Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Oh Dear... And other random musings.
It looks like I have been consistently hitting writing plateaus. Hey, at least I deliver exactly what I promise: a highly inconsistent writing schedule. Winter is here, Seattle has been uncharacteristically kind with the weather, and life, in general, has been slow and gentle. However, things are due to pick up again pretty soon, as I prepare to relocate (yet again) in order to avoid the five miles of traffic that I hit on my way home from work. The bad thing about this is that my blog should technically be renamed into "Klueless in Lynnwood," since that is where I will be moving. Sigh. There was something romantic about living in the city. Now the romance will be wiped out in favor of 1. cheaper rent 2. shorter commute and 3. savings on gas. But hey, I'll have a whole new area to explore! The good part about moving is that I will be able to run during lunch hour now. My running habit has been nearly eradicated by early nightfall. Call me a wuss -- not wanting to run when it's dark. I like to think of myself as safety-conscious. In the meantime, I use the access card graciously given to me by a property across the street from where I work to utilize their fabulous fitness center. Speaking of which, it's treadmill time. Off I go. Hopefully to return relatively soon and not in another 6-12 months.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Where Do I Begin... Again
It's been 9 months since I've written a post. Life has a way of flying by. When I realized what my last post was about it made me crack up. If anyone is curious, I only lasted in that job for three weeks after posting my "Signs It's Time To Quit Your Job." Not because of the post, but because I was lucky enough to finally score my dream job. Right before and after that, life became a whirlwind. Between moving apartments and learning new responsibilities I've abandoned a lot of the things I used to love before, such as writing. But in the process I've also picked up a few new hobbies, such as running. Life is tremendously different from a year ago, and frankly I don't know where to start with my thoughts, but I guess something is better than nothing at all. I think I'm ready to include my old hobby in my new schedule again. Once again, no promises to write on a regular basis. But I will try my best.
Still loving my Seattle. Still dreaming of New York.
Still loving my Seattle. Still dreaming of New York.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Signs it's Time to Quit Your Job
• You function best on days when your brain is completely fried and you can’t think.
• Your supervisor seriously suspects that you’re a spy planted in the company to observe the ED.
• No matter which direction you turn, you see gray cubicle.
• Your first thought in the morning is a GL code.
• The thought of being fired brings an underlying feeling of relief.
• You drink 8 cups of liquid a day. The liquid is coffee.
• You’ve been meaning to update the Assistant Manual. For the last two and a half years.
• It takes you longer to write down what you are doing/have done and communicate it to everyone who needs to know than to actually do it.
• The ten minute run to Jimmy Johns is the best part of your workday.
• Nobody notices when you don’t show up one day.
• However, the next day the director calls you into his office to discuss how irresponsible of you it was to be three minutes late.
• Three meetings with various members of “the team” are required to approve the new kitchen duty schedule.
• You ask the “online specialist” about a simple excel formula. Three days later he and the director are discussing whether it is safe to recruit IT department for help with the formula. You google the formula and get it in ten minutes. The information they are trying to keep confidential from IT is public record.
• You volunteer to become an integral part of a new process. After completion of the process director hosts a lunch to thank everyone involved in the process. He thanks everyone involved in the process by name, except for you. He thanks YOU for arranging the lunch.
• You have an idea and share it with the team. Two months later your supervisor “comes up” with the aforementioned idea. A year later the director “comes up” with it as well. Two years later the department implements the change and calls themselves an “innovator.”
• You are looking for a client e-mail to get them some information. Instead you stumble on their obituary. You laugh and think it’s great that they’re now all set and don’t need the information anymore.
• Your supervisor seriously suspects that you’re a spy planted in the company to observe the ED.
• No matter which direction you turn, you see gray cubicle.
• Your first thought in the morning is a GL code.
• The thought of being fired brings an underlying feeling of relief.
• You drink 8 cups of liquid a day. The liquid is coffee.
• You’ve been meaning to update the Assistant Manual. For the last two and a half years.
• It takes you longer to write down what you are doing/have done and communicate it to everyone who needs to know than to actually do it.
• The ten minute run to Jimmy Johns is the best part of your workday.
• Nobody notices when you don’t show up one day.
• However, the next day the director calls you into his office to discuss how irresponsible of you it was to be three minutes late.
• Three meetings with various members of “the team” are required to approve the new kitchen duty schedule.
• You ask the “online specialist” about a simple excel formula. Three days later he and the director are discussing whether it is safe to recruit IT department for help with the formula. You google the formula and get it in ten minutes. The information they are trying to keep confidential from IT is public record.
• You volunteer to become an integral part of a new process. After completion of the process director hosts a lunch to thank everyone involved in the process. He thanks everyone involved in the process by name, except for you. He thanks YOU for arranging the lunch.
• You have an idea and share it with the team. Two months later your supervisor “comes up” with the aforementioned idea. A year later the director “comes up” with it as well. Two years later the department implements the change and calls themselves an “innovator.”
• You are looking for a client e-mail to get them some information. Instead you stumble on their obituary. You laugh and think it’s great that they’re now all set and don’t need the information anymore.
Friday, July 23, 2010
How to stay out of a Chase Bank’s “Helpful Associate’s” Credit Card Chair.
The irony of this post (but perhaps such that gives me even more credibility) is that I don’t bank at Chase. I have no idea or opinion about their services. But I have walked into the bank many times with a complacent friend of mine and had to wait up to 20 minutes for her to get out after an inevitable attack of associates left one afraid to enter the edifice of Chase. Due to this, I have developed an excellent strategy for getting rid of them. I am now officially her bodyguard. No associate has been able to make me open an account with Chase or even get me in their Chair. Moreover, she banks in under 5 minutes now. Below are the helpful steps that will keep you safe from opening another credit card that you have been “pre-approved” for and getting out of the building faster:
1.Prepare all materials you will need to bank ahead of time.
2.Upon entry into the bank, immediately locate and go to the self-service table with slips.
3.DO NOT make eye contact with any bank associates lurking outside the glass-protected counters.
4.If asked what brings you in today, make your answer short and sweet. Preferably one-word.
5.When the associate says “I can help you right over here” politely decline and state that you will be all-set at the window.
6.Whatever you do, do NOT go to their desk!!!
7.If prompted more aggressively, stop being polite.
8.Even if there is a line at the windows, I guarantee you that you will get out of there faster by waiting in line than by being helped by an associate at their desk.
9.If possible, bring a friend responsible solely for interacting with aforementioned associates and getting rid of them while you calmly fill out your forms without making a mistake on one of them.
10.“Chase Bank” is clearly called so because their associates chase after you as soon as you enter through the door.
1.Prepare all materials you will need to bank ahead of time.
2.Upon entry into the bank, immediately locate and go to the self-service table with slips.
3.DO NOT make eye contact with any bank associates lurking outside the glass-protected counters.
4.If asked what brings you in today, make your answer short and sweet. Preferably one-word.
5.When the associate says “I can help you right over here” politely decline and state that you will be all-set at the window.
6.Whatever you do, do NOT go to their desk!!!
7.If prompted more aggressively, stop being polite.
8.Even if there is a line at the windows, I guarantee you that you will get out of there faster by waiting in line than by being helped by an associate at their desk.
9.If possible, bring a friend responsible solely for interacting with aforementioned associates and getting rid of them while you calmly fill out your forms without making a mistake on one of them.
10.“Chase Bank” is clearly called so because their associates chase after you as soon as you enter through the door.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A Trip To The Oregon Coast
There’s no better way to spend the weekend for a Seattlite than a road trip down the Oregon Coast with a friend. That’s exactly what my friend and I decided to embark on one warm weekend at the end of March. We have carefully planned out a hefty supply of food and took an ample amount of blankets and pillows along, fully intending to sleep in the car and not spend any money eating out. With an adventurous mindset, and a load of promises from me that it will be the most spectacular scenic drive in ages, we got into my beat up Corolla and drove off into the sunlight.
The sunlight lasted for about an hour and a half. Just enough time for us to get off the freeway and onto one of the smaller roads leading to the coast. The rest of the day was covered by grey clouds with some sort of light beaming through, but nothing that would qualify as sunlight or beautiful. By the time we got to the coast it began to rain. After driving for a couple hours to a lighthouse I’ve wanted to check out for a while, we have finally arrived at the desired viewpoint by Cannon Beach. By then it was windy and hailing. To the point that up on top of the viewpoint both of us leaned on the wind at a 45 degree angle without falling down! The ocean roared as waves crashed against the rocks with freaky magnitude. Cool, yes, but not so much considering we were expecting glorious sunsets and warm beaches accompanied by a gentle splashing of waves on the sand.
