Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tragedy of the commons
Why? Why are we consumed by consuming? Why do we have to make more things, bigger things? Why do we have to create jobs that are complete dead ends? What kind of progress will we get from hiring engineers to make water slides when they could be pondering progressive infrastructures and green buildings? We're digging and we're getting nowhere. I'd be okay with paying for something productive, but water parks? Baseball stadiums? Polar bear exhibits? Instead of putting them in cages, let's create jobs for people dedicated to finding ways to keep these beings alive in their natural habitats.
It's all backwards. And nobody seems to get it. Short term gains without consideration for long term consequences.
About abortion.
On Dec. 3, a nurse employed at the Bloomington Planned Parenthood was suspended without pay after a tape surfaced showing her advising an alleged 13-year-old pregnant girl to lie about her age and the age of her 31-year-old boyfriend to avoid being reported to the police. The nurse then told the girl how to go across state lines to get an abortion without the consent of her parents.
Since then, an official investigation was conducted and that nurse has been fired, because in the state of Indiana, anyone under the age of 13 who is having sex must be reported to the police and Child Protective Services, as there could be a case of child abuse and/or statutory rape.
The catch is that the 13-year-old girl in the video was actually a 21-year-old UCLA student named Lila Rose. Rose travels to different Planned Parenthoods around the country and poses as a young teenager who needs help with a serious problem. Her objective, she says, is to catch Planned Parenthood covering up the abuse of young girls, which she claims the organization has been doing for years.
Initially, I was upset with Rose’s deceit and with the outcome of the situation, seeing as how the employee, who has given me helpful consultation in the past, lost her job in trying to help a young girl avoid a painful, unwanted pregnancy.
But yesterday, yet another video was released documenting the same situation in Indianapolis, and my frustration is now split between Planned Parenthood’s lack of caution and Lila Rose’s pro-life driven attacks on an organization that has helped many women for years. Most frustrating is that Rose is using the claim that she wants to protect young girls as leverage, when really, her intention is to hurt Planned Parenthood and draw negative attention to abortion rights.
It is disheartening that Planned Parenthood employees are not obeying the law. This is a clear demonstration that they are unaware of where their loyalty to their customers ends and where moral and legal obligation begins. What they offer is affordable, easy to access, confidential consultation on issues that are already incredibly controversial, especially in Indiana. Knowing this, they should be taking every step to ensure that their much needed services continue to be provided, and that they leave no wiggle room for mistakes. They will always have people on their back, waiting for them to slip up with evidence to support anti-abortion agendas. Perhaps the organization needed something like this to put them back in the mindset of carefully and mindfully considering each and every case and treating it with caution and care.
But Rose has not suggested there be any retraining of employees. Instead, she suggests the organization lose its government funding all together.
“Our goal is to expose to the public what’s going on in these clinics,” she said. “I would like to see Planned Parenthood convicted for its many abuses and de-funded. It’s an outrage that an organization covering up the sex abuse of young girls has a third of its budget propped up by taxpayer money.”
What a horrible thing to have happen.
Planned Parenthood is not the abuser in this situation, nor are they at fault for the numerous instances of abuse that happen each year. In fact, Planned Parenthood is partially responsible for lowering the abortion rate, which, in Sept., the Alan Guttmacher Institute reported is at its lowest since 1974. What types of things prevent early pregnancy? Sex education programs, easy to access contraceptives and health care, social acceptance of sexual expression, and government support that helps teens get information and confidential services. Planned Parenthood provides each and every one of these things, and has therefore played a huge role in actually reducing the abortion rate.
If Planned Parenthood goes, I would estimate that the number of teen pregnancies would rise and so would the number of abortions.
So Planned Parenthood does so many great things for its customers. They provide sex education, contraceptives, and consultation to help prevent unwanted pregnancies and promote healthy sex lives.
Personally, I’d like to know how many clinics Rose went to that did report her, and chose not to consult her without taking the appropriate legal action first. My guess would be that Planned Parenthood does more good than bad.
But these videos do represent a problem, and no one could argue that allowing a possible account of statutory rape to go unreported is excusable. But if Rose really gave a damn about helping young people stay safe, she’d never suggest Planned Parenthood lose any funding. Instead, she would take a more progressive approach and suggest the organization retrain its employees and revamp its approach toward confidentiality, because there are young people everywhere who are in dire need of help.
And while I agree that in both situations, the nurse should have made a report, and while Planned Parenthood needs to take more caution when dealing with these kinds of sensitive situations, there have got to be better ways to prevent teen victimization that don’t involve wild claims against Planned Parenthood or getting people fired.
So how else can we focus our attention on improving the sexual safety of our young ones? How about donating money to an organization like the Child Abuse Prevention Organization? How about actively participating in spreading information about the signs of abuse and how parents can prevent it? How about becoming a mentor? How about investing in sound sex education that emphasizes the importance of using protection?
