Strange Is Good

It's 10pm in Hong Kong, and I really should be going to bed since I have another jam-packed day of looking at jewelry ahead of me tomorrow. (you know, it's amazing how much BLING can fit into one convention hall, it really is)....but I'm not going to bed at the moment.

What AM I doing you ask? Well, besides downloading the latest episode of Heroes to watch on the flight from Tokyo-- I'm looking at other people's blogs to see what other people have been doing and thinking while I've been gone. It's weird that I would think the world at home would just kind of stop when I'm not there......and I don't. Not really. (Ok, I do a little....sue me) But travelling really does feel like a weird sort of time warp to me most of the time. Things that happen here seem so seperate in a lot of ways from things that happen at home....from the people that are at home. I'm rambling....and I am aware that I sound like I've been up to all kinds of shennanigans or something-- which I haven't....(I'm saving the shennanigans for Ireland, it just sounds more appropriate, don't you think?).

I don't even really know what I'm trying to say. But I told people I would update and I haven't-- so now you are just getting a stream of consciousness (is that how you spell that? I'm too tired to check it) entry that makes little to no sense.

You're ever so welcome.

Let's try this:

10 Things About My Trip You Don't Yet Know

1. I had an amazingly cool plane ride from Prague to Paris featuring a fascinating conversation with my seat mate (who was not Jini)

2. I do not enjoy the bacon at the JW Marriott, Hong Kong

3. I got to shop at the H&M in Prague and had a good time doing it

4. The Mucha Museum in incredibly small

5. When people scan my passport, they sometimes get information about an Indian man. This can be problematic and confusing.

6. At the risk of sounding like a bitter old hag, I have developed a philosophy that includes this thought: Schmoopy couples that are in love should not be allowed to walk hand in hand along the street or the MTR tunnel or the hotel hallway if they are not able to walk at a normal pace while doing so. Your need for togetherness should not hinder my ability to get where I'm going faster than a snail.

7. I've now actually been to and used an airpot that only opens for a couple of hours in the morning and a couple of hours in the afternoon...and when you land, they just let you out on the tarmac and point you towards the building.

8. BMW 7-series vehicles have an absurd amount of leg room. I recommend them for all wealthy and tall people I know

9. I had my first McDonalds cheeseburger today in a year and a half.

10. I think there might be NBA players staying at my hotel. That, or I just have a need to stereotype freakishly tall men in their 20s who wear lots of Nike gear. It's a toss up.

Food For Thought

This was my gmail quote of the day, and it amused me. So now I am sharing:


"Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid."
~Hedy Lamarr~

The Tipping Point

Something that has become increasingly apparent in my life lately is how much the process of tipping people stresses me out. I don't object to it on moral grounds. I'm not cheap. I don't mind tipping someone when I know it's built into the equation, they've offered good service, yada yada yada.

So what stresses me out about it, you ask? Two things:

1. I resent it when it's not my choice. If I go to a hotel and choose to let the little guy in the lobby take my bags up to my room, of course I owe him a tip. But if I choose to take my bags up on my own (because honestly that's my preference....I don't enjoy a parade of hotel workers leading me to my room when I'm tired and jet lagged)....I don't want to get a disapproving look as if I've robbed you of your nightly wage. Same thing with Sonic. I'd be happy to go in and get my food, but that's not an option. So why am I expected to tip the guy or girl that brings it out? I don't tip the drive through person at McDonald's, you know. What's the difference?

2. I don't know how much to tip people! Some of us can't do math quickly in our heads.....so I panic and either drastically under tip or completely overtip (depending on my mood). Sure 10% is easy enough to process......but that's too little. Is 15% OK? Or is that considered cheapo now too? And as if doing this in dollars wasn't enough to discombobulate me, now I have to do it in multiple currencies while travelling for work! Do you have any idea what it does to my brain to try and convert currency in my head while also trying to figure out the correct amount to tip the taxi driver vs the dude that was standing there and loaded your bag in the trunk? (Please see #1 in regards to this dude. I don't mind loading it myself, you didn't give me a choice, so I am annoyed that I must pay you for a service I didn't ask you to perform. It's like going into an Arby's only to have someone meet you at the front door and insist on ordering for you and then expecting to be paid for offering you the convenience you didn't want in the first place)

My question is: anyone have any advice to help me overcome this challenge?

