Remember how I closed my BofA account? I wrote a semi-snarky letter and did my homework, copying the appropriate executives and feeling immensely satisfied about taking my drip in their wages out in one swipe. Well, apparently it got someone's attention.
A peon from the CEO's office called me back and left a message on my phone. I was curious now - someone had actually called me? Amazing. I wondered what they wanted. I called them back at 4:35 p.m. on a business day; already gone for the day. Left a message. Peon called again the following morning while I was running errands. I finally called him back again and got him in person, and here's what eventually transpired:
Peon: "Mrs. LaDow, we received your correspondence and I am in the process of closing your account."
Me: "Thanks."
Peon: "There's just a few details we need to take care of. When you closed your account, you did it five days into the new cycle. Therefore, you accrued some interest on that balance, and you'll need to pay that balance before we close the account."
Me: "... Oh-kaaaay."
Peon: "So if you just go ahead and do that, then we can take care of all this for you, all right?"
Me: "Yeah, GREAT. Thank youuuuuu."
Peon: "Goodbye." Click.
They think of all the details, don't they? Accruing interest on a daily basis instead of a monthly basis is super convenient. I bet he was sitting there in his satellite office somewhere in North Carolina, happy to get another several dozen dollars out of my pocket before bidding my business adieu.
At least they got the hint and spared me another sales pitch. I'm sure they'd be able to find the transcription of my phone calls with them a few months ago when their "customer service" branch refused to work with my astronomical APR and thought I needed credit counseling. Of course, once they transferred me to their choice of credit counseling services and the service found out about my spotless payment record and income, I wasn't approved for the service even if I had wanted it.
Yes, take a bite out of BofA if you can, but spit it back out. Quickly.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Proofreading, An Ancient Art
Okay, okay. No more caps lock. But there really, truly has to be some college grad with a chip-head degree that can publish this without looking like:
Seriously. Why is there a job shortage in this country when so many of the things we consume (yes, this includes online information) is wrong, doesn't work, or breaks on the second try? Shouldn't there be a market for quality control somewhere? Oh wait. Yes, there used to be. It's too expensive to maintain, I guess. (Hence the reason why I'm starting to love Etsy and other individual proprietors: They still have the ability to plan, design, make and check their work by hand. Love and care in every step!)
Anyway. You need a lot of hands in the process when gleaning national news, I understand. Things won't go right all the time. But every. single. day? They're going too fast for their own good and driving me nuts in the process. I used to be in this business, and I would have gotten demoted if our weekly newspaper had these kinds of errors in it week in, week out. It's hard to take back a printed edition, yes. That's an understatement. However... isn't it just easier to do it right the first time around? No one will notice if you take the extra 10 seconds to check your HTML code and your dictionary.
The English version of al-Jazeera does better than this, CNN. Get with the frickin' program.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Proofreading, A Lost Art
What I can't figure out is why SI.com can't find a couple of good proofreading peons out of college to tell them the following:
1. Irks = To irritate or annoy. Urks = Steve Urkel.
2. The word "attempt" once in a sentence will suffice, thanks.
The fact that I have to refer to proofreading as an art disturbs me even more. For the love of God, you "professionals!" IT'S CALLED PROOFREADING AND/OR SPELL CHECK. I hate going all Kanye on it, but seriously... urks?!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Social Media Bites Back (Well, A Nibble)
When the going gets tough... you post it on your blog. This is popular media as a vehicle for my meager (yet very real) complaints about what's wrong with the companies I am hopelessly tied to because of their business practices.
I like how I have to close my account in writing to some random office in Florida, too. No addressing mail to a real human any more (well, unless of course you're part of the executive team, in which it goes to an assistant to the assistant to the BIP [Big Important Person] in their castle in North Carolina.)
If I get a response, I'll let you know. In the meantime, a person with a "very good" credit score is not being screwed over by carnivorous, greedy shareholders and CEOs who kiss their butts to make them and their bottom lines happy every quarter. As a drop in the BofA bucket, this is merely a cathartic way of expressing my displeasure instead a means to a specific end (hence why I did not ask for a lower APR, or wish them to burn in Hell, or any other ridiculous requests that one sees with angry letters). Nope, taking my business elsewhere with a snarky letter left behind will do just fine, and whether they respond matters not to me. *washing hands*
I have written to Bank of American thusly:
p.s. I have enough crap in my life to worry about than working overtime to pay 20% of a debt to ANYONE. In the meantime, LET'S DANCE:
"it takes control and slowly tears you apart"
I like how I have to close my account in writing to some random office in Florida, too. No addressing mail to a real human any more (well, unless of course you're part of the executive team, in which it goes to an assistant to the assistant to the BIP [Big Important Person] in their castle in North Carolina.)
If I get a response, I'll let you know. In the meantime, a person with a "very good" credit score is not being screwed over by carnivorous, greedy shareholders and CEOs who kiss their butts to make them and their bottom lines happy every quarter. As a drop in the BofA bucket, this is merely a cathartic way of expressing my displeasure instead a means to a specific end (hence why I did not ask for a lower APR, or wish them to burn in Hell, or any other ridiculous requests that one sees with angry letters). Nope, taking my business elsewhere with a snarky letter left behind will do just fine, and whether they respond matters not to me. *washing hands*
I have written to Bank of American thusly:
August 14, 2010
Rebecca L. LaDow
My Road
New York
Account Closure
FL1-300-02-07
4109 Gandy Blvd.
Tampa, FL 33611-3401
RE: Account xxxx
Dear Account Closure:
I am writing to ask you to close the account referenced above, effective immediately. You will be receiving a check for the full balance due.
As a customer of Bank of America for greater than a decade (by extension first an MBNA customer), I am disappointed with how my APR has been handled over the years, especially since Bank of America acquired MBNA. The income generated from the 19.98% APR applied to a five-figure debt is quite respectable for your bottom line, but for my household, we now choose not to support your business practices.
Bank of America has a long way to earn any of my trust or business back. Perhaps my influence is not as high as you’d care about, but I will not recommend Bank of America to my family, friends or children as they reach an age where they can open a line of credit.
I hope Mr. Brian Moynihan will guide Bank of America into better business practices during times of famine without alienating the customer base. To ensure that my voice is heard, I have copied the executives below on my correspondence, as well as placed this letter on my blog for my admittedly meager fan base.
Unfortunately, I must continue my business with you through another line of credit I have open, which is now “dead” credit as the APR will double up to approximately 14% if I ever use it again.
I wish you the best of luck in pleasing your shareholders, and hope that one day your customers’ satisfaction becomes a priority.
Sincerely,
Rebecca L. LaDow
cc:
Brian Moynihan, CEO
Charles Noski, CFO
Joe Price, President, Consumer, Small Business and Card Banking
ESL Credit Unionp.s. I have enough crap in my life to worry about than working overtime to pay 20% of a debt to ANYONE. In the meantime, LET'S DANCE:
"it takes control and slowly tears you apart"
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
CNN Needs Copywriters, Part 2
When folks start seeing these mistakes on the front page of a "dependable" news source's website, it means it's okay for us little people too. Details, shmetails! YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT, RIGHT? (No, I don't.)
Finding typos should not be this easy (or fun).
Monday, July 26, 2010
CNN Needs Copywriters, Part 1
I find a typo every day on this damn site. CNN, please get someone who knows the difference between by, buy and bye. It's really not. that. hard.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Quick Hitters
We are in the middle of some record-breaking temperatures right now. It was just our "luck" that we are now living in a house with no air conditioning, and we're trying to figure out creative ways to rotate the sticky air. I wouldn't say this is without its benefits - for one thing, I'm not spastastically afraid of spiders any more. Still afraid, but I can kill them without shrieking. For another thing, it has forced me to become closer to nature by using some of her cooling methods rather than my own, which is of course cheaper and somewhat greener, though we are using several fans 24/7 to cool the house at night. We've also been trying to push the cold air from the basement and garage up to the living room/office area, which presents quite the challenge with a 1-year-old toddler who loves to climb stairs.
Anyway, between this heat and working on a hot laptop in the unbearable afternoons, I haven't wanted to sit and type more. It's 10 p.m. and 79 degrees outside. However, I will give you some quick hitters that have been bouncing around in my head for a while - some guilty pleasures, some not so guilty:
Anyway, between this heat and working on a hot laptop in the unbearable afternoons, I haven't wanted to sit and type more. It's 10 p.m. and 79 degrees outside. However, I will give you some quick hitters that have been bouncing around in my head for a while - some guilty pleasures, some not so guilty:
- Raise your hand if you're happy not to read about LiLo's crack tweets for the next 180 days while she's in jail/rehab. Did you see that she manicured the phrase "f*** you" on both her middle fingernails? Someone snapped the photos while she was at her hearing and being sentenced. Judge Marsha Revel's no-nonsense haircut and pursed Mom lips dished a "f*** you too" right back to her.
- Who else said "Praise God!" when that little 4-year-old girl who was found alive after being kidnapped from her front yard in Missouri? You almost never see it end that way. Unfortunately, the person of interest in the case shot himself when approached by police. The mystery may never be solved, but a family and community is rejoicing tonight.
- Speaking of other celebrities I want to go away: LeBron. Seriously. SI.com has a LEBRON WATCH going right now. Kind of like the tornado warning that hit my hometown last weekend, only a lot more annoying and no one caring. Check off another reason why I avoid anything that has to do with the NBA like the plague.
- Super bummed about the Steelers' season already. Big Ben = Big Butthead, and now Willie Colon and Limas Sweed are both out for season with Achilles tendon injuries. Better than Randle El will be there to fill in as WR.
- The Pirates are just a laughingstock right now. I think the media cares about them as much as they care about my husband taking the trash out. At least our trash doesn't stink as much as the Buccos. PNC Park is just a beautiful ball park - no bad seat in the house. Shameful.
- Continuing on Pittsburgh's professional teams: Kind of like what the Pens did during free agency. The loss of Gonchar was a bummer, but as a friend pointed out to me, his leadership skills were great - his defensive skills, not so much. He was also injured way too much. Pens put a ton of money into the defense and I hope it works out.
- Where else other than Facebook can you have a conversation with buddies across the nation about The Goonies and dry shampoo in 24 hours?
- Ju$t found out why we only get profe$$ional photo$ done every five year$ or $o.
Time to rock out to some Gaga remixes and catching up on my celeb gossip. Good night, dear readers.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
To breathe: What were you doing at 25?
Today CNN featured an article about a 25-year-old Canadian woman who had cystic fibrosis and blogged about the entire experience, even up until two days before her death on March 27.
The article opens the headline "Death at 25: Blogging the end of a life." That's why I initially clicked on the link. But then when the page loads, there is a photo of a beautiful, young woman lying in a hospital bed, a breathing tube wrapped under her nose and around her ears, a slight smile on her lips, her eyes radiating love and exhaustion. Her name is Eva.
I scanned the article and found the blog, called 65 Red Roses. It was named such because when she was first diagnosed, she could not pronounce cystic fibrosis, and instead pronounced it more like "65 red roses." It is colorful. It has hearts. There is a lot of red. Pictures of Eva and her family and friends love, love, loving, the breathing tube a constant companion. She takes pictures of herself in all sorts of stages of life, of sickness: Joy. Exhaustion. Friends. Nausea. Mom. Despair. Boyfriend. Kisses. Style. It makes you catch your breath.
I went through a few entries and found a video of a speech she gave for the Toronto Gala, which she recorded because she could not do it in person. She tells of her struggles with the breath, sickness, and her adventures in love and hope. And she tells her viewers of that epitome of hope: A double lung transplant, hope rising out of another's tragedy, life and death holding hands, one not existing without the other. She tells of walking up steps. Road trips. Falling in love. Dancing. And in the next breath: Her body is in chronic rejection. Her body is rejecting the new lungs.