Since the Indianapolis video was released, the Indiana attorney general’s office has been asked by Jackie Walorski, a republican Indiana state representative, to look into Planned Parenthood’s activities. I can only hope that this leads to an awakening for the organization. I can only hope they will become more careful and law abiding.
But you have to wonder, what are the chances a real 13-year-old girl who got mixed up with a 31-year-old man is going to come forward to talk about her problem now? How many young girls have been scared away from doing so, knowing they could become national news? How many 8th graders are going to carry the child of a grown man because they were too afraid they would have to talk to the police if they went to Planned Parenthood?
There are so many more positive ways Rose could focus her energy. She has successfully ruined the life of one at least one employee and says there are more tapes that will be released soon. In return, Rose has gotten more news coverage than any of us will ever have. If she really wanted to help people, she’d put her focus elsewhere, toward the real offenders, and toward helping the girls who need it. Instead she is lying, deceiving and adding fuel to a fire that is already blazing across the nation, and the young people who need all the good things Planned Parenthood offers are the ones getting burned.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Yule (b)log
Blessed be.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Hungry.
I've spent the last hour or so looking at NYC apartments online. Who knows if visualizing really helps, but I doubt it can hurt. Seems the cheapest they before they become downright dirty is around $1,500 a month. One day. One day soon.
This last week was a long one. It was the week before finals and it was supposed to be relatively mellow, but I had two papers due and an article to finish. The papers should be A material and the article went front and center (finally). I'd been working on it for more than a month and they kept sending me back to the drawing board before I finally gave up and started over from scratch. Sometimes you have to wipe the slate clean to end up with a good finished product. Sometimes your first try is crap. The story was about the culture centers on campus and the inequity they experience in both their funding and support from the University. I was pleased with the way it came out. My friend Tyler read it while we were closing the Deli last night. He gave me the greatest compliment a journalist can receive: "You are quite objective in this."
I am applying here and there and everywhere for summer internships. I've already got a story idea for my spring internship at the Herald Times, and I hope to start gathering the pieces relatively soon. I don't want to go in there and take orders. I want to leave with at least three extremely strong clips to send out to employers.
It's been snowing and it's so chilly. I like the winter sometimes. In a few months, I'll hate it for sure, but right now it's kind of nice. With the approaching holiday, I feel cheery. I'll feel even more so when my finals are over next week and I get to spend break with both my family and Spencer's. I'm going to Chicago for Christmas but we're going to Colorado for New Years.
I drove my friend Scott home tonight from work and we talked about all the camping equipment he's bought over the past few months. He's planning for when the world collapses and people have to start surviving rather than living. I told him I was coming to his house when it all ended. Really, I think I'll buy a tent when I get around to it.
Adios. Ciao.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Cars and moons.
I'm really pleased with Obama's apparent determination to make headway on the environment. His environmental team seems sound, and he's met with Al Gore, which raised plenty of eyebrows. What I like is that he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't seem to be pulled around by the people in his administration, or the people who criticise him. I feel like he will make serious changes that could have huge impacts.
I don't know about anyone else, but I feel bad when I drive my car. I think there's something wrong when we're poisoning the earth every time we go to and from work.
I'm drinking some tea and listening to good music here at 9:30 in the morning on a Thursday. I work this evening, and again tomorrow evening. Saturday and Sunday are reserved for writing and studying for my two remaning exams. Friday is devoted to calling newspapers and sending out resumes. A friend of mine got an internship at the Wall Street Journal. He was excited. I got scared.
But, I'm not so much anymore. My faith has returned in the same way the moon does after a few days of darkness. And tomorrow it's a full one, so maybe I'll get some good news.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Messages that make your day.
Well done! Congratulations again.
This represents a lot of work. Can you do a follow-on series to document
the progress?
What is the possibility of your writing opinion columns for the next
semester? Can you do both at the same time?
Is one paid for both types of writing at your paper?
How do you obtain feedback from your readers?
Is there a group of colleagues on the "news side" of the paper that
regularly read and offer comment on your work?
Do you have a "news editor" that is one of the permanent staff of the paper?
Do you have a formal journalism class/club that, as a matter of practice,
reads and critiques the work of the membership?
There does come a time when you (and your work) come to a level of
maturity/accomplishment that your self-assessment becomes your best
standard. I assume that much of what you might receive from your readers is
in the category of approval/disapproval, not the critique of the format or
process used in generating the article.
Well, importantly, I am eager to learn more about your profession, one that
is as important as ever in undergirding our evolving democratic society.
As a society with all its warts and wounds and wrinkles, we shall be in very
good hands, if you, and others of similar mind, energy, experience, and
motivation, continue to hold the pen!
Admiration and Love,
Grandpa
Monday, December 1, 2008
Tis the season
I'm sitting at The Spoon with a hot cup of their amazing coffee (it's like I'm biting right in to a coffee bean, except there's no bitter aftertaste). It's snowing outside - small wet specks that stick to my clothes and leave me a drippy puddle when I walk in to a heated room. It's not really sticking to the ground much. There's a slight white layer, but I suspect it will be gone by this evening.
