bossymarmalade: man peeling sugarcane (this our native land)
2015-04-22 10:54 am
Entry tags:

split-tailed mermaid

I have recently started volunteering for a couple hours a week at a Jewish old folks' home, since they had an opening for somebody to arrange their digital music collection and create playlists for the residents and this sounded like stuff that I do for fun anyhow. I'm not Jewish but they don't mind that since there are non-Jewish people among the residents and staff as well, although so far the people I've interacted with have been surprised to find that as a gentile I have a rudimentary knowledge of Jewish culture. Which I found surprising in turn, because I assumed that this was the sort of information that people absorbed naturally? I mean, lots of what I know is from Jewish characters in tv shows and books, and some from documentaries, and some from reading about cooking all the time. I mentioned this to [personal profile] glockgal and she said no, I shouldn't think that people generally know anything about religions/cultures that aren't their own. Her theory is that since we grew up in Trinidad, where we get Hindu and Muslim and Christian holidays off, we thought it was normal and natural to learn about other people's religious observances, but in North America it's not. But anyhow.

I went in for an initial orientation and was fed grapefruit punch, chocolate chip macaroons, and egg matzoh (it was a couple days into Passover) and listened to the coordinator while the teenagers next to me texted under the table. On my first day of actual volunteer work, Lori and I used a groupon to go to La Piazza Dario's, where we split an antipasto plate, fettuccine al pistaccio, and a piece of gateau St. Honore. I had an Italian sour. My volunteer coordinator called to ask if I could, instead of getting started on the music project, come in at 1 to fill in for the volunteer who was supposed to accompany some of the residents to the grocery store, and did I have any wheelchair experience. "Marginal," I said, "and I'm at lunch, I won't be able to get there till 1:30 when I was supposed to come in."

"Oh, they'll wait for you then," the coordinator said, and that's how I found myself crammed in next to a powder-blue walker in the front seat of a private bus filled with seniors as it careened the four blocks to the supermarket and my Italian sour sloshed around in my stomach. The shopping trip itself was faintly nervewracking, as my charge kept standing up from her wheelchair and I drove it alternately too quickly, too slowly, and too close to the shelves in the aisles. But she was a nice lady when all was said and done and paid for, and we joined some of the other ladies at the Starbucks in the grocery.

The lady next to me, Sylvia, was 101 years old and ate a croissant as she showed me her scarf and told me that people kept asking her where she'd bought it, but she couldn't tell them, as it was a gift. Then she started speaking to me in Hindi. It took me a moment to understand what was happening -- she was white, and I only recognize Hindi by sound -- and I had to tell her that I don't speak or understand. "Oh," she said, "I speak fluent Hindustani, I speak it with the girls at the home. I was born in Calcutta, you know, my father worked for Lloyd's of London in the tea trade there." I think she said Lloyd's of London, I'm not sure. I doubt I could have said anything worthwhile in response anyways. She tried a little more Hindi with me and then politely dropped it.

In that entire experience, the most surreal part of it was sitting with somebody who knew India, could speak and understand Hindi, knew Indian culture, and whose family legacy was directly the reason why I, with my brown skin and Hindu family transplanted from the tea to the cane fields, don't have that language and that knowledge. The white daughter of a tea merchant and the brown daughter of indentured labourers, and only one of us had Hindi in her mouth. She was eating her croissant. I was drinking iced tea. Sixty years and the kala pani and our positions in the colonial hierarchy separating us until randomly because some other volunteer couldn't make it, our disparate lifepaths came face-to-face in a Safeway in Vancouver, one rainy Monday afternoon. Our diasporas make strange travelling companions of us all.
bossymarmalade: bart simpson hopes for a prize in the cereal box (you gotta be lucky *sometime*)
2014-06-19 07:52 am
Entry tags:

mate the dog with the cat

The landlords have agreed to renew our rental lease in August instead of making us move out, yaaaay! The change came due to a death in the family on their part, which is sad, of course -- I would have preferred if they'd changed their minds due to less awful reasons -- but still, I'm happy we get to stay here for at least another year.

