Are 8-year-olds really that wise already?? If these "interviews" are real then I'm in for a surprise (maybe I should move out of the city before it's too late)...I didn't know anything about that stuff until I was in my teens, I think...
;) still... funny stuff.
> HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY?
>>You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
* Alan, 10
>> No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry.God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.
* Kirsten, 10
> WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?
>> Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person forever by then.
* Camille, 10
>> No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
* Freddie, 6
> HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?
>> You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
* Derrick, 8
> WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?
>> They both don't want any more kids.
* Lori, 8
> WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?
>> Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
* Lynnette, 8
>> On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
* Martin, 10
>WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?
>> I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
* Craig, 9
> WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?
>> When they're rich.
* Pam, 7
> >The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that.
* Curt, 7
> >The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
* Howard, 8
> IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?
> >I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm never going to have sex with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed out.
* Theodore, 8
>> It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
* Anita, 9
> HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?
> >There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
* Kelvin, 8
> HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?
> >Tell your wife that she looks pretty even if she looks like a truck.
* Ricky, 10
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Sunday, April 24, 2005
sunday at the reptile show :/
so while other husbands (e.g. my friend Johnny) took their wives to cool spots such as the SoHo Apple store and little pastry shops in the village, my husband dragged me to the Yonkers Annual Reptile show, where I waited an hour and a half in the car only for him to come out with a bunch of geckos that resemble these cats without hair (i.e. disgusting) which he just couldn't resist buying. Granted I did finally do some reading after I got bored looking at the passing excentric show-visitors (leatherpants, wallets on chains, and hair dyes inspired by the colors of the rainbow).
He's put the geckos in a tank on the kitchen counter. Won't be eating there again, thank you very much. He's feeding them crickets now (ieeehhhw.)
Maybe, I'll set them free. freeeee.
Poor animals. ... Dario says I'm a hypocrite and I'd better turn vegan with that attitude. He's right... but you know ... at least, I buy eggs only from cage-free hens...and I don't eat veal. But yeah, I am being a hypocrite.
He's put the geckos in a tank on the kitchen counter. Won't be eating there again, thank you very much. He's feeding them crickets now (ieeehhhw.)
Maybe, I'll set them free. freeeee.
Poor animals. ... Dario says I'm a hypocrite and I'd better turn vegan with that attitude. He's right... but you know ... at least, I buy eggs only from cage-free hens...and I don't eat veal. But yeah, I am being a hypocrite.
Friday, April 22, 2005
isn't this discriminatory?
so, I went out with Rosa last night to try and catch a movie. We never made it due to two major accidents on 96th Street (one on the north side and one on the south side). We managed to exit just before everything came to a complete still-stand (north and south). When we drove back up-town 2 hours later, people were still stuck behind the south-side accident scene, sitting on the roofs of their cars, waiting. To think what difference just an instant makes. Had I taken a minute less in the bathroom before leaving, I don't know what part of that accident we would have been in. I wonder what happened to the people in the flipped over car ... or the ones in the completely smashed one on our side...
Moments like this bring me back to my perpetual state of accident paranoia. I think this is why I never have had an accident and I've been driving since I'm 13 (obviously, legally only at 18..in Austria, that is.). I am humble enough to never underestimate life in traffic. I always feel lucky to make it from point A to point B, and never take it for granted (and I'd say I'm not a bad driver, at all). There are other people I know, however, who are so sure of their driving they never seem to travel with this fear in the back of their minds. Take Dario, for example. How this man makes it anywhere the way he drives remains a mystery to me...but I am grateful for whatever it is that keeps that man out of trouble. He is a speed demon, runs red lights, cuts people off, makes u-turns out of this world...it took me years to get used to it and to stop bitching. Sometimes it's even funny to hear the quiet snap of the backseat buckle and passengers' transformation from relaxed to concerned, when they first ride with him.
Anyway, so we didn't make it to the movie and instead strolled around Times Square which was, at 11p.m.(!), still packed with people. This is why I love New York. The city never sleeps.
Rosa's wish was some time in Virgin Records. When it was my turn, I decided we could use a bit of dancing. And so we trooped over to one of my old clubbing-spots - La Escuelita - a gay (men's) club on 39th Street. Thursdays used to be best to go there. It was always packed, pumping and I could dance as dirty as I wanted to without any worries of some dude trying to come rub up from behind. Also, gay men know how to partyyy....so we always had a blast. At 2a.m. they always had a drag-queen show, which was just great. And the whole thing cost us 3 bucks to get in. Now, this isn't too long ago. Maybe 2 years since I went the last time. On Thursday nights, the club was always frequented by mostly gay men but also plenty of straight girls and some straight men.
Yesterday, however, Rosa and I were stopped at the door.
"Boys only, tonight," the bouncer said towering over us.
What? I was in shock. Since when? Why? Can they do that? Come ooon.
"You can come tomorrow," was the bouncer's reply.
"Tomorrow is lesbian night and that defeats the purpose of me coming here. Then it'll just be some girl trying to come on to me," I said, moping.
"You sure are vain," Rosa laughed, probably happy she didn't have to go to a club at midnight. ;)
So, I've been thinking about this. Can they do that? Isn't that discrimination based on the list of those things one's not to discriminate about? ...gender..
hmmm. either way...this sucks. this was a great clubbing spot.
Moments like this bring me back to my perpetual state of accident paranoia. I think this is why I never have had an accident and I've been driving since I'm 13 (obviously, legally only at 18..in Austria, that is.). I am humble enough to never underestimate life in traffic. I always feel lucky to make it from point A to point B, and never take it for granted (and I'd say I'm not a bad driver, at all). There are other people I know, however, who are so sure of their driving they never seem to travel with this fear in the back of their minds. Take Dario, for example. How this man makes it anywhere the way he drives remains a mystery to me...but I am grateful for whatever it is that keeps that man out of trouble. He is a speed demon, runs red lights, cuts people off, makes u-turns out of this world...it took me years to get used to it and to stop bitching. Sometimes it's even funny to hear the quiet snap of the backseat buckle and passengers' transformation from relaxed to concerned, when they first ride with him.
Anyway, so we didn't make it to the movie and instead strolled around Times Square which was, at 11p.m.(!), still packed with people. This is why I love New York. The city never sleeps.
Rosa's wish was some time in Virgin Records. When it was my turn, I decided we could use a bit of dancing. And so we trooped over to one of my old clubbing-spots - La Escuelita - a gay (men's) club on 39th Street. Thursdays used to be best to go there. It was always packed, pumping and I could dance as dirty as I wanted to without any worries of some dude trying to come rub up from behind. Also, gay men know how to partyyy....so we always had a blast. At 2a.m. they always had a drag-queen show, which was just great. And the whole thing cost us 3 bucks to get in. Now, this isn't too long ago. Maybe 2 years since I went the last time. On Thursday nights, the club was always frequented by mostly gay men but also plenty of straight girls and some straight men.
Yesterday, however, Rosa and I were stopped at the door.
