something scary just for you

I heard the Addams family theme song on the radio today and decided it needed a Nation-style update:











They're greedy and they're crooky,
Hypocritical and spooky,
Think that human rights are kooky,
Bush's friends and Family.

The white house is a museum
Rich people come to see 'em
They really make us scream
The George Bush Family.

So get yer three piece suit on
The bill of rights to crawl on
We're gonna pay a call on
Bush Friends and Family.

Happy Halloween/Dia de los Muertos

Happy Halloween kidz.
I celebrated by going to work (wore a salwar kameez), losing my lunch on the bus, and later getting a pumpkin shake at burgerville.

The costume I should have worn this year was a dead republican (the only good one is a dead one har har)...if I wasn't so worried about ruining my job interview clothes in this super rainy weather, that is.

No parties. Not even one trick or treater. It's a monday night so we're sitting around watching football. I'm working on my powerpoint presentation. Tomorrow I have a date with UPS. Hopefully I won't need to actually do any repetitive heavy lifting, but I need a plan B if no one else is charmed by my numerous job applications. I'm not in a place to be choosy these days. As much as I want a part time school job, I'm sure I have plenty of competition.

Riding the bus home yesterday, the day labor circuit was chatting it up. I'm trying to dig myself out of a hole, but at least I have some options with a college degree even though work in general is not widely available. I'm glad I'm not fighting over housekeeping positions with 35 year old women with 3 kids and no car. It seems immoral in some kind of way.
But what sucks even more when you think about it is that we don't have any dignity to offer in low wage work situations (I'm not even going to call them jobs--they're more like states of being...being perpetually underpaid and being perpetually treated like you are worthless). How the people who run these "operations" can sleep at night is beyond me.

Well anyhow, enough of my critique of capitalism for today. I'm going to switch gears:
This year, for Dia de Los Muertos, I'm going to build a shrine for Bev (who is like a mythical presence around here anyway) who passed on the other day. Don't get me wrong, I didn't know her, and never got to meet her, but her influence on our household will no doubt extend long past her life here on earth. I haven't met her, but I am assuming she is the TJ to a community of people involved in migrant worker issues. Her soul no doubt lives in on in our garden... she had a great influence on that I'm sure.
She was lucky enough to die surrounded by friends in her own home, and after a struggle with cancer, probably had about as ideal of a situation as you can get.

word.

What would Woody Guthrie think?

Sunday at my house means football...I keep hearing this commercial peddling some sort of car...and they use one of his songs.

It makes me angry as hell because I know it's a Woody Guthrie song. And it makes me wonder:

I wonder how a man that felt SO strongly about oppression that he sang out against it, and has a repetoire of music about worker's rights, corrupt politicians, class issues, oppressed people, and social justice...what would he think about a song he made up to entertain his kids, being used by a major corporation like Nissan to peddle cars to rich people.

Maybe he would do the same thing he did long ago, based on this incident from his biography: he was in the "Rainbow Room (in NYC) and gets all antsy about selling out for some bigtime show and ends up sneaking down the elevator and busting into the high-brow lobby pounding away on his guitar and singing at the top of his lungs". I'd like to think he'd crash a board meeting, walk in past shocked receptionists, get up on the round table with his dirty boots and start strumming, "It's always we rambled, that river and I, All along your green valley, I will work till I die, My land I'll defend with my life if it be, Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free"

Oh well. At least some of us are still offended by these things.

The Power of Silence

"The Power Of Silence"

We were out at Sauvie Island to go to the corn maze and hopefully find
some interesting pumpkins to take home for Halloween.  I've been pretty
out of the loop of what is normally my favorite holiday, having been so
busy worrying about other stuff.  But the harvest season is a pretty
special time, and worthy of celebration.  So we donned our mud boots
and sloshed around in the corn maze. 