Now, why would I be sharing this story with you? I don't have cystic fibrosis. I don't think I know anyone who does. But I do know someone who struggled with breath. I do know someone whose lungs were chronically rejected at the end of life. I remember a man who loved his wife and his children, and for my entire life I remember not the sound of his voice, but his wheezing. His puffers. The assumption of chronic asthma. I remember his salt-and-pepper stubble and his three-word sentences between breaths. I remember Christmastime when someone in the family received a play microphone, and watching him hold it (was it a photo I saw?) and knowing he couldn't pretend to sing a ballad into it. And in a cold, dark winter in 1993 when there was only hope left, my grandfather's body rejected his new lung, and I can still remember my father's car in the driveway, home from work early when I came home from school on December 3, knowing that my grandfather was gone. I was 12. He was (just shy of?) 60.
These are the details I remember. Some of them may be hazy. I remember watching my mother lose her father from a genetic disease and tears. My grandmother's exhaustion at caring for him for over a decade, years spent in San Antonio living near the hospital where they would do the transplant, if or when the lung came for him. I remember seeing him lie in his coffin, not breathing but at such ease. Grandma looking at him and seeing peace, not death. I cried in ragged breaths when the Catholic church cantor sang of him flying like an eagle, rising again. I remember the wake at my grandmother's house, hushed, lots of food, TV on in the living room where Grandpa's recliner might have been. Perhaps bowling was on that day. Could have been football. And relief. Relief, relief, relief. Everyone took a huge sigh of relief.
So, when I watched Eva confess to Toronto that her body had rejected her lungs, I cried horribly again, just like I did at my grandfather's funeral. I remember the sound of air being sucked into lungs that refused to work correctly, the body trying to force the air out, exhausted from every effort just to live. What killed my grandfather was not cystic fibrosis, but a disease called alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency, which basically destroys the elasticity in your lungs. Your lungs expand and shrink with every breath, but with alpha-1, your lungs expand, expand, expand. You wheeze, you cough, you gasp. Every breath is abnormal.
After that day, when I took my driver's test and passed, I checked the organ donor box. So did my husband. Eva asked that of her following. I knew I had to after watching a stranger's generosity in death give some life back to my grandpa, even if it was for a little while. I remember a picture of him, white dressing gown, white compression stockings, holding a white teddy bear after the surgery, waving and smiling. I imagine snow-white breath flowing in his new lungs, if only for a short time.
My parents were tested for alpha-1. My father is not a carrier. My mother is. This means that my sisters, brother and I will not get alpha-1, but some of us may be a carrier. One day when I can afford it, I will get tested for alpha-1. If I am not a carrier, then my husband won't need to be tested; my kids are safe. If I am positive, my husband will need to be tested. Some days I wonder, wonder, wonder.
To answer my own question: At 25, I was married, a mother to a daughter, and working as a project manager in Rochester NY. My husband and I were on the verge of a move to California, an adventure with risks, questions and no map. I was violently ill from the anxiety. I dropped 20 lb. that summer. My mother and sister came to pack my entire kitchen the night before the movers came. In a moment of anxiety, my memory sharpened, smells remembered, songs on my iPod that play to this day and whip me back to that moment. I was living. I lived.
In yoga we are taught to mind our breath. The practice revolves around, depends on the breath. To open, to shine, to fill yourself up, to enable your body and mind to practice. The breath follows the muscles' movement: In to expand, out to contract. When I labored with my daughter Sela last year, my husband driving 80 mph down the highway to get to the midwife clinic in time, I turned up the Red Hot Chili Peppers and let my breath in and out wild, groaning, screaming from the pressure, feeling the warm Sunday morning air whip through the car. I was living. My baby was living. I lived.
Do you realize how much your life is centered around breath? When we do not mind our essence of living, we neglect to mind that which can kill us. I read about Eva's life centered around breath. Her struggles with cystic fibrosis and my grandfather's struggles with alpha-1 embraced breath, no matter how hard it was to suck in one more liter of oxygen. While my practice in yoga is a choice, theirs was necessity. A disease pulled them into their very cores of their lives, of their bodies, and forced them to be aware of every breath, every cage-rattling, painful, wheezing, drowning breath, forcing them to examine every detail of it. It is what yoga asks of the yogini, to examine every detail of the breath in connection with the body, to realize that they are not separate but one, breath and movement locked together, one not existing without the other.
And so it is with life and death. If we live, we die, and yet we cannot die if we do not live. I imagine Eva and my grandfather, beautiful souls intact, dancing and singing, perhaps raising their hands in the air, saying Lord let's fly, leave unto the Earth what belongs to the Earth and take all that belongs to you.
Today when you pray, or when you approach your mat, or when you are discovering positive energies, remember these two people. Pray for them. Dedicate your practice. Do what you do to mind your breath and your life force in memory of them who so painfully did the same.
Eva Dien Brine Markvoort
James DaValle
Edited at 5:29 p.m.: One of Eva's friends featured in the documentary "65 Red Roses", based on Eva's fight against cystic fibrosis, is a woman named Kina who lives in Girard, PA, just down the road from where I was born and raised. Many of my family, classmates and friends from that area know Girard well.
The article opens the headline "Death at 25: Blogging the end of a life." That's why I initially clicked on the link. But then when the page loads, there is a photo of a beautiful, young woman lying in a hospital bed, a breathing tube wrapped under her nose and around her ears, a slight smile on her lips, her eyes radiating love and exhaustion. Her name is Eva.
I scanned the article and found the blog, called 65 Red Roses. It was named such because when she was first diagnosed, she could not pronounce cystic fibrosis, and instead pronounced it more like "65 red roses." It is colorful. It has hearts. There is a lot of red. Pictures of Eva and her family and friends love, love, loving, the breathing tube a constant companion. She takes pictures of herself in all sorts of stages of life, of sickness: Joy. Exhaustion. Friends. Nausea. Mom. Despair. Boyfriend. Kisses. Style. It makes you catch your breath.
I went through a few entries and found a video of a speech she gave for the Toronto Gala, which she recorded because she could not do it in person. She tells of her struggles with the breath, sickness, and her adventures in love and hope. And she tells her viewers of that epitome of hope: A double lung transplant, hope rising out of another's tragedy, life and death holding hands, one not existing without the other. She tells of walking up steps. Road trips. Falling in love. Dancing. And in the next breath: Her body is in chronic rejection. Her body is rejecting the new lungs.
Now, why would I be sharing this story with you? I don't have cystic fibrosis. I don't think I know anyone who does. But I do know someone who struggled with breath. I do know someone whose lungs were chronically rejected at the end of life. I remember a man who loved his wife and his children, and for my entire life I remember not the sound of his voice, but his wheezing. His puffers. The assumption of chronic asthma. I remember his salt-and-pepper stubble and his three-word sentences between breaths. I remember Christmastime when someone in the family received a play microphone, and watching him hold it (was it a photo I saw?) and knowing he couldn't pretend to sing a ballad into it. And in a cold, dark winter in 1993 when there was only hope left, my grandfather's body rejected his new lung, and I can still remember my father's car in the driveway, home from work early when I came home from school on December 3, knowing that my grandfather was gone. I was 12. He was (just shy of?) 60.
These are the details I remember. Some of them may be hazy. I remember watching my mother lose her father from a genetic disease and tears. My grandmother's exhaustion at caring for him for over a decade, years spent in San Antonio living near the hospital where they would do the transplant, if or when the lung came for him. I remember seeing him lie in his coffin, not breathing but at such ease. Grandma looking at him and seeing peace, not death. I cried in ragged breaths when the Catholic church cantor sang of him flying like an eagle, rising again. I remember the wake at my grandmother's house, hushed, lots of food, TV on in the living room where Grandpa's recliner might have been. Perhaps bowling was on that day. Could have been football. And relief. Relief, relief, relief. Everyone took a huge sigh of relief.
So, when I watched Eva confess to Toronto that her body had rejected her lungs, I cried horribly again, just like I did at my grandfather's funeral. I remember the sound of air being sucked into lungs that refused to work correctly, the body trying to force the air out, exhausted from every effort just to live. What killed my grandfather was not cystic fibrosis, but a disease called alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency, which basically destroys the elasticity in your lungs. Your lungs expand and shrink with every breath, but with alpha-1, your lungs expand, expand, expand. You wheeze, you cough, you gasp. Every breath is abnormal.
After that day, when I took my driver's test and passed, I checked the organ donor box. So did my husband. Eva asked that of her following. I knew I had to after watching a stranger's generosity in death give some life back to my grandpa, even if it was for a little while. I remember a picture of him, white dressing gown, white compression stockings, holding a white teddy bear after the surgery, waving and smiling. I imagine snow-white breath flowing in his new lungs, if only for a short time.
My parents were tested for alpha-1. My father is not a carrier. My mother is. This means that my sisters, brother and I will not get alpha-1, but some of us may be a carrier. One day when I can afford it, I will get tested for alpha-1. If I am not a carrier, then my husband won't need to be tested; my kids are safe. If I am positive, my husband will need to be tested. Some days I wonder, wonder, wonder.
To answer my own question: At 25, I was married, a mother to a daughter, and working as a project manager in Rochester NY. My husband and I were on the verge of a move to California, an adventure with risks, questions and no map. I was violently ill from the anxiety. I dropped 20 lb. that summer. My mother and sister came to pack my entire kitchen the night before the movers came. In a moment of anxiety, my memory sharpened, smells remembered, songs on my iPod that play to this day and whip me back to that moment. I was living. I lived.
In yoga we are taught to mind our breath. The practice revolves around, depends on the breath. To open, to shine, to fill yourself up, to enable your body and mind to practice. The breath follows the muscles' movement: In to expand, out to contract. When I labored with my daughter Sela last year, my husband driving 80 mph down the highway to get to the midwife clinic in time, I turned up the Red Hot Chili Peppers and let my breath in and out wild, groaning, screaming from the pressure, feeling the warm Sunday morning air whip through the car. I was living. My baby was living. I lived.
Do you realize how much your life is centered around breath? When we do not mind our essence of living, we neglect to mind that which can kill us. I read about Eva's life centered around breath. Her struggles with cystic fibrosis and my grandfather's struggles with alpha-1 embraced breath, no matter how hard it was to suck in one more liter of oxygen. While my practice in yoga is a choice, theirs was necessity. A disease pulled them into their very cores of their lives, of their bodies, and forced them to be aware of every breath, every cage-rattling, painful, wheezing, drowning breath, forcing them to examine every detail of it. It is what yoga asks of the yogini, to examine every detail of the breath in connection with the body, to realize that they are not separate but one, breath and movement locked together, one not existing without the other.
And so it is with life and death. If we live, we die, and yet we cannot die if we do not live. I imagine Eva and my grandfather, beautiful souls intact, dancing and singing, perhaps raising their hands in the air, saying Lord let's fly, leave unto the Earth what belongs to the Earth and take all that belongs to you.
Today when you pray, or when you approach your mat, or when you are discovering positive energies, remember these two people. Pray for them. Dedicate your practice. Do what you do to mind your breath and your life force in memory of them who so painfully did the same.
Eva Dien Brine Markvoort
James DaValle
Edited at 5:29 p.m.: One of Eva's friends featured in the documentary "65 Red Roses", based on Eva's fight against cystic fibrosis, is a woman named Kina who lives in Girard, PA, just down the road from where I was born and raised. Many of my family, classmates and friends from that area know Girard well.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Dr. Nonflow, Urologist
Dear readers - It's been a very long while since I posted, and I do apologize. You've all been hanging in there with me and I hope to let the writing bug drive me to the computer more often. Between sickness, Easter and more life-changing events in our household, I've been neglecting the more fun things in life!
