Pet Peeve: Women's Bathrooms

Did you know that a popular item in Asia (I cannot remember if it Japan or China, shame on me for the generalization) is toilet seats that play music to disguise the sounds of nature? I admit, I found the idea at once both absurd and also a great idea. If only there were neutralizing air fresheners that went off with the tune playing so all that unladylike business would be covered up like it doesn’t happen at all.

Men, you can step away for a moment, I want to speak to my female readers here.

Now, I don’t know about you, but what I have noticed is that women are often suspiciously quiet in bathroom stalls when others are in the bathroom. Obviously, we do not want to draw attention to the sounds and smells of the elimination process. Yet, I find it incredibly ironic, that these are the same strong, sensible women that take in hand (so-to-speak) changing dirty diapers, washing soiled underwear, and other rather dauntingly unclean tasks. Somehow, when it comes to public restrooms we get shy. Our bladders need assistance from the running taps or various other tricks that inspire us least we admit our humanity with the gas we pass.

The Hug Rule

Growing up, we didn’t have a ton of rules to follow, at least I didn’t. Maybe that’s because I was the youngest and my parents had already been “broken in” by my older siblings or maybe it just wasn’t Mom and Dad’s parenting style. So besides rules about going to bed on time and not talking with strangers we had the Hug Rule. The Hug Rule stated that you had to have at least four hugs a day to be sure you had enough hugs to fall asleep happy and safe. At the end of the day Mom or Dad or on special occasions both of them (they were involved with various community services that had meetings on weeknights) would come in and tuck me into my bed and ask if I had enough hugs that day. If I had enough then I would get one extra from either parent and be snuggly tucked into bed. But, if I didn’t have my fair share of hugs for the day, my parents would sometimes whisk me out of bed and down the hall to hug my sister or brother or maybe the parent who wasn’t there or even one of the cats if they hadn’t gotten themselves left outside for the night. The Hug Rule was sacred for many years in my early childhood and it’s one that I would like to spread across the world. If there were more appropriate and caring physical contact between families I think it would go a long way to people feeling more valued, more secure, and definitely more cared for. Four hugs a day, is that really asking a lot?

Remembering: Aunt G

Coming up later this month is the birthday of a women who is already dead. She was a sparkling light of energy, opinions, a strong taste for shopping, and an enormous love of cats, she was my Aunt G. Aunt G was not truly my aunt, at least not in the biological sense of the word, she was a friend of my mother’s who was a much loved part of the family. Because of her choice not to marry or have children, my siblings and I became a kind of surrogate for her. Albeit, we were 3,000 miles apart for the majority of our lives, we lived on the West Coast where my father had found a job and she lived on the East Coast in the same town my mother grew up in. She was something special and she took the time and trouble to make sure I knew she loved me and thought of me often.

Some may contest this ascertion, but I know it to be fact, I was Aunt G’s favorite. I think she always wanted a little girl and with my big gray eyes and curly hair, I imagine she was smitten with me. Of course, I also allow that I shared one of her biggest hobbies, as did my mother, shopping for jewelry. Aunt G could sniff out a deal on gorgeous Zuni fetish necklaces or find gold elephant earrings for a fraction of the wholesale’s price. It was marvelous to watch her in action because she just fell in love with the sparkle and shine of the jewels and her face and body would take on a glow with each new purchase.

Aunt G was a woman who did not understand the impact she made on the world (few of us know the important positions we hold in the lives of others). I was not very good at telling or showing her how much she contributed to my life and who I am today. When she died of cancer, my regret was immense that I never got to tell her how much I loved her. But that was also her way.

Venting Frustrations

You know how sometimes something someone says can just rub you the WRONG way? Maybe it was their timing, maybe it was extenuating circumstances related to the situation that added to the whole “straw-that-broke-the-camels-back” feeling of the communication, but whatever it was, it just caused intense, MUST RESOLVE emotions in you.

