Connie's Blog

Belated Carter welcome home things

2012-01-24T00:20:00.000-08:00

Carter: I told the other missionaries about how when I called home and said I had yellow fever
Carter: NOBODY laughed.
Carter: That was probably the most awkward moment of my life
Carter: Nancy was just like "seriously?"

(All pictures taken from Nancy's blog.)

Me: Want to watch a funny Youtube video?
Carter: is it like an "I'm a Mormon video?"
Me: Kind of

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;gt;CarterI just want to...</p>
Carter: I just want to...
Carter: Read my scriptures. And get married.

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo

2012-01-23T21:43:00.000-08:00

I turn 23 on Friday. I was born in Buffalo. The subject of this blog post is a grammatically valid sentence.

my brother is home.

2012-01-20T17:51:00.000-08:00

life is a lot funnier.

As it turns out, I didn't want to go nine months later

2012-01-06T09:56:00.000-08:00

I love journals. Almost one year ago:

1/13/2011
Me: IT COSTS 160 DOLLARS TO TAKE THE GRE?
Me: WHAT IF I DONT' REALLY WANT TO GO TO GRAD SCHOOL
Todd: this kind of reminds me of the office episode when Michael wants to adopt a baby
Todd: and Pam says it costs a few thousand dollars and will take 6-9 months
Todd: then michael says I probably wont even want a baby in 9 months

I have a stomachache from too much zucchini

2012-01-03T19:31:00.000-08:00

I love diet soda. When I drink juice or regular soda it makes my blood sugar spike and I act like a cracked out Rachel Ray, but without the helpful household tips.

-Mindy Kaling, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?

Eunice gave me that book for Christmas. It is excellent.

Thoughts of the last hour:

I was listening to the radio and had to choose between continued coverage of the Iowa Caucus on NPR and Katie Perry's Firework and in a slight panic I just turned off the radio and listened to nothing.
I left for a week and a half and my orange juice is still good. Sweet. Deal.
Lately, food isn't salty enough and I wondering if my tastebuds are deadening with age.
I am for strict governance of one's digital information, especially on Facebook, but only to the point where my sister and I can still look at the wedding photos of strangers.
I didn't understand this clip from Saturday Night Live at all.

Here are some unrelated photos that in my opinion are better than usual. In the sentimental sense.

New baby is a mama's girl and won't smile with me the same way she smiles with Sister.

But she'll also hang with me and Old Baby in the really small Princess Tent.

Old baby is. Well, old.

2011-12-27T22:19:00.000-08:00

Me: But one of the best parts of my day was when I woke up and just stayed in bed and read and ate chocolate.
Dad: That's...
-pause-
Dad: Corrupt.

I got this delicious bar of lavender Belgian chocolate for Christmas. The packaging sounds like the English on Chinese stationary:

"Nature is at the heart of everything. Newtree is inspired by nature to innovate and surprise."

The chocolates are made in Belgium but it's distributed by a company in San Anselmo, so I suppose the Engrish sounding packaging is a product of a hippie nature and not from it's foreignness.

notetaking

2011-12-26T22:59:00.000-08:00

Me: What is proper "I'm dating a Laker fan and they just lost" etiquette.
Nancy: You don't say reasonable things like "it's just a game" or "the Lakers can't always win every game" or "maybe it's just not an era of Laker dominance.
Nancy: Nor do you point out things like "Kobe is getting old. Plus he's probably distracted by the divorce."
Nancy: Or "Phil Jackson is gone."
Nancy: You say things like "the refs were terrible" and "this is all David Stern's fault for killing that trade" and "what idiot traded Lamar Odom for nothing. NOTHIN."
Nancy: The underlying premise is: The Lakers should win. If the Lakers lose, everything that contributed to the loss must be vehemently denounced.

, LA to LA, + 10

2011-11-27T17:20:00.000-08:00

I went to Louisiana, then to Nancy's house for Thanksgiving. Returned an hour and a half ago. That is enough travelling for the moment, thanks.

Okay okay so ten year post this should be momentous but I am ill-prepared. Remember 2004? That was a good year. Here is a picture of me and new baby.

Also, I know I'm about as late to the game as it gets, but over the weekend I have come to the realization that I am staunchly Team Jacob.

Disjoint thoughts unrelated to Thanksgiving, though I am very thankful

2011-11-23T08:32:00.000-08:00

Ice in your tomato juice is gross. I know, I know. Rookie traveler mistake. Tomato juice is in and of itself is a strange experience. I wanted to microwave my juice and place it aside a grilled cheese sandwich, but I was on a plane and lacked the necessary ingredients and tools to do so. I’m not taking full blame for this though, the flight attendant just handed me the drink, as if she were unaware that the experience would conjure up an experience akin to what I imagine a wet frozen spaghetti smoothies taste like.

Next Sunday will be the ten-year mark of this blog. I am quickly approaching the point where this blog will be more than half of my age. Hold on let me think about it:

10--22
11--23
12--24

Okay, quickly approaching as in a few years from now. Still. If my blog were a child, it would be in the fifth grade. It can walk home from the bus by itself and probably would have its own COPPA-incompliant Facebook page by now.

Other things that have been on my mind:

Cal has been in the news a lot lately. It’s been (being?) occupied. My favorite salad place (everyone’s favorite salad place, actually. ALC refuses to purchase salads unless you can achieve the economies of scale that Café Intermezzo provides) burned down, the same building that housed the pub where DB and I would often get food before our class on Thursdays. The food was good, but it was also just an immensely satisfying feeling to hand them your ID for access inside. That, and a shooting on campus. Oh and an incendiary bake sale, but by now that is old news. It happened after I graduated, yet when I typed in keywords into SFGate so I could link to something, there were no results found within the last 30 days, and I had to redo the settings on my search. Ooooollld news. I am of a time before old news.

Every time news breaks, Facebook explodes with Daily Cal, Berkleyside, SFGate, Twitter updates. But the chatter isn’t from friends who are still at Cal. It’s all Cal graduates. Sharing the news when you’re living the news is different. You just turn to the person next to you and say “that building over there is on fire,” and the other person nods. It's not the same as I sit here at my computer and try to keep up with all the news that is happening not even and hour and a half from here I think “how is all this happening the semester after I graduated.”

Which makes me think about ALC's comment from before:

Being in a cubicle is like an efficiency hamster wheel and warps your view on the world and how other people do things other than respond to emails.

I kind of agree. Don't get me wrong. I really like my cubicle. It’s a big, well-lit cubicle. But the view from here is limited. You can’t see the fire or the protests or the post-eviction tents hanging by balloons on the steps of Sproul Hall. So when a tweet brings breaking news, and I have that all-too-familiar visceral reaction that is part pride, part concern, part uncertainty, I am now surrounded by cubicle walls, not fellow bears. And so my fellow recent graduates and I are desperately throwing articles at each other, creating conversation, trying to stay abreast of what’s going on through the internet and social media discussion channels. And it’s not the same, but it’s all we’ve got.

Okay so Thanksgiving. My life is really good. I will probably eat a lot this week. And spend time with my favorite people. Which will include Like a six-hour ride drive to Southern California with my roommate and my parents, commencing later today.

This Luna bar is really good.

I...I don't know.

2011-11-14T16:59:00.000-08:00

Mom: Do you have a rice cooker in your apartment?
Me: No
Mom: Then how do you cook?

Work trip II

2011-11-13T18:09:00.000-08:00

I can see Indiana from my window. (Adriane, did you see me waving?) I have 1927 miles to go before I'm back in San Francisco, after 5 days in D.C. This is the third time that I've flown Virgin America. And it's the first time I haven't fallen asleep at the beginning start of the flight. Turns out it's not that snacks are only given out when I'm sleeping. They don't pass out snacks period. Seriously. Why does no one factor that into their airline choice calculation? Yeah Virgin has wi-fi, but if you want peanuts, they're for purchase. Actually that's a lie. If you want peanuts, too bad. They don't sell peanuts.

So I pull up the airplane menu every once in a while, scrolling through it, but choosing nothing. It's like opening and closing the refrigerator door. (I think I reference an old blog-post in every new blog post. I think the problem with blogging for ten years is that I have run out of unique thoughts and will have to just recycle old ones) I didn't realize that I still had that habit until this past weekend. I stayed with my old roommates and I frequently opened the fridge, even though it's not my refrigerator anymore and I didn't have any food in it.

I have a Clif bar in my backpack but it's kind of my emergency food rations, and I'm not really hungry, I was just expecting a snack. Plus, the only reason the bar has lasted as my emergency food ration is because I don't really like Clif Bars. I had an 18 Rabbits bar in there too, but I ate that already.

It's really cold

2011-11-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have been eating about every two waking hours for the past three days. I would bet the farm several times over that my evolutionary instincts have kicked in and I am preparing for hibernation.

