do you feel lucky?

A few days ago I read this terrible story in the NY Times about a 16-months-old child in Niger who just died of malnutrition. Nayla is 16 months old. :<
Just thinking about this makes me ache. As much as I wonder why I am so priviledged to be a mother who can give her children what they need, I am also grateful. This one thing I will never understand. The distribution of suffering. The one fight I'd ever pick with God. If I had to pick a fight, that is. ...That, and of course, the whole why does menstruation (and childbirth) have to be so f*in painful. ;)
but seriously, now..... here the letter I just send to as many friends I could fit in that field at the savethechildren website. Here it is to you:
------------------------------------
Guys,
If you have a few bucks to spare it would be really worth its value here. Donating takes 2 minutes and it can save lives.Too many children die. Too many people die. ...This world seems to never be in great shape....But at least we can make a little/big difference by sharing what we have (and how greatful I am for what I have).
www.savethechildren.org

sisi

It's hot in NYC = Open the hydrants

From my photoblog - Open Hydrant (Bronx)
newyork.blogphotography.com

how to ask this delicate question

So, I've been really trying to avoid asking my downstairs neighbor if she is pregnant even though she totally looks/looked like it. The problem is, the woman is also a heavy-set lady and I didn't want to risk asking her if she is pregnant, when in fact she is still trying to get rid of the pregnancy-fat from her first child. God knows, I sympathize. I've actually been asked if I am pregnant... many many months after giving birth..thank you very much. >:<
It was enough that I had just a few weeks ago asked another neighbor (and..coop-board president...sigh) if she is expecting, when in fact she wasn't. Nice.
Anyway, so I thought, let me just not ask and wait until she is really obviously pregnant...if she is..and then ask her.
Unfortunately, it turns out there is no graceful way out ...or at least, I am not graceful. I got in the elevator with my downstairs neighbor's husband this evening. He was carrying a big aluminium tray so I asked him if they had a barbeque today. No, he says, ...it was a babyshower...for his wife.
Oooh, so she really is expecting! I said
Ehm, yeah, he grunted, very much so. She's due next month. A response which made me realize I might as well have been asking if his wife was pregnant or just very fat. :<
I suck.

therapy on the horizon

so, Dario agreed (with clenching teeth) to a weekly therapy session. Of course, I would be the one who has to organize this but I can handle that. (Also, this will kill all of our savings...so, bye-bye vacation home.)
He still insists we could do this on our own ..we just need to communicate better....;) aaahh...the unrealistic idealism...

I just don't want to become a statistic. I don't want to become yet another divorce story. I saw this program the other day (on PBS "Secrets to a Long Relationship" or something like that) and one of those old ladies said something like: "People separate for the silliest reasons nowadays... a relationship is something you work on...you don't just bud out at the first sign of trouble..."

I also don't want to assimilate to the general trend of messing around. It is hard to keep this rather traditional view in this so unbelievably horny society. Sorry, I couldn't think of a better word than "horny" ... I wanted to say "liberal" but then that would mean I am not liberal, thus conservative, and I just can't bear to claim that. I also thought about describing this society as "open" but that's also not right, for there might be the "girls gone wild" and the south-beach excesses and all that sh*t but really...somebody shows a bare breast on TV and everybody freaks out.

It is weird that I am such a faithful person, for I truly don't believe in monogamy at all. I guess, my faithfulness has more to do with honesty, for that would mean I have to lie...which I (a) hate and (b) suck at.

maia figuring out numbers (or not)

me: maia, you can play 10 more minutes.
maia: no,...how about a little more....how about 6 months and 48.
me: 48?
maia: yes, 48:48
me: oookayy....

****************
maia has a new watch (some plastic thing somebody gave her):
me: what time is it maia darlin'?
maia: it's 10.245. 38:38
me: ...ehm..well, thank you....

husband refusing therapy

sh*t, I wish I had more time to think and blog...but since I don't, here
the letter I just wrote to Dario (I've been trying to convince him to go to a weekend therapy workshop with me, and he refuses with the excuse that he doesn't want to leave the girls behind) - so just in case,...this isn't a humorous blog-entry ..it is a stripped-bare entry:

I just would like to capture for posterity the fact that you refuse to go to therapy with me.
We cannot afford individual sessions and the combined workshops are only on the weekend.