"Boys only, tonight," the bouncer said towering over us.
What? I was in shock. Since when? Why? Can they do that? Come ooon.
"You can come tomorrow," was the bouncer's reply.
"Tomorrow is lesbian night and that defeats the purpose of me coming here. Then it'll just be some girl trying to come on to me," I said, moping.
"You sure are vain," Rosa laughed, probably happy she didn't have to go to a club at midnight. ;)
So, I've been thinking about this. Can they do that? Isn't that discrimination based on the list of those things one's not to discriminate about? ...gender..
hmmm. either way...this sucks. this was a great clubbing spot.
Thursday, April 21, 2005
blogging time
it's been a bit hard to find time to blog lately.
this is an update of what I've been doing... so if you're looking for an semi-interesting anecdote, check back in a few days when I hope to have posted something less boring than my to-do-list.
First of all, I've been taking a class this semester. I graduated in 2000 but taking a class once in a while adds some diversity to my day....HA HA..like I need more shit to do. But seriously, I'm glad I have a different kind of pressure in my daily routine. The pressure of getting stuff done for class. So, this is a digital photography & contemporary art class. The book we're reading is way too avant-garde for me (they call that photography?) but I love the fact that I have projects and critiques and an exhibition to prepare for.
The up-coming exhibit, of course, adds stress. I have decided to do interviews in combination with my photographs and I totally underestimated the work involved when doing interviews about people's life stories. I bought the "Illustrated Guide to Radio" from >This American Life, one of my all-time-favorite radio shows. If you have a few minutes to spare, I highly recommend you listen to one or two of their stories (all archived on their website). They have great (and, of course, real) stories.
If I had the time I'd be stalking Ira Glass to absorb some interview tips. Also, ...I'd have to be in Chicago...so Ira, you're off the hook. ... Look at me, talking to Ira, as if I knew him...or as if he'd read my blog ...HA .. time for some coffee to fix the loose connections in my brain.
ok. I'm back. coffee steaming next to me.
My friend Shelly just told me about this article she read in the Financial Times or something like that. Anyway, they calculated the following:
If you buy ONE grande mocca from Starbucks every day for five years you'd spend about the same amount you'd need for a downpayment on a house in Westchester (nice suburb of NYC). Now, I didn't do the math to double-check this statement but if this is true then I would have had the downpayment for a house in freakin' Fieldston years ago. (non New Yorkers: Fieldston is the mansion part of the Bronx/Riverdale.).
In light of these calculations I then made my way to get coffee at the diner instead of the Starbucks joint. I don't like Starbucks coffee anyway but I'm a sucker for their mocca.
In general, I'm more of a Dunkin' Donuts kinda girl.
ok. I should be working. so, I'll continue blogging later. thanks for stopping by and never lose faith when I haven't written for a while. I'll always be back. I've got way too big of a mouth to keep it shut. (and to the dirty minds in the audience: get your mind out of the gutter!)
this is an update of what I've been doing... so if you're looking for an semi-interesting anecdote, check back in a few days when I hope to have posted something less boring than my to-do-list.
First of all, I've been taking a class this semester. I graduated in 2000 but taking a class once in a while adds some diversity to my day....HA HA..like I need more shit to do. But seriously, I'm glad I have a different kind of pressure in my daily routine. The pressure of getting stuff done for class. So, this is a digital photography & contemporary art class. The book we're reading is way too avant-garde for me (they call that photography?) but I love the fact that I have projects and critiques and an exhibition to prepare for.
The up-coming exhibit, of course, adds stress. I have decided to do interviews in combination with my photographs and I totally underestimated the work involved when doing interviews about people's life stories. I bought the "Illustrated Guide to Radio" from >This American Life, one of my all-time-favorite radio shows. If you have a few minutes to spare, I highly recommend you listen to one or two of their stories (all archived on their website). They have great (and, of course, real) stories.
If I had the time I'd be stalking Ira Glass to absorb some interview tips. Also, ...I'd have to be in Chicago...so Ira, you're off the hook. ... Look at me, talking to Ira, as if I knew him...or as if he'd read my blog ...HA .. time for some coffee to fix the loose connections in my brain.
ok. I'm back. coffee steaming next to me.
My friend Shelly just told me about this article she read in the Financial Times or something like that. Anyway, they calculated the following:
If you buy ONE grande mocca from Starbucks every day for five years you'd spend about the same amount you'd need for a downpayment on a house in Westchester (nice suburb of NYC). Now, I didn't do the math to double-check this statement but if this is true then I would have had the downpayment for a house in freakin' Fieldston years ago. (non New Yorkers: Fieldston is the mansion part of the Bronx/Riverdale.).
In light of these calculations I then made my way to get coffee at the diner instead of the Starbucks joint. I don't like Starbucks coffee anyway but I'm a sucker for their mocca.
In general, I'm more of a Dunkin' Donuts kinda girl.
ok. I should be working. so, I'll continue blogging later. thanks for stopping by and never lose faith when I haven't written for a while. I'll always be back. I've got way too big of a mouth to keep it shut. (and to the dirty minds in the audience: get your mind out of the gutter!)
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Handling Tantrums
I wrote this in a half hour for Maia's pre-school's newsletter (and since I didn't find time to blog this week I am posting this. If you aren't a parent, don't bother reading it...it's a bit corny, I think) :
----------------------------------------------------------
If there is one thing I hate dealing with it’s when Maia goes into temper tantrum mode. I have to be so adult and collected when really I want to scream right back at her for being so “irrationally angry” about that candy-bar I’m not giving her, or the dress she’s not allowed to wear because it’s 8 degrees outside.
Of course, I know the steps I should be taking when my little one goes into this inaccessibility mode, however, it’s another story to apply these steps. In the past (before having my second child last year), I’ve been obsessive about researching parenting issues but sometimes I need a reminder. Lately I’ve been so exhausted from work, school and two small children, I’ve resorted to watching Super Nanny or Nanny 911 on TV instead of picking up a book. But hey, if they can tame those little monsters on the show within a week then they must be doing something right. If this isn’t all staged, that is. ;)
Anyway, I’m a perfect example of today’s modern (somewhat educated) parent. I mix and match all kinds of advice and the other day I actually applied a word of wisdom I heard from that English super nanny on TV.
The show featured one family, which included a mother just as stubborn as her little daughter. Instead of dealing with the strong-minded child’s emotions, the mother let her own high-strung feelings get in the way and would just lock the screaming kid in a room for a time-out. Granted, the child threw a cup of water at her mother to get this punishment, it still wasn’t the right approach to deal with the situation effectively. Somehow I identified. Maia can truly get me to a point at which I feel utterly powerless, my nerves almost at the edge. If it were the olden days I’d be spanking her all day long (just kidding, she’s not that bad…especially as she’s getting older). However, I am really glad that I am an educated parent, for it reminds me of the fact that I am dealing with a small child and not an adult. She lives in a different world.