Do I Get A Reward For Two In One Day?

So I spent most of my free time today working on jewelry designs, and as has become my habit of late, I was listening to my iPod on "shuffle". This is always entertaining when it goes on for hours due to several reasons:

1. There are no songs on my iPod that I didn't put there myself, and yet I always wind up with multiple songs that leave me wondering "Who is THAT?" I blame iTunes and their free weekly downloads.

2. There are no songs on my iPod that I didn't put there myself, and yet I always wind up with multiple songs that I HATE, have no idea why they are on my computer, swear I'm going to remove them immediately and then promptly forget about until the next time I'm making jewelry.

3. Musical whiplash is a frequent happening as going from the Andrew Sisters to The Offspring to the score of Schindler's List is not unlikely.

4. I rediscover songs that I've forgotten that I love (I know, I know....can you really forget something if you love it? That's a post for another day when I'm feeling a bit deeper....)

What brings us together today, however, is my desire to share with you some songs that I think you should give a listen to-- at least once. I know I can't make you love them as much as I do....afterall, songs are like books: one person's revelation is another person's annoyance. But you should at least give them a try.

So without further ado, I present February's List Of Songs I Love

(wait, I lied-- I do have one more ado: I don't think these songs have anything terribly objectionable...but I make no promises. It's music, people, No Getting Offended!) :-)

1. Shadow Boxer (Fiona Apple)
*I know some of you are rolling your eyes right now....but the woman's got some great beats and even better lyrics. Yes, she is odd in concert, this is true. But still. "Once my lover, now my friend. What a cunning way to condescend." I love that line. I really, really do.

2. Airport Song (Guster)
*I've had an irrational love of this song for nearly 3 years now. So sinister and so dang catchy! "You'll Be Selling Books At The Airport"!

3. Bei Mir Bist Du Schön (The Andrews Sisters)
*I grew up in the 80s, so it doesn't quite make sense that these ladies take me back to my childhood, but they do. And I defy you to listen to this song and not be singing along by the second verse.

4. On Your Porch (The Format)
*I will never, ever get sick of listening to this song. I love it. A great song about family. "And if you fail, well then you fail...but not to us"

5. Arms of a Woman (Amos Lee)
*Another one that is impossible not to sing with feeling, despite the fact that I'm not personaly looking to be at ease in the arms of a woman.....

6. I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You (Colin Hay)
*Erin loves this song. I'm just copying her.

7. Say Hello, Wave Goodbye (David Gray)
*"You and I had to be the standing joke of the year"

8. Sweet Dreams (Eurythmics)
*Until this afternoon, I forgot how much this song entertains me

9. Ada Plays (Gabriel Yared- Cold Mountain Score)
*Just a gorgeous piece of music...makes me wish I'd never quit piano because I was "so busy" as a 3rd grader.

10. Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap)
*Weird in a totally wonderful way.

It Seemed Fitting

This quote from Helen Keller was used in the lesson this morning, and it was so fitting given the last post, I had to add it:

"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.... Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

Helen Keller, The Open Door (1957)


I don't know if I agree or not, but I thought it was interesting.

The Intoxication of Security

I've been thinking a lot this week about the comfort zones we create for ourselves and the lengths we go to to preserve them. We can go days, weeks, or even years without even being aware of the corners we back ourselves into....and then all it takes is one tiny thing that sits just out of reach of that zone....one tiny thing that catches your eye for inexplicable reasons (or perfectly logical ones) and suddenly all you can see are the walls that you built ever so carefully because they are what is keeping you from reaching that one tiny thing.

A safe life may be long, but it is rather dull.

Another Reason Apple Rocks

Somehow my iPod lives.

Apparently, he just needed a little time overnight to gather his wits about him. He has now been christened Amerigo because of his soggy journey.

Proof That TODAY Was Out To Get Me In Teeny Tiny Ways From The Start

1. Something told me this morning not to get out of bed TODAY. I had to argue with that something for quite some time before I DID get out bed. Something, I owe you an apology. You were right.