In this case it is the classic, carrot and stick method, I never seem to see the carrot (yet, somehow I believe it is out there somewhere), but the stick is a constant concrete reality that seems to bash me upside the head more often then not. So, if I have been short with people recently, on the verge of tears or perhaps screamed at you recently over the phone, in person, via IM, or e-mail, believe me when I say, it’s not you, it’s me. I am just about ready to hang up my work-ethic and run away to join the circus…although G-d’s honest truth, that looks rather demanding as well. Maybe I’ll snatch one of those “Work From Home” fliers off the side of the freeway and keep the dog company as I sell pyramid schemes to unsuspecting senior citizens and stay-at-home parents.

LA Times Festival of Books

This weekend I attended the above annual event on UCLA's campus along with two of my friends, "Red Dawn" and "Southern Gentleman". I think these two guys might actually adore literature and writing at least as much as I do, if they were combined, of course. As usual, I digress, but I must say that after attending a day at this amazing weekend, I am both chagrin and peeved that I have not gone out of my way more to try it sooner.

Southern Gentleman picked up a variety of tickets to panel discussions with the big highlight in our collective minds being Ray Bradbury's appearance. Sadly when we arrived, we discovered that Mr. Bradbury had cancelled his appearance due to illness. Luckily, he tends to appear on short notice at my favorite bookstore (Every Picture Tells a Story).

The true highlight of this even in my mind was seeing Ray Harryhausen in conversation with Richard Schickel, his longtime friend who was a film critic and producer of documentary films. If you do not know who Harryhausen is, well, you must've had a very different kind of childhood then I did. Harryhausen movies were a staple of my weekends alongside the habitual classic war movies my brother enjoyed. His amazing stop motion creatures creations were innovative and imaginative, not to mention thoroughly captivating.

The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad and Clash of the Titans are just two of my favorite examples of Harryhausen masterpieces. While he may not be the inventor of stop motion special effects in early cinema, his work is the most well known. His Cyclops, Hydra, Medusa are linked inexorably to my youth and who can forget his army of skeleton warriors? Schickel seemed more interested in getting Harryhausen's take on remakes of his creatures, ie Peter Jackson's King Kong. Harryhausen was appropriately modest and although Schikel baited him (this is my interpretation), Harryhausen remained the gentlemen, even if he did think that the relationship between Kong and his leading lady in the movie became ridiculously sexualized. I have not seen Mr. Jackson's film yet, so if someone could fill me in on the parts I missed, that would be great.

Harryhausen said several interesting quotes that give you a real sense of him as a living legend:
"Fantasy shouldn't be analyzed."
"The past is more romantic then the future."
"Everyone wants to be a critic."

Southern Gentleman was ensnared in the giant community crosswords that were put up sporatically around the event. He is a crossword nut, just like my roomate, The Brown One. So Red Dawn and I walked around the many bookstore stalls, my bag becoming heavier and heavier as I saw one after the other book that I "HAD TO HAVE". Granted, I should've been more careful about my purchases, but I was like a kid in a candy store and rational thought flew right out the window.

After a quick lunch, the three of us went to a panel on Quirky Non-fiction feature moderator Megan Daum, a LA Times Columist. The authors were Veronica Chambers(Mama's Girl, The Joy of Doing Things Badly), June Casagrande (A Word Please, Grammer Snobs are Great Big Meanies), and Martin Smith (Poplorica, Oops : 20 Life Lessons from the Fiascoes That Shaped America). This was an intersting panel, but probably not one I would attend again since I so rarely have enough material to write non-fiction topic specific stories. Of course, I still have no clue what kind of writer I am or want to be. Mostly, I just write for me.

Instant Dads

I went to an Independent film screening premiere last night. When I first finished film school I attended a lot of film openings like this, many of them worked on by fellow graduates and a few that I even did the production or post production audio on. Now, I’m lucky if I am invited to see a truly independent film once a year, so I considered this a big treat. To add to my delight, 2 close friends of mine who composed original music for the film’s score were asked to perform live before the screening.