You think all is fine (just like most men do - oblivious to the way their wife feels).
I am very close to moving into dangerous territory (i.e. opening my heart and my mind for new experiences outside of our marriage). I don't mean f*ing around, I mean opening my heart, which I have closed 10 years ago as to keep it with only you.

This is dangerous to our relationship but I have been unhappy for too long and you don't let me undertake my last attempt to improve this marriage -> therapy.
Therapy is a natural step in a long-term relationship. It is vital to this one and it is WAYYY over-due. I love you, truly ... but I am just so frustrated.
You don't hear me...you don't listen to me...you're negative, you're demanding, ...your communication sucks (i.e. you like to play the blame game, you are passive-aggressive...you name it... all detrimental to us and ultimately our family. I am aching inside as I am writing this...but I will not remain in an unhappy relationship forever.
We need to find a way to communicate better, understand each other better, respect each other, etc. etc. .... and we NEED a little help and some instructions.

You think I am doing this for fun? You think I want to sit in an intensive 2-day workshop and talk about relationships? This sucks as much for me as it sucks for you but I find it is inevitable and overdue.
I have faith in us. We have good material to work with. We love each other. We respect each other.
We love ourselves as a family with two wonderful little girls.

Going on a weekend trip with your wife doesn't mean you are leaving your children. Do you think it is easy for me to be separated from them overnight? I can't even sleep in the office (regardless how exhausted), just because it would mean separation. Something I can't say about you. How many times have you slept in the office? What about my trip to Cape Cod last summer? You were without your ladies for days.
And what about this summer? You seem to have no problem with the idea of me taking a vacation with the girls while you stay here. You seem to also be quite excited about any weekend trip you could be doing with John (once again, ...leaving your girls behind.)
So, please don't make them your excuse.
If anything...it will probably be much harder for me, for it will be the first time I am away since my 2-day trip to Cape Cod with Marta to wean Maia when she was 15 mo. old.
They will be in good hands. They are in these hands almost every day of the week.

love,
s.
PS: I know you try, and you are a sweet man, and I love you ...and you love me...and all...but it isn't enough in the long run, Dario. I am so frustrated with our daily life....we NEED a tune-up.
Besides, a weekend trip together will be good for the two of us....as a couple...(and I am not only talking about uninterrupted sex)..... it could be romantic.....that is if we don't rip each other's head off in the day's workshop (just kidding) ;)
xxxoxx

Imago Therapy Concepts

so, I'm reading this book "Getting the Love You Want" by this star therapist (H.Hendrix), which by the way is possibly the best example for the saying "don't judge a book by it's cover" -> I mean, by giving the book such a desperate title, they already lose the entire male readership, and I must tell you, if my mother (who is a family therapist) wouldn't have strongly recommended this book (and the therapy method it discusses), I would have never even taken it off the shelf.
So, I am going through quite some embarrassing maneuveurs trying to hide the title when I pull out the book in public. People might think I'm reading porn or something ...that's how secretive I take the book out of my bag...always careful to hide the cover.

Anyway, I just wanted to write down a few interesting concepts Hendrix brings up in his apparently very successful therapy method (Imago Relationship Therapy).
One, which I found most intriguing is the analysis that when we avoid our partners (with all kinds of excuses) we unconsciously avoid anxiety. But not just any kind of anxiety. Let me quote, for I am really bad at this whole paraphrasing sh*t:
"The other reason couples avoid intimacy is fear, specifically the fear of pain. On an unconscious level, many people react to their partners as if they were enemies. Any person - whether parent or partner or next-door neighbor - who is perceived by the old brain to be a source of need gratification and then appears to be withholding that gratification is cataloged by the old brain as a source of pain, and that raises the specter of death. If your partner does not nurture you and attend to your fundamental needs, a part of you fears that you will die, and it believes that your partner is the one who is allowing this to happen.
[...] In most cases the fear of the partner is unconscious. All that couples are aware of is a mild feeling of anxiety around each other and a desire to be with other people or to be involved in other activities." (p. 109)

