Operation Deep Clean

of being and non being

2009-03-24T02:53:00.001-07:00

i am unaware of my external persona, however we are all beings who communicate what we experience, akin to intelligent mediums, who transpose their acquired knowledge within their social circles. so basically everything is within reach, if it has been understood. like men and women who were born blind and never learned to see the light, will at some point, begin to understand the different facets of this brightness, its warmth, effect, purpose and such, whereas someone who entered this world, and was able to see everything clearly, will take this very light for granted, see it merely as light. the very singularity of his understanding will begin to cripple his growth. he may grow bodily but the essential comprehension will remain undeveloped.

the idea that we were all thrown into our supposedly independent adult lives like a bunch of cannon balls, and that we found everything as it was, came to accept it fatally. i do not shy away from the concept of fatality if it is coupled with a sound sense of questioning ingrained that will so oft raise the skeptic’s proud head from its dark den of habitude, to perform the sacred rites of ablution. to be baptised by the uncertainity of everything around us, our presumptions, truths and beliefs, is by far the only commendable act anyone may ever hope to achieve. why? because it is a neutralizing factor that is capable of extinguishing our prejudices.

everything else is hogwash.

last night i was attempting to clean the kitchen floor, a detestable job no doubt, and everytime i ran the mop in a particular spot, i would turn around to get something, and notice a dirt mark, after a couple of repetitive attempts, it dawned on my rotund brain, that the slippers which encased my feet, were in fact soiled from having gone outside, and they were the guilty culprits. it made me think of how we as men and women, fight all our lives to set rules and morals, attempting to redefine lives and act revolutionary, while utterly failing in the act and wallowing in self-pity and whatnot. we fail to see that perchance it is our feet that are not clean, that the people who attempt to bring change do not sport the very change which they speak of. this hypocrisy and irony thus in a stealthy manner reinstates all our previous failures.

TSOAF Act II

2009-03-24T02:52:00.001-07:00

The Trouble With Tomatoes

2009-03-22T02:46:00.001-07:00

The Trouble with Tomatoes: A Discussion of Workers’ Rights and Environmental Justice

This Wednesday, March 25 from 7-9m Oxfam America at NYU will be hosting a discussion about tomatoes in the Parlor at 1 Washington Square North, room 101. Tomatoes may seem dull until you follow their journey.

“Come join Sustainable Silver and Oxfam America at NYU on the anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire as we follow a tomato from the fields it’s grown in to the salad on our plates. We’ll be screening two short films, Coalition of Immokalee Workers vs. Taco Bell, about the struggle of tomato pickers in Southwest Florida to acceptable working conditions and a living wage, and Shame on You, a youth-made documentary about environmental justice, air quality, and recycling in the Bronx. We’ll then be joined for a panel discussion with two of the producers of Shame on You, New York City food sovereignty activist Sarah Pappas, and NYU’s own Anna Smukowski of Oxfam.”

And of course there will be FREE food! But at this event, Green Canteen* will provide fresh and sustainable food!

*Green Canteen is an on-campus food stand that offers sustainable meals and is to be launched this fall, 2009.

Time For Frank Wolf (R-VA 10th District) To Resign. Otherwise, We Should Recall Him.

2009-03-21T03:29:00.001-07:00

Frank Wolf (R-VA) is usually a stalwart Congressman who fights hard for the 10th District. But, his vote of “Yea” on HR 1586, the retroactive taxing of bonuses paid to AIG, shows that he is no longer worthy of our trust or respect.

Here’s why he needs to go:

Article I, Section 9, Clause 3 of the Constitution of the United States may very well be on the chopping block. Yesterday, the House of Representatives voted to impose a 90% tax on the bonuses given out to AIG employees. Frank Wolf voted “Yea.”

Now, the bonuses are not at issue here. Whether they are right or wrong, good or bad is immaterial to what is really going on.

The House passed a bill that is specifically forbidden by Article I, Section 9, Clause 3. “No Bill of Attainder or Ex Post Facto Law shall be passed.” You can pick either one of those and it would cover this 90% bonus tax.

First, a Bill of Attainder, in the context of the Constitution, means a bill that has a negative effect on a single person or group. A punitive tax that specifically targets a certain group (i.e. those who were to receive these bonuses) certainly falls under the definition here. That makes this tax unconstitutional.

Second, when Congress passed the stimulus package and Barack Obama put the Presidential signature on that bill, it became the law of the land. Part of that law is an amendment put in by Sen. Chris Dodd (D-CT) that specifically exempted these bonuses from any regulation. Now, Congress is seeking to implement a law that puts such regulation in place and they want to enforce this law retroactively. That is known as an Ex Post Facto law.

Either way you look at it, this 90% tax Congress wants to retroactively impose on bonus payments that had previously been made perfectly legal by Congress and the President, is wholly, completely and absolutely unconstitutional. It is not the bonuses that matter here. It is the fact that Mr. Wolf voted to allow Congress a power that it never had before and should absolutely never, ever have at all.