Simon says my pictures never relate to the content of my post

2011-10-20T12:51:00.000-07:00

Kickin' in the front seat

Sittin' in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

I know this song is quoted and played and tongue-in-cheeked to death, but I sincerely feel that Rebecca Black (By the way one of the girls in the Rebecca Black video got her own blog on the Huffington Post) succinctly described the real world seating dilemma that I was about to face as I prepared to leave Chicago.

In case you were wondering, (no one is wondering) I didn’t make my mind up and ended up going to the airport by metro, not taxi. It’s a straight shot, comparably timed during rush hour, and the fare card I purchased had a $5 minimum and I only needed half of that to get to lunch.

Crisis averted.

, business in the back

2011-10-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

So at about 5:00pm CDT today, I was four hours into my first work trip, if you include the four hour plane ride. I get a cab, toss my bag in the trunk, and sit down, feeling confident in my ability to get myself to the hotel and on my way.

Blank hotel, I told the driver.
Okay, he said.
So...He paused.
You want to sit in the front?

I sat in the front because I forgot that people sit in the back of cabs. I don't really take cabs. Choosing the front seat was not only a force of habit but a force from a determination to be grown-up. After all, the front passenger seat is a signal of grown-updom, signifying a certain age a certain height and a certain standing in the pecking order in the family seating chart. Taking a back seat is a regression--it's even an idiom for the relinquishment of power. Why would I sit in the back?

I smiled the the driver, and said "sure" a little sheepishly, he laughed at me and we made conversation all the way to the hotel. At some point he had me take his phone and comment and "like" a picture on Facebook for him.

The next test is the cab drive back to the airport. I'll let you know how it goes.

I wrote this post on September 28

2011-10-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

but was interrupted halfway and didn't get around to finishing it.

I was at a work function the other day, and someone said to me something to the effect of, "but you'd know better than we would, because you're in the Valley."

That was an exciting moment. Like my location grants me the ability to speak authoritatively on the entire technology industry from here on out. That feels empowering. Buy sell buy sell buy sell. It's true though. Like all that is stereotypically true of D.C. and keeping your pulse on the political scene, discussion of technology news runs rampant. Though calling it "the Valley" still makes me think about that one scene in Clueless where Cher goes to a party and can't get back home in time because she's too far from Beverly Hills.

Thoughts on the valley:

It is very flat. A friend and I ran 5 miles yesterday like it was nothing. It felt like a testament to inertia, as a kick of the feet in the right direction can push you toward unlimited mileage.

I just looked outside and saw that it was raining, and my first thought was "crap I hope this doesn't affect the traffic on the 101." I have a very real fear of collision and of wasted time on the freeway.

On the bright side I am well acquainted once again with KQED, and feel better equipped to discuss tree frogs or mayoral candidates.

Example of the step-by-step induction into adulthood that I am experiencing:
Me: May I please have a small hot chocolate with non-fat milk.
Barista: You can just say non-fat
Me: What?
Barista: You can just say "non-fat hot chocolate."
Me: Oh.

Thoughts on the apartment:
One of my roommates and I have the same toothbrush, but hers is green and mine is blue. Or it might be other other way around. Crap. I'm sure I know which one it is, but I have to be in my bathroom and holding my hand over toothbrush cup to know. It's a muscle memory thing, I think. I am extremely concerned that a repeat of the toothbrush sharing incident of 2006 will be repeated. (1, I can't believe that was 5 years ago, 2, I can't believe I have a record of that. I love this blog) I want to ask my roommate when she gets home so we can double check, but I'm afraid that if we are using the same toothbrush, it's going to turn out that I've been using hers, and that would be pretty awkward.

I like it in the city when the air is so thick and opaque

2011-09-08T16:49:00.001-07:00

I am in the process of moving. South. Not that southward. South of the bay. Starting New Life, not to be confused with Old Life not to be confused with College Life. The entire process has me in all sorts of panic. I love San Francisco. I am obsessed with San Francisco. I would defriend its sister on Facebook in a fit of tears if it ever did me wrong. But it would never do me wrong with its cool breeze and walkable nature and so why would I ever leave it?

I also love my parents. Granted, I’ve been complaining about moving back home, but they are hilarious and good to me and tolerate the bratty that comes with the return. My dad and I are currently at odds over whether or not I'm funny. He doesn’t believe me when I say I can be funny. So rather than prove him wrong I just kind of stand there and insist I am. Our conversations are something to the effect of:

Me: No dad, really. Some people think I'm funny.
Dad: Oh. Like, a good sense of humor?
Me: No, like sometimes I say funny things
Dad: Really?

Anyway. There are draws but there are definitely shortcomings. Summer is ending, taking along with it the feeling of invincibility associated with long days, which makes spending 2+ hours on the road more taxing. Going to work in the dark is depressing. I’ve started calculating my commute in Planet Money podcasts, approximately 17 minutes of succinct and simple economics (I would also defriend Planet Money’s sister on Facebook should our relationship ever go South). On Tuesday it took five Planet Moneys to get to work. My new move is less than a podcast away.

So there are tons of perks to moving that I'm excited about. My new roommate is lovely. I like the sun. I like having a space of my own. I like new addresses. We live close to grocery stores. The lease is signed. There’s no turning back.

And so, here we go new life.

Twitter, Life, Dilbertesque thoughts, Unrelated photo

2011-08-24T18:24:00.001-07:00

(For those unfamiliar with the issue, let the Chronicle catch you up)

Mom: The MUNI has been so crowded with all the protestors taking over the stations. Why are they there?

Me: They're protesting a shooting by a BART policeman.

Mom: Why are the protestors at the MUNI station? Why not just BART?

Me: It's the same stations downtown

Mom: I know. So why don't they just go to one of the freestanding BART stations and not bother those of us who need to take the MUNI?

On another note, the recent BART protests have given me respect for Twitter and crowd-sourcing of information. I was stuck downtown amidst the closures and people updating their Twitters about station closures and openings far outpaced the BART updates. It's obviously nothing new, but I hadn't had firsthand experience before.

Annnnnd I've been boring. For months. I'm sorry. Is that what happens when you start working? You run out of things to blog about? I like San Francisco. I like my job. I even like my cubicle. So I'll leave you with AL's thoughts on the matter instead. And a picture of me and Baby I.

Subj: So now I get

Why people like advisors or supervisors would get so annoyed when I wouldn't respond to emails. Being in a cubicle is like an efficiency hamster wheel and warps your view on the world and how other people do things other than respond to emails.

Also what was it that you did that you were proud of yourself for that you wanted to tell someone about? I have one too so we can share. Please respond to that in a separate email so that we can keep our chains organized, please. I will have a hamster wheel breakdown otherwise. Also... To clarify... This is the "so now I get" email chain....

I also never understood the attractiveness to twitter. It always seemed like such an awkward thing to post every smart thought you have all the time instead of just telling someone. But when you're in the hamster wheel you're surrounded by panel and want someone to validate your thinking. As long as there are cubicles twitter will live forever.

I also get why people sign emails with phrases like best/take care/regards it's totally cubicle salutation spit.

Warmly,

Office tool # 67491635481615254758

Walking on the beach

2011-08-08T22:25:00.001-07:00

Dad: Connie, when you see a couple holding hands or getting very close on the street, what do you do, keep walking, or avoid them?

Me: Uh. I guess I walk faster then pass them, so it doesn't look like I'm watching them?

Dad: No. You avoid them. They might be lying.

Me: What?

Dad: You don't know that they're a couple. They might be just be pretending. And when you walk by, they'll rob you.

I have a long torso though

2011-07-28T15:31:00.000-07:00

In order to be ergonomically correct, my work desk was lowered to adjust for my height. As it turns out, that’s so low, my cabinet won’t fit under it anymore and now it kind of just sticks out awkwardly.

Bear in mind, this happened over text, and what information I did give was incorrect.

2011-07-27T17:13:00.000-07:00

Why DB and I stay friends always:

Me: What is that song “something something something stereo. oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh something in the stereo.”

DB: I actually hadn’t heard of it, but it’s called “stereo hearts” by gym class heroes featuring adam levine
Me: how the heck did you figure that out
DB: I just googled “oh oh oh oh stereo.”

Two things that I like

2011-07-26T21:25:00.001-07:00

1) Lifehacker.

2) AccidentalChineseHipsters.Tumblr.com.

I wish,

1) This was what we looked at when we went to the eye doctor.
2) This was what we looked at on our way to the eye doctor.

Why is this the first I"ve heard of this show

2011-07-23T17:31:00.001-07:00

From the San Francisco Chronicle...

...on the new CBS reality series, "Same Name," whose concept is pretty obvious from the show's title: People with the same name as celebrities get to trade places with them for a few days.

Someone get my agent on the phone. Actually, the other Connie Chung's agent.

Dad?

2011-07-23T16:52:00.000-07:00

Dad: Yes?

Me: Is that a phonebook?

Dad: Yes.

