Journeys

OMG, the NYTimes wedding section is like the updated version of the Chinese aunties comparing their kids: example

Cat cafe soothes Tokyo's busy feline lovers

Brilliant! The Seattle animal shelters should take note... new business model for the strays :)

He was gone for 44 hours. But he found his way home.
Thank goodness he's now safe and home.

My dilemma now is how to prevent this in the future...
*sigh*

This was the most recent question in the Seattle Time's "Interpersonal Edge" column.

Q. One of my co-workers likes to openly criticize me during meetings. He brings up complaints about my team that are totally unrelated to the meeting agenda. Other people in the meeting also think he's a jerk. I recently told him it upsets me when he acts like this. Do you think he'll change now?

A. No. People don't change because we're upset. People change because the cost of not changing is a price they don't want to pay.

I've often watched my coaching clients be frustrated and puzzled at why co-workers don't shape up when my clients share their feelings. I tell my clients that it's great they can identify their feelings. However, the only outcome we get when we tell people they make us feel bad is guilt. When people feel guilty around us, they'll avoid us but they still won't change.

Instead of sharing that your co-worker embarrasses you, upsets you or makes you uncomfortable, focus on telling him what you want and what the consequence will be if he ignores your request.

Before your next meeting, have a chat with your complaining co-worker. Say something like: "I've noticed in meetings you often bring up requests you have for me when our meeting agenda is on a different topic. I prefer to have you bring these concerns to me after the meeting. Otherwise, I'll need to point out that I can't take the time of the group to address these private concerns."

Be prepared that people will usually test our willingness to set limits by trying out the old bad behavior just one more time. If you don't follow through on the consequence you promised, you'll not only continue to be treated poorly, but you'll have also undermined your credibility.

Respect in or out of the workplace isn't based on fear, popularity or intimidation. Respect is based on people experiencing that you clearly state what you want, set limits of treatment you won't accept and also make sure people around you get what they need.

Since doormats don't get the corner office, and since office predators only inspire people to get quietly even, finding a middle path to walk through your workplace is crucial. You can't blame your co-worker for enjoying the meeting spotlight when he jumps on his whining soapbox. However, you don't have to make it comfortable for him to continue.

Source.(Bolding of text is my contribution.)

Where I go wrong sometimes is having an expectation of what a "normal" person would do given an X scenario. It's a good reminder that professionalism, be it at work or elsewhere, is really a matter of good communication. With friends, there's an understanding. There's assumption of honor and respect. There's compassion. There's caring. With everyone else, your success depends on the clear establishment of expected behaviors and attitudes.

I'm really annoyed right now... not sure what to do.

I have planned for 4 days in Paris in May. After a lot of web searching, I found this spectacular little B&B that sound fantastics and had relaxing photos to back it up. Best of all, it looks great to me and doesn't break the bank - giving me more room to spend the expensive euros on food and museum passes instead.

The problem?

The owner wanted me to mail the deposit in Euros by registered mail. I just couldn't freaking get to the bank, plus, K was skeptical about the mailing money by mail scenario. So I emailed the owner back and asked if maybe I could do Paypal but it has been over a week-and-a-half and I haven't gotten a response to any of my inquiries.

I'm really not sure what to do. Generally, I have a good sense of whether something's a scam or not. This place is cited on various hotel/B&B website listing; plus, the owner has image scans of her B&B being written up in various French magazines. But she's not replying to my emails. And noone is picking up at the number listed for this B&B.

What to do???

I encountered some protesters on their way into SF on the BART this morning. They were rehearsing answers for questions that they may potentially encounter during their protesting. I kind of wanted to ask them if they had ever travelled to China and seen and experienced for themselves the country, its people, their thoughts. I wanted to ask them if they had thought about whether our Executive branch under Busy-Cheney-Ashcroft-Gonzalez have done and are doing any less evils than what "Communist China" has been accused of in Tibet. And how about fix our own damn country first. To the normal Chinese person who just wants to see his country made proud with a good hosting of the Olympics, these protests probably come across as raining on their parade and are evidence to support their government's charge that the West is against China and the West is trying to push China around and tell them what to do. It seems to me that nationalistic sentiments are on the rise from both sides of the rising tension.

