've been lazy, but I wanted to give Darfur Relief Beads a quick shout out. My roommate showed me these bracelets she bought from Patina. Apparently, the purchase of one bracelet provides two months of education for a child ($13), and the purchase of five can save the life of a malnourished child. So if any of you are looking for stocking stuffers, you might want to check them out. Here they are at Patina:

On an unrelated note, did I mention I'm going to India in January?! Yeah! Look forward to some killer blogging from Spice country.

Ma Salaam.

Poor Grad Student Shares Money Saving Secrets

2009-11-22T09:41:00.001-08:00

Though I do have a pretty good tuition deal, as a graduate student, I'm not exactly rolling in the dough. As a result, I make it a point to dig for deals in any and all of my purchases.

Apparently, my reputation for garnering good deals proceeds me. There have been several requests for me to post some of my money-saving tips on my blog (ok, maybe more like one request, but there should have been several:). So if you want to save some money, read up! Here are some of my favorite sites for the thrifty-at-heart.

The best site ever was recently brought to my attention by Anne, my internet informant. Seriously, it's awesome. www.gomusicnow.com is a Russian music site (in English!) that sells entire albums for around $1.50, and single songs for 9 cents. Take that iTunes! I'm not paying $1.29 for a single song. You can pretty much find any album you want on this site. PLUS, albums are released a week earlier on this site than they are in the U.S. The only catch (which is not really a catch) is that you have to put $25 on your account at first. Then, the site acts like a debit card, subtracting from you account as you purchase albums. As soon as songs are downloaded, they go directly to you iTunes player. Anyone who doesn't take advantage of this site is kind of weird.

Speaking of music, another great way to save money on music (without downloading from those illegal sites) is to share music with friends through Dropbox.com. You can just create a folder with a friend, and share music by dropping your mp3s in the dropbox, and downloading ones that were dropped for you.

When it comes to more tangible products, such as makeup, all I can say is ebay, ebay, ebay!!! Seriously people, NEVER pay full price for makeup. Whenever I need something, I head straight for ebay and usually get it for at the very least, 25% retail prices. My latest steal was six pigment eyeshadows from L'oreal, that retail at about $10 each. What did I pay for them? $8 for ALL. Score. Usually, these deals are possible because individuals will sell items on ebay at wholesale prices. Other things I usually nab on that site are lotions, Crest white strips, and just recently a North Face jacket for $70 off. It's sweet.

OK I have to start working on my homework. I don't want to. Go save some money!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNE

2009-11-17T10:05:00.001-08:00

That's all. I hope your six-year anniversary of 21 is fun.

Belated Halloween Post: Blackface. Halloween Fail.

2009-11-14T11:58:00.000-08:00

It continues to amaze me that people don’t get that dressing up in blackface for Halloween is not okay. Most white people my age, they have never even heard of blackface, so when I suggest that it’s highly offensive, they are often like, “yeah, whatever.

Hey, I didn’t make the rules – and neither did you. You can’t just say it’s not offensive, and then expect no one to be offended by it. Unless you want to go back and chnge historyand I haven’t met anyone with those capabilities yet. It is arrogant to assume that you, a white person, can decide that something doesn’t matter anymore. That’s as arrogant as the white people who decided to play blackface in the first place – because blacks weren't good enough to represent themselves.

Now I know many people just don’t know about the history of blackface. If you don't, Wikipedia it. Wikipedia=the answer to everything. Anyway, I found out about blackface my junior year of high school. We were in a Native American unit in history class, and had to do some group project on Native Americans. I don't remember the point is us doing this, but our group decided to make a video portraying stereotypes of Native Americans. So, some of the guys painted their faces red/brown, and pretended to drink a lot of beer.

I look back and wince. Needless to say, our history teacher was quick to gently point out the inappropriateness of our portrayal --- and the reason behind it.

In conclusion, if you still don't believe me that blackface is offensive, google how many news stories there are about some witless white person donning it on Halloween and creating a ruckus. This year, the ruckus was centered on a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, who decided to be Lil' Wayne. It didn't work out too well for her, as you can imagine.

The end.

Lady Gaga is Crazy

2009-11-11T11:05:00.000-08:00

But, highly addictive. My personal gossip columnist/J-school colleague Melissa informed me of Gaga's latest creation this morning, and it was stuck in both of our heads for the rest of the day. Check out her new video and you too, may be strangely fascinated, and singing "bad romance" all day long...

Bad Romance, Lady Gaga

Deep Thoughts on the Next Decade

2009-10-27T16:16:00.001-07:00

I feel bad for people who are going to graduate in this upcoming decade. Not because of jobs, or air pollution or whatever, but because it's going to be awkward saying their graduation year.

This enlightening thought popped into my mind as I was crossing the Washington Ave. Bridge this afternoon. I noticed a sign that read "Help welcome the class of 2014." I then realized that this year's graduating class was the class of '10. The class of '10. That sucks. You ask someone when they graduate and they say "ten." Ten what? Ten days, ten months? Just think about saying, "I'm the class of '11." The class of 11. It just doesn't sound right. The number is low enough where it sounds like there are eleven people in your class.

In addition to feeling sorry for the upcoming graduating classes, I began to realize how old I am becoming. Whew! Oh well. To quote Oscar Wilde, "What is youth but an unripe time?" I am much happier now than I ever was in my early twenties. Granted, I'm not actually old yet but whatever... I'm choosing to believe that life gets better with age.

Plus, the class of '05 doesn't sound awkward. Sure, I graduated in a decade that no one could decide what to name (the Ots? 2000s? Tens?), but at least the individual years sound good. That's more than the "teens" decade will be able to say.

A Lesson on Aspberger's

2009-10-25T20:53:00.000-07:00

The other day, my ever-so-in-the-know roommate Molly asked if I’d heard of the writer Penelope Trunk. I had not, so I decided to google her, and the search brought up a plethora of results. Apparently, she’s been in the a lot of reputable newspapers, and currently writes a blog called the “Brazen Careerist,” in which she gives career advice--particularly to individuals in their twenties. I was relatively impressed with her writing, and was half-way through her most recent post, when Trunk casually mentioned she had Asperger’s Syndrome.

I was confused. Asperger’s is a mild form of Autism. Usually, people living with Asperger’s lack social skills needed for career success. That was my impression anyway. So, I asked Molly—who happens to be an Autism specialist thanks to her job—how someone with Asperger’s, like Trunk, could be so successful.

Molly’s reply was very educational. Your insight into the realm of autism will double, perhaps even triple, after reading her responses below. Note: This conversation was over gchat. The modern way to socialize.

Autism Gchat Convo. 101.

me: how do you function in society with Aspberger’s? I mean, be successful? That would explain why she broadcast her miscarriage on twitter I suppose

Molly: I have a staff who has it, and yes that would explain it. Autism is weird because you can move from having "severe autism" to Aspberger’s in some cases with the proper interventions. Some kids also start out without having any diagnosis, are developing typically and then begin to lose all language and social skills and are diagnosed with autism, this happened to a client at age 14, regressive autism its called I believe.

Strange, isn’t it? That’s why everyone is so concerned about the epidemic. One in every 150 kids is being diagnosed on the spectrum!

me: Wow that sucks, 14! So this trunk woman, can she function normally then? I mean, if she's successfully giving people advice?

Molly: Well, she's probably gone through a TON of cognitive-behavioral therapy and still does it, probably a lot of things she does seem off to most people, but they probably can't quite put their finger on what it is. For example saying exactly what she thinks.

me: Yeah. I suppose. It's just strange because I always thought you need good social skills to be in a field of career advice and journalism.

Molly: She probably has a really hard times in loud, bright places and needs a lot of breaks, its probably all stuff that is manageable now, but was super difficult to control. People with Aspberger’s usually go through intensive cognitive behavioral therapy and do social skills groups where they learn what is appropriate and what is not. They may understand life as more scripted than you or I, because that's how their minds function. They can for sure do it; they just have to learn it differently than other kids

me: It's more like, live by laws...rather than by relationship…I just subscribed to her blog, it's good.

Molly: Yeah, to some degree, but its not to say that there's no emotion, because there definitely is, it’s just difficult for them to process through it.

me: Perhaps I will have to turn this informative gchat into a blog.

Molly: YES! Success! You should interview me more. I am informative. ...On the ground!

Editor's Note: The "on the ground" references was to a SNL digital short you must google. Now.

Rain Rain Go Away & Halloween Blues

2009-10-23T07:40:00.001-07:00

What's going on here? Do I live in Seattle? It's been raining for like, all of October. I don't think I've ever kept my umbrella in my schoolbag before. I just sounded like a second grader when I said schoolbag. Oh well.

Ok, let's transition to Halloween. I have always been really annoyed with Halloween. It takes so much effort to come up with a costume, and I'm forced to once a year. Usually, I just throw something stupid on the day of, but this year, I feel obligated to think out my false persona for once.

How do people come up with good costume ideas? I have no idea. Everything I think of either requires too much money, too much effort, or is really lame. Last year, I was an ex-pat. It was kind of stupid. My friends came up with killer ideas. Four of them were the perfect representation of John and Cindy McCain, and Sarah and Todd Palin. I had a colorful sheet wrapped around me.

Something's gotta give. Perhaps it will this year. I have plans to attack the Salvation Army downtown tomorrow, in hopes to find Halloween costume gold. Wish me luck.

A Seminar For Teaching Assistants...

2009-10-19T18:00:00.001-07:00

Hahahaha. I just received an e-mail from the University of MN Center for Teaching and Learning (because I'm a TA), advertising its upcoming seminars.

I'm sure all of you armed with degrees from big schools remember constantly complaining about not being able to understand your math professors. Well, it looks like someone finally listened.

An upcoming teaching seminar for University teachers (as copied from my e-mail):

Fine Tune Your Accent

Mondays, 1-2 p.m.
In this workshop series, international faculty, scholars, and graduate students will uncover the nuances of English pronunciation that matter most for conveying meaning effectively in U.S. academic settings: fluency, emphasis, and tone of voice. Participants will learn and practice research-based speaking strategies to enhance classroom teaching and conference presentations.

* Oct. 26 - Fluency
* Nov. 23 - Emphasis

* Dec. 21 - Tone of Voice

Hahaha, oh this is so funny to me for some reason. I wish my math teacher would have taken this. Maybe then I would have actually understood college algebra. Actually, I highly doubt it.

Happy Hour and Mindball

2009-10-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

It's official, I cannot relax to save my life. My uptight norm was proved today during a strenuous game of Mindball at the Bakken Museum (a electricity museum founded by Earl Bakken, creator of Medtronic). Mindball is a fascinating game. You sit across from another person, you both put these headbands on, and then you try to relax. There is a ball in the center that moves with your brainwaves, so, whoever is more stressed draws the ball towards them, and loses. I lost hard core. No competition. My roommate, Molly, however, surprisingly beat numerous people. I had no idea she was so relaxed!!!

The reason we went somewhere as geeky as the Bakken today, is because we wanted to check out its "Bakken Night Out," which happens every second Tuesday of the month. It was sweet actually. We had buy one get one free coupons to get in. Thus, it was $2.50 to go, and once you got in, you got free wine and appetizers, plus free reign of the museum. So we played Mindball and watched a play about Mary Shelly -- the author of Frankenstein. It was pretty interesting. Do you know, Frankenstein is actually the creator of Frankenstein (Victor Von Frankenstein), and who we call Frankenstein today was actually called "The Monster" in the novel.

Who knew?

Only those who have actually read the book --- or those who, like me, go to science museum's for happy hour. Hey, sometimes, you just gotta live a little.

Suburban Revolutionaries. Yuck.

2009-10-05T22:13:00.001-07:00

You know what bothers me – well, besides my ridiculously slow and irregular internet? White Americans that get all revolutionary about Palestine. Well, I should say, about giving Palestine its independence.

I have no qualms about Palestinian independence. Believe me. In fact, you might even say that I am an advocate of Palestinian Independence and the good ‘ol two-state solution. However, this does not mean I will wear a PLO (Palestinian Liberation Organization) scarf to Arabic class. Why? Because I grew up in Hastings. I am not Palestinian nor am I part of the PLO. NOR do I really realize what it would be like to be a part of the PLO. So I will not wear the scarf! I will also, not wear a t-shirt that says I (heart) Palestine when my hair is blonde, roots are German and my hometown is Edina.