After taking a few attempts at photographing the madness, we got cold and went down to Cannon Beach – a small coastal town filled primarily with retired rich people and young families with children and dogs. For a little while we wandered around, trying to figure out if there is a place we could park for the night. Soon feeling like complete bums, we looked at each other and instantly decided that we will end up getting a motel room for the night after all. Settling on a safe-looking , not too pricey place, we unloaded the blankets and the food in our trunk… And went out to eat in a local sea-food restaurant. The dinner was spectacular, as was our walk on the beach afterwards. With the shops closed and the town emptying out completely by 9p.m., there was nothing left to do but go to sleep, which we gladly did.
We were awoken at 3a.m. by tapping on the window. And by tapping I mean something along the lines of a jackhammer breaking into the roof. My friend sat up in horror and asked what the heck I think it is. “Seagulls.” I don’t even know how I knew that while being half asleep and half panicked from the noise myself. The tapping continued throughout the night, accompanied by rain, hail, and the roaring of the ocean. The morning revealed a beautiful painting of seagulls hanging above the bed that neither of us paid much attention to the night before. Either the irony of life was incredible or someone decorating that place had a very good sense of humor.
You’d hope that my story ends by saying that the next day was beautiful and we got to see the sun and the scenic views after all. Prepare to be disappointed! No such thing happened. In fact, at one point we passed what seemed like it should’ve been an incredible viewpoint. There were three large entrances, and it was located on a cliff. “I guess this is supposed to be beautiful,” my friend mumbled. The road was covered in fog from top to bottom. We couldn’t even see the water, much less separate it from the sky! We drove down for another hour and a half, visited another rainy, windy lighthouse, and went home. I highly recommend that everyone visit the Oregon Coast at least once in their lifetime! The scenery is beautiful and the sunsets are unmatched. Just don’t do it in March :)
The sunlight lasted for about an hour and a half. Just enough time for us to get off the freeway and onto one of the smaller roads leading to the coast. The rest of the day was covered by grey clouds with some sort of light beaming through, but nothing that would qualify as sunlight or beautiful. By the time we got to the coast it began to rain. After driving for a couple hours to a lighthouse I’ve wanted to check out for a while, we have finally arrived at the desired viewpoint by Cannon Beach. By then it was windy and hailing. To the point that up on top of the viewpoint both of us leaned on the wind at a 45 degree angle without falling down! The ocean roared as waves crashed against the rocks with freaky magnitude. Cool, yes, but not so much considering we were expecting glorious sunsets and warm beaches accompanied by a gentle splashing of waves on the sand.
After taking a few attempts at photographing the madness, we got cold and went down to Cannon Beach – a small coastal town filled primarily with retired rich people and young families with children and dogs. For a little while we wandered around, trying to figure out if there is a place we could park for the night. Soon feeling like complete bums, we looked at each other and instantly decided that we will end up getting a motel room for the night after all. Settling on a safe-looking , not too pricey place, we unloaded the blankets and the food in our trunk… And went out to eat in a local sea-food restaurant. The dinner was spectacular, as was our walk on the beach afterwards. With the shops closed and the town emptying out completely by 9p.m., there was nothing left to do but go to sleep, which we gladly did.
We were awoken at 3a.m. by tapping on the window. And by tapping I mean something along the lines of a jackhammer breaking into the roof. My friend sat up in horror and asked what the heck I think it is. “Seagulls.” I don’t even know how I knew that while being half asleep and half panicked from the noise myself. The tapping continued throughout the night, accompanied by rain, hail, and the roaring of the ocean. The morning revealed a beautiful painting of seagulls hanging above the bed that neither of us paid much attention to the night before. Either the irony of life was incredible or someone decorating that place had a very good sense of humor.
You’d hope that my story ends by saying that the next day was beautiful and we got to see the sun and the scenic views after all. Prepare to be disappointed! No such thing happened. In fact, at one point we passed what seemed like it should’ve been an incredible viewpoint. There were three large entrances, and it was located on a cliff. “I guess this is supposed to be beautiful,” my friend mumbled. The road was covered in fog from top to bottom. We couldn’t even see the water, much less separate it from the sky! We drove down for another hour and a half, visited another rainy, windy lighthouse, and went home. I highly recommend that everyone visit the Oregon Coast at least once in their lifetime! The scenery is beautiful and the sunsets are unmatched. Just don’t do it in March :)
The "Beautiful Sunset"
"Scenic Views"
Monday, April 12, 2010
Books To Read While You Wait For Me To Write A Novel
I have read plenty of horrible books in the past. But my latest discovery (apparently now a major motion picture) has left me seriously wondering: can I write a better novel?
The plotline of the story is technically good. But the language…. Whether it’s because the author is Irish and the dialect is dissimilar to what we are used to in the United States, or because the writing is truly horrible, but I just can’t get through more than a page without thinking how “corny” a phrase or a scenario is. Why am I still reading the book? Because the plotline is technically good! Which is exactly my problem: if I decided to write a novel, what would it be about?
Granted, my own life provides ample material for a multivolume work. But somehow, I am highly reluctant to offer certain carefully-unpublicized details of it up for the general publics’ leisurely perusal on its daily commute. (Something tells me though that those details would be exactly what brings high-profit royalties to amateur authors).
Whilst I ponder the possibility of truly putting down a pen to paper and whipping out a masterpiece of never-before-seen calibers though, here is a list of ten books that I think are worth your time which are already published and available for your perusal on a daily commute:
1. War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. It sounds like a fat uninteresting book. In reality it’s a very easy light read. Although yes, quite chubby for a book.
2. Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. The movie is also good.
3. The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoyevsky. Cliché, but seriously… the depth of his though and psychological analysis is mind-blowing. If you can, read it in Russian. So much gets lost in translation…
4. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas. It’s an adventure story. Will keep you hooked for hours! (Also best to read in French though.)
5. Voices from Chechnya by Politkovskaya. She was killed for reporting the truth. Not for emotionally feeble. You might find yourself coming back to it again and again.
6. The Alchemist by Pablo Coelho. You can finish it in an hour (unless you’re trying to read it in Spanish with no previous experience in the language…) and gain profound wisdom from it. Although I’d advise to be well-established in what you believe before you take on the magic volume. Some wisdom should always be taken with a grain of salt…
7. One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. This book definitely leaves a lasting impression.
8. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down. This book will drive the clash between traditional and western medicine home. You will cry.
9. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. I don’t know why I liked this book. It was weird. But I just did. Maybe because I didn’t HAVE TO read it.
10. The Bible in a language you understand but have never read in before. It makes the familiar passages stand out in an entirely different light.
Happy Reading and look out for that novel of mine!
Friday, January 22, 2010
Why Am I Always Happy?
The short answer to that is because I am a Christian who has a real relationship with Jesus and my identity is in Him. But life would be boring if it consisted only of short answers to questions like this. So I'm going to go ahead and get into the analytical depths of this topic.
The truth is that sometimes people who have a real relationship with Jesus aren't always happy. And I most certainly didn't get there until after a bunch of life lessons, realizations, and epiphanies. But it makes me very happy that people tell me that what they like about me is that I'm always happy and smiling. It also makes me happy that my happiness is for real -- I don't do it just to put up a front.
There are several reasons for it. First of all, my life is richly blessed and I really think it'd take an extremely stupid individual not to be happy in my circumstances. I have two mega nice jobs in this economy, and even though I hate one of them, I will admit that it's a pretty good deal that some others only dream of. I have a lot of people who are ready to be there for me if I need them, and who truly care. The people I love all love me back and want me in their lives. My family is incredible. I have an apartment with a mind blowing view that I can easily afford. I'm healthy to the bone. I have endless opportunities to pursue my hobbies and aspirations. I say that's enough for happiness already, yet I see people out there who have it all, and more, and still can't find the happiness within them. Therefore, it's obvious that it's an emotion rooted on the inside of us and does not depend on the circumstances around, even though we might think it does.
What aided my happiness was a piece of advise someone somewhat wise once gave me: don't expect anything from anyone. Brilliant! I've stuck with it for years now, and it has worked incredibly well. Not only does it eliminate dependence on others to make you feel a certain way, but it also makes those around you happier because there's no pressure on them to make you feel good. Instead, you can cheer them up just by being cheerful! It also makes the moments when people come through for you extra special. Since you don't expect anything from them, it's a nice surprise when they do something good, and it makes you happier than you would've been if they simply met your expectations.
The final reason for my happiness most certainly drives some people insane because they feel like they don't ever have all of me. But oh well. My parents taught me to give my all, but never feel like I own something or someone. This way if I am forced to let go, I am not too attached for that to make my world crash. Of course, this has been difficult in the past, especially with people. There were a few on whom I depended entirely, whose actions and words set my mood, and who destroyed me when they left. But I learned my lesson. I now love without expecting anything in return, and if people don't want me in their lives, I won't force myself on them. My life is not identified by anyone or anything in it. Learning that was a breakthrough for happiness.