Other things going on with me:

[ this first section is mental health stuff, so skip down to the next if you'd prefer ]

- I've been suffering anxiety for a couple of years now, after getting out of a +20-yr friendship that had become toxic, getting in an accident that totalled my beloved car, moving twice, having my new car vandalized, losing my job, finding a job, and having our new place broken into and our laptops stolen. It's gotten down to a more manageable place, but my work offers employees free counselling and access to a CBT program (the employee program is acronymmed "EFAP" and the CBT thing is called "Beating the Blues" so I can't help but view it all as faintly masturbatory, heh), so we'll see how that goes. On the initial visit the counsellor told me to not get angry at my anxiety or frustrated with myself for still feeling it and not having "moved on" yet, so that in itself was a help because I hadn't seen it that way.

- CAT. [personal profile] glockgal is allergic and neither of us ever wanted to deal with a litterbox and all that before, but we have enough room and the energy/finances to own a cat now, so we've been getting the house ready for one. Lori ordered a Modkat, I bought a Litter Locker, we're sourcing out making the bulk of kitty's food, comparing reviews of litters, and making toys for her, and since we can't find a decent cat tree that's not covered in carpet, I'm gonna Ikea-hack one.

We do not actually have a cat yet of any sort, but we figure while we look, might as well get the house prepared. We've been trying to adopt one from the SPCA but man, those cats go fast! There's been about three so far that we've attempted to get but been cockblocked on, gdi.

- Midsommar! According to our Swedish friend Tobi who lives upstairs, Midsummer is the Swedenest thing ever and he insists that we celebrate it as a household. So tomorrow night we will be barbecuing, drinking, and apparently dancing around a maypole (we've been told the dancing is non-optional). I'm hoping that the people that Tobi and Dasha have invited will bring their dogs, a pocket beagle named Cooper and a shiba inu named Mochi, to hang out with our household Portugese water dog, Mishka. Last time Mochi was visiting, Lori'd opened the door of our suite and she just marched in and explored the place with Mishka trotting behind her, and then when she left Lori was like "THAT IS THE BEST THING THAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IN MY ENTIRE LIFE", so.

Tobi has also promised that he's making mustard-pickled herring and gravlax, and since Tobi's gravlax made with our Pacific Northwest salmon is one of the most incredible foods I've ever tasted, I am very much looking forward to this!
bossymarmalade: a rainbow over a pier (urban rainbows and fishing villages)
2013-11-19 02:18 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)







My friend said it was raining and beautiful in South Florida where he is, and I said it was sunny and windy in Vancouver where I am, and then we ended up taking pictures. So here are yard views from diagonally across the continent.
bossymarmalade: zoidberg is terrified (*terrified lobster noise*)
2012-12-22 07:59 am
Entry tags:

(no subject)

What I have always feared re: Facebook has finally come to pass -- a person I last knew in junior high has found me and wants to meet up for tea next time he's in Vancouver!!

This request came very suddenly after two minutes of messaging "whereabouts in Vancouver do you live, we should meet next time I'm there", and omg y'all, you must understand why I am so leery, because this is Trevor C__.

Trevor C__ was an affected, watching kind of boy who was obsessed with Anne Frank in Grade 7, when I was friends with him most. I don't mean he was touched by her story and her bravery. I mean he wanted to play Anne Frank all the time (with him as Anne) and the only decorations in his room were a cross and a pencil crayon reproduction of that photo of Anne Frank from the cover of her autobiography that he ordered one Scholastic book drive year. (I perhaps shouldn't judge him too singularly on that count, since sometimes it seemed to me that most Anglo white boys between the ages of 12 and 19 had a pressing interest in all things Nazi -- either that, or there was a preponderance of the type in my area.)

I was over at his house only a few times because he had a Ghostbusters computer game and a trampoline. Once we had hot dogs on paper Chinet plates which we scrupulously washed and dried afterwards. He had a grandmother in a wheelchair who would hiss for him to come aside while she talked to him about confusing, disturbing things in a piercing whisper, watching me the whole time. If you wanted to play on the trampoline, his father made you sign a waiver that exempted the C__ family from responsibility for not only your possible loss of limb and motor function, but also your "sexual drive".

Welcome to Canadian Gothic, folks.

You can see why I haven't been on Facebook since, heh, even though it seems that he's dampened down the Anne Frank (I still remember how he used to say it, in throaty blocks that he imagined was the correct Dutch pronunciation) and dialed up the Anglophile, having added many precious turns of phrase to his own Facebook entries.