The VCR broke

2011-07-20T22:35:00.001-07:00

And it's not like we're going to get a new one.

I was thinking we should pass on our tapes to someone who still has a working VCR. And there can be a rapid funneling of tapes until the last person with a working VCR says "ENOUGH. That is enough tapes." and that's the end of that, except maybe then we start doing that with DVDs.

RIP, VCR. May you flash 12:00 forever in heaven.

Body and mind

2011-07-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

My most productive times are from 4-8am, and 8-11:30 pm. I don't know if that is related to an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex, but if only I could somehow figure out how to sleep between those times, with an additional nap during the day. The other issue with this is that I'm an extrovert, and want people around during my waking hours. So I need to befriend someone who keeps to those hours, or convince others to join me in bucking the hours.

I just remembered Adriane is in Finland and her light hours would be conducive to this behavior.

There's a salad bar at work and whenever I get a salad I add quinoa and raise my fists in the air and say "I don't have to eat meat today" even though I actually like meat and may possible eat some that day anyway. It's just nice to be free from the confines of another animal. That doesn't really make sense because I'm not sure how the animal is confining me in its dead carcass state but all the same. Also the fist pump + declaration are in my mind, so don't worry.

I passed two kids and adult supervision and their charity lemonade stand on the way back from work today. My heart went out to them and their attempt to build a classic childhood memory when it's 60 degrees and foggy out. It was only a quarter and I stopped to buy a cup, fully intending on making some sort of donation beyond the quarter, as Dixie cups are expensive these days. But given the choice between a quarter and a five dollar bill, I gave them the quarter, because the other thing about urban lemonade stands is that they operate exclusively with powder mixes and I doubt much sweat and blood went into the stirring process. But I asked them to only fill it up halfway, in the hopes that there will be more lemonade..powder to give to more generous benefactors. And actually I only drank like four sips. I think it was Crystal Light. Gross.

I usually read over what I write just to see if there are typos, but this will have to be more stream of conscious as I am exhausted and will probably be waking up at 5:30am again tomorrow. Which is actually what I picked up the computer to write about initially, actually. Hmn. How do I end up where I am?

Pan-optic

2011-07-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

The scene: A dirty little dustpan. A wayward piece of poop, freshness and animal source indeterminate. No trick of the camera angle (it was also taken from my phone so that would have been an impressive feat anyway), they are mere inches from each other. Discovered en route to the Muni stop.

The question: What came first, the pan or the poop? The two are too close to have landed near each other by accident.

Options as I see them:

1) The poop. An inconsiderate dog-owner let his pup shoot for the street, and did nothing to remedy the fact. An angry neighbor sees the mess and thrust his little dust pan as a sign of wrath.

2) The pan. A neurotic homeowner finally tires of the task of sweeping the sidewalk of dirt with a tiny dustpan and broom. He runs off, broom in hand, but leaves the pan behind. A dog-walking (still inconsiderate) individual tries to guide his dog to hit the pan. He fails.

3) Simultaneous pan-poop placement. Anytime a situation feels out of the ordinary for me I look around to see if I'm part of a social experiment. Where are the hidden cameras? What do you think they were testing? Should I have grabbed the shovel and scooped? Nudged the pan in the direction of the poop? Hopefully what the intended effect was to have someone walk by, backtrack, take a picture, then continue walking. I passed that test, thanks for watching, be sure to debrief later.

Hey June

2011-06-19T13:55:00.000-07:00

I wanted a chocolate-chip cookie all week. I walked by a table laden with cookies with at least the appearance of fresh-baked goodness on Monday, and I knew. It had to be chocolate chip. Even if chocolate-chip is not my usual cookie of choice, what I saw was a chocolate chip cookie and what I needed was a chocolate-chip cookie. It had to be the right balanced of a hard-edge with a soft-center. Chewy, but not oppressively so. But the day got away from me and I didn't have a cookie. The next day when I walked to the cafe, they were out of cookies and had only sesame seed bagels and cocoa rice krispy treats. I had a krispy treat. Begrudgingly. It wasn't until Thursday. Glorious Thursday, that I went and got a cookie before work even started, contemplating eating it before breakfast but saving it until a more acceptable hour for a mid-morning snack.

When the time came I picked up the cookie and I swear it glimmered in the sunlight. That may have been the saran wrap covering the cookie--a sure sign of freshness above vacuum-sealing. I ceremoniously unwrapped the cookie and ate it.

It wasn't very good. Is that too obvious of a conclusion, that a baked good could not satisfy week-long expectations and hopes and dreams within its crunchy-disk form? I don't think I really like chocolate-chip cookies. I think I like the idea of chocolate-chip cookies. It was such a jarring moment, a testament to the power of suggestibility that I stood up and got a rice krispy treat. A plain one, 85 cents for what I knew before was my favorite baked good (or, whatever you call it) and it was great. The kind of chewy and crunch but light and airy that I love.

This is really kind of just a long introduction to explain that in my newly developed strong conviction for rice krispy treats, I made two pans of the Smitten Kitchen salted brown butter crispy rice treats yesterday, This recipe is very. good. The first batch I made turned out okay, the second was awesome. One for a welcome-back dinner for a friend, the other...well, I usually have rice for dinner. Tonight was no different.

Tomorrow is Monday. I am excited for a new week for its constancy. I felt a lot of uncertainty in the months leading up to graduation and the weeks following it. There's still a lot of variability in life, in an exciting "world is my oyster" way, and I'm satisfied with a number of the decisions and goals that I've made. And to bring this all together, in a way that I wasn't intending to but am going to do anyway (not everything you eat has to have a moral, you know) maybe I'll end up with chocolate-chip cookies or cheesecake or fruitcake or oysters and maybe I'll hate it all but maybe I'll find something new, or end up with stronger feelings for what I like, but it's development either way, right?

Right.

Good effort, though

2011-05-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

Nancy: In an effort to combat gender stereotypes I bought Lia a tool workshop at a garage sale

But she thinks she's cooking

Like she's hammering

and then she told me she's making pancakes

Graduation post

2011-05-21T10:45:00.001-07:00

Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please;

they do not make it under circumstances of their own choosing,

but under circumstances existing already,

given and transmitted from the past.

-Karl Marx

There's something to be said about decontextualized truisms. I'm not a Marxist. Immediately following the passage I'm quoting, Marx clarifies that he's talking about revolutionaries borrowing spirits of historical predecessors, and describes heroism as just past traditions repossessed. Interesting thought. Contextually, Marx is accusatory, but in his introductory paragraphs, neatly sums up the plight of individuals pushing against the socio-economic landscape that they are born into.

I choose the latter interpretation. Like I said, I'm not a Marxist. And I think it perfectly describes the overarching theme of my undergraduate experience. It's a reminder of the unlimited capacity we have as individuals and the unavoidable constraints of past histories and where you are born. Berkeley teaches empathy--sometimes prescribing solutions, other times, just challenging us to consider the power dynamic and advantages individuals are operating under when making decisions.

I think this lens is apolitical. And I hope it's one that I can maintain in the years to come, especially with the understanding that I have been blessed with ideal circumstances and a wonderful family.

Yay, life.

Dear Finals

2011-05-11T10:45:00.000-07:00

Johanna: did you see the new chrome ad?
with the little girl?

Me: nope. dear sophie?

Johanna: yes!!
you must watch
10:41 AM
Me: i am crying
10:42 AM
But i also stayed up all night studying. So that may be why.
Johanna: no I cried too
Johanna: and I sleep a lot

I have the greatest sister ever.

2011-05-06T00:24:00.000-07:00

Who stays up late reading the final draft of my thesis.

Even with a plane in the morning and two crazy chilluns to care for.

She does a lot of other things well too.

But anyway.

I get the distinction I have given her excludes me from the running.

But I stand by it.

Today was the last day of instruction for the rest of my undergraduate career

2011-04-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

I ran out of shampoo, body wash, face wash and lotion in the same week. The moment coincided nicely with a bout of senioritis, and I think my toiletries came together in mutiny, as if to say "We are finished. You are finished! We will empty ourselves to signify your need to transition elsewhere."

But instead I bought new things. The mutiny was ill-timed. Graduation is still three weeks away, and three papers, a thesis and three finals are still hanging over my head. I would like to shower in the interim.

I also sprang for the big containers of shampoos and body wash. Not only because I appreciate the economies of scale that it provides, but because I'll be around to use them with minimal transportation inconveniences. I'm staying local. Relatively. Most likely moving to the South Bay. I have been incredibly, incredibly blessed with an opportunity for work at a great company with a subject that I have interest in.

Life is good and I know it.

I'm using the standing computer at the library to see if there's an increase in productivity

2011-04-19T13:25:00.001-07:00

I want to spend the rest of my life in a flowering tree. I stopped LB twice on our morning run today so I could take phone pictures of flowering branches and new blossoms on our route. I do love spring. I also love our route, but I feel like that is a sentiment worthy of its own post.