From the handout provided to guests of the screening:
Plot for Instant Dads
A film about a guy, Steven (who happens to be gay), who’s ex-girlfriend from high school, Nancy, shows up with a surprise, their 10 year old son Luke! Nancy never told Steven that she got pregnant on prom night with his child (the only girl Steven ever slept with by the way). Nancy reappeared in Steven’s life dying of cancer. She informs Steven that her last wish is to have him “the natural father” adopt Luke. WOW what a blow for a guy who is in a relationship with another guy and neither one of them has a clue on how to raise a 10 year old kid! After many talks with his boyfriend Peter, Steven decides that he will make Nancy’s dying wish come true, but NOT without a CRASH COURSE FIRST!

For someone tackling writing, directing, and acting to take on such serious and controversial subject matter was a big risk in my estimation. Instant Dads succeeds on many levels. First the main cast was first rate, especially Dominic Janes who plays Luke. Child actors can be challenging for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being their ability to portray sadness, anger, and uncertainty with a degree of believability. Luke was without a doubt phenomenal. It helped, that Maki writes him to be a wise 10 year old that has had to grow up fast due to his mother’s serious illness. Dominic is being rewarded for his hard work and dedication to his craft, he has a recurring role as Alex Taggart on ER.

The second major success for filmmaker Maki was having Universal studios agree to let him film at their Citywalk. He took advantage of this location using a café, a toy store, and the front of the movie theater for different parts of the film. These authentic locations lent to the overall professional feel of the film. Also Maki’s willingness to use many locations; houses, cars, parks really gave the film an authentic quality that many low budget pictures cannot afford.

You really care about the characters in Instant Dads and this is due to a combination of the script and the actors. This is a cohesive and heartfelt effort from all involved. What I like about the film is although there are many songs and the score is well executed, it is not wall to wall music. In fact, the music is so well integrated into the movie that it contributes to the overall emotion of the piece. Kudos to whoever chooses the placement of the songs since they integrate so well. High praise to my friends who had previously never composed for film, I am thrilled that they were involved in such a superb first effort.

Please Pray

I am a big believer in the power of prayer. A dear friend of mine from work heard last night that his father suffered a severe stroke. If you pray, please include him and his family in the thoughts you send to your chosen entity. My friend will be flying to the state where his dad is tomorrow morning and any good things we can send his way might hopefully mitigate the fear and helplessness he is feeling.

Thank you.

UPDATE: Sadly, my friend's dad passed away. Please continue to pray for him and his family if you are able. I believe it makes a difference, your faith, your love, your spirit contribute to the healing of others and yourself.

Earth Day April 22, 2006

Happy Earth Day dear readers! This Earth Day I spent in Northern California at my parent’s house. My father was taking part in the local clean-up in some nearby areas operated and overseen by the Park’s District so I decided to join him. We got started early and the city provided breakfast and buses to 3 different sites that needed our attention. My father had the task of greeting volunteers and setting up lunch while I went with a group to a recreational park that also serves as a summer nature camp for kids.

The rangers pointed out where the stream in the park had overrun its banks and left debris in the water and on surrounding banks. Our task was to remove the leaves and dead foliage from the living plants and put it into a pile to compost a bit further downstream. While some of us were handing that, others were recruited to bring in gravel and build up a trail that was washed away. Upon completion of this work a large wooden bridge was installed across the stream to provide easy access from one side of the park to the other.

The group of volunteers I was with at the park of included a school teacher from the High School I attended, a member of the city’s beautification committee, kids ranging from toddlers to teenagers, and 4 park rangers (one rather unfortunately named Ranger Rick, I am NOT kidding). Having helped found the Environmental Club when I was in High School, I was happy to see a lot of older teenagers who were wearing sweatshirts and hats from my alma mater.