There’s this girl in my Arabic class, who is, by all means, a very nice girl. She’s been to the Middle East once to study abroad. She’s painfully American. But everyday she wears this PLO scarf to class, and once, she wore the "I heart" t-shirt I was complaining about. I mean, how did she come to be so personally passionate about Palestine? I guess every cause needs its advocates. At least she’s passionate about something.

However.

It is a bit ridiculous. European-Americans passionate about Palestinian Independence could be compared, perhaps somewhat, to suburban teenagers who wear Che Guevera shirts.

Che Guevara? Really? You’re not a revolutionary. You love Target, and if not that then at least iTunes. If socialism were forced upon you, you’d complain about it. So go sit down, take off your Guevara shirt and put on some Hollister.

Really people. OK. End of rant.

Mall of America: Worse than Lady Gaga

2009-09-21T20:42:00.001-07:00

Everyday as I stand waiting for the bus, I see a bus pass by with a Mall of America ad plastered to its side. I would just like to take this moment to say that I hate Mall of America ads, because they shamelessly promote unadulterated consumerism worse than Lady Gaga.

The ad I saw today pictured a woman holding a gorgeous purse, and said, "Is that a new purse, or did you just get more interesting?" Horrible! However, that one is nothing compared to the one I saw yesterday, which stated something like, "You can always get better looking." Alluding, of course, to the idea that 1) you should get better looking (duh), and 2) MOA clothing and accessories will make you better looking.

I hate these stupid ads! Especially, since I look at them and think - "oh, sweet, I need that new purse it is so cute. The one I'm carrying sucks!" I am easily swept up into the material world. This is not a positive character trait that I want promoted by Mall of America.

Whew. Okay that's all. I just needed to rant. Because I'm still dreaming of that quilted, black, Coach purse that swept by via a Metro Transit bus this afternoon...

International Right to Know Day

2009-09-19T10:23:00.000-07:00

I sometimes write for the local news source, Twin Cities Daily Planet. I just wrote another piece for them about International Right to Know Day. Check it out below:

International Right to Know Day

Thank you for your readership:).

We Got Money. A lot.

2009-09-16T22:44:00.000-07:00

So I'm taking this class entitled World Development Problems on Wednesday nights, and on Monday afternoons I'm taking Human Rights Advocacy. Between the two courses, the incredible privilege I live in has really been brought to my attention. I know we've all heard it before, but just sit down and really think about it for a second. I don't care how broke you are right now --- if you're reading this post you are most likely in the top 1/5 richest people in the world. You are wealthy.

I was reading this chart today in my world development class. The chart was on the living styles of the world's three major classes: overclass, middle class, and underclass. Right away, my assumption was, "oh, I'm definitely middle class." Then, I read the descriptions. I've copied them below for your reading pleasure, they are circa 1992:

Global Class: Overclass
Category of consumption overconsumers (1.1 bil)
Income per capita over USD$7,500
Diet meats/packaged foods
Calories consumed too many
Transport private cars
Materials throwaways
Shelter spacious/climatized
Clothing image conscious

Middle:
Category of consumption: moderates (3.3b)
Income per capita: $700-7500
Diet: grain, clean water
Calories consumed: about right
Transport: bicycles/public tranport
Materials: durables
Shelter: modest/ext. family
Clothing: functional

Category of consumption Marginals (1.1)
Income per capita: less than $700
Diet: insufficient grain/ unsafe water
Calories consumed: too few
Transport: foot/donkeys
Materials: local biomass
Shelter: rudimentary
Clothing: secondhand/scraps

So according to this chart, I am swimming in it. You are too. It's just strange, because we are all surrounded by those who have just as much -- so we never think we're rich. We think other people are rich. People with Mercedes and huge homes. We complain about being broke and poor.

Broke and poor? Please. If I'm hungry with no money... well wait, that's never happened to me. It probably never will happen to me. I have my own car, my own room. That's apparently more than four billion + people have on this earth. That's crazy. We are privileged beyond belief. To say that we are broke is an affront to the people who actually are broke. Instead of not being able to buy those Seven jeans, they can't buy their dinner.

Sorry, I don't mean to get all preachy here. I'm just awed by this myself as it all starts to sink in. I'm not sure what to do about it, except for try to give where needed--- to the extent that I'm able. As Spiderman discovers time and time again...with great power comes great responsiblity. I'd like to say that I will be responsible with the privilege I have, by somehow making a dent in the seemingly undentable scales of global inequality. Perhaps I will begin...by curing AIDS. Jk. I'll let you know my mode of operation for using my responsibility as soon as I figure it out.

Keep on Trucking--A TV Series

2009-09-14T19:37:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I wish this blog was anonymous so I could actually talk about all the crazy-weird stuff that goes on in my life, without giving away anyone's secrets or offending anyone.

I just had to say that.

On a side note, my roommate and I recently came up with an idea for a new T.V. series. It will be based on the corporate world of trucking. Characters will include a young HR recruiter, a pregnant lady who smokes, a woman who often gets confused for a man and clips her nails at her desk, several grimy truckers who hit on the young HR recruiter, and maybe we'll throw an ex-con in there for good measure. Stay tuned. You may see it on a major network fairly soon. Especially since the series will be based on the tales of the young HR worker -- who recently got a job with a more reputable institution.

Next time I write in here, I promise to have something substantial to say. Until then -- this is all I got.

I'm Back!! But Journalism, Is Not

2009-09-11T13:26:00.000-07:00

Now that school has started up again -- and my face is more often in front of a computer -- I think I may start blogging again as well.

So, I will begin my comeback blog with a rant. Journalism, is in serious trouble and we need to do something about it. Yeah, I get it, everyone knows this, but I'm still frustrated with it. It's just that journalists (pullitzer prize winning ones) are being laid off left and right, research budgets are being cut, and I'm finding typos in the New York Times for crying out loud. All of this wouldn't be so bad, except the implications go far beyond a light, sub-par Sunday newspaper.

The implications are about our freedom. I'm not even being dramatic.

Think about. The health of a democracy is DIRECTLY associated with the health of its free press. In the words of Helen Thomas, journalists are watchdogs of democracy. They dig up information, keep governments, corporations in check. I mean look what happened to Nixon people! If no one is charged with digging up covered secrets --- well then secrets will be kept --- and we all know that government secrecy breeds power. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. (Great phrase - I don't care if you think it's overused.)

We don't want to end up like the USSR people. Or even (although I say this with hesitancy) even Russia -- where 792 journalists have been killed since 1992. That is a lot of people for a developed country. Or any country.

Point is, we need to fix this problem. We need to start paying journalists, paying for a news. It does a whole lot more than make us smarter, and give us random facts to impress our friends with. It maintains our democracy. Not to mention, the disintegration of journalism will leave me without the job I actually want upon graduation. Boo. Now therein lies the real problem...jk.

Support journalism, seek a solution. In the long run - and even in the short run - our freedom depends on it.

Retiring in Chimp Haven

2009-08-05T15:48:00.001-07:00

They spend their whole lives eating and playing, don’t save a dime for retirement, and yet they get to spend their later years living lives of leisure in warm climates. No, I’m not talking about Connecticut blue bloods, I’m talking about American Chimpanzees. That’s right, Chimps.

I just finished listening to an episode of This American Life (a lovely Chicago Public Radio production) discussing this phenomenon of chimp retirement homes. I found it relatively crazy. Apparently, there are around 2,600 captive chimps living in America today—kept around for research, entertainment or even companionship purposes. The amount of research chimps in the U.S. skyrocketed with the onset of AIDS. Originally, researchers thought chimps held the keys to understanding the virus. It is now widely known, however, that they definitely do not.

Chimps live quite a long time; the oldest American chimp is around a whopping 75 years old. Yet, their usefulness as performers or scientific guinea pigs only lasts so long. So naturally, they need somewhere to grow old. Enter retirement homes such as Chimp Haven in Shreveport, Louisiana. Chimp Haven is an active living community for retired lab chimps. It can house up to 900 chimps at a time and has a bunch of sweet features. I guess it’s like this $30 million complex. Chimps get to watch T.V., drink banana smoothies and play in the woods for as long as their little hearts are beating.

I’ll bet a lot of human senior citizens would stop playing bridge for a chance to live that good. Chimps live the life – and they only had to work for like, five years. And I thought dogs had it good. Man, was I wrong.

I'm From Minnesota, Land of the Cold Air

2009-07-22T17:23:00.001-07:00

Until this past winter, I’ve always thought Minnesota winters were fairly normal. Perhaps a bit colder and longer than elsewhere -- but not by much. Consequently, I assumed residents of other states were simply ignorant or ridiculously wimpy for fearing Minnesota’s annual chill.

I was wrong.

Well, perhaps not on the wimpy part -- but definitely in my assumption of others’ ignorance. Minnesota’s winters are not normal. A two-week visit to the Pacific Northwest last January revealed the harsh reality that winters outside my beloved state are much, much, warmer.

Today, Ann(i)e, my friend with too much Portland pride and not enough for the MPLA, sent me CNN Money’s list of the coldest cities in the nation. Minnesota dominates the list. In fact, thirteen of the top fifteen cities on the list are located in Minnesota. The only other towns to make the cut are Anchorage, AK at #4, and Sheboygan, WI at #11. Hastings, MN – the town that raised me well – is at a solid #7 on the list. How sobering.

Sobering it may be, but the reality of Minnesota’s colder-than-thou climate also gives me more reason to brag. I'm tougher than everyone else. So take that Portland and your tire chains!!! (JK Anne.)

I still have Minnesota pride. I'm from Minnesota, land of the cold air. I stole that line from Atmosphere, so I may as well continue with the theft. To all those who don't like Minnesota: "It sucks that you think where I’m from is wack, but as long as that’s enough to keep you’re a** from coming back!”

Go MN.

Editor's note: quotations are from Atmosphere's homeland-raving jam “Shh." Check it out.

The Heart of the Matter: Forgiveness

2009-07-16T15:08:00.001-07:00

Editors note: This was written Monday, and I forgot to post it until now. Oh well.

Last night I went to Upper Room for the first time in a really long time. I knew the church was having a guest speaker who had appeared on PBS – so I was intrigued by what she may have to say. The topic of the evening was forgiveness, and apparently the woman speaking had severely struggled with this topic for a good part of her life – having been abducted, raped and tortured as a teenager.

When I arrived at the service, they introduced the night’s guest speaker as Debbie Morris. Ms. Morris’ story is more widely known than I thought. It turns out her abductor was Robert Willy – the man Sean Penn portrays in Dead Man Walking. The night Debbie was abducted she was 16 and was in her car eating ice cream with her boyfriend Mark. Robert Willy and another guy put a gun to her head, brought them to some undisclosed location, tortured her boyfriend and left him for dead. Debbie was raped and tortured for 30 hours before she persuaded them to let her go. During the time Willy and Co. held her captive, Debbie realized they had been responsible for the murder of 18 year-old Faith Hathaway just a few days earlier. Amazed she had not been murdered like Faith; Debbie rushed back to her family to explain what happened. Miraculously, Mark was found alive – though he was paralyzed on his right side for about six months.

Anyway, so Debbie is a Christian, and at Upper Room, she spoke about her journey of forgiveness. How she had to forgive Robert Willy and his sidekick, and how hard it had been, but yet how freeing it was at the same time. She kept saying how forgiveness wasn’t for him – her perpetrator – but rather it was for her. I thought it was so amazing how God worked to heal a pain as deep as hers. She said that for her to stand up and speak about the situation with no pain was indeed a miracle – and just a testament to how truth and obedience can set you free—even if it seems impossible. She also spoke about Sister Helen – the nun Susan Sarandon portrayed in Dead Man Walking. Debbie said she hated Sister Helen at first, she didn’t understand what they were doing. Finally, she decided that if Sister Helen was indeed doing God’s work, then it would not only be good for Robert Willy, but it would be good for her as well. Debbie called Sister Helen up one night to see if her motivations were indeed pure (motivations for not only guiding Willy, but writing her book about it). She said they had the most wonderful conversation, and they are now dear friends. They even speak together about the situation on occasion.

