I've been approached to provide a sample advice column for a friend's tiny publication that, IMHO, could actually grow into something interesting. She's looking for something a little snarky, but with true advisory merit. I'm hoping I can pull it off and become the next controversial syndicated advice columnist from Seattle.
What I'm having trouble with, unfortunately, is coming up with questions to which I can respond authentically. Obviously, when I make up the questions, I'm doing so with an eye to how I'd like to respond. This isn't working for me creatively, nor do I think it's likely to result in good product.
This is where you come in. I would love, love, LOVE it if my dear friends (you) could send me some advice-column-worthy questions -- real or not, yours or not -- that I could use as a starting point for my teeny, tiny endeavor. Please email me or post in the comments.
I'm not sure how this is going to go, so I'm not going to make any guarantees about actually getting back to you with a response, just so you know.
Thanks for your help!
Sunday, September 27
Thursday, September 10
Heartache
My most recent relationship has come to an end. I had high hopes, but it's clear to me now that it was wishful thinking.
In many ways, she is exactly what I'd want. It would be difficult to find someone who has so many of the qualities I find both attractive and necessary. Unfortunately, there's also a handful of things that I just don't know what to do with.
I thought I could provide the loving and supportive environment she would need to be her best self. Perhaps I fooled myself into thinking I know what her best self could look like, but I think it's more likely that she's interested in other goals. I suppose I could've changed my thinking about how I could be loving and supportive to better match her ideas, but many of the things she wasn't interested in "improving" were, ultimately, hurtful.
Sadly, I reacted to the perceived rejection of my love and support with my worst self. Jealousy, anger, control, and other self-destructive goodies bubbled to the surface, and are now tainting our friendship. At least on my end. She says she doesn't care, and I think I believe her. "I don't care," is a horrible thing to hear from someone you love.
So now I find myself needing to do the impossible: move on. Somewhere I have to find the part of my brain that wants to fix things, to save things, and turn it off. (I was going to type "kill it," but decided that may have been too dramatic and self-indulgent. As if a break-up post isn't self-indulgent enough.)
I feel diminished not having someone to care for. My self-image has taken another knock as I objectively evaluate my behavior in our relationship. I'm angry about the slights I've tolerated during our relationship, and those I'm experiencing now.
Two years ago I was going to take some time off from dating. I wanted to focus on work and graduate school and myself, creating the life I want for myself. And while I was thinking about all of this (and preparing to blog about it, of course), I browsed through the personals on Craigslist. And I saw her ad. I recognized her as someone I'd had a crush on for years, but who always dismissed me when I tried to talk to her. I think she had her sights on someone else at the time. Regardless, I talked myself into taking one last chance. What could it hurt, just one date to see how things might go? They went well. They were great. For most of the next eighteen months, they just got better. I miss those days, and regret that things have ended this way.
Now I grieve for what was, and what could have been. I put the good memories aside for better days, and try to learn the lessons from the difficult times. I get back to focusing on career and graduate school. And, eventually, I'll heal.
In many ways, she is exactly what I'd want. It would be difficult to find someone who has so many of the qualities I find both attractive and necessary. Unfortunately, there's also a handful of things that I just don't know what to do with.
I thought I could provide the loving and supportive environment she would need to be her best self. Perhaps I fooled myself into thinking I know what her best self could look like, but I think it's more likely that she's interested in other goals. I suppose I could've changed my thinking about how I could be loving and supportive to better match her ideas, but many of the things she wasn't interested in "improving" were, ultimately, hurtful.
Sadly, I reacted to the perceived rejection of my love and support with my worst self. Jealousy, anger, control, and other self-destructive goodies bubbled to the surface, and are now tainting our friendship. At least on my end. She says she doesn't care, and I think I believe her. "I don't care," is a horrible thing to hear from someone you love.
So now I find myself needing to do the impossible: move on. Somewhere I have to find the part of my brain that wants to fix things, to save things, and turn it off. (I was going to type "kill it," but decided that may have been too dramatic and self-indulgent. As if a break-up post isn't self-indulgent enough.)
I feel diminished not having someone to care for. My self-image has taken another knock as I objectively evaluate my behavior in our relationship. I'm angry about the slights I've tolerated during our relationship, and those I'm experiencing now.
Two years ago I was going to take some time off from dating. I wanted to focus on work and graduate school and myself, creating the life I want for myself. And while I was thinking about all of this (and preparing to blog about it, of course), I browsed through the personals on Craigslist. And I saw her ad. I recognized her as someone I'd had a crush on for years, but who always dismissed me when I tried to talk to her. I think she had her sights on someone else at the time. Regardless, I talked myself into taking one last chance. What could it hurt, just one date to see how things might go? They went well. They were great. For most of the next eighteen months, they just got better. I miss those days, and regret that things have ended this way.