I cannot believe I am saying this, but, man, a protest is such an ineffective way to get things done. (ahhhh, I am getting OLD!) If you really want to make a personal contribution to change: travel. Go to other countries. Bypass the media and the propaganda and rhetoric from your government and their government. See for yourself. Don't just read the headlines. Most important of all: Talk to others and Listen. It saddens me when I constantly encounter travellers who are there to see only what they want to see to confirm their pre-held preconceptions.

Anyway, this article that was originally published in The Atlantic in 1999 recently just resurfaced on the web. I really liked it for it's ground-up other perspective.
( full text in case archive disappears )

Other great stuff on Tibet:

* Fresh Air interview: 'Open Road' Recounts Dalai Lama's Global Journey
* Seattletimes: Blogging Beijing
* LJ blogger sino_rimbaud's thoughts

Through a confluence of various things coming together, it's happened! I'm going backpacking for a little bit in May!

The trip will last for only ten days - nothing at all... but, still... VACATION!!! As of now, all I have planned is the cities and dates. I'll spend 3 day in Stockholm to experience the Swedish spring sun. Then I fly into Paris for 4 days of the famous Paris springtime. Then I fly into Dublin for 2 days. (Maybe I see Bono!!! ;) Originally I had wanted to walk the Irish countryside - but the logistics didn't seem to work out. The new plan is a fine alternative :D

My short hops within Europe are going to be flown via Ryanair; it's one of those famously cheap European continental airlines. Apparently, the airline does a cattle call a la Southwest; I was given the option of paying 4 Euros charge for the privilege of "priority boarding". I'll save that for a delicious cup of espresso when I land, thanks. Another funny charge is the 4 Euros charge for "airport check in". Given that Non-EU card holding passengers are not allowed, however, to do online check in, this is, in essence, a polite way of taxing not-Europeans. At least it was super cheap. Although taxes and fees typically at least tripled the advertised price, with the starting point of an eye-popping 8 USD fare starting point, even the final total of 60 USD is definitely still very reasonable. The alternative is probably $400+ via other airlines or the train.

It took me forever to finally decide how I wanted to spend those ten days. Vacation days are so precious and the possibilities just endless. Barcelona, the Greek islands, Croatian cities along the Adriatic sea, Turkey... will just have to wait.

The rolling hills alongside highway 680 look so pretty as I drive southbound to Santa Clara. This will only last until the summer sun comes along in a few months to scorch the grass dry, I guess. The Great America has opened for the season. I could hear the kids' screams as they ride the rides in the company's backyard when I walked through the lunch room today. Good thing I don't sit near open windows. It would be so distracting. And makes me so jealous... :P

Delivered Tuesday March 18, 2008, at Constitution Center in Philadelphia.

Note: "This wasn't a speech by committee... Obama wrote the speech himself, working on it for two days and nights.... and showed it to only a few of his top advisers." ... "the last time a major speech was written without the aid of a speechwriter by a president or presidential candidate was Nixon's "Great Silent Majority" speech delivered on October 13, 1969."... (source)

Because the man should not be behind a lj-cut, here is his full essay:

"We the people, in order to form a more perfect union."

Two hundred and twenty one years ago, in a hall that still stands across the street, a group of men gathered and, with these simple words, launched America's improbable experiment in democracy. Farmers and scholars; statesmen and patriots who had traveled across an ocean to escape tyranny and persecution finally made real their declaration of independence at a Philadelphia convention that lasted through the spring of 1787.

The document they produced was eventually signed but ultimately unfinished. It was stained by this nation's original sin of slavery, a question that divided the colonies and brought the convention to a stalemate until the founders chose to allow the slave trade to continue for at least twenty more years, and to leave any final resolution to future generations.