For me, another indicator of spring is the preponderance of Asian tourists taking pictures of themselves with campus landmarks. Taking college tours when you're not looking at colleges has to be a cultural thing that my parents subscribe to. Have you ever been to Purdue? I have.

I am so serious

2011-04-12T15:25:00.000-07:00

Okay so I think I have beef stock-induced sleepiness. Will explore later, but boy is it damning.

End goals

2011-04-09T12:53:00.000-07:00

If you eat the less-appealing side of the bread loaf as soon as you open the bread, it will not be a barrier to better pieces of bread in your future sandwich-making endeavors. However, if you move the side piece every time you take out a piece of bread, eventually you will have two end pieces at a time when there are no other options, and your enjoyment of the end-piece will be compounded by your appreciation that you have bread at all.

Here, take my browsing habits

2011-04-06T12:53:00.000-07:00

I’m hoarding my New York Times allotted articles for the month in manner that is bordering on psychotic. A-L sent me a Media-Decoder article on Glenn Beck’s departure from his show [DON’T CLICK IF YOU KNOW IT'LL WASTE ONE OF YOUR ARTICLES], and as I clicked I glanced at the link, which included the subject of the article and I realized I had already heard this story so I frantically closed the window in a “clickclickclick” manner, as if my speed and fervency would absolve me from credit usage. (I think among other things, the lesson we can learn here is that you should be aware of what links you choose to click, because you never know what sort of malware the sender may be intentionally or unintentionally transmitting with each email.)

Luckily, the Nieman Journalism Lab (Whose blog, by the way, has become my absolute favorite blog of all time) directed me to the new Atlantic “Trimming the Times” feature, which gives recommendations on what pieces may be worth drawing from your pool of allotted articles. I think that is a fairly systematic alternative to frothing at the mouth in a dark corner of my room constructing my own NYT wedding announcements for my imaginary heiress and I-banker friends because I can’t waste clicks.

(I'm linking from the Times but I didn't click on the article.)

So I’ve trying to figure out my news diet. Google News trending stories. A little more Christian Science Monitor, a little more Wall Street Journal. More blogs. This may be the recipe for creating a balanced diet of news sources and opinion pieces.

The other alternative I've been mulling over is to purchase a subscription. This is not out of the question. But my parents for as long as I can remember have subscribed to 3+ newspapers. The San Francisco Chronicle, The Wall Street Journal, and one or two Chinese newspapers. How much overlap would the Times give? How much guilt would I have from failing to read news that I purchased, especially this semester when 85% of the time I just skim headlines anyway?

Moreover, why scheme or stress when the paywall is easy to circumvent? But I don’t want to circumvent it. And this isn’t because of an earnest belief in digital copyright, but because of an earnest desire to keep the Times alive. Clearly the spirit of the paywall isn’t to keep me out of news but to make me pay for the work that goes into creating the content. In the months leading up to the paywall, I have mentally supported its implementation and hoped for its success, in the hope that journalism as a force of democracy can maintain its financial viability.

So I don’t want to buy subscription but I don’t want the paper to die and really I just want to click on ads (for the past two years I’ve been clicking on ads in the hope that advertisers will see increases in conversion rates and the Times would be able to stay afloat without charging for content.) or farm my IP address and spending habits out to telemarketers. But as that is not an option considering the costs of quality journalism, I need to make a decision. And I will make it.

Later. I still have like 12 articles left for the month.

Today was productive

2011-04-05T00:15:00.001-07:00

Today for lunch I had zucchini and salmon on top of a bagel. I've decided that food atop toast or a half a bagel, rather than compartmentalized on the plate, gives the feeling of brunch, La Note rather than Denny's. My toast last week, with its balsamic onions stacked on sauteed spinach sitting on an egg-over-easy looked legitimate, and I had a realization that its authenticity stems not from my culinary skills but from the fact that brunch is just breakfast we inexplicably pay $12 for.

I initially wanted to post with details of my day. I cleaned my room, I did internship work, I did thesis work, I caught up with an old friend. But I realized I just wanted to bask in the glory of accurately predicting a #3 seed to take the championship, and once again reigning supreme in the world of March Madness.

Good world, good night.

What's at stake

2011-04-03T21:50:00.000-07:00

I picked UConn to go all the way, and will win both my brackets, assume presidency of the United States, become stake president within my local church unit, and for the second out of the past three years, dominate the Institute's March Madness, should UConn win the championship tomorrow.

I think that's how it works, at least.

If UConn takes it all, I'll beat President Obama

2011-03-28T07:48:00.000-07:00

March 21 (6 days ago)

Me: How the heck are you doing worse than me

Adriane: I entered the LOST numbers. it's bad luck.

March 27 (14 hours ago)

Michael:

Basketball Fans,
Standings as of the end of the Elite Eight are posted below.
Fun fact: Adrian Pontecorvo in a bout of extreme inspiration did pick VCU to be in the final four.

March 27 (8 hours ago)

Nancy (after winning both her brackets):

March madness is so beautiful

kentucky vs uconn was a hard one for me
but my reasoning was
uncle peter teaches there
and i like that shade of blue better
so i picked kentucky
and i picked kentucky over ohio state
because i don't like their stupid mascot
it's a beautiful thing

My professor said "Behemoth"

2011-03-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

It was the first time I had heard that word since coming back from D.C., so my ears perked up, but "behemoth" was followed by "of culture, designed by people who own the means of production," and my reality was sufficiently in check.

I had another "I am a product of a liberal education system" moment recently. About school lunches, no less, which you would think, pre-healthy schools initiatives, with its tater tots, processed meat patties and starchy white bread buns, would be the lowest common denominator of the American educational experience among the 18-24 crowd. But apparently getting milk in a plastic bag that you have to puncture with your straw wasn't standard practice in other elementary schools.

(Flickr's Pinkbeltrage)

The idea was that a compressed bag would take up less space in a landfill, but once attitudes of plastic bags changed, someone in a decision-making position reinstated cartons.

I'm auditing a Graduate Theological Union class this semester. My professor told the class that to receive a liberal education is to receive the ability to "hold discordant ideas in your head." a task that institutions such as Berkeley have failed.

This put me into a panic. I need more time, more classes, more readings to do. I need a better understanding of the opposing forces that underlie the debates of what goes into our school lunches. Maybe Berkeley has failed to give me a liberal education, but maybe I have failed to take a liberal education from Berkeley. Writing a Marxist paper is the path of least resistance (which is actually pretty funny, if you think about it), but in doing so, I think I have developed less my of what sincerely feels like my opinion.

But...we'll see. I'll always have the internet.

I am subject to the dominant ideology of the dominant ideology.

2011-03-08T11:17:00.000-08:00

I appreciate the guy at the downstairs of the East Asian library dancing to the tune of his own synthesized portable electric piano. His audience is smaller than those southward on Sproul Plaza, as the makeshift awning of granite stairs hides him from all but the true fans. No yelling, no conspiracy, just a little bit of song and dance and crazy.

My coupon for free Yogurtland expired

2011-03-07T23:46:00.000-08:00

I have a midterm tomorrow.
I left my box of Samoas at Nancy's house and I still think sadly back at them a few times a day.
Luckily, I am much more than what I eat (or cannot eat) and study for.
My right wrist is way thicker than my left.

This was completely unprovoked

2011-03-05T15:57:00.000-08:00

Nancy: Old Baby just pointed at the Tagalong box in the trash and said "Connie."

I'm just tagging this "mom blog."

2011-02-27T21:23:00.001-08:00

Old Baby: L ...

Old Baby: I ...

Old Baby: Hehe. A!

Old Baby: Eeya!

I'm not as special as I think

2011-02-25T16:40:00.000-08:00

Nancy: she just asked me to sing "happy birthday connie"
me: <3
i love that girl
Nancy: now we're singing happy birthday to my blackberry

Holding it against her

2011-02-23T08:38:00.000-08:00

I've only heard Britney Spears' new "Hold it Against Me" song three times, but every time, it plays in my head in all its catchy splendor for days on end. Darn you, radio at the stationary store on Euclid.

I'm graduating in May, then what?

2011-02-21T23:29:00.000-08:00

me: well it doesn't matter
because from a marxist viewpoint
Nancy: hahahaha you go to berkeley

Nancy: you just said "from a marxist viewpiont"
hahahaha
9:22 PM me: :(
Nancy: what
9:23 PM it's funny
i haven't thought about marxist viewpoints in years

I also love grocery stores

2011-02-12T22:56:00.000-08:00

I wonder if my Safeway purchasing habits are different from those of a six-foot-tall individual. Not only because that person would probably need to consume more calories than me, to support his or her six-feet-tall frame. But because if their eye level is nine inches above mine, they're probably flush with the groceries in the shelf above me. Different brands, different prices, maybe even different food items. I wonder if they're too high above the produce section of the store to see apples and onions. Maybe the wide bins for fruits and vegetables in grocery stores are created this way to accommodate them.