I have already written Mr. Wolf asking him to resign. I highly recommend that other residents of Virginia’s 10th District do likewise.

Within the next few days, we residents of the 10th District need to get together and begin a recall campaign.

If Mr. Wolf is willing to violate this part of the Constitution, then he is willing to violate other parts of the Constitution as well. The 10th District deserves much better representation than that.

We need to come together and demand that Mr. Wolf step down before he votes to do even more damage to the Constitution’s integrity.

JACK CANFIELD - Setting Career Goals

2009-03-21T03:27:00.001-07:00

Three-bean Chili with Pesto

2009-03-19T02:28:00.001-07:00

Okay, so I’m not on a diet. First, I hate diets and second, the red velvet cupcakes that I’ve been downing every night after dinner definitely disqualifies me from any diet. But I’ve been working out a lot, and ever since this happened I’ve found myself wanting lighter, fresher meals.

This was one of the first meals that I made when Jeff and I moved in together, and I wish I had made it more through the summer. It is super quick — I made this, photographed it, sat down and ate it, cleaned up, uploaded my photos, and wrote half this blog post all within an hour of coming in from the gym — easy, and made up of ingredients you probably have in your pantry. It keeps very well and is great for lunches, reheated or eaten cold. Serve the chili with crusty bread or toasted pitas.

The original recipe calls for 14.5 ounce cans of beans and tomatoes, but they don’t seem to stock them north of the border. I used 19 ounce cans, which bumps the serving size up from four to about six or seven. I have included the directions for making your own pesto, but I keep a jar in my fridge and just throw a dollop of that on top. Lastly, feel free to use any combination of beans you have.

Now… where are those cupcakes?

Three-bean Chili with Pesto

From Real Simple

Ingredients:

1 tbsp. olive oil

1 small yellow onion, chopped

2 carrots, diced

1 19-fl oz. can diced tomatoes, including liquid

Salt and pepper

1 19-fl oz. can each chickpeas, cannellini beans and kidney beans, rinsed and drained

Method:

1. Heat the olive oil in a large sauce-pan, over medium heat (3.5). Add the onion and carrots and cook until tender, about 5 minutes.

2. Stir in the tomatoes and their liquid, 2 cups water, 1.5 teaspoons salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper and bring to a boil. Add the beans and cook until heated through, about 3 minutes.

3. Divide the chili up into bowls and top with pesto.

Quick pesto

Ingredients:

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

3 tbsps. pine nuts, chopped

1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Method:

Combine the garlic, pine nuts, parsley, olive oil, 1/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon in the food processor and pulse until mixed.

What If There’s No Place To Go?

2009-03-17T02:42:00.001-07:00

If you ride a motorcycle and live in Lubbock, Texas, you have to ride 100 miles or more before the scenery changes. The flatness of the terrain around here frequently rivals that of a pool table.

The great people of Lubbock reside on what is known as the Llano Estacado, a region that covers eastern New Mexico and the Texas Panhandle and is one of the largest mesas in North America.

While Lubbock doesn’t sit in the middle of the Llano Estacado, it’s not far from it.

Those who ride motorcycles frequently enjoy getting off of what we call “The Cap,” or Caprock, and will head 45 miles southeast to Post for a change of scenery or 70 miles or so south to Gail, or 100 miles northeast to Quitaque.

Those rides take you off the Cap and through some of the very nice canyons that are quite scenic and also offer the chance to see some wildlife.

But riders can only go those directions so many times before even those rides become boring.

That’s why, every once in a while, you need to go someplace to the south or west of Lubbock in order to appreciate the scenery off the Cap.

This past Sunday a small group of Lubbock riders took off to ride through the flat cotton land and oil fields of Terry, Yoakum and Hockley counties, with the turnaround destination being the aptly named Plains, Texas.

Plains is one of those small communities that dot West Texas. The residents there provide services for the cotton patch and the oil fields that surround the town. Other than that, there’s not much other than a school a few businesses and churches and a bunch of great folks.

On a Sunday following the Friday where their heroes the Plains Cowboys basketball team was playing in the state championship in Austin there’s really not even that much there.

As our small steel-pony posse rode through Plains looking for a café to grab hamburger and soda pop, it appeared that the town was deserted except for the Dairy Queen. After taking on refreshments there, we headed back to Lubbock.

The ride on 214 out of Plains is nothing if not mundane. Except for the occasional highway sign (several that indicate that the sand is deep just off the pavement), there’s not much to look at, although this does appear as if it could be the area where the government filmed the fake moon landing in 1969.

While the ride from Lubbock to Brownfield to Plains to Ropesville and back to Lubbock won’t make my Top 10 motorcycle rides, it’s definitely good for two things:

It gets me on my motorcycle on a beautiful West Texas day, and

It helps me appreciate the rides to Turkey and Post and Gail and Fluvanna a little bit more.

Doing Nothing...in Turbo

2009-03-15T02:54:00.001-07:00

The atypical blog about Spring Break would, I imagine begin something like this: “Alright dudes, time to tell you about my wicked Spring Break! Me and the bros got so wasted! So many chicks, man. So. Many. Chicks.”