Point of the above few paragraphs is this: It’s amazing what God can do when we obey him even when it hurts, and even when it seems to go against human rationale. If Debbie hadn’t forgiven her captors, she would still be in their captivity. However, she followed the truth of forgiveness—even though it must have been harder than I can even fathom—and that truth set her free

Summer 2009: I Love My Life

2009-07-09T13:21:00.000-07:00

My roommate came home today early, to work from home. It was around 2:00 p.m., and I, as usual these days, was sitting around "twiddling my thumbs," as they called it back in the day. My roommate, Molly, casually asked me what I was up to this afternoon. I replied, "Welp, I'm just waiting for my iPod to charge so I can go for a run - and then I think I might go to happy hour."

She started laughing. "You know," Molly said, "the other day I was talking to my co-worker about your life right now, and how you have it so easy because you're being essentially paid to take a class four hours a day and have nothing else to do."

Apparently, Molly's conversation with her co-worker arose from an e-mail I sent out the other day. "We're all really stressed at work right now," she continued, "so I started laughing when you sent out an e-mail asking if any of us had seen the new 'quick dry nail polish' you had just bought and now couldn't find. If only that were the biggest of my problems."

I started laughing. A lot. Because she's totally right. I have it good right now, thank you God. Molly forgot to tell her co-worker, however, that not only is my Arabic class the only commitment on my agenda this summer, it is also a class I have pretty much already taken and thus necessary study time is minimal. This means that I get to spend a lot of time reading and twiddling my thumbs. And going to Jordan and happy hour. Ah, if only this life could last forever.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. Thus, I'm sure when the craziness of school begins in September I will be wistfully longing for summer days gone by. Right now, however, I'm living them. Glory glory hallelujah. Don't worry though, I'm not completely wasting my time. My Arabic is getting pretty dang good. Well, at least when it comes to reading sentences that involve words about family, school or the weather. I'm hoping my abilities will go beyond that by the end of the summer. If they don't, well, with my schedule, I guess I don't have any excuse. Ah.

Ok, back to charging my iPod - my main activity for the day :).

A Revelation, Thanks to Michael Jackson

2009-06-29T22:36:00.000-07:00

In these past few days following Michael Jackson’s death, the number of times I’ve heard “Man in the Mirror” has most likely doubled the amount of times I’ve heard it in my entire life. Despite the song’s overwhelming repetition, I’ve not grown tired of being pressed to “make that change,” again... and again. In fact, after hearing it on the radio, I’ve often purposely pressed play on iTunes for just one more listen. I'm even discovering live renditions of the song I've never seen before – such as MJ’s live performance at the 1988 Grammies. A performance TIME magazine calls “the best use of a Gospel choir in a pop song…ever.” I would agree. Jackson bears his soul and inspires awe in that "Man in the Mirror" performance. It's pretty much unforgetable.

Although “Man in the Mirror,” along with other MJ songs and performances, have been inspiring me since Thursday - Michael Jackson’s memory has also left me dismally uninspired. Reflecting on his life with the help of multi-media memoirs, I've come to realize the world of pop music has miserably fallen since the days MJ graced the stage. Today’s mainstream pop is completely void of musical/performance greatness. We have no one close to Michael Jackson to entertain us, no one close to the great performers of the past who wowed and inspired audiences in every sense of the word.

Though I was too young to remember Jackson’s musical feats live– as a child I remember being in wowed by amazing stars of the 90s – as much as I was just wowed by MJ’s 1988 onstage magic. Stars like Mariah Carey (who, although she came back, is definitely not as great as she used to be), who left me in tears after singing “One Sweet Day,” with Boys II Men at the Grammies in 1996. Both artists helped write the song, and performed it was passion and grace. Even the Britney of ten years ago outperforms any pop starlet of today – despite her lip-syncing tendencies (see “…Baby One More Time” performance at 1999 Grammies).

Yes, evolution is a fallacy my friend, at least when it comes to pop music. After greats like Mariah, Whitney and, of course MJ, what do we get at current Grammies? We get people like Rhianna (although I do like her, and she couldn’t make this year’s ceremonies due to her loser ex-bf’s anger management problems), who lip sync a song someone else wrote and have no great moves to make such fakery worth it. In fact, Rhianna’s songs sample ones Michael Jackson wrote, way back in the day! (See “Please Don’t Stop the Music”). SAD.

Cookie cutter pop stars that can’t put on a show dominate mainstream melodies du jour. To be fair, there is some true talent out there – like Taylor Swift – but she only has great songwriting skills, not the whole singing/dancing/writing/awesomeness package. The only contemporary star to come close to MJ’s greatness is Justin Timberlake—and as much as I love him, his songs still have nothing on MJ.

I want to see talent. I want to see a performance so amazing that it makes me stand in awe of God’s ability to create such talent. I want that 80s/90s greatness back! I want music like MJ’s to replace superficial, manufactured songs currently congesting Top 40 airwaves. Perhaps listeners should demand more than tunes violating our ears with lyrics like “do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.” We are settling for raucous noise when we could have inspiring melodies. There’s got to be talent out there today – right?

I’m clinging to the hope that there is. Perhaps the passing of the King of Pop will wake the music industry up a bit as well, and we’ll start seeing performers with actual skill. I have a dream. We need to heal the world of pop, and make it a better place – for you, and for me, and the entire human race.

Just like a certain Jackson did with his music back in the day. R.I.P MJ.

Biking: Not for the Faint of Heart

2009-06-15T16:47:00.000-07:00

Franklin Avenue and I spent way too much time together today. It was quite the annoying adventure - thanks to my bike's inability to function. Leading up to this adventure was my decision to bike to Arabic class. Today marked the first day of my four hours a day, four days a week intensive battle with the language. I thought a little exercise in the morning would stimulate my mind to meet this looming challenge. So I dragged my hand-me-down cycle from the basement, strapped on my aqua blue helmet and began pedaling to my day's destiny via the Greenway.

About half way through my ride, however, I noticed how difficult this bike trip had become for me. It was taking ridiculously long, and I was sweating and breathing far too heavily than any casual biker should. "I must be ridiculously out of shape," I thought. "Biking to school is way too much work. This was a bad idea. Tomorrow, I'm buying a parking pass." A few meters later I was barely closer to my destination and even more frustrated with the difficulty of my task at hand. It was then I recalled the words of my roommate the night before. "You better check the tires before you go tomorrow morning," she said. "A lot of times they'll deflate over the winter."

I look down. Sure enough, the back tire was like a pancake when it hit the pavement. Dangit. I gave it a few more spins and decided to get off the bike before breaking it further. I walked my bike the remainder of the distance to school - and by sheer blessing was only 20 minutes late to my first day of class.

Class was a bit boring. If there's one part of Arabic I know - it's the alphabet. Or, the Alif Baa - as it's called in Arabic. You'd think that I would have used my time in a boring class to come up with ideas as to how I was going to get home. Especially since I had no cash and no phone. Yes, you would think. However, apparently I had better things to woolgather about, and thus strategies for getting home weren't pondered until the proverbial bell rang.

I don't think well in crisis situations. These are things I could have done. I could have gotten cash, hopped on a bus, strapping my bike up in front. I could have taken my bike to the bike shop across the street from. With all these great options before me, what do I decide to do? Walk my bike home. Yes, from the West Bank to Uptown. Dumb.

It took me about three blocks to realize Uptown was a lot further than I thought, and that bikes with flat tires don't exactly roll light-heartedly as they are pushed down the street. I locked my bike up at the nearest rack I could find - which happened to be on Franklin Avenue, and decided to try my luck on foot sans bicycle. I knew the distance was long, but it was a nice day, and at least I'd gotten rid of my dead weight.

You would think that after eight years of living in the city, I would know my way around Minneapolis. Let me just say that I was perturbingly surprised when six blocks after ditching my bike, I discovered I had been walking in the OPPOSITE direction of my intended destination; home. I managed to trudge down East Franklin for SIX blocks before discovering this mistake. How? Sweaty and mad, I paused to reflect upon my options. I had no phone, no cash, no bus pass. However, I did have my cash card - thank God. After walking a few blocks in the right direction. I decided there was no way in hell I was walking the million or so blocks back to my place. My galavant, green efforts had failed me. So I walked into the Holiday Station across the street, took out cash, bought some pretzels to get change and charged towards the nearest bus stop. I hate the number two bus, it's the slowest line in the world, I'm sure of it. Yet, it seemed a far better option than walking at that point. So I hopped on it and 25 minutes of Franklin Avenue travel later, I was a mere two blocks from home. I made it.

Things I have learned from today's "adventure," include: Always check your bike tires, think of your options before attempting your task, and, buy a summer parking pass.

My bike's still locked up to that rack on Franklin Avenue. I've already considered how to get that home though. I'm going to go get it right now and shove it into my car. Then, it's going straight to Re-Cycle across the street for a new tire. Not that I plan on using it tomorrow, but still - should the moment arise when I need it - I'd like to have its use as an option.

Jordanian Fame, Courtesy of the Jordan Times

2009-06-09T07:31:00.000-07:00

I didn't get the chance to mention that our journalistic envoy to the Middle East was famed in the Jordan Times on the second day of our visit. That's right, we made the Jordan Times - Amman's largest daily newspaper. The first day of our visit we made the paper as well, however, we actually got a picture the next day. Woohoo.
I can only read part of this headline - the part that says "American Journalists," but that's all I need to know really. We were featured in a story discussing our trip, specifically our meeting with the Prime Ministry's spokesperson - which is pictured in the paper. You can see the back of my curly head, second person on the left. I am famous.

I feel the strong urge to start singing "King of New York," from Newsies right now, but I feel that only about a 1/3 of my loyal readers (so... three people) will understand my reasons for reciting the song. So, I will refrain.
Well, that's all the exciting news I have at the moment. More info on Jordan will surely be posted in the days to come. Until then, I am back in the U.S. of A., safe and sound. I forgot to mention that I received a scholarship to study Arabic this summer at the U, so keep checking back for more thorough translations of this newspaper story. I may be able to read it by the end of the summer. Salaam!

Chopping Tabbouleh with Brazilian Soap Stars

2009-06-07T01:45:00.002-07:00

The thing I like most about traveling is the randomness of it all. You know, finding yourself in strange situations that lead you to inquire, “How is this my life?” Thursday night definitely qualified as one of travel’s strange incidences, as I found myself cooking dinner in the Middle East with Brazilian supermodels. I’m not even kidding.

After hiking through the seriously breathtaking hidden city of Petra, our group headed out to the Petra Kitchen for dinner. Petra Kitchen is a restaurant that gives you the chance to cook Middle Eastern cuisine, and subsequently enjoy the fruit of your culinary efforts. I made tabbouleh, a popular Middle Eastern salad that seems to be consumed at all Jordanian meals. Although it’s relatively tasty, I’m glad to be back in America and exchange it for Chipotle for a while….

Anyway, at the Petra Kitchen, you cook in groups, each group making a different part of the meal. Besides our group, one other group was scheduled to help out with dinner that night—and they were annoyingly late.

We waited for more than an hour after chopping and dicing our part, for the other group to show up. I kept myself busy by sampling Jordanian red wine, but was getting hungrier by the minute. Finally, the group showed up. They were equipped with cameras, lights and really good-looking people. One woman with the group came up to apologize for their lateness, and I began inquiring about their presence in Jordan. They were Brazilians; here to shoot a soap opera in Petra, and tonight they were filming a little “things to do in Jordan,” promo with the soap stars. Apparently, the three really good-looking people talking on camera were big stars in Brazil – actors and supermodels. To us however, they were simply really tardy dinner-mates. Eating dinner with supermodels makes a good story though, plus, I didn’t really mind their lateness because the restaurant gave us a free drink as an apology.

An additional plus is they interviewed one member of our group, and filmed the rest of us in the background. So, if you happen to be in Brazil and find yourself viewing some soap opera named “Viver la Vida (hmm…sounds close to a popular song I know…) with an actor named Thiago cooking up a mad lamb/rice storm; look for a few American faces in the background. From what I heard of the soap opera’s plot, it seems like we may be the most exciting part of the show.