Once all the volunteers from the various worksites were bused back to the original location lunch was provided. We were also treated to educational pamphlets on keeping your garden bug free using non-toxic means, recycling used motor oil and filters, recycling batteries, keeping water and air clean. We got some really well made, ORGANIC t-shirts. Breakfast, a snack, lunch, and a free t-shirt…I should volunteer more often huh?

Second Successful Seder

Close friends, delicious food, ample wine, a thrilling saga of danger and triumph, and finger puppets, what more could a Jewess want? Besides a little bacon, nothing. Kidding, kidding, please do not reign pestalence upon my crop for a little Kosher joking.

On Wednesday night, April 12th, my roommates and I hosted our second Seder at our humble abode. oh boy, if each and every Seder is supposed to top the next one then this one was right on track.

The menu was typical Jewish fare (at least for a girl who grew up in Northern California). We had apricot chicken, pot roast, matzoh, and the apple and walnut charoset that I grew up with (although my Dad still makes it better then I do, but I've only made it a dozen times while he has been making it for over 30 years). The Brown One and Jedi were kind enough to cook delicious side dishes. The Brown One also bought us a beautiful new Passover Seder plate that was much needed after the Seder plate I made a couple of years ago at Color Me Mine got broken in the move.

The Brown One also contributed the most hilarious new element to our Seder meal, the 10 Plague Puppets. Not sure if everyone has seen these, but they're 10 exquisitely crafted finger puppets, my favorite has to be a tie between Darkness and Locust. Hail is pretty darn funny with his Carrottop hair. For our Seder we let each participant choose a puppet and then read about the cooresponding plague it pertained to, but here's the catch, you had to read the passage in the type of voice you think your plague would have.

We had plague, Death of the First Born, from New York, the Southern Belle Locust plague, and other ludicrous pairings. Our friend Blinky and Koosh were expecially fond of their plagues, Lice and Wild Animals. I tell you, I don't think you have experienced the true freedom and joy of Passover without Ten Plague Puppets.

We didn't have all of this frolic and food without remembering the true reason for the holiday. Our Passover was dedicated to those men, women, and children suffering hunger, rape, war, and an uncertain future in Darfur. We were reminded why we should treasure our freedom from persecution for color, religion, sexual preference, or political convictions. We affirmed that while there remains one person chained, beaten down, murdered for there beliefs we must be their voice, and we cannot stop shouting until we are heard.

As I looked around the table at my friends who are so different from me, hearing them read the story of Moses leading his people out of Pharoah's Egypt. Telling this beautiful tale of freedom from oppression I felt that my heart would burst with the love and goodwill. Next year in Jerusalem.

Me and Stephen King: Reading Soulmates?

I was reading Stephen King’s top 10 books of 2005 today on the Entertainment Weekly Website and was surprised to find that one book I just finished and one I am currently in the middle of are on his list.

First there is Saturday by Ian McEwan. This is the third book that I have read by the author and I admit that his writing style is so descriptive that it takes some getting used to. I prefer to listen to his books versus reading them. The added benefit is that the reader is British so he really captures the more English expressions and contemporary slang terms that are not used here in the United States. There are mellifluous passages that goon page after page describing the minutiae of the main character, Henry Perowne’s day. Since the book takes place over the course of one Saturday in the main character’s life you are able to read every thought he has, every impulse he acts on and know exactly where within the body of his emotional, financial, professional, personal, and physical life this single day occurs.

This is a complex read, not advisable for anyone looking for a beach book or easily followed mystery. The beautiful paragraphs that talk about Perowne’s love for his wife, Rosalind are startling in their intimacies. Sometimes when the author wrote about their deep, abiding, and still passionate love for each other after raising their two adult children I have cause to smile and think of people in my own family who have been together for decades and share a past that contains mutual respect and adoration. I enjoyed this read more then Atonement and Black Dogs and feel that it is the most personal book I have read by McEwan.