And last, but not least, is the aforementioned fact that I have a relationship with Jesus. However, having a relationship and rooting an identity are two entirely different things. My God is the only one who loves me unconditionally and on whom I can depend to take care of me in all aspects -- emotional, physical, and spiritual. He is the only one who never changes and who has and will always be there. There is no risk of Him leaving, and whatever He does in my life, although sometimes painful, I can be assured is for the best. He has given me all the tools for happiness. I just had to learn how to use them.
The truth is that sometimes people who have a real relationship with Jesus aren't always happy. And I most certainly didn't get there until after a bunch of life lessons, realizations, and epiphanies. But it makes me very happy that people tell me that what they like about me is that I'm always happy and smiling. It also makes me happy that my happiness is for real -- I don't do it just to put up a front.
There are several reasons for it. First of all, my life is richly blessed and I really think it'd take an extremely stupid individual not to be happy in my circumstances. I have two mega nice jobs in this economy, and even though I hate one of them, I will admit that it's a pretty good deal that some others only dream of. I have a lot of people who are ready to be there for me if I need them, and who truly care. The people I love all love me back and want me in their lives. My family is incredible. I have an apartment with a mind blowing view that I can easily afford. I'm healthy to the bone. I have endless opportunities to pursue my hobbies and aspirations. I say that's enough for happiness already, yet I see people out there who have it all, and more, and still can't find the happiness within them. Therefore, it's obvious that it's an emotion rooted on the inside of us and does not depend on the circumstances around, even though we might think it does.
What aided my happiness was a piece of advise someone somewhat wise once gave me: don't expect anything from anyone. Brilliant! I've stuck with it for years now, and it has worked incredibly well. Not only does it eliminate dependence on others to make you feel a certain way, but it also makes those around you happier because there's no pressure on them to make you feel good. Instead, you can cheer them up just by being cheerful! It also makes the moments when people come through for you extra special. Since you don't expect anything from them, it's a nice surprise when they do something good, and it makes you happier than you would've been if they simply met your expectations.
The final reason for my happiness most certainly drives some people insane because they feel like they don't ever have all of me. But oh well. My parents taught me to give my all, but never feel like I own something or someone. This way if I am forced to let go, I am not too attached for that to make my world crash. Of course, this has been difficult in the past, especially with people. There were a few on whom I depended entirely, whose actions and words set my mood, and who destroyed me when they left. But I learned my lesson. I now love without expecting anything in return, and if people don't want me in their lives, I won't force myself on them. My life is not identified by anyone or anything in it. Learning that was a breakthrough for happiness.
And last, but not least, is the aforementioned fact that I have a relationship with Jesus. However, having a relationship and rooting an identity are two entirely different things. My God is the only one who loves me unconditionally and on whom I can depend to take care of me in all aspects -- emotional, physical, and spiritual. He is the only one who never changes and who has and will always be there. There is no risk of Him leaving, and whatever He does in my life, although sometimes painful, I can be assured is for the best. He has given me all the tools for happiness. I just had to learn how to use them.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Abandoned Blog
It's really sad to go through blogs on blogspot and bump into "ghost blogs" -- the ones that were active for a long time, but haven't been updated for years. As sad as it is, mine has lately turned into one of those. And although it hasn't been years, I have most certainly not been as diligent about writing as I should be. But perhaps there are reasons for it. I somewhat keep a journal. Or rather, I've somewhat kept a journal for years. Somewhat, because I notice that I only write in it when nothing really exciting is going on in my life. Once REALLY, TRULY exciting things start happening there is simply no time for writing. It's been the same with the blogs.
When I first moved to Seattle I had all the time in the world to write/explore/think/analyze/notice. But lately my life has filled up with people and events that are Novel material. Not blog. The things that fill my life are so interesting, intimate, and intense that I simply can't open them up for the world to see. Hence the silence, while I deal with unpredictable turns of events and difficult decisions.
I've had people comment to me and say that my life sounds like a life of a celebrity. All I can say is -- you have no idea! Life is such an interesting thing, and it throws us curve balls that make us learn, reconsider, re identify and rethink. It makes us realize that what we once considered solid truth might not be applicable in all situations. That what we've been attached to and afraid to let go of has only been holding us back from things infinitely more worthy and exciting. That what we were afraid of finding ironically can quickly turn into something we are afraid to lose...
I'll try to be more diligent about sharing thoughts and experiences, especially on Seattle. I'll try to stop being philosophical and get back to the humorous side of life. But as always, i don't promise anything... I just hope that it works out, do my best, and hope for the best!
When I first moved to Seattle I had all the time in the world to write/explore/think/analyze/notice. But lately my life has filled up with people and events that are Novel material. Not blog. The things that fill my life are so interesting, intimate, and intense that I simply can't open them up for the world to see. Hence the silence, while I deal with unpredictable turns of events and difficult decisions.
I've had people comment to me and say that my life sounds like a life of a celebrity. All I can say is -- you have no idea! Life is such an interesting thing, and it throws us curve balls that make us learn, reconsider, re identify and rethink. It makes us realize that what we once considered solid truth might not be applicable in all situations. That what we've been attached to and afraid to let go of has only been holding us back from things infinitely more worthy and exciting. That what we were afraid of finding ironically can quickly turn into something we are afraid to lose...
I'll try to be more diligent about sharing thoughts and experiences, especially on Seattle. I'll try to stop being philosophical and get back to the humorous side of life. But as always, i don't promise anything... I just hope that it works out, do my best, and hope for the best!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
My Christmas Wish List
Not to be selfish or anything.... But this is MY blog. lol And I've already been asked by a couple of people to hand over the Christmas With List. So I figured to make it easier for everyone I'll just post it up here. Who knows, maybe some random do-gooder will want to get me something just for the heck of it. This post is mostly intended for close friends and entertainment purposes and you are under no obligation to obtain all or any of the items on the list and gift them to me.
My list, as always, is as absurd and all over the place as can be. I'll add to it as I think of more stuff that I want. So if you are, in fact, one of the people who are looking at it for the purpose of getting me a present, please make sure to check back once in a while :) And please feel free to post YOUR Christmas wish list in the comments section for my benefit.
1. The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo in French. (They're called "Les Trois Musketeers' and "Le Comte de Monte Cristo'). The point is in French. I do already own both novels in English and in Russian...
2. Gift Cards (ALWAYS a good choice!) Right now especially to Ross, TJ Maxx, and the Container Store, as I'm still in the process of cozying up my apartment and am not yet in the stage of my career where I'll be spending money on stuff I can buy cheaper elsewhere. Nordstrom gift cards, however, are also very much appreciated, as no matter in what stage my finances are, I seem to always end up pouring a good chunk of them into their business. A gift Card to Century Ballroom (http://www.centuryballroom.com/) would be extremely useful as well. (I take classes there). Sephora is a favorite too. Make up seems to end at the most unexpected moments in life.
3. This is random and I don't know why the heck I've been wanting it so much... but: "I am not a Paper Cup." http://www.dcigift.com/product.cfm?productID=763&catID=14 They have them at the Seattle Art Museum gift shop, as well as at the Acquarium.
4. Perfume (Ralph Lauren "Romance.") I'm almost out.
5. A foot pedal and charger for my keyboard... http://www.keyboardstoday.com/Merchant2/merchant.mv?Screen=PROD&Product_Code=ac5_deluxesustain&Category_Code=PD&Store_Code=CK
6. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." by Anne Bronte.
7. A nice straightener... Fried mine in Latvia :(
8. Lip Gloss http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P204721&categoryId=S10605&shouldPaginate=true I want the one in Acai Boost.
9. EyeLiner in Black http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P35082&categoryId=S10505&shouldPaginate=true
10. This is wishful thinking, of course... but hey... it's a WISH list, right? But ultimately this eyeliner set.... Oh the things I could do with it.... http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P246905&categoryId=S10505&shouldPaginate=true
11. Eyeshadow. Lancome in "Color du Jour." http://www.lancome-usa.com/makeup/color-design-eyeshadow.htm#anchor001
12. Movies w/Jennifer Aniston. "The Break-Up." "Marley & Me." "Love Happens."
13. Classic films: "Sabrina." (With Audrey Hepburn...) "Breakfast at Tiffany's." "Paris -- When it Sizzles." "The Greatest Show on Earth."
14. Ok can't think of anything else specific.... but anything cool looking for home or office will work.
My list, as always, is as absurd and all over the place as can be. I'll add to it as I think of more stuff that I want. So if you are, in fact, one of the people who are looking at it for the purpose of getting me a present, please make sure to check back once in a while :) And please feel free to post YOUR Christmas wish list in the comments section for my benefit.