I just ate two over easy eggs, some toast and a few strips of greasy bacon. Now I'm full and sleepy. I wish today were like yesterday. Spencer and I slept in until noon and worked at our leisure. The absence of time constraints and pressure was nice, but today life is once again split in to chunks of time - the empty ones are the most valuable and yet I manage to fill them quite quickly.
The man next to me just got his food. He ordered a broccoli, bacon and cheese omelet and a pancake. He opened his napkin and spread it on his lap and let out a big sigh and looked at his food. Then he plunged his fork in to the omelet and began to eat.
I love breakfast. I love the smell of it and I love the time of day when it is eaten. Mornings are crisp and promising. The best days are when you have very little to do, at all. I like to spend those days in bookstores, scouring the shelves for interesting stuff. I usually don't buy much, but I sit for a long time. I think bookstores are some of the most comforting places for me. I can't wait to pick up a good book when the semester ends, when I actually have time for it.
Thanksgiving was nice. Most of the family was in Lafayette. Rikki brought her friend Haley. Uncle John was missing, though, as was Lindsey and the rest of the Massachusetts family. It seems nothing really changes at my Grandma's house. No matter how old I am, the feeling is always the same when I come home.
This is the season for comfort. Everyone is looking for a source of heat, and family can be such a fantastic way to stay warm.
I think this Winter will be okay. Probably it will be long, but okay. It's my last in Bloomington and I plan on making it a good one. The Union has lights that run up its side that when lit, look like candle sticks. I drove by them the other night and realized how much I'm going to miss this place. I've found so much of myself here. I know I'll be changing, but I really enjoy the person I've become in Bloomington.
Time for class.
Cheers.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Give thanks, give thoughts of peace.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
grumble and guff
This morning I had another cold awakening. I don't have money for rent. And I can say that honestly, it's not my fault. I worked Saturday and like any other Saturday, I should have made at least $100. Instead, I walked in 10 minutes late on accident, making it the first time I've been late in over two years. I was insulted when, as punishment, one of my managers took me off tables and made me do support work (bus, run food, host). Insulted because there is only one other server who has been there longer than me, I am one of their best sellers, and I'm a hard worker. Instead of making any money in tips, I got paid minimum wage from 8 to 2, and I don't get that money for another two weeks. I think it's a little unfair. I think it's really unfair, actually, because that threw a wrench into my entire monthly budget. You can't just take a server off tables when their only income is money they get from tips. All because I was there at 7:40, not 7:30. I think the Deli is relatively corrupt, and a majority of the people working there are entirely too wrapped up in the job. I don't want drama when I go to work, I want to make money. It will be nice when I'm out of there, I guess.
Thankfully, I have a family that supports me when I need them to. I think I've done a pretty good job trying to ween myself away from using their money unless I really need it. I pay for my gas, my utilities, my food and groceries, my clothes, and almost half my rent. I don't pay for school or books or insurance or my phone. In time, I suppose. Spencer offered to help spot me for rent and I just about melted. What a guy.
I am drinking a new kind of Yogi Tea called Mexican Sweet Chili. It's got a kick to it that tingles my taste buds. It's a warming tea, good for cold mornings like today.
Thanksgiving is Thursday and I'll most likely spend most of my break doing homework and writing papers. I've got a huge research paper due in two weeks that I haven't had time to start (honestly). Usually I'd say that just to relieve myself of responsibility, but I actually haven't had any time to sit down and do research. Between writing three to four articles a week for the IDS, busy work for classes and closing the Deli two nights a week, making my way to the library has taken to the back burner. But I look forward to sitting in a corner window at Vienna Cafe this week and writing, feeling warm and nostalgic. I really love the Holidays.
I remember last year when the first heavy snow fell and we went sledding over on 17th street in the middle of the night. Afterwards we came back to the Henderson house and drank hot cocoa. I still have that sled in my trunk.
I am making more fond memories with friends, although they seem to come less often. We are all so busy and hardly see one another, so when we find time to spend all together, it's really a treat. Dave Chale came to town for the BratPack Thanksgiving last Thursday. When he walked in the door I almost cried. It was so good to see him and it brought back a lot of fond memories from two years ago. I really missed Welder and Stacy and the way there used to be five of us. I miss feeling like a family. But, I don't think any of us are any less fulfilled nowadays. We've supplemented; some of us have more school work, others have relationships, and others are across the country living out their dreams in L.A. (Cory). But we still love each other and the family we were. We talked with Dave about what happened two years ago and why. For me, it felt really nice to talk about it because it's been a really taboo topic for a really long time, and we'd never had insight from Dave's perspective. I have to be honest with myself: I will miss Sarah Welder until I don't. I know very little about who she is anymore, but she was my friend, and it's hard to let go of friendships that end for no good reason.
