The Resolutions

It’s that time again… for those who’ve been around the last 11 years, you know the drill, the reason and the tradition. For the many new people in my life in the last year; Valentine’s resolutions came from my reading Armistead Maupin’s “Tales of the City” and cajoling my late friend Rich into following the lead of characters Michael and MaryAnn. Rich died 9 years ago this month; and I keep the only two promises I ever made to him – never go to law school and never take myself too seriously. This list is a result of the latter of those promises… and one I promised myself I would continue to share.

And so, here you have it…

1. I will approach my hair color with the same reckless abandon I do my love life. Given this, I should be bald by July 4.

2. Providing my hair does not fall out by July 4, I will continue to grow it long and wild. I want to be one of those women who are too old to have long hair—but do.

3. There will be beach time this year. I can’t believe I actually have to put that in writing.

4. I will decide what to with my website and blog this year. (And, am open to suggestions.)

5. I will grow daisies on my patio—even if it means a pot for the cats to eat and one for me to enjoy the sight of daisies.

6. Because I believe in personal growth, I will find at least one new favorite book to re-read from now until I go blind, senile and/or deaf.

7. I need to make more time for therapy. To this end, I will arrange for at least a monthly session with my local mall, outlet or boutique.

8. I decidedly need to branch out more—I will experiment with coffees of the world with more frequency.

9. I probably need to drink more—no bottle of rum or vodka should be left untouched in my freezer for months on end. It’s rude.

10. Nothing else, just OCD needing a rounded out, even and lucky number on which to end.

Che - On Demand

Yesterday saw me watching the full four hours of Che, from the comfort of my living room. Che, Part 1, was released not only in theatres recently, but IFC On Demand has released both Part One and Part Two (the latter will be in theatres soon) of the Benicio Del Toro movies based on the life of Che Guevara. Indeed, those who know me know I've been eagerly awaiting these films for some time.

They were worth the wait.

Exquisite and stunningly beautiful; the script was not dumbed down and assumed the viewer had some knowledge of the events. Shot mostly in Spanish with English subtitles it felt closer to real. I've read criticism that Spanish dialogue for a predominantly English speaking audience was unnecessary... I disagree. The language lends to authenticity and understanding; I also think it would have been a disservice to the memory and the ideals of Che to have filmed in English.

Highly recommended.

Resolutions... get outta here!

The holidays have come and gone and I remained successfully hidden from the whole she-bang. All was not just avoiding tinsel and toasts, nor was it a wistful For Auld Lang Syne, rather it was time I could spend indulging in recipe tinkering and catching up on a few movies I missed in the theater (and while they were still new releases on DVD). After a stress-filled period leading into the holidays, the simplicity of the week was a welcome relief. Year 2008 ended with the loss of a grandparent, the loss of my cat of 10 years, a tragic accident by a family member that was picked up by the AP, and yet another birthday. The latter was not without its own drama--which was just my karma of the time. Of course, it will most likely always be remembered as the day my friend concieved in a petrie dish as part of the in vitro process. With any spin of luck, she will give birth on SK's birthday this year.

Of course, every year I have to reiterate to those bubbling with new year optimism that I do not make resolutions. This year is no exception. It does not, however, mean I won't take advantage of the capatalistic propogation of common resolutions... or rather, the sales on fitness equipment and accessories. I finally bought the Gaiam sculpt and tone series I'd been eyeing for months. After a week-long headache, I was finally feeling well enough today to attempt the first disc. All I can say is WOW! My abs can feel it already, and well, the headache is back.

Still 2009 came in quietly and I am hoping it gives some balance back to the universe. Already, I feel like my karma is changing... a new writers group started in the area that isn't devouted to the pursuit of erotica or science fiction or being a mommy... no that there is anything wrong with those things, they just don't apply to me. So, here's hoping this group, with whom I will join tomorrow, will work out for the best because I could use a community of writers in my life again.

Going Postal

Just before my birthday, my parents sent me a present via the United States Post Office. Inside the box were two well packed items--a metal sculpture and in a separate box a ceramic soup bowl. The box was marked fragile. I made a special trip to the Post Office to pick up the box since, well, they just leave notices for boxes here. Upon opening the box, both items were broken.

The receipts were all sent to me (which took a week to come First Class Mail). I made yet another special trip to the Post office (because I had another notice of a package AND I wanted to file my claim for the over $100 in damage to my previous shipment). Upon arrival at the Post Office, and after waiting my turn in line, I was informed that the package did not have insurance and it was not the fault of the Post Office that the items were broken.