So, when Maia began falling into a tantrum stage the other day, and I was about to sit her down on her time-out chair to cool off, I did one thing different (Super Nanny in the back of my mind;). Instead of leaving her to scream it out for a few minutes, I gave her two options. I said: “Maia, you can stay here in time-out to scream and cry or you can calm down and talk to me. What do you want to do?” She took a deep breath, controlled her outburst and told me straight-up: “Talk to me, please.”
I couldn’t believe she actually told me what I was supposed to read between the lines. I felt so guilty for almost ignoring her emotions and just having her scream it out. They want us to talk to them. To hug them. To listen to them. At least, Maia does.
And that’s what I did. I listened to her and I gave her alternatives to the things she could not have. I said: “Honey, you cannot come with me right now but you could play a computer game for a little bit, have some gum, and when I come back we’ll go to the park. Ok?” This schedule update seemed to work. She knew what was coming and it helped her cope with the fact that she could not come with me at that moment.
Then I gave her a big hug and a kiss and I could feel her appreciation for this affectionate behavior even though we had just been bumping our heads. She knows I love her even when I’m angry and I tell her all the time.
----------------------------------------------------------
If there is one thing I hate dealing with it’s when Maia goes into temper tantrum mode. I have to be so adult and collected when really I want to scream right back at her for being so “irrationally angry” about that candy-bar I’m not giving her, or the dress she’s not allowed to wear because it’s 8 degrees outside.
Of course, I know the steps I should be taking when my little one goes into this inaccessibility mode, however, it’s another story to apply these steps. In the past (before having my second child last year), I’ve been obsessive about researching parenting issues but sometimes I need a reminder. Lately I’ve been so exhausted from work, school and two small children, I’ve resorted to watching Super Nanny or Nanny 911 on TV instead of picking up a book. But hey, if they can tame those little monsters on the show within a week then they must be doing something right. If this isn’t all staged, that is. ;)
Anyway, I’m a perfect example of today’s modern (somewhat educated) parent. I mix and match all kinds of advice and the other day I actually applied a word of wisdom I heard from that English super nanny on TV.
The show featured one family, which included a mother just as stubborn as her little daughter. Instead of dealing with the strong-minded child’s emotions, the mother let her own high-strung feelings get in the way and would just lock the screaming kid in a room for a time-out. Granted, the child threw a cup of water at her mother to get this punishment, it still wasn’t the right approach to deal with the situation effectively. Somehow I identified. Maia can truly get me to a point at which I feel utterly powerless, my nerves almost at the edge. If it were the olden days I’d be spanking her all day long (just kidding, she’s not that bad…especially as she’s getting older). However, I am really glad that I am an educated parent, for it reminds me of the fact that I am dealing with a small child and not an adult. She lives in a different world.
So, when Maia began falling into a tantrum stage the other day, and I was about to sit her down on her time-out chair to cool off, I did one thing different (Super Nanny in the back of my mind;). Instead of leaving her to scream it out for a few minutes, I gave her two options. I said: “Maia, you can stay here in time-out to scream and cry or you can calm down and talk to me. What do you want to do?” She took a deep breath, controlled her outburst and told me straight-up: “Talk to me, please.”
I couldn’t believe she actually told me what I was supposed to read between the lines. I felt so guilty for almost ignoring her emotions and just having her scream it out. They want us to talk to them. To hug them. To listen to them. At least, Maia does.
And that’s what I did. I listened to her and I gave her alternatives to the things she could not have. I said: “Honey, you cannot come with me right now but you could play a computer game for a little bit, have some gum, and when I come back we’ll go to the park. Ok?” This schedule update seemed to work. She knew what was coming and it helped her cope with the fact that she could not come with me at that moment.
Then I gave her a big hug and a kiss and I could feel her appreciation for this affectionate behavior even though we had just been bumping our heads. She knows I love her even when I’m angry and I tell her all the time.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
discovering the audio blog feature
inspired by David Duchovny's audio blog I had to try it. soo cool and soo easy.
good news on my 3-yr old's career plans
Today my little 3-year old made me a happy mom (and I never thought that line works....but once she said it it was like an inevitable parent-pride-mechanism kicked in)....she said "Mom, I wanna be a doctor!"
I don't know if you remember the blog-entry with Maia's previous plans for her future. ..this was a few months ago when she proclaimed that when she grows up she will clean toilets (knowing that toilet brushes are off limits to her at the moment). ;)
Anyway, so today she says
- Mom I wanna be a doctor. And then a teacher.
- oh really? (happy euphoric imaginary somersault...which I am surprised by myself)
- yes
- and what kind of doctor would you be? I ask.
- a.....spooky doctor, she says.
- a spooky doctor? (my euphory fades)
- yeah.... and I'm gonna bite people.
- oohkayy.... (and silently "oh no, she's gonna be a psycho doctor and create inspiration for future Horror movie screenwriters...no, no... ok. let's focus on the positive....") ...and what will you teach your students when you become a teacher?
- I will teach them to be nice and kind...
- thank God, I think
- ... and how to watch Spongebob, and how to be a princess and how to be a black horse.
Maia is really a joy to converse with these days. She never stops talking and her mind takes her to quite funny places.
Also, .... I would like to capture this for myself...today she wrote by herself the following:
Beth, Howie, Mom, Dad, Nayla, I
'Maia' she can spell for a while now...but I wasn't aware she knew how to write Ys and Ls and Ws.
Every time I tried to help her...she'd tell me to be quiet... she always wants to figure everything out herself. If I try to intervene too much, she gets frustrated and drops everything....that's why I stay back with all of the alphabet stuff.... at least for now.... she has enough time for that later on but, of course, I'm psyched she's so into reading, writing, and all that. She'll probably be the opposite kind of teenager ;)
Let's see.
I don't know if you remember the blog-entry with Maia's previous plans for her future. ..this was a few months ago when she proclaimed that when she grows up she will clean toilets (knowing that toilet brushes are off limits to her at the moment). ;)
Anyway, so today she says
- Mom I wanna be a doctor. And then a teacher.
- oh really? (happy euphoric imaginary somersault...which I am surprised by myself)
- yes
- and what kind of doctor would you be? I ask.
- a.....spooky doctor, she says.
- a spooky doctor? (my euphory fades)
- yeah.... and I'm gonna bite people.
- oohkayy.... (and silently "oh no, she's gonna be a psycho doctor and create inspiration for future Horror movie screenwriters...no, no... ok. let's focus on the positive....") ...and what will you teach your students when you become a teacher?
- I will teach them to be nice and kind...
- thank God, I think
- ... and how to watch Spongebob, and how to be a princess and how to be a black horse.
Maia is really a joy to converse with these days. She never stops talking and her mind takes her to quite funny places.
Also, .... I would like to capture this for myself...today she wrote by herself the following:
Beth, Howie, Mom, Dad, Nayla, I
'Maia' she can spell for a while now...but I wasn't aware she knew how to write Ys and Ls and Ws.