Of course, the answer to the slavery question was already embedded within our Constitution – a Constitution that had at is very core the ideal of equal citizenship under the law; a Constitution that promised its people liberty, and justice, and a union that could be and should be perfected over time.

And yet words on a parchment would not be enough to deliver slaves from bondage, or provide men and women of every color and creed their full rights and obligations as citizens of the United States. What would be needed were Americans in successive generations who were willing to do their part – through protests and struggle, on the streets and in the courts, through a civil war and civil disobedience and always at great risk – to narrow that gap between the promise of our ideals and the reality of their time.

This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign – to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together – unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction – towards a better future for of children and our grandchildren.

This belief comes from my unyielding faith in the decency and generosity of the American people. But it also comes from my own American story.

I am the son of a black man from Kenya and a white woman from Kansas. I was raised with the help of a white grandfather who survived a Depression to serve in Patton's Army during World War II and a white grandmother who worked on a bomber assembly line at Fort Leavenworth while he was overseas. I've gone to some of the best schools in America and lived in one of the world's poorest nations. I am married to a black American who carries within her the blood of slaves and slaveowners – an inheritance we pass on to our two precious daughters. I have brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, uncles and cousins, of every race and every hue, scattered across three continents, and for as long as I live, I will never forget that in no other country on Earth is my story even possible.

It's a story that hasn't made me the most conventional candidate. But it is a story that has seared into my genetic makeup the idea that this nation is more than the sum of its parts – that out of many, we are truly one.

Throughout the first year of this campaign, against all predictions to the contrary, we saw how hungry the American people were for this message of unity. Despite the temptation to view my candidacy through a purely racial lens, we won commanding victories in states with some of the whitest populations in the country. In South Carolina, where the Confederate Flag still flies, we built a powerful coalition of African Americans and white Americans.

This is not to say that race has not been an issue in the campaign. At various stages in the campaign, some commentators have deemed me either "too black" or "not black enough." We saw racial tensions bubble to the surface during the week before the South Carolina primary. The press has scoured every exit poll for the latest evidence of racial polarization, not just in terms of white and black, but black and brown as well.

And yet, it has only been in the last couple of weeks that the discussion of race in this campaign has taken a particularly divisive turn.

On one end of the spectrum, we've heard the implication that my candidacy is somehow an exercise in affirmative action; that it's based solely on the desire of wide-eyed liberals to purchase racial reconciliation on the cheap. On the other end, we've heard my former pastor, Reverend Jeremiah Wright, use incendiary language to express views that have the potential not only to widen the racial divide, but views that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation; that rightly offend white and black alike.

I have already condemned, in unequivocal terms, the statements of Reverend Wright that have caused such controversy. For some, nagging questions remain. Did I know him to be an occasionally fierce critic of American domestic and foreign policy? Of course. Did I ever hear him make remarks that could be considered controversial while I sat in church? Yes. Did I strongly disagree with many of his political views? Absolutely – just as I'm sure many of you have heard remarks from your pastors, priests, or rabbis with which you strongly disagreed.

But the remarks that have caused this recent firestorm weren't simply controversial. They weren't simply a religious leader's effort to speak out against perceived injustice. Instead, they expressed a profoundly distorted view of this country – a view that sees white racism as endemic, and that elevates what is wrong with America above all that we know is right with America; a view that sees the conflicts in the Middle East as rooted primarily in the actions of stalwart allies like Israel, instead of emanating from the perverse and hateful ideologies of radical Islam.

As such, Reverend Wright's comments were not only wrong but divisive, divisive at a time when we need unity; racially charged at a time when we need to come together to solve a set of monumental problems – two wars, a terrorist threat, a falling economy, a chronic health care crisis and potentially devastating climate change; problems that are neither black or white or Latino or Asian, but rather problems that confront us all.