Now, on topic: This is why social media is a benefit, especially when presented on the Internet. I found this link through a Facebook friend who is also an MT, and when I say I laughed 'til I cried, it means that you should get thyself a potty break before reading.
Horse on a Mattress is the medical transcriptionist's answer to Cake Wrecks or Regretsy. Sometimes in speech recognition software, you get a lot of nonsense that the MT has to edit and fix to match the dictation. But sometimes you get some kick-ass doctor's names, among other bloopers. Read and enjoy!
Now, on topic: This is why social media is a benefit, especially when presented on the Internet. I found this link through a Facebook friend who is also an MT, and when I say I laughed 'til I cried, it means that you should get thyself a potty break before reading.
Horse on a Mattress is the medical transcriptionist's answer to Cake Wrecks or Regretsy. Sometimes in speech recognition software, you get a lot of nonsense that the MT has to edit and fix to match the dictation. But sometimes you get some kick-ass doctor's names, among other bloopers. Read and enjoy!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
What do you want to hear?
Good morning, dear readers! I have a nine-hour work day ahead of me, so alas, I must be brief. But what I found while ambling along my normal news outlets (yes, even someone like me writing about current affairs gets stuck in a rut... stuck in a rut... stuck in a rut) made me pretty darn upset, and I must share with you before typing the day away.
U.S. figure skating Olympian Johnny Weir was mocked by some French-Canadian announcers during his short routine in Vancouver, saying that he might have "lost points due to his costume and body language," suggesting he should take a gender test, and also suggesting he should compete in the women's competition. They go so far to suggest that his demeanor sets a bad example to other male skaters and that they'll "end up like him." They later issued an apology.
These comments are bad enough from a pair of national announcers broadcasting to the entire world, but what enraged me were the quotes from Johnny's response that CNN and People.com decided to publish.
I first read about the controversy at Celebitchy, which is one of my favorite gossip blogs - they write smart, they're witty, and they're not nasty and defacing pictures with grade-school MSPaint like Perez Hilton does. The comments that Celebitchy published were taken from Entertainment Weekly, and Johnny was quite gracious in his response to the "jokes." He didn't even ask for an apology or for their firings and says he believes in free speech. The quotes used on the gossip blog showed him to be a well-spoken man.
However. I opened CNN.com today and saw the headline: "Skater responds to mockery." Hey, CNN picked it up a day later! I opened it up and started reading, and was sorely disappointed in the quotes that CNN chose to take from People.com's article. In addition, the hyperlink provided to the original article was broken, and that just ticks me off - a lack of attention to detail on a national news outlet. It's just as bad as misspelling something on the front page, which CNN does quite often, I might add. But here's the quote that finishes off the article:
In my job as a medical transcription, one of the best pieces of advice was to question. Question what you are hearing. Listen to it again and again and be sure you are typing what the doctor is saying. If he's saying something that doesn't make sense, research the heck out of it and alert medical records if there is an inconsistency. If a doctor puts in an order for a surgical note but starts dictating a consultation, I don't format it as a surgical note - I would format it as a consultation.
This is probably the best advice I could give the general public about approaching what they read and see in the media. Question. Question it from all angles before passing judgment - or even if you pass judgment at all. Don't assume you know something just because they wore a pink tassel on a skating costume and assume they're hermaphrodites (which, incidentally, Lady Gaga was also accused of "tucking," to which she wouldn't even deign a response to that rumor. Good for her.) It's these little jokes that start as a drop in the pond, but grow to bigger waves as they pass through the general population in so many ways... what if a kid listened to those announcers and thought it was funny to question someone's gender every time they didn't fit society's definition of a male or female? Even though they thought it was funny, they should have saved it for the comedy club open-mic night, if at all.
U.S. figure skating Olympian Johnny Weir was mocked by some French-Canadian announcers during his short routine in Vancouver, saying that he might have "lost points due to his costume and body language," suggesting he should take a gender test, and also suggesting he should compete in the women's competition. They go so far to suggest that his demeanor sets a bad example to other male skaters and that they'll "end up like him." They later issued an apology.
These comments are bad enough from a pair of national announcers broadcasting to the entire world, but what enraged me were the quotes from Johnny's response that CNN and People.com decided to publish.
I first read about the controversy at Celebitchy, which is one of my favorite gossip blogs - they write smart, they're witty, and they're not nasty and defacing pictures with grade-school MSPaint like Perez Hilton does. The comments that Celebitchy published were taken from Entertainment Weekly, and Johnny was quite gracious in his response to the "jokes." He didn't even ask for an apology or for their firings and says he believes in free speech. The quotes used on the gossip blog showed him to be a well-spoken man.
However. I opened CNN.com today and saw the headline: "Skater responds to mockery." Hey, CNN picked it up a day later! I opened it up and started reading, and was sorely disappointed in the quotes that CNN chose to take from People.com's article. In addition, the hyperlink provided to the original article was broken, and that just ticks me off - a lack of attention to detail on a national news outlet. It's just as bad as misspelling something on the front page, which CNN does quite often, I might add. But here's the quote that finishes off the article:
"It wasn't these two men criticizing my skating, it was them criticizing me as a person, and that was something that really, frankly, pissed me off," Weir told reporters. "Nobody knows me. ... I think masculinity is what you believe it to be."Doesn't he sound like a whiny kid now? What gives? Sure, we've all heard the nickname "Johnny Weird" for his flamboyant style and Lady Gaga gestures, but he's also a fine skater and a decent human being, and what was quoted might lead you to believe that he's calling for those broadcasters' careers on a shiny, fabulous silver platter. All I know is, the man handled himself just fine, and taking two quotes from the press conference shed two very different lights on him.
In my job as a medical transcription, one of the best pieces of advice was to question. Question what you are hearing. Listen to it again and again and be sure you are typing what the doctor is saying. If he's saying something that doesn't make sense, research the heck out of it and alert medical records if there is an inconsistency. If a doctor puts in an order for a surgical note but starts dictating a consultation, I don't format it as a surgical note - I would format it as a consultation.
This is probably the best advice I could give the general public about approaching what they read and see in the media. Question. Question it from all angles before passing judgment - or even if you pass judgment at all. Don't assume you know something just because they wore a pink tassel on a skating costume and assume they're hermaphrodites (which, incidentally, Lady Gaga was also accused of "tucking," to which she wouldn't even deign a response to that rumor. Good for her.) It's these little jokes that start as a drop in the pond, but grow to bigger waves as they pass through the general population in so many ways... what if a kid listened to those announcers and thought it was funny to question someone's gender every time they didn't fit society's definition of a male or female? Even though they thought it was funny, they should have saved it for the comedy club open-mic night, if at all.
Monday, February 15, 2010
One-dimensional musings
On the cusp of another snowstorm (that's four inches of snow down here in Canonsburg - I know you Erie folks are giggling about it, as do I, but there really is a lot of snow here that they don't know where to put because of the mountainous hills), I've realized that it's been a month since I last blogged. That's breaking the cardinal rule of blogging: Blog on a regular basis. Keeping it up. Keeping it fresh.
Yet every time I think about it, I think the media has burned me out. I've been constantly listening to family, friends and the media complain about the state of this country, why Republicans are crazy, why Democrats are socialist nutjobs, and quite frankly, I've become tired of it. Maybe not tired: It's a word that my younger readers would appreciate, and that is "meh." I like me a good drama in the news, but ever since Obama was elected, the shouting on both sides of the American political spectrum is louder than ever, and no one seems interested in getting anything done except firmly planting the blame of the state of the American economy on the shoulders of either political party.
With full disclosure, both my husband and I are independents. We made that decision after moving back from the West Coast, with me doubting every potential Presidential candidate who stepped up to a podium in front of the media. We are finding that both left and right "ideals" are often contradictory, selfish, and downright unhealthy for a decent political debate. We often had the best debates about politics with a dear friend of ours, who is Canadian and knows truly what socialism is, after he'd been traveling the globe. Disenchanted with Cheney and Big Oil, angry with manipulative unions, watching the debt ceiling raised higher than ever, and pretty faces (Palin) blurring partisan shortcomings, I threw my hands up in the air and suggested to Spence that we leave both parties and let them figure out how to get our votes. It was the only way I could think of to demonstrate my displeasure with the Left and Right political discourses.
As it is, American politics are sorely one-dimensional: Do you swing left or right? Blue or red? Conservative or liberal? To which I started asking back: Are politics only meant for swinging between two points, one single line? I really don't care that the Independents don't have many promising candidates: Running on an Independent platform is what I like to call slippery dipping: You can pick and choose your values, and yet in putting together your political agenda, leaving yourself to the mercy of a media who likes to paint you "more conservative" or "more liberal," perhaps to translate your oddities to an American public who only know the way forward is to go left or right.
Does it seem like a political dead end? Does it seem too much for a person who wants to step outside The Line, to explain to others that it's okay to be pro-life and demand equal pay for women in similar job positions? Is it okay to be a member of the NRA and endorse affordable health care? Can rich people endorse welfare? Can poor people endorse lower taxes for the businesses?
If rich people understood that there are people in society who truly need the help of the village, as it were, to survive, then they'd be more amenable to paying more taxes into a welfare system that helps the elderly, disabled and hungry, while at the same time finds the freeloaders and stops supporting them.
If poor people understood that businesses create jobs, they would understand that lower taxes for businesses will help their businesses grow and keep more jobs in the United States.
If women and men understood that fertility is an equal responsibility between them, then it would be easier for men and women to support equal pay for equal work.
If understanding that the reason we are not physically invaded by a country is because, on average, every man and woman in this country has at least one firearm in their home, then we understand that basic health care is a right, not a privilege: Basic rights of self-defense of our country should include basic rights of self-defense of our bodies, whether we have chronic or acute conditions. (Whether you endorse a public option or shopping across state lines for health insurance is a completely different conversation, however.)
And that, dear readers, is only a few of the many reasons why I can't read a newspaper, online or otherwise, without my eyes crossing and my soul delving into a deep state of indifference. Politicians are afraid of "reaching across the aisle" without thinking about their competitors accusing them of waffling in the next election, so they hold fast to a single line between two points. The dominant parties are in a state of turmoil, what with Obama's favorable ratings plummeting to Earth and the loss of Mr. Kennedy's Lion Seat to a Republican, and with Palin a Presidential hopeful in 2012 while endorsing a Tea Party with no clear agenda and fractured factions. Less voters are asking important questions about how the government as a whole will help them, and instead asking for their piece of the pie, and perhaps it is in this way we are led to a government stuffed and obese with pork and special interests.
Perhaps - and this is a theory - it is not so much the politicians' fault for trying to grab federal funds, but our own. Perhaps our indifference to letting the same people try to steer this country is the reason why no one can agree on Capitol Hill. Perhaps it is us, the People, the voters, who need to find their voices again and appoint better people to find that middle ground that could make this country even greater. Politics don't have to be complicated, you know. Don't let anyone tell you that you're committing heresy by changing your party affiliation as much as you like. In fact, the idea that anyone would accuse me of a grave religious sin based on my party affiliation is insulting: I should be able to move freely between political parties, because my God doesn't swing left or right. Voicing your political distaste doesn't have to start and end with your vote, as I have so aptly learned: the Independent vote is just starting to become a bigger slice of the pie, and I'm willing to let the politicians figure out just how to earn that vote.
Edited at 10:08 p.m.: CNN is reporting that yet "another" centrist Democrat will not seek re-election due to his disgruntlement with Congress, left bloggers and partisanship. There are five open seats for Dems and six open seats for Republicans for the upcoming November elections.