Every time I tried to help her...she'd tell me to be quiet... she always wants to figure everything out herself. If I try to intervene too much, she gets frustrated and drops everything....that's why I stay back with all of the alphabet stuff.... at least for now.... she has enough time for that later on but, of course, I'm psyched she's so into reading, writing, and all that. She'll probably be the opposite kind of teenager ;)
Let's see.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
crazy stupid law suit
this is from an interview between my friend Evi and me. The interview is part of an art-project but since I've been meaning to blog the below incident for a while and never found time I just posted the part from the interview, in which I happen to tell that story:
---------------------------------------------------------
[...]
Sis: and now, on top of it all,..did I tell you this story?
Evi: nope
Sis: Rosa was in her car waiting in line to turn; in front of her were two cars. A brand new Lexus all the way in the front and a cabby just in front of her. ..and she was getting something from the floor or something and her foot slipped off the gas …so she very lightly tapped the cab in front of her. So, the cabdriver gets out of his car and makes this huge scene. There was nothing wrong, though,…no scratches on any of the three cars…the cabbie had also bumped the Lexus. The only thing that happened was that the cab’s license plate cover had fallen off. So, Rosa was like “you really wanna call the police? We’re going to wait her for 2 hours and this will cost you like 7 Dollars…here I give you 10 Dollars.” ..but he’s like “no no,…blahblahblah”, so they sit and wait there for the police. After about an hour someone from the auto-shop across the street walks over to the Lexus in front and hands the people inside a business card. And Rosa is watching this ..wondering. So, finally the police arrives (after like an hour and a half)…the cab-driver is already totally annoyed, ..he has to be somewhere or something…so, when the cop asks if he claims any damage, he’s just like “no, no…I gotta go.” So Rosa is like “what? You’re making us wait here for an hour and a half and then you’re not claiming anything?” ..so anyway, it was for nothing..
Evi: oh no…
Sis: a couple of weeks later she gets a letter …the people from the Lexus which also didn’t have a scratch on it, are suing her for 5 Million Dollars!
Evi: for what??
Sis: for whip-lash or something like that. I was like “what? Whip-lash? You went like 1mph…not even…” …so basically …a total scam… but she now has to go to court and all this ..
Evi: and she has to have a lawyer?
Sis: ehm..yeah…she has to do everything… but ..her ex-husband is a lawyer and he said that they already have a problem because they didn’t serve the papers to her…they handed the letter to her 15-year old son. …so that’s a loophole, right there. ......5 Million dollars…
Evi: (laughs)
Sis: A friend of mine’s aunt apparently makes a living out of this. She just sues people. All she does is going to court and looking for scenarios which allow for a lawsuit.
Evi: and nobody says anything?
Sis: nope. This is how it works here. You can sue for anything and people take advantage of it ...that’s why everyone is so paranoid. That’s why you can’t do anything…people are always scared to get sued.
Evi: and there is no judge stopping her? Telling her, she’s crazy and he’s seen her 5 times this week already?
Sis: I guess, not,…it’s the law. She can make the law work for her.
---------------------------------------------------------
[...]
Sis: and now, on top of it all,..did I tell you this story?
Evi: nope
Sis: Rosa was in her car waiting in line to turn; in front of her were two cars. A brand new Lexus all the way in the front and a cabby just in front of her. ..and she was getting something from the floor or something and her foot slipped off the gas …so she very lightly tapped the cab in front of her. So, the cabdriver gets out of his car and makes this huge scene. There was nothing wrong, though,…no scratches on any of the three cars…the cabbie had also bumped the Lexus. The only thing that happened was that the cab’s license plate cover had fallen off. So, Rosa was like “you really wanna call the police? We’re going to wait her for 2 hours and this will cost you like 7 Dollars…here I give you 10 Dollars.” ..but he’s like “no no,…blahblahblah”, so they sit and wait there for the police. After about an hour someone from the auto-shop across the street walks over to the Lexus in front and hands the people inside a business card. And Rosa is watching this ..wondering. So, finally the police arrives (after like an hour and a half)…the cab-driver is already totally annoyed, ..he has to be somewhere or something…so, when the cop asks if he claims any damage, he’s just like “no, no…I gotta go.” So Rosa is like “what? You’re making us wait here for an hour and a half and then you’re not claiming anything?” ..so anyway, it was for nothing..
Evi: oh no…
Sis: a couple of weeks later she gets a letter …the people from the Lexus which also didn’t have a scratch on it, are suing her for 5 Million Dollars!
Evi: for what??
Sis: for whip-lash or something like that. I was like “what? Whip-lash? You went like 1mph…not even…” …so basically …a total scam… but she now has to go to court and all this ..
Evi: and she has to have a lawyer?
Sis: ehm..yeah…she has to do everything… but ..her ex-husband is a lawyer and he said that they already have a problem because they didn’t serve the papers to her…they handed the letter to her 15-year old son. …so that’s a loophole, right there. ......5 Million dollars…
Evi: (laughs)
Sis: A friend of mine’s aunt apparently makes a living out of this. She just sues people. All she does is going to court and looking for scenarios which allow for a lawsuit.
Evi: and nobody says anything?
Sis: nope. This is how it works here. You can sue for anything and people take advantage of it ...that’s why everyone is so paranoid. That’s why you can’t do anything…people are always scared to get sued.
Evi: and there is no judge stopping her? Telling her, she’s crazy and he’s seen her 5 times this week already?
Sis: I guess, not,…it’s the law. She can make the law work for her.
potential papal successors & muslim women leading prayer
kinda scary to look at that list of papal successor candidates... especially the one who considers homosexuality a "disease of the soul" ... geez.... imagine they pick that one. And hey, ..I didn't know they have altar GIRLS ...cool...and I'm not even Christian ;)
Anyway, if I were to pick one of those guys (and why do they have to be all men anyway)... I would pick Francis Arize. But truly, I did not read everyone's profile. Just about half.
Is there anyone on that long list who might suit that job better (in this day and age)?
Another thing I wanted to mention was this newscast I heard on NPR:
In New York City, a Muslim woman recently led men and women in prayer for the first time ever, according to organizers. And they had to hold the sermon in a church, for all mosks refused to let them lead prayer...or, I think, some of them were afraid of terror attacks..[click here for more details and a link to the audio file]
I had goosebumps for the duration of the entire newscast. This is huge.
Anyway, if I were to pick one of those guys (and why do they have to be all men anyway)... I would pick Francis Arize. But truly, I did not read everyone's profile. Just about half.
Is there anyone on that long list who might suit that job better (in this day and age)?
Another thing I wanted to mention was this newscast I heard on NPR:
In New York City, a Muslim woman recently led men and women in prayer for the first time ever, according to organizers. And they had to hold the sermon in a church, for all mosks refused to let them lead prayer...or, I think, some of them were afraid of terror attacks..[click here for more details and a link to the audio file]
I had goosebumps for the duration of the entire newscast. This is huge.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
violating husband-wife boundaries...
so, this weekend I finally went where I hadn't gone before in the ever evolving husband-wife boundary issue. Inspired by some of my male friends' stories, how their wives routinely would throw out questionable (clothing) items of theirs without asking and them apparently accepting this fact of wife-control without any further arguments, I decided it was time to move to this deeper level of intimacy or whatever this kind of behavior could be labeled.