The second book mentioned by King is Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories and I am chagrin to admit that I put this tasty morsel down after 200 pages to read King’s newest bestseller Cell (Jedi raved about it and that in and of itself was enough to intrigue me, but 2 friends who also have blogs-theirs are specifically used to review books also had good things to say about this latest offering). Atkinson’s book jumps around quite a bit, but once you catch onto the writing style it proves to be a fast paced, detail oriented read well worth the adjustment. I will be picking it back up this week and maybe just for kicks I’ll start at the beginning.

Charge: Odd Food Collector, Verdict: Guilty

I like going to all sorts of specialty markets and buying obscure or difficult to find items. In the past, these purchases have included dried grated turnip, jars of dulce de leche, hunks of sweet sticky guava paste, Jerusalem artichokes, star fruit, tahini, and kasha. Now some of the previous list you might recognize from Ralph’s or Von’s, but would you know what to do with them once you get them home? Yep, me either. Therefore languishing in fridge drawers and cupboards are the lotus root and red bean paste that seemed so inspiring while browsing the aisles of an Asian market near my house. Yet they keep each other company in the refrigerator awaiting the day when I will reach for them to inspire and motivate my outrageously misguided palate.

Other offenses include yummy, delicious, amazing anchovy wrapped capers in extra virgin olive oil. In my defense I bought these full well intending to eat them. They were a purchase made in the depths of nostalgia for the wondrous meals my Grandparents would cobble together of various pickled items, leftover roast beef, and vegetables galore. Never would I have thought that seedless rye bread spread with a thin coating of unsalted real dairy whipped butter and a smidge of real mayonnaise topped with several anchovy filets (looking almost flowerlike around their caper center) could taste like heaven. Albeit, salty, full-fat heaven, but such simplicity can be the right combinations to make me wax nostalgic. What I never counted on when I bought the tin of anchovies was how incredibly difficult it is to find fresh baked seedless rye here on the West Coast. Yeah, I know, cry me a river, my life is SO hard.

Is there something unmentionable lurking in your cabinets or veggie drawer? Maybe in the dark, cold climate of your freezer? Let me know, I don’t want to be the only one collecting weird foodstuff.

My Pirate Name

My pirate name is:

Mad Ethel Kidd

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from fidius.org.

Scent Memories

Have you ever noticed that particular smells remind you of certain times, places, and people? Your sense of smell is a strong trigger for memories. Here are a few of mine:

Violet Water – this smell reminds me of my Mom, especially when combined with the scent of Youth Dew perfume. I would often sneak sprizes of these toilet waters from my Mom’s dresser where she kept her perfume selections. These remind me the most of her.

Rising Bread Dough – the yeasty warm smell of bread dough that is “resting” before being baked never fails to invoke thoughts of my Father who used to prepare fresh bread every weekend during my early childhood. Old Spice also can remind me of my Dad, or the smell of a pipe which he stopped smoking before I was a teenager. Going into a tobacco shop can instantly bring to mind my father’s pipe clasp between his teeth on Fall afternoons while he was changing the oil on the cars in the drive-way.

Drakkar Noir – I remember my brother drenching himself with this assault on your nostrils that he would call cologne. I think he thought it’s scent would seduce the teenage girls into ignoring his heiniously bad 80s hairdo and have them falling at his feet.

Chalk and oil paints – these always bring me back to my first art teacher who was a friend of my family’s through our temple. In fact, her mom was my Sunday School teacher at one point. My art teacher was maybe in her late teens when she showed me how to use watercolors, charcoal, and pastels to render faces, hands, and inanimate objects on a page. She even explained to me the meaning of the Car’s song “Who’s Gonna Drive You Home Tonight” when my youthful inexperience thought it was about someone drinking too much at a bar.

Peaches – whenever I smell peaches, even in my bubble bath last night I can’t help but think of my Grandma on my father’s side. She liked Peach Schnapp’s and would offer it to us kids every now and then. It was such a treat that sweet peachy goodness it made me feel like an adult sharing something special with her.