It seems the Post Office has made some changes in how they insure packages in as much as they no longer insure anything (excepting Express Mail) for any damages without the purchase of insurance on the package. I, of course, argued (pointlessly) with them. The final parting words they left me with were to the effect that I had them confused with UPS, which automatically insures their packages without additional charge.

Oh really?

As it turns out, this time of year, I had some packages to send (imagine that!). So, I took the advice of my not so friendly Postal employee, and looked into sending my items UPS. Not only did it include insurance on the package, they told me when they would deliver it--actually delivered it on that day (even to rural Northern Michigan)--and did not require anyone to leave their home, drive to a UPS center during limited hours and pick up the package.

Now, I can hear you saying, but what did you have to pay for this kind of service? Well, I did the math. The cost to send a 5 lb package Ground via UPS, with a 2-day delivery from my zone to theirs, with insurance cost $11. Yes, I was a little put off that it included a surcharge for residential delivery, but upon comparing with what the same service would entail from the Post Office (a guaranteed 2-day delivery--which they will not guaranteed), with insurance was just under $11. So, the price is comparable, but the delivery and service isn't. UPS sent me an email as soon as the package was delivered, I was able to drop the packages off after work and it did not impact when the package was delivered. Further, I didn't have to leave work in the middle of the day to ship the packages (they would have been too big for self-service at the Post Office).

Oh, and it you want a guarenteed delivery, the Post Office will get at least twice the amount that I paid to UPS.

Oh, and nothing sent was in any way damaged. The soup pot my mom sent she resent to me in the same packaging that UPS had shipped it to her in and the Post Office broke every single piece in the box. Besides, did I mention they broke a METAL sculpture--do you realize what it takes to break something like that?

So folks... don't take my word... the Post Office gave me the advice themselves... use UPS for your packages.

Pastafarian Cat Toys

Yesterday, while grocery shopping at Giant, I came across the cat toy pictured to the right. To the unsuspecting eye, this is just a octopi-esque cat toy, but to those of us with a keener sensibility, it is quite obviously the likeness of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. And, as it well documented (if in this blog only), cats and the FSM have quite a symbiotic relationship.

And how did my boys react to their own "Flying 'Masegetti"? Well, Jake was indifferent, Vinnie poked at it suspiciously, but Bowie pounced the hell out of it and attempted to rip it to shreds.

A Birthday Present? Che Opens this week

The International Herald Tribune reviewed movie Che opening next weekend. The movie chronicles the life of Che Guevara during the overthrow of Batista in Cuba. There is a second movie due that depicts Che's life and death in Bolivia several years later. While the IHT doesn't seem to care much for the movie that earned its star and champion Benicio del Toro the Cannes award for best international actor - male earlier this year their review is an interesting commentary on movies about revolutions in general. Particularly, I like the following from the review/summary:

Che Guevara was literally the embodiment of the romantic notion that unyielding dedication and unceasing struggle could achieve the liberation of all the world's oppressed, and this is such an attractive idea that one may prefer not to dwell on his humorlessness, his rigidity, his icy ruthlessness. Most revolutions are necessary, most end up betraying the ideals they claimed to represent, and most revolutionaries are at least mildly sociopathic. "Revolutions attract crazies; it's a well-known fact," the French leftist filmmaker Chris Marker says in his brilliant documentary essay "The Last Bolshevik" (1993). But he says it sort of tenderly.
...
"The Last Bolshevik" is about the power of images to reveal and to lie, and about the insidious effect of images on those who make them, whether innocently (as Medvedkin mostly did) or more calculatingly. Sometimes in a revolution, it can be hard to tell the difference.

Nonetheless, I can't wait to see this movie. Indeed, I've been waiting a long time.

A question of Mensa

Yesterday, while driving behind one annoying car I noticed at the stop light two bumper stickers on this hideous green insect looking car... one was an anti-abortion sticker that frankly defied the parameters of logic*. Next to this sticker was one pronouncing a membership to Mensa.

Immediately, I texted Lauren to find out if it was acceptable to rear-end a car simply because of the Mensa sticker. She assured me that it would be, and further being that they were Mensa, they should completely understand.

Somehow, I doubted that.

