As per the title of this entry:
1) Shape-ups.
If you honestly believe a pair of shoes alone is going to help you lose weight, there's a bridge in Brooklyn I could sell you. Sure, I will accept the fact that maybe they help people with back problems. Or maybe they tone your muscles a tiny bit because they have you walking on an elevation. Maybe they even do help you lose a negligible amount of weight. But the point is that you're WALKING. Not that you're walking in Shape-ups. If you wear the shape-ups and walk to the fridge for a soda, they're not going to do anything for you.
Just f*&%ing exercise. Diet pills, weight loss miracles - it all REALLY makes me angry. Simple diet modifications and exercise are the healthiest and most effective ways to lose weight. Not some $100 pair of shoes. DUH.
2) Celebrities who say they eat like pigs, yet are a size negative 3.
God. I read about this all the time. Annalynn McCord (who the hell is she anyway?) loves burgers. Shakira loves food. Kim Kardashian probably loves stuffing her face with lard. Yet... they still all have no body fat. Why? Probably because after they splurge on that burger or that lard, they spend 3 hours in a gym with a $1,000/session personal trainer. But no one ever says that, now do they? Stars who claim they eat whatever they want and don't work out and still look like a pencil are lying. LYING.
Also, stars who say they were dorks in high school are lying. Except maybe the guy who plays Screech. Or Justin Long. I could believe he was a dweeb-monger.
Ok. Glad I got that off my chest. Now I'm going to go eat 10 burgers and then walk 15 steps in my shape-ups. That should do the trick. Slimmer, toned thighs - here I come!!!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Grammar Gripe of the Week
From Yahoo (r) answers. Just pitiful. First off, it's a dumb question, which sounds like it was written by a teenage kid working on a D.A.R.E. (to keep kids off drugs!) project. Have you got a phrase? No, dillwad. I don't own any phrases. I may KNOW a few phrases. Also, "in courage" is something they would put on a soldier's badge. I think you were going for "encourage." It's called vocabulary. Learn it.Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Oh Goody! A typo in the WSJ!
Going from the NYTimes to the WSJ is like going from day to night. The two are completely different - and I like to get the contrast when I'm reading the news. And while I'm reading the news in either publication, I LOVE finding typos (but you already knew that). So here's a little gem I found in an article today:
But this downtown has brought heavy layoffs to the financial and auto industries, two places where generous exit packages remain more common.
New York City has brought heavy layoffs? Or maybe the author was talking about DC. Or MAYBE... the author meant DOWNTURN?
The article, should you choose to read it after this typo, was also indicative of one of the main differences between the WSJ and the NYTimes. This article is about people who are burning through severance pay and can't manage their finances, including a CEO who tossed away around $300 and still hasn't gotten a new job, though he has had a few offers, which he turned down. They expect me to feel sorry for this guy? No way.
But this downtown has brought heavy layoffs to the financial and auto industries, two places where generous exit packages remain more common.
New York City has brought heavy layoffs? Or maybe the author was talking about DC. Or MAYBE... the author meant DOWNTURN?
The article, should you choose to read it after this typo, was also indicative of one of the main differences between the WSJ and the NYTimes. This article is about people who are burning through severance pay and can't manage their finances, including a CEO who tossed away around $300 and still hasn't gotten a new job, though he has had a few offers, which he turned down. They expect me to feel sorry for this guy? No way.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Oh Goody! A typo in the NYTimes!
It probably reflects very poorly on me that I get my kicks from seeing typos in venerable newspapers such as the New York Times. But whatever. I can't help that warm and tingly feeling that creeps up on me when I realize the editors who fill the country's most coveted editorial positions aren't perfect.
So let's celebrate this article, which contains this typo:
Ms. Block went to the company’s Web site and filed an application online, which many others had not. By doing do, her application went directly into the company’s system.
Sounds like something that transpires when my boyfriend is in the bathroom, right?
It's gonna be a good weekend. I can just tell.
So let's celebrate this article, which contains this typo:
Ms. Block went to the company’s Web site and filed an application online, which many others had not. By doing do, her application went directly into the company’s system.
Sounds like something that transpires when my boyfriend is in the bathroom, right?
It's gonna be a good weekend. I can just tell.
Friday, October 16, 2009
The French Taxi Cab
Well tonight was interesting, in a things-come-full-circle kind of way. The day was dreary, rainy and cold - apparently now it's cool to just go from Summer straight to Winter and skip Fall completely. After work, some coworkers and I headed to a bar to watch the Phillies game. I left there around 5:40 to meet some college girlfriends for dinner, and I could not for the life of me get a cab. The ones with lights on didn't stop. The ones without lights on didn't stop. And there were long lulls where nary a taxi was even in sight. On BROAD STREET. A MAIN ARTERY of the city.
I was perplexed. So I walked, hoping to find a taxi as I strode, but my search was in vain. I ended up at 8th and Pine, about 8 blocks away from my final destination, and decided a cab wasn't even worth it at that point. So I made it to dinner flustered, but okay. We sat around at the restaurant for a while talking, and then headed back to my friends' apartment to watch La Vie en Rose, the move about French singer Edith Piaf. It was great. Piaf has an intriguing life and a great voice, and of course all songs sound so much more flowy and dramatic in French than they do in English.
I didn't stay for the whole thing, as I didn't want to have a late night. So another girl who was there offered to drive me home and we left. But as we were driving away, we noticed the car was clunking along making a sound like we were driving on ground up road. So we pulled over at 2nd and Washington, in South Philly, and sure enough my friend had a flat tire. Drat.
I sat with her for a while as she called Triple AAA, and wondered what a nice Jewish girl was doing at the intersection of 2nd and Washington, next to Snockey's crab shack, waiting for Triple AAA to come and rescue my friend's Honda Civic Hybrid. My friend told me I could go, in fact, she insisted I go. So we called a cab and it came within 5 minutes.
And the whole drive back to my apartment, the cab driver sang. In French.
I was perplexed. So I walked, hoping to find a taxi as I strode, but my search was in vain. I ended up at 8th and Pine, about 8 blocks away from my final destination, and decided a cab wasn't even worth it at that point. So I made it to dinner flustered, but okay. We sat around at the restaurant for a while talking, and then headed back to my friends' apartment to watch La Vie en Rose, the move about French singer Edith Piaf. It was great. Piaf has an intriguing life and a great voice, and of course all songs sound so much more flowy and dramatic in French than they do in English.
I didn't stay for the whole thing, as I didn't want to have a late night. So another girl who was there offered to drive me home and we left. But as we were driving away, we noticed the car was clunking along making a sound like we were driving on ground up road. So we pulled over at 2nd and Washington, in South Philly, and sure enough my friend had a flat tire. Drat.
I sat with her for a while as she called Triple AAA, and wondered what a nice Jewish girl was doing at the intersection of 2nd and Washington, next to Snockey's crab shack, waiting for Triple AAA to come and rescue my friend's Honda Civic Hybrid. My friend told me I could go, in fact, she insisted I go. So we called a cab and it came within 5 minutes.
And the whole drive back to my apartment, the cab driver sang. In French.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Grammar Gripe of the Week
A large part of my job is writing career advice, so I pay attention to all the career advice that's out there. (And there is A LOT of it online. Seriously. When I started my job search I can't believe I didn't just google "resume tips". It would have been extremely smart of me.)
Sometimes, the advice is good. Sometimes it downright sucks. And occasionally I find people who can't write for their lives. I would never take career advice from the person who wrote this, as part of an article about resume mistakes:
1. Ambiguous Job Objective: A career objective is the most important part of the resume. A lot depends upon your career objective. It tells the employer regarding your goals and what exactly you want to be. The mistake what people commit is that they write lengthy sentences. No one really has the time to read such long statements. So, keep it as short as possible. Your objective should be simple and easy to understand.
Not only is it painful to read, it's riddled with mistakes. "It tells the employer regarding your goals and what exactly you want to be"? "The mistake what people commit"? Really? PLEASE read your writing before you post it.
This isn't grammar related but the advice also sucks. Resume objectives are redundant. The employer already knows you want a job with them - you wouldn't be applying otherwise. Don't waste resume space saying that. Instead, write a professional statement summing up your strengths and background in 2 or 3 lines. SHEESH.
Sometimes, the advice is good. Sometimes it downright sucks. And occasionally I find people who can't write for their lives. I would never take career advice from the person who wrote this, as part of an article about resume mistakes:
1. Ambiguous Job Objective: A career objective is the most important part of the resume. A lot depends upon your career objective. It tells the employer regarding your goals and what exactly you want to be. The mistake what people commit is that they write lengthy sentences. No one really has the time to read such long statements. So, keep it as short as possible. Your objective should be simple and easy to understand.
Not only is it painful to read, it's riddled with mistakes. "It tells the employer regarding your goals and what exactly you want to be"? "The mistake what people commit"? Really? PLEASE read your writing before you post it.
This isn't grammar related but the advice also sucks. Resume objectives are redundant. The employer already knows you want a job with them - you wouldn't be applying otherwise. Don't waste resume space saying that. Instead, write a professional statement summing up your strengths and background in 2 or 3 lines. SHEESH.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Grammar Gripe of the Week
From a website I came across:
She started her own Intern company, with the goal of raising internship awareness and connecting student’s with their future in 2006.
