Embarrassment

Can someone die from embarrassment? I know that you can want to die from embarrassment, but I really do wonder if at some point it can all build up to a level that actual kills you. Today, I am positive I got close. Today is Friday, October 30, the day before Halloween. It also happens to be the day when I nearly expired from embarrassment and wished that a hole would open up in the Earth to suck me down so that I would be consumed by the hot liquid core of this planet. Honestly, that seemed preferable to my predicament. To really understand we must rewind a bit…

During Halloween 2013 and Halloween 2014 I worked at the Multnomah County Courthouse. A place that required suits or similarly professional clothes be worn every single day of the year. In the back of my mind I always thought it would be fun if there was one day per year we were allowed to wear whatever we wanted. And what better day than Halloween, I thought. Let all the workers dress up in costumes. Wouldn’t it be amazing to see a courtroom presided over by someone in a giant bee costume? Seemed like a solid idea. I was wrong.

In September I left the Courthouse for a job at Nike. Yes, the Nike. I now commute to Beaverton, OR

(not that far of a commute, actually) every day to the amazingly beautiful Nike World Headquarters. It’s actually a really stunning place (or “campus,” as they like to call it). I started when summer still lingered in Oregon and quickly found a favorite bench on which to eat lunch every day next to Lake Nike in the center of campus. I often arrive at work just as the sun is peaking over the horizon and once even arrived minutes after a small shower left an early morning rainbow hovering over the campus. It’s an incredible place, but it’s also taken a lot of adjustment on my part, particularly in regards to clothing. Nike is a very casual place. Everyone (and I do mean everyone, even the lawyers) wears jeans to work every day. Most people wear at least one article of Nike clothing and some are covered in the Swoosh from head to toe. I went from a work environment that demanded the highest levels of formality to a place where that level of professional attire instantly brands you a weirdo outsider, something I learned first-hand. (Let’s just say that my first day on the job was a bit of an eye opener and leave it at that.) Since I started I’ve worked hard and (mostly) managed to conform my wardrobe to Nike expectations, although I think I’m still a little more formally dressed than the multitudes (I still

haven’t come to work dressed like I’m about to head to the gym yet as several of my coworkers are wont to do).

On Friday, October 30 though, I managed to ruin all my hard work. Two weeks ago I received an email from the head of my department (which oversees the entirety of Nike Administration – basically anything that has to do with how Nike actually operates as a company) stating that Nike would be celebrating Halloween on October 30^th this year and that they would be holding their annual costume competition and trick-or-treating event. Each sub-department would need to pick a theme and have everyone dress accordingly. A competition would then be held to judge the costumes and a pizza party lunch provided to the winning group. Additionally, in the late afternoon, kids from Nike’s day care center would arrive for trick-or-treating throughout the campus. Upon reading this email I was moderately excited and started thinking up ways to get my group to agree to go as Captain Planet and the Planeteers (an awesome environmentalist cartoon from my childhood) since I already had a Planeteer costume from years past. Unfortunately, before I could even begin the draft of my email, I received an email that stated our group had decided (without my input evidently) that we would all dress up for sports from the summer Olympics. I should have known it would be something like this. I mean, this is Nike after all. Of course it would be sports related. *Rolling eyes*

A follow-up email soon arrived listing all the possible summer Olympic sports. Now, I am not a sporty person. I don’t enjoy playing most sports and I hate watching pretty much all sports (I will make occasional exceptions for watching in person, which is moderately more exciting, but that is limited to baseball and soccer). But swimming was on the list and I have been a swimmer since I was 9 years old, so I had the “costume” in the bag and wouldn’t have to purchase anything. It seemed like a no brainer.

Well, today was the day and I donned my costume before leaving for work. I wore my swim suit, hair in a messy bun, goggles around my neck, swim cap tucked into the top strap of my bathing suit, a pair of sweats, a fuzzy sweater to zip over my suit, a pair of flip flops on my feet and a towel slung around my neck. I was ready to go kick some butt in this contest. And then I arrived at work. Where everyone was dressed normally. Yes, they had all worn their regular clothes and planned to change later in the day since the competition judging wouldn’t occur until 2:00 pm. *Face, meet palm*

What makes this all that much worse was the fact that on the entire drive to work I felt uncomfortable. Even after two months working at Nike I feel discomfort wearing casual clothing to my work place. And I couldn’t help but ponder how horrible it would be if this was all some massive joke on me – something along the lines of Bridget Jones’ Diary or Legally Blond. But, I figured that wouldn’t actually be the case – I mean the email had come from the head of Admin herself. This couldn’t be a prank of some kind and I hadn’t misunderstood the order to dress up. Well, I figured wrong. I am stuck in my very own Tarts and Vicars nightmare. Thank god I’m not dressed in a skimpy bunny costume. Nope. Just a skimpy bathing suit instead.

The only thing that saved me from actually perishing at this point is the fact that I packed a shirt and undergarments in my purse in case I wanted to change before leaving for work. Upon realizing my faux pas I immediately hoofed it to the bathroom and at least lost the suit for a couple hours. But, I’m still stuck in my sweats, flip flops and other assorted accoutrements of my costume. So, now I’m hiding out in my cubicle, willing the universe to provide me some means of escape: a wormhole, a sudden ability to teleport, or even an earthquake would be most welcome.

Oh yeah, and to make things even more interesting, as soon as I sat at my desk my stomach decided to start rumbling and growling for no apparent reason. I’m fairly certain everyone in the building could hear it. So, while the earthquake itself hasn’t come to my rescue yet, it sure sounds like it has. Now, please excuse me while I hide under my desk until this atrocious and embarrassing day is over. And if Scotty is out there reading this…beam me up already. 

When Friday Let's You Down

We worked all the week and waited so long,
Yet Monday through Thursday dragged on and on.
Garfield taught me when I was a small child,
That Mondays are terrible and not worth your while.
And Tuesdays I know are simply the worst,
Not half through the week yet, but no longer the first.
On Wednesdays you throw your fists in the air,
For at noon you realize you're now half-way there.
But there's still so much time left in the week,
Before you will reach those free days you seek.
Thursday you manage because Friday is near,
So close you can taste it, soon we will cheer.
And then it is Friday, and at 5 you'll be free,
For Friday's half weekend, it's plain as can be.
And most of the time this system holds true,
Friday's the best day and you are renewed.
But at 8 in the morning 5 may be too far away,
Endless time stands still, a steep wall in our way.
What do you do in those terrible times?
When it feels like your sanity is placed on the line?
Today Friday is surely the worst of them all,
Excuse me while I sob under my desk in a ball.

Chloe-isms

Now that my demanding cat has had a taste of fame she has an unquenchable thirst for more. And what can I do but give in? (For the why, see previous post.) And so, here is some more advice Chloe offers to other cats and humans. This will give you a sense of my private hell... (private hell!)

Food dishes should always be filled to at least the three quarters mark. Any lower and it’s too hard to knock a kibble out to chase around the house.

Humans are so gullible. Want to bite them? Jump into their lap and roll over to expose your belly. They can’t resist the kitty belly. When they go in to give you a scratch…

BITE!

Vacuuming up my fur just makes me think you want more. Fine, if you like my fur that much, I’ll shed faster. You’re welcome.

I do know my name. I just don’t like you well enough to respond when you use it.

Occasionally puke for no reason. This will keep the human on her toes and concerned about your health. A concerned human is an easily duped human.

When other humans are around, cower whenever your human comes near. This will make the visiting humans believe that your human beats you. It’s hilarious. 