This was a long and possibly quite dull way of saying -- I know nothing about Facebook. If I unfriend him or whatever, does that mean he can no longer see my entries or message me? Help me, Obi-Wan friendslist!!
bossymarmalade: burns answers the phone (a-hoy hoy)
2012-12-04 08:38 am
Entry tags:

(no subject)



That, friends, accurately sums up how I've been feeling for the better part of the year -- certainly since I totally changed my living situation after constant movement among three different homes, had my first panic attack due to a traumatic social situation, and had the accident at the end of May (on my mom's birthday, hah) that destroyed my precious beloved first car. Being unaccustomed to identifying my mental state as fragile and requiring help (don't even get me started on the stigma in desi communities when it comes to mental health issues), this has been very trying for me to manage.

But! There are hopefully also good things afoot at work and so forth, and living with [personal profile] glockgal has been glorious, and I was reading some of my DW circle and missing you all, so. I'm trying to make a concerted effort to get back into more social media than just RPing on tumblr, which is very fun, but lacks the depth of journaling.

(Of course there are some things about journaling that added to my stress in the first place, but I think now I can probably manage them better after having had some time away, heh.)

So hello again, y'all! Time for me to figure out who's changed their DW name to what!!
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (Default)
2012-01-03 12:30 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

GOOD DAY DREAMWIDTH

So! After a year's worth of draggy, confused disappointment and frustration and self-doubt piled on top of another, I am finally feeling like freshness and light and change are upon me. I know enough about myself at this point to realize that I experience this in cycles, and I'm on an upswing right now and want to keep it going -- some major life changes are going to help with that as well -- and so, I think, will a return to DW journalling. I missed y'all!

And to begin, I am wondering if any of you have read this book:

. An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace by Tamar E. Adler

-- and have recs/anti-recs to make? I love love LOVE the food writing genre, but I'm wary of books written by wealthy privileged people that condescendingly exhort the reader to "live simply" and "buy only fresh produce" and "go to market" oh la dee dah darling. If you know what I mean. *g*
bossymarmalade: buffy summers & willow rosenberg at college (you can smell the benzene)
2011-03-03 11:51 am

a dervish of declension and conjurer of conjugation

I am at this point right now in French where I resent everything -- I resent UBC for making me take a stupid 2-year language requirement to graduate, I resent my stupid class being at 7 pm on a Tuesday out on the other side of god's country, I resent having to drag myself back and forth between there and home and work with gas and parking being so expensive.

I am, dear friendslist, at the point where the other night while biting my nails and counting down to when I had to leave for class, I thought, maybe i don't even *care* if i fail this class and I was filled with such utter whole-body relief that I honestly think I'm just going to ... not go for the rest of the semester. Fortunately it's one of those pass/fail dealies that doesn't affect your GPA, so, y'know, just fuck it. I'll try over the summer to get this language requirement waived or some shit, goddammit I'm a "mature student", they should be able to fuckin' grandfather me in or some jazz like that.

... whew. That felt really good to get off my chest. *g*

I have meanwhile been watching a lot of fun garbage tv like Gossip Girl and Pretty Little Liars and Justified and Young Justice and Glee and Kanye West videos, eating incredible food ever since I discovered Groupon, trying to wear mascara for the first time in my life, and punking around on the Media Education Foundation website. Their videos are SUPER-expensive, but I discovered that you can read transcripts of them! Which is really excellent. Right now I'm in the middle of I Am A Man: Black Masculinity in America and learning stuff that I'm a lot more interested in than fucking French (no offence, Francophones).
bossymarmalade: girl with clear eyes and secret smile (multibeautiful my friend)
2010-12-30 11:49 am
Entry tags:

is that blimp accurate?!?

It's been a busy holiday season for me, dear ones, but thank you so very much for the birthday wishes! I appreciate each and every one.

Haven't had much of a chance to read challenge fics (apart from the two incredible ones written for me, which I will gush about in a separate recs post), plus this year I didn't do Sesa or Yuletart and I feel slightly barren, heh.

Still -- and I know it's slightly early for old year's night proclamations, but whatevs -- I am happy to see the last of 2010. This was a year where I was extremely socially inert even though I traveled at least once every quarter, where everything felt like it was too much pressure and anxiety, where it felt like I was simultaneously overwhelmed and getting nothing accomplished.

But in the past couple of months I've been reconnecting with old friends and wanting to go out, spend time with them, actually do things, and it's a feeling of excitement and energy that I think I've been missing for the past two years!

So now it's plenty of champagne and making the most of my impromptu two weeks off for the hols due to an unusual amount of banked vacation time. Best to all of you, and see you on the other side!
bossymarmalade: commander adora doing jazz hands (we got spirit in eternia!)
2010-12-02 11:15 am
Entry tags:

baby could order poison!!