Can you spot the mistake? I sure hope you can. Apostrophe mistakes are some of my BIGGEST pet peeves! Not only that, but the sentence is clunky, "future" should be plural for consistency, and I think "in 2006" is a misplaced modifier. If their futures were in 2006, I wonder what they're doing now? Gah.
She started her own Intern company, with the goal of raising internship awareness and connecting student’s with their future in 2006.
Can you spot the mistake? I sure hope you can. Apostrophe mistakes are some of my BIGGEST pet peeves! Not only that, but the sentence is clunky, "future" should be plural for consistency, and I think "in 2006" is a misplaced modifier. If their futures were in 2006, I wonder what they're doing now? Gah.
Obama and the Peace Prize
I really do like Barack Obama - he works hard for his initiatives, he frequently addresses the public to keep us abreast of issues and include us in the democratic process, and it goes without saying that he's well spoken. But I wonder if he really deserved the Nobel Peace Prize that he was awarded today...
Does anyone else have thoughts?
Does anyone else have thoughts?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Scenes from the City
So I am taking a photography class at the Fleisher Art Memorial in Bella Vista, and it's been a good time. I am learning all about the different symbols on my camera, like the little face symbol and the mountain symbol and the Eiffel-Tower-with-the-moon-behind-it symbol. (Really, who designs these things?) Anyway, I wanted to share some of the photographs I've taken recently. So here they are!
This is a pretty design on a Hookah at Leila Cafe.
LOVE this picture of broken glass in a window on South Street.
There are mosaics like these all over the South Street area.
I like the colors in this one... the yellow against the blue sky.
Again with the yellow and the sky.
I used the Tungsten setting to make this one really blue.
Tried my best to get the pinky-purply sky in this one.
Playing around with digital macro - my new favorite setting on my camera.
Scenes from Rittenhouse.
Travelling on Septa. Exhilarating.
Whizzing past a stop on the R3.
This is a pretty design on a Hookah at Leila Cafe.
LOVE this picture of broken glass in a window on South Street.
There are mosaics like these all over the South Street area.
I like the colors in this one... the yellow against the blue sky.
Again with the yellow and the sky.
I used the Tungsten setting to make this one really blue.
Tried my best to get the pinky-purply sky in this one.
Playing around with digital macro - my new favorite setting on my camera.
Scenes from Rittenhouse.
Travelling on Septa. Exhilarating.
Whizzing past a stop on the R3.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Grammar Gripe of the Week
Because I am the grammar police, I constantly obsess over how much I despise people who can't speak English. And by that I don't mean native speakers of other languages - they're okay. It's people who were brought up speaking English who still can't speak English that get me. I admit I occasionally make a mistake, what person frantically running their fingers over a keyboard doesn't? But chronic mistake makers really get my goat.
One thing that's been bothering me lately is people who don't know common phrases. Here is an example, from someone's Facebook status (no names, sorry if the person who had this status reads this):
So-and-so is not to sure what this day in tales.
I first thought this must have been a joke. Of course the person knows that it's "entails" and not "in tales". I mean, what does "in tales" even mean in this context? It makes no sense. But I don't think the person was joking. Another one that bothers me is when people say "could of" or "would of" when they really mean "could have" or "would have".
When did we lose sight of our own language? Oh, it depresses me.
I think I'll make this grammar gripe thing a regular feature, as I really like pointing out people's mistakes. For other grammar nerds (and members of the police force) I'll also direct you to another woman who does this, The Sentence Sleuth.
One thing that's been bothering me lately is people who don't know common phrases. Here is an example, from someone's Facebook status (no names, sorry if the person who had this status reads this):
So-and-so is not to sure what this day in tales.
I first thought this must have been a joke. Of course the person knows that it's "entails" and not "in tales". I mean, what does "in tales" even mean in this context? It makes no sense. But I don't think the person was joking. Another one that bothers me is when people say "could of" or "would of" when they really mean "could have" or "would have".
When did we lose sight of our own language? Oh, it depresses me.
I think I'll make this grammar gripe thing a regular feature, as I really like pointing out people's mistakes. For other grammar nerds (and members of the police force) I'll also direct you to another woman who does this, The Sentence Sleuth.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
I will write better. I will write better. I will...
I always delight in hearing my boyfriend's story about how his handwriting was so atrocious in elementary school that a teacher made him stay in from recess and write "I will write better" over and over again on a piece of paper. Unfortunately, his printing has not gotten any better. I still find it atrocious today how he scribbles carelessly and squashes his letters and makes lowercase e's by drawing the curve first, then inserting a haphazard line.
I was also thinking about handwriting this weekend while we were up in NH for the wedding of one of my boyfriend's childhood friends. We were browsing through some of his old yearbooks, and as I read the "autographs" of girls in his class, it seemed exactly the same as the handwriting my friends and I used to have. I wondered - 'is handwriting trendy?' Are some types of handwriting "cool" at times, and others not? Was it "cool" to write in swirly, bubbly, big letters that conjured up images of giggly girls with braces? It might have been, because I remember striving to that effervescent handwriting... though I could never quite get it.
And now with all this texting and emailing, will kids not even regard handwriting as a form of communication anymore? What does the "cool" handwriting look like today? (And don't say: Times New Roman.)
This article doesn't really answer that question; it's more about how cursive is a silly way to teach kids to write. But it is what inspired this post, so check it out: here.
I was also thinking about handwriting this weekend while we were up in NH for the wedding of one of my boyfriend's childhood friends. We were browsing through some of his old yearbooks, and as I read the "autographs" of girls in his class, it seemed exactly the same as the handwriting my friends and I used to have. I wondered - 'is handwriting trendy?' Are some types of handwriting "cool" at times, and others not? Was it "cool" to write in swirly, bubbly, big letters that conjured up images of giggly girls with braces? It might have been, because I remember striving to that effervescent handwriting... though I could never quite get it.
And now with all this texting and emailing, will kids not even regard handwriting as a form of communication anymore? What does the "cool" handwriting look like today? (And don't say: Times New Roman.)
This article doesn't really answer that question; it's more about how cursive is a silly way to teach kids to write. But it is what inspired this post, so check it out: here.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Two Kick Butt Articles Today
Today I am excited for two completely unrelated, yet awesome-beyond-belief articles. Let's start with the not-gross one:
Tetris gives you more brain
Oh joy of joys. Now I can justify to my boyfriend why I can't just watch TV - instead I have to break out the old school Game Boy Color that should probably be dead right now, and jam away to the hardest level of Tetris. I find infinite joy in getting the spaceship and the little dancing Russian men, and I've since made it my mission to get TWO Tetrises in every game I play. Think an average of 1 hour/night of Tetris will rot my brain? Au contraire... it will make my brain BETTER!
And the gross (but so true and not usually talked about) topic:
Tonsiliths.
Ever cough up a little foul-smelling white chunk and wonder what crawled into your throat and died? It's called a tonsilith, and it's basically debris that gets caught in your tonsil cavities, which acquires bacteria that makes it smell. The good news is that EVERYONE suffers from these, but hardly anyone knows what they are or what they're called. Well, a few weeks ago, I got curious and Googled "smelly white throat piece," and eventually came upon a wealth of tonsilith (or tonsil stone) literature. I felt like a great weight had lifted from my shoulders, and I was amused when the NYTimes did a piece on something I had just discovered. It was like they were inside my mind!
It's time to move on with my life now, but I hope you appreciated those articles and that tiny glimpse into some issues of my life (namely Tetris addiction and smelly white throat balls).
I'll leave you with another random but awesome link - the Eagles' Shawn Andrews performing a little ditty I like to call, "Getting my Michael Phelps On". Just skip to around 2:40, the rest is boring.
Tetris gives you more brain
Oh joy of joys. Now I can justify to my boyfriend why I can't just watch TV - instead I have to break out the old school Game Boy Color that should probably be dead right now, and jam away to the hardest level of Tetris. I find infinite joy in getting the spaceship and the little dancing Russian men, and I've since made it my mission to get TWO Tetrises in every game I play. Think an average of 1 hour/night of Tetris will rot my brain? Au contraire... it will make my brain BETTER!
And the gross (but so true and not usually talked about) topic:
Tonsiliths.
Ever cough up a little foul-smelling white chunk and wonder what crawled into your throat and died? It's called a tonsilith, and it's basically debris that gets caught in your tonsil cavities, which acquires bacteria that makes it smell. The good news is that EVERYONE suffers from these, but hardly anyone knows what they are or what they're called. Well, a few weeks ago, I got curious and Googled "smelly white throat piece," and eventually came upon a wealth of tonsilith (or tonsil stone) literature. I felt like a great weight had lifted from my shoulders, and I was amused when the NYTimes did a piece on something I had just discovered. It was like they were inside my mind!
It's time to move on with my life now, but I hope you appreciated those articles and that tiny glimpse into some issues of my life (namely Tetris addiction and smelly white throat balls).
I'll leave you with another random but awesome link - the Eagles' Shawn Andrews performing a little ditty I like to call, "Getting my Michael Phelps On". Just skip to around 2:40, the rest is boring.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Some Funny Pictures
I know it's been a while since I've written. So sue me. I don't have anything to say. But I do have some things to show, as a few silly things have happened recently. Here goes:
Watching Good Day Philadelphia, as per usual, and they spelled Philadelphia wrong. As per usual. Oh hi, Marc Lamont Hill. 