The most comfortable place to sleep with your human is on their face. Don’t settle for second best. Start off the night at the bottom of the bed to lull them into a false sense of security. When their breathing changes denoting REM sleep patterns, move and curl up in a ball on their face.

An open book in the human’s lap is the best place to sit.

Always sit or lay as close to the human’s face as possible. Then, when they sneeze, give them a dirty look. 

Humans should always remain seated in a location where their lap is easily accessible. To ensure they perform this necessary function to cat happiness, try the following: 1) follow them around everywhere, 2) when they are stopped and standing, stand at/on their feet and stare up at them while telepathically commanding them to sit down; 3) cry incessantly and scratch at their pant legs when they are seated in a location where the lap is inaccessible, such as at a desk, until they move to a location more beneficial to you.

Humans = food dish fillers & laps. They serve no other purpose in this world.

All bugs must be killed. However, the most terrible beast that walks this earth is the spider. Spiders deserve worse than death. They deserve torture. The best practice is to torture any spider found in your territory and then leave the horribly mangled body in a highly visible location as a warning to all other spiders. Ignore the human when it tells you to stop this brutal practice. It is necessary. Give the human the cold shoulder whenever the human interrupts this practice and “puts the spider out of its misery” before you have completed your task.

Glasses and sunglasses are chew toys.

Wisdom & Advice from a Bearcat

This may sound odd to a non-cat owner, but my life, in no small way, revolves around my cat. I'm not entirely sure why or how 6 pounds of fluff rules my house, but she absolutely does. For instance, tonight I was out at a friend's birthday celebration after work and at around 7:20 pm I decided it was about time to leave. This was in part because I was tired after a long day at work, but also because I knew Chloe was at home waiting for me and would undoubtedly make my life hell if I didn't get home in time to spend at least a couple hours awake with her. I caved to the fluff. But I think most cat owners out there will understand my predicament. Dog owners may conform their lives to their dog's schedule because they don't want their pup to pee or poo inside the house, but cat owners don't have that excuse. Instead, we conform to the demands of our cats out of both love and fear. The love is our desire to have our cats continue to love us - and let's not kid ourselves here, if we put one foot out of line it's going to be at least a few days of hell for us as we work to win back our cat's affections. And the fear is at the prospect of losing that love and having our cat treat us the way he or she treats the cable man (or my sister, in Chloe's case). That is something no cat owner wants. And cats are sneaky, they will find subtle, yet profound ways to pay you back for any perceived slight (my mother's cat Julie - Chloe's mother - goes on a hunger strike every time my Mom leaves on a trip). Cat owners know that it's easiest to simply keep the peace and do everything possible to make the cat happy because then we're sure to be closer to happiness ourselves.

Now, in order to ensure that this peace continues, it is important for the wise cat owner to get inside the head of his or her cat. Try to understand why the cat does what it does. Unfortunately, sometimes our feline friends are just completely inscrutable. There must be some disconnect on certain subjects between humans and felines, a bridge that simply cannot be crossed. In the hopes of helping you, my (potentially imaginary - is anyone reading this blog?) friends understand your own furry companions a little better, I have decided to start providing you with my insights into Chloe's psyche. Perhaps it can inspire you to better understand your cat or you will see something here that rings true in your own household. Look for posts in the future on "The Wisdom and Advice of Chloe the Bearcat."* For now, here is what Chloe says on the subject of biting...

“Ooooo! What is this new, shiny object? I’ll bite it to find out.” 

Advice: If it’s new, bite it.

“Ooooo! Is this my human’s hand coming to pet me? I’ll bite it to be sure.” 

Advice: If it’s there, bite it.

“I love belly rubs and head scratches! Biting your hand will get that message across.” 

Advice: If you like it, bite it.

*Please Note: The "Advice" Chloe offers here is to other cats. Unfortunately, when she found out I was writing this blog about her, she insisted that I include her advice for other cats on how to behave with "a cat's human." It feels demeaning and I'm not sure I want to send this information out into the world so that other people's cats start behaving like Chloe, but I'm once again caving to the fluff. See the second half of paragraph 1 as to why. And good luck to us all. 

Saying Good-bye (or Out with the Old and In with the New!)

Today was my last Thursday as a clerk at the Multnomah County Circuit Court. It's hard to believe. In fact, it's almost impossible to believe. Like so many of my peers, I graduated law school without a job. In fact, I was unemployed for about 9 months after graduation. And it was horrible. I've never been a super motivated person and I've always liked my downtime, so I assumed unemployment would be just a little too comfortable for me. But as it turns out, when you have nothing but downtime, it's really not such fun. All the things that you love to do when you've earned them at the end of a long day of work (pleasure reading, watching TV, going to the movies, hanging out with friends, even quilting) are just not as much fun when that is all you do every day. I hated unemployment and actually worked pretty hard to try to rectify that situation. In January 2013, having decided I needed more practical experience on my resume, I began volunteering at the Courthouse in downtown Portland. Well, two months later I was hired as a clerk and that's where I've been working ever since.

Now, the clerk job was a pretty good gig and I had some very good times. I made some amazing friends, gained some incredible experience, and began writing weekly Thursday Clerk Lunch reminder emails that have led to a lot of the posts you've read here. But having been doing this job for about 2.5 years now, I've gotten a bit bored. I've known for a while that it was time to move on and have been looking for a new job since last fall. I took a brief hiatus from the job search in the early months of this year when my big sister was diagnosed with breast cancer, but picked the search back up again this summer after she officially kicked cancer's a**. To my astonishment and great joy, I received a job offer a few weeks ago from Nike. The world headquarters of Nike is in Beaverton, OR, right next to Portland, and that is where I will be working from now on. I am so excited and beyond ready for this next step. It's time to move on. But that does mean leaving some incredible friends behind.

Today marked my very last Thursday Clerk Lunch with all my friends at the Courthouse. Below is the poem I wrote for them and that was sent out in my last reminder email as a final good-bye.

How do you expect me to say good-bye to friends held so very dear,
To people I've come to greatly respect, this amazing sea of peers?
For the time has come for me to leave, to go on a separate way,
A new path to travel, a new road to walk, for all the coming days.
Perhaps the Bard said it best, "parting is such sweet sorrow,"
But Romeo and Juliet were fools who didn't live to see tomorrow.
Let's look instead to Winnie the Pooh, that silly tub of lard,
"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
Thank you all for the time we've spent together here at work,
You've made the time pass so fast these two years I've been a clerk.

Now, wish me luck as I head off to this new adventure! I can't wait to see what it brings.

Zombie Apocalypse

Anybody who knows me knows that I am a big fan of zombies. I don't know when my interest/fascination/obsession with zombies (books, movies, 5K runs, etc.) started (sometime in college, I think), but it is one that has endured for many years. In fact, my final senior English seminar paper in college was on the Resident Evil film series and how it's an evolving allegory for our societal fears today. (I'm still not sure how I managed to get that topic past my professor, but I had a great time watching those movies over and over again in preparation for writing.) I continue to read and watch any new zombie books and films that come out (I highly recommend reading Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion and World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks) and enjoy them all immensely (some more than others, of course). It should come as no surprise to learn then that I've also spent an inordinate amount of time planning exactly what I will (note: will, not would) do when the zombie apocalypse finally occurs.  What weapons for protection from the walking dead and humans I will acquire, whether to stay in cities or head for the country-side, how to meet up with my family and which of my family members I think would actually survive long enough for me to meet up with them (I'm sorry to say that

some of my siblings have no hope of making it). I've also discussed this in depth with two of my sisters and taken components of their plans and adapted them to my own while also scoffing at what are clearly some very foolish ideas on how to survive. I'm pretty sure that I now have a workable plan that will ensure my survival in the face of the zombie apocalypse, be they fast or slow zombies. (And don't worry, Mom & Dad, I've got a plan to get to you both and protect you from the undead hordes.)