2. I had to go to the dentist

3. I had to wait an extra half hour at the dentist because the man in front of me was rear-ended on his way (I know what you are thinking. Surely THAT is the man who had a bad day, not you. My response to that is that I said "teeny tiny" ways....OK?!)

4. A thousand little and big things went wrong at work that I would gladly go into into great detail about, except that it's still TODAY for another few hours and with the way that TODAY is going, someone from work would see it and email it to everyone else I work with.

5. And last but certainly not least....I was leaving the house to go work out tonight (since I didn't go do it this morning as planned since I was arguing with "something"), and I was opening the door to the garage when I heard my load of laundry finish. I almost kept going, but I thought "No. I'll be productive and move them to the washer and get the next load started". (This may not seem important....but just be patient). So, I start the next load and go to the gym. Upon arriving at the gym, I realize that my new iPod Shuffle is not in my gym bag as usual. I had it the night before, but now it's gone. I look at lost and found with no luck.....do my workout (which I wind up cutting shorter than usual since I'm too annoyed about where my iPod could be to concentrate). I get home only to discover that yes.... I had just WASHED my new iPod. It's very clean now, and very dead. According to various websites I've read now, this isn't necessarily a fatal thing. But everyone agrees that the most important thing is to NOT PLUG IT IN RIGHT AWAY. I bet you can't guess what the first thing I did was, can you?


Looking over this list, you might conclude that I am being massively whiney about a day that wasn't all that bad in actuality. But you know what? Attitude is everything-- and I have a terrible one today. So there you go.

A Rambling Question With No Real Answers

I've been thinking lately about how different people are when it comes to letting others into their lives. How do we pick the people we let in? There's no automatic default when it comes to something like that-- even family is ultimately subject to whatever "test" we've come up with to determine whom we trust with our thoughts, time, words, worries..... the list goes on and on. And just because you love someone doesn't mean you let them in. I have some friends who view their parents as good friends...and others who view them as the people who happened to raise them but could never possibly understand them. Some people can't imagine life without their siblngs and others see them as a stranger they happen to share DNA with.

So why do we let certain people in while keeping others at bay? Is it an instinctual thing? Is it a checklist we go through without even realizing it? I've been trying to understand why I trust certain people immediately while others have to earn it....and why even after some people prove over and over that they DON'T deserve it, I still have the impulse to extend it anyway. Or maybe my real question is why do I WANT to trust some people even when they've proven I shouldn't? Part of me thinks that it is a refusal to accept what I don't want to be true. We rationalize behavior we can't understand to try and turn it into something relatable.....maybe so that we don't have to believe that we misplaced our trust in the first place. Mistakes are hard enough to accept, let alone if the mistake is a person.

A History of Intimidation

Laurie's comment on the last post made me laugh and then think "That's a post title if ever I heard one!".

So the question is- do I have a history of intimidating people? The short answer is, I don't know. But a short answer does not a good post make. So how about the long one?

For as long as I can remember, I've been told that I initimidate people, but I've never been quite clear why. I'm also not exactly sure if it's true. I think more often than not, the comment has come from the people who love me trying to explain away the people who don't--- so you see why the source of information might be problematic.

So what are some possible instances of intimidation?

*A girl at church camp who apparently hated me for years because she thought I hated her. She was assigned to be my cabin-mate secret sister for the day and decided to write me a note talking about how much she had hated me for years and talked about me behind my back. She went on to discuss how much she knew I hated her and obviously talked about her behind her back as well. She then declared that she was "willing to bury the hatchet, and not in your head". The best part? Before that day, I had no idea who that girl was that had apparently spent years thinking we were in the midst of a mega grudge.

*A girl in college who hadn't liked me for years who finally admitted that when she met me I seemed "popular and unapproachable". The sad part? I didn't tell her this, but I found it rather amusing and slightly flattering. I know. It was terribly, terribly wrong of me. But it was just such a novelty to be considered popular!