Then Will and I played Scrabble. Interestingly enough, he won. But not with this word. 
And our Wii is apparently possessed. 
Phallic tomatoes. Gotta love em. 
Then I went to eat lunch at the Continental Midtown. The calamari was great. The quickie? Not so good. Hope you enjoyed!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Bang, Pow, Crash
Oh today is just one of those days - when I feel so overwhelmed with all that's going on in life, and like there's no time to do anything.
In college, my days were planned. I had specific assignments I was working on, club meetings, rehearsals - I knew what my activities were, I knew who my friends were, I knew my major, and I knew what I was working toward. In the real world that kind of structure doesn't exist. And so I have days like today, when I wonder where I'm going with my life and what happened to all my dreams and hobbies and interests. I make long lists in my head of everything I'd ideally like to do: take photography classes, speak Spanish, learn to make jewelry, sing, force myself into a regular gym routine, find a job that I love, volunteer at the animal shelter, decorate the apartment, clean the apartment, find some freelance writing gigs, become a better cook, accrue a more professional wardrobe, blog... GAH it's enough to make my head explode.
I feel as though I have no direction right now. There is so much I'd like to do, as you can see, but I have such trouble prioritizing and finding time and keeping my desires consistent. It gets very overwhelming, like I have a giant post-it note on my brain.
The biggest question I want to answer right now is: What thing(s) am I passionate about and how can I go about making a life out of that? But if I don't try a bunch of different things, how will I ever get an answer?
Boo to feeling this way. On one hand it's exciting to have so many possibilities, on the other hand...
...it's exhausting.
In college, my days were planned. I had specific assignments I was working on, club meetings, rehearsals - I knew what my activities were, I knew who my friends were, I knew my major, and I knew what I was working toward. In the real world that kind of structure doesn't exist. And so I have days like today, when I wonder where I'm going with my life and what happened to all my dreams and hobbies and interests. I make long lists in my head of everything I'd ideally like to do: take photography classes, speak Spanish, learn to make jewelry, sing, force myself into a regular gym routine, find a job that I love, volunteer at the animal shelter, decorate the apartment, clean the apartment, find some freelance writing gigs, become a better cook, accrue a more professional wardrobe, blog... GAH it's enough to make my head explode.
I feel as though I have no direction right now. There is so much I'd like to do, as you can see, but I have such trouble prioritizing and finding time and keeping my desires consistent. It gets very overwhelming, like I have a giant post-it note on my brain.
The biggest question I want to answer right now is: What thing(s) am I passionate about and how can I go about making a life out of that? But if I don't try a bunch of different things, how will I ever get an answer?
Boo to feeling this way. On one hand it's exciting to have so many possibilities, on the other hand...
...it's exhausting.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Things to find out BEFORE marriage
Oh Google ads, you never fail to make me laugh.
Also, the usage of the word "if" is incorrect. It should be whether. So there. Also, I posted something just like this a while ago, but I had forgotten about it until now. So who cares?
Also, the usage of the word "if" is incorrect. It should be whether. So there. Also, I posted something just like this a while ago, but I had forgotten about it until now. So who cares?
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Issues are just alright with me
Besides the fact that Michael Showalter and Michael Ian Black may possibly be my most favoritest people on the planet, this clip explains why I CANNOT WAIT for the new Comedy Central show Michael & Michael Have Issues. WATCH IT!
| Michael & Michael Have Issues | Premieres Wed, July 15, 10:30pm / 9:30c | |||
| Preview - The Farting Butterfly Sketch | ||||
| ||||
Friday, June 12, 2009
People are dying, lashes are extending?
As I was huffing and puffing away on the elliptical at the gym this morning, I had the pleasure of viewing a commercial for a novel product called Latisse. This product is the "first and only FDA approved prescription treatment for inadequate or not enough eyelashes, growing them longer, fuller, and darker."
I kid you not.
Yes, folks. While people around the world are dying of all kinds of malicious diseases - AIDS, cancer, diabetes, heart disease - there are scientists toiling away in a lab to find out how women can LENGTHEN their INADEQUATE eyelashes.
All I have to say is thank god this product is here. My life depends on my eyelashes, and I'm sure I'm not alone. Finally, I can breathe easier. Or... bat my eyes at people easier. Same thing.
This just goes to show that Americans will buy anything.
I kid you not.
Yes, folks. While people around the world are dying of all kinds of malicious diseases - AIDS, cancer, diabetes, heart disease - there are scientists toiling away in a lab to find out how women can LENGTHEN their INADEQUATE eyelashes.
All I have to say is thank god this product is here. My life depends on my eyelashes, and I'm sure I'm not alone. Finally, I can breathe easier. Or... bat my eyes at people easier. Same thing.
This just goes to show that Americans will buy anything.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Speaking of Baby Killers...
Judging from what Korena Roberts did (faked pregnancy, killed an actual pregnant woman and cut out her baby) she's probably crazy.
But if you needed extra proof, check out her mug shot.
I'll be having nightmares for weeks.
But if you needed extra proof, check out her mug shot.
I'll be having nightmares for weeks.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Justifiable Homicide... YEAH RIGHT
The story of the death of Dr. George Tiller (the guy who gives late-term abortions... but as commenters on the NYTimes article pointed out, shouldn't be reduced to simply an "abortion doctor") has really been eating at me.
I just finished reading the book This Common Secret by another "abortion doctor" Susan Wicklund, and so it's weird that this murder occurred when it did. Wicklund spends a lot of time describing her encounters with pro-lifers. They were often outside her clinic terrorizing women as they tried to enter, and Wicklund herself received death threats and feared for her safety so much that she requested police protection. There was even one incident where protesters camped out on her property, and Wicklund was scared to leave her own house (the police didn't do much to mitigate the situation).
It just baffles me that people are allowed to go so far and take such strong action against something that is legal. And all because their faith tells them it's not right. Sure, I don't like abortion protesters, but I wouldn't go and kill one of them just because of what they are. I truly believe these people are crazy, immature, and unwilling to have a dialogue, which makes them all the more dangerous.
Pro-life groups are coming out and saying that this man doesn't represent them, but I think the example of this murder should bring to light the terrifying and uneccesary tactics these people use to scare doctors who are providing legal and life-saving services to women in need.
In the NYTimes article one group, Operation Rescue, says they always used "nonviolent" measures to "challenge" Dr. Tiller. Things like bringing lawsuits against him and trying to put him out of business. They may be nonviolent, but how are they in any way right? Trying to put a doctor out of business because he does something you don't agree with? Something that's legal in this country? Something that several women need? Something that, without safe methods, could kill women or cause them mental and physical suffering?
It just seems that these people are so hateful. And it really makes me hate them in return. But still, I won't kill them, because killing is wrong. And there is no such thing as "justifiable homicide" as the murdered believed in. That is just insane. I hope Scott Roeder gets put in jail for the rest of his life, and that this story brings to light the problem of anti-abortion protesters.
I just finished reading the book This Common Secret by another "abortion doctor" Susan Wicklund, and so it's weird that this murder occurred when it did. Wicklund spends a lot of time describing her encounters with pro-lifers. They were often outside her clinic terrorizing women as they tried to enter, and Wicklund herself received death threats and feared for her safety so much that she requested police protection. There was even one incident where protesters camped out on her property, and Wicklund was scared to leave her own house (the police didn't do much to mitigate the situation).
It just baffles me that people are allowed to go so far and take such strong action against something that is legal. And all because their faith tells them it's not right. Sure, I don't like abortion protesters, but I wouldn't go and kill one of them just because of what they are. I truly believe these people are crazy, immature, and unwilling to have a dialogue, which makes them all the more dangerous.
Pro-life groups are coming out and saying that this man doesn't represent them, but I think the example of this murder should bring to light the terrifying and uneccesary tactics these people use to scare doctors who are providing legal and life-saving services to women in need.
In the NYTimes article one group, Operation Rescue, says they always used "nonviolent" measures to "challenge" Dr. Tiller. Things like bringing lawsuits against him and trying to put him out of business. They may be nonviolent, but how are they in any way right? Trying to put a doctor out of business because he does something you don't agree with? Something that's legal in this country? Something that several women need? Something that, without safe methods, could kill women or cause them mental and physical suffering?
It just seems that these people are so hateful. And it really makes me hate them in return. But still, I won't kill them, because killing is wrong. And there is no such thing as "justifiable homicide" as the murdered believed in. That is just insane. I hope Scott Roeder gets put in jail for the rest of his life, and that this story brings to light the problem of anti-abortion protesters.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Summer in the city...
... is most glorious. It's warm enough to enjoy long walks, people are having sidewalk sales, there are festivals and flea markets everywhere, and Penn's Landing has started it's series of cultural celebrations. I wouldn't trade summer in the city for anything, except maybe summer on my own private beach. But since THAT won't be happening anytime soon, I'll take summer in the city. I wanted to share a few photos of one activity we did recently: the Italian Market festival.