Now, knowing all of this, it also can't come as a surprise to learn that zombies are quite frequently on my mind. (To have an adequate zombie apocalypse plan you must be constantly evolving that plan according to the changes of society, geography, family, etc. - every good zombie apocalypse preparer knows this.) And so, today I offer to you all a zombie apocalypse poem for your enjoyment. I hope it inspires all of you to become more well read (and well watched) on the subject and convinces you all to start formulating your own survival plan. Good luck!

The end of all is drawing near,

We gather close out of fear.

Cling together, don't let go,

Keep your breathing nice and slow.

Don't make a sound, not one peep,

In the shadows they now creep.

Use your head to stay alive,

Before you run, count to five.

To make sure the coast is clear,

Take a pause, what do you hear?

A slow shuffle, a dragging foot,

Moans of hunger, now take a look,

Around the corner, what do you see?

Too many horrors, it's time to flee!

Do you know now where to run,

Where safety lies under the sun?

Did you make a plan in case,

You were to witness the end of days?

I hope you gave it some good thought,

As the man too slow is surely caught.

They called me a fool and laughed in my face,

But who's laughing now as the zombies give chase?

Blogs in the Family

I come from a family of bloggers. And I have no one to blame but myself. Our collective introduction to the world of blogging began when I travelled to SE Asia in 2010. Prior to that time I don’t think anyone in my family had ever given much thought to even reading someone’s blog and certainly no thought to keeping a blog themselves. But when I decided to travel alone half a world away from home, friends, and family to live in SE Asia for three months after my first year of law school this all changed. We’ve always been a tightknit clan and the prospect of being largely out of communication for that entire period of time was intolerable (particularly to my parents – I am their youngest and favorite child, after all). At first we considered merely having me send out periodic email updates to everyone, but considering the large number of people I would need to keep in touch with (I am one of six siblings and lets not even start on the size of the extended fam) this seemed too impractical for words. And so, in a moment of genius (I have quite a few of these), I suggested that I keep a blog. This would allow me to write one update on me and my life while travelling that everyone could read when and where they wanted and I wouldn’t require me to spend my entire three months abroad simply answering emails. Thus was born Adventures of a Bookworm Abroad, my first blog.

Prior to that initial blogging experience I had never really considered whether or not I enjoyed writing. I wrote all the time for school, of course; but writing research papers or essays on novels is in no way similar to creative or journal writing. I found in very short order that I, in fact, loved keeping a blog. Years of excessive (according to my mother) reading had given me a decent command of the English language and I found that I enjoyed finding my own voice and describing my travelling adventures for friends and family to (hopefully) enjoy.

Then I returned home to the US and fell into a funk. It can be really difficult to go from life on the road to the more sedentary pace of “real life.” Combine that with the fact that I had been living in third world countries for three months, gaining exposure for the first time to the plight of so many people around the world who live in abject poverty, and then came back to the rampant consumerism of the United States and it’s no wonder that I was a teensy bit depressed upon my return. It took me about six months or so before I returned to normal and during that time I was not blogging. My Bookworm Abroad blog had served its purpose, chronicling my adventures away from home and now that I had returned to my regular life there seemed to be nothing more to say. Then, one day, while sitting in a ridiculously boring constitutional law class, I had an idea for a blog post and my second blog was born: Thoughts of a Bookworm at Home. I don’t write nearly as often as I should, but I try to keep up a regular stream of posts consisting of random thoughts, occasional diatribes, and, quite frequently, poetry.

My family seemed genuinely pleased that I returned to my blogging and encouraged my efforts. And only a few months later my mom told me that she had decided to start a blog as well. This blog would be a blog for herself and her quilting compatriots (of which I am a member). My mother is an incredible woman who knows how to do every art and craft. Literally. You would have great trouble finding a type of art or craft that my mother does not know how to do. She has done it all: book making, paper making, stamp carving, painting (oil, watercolor, acrylics), drawing (pencil, color pencil, charcoal, pastels), sculpture, knitting, crocheting, doll making, needle felting, mixed media art, embroidery, quilting, etc. In the past few years, however, she has focused her attention largely on quilting. My mom has collected a group of friends and family, all fellow quilters, and created a group that my dad calls “The Stix Chix” (Stix = Sticks, because we’re too small to be a club, hehehe). Well, my mom decided that a blog was the perfect way to keep all the Six Chix connected as more and more of us were moving away from our home base of Amador County, California. Her blog was a rousing success, at least in our small circle, but my mom soon outstripped its limited parameters of knitting and quilting topics. She liked writing so much that she decided to start a second blog for herself – Moser Good Eats – a blog devoted to my parents’ food adventures and travels. Her blogs are now several years old and she remains as enthusiastic as the day she began.

And so, within the span of two years, there were four blogs between two of the Moser women. For years we held to this number and my mother and I have managed to restrain ourselves from starting any more blogs (thank goodness), but now that number has increased by one. My sister, Jana, has started her own blog – Here, Eat These Berries. Following a major health issue diagnosis (I’ll let you read more about that in her own words in her first blog post), my mom began encouraging Jana to express herself via writing by starting either a private journal or a blog. For a long time Jana resisted. In fact, through her initial treatment and recovery, over a seven month period, Jana resisted. But finally, my mom won (as she always does) and Jana started her blog just under one week ago. And even after so short of time, it’s clear that Jana is an addict. A total blogging addict.

Since that first blog post, Jana has written about two posts per day, she calls me as soon as she posts to tell me to read (even at 7:00 on a Saturday), she insists I comment at least once per post, she spends hours staging pictures and she’s obsessed with gaining readers. She’s crazy! But she’s also really funny and insightful. I can hear her voice and picture her mannerisms in every word on the page and she often makes me laugh out loud. In fact, I think my sister may be better at this blogging thing than I am. And I’m absolutely sure that it won’t be long before she outstrips me in readership.

As the tally now stands there are five blogs run by three Moser women. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before more of the family joins us in the blogosphere. I wonder what my dad is doing right now…

Adventure Awaits

You claim you're very hurt,
You clench you side in pain.
You sneak a peek at faces all around,
Seeking sympathy in vain.

For I know all your tricks,
You use to get your way,
To gain freedom from the drudgery,
And escape this hellish day.

Of course a bargain could be struck,
If you're willing to make a deal,
Take me with you out of here,
And I swear my lips are sealed.

For adventure awaits beyond these walls,
It's calling out my name.
Singing a lovely siren's song,
Of glory, fortune and great fame.

I ask you now, what will you choose,
What will you decide to do?
Stay here, cooped up with no hint of fun,
Or bravery, courage and derring-do?

No? I knew you'd see the light of day,
Now just follow where I lead,
And grab your stomach one more time,
For you are sick, it's clear to see.