1. The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo in French. (They're called "Les Trois Musketeers' and "Le Comte de Monte Cristo'). The point is in French. I do already own both novels in English and in Russian...
2. Gift Cards (ALWAYS a good choice!) Right now especially to Ross, TJ Maxx, and the Container Store, as I'm still in the process of cozying up my apartment and am not yet in the stage of my career where I'll be spending money on stuff I can buy cheaper elsewhere. Nordstrom gift cards, however, are also very much appreciated, as no matter in what stage my finances are, I seem to always end up pouring a good chunk of them into their business. A gift Card to Century Ballroom (http://www.centuryballroom.com/) would be extremely useful as well. (I take classes there). Sephora is a favorite too. Make up seems to end at the most unexpected moments in life.
3. This is random and I don't know why the heck I've been wanting it so much... but: "I am not a Paper Cup." http://www.dcigift.com/product.cfm?productID=763&catID=14 They have them at the Seattle Art Museum gift shop, as well as at the Acquarium.
4. Perfume (Ralph Lauren "Romance.") I'm almost out.
5. A foot pedal and charger for my keyboard... http://www.keyboardstoday.com/Merchant2/merchant.mv?Screen=PROD&Product_Code=ac5_deluxesustain&Category_Code=PD&Store_Code=CK
6. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." by Anne Bronte.
7. A nice straightener... Fried mine in Latvia :(
8. Lip Gloss http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P204721&categoryId=S10605&shouldPaginate=true I want the one in Acai Boost.
9. EyeLiner in Black http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P35082&categoryId=S10505&shouldPaginate=true
10. This is wishful thinking, of course... but hey... it's a WISH list, right? But ultimately this eyeliner set.... Oh the things I could do with it.... http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P246905&categoryId=S10505&shouldPaginate=true
11. Eyeshadow. Lancome in "Color du Jour." http://www.lancome-usa.com/makeup/color-design-eyeshadow.htm#anchor001
12. Movies w/Jennifer Aniston. "The Break-Up." "Marley & Me." "Love Happens."
13. Classic films: "Sabrina." (With Audrey Hepburn...) "Breakfast at Tiffany's." "Paris -- When it Sizzles." "The Greatest Show on Earth."
14. Ok can't think of anything else specific.... but anything cool looking for home or office will work.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
The Power of a Best Friend
I'm psyched because I just got my ticket to PA to visit my best friend. Which made me realize that she, more than anyone else, deserves a separate post simply because she is AWESOME. And also because for some reason some people in my life are not aware of her existence. Maybe it's because she's far away. But that definitely doesn't make her less valuable to me!
We met while working at a Christian kid's camp and had that instant connection that can't really be defined, but is vital for any friendship to work. It's the kind when you just trust the person right away and find that you can talk to them forever about anything and everything. A bunch of visits to each other's houses later -- we lived a couple hours apart -- our friendship was sealed. The "best" part of friends just kind of naturally emerged a little later. Perhaps it was because of the colorful memories and situations we were thrown into together. Like a historic snow storm that suddenly fell on Massachusetts the weekend I went to visit her, in which we went driving around an empty town until finally finding one open coffee shop where we sipped on earl grey tea and talked for hours. Or her meeting her now husband at a conference where we went together. Or us shopping for engagement rings, just for fun, and her being proposed to only a few days later, getting that exact ring that we've picked out, and asking me to be her maid of honor...
All of these memories though can't even compare with how much she's been there for me. From sound advice when I was about to settle for less in relationships, to random gifts and hilarious cards I'd receive in the mail JUST at the moment I'd need them most. The last time I went to visit her -- after two years of not seeing each other -- was probably the biggest blessing that deserves a separate mention. She didn't know it at the time, but that was the beginning of a long healing process from a bunch of destructive relationships that I was in.
Fully immersed in the drama of people who should never be allowed to be as close, I was codependent on a few of them, and utterly lost. My identity was in the wrong place. My heart was in the wrong place. Myself was nonexistent -- I forgot who I am and what I'm like. I lived through others and didn't care for relationships in my own life. Visiting her brought me back down to earth. I remembered why I value what I value. Why I think like I think. Why I believe what I believe. And why I act how I act. And I won't even mention how much love I received from her family through material things (such as covering 100% of my expenses while I was there, putting me in their brand new master bedroom with a jacuzzi, and hand-holding me through my very first time snowboarding). I've never had anyone genuinely take such good care of me before (or since).
Some people in our life just want to much off of what we have. Others become idols that feed off of our insecurities. But I've been blessed with a best friend who is truly THE BEST. And I'm super happy that I get to be a significant part of her life forever and that she's such a big part of mine. And that I'm finally going to visit her again so soon! I love you Jenny :)
We met while working at a Christian kid's camp and had that instant connection that can't really be defined, but is vital for any friendship to work. It's the kind when you just trust the person right away and find that you can talk to them forever about anything and everything. A bunch of visits to each other's houses later -- we lived a couple hours apart -- our friendship was sealed. The "best" part of friends just kind of naturally emerged a little later. Perhaps it was because of the colorful memories and situations we were thrown into together. Like a historic snow storm that suddenly fell on Massachusetts the weekend I went to visit her, in which we went driving around an empty town until finally finding one open coffee shop where we sipped on earl grey tea and talked for hours. Or her meeting her now husband at a conference where we went together. Or us shopping for engagement rings, just for fun, and her being proposed to only a few days later, getting that exact ring that we've picked out, and asking me to be her maid of honor...
All of these memories though can't even compare with how much she's been there for me. From sound advice when I was about to settle for less in relationships, to random gifts and hilarious cards I'd receive in the mail JUST at the moment I'd need them most. The last time I went to visit her -- after two years of not seeing each other -- was probably the biggest blessing that deserves a separate mention. She didn't know it at the time, but that was the beginning of a long healing process from a bunch of destructive relationships that I was in.
Fully immersed in the drama of people who should never be allowed to be as close, I was codependent on a few of them, and utterly lost. My identity was in the wrong place. My heart was in the wrong place. Myself was nonexistent -- I forgot who I am and what I'm like. I lived through others and didn't care for relationships in my own life. Visiting her brought me back down to earth. I remembered why I value what I value. Why I think like I think. Why I believe what I believe. And why I act how I act. And I won't even mention how much love I received from her family through material things (such as covering 100% of my expenses while I was there, putting me in their brand new master bedroom with a jacuzzi, and hand-holding me through my very first time snowboarding). I've never had anyone genuinely take such good care of me before (or since).
Some people in our life just want to much off of what we have. Others become idols that feed off of our insecurities. But I've been blessed with a best friend who is truly THE BEST. And I'm super happy that I get to be a significant part of her life forever and that she's such a big part of mine. And that I'm finally going to visit her again so soon! I love you Jenny :)
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A Writer Reads
My prolonged silence on this beautiful outlet of expression can be once again explained by a desire to catch up at work. But realizing that this will never happen in a million years (for the most of which, unfortunately, I wouldn't be here to live...), I have decided to finally come back. It's no matter though. Since I specifically never promised to write any number of times a day/week/month, I'm free to have absolutely no guilt about not doing it for such a long time. So I'm not sorry that I haven't been writing, and I don't apologize. :)
In the past couple weeks I have made a capital improvement on the affairs of my mind. I've determined to spend the time at work... working, to spend the time at night sleeping, and to spend the idle minutes on the bus reading for pleasure (the horror!). So, equipped with a library card, I ventured out for a walk around Fremont one rainy afternoon (the first and the last of many planned walks, as darkness literally unexpectedly fell upon me due to time changing, thus nipping in the bud any good intentions I had for exploration of the city or for exercise.) The final destination was Fremont Public Library -- a Mediterranean style, artsy casa, that miraculously held the book I researched and wanted to read next.
The book is written by Anne Bronte -- the youngest of the Bronte sisters (Charlotte Bronte -- "Jane Eyre" and Emily Bronte -- "Wuthering Heights,") slightly overshadowed by the other two's successful works. But authors like her are exactly my specialty: not as famous siblings, not as popular works, and not as explored countries are all the types of literature that totally enthralls me! Most of the "weird" works I've read ended up being just that: weird. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall," however, was impressive, and so much more. The fact that it's not as highly acclaimed as the works of Charlotte and Emily Bronte leaves the world completely missing out on the talent of the author and the brutal reality of her time period.
Highly controversial in its time, the novel is about a woman who chooses to flee her alcoholic and emotionally abusive husband and support herself and her child by selling art. The rumors of the town in which she settles, however, quickly find their way into her lonesome abode, as she becomes the center of speculation and gossip of nosy neighbors. Perhaps the most controversial part of the novel is the fact that its main character, Helen, THINKS independently of any male who tries to dominate her life -- be in uncle, husband, friend or pastor. For most of the novel, her body is subdued in obedience and humility. But it's her spirit that can't be broken by anything that comes her way. Anne Bronte's style is amazingly ahead of its' time as well. And such expressions as "she was seriously annoyed" are almost amusing to find in the book, considering it was written some 150 years ago.