This is the part where I tell you my Spring Break has not been the wild Tequila-fueled Greco-Roman orgy it seems to be nowadays thanks to the wonders of MTV. Grazie, Music Television. Grazie. Nay, my Spring Break has thus far been a week of me doing random school assignments and catching up on one thing i truly miss when bogged down by tests and papers: sleep. All this sleeping of course has lead to oversleeping, which has cut back on actual productivity in some areas. Like my hair. At some point today, I’m determined to go out and get my hair cut. You see, I have thick, wavy hair. When my hair gets too long, it resorts to its original form…which is curly. One it hits that, there is no choice but to trim it. My hair takes on another life, as if to sit on a throne on my head with two angry demon dogs shouting “there is no hair, only Zuul.” My long hair gets out of hand. I think today I’ll be making this long-needed trip to Hair Cuttery.

So a lot has gone down this week that I would typically talk about on my show. Seeing as how I am home for another two days, that didn’t exactly happen this week. So lets head into some news, shall we?

First item on the chopping block is the new iPod Shuffle that Apple released Wednesday. The new shuffle is the smallest music player ever made, and features no physical buttons on the device itself, save for the obligatory “Shuffle-Loop-Lock” switch at the top. Instead, music is now controlled via the earbuds, which have a special clicker on them that allows you to…ok you know what? I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to describe this horrendous piece of technology anymore. I’ll begin this rant by saying that overall, I like Apple. I own a number of Apple products, all of which have for the most part never given me a problem, and when I did encounter some, they were remedied quickly. Despite my overall endearment towards the company, they are truly beginning to piss me off. Apple, for a long time, stood for the simplification of the needlessly complex. They had mottos like “It just works” and “Think Different.” Apple still innovates, yes, there is no arguing that. The iPhone is one of the most revolutionary pieces of technology in the past decade, and therefore it is perfectly understandable to give Apple credit where it is due. However, Joe giveth, and Joe taketh away. In the past year or so, Apple, as it seems, has begun innovating for the sake of innovating, even if it means sacrificing something that “just works.” The iPod shuffle is not the flagship iPod. Its a secondary one used primarily for working out, or by grizzled parents who aren’t sure what Twitter is, but assume that it something scary and dangerous like all parents do. Apple took something that could not be screwed up- a compact, fashionable, cheap iPod, and gave it to Edward Scissorhands to play with while they introduced this technological mistake. They increased the capacity to four gigs, as if to say “Well if you’re going to run, you might as well run a little longer you fatass!” I’m rambling now, but I’ll sum up my feelings about the new iPod this way: Remember on the Brady Bunch when they introduced Cousin Oliver out of nowhere, making the collective audience of the show do a double take while uttering “What in the sam hill!?” (They talked like that back then. Silly old people). Its like that. It just doesn’t belong.

In other news, Jack White formed a new band! Its called Dead Weather, and they have a new single out called Hang You By the Heavens. You can find it on iTunes and Amazon. I downloaded the song today and I must say- I am impressed. Jack White is one of those musicians who never ceases to amaze me, really. He’s beyond talented. I’ll admit, I wasn’t a fan of the song for Quantum of Solace, but I’ll let it slide because he gave the world the White Stripes and the Raconteurs. Good outweighing bad. I suppose one could apply the same logic to the Apple discussion, but if someone were to bring that up, I would gaze angrily at them while crossing my arms and standing on my tip-toes, because that makes me look extra-intimidating. That would shut them up nice and good. I sure showed them! *Hi-Five montage!* I digress, Jack White is awesome. He makes killer songs. Go listen to them. And go watch him act in Cold Mountain, cause he is the only thing that makes that movie tolerable. (Yeah, thats right Nicole Kidman. I went there. You and your squinty-eyed face and rottweiler physique.)

Now that I’ve got your mind all depressed with images of Nicole Kidman, I thought I would actually get serious and talk about something big in the radio world. I kid a lot, folks, but when it comes to important discussions, I am a very real individual, and when I found this out, it broke my heart. Apparently, earlier this week, K-Rock, the major rock radio station in New York switched to Top 40. Losing K-Rock is the penultimate sign that rock radio is on the decline. No matter how many local stations went under, New York as the number one market had K-Rock, and it almost acted as a glimmer of hope to people. K-Rock is now exclusively on HD Radio, and it depresses me to see an established station as historic, legendary, and influential in the music world as K-Rock go. I had inspirations more from local stations when I wanted to get involved with radio, but there are rock stations across the country everyone in the industry knows: K-Rock in NY, KROQ in LA, Q101 in Chicago. These are like castles in a kingdom…establishments people revere. We lost a good one this week, and I mourn it. Rest in peace, K-Rock, just know that there are people out there who love the music and want to keep it alive as best they can, in any way they can.