The Promised Land

2009-06-03T10:58:00.000-07:00

Today I saw the Promised Land. And no, I’m not talking about Minneapolis, Minn., although that comes in a close second. I’m talking about the Biblical Promised Land — the one Moses led his people too but never actually got to enter himself. Mt. Nebo is located about a half-hour outside of Amman, Jordan. It’s the mountain from which God showed Moses the Promised Land, and where Moses subsequently died. We visited the mountain today and were able to see the breathtaking view of the Promised Land. Back in the day, the land was very green – the land of milk and honey says the Bible. Today however, it’s dried up quite a bit, but is still amazingly beautiful. Looking out atop Mt. Nebo, I could see the Dead Sea, specks of Jerusalem, and the ancient city of Jericho resting on the golden valley that stretched before me. It was amazing. There is an ancient church atop Mt. Nebo as well, which is currently undergoing renovation.

Mt. Nebo is located in Madaba, Jordan’s city of mosaics. There are beautiful mosaics found in the church located atop Mt. Nebo, and in a 6th Century church located at the bottom. The mosaic in St. George’s – the church below the mountain – dates back to the 500s and depicts an ancient map of the Holy Land. It’s crazy to think of how long these lands have been around. Even back in the 500s, the map shows the city of Gaza and Jerusalem, both still standing today (although sadly, we all know Gaza is not in such good shape). We get to learn so much cool stuff about the sites we see, and the lands we pass because the embassy hired a really good guide who has been traveling with us and explaining a lot of history and culture the entire time.

Right now I’m in our trusty van heading to Petra, where we’ll be staying for a couple of days. It’s so funny, I feel like I’m in one of those made-for-TV Jesus videos, or the Bible videos they used to show you in Sunday school. The land looks just like the scenes in those programs; the rocks, the fig trees, the olive trees, the deserts – not to mention the sheep and the camels roaming randomly throughout. The gas stations and coke signs everywhere don’t really fit in however, neither do the King Abdullah pictures that pop up randomly by the roadside. Oh well, close enough.

So like I said we’re heading to Petra. Petra is three hours away from Amman in the south of Jordan. If you haven’t heard of it, google it right now. It’s amazing. It’s an ancient city carved into the side of cliffs – and it was lost for more than a thousand years before being discovered in the 1800s. It’s probably Jordan’s biggest tourist attraction. I am pumped to see it. Today started the laid-back portion of our trip. No more meetings with important people. I’m really excited about that because even though the meetings are interested, I really don’t think I can handle anymore. This morning, before we left, we met with a Greek Orthodox priest to talk about interfaith initiatives in Jordan and Christianity. He heads an interfaith organization, and it was really encouraging to hear from him. People over here consider America to be a Christian nation – thus they believe that everyone in America is Christian. That is so far from the truth. So I asked him if American media or policies tainted Arabs perception of Christianity. I mean, Madonna dancing half naked in front of a crucifix could very easily give people the wrong idea. He got excited and said, “Yes! You Americans make it so hard for me! I have to tell people that’s not Christianity!” I laughed at his reaction, even though it’s somewhat sad. He went on to say that slowly however, people in the Arab world are beginning to realize not all Americans represent Christianity. Godspeed that process.

One more thing before I end another long post. Everyone over here is obsessed with Obama’s speech in Cairo June 4th. It’s a really big deal, and its impact will be huge – either in a negative or positive way— so watch the speech if you get a chance. It’s important to be in the know, America, more than ever, is not isolated. One thing I’ve realized during my brief visit to the Middle East is that what happens in this far away land impacts American communities more than we really know.

Day Two: Flutes, Lamb and Government Officials

2009-05-31T13:50:00.000-07:00

Today was packed. I’m exhausted. There’s no way I could capture everything I experienced/learned today in one post – but for my pleasure I’ll provide a summary.

Morning: Bringin’ it to the Prime Ministry
The day began with a 9:30 a.m. meeting at Jordan’s Prime Ministry with the country’s official government spokesperson. This was probably the most interesting meeting of the day. The spokesperson, Dr. Nabil Al Sharif gave us an overview of current issues facing Jordan today, and initiatives the country is currently prioritizing. We then had the opportunity to ask questions. A major focus of both our discussion was the Palestinian/Israeli peace plan. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to directly ask questions to a government spokesperson regarding Hamas and Gaza and the whole Palestinian plight in general. I’ve only thus far been able to read responses in the news. Anyway – too much info to talk more about that subject. We also discussed Palestinian and Iraqi refugees living in Jordan. Jordan’s been great about taking in refugees. I found a couple of things about this discussion interesting.

First, apparently Jordan does not call Iraqis “refugees,” because of the implication of that word. They are labeled “guests,” as they are expected to be returning somewhat soon. Second, Palestinian refugees here are given full citizenship. They are given Jordanian passports, access to the country’s health care benefits and public education. Additionally, there are not really Palestinian refugee “camps,” per say. Rather, the Palestinians live in particular settlements throughout the city. This is really unusual, particularly the fact that Palestinian refugees are given full citizenship. That never happens.

News: Amman Style
Enough about the PM, this is going to get too long. After the ministry we visited a local newspaper – Al Dustour. The assistant editor-in-chief discussed media in Jordan, and issues such as freedom of the press, etc… It was a great meeting, although I wish I could have asked more questions because I found some of their stances on things hypocritical. For instance, they said you know, they wouldn’t publish things like demeaning their prophet, or Christ – anything that would incite religious violence. However, I feel like I’ve seen plenty of things in the Arab press that seem less than loving and objective towards Jews. I don’t know though, I guess I’d need to talk to them more before making a judgment.

Lamb and More Lamb
From Al Dustour we went to lunch at another ridiculous restaurant. Our guide says, “Jordanians eat with their eyes.” He’s not kidding. The display of food here is eye candy. It’s beautiful. We had hummus and lamb and chicken and pitas and lots of stuff I forgot the name of. Yum. I think in the following week, I will eat more lamb than I have eaten, or will eat, in my entire life.

Roman Ruins and Dead Sea Scrolls
When we had stuffed ourselves yet again (I didn’t even mention the amazing breakfast), we piled back into our convenient van and drove up to the Citadel in Amman. The Citadel is an ancient Roman ruin overlooking a gorgeous view of Amman – a city made almost entirely of ivory limestone. Next to the Citadel was an archeology museum, which housed some of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Crazy.

Jet-lagged Diplomacy
By the afternoon, I was being seriously weighed down by jet lag. There was no time to rest though, for we had a meeting scheduled at the U.S. embassy here in Amman. We met with the U.S. Ambassador to Jordan Stephen Beecroft. Though he was really interesting, I had to fight to keep from rudely yawning mid-meetings. It had been a long day. You know, a typical day in my life, no big deal (yes, that was obviously sarcastic). The ambassador was the third person and final person we met with today - a good end to a series of unique meetings.

Obama, and Other Funny Tales:
Two particularly funny things happened today. At the Roman Citadel, some Arab visitors spotted us Americans roaming about and got really exicted. I believe they were Palestinians because they asked if I knew Abbas (Fatah’s president). When the spotted us, they came running up yelling, “Obama, Obama!” I gave them a fist-pump in the air while laughing. Then, they gathered around us and had us take a picture with them. Ha! The only one who wouldn’t was a woman with them and one of their sons – who at age eight was ridiculously embarrassed of his parents. His father, however, was ridiculously proud of him. He kept telling his son to come talk to us, while at the same time, telling us about his son. “My son, he is in American international school! Please talk to him so he can practice. His textbook was made in 2003, in California!” What? Ha. The man continued, “He gets good marks, (to his son), come over here!” I spoke to his son in English, “you get good grades?” I asked. Embarrassed he was like, “yeah….” And trekked forward with his head down. Poor guy. Hilarious dad.

Funny incident number two was receiving a free flute today after dinner. We went to this restaurant Kan Zaman, which means “Once Upon a Time,” for dinner, and went to some surrounding shops after. One of the men running the shops gave me a free wood flute because he said I “had the most beautiful smile.” I feel bad, he disappeared and I went to the bathroom and didn’t thank him. Oh well, at least I have a free wooden flute from Amman… I’ve always wanted one of those. Ha. It was a nice gesture.

Oh, another thing – I’ve never seen so many pictures of a leader in my life. The people here love their king. There are pictures of him up everywhere and the government installs pretty much none of them. Private citizens pay to put King Abdullah on billboards. Funny.

The End. Finally
Welp, it may be 4:00 p.m. in MN, but it’s 11:00 p.m. here and tomorrow is another jam-packed today. Sleep is intensely calling my name. Ciao.

Day One: Arab Luxury

2009-05-31T08:16:00.001-07:00

I may have taken a year of Arabic, but as I arrive in Jordan, one thing is now clear: I do not know a lick of that language. I seriously cannot understand an Arabic word out of people’s mouths here and it’s super disappointing. I can read like, three or four written words on the signs, but other than that I may as well be illiterate. A year of flashcards for nothing!!! Thankfully, everyone speaks English here – for the most part – and most signs are written in Arabic and English. The proliferation of English in the world is both a privilege and a handicap, in my opinion anyway. While it’s nice to be able to get around on one language globally, it also prevents native English speakers from ever really learning another language. Consequently, most Americans are hopelessly monolingual – while our friends in other nations have two, three languages under their belts.

Anyway, after waking up and eating breakfast on the flight to Amman, we touched down in the country, and walked outside to see that it was evening. That was a strange time-lapse experience. Even though I’ve only been up for like, five hours, I’m still exhausted. So far, we are getting the royal treatment. I feel extrememly unqualified to be here. You should see the hotel room I’m writing in right now. I get an entire room to my self at the Royal Jordanian Hotel – one of the nicest hotels I’ve ever stayed at, hands down. I was fairly taken aback by the amount of security we had to go through upon arriving at the hotel; metal detectors, baggage scan, just like an airport. I thought it was pretty strange – considering Amman’s not even that dangerous. I mean, can you imagine having to go through a metal detector before entering a U.S. Hilton? No.

As I swung through my hotel’s bold glass doors, I caught a glimpse of the Hyatt looming next door. The Hyatt triggered my memory, and suddenly, the security made sense. Back in 2005, terrorists attacked three hotels here in Jordan – including the Hyatt across the street. Around 50 (I think) people were killed. The Jordanians called the incident “their Sept. 11.” Undoubtedly, intense security procedures at Amman hotels are a direct response to the 2005 bombings; the hoteliers here aren’t just baselessly paranoid. I’m happy their security procedures are preventing another such attack from taking place while I’m in the country. Terrorists: don’t mess with me.

After I freshened up in my (awesome) hotel room, we went down to eat at this ridiculous buffet. Lots of stuff I had never seen before – most of it really good. I only choked once after consuming this beef-like food and mentioning that it was good. “What is this?” I asked, “Oh,” replied one of trip-mates, “that’s liver or kidney I believe.” All of a sudden, it did not taste so good anymore. I pushed it aside and went for the tiramisu.

Ok, time for bed on day one, or two, I don’t know my timing is messed. I gotta get up early to go meet Jordan’s foreign minister at its prime ministry five minutes down the road. Until later, masalaama.

Arabian Nights

2009-05-27T09:34:00.000-07:00

I leave for Jordan in two days. I am SO excited you have no idea. I'm going to Jordan on this "Sixty Years of Friendship Press Trip" sponsored by the Jordanian embassy here in the U.S. It's kind of like a public relations stint; the embassy wants U.S. journalists writing about Jordan so Americans don't continue to think it's full of Jihadist bombers, etc... There are ten of us going - six are undergrad kids - but the other four are adults so that's good. We are totally getting the royal tour - the itinerary for the trip is amazing! I will share a few highlights from the trip, out of my own personal excitement:

Day 2: 10:00 AM Meeting with Government Spokesperson

11:30 AM Meeting with Editorial Board with Ad Dustour Newspaper

Afternoon Tour of the city of Amman, with a trip to the Citadel and the Archeology Museum, which houses some of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Dinner will be at Kan Zaman restaurant perched on a hilltop in the outskirts of Amman. Be entertained by talented musicians and singers and enjoy the best “hubbly-bubbly” water pipes in the city! After dinner, visit the artisans at work on the grounds of the restaurant. Painters, silversmith, wood carvers, carpet weavers, sand bottle makers and potters are all there to show off their craft to you.