Helen's character is definitely easy to relate to, especially in her thoughts on faith and legalism. She is a model of strength and independence, both of existence and of thought. And unlike Scarlett O'Hara in "Gone With The Wind," Helen keeps her values and principles intact while fighting for that independence. Instead of going on and on about the virtues of the author and of her character, I'll just list the quotes that I liked most from the book. They're applicable. That's the best part.
"...and if he had kept his distance I never would have hated him. As it was, it was almost impossible to help it; for he not only bothered me with the infliction of his own presence, but he kept me from the enjoyment of more agreeable society."
"Is it that they think it a duty to be continually talking, and so never pause to think, but fill up with aimless trifle and vain repetitions when subjects of real interest fail to present themselves? or do they really take a pleasure in such discourse?"
"I am so determined to love him -- so intensely anxious to excuse his errors, that I am continually dwelling upon them, and labouring to extenuate the loosest of his principles, and the worst of his practices, till I am familiarized with vice, and almost a partaker in his sins. Things that formerly shocked and disgusted me, now seem only natural. I know them to be wrong, because reason and God's Word declare them to be so; but I am gradually losing that instinctive horror and repulsion which were given me by nature, or instilled into me by precepts... "
"I was infatuated once with a foolish, besotted affection, that clung to him in spite of his unworthiness, but it is fairly gone now -- wholly crushed and withered away; and he has none but himself and his vices to thank for it."
All quotes from Bronte, Anne. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." The Modern Library: New York. Random House, Inc., 1997.
In the past couple weeks I have made a capital improvement on the affairs of my mind. I've determined to spend the time at work... working, to spend the time at night sleeping, and to spend the idle minutes on the bus reading for pleasure (the horror!). So, equipped with a library card, I ventured out for a walk around Fremont one rainy afternoon (the first and the last of many planned walks, as darkness literally unexpectedly fell upon me due to time changing, thus nipping in the bud any good intentions I had for exploration of the city or for exercise.) The final destination was Fremont Public Library -- a Mediterranean style, artsy casa, that miraculously held the book I researched and wanted to read next.
The book is written by Anne Bronte -- the youngest of the Bronte sisters (Charlotte Bronte -- "Jane Eyre" and Emily Bronte -- "Wuthering Heights,") slightly overshadowed by the other two's successful works. But authors like her are exactly my specialty: not as famous siblings, not as popular works, and not as explored countries are all the types of literature that totally enthralls me! Most of the "weird" works I've read ended up being just that: weird. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall," however, was impressive, and so much more. The fact that it's not as highly acclaimed as the works of Charlotte and Emily Bronte leaves the world completely missing out on the talent of the author and the brutal reality of her time period.
Highly controversial in its time, the novel is about a woman who chooses to flee her alcoholic and emotionally abusive husband and support herself and her child by selling art. The rumors of the town in which she settles, however, quickly find their way into her lonesome abode, as she becomes the center of speculation and gossip of nosy neighbors. Perhaps the most controversial part of the novel is the fact that its main character, Helen, THINKS independently of any male who tries to dominate her life -- be in uncle, husband, friend or pastor. For most of the novel, her body is subdued in obedience and humility. But it's her spirit that can't be broken by anything that comes her way. Anne Bronte's style is amazingly ahead of its' time as well. And such expressions as "she was seriously annoyed" are almost amusing to find in the book, considering it was written some 150 years ago.
Helen's character is definitely easy to relate to, especially in her thoughts on faith and legalism. She is a model of strength and independence, both of existence and of thought. And unlike Scarlett O'Hara in "Gone With The Wind," Helen keeps her values and principles intact while fighting for that independence. Instead of going on and on about the virtues of the author and of her character, I'll just list the quotes that I liked most from the book. They're applicable. That's the best part.
"...and if he had kept his distance I never would have hated him. As it was, it was almost impossible to help it; for he not only bothered me with the infliction of his own presence, but he kept me from the enjoyment of more agreeable society."
"Is it that they think it a duty to be continually talking, and so never pause to think, but fill up with aimless trifle and vain repetitions when subjects of real interest fail to present themselves? or do they really take a pleasure in such discourse?"
"I am so determined to love him -- so intensely anxious to excuse his errors, that I am continually dwelling upon them, and labouring to extenuate the loosest of his principles, and the worst of his practices, till I am familiarized with vice, and almost a partaker in his sins. Things that formerly shocked and disgusted me, now seem only natural. I know them to be wrong, because reason and God's Word declare them to be so; but I am gradually losing that instinctive horror and repulsion which were given me by nature, or instilled into me by precepts... "
"I was infatuated once with a foolish, besotted affection, that clung to him in spite of his unworthiness, but it is fairly gone now -- wholly crushed and withered away; and he has none but himself and his vices to thank for it."
All quotes from Bronte, Anne. "The Tenant of Wildfell Hall." The Modern Library: New York. Random House, Inc., 1997.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Vote on or before November 3rd!!!
Please navigate to my other blog to read what I have to say today. http://blogaboutfaith.blogspot.com/2009/10/r-71-you-signed-for-it-to-go-on-ballot.html
Thank you.
Thank you.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Off The Beaten Path
In my attempt to re-discover Seattle, I googled a bunch of places that are "off the beaten path" around town. Ironically, half of the ones that I already discovered were mentioned absolutely nowhere, making me feel extra special for knowing about them. But some others looked quite enticing, so I drew up a mental map of all the spots I'll visit and explore after work. Instead, I stayed home and watched a movie. I could assign that to general laziness or being tired. But I think the secret lies in the fact that my place is exactly like one of those little-known spots around town that you just hang on to and keep visiting because they are so gorgeous.
In my city explorations I mostly seek out places with views and beautiful sunsets. Or the ones that bring out the calm and serenity in me. My apartment does both -- only in addition to everything else it's heated. The view from my windows hardly could be beat by any other place. Sitting on top of a hill and facing west, the sunsets that the house shows are astounding. And the setting around my street in the fall is nothing less than fairy-tale like. In addition, my place offers a cozy blanket, warm tea and great food. No wonder I don't want to go exploring after coming home after work!
The kinds of places I love:
The way from the bus to my house:
The sunset out of my window:
What's not to love?! :) :)
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Moburg
In the two months of living in Seattle, I have successfully managed to get stuck in the rut of routine. Instead of using the time to explore the city, as I surely thought I would after moving here, I find myself going to work, coming home, and going out to the same places over and over again on a daily basis. I've stopped taking walks around downtown at lunch. I've stopped noticing coffee shops, to the point that when a friend from Canada came to visit I ended up taking him to... Starbucks. Nothing less than embarrassing for a Seattleite. I've stopped walking into random antique shops and boutiques in search of original treasures. I've stopped being fascinated.
But coffee with a friend last night rekindled my interest. We met up at Grand Central Arcade - a historic building that originally hosted Watson C. Squire's Opera house -- Seattle's first formal theater. It is now the home of a number of eccentric shops, as well as the famous Grand Central Bakery with its out-of-this world butter croissants. The Arcade is a bubble of the past where a movie-like setting of red brick walls and wooden railings meets modern day technology in the form of laptops and i-phones plopped up on the tables of mid-day snacking freelancers, researchers and interviewers.
But the most fascinating item living in the romantic lobby is actually a painting. With all creative interests filling up my life, I somehow never developed any interest in art. I've had the privilege of visiting many famous Russian museums, hosting myriads of incredible art galleries. But the sections I usually skipped to were royal fashion expositions and decorated rooms. No art gallery or single painting could ever hold my attention for longer than a few seconds, and none of them have really stood out to me enough to stick with my mind for a long time.
This said, I did have two random love affairs with artistic creations. One of them was a wooden sculpture of an ostridge with its head hiding underneath whatever surface was hosting it. When I was about 11, it was for sale at a small shop in old Riga -- my hometown -- and I went to "visit" the ostridge at least once a week until it was sold, much to my disappointment. My second love affair came my freshmen year in high school, when as part of a writing class we had to complete an assignment on abstract art. It turned out to be my most successful assignment, as the painting that I got to write about was Kandinsky's "Yellow-Red-Blue." The vibrancy of the colors, as well as the "lion head" so clearly sticking out to me from the picture, made my imagination run wild. Since then nothing has really stuck with me. Until last night when I saw THE painting hanging on one of the walls of Grand Central Arcade.