The Crowd at a Rock Show

2009-03-15T02:53:00.001-07:00

Mercutio&Benvolio

2009-03-15T02:52:00.001-07:00

Parent Cheerleaders

2009-03-12T02:30:00.001-07:00

Though I am not biologically a parent, I’ve had my share of experiences with children. I was priviledged to be part of a group of Sunday school teachers since before my teen years. Our class size was about 120 students in the Bay area. I’ve also had an important role in the life of my nieces and nephew whom I’ve cared for in frequent semi-extended periods of times. I’ve work with youth for several years, and have over 6 years of professional experience in public classroom settings from pre-K to 10th grade. (The previous is not just rambling to boast, rather it is to convince you that I might just know what I’m talking about in this blog.)

I heard a story of a family that had a son who was pretty good in football. The parents did everything in their own power to pump up their son’s “talent”. When it came time for the son to enter high school, the parents sold their house move to another city which had the best football team around. Sold the house…imagine that??! Four years later, their son is upset because he “just now found out” that he does NOT have (contrary to what his parents always told him) what it takes to get into the college football team he always wished for. His parents had always cheer his meer efforts and pumped his “unique talent”. Sure ,in primary years, he kid had “self-…or should I say, shelf-esteem” meaning it was a value held high by third party not by himself. But what about now? In the real world? All this time, he lived with a false image of an effortless invinsible self. His anger perhaps is at the parents or more probable, at the unfair college coach. huh….gold figure!

Self-esteem is developed by the literal meaning of these words: esteem (value) found in (by) oneself. It is the merits, goals, feats, and things I achieve that give me my perception of SELF-WORTH. How much do I think I am worth is the real question. Neither money, words of affirmation, gifts, nor external motivators can bring genuine self-esteem. Parents need to understand this concept so that they in hand can teach it to their children. Setting achievable goals with one’s child at a very early age and an action plan will set-up one’s child not only for a positive self-esteem but a successful lifestyle with good habits.

So, to the “parent cheerleader” who over-pumps their kid to deceptively increase their child’s self-esteem: who moves/knocks/and stomps on whatever/whoever to make sure their child does not have to face the “evil people” in life (the teachers, students, law enforcements, youth leaders, etc); who parents out of guilt and showers his/her kid with unmerited gifts; who can’t bear the fact that his/her kid might just be average or dare I say, below average; who risks losing their marriage to save their child’s behind; who bends the rules of the game and thinks that the game of life will bend its moments’ time just for their kid…..let none of us forget that:

When half time is over, the cheerleaders are just leading cheers, and the football player has to go out onto the field win the game all on his own.

Higher.

2009-03-10T02:44:00.001-07:00

Phone call, 10:30. Billy wants to make sure we’re meeting when I said we would. Sleep, wakeup again at 11:10, make two english muffins again, shave, head out to Gill. See Grare again on 202/206, fail to beat him again. Mr. B sees us pull into the parking lot and yells at us telling us he will call the cops if we drive like that again.

Billy, Grare, and I run, I serenade Grare with Laid covered by Better Than Ezra, then head to the gym. I complete an additional core workout while we all chill. Head to Chipotle, eat deliciousness, head to Grare’s. Epicness begins.

3:40ish we begin the endless setlist for rockband one, with Grare on guitar, Billy on bass, and myself on drums. We end somewhere about 8:10, having played straight through with almost no breaks, and never failing a song. We developed a system to see who does best in each song performance wise, and tallied up wins for each person. The person to win the most songs gets a free dinner tonight. Billy and I tied with 10, and Grare pulled a 15. Round two of this competition existed for the last 11 songs of the game. Grare and I tied with 5 wins each, and Billy with one. Once again, completed the set without fail, kinda awesome.

Finally went to Friday’s, had some appetizers knowing that we were going to have an additional dinner shortly following at which we were going to just chill, after having played that game for literally hours on end. Went back to Grare’s, I took a shower, they played some more rockband, then we headed out to Time to Eat diner, somewhere around 11:10. Had a Creed themed drive, wound up starting higher when we got to the circle, drove around the circle three times while blasting/singing/ and rocking out to it. Then drove into the parking lot of Time to Eat, drove in three more tight circles repeated the actions above, then parked. Walked upto the door, noticed it closed in a little under an hour and a half, ran back to the car and drove to the Sunset Diner on 22, once gain, blasting Creed.

This apparently was our longest time in a diner on record, going from 11:36 till 4:05. I got some nachos, and we chilled and talked about a lot of random stuff. Drew a massive borderline retarded picture on the back of a placemat, and played some games with creamers. Some guy showed us a video of his professor drawing a perfect circle, then explained to us the origin of the perfect circle. Kinda interesting. Left the diner a little after four, after spending probably 15 minutes trying to figure out what we were doing with the check.

Drove back to Grare’s dropped off Grare and Billy, solidified plans for running tomorrow. Drove home. Now I lie in bed typing this, and listening to Anna Nalick. I unfortunately, or maybe fortunately am going to close this post with a Creed quote, from Higher, the ninth song off of the album Human Clay, referencing my exhaustion from the day.