Just as exciting as finding my way out of the maze, I was just taking
time to enjoy the sound of the wind rustling in the corn leaves.  It
reminded me of two very distinct things:
One was Red Sorghum, a book I read in college, and the Chinese
film that came out of the book.  Red Sorghum is a movie full of imagery
and lush with color.  Red is the primary theme of the movie, and
represents every major theme from war, nationalism and bloodshed to
life, vitality and fertility. The thing that reminded me of the movie
though was the silence.  The film is rather sparse on dialogue and relies on mood.  There's lots of footage of the
sorghum rustling in the wind.  The second thing the corn reminds me of is my childhood and all the time I spent in
the country (where there were nothing but cornfields, miles and miles of cornfields, and I grew up playing in corn
fields with all of my cousins.  There is no quieter place on earth than when you are walking through the tall silent
fields with only the rustle of leaves in the breeze to interrupt your thoughts.
Being on the island, the most striking thing was the silence.  I had forgotten what
peace and quiet sounds like.  Being in the city will do that to you.  When I lived down south and worked in
the fields, there was a great deal of silence and solitude.  But there was also the sound of the wind, squirrels
scampering around, hawks shreiking as they circled overhead, and cattle lowing in the lower pastures.  The only human
sounds were those I made, singing songs to an audience of deer, or the rythms of physical labor.

"If we take time daily to experience physical stillness and to direct our attention inside, we can begin to find the
peace, love, will and wisdom that exist as our essence."

My daily life is full of noise...the sounds of cars driving down the street, the trains passing out of the yard, people
talking on the bus, music, horns, the conversations of my roommates, electronic noises, sirens, television.  In other
words peace and quiet is real hard to come by, and to think over all this noise takes a lot of effort.

"In the sweet territory of silence we touch the mystery. It’s the place
of reflection and contemplation, and it’s the place where we can
connect with the deep knowing, to the deep wisdom way."-- Angeles Arrien

The things I thought about up on the mountain top seemed more simple, but yet more
profound.  A lot of the thought were basic, but many were concerned with analyzing the natural
cycles going on around me.  The way the clouds drifted across the slopes, the movements of the
herds, the likelyhood of rain, the direction of the wind, and the meaning of life when I found
rat skulls while weeding.  When you are doing field work with a group of people, they really tend
to do a lot of talking.  Granted a lot of it is just to pass the time, part of it is because it
is so quiet.  But the conversations that came out of the fields was fascinating in scope-part
philosophy, part practical, and could include any topic under the sun.

It's hard to find a place of quiet in the city.  Stillness is not something that occurs naturally
in a place shared by many people.  I'm still looking for a quiet hole to go contemplate the mysteries
of the universe.  Even the library's not quiet enough for that.  Out on the island, the trees rustle
in the wind, and the fields are silent and brown.  It reminds me of the past, inevitably, and the future
waiting to be born.  The past is filled with quiet voices of long gone wisdom, whispering forgotten
stories, and knew of quiet places because there were more of them long ago.  Now it is hard to hear the
voices of the ancestors, or remember their lessons.  But I do want to remember what they knew of the world
which we have forgotten.  And understand the meanings that can only be found in silence.
(Picture by Lynn Foster Fife)

Are You Afraid To Be Different

"Are You Afraid To Be Different?"

Today's topic seems pertinent after spending quality time around high
school students, fresh out of middle school.  As I remember it, 6th
grade was the first time that I felt the strong need to fit in with
the other kids...whatever that meant.  It only got worse from there,
and by the time you in 9th grade, the opinion of your peer group is
the strongest force in your life.
Unluckily or maybe luckily rather, I couldn't fit in, (not because I
had some glaring external difference that could not be overcome, but
because my very nature demanded that no matter what the cost, I would
never be able to succeed at doing something my heart wasn't in).

"On the path of evolution, we move from being a willing and obedient
member of the group to wanting to take control over our own lives."

One of the teachers had given a writing assignment on "passing judgement on others".  The students I was working
with were not able to perceive that they judge people at all, and even in exploring the ways in which people are
judged, they didn't seem to make the connection.  Maybe some day they will...but anyhow it got me thinking about
how this all relates to my current project about biculturalism, the process of "fitting in" and the process of
"being yourself".  I was talking to my friend about racism the other day, and I think it's amazing that she's
actively teaching her students that using racial slurs and calling people "fags" is not okay, and actually teaching
them why it's not okay.  It all relates to how we judge each other and what purpose it serves to do so.  The other
night we had a discussion in class about racism, and what we think automatically, when we see people.  High school
students tend to think that anyone or anything "different" is weird.  While hard pressed to define what weird is, it
ultimately sounds a lot like individuality.  In high school at least, to be brave enough to be different from others
is having the courage to be perceived as "weird". 