What you might wonder is my objection to this group? Simply put, I cannot stand the pretentious superiority they carry among themselves--touting IQ as something to be lauded over others. There was a time I actually considered joining their ranks, but it seemed so exclusionary. The only thing I had in common with any of them was my ability to do well on a test. I realize that it's a networking thing like so many other things--a fraternity of sorts--and despite my own pledging and membership to a fraternity previously, I couldn't swallow this particular group.

Then, LiveScience pointed me to an article I had somewhat forgot about in its feature today: Is Einstein the Last Great Genius? It is their article from a couple years ago reminding us that geniuses are just like us...

Albert Einstein, who came up with the theories of special and general relativity, enjoyed the company of other women while he was married. His second wife was his first cousin. He lived with her for five years before divorcing his first wife with whom he had a child before they were married.

Or, maybe, not?

There is a lot wrong with the approach LiveScience takes assuming genius also takes on a moral compass in line with popular belief. Clearly, the Mensa idiot in front of me yesterday couldn't figure out what the lines on the road were for, how to use a turn signal or that green actually does mean GO!

It does make me want to read even more, however, Malcom Gladwell's latest book, Outliers: The Story of Success. Because even as LiveScience articles point out, genius is as much about opportunity and nurture as it is nature.

*Bear in mind that most of the time I can accept the premise that anti-abortionists carry (even if I happen to disagree), but bad logic is far more annoying to me.

Why South Carolina ought secede again?

As I watched the ongoing news on Mumbai this weekend, I couldn't help but notice that on Black Friday a news note scrolling across the bottom of CNN to the effect that South Carolina was offering sales-tax free gun sales as part of their Second Amendment Sale. I'm not an anti-gun person; I'm not even anti-hunting... but I am pro-gun control. Yes, I believe you have the right to own a gun... providing that you pass a criminal background check and can prove you have the requisite knowledge to own a gun.

There are some that would argue this violates the spirit of the Second Amendment. I would argue that it in no way violates the spirit of the Second Amendment than restrictions put into place on free speech violate the First Amendment.

And still, as I watch with horror the violence across this nation and indeed across the world this weekend and everyday, I can't help but remind myself, this is not about the guns... for in those places where guns are not available, people are using machetes, rocks and sticks to maim and kill each other. This isn't about guns, it is about people and our capacity for violence... and even with that admission, I don't think it wise, clever or right to promote the sale of firearms without sales tax... or to promote the sale of firearms in general.

Of course, when the mentality is to stampede someone to death at a WalMart (which seems to happen every year) over cheap goods made by child labor in a communist country, the promotion of firearms seems to make as much sense. For more on the WalMart issue, please visit the Huffington Post where Anita Thompson has done a marvelous job of the topic.

Making sense of Mumbai

She writes, as if it were possible... but in my intellectualizing world, it is what I do. Blathering on and on in an effort to convince myself, if not those around me, that these kinds of situations should be used to understand our differences, bring together people and though scary be the ignition for hope and change rather than fear and digging in our heels to a paradigm that can't ever shift.

Yesterday, I saw a woman posting a comment about the deaths of some U.S. citizens in Mumbai... she was eloquent and logical in her prose about the situation until she suddenly turned from complete sentences and thoughts to an all CAPS tyraid on how Muslim Extremists should follow the Ten Commandments. Surreal.

Surreal also is how I learned of the situation, which is still on going as I write. Once again, at the gym, with Cat Stevens' Peace Train playing on my iPod and CNN on without sound I see the breaking news and footage that followed. It was only a few months ago that I was listening to Peace Train and inspired that our now President-Elect could actually be the One to bring the needed revolution to this country.

The irony is not lost on me... the music of a man who converted to Islam, singing his messages of peace--who had his albums steamrolled and burned in the streets of America. Which, by the way, was wrong. But, it leads me back to the paradigm in this country--the one in which people are afraid of Muslims. But like most fears, it makes no sense. Islam is no more a violent philosophy than Christianity... it is what people choose to do with their beliefs and interpretations of them. I can assure you I am far more afeared of those who are Christian in this country acting out their messages of hatred and intolerance in the name of their God than I am of potential terrorist cells.

For all our technologies and all our "advancements" we are no more civilized a society than times dating back thousands of years. We still revert to killing those that don't agree with us--and some who do--just to be sure. And while I am still hoping for a revolution, know that I think and therefore expect something other than guns and armor to win this battle ahead.

So, some stuff has happened....