“At sunrise, I fight to stay alseep, cause I don’t wanna leave the comfort of this place.” -Creed

And it ended with vomit

2009-03-08T01:36:00.001-08:00

Today we went to Tyler. The wife of one of my cousins is expecting baby girl in about a month. Today was the baby shower for them. The baby shower was to start at 2pm. Not the best time of day for us since we usually start bedtime routine around 4:45 and it is a two hour drive from where we live to Tyler and we probably wouldn’t even leave Tyler until about 4:00 pm.

BUT…we don’t see my Tyler family very often and we wanted to go so they could see the boys and so that we could wish my cousin good luck and all. We are pretty flexible about things and figure it will all work out. 6 month old babies? They do not necessarily have this same perspective on life.

The trip down was uneventful. They slept most of the way and when they did wake up they were happy and played with whatever toys I had put in their seats. When we arrived at our destination both boys were happy and reacted well to everyone. You never can tell how they will react with people they don’t really see and therefore really don’t know. But they did great. After diaper changes and bottles all was well.

Until Dean started repeatedly spitting up large quantities of his last bottle AND his lunch from 2 hours earlier. It didn’t seem to bother him one bit. I have decided that he gets motion sick. He always spits up so much more when we have been in the car for a period of time. I get motion sick…so maybe he does too.

When we left Tyler around 4:oo pm (exactly when I had planned for us to leave) the crying started. Dean quickly fell asleep. Emory? Not so much. We were maybe 5 minutes down the road when we had to stop and calm Emory down. We thought maybe he was hungry so we made a bottle. Not hungry. Back in the seat. 5 minutes later we stop again. He took a little of his bottle and calmed down so off we went again.

We made it to the highway and Dean woke up and started crying. 10 minutes later we were stopped again. This time to feed Dean. As soon as we entered the on-ramp for the highway Emory started crying again. By this point it was almost 5 pm and we were just on the outside of Tyler. It should take us 2 hours to get home. I ruefully said we would be lucky to make tonight’s return trip in 4 hours. Little did I know…

We finally decided we needed to feed them. So we exited the highway, drove down some back road highway in the middle of nowhere, until we hit another highway and a town. We stopped to calm Emory and ask where the nearest grocery store was. We were lucky. It was less than a mile from where we were. Nathan took the boys out and changed them while I went in to buy food and spoons. We fed them in their seats. Everything seemed good. Surely we could make it home now.

We had no more than turned out of the parking lot and Emory started screaming AGAIN. At this point, my parents who had left Tyler about an hour after us had caught up to us and were no more than 5 minutes behind us. Emory was literally screaming in the back seat. So Nathan pulled to the side of the road and climbed in the back seat and I climbed into the driver’s seat. There is not enough room for a normal sized adult to sit between the car seats but we were very VERY desperate. It didn’t help.

Finally Nathan said I needed to pull over. Emory was crying so hard he was shaking. So what does my husband say to me? He says he is afraid Emory is crying so hard he would cause himself to seize. Like in have a seizure. Holy Hell. I think I stopped breathing. My brain was on fast forward. Was that even possible? I couldn’t just pull to the side of the road. That wasn’t safe. So I sped up. If a highway patrol pulled me over for speeding then so be it. Finally we came to a gas station on the outskirts of a town that is about 45 mins to an hour away from home. I pulled in. No sooner had I pulled in than Nathan had pulled Emory out of his seat.

I was near tears and barely holding it together. I don’t think that a baby can cry so hard that they have a seizure. If they can then please don’t tell me because I don’t want to know. But Nathan could not have said a more horrifying statement to me at that moment.

Mom and Dad pulled in to the station a few minutes later. We decided to put one of the boys in their car so my mom could sit in the back with one of the boys and Nathan could actually sit in the back of our car with the other. So we moved Dean’s car seat to their car. We figured he was in less distress and that would be best. Finally we were back on the road.

Emory was calm. Dean was calm. Excellent!

Emory fell asleep. We were about 30 minutes from home. Nathan was just about to climb back into the front seat when it happened. In his sleep Emory started to vomit. Not spit up. VOMIT. EVERYTHING. I yanked the car way off the road. I called my dad and frantically told him that I had pulled over because Emory was vomiting. I am pretty sure I hung up on him. I jumped out of the car and ran around to the back passenger side where he sits. Nathan had already unbuckled him and handed him to me. He was completely covered in vomit. His seat was also completely covered. I grabbed him. Now I was covered in it.

It was about 7:00 pm and completely dark. I was scared. My baby had just vomited in his sleep and we were pulled over on the side of the road in the dark. How many times do you hear a news story about people getting hit when they are pulled over? But there was nothing I could do. Nathan was trying to clean up the seat with whatever we had in the car. I was trying get his clothes and diaper off. Toys are falling into the high grass. I am frantically watching the passing cars for any sign one of them is heading towards us. It was horrible.

Just as we were packing the car up my parents showed up. They had pulled off and were waiting for us up the road but then my dad decided that they needed to turn around and see if we needed help. Emory went back into his seat. He was fine. Super sleepy but fine. We arrived home around 7:45. 15 minutes short of that 4 hours I had joked about.