The Italian Market is an amazing area down 9th Street south of South that's full of little cheese, pasta, and herb places, along with vendors that sell fresh fruits and vegetables. The festival included these vendors, but also added a bunch of craft tents, live music, ready-to-eat foods on sale on the street, and a "stickball" tournament. Yeah, I didn't know what it was either, but apparently it's a traditional game in South Philly. It's much like baseball, except played with cut-in-half tennis balls and broomsticks. That's so people can play without breaking windows. And it's played up against a wall and each level of the wall entails what the hit was - like the lowest tier of the wall is a single.
And here's a kid playing stickball.
I know I've said this before but still one of my favorite things about being in the city is that there's so much to see and it's all within walking distance. I encourage everyone to check out Yelp.com or gophila.com to find nearby events. You won't be sorry!
The Italian Market is an amazing area down 9th Street south of South that's full of little cheese, pasta, and herb places, along with vendors that sell fresh fruits and vegetables. The festival included these vendors, but also added a bunch of craft tents, live music, ready-to-eat foods on sale on the street, and a "stickball" tournament. Yeah, I didn't know what it was either, but apparently it's a traditional game in South Philly. It's much like baseball, except played with cut-in-half tennis balls and broomsticks. That's so people can play without breaking windows. And it's played up against a wall and each level of the wall entails what the hit was - like the lowest tier of the wall is a single.
And here's a kid playing stickball.
I know I've said this before but still one of my favorite things about being in the city is that there's so much to see and it's all within walking distance. I encourage everyone to check out Yelp.com or gophila.com to find nearby events. You won't be sorry!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Doing my part for Philly
Last night I exercised my authority as a democratic citizen of the city of Philadelphia and voted in the Municipal Primaries. They'll most importantly decide who will run for District Attorney and Controller.
While I'm not going to pretend that all my information came from the morning's Metro (and that I made my decision that morning based on a one-page feature), I will say that it made me feel important and proud to walk into that booth and do my civic duty. Especially since not many people vote in the primaries, let alone even know that they're occurring unless they've been paying attention to local news. (American Idol fans take note - there is more to life than that banshee Adam Lambert.)
Preliminary results
Ever since the presidential primaries, I've made it a point to keep up on news and politics. It's something I never did before, but it is truly empowering and makes me feel like I'm an involved citizen of the country, rather than just a resident who never really cared to know how things worked. Not to mention it gives me great fuel for starting conversations, though it probably makes me seem a little pretentious if other people have no idea what I'm talking about. Oh well. A little confidence never hurt anyone, did it?
Today, though, I read about how the president is likely to sign a bill that would allow concealed weapons in national parks. Not so Obama-like, I know. But it makes more sense when you know that this measure is tagged onto a larger bill that regulates credit card companies - something that Obama's been pushing for a few days now.
I guess that's what's known as an "earmark". It would be like if your mom announced she was going to the store to get diapers, and your dad chirped after her, "Can you also go to the liquor store and get me a handle of vodka?" The actions are competely unrelated, yet your dad knows your mom is likely to go out and buy things, so he just figured he'd put in a good word for vodka.
Even as I try to understand politics, I realize there will still be things that puzzle me. But one thing I understand more and more is that politics does not exist as a straightforward, regulated entity, rather it's an intricate game people have to learn to play in order to be successful.
While I'm not going to pretend that all my information came from the morning's Metro (and that I made my decision that morning based on a one-page feature), I will say that it made me feel important and proud to walk into that booth and do my civic duty. Especially since not many people vote in the primaries, let alone even know that they're occurring unless they've been paying attention to local news. (American Idol fans take note - there is more to life than that banshee Adam Lambert.)
Preliminary results
Ever since the presidential primaries, I've made it a point to keep up on news and politics. It's something I never did before, but it is truly empowering and makes me feel like I'm an involved citizen of the country, rather than just a resident who never really cared to know how things worked. Not to mention it gives me great fuel for starting conversations, though it probably makes me seem a little pretentious if other people have no idea what I'm talking about. Oh well. A little confidence never hurt anyone, did it?
Today, though, I read about how the president is likely to sign a bill that would allow concealed weapons in national parks. Not so Obama-like, I know. But it makes more sense when you know that this measure is tagged onto a larger bill that regulates credit card companies - something that Obama's been pushing for a few days now.
I guess that's what's known as an "earmark". It would be like if your mom announced she was going to the store to get diapers, and your dad chirped after her, "Can you also go to the liquor store and get me a handle of vodka?" The actions are competely unrelated, yet your dad knows your mom is likely to go out and buy things, so he just figured he'd put in a good word for vodka.
Even as I try to understand politics, I realize there will still be things that puzzle me. But one thing I understand more and more is that politics does not exist as a straightforward, regulated entity, rather it's an intricate game people have to learn to play in order to be successful.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Delighting in grammar!
Those of you who know me know I am a stickler for correct spelling and grammar. I frequently take pleasure in pointing out mistakes in the New York Times or other venerable publications, and when I make a mistake myself I'm often quick to correct it lest I end up looking foolish in front of the literati with which I keep company.
In today's world, however, inventions such as texting and Twitter seem to dumb-down our lanugage abilities and turn communication into something that is done in short, carelessly abbreviated bursts (u gng 2 movi 2nite?). It makes me a little bit depressed to think that proper language and all it's beautiful intricacies may be flushed down the toilet. I mean people are writing NOVELS on their CELL PHONES... Dickens must be turning over in his grave!
Amidst all the semantic turmoil, I was happy to stumble across this website: English Grammar Revolution. It's all about learning parts of speech and diagramming sentences--I know it was tedious in elementary school but for adults it's a great way to procrastinate and do your part to perpetuate language correctness.
So please don't let words become obsolete in favor of three-letter abbreviations. Don't let commas become a thing of the past. Don't wait until it's so bad that you get a letter (or more likely, a text) from your child at summer camp that looks like this:
omg mom plz snd sox feet stnk fuds gud mis u
Instead, go here and diagram a sentence. Encourage your kids/friends/illiterate neighbors to do the same.
Oh, and check out the preposition song, it's pretty sweet.
In today's world, however, inventions such as texting and Twitter seem to dumb-down our lanugage abilities and turn communication into something that is done in short, carelessly abbreviated bursts (u gng 2 movi 2nite?). It makes me a little bit depressed to think that proper language and all it's beautiful intricacies may be flushed down the toilet. I mean people are writing NOVELS on their CELL PHONES... Dickens must be turning over in his grave!
Amidst all the semantic turmoil, I was happy to stumble across this website: English Grammar Revolution. It's all about learning parts of speech and diagramming sentences--I know it was tedious in elementary school but for adults it's a great way to procrastinate and do your part to perpetuate language correctness.
So please don't let words become obsolete in favor of three-letter abbreviations. Don't let commas become a thing of the past. Don't wait until it's so bad that you get a letter (or more likely, a text) from your child at summer camp that looks like this:
omg mom plz snd sox feet stnk fuds gud mis u
Instead, go here and diagram a sentence. Encourage your kids/friends/illiterate neighbors to do the same.
Oh, and check out the preposition song, it's pretty sweet.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Philadelphia mom has been seriously busy
I know that these scammy Internet marketers want to grab my attention with something relevant, but honestly! I'd rather hear that "Philadelphia homeless man finds a mortgage" or "Philadelphia cheese shop owner discovers low-fat, delicious cheese." It seems Philadelphia mom has really gotten her life back on track, so I think it's time we start hearing about someone else.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Spamerific!
I get some really awesome spam emails at work. Most of them are in Chinese or some weird computer language with funky symbols, but the ones in English are extremely amusing. Today, one asked me this:
"Tired of sunbathing in clothes because you are too fat?"
I felt that was a little harsh, and it really did a number on my self-esteem. I mean they could have just told me I could lose weight easily with a miracle-inducing Acai berry mixture. They didn't have to go ahead and draw attention to my uber-obesity*, which often causes me to lounge around in 90 degree weather with full fabric coverage from head to toe. Seriously, spam. You're breaking my heart.
*Ok. I'm not really uber-obese. But if I were, you could bet that email would drive me to chow down on krumpets and inhale a 2-liter bottle of coke.
"Tired of sunbathing in clothes because you are too fat?"
I felt that was a little harsh, and it really did a number on my self-esteem. I mean they could have just told me I could lose weight easily with a miracle-inducing Acai berry mixture. They didn't have to go ahead and draw attention to my uber-obesity*, which often causes me to lounge around in 90 degree weather with full fabric coverage from head to toe. Seriously, spam. You're breaking my heart.
*Ok. I'm not really uber-obese. But if I were, you could bet that email would drive me to chow down on krumpets and inhale a 2-liter bottle of coke.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Hemingway's Island Paradise
A little over a week ago I went to Key West for a week-long vacation, and I figure I should write about it just in case you're debating whether or not to go to Key West (don't deny it, you totally are).
First off, let me just say that it's hot. And sometimes uncomfortably hot. But there are nice beaches and it's near the equator, so if you want to lie in the sand and soak up the sun while waves tumble gently in the background, it's ideal. And there's a lot more to do there besides tanning - the island has a literary (Hemingway, Frost), military (lots of forts to see), and presidential history that's represented through several museums, plus there are lots of day trips to take that will satisfy the wildlife/watersporting enthusiast, and tons of bars and restaurants for the foodies/drunkies. And everything is walkable since the island is small, so you won't need transportation.