Given my background, my politics, and my professed values and ideals, there will no doubt be those for whom my statements of condemnation are not enough. Why associate myself with Reverend Wright in the first place, they may ask? Why not join another church? And I confess that if all that I knew of Reverend Wright were the snippets of those sermons that have run in an endless loop on the television and You Tube, or if Trinity United Church of Christ conformed to the caricatures being peddled by some commentators, there is no doubt that I would react in much the same way

But the truth is, that isn't all that I know of the man. The man I met more than twenty years ago is a man who helped introduce me to my Christian faith, a man who spoke to me about our obligations to love one another; to care for the sick and lift up the poor. He is a man who served his country as a U.S. Marine; who has studied and lectured at some of the finest universities and seminaries in the country, and who for over thirty years led a church that serves the community by doing God's work here on Earth – by housing the homeless, ministering to the needy, providing day care services and scholarships and prison ministries, and reaching out to those suffering from HIV/AIDS.

In my first book, Dreams From My Father, I described the experience of my first service at Trinity:

"People began to shout, to rise from their seats and clap and cry out, a forceful wind carrying the reverend's voice up into the rafters.And in that single note – hope! – I heard something else; at the foot of that cross, inside the thousands of churches across the city, I imagined the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekiel's field of dry bones. Those stories – of survival, and freedom, and hope – became our story, my story; the blood that had spilled was our blood, the tears our tears; until this black church, on this bright day, seemed once more a vessel carrying the story of a people into future generations and into a larger world. Our trials and triumphs became at once unique and universal, black and more than black; in chronicling our journey, the stories and songs gave us a means to reclaim memories that we didn't need to feel shame aboutmemories that all people might study and cherish – and with which we could start to rebuild."

That has been my experience at Trinity. Like other predominantly black churches across the country, Trinity embodies the black community in its entirety – the doctor and the welfare mom, the model student and the former gang-banger. Like other black churches, Trinity's services are full of raucous laughter and sometimes bawdy humor. They are full of dancing, clapping, screaming and shouting that may seem jarring to the untrained ear. The church contains in full the kindness and cruelty, the fierce intelligence and the shocking ignorance, the struggles and successes, the love and yes, the bitterness and bias that make up the black experience in America.

And this helps explain, perhaps, my relationship with Reverend Wright. As imperfect as he may be, he has been like family to me. He strengthened my faith, officiated my wedding, and baptized my children. Not once in my conversations with him have I heard him talk about any ethnic group in derogatory terms, or treat whites with whom he interacted with anything but courtesy and respect. He contains within him the contradictions – the good and the bad – of the community that he has served diligently for so many years.

I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother – a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.

These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.

Some will see this as an attempt to justify or excuse comments that are simply inexcusable. I can assure you it is not. I suppose the politically safe thing would be to move on from this episode and just hope that it fades into the woodwork. We can dismiss Reverend Wright as a crank or a demagogue, just as some have dismissed Geraldine Ferraro, in the aftermath of her recent statements, as harboring some deep-seated racial bias.

But race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. We would be making the same mistake that Reverend Wright made in his offending sermons about America – to simplify and stereotype and amplify the negative to the point that it distorts reality.

The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through – a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat into our respective corners, we will never be able to come together and solve challenges like health care, or education, or the need to find good jobs for every American.

Understanding this reality requires a reminder of how we arrived at this point. As William Faulkner once wrote, "The past isn't dead and buried. In fact, it isn't even past." We do not need to recite here the history of racial injustice in this country. But we do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.

Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students.

Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire departments – meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities.

A lack of economic opportunity among black men, and the shame and frustration that came from not being able to provide for one's family, contributed to the erosion of black families – a problem that welfare policies for many years may have worsened. And the lack of basic services in so many urban black neighborhoods – parks for kids to play in, police walking the beat, regular garbage pick-up and building code enforcement – all helped create a cycle of violence, blight and neglect that continue to haunt us.

This is the reality in which Reverend Wright and other African-Americans of his generation grew up. They came of age in the late fifties and early sixties, a time when segregation was still the law of the land and opportunity was systematically constricted. What's remarkable is not how many failed in the face of discrimination, but rather how many men and women overcame the odds; how many were able to make a way out of no way for those like me who would come after them.