I am exhausted. I estimate that Emory cried for almost 3 hours of the almost 4 it took us to get home.

I have decided that we are not going ANYWHERE for a LONG LONG LONG time. If I can’t get home within 30 minutes then it is too far away. Tonight was just too crazy to repeat in the near future! And because I know that some of my Tyler family read this…we are happy that we went to the shower that we got to see all of you…even if our return trip was hard! :)

Hot Chip Versus Jay-Z - Ready For My First Song

2009-03-08T01:35:00.001-08:00

Helpful Hints For Commuters

2009-03-07T02:27:00.001-08:00

Greetings, Carroll Students.

Today we have a message specifically for our off-campus friends, The Commuters.

If any of you readers live on campus, then please, stop reading NOW.

This message is not for you.

If you have friends that are commuters, tell them to read this, or get new friends.

Now that that’s out of the way, we have a special series of helpful hints for those of you who do not live on campus. We sent a similar message out a little while ago through your e-mails, but we thought there were a few important tips left off.

Tip #1: Arrive Early For Class

This seems like it should be obvious, but we think it’s important to remind you anyway. There’s always a slight chance you will have trouble finding a parking spot, so here’s a helpful tip to allow you to avoid being late for class:

Be early!

Tip #2: Always Check The Best Spaces First

Remember: There’s always a chance that the best parking spaces will be open. These are the spots closest to the gym in Overflow. ALWAYS check them. Just because you’re first class is at 1:00 pm, and you’re arriving at 12:50, that doesn’t mean someone will already have taken those spots.

Tip #3: “Legal” Parking Spaces Are For Chumps

Can’t find a parking space? Why don’t you just park wherever you want? We promise we won’t issue any tickets or anything, we probably have better things to do. Don’t bother looking around for somewhere to park, just leave your car wherever you want! Especially if you block the parking lot in such a way that other cars can’t get past you. After all, you and your car are more important than they are.

Tip #4: Checking For Open Spaces Behind Barstow Is Also For Chumps

Also don’t bother looking for spaces in the Barstow lot. If you can’t find any parking spaces in Overflow, see Tip #3.

Tip #5: Drive Through The Lots AS FAST AS YOU CAN.

Be careful though, there may be other people walking through the lots. But don’t worry about them, they’re not as important as you. God forbid they get in the way of your stupid looking giant sunglasses, and your terrible, TERRIBLE taste in music, which you have turned up so loud that they can hear it in the Tech Lab.

We’ve got a few more tips for you, but hopefully these will be good for now.

We’ll be getting more strict with enforcing rules soon, so keep these tips in mind just to be safe!

(Just kidding…about the first part. DO take these tips to heart!)

Thanks for reading!

-Your Friendly Neighborhood Campus Safety Officer

CMA Fest '07: The Secret To Successful Parking...

2009-03-07T02:26:00.001-08:00

DIY Home Improvement Tips: Free Instructional Guide to Home Repair Projects : Howt to Repair Holes in Drywall: DIY Home Improvement Tips

2009-03-05T02:52:00.001-08:00

A Trip to the store...The Grocery Store!

2009-03-03T02:44:00.001-08:00

It always amazes me that grocery shopping is so expensive. The media tells me that we need to be thin, yet everything to do with losing weight and being healthy costs so much. Yes, I can get a gym membership for $20.00 at Planet Fitness, but then I’d have to drive OUT of my way every day just to get to the gym, and with the economy the way it is, how am I supposed to afford the extras?

I recently went to the grocery store (Bottom Dollar to be exact). It is the cheapest place in town to buy groceries. I got ground beef at $1.79/lb, a can of tuna at $0.65, and a pack of 6 boneless/skinless chicken breasts at $2.27/lb. Don’t get me started on the price of fresh fruit and vegetables. Yes, frozen is better than canned and fresh is better than both, but who really likes the taste of frozen vegetables? Frozen fruit is another matter…who ever heard of fresh frozen fruit? Don’t doctors and health professionals dictate that fresh fruits & vegetables along with whole grain items, and lean meats are what makes up a healthy diet. Well, my extreme pardons to the health professionals, but I can’t afford the foods I need to eat, and I can’t work out enough to make up for the difference. Because I am not cooking for myself alone, I can’t buy double the amount of food, and my grocery bill really can’t be more than $120.00 for a month for two people. Can you imagine what I am able to afford? A few lbs of ground beef, one tray of chicken breasts, a bag of white rice, 5lbs of potatoes, a few boxes of hamburger helper, spaghetti noodles, and sauce. Can’t forget to mention the necessary items such as bar soap, cleaning supplies, dish soap, and the many, many staples such as pickles, mayonnaise, ketchup, vinegar, salt & pepper. Luckily we don’t have to buy those items every month, but when we do, it eats up our food bill like crazy.

I’d love to be able to afford a gym membership, but the one closest to my house costs somewhere around $50.00 a month, then add the cost of the food I should be eating, and I’d be in the poor house. Especially since my husband doesn’t eat vegetables and is relatively picky about his other foods.