Now I grieve for what was, and what could have been. I put the good memories aside for better days, and try to learn the lessons from the difficult times. I get back to focusing on career and graduate school. And, eventually, I'll heal.
Wednesday, March 4
Change of address
My favorite part about reading -- or at least browsing -- through a happy ton of news and information each day is the discovery of sweet little gems like the Micronesian island of Niue. I suddenly have a desperate desire to live in a place whose name translates as "Behold the Coconut."
Google’s Digitized Book Project Hinges on a Retro Kind of Search - NYTimes.com: "So far, more than 200 advertisements have run in more than 70 languages: in highbrow periodicals like The New York Review of Books and The Poetry Review in Britain; in general-interest publications like Parade and USA Today; in obscure foreign trade journals like China Copyright and Svensk Bokhandel; and in newspapers in places like Fiji, Greenland, the Falkland Islands, and the Micronesian island of Niue (the name is roughly translated as Behold the Coconut!), which has one newspaper."
Google’s Digitized Book Project Hinges on a Retro Kind of Search - NYTimes.com: "So far, more than 200 advertisements have run in more than 70 languages: in highbrow periodicals like The New York Review of Books and The Poetry Review in Britain; in general-interest publications like Parade and USA Today; in obscure foreign trade journals like China Copyright and Svensk Bokhandel; and in newspapers in places like Fiji, Greenland, the Falkland Islands, and the Micronesian island of Niue (the name is roughly translated as Behold the Coconut!), which has one newspaper."
Simply the Best
BBC NEWS | Entertainment | Tina turns back time in UK return
I'd sell a kidney to see this amazing performer live on stage. I MUST find out if she's planning a show with 300 miles of me!
No surprise to me, but according to this review, she's still got it, too!
I'd sell a kidney to see this amazing performer live on stage. I MUST find out if she's planning a show with 300 miles of me!
No surprise to me, but according to this review, she's still got it, too!
Wednesday, February 25
My recommendation
If you're not already following the White House blog, I encourage you to do so. For those not aware, the Clinton White House had a great website, and provided mailing lists on a variety of topics, which was a good way to keep on eye on the happenings in D.C.
The Bush administration was practically covert in terms of their direct communication with citizens, which I feel is counter to the spirit of democracy.
It is refreshing to have this sort of daily access again. The more of us who use this tool during this presidency, the more likely, I hope, it will be that future administrations choose to provide direct communication channels to the people.
Here's hoping.
The White House - Blog Post - Overhaul
The Bush administration was practically covert in terms of their direct communication with citizens, which I feel is counter to the spirit of democracy.
It is refreshing to have this sort of daily access again. The more of us who use this tool during this presidency, the more likely, I hope, it will be that future administrations choose to provide direct communication channels to the people.
Here's hoping.
The White House - Blog Post - Overhaul
Tuesday, February 24
No official berry for Oregon.
Best quote: Given stickier economic issues to deal with, she says, she's "not going to bat over internal disputes in the berry community."
Never get involved in a land war in Asia, and never go to bat over internal disputes in the berry community. Good advice for us all.
Local News | Not enough sweet talk: Ore. state berry squished | Seattle Times Newspaper
Never get involved in a land war in Asia, and never go to bat over internal disputes in the berry community. Good advice for us all.
Local News | Not enough sweet talk: Ore. state berry squished | Seattle Times Newspaper
Saturday, January 3
Books, books and more books
The move from Boston to Seattle was traumatic. I had been laid off from my favorite job ever, my relationship of more than six years had ended, and I had to find a way to ship something like 15 boxes of books across North America without spending the entirety of my meager savings.
Three moves later, and I was still hauling boxes of books from apartment to apartment, rarely even getting them unpacked and on the shelves, let alone organized. Or read.
Looking through one of these boxes one day a couple of years ago, I realized I had only read one of the books in the box. And that wasn't technically a "read," as it was a Japanese-English character dictionary from college. I realized then I had an addiction, and that something had to change. The addiction to be addressed, obviously, wasn't my compulsive need to read everything, but was instead the foolish acquisition of dozens of books each year. (Ah, Powell's, you sweet, sweet temptress!)
The books were literally weighing me down every time I needed to move, so I started to trim my collection. College textbooks and weird -- but thoughtful -- gifts were the first to go. Then books I'd read but had no intention of re-reading. Finally I was down to a few signed books, books I love reading again and again, a few sentimental attachments, and a couple of dozen of books I'd yet to read. And even then I decided to make a list and get rid of those and get them from the library when I finally get around to reading them.