Balance

A wish in the Winter for sunshine to come
An end to the endless cloudy days and the unceasing rain, a steady drum, drum, drum.
The beat of necessary water coming down.
A call for more than just a single beam of light midday
That pierces the clouds for just a moment - a single perfect moment - yet all too soon fades away.
Leaving us once more in enclosing darkness with that one sound
                        Drip, drip, drip.
Stay steady through the dark days of chill and frost
Warm hands and feet by the fire and close your eyes to imagine the touch of flames is Summer's touch lost.
Lost to the weight of laden charcoal skies.
For soon wish fulfillment, Summer comes, bypassing Spring
No time for the gentle return of sun, heat and azure skies, the awakening of flora and fauna an abrupt thing.
And with the advent of these halcyon days our hearts cry
                       Summer, Summer, Summer.
The feelings of joy and hope surge as Summer takes further hold
Days spent glorying in the beauty of the world, the warmth chasing out the bone deep grip of Winter's cold.
But all too soon verdant hillsides fade away.
We look to the skies, skies we cursed for their unending clouds
Have you bowed to our furious cries? The unwise demands we only now see nary a soul should have said aloud?
Worry looms and we look to the horizon, hoping it will say
                        Rain, rain, rain.
It is only in the loss, the flip of the coin, that we realize the folly of what was said
Now the cry rises against this Summer plague, the scorching heat and tormentingly vast, empty skies overhead.
The Earth grows parched as Summer's fist tightens.
Wait, wait, wait, for soon that steady drum will return, a furious beat sorely missed
The world turns again and Summer fades away. We turn our faces to the sky for that first gentle drop, a sweet kiss.
Winter returns. Beloved Winter. Our minds now enlightened
                        Balance.

A Strange Fascination

Sometimes my reminder emails to my fellow clerks about our weekly lunches can get a little, well, interesting. Here's a recent example:

Today is the day. It's also a day. That day being Thursday, July 16, 2015. At least, that's the day I'm told it is. I suppose we could try to use a different calendaring system and call it something else altogether. But for purposes of clarity, we'll go with what the majority of the world calls it. That sounds right.

So, to start at the beginning...today is the day. The day for Thursday Clerk Lunch. Of course, if we did call today something other than Thursday, July 16, 2015 would we still hold this lunch? I mean it is called "Thursday Clerk Lunch," so if it's not "Thursday" maybe it can't happen at all. Huh. Something to consider. But we've decided to keep calling today Thursday, so once again that isn't something that will affect us today.

To the beginning again...today is the day for Thursday Clerk Lunch. Held at the usual place at the usual time. Don't know what those are? Think back to last Thursday. Or was it last Thursday? Was it called something else? And if it was called something else, did we even have lunch that day??? Oh wow. Now I'm totally confused. So confused I might not even know where lunch is being held or when it's being held or if it's being held at all. So, basically, I've turned into all of you guys. Is there anyone out there who can tell me what the heck is going on??? Maybe we need some kind of reminder system so that I don't get all discombobulated like this. That seems like a good idea.

And this will be our last foray back to the beginning...today is the day for something. We don't know what it is, we don't know where it's happening, we don't know when it's happening and, at this point, we're not even 100% sure it is happening because it's possible that none of us exist. Good luck.

For those of you who are now feeling completely adrift and want to try to put your lives back together, here is a little something for you to think on...

What do you do when you're bored? I'm not talking about those times when you're bored and you just sit around staring at the ground or spinning in circles in your desk chair. I'm talking about those times when you're bored, but your brain wants to be doing something and you just want to scream your frustration out. What do you do then? Do you try to turn off your brain? Do you work on a crossword puzzle? Do you actually *shudder* work? I think at this point in our lives we have probably all come up with ways to combat this disastrous occurrence and I will now offer mine as an option for all of you. When extremely bored, but intellectually stimulated I research serial killers. Is this strange? I don't know why, but during slow times at school or during slow times at work I tend to find myself online and reading about different serial killers in US history. These stories just fascinate me. And whenever one of the major news outlets features a retrospective on the worst killers of the '60s or worst serial killers of all times, I just have to read it.

I've been told a time or two that this is a very strange obsession. And I haven't ever been able to pinpoint why I am so fascinated, but there's no denying that I am. It just never ceases to amaze me that people can be so evil, that something in their minds can be so broken that they perpetrate these horrendous crimes on their fellow men ("men" being a term for mankind, not simply the male of the species, since a lot of serial killer victims seem to be women). And the question of why is so rarely answered. And while in some cases there were seemingly no clues that would have led anyone to suspect what was going to happen (looking at you, Ted Bundy, the guy everyone described as so normal), there were others who were brazen in their status.

And that leads me to my most recent interesting killer - Jim Jones of Jonestown fame. The man who created a cult ("religion") and then convinced over 900 people (which includes hundreds of children) to commit mass suicide. How on earth did he gain so many followers? I can understand how people might have followed him in the beginning. He did get his start in the faith healing sects of Christianity (and I've always felt that those people seemed more susceptible to religious fervor, which can quickly get out of hand and seems to lead you down some very strange paths), but reading about him makes it clear that he went off the rails in his "teachings" very quickly. But not only did he gain a  huge following, he managed to convince all those people to kill themselves by drinking cyanide laced kool aid. What a terrible way to go! I mean, no method of suicide sounds particularly appealing to me (thank goodness), but if I did have to go, I would not want to go by cyanide (if Agatha Christie has taught me anything, it's that cyanide poisoning is not a pleasant way to die). And did you know that this is where the phrase "don't drink the kool aid" came from? That blew my mind. I had absolutely no ideas as to it's origin. (A recent poll shows that I was alone in my ignorance and everyone knew where that phrase came from. In my defense, I had always just assumed that it was proof that my detestation of kool aid was spot on.) But back to the question of why, the question that keeps me reading about these terrible crimes. Why did Jones do this? Well, there is ample evidence to show that this guy was more than a little off his rocker. But in this particular case the bigger question for me is why did all those people follow him? Why did they go along with his crazy plans? How could parents willingly murder their children, some of them babies? It just boggles the mind. And did any of them really believe that they would all be reborn in a paradise on a distant planet? It's hard to believe that so many people went along with that man to the point of actual death.

My fascination with these  and similar atrocities has also extended into my reading (books, not just internet articles) for years. I've often heard the refrain from friends and family, "But don't you get tired of reading about the Nazis." The answer to that is, of course, yes. I don't particularly enjoy reading about the Holocaust and similar instances of genocide, but I also think that it's important to read about them. To bear witness for the people who died and those who survived. To remind yourself that you always need to think critically about what is going on in society and around you. Because if history has taught us anything, it's that it is very easy for humans to get swept up in a mass fervor, be it religious, patriotic, or idealistic (with some very horrible ideals, to be sure). We all need to be able to think for ourselves and critically examine where we are being led as both an individual and as a society and whether that is a road we want to travel down. For all that we are a modern society and the world fully ensconced in the 21st century (as if that is some beacon of enlightenment), these atrocities still happen today. And it's up to us to educate ourselves about the past so that we can hopefully learn from those mistakes and ensure they do not happen in the future.

Of course, that very legitimate reason for reading about history still doesn't explain my fascination with serial killers. Hmmm...maybe we'll just say I'm a bit morbid and leave it there. It's probably best not to delve too deeply into the psyche of someone obsessed with serial killers. ;)

For those of you who are looking for some interesting books on horrors around the world, take a look below...

World War II-

1. "In the Garden of Beasts" by Erik Larson - An incredible book about the American ambassador and his family in Berlin during Hitler's rise to power. If you want a history that touches how the German population allowed itself to be slowly led into committing the atrocities of the Holocaust, this is the book for you. A truly fascinating read that almost feels like fiction.

2. "The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves, and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History" by Robert M. Edsel - Sometimes you need an uplifting story and this tale about artists, art restorers, and museum curators coming together to protect and rescue Europe's stolen art is a fantastic read.

3. "Free to Die for Their Country: The Story of the Japanese American Draft Resisters in World War II" by Eric Muller - WWII wasn't all about the Nazis. The US did some pretty horrible things as well. After detaining Japanese Americans at camps around the US for years we then drafted some of those young men into our military. These are stories of some of the young men who resisted that draft.