Weeks passed, as I over and over tried to throw out the one item of Dario's I had my eyes on for disposal for years. These old, strangely bleach-stained jeans of his, which I had nicknamed "sperm-pants" due to the nature of the stain's shape and appearance.
Knowing, however, that Dario loved these jeans I found myself unable to overstep this boundary. I just couldn't throw something out that wasn't mine.
One day, I came home as Dario was cleaning up a bit (a rare sight). He had garbage bags set up into which he had dumped large amounts of papers. Glancing into the bags (ok. rummaging suspiciously through them) I found a couple of my things which he had tossed out without asking. I was upset but my short-term memory is too bad to remember these little things and therefore makes it impossible for me to hold a grudge. I probably would if I would only remember.
Anyway, so I told him how this upset me.
"Hey, why are you throwing out my stuff?? I don't throw out yours without asking! That's just not right," I complained.
- "Ahr, I don't care...we have so much sh*t in the house. You can throw my crap out, too. If I won't notice, I don't care," he replied dismissively.
This permission must have registered somewhere in my leaking brain, for about a week ago I took my first step in throwing out Dario-accumulated-garbage WITHOUT asking him (->if I ask him, he always has plans for whatever is in discussion).
It was a crib-rail he had dragged in from the garbage three weeks earlier and which had ever since been standing next to the main entry. Ugly but apparently with potential. He wanted to turn it into a picture holder. Never mind the fact that he needed costum glass plates made and probably would have to saw off one end to make the thing look even.
Dario, I told him when he first brought it in, when are you going to undertake this project? You don't even have time to put up the pictures we have ready-made frames for. I waited a year for you to put up the curtains in Maia's room until finally Rosa did it. I just don't see this happening."
"Don't worry. Everything is planned," he updated me a few days ago not having noticed that I had thrown the cribrail out a week before. I didn't say anything; just felt really guilty, for I had forgotten (thanks to my brain-leakage) that at some point..not too long ago...he had given me permission for such action.
Anyway, yesterday he noticed the thing was gone and I finally had to admit that I threw it out.
He was upset and threatened to start throwing out all of my sh*t, too.
After feeling bad and guilty for about a day, trying to figure out why I would do such a horrible thing and this so isn't like me, I fortunately finally remembered his oral permission and held him to it. Of course, he kept on arguing.
Dude, I pleaded, I'm scarred, ok. I've seen you drag in carburators and other engine parts, leaving them on my foyer table for weeks. Heck, once you spent 800 bucks on an engine laying in someone's basement just because you thought it was a good deal. Never mind the fact that you didn't have a matching car, a way to move the engine from it's location, and no budget to be spending 800 bucks.
- I don't care... I'm gonna start throwing out aaaall your sh*t, he said as if I had said nothing of sense.
At this point of the conversation I just gave up.
All I know is that I still have plenty of things in my house that have no place anywhere but .. oh, so much potential to come into functionality ONE day.
Weeks passed, as I over and over tried to throw out the one item of Dario's I had my eyes on for disposal for years. These old, strangely bleach-stained jeans of his, which I had nicknamed "sperm-pants" due to the nature of the stain's shape and appearance.
Knowing, however, that Dario loved these jeans I found myself unable to overstep this boundary. I just couldn't throw something out that wasn't mine.
One day, I came home as Dario was cleaning up a bit (a rare sight). He had garbage bags set up into which he had dumped large amounts of papers. Glancing into the bags (ok. rummaging suspiciously through them) I found a couple of my things which he had tossed out without asking. I was upset but my short-term memory is too bad to remember these little things and therefore makes it impossible for me to hold a grudge. I probably would if I would only remember.
Anyway, so I told him how this upset me.
"Hey, why are you throwing out my stuff?? I don't throw out yours without asking! That's just not right," I complained.
- "Ahr, I don't care...we have so much sh*t in the house. You can throw my crap out, too. If I won't notice, I don't care," he replied dismissively.
This permission must have registered somewhere in my leaking brain, for about a week ago I took my first step in throwing out Dario-accumulated-garbage WITHOUT asking him (->if I ask him, he always has plans for whatever is in discussion).
It was a crib-rail he had dragged in from the garbage three weeks earlier and which had ever since been standing next to the main entry. Ugly but apparently with potential. He wanted to turn it into a picture holder. Never mind the fact that he needed costum glass plates made and probably would have to saw off one end to make the thing look even.
Dario, I told him when he first brought it in, when are you going to undertake this project? You don't even have time to put up the pictures we have ready-made frames for. I waited a year for you to put up the curtains in Maia's room until finally Rosa did it. I just don't see this happening."
"Don't worry. Everything is planned," he updated me a few days ago not having noticed that I had thrown the cribrail out a week before. I didn't say anything; just felt really guilty, for I had forgotten (thanks to my brain-leakage) that at some point..not too long ago...he had given me permission for such action.
Anyway, yesterday he noticed the thing was gone and I finally had to admit that I threw it out.
He was upset and threatened to start throwing out all of my sh*t, too.
After feeling bad and guilty for about a day, trying to figure out why I would do such a horrible thing and this so isn't like me, I fortunately finally remembered his oral permission and held him to it. Of course, he kept on arguing.
Dude, I pleaded, I'm scarred, ok. I've seen you drag in carburators and other engine parts, leaving them on my foyer table for weeks. Heck, once you spent 800 bucks on an engine laying in someone's basement just because you thought it was a good deal. Never mind the fact that you didn't have a matching car, a way to move the engine from it's location, and no budget to be spending 800 bucks.
- I don't care... I'm gonna start throwing out aaaall your sh*t, he said as if I had said nothing of sense.
At this point of the conversation I just gave up.
All I know is that I still have plenty of things in my house that have no place anywhere but .. oh, so much potential to come into functionality ONE day.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
The Terri Schiavo dilemma
I'm sure by now everyone is familiar with the Terri Schiavo case.
A woman having been in a vegetative state for 15 years, awake but not aware the doctors say. According to her husband her living will was to end an existence as such. He has gone through 19 courts over the years, all of which gave him right. Terri Schiavo's parents are fighting the Supreme Court's decision of disconnecting the tubes... or actually, they have been disconnected and they want them reconnected.
Anyway, what this case made me ponder are two things:
1. Are there actually people who would like to continue their life tied to a bed not being able to move anything at all, being kept alive artificially? And what about a case like this? According to the story Terri Schiavo doesn't even know she is alive. Would anyone want to live such an existence...if they knew beforehand it's coming? I certainly wouldn't want to burden my family with such pain and cost..
2. And this one is a really tough one for me. So, ... if you believe in God you know that suicide is apparently unacceptable (throwing away gift of God and plan or something like that). Murder isn't very much the thing to do either... except when at war, if I'm correct.