The painting depicts a foggy, dimly lit Pioneer Square station. It's empty, except for two dancers. A woman and... a rat. The rat is wearing a suit and evokes feelings of pity for having to hide in the night rather than disgust or mistrust. I couldn't stop staring at the piece in fascination, actually interrupting my friend's conversation to point it out once I noticed it. The painting stirred up real, genuine, emotion. We sat in front of it and talked about all the possible scenarios depicted for a good ten minutes. Only about three minutes into the conversation I noticed that the woman on the painting actually has rooster legs. I came up closer to the item that captured my attention after so many years of disinterest in anything paint-related. The inscription in the bottom right corner read "Moburg."
Needless to say that the next morning the Sherlock inside got the best of me, and Grand Central and Moburg were googled in all possible combinations. There wasn't much info on the latter. What I've managed to find out is only that the artists name is Bruce Moburg, and that he was a Seattle based artist who won some 1999 pi contest for postcard prints. From the looks of it, Mr. Moburg passed away on November 22, 2007, but his art can still be found "around the city." My curiosity is at it's peak as I can't wait to explore the town more in depth in search of more of his creations. I'd also love to know who is in charge of decorating Grand Central, and how they got a hold of the mouseman and one other Moburg painting.
I can imagine starting up an expensive, eccentric, and random collection. I will search for Moburgs and try to buy them off from current owners. People who come visit will be fascinated by the mouseman -- the one that started it all -- and wonder who Moburg is. It will be something my own, something unique, something Seattle-only... just like the Arcade and the painting currently hanging on its wall. But I'm thinking that will only happen once I am rich, and own a living room as big as the Grand Central Arcade patio which currently hosts the dancers in the fog... For now, I'm just happy that something managed to renew my fascination and curiosity for the city.
But coffee with a friend last night rekindled my interest. We met up at Grand Central Arcade - a historic building that originally hosted Watson C. Squire's Opera house -- Seattle's first formal theater. It is now the home of a number of eccentric shops, as well as the famous Grand Central Bakery with its out-of-this world butter croissants. The Arcade is a bubble of the past where a movie-like setting of red brick walls and wooden railings meets modern day technology in the form of laptops and i-phones plopped up on the tables of mid-day snacking freelancers, researchers and interviewers.
But the most fascinating item living in the romantic lobby is actually a painting. With all creative interests filling up my life, I somehow never developed any interest in art. I've had the privilege of visiting many famous Russian museums, hosting myriads of incredible art galleries. But the sections I usually skipped to were royal fashion expositions and decorated rooms. No art gallery or single painting could ever hold my attention for longer than a few seconds, and none of them have really stood out to me enough to stick with my mind for a long time.
This said, I did have two random love affairs with artistic creations. One of them was a wooden sculpture of an ostridge with its head hiding underneath whatever surface was hosting it. When I was about 11, it was for sale at a small shop in old Riga -- my hometown -- and I went to "visit" the ostridge at least once a week until it was sold, much to my disappointment. My second love affair came my freshmen year in high school, when as part of a writing class we had to complete an assignment on abstract art. It turned out to be my most successful assignment, as the painting that I got to write about was Kandinsky's "Yellow-Red-Blue." The vibrancy of the colors, as well as the "lion head" so clearly sticking out to me from the picture, made my imagination run wild. Since then nothing has really stuck with me. Until last night when I saw THE painting hanging on one of the walls of Grand Central Arcade.
The painting depicts a foggy, dimly lit Pioneer Square station. It's empty, except for two dancers. A woman and... a rat. The rat is wearing a suit and evokes feelings of pity for having to hide in the night rather than disgust or mistrust. I couldn't stop staring at the piece in fascination, actually interrupting my friend's conversation to point it out once I noticed it. The painting stirred up real, genuine, emotion. We sat in front of it and talked about all the possible scenarios depicted for a good ten minutes. Only about three minutes into the conversation I noticed that the woman on the painting actually has rooster legs. I came up closer to the item that captured my attention after so many years of disinterest in anything paint-related. The inscription in the bottom right corner read "Moburg."
Needless to say that the next morning the Sherlock inside got the best of me, and Grand Central and Moburg were googled in all possible combinations. There wasn't much info on the latter. What I've managed to find out is only that the artists name is Bruce Moburg, and that he was a Seattle based artist who won some 1999 pi contest for postcard prints. From the looks of it, Mr. Moburg passed away on November 22, 2007, but his art can still be found "around the city." My curiosity is at it's peak as I can't wait to explore the town more in depth in search of more of his creations. I'd also love to know who is in charge of decorating Grand Central, and how they got a hold of the mouseman and one other Moburg painting.
I can imagine starting up an expensive, eccentric, and random collection. I will search for Moburgs and try to buy them off from current owners. People who come visit will be fascinated by the mouseman -- the one that started it all -- and wonder who Moburg is. It will be something my own, something unique, something Seattle-only... just like the Arcade and the painting currently hanging on its wall. But I'm thinking that will only happen once I am rich, and own a living room as big as the Grand Central Arcade patio which currently hosts the dancers in the fog... For now, I'm just happy that something managed to renew my fascination and curiosity for the city.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Bus Gossip 2
It's like the 'loudspeakers' on the bus heard me and decided to give me a present: more hilarious things to tell the world! Yesterday's conversation was over the phone, so naturally I only picked up half of it. But from what I heard I think I can extract a pretty accurate storyline. After all, what hasn't been deduced by my impeccable perception skills can be easily substituted by my imagination. The story "relayed" to me was by a younger woman, apparently on the phone with her friend. Here's enough to know about her to completely scare the crap out of the girl if you should ever meet:
Apparently she is either a very close friend of, or dating, a man who has a small child with another woman. Last week it was his birthday, for which his parents threw him a party. He asked the girl later why she didn't come, and she had to endure the awkwardness of the moment in which she told him it was because the parents haven't invited her. Apparently, the guy has shared custody of the kid and either lives at home or just drops him or her off at his parents a lot, because to answer the question whether the grandparents mind, she said that they don't because at least this way they can ensure that their grandchild is fed and has everything.
An unusual answer, but apparently the mother is slightly crazy. To save money, she disconnected electricity, which is what heats up the water in the house. In order to bathe, she boils water in pots on a stove. For lighting, she uses candles. The girl was dismayed about a lifestyle like this with two elementary school age kids in the house. (She should try living in Russia... Nothing unusual about that there!) From this I deduced that the mother also has a child with someone else.... oh the drama of life! Why the girl would want to get involved in a situation like this remained a mystery to all on the bus... Juicy as the story was, the second one she blabbed was just as good!
The girl told her friend that she doesn't work "there" anymore and has a new job now. Apparently, there was something fishy going on at "the French place." The owner was also the manager because nobody else stepped up to the position. This was annoying, because she let people go for no apparent reason. After about a month of working at the place and being very helpful, the girl got called into the owners' office and told that "it's not working out." She was given reasons that in her mind were simply irrelevant. The reasons were that her coffee service is too slow and that she stands around too much. (Is it just me, or does this sound like a pretty relevant reason?!) She was offered the option of staying on call. But apparently has found other employment. She also suspected that half of the employees at the place worked under the table, since the owner never asked her to fill out any W-2's or anything. (I think she meant W-4's though....)
I think that it's time for me to make business cards that say "read about this conversation tomorrow at this link," and pass them out on the bus. I'm sure people would get a kick out of it.
Apparently she is either a very close friend of, or dating, a man who has a small child with another woman. Last week it was his birthday, for which his parents threw him a party. He asked the girl later why she didn't come, and she had to endure the awkwardness of the moment in which she told him it was because the parents haven't invited her. Apparently, the guy has shared custody of the kid and either lives at home or just drops him or her off at his parents a lot, because to answer the question whether the grandparents mind, she said that they don't because at least this way they can ensure that their grandchild is fed and has everything.
An unusual answer, but apparently the mother is slightly crazy. To save money, she disconnected electricity, which is what heats up the water in the house. In order to bathe, she boils water in pots on a stove. For lighting, she uses candles. The girl was dismayed about a lifestyle like this with two elementary school age kids in the house. (She should try living in Russia... Nothing unusual about that there!) From this I deduced that the mother also has a child with someone else.... oh the drama of life! Why the girl would want to get involved in a situation like this remained a mystery to all on the bus... Juicy as the story was, the second one she blabbed was just as good!
The girl told her friend that she doesn't work "there" anymore and has a new job now. Apparently, there was something fishy going on at "the French place." The owner was also the manager because nobody else stepped up to the position. This was annoying, because she let people go for no apparent reason. After about a month of working at the place and being very helpful, the girl got called into the owners' office and told that "it's not working out." She was given reasons that in her mind were simply irrelevant. The reasons were that her coffee service is too slow and that she stands around too much. (Is it just me, or does this sound like a pretty relevant reason?!) She was offered the option of staying on call. But apparently has found other employment. She also suspected that half of the employees at the place worked under the table, since the owner never asked her to fill out any W-2's or anything. (I think she meant W-4's though....)