Also, I've grown to love Valentine's Day, and the many forms your Valentine can come in. This gem is from Miss Tori Dumke's Tumblr. And NPR.

Something about little Asian girls

2011-02-08T23:57:00.000-08:00

melts my heart.

Mine

Someone else's

(JWL Photography)

Loyalty Lies

2011-02-07T00:44:00.000-08:00

I watched my first football game about fifteen years ago. San Francisco 49ers against the Green Bay Packers, where we lost to the Packers and missed our chance at the playoffs. I watched it all--four quarters, rapt attention, and was crushed when at the end of the afternoon, we had lost. My impression of the experience was solidified when the next day's Sporting Green in the Chronicle with a picture of a football player I don't remember looking despondent as he exited the field. The caption explained that he was retiring that year and would not have a last chance at a playoff season. Immediately, my heart went out to that guy and my blood boiled with rage at the injustice that had been brought upon him.

That was probably the only NFL game I watched for...eight years, at least. Maybe more. The only non-Superbowl NFL game I have watched in its entirety in my life. And so that became the default football rivalry in my mind. Whenever I am offered the chance to opine on any football preference, I am quick to say "I hate the Packers." Previously coupled with "I hate Brett Favre" and still followed by "I hate those stupid cheese hats." It doesn't even have to be relevant to the conversation. Seahawks in the playoffs? "Man I hate Green Bay." Rioting in the Middle East? "I wish there'd be political unrest in Wisconsin." And that irrational behavior has been my football M.O.

Until Aaron Rodgers came into the picture. I love San Francisco truly and dearly, but my loyalties lie with the California Golden Bears and the Cal Football team, and when our quarterback goes to the Superbowl, you root for that team, until he leads the Packers to a Superbowl victory and takes hold of the MVP spot. You go, Aaron Rodgers. You go.

In other news, I was packing my lunch for tomorrow, excited for the produce that I had on hand, but sad because I lacked a brown, paper, environmentally-unfriendly lunch bag to fill. But just now when I opened up the bottom of the sink, I found one! I don't know why it was there but I will bring it tomorrow and life will be great.

This may not be funny tomorrow

2011-02-03T02:34:00.000-08:00

I was up just now at the institute building. This isn't a nightly ritual, but I managed my time this week poorly, and I have an assignment due tomorrow morning. The UCPD has a great system where if it's past 2am, they will pick you up and drive you to where you need to go. So, once it hit 2am, I decided to take the van back to my house. I couldn't remember the street closest to the building, so I gave them the intersection down the hill. And when they called me twenty minutes later, an automated voice told me that they were waiting and I risked being left if I didn't go there right away. So I got up, bag already packed, ready to dash down the hill. When I realized I didn't have my shoes. And didn't see them around, so I ran into the gym, but still they were nowhere to be found. I was going to be very late and I didn't know what to do and was starting to panic. But then I stopped in my tracks. And declared to myself "This is Berkeley. I don't NEED shoes." And walked barefoot down the hill to the waiting van.

I think it was a good decision.

I like emails from Amy

2011-02-01T21:48:00.000-08:00

When you were in nyc (last year or so?) and visited alisa's ward, she looked up and saw you there and exclaimed, "it's connie chung!" and was of course all excited and happy to see you. but her friends just looked at her awkwardly and said, "um, just because she's asian doesn't mean you can call her connie chung."

Those nursing can be night owls and morning folk

2011-01-31T22:33:00.000-08:00

Nancy: Doesn't it look identical though? Show mommy

Me: dude it's 10:30

Nancy: Ok fine

Nancy: i will show her at 4 am

Act. Age.

2011-01-28T13:53:00.000-08:00

I'm 22. I had an overwhelmingly wonderful day yesterday with well-wishes from lovely people that I adore. (Old Baby sang me happy birthday, New Baby grunted along) The weather was also incredible, I couldn't have asked for more than sunny and 70 in January.

But yes. 22. I didn’t feel any older, but I was reading a Wikipedia page just now and realized that I found a mistake. Then made an edit. That feels grown up. You’re welcome, Credit CARD Act of 2009.

Current apple of my eye

2011-01-19T09:04:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to figure out if I'm a morning person

2011-01-18T11:10:00.000-08:00

Mornings are much more pleasant than nighttime, but impossible to fully enjoy with inadequate sleep. Unfortunately, I am most productive in the after-hours, and as a consequence, cannot categorize myself as an early-riser or a night-owl. I say this because I was going to go for a run this morning, but despite waking up at 6:30am, not to an alarm but to first-day-of-school-excitement, I fell back asleep. And dreamed that a beautiful miniature white thoroughbred horse (This probably stems from seeing Cavalia over winter break) and a huge dog bit my arm. Then a pack of those tiny horses proceeded to chase me up Glendora Avenue despite my cries of help to passersby. Until I found my parents who agreed to take me the hospital, because my arm was bleeding (slightly). But first we had to take my aunt to the airport and eat brunch with their friends. Brunch was delicious, but my fear that I had contracted rabies detracted from my enjoyment. My sister was very sorry she lived in a place that bred such creatures.

I woke up at 8:40am and had to go to class and felt like I've had enough adventure that it was okay that I skipped a morning run. Though it's a shame, because the weather is beautiful.

Transcending racial boundaries

2011-01-13T14:22:00.001-08:00

Me: Dad, do you think Asians look more similar to each other than other racial groups? I got in a fight with my friend about this yesterday.

Dad: No. I think I look different from everyone else, because I am more handsome.

well holy moly, me oh my

2011-01-08T15:24:00.000-08:00

This picture makes me laugh every single time I see it.

Sister complains that I only post pictures of Old Baby looking weird. Old Baby is weird though. While I was getting her dressed this morning, she turned to me, said "Time out," then walked into her closet and shut the door. And then started crying.

She also thinks the "L" in "clock" is silent, but that probably has less to do with her personality, than with the fact that she's not yet two-years-old.

I tend to watch Youtube videos over and over again. I'm hooked on this video—I especially love the clips as he walks through D.C. at the Golden Gate Bridge. It's like what I did, but without the walking through America part.

What I think more effectively conveys my feelings is the Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes song in the video. I've had the opportunity to reconnect with a lot of old friends this break, after absence ranging from three months to five years. Home is meaningful connections, I think.

Also, I am extremely amused by this article and want to talk to people about it.

Hi

2011-01-04T19:33:00.001-08:00

New Baby is here. Sister birthed her on Christmas day.

Old baby likes new baby.

Baby, it's rain outside

2010-12-22T00:17:00.000-08:00

Like a sound you hear

That lingers in your ear

But you can't forget

From sundown to sunset

It's all in the air

You hear it everywhere

No matter what you do

It's gonna grab a hold on you

California soul, California soul

Back. I watched The Italian Job before I left, and this song signaled the transition to Los Angeles (as did the convertible driving along the coast). My California soul has been greeted by torrential rains, but I'm playing the song on Grooveshark anyway. Baby digs it. I dig her. So much personality for a tiny little girl. Plus, she has trouble pronouncing a lot of words, so everything she says ends up coming out sounding like the F-word. "POCK-et!!!" she yelled this morning when looking for a place to return my phone. That's not what it sounded like though.

Sister: Show her a fork and ask her what it is.
Sister: And then show her a truck and ask her what that is.
Sister: And then sometimes she just says the F-word and I don't know why.

Fitting Finale

2010-12-20T21:53:00.001-08:00

Well, we found the owner of the jacket. It happened as days in Arlington were wrapping up, and snowfall on the ground invited snow angels in the apartment complex. Hometeacher Nate had just wrapped up a lesson and I was staring out the window, scouting out plots of snow for where I was going to do my first snow angel. Heather had informed me earlier that my sweatshirt wasn't adequate snow angel attire ("You get wet," she explained).

So I turn to Lindi:

"I know what I'm going to wear."

"What?"

"The Jacket."

"What Jacket?"

"The Jacket."

And she runs, wheels visibly turning in her head, all the way to the closet. Jacket in hand, she runs to Nate. "Is this your jacket?" she asked.

It wasn't exactly. It apparently belonged to his roommate, who had been asking about its whereabouts for about a month. A roommate, whom, we discovered after further Facebook research, was wearing the jacket in his profile picture. In two different pictures, so he must have really liked that jacket. A roommate who had just returned from Germany, and perhaps had some use of an Einzel ticket.

So, the jacket went back to its rightful and appreciative owner, I added extra layers for the snow angel, and we closed the mystery in time for upcoming flights.

I'm flying out with Nelson tomorrow. I'm sad to go, I still feel like I'm in a Winter Wonderland. Three months ago, there was a pool by the Capitol. Today:

It's as if I were ice skating or something. Crazy.