Day 6: Mount Nebo, Where Moses Saw the Promised Land. Sixty years of excavation on the hilltop of Mount Nebo, where Moses viewed the Promised Land and is said to be buried, revealed a basilica church and one of the most magnificent mosaic floors in the world. From the platform in front of the church, you will have an inspiring, breath-taking view across the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea to the rooftops of Jerusalem and Bethlehem. You will see what Moses saw and what Pope John Paul II saw most recently: The Promised Land!

Day 7: Petra. This is the day that you will never forget. As you thread your way between the cliff walls that soar to 650 feet on your way through the narrow gorge to the Treasury, you will pass inscriptions in ancient languages and rock-cut chambers carved into the whorls of sandstone. Indiana Jones in “The Last Crusade” charged through this desert gorge to the Treasury in search of the Holy Grail. Jordan abounds in archeological riches, but few sites in the world can rival the Nabataean city of Petra, carved out of these rose-red rock cliffs!

And this is just some of my itinerary. Plus the biggest bonus: they pay for everything (well, minus alcohol - but that's to be expected:). I can't even think about it because I have two more days before I get to go. I should start packing. I will do that now - time to get ready for some Arabian nights...

Harper is Famous

2009-05-26T10:33:00.000-07:00

I was already extremely impressed when my friend Harper showed me the e-mail correspondence taking place between her and Nick Kristhof - the awesomest New York Times columnist ever. I don't even care that awesomest is not a word. So I kind of flipped out when she alerted me to the cover of his new book - which will be hitting shelves everywhere in September. Take a peek:
Yep. She's on the cover. Third row, second from the left. The only white girl who made the cover:). I have a famous friend. This is very exciting. I don't know a lot of famous people. Harper I expect you to bring me to your first red-carpet event. Your boyfriend is in Congo he probably won't be able to make it. I will be a great replacement.

If you want a closer look at the book search for it on Amazon. Ok that's all for now. Peace.

Back At It!

2009-05-22T13:51:00.000-07:00

Ah. I am thoroughly enjoying the sweet ease of summer. Everyday this week, I have awoken at 11:00 a.m. and thought, "What shall I do today? The world is my oyster." Or, something along those lines.

My answer to this mid-morning question differed a bit each day. Yesterday, I began thoroughly cleaning my room (although it still doesn't look great), and took a nice long run that left me with unbelievably sore legs. Then I drank wine on the porch with friends. Today, I took a good non-academic book and headed over to Spyhouse to read and drink iced lattes in the sun. Divine I tell you, divine.

Also today I've dabbled in a new business that may flourish this summer:). Selling old books on ebay. Ha. I've listed like ten books for $3 hoping to get someone who, for some odd reason, wants to read them. I am thinking of naming my store, "Great Books." Original, no? Really, it should be named "Sucky Books I Don't Want to Read," because I'm keeping all the good books. No one has bought my books yet and it's been an hour. This is not looking good. Anyone want to read, "Listening In, a History of Radio?" Come on, it's a goodie. Only three bucks plus shipping!

Random note, but today at SpyHouse, the lady next to me was giving her friend instructions on how to see the colours of auras. Weird. Ok I'm going to scavenge the web looking for regional estate sales - I figure I can find some more good stuff there to sell on ebay. I am quite the electronic enterpreneur.

Crazy

2009-05-13T20:25:00.000-07:00

How am I twenty-six? It seems so surreal.

Where does time go? This is so weird. 25 was so.... ideal.

Perhaps though, 26 will be too.

Here's to Good Friends Who Get You Through Catatonic States

2009-05-04T15:33:00.000-07:00

I am lucky to have a really great roommate to get me through/put up with me in this brief dysfunctional time of my life. Living with me at the moment, is probably comparable to being a caregiver at one of those group homes. I am super out of it and unusually emotional. This may or may not be due to the impossible amount of work that must get done by the end of this week. I am going to go with it may.

So, my roommate Amy has done a really good job taking care of me and making sure I don’t you know, drop a few developmental levels. During the past few days, I've either neglected the arduous task of eating, or have subsisted on the animal crackers currently next to me in a bucket on the floor. Last night, I had what one could call a slight emotional breakdown—catalyzed by the 9:00 hour approaching on the clock of doom, and the realization I was nowhere near done with my paper. It would be another all-nighter. And after that, I would still have two more papers to go. The tears began to flow.

Feeling bad for me in such a helpless state, and knowing I would probably not think of eating, Amy made me breakfast the next morning. Yeah! I actually didn’t eat it until 4:00 p.m. today because I was busy (yes after it’d been sitting out all day), but it served the purpose of dinner. Right now, I am so annoyed with hunger. I don’t have time or money to eat. It really bothers me that we are physically required to eat. It is a pain in the you-know-what to have to eat during times like these.

Anyway, back to my roommate. So then, after providing me with sustenance, and knowing I would most likely be finishing my paper up until the last second like usual, she offered to drive me to school. Every minute counts my friends, every minute counts. It was awesome. I think I got like, five more accurate footnotes in because of the ride. As I was leaving, she also saved me from going catatonic in frustration of my ever-elusive keys. I could not find them. Again. I shouted out the window, "I can't find my stupid keys." She's like,“there in the bathroom.” I went into the bathroom, and what do you know, there they were. Peacefully lying on the counter after I had violently trashed my room in a desperate attempt to uncover them. I think the ability to know where your keys are is a spiritual gift. That would be a great spiritual gift to have. Even better than um, prophesying.

So anyway, props to Amy for keeping me alive during the volatile life stage I am currently undergoing. Hopefully, it will be over by Friday. So it’s like 5:50, and I still haven’t slept a wink since I awoke Sunday at 11:30 p.m. No time. I kind of want to make it rain one giant snowstorm with all my stupid homework and readings I have to do right now. Plus, I think I am seriously coming down with carpel tunnel from typing in an extremely ergonomically incorrect position for about…. hmmm…. 18 hours straight. Not even kidding. Bllaahhhh. Oh well, I guess I'll raise my Diet Coke to another 24 hours of carpel tunnel, exhaustion and avoidant behaviors. It's the little things that make life worth living:).

Our President the Nike Model

2009-04-29T11:14:00.000-07:00

Looking at the BBC homepa ge today, it seems that Obama signed a killer modeling deal with Nike, or Adidas or Puma. I mean, look at him, he's working hardcore amidst the snowfall in a David Beckham-Esq post. Perhaps this is just the start of Obama's modeling career. Or maybe he's thinking of using Nike's slogan to guide his leadership style. Send more troops to Afghanistan? Just do it. Deal out trillions? Just do it. Give starving grad students a year supply of Chipotle gift certificates? Just do it. Sweet!

Anyway, he totally has the athletic model pose down. Way to go. Next stop: the runways of Paris! Ooo la la.

I know I Said Three Weeks But....

2009-04-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

I know I said three weeks, but I just have to briefly relay what my grandmother said this morning. I was eating lunch with my family after my cousin's, daughter's baptism (I'm her Godmother, my first time in such an important position). So my grandma's wearing this gorgeous necklace and she's like, "Colleen, do you like my necklace?" I'm like, "yeaahh, it's beautiful, where did you get it??"

Grandma: "It's vintage, it's from the 1940s. You know why I never wear it?"

Me: "No..."

Grandma: "It's because I got it from the other guy. The one that I was seeing when I got engaged to your grandfather."

Me: "Hahahaha, so you figure 13 years after Grandpa died you could now wear it?"

Grandma: (Shrugs). "I suppose."

That's right. My grandmother was seeing someone else when she got engaged to my grandpa. Apparently he was in Germany, and had been for awhile, so, um, I guess stuff changes?? Ha. Things were different back then. The poor fella got a killer break-up note I'm sure. Sorry, we have to break up, I'm engaged to another man."

That is one part of my grandmother's history I will definitely not repeat:) You have to be pretty smooth to get away with that - and I'm kind of the opposite of anything 'smooth.'

Three Weeks

2009-04-20T13:46:00.000-07:00

Note to my faithful blog followers: There will most likely be a lack of posts for the next three weeks. I will be in survival mode as I desperately try to compile three research papers before the end of the semester. Don't worry however - this summer, I have absolutely nothing to do - so expect a flurry of blog posts.

Ok that is all for now. Back to coding CNN articles.

Liberian Prez Part II

2009-04-15T20:08:00.000-07:00

OK I was reprimanded for abruptly halting my last post – so let me continue on....

Back to the Liberian President. As I mentioned, she was recently elected after Liberia emerged from a 14-year civil war. As one may expect, Liberia’s war was pretty intense. Upon its demise, the war left a seriously corrupt government and pervasive poverty in its wake. Liberia was in rough shape.

In 2005, the country held its first democratic election – part of its attempt to pick itself up and start over. Johnson-Sirleif was elected, and since then, Liberia’s economic and social situation has dramatically improved. Its paid more than half its national debt, has increased its government revenue by more than $280 million dollars (enabling a pay raise for federal workers), installed three new community colleges outside of its capital, implemented a scholarship program for young girls (of which 3,000 have received scholarships to attend school already), and set an unprecedented standard for freedom of the press in Africa. Additionally, Transparency International recently recognized Liberia’s significant progress in in fighting corruption within its government. Obviously, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and there is still a long way to go, but as the Dean of Minnesota’s Humphrey Insitute of Public Affairs stated, Liberia’s progress is considered “miraculous.”

When President Johnson-Sirlief was introduced, her introducer (I think I just made that word up) gave a rundown of her experience. Her resume is quite impressive, and includes stints such as Minister of Finance for Liberia, Vice President of the Africa Regional Office of Citibank, Director of UN Development Programme Regional Bureau for Africa and of course, President of Liberia. Undoubtedly, President Johnson-Sirleif’s experience has contributed to her ability to give her country hope. This makes sense. Consequently, this leads me to conclude that all high-ranking government leaders should have the kind of leadership and international experience Sirleif-Johnson had when she took office. I mean, I know I’m drawing assumptive conclusions – but look at Democratic Republic of Congo. The country’s in bad shape due to an overwhelming amount of oppressive historical factors. However, I wonder if the DRC would be in better shape if its president, Joseph Kabila, had more education than a supposed degree from some mysterious online university, and more leadership experience than simply being the son of a former president.

Ahhh… anyway, those are my long-winded thoughts on Friday’s event. It is really encouraging to see that things can change – esp. in a continent way too many think is beyond hope (it’s not!). This means that it’s possible my intelligence-level will change (for the better) tomorrow and I’ll be able to successfully finish this semester. Yeah! I love change. Yes we can.

Liberian President Comes to Town

2009-04-14T11:56:00.001-07:00

Friday, I found myself embedded in a crowd of about 3,000 people, listening to the majority robustly sing the Liberian national anthem. For a moment, I had one of those “how did I get here” moments – I can’t say I experience the Liberian national anthem everyday.

The moment’s foreignness dissolved as I gazed upon the familiar stage of Northrup Auditorium - a reminder I was close to home. It was the woman I was there to see, however, who had traveled far from home to speak that day. Ellen Johnson Surleif is the president of Liberia – a small African country of about 3.5 million that has just emerged from 14 years of civil war.

Undoubtedly, the 25,000 Liberian refugees currently living here inspired her visit to Minneapolis. Liberian refugees arrived in Minnesota beginning in the 80s, when civil war erupted in their country. Currently, controversy is boiling among the Liberian community for since the civil war has ended, they are facing deportation back to Liberia, despite the fact that many have built there lives here for the past 20-something years.

Ok this post to be continued as I have to finish something else at the moment. Check back later...

I Have Secrets

2009-04-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

It's April Fool's Day. Perhaps all the lies being told today are getting to me, for I'm in a tell-all mood. I have a few secrets that have been weighing me down lately, and I feel the odd need to confess them to my blogging community. So, let us begin.