Edited at 10:15 p.m.: Just noticed the homepage title of the above-quoted article reads thusly: "Too tough for a centrist? Bayh retiring". You betcha. Instead of being favorably described as bipartisan or compromising, centrists are frequently viewed as weak, waffling and/or floaters in the unforgiving political arena. The most liberal and conservative wings of each party should tread lightly - if this kind of walk-out continues, what will the fractioning of the two dominant parties do to American politics?
Yet every time I think about it, I think the media has burned me out. I've been constantly listening to family, friends and the media complain about the state of this country, why Republicans are crazy, why Democrats are socialist nutjobs, and quite frankly, I've become tired of it. Maybe not tired: It's a word that my younger readers would appreciate, and that is "meh." I like me a good drama in the news, but ever since Obama was elected, the shouting on both sides of the American political spectrum is louder than ever, and no one seems interested in getting anything done except firmly planting the blame of the state of the American economy on the shoulders of either political party.
With full disclosure, both my husband and I are independents. We made that decision after moving back from the West Coast, with me doubting every potential Presidential candidate who stepped up to a podium in front of the media. We are finding that both left and right "ideals" are often contradictory, selfish, and downright unhealthy for a decent political debate. We often had the best debates about politics with a dear friend of ours, who is Canadian and knows truly what socialism is, after he'd been traveling the globe. Disenchanted with Cheney and Big Oil, angry with manipulative unions, watching the debt ceiling raised higher than ever, and pretty faces (Palin) blurring partisan shortcomings, I threw my hands up in the air and suggested to Spence that we leave both parties and let them figure out how to get our votes. It was the only way I could think of to demonstrate my displeasure with the Left and Right political discourses.
As it is, American politics are sorely one-dimensional: Do you swing left or right? Blue or red? Conservative or liberal? To which I started asking back: Are politics only meant for swinging between two points, one single line? I really don't care that the Independents don't have many promising candidates: Running on an Independent platform is what I like to call slippery dipping: You can pick and choose your values, and yet in putting together your political agenda, leaving yourself to the mercy of a media who likes to paint you "more conservative" or "more liberal," perhaps to translate your oddities to an American public who only know the way forward is to go left or right.
Does it seem like a political dead end? Does it seem too much for a person who wants to step outside The Line, to explain to others that it's okay to be pro-life and demand equal pay for women in similar job positions? Is it okay to be a member of the NRA and endorse affordable health care? Can rich people endorse welfare? Can poor people endorse lower taxes for the businesses?
If rich people understood that there are people in society who truly need the help of the village, as it were, to survive, then they'd be more amenable to paying more taxes into a welfare system that helps the elderly, disabled and hungry, while at the same time finds the freeloaders and stops supporting them.
If poor people understood that businesses create jobs, they would understand that lower taxes for businesses will help their businesses grow and keep more jobs in the United States.
If women and men understood that fertility is an equal responsibility between them, then it would be easier for men and women to support equal pay for equal work.
If understanding that the reason we are not physically invaded by a country is because, on average, every man and woman in this country has at least one firearm in their home, then we understand that basic health care is a right, not a privilege: Basic rights of self-defense of our country should include basic rights of self-defense of our bodies, whether we have chronic or acute conditions. (Whether you endorse a public option or shopping across state lines for health insurance is a completely different conversation, however.)
And that, dear readers, is only a few of the many reasons why I can't read a newspaper, online or otherwise, without my eyes crossing and my soul delving into a deep state of indifference. Politicians are afraid of "reaching across the aisle" without thinking about their competitors accusing them of waffling in the next election, so they hold fast to a single line between two points. The dominant parties are in a state of turmoil, what with Obama's favorable ratings plummeting to Earth and the loss of Mr. Kennedy's Lion Seat to a Republican, and with Palin a Presidential hopeful in 2012 while endorsing a Tea Party with no clear agenda and fractured factions. Less voters are asking important questions about how the government as a whole will help them, and instead asking for their piece of the pie, and perhaps it is in this way we are led to a government stuffed and obese with pork and special interests.
Perhaps - and this is a theory - it is not so much the politicians' fault for trying to grab federal funds, but our own. Perhaps our indifference to letting the same people try to steer this country is the reason why no one can agree on Capitol Hill. Perhaps it is us, the People, the voters, who need to find their voices again and appoint better people to find that middle ground that could make this country even greater. Politics don't have to be complicated, you know. Don't let anyone tell you that you're committing heresy by changing your party affiliation as much as you like. In fact, the idea that anyone would accuse me of a grave religious sin based on my party affiliation is insulting: I should be able to move freely between political parties, because my God doesn't swing left or right. Voicing your political distaste doesn't have to start and end with your vote, as I have so aptly learned: the Independent vote is just starting to become a bigger slice of the pie, and I'm willing to let the politicians figure out just how to earn that vote.
Edited at 10:08 p.m.: CNN is reporting that yet "another" centrist Democrat will not seek re-election due to his disgruntlement with Congress, left bloggers and partisanship. There are five open seats for Dems and six open seats for Republicans for the upcoming November elections.
Edited at 10:15 p.m.: Just noticed the homepage title of the above-quoted article reads thusly: "Too tough for a centrist? Bayh retiring". You betcha. Instead of being favorably described as bipartisan or compromising, centrists are frequently viewed as weak, waffling and/or floaters in the unforgiving political arena. The most liberal and conservative wings of each party should tread lightly - if this kind of walk-out continues, what will the fractioning of the two dominant parties do to American politics?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Socially Acceptable Programs?
There's a Facebook group (isn't there one for everything?) that is titled thusly: "Making Drug Tests required to Get Welfare (their capitalization, not mine). I briefly read the wall for this group, noting that several military brass said "yes" to drug testing as they are required to get tested to serve the country; that women asked birth control be prescribed alongside with it and teaching women to stop having kids they can't support; and men who suggested varying opinions from "get rid of welfare" to requiring folks to get entry-level jobs before the government will support them.
I sat back and thought about this for a bit between my daughter's requests to helping her complete a level in a Spongebob Wii game and my infant daughter's babbles while barrel-rolling on the carpet. I think about the time a woman told me her humiliation in accepting welfare for a handful of months after finding out she was pregnant, and until her husband worked enough hours and overtime to build up some savings and put food on the table. I think about where I would be if my husband died tomorrow - a too-large townhouse with only a part-time job, two daughters to raise and a broken life to rebuild. I think about where my husband would be if I died tomorrow - a too-large townhouse with a full-time career, two daughters to raise and place in daycare, and a broken life to rebuild.
Is there any way to truly know how many people abuse the system? It's hard to say. We Americans dally back and forth between wanting to do what's right and punishing those who take advantage of it. It burns us to know that our taxes go into a system that isn't foolproof, that moms addicted to crack are getting pregnant with crack babies and using our money to buy drugs. That's the picture in your head, right? When you think of welfare, you think of a drug-addled mother carelessly letting her children go hungry and lie around in her filthy, dank apartment while she snorts a few lines. You think of unmarried women at local government offices, standing in impossibly long lines with their unruly children waiting for their monthly handouts. Isn't that sad that it's the only picture of welfare that we (assume to) know?
You know, I am frustrated by the fact that there are women probably out there (and it's mostly women) living off my taxes so they can have lots of material goods, knowing they get more if the birth more. But I don't think it's the majority. We are concerned about filtering out the few who exploit the system instead of figuring out how to get these folks on their feet again. Welfare has become less of a crutch and more of an income; this is not right. Social Security has gone the same way; in a day when it was meant for paying for milk and bread, it is now becoming the sole income for our retiring class. Going on disability has gone the same way; instead of helping folks until they are healed, people turn to it for their long-term livelihood.
And that, dear readers, is where I am angry with these social programs. Not for the drug-addicted mothers who need our help getting off the drugs and into a productive life of their own; it's because more and more people are looking to social programs to fund their lives entirely, without bothering to look at the future and envision themselves on their own. This is not the American dream. Welfare and Social Security should be to cover the "what-if's" in your life: What if my spouse died tomorrow? What if I lost my job tomorrow? What if my house burned down tomorrow? What if I got hurt while working (and not that "I kind of pulled the muscles in my back" bull - the type where you destroy discs in your back or lose some kind of appendage or your sight)? Then you can relax and say: The government will help me get back on my feet. They will be there to help find my way back. Not "the government owes me this." Not "the government should have to pay for everything." Not "I'm hurt enough that it pinches a little when I move; my workplace hurt me and the government should pay for it."
Ironically, I believe we perpetrate the lower classes by allowing this to happen. What's the saying about teaching a man to fish? Instead of providing those chronically on social programs with more and more money, let's start teaching them to navigate their way to self-sustainment. Don't throw greenbacks at the problem and let it leak all over the place. We shouldn't even be having this conversation about kicking drug addicts off welfare. They do need the help, after all. They know better but can't find their way out. Don't fund their houses and addictions just so they have the sorriest-looking thing that they call a livelihood until kingdom come. Let's get people to be productive parts of society and not just strung out along for the ride (no pun intended).
Now, I know there are exceptions. There are people who will need help the rest of their lives. There are people who are so disabled that there is no hope of recovery. But is it the majority? No. This is why social programs exist: Because people who truly need the help will have it when they need it. I have two autistic cousins who are blossoming under the diligent work of their parents and the social programs they are a part of to become productive once they are adults. They are extremely bright, energetic and going to school. Maybe someday they will crunch numbers alongside the smartest engineers or impress professors at a prestigious art academy. But for now, the social programs are there to help lay the groundwork alongside the parents, and it's the way it should be: Attentive parents who need help understanding a condition their children have in order to make them the very best they can be. Building to their strengths. Helping them understand shortcomings and how to get around them.
And really, isn't that part of the American existence? We're not so different from autistic children, people dealing with chronic back pain from a work injury or young widows with children to support. Social programs should be there to help them re-center, build their strengths and get around their shortcomings in tragic life-changing events... finding a way to get back on their feet. We're not all superheroes in the face of adversity, but we're not all damsels in distress, either.
I sat back and thought about this for a bit between my daughter's requests to helping her complete a level in a Spongebob Wii game and my infant daughter's babbles while barrel-rolling on the carpet. I think about the time a woman told me her humiliation in accepting welfare for a handful of months after finding out she was pregnant, and until her husband worked enough hours and overtime to build up some savings and put food on the table. I think about where I would be if my husband died tomorrow - a too-large townhouse with only a part-time job, two daughters to raise and a broken life to rebuild. I think about where my husband would be if I died tomorrow - a too-large townhouse with a full-time career, two daughters to raise and place in daycare, and a broken life to rebuild.
Is there any way to truly know how many people abuse the system? It's hard to say. We Americans dally back and forth between wanting to do what's right and punishing those who take advantage of it. It burns us to know that our taxes go into a system that isn't foolproof, that moms addicted to crack are getting pregnant with crack babies and using our money to buy drugs. That's the picture in your head, right? When you think of welfare, you think of a drug-addled mother carelessly letting her children go hungry and lie around in her filthy, dank apartment while she snorts a few lines. You think of unmarried women at local government offices, standing in impossibly long lines with their unruly children waiting for their monthly handouts. Isn't that sad that it's the only picture of welfare that we (assume to) know?
You know, I am frustrated by the fact that there are women probably out there (and it's mostly women) living off my taxes so they can have lots of material goods, knowing they get more if the birth more. But I don't think it's the majority. We are concerned about filtering out the few who exploit the system instead of figuring out how to get these folks on their feet again. Welfare has become less of a crutch and more of an income; this is not right. Social Security has gone the same way; in a day when it was meant for paying for milk and bread, it is now becoming the sole income for our retiring class. Going on disability has gone the same way; instead of helping folks until they are healed, people turn to it for their long-term livelihood.