A little holiday spirit

2010-12-15T15:28:00.001-08:00

New York Hannukah

DC Winter

And soon, Christmas with my favorite little one.

Life's been wonderful.

Void

2010-12-14T19:18:00.000-08:00

I wish I ate enough bananas to warrant the purchase of a banana hook. Those things are neat.

Coated

2010-12-05T15:36:00.000-08:00

I'm on the bus back from New York City. Morgan's apartment is conveniently located between Johanna in Canada, and me in DC, so I came up for the weekend for the whole "Christmastime in New York City" deal. It was nothing like Home Alone 2.

I bought a coat though. It's the perfect thickness, warm enough for DC over a sweater, but light enough for the chillier days of San Francisco and Berkeley.

I am terrified of losing it. I want to safety pin my contact information somewhere in case it gets lost. Is that socially unacceptable if you're over eight-years-old? I'm not sure. Is there somewhere I can pin the tag so that it can't be seen when I take off my jacket, but is conspicuous enough that should, God forbid, I leave the coat somewhere, my contact information would be found? All signs point to my pocket, but since I've resisted purchasing gloves, my hands are always in there and extraneous cloth or paper would probably be an annoyance. Will weigh costs/benefits later.

I think the reason that I'm so afraid of losing the jacket is because of The Apartment Jacket. It's a black men's Patagonia brand jacket with a grey fleece lining. Size medium. And it appeared on the couch one day, and lay there, strewn about, each roommate assuming it belonged to another. Once she realized it didn't belong to any of us, Lindi hung it up in the entryway of our apartment so anyone coming over would be able to recognize that it was theirs. And there it sat. After reaching out to those who had been in our apartment, and getting back text after text without admission of ownership, my roommates and I were baffled.

So we began to theorize. Which, by the is one of the many reasons I love my roommates. They are more than happy to sit around and speculate of the potential owners of the Jacket. We've created a bond around this article of clothing, like the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. But instead of us taking the miraculously form-fitting Jacket out on our adventures, it entered our lives, uninvited but welcome and mysterious in origin.

So beside the size and style, there's one large piece to this puzzle: There was a German ticket (or, "Einzel Ticket," which I'm assuming is German) in the pocket of the Jacket, dated 10/29/10. That changed everything. Who could have been out of the country, less than a month before? Why were they in Germany, or why were they in our apartment?

The roommates and I cycled through, once again, the names of who could have been in the apartment. "Well, it could have been Reid's," I murmured. "We hadn't thought of him yet, but I don't think he's a medium. I kind of remember him making fun of Germans last time he was here. Why was he making fun of Germans?"

Then it hit me. He was making fun of Arly-Lian's German boyfriend. Arly-Lian who returned from a traipse through Europe (flying out of Germany, no less) two weeks earlier--after October 30. Arly-Lian whose height and ability to pull off a baggy-fit, can explain the red herring of gendered labeling. Mystery solved.

We were a little sad. I love Arly-Lian, but she isn't a German prince, a layer-loving Patagonian mountaineer, or the person that sneaks into our apartment, goes onto the balcony and smokes cigarettes, then runs away that Lindi and Heather are convinced has been breaking in (why else are there cigarette butts on the deck sometimes? It doesn't make sense). The black polyester-nylon blend most likely was not lined with hundred-dollar bills, was not an invisibility cloak if used correctly, and probably wasn't the FBI's last piece of incriminating evidence from a murder committed years before.

Lindi hung the jacket (at this point stripped from its uppercase distinction like it had stripped us of our imagination) in the front closet, ready to be returned to its rightful owner, and we went back to the drudgery of day-to-day life.

Where I forgot it. For a week. Until Thursday night, when I told Arly-Lian that I still needed to return her jacket

"It's not mine," she said.

All I needed to hear.

Mystery on.

Oh. Yeah. Sorry.

2010-12-01T16:28:00.000-08:00

Nelson: CONNIE.

Me: What?

Nelson: It's pronounced Bay-ner.

Good news

2010-11-30T18:55:00.001-08:00

I got on a scale for the first time in a long time yesterday. I might have lost weight, but maybe I weigh less on the East coast like I'd weigh less on Mars.

Oh also, happy nine years

2010-11-27T14:37:00.000-08:00

Nine years. This blog has kept me happy much of middle school, all of high school, and soon, college. Thanks for uh, reading. I'm glad I have an outlet for my attention-seeking, and an imprint, however faint, on the internet.

Winter's a-coming

2010-11-27T12:11:00.000-08:00

DC's winter is late or mild, and so there are still a number of trees bearing yellow and red leaves. En route to Kentucky, where we're spending the Thanksgiving break, Nelson and I drove through parts of Virginia a little further along in seasonal development. Fall is breathtaking, winter is traumatic; barren trees are a sad sight to behold. Though that may be true just now, while there is no snow but ample grey skies. I noticed that every tree has a nest on it. I thought that may be an east coast thing, but then I realized that we probably have birds nests also, they just are never exposed because the leaves never fall off. Or not, I know little of ornithology.

Kentucky, however, is wonderful. Family and food are my favorite things, and both are even better.

Window watching

2010-11-18T15:29:00.001-08:00

I've been at the receptionist desk at my undisclosed workplace for the past month. I sit at an angle with a view of outside the office, into the hallway that houses the men's room.

Since my first week at the desk, I've noticed one guy in an adjacent office. Tall, nice looking guy, who uses the restroom frequently throughout the day. Kurt, one of the other interns and I, have nicknamed him Doug, and I've taken to mentioning to Kurt every time Doug walks by.

And for the past four days I've started charting it on a Google Doc. Those bored at work can follow along throughout the East Coast workday:

https://spreadsheets.google.com/ccc?key=0AhMmratVYEv2dG9JTDN5WF9Odk5iQlBMNFVkbUVFb2c&hl=en&authkey=CMOA-vkM#gid=0

This isn't scientific. I leave my desk sometimes, so I suspect the numbers are artificially low. I also don't know what he's doing, he may just be stretching his legs and walking to the restroom. I don't know when he gets into work, so if it's before 9am, I won't be tracking him, the same with after 5:30.

(Someone asked me if I wasn't getting enough work to do during the day. That's not the case. I really like my internship, I am learning so much, and getting a lot of different jobs to do. I am just really interested in seeing how many times a day this guy walks past the office.)

I wish I had started the record earlier though, because I know there are days where he has hit seven or higher. I'm also thinking about adding times that he goes, but that may require more effort, and I'm not sure I'm committed enough to the cause.

Either way, we'll see where this goes. Or when he goes.

Don't Fall Over

2010-11-14T19:49:00.000-08:00

I can't find my camera adapter and the pictures I've taken from my phone don't do justice to the vibrancy of fall here. My camera ran out of battery at the entryway of the zoo yesterday, and stayed dead through a walk of Embassy Row, and through ice skating at the sculpture garden. But that's fine, because I don't think I have effectively captured the colors with that camera either. I really cannot believe the shades of orange that some trees are, or how there are red trees next to green trees next to orange trees next to yellow all at the same time. Or how you can get a tree with one leaf that has all those colors on them.

I can't believe I only have five more weeks here. There are too many more things I want to do and see and eat.

Sunday quotes:

From the Bible Dictionary's definition of prayer:

Prayer is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other. The object of prayer is not to change the will of God, but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant, but that are made conditional on our asking for them.

From C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew:

"I'm sure Aslan would have, if you'd asked him," said Fledge."Wouldn't he known without being asked?" said Polly."I've no doubt he would," said the Horse (still with his mouth full). "But I've a sort of idea he likes to be asked."

The local word of choice is not "dichotomy"

2010-11-11T13:24:00.001-08:00

It's "behemoth." I feel like every publication in the area uses that word at least once per issue. In every discussion, friend or client, someone chooses to describe a vast organization or population or lunch options with the word "behemoth". You can give away your political leanings depending on what you categorize a behemoth (Government agency? Big business? An association?). Though the word to me is trite, it may be unrightfully so. We're in the world of big (fill-in-the-blank). Rather than an exaggeration, it's probably a word that that accurately depicts what we're talking about. And the behemoth of a sandwich selection that we often face.

Virginia

2010-11-07T16:34:00.000-08:00

Pro: The opportunity to sit and chat by the river near Mount Vernon after church while surrounded by vibrant fall leaves in every shade of red, yellow, and orange.

Con: There are no toilet seat covers. Anywhere. ever.

Call me starry-eyed,

2010-11-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

but I'm kind of waiting for the love of my life to barge through the doors and say "Connie. I will eat all those cranberries you picked out of that soy energy blend."

Wisdom

2010-11-04T20:29:00.001-07:00

Arly-Lian: ok

also never watch inception on an airplane

Sisters do as sisters should

2010-10-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

As told to my roommate Lindi last night:

Yesterday morning, I saw an article in the New York Times about a study done at BYU that said that having a sister makes you happier. So I posted it on my sister's Facebook wall. Then, when I got home, I saw the same article on my wall, with "you're welcome" as the caption. Her post was followed by:

After I got home from work today

Lindi: Connie! You got a package!