Ultimately, I don't know that intimidation was so much the problem in either of those instances as the girls just really didn't LIKE me. Is that the same thing? It seems like if I believe that these things happen because I'm "intimidating" it's just another way of saying that people have a problem with me because I'm just SO AWESOME. And that thought just makes me laugh....not to mention that it seems like a major cop-out.

As for the specific case in question......do I intimidate the eye-avoider? I don't think so. It's been suggested by a coworker that she might have a problem with my weight loss-- but again, that seems like a stupid reason to stop acknowledging the existence of someone.

The Eye Avoiders

There's a woman at work that I'm convinced doesn't like me. We'll call her "Tina". For the past two weeks, I've been trying everything I can (short of actually, you know, talking to her) to get "Tina" to look at me, to smile, to acknowledge my presense in some way as we pass each other in the hallway. This happens at least three times a day, if not more. Every time I come within a 4 foor radius, though, her head automatically ducks to the floor as if I'm Medusa and can turn her to stone if she looks too closely.

Now I know what your thinking: Maybe she's just shy. But you know what? That is NOT IT. I see her talking to other people all the time. I checked with my office mate today, and she said that "Tina" is always super nice and friendly. FRIENDLY! So what have I done? I can't figure it out.

The other strange factor is this: she's been at this job for at least as long as I have. And I don't know what made me all of a sudden notice her ability to ignore me. Has she been doing this for four years, and I just never noticed? And if so-- why did I suddenly notice now? And why do I care? I don't find this person particularly interesting. I don't know that I'm missing much from a lack of "hello" from her since I get it from 50 other people I don't know everyday. Plus, I'd much rather glide through the halls unnoticed than prance down the corridor holding court like some people do. So why her? I don't know.

It's just weird. There are a lot of people who would probably be justified in not liking me at work for some very good reasons. "Tina", however, is NOT one of them. We work at a friendly place, dang it, and she is NOT being friendly. She's being shifty and I want to know why.

And so I will continue my passive aggressive eye contact game in the hopes that one day I will make her LOOK AT ME. Of course, now I don't know if I want to smile once she does.

All Cooped Up

We're in the midst of the "great ice storm of 2007" here, and while it's not quite the armageddon situation the weather men seemed prepared for, I have been cooped up in the house for most of the last two days. I woke up this morning with the grand plan of cleaning out my room in a major way. However, this great "event" quickly digressed into me spending the afternoon doing two things:

1. Throwing away yarn I will never, ever get around to making into anything

and

2. Discovering yet more scraps of paper with scribbles on them. I know I've mentioned my strange need to cover random pieces of paper with random thoughts, half-told stories (oh, who am I kidding? I've never gotten half way through one of those stories), and mutterings that I can't bring myself to dignify with the word "poetry" (which sounds ever so grand). I suppose it speaks of a terrible self-absorption that I can spend an afternoon getting lost in reading my own scribbles, but it always fascinates and amuses me to read them. Half of the time, I don't remember what spurred the words in the first place. I say all of this as a warning because I have two "scribbles" I'm going to share....

My main reason for doing this is that I suspect Laurie might enjoy reading them (she likes to humor my pretentions at "writing"...and I owe her a thank you for the book she sent me.....I have begun reading by the way, and am once again swept away by envy at another person's ability with words).



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I used to believe that there comes a point in every life when a decision gets made that forever changes who you are. But I've since realized that point comes every day. Like it or not, you expose yourself time after time with the people you ignore, the choices you refuse to make, and the words you don't say.

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*******

If we're only ever around people that make us happy, then we can never know a big part of ourselves. If no one ever asked me a stupid question, would I have ever discovered the joys of sarcasm? If no one ever told me a lie, would I have learned to watch people's expressions? If no one ever tried to outsmart me, would I have ever learned to play the airhead?

Without dumb people with their dumb questions, without mean people with their mean words, without selfish people and their thoughtless lives, I would have fewer forehead wrinkles from raising my eyebrows, I would have a lot less to complain about, I would have fewer people to blame my own mistakes on, I would have no sense of humor, no sense of self, and no real worries. My work would take less time, I'd be a lot more bored, and I'd have crows feet from smiling all of the time in between my yawns. Life would be simple. Life would be dull. And I'd have no one to make me feel nice, smart, caring, and generally superior in comparison.