And that, dear readers, is where I am angry with these social programs. Not for the drug-addicted mothers who need our help getting off the drugs and into a productive life of their own; it's because more and more people are looking to social programs to fund their lives entirely, without bothering to look at the future and envision themselves on their own. This is not the American dream. Welfare and Social Security should be to cover the "what-if's" in your life: What if my spouse died tomorrow? What if I lost my job tomorrow? What if my house burned down tomorrow? What if I got hurt while working (and not that "I kind of pulled the muscles in my back" bull - the type where you destroy discs in your back or lose some kind of appendage or your sight)? Then you can relax and say: The government will help me get back on my feet. They will be there to help find my way back. Not "the government owes me this." Not "the government should have to pay for everything." Not "I'm hurt enough that it pinches a little when I move; my workplace hurt me and the government should pay for it."
Ironically, I believe we perpetrate the lower classes by allowing this to happen. What's the saying about teaching a man to fish? Instead of providing those chronically on social programs with more and more money, let's start teaching them to navigate their way to self-sustainment. Don't throw greenbacks at the problem and let it leak all over the place. We shouldn't even be having this conversation about kicking drug addicts off welfare. They do need the help, after all. They know better but can't find their way out. Don't fund their houses and addictions just so they have the sorriest-looking thing that they call a livelihood until kingdom come. Let's get people to be productive parts of society and not just strung out along for the ride (no pun intended).
Now, I know there are exceptions. There are people who will need help the rest of their lives. There are people who are so disabled that there is no hope of recovery. But is it the majority? No. This is why social programs exist: Because people who truly need the help will have it when they need it. I have two autistic cousins who are blossoming under the diligent work of their parents and the social programs they are a part of to become productive once they are adults. They are extremely bright, energetic and going to school. Maybe someday they will crunch numbers alongside the smartest engineers or impress professors at a prestigious art academy. But for now, the social programs are there to help lay the groundwork alongside the parents, and it's the way it should be: Attentive parents who need help understanding a condition their children have in order to make them the very best they can be. Building to their strengths. Helping them understand shortcomings and how to get around them.
And really, isn't that part of the American existence? We're not so different from autistic children, people dealing with chronic back pain from a work injury or young widows with children to support. Social programs should be there to help them re-center, build their strengths and get around their shortcomings in tragic life-changing events... finding a way to get back on their feet. We're not all superheroes in the face of adversity, but we're not all damsels in distress, either.
Monday, December 14, 2009
What a Decade
But I think these past 10 years were probably the most exciting for me yet. I'll have to count the life-changing events in there because there were so many. Tuck in for some reminiscing and allow me to take you through the last 10 years of my life:
1999: I graduated from high school in May and attended college at Penn State Behrend, and starting working at Wegmans (I will always have fond memories). Is this when Spence wrecked his first car? We take our annual family trip to Maine.
2000: Spence graduates from high school and decides to attend RIT in Rochester. He proposed to me that summer and I accepted. It was the beginning of a three-year long-distance engagement, and particularly depressing for the first few weeks. Spence drives his Relient K home to Erie every few weeks to visit. Our first OBX vacation. I get a tattoo and hide it from my parents for about a month.
2001: September 11. I will always remember this year, as will most Americans. Is this when the Relient K dies and Spence has to learn how to drive an '87 ('84?) Corvette in the snow? He teaches me how to drive it, the first standard I'll ever learn to drive. I start learning the layout of Rochester, NY and meet his roomie, Greg and friend Terry from work.
2002: At first, I can't remember a darn thing that happened this year, but then I remember - school is in full swing. I was elected president of Behrend's chapter of APO for both semesters in 2002. Promoted to managing editor for The Beacon. I'm a Schreyer Honors scholar and start my thesis work in the fall. Another OBX vacation. I turn 21 and get my belly button pierced and party. Spence starts a full-time job and school full-time.
2003: Pass thesis defense. I graduate from college. Spence and I marry in July, and we move to Rochester. After a fantastic honeymoon, I am not happy to leave Erie and have to adjust to living away from home for the very first time. Over Thanksgiving break, we buy two cats who are litter mates - Wesley and Buttercup. Our first apartment, a 750 sq. ft. one-bedroom flat, cuddles us in nicely. I work two jobs - Wegmans and the beverage cart chick at a local country club - and then land a job as a project manager at Element K.
2004: I find out on September 11 that I'm pregnant. I spend the rest of the year trying not to puke. One look at our one-bedroom flat and it's time to ask friends and family to move us into a two-bedroom townhouse down the street. With many tears, sweat and curse words, we serve free pizza and beer to those who moved a king-size mattress and solid oak bed set up our narrow stairway. Another OBX vacation in the summer.
2005: The words "starting a business" and "California" escape Spencer's lips when I'm eight months pregnant, and I cry at the thought of moving so far away from family. Rachel Anna makes her debut on May 17 after over 33 hours of labor (three hours of pushing) and the summer is bright, hot and spent on maternity leave, recuperating by walking up and down Lilac Drive every morning. Spencer graduates five days after her birth, on my birthday. OBX vacation.
2006: "Starting a business" and "California" are a reality. Spence leaves for California in May while I pack and wrap up our life in Rochester for a new endeavor on the West Coast. I lose the rest of my baby weight (20 lb.) during this time and remember sobbing as I left my mom and sisters in the Buffalo airport. California welcomes me in August with endless blue skies and seeing my husband for the first time in 10 weeks. I begin my own transcription business with the help of my aunt as a transcription apprentice. OBX, Florida and Maine that summer, but without Spence. We cook our first Thanksgiving dinner by ourselves. Weekly webcam nights begin. I join Facebook and MySpace.
2007: Life in California becomes habit. Spence works nonstop to keep a roof over us. Rachel and I spend the time exploring Sunnyvale. Spence, Rach and I spend Saturdays exploring the coast, getting lunch and enjoying San Francisco, Monterey Bay, Half Moon Bay and the Pacific Ocean. I get my nose pierced. My mom comes to visit around Easter, and then the rest of my family come in July to see the West Coast. I fly home in August for baby showers, parties, friends and family. We come home for Christmas. The economy crashes and the housing bubble blows. The business is on its last legs.
2008: The New Year brings new decisions - Spence decides it is time to move back East and start exploring other business avenues. Spence leaves to start his job on April 1. Mom comes to California one last time to help me pack. We hire movers this time around to carry our boxes and unload for us in Pennsylvania, in a quiet town south of Pittsburgh, in a three-bedroom townhouse. Cindy gets married. Elizabeth gets married. I get pregnant again and spend the rest of the year trying not to puke. We start to pay off debt from the business venture. OBX vacation.
2009: I get another job doing medical transcription. The country elects a black man as President. Tim gets married. Sela Chloe is born with flying colors (that's a gross pun) in a mere four hours of labor. The day is bright, hot and spent cuddling in a quiet birthing facility in downtown Pittsburgh. Family comes to celebrate I sleep in my own bed that night and shower in my own bathroom in the morning. We miss OBX. Sela gets colic. Rachel starts preschool. Sara starts driving.
I think I have more than enough to be thankful for as this decade begins to wind down. I count 15 life-changing events in this decade (one marriage, two graduations, four moves, two kids, three job changes for me, three job changes for him).
If you look online, the past decade is full of unfulfilled dreams, unpaid bills, a war and a warmer climate. You'll probably find something different, though, if you look in your heart. What was your decade like? How do you want your next decade to look? Me? I hope the next decade looks just as good as this past one.
Monday, December 07, 2009
Facebook Red Tape
So, lately I've realized that when I log into Facebook and Twitter these days, I find myself censoring myself before typing up a status or a Tweet. This is not necessarily a bad thing, because some days I'm prone to more profanity than others, but now I wonder why I'm doing it. Instead of these online tools opening the world to me, I find myself Tweeting a few times in my head before actually taking fingers to keyboard. There are three reasons I've identified so far, and there are probably more, but socializing online has created something of quandary for me when it comes to speaking my mind:
-Passive-aggressive statuses: Yesterday after the Steelers lost to the Raiders, I changed my Facebook status to "Defecting from Steelers Nation." Yeah, it was immature and in the heat of the moment, and I LOVE that one of my girlfriends told me to not take the bandwagon way out of it - she was direct about it and got me out of my funk. But then another friend updated her status later, essentially saying that "seriously, it's only a game... wow." Then one of her comments stated that she didn't hate the Steelers but didn't get why everyone gets so pissed off about their team losing. Look, maybe I was being a big baby that my team lost. Maybe she wasn't directing it at me. But then again, who was she directing her comments at? Couldn't you just comment on their wall and own up to your opinions? Just tell us how you really feel. Don't pussyfoot it. I can see everything that people do on Facebook... If we're so scared to have an opinion, maybe we should just keep it to ourselves.
-Family on Facebook: I love that my family is on Facebook, because I'm out of town and like to see what is going on their lives. At a Halloween party this year, I disseminated that fact to a fellow partygoer, who vowed that she would never, ever friend her parents on Facebook. She even looked a bit weirded out that I used Facebook in a different way than she did. Which gets me thinking: How we conduct ourselves in front of others is usually based on its social context. For example, we all act, censor and conduct ourselves in a particular way at work versus playing poker at a friend's house or partying at a bar. We are not wholly the same person in those situations. What does that say about our virtual selves, then? Who are you on Facebook? Who are you on Twitter? Can you say you're the same person in real life as on Facebook (and Facebook is NOT real life. I don't care how many teenyboppers say otherwise). But I will admit that there are some things I just don't discuss on Facebook because of who's been reading my status updates. I feel much more comfortable discussing some things in person.
-There's always another point of view: Recently I signed the Hopenhagen petition and posted it to my Facebook profile, feeling in a somewhat proactive mood. I got a comment from a former coworker of mine asking me to read a scholarly paper on the Copenhagen summit, which highlighted a lot of opposing points on which the summit might not be the best thing for the United States, and there were a lot of things to think about. Another former coworker posted (not in response to me) about the carbon footprint of the summit, and it was just awful: Hundreds of private planes, over 1,000 limos, and a mere five hybrid vehicles, because Denmark taxes the hell out of those suckers. Add that to the fact that there is a question of whether humans actually caused climate change, and the corporate sponsors of the Hopenhagen petition (Coca-Cola, BMW and Gap?!), I wonder if the petition truly outlined my hopes for how we conduct ourselves in reducing waste and not leaving so much garbage for our children. Regardless of whether the ice caps are melting because of humans or a natural change in the Earth's temperatures, we should continue our recycling habits anyway... but what are the implications of policy change for the world's most powerful governments and corporations? Is the movement towards being "green" beginning in the right place? Yeah, I don't know either.
As usual, I'm not sure if this analysis of my self-censoring will get me any closer to being more honest about who I am on Facebook compared to real life. I usually reserve my most controversial opinions about things to those closest to me, and my husband gets the brunt of it. These meanderings through social media have not only muddled what kinds of things I'm comfortable sharing online, but also ensured that anything I post is forever preserved on a server somewhere in the world, along with the other billions of Facebook statuses and Tweets that have come and are yet to be. If someone really cared, they could paint a picture of me using my entire Facebook history and come to a conclusion about who I am online. Would it be accurate to me, the person I see every day in the mirror? No. There are certain things I like to keep a mystery. At least the "About Me" section on my profile is completely and wholly reflective of who I am in person: "Come get to know me. I've got work to type."