But for all those who scratched and clawed their way to get a piece of the American Dream, there were many who didn't make it – those who were ultimately defeated, in one way or another, by discrimination. That legacy of defeat was passed on to future generations – those young men and increasingly young women who we see standing on street corners or languishing in our prisons, without hope or prospects for the future. Even for those blacks who did make it, questions of race, and racism, continue to define their worldview in fundamental ways. For the men and women of Reverend Wright's generation, the memories of humiliation and doubt and fear have not gone away; nor has the anger and the bitterness of those years. That anger may not get expressed in public, in front of white co-workers or white friends. But it does find voice in the barbershop or around the kitchen table. At times, that anger is exploited by politicians, to gin up votes along racial lines, or to make up for a politician's own failings.

And occasionally it finds voice in the church on Sunday morning, in the pulpit and in the pews. The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some of Reverend Wright's sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning. That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.

In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don't feel that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their experience is the immigrant experience – as far as they're concerned, no one's handed them anything, they've built it from scratch. They've worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they themselves never committed; when they're told that their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds over time.

Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren't always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or reverse racism.

Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the middle class squeeze – a corporate culture rife with inside dealing, questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns – this too widens the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding.

This is where we are right now. It's a racial stalemate we've been stuck in for years. Contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naïve as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy – particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.

But I have asserted a firm conviction – a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people – that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice is we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.

For the African-American community, that path means embracing the burdens of our past without becoming victims of our past. It means continuing to insist on a full measure of justice in every aspect of American life. But it also means binding our particular grievances – for better health care, and better schools, and better jobs - to the larger aspirations of all Americans -- the white woman struggling to break the glass ceiling, the white man whose been laid off, the immigrant trying to feed his family. And it means taking full responsibility for own lives – by demanding more from our fathers, and spending more time with our children, and reading to them, and teaching them that while they may face challenges and discrimination in their own lives, they must never succumb to despair or cynicism; they must always believe that they can write their own destiny.

Ironically, this quintessentially American – and yes, conservative – notion of self-help found frequent expression in Reverend Wright's sermons. But what my former pastor too often failed to understand is that embarking on a program of self-help also requires a belief that society can change.

The profound mistake of Reverend Wright's sermons is not that he spoke about racism in our society. It's that he spoke as if our society was static; as if no progress has been made; as if this country – a country that has made it possible for one of his own members to run for the highest office in the land and build a coalition of white and black; Latino and Asian, rich and poor, young and old -- is still irrevocably bound to a tragic past. But what we know – what we have seen – is that America can change. That is true genius of this nation. What we have already achieved gives us hope – the audacity to hope – for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

In the white community, the path to a more perfect union means acknowledging that what ails the African-American community does not just exist in the minds of black people; that the legacy of discrimination - and current incidents of discrimination, while less overt than in the past - are real and must be addressed. Not just with words, but with deeds – by investing in our schools and our communities; by enforcing our civil rights laws and ensuring fairness in our criminal justice system; by providing this generation with ladders of opportunity that were unavailable for previous generations. It requires all Americans to realize that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams; that investing in the health, welfare, and education of black and brown and white children will ultimately help all of America prosper.

In the end, then, what is called for is nothing more, and nothing less, than what all the world's great religions demand – that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. Let us be our brother's keeper, Scripture tells us. Let us be our sister's keeper. Let us find that common stake we all have in one another, and let our politics reflect that spirit as well.

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle – as we did in the OJ trial – or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.

We can do that.

But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time we want to talk about the crumbling schools that are stealing the future of black children and white children and Asian children and Hispanic children and Native American children. This time we want to reject the cynicism that tells us that these kids can't learn; that those kids who don't look like us are somebody else's problem. The children of America are not those kids, they are our kids, and we will not let them fall behind in a 21st century economy. Not this time.

This time we want to talk about how the lines in the Emergency Room are filled with whites and blacks and Hispanics who do not have health care; who don't have the power on their own to overcome the special interests in Washington, but who can take them on if we do it together.

