Just over a couple of weeks ago…terror from natural disaster struck Japan. The morning of, I had received a text message from my mother saying “There’s been an earthquake and Tsunami in Japan, California might be seeing after effects, are you okay?” Not exactly what I was expecting to wake up to, but I’m sure neither were the Japanese.
Roughly 5500 miles away, the disaster was strong enough to cause a flair of bad weather and slight damage up north in California. That was what was evident immediately after as well as the week to come. What’s even crazier is although Japan is quite the distance away, it’s directly affecting many individuals in the states. Earlier this week I was purchasing a new car and got to talking to the dealer about the tragedies in Japan and he shed a little light on how it’s affecting Japanese cars and their parts not only over there but here as well. Many of the major car part factories were damaged and now have to go through full inspections before they can pick up manufacturing again.
In addition to cars.. the film industry is also being hit pretty hard. Yesterday I was at USC with my cousin who is a film professor and one of his students rushed into his office frantically, she seemed very urgent. She stated that her thesis project that is saved on one device needs to be put onto a digi beta but because USC has no more tapes due to the current stoppage of deliveries from Japan, only left her with another option. “Can I just send it to Fotokem to be digitized?” she said. “Good luck, you’re not the only one, Hollywood is filling the bulk of Foto’s processes for the time being…”-my cousin responded.
When these sort of disasters happen, it seems a common trend for people to say ‘Oh, this is affecting everyone in some sort of way’, and normally I would assume people mean emotionally but now I know different. I’d usually think, well most people aren’t upset because it’s not happening to them and they dismiss it. Now it has become clear that when something goes wrong on our planet, that regardless of how long it takes us to realize….it will impact us in some way shape or form.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Afternoon with a Stranger Who Bought me dinner….
Afternoon with a stranger Who Bought me dinner
As you may or may not know, due to unfortunate circumstances (i.e my car being a deadly piece of jazz) I’ve been without a vehicle for a little over a month now, which is a little more than inconvenient. Including… people forgetting to pick me up from work..walking five miles home…my work telling me not to come in because of bad weather FIVE minutes before my shift, while I’d hitched a ride to work..etc. Lovely right? So I’ve taken up another job these past weeks of constantly searching dealer’s inventories online for the ride I should like and can afford and one on which I can rely. Yes that’s right kiddies, I’m working to pay for my own car. Some of us aren’t given everything on a silver platter that’s wrapped in red ribbon, just in case you were confused. Anyway.
Last night I finally found a car that fits all of the ideals that I’d wanted! I was stoked. And to my surprise…on a Sunday morning I got a call from the dealer. He informed me that the vehicle I’d requested was in fact still available for purchase. Woot!
[Only haha, silly me…I’d confused Carlsbad with Clairmont, Carlsbad being 40 mins away, and Clairmont being just four miles away. Rather than try and depend on someone to give me a ride up and hear them beat-around-the-bush-indirectly-complain when I pay them exact change for the—I figured I’d rent a Prius from the PLNU zipcar system. Yes…I would drive a Prius in this situation. Desperate times call for desperate measures. ]
He then asked me when a convenient time would be for me to come in to check out the car and I explained that I would have to arrange a ride first and then I could let him know. Being of course, the impatient nature of a car salesman he was, he almost immediately offered a ride from his dealership or if I thought that was weird I could find my own ride. Of course I’d take a free ride when gas prices are high and people are greedy. I prepared for the day and waited for him to roll up in the electric blue 2009 Honda Accord. He generously agreed to not drive the car up and down that I would be testing out. That was nice.
Test drive! One of the only times I don’t blast fat beats on the radio. Fortunately I’ve gone through enough car problems and repairs that I can decently (for a lady) check out a car and size it up. Thanks to Cousin Chris… I can pretty much identify every part of the engine and its function. Hello accomplishment. I think Michael-the-car-[dealer]-man was somewhat surprised. I think everyone in life should have to deal with car issues at some point so they actually understand how a car works instead of being naïve and/or ignorant.
When all was said and done… I was just shy of having enough (after a taxes and California’s rape of taxes/registration/fees) to pay fully in cash but, it’s Sunday, and credit unions are closed today. Sooooo now I have to wait until tomorrow to hear back. I usually say that car salesman have no soul but…this was seemed to be somewhat decent in that he wasn’t a huge a-hole to me when the sale didn’t work out today.
“Do you want to stop at the outlet malls or anything? Are you hungry?” – He said.
“Hah umm I’m just kind of cold and want to go back… I am hungry though, In-n-Out sounds good”- I said.