Andrew Schneider says, "At this point we are afraid of being ourselves.  We are afraid of being unique and different. 
For all of these things stand against the old ways that told us that conformity was right and individualism was wrong".

Individualism is exaulted as a higher state of being in America, to an extent that is not desirable in other settings.
The authors of these statements probably accept individualism as the ideal, but this elevation of individualism is not
without controversy.  In my own life, I tend to see it as being neither bad nor good.  Either individualism or conformity
when taken to its logical extremes, can be very harmful.  Conformity is what causes otherwise decent people to do heinous
things as a group, and individualism makes people oblivious to how their actions affect the lives of others.  At one extreme
you have a timid type of oppression, and the other end, blindness to your own selfishness. 
Learning to be yourself is very important, but I think almost as important, is learning to be yourself in a way that isn't at
the expense of others.  My contention is that purpose is far more important than the forms we use to express who we are.  Being
able to manifest purpose should be the ultimate goal of identity...once you've done your homework and gotten past the question
of "Who am I", you need to get down to the business of figuring out the far more important question of "why".

"For as long as we possibly can, we make a compromise. We try to live
both lives - the dependent tribal life and the independent personal 
life - as contradictory and opposite as they are."

Dependency is not always such a bad thing.  Being able to turn to other people when
you can't do everything alone is a gift.  In fact, I would argue that complete
personal independence is a myth.  In some ways, having a network of mutual dependence
is a resource far greater than possessing resources alone as an individual. 
"Dependent" is not such a bad word when you realize that it can be a place of power
as well, when you have mutuality.  Being independent is a good thing as well, but it
really isn't an end, but rather a means to an end.  The end is neither dependence or
independence, it's harmony.  To be in harmony is to understand the balance of both
in your life.

"We want approval from others. We want to be accepted and popular. 
We seek this comfort to overcome our fear and feel more secure."

One thing I love being able to tell high school students, is that in real life you don't
need to be "popular".  It just doesn't matter all that much in adult life.  Being popular
in high school, luckily has no bearing on your adult life and is no predictor of sucess.
Believe me, 99.9% of the time, nobody gives a shit if you were popular or not, because it
has nothing to do with the qualities needed to do work, provide for a family, or enjoy your
life.  In fact, being popular may be a handicap because you have to have real competence in
something to succeed as an adult, and competence, unlike popularity is based on far different
standards.
There is security in acceptance, but acceptance can only take you so far.  In the real world
you have to prove yourself in ways that are far different.
In real life, you have to have a purpose, popularity alone will not save you.  There's
a reason why the world works this way...for the most part, you need diversity for society
to function in a healthy fashion.  If everyone wanted to be the same person and do the same
things, there would not be enough places for all these carbon copy people, and society would
not be able to function.  The world only needs so many football players, politicians and
actors.  It is through being different that we find our purpose.

"Nature never repeats herself, and the possibilities of one human soul
will never be found in another." Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Every leaf is unique, but they all grow together on a tree.  If the leaves are weak, the tree
itself will die.  If the tree is not healthy, each leaf, no matter how special, dies with it. 
We are all different, but we live in this world together.  We don't need to look the same, or
act the same, or even think the same, but we do need to realize that we are here for each other's
mutual benefit, for a purpose that ensures that we survive as a whole.
Each leaf comes with unique characteristics, and looks differently than every leaf on the tree.
But the tree itself has many branches and is strong enough to hold up in the wind and rain.
Being different is the only way we can live, but understanding that the whole is made up of it's
parts is what makes it possible to live together in this world, and  benefits us both as
individuals and as a community.

So to my highschool students, this is why it is both necessary and desirable to be "weird" if that
is what you call different.  To the guest of wednesday night why I see you both a human being, and
a black woman, and don't have any trouble reconciling the two in my mind.

Ripping up Asphalt and Planting Gardens

Ripping up Asphalt and Planting Gardens was someting that landed in my inbox this morning. It's a great essay by Derrick Jensen and on a topic that I've been thinking about (and acting on) for a long long time now. I'm not going to reprint the whole thing due to space issues, but rather, comment on the parts that particularly resonate with me.