He mentions that we have to train our brains to deal with change. When our relationships change and we are required to adapt and assume new roles we feel like we're losing our personality (i.e. we think we're dying). What we have to realize is that there are different stages in life, which sometimes require us to change our behaviors and habits. Change isn't necessarily negative (it is so subjective and temporary). Change means we are growing...

bitching just to bitch

so I've been sucked into Dario's house-hunting fever for a few weeks and only recently came back to my senses. what is it with me? this man ...or this relationship...has really had much more influence over my persona than I'd like to admit. our partners hold a not always tangible but quite effective power over us and vice versa, of course.
didn't I only a few months ago despise the idea of having a house? all the extra work, extra costs, and the whole commuting thing... I hate commuting...at least, when there is traffic...and let's face it ...there is always f'ing traffic. why am I so eager to leave the city to start my conservative life.... family with house, two kids and two cars.... I'm 30 years old...am I supposed to be doing this sh*t already? I'll be "old" in two seconds....
and what makes me think that Dario will suddenly change his habits and become super-husband ...or at least traditional-husband, who comes home after work to continue working on and around the house (as opposed to playing videogames online for the rest of the evening ..... can you tell I'm a bit sensitive on the subject at the moment).
It took Dario about a year to put up the curtain rods. The ceiling fan still isn't assembled (and we've moved in 2 years ago)....and just in general - any request I have takes him about 4-52 weeks (on average) to complete. And God forbid, I try to take things into my own hands. For example, the picture shelves I finally put up by the entrance wall. I had been waiting for months and so one day I said "f-it. I'm goin' in". The next day, I catch Dario reinstalling the shelves behind my back. Apparently, I didn't use the level or something.

anyway, I'm just bitching to bitch tonight.
I really just want to go out and get stoned (now that I FINALLY can -> not nursing, not pregnant, free free free:) but none of my friends are to be found. I was just gonna rollerblade around the block but then Dario decided he needed to finally go visit his mother (after many weeks of not doing so).....thus, I am now stuck at home....the usual.
Time to put Maia to sleep. She's a cute one, though. I ought to write down the things she says nowadays.
...later.

stereo-typical husband complaints and attempt to analyze

I'm not feeling well. I don't know how many times I said this sentence this evening but I sure know how many times it was ignored. Every single time.
I mean, what is it? Do I really need to walk in the door and say I am feeling bad and I ain't doing sh*t tonight. So, don't even come ask me? ... well, I suppose, I could make it a bit more diplomatic and still equally direct but WHY? Isn't it enough to say "I am not feeling well" (about 10-15 times)?
Anyway, it was ignored. No why-s, no what-do-you-need, no let-me-take-care-of-the-kids-tonight.

Is it that we are so used to hearing each other complain that we just tune it out... almost like a self-defense-mechanism? Complaining about our daily chores is about just as effective as putting on the guilt-trip or playing the blame-game. It's just destructive.
But I try to control such behavior ... and tonight was a legitimate request for help. Why do I have to spell it out? I don't want to do this.
I want the man on my side to be receptive enough...to be sensitive enough... to take charge....to ....ahhh what am I saying.... there is no perfect man. It's either this or single..... and I must say...single is sounding pretty good to me lately.
I am just getting to a new phase of being annoyed by unorganized, videogames-playing, laundry-producing, buying-crap-on-ebay (1968 MonteCarlo without seats!??!), never-listening-to-anything-I-say husband-behavior.

whatever happened to emancipation?

you know it's a shame that I get back online (after having been cut off) just when I've finally worked through the past few days of being really upset about the London bombings only to bitch about Beyonce's (or Destiny's Child's) new song in which the chorus goes something like this:

baby, let me bring me your slippers, make your dinner, take of your clothes,comb your hair and so much more... baby let me take care of you...my life is in your hands....and so much more..

What kind of bullshit role-modelling is this? Pop-stars need to realize the power they have over the minds of their young audiences.
... listen to me..I must be getting old.... (I still like 50-cent, though...I just ignore the cursing and focus on the sexy ;)

ok. have to get back to work.