-Passive-aggressive statuses: Yesterday after the Steelers lost to the Raiders, I changed my Facebook status to "Defecting from Steelers Nation." Yeah, it was immature and in the heat of the moment, and I LOVE that one of my girlfriends told me to not take the bandwagon way out of it - she was direct about it and got me out of my funk. But then another friend updated her status later, essentially saying that "seriously, it's only a game... wow." Then one of her comments stated that she didn't hate the Steelers but didn't get why everyone gets so pissed off about their team losing. Look, maybe I was being a big baby that my team lost. Maybe she wasn't directing it at me. But then again, who was she directing her comments at? Couldn't you just comment on their wall and own up to your opinions? Just tell us how you really feel. Don't pussyfoot it. I can see everything that people do on Facebook... If we're so scared to have an opinion, maybe we should just keep it to ourselves.
-Family on Facebook: I love that my family is on Facebook, because I'm out of town and like to see what is going on their lives. At a Halloween party this year, I disseminated that fact to a fellow partygoer, who vowed that she would never, ever friend her parents on Facebook. She even looked a bit weirded out that I used Facebook in a different way than she did. Which gets me thinking: How we conduct ourselves in front of others is usually based on its social context. For example, we all act, censor and conduct ourselves in a particular way at work versus playing poker at a friend's house or partying at a bar. We are not wholly the same person in those situations. What does that say about our virtual selves, then? Who are you on Facebook? Who are you on Twitter? Can you say you're the same person in real life as on Facebook (and Facebook is NOT real life. I don't care how many teenyboppers say otherwise). But I will admit that there are some things I just don't discuss on Facebook because of who's been reading my status updates. I feel much more comfortable discussing some things in person.
-There's always another point of view: Recently I signed the Hopenhagen petition and posted it to my Facebook profile, feeling in a somewhat proactive mood. I got a comment from a former coworker of mine asking me to read a scholarly paper on the Copenhagen summit, which highlighted a lot of opposing points on which the summit might not be the best thing for the United States, and there were a lot of things to think about. Another former coworker posted (not in response to me) about the carbon footprint of the summit, and it was just awful: Hundreds of private planes, over 1,000 limos, and a mere five hybrid vehicles, because Denmark taxes the hell out of those suckers. Add that to the fact that there is a question of whether humans actually caused climate change, and the corporate sponsors of the Hopenhagen petition (Coca-Cola, BMW and Gap?!), I wonder if the petition truly outlined my hopes for how we conduct ourselves in reducing waste and not leaving so much garbage for our children. Regardless of whether the ice caps are melting because of humans or a natural change in the Earth's temperatures, we should continue our recycling habits anyway... but what are the implications of policy change for the world's most powerful governments and corporations? Is the movement towards being "green" beginning in the right place? Yeah, I don't know either.
As usual, I'm not sure if this analysis of my self-censoring will get me any closer to being more honest about who I am on Facebook compared to real life. I usually reserve my most controversial opinions about things to those closest to me, and my husband gets the brunt of it. These meanderings through social media have not only muddled what kinds of things I'm comfortable sharing online, but also ensured that anything I post is forever preserved on a server somewhere in the world, along with the other billions of Facebook statuses and Tweets that have come and are yet to be. If someone really cared, they could paint a picture of me using my entire Facebook history and come to a conclusion about who I am online. Would it be accurate to me, the person I see every day in the mirror? No. There are certain things I like to keep a mystery. At least the "About Me" section on my profile is completely and wholly reflective of who I am in person: "Come get to know me. I've got work to type."
Friday, November 13, 2009
A Funny for Friday the 13th
I dropped off Rachel at school this morning, came home, and emptied and re-filled the dishwasher. I got myself some breakfast while Sela wailed for me to feed her too. I got her latched on, drank my vanilla soy milk, ate two pieces of raisin toast, and started doing my web-surfing ritual. Sela fell asleep. Then it dawned on me that I was chanting "jellyfishing, jellyfishing, jellyfishing," a la Spongebob Squarepants, in tune with the rinse cycle of the dishwasher. Because that's what it sounds like.
If you find my senses, please return them to me. Thanks.
Skip to 1:23. It's the only one I could find.
If you find my senses, please return them to me. Thanks.
Skip to 1:23. It's the only one I could find.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A senator, a priest and a health care bill walk into a bar...
Imagine my pleasure at finding a rare species of Democrat, the pro-lifer. Based on what you hear in the news, you'd think they were extinct - but they're out there, and the people have voted for them into positions of power, which is such an encouraging piece of information to have discovered today. (I'm being slightly droll, folks.)
Anyway, now that the ever-dreaded Health Care Bill (capitalized because it has brought the best praise and worst criticisms out of people) has passed the House, it makes a beeline for the Senate's vote. Nebraska Sen. Ben Nelson has stated that he will not vote for a health care bill that basically allows public dollars (i.e. yours and mine) to fund abortions. Cue the Californian Sen. Barbara Boxer, who inevitably intones that abortion restrictions demonstrate discrimination tactics against women. While Senate Finance Chairman Max Baucus promises to find a middle ground to get the bill passed to the President's desk, an interesting postscript to the whole discussion is what 40 House Democrats did to get the bill passed in the first place. They agreed to the severe abortion restrictions to get the bill passed, and then sent a letter to the House Speaker threatening to block the bill if the Senate passed it without easing the abortion restrictions.
This is all very expected, although I didn't realize that the House could block the bill after the Senate passed it. When I started reading the comments below, an interesting theme presented itself: while the pro-life and pro-choice voices discussed their predictable arguments, some folks intoned that the Catholic Church's tax exempt status should be revoked because of their role in encouraging - nay, even forcing - their views on this health bill by preventing the medical procedure to be a part of it. Even more interesting is the fact that two of my Facebook friends recently joined a Facebook group called "Revocation of tax exempt status from churches engaging in political action." Most claim that the clear line between church and state has been blurred too much, and the involvement, money and time of religious institutions have clearly exceeded the arbitrary limit of what should be allowed for tax-exempt organizations. (I do have to note that the organizers of the group appear to not question if there is a God, or Jesus saves, or to become atheist.)
Now, here is my full disclosure. Over the past couple weeks, priests have surely taken to the pulpit to preach about this and asked us to send letters to our Congresspeople to encourage them to vote against any health bill that uses tax dollars to fund abortions. They have asked us to love gays but not support marriages outside ones between a man and a woman, since opening the question of who constitutes a marriage could lead to other questions on marriage, such as why we are not allowed to marry our brothers, sisters, mothers or fathers. They have asked us not support in-vitro, surrogacy and gay adoption. They have told us that Catholic charities and adoptive centers are forced to close their doors because they will not allow gay and lesbian couples to adopt as it constitutes discrimination. I've been to church and heard the messages.
So with that all being said, here is my question: If religious institutions and other nonprofits are not allowed to encourage their members to act in a politically moral way by contributing their voice, time and money, then how else are they supposed to preach their message? I just can't figure out why I have to pay taxes to let my voice be heard. Since I was born on American soil, I don't have to pay one dime to vote. I don't have to pay my government to peacefully protest for what I believe. I pay for military and police protection and decent roads to drive on. Quite honestly, I could take it one step further and say that the far left is encouraging organizations (not just religious - the AARP and the NAACP, for example) to lose their tax-exempt status in order to fund their huge agenda of spending, but I'm probably venturing into some serious conspiracy theory waters there - but it's not a far stretch. The national debt has now swelled beyond the debt in 1945 following World War II already, without the passage of this health bill, and my children and grandchildren will pay, pay, pay for this. But I digress.
Look, most of these people do not understand that by focusing on the religious right organizations that they also paint themselves into a corner with the AARP and NAACP. Take away the churches' tax-exempt status, and you give the government no choice but to being following suit with the elderly and colored people organizations, too. This isn't just a question of a separation of church and state. Those two organizations are far more powerful in the United States than most folks realize, and they would indeed be in danger of paying taxes. Oh, wait - NOW is tax-exempt, too! How about that! There are suspect organizations all over the place plastering the political arena with their controversial agendas. It's not just the Catholic Church.
This is why I ruminate on all these things and the media's influence on it. No matter where you turn, you're being influenced by media, whether it's mainstream American news or social media. You can find words to support your cause all over the place, and eventually, all it turns into is a cacophony of voices screaming at our government to vote how we want them to. Instead of using our votes to properly influence legislation, we're avoiding our right to vote by being lazy on Voting Day and waiting until legislation has been proposed, and then screaming our heads off for the electorate to change their minds or stay the course. We don't do our own research. We let the media do the thinking for us, instead of letting it be a guide to our decision-making process. We accept, accept, accept instead of thinking THEN acting. We scream, scream scream instead of walking to the middle, extending a hand to say "I won't promise to agree with you, and I won't make you promise to agree with me, but I'll listen if you listen."
Since I'm just a tax-paying citizen, I'm not sure if I'm obliged to you, my readers, for divulging more of my political views, although it probably couldn't hurt. Here's what I'll do: I'll meet my readers halfway.
Anyway, now that the ever-dreaded Health Care Bill (capitalized because it has brought the best praise and worst criticisms out of people) has passed the House, it makes a beeline for the Senate's vote. Nebraska Sen. Ben Nelson has stated that he will not vote for a health care bill that basically allows public dollars (i.e. yours and mine) to fund abortions. Cue the Californian Sen. Barbara Boxer, who inevitably intones that abortion restrictions demonstrate discrimination tactics against women. While Senate Finance Chairman Max Baucus promises to find a middle ground to get the bill passed to the President's desk, an interesting postscript to the whole discussion is what 40 House Democrats did to get the bill passed in the first place. They agreed to the severe abortion restrictions to get the bill passed, and then sent a letter to the House Speaker threatening to block the bill if the Senate passed it without easing the abortion restrictions.
This is all very expected, although I didn't realize that the House could block the bill after the Senate passed it. When I started reading the comments below, an interesting theme presented itself: while the pro-life and pro-choice voices discussed their predictable arguments, some folks intoned that the Catholic Church's tax exempt status should be revoked because of their role in encouraging - nay, even forcing - their views on this health bill by preventing the medical procedure to be a part of it. Even more interesting is the fact that two of my Facebook friends recently joined a Facebook group called "Revocation of tax exempt status from churches engaging in political action." Most claim that the clear line between church and state has been blurred too much, and the involvement, money and time of religious institutions have clearly exceeded the arbitrary limit of what should be allowed for tax-exempt organizations. (I do have to note that the organizers of the group appear to not question if there is a God, or Jesus saves, or to become atheist.)
Now, here is my full disclosure. Over the past couple weeks, priests have surely taken to the pulpit to preach about this and asked us to send letters to our Congresspeople to encourage them to vote against any health bill that uses tax dollars to fund abortions. They have asked us to love gays but not support marriages outside ones between a man and a woman, since opening the question of who constitutes a marriage could lead to other questions on marriage, such as why we are not allowed to marry our brothers, sisters, mothers or fathers. They have asked us not support in-vitro, surrogacy and gay adoption. They have told us that Catholic charities and adoptive centers are forced to close their doors because they will not allow gay and lesbian couples to adopt as it constitutes discrimination. I've been to church and heard the messages.
So with that all being said, here is my question: If religious institutions and other nonprofits are not allowed to encourage their members to act in a politically moral way by contributing their voice, time and money, then how else are they supposed to preach their message? I just can't figure out why I have to pay taxes to let my voice be heard. Since I was born on American soil, I don't have to pay one dime to vote. I don't have to pay my government to peacefully protest for what I believe. I pay for military and police protection and decent roads to drive on. Quite honestly, I could take it one step further and say that the far left is encouraging organizations (not just religious - the AARP and the NAACP, for example) to lose their tax-exempt status in order to fund their huge agenda of spending, but I'm probably venturing into some serious conspiracy theory waters there - but it's not a far stretch. The national debt has now swelled beyond the debt in 1945 following World War II already, without the passage of this health bill, and my children and grandchildren will pay, pay, pay for this. But I digress.