Me: Oh, it's tissues!

Lindi: What?

Me: Kleenex is doing a promotion where you get to send one person a free box of tissues. I sent one to my sister, she must have sent one back to me.

Lindi: Are you sure she didn't send one to you at the same time?

Me: Nah, I sent it to her a long time ago.

A video call moments later

Me: I got your box of tissues today

Nancy: How did you send me this box if you hadn't gotten mine yet?

Me: What?

Nancy: I got your tissue box yesterday and told Brad that you must have sent it to me after you got my box.

Me: So you sent this to me on your own?

Nancy: Yes.

Me: Me too.

I love it. Sisters.

Escalators and lobbies

2010-10-18T19:01:00.000-07:00

I've ridden every metro line in the past week, gotten off at all sorts of downtown and Virginia stops, and at what feels like every station, an escalator is always under repair. I suspect the problem is that commuters walk on both the left and the right side of the escalators instead of chilling on the moving staircase. In heels, no less. Actually it's more like the left side of the escalator runs and the right side walks.

Today I went to AARP with a slight cough, terrified that they'd throw me out as a threat to the retired people. But no one got mad. I guess my perception of an organization run by sickly geriatrics must have been false, because I'm not sure a sickly workforce is conducive to running a massively powerful organization. Though how are you a retired person if you're running an organization? Maybe they're not getting paid. Or maybe the American Association for People Over Fifty was taken. AAPOF. AAPOFive-Oh.

Also, Cokie Roberts was there.

I cried because I had no toothbrush holder

2010-10-09T20:17:00.000-07:00

Until I found a toothbrush holder that had no teeth.

I got this at Walmart for $2.00 and it's been my loveliest purchase since arriving in DC. It comes in a rainbow of colors (though apparently Walmart.com doesn't carry them, so you'll have to take my word for it) and sometimes I take my toothbrush and my toothpaste out to watch it grin with toothless charm.

My only problem with the holder is that it's great when the toothpaste tube is full, but can't support a top-heavy toothpaste. Everyone knows squeezing from the bottom up is the "for best results" way of getting your toothpaste out, but now my paste is bumpy and unevenly distributed throughout the tube, just so it has enough paste to prop up itself up in the mouth of the holder.

If I were more clever I'd be able to formulate a Pearls Before Swine-style pun that ended in "beauty is in the eye of the be-holder" but I think that is out of my reach. Instead, I'm going to go back and tag all the blog posts I've had about brushing my teeth, because I think there are at least three.

I just tried to sign into B of A with the username "bankofamerica"

2010-10-07T19:27:00.000-07:00

Things I do

Commute

Work

Tourist

Eat

Sleep

My apartment is spacious. My commute is practically door-to-door from my apartment to the metro to my workplace. The trains come often, but the people in the metro are generally occupied with their iThings and Blackberrys and look kind of unhappy. The one exception are the couple commuters, whom I find extremely romantic. Like, "let's reduce our carbon footprint in love." It makes me want to find a companion on my route, for couple commuting's sake. The only problem is the (what I think legitimate) fear that the doors will close with one partner on the train, and the other left at the station. It seems to happen all the time, and happened this week to some friends and me. The idea of the Metro door closing makes me anxious because if you try to stick your hand in between the door after the doors beep to close, it will just shut and refuse to let go. Unlike the BART of the Bay Area, which makes irritating noises, but will unhand your purse. Or MUNI of San Francisco, which will stay open for stragglers, all you have to do is ask nicely. Think elevator door.

SAN FRANCISCO? Home of the San Francisco Giants, who are taking on the Atlanta Braves, as we speak?

I love the playoffs, because San Francisco just bursts with excitement, and everyone plans their schedules around the game, and it's this great unifying topic. Unfortunately, the five channels we do get aren't broadcasting the game, and updates online are boring. And there wasn't enough room in my suitcase for my Snuggie, and it's starting to get cold.

2010-10-02T19:26:00.001-07:00

I cried.

Fran reminded me

2010-09-27T18:49:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged in a while.

I kind of mentally blame it on my little brother for

a) not being here

b) having letters that are nice, but aren't quite quotable the way Claire gets to blog her sister's stuff.

But instead, an update:

I like my internship. I like my commute. I like that people care about what is happening to the federal government here, unlike home, where gentle socialism renders federal mandate less important.

I wish Michelle Rhee could stay in the DCPS longer, I wish all the football teams I cared about weren't garbage (Baseball still has a shot though. Go Giants!) I wish I knew more people. Living here is like that time I went speed-dating with Alice. You talk to every single person for like two minutes, find out where they're from, what they're doing in the area, then never meet them again. Girls and boys. I am speed-dating the DC Metro area.

From a hot dog stand.

Also

2010-09-09T18:57:00.000-07:00

I had a really great day. The weather was nice and when I walked to get lunch, some guy walked up to me and goes

Guy: Hey. Are you Michelle Rhee?

Me: No

Guy: Oh. I thought you were her.

Guys this is kind of a serious question

2010-09-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

I have the San Francisco version of this Ork poster. I think it's fun, and thought it'd be nice to buy another one for another city that I lived in. And I like the grey. And my roommate is a geography major, so we already have a map on the world on one wall, and a map of the world shower curtain in our bathroom. Plus my wall right now is empty except for an two-photo picture frame propped up against it. A frame with no pictures. It reminds me of the semester that DB was supposed to put up the artwork in our apartment (he didn't even live there, but that was his chore) and the picture of the cat, and the Monet just rested against the TV for four months. I haven't decided what pictures I want to put in there. Baby is an obvious choice, but the section window is undetermined. I'm taking nominations.

Wait okay so my question is whether or not I'm allowed to buy this poster if I'm only working in D.C. and not living there. Because the snobby San Francisco answer would be no, but I really like this poster.

Differences

2010-09-07T20:22:00.000-07:00

DC is like San Francisco except not at all. Like

Anytime I ask the distance from anything, across city or state lines, people say "fifteen minutes." Even the Metro schedule. Except everything takes way longer than twenty minutes.
The walking man at the stoplights give you 60 seconds to cross. That is so long.
Driving. It's been really difficult for me, because Nelson has a Tomtom and not a Garmin and they give directions differently.
It's diverse here. And by diverse, I mostly mean there are black people. And by here, I mean not at church.
Other than mostly, I really do see other ethnicities and more people in religious garb than at home.
Also, at Costco, they have huge monument statues made out of chocolate.
Actually, I think we do the 15 minutes thing in San Francisco, too. And in LA. Except in LA, they say an hour.

I'm blaming jet lag for this one

2010-09-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

I got up at 1:10pm. All of a sudden, 3pm church isn't all that bad.

Almost like an adventure

2010-09-03T15:53:00.000-07:00

I moved, FYI.

To the DC area. For an internship. For a semester.

I also only blogged twice in the month of August, I just realized, on the first and last days.

Since then I have moved back to the city. Spent some time in Berkeley. Flown East. Had a layover in Salt Lake and a cancelled connecting flight--so I ended up taking a spontaneous Salt Lake City trip. Which was wonderful because my last two (and only) trips to Utah have been:

1) Staying in Provo for a weekend to visit BYU when trying to decide on a school in 2007

2) Dropping Nelson off at BYU some ridiculously long time ago, I think 1998.

So I saw the Temple Square sights, went to the conference center, hiked in the mountains, saw old friends.

The first day of DC was a little stressful in the "new city new sights! I'm lost!" way. I had lunch with Valen at the Fed, where he's in his temporary internship position until they make him chair of the reserve. Stopped by my new place and met two of my roommates,

Now I'm at my brother's bachelor pad waiting until he gets home from work to have dinner. To come: Shakespeare Theater Company's Twelfth Night, move-in to my new place, and work.

I'm excited.

Chung not Chang

2010-08-31T09:19:00.000-07:00

Todd: I feel like every time this comes up, you say your dad teaches a different subject

Todd: I could have sworn he was a language professor
Me: Racist.
Todd: Not really
Todd: I thought it was Spanish

Update

2010-08-01T23:22:00.001-07:00

Nelson uses his fingers to take out his contacts.

Also, I can't take them out by just widening my eye either.

Based on a Carl Sagan novel of the same name

2010-07-29T18:13:00.001-07:00

I was reading old blog posts from the end of 2008 to try and figure out what old baby names Carter had come up with. For Baby II, his only contributions thus far have been "Carter Jack Bauer Allred" if it's a boy.

Anyway. I stumbled upon my record of DB and his "can Asians wear contacts?" inquiry. I think his question may be possibly less offensive than I initially thought. I was trying to put my contacts on in the car on the way to work, and they wouldn't latch on in the moving car.