Clean Laundry – when laundry is fresh and warm straight out of the dryer the smell sets off a cascade of feline memories for me. All the cats I have had or known have loved clean, warm sheets, underwear, shirts, and jeans to knead, burrow under, or simple curl up on.

Chlorine – reminds me of my Mother’s parents, my Nana and Papa who had pool when I was little and I closely associate the smell of chlorine

Marlo Thomas Makes Me Smile

The Brown One mentioned in passing one day that she had the DVD for “Free to Be You and Me” that I might remember from my childhood. Remember…oh boy…I kid you not when I say that right after my fetish for the full cast movie recording Annie, Free to Be You and Me was my favorite nostalgia album from pre-teen youth. Now, not only was I getting to relieve the music, but I was finding out that there was a whole TV special that this exuberant child geared music came from.

What a magical Saturday morning we had watching this DVD chock full of confidence boasting messages for boys and girls of every age, religion, and ethnicity. One of the most endearing scenes is between a young Michael Jackson and Roberta Flack singing a song called “When I Grow Up” that affirms children are valued for who they are, not what they are. They also pay tribute to working parents (believe me when I say, every parent is a working parent) in a song sang by Marlo Thomas and Harry Belafonte called “Parents are People”. Rosey Grier passably vocalizes on “It’s Alright to Cry”, but it is his sincerity and charm that make this one of my choice performances on the DVD. Here’s a sample of his lyrics:

It's all right to cry
Crying takes the mad out of you
It's all right to cry
It might make you feel better!

He ends the song with "It's all right to cry little boy -- I know some big boys who cry too."

Not surprisingly this positive, heartfelt TV special garnered an Emmy Award for containing such understandable messages about gender roles in “William Wants a Doll” and teaching the difference between good help and help no one wants in “Helping”. Let me say that this show stands the test of time, the lyrics to the music came back to me as if I had just watched the DVD yesterday. Marlo Thomas was instrumental in helping all children when she set out to make this piece with the idea that was born--according to the liner notes--by the desire to provide her niece with music "to celebrate who she was and who she could be."

Whatever your age, this is a terrific DVD, full of affirmations about the changes associated with growing up.

Who Will Speak for You?

For St. Paddy’s Day I had the pleasure of a traditional corned beef and cabbage dinner with some friends. The couple whose house these festivities were at had recently changed jobs and the lady of the house, we will call her the Queen of Karaoke (QK for short, her boyfriend is Blondie from previous posts) in honor of her boyfriend’s gift to her of a Karaoke machine that hooks into their TV, had recently begun working for a non-profit group called Jewish World Watch. JWW is an organization that is currently advocating for the people of Darfur, Sudan, but the overall concept of the group is to make good on the idea that as human beings we must not allow another Holocaust no matter what name is used to make it more socially palatable. Mass killing, violation of human rights, blocking of aid and relief efforts should bring outrage and uproar to those living with the blessings of freedom.

Currently, JWW is promoting a Passover Advocacy Project. At QK’s house she had 3x5 cards that had been filled out by school children of a variety of ages. Reading those notes was both heart wrenching and hilarious. Heart wrenching, because it's difficult to imagine children with food, housing, peace, and freedom in their home life having to advocate for children who have nothing and hilarious because a first grader is taking our President to task for not living up to his words, “Not on my watch”.

Thinking about the everyday struggles in Darfur make me want a better world for the future and for the children growing up there. I have decided to make their Advocacy Project a part of my Passover Seder this year. Passover is my favorite Jewish Holiday and it will have a special meaning this year as we sit down to tell the story of how Moses brought freedom to the Jews under Egypt’s Pharoah’s rule and we write letters to our representatives in Washington to bring attention to the suffering of men, women, and children in Darfur. Turning a blind eye to the rape, terror, and murder of an entire people is not the legacy I want for this great nation.

You can help stop the atrocities in Darfur from the comfort of your computer, simply go to this website and send an e-mail (conveniently provided here) to President Bush asking him to live up to his words and help the Sudanese people stop the violence and bring much needed aid to the area.