4. "Farewell to Manzanar: A True Story of Japanese American Experience During and After the World War II Internment" by Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston - A first hand account of a young girl growing up in the US Japanese Internment camps.

5. "No-No Boy" by John Okada - Another fascinating book about a Japanese American boy in the US internment camps.

6. "Daniel's Story" by Carol Matas - This was one of my first introductions to the Holocaust in 7th grade. A great book that introduces young kids to the subject.

7. "Night" by Elie Wiesel - I hope that many of you have read this book. The firsthand account of a survivor of the concentration camps. A short book, but one that will stay with you for a very long time.

8. "Road to Valour: Gino Bartali: Tour de France Legend and Italy's Secret World War Two Hero" by Aili McConnon - Enough of a sports book that it will satisfy the masses, but the truly amazing story here is how this cycling legend acted as courier for false documents to help get Jews out of Italy during WWII.

Child Soldiers-

1. "A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier" by Ishmael Beah - Beautifully written and an astounding first hand account of the life of a young boy in Sierra Leone who was forced to become a child soldier. (Makes for a great book club read. Can you guess whose choice it was for my book club?)

Cambodia's Khmer Rouge-

1. "First They Killed My Father" by Loung Ung - A book that is sure to break your heart. Pol Pot led the Khmer Rouge in a genocide against the people of Cambodia. This is the story Loung Ung and her family's evacuation from Phnom Penh and subsequent move from town to town as slowly she loses members of her family.

The World-

1. "Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide" by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn - There are many sad tales about oppressed women in this book, to be sure. But the ultimate message is uplifting. The book focuses on how we can help women around the world break free of oppression and better their lives, sometimes through something as simple as easy access to fresh water for their families so young girls don't have to leave school.

Anticipation

I have a serious question. What is the best policy when it comes to anticipation? If you are anticipating a big trip, a potential job offer, a visit from friends or family, or some other event in your life, what is the best policy? Should you try to tone down your anticipation so that you won't be disappointed if the event doesn't live up to your expectations or should you just let yourself go and be excited beyond belief? And is it even possible to choose? Is the idea of this choice to tamp down our anticipation really just a fallacy we create in our minds? I'm really not sure.

In recent months I was rejected from a job I really wanted. I knew it was a competitive position and that hundreds of people had applied. But I also knew (wrongly, I suppose) that I was perfect for the job. So, when I received an opportunity to interview I was extremely excited, but I also kind of expected it. (I know that sounds a little cocky, but my resume seriously fit the job description and I had a couple friends on the inside talking me up.) Now, I tried to temper my excitement and expectations and thought I did a pretty good job of it. In fact, I even told myself that I had no expectations of really getting the job. But then came the dreaded rejection letter and I was flummoxed and somewhat heartbroken. No matter how much I had told myself I tamped down my anticipation, I was still taken by surprise. I couldn't tone down my anticipation and I felt the effect of underwhelmed expectations that we've all felt from time to time.

But maybe that was just a one time situation. Are there situations in which you can actually tone down your anticipation of an event such that you won't feel that epic disappointment if things don't go your way or live up to your expectations? Prior to this job rejection fiasco I would have answered immediately in the affirmative. I have always lived my life tamping down on the negative. When I feel seriously stressed, out of sorts, out of control, unhappy, or any other negative emotions my first instinct is to always tamp them down. Just shove those feelings into a little ball in the bottom of my stomach and hope that eventually they will all go away and I just won't have to deal with them while I put on a happy (or at least fairly neutral) face to the world. (This, of course, is not to say that I am not occasionally grumpy or irritated. I think we all know I get into those moods from time to time, particularly, according to my family, when I'm hungry.) And since anticipation can so easily lead to disappointment, I've tried to tamp down on my anticipation as much as possible as well. Even when it's something that I just know will be wonderful, I try to bring myself down to earth just in case. I've always thought I was successful, but now, after my recent experience, I've been wondering about whether I've been successful at it at all a great deal.

And I suppose this all ultimately leads to the question of whether people even should temper their anticipation (assuming it's possible). There is, of course, the classic argument that if you don't have high expectations, then you won't ever really be disappointed. But I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing. Yes, if your expectations are dashed it can bring you to the lowest of lows, but if your expectations are met and all that anticipation was for a good reason, then you will reach the highest of highs. Nothing feels quite as sweet as that moment when everything you anticipated comes to fruition. Like those events where you have a perfect moment on a trip you've been waiting for for so long - that moment of peace and fulfillment when you reach the top of the trail after a long hike and the view is just as beautiful and soul changing as you could have ever hoped - or when a visit with your family goes just as you wanted full of laughter, love, and joy. Would those feelings be as good if you had spent all the time leading up to them tamping down your anticipation of the event, essentially expecting the worst (or at least something a little bad)? Isn't it better to maybe just let yourself go, expecting the best out of life and out of everything that's coming? Sure, you'll be disappointed from time to time and that will never feel good, but when those perfect moments occur, they are just all the sweeter.

I don't know that there's any one answer or if one option is a healthier outlook for life than the other. I guess, for myself, I would like to move in a direction of positivity. Anticipating all the good things that will come my way in life and that everything will turn out just the way I imagined. And considering the other method didn't work so well for me, it seems like a solid plan going forward. Of course, this all leads to the issue of negative expectations and whether you should hope for the best in those situations, but that's a conversation for another day.

The Movie

Last night I attended a showing of Romancing the Stone at OMSI (the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry - one of the best things about living in Portland). The film was shown as part of the Reel Science series, which shows older films and provides a 30 minute science lecture linked to the film beforehand and a Q&A session after. OMSI has shown some of my favorite movies in this series including: Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark (lecture on how Indy was just about the worst archaeologist ever), The Princess Bride (with a fencing demonstration by the Mexican National Fencing Team), Jaws (on sharks, what else?), Jurassic Park (dinos), Labyrinth (puppeteering), and more! Well, this month's film was Romancing the Stone, an 80s classic with Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner and Danny Devito. It has been a family favorite for years along with the sequel Jewel of the Nile. If you haven't seen them, I highly recommend them both. The science lecture for this film focused on geology and gems by a representative from the Oregon Department of Geology and Mineral Industries. I invited my entire family to the event with me, but, alas, they all decided travelling hundreds of miles to see a movie on the big screen that came out more than 30 years ago was not worth it. I'm not going to lie, that hurt. And so to that, I saw the following....

Last night I went out to see,
A movie very familiar to me,
A remnant from my childhood,
A family favorite that's oh, so good.
Adventure, daring, and great escapades,
A dash of romance and villains to evade.
I laughed until my sides both ached,
And tears of hilarity streamed down my face.
But the best part were the memories,
That watching it brought back to me.
Those feelings of home, family and friends,
Surrounded me now as they did back then.
Though my family is all far, far away,
And I likely won't see them for many a day,
I felt their presence clear as can be,
As I watched that old favorite movie.
And now the only thing left to do,
Is tell them I saw it and let them all stew,
In their jealousy of little old me,
As I laugh in the corner: tee hee hee hee.


Isn't family a glorious thing?

