This is for all the NORMAL girls: August 2008

Sunday, August 31, 2008

The Last Starfighter's Life Goes On

I know that you know that I have an addictive personality.. But did you know that it started in my teen years with the television show "Life Goes On"? You remember it. The one about the boy with downsyndrome. Corky. And the girls (as I like to call them) nerdy sister becca and beautiful sister Paige?

I was obsessed with this TV show. Every sunday night, like clockwork, I made my family watch it...because I needed to see Patti Lupone singing in the voice of Evita and Corky's cute attempts at "sleeping" with his first DS girlfriend and of course the endless string of lame love interests for the girls including Tyler the kind gentle popular football hero who just would. not. go. away.

But the extent of my delusional obsession came to a head when the girls finally got boyfriends that I could really rally behind...I mean, Tyler was nice to Corky and all that, but that hair...BLECH. Enter moody, HIV positive Jesse McKenna played to fever pitch, earring-ed rebel perfection by Chad Lowe (brother of Rob).

He was a loner. Life dealt him a bum hand and he was angry at the world. It seemed that only the love of a smart, bespecled teenage girl could help him feel safe again.

And then there was Michael Romanov. Tortured artist. Scraggly bearded secret lover of betrothed but unhappy Paige played by none other than The Last Starfighter, Lance Guest. Here he is a bit younger, but the picture captures his hair...his glorious tangly tangly hair. Hi.

I think I can nail my current love of curly brown haired men down to my first encounter with a V. C. Andrews series (Heaven? I don't remember, I sadly devoured them all at a debaucherously young age) in which the protagonist was a thin, tall, long tapered fingered tortured musician. A melancholy pianist who was wealthy and tortured by his art. Tortured, with curly brown hair and artistic fingers and probably even a little bit on the pale side, like he needed more vitamin D. Did I mention the tortured artist part? And of course, only the love of a secretely adopted, bespecled, smart, damaged beauty could save him.

But I digress...so Lance Guest as Michael Romanov stole my heart away along with Paige's and I couldn't bear to miss an episode. What if this was the one? The one where Becca kisses Jesse, AIDS be damned! What if this is the one where Paige and Michael run off in their dangerously tortured artistic overalls clasping artistic hands?

Well, it's been over 15 years since the last episode aired. And the times they have-a-changed. Jesse married and divorced Hilary Swank, worked through a drug problem and didn't die of AIDS. Becca did a bunch of made for TV movies and changed her name to Christy (starring opposite ANOTHER teenage movie crush, Stan Bobrucz, FOR KEEPS?). And Michael Romanov...well....

I think we all know what he needs now, don't we...

Thursday, August 28, 2008

There is still more work to do.

God is in these words.

'I have a dream'
On 28 August, 1963, Martin Luther King delivered his magnificent "I have a dream speech" on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington. Below is the full text of his speech.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.

America has given the Negro people a bad cheque which has come back marked 'insufficient funds' But 100 years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land.
And so we've come here today to dramatize an appalling condition. In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a cheque. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the inalienable rights of "Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness."

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of colour are concerned. Instead of honouring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad cheque which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we've come to cash this cheque - a cheque that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice.

We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. 1963 is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual.

There will be neither rest nor tranquillity in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people, who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice: in the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.

The marvellous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realise that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back.

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights: "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied and we will not be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed - we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama little black boys and little black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today!
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope.

With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day, this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning: "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring." And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California. But not only that. Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi, from every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: "Free at last! Free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Permission granted by Intellectual Properties Management, Atlanta, Georgia, as manager of the King Estate. Further to Dr King's legacy by making community service a way of life, please visit the King Center's website [under related links] to find a service opportunity in your neighbourhood.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Birthday Update: 4:06pm

Here's more proof that 31 is going to be the BEST year ever.

I just checked my US bank account and discovered that my tax return has FINALLY arrived...Right NOW, on my 31st birthday!!!! I'm older, wiser AND richer today. And not just figuratively. Thank you, Uncle Sam and cousin Jen the brilliant accountant!!!

Also, one of my students, the most timid girl and sister of the artist behind "Faggy Mom" brought me a homemade birthday card. She cried, shook and backed away like she was meeting hannibal lecter when she handed it to me, but it made my day anyway.

Also, one of my coworkers gave me a korean cookbook in ENGLISH! It's the best gift ever especially because every day, I ask the lunch lady to show me how to cook and she just giggles and looks at me like I'm slightly retarded.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Today is Elvis Costello's Birthday.