Some Secrets
1) Sometimes, I don't get my homework done, or get enough sleep, because I stay up really late looking at fashion blogs or shopping online. I can't help it, it's a guilty, stress-relieving pleasure that results in delayed stress when I am sleepless and my homework's incomplete the next day.

2) I don't really like skiing. I admit, I have told many guys that I kind of like skiing, because I used to do it when I was younger a lot. I've realized however, that I am lying to them. I don't like skiing. I get cold, and going downhill at high speeds stresses me out hardcore. I say I like it because I like to sound adventerous. I'm done with that - I'm telling the truth. I don't really like skiing. Unless, it's in the Mtns of Colorado, and even then... However, I would like to try snowboarding at some point.

3) On that note, I'm not crazy fantastic about the outdoors for long periods of time. And by long periods of time I mean weeks. I like it for a few days. But then I want to shower. I know, it's natural beauty. I love natural beauty, but only for so long and only without bugs. I love adventures, but if outdoor adventures aren't adventurous enough --- count me out. I'll stay inside where there are toilets and 99 percent less mosquitoes.

4) At the airport, I've stopped bothering to put my liquids in a plastic bag. Why? Because I forgot once and they totally didn't say anything. So now, I forgo the little baggie. I take that back, the last time I put my 4 oz bottle of lotion in my bag and they found it. Then, they proceeded to say - next time, put that in a plastic bag. Ok. Will do. Thanks...

5) I may have been a public relations major, but I still am helplessly victimized by mascara ads and any ad for anti-wrinkle cream. I totally fall for them, and not rationally. Each time I see those ads, I understand their promised benefits won't provide. Yet, I am still entranced by the idea that their product could make my lashes look 50 times longer and forever prevent wrinkles. I've adapted a steady pattern when it comes to viewing awesome mascara ads. It goes like this: Become amazed at mascara, go out and buy it, discover it's not any different than the last and experience disappointment. Unless, of course, it's Lancome's Definicils. The best I've discovered so far. No one even paid me to say that.

6) I'm tired at the moment. But don't worry, I have more secrets. I will save them for another perfect spring day like today (which, will be tomorrow, undoubtedly. I love MN weather...).

7) Oh I almost forgot! Secret seven is that I am not really in a relationship despite what facebook says. The end.

Saving Lives - Glamorously.

2009-03-29T08:23:00.001-07:00

Last night I went to this charity fundraiser at Seven downtown. Seven is one of the swankiest spots in the Twin Cities. It’s a side of Minneapolis I barely knew existed. I love Minneapolis because of its unpretentiousness. At Seven however, pretentious is the soup du jour, or rather, soup toujours. People were dressed up. And that’s an understatement. Holy crap did I feel weird, and I was even dressed up. I mean my whole outfit did only cost $25 (shoes included!), but my shirt was originally $60 people! That has to count for something! Ha.

I felt particularly weird last night because we were there for this clean water fundraiser. (One lesson learned: Stay away from bottled water.) We watched a documentary and then went to a reception – that included a professional hula-hooper. Sweetness. Additionally, I sat in front of Vita.mn's "hottest female in the Twin Cities." Ha. I recognized her from a few issues back - mainly because we talked about that particular issue all day at J-School.

It’s just weird to get all dressed up and go to this fancy place to watch and learn about people suffering in the third world. I felt weird. However, I’m not sure it’s necessarily a bad thing. I mean, these kind of fundraisers raise awareness of issues among groups that would otherwise (in my prediction) remain oblivious. Plus, it generates money for causes in need. So even though I felt like a poser, I probably shouldn’t judge. All in all it was an okay time. There was free wine and free entertainment. I partook all for the sake of the children. Who knew saving lives could be so glamorous…. and, well, fun?

French Hostages, Fries & Mussels

2009-03-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

Tired of low wages and insufficient benefits? Don't go on strike. Strikes are for wussies, at least in France. French laborers have no patience for peaceful picketing when times get tight - instead, they just take their executives hostage. Looks like American execs won't be begging for transfers across the pond anytime soon, if they know what's best.

According to the Associated Press, "A French 3M executive was being held hostage for the second day at a plant in Pithiviers, south of Paris, as workers protested layoffs. The situation was calm, however, with labor talks taking place there Wednesday.

I wouldn't think kidnapping would be the best career move to make, but hey, what do I know. Apparently, the workers are treating their hostage fairly well. Maybe they are buttering him up to grant promotions upon release.

AP continued, "Detained 3M manager Luc Rousselet told an AP reporter "Everything's fine" and workers planned to bring him mussels and French fries for dinner." Entire story here.

Oh good. I'm glad they are bringing him mussels and French fries for dinner. Thanks for including that AP. Apparently the French treat their hostages well. They eat better than I... and for free!

Looks like I have a new goal in life. Sweet. Maybe more Amerian execs will be asking for Euro transfers after all...

Inspiration (or lack thereof)

2009-03-23T11:53:00.000-07:00

So I am totally losing my motivation and passion for school/making a difference at the moment. I know, it is sad. I am attempting to write this research proposal and I am just thinking, why does this project matter in any way, shape or form?? My research proposal is to look at the Congo Reform Association of the early 1900s and determine how it shaped collective consciousness and reform action at the time. I have to do a research project examining media in history. So I chose this topic.

I kind of feel like looking at it is meaningless though. Ugh. I need inspiration. I feel so.... uninspired lately. That is a GREAT word to describe my plight. Yes, in school, I feel terrifically UNINSPIRED. This is not good. Just now, I decided to go to changemakers.org in hopes that the stories on there would inspire me some. Boy was I disappointed. Take a look.

Ha ha. Not a good sign!! Talk about uninspiring. My site for inspiration has been closed down!

Oh well, looks like I'll have to look somewhere else. Right now I am going to try eating my Noodles and Company, because that's the only task on today's agenda that seems in any way exciting. Hope this post doesn't leave you, well, uninspired.... :)

Live from Atlanta: The Callahan's Dominate Trivia

2009-03-18T19:20:00.000-07:00

Move over auto parts, the Callahan Family now has a new claim to fame: Trivia. That's right, tonight, the Callahan Family dominated bar trivia at the Blue Moon in Atlanta. We won second place - but it was a close fight to the finish. We lost to the first-place team in an overtime tie-breaker, with the question: "According to the Illinois Transportation Department, Lakeshore Drive is how many miles long?" Please! We said 52, the other team said 48. The answer? 15.2. We were both off, but alas, we were more off.

Now, when I say the Callahan Family won second place at trivia, what I really mean is my dad, the waiter and the table next to us won second place at trivia. Granted, I did contribute to like, one question, but only in part (The question was: what actor was nominated for an oscar for best actor for playing an actor previously nominated for best actor. My dad says "oh! The guy from Ironman played Charlie Chaplin!" I chimed in "Robert Downey Jr.!" Score). Yep, my dad is pretty much the trivia king. I think that I will be good at trivia once they stop aiming everuy trivia question at the 40-and-over crowd. My mom... she's not so good. Her contribution to our second place win was (illegally!) calling her friends to find answers. I guess they make a good match - the brain and the socialite, together forever.

As mentioned, another contributor to our silver medal was our waiter. The question asked what rapper was in Above the Rim and Poetic Justice. Of course, we had no idea, so my mom shouts to the waiter "Do you know the answer!?" He kind of stares for a second and is like, "Tupac." My mom asks, "Are you sure?" He gives a polite "are-you-kidding-me" look and nods, "yeah, I'm sure." Ha. He probably thought we were ridiculous - a white family from the north asking him who was in Poetic Justice. To make matters worse, my mom was like "Who's Tupac Shaaaacckeerr?" Uh.... embarassing!

Anyway, the waiter's insight, my mom's cheating, my dad's knowledge and my pop-culture awareness won us a $25 gift certificate to the Blue Moon pizzaria tonight. Too bad my dad is the only one with any use for that. Well, I suppose possibly my mom too - since his company flies her down here all the time (spoiled!). I am going to abruptly end this blog post now, because my sister is tempting me with what sounds like a hilarious youtube video. Ma Saalama!

Love & Relationships Part I

2009-03-15T21:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I stumbled out of bed into a living room full of curling irons, mimosas, make-up and excitement. It was wedding day on Girard Avenue, and the bride and bridal party were up bright and early organizing and beautifying in preparation for the afternoon/evening festivities.

Everything went amazingly. It was SO FUN. I wish I were still at the reception now. It was a night I never wanted to end.

Alas, like all good things, the night did end. Consequently, I am no longer at the reception, but in a living room devoid of curling irons and cinnamon roles, and Anna no longer lives upstairs but in Fargo. This blunt reality has inspired me to stop rambling about wedding bliss and instead express my relational frustrations. Hey, it's my blog and I can say what I want to.

So here I go.

I don't understand how people actually find each other. How does it happen? There are like, a million, hurdles that have to be overcome for two people to fall in love and get married. Here is a short list:

- First, you have to find someone they actually like/love

- Then, that person has to like you back

- Then, someone has to 'make a move' so to speak

- From here, and actual relationship can ensue, if you actually have

- the same values, and

- it's the right time, and

- the desire for the same things out of life

- are in the same place

- good communication skills

- YADA YADA

- Finally, you can get married. Whew.

See. There are a lot of difficult steps in this dating/marriage process. I gave up dating about.... uh, two years ago now because I can't handle any more relationships ending at step one, two or three. Ok I didn't really give up dating, I just haven't dated. Same difference. It is frustrating, and disappointing.

I guess my frustration and disappointment isn't all that bad though, for it's made me realize that love - real love that actually works - really is a miracle. I am not trying to be cheesy, but it's true. Love has to be a miracle, because there is just so much standing in its way. It doesn't really flow with the whole 'survival of the fittest' theory. Love should have died out with Lucy (oldest human-type found in Africa) if that were the case. But it didn't, because some people still get married, and have good marriages.

I'm definitely happy right now and far from desperate, but who knows, maybe someday, I'll actually be in one of those relationships that are good for you and work out. Ha. Well, anything is possible - I've been to too many weddings lately to not believe in miracles.

Pop Culture Pluses

2009-03-10T12:45:00.000-07:00

Today is a great day in my dimension of pop culture for two reasons:

1) Kelly Clarkson's new album was released. Yeah!! Although I appreciated the effort behind her 2007 attempt to enter into the world of rock with My December, the actual results weren't that great. I missed the pop Kelly of 2005's Breakaway. Alas, in 2009, she is back. Score.

2) Vitamin Water 10. Wandering through the little market at school today, I noticed a new product next to the Vitamin Water. At first, I thought perhaps some generic brand was trying to oust the original from its glory. Boy was I wrong. Curious, I slid up to the cooler to discover what exactly, this new product was. "Vitamin Water 10. Ten Calories, no artificial sweeteners. Yes, really."

What!!! This is great news. I checked the labels, and indeed, it is all natural. I would explain the ingredients, but I am way too tired to function at the moment so it will have to wait. ciao.

The Economics of English

2009-03-06T09:31:00.000-08:00

English is a really random language. I mean, as native speaker, I rarely think of its nonsensical nuances. Throughout these past few months however, friends who aren’t native speakers and my brutal battles with Arabic have brought English’s laundry list of haphazard discrepancies to my attention.

For example, think of the sound “ough,” which is embedded within a variety of words. The “ough” completes words such as “rough,” “cough,” “dough,” and “through.” Yes, the endings of each of these words look exactly the same. So why, on earth, is the “ough” in each word symbolize completely different pronunciations?? The words don’t sound the same!! It’s weird, and took me 24 years to notice!

I believe I’ve found the answer, thanks to a brilliant book called “Imagined Communities,” by Benedict Anderson. So apparently back in medieval Europe there wasn’t the standard German and French and English that we know today. Rather, Europe’s communities all spoke different dialects of each of these languages – dialects so different inter-village communication was severely limited. It was not until the invention of the printing press that these dialects began to standardize. Though the printing press played a huge role in this standardization, its actually captilalism we have to thank for establishing the English, German and French we know today.

You see when the printing press gained steam in Europe, the capitalists minds began to brew. They quickly realized that to maximize profits through the press, they had to maximize its reach. Consequently, printers began piecing together all the different dialects of English (or French, etc…) and compiling them into one standard language that everyone in the region could somewhat understand. And wahla! Standard English was born. Obviously, the printing press and capitalism combined went on to stimulate revolutions in Europe, leading to the rise of democracy in the West.