It’s because you’re white

Today I got my daughter signed into a summer program of a pre-school Rosa had been trying to get her son into for months. They have been causing her great pain with all their strict policies and no-exceptions administration. Since the child care center is part of a CUNY college, they usually only accept students within their system. When Maia’s usual daycare center unexpectedly cancelled the summer session, I took a chance and gave them a call. On their website it said that in the summer months they’d maybe make an exception and take students from other CUNY colleges, if there is space.

Rosa is now totally pissed. She had been on the waiting list for a year or more. When she tried to register for a class at the school they were giving her hell because she couldn’t produce every transcript from every single school she ever went to. The fact that she graduated from Fordham (i.e. has transcripts and degree) didn't seem to matter. They wanted everything before they’d let her sign up for a class… and policy at the daycare center is that the child’s parent is a student at the college.

She was so mad that it took me only a phone call and a few easy documents that she swore they let me in because I’m white. And that comment just really pissed me off. First of all, I might look white but I don’t like to be thrown into a pot. I’m a half Arab raised Muslim in a country which is 98% Catholic (Austria), moved from there straight to the Bronx where I once again was the only outsider in a sea of Latinos. So, don’t tell me about discrimination or privilege. I know it when it hits me. I’ve been discriminated against many times. The reason I dyed my hair from blonde to black after moving here, was so that I could finally fit in better. And I can tell you, the way people treated me improved tremendously.
I hate fucking racism. I hate getting or not getting anything because of what I might look like. Of course, I’ve also experienced the other side of this story, where I had a strong feeling I got a break because I look/am Caucasian and the other person is, too.

This is a loaded argument and so it was for us fighting it out all evening but Rosa sounds more White-American (and she is Puerto Rican) than I do. She grew up here, went to Fordham, …her pronunciation is accent-free, …. As opposed to mine; People often think I am Latino (over the phone) because that’s the accent I picked up after coming here. I moved straight into the Bronx… and for a long time I sounded really freakin’ street. I can control this better now… mostly because I have broadened my circle of friends and am more aware of my diction but before I used to always fool people over the phone. I could see the surprise in their faces when they’d meet me after only having spoken to me on the phone.
This is what happened in this situation. I called them (the child care center) first. So, if anything, she might have given me a break because I sounded like a fellow-Latino…. But, truly, I don’t think any of this racial crap was an issue. Yes, I often am too idealistic but not everything is an issue of discrimination… especially not in New York City.
I am not trying to say there is no discrimination here. I have plenty of black friends who can sing me a song of this but you can’t throw this explanation at every situation which you find irrational or unfair. Sometimes it is just that. Irrational or unfair. Like my temporary admission to the summer session. The girl I spoke to seemed scatter-brained and somehow I got lucky. It is only the summer and they even say on their website that things are a bit more lenient during those sessions.
Rosa telling me this, was like telling a black person that they only got the job they applied for because they’re black (->Affirmative Action). That sh*t pisses me off, too. I just think, this just doesn’t apply anymore….OK, maybe elsewhere in this country ...but not in NYC…... or does it??

july 4th - van cortland park (bronx)

you know you're tired when...

know you're tired when...

- you put hairgel on your toothbrush instead of toothpaste (I now keep those tubes separate...who uses hairgel anymore, anyway.).

- you put two plates on the table because you've toasted two pieces of bread.

- you talk into your walkie-talkie without pressing the button and then wonder for like a minute or two why the other person doesn't respond to you.

- you can't respond to simple question with answers related to the topic:
e.g.: question: Are you done with the sub-pages of the webreport?
answer: yeah, I press this button over here.

..to be continued when have more sleep

where am I?

In case you've been wondering where the hell I've been ... I have been working on my photoblog(s). I'm only in the beginning phases but feel free to take a peek :)
http://newyork.blogphotography.com

Besides that, I've been working, and going to movies (well...really, ...only 1 movie since my last blog entry ...-> War of The Worlds ... very entertaining [if you can call the destruction of earth and all human life just that], adrenaline high at all times, and sickenigly but much needed happy ending. I dreamt all night of trying to evacuate my family from my building. Dario kept on going back because he forgot to put on pants or some sh*t like that and I kept on yelling at him...is this worth your potential death?)
I just got stuck in parentheses up there...so I wanted to get out of it before I sign off for today.