We pulled up and I got my warm dinner for the evening (eliminating me having to eat cereal in my apt later on.) I attempted to hand him cash for the bill-- the stranger who’d been shuttling me around all day, also bought my dinner.
Surprisingly…the ride back was enjoyable, and not awkward. Thank the Lord :). Fingers crossed for tomorrow!! Until next time… I’ll catch ya on the sunnyside.
As you may or may not know, due to unfortunate circumstances (i.e my car being a deadly piece of jazz) I’ve been without a vehicle for a little over a month now, which is a little more than inconvenient. Including… people forgetting to pick me up from work..walking five miles home…my work telling me not to come in because of bad weather FIVE minutes before my shift, while I’d hitched a ride to work..etc. Lovely right? So I’ve taken up another job these past weeks of constantly searching dealer’s inventories online for the ride I should like and can afford and one on which I can rely. Yes that’s right kiddies, I’m working to pay for my own car. Some of us aren’t given everything on a silver platter that’s wrapped in red ribbon, just in case you were confused. Anyway.
Last night I finally found a car that fits all of the ideals that I’d wanted! I was stoked. And to my surprise…on a Sunday morning I got a call from the dealer. He informed me that the vehicle I’d requested was in fact still available for purchase. Woot!
[Only haha, silly me…I’d confused Carlsbad with Clairmont, Carlsbad being 40 mins away, and Clairmont being just four miles away. Rather than try and depend on someone to give me a ride up and hear them beat-around-the-bush-indirectly-complain when I pay them exact change for the—I figured I’d rent a Prius from the PLNU zipcar system. Yes…I would drive a Prius in this situation. Desperate times call for desperate measures. ]
He then asked me when a convenient time would be for me to come in to check out the car and I explained that I would have to arrange a ride first and then I could let him know. Being of course, the impatient nature of a car salesman he was, he almost immediately offered a ride from his dealership or if I thought that was weird I could find my own ride. Of course I’d take a free ride when gas prices are high and people are greedy. I prepared for the day and waited for him to roll up in the electric blue 2009 Honda Accord. He generously agreed to not drive the car up and down that I would be testing out. That was nice.
Test drive! One of the only times I don’t blast fat beats on the radio. Fortunately I’ve gone through enough car problems and repairs that I can decently (for a lady) check out a car and size it up. Thanks to Cousin Chris… I can pretty much identify every part of the engine and its function. Hello accomplishment. I think Michael-the-car-[dealer]-man was somewhat surprised. I think everyone in life should have to deal with car issues at some point so they actually understand how a car works instead of being naïve and/or ignorant.
When all was said and done… I was just shy of having enough (after a taxes and California’s rape of taxes/registration/fees) to pay fully in cash but, it’s Sunday, and credit unions are closed today. Sooooo now I have to wait until tomorrow to hear back. I usually say that car salesman have no soul but…this was seemed to be somewhat decent in that he wasn’t a huge a-hole to me when the sale didn’t work out today.
“Do you want to stop at the outlet malls or anything? Are you hungry?” – He said.
“Hah umm I’m just kind of cold and want to go back… I am hungry though, In-n-Out sounds good”- I said.
We pulled up and I got my warm dinner for the evening (eliminating me having to eat cereal in my apt later on.) I attempted to hand him cash for the bill-- the stranger who’d been shuttling me around all day, also bought my dinner.
Surprisingly…the ride back was enjoyable, and not awkward. Thank the Lord :). Fingers crossed for tomorrow!! Until next time… I’ll catch ya on the sunnyside.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Koala Cocoa Puffs Anyone? [Research Blog]
You’ve seen them, all kinds. You know, a physical association comparison made subconsciously when the guy with the large schnozz and less-than-tiny ears walks in the room and all that comes to mind is-- the cutesie Disney pal, Dumbo.
Whenever I see a person who greatly resembles the twin sister or brother of a horse, a gorilla, or even a llama, these are the human-animal associations I try to keep to myself. It’s much more acceptable to tell someone they look like something cute, like a puppy. But why? People don’t want to be told their ugly, even if they know they are. Which brings to me to the koala, they LOOK super cute, but that's only the beginning of it... Koalas are adorable and an animal one may be pleased to be called. But what people really don’t know is that these cute little Australian marsupials are nasty little fellas and carry some major baggage.
First of all, these guys are SUPER lazy. They literally sit around "e ‘rest motionless for about 16 to 18 hours a day’ and most of that time is spent sleeping. On top of that they can be highly aggressive towards each other and gnash those little teeth in each other’s faces. The most accurate human comparison I can make is that of koalas are similar to the middle aged human. They sit, they eat, they sit some more, they bitch, complain, and then when that all gets too much for them, they just go back to sleep; or for humans, they go on vacation.