Honestly, I've been feeling restless. I want to see new things and be uncomfortable. I've been back in my comfort zone for too long and I'm getting bored. I want to travel. I want new scenery. I want new food and new parks and new buildings and new acquaintances. I don't ever want to feel stagnant. There is a lot out there and I've hardly seen any of it. How could anyone be expected to be content with that.
Monday, November 17, 2008
More images that make me happy
I sat down with a group of ritzy women in the breakfast nook of the Bryan House today. The Bryan House is where the McRobbies live (they are the presidential family of IU). These women all work for the McRobbie family and are participating in the "Food Stamp Challenge", and will be eating on $21 this week. It was strange to sit around a table with older women in pearls and suits and listen to them talk excitedly about the challenge ahead of them this week. They said each of them had, at one point or another, been on food stamps or welfare.
One woman, named Tami, said she was the "kid" of the group. She is like me and needs a daily dose of sweets, and she drools over red velvet pound cake (with cream cheese icing). I liked her.
I was on campus today from 11:15 until 7:30. Tomorrow promises to be just as long of a day, only I start earlier. I have an exam on Wednesday, the BratPack Thanksgiving dinner to attend and cook for on Thursday, and Spencer's birthday on Friday. Next week is the real Thanksgiving, and it's about time we all get a break. I can't believe how quickly time has gone by this semester. We only have a few weeks left, and it's certainly crunch time. I have so many projects due and essays to write. Applications are going out for next semester's desk editors at the Indiana Daily Student and I wish I could apply. I finally feel like I fit in there, but I am limited by their competition - The Herald Times - which I am writing for next semester. Oh well. The HT will be great experience among older mentors, and I think it will give me some room to really do what I want.
I put up some Christmas lights last night. I can't wait to go buy a tree, although I don't have stand. Hmph. I really enjoy living alone, although I don't think I would have last year or the year before. It takes a certain level of comfort to live by yourself and come home to no one. I really like my space, though, so it suits me. And the BratPack has dispersed a lot this year, so it's not like I'm outside the hub of activity. I haven't seen Jersey in like two weeks, and I rarely see Alison. Cory is gone forever in California (and hopefully not being consumed by the raging fires!), Megan and Stacy are on the other side of town, and we all have schedules that make it hard to even stop for coffee.
Sigh. Big. Sigh.
My, how things have changed this year. My, how graduation is creeping up quickly. I'm not sure how I'll identify myself when I can no longer say I'm a student.
Responsibility! Opportunity! Intimidation! Books! I'll probably do a lot of leisure reading, because I've been so limited to text books and essays lately. If I ever get new glasses.
What a nerve-racking change of identity it is to go from student to member of the real world (although, I think it's all a matter of perspective). I'm worried if I don't get a job, I'll feel I've come to a dead halt. That's when I start to get depressed - when I feel I'm working towards nothing. I think that's why I'm so interested in journalism. There is an undertone of CHANGE THE WORLD, ONE READER AT A TIME! Progress. Journalism = progress? Indeed.


Remember the fortune cookie and its prediction?
My friend Gregg got the same one. What a buzz kill.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Prophets
The waiter brought us our fortune cookies, which, by the way, have apparently been upgraded to chocolate. I opened mine up and just about lost it when I read what it had to say.
You will become an accomplished writer.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
oBAMa
It's raining. I've spent the day on the phone with sources, jotting down scribbles of information, gathering facts, listening and thinking and stressing out about all the things I have yet to do but have been sitting on my "to do" list for a week.
Obama was elected two days ago. For people my age, this is a chance to feel like your country is your friend. When I first started to show interest in politics, Bush was in office. I've learned almost everything I know about government and politics with Bush and his administration as my teacher. I've spent so much time looking elsewhere for answers about what a leader should look like. I've never known to be proud of my President until now. There are those who lived when the U.S. was a beacon of hope for the rest of the world and there are those, like me, who have never felt anything but embarrassed and ashamed of their own nationality.
Things can change and hope is alive and it will not be beaten down by those too scared to embrace it. There is only fear and love, and although it may take some time to pry ourselves away from the fear we've been taught to hold to in times of uncertainty, we will learn to love and we will be bold again.
Tuesday night was like New Year's Eve. Everyone stopped what they were doing to huddle around the television like the ball was dropping. I don't know if I'll ever forget that moment. He came on stage and he addressed millions of people and he united them all. And we all choked up a bit, realizing that our dream really had come true.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
A good glass of wine.
I sit in this chair and I think about all the things I want to do. Not the little things like clean my kitchen floor or re-pot my plants. Not the daily habits and routines and chores, but the big things, like travel, like move to a big city, like write for a major publication. I think it's interesting how much time I spend doing things that, overall, don't matter much at all. I check my Facebook three times a day. I brush my teeth twice. I work at The Deli four times a week and I drink two cups of coffee in the morning. All of these things mean very little but make up the bulk of my existence. I do all that to keep me afloat and to propel me towards the big things I really want to do. I think it's important to appreciate the little things, and to consider how they guide me.