This culture is killing the planet. It must be stopped. 
We evidently do not have the courage to stop it ourselves.

One of the most utterly discouraging things that I have to
face on a day to day basis, is knowing that the vast majority of people around me
think that it's perfectly alright to exploit the world they live in, and are oblivious
to the fact that they will only hurting themselves (as well as me) in the end. Nobody
can make you "care" about nature, sustainability, or the beauty of life itself.  You
have to already have that state of mind.  The fact that so many people don't makes me
wonder how this civilization has come to no longer regard the natural world as
something valuable in its own right.

If you agree with all this, and if you don't want to dirty your
spirituality and conscience with the physical work of helping to bring
down civilization...you need to start preparing people for the crash, 
ripping up asphalt in vacant parking lots to convert them to neighborhood 
gardens, teaching people how to identify local edible plants, even in the city 
(especially in the city) so these people won't starve when the proverbial shit 
hits the fan and they can no longer head off to Albertson's for groceries. 

I was born with an innate curiosity towards the world of plants, and gardening.
Although this knowledge has been seemed to be somewhat extraneous at times in my
life, even in the midst of the most unlikely settings, I have called upon it.
I memorized the location of unlikely fruit trees in the city and returned to them at
the appointed time to gather their widely unappreciated fruits, falling uselessly to
the parking lots.  I would tresspass onto the private property of the rich to steal
fruit and vegetables that were obviously not being used by those who dwelled there.
I would harvest the medicinal and culinary herbs that had been planted by the
oblivious for strictly ornamental reasons.
Like a deer I would come out at night and eat grapes off a parking lot fence in
Chicago, pick persimmons behind apartment buildings in Memphis, interrupt drug dealers
in a municipal park to get at the muscadines growing behind a bridge, and walked the
alleys of Ashland taking advantage of a ceaseless buffet of cherries, pears, plums,
apples, grapes, blackberries and other fruits that hung pendulously over my
outstretched arms in the long hot days of summer.
Aside from my feral tendencies as an urban scavenger, I also participate in the
ritual of growing my own food, no matter where I live, even if it's just a few herbs
growing in whatever container I can find at the recycling center.
If old ladies in Japan can do it in tiny cramped apartments, so can I.  The Japanese
women had no compunction about ripping up grass and planting "less ornamentally
desirable" things like onions, so why should I be shy about planting gardens on rental
properties in full view of my more middle class oriented neighbors?
Besides, there's nothing more sociable than the curiosity of your urban neighbors
drifting over to inspect your un-grasslike bounty, even if their curiosity springs up
from the suspicion that your collard greens or squash viens are "weeds" worthy of
inspection by code enforcement.  The opportunity to educate is inherent in the
practice of a visible defiance of cultural norms and cultivating agrarian traditions
in an urban world.  Say nothing of course of the satisfaction of not having to buy
food elsewhere.

We need people working to teach others what wild plants to eat, what plants are 
natural antibiotics. We need people teaching others how to purify water, how to 
build shelters.

It never ceases to amaze me how little most people know about food, what it looks
like, where it comes from.  Basic things like tomatoes...much less the more
complex world of trees and herbs.  The average person is starved of the kind of
knowledge of how to provide for themselves.  The ancestors would weep in their graves
that their descendents don't have a clue about such a basic thing.   The trouble of
having money is that you don't know how to do anything for yourself, and live unaware
of the deep personal satisfaction that comes with developing competency in these
areas.

All of this can look like supporting traditional, local knowledge, it
can look like starting roof-top gardens, it can look like planting
local varieties of medicinal herbs, and it can look like teaching
people how to sing. The truth is that although I do not believe that
designing groovy eco-villages will help bring down civilization, when
the crash comes, I'm sure to be first in line knocking on their doors
asking for food.

One thing he hasn't mentioned that I think is important, is passing on some of
this knowledge to your children.  That is precisely what hasn't happened for the
past 50-100 years, and why were are where we are today.  They are the ones in the
best position to act upon these ideas, being unburdened with prior socialization
to believe that they are unable to do what is necessary to bring about change in the
world.  Children are the most adaptable members of society, and the ones that will
be able to carry on best, having not yet becoming personally invested in the system
as it exists.
So I think it should be our duty to teach these things to our children as well as
to each other.  I know it has made a huge difference in my own life to have been
taught by the elders to observe that patterns in nature, and respect them.