This time we want to talk about the shuttered mills that once provided a decent life for men and women of every race, and the homes for sale that once belonged to Americans from every religion, every region, every walk of life. This time we want to talk about the fact that the real problem is not that someone who doesn't look like you might take your job; it's that the corporation you work for will ship it overseas for nothing more than a profit.

This time we want to talk about the men and women of every color and creed who serve together, and fight together, and bleed together under the same proud flag. We want to talk about how to bring them home from a war that never should've been authorized and never should've been waged, and we want to talk about how we'll show our patriotism by caring for them, and their families, and giving them the benefits they have earned.

I would not be running for President if I didn't believe with all my heart that this is what the vast majority of Americans want for this country. This union may never be perfect, but generation after generation has shown that it can always be perfected. And today, whenever I find myself feeling doubtful or cynical about this possibility, what gives me the most hope is the next generation – the young people whose attitudes and beliefs and openness to change have already made history in this election.

There is one story in particularly that I'd like to leave you with today – a story I told when I had the great honor of speaking on Dr. King's birthday at his home church, Ebenezer Baptist, in Atlanta.

There is a young, twenty-three year old white woman named Ashley Baia who organized for our campaign in Florence, South Carolina. She had been working to organize a mostly African-American community since the beginning of this campaign, and one day she was at a roundtable discussion where everyone went around telling their story and why they were there.

And Ashley said that when she was nine years old, her mother got cancer. And because she had to miss days of work, she was let go and lost her health care. They had to file for bankruptcy, and that's when Ashley decided that she had to do something to help her mom.

She knew that food was one of their most expensive costs, and so Ashley convinced her mother that what she really liked and really wanted to eat more than anything else was mustard and relish sandwiches. Because that was the cheapest way to eat.

She did this for a year until her mom got better, and she told everyone at the roundtable that the reason she joined our campaign was so that she could help the millions of other children in the country who want and need to help their parents too.

Now Ashley might have made a different choice. Perhaps somebody told her along the way that the source of her mother's problems were blacks who were on welfare and too lazy to work, or Hispanics who were coming into the country illegally. But she didn't. She sought out allies in her fight against injustice.

Anyway, Ashley finishes her story and then goes around the room and asks everyone else why they're supporting the campaign. They all have different stories and reasons. Many bring up a specific issue. And finally they come to this elderly black man who's been sitting there quietly the entire time. And Ashley asks him why he's there. And he does not bring up a specific issue. He does not say health care or the economy. He does not say education or the war. He does not say that he was there because of Barack Obama. He simply says to everyone in the room, "I am here because of Ashley."

"I'm here because of Ashley." By itself, that single moment of recognition between that young white girl and that old black man is not enough. It is not enough to give health care to the sick, or jobs to the jobless, or education to our children.

But it is where we start. It is where our union grows stronger. And as so many generations have come to realize over the course of the two-hundred and twenty one years since a band of patriots signed that document in Philadelphia, that is where the perfection begins.

BRILLIANT.

The video of the speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pWe7wTVbLUU

Apparently, I now have sinus infection. The jaw is really sore, nose completely clogged up, I'm running a low-grade fever again and my bones and muscles ache. Although I've had allergies for years now, I've never had this happen before. I am getting old :(

Wow... this is for me:

A while back, I had some modest suggestions for ways that Starbucks could improve its service and ambience. One of them was to acquire some large, placid cats that would sit on the laps of customers who chose the cat option, purring and settling down for a good nap.

Nothing relieves stress like a warm, sleepy cat. And Starbucks customers all need stress reduction, since they are pouring into their bodies uploads of pure stress in liquid form. Cats would provide a sort of break-even option.

Well, turns out, they're doing it in Japan. Not Starbucks, of course; Japanese people. Of course they're doing it in Japan. If it has to do with eccentric ideas for urban living, the Japanese are always 10 years ahead of us. Just deal with it: They're the best.