It's been over a month since I last posted. Times have been busy for dear ol' Nikki and writing has taken an unfortunate backseat. I'm hoping with some time off on the horizon, I might be able to get back into my mojo--or something.

I know you didn't come here for the breaking news. It's been some interesting weeks after the election. The fear that was bound to come over our president-elects safety has gripped many of his enthusiastic supporters and the economy is teetering on a deflationary spiral, which should be far more scary to people--but all I hear is "Bout time the gas prices went down!"

Despite all these things, there were some moments from election day/night that were moving, exciting and moved many to tears of joy. For the first time, there was hopefulness; perhaps some of it was blindly so, but in light of our history, it was monumental. The spontaneous gatherings--and peacefully so--were amazing. It was touching to see the 105 year old African American woman make it to the voting booth and left with her I Voted Button... that it was so touching is a true testament to the battles she alone fought and witnessed in her life. There are other things I won't soon ever forget:

--Jon Stewart's live announcement that the election had been called for Obama. (Yes, I was watching Comedy Central).
--the vision of Jesse Jackson with tears streaming down his face.
--Obama's acceptance speech, likewise, I found McCain's concession speech quite memorable.
--the pictures of the celebratory gatherings outside the White House.
--the text message from a friend that "God bless the United States of Kick Ass. Finally!"
--the Philadelphia news the next morning showing police celebrating in the streets.

Finally, because it is something so very close to my own realm of understanding...
The numerous reports out of Minneapolis from the Bob Dylan show in which during his encore, Dylan stopped, introduced the band, and after mentioning the Obama button his bandmate was wearing and said the following, "I was born in 1941 -- Pearl Harbor. Things have been in darkness ever since. Things are going to change." After which he launched into a rare encore performance of Blowin' in the Wind.

Dylan has always just let his music stand as it is, Friday was no different in New York. And as it is no different, people will try to find the message... and the answer my friend is blowin in the wind, the answer is blowin in the wind.

1963:
I have a dream...
Only a Pawn in their Game

2008:
Tonight is your answer...
Blowin in the Wind

Say what you will. Some people, they have seen a lot--maybe it means something, maybe it doesn't, but it is there... and the experiences I can only imagine and admire with awe. Either way, things are bound to happen, they always do.

The Breakdancin' Rabbi--My Yearly Colombus Day Rant

Today, on the usual coffee run, I think Lauren spelled it all out for me and what's been going on: I've reached that complete washed over feeling of hopelessness. And it is true, in so many aspects of life right now. In a country where I--a lifelong feminist (humanist)--am regarded as sexist because I think the choice of Sarah Palin for the Republican Vice Presidential ticket was foolish and in no way an advancement for women, where else does one take these feelings? In a country where the undertones (and overtones) of racism and religious bigotry runs amok... what's next? In a country where my 401k tanked inside of a week, we have a campaign that is focusing on non-issues, what the fuck?

We would all be better off a country if instead of pretending we weren't bigoted in some fashion, we just owned up to our faults, took accountability for our actions and worked on the whole instead of the "mes" and really discussed the good, the bad and the hideously revolting.

Why don't we?

Because we live in two Americas--yep, that's right, two... the ones that believe spam emails are reliable sources of news because someone said they looked at snopes.com and the ones that delete them.

And what does this have to do with a breakdancing Rabbi and Colombus Day?

Good question.

We "celebrate" a holiday today in honour of a man who gets all the credit for discovering the Americas... apparently, we were lost. It brings honour and recognition to the European colonization of the Americas while at the same time further denying the long history of manifest destiny that has destroyed cultures and histories of the indigenous. No doubt an abundence of children were misfeed history today.

On a side note, I was pleased to learn that Venezuelan Presidente Hugo Chavez changed the paradigm of the holiday back in 2002: changing it to Día de la Resistencia Indígena (Day of Indigenous Resistance). Bravo Chavez!

Which leads me to the breakdancing Rabbi... in Lauren and my extended conversation about bigotry, misunderstanding and hopelessness, we came about to the holidays... and how certain holidays get preference and acceptance. Discussion on how we get Christmas off but not Chanukah, and that lead to her pointing out that means 8 days of dancing and spinning a dreidel with no time off from work. And in the course of this meandering conversation, the end result was my determination that the Jews came up with breakdancing.

Factually, that is grossly inaccurate by all accounts I can find and was previously aware of... in the moment, however, it was hysterically funny. And just because I came across this video of a seemingly nice Hassidic Jewish guy breakdancing, I felt the need to share.