...the good thing about everything being so fucked up is that no matter where you 
look, there is great work to be done. Do what you love. Do what you can. Do what 
best serves your landbase. We need it all...

The work we face includes both destruction and creation....Those
lots need to come up. Gardens can bloom in their place. We can even do
our work side by side.

By Derrick Jensen
Oct. 21, 2005

When I was 22 years old, my dream was to plant vegetables and flowers on every burned
out vacant lot in my city, to turn every empty space into a place of joy.  I didn't
have the resources or time to act upon this, so I had to work with what I had close
to home.  But since then I have been harvesting seeds and giving them away to those
who will plan them where they are.  The more of us planting seeds, the more beauty
there will be in this world.  There is more than enough space in this world to
plant enough food to feed everyone. We are able to feed everyone now, we just
choose not to...
Just on my block alone, there is an unused side yard, a vacant lot (that we are
growing enough food in to feed a dozen people), and another vacant lot.  Enough food
to feed everyone in the neigbhorhood could be grown in these 3 spaces.
Thinkings about other cities I've been to, I'm sure this sort of thing happens in
many "bad neighborhoods" where land is underutilized, and vacant lots are the rule.
Once I saw an entire street of abandoned boarded up houses.  If I had the money, I
would have bought all the land, torn the houses down and turned it into a farm.
This is what needs to happen...instead of taking good farmland and turning it into
surburbs, cities need to be reclaimed by militant farmers.  Vacant lots could become
gardens.  Parking lots could become orchards.  Strip malls could become woodlots.
Abandoned houses could become barns.  Just think of the possibilities.

Derrick Jensen is an activist, author, small farmer, bee-keeper,
teacher, and philosopher whose speaking engagements in recent years
have packed university auditoriums, conferences and bookstores
nationwide. He has authored or co-authored a number of books that
examine western civilization, including The Culture of Make Believe, a
finalist for the 2003 J. Anthony Lukas Book Prize, A Language Older
than Words, and Walking on Water: Reading, Writing and Revolution.
Visit his website: http://www.derrickjensen.org

ain't left the house all day

wow, i just realized i haven't been outside all day long, which is mighty unusual really. normally if i don't go anywhere else, i will usually at least visit the garden. might be the weather. it's been grey all day, gloomy and cloudy, rather like being inside of a big misty cloud. not that i've really had time to notice the weather. i've been really busy.

brian made chilli, and i made the cornbread. i've been working on my final project for class, and did all the sorts of things i usually do on sunday that aren't even remotely worth mentioning. i've got a couple of really good batches of sauerkraut that are finished. makes me want to get started on some sake now that the cold air is lingering downstairs. it might be just the right temp to get about it now.

another week is staring me in the face. here's to hoping there is a job in that week somewhere, and that i can get the reading for class done (that I thought i would get done today).

the assortment

got to play dress up today thinking i was going to pps, but there was more involved in that venture than i had anticipated. it's fun being overdressed sometimes...it makes life interesting. i might do it for a week just to see what happens.

life certainly hasn't gotten any easier in the past week, not that i can say that i expected it to. but it sure would be nice if it did.
i had an erenrich moment when i was filling out a stupid questionaire about theft on the job. i'm sure people steal stuff from work all the time but only the stupidest among them are likely to admit it on a questionaire, so why even ask. who will i whore myself out to for the holiday season? it remains to be seen. at any rate, there isn't much dignity in the process, people think they have a right to ask you just about anything in the name of hiring. a big fuck you corporate america. i'm tired of your crap.

i should know this, and maybe i have always known this, but i'll say it again and maybe this time take it to heart...i'm gonna have to start watching asian films by myself. there's no point in trying to do it any other way. all i get is complaints every time.

the moon is almost full and it's shining in my window. i had to pull the tomatoes off of their dead withered vines this afternoon...they're going downhill fast. guess tomatoes aren't a novemeber experience in this climate. i've been eating lots of fried green tomatoes to celebrate the bounty of 20 or so pounds sitting around the house in buckets. in spite of the weather, the squash vines are thrusting out new squash every day. i have no idea how on earth i will ever keep up with it. here it is, nearly halloween and i don't have a pumpkin yet. maybe this can be rectified this weekend.

i passed

i don't believe it, but i passed the praxis!
i'm so happy i want to go hug all the homeless guys sitting on the bench by the bus stop, but i think they would rather i just give them a dollar and take my exuberance somewhere else.

in other news, i turned in the GSE application today so now i get to sweat for a couple of months until I find out whether they'll have me.

reflection

Today's thought:
Sometimes the reflection of reality is more interesting than the reality itself.