So I was wondering, y'all -- what's your most peculiar "occupational hazard" (in which I include those not at formal paid work)?

For example, this post is brought to you by the fact that no less than TWO babies have already telephoned me for the morning.

(I'm the receptionist at an infant development programme, and although the consultants mostly do home visits, families call the switchboard a lot and I guess there are a bunch of 0-3 year-olds out there who like to hit redial on the family phone. Meaning BABIES KEEP TELEPHONING ME.)

ETA: omg, now I am torn between asking people in the comments for further explanation and just leaving the comments there, unexplained, in all their bizarre glory!!
bossymarmalade: rose petals falling on crowd in rajasthan (grant me this boon)
2010-09-23 12:56 pm

toss me the speech centre of the brain!

HI THERE PEOPLES HI

I spent a fabulous whirlwind weekend in the T-Dot attending my cousin Derek's wedding, which was also an informal and wholly lovable reunion for the Sammy side of the fam (as opposed to the unholy and demoralizing Ragnarök that was the Ramkhelawan reunion in Texas). Also my brother took us to Drupati's and in addition to doubles and kurma and Peardrax, I had a motherfucking shark-and-bake. Oh god yes.

Other things that make life good (and apologies for not recalling who linked them originally):

. Cedar & Bamboo, the link between Chinese Canadians and First Nations peoples in Coast Salish Territories/BC. I am so excited about this film I can hardly contain myself.

!!!!!!!

. East West Players' performance of Mysterious Skin: I love JGL in this movie like nobody's business (and am SERIOUSLY glad that Gregg Araki didn't get his usual muse James Duvall to play Neil, *shudder*), but y'all I am just gonna go ahead here and say that right now Asians make everything better to me. GodDAMN I would love to see this production, but will just content myself with being happy that it exists.

. this cat

. this cat

. going to Hell's Gate with the bffs and getting two pounds of free fudge, then going to see Celtic Fantasy (or as we called it, Celtic TUNDERRR) and ditching the church halfway through because there's only so much you can take of hearing somebody's "silver tones" before you start to wish she'd fallen into a cave in the Hebrides a-comin' thro' the rye.

. aang/toph, tim/bart, rizzoli/isles


In conclusion, I love you all.
bossymarmalade: krusty the clown loves being on fire (feeling my flesh melt is faboo!)
2010-07-22 09:28 am
Entry tags:

why didn't she just leave me the bowel obstruction that killed her

Back from family reunion and +100-degree weather in Texas and awful, awful birds that lurked under cars in parking lots with their beaks open to keep cool. Now that I'm back, I realize I need to revise part of my pre-reunion post:

"...Maternal Family, who all put on airs and talk about how wonderful they are and carry grudges until death. They're like Lucille Bluth and Emily Gilmore but without the fun and compassion.

... Okay, not *all* of them are like this, but there's a distinct meanness to them that I'm not looking forward to."

You know when you're seeing unpleasant people, so you prepare yourself and come up with little scathing retorts and whatnot, and feel pretty confident about not getting flustered? Well, my maternal family finds BRAND NEW UNEXPECTED WAYS to be nasty to you, fucking up all your wretched hopeful defences. They also have fantastic excuses for when they've been cruel to you:

MY MOM: "It's just a JOKE! Why do you have to take things so SERIOUSLY!!"
MY AUNT: "Just remember y'all, if I say things that sound pissed off or mean, it COMES FROM A PLACE OF LOVE."

YOU PEOPLE DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW JOKES AND/OR LOVE WORK I'M GUESSING

Also I got heatstroke while we were at the Dallas Heritage Village, which was dreadful and humiliating and went like this:

COSTUMED TOUR GUIDE WEARING AN ORANGE SHIRT AND SUSPENDERS BUT ALSO A HIPSTER QUIFF AND GLASSES: -- and here you can see the marks of the Sullivans' carpet, because this is the part of their Victorian house (oh sorry the aircon's not working today) that they kept curtained off with these huge heavy red curtains here to keep it private, and in here you can see some celluloid cases for pills, and hey by the way they also used celluloid in making billiard balls, and the thing is that if you hit one of the celluloid balls too hard it would EXPLODE--
ME [attempting not to vomit or faint]: Um, I'm really enjoying this and I'm really sorry to cut you off, but I REALLY have to go outside and get some air--
CTG: Oh! Okay, I don't blame you, there's some air-conditioned buildings out here if you just walk to the left there and you'll find a General Store where it'll probably be better than out here in the Sullivan House--
ME: [makes it around the corner of the porch to the shade, lies down like a stricken heifer]

To make all of this worse, somehow the best meal I had for the *entire vacation* was an Irish Breakfast dealie at a pub in the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.