Most importantly, I never would have learned to roll my eyes, and I think we can all agree that would make me unrecognizable.

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As Seen On Laurie's Blog

You Are An INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

What's Your Personality Type?

An English Major's Confession

I alluded to this in an earlier post, but I haven't been reading much lately. It's a very strange thing to admit because reading has always been such a constant in my life. I've really begun to realize lately, though, that it's not just a matter of it being something I've always enjoyed doing. In a strange way, it really is a vital part of how I perceive myself and how the people who know me perceive me. Sarah loves to read. This is a fundamental in getting to know me.

But lately, I've started to wonder, how can someone who reads as little as I do these days count themselves as a book lover? Is reading the only thing that makes you one? I hope not, because that would mean that for the past year or so I've been a great big faker.

But you know, I don't just love books because of what they say. I love how they look-- be it old ones or new ones. I love how they smell (most of them, at any rate). I love the quiet atmosphere of book stores and all of the possibility of ideas that you know is just sitting there on the shelf. I love the weight of a leather bound book in my hand. I love the way you can guess things about people by the books on their coffee table or bookshelf (including whether or not the books were put out to "impress"). I love that a person's interest in books gives you an instant insight into their personality. I love what people accidentally reveal about themselves through the books they read at the airport. I love giving a book I really love to someone else and then getting nervous as if I've handed them my child until I know whether or not they will love it like I do. I love imagining where really old books used to live.

I love books. Now I just need to find one to read.

3 Decades

Last time I was at my parent's house, I grabbed all four of my high school yearbooks out of my closet and brought them home with me. Reading them (or the comments within them) was both hilarious and depressing. Hilarious because of the truly random and odd things I chose to stick in the yearbooks for safe keeping. Depressing because of how difficult it is to relate to the person that these books belonged to.

If you were to ask me, I would have told you that I feel like I know who I was when I was 16. My memories seem real and comfortable. But the problem with memories is that they age with you as you grow older and become no more reliable than......(Ok, I've literally been sitting here staring at my screen for 5 minutes now trying to think of something really unreliable to use there and nothing is coming to mind. I'm drawing a complete blank....) well, something no more reliable than something REALLY unreliable.

Anyhoo.

Looking at the yearbooks, I'm hit with fairly solid proof that people and things weren't exactly as I recall them now. The nuances that the years have stripped away return. Not completely, of course....too many years have gone by for that. But it's more about the shadow of them, I guess. Just enough to remind me that there was so much more there than I've remembered.

And it makes me wonder if 10 years from now I'll be a stranger to myself once again. If I'll look back on these scribbles and have to work to remember how that girl felt...how she dealt with the world......how she remembers the world.

And A Happy New Year To All

I was told that someone was sick of looking at my previous entry and that I needed to get someone new on here. Good thing my best friend's not a nag or anything!

I'll tell you what I told her-- it's not that I haven't been writing lately, because I actually have been writing more in the last few weeks than in all of the previous 6 months. But as usual, I'm writing as a way to process things (this will come to a surprise to exactly none of the 6 people who read this blog!)....and I can't process things very well when I know I'm just making people curoius about WHAT I'm thinking about. Sometimes I'm happy to share and sometimes I'm not.

I wish I could write blog entries like Laurie's. They are always so well written and thought provoking......that girl's mind is ALWAYS going and I love it. (Should I have said "woman" there? Katie is sure to tell me......at least I didn't say "chick"!). Anyway, I'm not going to share the topic of the biggest chunk of thoughts in my head the last week or so, but just so that the aforementioned someone doesn't have to look at "Thoughts at the end of Week 1" anymore..... (I'm teasing. I love that you still check. Really. It's very optimistic of you!).....here are a few of my thoughts over the past week:

*I remember virtually nothing about Gerald Ford. I remember learning virtually nothing about Gerald Ford in all of my years of public and private education. Yet I still found myself oddly touched by all of the flags at half mast. This leads me to believe it's the actual symbol I'm touched by as opposed to the person it honors. Funny how we can be uneffected by something in our heads, but we still feel that instinctual tightening of the chest anyway.