"Have you ever had a dream, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?"

cheese cheese and more cheese

saturdays bring a predictable and bland yet comforting routine of food procurement.
but before that got underway, i went back to the library and finally talked to the right person, after a week of talking to the wrong person. i'm hoping that was worth all the bus riding. but anyway back to food.
so let's just say the franz bakery outlet moves too often. i thought i was hallucinating the whole thing. when we went to the store, it was cheese cheese and more cheese day. i love free samples. i couldn't keep out of the pears either. i have a confessed pear fetish. it no doubt comes from my harry and david's days. but yeah, the cheese. just when i had given up all hope of joy and salvation there it was.
unleashed is a good thing to watch when one is studying psychology. yep.

run lola run

having my first friday off in awhile was less restful than i would have imagined.
i had to go to pcc to see about getting a job at the cascade library, then i went downtown to meet brian in front of the library (i didn't get to look for anything while i was there, alas), then we went to powells, then over to "the pod", then over to regal cinema. somehow i did all that in less than 2 hours. sitting down was marvellous.
so after maybe a month of waiting i finally got to see corpse bride. brian didn't like it as well as nightmare before christmas. it could have been longer, but i liked lots of things about it (so many funny little details). the end was beautiful. i of course never get tired of dancing skeletons. maybe it's my inner goth speaking.
the rest of the day was a blur. the clouds were alluring. a surprising number of people are on the train in the afternoons...i vaguely remember having soup for dinner and we must've watched the matrix again. what's funny is when he hangs up the phone at the end of the movie...well the weird thing is i feel that way all the time.

the parade will not pass our way

i like to watch the red leaves fall,
and dream of days gone by,

"i said: "kiss me, you're beautifull
these are truly the last days"
you grabbed my hand and we fell into it
like a daydream or a fever "

the clouds invade the valley,
in the darkness of the morning,
and i watch them drown together,
the rain hits me in the face,
i feel more alive when i'm cold,
and less afraid in the shadows,

i watch you as you ride by,
with your gypsy caravan bike parade,
the tents in doorways,
and outstretched hands,
hallelujah is the only word i know,
that can describe the feeling,
of warmth, and being,

back then, we didn't know the words...

we just sang the songs.

now there is nothing left but a reflection,
would you know the way home,
when the streets are dry,

somewhere our wires got crossed,
you ended up on a shipwreck,
and i ended up on a runaway train,

all my bottles are laying in the gutter,
and i walk over them like leaves,
there are no jars full of saints,
in this closet.

i came this close, to making my bed,
in the outstretched arms,
of the southern pacific,
and rolling out of here,
like a cloud,
in a bed of clanging steel.

the boats sound lonely,
on the road of the river,
and her tears will never dry,
on the land,
across the bridge,
i see all of your sweet faces,
dancing drunkenly,
in my vagrant mirror,
and the twist and bend,
in impossible unity


where did we go,
did the record stop playing,
did we forget our stop,
and pass into a strange land,
i no longer know,
the language of rivers,
the song of birds,
or the heart of trees

the unfamiliar bus

neighbor: looks like we got a new neighbor today, maybe more than one, but all i've seen was a guy so far. from looking out the window i see an suv and the basic indie rock uniform. otherwise that's all i know. hopefully he doesn't have an interest in loud music and wild parties...my perennial worry in shared living. landlord was around so we had to hide like illegal refugees in the attic. fortunately he left just when i needed to leave the house. Wish he'd respond to our paperwork so we wouldn't have to lurk around like shadows when the gold colored van comes around. guess all those people that came by didn't make the final cut. it's always fun guessing which one ends up being your new neighbor. the people across the yard and next door are pretty interesting. to protect their privacy i won't use their names, but they're both non-traditional couples who have been very friendly so far. We're a very couple-y black here since these three houses have 4 couples living in them. Makes me wonder if the guy downstairs is single...