Honestly, nothing overly interesting happened to me today. Work was mundane and slow because the football game was an early one.
Tomorrow I work again, and I hope it will be busy so time will whiz by. Tomorrow afternoon I plan on finishing my internship applications and sending them off. I've been avoiding that.
I really miss Rome tonight. The more time passes and the more used to being home I become, the more I want to be back in that small apartment with those three amazing women.
Here in Bloomington, Autumn is in full swing. The trees are turning shades of red and orange and yellow and the leaves are falling romantically onto the sidewalks I peddle on to class.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
an essay
“As a member of the media, bias reflected in a journalist’s material has its origins from his or her own bias or from other influences.”
Does anyone know what the question is? I certainly don't. I asked my professor and he said, essentially, "Well, is there bias in the media or not?" And I was puzzled. The more I write, the more confused I am, because I'm not sure if I'm on track because I still don't understand how the above statement translates to: is the media bias?
I'm arguing that the media is bias. Of course I am. Not all media is bias, but the journalist is the only one responsible for their articles, and they are responsible for being as fair and objective as they can, despite how impossible that really is. The world itself is not fair or impartial or objective and it's just not reasonable to ask us to tell balanced stories about unbalanced circumstances. Barack Obama knows more about foreign policy than Sarah Palin. That's a statement rooted in fact and I don't feel I should have to find someone who argues differently to be fair or impartial.
More later. I have an essay to write.
Poetry pays
Anyway, I heard on NPR yesterday that Merwin makes $25,000 - $30,000 a year. This is a man who has won a Pulitzer Prize for his poems.
First, this struck me as honorable. What a humble person he must be to settle for that small salary. It seems he's happy so long as he is writing poetry, but maybe that's just me being romantic. I wonder if he's ever tried to do anything else.
Second, I decided I think people should read more poetry. If he were selling more books (he has written dozens, I own one of them), he'd be making more money.
The starving artist perpetuated.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Weighing credibility
"He's got a tremendous amount of experience and, you know, I'm the new energy, the new face, the new ideas and he's got the experience based on many, many years in the Senate and voters are gonna have a choice there of what it is that they want in these next four years," Palin said.
She said it. Biden has the years and years of experience in the Senate. Palin is "new energy."
I personally would prefer to have someone in office who knows what their doing, has ideas based on years of experience, rather than a "new face." I'm sick of it already, actually.
Funny, it's the same argument with the Presidential nominees. People say McCain has all the experience and Obama is simply a new face. The difference is that Obama has some serious credibility, has serious experience, and knows more about foreign policy than a 2nd grader. He's got Palin beat.
words. confetti.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Ominous clouds over Washington.
About the bailout:

-CNN.com"Nobody wants to have to support this bill, but it's a bill that we believe will avert the crisis that's out there," House Minority Leader John Boehner, R-Ohio, told reporters.
But the bill did draw some opposition during the morning debate.
Rep. John Culberson, R-Texas, said the measure would leave a huge burden on taxpayers. "This legislation is giving us a choice between bankrupting our children and bankrupting a few of these big financial institutions on Wall Street that made bad decisions," he said.
Other conservative Republicans argued the bill would be a blow against economic freedom.
Thaddeus McCotter, R-Mich., said the bill posed a choice between the loss of prosperity in the short term or economic freedom in the long term. He said once the federal government enters the financial market place, it will not leave. "The choice is stark," he said.
But there were also Democrats who opposed the bill for not doing enough to help those who taxpayers facing foreclosure or needing unemployment benefits extended, or taxing Wall Street to pay for the rescue package.
"Like the Iraq war and patriot act, this bill is fueled by fear and haste," said Lloyd Doggett, D-Texas.
Bailout plan rejected
House leaders scramble for support for controversial Wall Street plan
by Chris Isidore
September 29, 2008
And about the candidates:
Mr. McCain defended himself from critics who said he had acted impetuously by returning to Washington last week to work on the bailout proposal, which some said had made a deal more difficult.
“Some people have criticized my decision to put my country first, but I will never, ever be a president who sits on the sidelines when this country faces a crisis,’’ said Mr. McCain. And Mr. McCain, who spent this weekend in Washington working the phones, but did not actually return to Capitol Hill , said: “I know that many of you have noticed, but it’s not my style to simply ‘phone it in.’ ”
-The New York Times
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Caucus - The New York Times Politics Blog
Palin Says She Is Looking Forward To Debate
by Michael Cooper
Also, Sarah Palin is currently at "debate camp" where she is "catching up" on foreign policy issues she's never faced before. You're running for VP and you know less than most Americans about foreign policy?