So, what does a case like this fall into? Is it suicide, murder, or is it an acceptable death, for she wouldn't live without the medical assistance anyway?
...
A woman having been in a vegetative state for 15 years, awake but not aware the doctors say. According to her husband her living will was to end an existence as such. He has gone through 19 courts over the years, all of which gave him right. Terri Schiavo's parents are fighting the Supreme Court's decision of disconnecting the tubes... or actually, they have been disconnected and they want them reconnected.
Anyway, what this case made me ponder are two things:
1. Are there actually people who would like to continue their life tied to a bed not being able to move anything at all, being kept alive artificially? And what about a case like this? According to the story Terri Schiavo doesn't even know she is alive. Would anyone want to live such an existence...if they knew beforehand it's coming? I certainly wouldn't want to burden my family with such pain and cost..
2. And this one is a really tough one for me. So, ... if you believe in God you know that suicide is apparently unacceptable (throwing away gift of God and plan or something like that). Murder isn't very much the thing to do either... except when at war, if I'm correct.
So, what does a case like this fall into? Is it suicide, murder, or is it an acceptable death, for she wouldn't live without the medical assistance anyway?
...
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
asthma??
today wasn't a good day...or at least so far.
first of all, I didn't get much sleep for the 4th night in a row. Nayla caught a cold that once again has become so bad that she's begun weezing, and that all comes in addition to the constant lamenting about her errupting teeth. So, first thing this morning I took her to the pediatrician who once again told me that she won't call this asthma, yet, but then prescribed an asthma medicine and sent me home with an inhaler (or actually, a nebulizer). After I sat with little crying Nayla for twenty minutes in front of the pediatrician office's nebulizer, trying to get her to inhale as much of the medicated steam as possible, I was pretty worked up. The fact that every parent walking by inquired about her condition with empathy in their eyes, didn't exactly help. Unfortunately, I had left my cell-phone at home and I couldn't discuss my anxiety about the word "Asthma" with anyone. I surpressed any kind of emotional outbreaks and carried on as if nothing phased me.
When I got home, I listened to my accumulated voicemails and decided to return my boss' message first. Bad idea. I completely flipped. I cursed around like a hoochie-mama from the street, got loud, and finally ended it with breaking out in tears. I was so embarrassed. Never, ..I mean, NEVER has something like this happened to me.
I am usually way too professional and detached when it comes to business. In other words, business is business. However, this wasn't about the incompetent idiots from the Moving Office who I was bitching to my boss about, this was about Nayla and the fact that I hadn't talked to anyone about this, yet.
I apologized several times, told him not to pay me any mind, and to rest assured that I am not crying about this stupid job story.
I'm an idiot but really ... I don't care about anything at the moment, anyway. I care about Nayla and the fact that I'm going to have to give her steroids and some other crap when she is not even a year old.
The doctor says there are no side-effects to these meds....but I never trust blindly. Have to investigate myself (...Pulmicort Resp. and XOpenex).
first of all, I didn't get much sleep for the 4th night in a row. Nayla caught a cold that once again has become so bad that she's begun weezing, and that all comes in addition to the constant lamenting about her errupting teeth. So, first thing this morning I took her to the pediatrician who once again told me that she won't call this asthma, yet, but then prescribed an asthma medicine and sent me home with an inhaler (or actually, a nebulizer). After I sat with little crying Nayla for twenty minutes in front of the pediatrician office's nebulizer, trying to get her to inhale as much of the medicated steam as possible, I was pretty worked up. The fact that every parent walking by inquired about her condition with empathy in their eyes, didn't exactly help. Unfortunately, I had left my cell-phone at home and I couldn't discuss my anxiety about the word "Asthma" with anyone. I surpressed any kind of emotional outbreaks and carried on as if nothing phased me.
When I got home, I listened to my accumulated voicemails and decided to return my boss' message first. Bad idea. I completely flipped. I cursed around like a hoochie-mama from the street, got loud, and finally ended it with breaking out in tears. I was so embarrassed. Never, ..I mean, NEVER has something like this happened to me.
I am usually way too professional and detached when it comes to business. In other words, business is business. However, this wasn't about the incompetent idiots from the Moving Office who I was bitching to my boss about, this was about Nayla and the fact that I hadn't talked to anyone about this, yet.
I apologized several times, told him not to pay me any mind, and to rest assured that I am not crying about this stupid job story.
I'm an idiot but really ... I don't care about anything at the moment, anyway. I care about Nayla and the fact that I'm going to have to give her steroids and some other crap when she is not even a year old.
The doctor says there are no side-effects to these meds....but I never trust blindly. Have to investigate myself (...Pulmicort Resp. and XOpenex).
Monday, March 21, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
screaming lobsters?
----------------
hey johnny,
[...]
haven't seen arrested development in a long time.... sigh. but it sure is funny ;) . don't get to the TV very often. When the thing is on it's usually playing Cinderella for the 200th time. (<- I realize this sentence doesn't make sense in the mathematical world but I'm gonna ignore this fact for now).
won't be doing wine-tasting class with you guys... I don't really drink, in case you've forgotten [islamic up-bringing]. I've just very recently started to try alcohol [for the first time in my life] and all I can take is heavily diluted 'Malibu Pineapple' or a strong Tiramisu. ;) ... wine tastes wayy too strong to me.
Though, I do know what wine goes with lobster now. Bought lobster the other day (it was Rosa's birthday). I don't eat Lobster, either, so it was the first time I had to pick a live animal out of a crammed tank instead of packed meat from the next isle.
It was embarrassing and traumatic. On the one hand I wanted to bring Rosa her favorite dinner (lobster) for her birthday, on the other hand I was fighting with my principles. The whole lobster as a meal story is just too cruel for me. First they sit all crammed in this tank together with another hundred tied up fellow lobsters. Then they get sold and boiled alive.
I cried for like 10 minutes before I could actually take the kicking plastic-bag to the cashier. I cried in the car, too. And REALLY, I don't cry a lot at all. It usually takes a lot to make me cry. I'm not that girly but this really got to me. I felt so bad for them and I felt horrible for actively contributing to their terrible fate of being thrown into boiling water (aliiiive!)
someone told me (the next day) that they don't really scream when they're put in the water (and that they don't really feel pain) but that these high-pitch "screams" are acutally sounds from the shell coming in contact with the hot water. ... I'll have to see this study in writing before I believe it, but it sure made me feel a little bit better.
ok. I have to run.
ttyl,
s.
hey johnny,
[...]
haven't seen arrested development in a long time.... sigh. but it sure is funny ;) . don't get to the TV very often. When the thing is on it's usually playing Cinderella for the 200th time. (<- I realize this sentence doesn't make sense in the mathematical world but I'm gonna ignore this fact for now).
won't be doing wine-tasting class with you guys... I don't really drink, in case you've forgotten [islamic up-bringing]. I've just very recently started to try alcohol [for the first time in my life] and all I can take is heavily diluted 'Malibu Pineapple' or a strong Tiramisu. ;) ... wine tastes wayy too strong to me.