today's soundtrack: ashe boshe, baka forest people, ani difranco

homework: a small excerpt from tomorrow's homework assignment:

some cultural attributes of the south: Importance of community and social networks, socializing (small talk, long visits, just about anything is an excuse for a celebration involving lots of food), manners and politeness (southerners are known for this), order of time (nobody hurries, things’ll get done sometime)

some cultural attributes of Japan: collectivism (group based identity-vs-importance of individuality), the idea of “face”, indirect communication styles, not staring at people, reserve, personal space, quietness (not yelling or shouting), reciprocity, keeping emotions to yourself, being humble/modest

thanks y'all i'll have to make a point of thanking a couple of former bosses and liz and jb for getting letters of recommendation to me in time to fill out my gse application and mail it in. it's so nice to have that out of the way. i don't get to read them, but jb sent me a copy to read that's just great. i'll have to return the favor sometime for her. she's a champ.

sunshine it rained a bunch the past few days but has been mostly dry yesterday and today. it gets dark a lot earlier though. the tomatoes no longer appear to be ripening. probably might as well pick them green and bring them inside. i saw otis, my favorite dog yesterday (he'd been gone for a few days) and was excited about not needing an umbrella.

new sights the nice thing about riding an unfamiliar bus in a mostly unfamiliar city is that i get to discover new and exciting things. yesterday i discovered the location of catholic charities (i'll have to go volunteer down there with the refugee program) and the franz bakery outlet (i like their bread and wish i could afford to buy it more often, this may be a solution), as well as a number of new stores and restaurants.
portlands a really cool city and there's tons of eclectic stuff all over the place. i just wish i had some money to go along with my sense of exploration. it's a problem i have a lot...i want to get out more and do stuff but without any money, my routines kinda revolve around what's free (riding my bike and walking around by the industrial park, and going to the library). don't get me wrong though, i'm really good at dumpster diving and finding hidden treasures, but occasionally i want to veg in coffee houses, and go inside a store and not feel like i'm loitering. oh well, some other life.

well i've got class tonight so time to go play student.

resolution to the drama

well to make a long story short, everything ended up working out fine...brian called trimet and lo and behold, they had custody of my wallet. hell the $2 was still in there. i was not expecting much after having my wedding ring stolen on day two, but the city of portland is a kinder gentler place this time around.

just to keep things from being too happy and joyous i decided to heff it on over to pps, and submit to the whims of bureacracy. yum...my favorite flavor of suck--forms!
after holding out for nearly 3 decades, the man has my fingerprints. feeling somewhat feral and like a stray critter up in the land of florescent lights and the maze of hallways (whew dhs ain't got nothin' on this place) i had the vaguely odd feeling similar to when you go to the doctor and they want you to take off your clothes and prod you with something somewhere uncomfortable. the questionaire wanted to know about my non-existent personal history with sex offenses. after it was all over, oddly feeling like my soul had been sucked out of my body, i walked out of the building back into the one sunny day we've had in awhile and mulled it all over.

something about bureacracy brings out my more feral attributes. deprive me of natural light and freedom of movement, and i start slinking around and looking shifty like a raccoon that accidently found it's way in via the airducts. i don't belong inside big ugly oppressive institutions and my life history doesn't fit neatly on forms. maybe i'm more like smokey sleeping over in brian's chair than i suspect, and maybe that's why we drive each other crazy a lot of the time.

i'm glad to have my various pieces of personal identification back, since i seem to need them a lot these days. i was a bit worried someone would find more creative uses for these things than I have so far, but then again it may be to your detriment to impersonate someone like me anyhow.

lost wallet

so i lost my wallet...probably sometime yesterday. reasons why this might suck include the loss of my monthly all zone bus pass (no way to go to school or work other than walking or riding my bike in the rain), loss of every bank and credit card and every form of picture id i own.
yep, until i find it, I'm screwed and can't afford to go anywhere, and can't prove I'm me.
ouch.

thought of the day

"Why must we wonder", someone wrote on a pen test pad at work.

Pretty good question me thinks.