Look, most of these people do not understand that by focusing on the religious right organizations that they also paint themselves into a corner with the AARP and NAACP. Take away the churches' tax-exempt status, and you give the government no choice but to being following suit with the elderly and colored people organizations, too. This isn't just a question of a separation of church and state. Those two organizations are far more powerful in the United States than most folks realize, and they would indeed be in danger of paying taxes. Oh, wait - NOW is tax-exempt, too! How about that! There are suspect organizations all over the place plastering the political arena with their controversial agendas. It's not just the Catholic Church.
This is why I ruminate on all these things and the media's influence on it. No matter where you turn, you're being influenced by media, whether it's mainstream American news or social media. You can find words to support your cause all over the place, and eventually, all it turns into is a cacophony of voices screaming at our government to vote how we want them to. Instead of using our votes to properly influence legislation, we're avoiding our right to vote by being lazy on Voting Day and waiting until legislation has been proposed, and then screaming our heads off for the electorate to change their minds or stay the course. We don't do our own research. We let the media do the thinking for us, instead of letting it be a guide to our decision-making process. We accept, accept, accept instead of thinking THEN acting. We scream, scream scream instead of walking to the middle, extending a hand to say "I won't promise to agree with you, and I won't make you promise to agree with me, but I'll listen if you listen."
Since I'm just a tax-paying citizen, I'm not sure if I'm obliged to you, my readers, for divulging more of my political views, although it probably couldn't hurt. Here's what I'll do: I'll meet my readers halfway.
- I do not want my tax dollars used for abortion. Fetuses are both babies and live beings. I would be in favor of teaching sexual responsibility, however, and encouraging parents to be NOT be lazy and let the schools do it for them. For criminy's sake, tell your kids about STDs and pregnancy. Tell your kids that having a baby will not produce someone who loves you - babies only love themselves. That is their survival mechanism. (I have a blog entry awaiting rumination about that, too.) Tell your kids that sex does not always equal love. Tell your boys to be responsible men and to take their fertility as seriously as women do. Tell your girls that marriage and pregnancy do not always equal happiness - loving thyself is the first step to building a life of love. Tell your kids what abortion is: A medical procedure that scrapes and vacuums the inside of a woman's uterus in order to prevent the birth of a live baby. It's surgery, it's risky, and with any other procedure, it has its risks.
- I believe that the definition of marriage spans social, cultural and religious contexts, and that marriage is between a man and a woman. However, I would be in favor of permanent partnerships - the "everything but marriage" rights, for those folks who love those kinds of catchy phrases. Give them equal rights, but don't force religious institutions to marry them. Let them enjoy the same tax obligations and divorce laws that the rest of us do. I don't think it's right or fair that a committed gay or lesbian couple do not have rights to see their sick loved ones in a hospital or not be able to get health insurance on their partners' plans. Let the United States give equal rights, but don't force churches to do the same.
- I don't mind that my current tax dollars could fund a safety net for folks who lose their health insurance - who knows, someday I might need that safety net. But I don't want my government to force me to keep the public option once I find another job. Don't make me do that. That's utter bull and taking away my right to choose coverage for me and my family. There's also a steep fine - I believe it's 2.5% of gross adjusted income - for people and families declining the coverage who don't qualify for the subsidy. The middle class bell curve is becoming skinnier by the day. Don't penalize me if I don't have insurance just so you can ensure the income to fund that behemoth of a public plan in order to avoid raising taxes. I have an education and a head on my shoulders that works properly. I appreciate the fact that my tax dollars will go towards insuring my insurance coverage (???) but trust me when I say that I have the ability to get my own job and pay for whatever insurance I choose, regardless if I have to use the public option or not.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Horse is Dead
Among gossip blogs and news outlets alike, there are a few people who are still in the news that, well, shouldn't be. Are we trying to ignore the impending health care legislation that will soon make its debut in the Senate? Ignoring the 10% unemployment rate? Whatever we are trying to get away from, I still can't believe the following clowns are still getting jawed over:
Carrie Prejean: A conservative beauty queen whose remarks about gay marriage brought her front and center, but now we just have to read about her sex tape and her anti-porn remarks. Honey, you ain't the only one with an overblown ego and still providing a worthless job for your publicist. See Kardashian, Khloe.
Paris Hilton: Ok, she actually does a few things like sell some perfume and help luxury designers keep size-11 shoes in vogue. Otherwise, this describes exactly what I think is wrong with Hollywood: Brain drain.
Jon Gosselin and Levi Johnston: Two bad fathers getting the limelight. Exactly the role models that young men need these days. Also known for neither of them able to keep it in their pants (Jon's got eight kids, and Levi does his 'Playgirl' shoot next week. If I have to read one more article about manscaping...)
Anyone Lohan: More dysfunctional than when we were introduced to the Osbournes, this family is certified Grade-A quacky. An absentee father and money-grubbing White Oprah fight freely in the spotlight for the next headline about their daughters Lindsay and Ali, with both of the kids looking like they are as old as Mom. Last week, Michael Lohan exposed some juicy taped phone calls about Lindsay's ongoing War on Drugs (she's losing big time). Now Dina Lohan has figured out a way to get her daughter's name associated with Heath Ledger.
Anyone Kardashian: Saturating the news outlets like week-old cat pee, the Kardashians have found plenty of ways to keep the lens in their direction. Pregnancy! (Fake) marriage! Boobs! Butt! Black eyes! Reggie Bush! If you think the name sounds familiar, Google "Kardashian Simpson" and see why.
Joe Jackson: Just... no. His son dies and now he's gossip fodder - of his own making.
Bad Dads in General: Hmm. Jude Law (although Mama isn't that much of a winner either). Balthazar Getty (a married father of four frolicking with Sienna Miller). Larry Birkhead (one of Anna Nicole Smith's several paramours who dragged a DNA fight through the mud). It's too bad there's plenty more.
So why do we thrive on worthless celebrity gossip? Do we love the escape from our own lives? Do we equate this kind of life with money, power or prestige? Is it a way to bring celebs down to our level, trying to find every mistake and sex tape they've made, to bring them down off their pedestal and realize they're more like us inconspicuous folk? It's probably a bit of each. Just another few questions in my unofficial, everlasting study of American news and gossip media, its attempts at showing us newsworthy stories without a filter, and the questions we should ask ourselves when accessing it on a daily basis.
Carrie Prejean: A conservative beauty queen whose remarks about gay marriage brought her front and center, but now we just have to read about her sex tape and her anti-porn remarks. Honey, you ain't the only one with an overblown ego and still providing a worthless job for your publicist. See Kardashian, Khloe.
Paris Hilton: Ok, she actually does a few things like sell some perfume and help luxury designers keep size-11 shoes in vogue. Otherwise, this describes exactly what I think is wrong with Hollywood: Brain drain.
Jon Gosselin and Levi Johnston: Two bad fathers getting the limelight. Exactly the role models that young men need these days. Also known for neither of them able to keep it in their pants (Jon's got eight kids, and Levi does his 'Playgirl' shoot next week. If I have to read one more article about manscaping...)
Anyone Lohan: More dysfunctional than when we were introduced to the Osbournes, this family is certified Grade-A quacky. An absentee father and money-grubbing White Oprah fight freely in the spotlight for the next headline about their daughters Lindsay and Ali, with both of the kids looking like they are as old as Mom. Last week, Michael Lohan exposed some juicy taped phone calls about Lindsay's ongoing War on Drugs (she's losing big time). Now Dina Lohan has figured out a way to get her daughter's name associated with Heath Ledger.
Anyone Kardashian: Saturating the news outlets like week-old cat pee, the Kardashians have found plenty of ways to keep the lens in their direction. Pregnancy! (Fake) marriage! Boobs! Butt! Black eyes! Reggie Bush! If you think the name sounds familiar, Google "Kardashian Simpson" and see why.
Joe Jackson: Just... no. His son dies and now he's gossip fodder - of his own making.
Bad Dads in General: Hmm. Jude Law (although Mama isn't that much of a winner either). Balthazar Getty (a married father of four frolicking with Sienna Miller). Larry Birkhead (one of Anna Nicole Smith's several paramours who dragged a DNA fight through the mud). It's too bad there's plenty more.
So why do we thrive on worthless celebrity gossip? Do we love the escape from our own lives? Do we equate this kind of life with money, power or prestige? Is it a way to bring celebs down to our level, trying to find every mistake and sex tape they've made, to bring them down off their pedestal and realize they're more like us inconspicuous folk? It's probably a bit of each. Just another few questions in my unofficial, everlasting study of American news and gossip media, its attempts at showing us newsworthy stories without a filter, and the questions we should ask ourselves when accessing it on a daily basis.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Halloween Currency Frights
So, today I was at the bank because I couldn't access my savings account online. I had transferred the rest of the money out of the account to cover a bill, but when I tried to put some back in, poof - no savings account. I tried to make a deposit through the ATM. Denied.
*Stomping feet to the car* Fine, I'll bite. Off to the bank branch in person. I gave them my check and asked them to deposit it into my savings account, and... it's not open any more. A manager came over to try to re-open it, but she couldn't, and so our conversation went:
Me: "So, the account is closed? There is a minimum balance?"
Manager: "No. It was just at zero too long."
Me: "But there's no minimum balance?'
Manager: "No."
She was very helpful in opening a new one for me and depositing my check, but now I have a PayPal transaction that's going to have a big, fat FAIL on it when they eventually figure out my savings account had been buried without a proper memorial service. How does an account close itself if there is no minimum balance? How does my account cause the bank any grief if it just sits idle for a few weeks? I think it was at zero for 30 days or so when I realized that I couldn't transfer money to it any more. Does an empty savings account REALLY cause that much overhead that they have to close it? It's just a virtual placeholder, for criminy's sake. Maybe they closed it because they were afraid I was going to use it again and gather that 0.000000001% interest on the balance every quarter. A penny for your savings, please.
You'd think between the precarious position of the dollar and numerous bank failures, Citizens Bank would at least want to keep the option open for me to put money back into the bank. Although, Bank of America has no problem with keeping my credit account open after declining an APR increase, just in case I use the card one day, so they have the option of raising my APR to 14% on one card and 25% on the other. The timeframe for what Obama and his administration signed for the credit laws is simply too long - they should have done a sting operation so the credit companies don't have several months to milk their customers of sinfully high APR percentages, making up new fees and increasing existing ones. I don't know why they look so pleased when we're still hurting.
Oh dear. Between a screaming, colicky baby who is teething at four months old and the general state of our economy, I believe I have turned into an unreasonable nitpicker whose foray into this blog has lost a bit of focus. But what better way to find out what's going on in the national news that to actually live it? Credit used to be cheap, but when it was made available to every person whose credit score was less than perfect, it spiraled out of control. Similarly, when every person could get a mortgage regardless of their income or credit history, those who usually could not afford owning a home are now paying dearly for it.
What does this have to do with my closed savings account? No clue. Not much about this economy or money in general makes sense these days. In order to "save" this economy, everyone has a different theory: Is it spreading the wealth? Spreading opportunity? Trade allies? Ugh, who knows. All I know is that banks are failing and I didn't have a place to rest the money I DO have. If anyone can make sense of that knotty mess, I'd be much obliged.