She debates Democratic VP nominee Joe Biden on Thursday.
Here's a question CNN.com commenter brought up: If McCain were to win the election, are we going to send her to Vice President camp, too? Hand-holding is unacceptable. Sarah Palin is unprepared and, as some people are suggesting, should be removed from the ticket.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Supporting the Republican candidate
"From an inspirational notion, however flawed in execution, that has buttressed the global spread of liberty, American exceptionalism has morphed into the fortress of those who see themselves threatened by “one-worlders” (read Barack Obama) and who believe it’s more important to know how to dress moose than find Mumbai.
That’s Palinism, a philosophy delivered without a passport and with a view (on a clear day) of Russia.Behind Palinism lies anger. It’s been growing as America’s relative decline has become more manifest in falling incomes, imploding markets, massive debt and rising new centers of wealth and power from Shanghai to Dubai.
The damn-the-world, God-chose-us rage of that America has sharpened as U.S. exceptionalism has become harder to square with the 21st-century world’s interconnectedness. How exceptional can you be when every major problem you face, from terrorism to nuclear proliferation to gas prices, requires joint action?
Very exceptional, insists Palin, and so does John McCain by choosing her. (He has said: “I do believe in American exceptionalism. We are the only nation I know that really is deeply concerned about adhering to the principle that all of us are created equal.”)
America is distinct. Its habits and attitudes with respect to religion, patriotism, voting and the death penalty, for example, differ from much of the rest of the developed world. It is more ideological than other countries, believing still in its manifest destiny. At its noblest, it inspires still.
But, let’s face it, from Baghdad to Bear Stearns the last eight years have been a lesson in the price of exceptionalism run amok.
To persist with a philosophy grounded in America’s separateness, rather than its connectedness, would be devastating at a time when the country faces two wars, a financial collapse unseen since 1929, commodity inflation, a huge transfer of resources to the Middle East, and the imperative to develop new sources of energy.
Enough is enough."
Is it enough to say I agree?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Politics, seasons, jobs.
Let's do a bit of writing between classes. I have an hour. Go.
I just got an email from Andrea Murray, the managing editor at the Herald Times, telling me I've been accepted for the internship I applied for. I'll be writing for them in the Spring, and I'm so relieved. I'm relieved because lately I've felt that no matter how much I want to write professionally, I don't have the experience to do it or be hired to do it. The Herald Times is a local Bloomington paper, and they focus mainly on local happenings. I'll be a general assignments reporter, which basically means I'll report on whatever they tell me to. Fine with me. I'll roll with the punches.
In other news, fall is approaching slowly but surely. I'm not sure what tips me off, the cooling of the air, the approaching festivals (The Feast of The Hunter's Moon is this weekend), the Halloween decorations that overflow into twelve different aisles at Target, or the warm colors that begin to creep through the veins of all the leaves that hang over Washington street. Whatever it is, it lights a fire in me that warms my core and makes me increasingly anxious and excited. My insides are doing cartwheels in a witch's costume. Fall isn't complete without a few trips to the local Farmer's Market. Stacy and I went on Saturday and I bought yellow tomatoes, red peppers, flowers and a huge bunch of a fragrant plant called Queen Annie. I'd never heard of it, but I'd smelled it before and it is such a sweet, earthy smell and I couldn't resist. Now it hangs in my kitchen, in my bed room, and in my bathroom. It was really nice to spend time with Stacy and laugh with her.
My house is finally complete. All shelves are up, all junk piles have been shoved out of sight (under my bed), and I feel very comfortable. I thought I might feel lonely here, being the only person around. Really, I don't feel much different than I have for the past three years I've been living with roommates. I guess that says a lot for how much interacting I did. I tend to be kept to myself. I really like my space. Sometimes I miss coming home to the sounds of other people's voices, but it doesn't make me any less excited to come home. There is something very satisfying about opening the door and being completely pleased by the aesthetics of what you see in the room, and knowing you did all the decorating.
I haven't been very social lately. Let me rephrase. I haven't been social with the people who matter the most. I've been talking to a lot of new people, mainly because I am responsible for interviewing at least three sources per article I write. I write about three of those a week for the IDS, so I talk to no less than nine new people a week. I'm learning a lot. I'm networking a lot. I'm getting more and more comfortable approaching mere strangers, none of which have ever rudely refused to talk to me (which is reassuring, although I'm sure it's only a matter of time before I find the one person in the crowd who just got fired).
The problem with all the work I've been doing for the paper is how little I've been doing for school. Whoops. The other problem is that I haven't been paying much attention to my spirit. I've done no meditation, I've hardly done any yoga, and I spend a lot of my time very tightly wound, planning, thinking, writing, and racing to the finish line. And then I sleep. I can't let myself stay in that routine or it will kill me.
I leave you with a few pictures of yesterday's downpour. Enjoy.


Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
A Soma Entry
His eyes settled on the corner table, the least cozy of them all where there is no light and no privacy.