Though, I do know what wine goes with lobster now. Bought lobster the other day (it was Rosa's birthday). I don't eat Lobster, either, so it was the first time I had to pick a live animal out of a crammed tank instead of packed meat from the next isle.
It was embarrassing and traumatic. On the one hand I wanted to bring Rosa her favorite dinner (lobster) for her birthday, on the other hand I was fighting with my principles. The whole lobster as a meal story is just too cruel for me. First they sit all crammed in this tank together with another hundred tied up fellow lobsters. Then they get sold and boiled alive.
I cried for like 10 minutes before I could actually take the kicking plastic-bag to the cashier. I cried in the car, too. And REALLY, I don't cry a lot at all. It usually takes a lot to make me cry. I'm not that girly but this really got to me. I felt so bad for them and I felt horrible for actively contributing to their terrible fate of being thrown into boiling water (aliiiive!)
someone told me (the next day) that they don't really scream when they're put in the water (and that they don't really feel pain) but that these high-pitch "screams" are acutally sounds from the shell coming in contact with the hot water. ... I'll have to see this study in writing before I believe it, but it sure made me feel a little bit better.
ok. I have to run.
ttyl,
s.
finally enabling comments
ok. I'm finally going to open up the comments section.
better don't trash me or I'll close them back up ;) ... or you'll intimidate me and I'll stop bitching altogether. I'm just that way. Too sensitive to what people say.
Too considerate.
That's why I didn't give this blog url to any of my friends (here in NY). I can write more freely this way.
Although, I've just opened my big mouth today and then had to share the url with my very dear friend Vern... who is probably going to comment me to death. ;) Don't trash me Vern! I'm no Fitzgerald, I know... I'm just rambling around.
better don't trash me or I'll close them back up ;) ... or you'll intimidate me and I'll stop bitching altogether. I'm just that way. Too sensitive to what people say.
Too considerate.
That's why I didn't give this blog url to any of my friends (here in NY). I can write more freely this way.
Although, I've just opened my big mouth today and then had to share the url with my very dear friend Vern... who is probably going to comment me to death. ;) Don't trash me Vern! I'm no Fitzgerald, I know... I'm just rambling around.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
this school system could really suck
>---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
>From: JC
>Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2005 14:43:01 -0800 (PST)
[...]
>
>The boys are good. The older is getting really bad
>influencing at school. We need to get him away from
>that. The youngest just turned 4 the other day and I
>can't hide the grays any more. (sigh) Time flies. Oh
>well!!
>
>How are things with the hubbie? We need to catch up.
>
>Ttyl
>JC ;o)
>
---------------------------------------
hey JC,
oh my,...bad school influence is what I am really afraid of. NYC has some of the best schools, though... be picky:
http://www.insideschools.org/
http://www.nycenet.edu/daa/
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9505E0D91031F931A25751C1A9629C8B63
Good luck! ... I am still mad at this system for failing Dario. He was such a geek when he started high-school but entered the worst school in NYC at the time (Alfred E. Smith). His parents didn't know better. They didn't speak a word of English. At first, he would religiously do his homework, come in at 6am for extra credit stuff, etc.
But then he saw how all the "hoodlums" around him would get 80s and 90s for doing nothing, so he tried the same and got away with it.
It made no difference if he studied or tried hard.
He made some really bad friends in HS, too. Just to survive. One of his buddies was one of the Gottis ;) .. I swear.
He saw kids get shot, stabbed, and teachers beat up. ... I guess, this wasn't the place where teachers would take an initiative.
Anyway,... where you send your kids to school makes all the difference. I think the mentality of the kids and the involvement of the parents is most important. You want kids to be kids, right... Not some mini-versions of the thug down the block. It's so sad and this system is pissing me off. Sorry to rant.
Do teachers care at all? Ok, this isn't a fair statement to the ones that do truly care and are involved but the scary thing is that anybody seems to be able to become a teacher, it seems.
There is this one guy I know,...he used to sell weed as his main income...just before he became a HS teacher.
sigh.
ok.
I'm off.
gotta do some more work.
ttyl,
s.
>From: JC
>Date: Mon, 14 Mar 2005 14:43:01 -0800 (PST)
[...]
>
>The boys are good. The older is getting really bad
>influencing at school. We need to get him away from
>that. The youngest just turned 4 the other day and I
>can't hide the grays any more. (sigh) Time flies. Oh
>well!!
>
>How are things with the hubbie? We need to catch up.
>
>Ttyl
>JC ;o)
>
---------------------------------------
hey JC,
oh my,...bad school influence is what I am really afraid of. NYC has some of the best schools, though... be picky:
http://www.insideschools.org/
http://www.nycenet.edu/daa/
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9505E0D91031F931A25751C1A9629C8B63
Good luck! ... I am still mad at this system for failing Dario. He was such a geek when he started high-school but entered the worst school in NYC at the time (Alfred E. Smith). His parents didn't know better. They didn't speak a word of English. At first, he would religiously do his homework, come in at 6am for extra credit stuff, etc.
But then he saw how all the "hoodlums" around him would get 80s and 90s for doing nothing, so he tried the same and got away with it.
It made no difference if he studied or tried hard.
He made some really bad friends in HS, too. Just to survive. One of his buddies was one of the Gottis ;) .. I swear.
He saw kids get shot, stabbed, and teachers beat up. ... I guess, this wasn't the place where teachers would take an initiative.
Anyway,... where you send your kids to school makes all the difference. I think the mentality of the kids and the involvement of the parents is most important. You want kids to be kids, right... Not some mini-versions of the thug down the block. It's so sad and this system is pissing me off. Sorry to rant.
Do teachers care at all? Ok, this isn't a fair statement to the ones that do truly care and are involved but the scary thing is that anybody seems to be able to become a teacher, it seems.
There is this one guy I know,...he used to sell weed as his main income...just before he became a HS teacher.
sigh.
ok.
I'm off.
gotta do some more work.
ttyl,
s.
don't ever honk at a cop
this morning I woke up to a phone-call from my bank telling me we are majorly overdrawn. so much and so often that the overdraft fees went from $30 to $180, thank you very much.
i am usually religious with checking my balance and making sure I don't get screwed by any stupid fees, unfortunately, I forgot about a double-maintenance check I wrote to our building management a few weeks ago (when there was enough money on the account). The management company decided to finally post that check yesterday, completely overdrawing my account. Unluckily, this was just moments before everyone else decided to post their charges (from purchases I made last week), so I got charged an overdraft fee for each one of them (6 times).
And as if this wasn't enough, on my way home, I received another ticket for not wearing my seatbelt. I think, it was the same cop as last time.