I'm glad to be back, but I still feel kind of exhausted and stressed-out, so if I don't answer comments and whatnot please bear with me for a bit, dear friends!

ETA: But do feel free to vent about your own families in the comments if you like, misery being a companionable pastime and all. It makes me feel better. *g*
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (why you shouldn't teach lessons)
2010-07-14 10:10 am
Entry tags:

seymour, come home right away! the refrigerator's too loud!

ZOMG YAY WACKY HINDU GODS LOL



I am just gonna post this picture whenever my life feels too fucking ridiculous to handle. Because nothing is more ridiculous than this picture.

Dear friends, as if it wasn't stressful enough that I'm covering for two people at work right now plus being directly supervised by the office bully, the wee sister and I are heading off to a Family Reunion for the weekend. This would be fine if it were Paternal Family, who are all very dark and warm and jolly and love each other. Unfortunately, it is Maternal Family, who all put on airs and talk about how wonderful they are and carry grudges until death. They're like Lucille Bluth and Emily Gilmore but without the fun and compassion.

... Okay, not *all* of them are like this, but there's a distinct meanness to them that I'm not looking forward to.

PLUS we will be in rural panhandle Texas, in a little dry town (a DRY TOWN! And us, West Indians!! This WILL NOT DO) in what I assume will be sweltering heat.

WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS
bossymarmalade: commander adora doing jazz hands (we got spirit in eternia!)
2010-06-10 02:54 pm
Entry tags:

i shaved my legs to the knee for *this*?!?

I shaved my legs this morning for no reason, as it is grey and gross outside. I like the cold better than the heat, but this on-again off-again weather is driving me to distraction. At any rate, it wasn't a waste of motions because I use Nivea for Men foam, and there's something so unctuously pleasing about dispensing a snow-white blob of mousse from that austere navy blue canister, feeling it resist and then give under my palm pressed against my shin.

For an afternoon snack am eating cottage cheese and disturbingly large strawberries macerated with a wee bit of demerara (not mixed, eiw*). It'll be nice when the local strawberries are in season, teensy fragile pops of sweetness instead of these cottony brutes, but there was some SNOW today in parts of Burnaby and I don't even know what to think about that so I won't.

(For those interested in such things, here's what I ate earlier: two multigrain Wasa crispbreads, one with ricotta and one with avocado, both with liberal amounts of salt and black pepper; couscous and barbecued pork with cucumber-and-tomato salad dressed in olive oil; three Werthers' chocolate-and-toffee thingies.)

Also, while wandering around the internet today it occurred to me that this is the main thing I've learned from fandom: eventually, through enough name-changes and anonymous fic exchanges, you will be on the giving or receiving end of enjoying/reccing a fic by somebody you hate or used to hate. I myself have been on either side of the equation, and it's done me good in terms of both vindication and humility. I highly recommend it!

*immediately after writing this i poured some of the strawberry syrup on my cottage cheese to convince myself how terrible it would be, and it wasn't, and now i'm angry
bossymarmalade: burns answers the phone (a-hoy hoy)
2010-04-20 09:20 pm
Entry tags:

why did i drink so much crab juice?

If something important has happened to you in the last week and (by any chance) you're wondering why I haven't had the consideration to comment, it's because I was in New York. Yes, [personal profile] glockgal was headed out there to do her Racebending thing and wistfully mentioned that I should come too, and I checked my accounts and took a deep breath and bought a ticket. Because wow was I ever feeling like I needed to get out of this burg and away from everything for a bit!

Anyhow, we kept it on the down-low from friends and family because there was more than enough to fill up our brief time there (and especially with cathybites and celestialsoda, one of whom I've known forever and one of whom I just met for reals and whom I both adore). Back home now and tired but happy, too much to face scrolling back and back through the ol' friendslist, heh.