October hath arrived...

...let us usher in the apple picking season officially! I say officially because this weekend found me picking apples. Driving all over NJ. Walking all over Midtown Manhattan. Shopping all over the greater Philadelphia area. Watching an abhorrently ridiculous VP debate. And visiting with my parents.

And now the week finds me catching up on insane numbers of emails and meetings... oh my, the meetings! I'm looking forward to a weekend to get some rest.

In the meantime, I am enjoying my 100th or so viewing of the Sex and the City Movie and for better or worse, eating a third of the days calories in chocolate. It is certainly less painful than watching the endless talking heads related to the economic crisis, the punditry and anything with Palin talking. It has been a long time since that kind of moronic construct has entered the political stratosphere... and I say that in full acknowledgement of the last 8 years of tyranny. Palin puts to shame even the legacy of Dan Quayle.

And now, I am off, to continue watching my movie, to do some writing and to prepare a tasty non-chocolate snack.

The great debate, part 1

Now, there is a lot of chatter among peoples about the debate this last Friday... who won and on what issues? Depending on the camp the story changes. So, I thought it was only appropriate to put my two cents in on the issue of utmost importance.

I don't know what McCain's advisors were thinking, perhaps a mechanism to keep him alert and awake when his head nodded down, but he came away the biggest fashion loser of this debate.

Check out the tie, which is so red, white and blue busy that it doesn't even photograph right. Frankly, it also accentuates his age, because not only does it emphasize the comb over and stodginess, it looks circa 1947.

An while this photo does neither justice, Obama's fashionability clearly surpasses that of McCain; and that is clearly a significant factor when selecting your next president. It shows a lot more than one migght think... this is, after all, the biggest job interview of them all...

Latte thinking

It has been a while since I blogged on the subject of living with an eating disorder, and as I was walking through the grocery store today, feeling somewhat empowered (and skinny) for not having eaten and drinking only a latte (nonfat, of course) in the last 20 or so hours and calculating the calories from yesterday... that it was indeed time, again. Why? Because I need to write and this is one of the prominent thoughts pre-occupying my mind.

I rationalized the logic in the car home; I haven't worked out in a week, I ate cheese yesterday and *gasp* bread. But I know it isn't really logic... and I know I'm using the absence of food like a drug--the rush of the control to a control-freak is a tempting morsel to not eat. The signs were there early this week... travel to Minneapolis and the fastidious calorie counting that begins the moment I have to set foot in an airport. No longer do I suffer from the fear of flying that used to cause dreams of planes falling from the clouds that held them up... oh no, that has long since been replaced by other, more terrifying notions--like dining out. I didn't do too badly, by comparison to my trip last month to the Land of a Million Lakes... and though there was a moment of panic when my salad arrived sans dressing on the side, but dripping from the leaves of lettuce on the plate before me, I held it together and ate the salad--dressing and all.

By end of the week, I embraced my food fears and ordered a grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch. My bowing to the mercy of a long-time comfort food in the face of a week of high stress was inevitable... as was the feeling to follow.

I joked with a colleague on Friday that a heavily populated meeting schedule (especially) during the noon hour was my key diet strategy, but the reality is that it only serves to piss me off if there is no time for a coffee run. I have a real relationship with the trio who serve me coffee nearly everyday of the week... despite the fact that they barely speak English and despite my ordering the same thing almost every day for the last year, never know what I want... it's a special bond.

Last weekend was my one year anniversary in PA, and I love it. But I started thinking, it is also nearly that two year marker since I was practically forced into therapy... though I have continued on my own (one of these days, it will be fashionable again--or did it never lose its chic?). I'd like to think I've made some progress--even on days like this when my anxiety it high, my head feels like it will come off my shoulders and food is an enemy to be watched with a keen eye.... it's good to know I'm not alone, it will get better and I can at least recognize what I'm doing--even if I am not ready to be brave enough to take that next step.

Zim and Eugene

A former colleague asked me to spread the word... Zim and Eugene is quite a funny web cartoon. Enjoy!

Blessed Workouts?

When is a water-stained ceiling tile not just a water stained ceiling tile? When a woman in a weight loss center in Kansas sees Jesus in it. Guess we will be seeing it on eBay soon... I'd make some kind of snarky comment about faith, capitalism and all that, but it would be too obvious.