I've been reminded of this oppressive sense of attachment and weight these past two weeks, as I've been responsible for moving two -- yes, two -- libraries. The first is the private library of my employer, and the second is an LGBT community library that recently lost its home.
The employer's library is mostly reference books, and is housed in the office. It's moving floors to a more accessible and interesting location. I'm appalled by the subjective and poorly-executed organizational system in use, and I'm trying to refrain from offering to re-organize the whole thing so it makes sense and becomes more usable. (With fully searchable catalog, of course.) But more on that later.
The community library used to be housed at the LGBT community center, but financial troubles has forced the center into restructuring. The services and the library are now being provided through another community non-profit, and I've joined the board of the center to try and get the organization back on its feet and into their own space. It's going to take some work, but it's definitely do-able.
[As an aside, being on a board is hard work, and involves a great deal of responsibility. If you are ever asked, and can't hack it, please don't get involved. Having seen the mess made by the neglect of formerly involved individuals, I know have much less respect for folks I use to consider community leaders. I'll say no more here, but my friend-confessor has heard an earful.]
If anything, both of these experiences has reaffirmed my commitment to maintaining a pared-down personal library. I love books. I love reading. The last two years have been "slow" reading years, in my estimation, and I read 50 and 97 books, respectively, in 2007 and 2008. But this is why I have a borderline erotic fixation on the Seattle Public Library. (Well, really just any public library. I'm a library slut.)
But I love touching books and looking at books and arranging books and cataloging books and searching for books. And this made me think that I also love answering questions and searching for answers and finding new sources of information. So maybe what I really need to do is work at a library. Of course, I can't just work at a library, I'll have to run a library. I guess this means I'm going to have to get that Masters in Library and Information Sciences degree after all.
And I guess that's the point of all this.
Toodles.
Three moves later, and I was still hauling boxes of books from apartment to apartment, rarely even getting them unpacked and on the shelves, let alone organized. Or read.
Looking through one of these boxes one day a couple of years ago, I realized I had only read one of the books in the box. And that wasn't technically a "read," as it was a Japanese-English character dictionary from college. I realized then I had an addiction, and that something had to change. The addiction to be addressed, obviously, wasn't my compulsive need to read everything, but was instead the foolish acquisition of dozens of books each year. (Ah, Powell's, you sweet, sweet temptress!)
The books were literally weighing me down every time I needed to move, so I started to trim my collection. College textbooks and weird -- but thoughtful -- gifts were the first to go. Then books I'd read but had no intention of re-reading. Finally I was down to a few signed books, books I love reading again and again, a few sentimental attachments, and a couple of dozen of books I'd yet to read. And even then I decided to make a list and get rid of those and get them from the library when I finally get around to reading them.
I've been reminded of this oppressive sense of attachment and weight these past two weeks, as I've been responsible for moving two -- yes, two -- libraries. The first is the private library of my employer, and the second is an LGBT community library that recently lost its home.
The employer's library is mostly reference books, and is housed in the office. It's moving floors to a more accessible and interesting location. I'm appalled by the subjective and poorly-executed organizational system in use, and I'm trying to refrain from offering to re-organize the whole thing so it makes sense and becomes more usable. (With fully searchable catalog, of course.) But more on that later.
The community library used to be housed at the LGBT community center, but financial troubles has forced the center into restructuring. The services and the library are now being provided through another community non-profit, and I've joined the board of the center to try and get the organization back on its feet and into their own space. It's going to take some work, but it's definitely do-able.
[As an aside, being on a board is hard work, and involves a great deal of responsibility. If you are ever asked, and can't hack it, please don't get involved. Having seen the mess made by the neglect of formerly involved individuals, I know have much less respect for folks I use to consider community leaders. I'll say no more here, but my friend-confessor has heard an earful.]
If anything, both of these experiences has reaffirmed my commitment to maintaining a pared-down personal library. I love books. I love reading. The last two years have been "slow" reading years, in my estimation, and I read 50 and 97 books, respectively, in 2007 and 2008. But this is why I have a borderline erotic fixation on the Seattle Public Library. (Well, really just any public library. I'm a library slut.)
But I love touching books and looking at books and arranging books and cataloging books and searching for books. And this made me think that I also love answering questions and searching for answers and finding new sources of information. So maybe what I really need to do is work at a library. Of course, I can't just work at a library, I'll have to run a library. I guess this means I'm going to have to get that Masters in Library and Information Sciences degree after all.
And I guess that's the point of all this.
Toodles.