I leave you with this poem attributed to Pastor Martin Niemoller (a controversial figure for his support of Hitler prior to his persecution by the Third Reich) about how German intellectuals responded to the Nazi rise in power:

First they came…

When they came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews.
I did not speak out;
I was not a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

All I Want to Be is ....EVERYTHING!

Often over the past 7 years I have wanted to have a career different from the one I have. This has lead to fantasies about working in fields that actually make a difference, that help people, animals, soceity as a whole, or fulfill my want to feel special and/or important. Instead, I am a cog in a large industrial machine and the realization of my more altruistic side is found through volunteer work, charitable donations, and armchair political activism.

Below are some of the jobs or in some cases careers that have attracted my attention or been my aspiration in the previous years.

*Forensic Pathologist-I imagine working with the dead would be peaceful, but also interesting. My respect for the bodies they leave behind and the information gathered by Pathologist is useful in alleviating family’s grief, solving crimes, and improving science. The amount of school I would need to go back for to do this job makes it financially prohibitive.
*EMT/Paramedic-Helping people is the central draw of this career path. Not to mention the excitement and critical thinking involved. I have an Uncle who does this and he is tall and strong with a calm, deep voice. Being short of stature and a women, the physical requirements are daunting, especially when you consider the possibility of needing to carry someone down countless flights of stairs safely.
*Editor-I love reading and writing, but aside from that have no real qualifications that would recommend me to this position.
*Adventure Racing-You may have guessed that I am a huge fan of Mark Burnett’s Eco-challenge on the Discover Channel. I love watching teams push past there human limits and show an endurance of the mind and mastery of the body that you see in very few sports. The Kayaking, Biking, Hiking, River Rafting, Map reading, and interpersonal interaction is appealing to me. I like the comradery and the variety of events, and think I could handle them well if I were in better physical condition. Something unique to this sport is that most of the participants are not in their twenties, they are instead seasoned athletes who know their strengths and weaknesses. A girl like me is more cut out to consider this strictly a spectator sport.
*Author-Same pros and cons as being an editor, plus I am uncertain if I possess the self-motivation required to sit at a desk for 8 hours a day writing.

Random Questions with 4 Answers

I stole this from a friend’s blog.

Four jobs I've had:
*Making pizza for a take’n’bake shop in Northern California
*Assistant Sound Operator/Designer for American Musical Theater of San Jose (formerly known as San Jose Civic Light Opera when I worked there)
*Hostess at Carrows Restaurant (waking up at the cruel hour of 4AM to spend 8 hours on my feet…I am in awe of people who do this everyday, they are amazing.)
*Assistant to a VP at a large television company

Four movies I can watch over and over:
*Labyrinth (Duh…this is the movie I celebrate with, I cry with…I love this movie…or maybe it’s just David Bowie’s wardrobe)
*Super Troopers (the crash humor in this is a delight)
*Blood Simple (the Cohen Brothers at there absolute best…fascinating noir thriller)
*Cider House Rules (taken from my favorite John Irving book, Tobey McGuire is superb and Michael Cain is heartbreaking in this excellent adaptation)

Four places I've lived:
*Northridge, CA
*Sherman Oaks, CA
*Burbank, CA
*Los Angeles, CA (near USC)

Four TV shows I love:
*Oz
*The Muppet Show
*The Shield (best show on TV)
*Investigative Reports

Four places I've vacationed:
*Oahu, Hawaii
*Mammoth, CA
*Disneyworld in Florida
*Williamsburg, West Virginia

Four of my favorite dishes:
*My matzo ball soup
*My dad’s coleslaw (and he makes great waffles)
*My mom’s pot roast (she does an incredible NY Cheesecake that is so dense and rich it’s like being in the Big Apple)
*My boyfriend’s baked apples (and he also makes pretty darn good pancakes too)

Four sites I visit daily:
*CNN
*NPR
*FARK
*IMDB (usually work related)

Four places I would rather be right now:
*at home reading
*Peru hanging with the sloths
*Brazil eating the fantastic food that I have heard about there.
*In my car finishing up the book on tape I am listening to.