The island's mishmash of activities is also something that made it a little strange, since it seemed there was no coherent message that Key West was broadcasting. Often at night, we'd be walking down the main drag (Duval Street, Key West's idea of Bourbon Street) and we'd pass drag queens, nudie bars, raging drunks, and families with small children - all in one block. That was a bit startling, but I guess it's better to have something for everyone than a niche no one will appreciate.
So that's my oh-so-short review of Key West. I would like to add, though, that the sunsets are unbeatable:
and you really can't deny the attraction of views like this:
So if you're in the mood for some Jimmy Buffet-worthy margaritas and a day at the beach, head on down to Key West.
In local news, last night the Phils beat the Nationals in a game that included not one, but TWO grand slams. And I was there for one of them!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
No, you are not excused
Today I received an email from a colleague with this "disclaimer" at the bottom:
Please excuse any typos as this was sent from my blackberry
Apparently the standard (and sickeningly promotional) "Sent from my BlackBerry Hurricane-or-whatever-its-called" is not enough anymore. Now we must make excuses for our inability to take correspondence seriously, and our impatience that leads us to send emails from our phones rather that waiting until we are at a computer and in a good position to communicate.
Of course, I know smart phones aren't all bad. We live in a fast paced world. Sometimes you really need to close that deal before noon, and your phone is the only communication device you've got on hand. Smart phones help businesses run smoothly and keep us in touch with people we otherwise wouldn't be able to get a hold of, and I'm all for that.
What makes me angry is that I'm being asked to excuse your behavior, when you really have no right to demand that of me. If the disclaimer had said, "Sent from my thingamajigger; may contain typos," I'd be okay with that. You're simply warning me. But to take it one step further and ask me to to go ahead and overlook the fact that I'm not important enough for you to spell-check or use proper punctuation, well that's going too far.
What's next? "Please excuse my use of annoying abbreviations?" Or "Please excuse the fact that I can't take enough time to actually type out a complete sentence?" Maybe just a blank email with "Please excuse this email, as something in my bag hit the send button accidentally and I don't actually have anything to say to you."
Oh to live back in the day when people wrote long, emotion-filled letters to each other. Now that's correspondence.
Please excuse any typos as this was sent from my blackberry
Apparently the standard (and sickeningly promotional) "Sent from my BlackBerry Hurricane-or-whatever-its-called" is not enough anymore. Now we must make excuses for our inability to take correspondence seriously, and our impatience that leads us to send emails from our phones rather that waiting until we are at a computer and in a good position to communicate.
Of course, I know smart phones aren't all bad. We live in a fast paced world. Sometimes you really need to close that deal before noon, and your phone is the only communication device you've got on hand. Smart phones help businesses run smoothly and keep us in touch with people we otherwise wouldn't be able to get a hold of, and I'm all for that.
What makes me angry is that I'm being asked to excuse your behavior, when you really have no right to demand that of me. If the disclaimer had said, "Sent from my thingamajigger; may contain typos," I'd be okay with that. You're simply warning me. But to take it one step further and ask me to to go ahead and overlook the fact that I'm not important enough for you to spell-check or use proper punctuation, well that's going too far.
What's next? "Please excuse my use of annoying abbreviations?" Or "Please excuse the fact that I can't take enough time to actually type out a complete sentence?" Maybe just a blank email with "Please excuse this email, as something in my bag hit the send button accidentally and I don't actually have anything to say to you."
Oh to live back in the day when people wrote long, emotion-filled letters to each other. Now that's correspondence.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Merits of my roommate... I mean... boyfriend
Today started out as a sorry excuse for a Sunday - rainy, muggy, and generally bleak. But as I was standing in the Gap checkout line, eagerly waiting to purchase two new bikinis for my upcoming vacation to Key West, I heard the girl at the cash register say, "Is that the sun I see?" And sure enough, I turned around to discover a bright yellow beacon shining through the dissipating cloud cover. And for the rest of the day, it's been gorgeous and warm. I also made several more purchases at H&M and Old Navy which satisfied my need to have cute summery dresses for the trip. And did I mention it was warm?
But I've had no one to share the beautiful day with, which is a little disappointing. Will is at work doing some last minute stuff before his busy season is over, and who knows when he'll be home. I had to go grocery shopping by myself, and I have to admit that maneuvering through the grocery store is tough and carrying heavy bags home is even harder when you're on your own. And don't get me started on how hard it is to get out your keys and open the heavy front door while holding three large bags. I know sometimes I need my alone time, but the simple act of food shopping makes me grateful that I don't have to settle for just one set of hands... and it helps that the other two hands helping me are the hands of someone I love. :)
But I've had no one to share the beautiful day with, which is a little disappointing. Will is at work doing some last minute stuff before his busy season is over, and who knows when he'll be home. I had to go grocery shopping by myself, and I have to admit that maneuvering through the grocery store is tough and carrying heavy bags home is even harder when you're on your own. And don't get me started on how hard it is to get out your keys and open the heavy front door while holding three large bags. I know sometimes I need my alone time, but the simple act of food shopping makes me grateful that I don't have to settle for just one set of hands... and it helps that the other two hands helping me are the hands of someone I love. :)
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Tale of Irish Mayhem
Once upon last Saturday, three good friends celebrated St. Patty's Day. Though it caused their livers much chagrin, it brought much joy to the rest of their lives. The good tidings began at around 3 with lunch and an inaugural drink at Eulogy. There, the friends mused about who the heck St. Patrick is. The doe-eyed, bushy-haired girl was under the impression he was a dude who led some snakes out of Ireland. It sounds outrageous, but the little literature scholar wasn't so far off course.
The rest of the day unraveled as the group had hoped, with much debauchery and celebration that included, but was not limited to, imbibing Irish car bombs and downing shots of Jameson. But, kids, this story is not without a twist, and so I introduce: The Dirty Leprechaun and the Magic Pizza.
At some point in this most wonderful of Saturday nights, one of the friends announced that a shot would be consumed. "What shot?" asked the jolly bartender. "The dirty leprechaun," answered the friend, with a twinkle in his eye. "I've never heard of that," said the bartender. "Pray you, tell me what to put in it!" The friend paused, having no idea what was in the shot he had just prescribed. That's because he wasn't sure the shot existed. (sidenote: it does!) But damned if that friend was going to let the moment pass with nary an alcoholic intake.
So he made the shot up! "Bailey's, Creme de menthe... and... and..." he struggled to name another cordial. Then another friend, sensing his frustration, spoke up. "BACARDI!" she offered, happily. Though the rest of the friends gave her strange looks, the shot was concocted, imbibed, and verily enjoyed. And since it warranted such enjoyment, it was repeated again through the night.
Of course, as the night wore down, the friends grew tired and drunk... with joy. They headed home, but their stomachs cried out for nourishment. "What shall we do?" they asked, frantically. Luckily, they located a pizza place with reasonable prices and hearty fare, and there they placed their order of a large pepperoni pie.
Well, kids, let me not exaggerate from the truth here: the pizza was indeed magical. It's properties were so great as to span not just deliciousness, but also the staving off of a future hangover. Surely the next morning would have been painful had it not been for that magical pizza with its perfectly round pepperoni and crusty, doughy goodness. Surely!
Thus concludes my tale, but the St. Patrick's Day mayhem lives on in the hearts of all good friends, including YOU!
The rest of the day unraveled as the group had hoped, with much debauchery and celebration that included, but was not limited to, imbibing Irish car bombs and downing shots of Jameson. But, kids, this story is not without a twist, and so I introduce: The Dirty Leprechaun and the Magic Pizza.
At some point in this most wonderful of Saturday nights, one of the friends announced that a shot would be consumed. "What shot?" asked the jolly bartender. "The dirty leprechaun," answered the friend, with a twinkle in his eye. "I've never heard of that," said the bartender. "Pray you, tell me what to put in it!" The friend paused, having no idea what was in the shot he had just prescribed. That's because he wasn't sure the shot existed. (sidenote: it does!) But damned if that friend was going to let the moment pass with nary an alcoholic intake.
So he made the shot up! "Bailey's, Creme de menthe... and... and..." he struggled to name another cordial. Then another friend, sensing his frustration, spoke up. "BACARDI!" she offered, happily. Though the rest of the friends gave her strange looks, the shot was concocted, imbibed, and verily enjoyed. And since it warranted such enjoyment, it was repeated again through the night.
Of course, as the night wore down, the friends grew tired and drunk... with joy. They headed home, but their stomachs cried out for nourishment. "What shall we do?" they asked, frantically. Luckily, they located a pizza place with reasonable prices and hearty fare, and there they placed their order of a large pepperoni pie.
Well, kids, let me not exaggerate from the truth here: the pizza was indeed magical. It's properties were so great as to span not just deliciousness, but also the staving off of a future hangover. Surely the next morning would have been painful had it not been for that magical pizza with its perfectly round pepperoni and crusty, doughy goodness. Surely!
Thus concludes my tale, but the St. Patrick's Day mayhem lives on in the hearts of all good friends, including YOU!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Murder is NOT funny
But all murder aside, there are two things about this NYT article that made me crack a bizarre smile. One - the murderer's name is Mazoltuv, which sounds like it could be some Jewish kid's "hey-aren't-I-funny-and-clever" screen name (to be fair, she is Jewish). And second, this line:
“We are going to drink vodka,” said a cousin [of the deceased], Ilya Khaimov.