Things wot I was able to try finally:
- new york cheesecake
- chocolate egg cream
- new york pizza
- cannoli
- half-sour pickles
- new york bagels
- challah french toast
- corned beef hash (w/real corned beef)
- coffee from a bag (er, the coffee itself wasn't exactly new, but the experience of having my coffee cup placed in a brown paper bag was! in vancouver they just hand you the cup; a paper bag is not even an option)

We didn't manage to acquire celery tonic (being too tired and rushed to actually *eat* at Katz's), and I was too discombobulated to buy a cubano from the sandwich place, and I forgot about tostones and kugel and ssam altogether, but oh well. Next time.

Hope it's been a decent week for y'all! Apologies if I've missed anything very important.
bossymarmalade: the wry virgin of guadalupe (la morenita)
2010-03-12 12:06 pm
Entry tags:

i'm not gay! i'm nothing yet!

Also (and it is a testament to how very uncomfortable I am with talking about this sort of thing with people in person that this is my first mention of it EVER), I am starting to suspect that I might be asexual? Which is confusing, because I can't even tell if this puts me into the category of queer, or if I have to specifically identify as gay or straight first, or if there's a whole different category for asexuality, or ... shit, I don't even know. Everything I've read about asexuality/autosexuality contradicts the other stuff. All I know is I really like to think about people (ranging over genders) having sex, but never involving *me*. I have utterly no desire to physically have any of it myself ever again. But I still find lots of things hot.

The thought of saying this to people only to have them counter with, "oh but you haven't had ENOUGH/the right KIND of sex" or "you're just AVOIDANT/have MENTAL HEALTH issues" or "you probably just DON'T FEEL ATTRACTIVE" or "you just need to find the RIGHT GUY" is so anxiety-making, y'all. Not that I'm ever very forthcoming about my sexuality to begin with -- which leads to stuff like people at film school or the women's studies dept assuming I'm a lesbian, and most other people assuming I have "failed to catch a man" -- but all the same.

How the hell do I end this post?

Oh, I know! I was reading the Visions newsletter and came across a link to Sher Vancouver, which I totally didn't even know existed. Very cool.

Er, I haven't locked/privatized this post. I figure if I'm gonna actually verbalize this, I might as well get it all out there, eh?

*awkward whistling*
bossymarmalade: lisa simpson is left behind (don't ask me - i'm just a girl)
2010-01-05 02:13 pm
Entry tags:

mathematics of wonton burrito meals

So!

I have started off the new year by failing my Hindi class!

No, no -- technically, I ended last year by doing that. That December exam was the most awful and nerve-wracking test I've written since I was a wee girl in Catholic school and getting a low grade meant a proportionate number of slaps with a ruler.

I choose to look at this as a good thing. I will no longer make myself miserable by struggling through this class and feeling inadequate as each day chips away at my academic ego, and I have learned the valuable lesson that I should never ever EVER do anything with my parents where being this self-conscious will fuck up my grades. (Er, not that I'm blaming my dad being there for my failing, but it sure didn't help.)

I don't know what I'm gonna do about the student loans -- those people are really nasty when, y'know, shit happens and you have to change your schedule mid-term -- but I'll tell you a dumb little story: one of my co-workers abandoned this totally stupid deck of Angel Oracle Cards in the breakroom at work months ago. And when I say stupid, I mean that it has illustrations of angels in wedding dresses and riding unicorns and tickling koalas and shit like that. But eventually out of boredom we all started using them, and they have over the months proved uncannily accurate. Out of desperation and looming terror at having to return to class today, I checked them yesterday at work and scoffed at the card I pulled, which seemed completely irrelevant.

And it was "Time to Go".

Most of the time I'm good at doing what the universe tells me to do, but I balked at having messages delivered via paintings of angels with suitcases and figured the cards didn't know what the fuck they were saying. I guess this whole thing is a lesson in humility, too. *g*
bossymarmalade: nani is scandalized (nani is scandalized!)
2009-09-11 10:10 am
Entry tags:

maggie loves baby-talk

Here is what I learned in my first Hindi class yesterday: आपका नाम क्या है? Our professor has warned us that we are not to use Roman letters "on pain of public humiliation", so only Devanagari script. So far I only know those letters, heh. To be quite honest, I'm terrified of this entire thing; I've been taking classes that used the social-analysis bit of my brain for so long that trying to crank up the rote-learning bit is tough going. However, my dad seems delighted by this development and has now started talking to me in his gentle Trinidad-accented Hinglish, which is kind of ... new. And weird. He has also started writing his autobiography, or something, possibly in ruler-straight draftsman all-caps. But then my dad has always been a little wacky.