According to a Reuters news story, pointed out to me by reader Dennis Courtney, there are at least three cat teahouses in greater Tokyo. One of them, the Cat Cafe Calicos, has 14 calico cats (no Siamese need apply) ready to serve customers who want to cuddle up with a cup of tea and a feline friend.

Here's how it works: For about $7 an hour, or $20 for the popular three-hour package, patrons can enter a large room where 14 calicos slumber and wander. Whether any particular cat cottons to a customer is up to the cat, naturally, but connections are certainly made. The litter boxes are out of sight, and six air fresheners keep the air odor free.

Apparently, in Tokyo, tight housing regulations prevent most people from owning cats. These heartbroken urban dwellers now have a place to seek comfort and love that's a whole lot cheaper than a strip club. Such a genius idea.

source: SF Chronicle

I had one of the best yoga sessions in recent memory today. I was exhausted by the end. But, for the first time in a while, I did all the postures and I didn't have weird physical pain. For a while, certain postures would cause my left chest muscles to tighten strangely and I would be gasping to breath and getting very dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Several factors contributed to this. I finally had a really good night's sleep last night - stress in check, no allergy problems. Yelling and verbal extortions just really don't do it for me. It's too bad there's not another yoga studio nearby because the militant attitude of some of the instructors at my studio is starting to grate on me. But today, I was mentally strong to work past all that and just focus on my self.

Over the weekend, I treated myself to a massage. The woman who worked on my really listened during our brief conversation before the massage. She noticed that I cave in my shoulders when I sit - probably trained by all the hours sitting in a cube, so she really focused on relaxing specific chest muscles. It definitely had an effect on me today.

I've learned a good lesson about the combination of exercising the right amount, eating right and getting enough rest. I guess I was rather overdoing the first given the poor types of food I was eating and the last of enough rest. I seem to pack on fat pretty easily. So I'll try to mentally focus on the fitness and not freak out about the bulge that's crept back.

You yawn when you are tired. I don't know more about the biological impulses behind the action. Lately, as I drive home late in the evening from work, I've been beset by a series of yawns that feel as though my brain were absolutely thirsty for oxygen. And no matter how wide I open my mouth or how deep I draw in the breath, it doesn't feel enough. I open my mouth immediately for another deep draw of a breath.

One of the first things I learned in yoga was to relearn how to breath. I got used to very shallow breaths because of allergies. Also, when you sit at a cube all day, hunched over a keyboard, your body naturally contours into itself, further inhibiting the breath. Yoga reminds me to open up my chest and breath. For a while, going to class was enough to be reminded of that lesson. But the last month has been so stressful that I guess it's no longer the case. I'll take these yawns as a sign from my body that I need to take it easier and remember: relax, breath.

It's about that time of the year when I'm really tired of wearing boots and big coats. I just spent unnecessary amounts of time ogling pretty sandals online. Gladiators and Grecian seem to be back. It's all wide straps and sandals that manage to bandage you up the ankle while still providing minimal coverage. The good thing is, I didn't buy any (except for the pair of flip flops for gym showers because I managed to lose both my flips and K's running shoes when I left them in the rental car that I returned last week :(...)

There is no point in buying clothing and shoes when they just sit at home in Seattle while I travel with my limited luggage space for work. So, instead, I now spend money of FOOD :D California is fabulous for food shopping. There is such an abundance of beautiful looking produce of every variety. I love it!

Technically, I have President's Day off... but the reality is that I have a go live in one week - so this wasn't a free long weekend by any means. Today, however, has managed to become a sort of the meandering where-did-the-time-go type of day that just becomes so relaxing if one manages to let go the awaiting duties and just enjoy and soak up the sunshine. I ran a bit, went to the gym and did some weights, finally took care of the overgrown brows and just got back from an amazing shopping trip at the organics-store-that-shall-not-be-named where I managed to pick up a ton of random stuff and completely forgot the one item that originated the grocery pit stop. At least I came home with a packet of long stemmed ginormous beautifully red fresh strawberries. Yum. I can't wait to eat them.