* Celebrity really is a tragic thing 99% of the time.

*You know a friendship is dead when you want to ask a person "What are you DOING?" but either can't or won't.

*Infant baptism is a very strange concept. Why would anyone think they could make that decision on behalf of someone else?

*I don't read enough anymore.

*In general, humanity is completely obsessed with how awesome we think we are. Every countdown VH1 has ever created is a perfect example of this.

*I know what I said above-- but my new iPod Shuffle really is awesome. (And I don't know when I went back to 1993 and started using the word "awesome" again.)

*I'm kind of sad to see 2006 go. As far as a time of life changes go-- it was a big one.

Thoughts At Then End of Week One

As of tomorrow I will have been gone for one week. Tonight we are in Shenzhen (I think-- I've been having some "what day of the week is it?" and "what town am I in?" orientation problems)....so in honor of my one week anniversary with China, I offer you....

Thoughts and Observations, Part One

1. I like China much MUCH better the second time around but I don't know if it has anything to do with the actual country. I'm having a great time but I can't decide if it because of the novelty of the "first class"ness of the trip or not. Surely that has something to do with it....but it is interesting how much your mind-set can change your experience in a country. That being said, I'd hate to think that I'm a snob or that I can be bought, but apparently that's not true. I can be bought-- for the price of one first class ticket and a 5 star hotel. :-)

2. I have a completely awesome job. If this is what being a grown up is about, I can totally get behind that. (good thing I decided that before I turned 30, huh?)

3. Technology and electronics make me happy. I can call people from the Great Wall even if they choose not to answer. I can IM friends and get exciting news in real time. I can get emails that tell me of hilarious dreams someone may or may not have had. I can listen to Coldplay in the back of a taxi. I can download the latest episode of Prison Break and not have to wait until I get home! I can send pictures and stupid videos home while still gone. These are all good things (with the possible exception of the videos).

4. They have 6 story bead malls in China. Really.

5. 8 years later and I still don't like being stared at.

6. I have a much easier time clearing Chinese airport security than Jini does. And I proved this 5 times this week so far.

7. They don't have traffic laws in China. I think they have traffic suggestions....but even the police don't seem too interested in those.

8. There are a lot of middle aged white men hanging out in hotels across this nation. I can't imagine what they are all doing, but I'm sure it's important.

9. I really need to learn to use chopsticks.

10. I don't enjoy pickled jellyfish, but bamboo's not bad. River crab is too much work.....even when a nice Chinese man rips it apart and tears off the legs so I don't have to do it for a second time. Tearing the head off of shrimp is gross. Peanuts as a side dish is something I can get behind. Picking a living, swimming, kind of cute fish out of a tank to eat only to see it's steamed eyes on it's steamed body staring back at you from your table 20 minutes later is kind of depressing.

Walt Disney Wasn't Kidding

It is truly a freakishly small world sometimes.

Deconstructing Yourself

I've been wondering lately how much of a virtue it is to be a direct person. It's something that I value in people, and it's something that I value in myself. But the more I look at the relationships around me, it doesn't always seem that being direct is what people have come to expect or want-- even when it comes to dealing with their own life.

I read a quote from an actor yesterday that's been banging around in my head all day today. He said that while growing up he had spent so much time doing what was expected of him that he forgot to figure out what he expected of himself....and he then had to spend his 20s dismantling the "budding bureaucrat" that he had become. I think that rang so true with me because it seems like many children who grow up in households of high expectations (whether they be religious, moral, social, educational...) lose themselves into a life that is not of their own choosing. Obviously the answer is not to have low expectations of your children. If modern American society has taught us nothing else, it's proven that children need parents more than good friends who happen to have given them life. But somewhere along the way, we forget that just because we helped create a life-- that life does not become a command performance. (And sometimes the loudest commands are never spoken.)

So what does this have to do with my pondering about the virtue of being direct? Nothing. Nothing and everything.

(and the irony of not spelling it out has not escaped my attention)

Random Thought #3

How many people are willing to live with the certainty of regret because they are so much more afraid of the unknown?