Film Adaptations

I love to read. I don't think that's a big secret. I will read anything and everything, I own (conservatively) thousands of books, and the books that I love I am willing to read over and over again. With that being said, it might take some of you by surprise to learn that I love movie adaptations of books, even when they diverge from the source material. I know many of you would assume I'm a stickler for faithful adaptations, but I really don't mind when filmmakers take some artistic liberties. The reason I bring all this up is that last week I went to a Thursday night showing of Avengers: Age of Ultron with two friends. I've always enjoyed the Marvel movies, finding them harmless and entertaining fun. And I'm a big fan of Joss Whedon (if you haven't seen the glory that is Firefly, then you are seriously missing out), so I was excited going into the film. The three of us laughed at the quips, gasped when shocked and ooohed at some of the amazing spectacle (mainly James Spader's parts 'cause that man's voice is amazing, even if he just read the phone book it would sound impressive). When we exited the theater I immediately turned to my pals and said "that was awesome, I really liked it." I was met with two blank looks and "I didn't like it at all, they totally screwed up the story!" Wait. What? We just watched a two and a half hour movie and throughout the entire thing the two of them were reacting exactly as they should (with seeming enjoyment and captivation) and now they come out and say they don't like it?? I was completely flummoxed. And then I made a huge mistake (insert picture of Gob Bluth here). I asked them why. The next 20 or so minutes of my life (wasted and never to be returned) was spent listening to them talk about the myriad ways the film differed from the comic books. I don't want to include any spoilers here, so I won't go into them in detail. Suffice it to say, the list was long and tediously specific.

Now, my real problem with this entire event wasn't so much our disagreement about liking or not liking the movie because I fully appreciate that people can have different tastes in films (although, let's be serious here, I will judge you if you don't like what I like and it will most likely impact our friendship in profound ways), but rather that they had clearly enjoyed the film while watching it and their belief that it was "bad" stemmed entirely from the fact that it wasn't a live action carbon copy depiction of the source material. But really, how can it and why should it be? The simple truth of the matter is that no matter what the filmmakers do, a film adaptation of a book will never be 100% what you pictured when you read it. And there are a couple of big reasons: 1) unless you want to read a book that describes everything in excruciatingly precise detail (I'm looking at you George R.R. Martin, Robert Jordan, James Joyce, J R.R. Tolkein in Return of the King, etc.) a lot of what you visualize when you read is actually detail your brain fills in for you, not something you explicitly read and, therefore, unless you're making the film yourself, it's not going to come out a 100% match to what you imagined; 2) a truly faithful adaptation of even a 100 page novella (assuming it's not entirely cerebrally set) would probably translate to multiple hours of film, so a full length novel would be waaaaaaay too long a movie; 3) no matter what you do, the way an actor says or emphasizes certain words, the way he/she moves, the setting, the clothes, everything that makes a movie a movie is an interpretation of the book and it's probably not going to be what you pictured in your head while reading. And that's the entire point of both books and film! They are never going to mean the same thing to different people. That's why you have English literature majors in college (and I can say this with authority as I majored in English lit). English majors spend their entire academic career arguing over the meaning of a book - basically arguing over different interpretations of the same material. And guess what...they are all correct (some - me - more than others, of course). 

But what does this all have to do with my original point, you ask? Well, when you watch a film adaption of a book it is ridiculous to say that you don't like it simply based on the fact that it diverges from the source material or what you imagined. That is a ridiculous argument and I won't respond to it (insert picture of Lucille Bluth here). The point that I've been trying to drive home (hopefully successfully) is that a film adaption by necessity must diverge from the source material. It's not possible to do anything else. Every visual adaptation is an interpretation and it's highly unlikely that it will ever be 100% on point with what you expected/visualized. And really, why should you limit yourself? Why should you be so closed off from other ideas about the material? Why is your vision of the material more valid than any other? One of my favorite books of all time is Pride and Prejudice (original, I know) and I have loved many adaptations of the film. I love the BBC version with Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle and I love the version with Keira Knightley. These are two wildly divergent interpretations and I love them both equally because they draw out and emphasize different messages within the book. They make me think about a book that I've read dozens of times in new and intriguing ways, making the material fresh and exciting. I think that in order to appreciate film adaptations of books  you need to be open to varying interpretations. This is a good life skill for both watching movies and reading books and to help you achieve this skill here's a helpful way to do so: divorce the source material from the film adaptation in your mind. Don't think of the film as the book in live action, that way lies madness. Rather, think of the film as a completely different entity that has nothing whatsoever to your beloved book. If they have nothing to do with each other, then it's a-okay if they are very different.

And now let's bring this whole thing home - my movie night with my (lame?) friends. Their arguments particularly irked me due to the nature of comic books. To be fair, I'm not a devoted reader of comics, but I've certainly read my share. And I've read enough to know that they are constantly changing the storyline - alternate universes, reboots, new timelines, characters suddenly switching genders, etc. All of these appear regularly in comic books to the extent that it's nearly impossible to point to a single cohesive storyline for any one character. So really, when you're complaining about a film not following the source material, how on earth can you complain about a comic book movie? There are so many storylines to choose from! And yes, maybe the film diverges from all the written storylines, but how is that any different than a new writer taking over a beloved character and telling a new story from the beginning as a reboot? Or are you telling me that you will only ever be satisfied with the very first story that was ever written and all others are cheap bastardizations that shall not be borne? Aaaaargh. It drives me insane. Clearly.

What I'm really trying to say is that I enjoyed the movie and it doesn't matter that it diverged from the source material because, no matter what, it was bound to do so. And I want to encourage you all to try a little harder to be open to the varying interpretations of some of your favorite books being made into film (I'm thinking ahead to "The Martian" by Andy Weir and "Ready Player One" by Ernest Cline, coming soon). And if you can't do that and you still hate a movie simply because it's a little different than you expected, then keep it to yourself. 'Cause I just don't want to hear it.

Spring Happiness

There's just something about Spring. I think it might be my favorite time of the year. I'm not sure I ever really thought of spring as the superior season when I lived in California. In NorCal there are clearly defined seasons - Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring. Each lasts the requisite three months or so, just enough time for you to enjoy that season, but not so long that you get sick of it. Living in Portland, however, is an entirely different beast. Here, you have a super short Summer, an abbreviated Fall, a loooooooong Winter (incessant grey skies and rain), and a brief Spring (it can be as short as three weeks). And since I've moved here I've found myself more and more enamored with Spring. I'm sure the reason is obvious to you all: it comes after an interminable winter in which I have to dress everyday in preparation for the inevitable rain shower. Now, don't get me wrong. I like the rain and I like winter weather. But after 5+ months of it, I'm ready to move on to blue skies and something a little warmer. And so, around mid-May each year I am begging whatever higher power may exist in this world to give me Spring. This year I've been very fortunate as that wonderful season has come early to Portland. We've been enjoying some beautiful (and schizophrenic - we went from 80 degrees one day to 55 degrees the next) weather lately. This has led to some very happy moods for your's truly and some inspired poetry...

The sun is shining, oh, what a day,
Clear blue skies seem here to stay.
My heart feels light, I can't help but smile,
I feel so much better than I have in a while.
There's just nothing better than life in spring,
When every thing's new and the world glows green.
Waking up in the morning seems easy to do,
I jump out of bed and just take a few
Moments to get ready, then I'm quickly out the door,
Why stay inside when you can be out to explore
The world all around us, with the sun shining bright,
It all comes together and my entire being feels right.
On a day like today, it all seems so clear,
There's just nothing better than this time of year.