I don't know about you, but that's always my first reaction to a trial where a relative of mine is found guilty for hiring a hit man to kill her husband. Get blootered!
Good thing it's just in time for St. Patty's Day.
“We are going to drink vodka,” said a cousin [of the deceased], Ilya Khaimov.
I don't know about you, but that's always my first reaction to a trial where a relative of mine is found guilty for hiring a hit man to kill her husband. Get blootered!
Good thing it's just in time for St. Patty's Day.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Hazy Philly Skyline
The title doesn't mean anything, it's just what I see from my office building window. We're on the 18th floor, which means spectacular views of all the high-rises and the streets below, but also on days like today when there's a wind advisory in effect, we shake, rattle and roll. A lot.
So I wanted to share this article from the NYT (surprise!) Op-Ed section about a new healthcare system that rewards people for staying healthy over a designated period of time, say 5 years. I think this is a really great idea, although as the authors Tom Baker (represent UPenn, woot!) and Peter Siegelman say it would need lots of planning and oversight. Still, they make a good point that lots of young people (ahem... me) don't want to spend money on health insurance that they don't think they need.
I know I need health insurance on a logical level, but I do oftentimes justify not getting it by saying I can wait a year to get a check-up because I believe i'm pretty health overall. I also hate to think that I'm paying into a plan that's helping other unhealthy people and not really benefitting me at all if I lead a healthy lifestyle and don't see a lot of doctors.
With this plan, I'd be rewarded for my overall health, and that's appealing to me. As they say it's an investment, rather than an expense. I didn't wake up at 7AM this morning for a 2-mile jog and NOT expect to be compensated in some way! Sheesh.
As I was complaining about healthcare earlier, I think this is kind of a cool idea. Does anyone else have any thoughts?
Also, I have a new article up so check it out if you're so inclined.
So I wanted to share this article from the NYT (surprise!) Op-Ed section about a new healthcare system that rewards people for staying healthy over a designated period of time, say 5 years. I think this is a really great idea, although as the authors Tom Baker (represent UPenn, woot!) and Peter Siegelman say it would need lots of planning and oversight. Still, they make a good point that lots of young people (ahem... me) don't want to spend money on health insurance that they don't think they need.
I know I need health insurance on a logical level, but I do oftentimes justify not getting it by saying I can wait a year to get a check-up because I believe i'm pretty health overall. I also hate to think that I'm paying into a plan that's helping other unhealthy people and not really benefitting me at all if I lead a healthy lifestyle and don't see a lot of doctors.
With this plan, I'd be rewarded for my overall health, and that's appealing to me. As they say it's an investment, rather than an expense. I didn't wake up at 7AM this morning for a 2-mile jog and NOT expect to be compensated in some way! Sheesh.
As I was complaining about healthcare earlier, I think this is kind of a cool idea. Does anyone else have any thoughts?
Also, I have a new article up so check it out if you're so inclined.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Last night, I had a dream
Actually it was two nights ago. I was sitting in a little courtyard with wooden benches, and a few girls I was friends with in college were sitting with me. It was summer, and we were enjoying being outside. Some of us were reading, some just basking. But we were also at the bottom of a ski slope, which of course was green with no snow.
There was a ski lift as well, but it was really old and not working. We noticed a guy sitting on the lift, and he was pushing it all by himself so he could get to the bottom of the mountain. He was African American and he scared me. When he got to the bottom of the mountain, he ran over to us and I could tell he was homeless and probably drunk or high. He came up to me specifically, and started screaming at me and trying to kidnap me.
Then he pulled out a gun and started shooting. We all scattered, and I hid under the wooden bench. He kept shooting. Finally I heard the police coming and they struggled with him but finally got him in their car and drove off. I watched them and as they were driving over a tunnel, my vision zoomed in on the police car and I noticed that there was a hole in the floor of the car, and that the man was smiling knowing he could escape.
Then I woke up, and I was pretty freaked out.
So of course I went to a dream analysis site and looked up what it all meant... supposedly. But let me paraphrase. Basically I feel threatened or victimized by something, represented by the homeless man, and it might have something to do with my relationship with other girls... jealousy perhaps? And I may feel like I have this threat under control, but the truth is I don't.
So what of the ski slope? Well the site says that represents that I'm pushing my physical abilities, and that I'm my own "fiercest competitor". This makes sense given that I've been trying really hard in the past weeks to get in shape, and I'm doing a pretty good job of running/working out and then I feel proud of myself. But the fiercest competitor part may also signify that what is threatening me is all in my own head.
Well gosh darnet... I guess I just have jealousy issues that I need to overcome by realizing that it's my own insecurities that cause it... plus I need to stop blaming it on other girls and thinking I've successfully kept it at bay. Easy enough, eh? Thanks, dream, for that insight.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Paper or Plastic?
This was in the NYT today - it's an article about taxing supermarket shoppers who use plastic bags. Legislators, however, are concerned about public backlash. As in, "we're in a recession and you're going to charge us FIVE CENTS for using a plastic bag?" I say invest a mere $5 in two large cloth bags and quit complaining.
Anyway I was driven to take a peek at this site, savetheplasticbag.com. Now I'm far from an environmental activist, and I can respect that this guy's done his research before claiming that plastic bags hurt the environment less than paper bags. That's fine with me, it might even be true. But the problem is that he's only comparing plastic bags to paper bags, and not to reusable bags. I want to know what kind of impact we'd have if we all chose reusable bags?
Also, there's a mention on this site of the "Philly Enquirer". That sounds like a tabloid to me. I think around here we call it the Inquirer, but nice try.
What do YOU think?
Monday, February 23, 2009
So typical...
Ok... I admit this may be a tad bit discriminatory, but I wanted to share this news story that I found on the most reliable and intellectual of sources, Yahoo!:
click here
It's about a 68-year old Korean lady who has failed her written driving test 775 times. SEVEN HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE TIMES. I know little old asian ladies are persistent, if not downright pushy (as exemplified by a little old asian lady who scurried past me this morning to be the first on the elevator, even though there was a line of people waiting and we were obviously all going to pile in), but this is just ridiculous.
click here
It's about a 68-year old Korean lady who has failed her written driving test 775 times. SEVEN HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE TIMES. I know little old asian ladies are persistent, if not downright pushy (as exemplified by a little old asian lady who scurried past me this morning to be the first on the elevator, even though there was a line of people waiting and we were obviously all going to pile in), but this is just ridiculous.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Revolutionary Road to the End of the World
In an (albeit poor) attempt to catch up on some Oscar-nominated films in the last days before the ceremony, Will and I went to see "Revolutionary Road" and rented "Encounters at the End of the World". Neither movie really struck me as particularly wonderful. Instead, what I find really interesting is how, even though we chose these films randomly, together they create a particularly intriguing conversation.
RR was about a couple involved in an unsuccessful struggle to break free of the monotony of traditional 1950's American society. EEW was about a group of people, each with an unusual story and dream, thrown together to do extraordinary work in an alien place off the ordinarily-travelled grid. So where one movie was about perpetual and stifling normalcy, the other was about infinite possibility.
Yet for all the differences they had, one message was the same - that we're all pretty much doomed because of our human condition. The main characters in RR couldn't act on their desires, putting them in an excruciating and perpetual state of stagnation. And the scientists and Werner Herzog from EEW believed that nature would eventually wipe out human life altogether, a conclusion that seems to make everything we're doing here meaningless.
But while the message of EEW was just as depressing as that of RR, my reactions to the two movies were vastly different. I did feel truly depressed after RR (and yes... I shed more than a few tears). But after seeing EEW, I feel inspired to go out and do something meaningful and uncommon, and shape my own story by following my dreams before my short life is over. And yet again (as I have so many times, and even once on this blog), I'm left asking myself what my dream truly is.
In the meantime, I'll spend tonight reflecting on the cinematic weekend I had with a fitting activity - watching the Oscars with a group of friends.
Here's to another week...
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Seven Hours in Healthcare
Last night was quite the adventure.
Will picked me up from work complaining of a pain in his side which got worse as we walked. When we were finally home, he was practically doubled over and complaining of chills, even though the apartment is hot. As someone who doesn't often complain, I knew it wasn't petty. It got to the point where we were questioning the ER, and with a little nudge from my dad, we headed down the block to Pennsylvania Hospital.
To be honest I was a little excited. First off, I come from a family of doctors and grew up around hospitals and medical offices, so that environment is familiar, rather than uncomfortable as it is for most people. I respect doctors and I don't mind being around them (as long as there's nothing wrong with me, of course). I also figured it would feel like an episode of Scrubs, with lots of flustered med students running around and maybe some crazy people going through heroine withdrawal or bikers with bloody knees.
Needless to say it was nothing like that. Save for a woman who moaned and stumbled around like she was drunk, the waiting room was tame. There was a family there, sitting in a circle and solemnly discussing the fate of a family member who had "learned her lesson and will hopefully change", but what lesson she learned I couldn't decipher. And there was a girl who complained of stomach pain and sat hunched over, constantly shaking her foot.