I think that it's time for me to make business cards that say "read about this conversation tomorrow at this link," and pass them out on the bus. I'm sure people would get a kick out of it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Bus Gossip
Apparently a good profession to be in Seattle is a therapist. Yes, there are several in this great city, but they all have waiting lists. And how do I know? Bus gossip. What exactly is that? It's when two friends, completely oblivious to the rest of the people on the bus, tell each other their deepest, darkest secrets, all the while thinking that nobody can hear them or is interested in what they are saying. Unfortunately, those types are usually only few on the bus, so their voices carry REALLY well, making the others interested even if they weren't in the beginning. They just have no choice. And yesterday's story was pretty entertaining.
Apparently the two friends both have only recently moved to Seattle. From what I understood, one of them was from New York (Why would someone do that to themselves?!). Both have joined meetup groups and went to several meetings around the city in hopes of finding friends. Instead, they got constantly clogged e-mails. Both have now stopped going. One of them works in a medical profession, which I know because she was talking about referring clients to a therapist. That's when the story got good.
The two women griped about how there aren't any good therapists in the city, at least that insurance covers. And how it's a shame that to see them there is a huge waiting list, and when you finally make that appointment, you never hit it off. One of them then proceeded to tell a story of her friend Katie, who, apparently, wouldn't mind her telling it because she told a room full of people. (Probably completely unaware that the entire city will soon find out!) To an open heart-to-heart about relationship issues, Katies' therapist proceeded to tell her that she has a good friend that Katie would be perfect for and that she can hook them up! After Katie didn't make any more appointments, the therapist called her and asked if it was something she said. The women went on and on about how unprofessional that was. I sat nearby "not listening" intently.
I have to say, I love when stories like this happen. And I just wish that the whole Seattle read my blog and wondered who the heck I am. Because then they would all be careful about relaying confidential information to each other on busses and trains and keep it down. And the rest of us commuters would have an opportunity to listen to our i-pods and read our literature without having to become involuntary witnesses to stories about people we've never met. No matter how entertaining they might be.
Apparently the two friends both have only recently moved to Seattle. From what I understood, one of them was from New York (Why would someone do that to themselves?!). Both have joined meetup groups and went to several meetings around the city in hopes of finding friends. Instead, they got constantly clogged e-mails. Both have now stopped going. One of them works in a medical profession, which I know because she was talking about referring clients to a therapist. That's when the story got good.
The two women griped about how there aren't any good therapists in the city, at least that insurance covers. And how it's a shame that to see them there is a huge waiting list, and when you finally make that appointment, you never hit it off. One of them then proceeded to tell a story of her friend Katie, who, apparently, wouldn't mind her telling it because she told a room full of people. (Probably completely unaware that the entire city will soon find out!) To an open heart-to-heart about relationship issues, Katies' therapist proceeded to tell her that she has a good friend that Katie would be perfect for and that she can hook them up! After Katie didn't make any more appointments, the therapist called her and asked if it was something she said. The women went on and on about how unprofessional that was. I sat nearby "not listening" intently.
I have to say, I love when stories like this happen. And I just wish that the whole Seattle read my blog and wondered who the heck I am. Because then they would all be careful about relaying confidential information to each other on busses and trains and keep it down. And the rest of us commuters would have an opportunity to listen to our i-pods and read our literature without having to become involuntary witnesses to stories about people we've never met. No matter how entertaining they might be.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Secret Shelter
On some days a person just deserves a break. Morning comes too early, work is too hectic, financial discipline unbearable, and lunch forgotten to be made. On days like that I allow myself a little indulgence: eating out at my favorite place downtown. With the entrance being tucked away in the maze of Pike Place Market, the small Bar&Grill is actually smack in the middle of all the action. Never crowded at lunch, and almost empty, if you arrive a little before or after, the place is a people-watcher's heaven. The windows face the market, and from the height of the second floor, I can observe everything that's going on down on the street without any fear that anyone will notice. People run back and forth, homeless walk around begging for change, and tourists take endless pictures by the sign, by the fish, and by the huge metal pig placed in front of the entrance.
There's a building across the street which holds the sign "La Salle Hotel" on it. From the posters on the windows, as well as the different kinds of curtains and blinds on every floor, I have deduced that it no longer serves as a hotel. But the building almost hauntingly draws me to itself. I have walked around pike place trying to find the entrance several times now, with no luck. No online searches on the title have given back any satisfying results. The place seems depressing and sad from the outside. But my imagination runs wild thinking what the inside holds. It brings to life several scenarios:
~A hardwood floor suite with curtains on the windows and a boudoir in a dimly lit room; a cabaret performer is doing her make-up in a pink velvet robe and silk stiletto slippers. Playing in the background is an old record of classical jazz. Her emotions are all over the place: happiness from success and the anticipation of the rush that takes over her body whenever she first steps on stage is mixed with a sadness and a longing for something deeper and more meaningful. A tear glides down a perfect face as she stares in the mirror and doesn't recognize herself in the reflection.
~ A carpeted room is filled with clutter made up of books, papers, paintings and cd's. The couch is overtaken by boxes of documents, maps, and clothes. A guy in his late twenties is sitting by the couch with a pen in his hand, staring thoughtfully into the notepad on his lap. He's wearing a hat, t-shirt and corduroy pants, and hasn't shaved for a while. There's no point, since he's not planning to go outside, into the rain, and into the influence of the bustling world... It's unclear if he's a song writer or a novelist. But the thoughts he is trying to express have taken over his mind and body. He sits still, biting his pen, and concentrating on the empty lines that his heart is ready to fill but the mind isn't ready to find.
~ There's no light in the room. All it holds is an empty bed with worn-out linens that smell like grandma's closet. Lightning strikes. No one occupies this place. Somehow the room has been forgotten from the past. The furniture is still the same as it was when the place was a hotel. It sits still and silent, not giving away any of its secrets, with only the bed and dresser aware of everything that has happened within the four walls. It gives out a chilly vibe. No one has lived in it for years -- an unexplainable phenomenon on Seattle's housing market. Somehow the landlords don't care. Or maybe they have been getting rent for the place for years now from a Mr. Smith who holds the place for himself but never goes anywhere close to it. Or maybe the unit somehow slipped through the accounting cracks of a large property-management company and nobody has noticed that it has been empty for so long...
These thoughts occupy my mind every time my eyes see the sign from across the street. Before long I have to step out of my daydream and go back to work. But the forty minutes I have to muse and wonder give me the energy to deal with real life situations for the rest of the day.
There's a building across the street which holds the sign "La Salle Hotel" on it. From the posters on the windows, as well as the different kinds of curtains and blinds on every floor, I have deduced that it no longer serves as a hotel. But the building almost hauntingly draws me to itself. I have walked around pike place trying to find the entrance several times now, with no luck. No online searches on the title have given back any satisfying results. The place seems depressing and sad from the outside. But my imagination runs wild thinking what the inside holds. It brings to life several scenarios:
~A hardwood floor suite with curtains on the windows and a boudoir in a dimly lit room; a cabaret performer is doing her make-up in a pink velvet robe and silk stiletto slippers. Playing in the background is an old record of classical jazz. Her emotions are all over the place: happiness from success and the anticipation of the rush that takes over her body whenever she first steps on stage is mixed with a sadness and a longing for something deeper and more meaningful. A tear glides down a perfect face as she stares in the mirror and doesn't recognize herself in the reflection.
~ A carpeted room is filled with clutter made up of books, papers, paintings and cd's. The couch is overtaken by boxes of documents, maps, and clothes. A guy in his late twenties is sitting by the couch with a pen in his hand, staring thoughtfully into the notepad on his lap. He's wearing a hat, t-shirt and corduroy pants, and hasn't shaved for a while. There's no point, since he's not planning to go outside, into the rain, and into the influence of the bustling world... It's unclear if he's a song writer or a novelist. But the thoughts he is trying to express have taken over his mind and body. He sits still, biting his pen, and concentrating on the empty lines that his heart is ready to fill but the mind isn't ready to find.
~ There's no light in the room. All it holds is an empty bed with worn-out linens that smell like grandma's closet. Lightning strikes. No one occupies this place. Somehow the room has been forgotten from the past. The furniture is still the same as it was when the place was a hotel. It sits still and silent, not giving away any of its secrets, with only the bed and dresser aware of everything that has happened within the four walls. It gives out a chilly vibe. No one has lived in it for years -- an unexplainable phenomenon on Seattle's housing market. Somehow the landlords don't care. Or maybe they have been getting rent for the place for years now from a Mr. Smith who holds the place for himself but never goes anywhere close to it. Or maybe the unit somehow slipped through the accounting cracks of a large property-management company and nobody has noticed that it has been empty for so long...