After quiet contemplation, he shrugged and decided it would have to do.
I'm writing again.
I've been saying all summer I was going to, and more often strings of words run through my head and I wish I had a pencil to jot them down.
I'm also writing for the IDS again and I feel great about it. I feel productive and efficient. I feel like I'm good at what I want to do. I'm making contacts, I have a responsibility to stay on top of events and activities on campus. Once you dive in, the water isn't nearly as scary as it seemed from the edge.
Hello students, welcome back. School starts in a week. I need to buy my books but I think I'm subconsciously avoiding the insides of campus. It's move in week for freshman and not only are they clogging up the streets, they and their parents are clogging up my tables at the Deli. Finally, some money is coming my way. I'm working six days this week and it might kill me, but at least my bank accounts will be revived. Hello egg white omelets. Hello iced coffee that we don't offer but people demand anyway. Hello 30 minute ticket times and disgruntled customers. Welcome back.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
back back back
So, it finally let up, the rain that is. Tomorrow I have my last final at 11:45 and then I am spending the rest of the day packing, while our farewell dinner is around 5 pm. I've got this weird, uneasy feeling in me that has been sitting and lingering in my stomach, making me jittery and short of breath all day. I think it's the changes coming up. It's all approaching so quickly and it's all happening so abruptly. We take our last exams, and then we pack up and leave. My final complaint about IES is that I spent my last full week in Rome studying like crazy for my exams, and had hardly any time to enjoy the city leisurely. At the same time, I have made the best of it, and spent a lot of time with Cait and Liz, missing them already. Last night I went to my friend Lindsay's house and drank wine with some of the other girls and danced around their dining room to The Beatles.
I am going to miss the city, but I am also going to miss the people I've met here. It's interesting how you find people to love and get along with and share your thoughts with even after you pack up and move away from everything that is familiar. It's nice to be reminded of how many people there are in the world and how many of them you are likely to get along with. It's not so bad out there, really. You aren't alone. People are not menacing.
My new motto is: If you can do it in Rome, you can do it at home. For example, I plan on using public transportation in Bloomington whenever possible, as it can't come anywhere near the level of complication that is the Rome transit system. Also, if I can leave everyone I love behind for four months and rebound as quickly as I did, I feel like I could do almost anything. Although it's hard to judge without being completely removed from the situation yet, it's safe to assume that this trip has done wonders for my self esteem, my personal independence and my intellectuality. I feel stronger simply for being here and surviving it, no, enjoying it.
Not to mention I've come to value the passing of time, as it seems it has passed so quickly since I've been here, and I can't help but realize yet again that four months, one year, 100 years is nothing in the span of the universe. It's not so much that I value its fleeting existence, but instead it's the little moments that you can almost watch in frames move across the screen of your consciousness (because they are so meaningful and so individually fantastic), almost feel slipping effortlessly through your fingers despite your effort to stop time and savor them, that I have come to recognize and give thanks for. Time never stops and I always wake up, either from a deep slumber or a mental disconnection of sorts and wonder how I got to this moment and where yesterday went. I think this measuring of time and its momentum is important, because knowing that you are mortal makes every second potentially (if not inevitably) pertinent, relevant, precious.
I don't know. Another phase of my life has come and gone and I have to wait and see exactly what I've taken from it and what it has taken from me. Isn't it funny how we almost never know what right now means in the long run? Isn't it a little bit ironic that the best way to evaluate ourselves and interpret our state is not by the present, but by the decisions we've made in the past? We are in a perpetual state of playing catch up. And yet by this principle of action and consequence, the only way to really ensure the future is to be here and now. Easy. Easy and natural. Just living. And smiling. And breathing.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Earthquake
I just took two finals and I've been complaining about them all day. I have one more yet to come in a few hours, and life could be a whole lot worse.
It's raining here in Rome. The world is so big. Today I'm applying for a workshop in Houston this October for travel journalists. We'll see how it goes.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Naples rubbish
and then read
this.
It's not just because the dumps are full. It's a problem with roots far deeper than that. It's corruption and there has got to be a solution.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Saying goodbye. Ever so slowly.
Today is the first humid day of the season. It's just hot enough to be slightly uncomfortable if you're up and moving around. Up until now it's been sunny and warm, but breezy and satisfying. Luckily I won't be here much longer, so I'll avoid the soaring temperatures. But, it promises to be a hot summer in Bloomington, too.
These last few weeks have been weird ones. It's all starting to feel a bit nostalgic, and I'm starting to say my proper goodbye to the city that has housed me for four months. I'm walking more slowly, I'm trying to sense as much as possible. The trees outside our apartment smell like blooming flowers, and the sweetness is intoxicating. It penetrates every part of our home. Near school, the green lagoon that is the Tiber looks more and more beautiful the close I get to leaving. Knowing that I am leaving soon makes the city much more habitable, as I am no longer surviving it, I am enjoying it while I can.