It’s interesting the impact capitalism had on change. Moveable type was actually first invented in China – as much as 500 years prior to its invention in Europe. Most people, however don’t realize this, as the invention had little impact on Chinese society. Why is this? Take a wild guess. Yep, the absence of capitalism, apparently, it proved rather vital to stimulating social change.

Anyway, I’m not trying to promote any agenda here – I just thought this information was quite interesting. Personally, I am just glad that Arabic is not made up of a bunch of random sounds. It’s hard enough to learn even with its phonetic logic. So to anyone learning English as a second language – props to you – the language doesn’t really make a lot of sense.

Everything's Amazing, and Nobody's Happy

2009-03-01T23:19:00.000-08:00

This is a great video. Hilarious - and relatively true. Well, if you consider "today's generation" as all of modern day America, and not just Gen Y. No more dissing Gen Y. We rock. Many of us want to change things for the better. As opposed to wanting things to change for the better. There's a difference. Anyway, watch the video. Thanks CB for the pointer.

Not One of Life's Little Joys

2009-02-23T21:31:00.001-08:00

Writing a fellowship applications and/or statement of intent is not one of life’s little joys. In fact, it is quite possibly one of life’s little terrors. I simply detest, yes I said detest, writing these things. It is hard. It requires the ability to articulate clearly my goals – professionally and academically. I do not have this ability. So far, I can only see like…five days into the future. So the rest, I have to make up based upon vague understandings of my dreams.

This takes a lot of mental energy, articulating vague, made-up intents. That is why I have been putting this off for weeks. I wrote some half-hearted paragraphs this weekend. As I look at it now however, half-hearted doesn’t look to good on paper. So I have been sitting here for like four hours now, trying to write and organize this thing and it’s far from done. Bleh.

Good thing my roommates came home and equipped me with brownies and white wine left over from the dinner they went to – yes, the one I missed because of this application. The brownies, white wine, my trusty Mac and Paramore are keeping me company and giving me the necessary stamina to persevere in this situation.

Looking on the bright, blue, sunny side however, perhaps I will finish this within the next few hours, turn it in and wow the application committee. If that happens, then all this pain would have been ultimately worthwhile. This dream has no chance transforming into reality while I am writing this nonsense though.

So on that note, back to work.

Garbage is Magic

2009-02-21T08:39:00.000-08:00

Once, when I was little, I saw David Copperfield make an entire train disappear on T.V. He didn't even use any fancy digital tricks. It was pretty crazy.

Like the disappearing train, the disposal of garbage has always seemed like magic to me. I mean, I throw away an endless stream of napkins and broken stuff, put it at the end of the driveway on Thursdays and.... kazaam! It disappears that day. Gone, into the magic land of Puff the Dragon. I mean, yeah, I heard about areas like landfills and whatever in elementary school - but who has actually ever seen a landfill?? That's what I thought.

In my ripe old age of 25, rational has begun challenging my belief in "magic," and the land of Puff the Dragon. So I decided to look up what exactly, happens to my garbage. Thanks to the City of Minneapolis website, I learned that our garbage doesn't actually go into a landfill. Apparently Hennepin County garbage goes to the Hennepin Energy Resource Facility. Description as follows:

Located in downtown Minneapolis, the HERC facility uses mass burn technology to convert 365,000 tons of garbage a year into electricity that is sold to Xcel Energy, Inc.

Hmmm... interesting. Magic is real after all!!! Well, besides the toxic gases released by this burning. Perhaps the repercussions are more positive than those of a landfill however. Plus, Minneapolis does not have a cloud of fog that continues to linger over the city like Phoenix. Yuck.

You know what's definitely not magic though, electronics recycling. Most of the electronic waste we "recycle" magically disappears from the U.S. and magically reappears in a mysterious land called "Asia." There, poor citizens make a living off of the valuable parts of the waste, and the rest... ends up seriously polluting the land and sickening the people. More good news on Wired Magazine's blog.

Ok, well that is enough on the magic of garbage for now. There are many other magic things in our world that I will discuss at a later time. Perhaps the most magical among this list is the Internet. Oh oh that's magic.

Having a baby won't save a troubled marriage, research finds

2009-02-17T21:59:00.000-08:00

Wow. This news, found yesterday in the Chicago Tribune, is utterly shocking. I ALWAYS thought that throwing a baby into a troubled marriage would heal a marriage better than love potion #9 and counseling from Dr. Phil combined. Turns out I am wrong.

Dang! Good thing I learned that before having a baby to fix marital problems that may or may not arise in my future. I am so thankful that researchers at Berkeley put in the time, effort and money to conduct a study that has inhibited my potential future mistake. I mean, the results were so... unpredictable and surprising. Who would think that the continuous cries, sleepless nights, decrease in discretionary income and elimination of a social life WOULDN'T fix a marriage.

Please. It was my hope that society was beyond such a research study as this. Babies are amazing and all, but obviously, if a couple is looking for a fix - they might just be better off trying cocaine. (OK DISCLAIMER: I was joking please don't do cocaine. Pray. That is a much better solution.)

Best Ecards This Side of the Moon

2009-02-15T11:26:00.000-08:00

This is the best Someecard EVER. Well, one of the best. Another good one was "Sorry you're an atheist and have no one to thank on Fridays."

Another good ecard would be "Thanks for letting me know of your grandfather's death by inappropriately posting a picture of his open casket on your facebook profile."

Any other suggestions? I love Someecards.

Al Jazeera - A Perfect Fit in Toledo

2009-02-12T09:43:00.000-08:00

So for school I am attempting to research some specific content on Al Jazeera - the Middle East's largest news network based in Qatar. Al Jazeera's popularity is unprecedented. Launched in 1996, the network currently reaches an estimated 40 - 50 million viewers worldwide. It's popularity is undoubtedly due to the network's promise to deliver news from a non-Western perspective, and uninfluenced by government propaganda. Al Jazeera has proven the latter promise true, as it has already angered several Middle Eastern governments with its content.

Recently the network branched out to English-speaking audiences and launched Al Jazeera English, a station headquartered in Washington, D.C. Although the English-language station is hugely popular in Britain and other countries, it has been, well in some ways, censored here in America. See, the station is a bit controversial. Western governments accuse it of delivering terrorist propaganda since it allows announcements from Osama Bin Laden and other threatening figures to air in its newscasts. However, the station also carries legitimate, important news stories from a perspective Americans (in my opinion) should see. For instance, Al Jazeera is the only network Israel has allowed to broadcast from Gaza during the current crisis. That's just one example.

Pros and cons aside, I'm not sure I can make a judgement on Al Jazeera's purpose quite yet. In fact, the above information detracts from the original point of this post - which I have yet to make (I got a little carried away above, apologies). So here we go. Try number two to get to the point.

As I mentioned, Al Jazeera has been somewhat censored in the U.S. Most cable companies have chosen not to pick it up, due to its controversial nature. However, there are three U.S. cities that the station does broadcast in. Obviously, one is Washington D.C. So what do you think the others are?? New York? L.A. perhaps?? Wrong. One is Burlington, Vermont (never heard of it) and the other is um, TOLEDO, OHIO.

What??? Toledo, Ohio? Are you serious? That is the most random city ever. I mean, Vermont is a fairly wealthy, educated state so I can see its potential, but Toledo? I thought that was an industrial town. I guess I just don't see it as a fruitful market for Arab media. People in Ohio would probably confuse "salaama" for "salami."

But hey, what do I know. Toledo seems to be a little treasure in a jar of clay. Apparently they have a hot dog bun museum as well. I drove through the town on my way back from D.C. last month, but all I could see were smokestacks coughing their contents into a gray sky. Perhaps the smokestacks were hiding the variegeted true nature of the city.

So that was my point. If you want to watch Al Jazeera English you can look it up online, or, take a road trip to Toledo, Ohio. I would choose the latter. I mean, who knows what else you will find within its boundries. Toledo is full of little surprises.

Quote of the Week

2009-02-11T08:09:00.000-08:00

My professor (a middle-aged, really smart Asian man), after telling us to look at Second Life because of it's relevance to our class topic:

"When you go on Second Life though, you have to watch out for naked people. Last time I was showing students Second Life and naked people just popped onto the screen from nowhere."

That is like, the best thing I have learned in any class all semester! Ha ha. I will definitely keep my eye open for naked avatars on Second Life:). Beware.

Undergrad Dreams of Baby. Now.

2009-02-05T20:03:00.000-08:00

Recently, I overheard this undergrad venting about how much she "just feels like she wants a baby, like now!"

I am not sure of the prior context to this comment, but the conversation continued by her saying that a journalism career wouldn't allow her to have a family for at least ten years after college, since it takes that long for you to establish yourself.... and, what age do you graduate college at?

(Insert five second break to mathematically figure it out)

Ouch. The answer is 22. That means you won't be ready for a child until age 32!! Quick! Switch majors while your future child still has the potential to be born without a fifty percent increased chance of having down syndrome!

Then, the guy next to her chimes in that 25 is a good age to get married.

I agree. Not a bad age.

Oh college.... a time when I thought I could actually plan out my life. Personal life included.

They have so much to learn...

A Note

2009-02-03T15:09:00.001-08:00

Dear Isaac from the Fray -

I am wondering if you would perhaps marry me. I would normally prefer to be asked for my hand in marriage instead of asking - however - I just listened to your new album and it is that amazing. So I am making an exception. You can thank the song "That's Enough for Now," for leading me to bend my own rules.

Please let me know soon. We would have a fun life.

From, Me.

On another note here are some random facts I learned today (other than The Fray's new album rocks), for your viewing pleasure:

The term "rock 'n roll," actually used to mean "sex" in some musical circles back in the 1930s. Scandalous.

The term "Motown," was coined because Motown music originated in Detroit - the Motor City. Who knew? I can't believe so many successful musical acts have hailed from Detroit (e.g. Eminem, Kid Rock, and all of Motown. Well, besides the Boyz II Men who describe themselves as "motown philly." My new knowledge tells me that "motown philly" is an oxymoron. Get it right BIIM).

Time to catch the bus.

Choking, Dying, or Speaking Arabic? With Me, It's Hard to Tell

2009-01-29T21:07:00.000-08:00

Arabic. Is. Hard. I can’t even pronounce half the flippin’ letters. To make matters worse, seriously THREE-FOURTHS of the students in my Arabic class already know Arabic. I'm not kidding. What is this about?! This is beginning Arabic people!

I guess, what this is "about," is that there are many Somali students in class who have been reciting the Koran in Arabic since childhood. The only reason they signed up for the class is because they wanted to learn Modern Standard Arabic, rather than the Arabic dialect they have been taught. Plus, I am guessing most of them want to learn Arabic's use in everyday life, rather than simply for purposes of reading the Koran. Some do not know Arabic that well, but speak Somali. This does not matter. For, even if they only speak Somali, they still have a major advantage over me. The Somali language is made up of the same alphabet and consequently the same sounds. So, they at least sound good when trying to de-codify the language.

I sound like I’m choking when I try to pronounce some letters in the “Alif Ba” (translation: Arabic alphabet). Either choking or dying. Take your pick.

On the plus side, the knowledge of my classmates kind of provides me with, well, 10 personal tutors. The guy who sits next to me apparently grew up in Dubai. He tells me what every single word means. And how to pronounce it. Another student who often sits next to me offered pronunciation advice and encouragement today. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It takes practice. You can read the language, that’s a great start.” Ha. Ha.

Proof that I am not joking can be derived from the words of a fellow American classmate. As class ended yesterday - a class where I had thoroughly massacred the pronunciation of a well-intentioned sentence - a girl turned around and tried euphemistically to ask if I would like help. “You know,” she said, “if you ever want to like meet after class, or…” She was stumbling a bit with her words so I stepped in. “You mean, if I ever need help,” I said, and laughed. She smiled and was like, "Yeah with pronunciation or anything – it can be really hard. We sometimes meet after class."