These thoughts occupy my mind every time my eyes see the sign from across the street. Before long I have to step out of my daydream and go back to work. But the forty minutes I have to muse and wonder give me the energy to deal with real life situations for the rest of the day.
Career Realizations
The past year has definitely been one of self-discovery for me. Straight out of college and in this economy, I got the first job that came my way -- an admin position. But I was lucky to get it at a good company, which gave me plenty of opportunity to figure out what exactly I'd like to do in life. By opportunity I don't mean options handed to me on a silver platter with a cookie-cutter explanation of exactly what I'm doing. It was more like a chance to get involved in a bunch of various projects doing a lot of different things. Because of that, I now know that I love to write, hate busy work (who doesn't?) and enjoy interacting with customers in person. Paradoxically, for professional communication I prefer e-mail... But that's not that relevant.
Through the process of self-realization I've discovered that I have a couple problems. Although I'm a creative person who loves photography, writing, dancing, singing, playing piano, decorating, fashion, editing and translating, none of these "hobbies" would ever turn into a flourishing career because of a certain mindset I have towards things I HAVE to do. The moment something I like turns into something I promised, a natural aversion to the project suddenly appears. Thus, I browse websites and ads looking for editors and writers and never hand in any work. Maybe it's because I have an aversion to rules and limitations. I have no clue how to deal with this problem, but realizing that you have one is the first step to solving it, right?
For me to function well, I have to be inspired. And inspiration comes at the most random moments in my life! For example, I had quite an experience this morning when a photography urge suddenly came over me and I started taking pictures of all the staff from my office (we all had to help out at an event). Conversely, I will admit that I don't react well to criticism -- at least initially. After I dwell on it for a while, I do realize that a lot of things that people say are constructive and I should act on them. But the slightest hint of negativity can make me abandon creative projects for week. Suddenly I feel like I'm not qualified to do what I'm doing. Maybe that's why the best of me comes out when no one has any expectations... And once again, I realize that that's a problem, but don't know how to deal with it yet.
If you are a qualified problem-solving expert, please feel free to leave a comment suggesting how to deal with this. But even with problems, becoming aware of everything you like and don't has been a great experience. Life is an interesting thing :)
Through the process of self-realization I've discovered that I have a couple problems. Although I'm a creative person who loves photography, writing, dancing, singing, playing piano, decorating, fashion, editing and translating, none of these "hobbies" would ever turn into a flourishing career because of a certain mindset I have towards things I HAVE to do. The moment something I like turns into something I promised, a natural aversion to the project suddenly appears. Thus, I browse websites and ads looking for editors and writers and never hand in any work. Maybe it's because I have an aversion to rules and limitations. I have no clue how to deal with this problem, but realizing that you have one is the first step to solving it, right?
For me to function well, I have to be inspired. And inspiration comes at the most random moments in my life! For example, I had quite an experience this morning when a photography urge suddenly came over me and I started taking pictures of all the staff from my office (we all had to help out at an event). Conversely, I will admit that I don't react well to criticism -- at least initially. After I dwell on it for a while, I do realize that a lot of things that people say are constructive and I should act on them. But the slightest hint of negativity can make me abandon creative projects for week. Suddenly I feel like I'm not qualified to do what I'm doing. Maybe that's why the best of me comes out when no one has any expectations... And once again, I realize that that's a problem, but don't know how to deal with it yet.
If you are a qualified problem-solving expert, please feel free to leave a comment suggesting how to deal with this. But even with problems, becoming aware of everything you like and don't has been a great experience. Life is an interesting thing :)
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Suddenly Cold
Seattle is a fun place to live. One of the best things about it, of course, are the unexpected weather changes. Two days ago it was hot and sunny. Now we're into day three of the usual: cold and rain. Nobody really knows how long that will last. And I don't really mind, except for the fact that it totally took me by surprise this time. It's my first winter out of my own. And I never realized that the things on windows called curtains actually serve a bigger purpose than hanging decoration.
My mom warned me too. She said I'll need some heavy curtains to keep out the cold, as well as a bed, which would make me warmer because I'd be further away from the floor. I brushed her off. Summer was a comfortable time, and I thought it's always gonna be like that. But i was wrong. For the past couple days I've been going to bed and waking up in freezing temperatures, (which I'm sure are the reason for the headache that persistently won't go away for the past twelve hours). My empty space feels extra unwelcoming and uninviting now. Suddenly a lump sum of money for a bed and a mattress seems like a good investment. As always, mom was right.
Moving out on your own will make you realize all sorts of things you didn't know before! One of them is that parents are much smarter than you think. Not that I ever doubted that... just that once again it has been confirmed. If you just moved out on your own... listen to mom and get some curtains and a bed! Because once winter comes, you'll need both! Trust me!
My mom warned me too. She said I'll need some heavy curtains to keep out the cold, as well as a bed, which would make me warmer because I'd be further away from the floor. I brushed her off. Summer was a comfortable time, and I thought it's always gonna be like that. But i was wrong. For the past couple days I've been going to bed and waking up in freezing temperatures, (which I'm sure are the reason for the headache that persistently won't go away for the past twelve hours). My empty space feels extra unwelcoming and uninviting now. Suddenly a lump sum of money for a bed and a mattress seems like a good investment. As always, mom was right.
Moving out on your own will make you realize all sorts of things you didn't know before! One of them is that parents are much smarter than you think. Not that I ever doubted that... just that once again it has been confirmed. If you just moved out on your own... listen to mom and get some curtains and a bed! Because once winter comes, you'll need both! Trust me!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My Building Never Sleeps
Almost done with a very intense and important meeting with my supervisor, all of a sudden I heard a.... marching band. In the middle of the afternoon on a thursday. Of course, if you're working in my building there's technically nothing that you should be surprised at, because in a year of working here I've realized that the most unusual things tend to happen right next to it! Below, are just a couple examples:
Example #1: The marching band, along with a set of cheerleaders, arrives in front of my building in a Seattle Duck Tour boat/bus... whatever that thing is called. All those people pour out of it and station themselves in front of the entrance. The cheerleaders do their routines and a steady stream of passers-by walk right in the middle of them. The whole shebang is there because of the opening of the new U-W floor and the fact that they just won a football game. Totally understandable, but hilarious nevertheless considering the time of day and the fact that the rest of the offices in the building are attorneys and medical professionals.
Example #2: The traffic is off the hook. Police have blocked out Union St. starting from 6th Ave. and down till 4th Ave. The SWAT team truck pulls up. There's been a bank robbery on the corner of 6th and Union involving a bomb threat. My entire office gathers by the window on the 11th floor that overlooks Union perfectly to watch what will happen. The SWAT team truck doors open and out comes a... Robot. It's gonna go into the building and try to disharm whatever explosives it may contain. Not that curious about what will happen next, and concerned more for my safety than a happy ending to the story, a bunch of us quickly pack up and leave... Better safe than sorry.
Example #3: We look outside draws by an unusual amounts of smoke in our windows. Across the street there's a bus on fire! Firetrucks fill the street making traffic really BAD. I really have nothing more to add to this one actually.
Example #4: Starbucks people downstairs talk about a client who streaked by in the morning in nothing but a speedo. They say he lost a bet... I guess that's something you'll only see from the first floor instead of eleventh...
It's a fun working life in Seattle!
Example #1: The marching band, along with a set of cheerleaders, arrives in front of my building in a Seattle Duck Tour boat/bus... whatever that thing is called. All those people pour out of it and station themselves in front of the entrance. The cheerleaders do their routines and a steady stream of passers-by walk right in the middle of them. The whole shebang is there because of the opening of the new U-W floor and the fact that they just won a football game. Totally understandable, but hilarious nevertheless considering the time of day and the fact that the rest of the offices in the building are attorneys and medical professionals.
Example #2: The traffic is off the hook. Police have blocked out Union St. starting from 6th Ave. and down till 4th Ave. The SWAT team truck pulls up. There's been a bank robbery on the corner of 6th and Union involving a bomb threat. My entire office gathers by the window on the 11th floor that overlooks Union perfectly to watch what will happen. The SWAT team truck doors open and out comes a... Robot. It's gonna go into the building and try to disharm whatever explosives it may contain. Not that curious about what will happen next, and concerned more for my safety than a happy ending to the story, a bunch of us quickly pack up and leave... Better safe than sorry.
Example #3: We look outside draws by an unusual amounts of smoke in our windows. Across the street there's a bus on fire! Firetrucks fill the street making traffic really BAD. I really have nothing more to add to this one actually.
Example #4: Starbucks people downstairs talk about a client who streaked by in the morning in nothing but a speedo. They say he lost a bet... I guess that's something you'll only see from the first floor instead of eleventh...
It's a fun working life in Seattle!
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