"This is New York City", I mumbled as I handed over my license and registration, "don't you have better things to do than stop me for my seatbelt.." - "I'm going to pretend you didn't say this," said the officer in an equally angry and dismissive tone and I kept my mouth shut, remembering my last incident of bitching at the law. T'was the night before...no I'm kidding... it was sometime last year, I believe; I came to a stop behind a copcar triple-parking in a one-way street to talk to another couple of officers in a double-parked car. After about 6 or seven cars had lined up behind me, there was no more space and cars were now blocking traffic in the big intersection a few hundred feet behind me. So, I thought, this would call for a sign for attention and an encouragement to stop chatting. I honked the horn at the cops. Apparently not so good an idea. One of the officers stepped out the car and walked towards me, and may I note, with his hand on his gun. ;)
Anyway, I lowered the window to hear him ask me in amazement:
"Did you just honk at us?"
"ehm...yes," I replied a bit intimidated, "was this inappropriate?"
"I'd say so," the policeman countered, "license and registration, please."
"I only honked because I was worried about the safety of the drivers further behind."
... I really don't remember much what else he or I said but I have to really watch out for my authority issues. At least when it involves people with guns and the power to put me in jail.
i am usually religious with checking my balance and making sure I don't get screwed by any stupid fees, unfortunately, I forgot about a double-maintenance check I wrote to our building management a few weeks ago (when there was enough money on the account). The management company decided to finally post that check yesterday, completely overdrawing my account. Unluckily, this was just moments before everyone else decided to post their charges (from purchases I made last week), so I got charged an overdraft fee for each one of them (6 times).
And as if this wasn't enough, on my way home, I received another ticket for not wearing my seatbelt. I think, it was the same cop as last time.
"This is New York City", I mumbled as I handed over my license and registration, "don't you have better things to do than stop me for my seatbelt.." - "I'm going to pretend you didn't say this," said the officer in an equally angry and dismissive tone and I kept my mouth shut, remembering my last incident of bitching at the law. T'was the night before...no I'm kidding... it was sometime last year, I believe; I came to a stop behind a copcar triple-parking in a one-way street to talk to another couple of officers in a double-parked car. After about 6 or seven cars had lined up behind me, there was no more space and cars were now blocking traffic in the big intersection a few hundred feet behind me. So, I thought, this would call for a sign for attention and an encouragement to stop chatting. I honked the horn at the cops. Apparently not so good an idea. One of the officers stepped out the car and walked towards me, and may I note, with his hand on his gun. ;)
Anyway, I lowered the window to hear him ask me in amazement:
"Did you just honk at us?"
"ehm...yes," I replied a bit intimidated, "was this inappropriate?"
"I'd say so," the policeman countered, "license and registration, please."
"I only honked because I was worried about the safety of the drivers further behind."
... I really don't remember much what else he or I said but I have to really watch out for my authority issues. At least when it involves people with guns and the power to put me in jail.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
people who make nut and ball jokes...
hilarious ;)
so, does this mean in the future, you will refrain from interrupting people's normal conversations with your "dumb" libido motivated comments?
;)
xxx
s.
---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
From: Dario
Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2005 15:33:38 -0500
>
www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
>
>check out rant V the first on the upper left
so, does this mean in the future, you will refrain from interrupting people's normal conversations with your "dumb" libido motivated comments?
;)
xxx
s.
---------- Original Message ----------------------------------
From: Dario
Date: Wed, 9 Mar 2005 15:33:38 -0500
>
www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
>
>check out rant V the first on the upper left
Monday, March 07, 2005
sunday...bloody sunday...
40 years ago - today...was what they call "Bloody Sunday" (wait..today is Monday...did I hear this newscast yesterday?)
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Anyway. here a quick memory refresh:
Monday marks the 40th anniversary of the infamous "Bloody Sunday" in Alabama, when hundreds of civil rights demonstrators -- black and white -- were brutally beaten as they attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala. The incident and the subsequent march led by the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. influenced the signing of the 1965 Voting Rights Act.
More info and the audio at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4525046
Saturday, March 05, 2005
America of extreme expression
an old highschool friend of dario's called the other day... one of the ones that didn't get killed, landed in prison, or went the wrong turn somewhere else. Every day I am upset about the way this school-system has failed (and still does) its students. But this is another story (which I might blog later).
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
I just wanted to talk about a curious cultural difference I completely forgot about until this old friend of ours called. He's actually a really nice guy. He must be about 28 now. Has three kids. The youngest is 6.
Anyway,...I am getting off the subject again... I'm such a fan of life...
So, as he ends his conversation with me he says,
"ok, then... Love you guys!"
to which I answered fumbling for words for a moment: "oooh,...we miss you, too".
I was embarrassed to have not been able to return the sentiment. This actually happens to me often. My very good girl-friends tell me this sometimes, and usually I manage to say it back but only because I feel put on a spot. And it's not that I don't feel deeply for my friends and that I wouldn't literally cut my hand off for them (is this an English phrase?...). What I mean is that I would give my life for my friends. ...Now, having said that I wonder ... why is it then so hard for me to tell them that I love them. Maybe it's because I just didn't have enough female presence in my teenage years (having grown up with my father and two brothers), maybe it's just me, ... but really I think, it's a cultural difference.
Austrians just don't do that. They don't tell each other this easily that they love each other. In fact, I don't even remember hearing this from my dad that often even though I know, how important we were to him. He actually refused to get divorced unless he gets custody of the kids.
I remember when I first came to the US, as an au-pair. I lived with this family in a suburb of San Diego and the woman came home the first night telling me that she was "starving to death". I was in shock. How could she say something like that, I wondered. How self-absorbed was this woman, with her house, her pool, and her 3 cars? Did she not know how many people on this planet were/are ACTUALLY starving to death? Obviously, today I use the word starve all the time...although, I must say, ...by the time I usually find time to get a bite to eat I really am "staarving". ;)
Other expressions, which would alienate a foreigner are:
"I HATE xyz." ( -> hate is a really strong word. I don't think I ever used it in the German language...except for maybe describing Hitler or the like.)
"fuck this" (fuck... in German everyday language? forget it...haven't heard this ever. It was very shocking to me when my au-pair host-mother used the word for the first time. ..I could understand...maybe the youngsters...but a grown, college-educated woman?? ...today, this is one of my favorite curse-words to vent with. ;)
"motherfucker" (this is probably the worst one. there is just no way you could say this in German... I mean LOOK AT IT!... I only use this word in two phrases:
"stupid mf." and "sexy mf.". The latter is hardly every used, for I am veeery picky when it comes to men.
As you can see, cursing isn't very popular in the German language. The words exist but only the mild ones are really used. And the more education you have the less you will curse but ..duh...that's pretty much the same here, isn't it? ..except for that "f" word. People looove the "f"-word no matter how high up they are.
Obviously, the above are just my personal observations. Maybe they are not true?
Maybe they just applied to my time growing up in Austria. Maybe things have changed.
Heck, they even have cheap talk-shows on TV there now. They also have more than 2 state-channels now and privately owned radio-stations (well, that's been for a while now). So, ... things have certainly changed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