I figured we'd wait for 30 minutes, MAYBE an hour if it was crowded, but we ended up in that dull waiting room for 3 hours until finally, at 11PM, they called us in. We were taken to a room and Will had to undress. We sat there for another hour and half, and by that time I was so frustrated from the waiting that I felt tears welling in my eyes for no good reason. We watched some TV - fittingly Anderson Cooper was reporting Obama's search for a new Secretary of Health.
Finally at midnight a nurse came in to set some things up. But at the rate everything was going I figured we'd be there til the sun came up.
I was almost right... at aroung 3 AM after bloodwork, an ultrasound of Will's gall bladder, and an ungodly amount of sitting, lying, and waiting in a dim room punctuated by the sounds of beeping and breathing pumps, we were free to go - empty handed.
It was NOT a pleasant experience. I don't doubt that something is plaguing Will, it just must not be as serious as we made it out to be. Maybe gas. We'll see how he feels tonight. But all the waiting and the frustration - not just ours but the palpable frustration of everyone else in the ER, including the doctors - it made me very angry.
I know our country has healthcare problems. I don't know who's to blame for it - HMOs who charge exorbitant amounts for basic services and treat people like liabilities? People who don't take care of themselves and make healthcare unaffordable for the rest of us? The media and ad agencies who perpetuate our fears that every little thing is a huge deal? Is it growing disrespect and distrust of our medical providers? The effects of frivolous malpractice suits?
Whatever it is, something absolutely needs to be done, and I hope whoever Obama chooses, they get on it as soon as possible so I never have to waste 7 hours of my life again in a hospital.
Will picked me up from work complaining of a pain in his side which got worse as we walked. When we were finally home, he was practically doubled over and complaining of chills, even though the apartment is hot. As someone who doesn't often complain, I knew it wasn't petty. It got to the point where we were questioning the ER, and with a little nudge from my dad, we headed down the block to Pennsylvania Hospital.
To be honest I was a little excited. First off, I come from a family of doctors and grew up around hospitals and medical offices, so that environment is familiar, rather than uncomfortable as it is for most people. I respect doctors and I don't mind being around them (as long as there's nothing wrong with me, of course). I also figured it would feel like an episode of Scrubs, with lots of flustered med students running around and maybe some crazy people going through heroine withdrawal or bikers with bloody knees.
Needless to say it was nothing like that. Save for a woman who moaned and stumbled around like she was drunk, the waiting room was tame. There was a family there, sitting in a circle and solemnly discussing the fate of a family member who had "learned her lesson and will hopefully change", but what lesson she learned I couldn't decipher. And there was a girl who complained of stomach pain and sat hunched over, constantly shaking her foot.
I figured we'd wait for 30 minutes, MAYBE an hour if it was crowded, but we ended up in that dull waiting room for 3 hours until finally, at 11PM, they called us in. We were taken to a room and Will had to undress. We sat there for another hour and half, and by that time I was so frustrated from the waiting that I felt tears welling in my eyes for no good reason. We watched some TV - fittingly Anderson Cooper was reporting Obama's search for a new Secretary of Health.
Finally at midnight a nurse came in to set some things up. But at the rate everything was going I figured we'd be there til the sun came up.
I was almost right... at aroung 3 AM after bloodwork, an ultrasound of Will's gall bladder, and an ungodly amount of sitting, lying, and waiting in a dim room punctuated by the sounds of beeping and breathing pumps, we were free to go - empty handed.
It was NOT a pleasant experience. I don't doubt that something is plaguing Will, it just must not be as serious as we made it out to be. Maybe gas. We'll see how he feels tonight. But all the waiting and the frustration - not just ours but the palpable frustration of everyone else in the ER, including the doctors - it made me very angry.
I know our country has healthcare problems. I don't know who's to blame for it - HMOs who charge exorbitant amounts for basic services and treat people like liabilities? People who don't take care of themselves and make healthcare unaffordable for the rest of us? The media and ad agencies who perpetuate our fears that every little thing is a huge deal? Is it growing disrespect and distrust of our medical providers? The effects of frivolous malpractice suits?
Whatever it is, something absolutely needs to be done, and I hope whoever Obama chooses, they get on it as soon as possible so I never have to waste 7 hours of my life again in a hospital.
Friday, February 6, 2009
City Snowscapes
On Tuesday night it snowed in the city, and it was absolutely magical. So of course I stood out in it and took pictures. Enjoy.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I'm on Urbandictionary.com
I think this is both 100% creepy and 100% awesome. In an act of desperate vanity, I searched my name on urbandictionary.com and this is what came up.
The definition couldn't BE more appropriate for me! I swear I didn't make this definition, and if it was posted by one of my friends, I did NOT know about it.
But whoever did do it was pretty awesome, and I'll forgive that ingenious is spelled wrong.
The definition couldn't BE more appropriate for me! I swear I didn't make this definition, and if it was posted by one of my friends, I did NOT know about it.
But whoever did do it was pretty awesome, and I'll forgive that ingenious is spelled wrong.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I Surrender
Ok... so pretty much everyone and their mom has that Facebook note with the 25 random facts about them... and I'm too much of a rebel to do it on Facebook. But it looks like TONS of fun, so I'm going to do it here. Here goes:
1. When I was younger I had blonde, very curly hair.
2. My mom died of breast cancer when I was 3, and I have one vivid memory of her saying, "You look maaaahvelous daaahling." I don't know if this is a real memory, or something I saw on a video, or even something I just made up in my head that seems to fit. It's quite possibly that last one.
3. I'm procrastinating right now.
4. I've had a lot of dream jobs in my life, but currently my goal is to be a correspondent for NPR who gets to interview interesting people and report interesting stories. Much like Terry Gross.
5. My dream broadway role is Eponine in Les Mis. I know it's cliche. Shut up.
6. I just started a book called "This Common Secret: My Life as An Abortion Doctor" by Susan Wicklund. I got interested in it after hearing the author interviewed on none other than NPR.
7. My two best friends in high school were a gay guy and a lesbian. We had endless amounts of fun. I mean good clean fun, not that kind of fun.
8. Once in a community theatre show I played a sassy, cowgirl-esque grasshopper. During one performance, I was ad-libbing and mentioned something about one of my bug relatives being squashed. Apparently a woman in the audience complained that my reference was too violent for her daughter.
9. I really like the taste of cherry Nyquil.
10. I'm not extremely into sports, but I get really cranky and angry and take it personally when a team I'm rooting for loses (I'm talking about you, Eagles)
11. I bought scalped tickets on the street for a U2 concert in Dublin. It was totally worth it.
12. Speaking of Dublin, Ireland is my favorite country in the world. Scotland comes in a close second; Nicaragua is third.
13. I lose respect for people if they don't spell or punctuate things correctly. That said, I am often guilty of these offenses myself, but when I do it it's ok. :)
14. There's a show that I watch pretty much every night of the week. Monday: House. Tuesday: Scrubs. Wednesday: Lost. Thursday: The Office. Friday: The Soup. And... every night I like to watch Jeopardy and reruns of Scrubs on Comedy Central. I also have a weakness for bad reality TV like Tool Academy, Double Shot at Love, and Ruby... but also good reality TV like Project Runway, Supernanny, and What Not to Wear.
15. I'm surprisingly good at the game SSX Tricky on Playstation 2. I also KICK ASS at Tetris and always play the hardest level of game type-B so I can get a spaceship.
16. Thinking of 25 random things about myself is really tough.
17. I only got accepted to 2 of the 7 colleges to which I applied, but ended up being really happy at Muhlenberg.
18. While at Muhlenberg, I volunteered as an ESL conversational mentor. One of the students in my session was Indian, and worked at the Dunkin' Donuts near school. He gave me free bagels and hot chocolate. It was pretty much awesome.
19. My favorite restaurant is The Olive Garden. But it's always so darn crowded!
20. I got a good piece of advice today when interviewing someone for an article. When writing an email to a potential employer, it's a good idea to write it in Word and then copy and paste it into the email. That's so you can spell-check it.
21. My grandparents on my dad's side are holocaust survivors. My grandfather doesn't know his real birthday or age. He was shot in the leg during WWII. Sorry... that was a few facts in one.
22. My apartment still doesn't have HD.
23. I used to own a red Jetta and her name was Frida. I named her that because [gory imagery to follow] there's a scene in the movie Frida where she loses her baby in bed and is surrounded by bright red blood. It's honestly the first thing I thought of when I saw my car.
24. I have this memory that always stands out in my mind of sitting on my swingset late on a summer day, looking up at the darkening sky and pondering the vastness and mystery of the universe. I was probably like 12. But it still baffles me.
25. At the house where I grew up, I had a sandbox. For my brother Mike's bar mitzvah, which was Hawaii themed and held in our backyard, my dad screwed a life-size fake palm tree into my sandbox. That's just the kind of guy my dad is.
Phew. That took a whole half hour. Now back to work... in the meantime, check out the article I wrote! I'm published!
1. When I was younger I had blonde, very curly hair.
2. My mom died of breast cancer when I was 3, and I have one vivid memory of her saying, "You look maaaahvelous daaahling." I don't know if this is a real memory, or something I saw on a video, or even something I just made up in my head that seems to fit. It's quite possibly that last one.