After the fourth try

Sister (clearly frustrated): What is wrong with you?
Me: It takes a while to get them in.

Sister: It's not that hard when I do it...

Sister, as it turns out, just has to widen her eyes and pop the contacts in. I can't even expose my entire pupil doing that. Nancy doesn't have the Asian eyelid flap that most of the Chungs and 70 percent of East Asians have. So I did a little research among the contact-wearing East Asians family members I know.

Carter:I use my fingers to keep them open. And I speak Mandarin and am good at math.

Haven't gotten Nelson's answer yet. Will update.

Also don't have any other relevant pictures.

Oh, you give me fever

2010-07-26T17:49:00.000-07:00

I'm sick. Which is actually a relief, because I have fallen asleep so many times on the couch this week that I thought I was developing Narcolepsy. Baby was sick last week so she may be the root cause of all this, if not by transmission of germs, then certainly by screaming frequently and early enough to inhibit my recovery sleep.

There's a good chance I'll be calling in sick tomorrow if I don't get better. I just want to lie here and

never take my head off the armrest. Sister is being a good Foster Mother. She gives me slow-melt popsicles even after I refuse the green ones. And when I comment on the absurdity of Dora the Explorer popsicles that are shaped like orange clovers. Stupid.

I think I've fallen asleep twice since beginning this post.

I really like the NY Times' quiz on "How Your Views Compare With the Court." It's super interactive. And has a Tiger Beat feel. It's the two publications I'd like to work for the most. The only thing the quiz is missing is a little banner to post on your blog after you take it. Get with the times, Times.

And if you were wondering, I most closely align with Kennedy. Swing vote yee son.

Creaming cocoa cookies

2010-07-25T19:54:00.001-07:00

Licking your finger after sticking it in the dry mixture is disgusting, even if it's cocoa-powder-brown.

Mom's visiting

2010-07-17T22:11:00.002-07:00

Mom: Sometimes when Baby talks, I don't understand what she's saying

Nancy: Sometimes she's not saying words

Nancy: But Brad said that he's going to tell people it's Chinese.

Brother letter

2010-07-15T20:17:00.000-07:00

For the last day of the moves, because Elder Ling was going home, we all ordered Mega Mac meals delivered to us right before bed. I assume they're not in America. Basically they're 4-patty Big Macs. A soda, 4 nuggets each, sauce (sweet & sour, bbq, spicy mustard, etc.) and shake-shake fries. Shake-shake fries are fries, and you add this flavor powder, put it in a bag, and shake em up. MSG, pretty much. Seaweed flavor. We're excited for when barbecue comes out. There were like 10,000 calories on the table at once, it was awesome. I did not take pictures.

I am not yet at street racer status

2010-07-14T20:38:00.001-07:00

I'm obsessed with driving. Not in a "MUST DRIVE" or a "LOVE DRIVE" way. In a panicked, "can't stop worrying about driving," or the "check Google Maps every ten minutes for the two hours leading to the drive home. In horror." way. (I know that I am missing dashes, but that is too many dashes) I also wrote my little brother a letter this week, but it's only half a letter. The other half is a map I drew of my commute. With time estimates, and arrows pointing to the freeways more congested by rush-hour traffic. And the location of Donut Man in case he forgot. But I'm not a good driver and I feel bad for other people on the road--but I have to get to work.

I was about to insert a frowning smiley just now, but refrained. Which is what I spend most of work doing. Trying to refrain from using smilies and exclamation points in my email correspondence. I've weaned myself from the extra mouths for emphasis [:(((((((((((((( ], but think I need to develop a better vocabulary if I am going to properly express my feelings in the professional context.

Other things: Baby calls me by name now (well, by "Tonnie") and cuddles more with me and asks for me periodically throughout the day. Which is good. There's also a pregNANCY a few months along. Baby II is on its way. Status: currently sitting inside Sister, the size of an orange.

Forgive me if this is grumpier than expected

2010-07-08T09:37:00.001-07:00

But I had a full bowl of cereal this morning using a full bowl of milk. The severity of my lactose intolerance is growing increasingly apparent as I sit slightly buckled over the desk.

But this isn't a post about cereal, or milk, or my body's decision to halt lactase enzyme production. Oh no it is not.

I just really want to complain about Chewy bars as the least durable bar food of all time. (Also, if you misplace the space between "bar" and "food" you get barf ood. ) These things crumble at the first sign of pressure and are impossible to reconstruct. So more often than not, I'll open the packaging on a bar and cereal pieces will tumble onto my lap. Or I guess, granola pieces. Do these even really qualify as granola bars? Not just because I think "bar" is a misnomer, but because it seems like just corn syrup and puffed rice. Which you'd think would be a recipe for stablity. Just look at Rice Krispy treats.

To be fair, my complaint mostly stems from the box of Chewy bars at the house right now that Baby has fisted through. But I feel like Nature Valley bars would be able to withstand the forcefulness with which she paws at these bars. They'd also be useful as post-apocalyptic home-building material. Or stopping dikes to save Holland. Not like these stupid Chewy bars.

Sister, reflecting on old blog posts and six years of marriage

2010-06-29T20:40:00.001-07:00

Nancy: We used to travel a lot, and I used to be funny.

I forgot to post this last night

2010-06-28T23:04:00.000-07:00

I got back yesterday from the city after Taiwanese camp. I'm sure this isn't true of everyone, but maybe high school friends can back me up? Something in the San Francisco air is energizing. I spent most of the weekend walking around doing my version of Jessica's Daily Affirmation:

I like the fog. I like my friends. I like the trees. I like this sandwich. I like the beach. I like my parents. I like the BART. I like my campers. I like my mom's food. I like church. I like walking. I like the layout of the city. I like my pillow. I like tap water. I like downtown. I like the park. I like this hill. I like camp food. I like campers. I like the bright sun coupled with cold air. I like catching the sunrise in the headlands on the way to the shower after staying up all night printing newsletters, and I like the people who stay up with me.

I like things here, too. Like my internship, and Baby, and siblings, and pools, and friends, and friendly people. But the arm movements in front of the mirror are less emphatic. I blame the heat.

I...also like and miss my little brother. I've realized this more because I've been to the airport so many times in the past few weeks, and I wanted to call him, because that's what I do when I'm early for a flight. And he'd stop what he was doing at the time (probably sleeping) and listen to me talk about something I read online, then he'd tell me about the sweatshirt he got at Target for $1.50, because seriously, why did he ever buy anything at the mall before? Then I would express an extreme emotion and he would explain to me the ridiculousness of such emotion. And then we'd get off the phone because I was boarding, and we'd see each other in an hour because he'd be picking me up. Bestfriendsbestfriendsbestfriendsbestfriends.

Five-cent lemon slices from the cafeteria make drinking fountain water taste pretty good. Things are looking up.

Summer

2010-06-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

I adore post-its. Mandy gave me a perfectly compact mini-stack during finals that I've plowed through (I keep the stack in my purse so I can write down where I parked.) in bright green and bright pink and now at my internship there's a supply room filled with what seems like unlimited post-its for unlimited work-related activities. Today I saw someone with rectangular post-its and I decided I want them. They are perfect. But probably not in the supply room I wonder if that's the sort of thing you have to bring from home. Or. Make yourself. Wasteful? Maybe I can turn a square pad into a rectangular pad and those tabbed post-its.

Baby likes to pull post-it pads out of the drawer and draw on them in crayon. Actually she draws on it in inky-pen but then Sister yells at me in fear that Baby will draw on clothes household items. She's right, but I kind of do whatever Baby tells me. But today I gave her a crayon and

Baby loves post-its too.

Also, I have recently learned that I enjoy breakfast burritos. Even though I don't really like breakfast items on their own, or tortillas.

So it turns out "keeper" isn't a made-up word

2010-06-12T12:38:00.001-07:00

Like Quaffle or Bludger.

Nancy: What are your thoughts on the World Cup?

Me: I like the idea that everyone in the world is getting together to watch the same game.

Nancy: Me too. And the idea that a team like Argentina would be playing Nigeria. And then you think about countries like Argentina and Nigeria when you normally wouldn't.

Nancy: But I was watching, and I was like "this is really boring."

Nancy: I think I'd like Quidditch a lot better.

Current emotive state

2010-06-05T01:03:00.000-07:00

I want to sleep but Brad just made me watch this:

and I'm a little freaked out. And so listening to this:

which DB, the good missionary he was, sent me in a package along with an outline of a talk titled "how to be a cool and a leader." The CD is a little too morose . Luckily

my favorite Gar is online to be cheery and calming and so it's okay that I'm crazy and loopy.

Oh and I'm reading this. In large print. Thank you Glendora Public Library.

Google search on the the computer:

2010-05-31T20:46:00.000-07:00

"Toddler dirty looks."

Me: Haha. Yeah she does give dirty looks

Nancy: Yeah but I Googled it, and it's all about other people giving you dirty looks for your toddler.