Also! This is but one of the reasons I love [personal profile] ciderpress so very much. My favourite part:
It is a mistake, a common one, to believe that the status quo, that 'normal thinking' is not a highly political ideology. It's a mistake to think that white-as-default views, male-as-default views, middle-class+ default views, economically privileged views, heteronormative views, able-bodied views, cisgendered views and opinions are pan-human rather than a particular politicised ideology about society and the people in it.

I foolishly volunteered to help put together a Diversity Workshop at work (the other three people in the group designing the workshop are white, ahahahah) and I might just steal this wholesale. I suspect there are folks to whom "Your POV as a White Woman is not Objective or Neutral" might be revolutionary.
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (Default)
2009-01-20 11:15 am
Entry tags:

i just discovered our president elect got an f in second grade gym class!

I came into work late so I could stay home this morning and watch the inauguration. I'm trying to think of what to say, and I can't, and it's because what I feel is so overwhelming.

So let's try this: when I was five years old, my family lived in Downer's Grove, Illinois. We loved it there; my mother still has good friends from the street we lived on. If it weren't for my father's need to change locations to follow the jobs, we wouldn't have moved. I still recall reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in kindergarten.

Today, I can remember how much I loved that flag, loved that neighbourhood, loved the country that I thought was going to be mine. For most of my adult & political life I haven't felt much more than cynicism about that. I certainly don't regret that we moved or that my citizenship is what it is, but I am beyond delighted to feel that love again for my neighbours and the hope that this new administration represents.

... plus I brought Pocky to the office to celebrate. Whoo-hoo! Suck it, Bush & Cheney! Suck it for eternity!!
bossymarmalade: gwen cooper is opinionated (and i'm feeling nosy and opinionated)
2008-07-29 09:30 am
Entry tags:

mighty robots of battlestar galactica vs the gay robots from star wars

Okay, so -- last weekend was ComicCon. Which I wanted to go to for the experience, and although it was neat I have to say that WOW do I ever prefer smaller cons.

However! I got to see a really cool panel about costume design, actually got into the Dexter panel, and thanks to [livejournal.com profile] kadymae got a great seat between her and [livejournal.com profile] divalea for the Eisners, where I bemusedly witnessed Samuel L. Jackson presenting Gerard Way with an award (he was very sweet, bandommers).

I also got to stay in a Suite of Awesome with [livejournal.com profile] cathybites, [livejournal.com profile] loveflyfree, [livejournal.com profile] sarahcascade, [livejournal.com profile] silvrsolace and the sister, and even better (and under his great duress) we had [livejournal.com profile] tbranch at the same hotel. Both of my con experiences have involved Tom, Cathy, and Reg, and I think I like that pattern. It keeps me sane. Especially when I get all migrainey and have to spend an ENTIRE DAY in bed recuperating, wtf. Plus I got to meet [livejournal.com profile] ethrosdemon, which was nice if brief!

At any rate, I'm happy I got to finally meet Kate after knowing her online for a little over a decade (oh, those long-ago GEEB days!!) even if I was too sick to make it to the impromptu Tart meeting. And the Wee Sister and I had a lovely posh dinner for her birthday, and the Bongo booth was giving out Lisa Simpson fans on the day I went to the exhibit hall, and I saw Ianto wandering into the men's room. So, y'know. Good times. *g*
bossymarmalade: blue eye with lashes of red flower petals (it's not all war and asps)
2008-05-16 01:01 pm
Entry tags:

jimmy joe-joe!!

So some dude is staying at my house right now; he is in town for a family friend's wedding, and apparently he went to grammar school with my father sixty years ago back in Trinidad. Which means that right now he and my dad are in the kitchen cooking dhal and rice, singing old songs, and having conversations with no sense of sarcasm such as the following:

DAD: I used to go around with a fella name Bim, and another one -- Bholan Bholan. You know him?
DUDE: Yeah.
DAD: Bholan Bholan?
DUDE: Yeah. We use to call him Bholan.

WTF, y'all.

At any rate, I got a crown put on my tooth this morning (following a horrible experience last December when my porcelain crumbled while I was eating Rice Krispies, meaning that I attempted to chew them for a while before realizing the shards weren't cereal) and am now heading off for a side-by-side pedicure with la mere. In my middling age I have discovered ways to spend time with my mother without both of us wanting the other one dead by the end of the experience, svaha.