Next off, koalas can’t make up their mind. They spend the majority of their lives hugging Eucalyptus trees but then when it comes to someone picking them up to give them a hug—don’t even think about it. Koalas can suffer tree-separation-anxiety but that hardly means they want a human substitution.
Speaking of substitutions… when these little guys enter the world, of course they’re picky and can’t just order the plain eucalyptus off of the menu. No. They have to have momma order a helping and deliver it to them directly via bacterial fermentation which takes place in the digestive process which means—yup you guessed it—for the first days of their lives, they have poo poo for breakfast. Cocoa puffs anyone?
You may think twice next time. As for me, gross stuff and baggage aside, I still want a pet koala.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Milk milk milk. Making the mundane original
Making the mundane original.
Ever since I posted my originality to the mundane I felt guilty for having placed writing on my blog which I didn't feel Appropriately fit the topic. Odd mindframe the other day. Which brings me back to milk . It's kind of funny. Not really one of those things you think about . It's just there. It's the first thing you drink outside of the womb. It's one of the single most important essentials if life for the first few months. We forget that though. And then there's the flavors and varieties. 2% , not-as-much fat, and fat free. And then there's goat
Milk, cow milk, human milk, then it goes to chocolate milk and strawberry milk and so on and so on. Sometimes there's nothing better than a tall glass of ice cold milk especially on a sour stomach. So what classifies something as a 'milk' anyway. How we decide what should fit into a smooth cool nutrient source. I wonder if there's certain requirements a substance has to meet to be put in that category. Are there a certain number of nutrients that have to be present to meet the standards for a recipe of milk. It kind of makes me think of college students... Sure , there's a general make-up of what a college student needs to possess, certain grades and other credentials, but Theres always those special cases. For those kids who are terrible at math and science and fail at tests-- but yet they can compose a score for a short film that brings tears to any eyes who view. Maybe they're not the 'ideal excelling student' but they're still a student. Like chocolate rice milk, it's not really milk from a mammal, but it's still yummy when served chilled and can satisfy your tastebuds.
Ever since I posted my originality to the mundane I felt guilty for having placed writing on my blog which I didn't feel Appropriately fit the topic. Odd mindframe the other day. Which brings me back to milk . It's kind of funny. Not really one of those things you think about . It's just there. It's the first thing you drink outside of the womb. It's one of the single most important essentials if life for the first few months. We forget that though. And then there's the flavors and varieties. 2% , not-as-much fat, and fat free. And then there's goat
Milk, cow milk, human milk, then it goes to chocolate milk and strawberry milk and so on and so on. Sometimes there's nothing better than a tall glass of ice cold milk especially on a sour stomach. So what classifies something as a 'milk' anyway. How we decide what should fit into a smooth cool nutrient source. I wonder if there's certain requirements a substance has to meet to be put in that category. Are there a certain number of nutrients that have to be present to meet the standards for a recipe of milk. It kind of makes me think of college students... Sure , there's a general make-up of what a college student needs to possess, certain grades and other credentials, but Theres always those special cases. For those kids who are terrible at math and science and fail at tests-- but yet they can compose a score for a short film that brings tears to any eyes who view. Maybe they're not the 'ideal excelling student' but they're still a student. Like chocolate rice milk, it's not really milk from a mammal, but it's still yummy when served chilled and can satisfy your tastebuds.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Making the Mundane Original...
Chitter Chatter
As an umbrella topic, we all talk. We talk to one another and when we’re not talking, generally we’re listening to someone else talk. Whether or not we’re invited to or we’re imposing. When speaking to someone it is polite to make eye contact and express modes of active listening such as agreeing and shaking your head yes or no, based on what the person is saying.
As a person with background in voice talent, I am often amused with not only what people are saying but also how they are saying it. In today's lecture I was lost not in the subject matter but purely in the delivery of it. Specifically, in one of my classes a professor of mine has a particularly high-pitched voice and I often times wonder if it is natural or forced? Several clues allude to whether or not this is her God-given tone, or if she speaks in one based out of emotion. She seems like an introverted person and sometimes when these types of people are placed in an atmosphere such as this nervousness can move in and affect how one speaks. Her breath support is strong, which is surprising, although she is not quite petite so she most likely has the capacity for a larger diaphragm, which would make sense that this tone is her own. She makes good use of each one of her articulators for the most part, but flops on certain words almost hinting at some sort of accent. Although from which specific dialect it’s origination is, I am unsure. Her speech is also interesting to me because of the way she delivers. We talk to people of different status than we in different ways. For instance, you normally wouldn’t talk in the same tone to your supervisor as you would to your small puppy at home. This professor in particular talks to us in the same tone as my 1st grade teacher did to us. Sometimes it’s amusing, and other times it’s cute, but the times I hate it the most is when she’s being rude. She’s so pleasant about it. There’s something dissatisfying about that. I suppose I demand variety in tone of speech in certain settings. I had a supervisor one time that sounded like a 5-year old, come later to find out, that she had done voice work for the Nickelodeon show, ‘Rugrats’; maybe I should make a career-change suggestion to her. I think I’ll wait till the end of the term for that though.