D and I are off today ... so we're hitting the MoMa. They're back in midtown. 20 bucks to enter...but as CUNY students (well, in posession of student i.d.s) we get in for free. :)

oh shoot, and I need to get some tranquilizers for the dog (July 4th is nearing...and he's already freaking out about all the pre-fireworks). I called the vet and they are making it mighty difficult for me to get just a few pills.... geez, it's easier to buy weed on the corner and get him to relax that way. But after last year's episode I'm not inclined towards any such adventures again.
Did I blog that? ...no, I wasn't even online, yet...was I? ... well, that's another story anyway.

movies movies movies

so, yesterday I "played hookie" (for the first time in a very very long time) to go see Batman Begins for the second time. I left work at 1:30 and met up with Rosa, who also ditched work for the day. We had seen the same movie the night before from the first row of the IMAX; something I definitely do not recommend; so we wanted to see it again, from a less neck-wrenching, pore-magnifying place in the theater. After Batman we snuck (sneak snuk snuck?) into Mr. and Mrs. Smith and that really wasn't what I've heard it would be. First of all they looked unreal as a couple. They are just too perfect looking and it is annoying ..and I love Angelina Jolie (Bratt Pitt isn't bad either). Maybe it was the plot...maybe the fact that they beat each other bloody as man and wife (and it is supposed to be funny)...or maybe just the fact that the characters seemed so 2-dimensional.Oh, well...maybe it is because I saw Batman beforehand...and M&M Smith just couldn't compare.
When I came home and finished putting the kids to bed I sat down for another movie (netflix, baby). In Good Company. My friends, who had already seen it months ago, told me they didn't like the movie. I, however, thought it was very well acted and well told. It also made me really appreciate my job. I don't know how I would survive this cut-throat corporate world out there, where people mean nothing. Well, I guess this is the sacrifice of capitalism. It's either business & profit or people. This is why I will never be rich.

tree-house hotel

Germany's first tree-house hotel (for about 280 bucks/night!?!). Nevertheless, preeetty cool. :)
http://www.kulturinsel.de/indexa.htm

superficial issues

So, yesterday- for the first time in many many many months - I saw a guy I could describe as somewhat hot. Dario, of course, thinks he is in constant competition with basically any well-built black man or anything remotely attractive. I really don't know why. It's not like I am particularily good looking. In fact, compared to most New York women I am quite a hunch-back, so my worries about D getting swept off his feet by a foxy lady should be exponentially higher than his fears of handsome men with any interests in my humble self.

I wonder, why it is that it makes us feel good when we are desired? Is it a socially conditioned thing?

Personally, I find men most attractive when I don't know them very well, yet. Of course, they have to first fulfill the initial criteria of fitting my attractive-male description, which most of them just don't. This is why Dario has absolutely no worries, for the only men I really find hot are one or two movie-stars, thus basically an illusion.

This blog entry is so bad, I want to put a stickie on my back with the note "former blonde but still dumb". And this joke was so bad I shouldn't be allowed to blog. But hey, everybody can have a bad blogging day, right? ... I am still getting used to the American keyboard and the English language...after 3 weeks on vacation in Austria.
What I really want to do is photograph, anyway... so I should probably get started on figuring out how to set up a photoblog.