3. I'm procrastinating right now.
4. I've had a lot of dream jobs in my life, but currently my goal is to be a correspondent for NPR who gets to interview interesting people and report interesting stories. Much like Terry Gross.
5. My dream broadway role is Eponine in Les Mis. I know it's cliche. Shut up.
6. I just started a book called "This Common Secret: My Life as An Abortion Doctor" by Susan Wicklund. I got interested in it after hearing the author interviewed on none other than NPR.
7. My two best friends in high school were a gay guy and a lesbian. We had endless amounts of fun. I mean good clean fun, not that kind of fun.
8. Once in a community theatre show I played a sassy, cowgirl-esque grasshopper. During one performance, I was ad-libbing and mentioned something about one of my bug relatives being squashed. Apparently a woman in the audience complained that my reference was too violent for her daughter.
9. I really like the taste of cherry Nyquil.
10. I'm not extremely into sports, but I get really cranky and angry and take it personally when a team I'm rooting for loses (I'm talking about you, Eagles)
11. I bought scalped tickets on the street for a U2 concert in Dublin. It was totally worth it.
12. Speaking of Dublin, Ireland is my favorite country in the world. Scotland comes in a close second; Nicaragua is third.
13. I lose respect for people if they don't spell or punctuate things correctly. That said, I am often guilty of these offenses myself, but when I do it it's ok. :)
14. There's a show that I watch pretty much every night of the week. Monday: House. Tuesday: Scrubs. Wednesday: Lost. Thursday: The Office. Friday: The Soup. And... every night I like to watch Jeopardy and reruns of Scrubs on Comedy Central. I also have a weakness for bad reality TV like Tool Academy, Double Shot at Love, and Ruby... but also good reality TV like Project Runway, Supernanny, and What Not to Wear.
15. I'm surprisingly good at the game SSX Tricky on Playstation 2. I also KICK ASS at Tetris and always play the hardest level of game type-B so I can get a spaceship.
16. Thinking of 25 random things about myself is really tough.
17. I only got accepted to 2 of the 7 colleges to which I applied, but ended up being really happy at Muhlenberg.
18. While at Muhlenberg, I volunteered as an ESL conversational mentor. One of the students in my session was Indian, and worked at the Dunkin' Donuts near school. He gave me free bagels and hot chocolate. It was pretty much awesome.
19. My favorite restaurant is The Olive Garden. But it's always so darn crowded!
20. I got a good piece of advice today when interviewing someone for an article. When writing an email to a potential employer, it's a good idea to write it in Word and then copy and paste it into the email. That's so you can spell-check it.
21. My grandparents on my dad's side are holocaust survivors. My grandfather doesn't know his real birthday or age. He was shot in the leg during WWII. Sorry... that was a few facts in one.
22. My apartment still doesn't have HD.
23. I used to own a red Jetta and her name was Frida. I named her that because [gory imagery to follow] there's a scene in the movie Frida where she loses her baby in bed and is surrounded by bright red blood. It's honestly the first thing I thought of when I saw my car.
24. I have this memory that always stands out in my mind of sitting on my swingset late on a summer day, looking up at the darkening sky and pondering the vastness and mystery of the universe. I was probably like 12. But it still baffles me.
25. At the house where I grew up, I had a sandbox. For my brother Mike's bar mitzvah, which was Hawaii themed and held in our backyard, my dad screwed a life-size fake palm tree into my sandbox. That's just the kind of guy my dad is.
Phew. That took a whole half hour. Now back to work... in the meantime, check out the article I wrote! I'm published!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Ewwww, Fishy.
So there are a lot of things I want to learn to do in life, and one of them is cook. My dad is a spectacular cook. He always eats things at restaurants and then goes home and recreates them perfectly (sometimes even better). And he is constantly trying out different ethnic foods so we're always sampling new tastes - Indian, Persian, Thai, Greek - you name it, he's cooked it. I can't for the life of me figure out how he comes up with such organic taste combinations, like he just intrinsically knows what goes with what.
I hope someday that I can have that intuition and gain the ability to create my own meals that make people say, "Wow, this is restaurant quality!" But in the meantime, I've got my tiny apartment kitchen, my hand-me-down pots, pans, and dinnerware, and allrecipes.com.
And though I'm no Giada De Laurentiis (much to my boyfriend's dismay), I am extremely proud of myself when I can follow a recipe and create a delicious dinner. Here's one I made last week - Lemon Garlic Tilapia with steamed snow peas and brown rice. Sure, it sounds impressive, but it was totally easy to make. In fact, fish is my new favorite thing to cook since it's SO simple. Throw a flavorful sauce on it, stick it in the oven for 15 minutes, and you've got a delicious, nutritious fillet that even people who don't normally like fish can enjoy. You can bet my kitchen will be filled with more of this in the future.
Ain't that a beauty?
Baby steps, that's all it takes.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES!
So despite the fact that it's been face-burningly cold for the past week here in the 19107, we've been out and about. We lost at Quizzo (AGAIN), once more proving that Will's random knowledge does not reach far enough to win us $20 at Doc Watson's. Also, it proves that they don't ask enough questions about literature/pop music (my expertise), and apparently that Will is gay because he's utterly useless during the sports round. I mean... the only NBA team with a sword in their symbol? He was sure it was the Sacramento Kings. Good guess, but no cigar. It was the Cleveland Cavaliers, and even I was able to guess that one. I guess being forced to watch Sports Center every morning does amount to something good.
Then Friday night I had a girls night with (you guessed it) some girl friends of mine. We did lots of random stuff, from shredding it up on guitar hero to watching How I Met Your Mother to playing Rummikub. All in all it was a good time; and made me wish I was personally friends with NPH.
Then yesterday I went to an art supply store on South Street and found some kick-ass beads which allowed me to make these kick-ass earrings. 
The ones on the left are for Nancy and the ones on the right are for our neighbor who LOVES corn. So of course when we saw the beads, we knew they were very appropriate. I could definitely see myself taking up earring-making as a hobby. I think I have an eye for good bead combinations and I'm pretty awesome at curling wire. We'll see. Considering I spent $30 at the bead store, I better get my money's worth in the amount of earrings I make.
And that brings me to today, when the Eagles face off with the Arizona Cardinals to see who is going to the Superbowl, and who is left behind, crying in their own pile of bird crap. I'm a bit scared for the Eagles... although last weekend I thought they wouldn't beat the Giants and they did. So who knows... anything could happen!
GO PHILLY! GO EAGLES!
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Inner Dialogue
Today I got to walk home from work alone, which is a treat since I usually walk with Will. When I'm traversing the streets all by my lonesome, I feel a lot like Zach Braff in one of my FAVORITE shows, Scrubs. That's because I have tons of (random) thoughts flying through my head and it would be pretty funny if there were a voice-over dictating them out loud, like there is for Zach's character, J.D.
Alas... there is no narrator for my life (just me), so I wanted to include in this blog the meandering stream of conscious that I experienced on my walk home from work today. And go!
Is it still raining out? I hope not. I'm going to put my umbrella up anyway. What if it's not raining, though, and I'm one of those freaks I hate who hold their umbrellas up even when it's not raining? Oh. It is raining. I hate when it rains. I hate having to hold my umbrella. My hand gets cold and my arm gets tired. Why is the lady in front of me walking so slow? DAMN that girl's boots are like 5 inches high. I'd probably laugh if she broke her ankle right here on the street. That's mean. Whatever, she deserves it for wearing those impractical boots. I wonder if I'll ever be rich enough to eat at that restaurant. Uh-oh, that dude in the SUV is getting pulled over by a cop. SUVs are impractical, just like that girl's boots. He probably deserves a ticket. SERIOUSLY this lady is walking slower than death. What is her deal? Is that man homeless? I hope he doesn't ask me for money. I never give homeless people money. Does that make me a bad person? Are my feet getting wet? I'm wearing galoshes, that really shouldn't happen. Maybe they're just cold. I wonder how late Will is going to get home tonight. At least it gives me a chance to play online games in peace. I have to pay the electric bill. And the gas bill. And do dishes. That's a lot of crap. I need a vacation. DAMMIT LADY HURRY UP!
And there you have it, a brief glimpse into my head. I think it explains a lot.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A Question and a Comment
First - the question. Why the hell are the doors at the Bellevue (on 15th Street) so friggin' heavy? I go there for lunch pretty frequently because there's a great food court with lots of selection (including a Bain's Deli, yum). But I seriously don't understand why I have to pull a muscle in my bicep every time I want to go in. Are they trying to deter people from entering? Do they only want massive body builders to go inside? Do they want to crush me? What did I ever do to them to deserve this treatment? Until these questions can be answered, I'll just struggle my way in, grab my Pad Thai, and struggle my way out again.
And now the comment - way to go FACEBOOK for having the weirdest ads EVER. Check out this gem:
Now if you're that suspicious of the person you're dating, you shouldn't be dating them in the first place. But I guess that's what you get for finding a boyfriend on Facebook. Right? Also, if you use this service, you're a crazy stalker.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go check if Will's parents are, in fact, his birth parents.
*NOTE: I haven't written anything about New Year's and all that jazz, but I'm going to post an entry with my resolutions soon. As you can tell, one of them was not stop procrastinating.
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