*Stomping feet to the car* Fine, I'll bite. Off to the bank branch in person. I gave them my check and asked them to deposit it into my savings account, and... it's not open any more. A manager came over to try to re-open it, but she couldn't, and so our conversation went:
Me: "So, the account is closed? There is a minimum balance?"
Manager: "No. It was just at zero too long."
Me: "But there's no minimum balance?'
Manager: "No."
She was very helpful in opening a new one for me and depositing my check, but now I have a PayPal transaction that's going to have a big, fat FAIL on it when they eventually figure out my savings account had been buried without a proper memorial service. How does an account close itself if there is no minimum balance? How does my account cause the bank any grief if it just sits idle for a few weeks? I think it was at zero for 30 days or so when I realized that I couldn't transfer money to it any more. Does an empty savings account REALLY cause that much overhead that they have to close it? It's just a virtual placeholder, for criminy's sake. Maybe they closed it because they were afraid I was going to use it again and gather that 0.000000001% interest on the balance every quarter. A penny for your savings, please.
You'd think between the precarious position of the dollar and numerous bank failures, Citizens Bank would at least want to keep the option open for me to put money back into the bank. Although, Bank of America has no problem with keeping my credit account open after declining an APR increase, just in case I use the card one day, so they have the option of raising my APR to 14% on one card and 25% on the other. The timeframe for what Obama and his administration signed for the credit laws is simply too long - they should have done a sting operation so the credit companies don't have several months to milk their customers of sinfully high APR percentages, making up new fees and increasing existing ones. I don't know why they look so pleased when we're still hurting.
Oh dear. Between a screaming, colicky baby who is teething at four months old and the general state of our economy, I believe I have turned into an unreasonable nitpicker whose foray into this blog has lost a bit of focus. But what better way to find out what's going on in the national news that to actually live it? Credit used to be cheap, but when it was made available to every person whose credit score was less than perfect, it spiraled out of control. Similarly, when every person could get a mortgage regardless of their income or credit history, those who usually could not afford owning a home are now paying dearly for it.
What does this have to do with my closed savings account? No clue. Not much about this economy or money in general makes sense these days. In order to "save" this economy, everyone has a different theory: Is it spreading the wealth? Spreading opportunity? Trade allies? Ugh, who knows. All I know is that banks are failing and I didn't have a place to rest the money I DO have. If anyone can make sense of that knotty mess, I'd be much obliged.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Quick Hitters
With two little girls, a business to run and more transcription than I know what to do with, things have been pretty crazy in my abode, and my poor blog is sprouting cobwebs worse than the ones sold at Wal-Mart for the Halloween season. No matter how small my readership is, I know some of you visit on a frequent basis, so thanks for keeping the faith.
I just have a few brief thoughts on some news items that you are probably familiar with. I'll hyperlink when appropriate; otherwise, you'll just get to hear me jabber on!
I just have a few brief thoughts on some news items that you are probably familiar with. I'll hyperlink when appropriate; otherwise, you'll just get to hear me jabber on!
- A Facebook friend made a great point on her status today: In a nutshell, Ed Rendell is asking sick folks to stay home and recuperate without spreading H1N1. The friend thought it "funny" that Rendell can say this to folks living near or below the poverty line while he earns six figures. How sad is that? Job security is shakier than ever, and yet we feel that we have to choose between spreading our germs or keeping our jobs.
- Is it me, or does the sex offender/missing child ratio seem to favor the Florida area more than most? Another day, another child dies at the hands of some sicko in that Southern state. Yet another Facebook friend posted what she'd like to do to these people, and I can say that some very bad thoughts indeed have crossed my mind if someone were to get their paws on my girls.
- I think everyone should be able to have health insurance. There was a time when I faced a lapse in coverage, and it was awful. But I'm not sure the Dems have the right idea with this public option. For starters, the deficit has swelled to the amount it was after WWII. That is a right large deficit for me, my husband, children and children's children to pay off. Insurance companies have gotten much too powerful, but then again, I don't want to stay in the public option if I leave my job, especially if I can afford a private plan.
- Did anyone else cheer when Ken Lewis (Bank of America CEO) resigned from BofA, and then pay czar Kenneth Feinberg asking him to pay back $1M in compensation? And then did anyone get SPITTING mad when we found out his compensation package ($69.3M)? Look, you need to pay good money to good businessmen and entrepreneurs who can help create jobs. But when he turns into a crook who is making me pay 25% interest on a debt incurred from a failed business attempt, with no late payments or other blemish on my perfect credit record, then I wonder how BofA can afford to give that compensation while posting a third-quarter loss of about $1 billion? No one wins.
- H1N1. I'm not vaccinating against that or seasonal/regular flu. I'm not against it, but I've got worries about vaccinating against a virus. That said, it's killing people my age, so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried a little bit.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Proof that the U.S. Still Needs a Lesson in Diplomacy
Just reading the first few paragraphs of this column made me think about the exact reason why many nations hate the self-proclaimed "Free World."
Ed Rollins, a frequent contributor to CNN, states in the highlights of his column that Obama says "winning over U.S. foes isn't an important foreign policy goal." He further goes on to state that President Bush and his team, while making some mistakes, was in office during 09/11 and kept this country safe throughout both his terms, and then explores what happened during the UN National Security Council meeting last week.
*Looking around* First of all, I thought we were past the "everyone play nice in the sandbox" negotiations. Mr. Rollins, we're dealing with adult men here. If they have power in their hands, they'll want the big toys that everyone else has, and saying "NO! BAD LEADER! PUT IT DOWN!" in your best Lewis Black imitation is only going to make them want it more. Let's get real here.
At the UNNSC meeting, the 15 countries' representatives approved a six-page measure that would encourage a nuclear weapon-free world. And who was gathered around that table? China. France. The Russian Federation. Britain. U.S. No one's giving up those nuclear bad boys. Neither is Pakistan, Israel or India. Furthermore, Mr. Rollins suggests that the real goal of the meeting should have been to admonish North Korea and Iran for creating nuclear weapons, and to stop and desist immediately. France's Nicolas Sarkozy even went as far as calling the Security Council "weak" for not being more forceful about this, especially with Iran flexing their nuclear muscles by testing short- and long-range missiles during the same timeframe of the meeting. Obama states:
To be sure, I did not mind that we went to war. Diplomacy in 2001 was not what we needed. 09/11 was an act of war, and we went in with guns blazing. But eventually we strayed from the path while trying to find the rightful enemy. We strayed from looking for who we needed to, tripped over our own feet, landed in Iraq and thought we could take this on, too. Now Obama has a mess in Afghanistan to start all over, which is where we should have stayed in the first place to look for these people.
But I digress, as usual. Let's get back to diplomacy. Courtesy of Wikipedia:
For anyone who has kids: Don't we need positive reinforcement more? Granted, I'm short on that sometimes with my 4-year-old daughter. It's easier to yell and say "KNOCK IT OFF" than to encourage them when they are being good and staying out of your hair. Diplomacy is kind of like that. We see these other leaders treating their people and countries like garbage, but bullying them relentlessly will not mend their ways. As long as we haven't been dealt an act of war, we need to figure out a way to start talking to these people. It's not pleasant, but diplomacy never is. Dirty and hard work, that is. But there is no diplomacy if no one is listening.
Let me be clear: 09/11 was an act of war, and I think the response was appropriate. I think it was misguided as the war went on, spreading ourselves too thin, and I think Obama is right to focus back on Afghanistan and put Iraq to the side now. But for Iran and North Korea, who have yet to bomb us, we have the power on our side. We don't need to be bosom buddies with Ahmadinejad and Jong-il. We don't have to share our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with them and tell them all our little secrets. But we've got to find a way to keep communication open so that they will actually listen when we speak. What is war, really, than a child who tunes out an ever-berating parent to do their own thing without regard for anyone else?
Ed Rollins, a frequent contributor to CNN, states in the highlights of his column that Obama says "winning over U.S. foes isn't an important foreign policy goal." He further goes on to state that President Bush and his team, while making some mistakes, was in office during 09/11 and kept this country safe throughout both his terms, and then explores what happened during the UN National Security Council meeting last week.
*Looking around* First of all, I thought we were past the "everyone play nice in the sandbox" negotiations. Mr. Rollins, we're dealing with adult men here. If they have power in their hands, they'll want the big toys that everyone else has, and saying "NO! BAD LEADER! PUT IT DOWN!" in your best Lewis Black imitation is only going to make them want it more. Let's get real here.
At the UNNSC meeting, the 15 countries' representatives approved a six-page measure that would encourage a nuclear weapon-free world. And who was gathered around that table? China. France. The Russian Federation. Britain. U.S. No one's giving up those nuclear bad boys. Neither is Pakistan, Israel or India. Furthermore, Mr. Rollins suggests that the real goal of the meeting should have been to admonish North Korea and Iran for creating nuclear weapons, and to stop and desist immediately. France's Nicolas Sarkozy even went as far as calling the Security Council "weak" for not being more forceful about this, especially with Iran flexing their nuclear muscles by testing short- and long-range missiles during the same timeframe of the meeting. Obama states:
How, before the eyes of the world, could we justify meeting without tackling them? ... We live in the real world, not a virtual world. And the real world expects us to take decisions.So, Obama is trying to figure out a way to negotiate and be the diplomat. Something that Bush never really tried to do, even though he had some brilliant minds on his advisory team. Every time that man opened his mouth, it was stubborn, tight-fisted "THERE ARE WMDs OUT THERE" that squandered whatever steam he had going for the revenge that this country wanted after watching thousands of innocents die at the hands of religious fanatics.
To be sure, I did not mind that we went to war. Diplomacy in 2001 was not what we needed. 09/11 was an act of war, and we went in with guns blazing. But eventually we strayed from the path while trying to find the rightful enemy. We strayed from looking for who we needed to, tripped over our own feet, landed in Iraq and thought we could take this on, too. Now Obama has a mess in Afghanistan to start all over, which is where we should have stayed in the first place to look for these people.
But I digress, as usual. Let's get back to diplomacy. Courtesy of Wikipedia:
Diplomacy: "The art and practice of conducting negotiations between representatives of groups or states."Nowhere does it say that it is a means to being chummy the enemy. No matter how despicable these people are, if you want to talk to them, you've got to play a tiny bit nice. Look what Bill Clinton did to release those two young ladies from North Korea - he went over there, posed for a picture with the Oriental Elvis (I'm trying to be nice but it's HARD) and got those girls back home to their families. Kim Jong-il is a bastard and a nut, but that doesn't mean we can just brush them off over and over and shake our fingers at them, because it'll keep pushing them. They have control over millions of people, and if we succeed at making them more angry at us, they'll keep going in the wrong direction.
For anyone who has kids: Don't we need positive reinforcement more? Granted, I'm short on that sometimes with my 4-year-old daughter. It's easier to yell and say "KNOCK IT OFF" than to encourage them when they are being good and staying out of your hair. Diplomacy is kind of like that. We see these other leaders treating their people and countries like garbage, but bullying them relentlessly will not mend their ways. As long as we haven't been dealt an act of war, we need to figure out a way to start talking to these people. It's not pleasant, but diplomacy never is. Dirty and hard work, that is. But there is no diplomacy if no one is listening.
Let me be clear: 09/11 was an act of war, and I think the response was appropriate. I think it was misguided as the war went on, spreading ourselves too thin, and I think Obama is right to focus back on Afghanistan and put Iraq to the side now. But for Iran and North Korea, who have yet to bomb us, we have the power on our side. We don't need to be bosom buddies with Ahmadinejad and Jong-il. We don't have to share our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with them and tell them all our little secrets. But we've got to find a way to keep communication open so that they will actually listen when we speak. What is war, really, than a child who tunes out an ever-berating parent to do their own thing without regard for anyone else?
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