reporting from Austria

so, here I am ...in Austria ...visiting my friends and family. it is beautiful here right now...beautiful and deceiving or so I wonder. Deceiving, for I am being lured in; so much that I actually answered a job posting in the newspaper yesterday. I really don`t know what my plan is. I have been thinking about moving back to Austria for a few years now but when people ask me about it I´d always refer to a non-specific near future (a couple of years). I love New York and I love the people I have met and become friends with there. One of my great passions is street photography and one of my main on-going projects are the streets of the Bronx. However, fact is that my children would have a better life here where I grew up. There are so many reasons .. or so I think.
So, just for the heck of it I looked at the newspaper classifieds with the intention to just get a rough idea what kind of jobs are out there in this little small a** state. Interestingly enough, the first ad I looked at seemed like the perfect job for me. Everything they listed on their list of job duties appeared exciting to me. So, I thought, let me apply. If I don´t do it now...when am I going to do it? Will I ever jump that hurdle? And if they take me..then I suppose that´s an omen.
So I wrote my 2-page application letter describing my unsual circumstances (applying while being on vacation; still got a home and job in NY, etc.), patched together my CV and off I went to personally hand in my application. It so happened that the contact person (the HR guy, I suppose) was still in the office when I arrived 10 minutes to 5 and I actually got a brief interview (in my shabby pants and my americanized -i.e. fresh - attitude). Before I left, I asked him what kind of person they had in mind for the job and he told me that I would be such a person (my resume covering almost all criteria) but they had just published the ad two days ago and were already flooded by applications. So, I´ll hear back from them.
Secretly, I am afraid of getting the position, for it would mean such a drastic change in my life, which I am not sure I am prepared for. Also, I love New York...and this decision would be solely for my children. Last but not least, I wouldn`t know how to tell my boss. When I left, he actually said to me "You better come back!",) well, let's see where life takes me (us).

Ironically, I just started reading Paul Auster`s "Oracle Night". It`s a story within a story within a story. Pretty cool. One of the stories (first tier down) is about a guy who radically changes his life from one day to the other. Actually...I`m going to read now, although it is past 2 a.m. here.

this european keyboard is driving me nuts. all the letters are switched around and if I wanna type an @ sign I have to press CTRL+ALT+Q .ugh.

and so the air-travel panicking begins

so, we're flying out to Austria tomorrow...and it seems like there are way too many plane-crash stories coming to my attention. Sunday I walked into the living room and got caught up in the beginning of Final Destination, which Carla had just switched to on the TV. If you know the movie it has one of the most intense scenes I have ever seen. It's just very freaggin' scary. In the beginning of the movie, the main character has a preminition/dream that the plane he is sitting on is going to crash...he basically lives the moment....thinks it's real..every detail...until he wakes up and finds himself sitting on the plane (still on the run-way). So, he panics and gets off, drags a couple of pissed-off people with him, and then the plane really explodes, only a moment after it takes off.
Then, yesterday... I hear this story on the news...of this girl in Coney Island who just didn't feel well being in the plane, made the pilot land, got off and then watched it crash. (I'm not sure if she watched it crash...but the point is ...the damn thing went down and everyone died).
http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/312535p-267388c.html

WHY? Why do I have to hear sh*t like this a day before I'm supposed to step on a plane, which I already hate by default. In addition to this all, I would never be the person who actually gets off the plane because I have a bad dream or I am scared it might crash. If I did that I'd never fly home again. I'm way too rational for that.
Anyway, in case I die, ... well...that would suck....cause my whole little family is with me...so I can't even write a quick will or anything. Which reminds me, I did by the Willmaker Pro (software to write your own will)...I should get that done sometime soon.... this is what you have to do when you have kids.
ok. enough about the scary stuff. I will now move on to "repression"-mode.

stress relief realization

There's one thing I've come to realize.... my best stress buster is to care less. Now, this is difficult, for you don't want to become someone who just doesn't care, so I should probably be more specific about this strategy.Care less about the little things. Care less about things said or done to you by others, regardless on how they've affected you personally (i.e. how much stress something would usually cause you). See the big picture. How does something relate to the big picture? Does it make sense to let something emotionally upset you if it isn't relevant to what is really important. If you can "let it go" let it go as quickly as you can. It's wasted energy to stress about something that has already happened. Just modify future behavior.Now, I should probably say that my realization of this stress relief strategy doesn't mean I can just pull it off like that. It takes constant self-reminding and inner peace doesn't just happen from one day to the other. But I did notice how well it works when I actually am able to apply this kind of trouble tackling. The tension just fades away and I refocus on what is more important in my life.

I just noticed...this is basically the essence of that quote I recently found (the serenity prayer?)...Accept the things I cannot change.