The Art of Procrastination

Some days when writing my weekly clerk lunch reminder emails I move away from my typical poem accompaniment and instead fall into some random thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts can get a bit...salty. Take a look:

Dear Fellow Clerks,

This is your timely reminder that today, Thursday, April 9, 2015, we will be holding the weekly clerk lunch. If you are surprised by this fact, please see your doctor immediately. This should NOT come as a surprise. After all, we've been holding these weekly clerk lunches for well over a year. Why can't you get with the program already?? I can't tell you the number of times I have been told "oh, clerk lunch was today? I totally forgot!" How could you forget? How? If you come or if you receive these emails then you must have noticed a pattern by now. You get an email every week on Thursday and every week on Thursday we all meet for lunch at the Standard. It's a pretty simple pattern to see. Maybe these people are trying to spare my feelings and claim forgetfulness when the truth is that they just didn't want to come. If that is the case, then this is my response: "you are not hurting my feelings. I will give you a hard time about not coming, but there are days when I don't attend. That's alright. It is 100% ok to skip clerk lunch when you feel like it. Hence our slogan (which I am just now making up) 'come if you want or don't, we just don't give a rip.'" Hmmm, was that too combative? Did that seem mean? Oh well. We'll just all have to deal today.

And now, on to more pleasant (?) topics...

Today is all about the art of procrastination. I have several tasks I need to get done today, not the least of which is research on a civil motion for my judge, but I just can't bring myself to do any of it. Today is a day of non-productivity. I feel uninspired to work. It's gotten so bad that I even went out to Starbucks at 10:15 for a mid-morning break. What?? I don't take breaks! The world must be ending. Has anyone looked out a window lately to see if the sky is falling? Maybe we should get on that.

In any event, I keep thinking about all the work I should be doing and then immediately start on something else. I haven't been completely useless here at work. My procrastination has been somewhat productive (so I guess calling it non-productive is a misnomer and the word police will soon come to take me away). I've managed to put away files, go through all my extra forms and re-label them, reorganize several filing cabinets for my new JA Grace and look at everything on the internet that I want to/can look at while at work. So, now I'm bored and I don't have much left at my disposal to procrastinate with (which could in fact be an explanation of this diatribe - a long-winded speech on procrastination that is itself a tool of my procrastination). But the art of procrastination is a serious thing and something a lot of people (I'm talking to any generation older than our own) do not understand. In some ways I think we need procrastination. Because the truth of the matter is, I just can't bring myself to work on certain items until the last minute. If I try to force myself to start researching motions before I feel I'm down to the wire then my mind invariably wanders, I get bored, I get sleepy, bad things generally happen. Without time constraints and that feeling of "oh sh**, I've got to get this done or die!" I just can't seem to motivate myself. Whenever I express this feeling to my mother or other...let's call them "grown ups," I am met with the advice that "I should just do it right away and be done with it. Wouldn't I feel better without it hanging over my head?" Well, yeah. Of course. I'm not an idiot. But that doesn't mean that I can actually do that. It doesn't mean that I can somehow dig up the proper work ethic, motivation, or drive to work on something I really don't want to do before I absolutely have to do it.

Is this just a symptom of our generation? And if yes, then what is the cause? And let's not go with something simple and stupid like (said in a mock grown up voice) "well, our generation has been inundated with immediate gratification for our entire lives and have never had to work hard for anything and therefore does not appreciate just how good we have it or the concept of putting in hard work." That's a cop out and it's insulting. And it assumes that all generations before ours have had to work hard and no one else in the history of humanity has ever had it easy. That is just ridiculous. Each generation has had it's individual hardships that differ from the generation before. Just because they are not the same hardships doesn't mean they don't exist and/or are invalid. But, perhaps this isn't a symptom of our generation. Perhaps it's just a symptom of humanity. Or maybe this is all much simpler. Maybe this is just a symptom of me. Am I the only person around here who feels this way? Am I the only person procrastinating?? Whoa. I've reached a new level of crazy now. But this is a serious issue. Is procrastination even something we need to fix? I suppose it is if you procrastinate to the point of actually failing to complete tasks, but what if you actually get everything done? Is it ok to procrastinate if all it does is inspire you to work harder at the last minute? Unfortunately, I have no answer. But I do have a philosophical question that needs pondering, which will probably take up the rest of my afternoon...and that's one more point on the side of procrastination.

Overwhelmed

I'm only one person, just little old me,
I can't be in two places, though I wish I could be.
At first I had one job, it was easy to do,
But then came a second job, nothing terribly new.
And then a small wrinkle was thrown in the works,
As a third job was added by my bosses, those jerks.
Now, I'm trying my darndest to get it all done,
But I'm getting bogged down and I've lost all my fun.
But my bosses, it's true, are not wholly to blame,
I hate asking for help and I like holding the reins.
But I'm learning to accept help when it comes,
So today's a bit calmer than the three prior ones.
Hopefully soon my job count will be two,
And with a great sigh of relief I will say "phew!"


As you may have keyed in on from the poem above, work has been hectic of late. Somehow, over the past two weeks, I've found myself essentially working three jobs. Or trying to, anyway. It's not been easy and it's turned me into, what can kindly be called, a cranky pants. Luckily the person who was out for two weeks (which added the third job to my already crowded plate) is back and I will be down to two jobs on Monday. Thank goodness! The pace I was keeping was entirely unsustainable. Now to just find my next position so that I'm not stuck doing two jobs, one of which is a clerkship, forever...

The Worst Effing Day

What I now say won't sound fun and happy,
I just don't have that in me, this day is too crappy.
Last night was just awful, a night truly dour,
It made my mood both salty and sour.
But I thought for sure that today would be better,
A night of good sleep and I'd be unfettered.
But I woke up this morning feeling quite blue,
As if the world had instead said, "Lauren, f*** you."
Being a good sport, I was still willing to smile,
And hope it would improve in a small while.
But that didn't happen. Oh no, not at all,
Instead even worse was soon to befall.
Just hit after hit keeps coming my way,
Leading me to believe that this is the worst effing day.


In order of appearance...

1. A special showing of my favorite movie Labyrinth was occuring at OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) with a special 30 minute lecture beforehand by Toby Froud who played baby Toby in the movie, is a puppeteer himself and is the son of Brian Froud who designed all the creatures for Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal for Jim Hensen. Basically, the man is the son of genius. I even have a signed print by Brian Froud hanging up in my house. So I really wanted to go to this. I've been to most of the other movies in the Reel Science series OMSI puts on (Jaws, Jurassic Park, The Princess Bride, etc.) and while many were full, none sold out. Well, this was the one that sold out and I was turned away at the counter despite arriving very early. Hit one.
2. I arrived home after being turned away to find a letter from the Portland City Attorney's office addressed to "Laura Moser" (ummmm...hello? My name is Lauren) regretfully informing me that they have hired someone else for the job that I really, really wanted. Total bummer. Hit two.
3. That day I was supposed to have traveled down to SoCal to spend time with my family during my big sister's fourth chemo treatment and for my mother's birthday, but work kept me in Portland. Hit three.
4. The next morning I woke up and went to work. Hit four. (Work is always counted as a hit.)
5. My favorite author, Terry Pratchett, died today. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease several years ago and kept writing despite his illness, even releasing a book just last year. He died from natural causes associated with the disease. I first discovered Terry Pratchett sometime in college on a whim. My friend Mallory and I watched a movie that had this amazing preview for a strange looking film called Hogfather. We both thought it looked incredible and tried to find it at our local movie rental store (Elephant Pharmacy - this was Berkeley, CA after all) to no avail. Well, a year or so later I was randomly perusing the science fiction aisle at Borders (another fallen hero) when I came across a title that was instantly familiar to me...Hogfather by Terry Pratchett. Why, it was a book first! I thought to myself. I immediately bought the book and and was hooked from that point on. I now own almost every Discworld novel in hardback and have read them multiple times. His books are funny, satirical, biting, insightful, and thought provoking. I cannot believe that he is gone and will never write again. It's amazing how attached we grow to people that we have tangible connection to. I obviously never met Terry Pratchett, but I always felt like I knew him. He was a friend who transported me to this amazing realm and introduced me to some of my most beloved characters. When I need something to just pass the time, to give me a laugh, or improve my mood, I reach for anything written by Terry Pratchett. And now that he's gone it feels as though I've lost a close friend. Hit five.
6. I wasn't with my sister during her fourth chemo treatment. Hit six.
7. One of my best friends at my current job is leaving for her next position at a downtown Portland civil litigation firm. She is ready and eager for this new job and I know she will be absolutely amazing. And she's still going to be close enough for us to meet up for lunch and fun after work. But it won't be the same. We won't be able to instant message each other during the day any more and I won't be able to run up the two flights of stairs to her Courtroom to just hang out when we both have free time. I'm really happy for her and so excited at this opportunity, but I'm also sad. Hit seven.