Maybe it's just a matter of familiarity, but I just find myself having not much to say when I am on project in the US. My day is very structured, consisting of four things: k, work, commute and gym/yoga. Working in the South Bay and living in Berkeley makes for a killer commute. Most of the other cars on the road are SOVs like me - I feel terrible. Right now, it takes anywhere from 40 min to an hour and half. I spend the time in the car listening to a lot of NPR on my iPod. The result is that if I want to do anything interesting, it waits until the weekend.

Life is really great right now, but pretty insular. There is a diverse range of people to spend time with in the Bay Area - I just don't have the time to become more then acquaintances with them - which is a real bummer. Friday night, we spent some time at a dinosaur themed Valentine's party in SF. I loved the apartment. It's incredibly cute and chic and homey.

After a month of driving up and down the Bay Area, one thing is confirmed for me: you Californian drivers are IDIOTS who need to f***** go back to Driver's Ed class.

Rule #1: LOOK before you decide to suddenly veer into another person's lane.
Rule #2: Try turning on the stupid blinker every once in a while. It's for your own safety as well as those of others sharing the freeway with you.
Rule #3: If you are in the left lane and you are neck-to-neck with the car in the lane to the right of you, either speed up and move over or slow down and get behind your buddy. There is no reason to have a 5 car lockstep going down the freeway, ever.
Rule #4: If you can't manage to keep your eye on the road and talk at the same time, GET OFF YOUR PHONE!!!

But if you can only remember ONE thing, try to remember this: FUCKING LOOK BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO SWITCH LANES!!!!!!!!!

Dumbass.

I've become a very defensive driver as a result of all these idiots and I'm still convinced that I will not leave here without at least one accident on the freeway. The worst is when you have the 3 lane scenario and both cars on the outside lane decide to switch into the middle lane at the same time. This happens at least once or twice on a daily basis. Usually neither car bothered to signal. I've learned to turn on my blinker at least 10 seconds before I am going to make a move, check the lane I am turning into, AND check the lane next to the lane I am turning into before I will attempt to switch lanes. And yet.... I STILL HAVE FUCKING IDIOTS WHO DECIDE TO ALSO SWITCH LANES AT THE SAME TIME WITHOUT LOOKING AND ALMOST CRASH INTO ME!!!!!!!!!

Today was the third time. So excuse my French. It was the closest call and I am still shaking.

This came over e-mail from a friend:

Title:
Assistant to "high level Chinese celebrity/philanthropist."

Area of Focus:
film, non-profit (in order of work priority)

Location: Based in Asia

Job Description:
You are invited to explore the opportunity to learn and work with high level Chinese celebrity/philanthropist and learn the inner workings of the film industry in both the United States and China. The majority of work will involve hands-on involvement in building a world-class foundation from the grounds up. This will involve meetings with numerous high-level business and government officials to build and develop philanthropy in China and on a worldwide basis.

Employee will perform all the usual and customary duties of a personal assistant, including, but not limited to, review and respond to correspondence; scheduling appointments; translation of conversations and correspondence; organizing personal matters; and other duties that may be assigned.

Please visit one-foundation.com to better understand the world of this high level Chinese celebrity/philanthropist.

Desired qualifications:
-Fluent in Mandarin Chinese and English
-Degree from top-tier university with high GPA
-At least 2 years of work experience in consulting, banking, a large multinational, studio or equivalent experience
-Strong attention to detail
-Strong analytical ability
-Ability to follow through with projects and follow instructions as given
-Ability to travel frequently (50%)

The thing that gets me is this:
-At least 2 years of work experience in consulting, banking, a large multinational, studio or equivalent experience

If you've had a successful career so far in those areas... why would you quit, after two years, to go be the lackey of an actor? (Albeit, a huge, successful, internationally renowned actor)...

My ability to set off the fire alarm and burn things in the kitchen is just amazing. I just tried to boil some water for a cup of tea. Somehow, I have managed to melt the cap that sits on the spout of the kettle. The kitchen is a stink of smoky plastic haze and drippy metal parts. How does one even do that!?!?!