Spiritual Journey Cultivates Intrigue

In the doctor’s office today I was reading a National Geographics Travel Guide of some kind It looked a lot like the Nat Geo magazine from my childhood, but instead of simply showing beautiful pictures of exotic locals, it gave the reader the information needed to travel to those edges of the world and see the amazing plants, animals, and people shown and talked about in the articles. (I found out later that the magazine is called “Adventure”, I think I am going to subscribe and drool all over the incredible pictures and stories from all parts of this wonderful planet).

The story of one traveler fascinated me no end, it was the experiences of Kira, the author, on a trip down the Amazon in Peru to experience a spiritual/physical journey using ayahuasca (containing the hallucinogen DMT), a “shaman medicinal ritual”. The article goes on to describe a frightening, but fascinating incident that has healing aspects for the writer and various responses from the other fairly typical European and American participants. The ayahuasca, which is mixed by the Shaman is said to have healing properties ranging from curing cancer to alleviating severe depression (as attested to by the writer). I was captivated by the internal journey explored using this mixture and it very much reminded me of a college friends stories of trying Peyote buttons with his Native American Grandfather when he reached adulthood.

In no way am I advocating illicit drug activity, but this ritual is something I equivocate mildly with the indulgence in wine that my religion is involved in to celebrate Passover (my favorite of all Jewish holidays, even before I liked wine). They are both means to expand ones daily boundaries and indulge in rites that our ancestors did. This aspect of the shaman’s ritual, that it has gone before us and will continue after each of us is dead is suggestive of the continuity of live. Of course, one could argue that penguins lived in the arctic before I was born and will also be there after I die and that there is a timeless quality in that as well. As usual, I digress, when what I really mean to say is that I am intrigued by the authors abilities to depart the everyday 9-5 lifestyle and travel to a country with a past, with religious views and rituals so different from my own.

After reading this article I am more inspired to visit Peru then ever before. Not only for their rich tropical foliage and unique wildlife (specifically the three toed sloths that I have seen in Peruvian Market pictures-although I would be happier to see them in the jungle then in captivity…they look like Muppets!).

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Exhausted and Overwhelming: Solving the Schedule Crisis

Exhaustion has been a constant the past couple of weeks. Whenever I yawn, rub my eyes, stretch my back, and yearn for sleep I think I should call the doctor. Sadly, I suspect the truth of the matter is that I am not sick in the least and that I am simply overscheduled. Let’s take a look at a typical week for yours truly, Miss Megastein:

-Go to 40 hour a week job (my commute is about an hour each direction).
-Have lunch with a friend or co-worker a minimum of three times per week.
-Enjoy dinner out or some event with my significant other and/friends at least five times a week.
-Have two scheduled events during each weekend (last weekend was outrageous, Friday night I attended a jam band concert, Saturday was Book Club followed by an evening at the symphony, and Sunday was Nascar out at the California Speedway.).

At the end of December I moved and here it is March and I am still unpacking (granted, the roommate whose place I am taking did not move until the end of January). Yep, no doubt about it, I am overbooking myself. Heck, I have things on my schedule all the way out until November of this year. Plus I feel this enormous drive to take the scuba lessons I received as a birthday gift, but the time commitment is daunting (it’s really not all that much, but right now to my way of thinking the payoff would add to my schedule crisis). In this state of mind even my netflicks movies seem to be taunting me with my inability to watch them in a timely manner.

So, dear reader, I need to cut back. I need to rearrangement my responsibilities, obligations, needs, and wants in a way that give me more structure and additional energy. I know what I need to do and like the old Saturday morning interstitials say, “Knowing is half the battle”. It’s the execution of said knowledge that is overwhelming. So baby steps it will be. I’m going to check out a gym with my roommate this weekend, which seems like as good a place as any to start.