As an umbrella topic, we all talk. We talk to one another and when we’re not talking, generally we’re listening to someone else talk. Whether or not we’re invited to or we’re imposing. When speaking to someone it is polite to make eye contact and express modes of active listening such as agreeing and shaking your head yes or no, based on what the person is saying.
As a person with background in voice talent, I am often amused with not only what people are saying but also how they are saying it. In today's lecture I was lost not in the subject matter but purely in the delivery of it. Specifically, in one of my classes a professor of mine has a particularly high-pitched voice and I often times wonder if it is natural or forced? Several clues allude to whether or not this is her God-given tone, or if she speaks in one based out of emotion. She seems like an introverted person and sometimes when these types of people are placed in an atmosphere such as this nervousness can move in and affect how one speaks. Her breath support is strong, which is surprising, although she is not quite petite so she most likely has the capacity for a larger diaphragm, which would make sense that this tone is her own. She makes good use of each one of her articulators for the most part, but flops on certain words almost hinting at some sort of accent. Although from which specific dialect it’s origination is, I am unsure. Her speech is also interesting to me because of the way she delivers. We talk to people of different status than we in different ways. For instance, you normally wouldn’t talk in the same tone to your supervisor as you would to your small puppy at home. This professor in particular talks to us in the same tone as my 1st grade teacher did to us. Sometimes it’s amusing, and other times it’s cute, but the times I hate it the most is when she’s being rude. She’s so pleasant about it. There’s something dissatisfying about that. I suppose I demand variety in tone of speech in certain settings. I had a supervisor one time that sounded like a 5-year old, come later to find out, that she had done voice work for the Nickelodeon show, ‘Rugrats’; maybe I should make a career-change suggestion to her. I think I’ll wait till the end of the term for that though.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
6am, Fresh.
Lying in bed. Shifting hues of blue softly illuminate the room. Now is somewhat sacred. For with this hour, I am not closely acquainted. Normally, my awareness at this segment of a day is only that I am subconsciously in existence.
Over the past 1200 minutes I’ve pondered things of simplicity. One item probably of little significance to others, the word Sun-day; taken literally. A chaos of associations with the origination of the word have been dazzling around my synapses. For some reason, the one sticking out most to me, is the hunch I have that today is going to be quite sunny, not because it’s San Diego, but because it’s Sun-day.
Each moment that ends when the next begins, anxiety and excitement catch me by the arm. Will I continue this disposition of alertness and witness the instant the room segues from indigo into orange; or will I again slip fast into slumber?
A brief though my mind of dressing and venturing for a morning jog—or brisk walk-- depending on what my body would allow. I am weak. A morning 48 hours prior to this one, waking up was not so pleasant. Excruciating pain stemming from my eye pulsed and spread throughout my body. A trip to the center of ophthalmology and center of diseases and surgeries of the eye informed me of some not-so-fantastic news. A vision-threatening virus had entered and attacked my cornea, which also created a picky-back virus to reside in the rest of my body. Cute, it made itself a companion.
Ah ha! T’is orange! Orange. At 6:44am. It’s evident because the room is now in a neutrally lit stance. Its funny how on the color wheel, blue and orange are opposites. Like man and woman, like cats and dogs. For those of you non-art people, that means they cancel each other out, when placed side-by-side, the other pops. When mixed, they make brown. That was no accident. What an insanely creative artist the Man Upstairs is and how thoughtful. How our eyes were designed to react to such placements of various combinations of hues and to comprehend optical illusions as true. Often times I find myself counting the number of colors stacked on top of the pacific. Beginning from the bottom, up. Probably every time I reach the crossover from “Y” to “G” in “Roy G. BIV”, I get a little giddy. Like being first introduced to the creative acronym. Something about pastel lime in the sky gets me every time. I suppose because when considering the sunrise any other time of the day, “I love the green!” is not what most would say. Maybe its subtlety is what gets me. How slightly yellow slides up to blue, creating a short path of green. And how it somewhat, in a tricky placement of atmosphere from our perspective, seems to defy gravity; for the natural force pulls down, and yet the colors stretch upward and across the sky. I wonder if in heaven, people still have a favorite color?