Oh man. You know you need help when the American offers to help you☺. No, she was really nice. I just thought it was funny. In my other class, my lack of ability was not so obvious. Perhaps because there were more people who didn’t speak Arabic, AS NATURAL FOR A BEGINNING ARABIC CLASS. Hmph. Oh well. I guess, I will try to use it to my benefit. N’Shallah! (It means God willing. I know, I know, I am so good.)

Of Balls

2009-01-27T16:43:00.000-08:00

I am talking about Inaugural Balls here folks. Get your mind into high culture. Last week at this time I was heading to an Inaugural Ball, one of two I would be trying to make that night. Our first stop was to be the Neighborhood Ball; the most-coveted ball tickets of the inauguaral celebration. Unfortunately, due to a set of circumstances beyond our control, we were late and missed most of it. The circumstances beyond our control included a van that took a long time to get us there because it had to pick up a few "important" people (i.e., the President of the Washington Bar (Law) Association, a couple other high-powered attorneys and a writer for Glamour Magazine) before dropping us off. I am not sure how I got myself in this van. Actually, I do, Sarah's connections got us a ride downtown.

Anyway, but once we got there it was sweet. Besides the high-priced drinks, it was the coolest event I've ever been to; equipped with acrobats, Stevie Wonder, glitter and all. The Neighborhood Ball ended early though; at 10:30. At that point, we headed to our "late-night" destination: The Youth Ball.

Let me tell you, that was a stressful experience. The last hour or so ended up being fun. Even though we missed Obama and the performers, which consequently made it like a glorified prom. With beer. I liked prom though, so it was a good time. Just not super awesome like the first one. See, they wouldn't let us in at first because they said it was overcrowded. Everyone had bought tickets though, so we were not happy. Fortunately, we got in eventually, but it took aggression and perseverance on our parts.

I'm pretty beat. I have been thrust head-first into the school year. So I'm going to stop writing about balls right now, and start digging into my globalization theories reading. What a pleasant alternative.

A New President. Part II.

2009-01-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

Ok, continuing on from my last post...

Crowds and arrivals.

The crowd at the inauguration was crazy. In fact, although it created problems, it was also probably the part I liked most. Hearing that many people cheer is just incredible. I was a bit perturbed at some reactions though, such as the crowd's booing when George W. Bush was announced. Seriously people. I know pretty much no one likes the job he has done, but have some respect. Come on. After booing, some began singing, "Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, good bye." Not classy. Get a grip. It bothered me. Joy erupted moments after however, as Biden walked onto the stage following Bush. Finally, Obama's arrival was announced and I felt the earth move under my feet as millions erupted in laud.

Onto the taking of the oath.

Thanks to annoying and really loud police sirens, I did not get to hear much of Obama's actual swearing in. Which apparently he had to do-over anyway. So I guess I didn't miss much. Plus, the cheers following the completion of the oath made up for anything I may have missed. As soon as Obama was sworn in, 21 gun shots were fired - as the tradition goes. Many of us up front near the gunman kind of forgot about this tradition.

A simple equation for our feelings during this brief moment of forgetfulness:
A country under the threat of terrorism + the biggest event of the nation + unexpected gunshots = many people slightly scared. Including me.

After like, the fifth shot though everyone relaxed. We remembered the tradition and figured that if it were a terrorist shooting those guns, security would have shot them dead by at least the third shot. Comfort.

Speaking of security it was a bit ridiculous but that's to be expected. I was glad they were there. The coolest things I saw at the ceremony were Obama's car driving into the Capitol and George Bush's plane leaving. We were in very close proximity to both events.

My final thoughts:).

So yeah, essentially, being at the Inauguration was awesome. Spirits were high, and the vibe was exhilarating, for the most part. There was one vibe running through the air, however, that kind of weirded me out. This was the vibe of Obama worship. It seemed like some people, actually worship Obama; like he had become this idol, this savior to them. I guess people are just looking to worship something huh. I thought Obama subtly spoke to that worship-vibe in his speech - inferring that it wasn't him that was going to save the world. It was up to all of us working together.

Obama is just a man. He is definitely, definitely not divine. I really, really hope most people realize his fallible humanity. I think they do. President Obama is going to screw up. If we don't realize that, we will be disappointed when it happens. In the meantime, he has done a great job inspiring people to actually take part in the improvement of their country. Creating a "more perfect union," if you will :).

When the Obama phenomenon has worn off, and it will, I hope his message leaves this nation with a lasting understanding. An understanding that what we do makes a difference and of the power of hope. For while Obama is far from divine, the hope he speaks about is divine. Through hope, people can experience a leader far greater than Obama. They can experience The Leader who rules the world, never fails and has a kingdom that never ends.

Madness, Excitement and a New President

2009-01-22T10:48:00.000-08:00

Welp, it looks like we here in the U. S. of A. have a new president. The Inauguration was crazy. Wow. In fact, in the words of Biggie Smalls, I feel like “it was all a dream.” I have not read news of the Inauguration, so I am not aware of the event's details. I only know what I saw; millions of Obama-fans on steroids, the decorated face of the Capitol, policemen and members of the FBI, caravans of black cars, and slight glimpses of politicians, musicians, poets and preachers on the Capitol stairs welcoming in a new political era.

The ticket I had was purple, so it got me onto the Capitol’s lawn which was really close. I am grateful I got in - as two minutes after we showed our tickets and thrust ourselves through the gates security closed them off. This was not cool, because our section was ticketed. Everyone with tickets was supposed to have a spot. My section, the purple section, was closed off first. Right now on facebook there is a group called "The Purple Tunnel of Death," which is made up of purple ticket holders who didn’t get through the gates. They are noooot happy. In fact, right now, there is an investigation underway trying to figure out why they didn’t get in. Purple tickets were great tickets. So the people who did not get in were like state campaign managers, delegates, etc...; people who worked hard and deserved to see the day's spectacle.

Anyway. Back to my experience.

Rumor has it that there were millions of people on Washington Mall that morning. I wouldn’t know. I could only see the crowds in front of me, which were significantly smaller than what was supposedly behind me. Though I was close, my view of the Inauguration stars was pretty blocked by the bleachers hugging both sides of the stage.Thankfully, my other senses took in what my eyes could not. I could hear the cermony’s speakers for sure. More importantly though, I could practically taste unity while sandwiched between strangers, feel the vibrations of the crowd's excitement and hear the cheers of millions who came out to witness history.

To be continued… as I have to go to class for the first day.

Obama-Mania Day 1

2009-01-18T19:06:00.001-08:00

Today has been fun. It has consisted of a series of random events that make me love my life - and thank God. So I wake up late, but make my plane anyway. I end up in Charlotte, NC. At Charlotte I discover that I will be in Baltimore, MD 4 hours earlier than expected. This means I can make the inaugural opening ceremonies. Yeah! On the plane from Charlotte to Baltimore, I initiate conversation with a nice couple next to me. They offer to drive me from Baltimore airport to DC. This is amazing. Especially considering I had no idea how I was going to get to DC from Baltimore. So this same couple gave me their address and phone number in case I needed anything - including a place to stay. Holler. She was a minister for a Unitarian Universalist Church. Very nice woman.

So I arrive in DC. Sarah meets me, and we go to the concert on the mall. My mouth seriously drops open as I step out onto the Washington Mall for the first time. It's like all those things I've seen in the movies become real. There, in front of me were thousands of people, the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, The Capitol, and Jefferson Memorial. A couple of steps later, I see the White House. I have never seen these before. They are freaking awesome. Plus, the vibe in the city is ridiculous! Everyone is so excited, and everyone is from everywhere! I already met some sweet peeps - one who is down here training for the foreign service, which I totally want to be in someday.

Anyway, we went to the opening concert but were really far away. EVERYONE and their mother performed; Bon Jovi, Bono, Beyonce, John Mellencamp, Usher, uh... Samuel L. Jackson, Garth Brooks, and of course, a speech from the man of the moment: Obama. So the locals here are capitalizing on the prolific influx of visitors by selling everything and anything "Obama." The best product I've seen so far were Obama essential oils. Ha. Which basically, were these little bottles of sweet-smelling oils plastered with Obama's face. Sarah literally turned to them and was like, "Good luck!"

Now, we are going out on the tizz-own. I am pumped! There are people here from everywhere! Ok time to go. Thought I'd provide an update!

Amazing. Inauguration, Here I Come

2009-01-15T15:26:00.001-08:00

After literally an entire day of searching and thoroughly working my connections, I have found somewhere to stay in Washington, D.C. What this means, is that I am actually going to attend Obama's Inauguration on Tuesday. HOOLLLYY CRAP. I am so excited. It seems to good to be true. Additionally, I get to go to one of the inaugural balls. I would like to give Sarah K. a shout out for making my dreams a reality. Thank you Sarah. And God, of course.

Wow. This is ridiculous! I have to buy a ball gown. My ball gown will be subsidized by the government of course - thank you federal loans. So far, the government has helped fund the following purchases:

1) Britney Spears tickets

2) Plane tickets to Portland, Seattle & Phoenix

3) Tickets to an Inaugural Ball

4) A ball gown

5) Christmas presents

6) Oh yeah, and of course, student service fees:)

Thank you government. I will pay you back when I can. I would also like to thank my professors for so generously giving me the opportunity to miss classes the first week of school. Wow. I still feel like this is too good to be true. Ok. Onto buying plane tickets. Obamanos baby.

DISCLAIMER: I am joking about the government money thing so do not take me seriously and take away my student loans. Thank you.

Warm Welcome

2009-01-13T16:55:00.000-08:00

I would like to thank Minnesota for warmly welcoming me back into its territory. Five hours ago, the climate surrounding me was 75 degrees and sunny. Now, it is -10 degrees, dark and cold. Not to mention I am currently locked out of my house. Lovely. Thanks to my neighbors I am not dead yet. So good to be back...

Sun, Guns and Fun

2009-01-11T21:50:00.000-08:00

Sun sure does revive. Unfortunately for me this revival comes at the cost of hearing my sister and her boyfriend banter for hours. I just got back from a 35-minute car ride during which they seriously argued about what hair cut my sister should have. Now, apparently they have forgiven each other because she's back to sitting on his lap and they are calling each other bunny. Seriously.

Back to the sun. It's so freaking amazing here because it is sunny and warm. Today, we went horseback riding in the desert. It was beautiful. The cacti in AZ are huge! Apparently the big ones are like 500-hundred years old and every square foot weighs 75 lbs. They are gorg, just gorg... The name of my horse was Plum Darling. She was a pretty good horse - no sudden, schizo moves were made so I was happy. My sister Megan had a horse named Baby.

When she was handing Baby's reigns over to Megan the woman who took us on the trail says, "yeah, just be careful with this one, sometimes she has problems." Megan's like "Ok, well what problems?" "Oh," the woman replied, "she just startles sometimes."

Ha. Startles sometimes? That will get your imagination running. Especially in a desert equipped with rattlesnakes.

Don't worry though ('cause I know you totally were), we all made it back safe - Megan's horse did not gallop off into the sunset thanks to any surprise snake attacks. Whew.

There are lots of strange animal behaviors in AZ I've found. In addition to the horse with the "startling problem," there is my sister's cat. The cat's name is Tuna (don't ask. I don't know), and it is manic and co-dependent. It seriously will not leave a human alone. It has to be around you at all times. The only times it can walk away from you, are the instances in which it randomly sprints off around the room bouncing off walls and other items like its tail was on fire. However, its tail is always perfectly fine.

I think I'm done writing for the day. Tomorrow, I am off to shoot guns in the AZ desert. I am not kidding.

My Mom's Dog Sings

2009-01-08T14:29:00.000-08:00

This video is from Thanksgiving back in H-Town, but I kept forgetting to post it. So my mom's goldendoodle, Marley, has this trick/weird habit of spontaneously breaking out in song when my mom's cell phone rings. It's strange, but cute.

The film of Marley's antics is below. Be patient, the first thirty seconds are waiting for my mom how to figure out her cell phone. If you can get past that, a treasure awaits you...

On another note, I am still in Seattle. I seriously love this city. It is so cute. Even with the rain. However, I will be getting some sun tomorrow, as I'm heading to "The Dale" as my sister calls it. Otherwise known as Scottsdale, Arizona. Again. I love winter break.