I'm now trying to come to terms with all of this. I allowed myself today to wallow, be a general grump, and embrace a woe-is-me attitude. Tomorrow though I will buck up and get over it. On to bigger and better things. Look out, world! 'Cause I will not let this stand. 

Farewell, Jon Stewart

I've thought long and hard about a possible poem for today, but in the end just couldn't bring myself to write one. The reason is...I am too sad. Why am I sad, you ask? Because Jon Stewart is leaving The Daily Show. This is devastating news. I have been an ardent fan of both The Daily Show and The Colbert Report for years. In fact, of all my TV watching (and I do more than is probably good for me), those are/were the two shows I most consistently watched. And it wasn't long after my introduction that I used them as my most trusted and comprehensive source of world news. On The Daily Show Jon Stewart skewers politicians and pundits with insightful and ridiculously witty comments and digs. On The Colbert Report my beloved Stephen would then make me laugh out loud with his ridiculously pompous conservative persona. It was tragic when Colbert left and The Colbert Report ended. I still have the final episode saved on my DVR in case I need one more run through. A kind of truthiness security blanket. But I consoled myself with the knowledge that I still had Jon. At least I wasn't completely abandoned. And Larry Wilmore was soon to begin a new show in Colbert's old spot, The Nightly Show. I eagerly awaited the start of this new show as I had always considered Larry Wilmore to be one of The Daily Show correspondents who could most easily hold up his own half hour program. After less than a month I can now say that I love Wilmore's new show. The round table discussions with people who hold varying perspectives on issues are fascinating and Wilmore does an amazing job of both keeping his guests on topic and keeping the discussions largely civil (no small feat when you're discussing obesity in America, Bill Cosby, and how we view war, just to name a few). I am quickly becoming a huge fan of The Nightly Show.

But I am not ready to lose Stewart. I was worried when I heard that Stewart and Comedy Central were still in "contract negotiations." And I was even more concerned when I went to see Rosewater, which Jon Stewart directed, and realized it was really good and he could make a viable career turn toward director. But I held out hope even as I expected the worst - that Stewart would leave us all to the whims of traditional nightly news pundits. Two nights ago Stewart brought down the hammer and announced that he was leaving The Daily Show. As I said before, it was devastating. Made even more so because I was given this news by my mother who called me at 9:00 pm to ask how I was doing and upon hearing I was ok, but a little blue, she said "Well, to make matters worse have you seen the news yet that Jon Stewart is leaving?" No, Mom, but thanks for making my night just that much worse.

I understand that Jon Stewart can't continue at his job forever. He has to move on to bigger and better things. And to be honest, I think it's been obvious for a couple of years now that he has been more frustrated and less able to see the humor in what he reports than in years past. As a viewer and average citizen I am tired of how ridiculous and ineffective our news media and politicians have become and it seems that every year they get worse no matter how much we plead for change and bipartisanship. I can only imagine how much harder it grinds on you when you do a job like Stewart's, being the actual voice for his viewers to those people with seemingly little to show for it in changes to the system. Jon Stewart deserves a break. But I wish he didn't! I wish that he could continue as the anchor and leader of The Daily Show forever. Unfortunately, it's not to be. He won't be leaving right away and we have him for at least a few more months, but now as I watch his show each evening (Monday through Thursday) it will be with a heart heavy with the knowledge that each episode brings us closer to the end. Now that Stewart has announced his plans to leave news outlets are awash with articles speculating on who could fill his desk. John Oliver did a phenomenal job of it when Stewart left to direct Rosewater and many of his other correspondents could pick up the mantle with aplomb (Jessica Williams would be fantastic). But the truth of the matter is that no matter who next sits at The Daily Show desk, they will never be Jon Stewart. I am positive that the new person will do a great job and I know that I will continue watching, but Jon Stewart is one of a kind. Whip smart, incredibly well read, and outrageously well-informed on seemingly every political and world-affecting topic, I just can't see how anyone can do exactly what he does. And maybe that's ok. When someone new sits at that desk, they should make it their own. Put their own spin and flair on it. But I will still miss The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. And I'll be savoring these last few months.

Changes

Changes, changes all around,
Up above and on the ground.
Sometimes I look around and see,
Everything is different, even me.
But then I think that I'm the same,
And it seems to be some strange game,
That others play and leave me out,
A game of chess where they move about.
But I'm still standing completely still,
And I don't understand how I will
Ever figure out this shifting world,
That seems so strange as it unfurls.
Does everyone fell like a leaf at times,
Battered and blown without reason or rhyme?
I wish that I could just yell "freeze!"
And take a moment just to breathe.
To feel like I can catch up a bit,
A moment to myself where I can just sit
And be me in this time and space,
Not constantly reacting with a brave face.
But the world and time offer no such breaks,
The clock ticks on and so I'll take
One deep breath and then one more,
Until I can accept feeling unmoored.
Tomorrow will be better, there's hope for today,
I'll just keep breathing until I find my way.

On the Subject of Reading

Now, instead of a poem this week you get a diatribe instead....I hope you enjoy.

Why don't people read anymore? I know this is a bit of an over-broad statement, but I think it holds true for a lot of people. People simply don't read much anymore. Why is this? I love reading. I own thousands of books. Quite literally. Books are stashed all over my house (bookshelf, closet, other closet, other bookshelf, under my bed - all the usual places for a true bookworm) and my books even cover the bookshelves in my parents' home (my Dad's books have all been pushed out to one lonely little bookshelf in the loft). But I find more and more that I am one of very few people who read more than 5 books a year. In fact, that's a statistic I recently read in a magazine article - the average American reads only 5 books per year. How is that even possible?? Reading is such a key aspect of life and everyone should embrace it. Reading can improve your life in so many ways. Reading can give you an escape from your daily life. It can teach you something new. Reading can offer you a new perspective that you've never considered before. And reading improves your mind - I always notice a difference in my vocabulary and even the way I think based on what I've been reading. So I can't understand people who say "I don't like to read." What does that even mean?? How do you get through life? Do you just watch TV and assume everything some pundit tells you is the entire story on the matter? You won't read an in-depth look at the history of North Korea that led to the current state of government? Ok, maybe that's not the best example (although it sounds like an interesting topic to me). But, really, how do you not like to read? Maybe the real problem here is that you haven't found your particular book genre yet. That's a travesty. But you shouldn't give up! Keep trying new books. Find a friend with similar interests and attitudes and ask them for a book recommendation. I am always willing to give you a helping hand to find a new book you would love. I can't imagine a life without books and the written word. It would be too dull to even contemplate. I hope all of you are big readers (the fact that you've stuck with this monstrosity of an email suggest you are). If you're not and you're one of those people who "don't like to read," please give books another chance. I promise you'll find something that will change your mind.