Okay - Rant over! Thanks for hanging on until now! Next blog will have a list of exercises that I do at home. Not daily mind you, but if I really wanted to work out, I’ll list the activities I’ve found that I can accomplish in a one bedroom apartment!

Just Me!

10g.2 Cate

2009-03-01T02:46:00.001-08:00

The hotel room in New Delhi wasn’t quite dark due to the bright security lights that had come on outside. The whistle of the watchman woke her again. This time at three-thirty AM. Dogs, some owned some refusing to be owned and nearly feral, barked in chorus to the whistles. There were shouts and the rattle of the watchman’s lathi as he pounded on the metal gate that parted the high cement fence of the neighboring business establishment added to the din. She had been dreaming of mountains, but whether the Rocky and Cascade ranges of the west coast of Canada or the Himalayas of northern India she was unsure. Despite some relatively superficial resemblances, the landscapes were dramatically different to her conscious mind yet in dream she saw only peaks, snow, rock and clouds shrouding the narrow passes.

It was too early to be awake. She shuffled around the hotel room in that middle of the night foggy state of mind that jet lag brings on. She opened and closed the drawers in the bedside table and the desk of the room. She looked out the window several times. She opened the door and peered out into the hall. No one was about. Finally she decided to take one of the sleeping pills she had packed. As she rummaged through the zippered pockets inside her large suitcase she came across an old letter that she had written to Michael years ago. She had meant to send it but now was glad she hadn’t. It was a confession of sorts of an affair she had while they were married.

Get On Your Boots

2009-02-28T03:26:00.001-08:00

No Line on the Horizon is U2’s latest studio album that was just released in Australia today. I’ve been a U2 fan since 1984 when The Joshua Tree won the Grammy for Album of the Year. It was a sad day for me as Michael Jackson (my Idol then) lost out on the award but that was also a dawning of a new day = a new revelation as I was introduced to a 4 man band (2 Catholics and 2 Protestants) from Dublin, Ireland. They were and still are an inspiration to me as their music/lyrics enthused me to begin writing songs and my love journey with the acoustic guitar.

Have you ever had a moment in your life when things looked dim and ugly (at the start) but turned out for the better later? I guess my U2 experience was something just like that, for me. In fact…every day we live can be a moment of awakening and opportunity to Dream, Live and Make the Best out of what we’ve got. I guess we’ve gotta sometimes look at a situation with eyes wide open and with a different/new perspective too!

My “new career” as a Coach has helped me realize what I truly desire to do…that is to “help ordinary people reach their potential and live extraordinarily!” We all have a choice to make…whether we live this life on the inside or get outside the borders of our comfort and complacency.

Every one of us can participate and make an impact in the life we live…if only we step out and Get on Your Boots! The 1st single from U2’s latest album celebrates our Uniqueness and the “Sound” that we make…but it will only make a relevant change in our life and the life of others, when we put on the Boots and Step OUT!

Are you waiting for something to happen or will you say yes and make it happen?

“You don’t know how beautiful you are…Let me in the sound…Meet me in the sound…Get on your boots” - Bono

Wednesday Hero 2/25/09

2009-02-26T02:44:00.001-08:00

Spc. Ross A. McGinnis

19 years old from Knox, Pennsylvania

1st Battalion, 26th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 1st Infantry Division

December 4, 2006

His mission was to patrol the streets of Adhamiyah in northeast Baghdad and find a place to put a 250-kilowatt generator that would provide electricity for more than 100 homes. But it’s a mission he wasn’t able to accomplish.

Shortly after Pfc. McGinnis’s convoy left the compound, and less than a mile from FOB Apache, an insurgent standing on a nearby rooftop threw a grenade into the sixth, and last, Humvee. “Grenade!” yelled McGinnis, who was manning the vehicle’s M2 .50-caliber machine gun. He tried to deflect the grenade but it fell into the Humvee and lodged between the radios.

“McGinnis turned and looked down and realized no one in the truck knew where the grenade was,” said Capt. Michael Baka, his company commander. “He knew everyone had their doors combat-locked and they wouldn’t be able to get out.”

Instead of jumping out of the truck to save his own life, like he had been trained to do, McGinnis threw his back against the radio mount, smothering the explosive with his body. The grenade exploded just as Pfc. McGinnis covered it. The blast filled the vehicle with black smoke and debris and blew the driver’s door and right passenger’s door wide open and blew the machine gun off its mount. The explosion hit McGinnis on his sides and his lower back, under his vest. He was killed instantly.

The other four soldiers in the Humvee suffered relatively minor injuries.

On the morning of December 4, 2006, before his convoy had left, Cpt. Baka has signed a waver promoting Pfc. McGinnis to Specialist and he was posthumously promoted to E-4.

For his heroic actions on that day, McGinnis was awarded the Silver Star and was nominated for a Medal of Honor which he received on June 2, 2008.