There is a reason that I love him. We are eternally linked by the stars. And it turns out that many of the people I love most in the world also have virgo/leo birthdays: Family members (my brother Ian, nephew Aiden, sister-in-law Scarlette), celebrities (elvis!!! Sean Connery, Claudia Schiffer, Tim Burton, Leonard Bernstein, Monty Hall, Regis Philbin and Billy Ray Cyrus and I all share the same birthday!) and many good friends over the years including Jessica Bartley with whom I shared my baptismal date in 1986. That was meant to be!

But today I'd like to highlight my favorite and best birthday partner. A(AKA alie, alta, nipta, niptuck, Niptucky...the list goes on). Here are just a few reasons why this girl is one of my favorites-

1. Endless energy for creating nicknames. I've always always always wanted a nickname, but KaRyn doesn't really lend itself to good ones, unless you think KaRyntintin (after a dog???:( ) or KaRynnie (simple but not really very practical for everyday use) are good. Alie gives EVERYONE a nickname. She calls her mom and dad, merna and poobah. She calls her daughter, the Lady, sareenade which she then shortened to nader and then to ralph nader and then to ralph. She has also developed creative nicknames for our friend caitlyn who has gone from Caitlyn to Portland to Portlandia to Landy to Landia to landycane and so on and so on. Can you see how it works? You can't be near her without getting a nickname or giving a nickname. It's addictive. I think I've been Ninny, Ryn, nipta, and on and on and now I AM ninny beth because alie decrees it so.

2. Perfect party partner. A and I discovered that while we both enjoy being the center of attention, we didn't compete! It's the most beautiful relationship. We would go to a party, say "see you later" to each other and come back together at the end of the evening having respectively made new friends and debrief about the experience. She can hold her own.

3. EXCELLENT songwriter. I learned everything I know from A. She is the author/co-author of many of Portland's best hits:
CUTE BOYS: The musical
The Park Terrace Hos: A lullabye
We Are Friends (which lyrics include only the words "WE ARE FRIENDS!" Brilliant in their sparse beauty)
And my personal favorite (sung to the tune of John Mayer's "You're Body Is A Wonderland") My Body's Not A Garbage Can which is a functional song meant to inspire and shame you into not eating anything with dairy products in it.

4. Easy to spend hours and hours and hours accidently spooning with her. You'll probably need to ask her husband tovey for an update as A and I ended our spooning relationship about 5 years ago but The memories are still sweet. (Caitlyn: Um, are you guys SPOONING????)

5. Funniest person I've ever met. (AND I know ryan hamilton...so that says a lot) Alie is the kind of funny you don't see coming. For example: Sitting in a wendy's one night just eating a potato and chili, talking about something completely silly. Suddenly, A starts to hum along with the muzak that is loudly being pumped into the dining area. She starts swaying and closes her eyes, enraptured by this nana muskori version of something that we should all probably know. She finally opens her eyes, seriously, and says, THIS. is. my. favorite. song. Closes them again and starts to hum and sway out of sync with the music. I think I laughed till I peed and now I steal her joke. Most of my best "Material" comes from A.

6. She's married but she's not an annoying married friend who is condescending or doesn't think you can handle her life because she has to put the toilet seat down before she goes to the bathroom. She's still just as funny, engaging, motivated and fun to talk to as she ever was only now she tells weird stories about the Lady and has a darling husband playing Guitar Hero in the living room when we talk.

A, Happy Birthday two days before me! Thanks for all the dairyfree trips to Fred Meyers and helping me discover Trader Joes and being my party partner and teaching me how to have fun again after being a boring missionary and ringing in our 25th birthdays together so many years ago. I wish we were in the same place to do it all again! I'll come back to the US when you name a kid after me.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Ninny Goes to Japan and DOESN'T see the worlds second largest ferris wheel

I had this brilliant idea that I would see the world's second largest Ferris wheel when I went to Japan. Did you know that it takes 2o minutes to make one revolution in this genius contraption that is second only to the London Eye? Yes, yes, this was going to be my Japanese moment of glory. But then we got there and it was hot. really really hot. And the ferris wheel was 45 minutes away from the place we were staying. And I didn't have a boy to kiss for the 20 minutes of ferris wheel fun. And I'm not a very determined tourist. So I mostly just got foot massages, ate ramen and went to the movies. Here is a brief run down of my trip to Fukuoka Japan divided into "categories of international interest" for your ease and enjoyment.
COII 1: TRANSPORTATION