Tuesday, November 18
I Call BULLSH*T: Detroit Edition
I'm calling bullshit on all of the reporting I've heard about the Big 3 automakers' panhandling on Capitol Hill today. The criticism that the Big 3 have failed to remain competitive are always balanced prominently by the same fact in both the newspaper and radio stories I've read/heard today: the Big 3 have forced healthcare concessions on the UAW. BULLSHIT!
Remaining competitive would've involved looking forward far enough to realize it was time to move away from the internal combustion engine as we know it to a true 21st-century technology. Before we run out of oil.
If the only way U.S. automakers can think of to remain competitive is screwing their employees on healthcare -- which should be a right for all people everywhere, IMHO -- then I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN they don't deserve $25 billion. Let's use that money to cushion the blow to the workers when these long-past-saving companies are finally cut away from the far-too-close-to-gangrenous body economic.
Remaining competitive would've involved looking forward far enough to realize it was time to move away from the internal combustion engine as we know it to a true 21st-century technology. Before we run out of oil.
If the only way U.S. automakers can think of to remain competitive is screwing their employees on healthcare -- which should be a right for all people everywhere, IMHO -- then I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN they don't deserve $25 billion. Let's use that money to cushion the blow to the workers when these long-past-saving companies are finally cut away from the far-too-close-to-gangrenous body economic.
Thursday, November 6
Fail Blog
Well, more like a fail post.
Today I failed at my relationship. Maybe it was already over, and I just didn't know. Maybe I'm entirely to blame. Maybe I don't know what's really going on inside someone else's head because we haven't talked in two weeks.
Regardless, I pushed when I should've waited, and now I've failed.
F***, feeling stupid only makes the heartache worse. Lesson learned, I guess.
G*d, I'm sad.
UPDATE: Things seem to not have been a total failure, although I thought otherwise.
Today I failed at my relationship. Maybe it was already over, and I just didn't know. Maybe I'm entirely to blame. Maybe I don't know what's really going on inside someone else's head because we haven't talked in two weeks.
Regardless, I pushed when I should've waited, and now I've failed.
F***, feeling stupid only makes the heartache worse. Lesson learned, I guess.
G*d, I'm sad.
UPDATE: Things seem to not have been a total failure, although I thought otherwise.
Wednesday, November 5
Election Night
To be clear, Obama was never my candidate. He doesn't inspire me, but I'm happy that he inspires so many. Hopefully he'll live up to his potential/expectations.
Last night, after listening to Obama's victory speech, I walked up to Capitol Hill. I wasn't disappointed. People were celebrating in the street. I wish I had continued down the hill to see the party down by the market; that would've been something else entirely.
It was fun to see, but I wish I had been able to connect with some friends or something to celebrate with. For perhaps the first time in a long time, however, I didn't really see many people I knew. Well, not that I could get to, at least.
Anyway, I've been thinking about last night all day.
Last night, after listening to Obama's victory speech, I walked up to Capitol Hill. I wasn't disappointed. People were celebrating in the street. I wish I had continued down the hill to see the party down by the market; that would've been something else entirely.
It was fun to see, but I wish I had been able to connect with some friends or something to celebrate with. For perhaps the first time in a long time, however, I didn't really see many people I knew. Well, not that I could get to, at least.
Anyway, I've been thinking about last night all day.
Tuesday, October 7
Creepiness continues
Sen. McCain is also creepy when he tries to utilize humor. Could he seem any stiffer and more uncomfortable? Someone should've slipped him a drink to loosen up the poor guy.
In fairness, I don't like Obama. I'm voting for him, so keep your hair on, but I don't like him. I'm not inspired. In fact, I continue to be disappointed with Democrats across the board.
To me, Obama seems like a condescending schmuck. I like his ideas and his approach better than McCain's, but I'm not happy to be supporting him. It's taking the fun out of democracy for me.
In fairness, I don't like Obama. I'm voting for him, so keep your hair on, but I don't like him. I'm not inspired. In fact, I continue to be disappointed with Democrats across the board.
To me, Obama seems like a condescending schmuck. I like his ideas and his approach better than McCain's, but I'm not happy to be supporting him. It's taking the fun out of democracy for me.
An open letter to Sen. John McCain
Dear Senator McCain,
I am not your friend. I do not want to be your friend. Calling us "my friends" is really starting to get on my nerves. Knock it off.
Not voting for you regardless,
Putnawa
I am not your friend. I do not want to be your friend. Calling us "my friends" is really starting to get on my nerves. Knock it off.
Not voting for you regardless,
Putnawa
I'm watching the debate
John McCain is creepy when he tries to get close to the audience during this town hall debate.
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