All Information Was Found On And Copied From MilitaryCity.com

These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.

We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived

This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. For more information about Wednesday Hero, or if you would like to post it on your site, you can go here.

Medal of Honor - Pfc. Ross McGinnis: Staff Sgt. Ian Newland Interview

2009-02-26T02:43:00.001-08:00

Moonlight

2009-02-22T02:52:00.001-08:00

She now has an ulcer in her lip, and she woke violently at four a.m. to the sound of her roommate’s friends laughing from the Saturday night clubbing, and an incredibly aching pain in her right leg. Her bone felt as if it was stretching out, like the pre-symptoms of an earthquake. She was twenty; there was no way it could have been growth pains. Yet no matter how she straightened or bent her leg the pain would not subside. It persisted for an hour, and she lied in bed sweating, looking out her dark little window for useless help, as if she was in a really painful labour. She thought about the pills. The days. The last time he had sex with her. The last time she decided what to feel and think of it.
But she could not think. Pain of the body is natural, she reminded herself as she held on to the pillowcase as if to ease the pain, it doesn’t mean I’ve been punished for something bad I’ve done. But she failed to convince herself as the pain dragged on.
She thought of him. She felt like sobbing but she was absolutely incapable of it.

What am I doing with myself? And what am I doing with him? How could it be so hard as to just enjoy his friendship and company? Wasn’t she satisfied with that? Why did she have to strut over his wisdom and experience that were brought about utterly by his age alone?

Life is not a race.
She knows that.
He was not put here by fate next to her to taunt her, to mock her. He was put here next to her to teach her, to make her laugh, to let her enjoy more of life itself. He was a blessing even if he had hurt her.
It took her some time to decide and accept that.

She could not have accepted it without changing herself.

It was her fear and jealousy that had blinded her with their venom that she could not see the beauty in him, but had instead taken it for mockery of the cold moonlight.

Pain -- A Bleach AMV

2009-02-22T02:51:00.001-08:00

The Economist Reviews CHINA WITNESS: VOICES FROM A SILENT GENERATION

2009-02-21T03:17:00.001-08:00

Self had an extremely productive day: she walked the li’l crits (first time all week). She washed their beds (which had become veeery hair-y, in fact disgustingly so). She finally got to plant the helleborus “Double Queen” she’d bought from the Mountain View Farmer’s Market in early January. She even found the time to call Dear Cuz and tell her about a dream she’d had two nights ago: In self’s dream, Dear Cuz’s Manila house was finished, and self was visiting. There were many other visitors who self could not identify, and she kept calling son on the phone and trying to get him to come over and join her (which he would not). In the meantime, the Dream Cuz had turned into a demon planter of daffodil bulbs and had dozens of the things in plastic bags, scattered all over her mansion.

After she was done chatting with Cuz, self settled herself on the couch with the latest issue of The Economist. She’d barely begun reading (always starting from the back, from long habit) when she landed in the Book Review section. And after reading a few paragraphs, YOWZA! Self knew she had found the first book of the new year that she can hardly wait to rush out and read!

And, just then, the phone rang. Caller ID said: Unknown Caller. Since this is what it always shows when the caller is a) a solicitor; or b) a relative calling from Manila, self picked up. And the caller was mother-in-law! Who hardly ever calls! And she was trying to get a hold of hubby, who would not be home for another two hours (at least). And mother-in-law wanted hubby’s office number, and self went to her address book and saw a blank next to the listing for Hubby’s Office. Then, she looked up the contacts list on her cell phone, and the number for Hubby’s Office had a 650 area code, which self knew was probably his previous office (two years ago). And then self had to run through her list of “recent calls,” until she finally landed on a number that she thought might be the right one, and by this time she had kept mother-in-law waiting for almost 10 minutes.

So, then!

Back to the Economist book review. Here is how it begins:

Ever since Jung Chang’s 1991 book, Wild Swans, became an international bestseller, writers about China have understood that it is people’s personal stories that bring to life the difficult history of this country. China Witness is a new addition to the genre.
The author, Xinran Xue, who uses the name Xinran as a nom de plume, is an old hand. From 1988 to 1997 she was one of the country’s most popular broadcasters. In a state-run medium dominated by propaganda, she invited women to pick up the telephone and tell their life stories on air. A deluge of personal revelation followed, and the programme earned a huge following. In 1997 Xinran moved to England, where she met and later married Jung Chang’s then literary agent. He encouraged her to write The Good Women of China, a collection of stories based on those radio confessions, that revealed the raw misery of the lives of many women, especially in the countryside.
In China Witness, which was published in Britain last October and is just coming out in America, Xinran turns to the people she terms the “grandparents” of China. She is afraid of what will be lost when those who have lived through China’s modern history inevitably grow old and die. The younger generation knows very little about their elders’ experience, in particular about what they endured and sacrificed in the name of Mao Zedong’s great experiment. Several of Xinran’s interviewees tell her not just that the young do not know about the past, but they do not particularly want to know. Politically sensitive issues are rarely discussed.

Self really itching to read this one.