Over the past 1200 minutes I’ve pondered things of simplicity. One item probably of little significance to others, the word Sun-day; taken literally. A chaos of associations with the origination of the word have been dazzling around my synapses. For some reason, the one sticking out most to me, is the hunch I have that today is going to be quite sunny, not because it’s San Diego, but because it’s Sun-day.
Each moment that ends when the next begins, anxiety and excitement catch me by the arm. Will I continue this disposition of alertness and witness the instant the room segues from indigo into orange; or will I again slip fast into slumber?
A brief though my mind of dressing and venturing for a morning jog—or brisk walk-- depending on what my body would allow. I am weak. A morning 48 hours prior to this one, waking up was not so pleasant. Excruciating pain stemming from my eye pulsed and spread throughout my body. A trip to the center of ophthalmology and center of diseases and surgeries of the eye informed me of some not-so-fantastic news. A vision-threatening virus had entered and attacked my cornea, which also created a picky-back virus to reside in the rest of my body. Cute, it made itself a companion.
Ah ha! T’is orange! Orange. At 6:44am. It’s evident because the room is now in a neutrally lit stance. Its funny how on the color wheel, blue and orange are opposites. Like man and woman, like cats and dogs. For those of you non-art people, that means they cancel each other out, when placed side-by-side, the other pops. When mixed, they make brown. That was no accident. What an insanely creative artist the Man Upstairs is and how thoughtful. How our eyes were designed to react to such placements of various combinations of hues and to comprehend optical illusions as true. Often times I find myself counting the number of colors stacked on top of the pacific. Beginning from the bottom, up. Probably every time I reach the crossover from “Y” to “G” in “Roy G. BIV”, I get a little giddy. Like being first introduced to the creative acronym. Something about pastel lime in the sky gets me every time. I suppose because when considering the sunrise any other time of the day, “I love the green!” is not what most would say. Maybe its subtlety is what gets me. How slightly yellow slides up to blue, creating a short path of green. And how it somewhat, in a tricky placement of atmosphere from our perspective, seems to defy gravity; for the natural force pulls down, and yet the colors stretch upward and across the sky. I wonder if in heaven, people still have a favorite color?
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Your life in a suitcase
They come in all shapes and sizes through words or maybe actions; goodbyes.
Some can be emotional and include great physical contact. Others are like a
cold-read from an actor who belongs behind the lens. Like suitcases, each one serves the same purpose: a place to carry belongings that are somehow essential to the owner. Patterns and sizes may vary but luggage is luggage.
Arrive at the gate, and then the wait. Staring at complete strangers becomes
acceptable and appropriately re-termed 'people watching'.
Everyone is coming or going and that's just a fact of life. A redirection of focus onto
others may mask personal anxiety but does not eliminate it. What
is he thinking? Who is she going to visit?
"flight 1284 service to
San Diego California will begin boarding 1st class at this time", is heard from above.
Were words spoken that needed to be? Was enough time granted to the
longtime land dwellers who potentially may get a one-way to be with
the lord upon your next arrival?
"passengers in all four zones may now board the plane"
why didn't I....
28a. Window seat. A catch 22. A great view and only one neighboring
seater. But passing on the 3rd water offer from the flight attendant
may be beneficial when the seemingly narcoleptic lady
passes out after two sips of her cocktail
Time for take off. Hold on, brace yourself for turbulence, and
pray you land safely at your next destination
Some can be emotional and include great physical contact. Others are like a
cold-read from an actor who belongs behind the lens. Like suitcases, each one serves the same purpose: a place to carry belongings that are somehow essential to the owner. Patterns and sizes may vary but luggage is luggage.
Arrive at the gate, and then the wait. Staring at complete strangers becomes
acceptable and appropriately re-termed 'people watching'.
Everyone is coming or going and that's just a fact of life. A redirection of focus onto
others may mask personal anxiety but does not eliminate it. What
is he thinking? Who is she going to visit?
"flight 1284 service to
San Diego California will begin boarding 1st class at this time", is heard from above.
Were words spoken that needed to be? Was enough time granted to the
longtime land dwellers who potentially may get a one-way to be with
the lord upon your next arrival?
"passengers in all four zones may now board the plane"
why didn't I....
28a. Window seat. A catch 22. A great view and only one neighboring
seater. But passing on the 3rd water offer from the flight attendant
may be beneficial when the seemingly narcoleptic lady
passes out after two sips of her cocktail
Time for take off. Hold on, brace yourself for turbulence, and
pray you land safely at your next destination
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