I've been spending a lot of time with Cait and Liz, as usual. We went to dinner at Isadora on Thursday evening and made lemon chicken for dinner together last night. We cracked open a coconut in the middle of the hallway with whatever tools we could find, only to discover that it wasn't very fresh and therefore wasn't very tasty. After some nightly escapades of climbing the stairs and trying to find the roof, we settled for the little courtyard in the middle of our building that we'd never been in before. We laid in the middle of the square traced by our apartment complex and watched our little patch of sky pass over head. It was like a dream. A dimly lit, surreal, beautiful dream. This morning we woke up at 5 and watched the sun rise at the Colosseum. It was lovely and cool and quiet. The Colosseum will never be anything less than stunning in my eyes. It has a way of hypnotizing the viewer, especially when it's empty and still. I slept until 1 pm this afternoon, something I haven't done in a very long time. I just returned from the grocery where the old man at the meat, bread and cheese area kissed my hand and wished me a happy Sunday. It's Saturday, but I knew what he meant.
My roommate Liz really loves these puffy cheese balls. She eats them by the bag. We have all decided that they will come visit Indiana as soon as possible. Of course, we will try to travel to one another's homes, but Indiana is a good meeting point for the first reunion. I am so lucky to have been placed with such great roommates.
Stacy arrives on Friday, in less than a week. How exciting! I think finals should be easy if I put my nose to the grindstone and study as much as I need to. It will be really nice to have school off my back.
I discovered the pastry shop near our house. It could be the end of me. It's so delicious. The counters are lined with incredible little tarts and cream puffs and round wafers with bavarian cream and fruits on top. I bought my political science professor a mimosa cake to celebrate his graduation and his new title of "Dr. Toaldo". It was delicious. Liz and I stopped in on our way to the store today and bought a few yummy treats for a few euro.
Well anyway, I think that's a good update for now. I should go study. Italy really is beautiful, especially now, in the late spring, when the bees are buzzing and the birds sing and the air smells warm and sweet with flowers and green leaves.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Georgia
and I think you will too.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Update.
Caitlin, Jules and I went to the music festival in Piazza San Giovanni. It was really cool to look at but not as fun to attend if you weren't Italian. I couldn't understand any of the music and I was a little nervous about all the inebriated people, but it was fun to jump around and dance and listen to music on such a lovely day. We left after about an hour and spent the rest of the day relaxing at home. I am more than 3/4 of the way done with my paper. I'll finish it tomorrow.
I made a super spicy dinner. So spicy that I couldn't finish it. Caitlin and I watched "Can't Hardly Wait" and reminisced about high school. Now I am tired and ready for sleep and hopefully better dreams than last night.
A small update. More later concerning the Romans and their ways.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Coco fresco
The cost of fruit
Today Liz, Caitlin and I went to the beach. It was beautiful, sunny, not too hot. We managed to meet up with Laura and Elena, as well. The sand was hot on the soles of my feet. The water was cold. The breeze was salty. I went treasure hunting along the shore and left with a pocket full of clinking seashells. There is something so luring about the sea. I feel like all the grime is washed away when I wade into the salty blue water. The ebb and flow reminds me of the way it feels to be rocked to sleep by a loving mother, and there is very little so hypnotizing than the sound of the ocean meeting the shore.
I'm not sunburned, except for on my right shoulder. I noticed there were no seagulls, instead there were vendors, equally annoying. There were the usual men selling hats and jewelry, but there were also men selling coconut and beach blankets, and women offering a "nice oily massagi". No, No, and No. Thanks.
We're exhausted. The beach has a way of draining you, while leaving you completely rejuvenated at the same time. Tomorrow I think we'll head to the flea market and then perhaps a picnic with Becky and others. Last night we went to Mr. Brown's in Trestevere for awhile. The trip home left a bad taste in my mouth. We caught the N4 home, along with a bunch of overly intoxicated people, all of which looked as though they might possibly vomit all over the place at any moment. One man, perhaps 35, heavyset, got on and from across the bus was trying to get my attention by drunkenly grabbing my leg, touching my arm, groaning in Italian. The boys with us got defensive and decided it was their responsibility to be chivalrous by standing up to him. This did nothing but provoke him, and soon enough he was kicking and hitting the metal bars on the interior of the bus and becoming evermore aggressive. We got off the bus early, frustrated, and walked 20 minutes home, while the boys fed each others egos by saying things like, "We shoulda decked him. We woulda been justified. He would have gone down, man." I just wanted to get home.
So tonight we're staying in. I've learned my lesson about going out at night. Be home in time to take the metro.
In other news, I really love my roommates and I'm going to miss them a lot when we leave. Time has flown by. I can't believe we only have a month left of class.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Twenty second year.
Our Italian classes went on a "field study" to see a new production called "In The Food For Love" at a theater on Via Nationale. I was under the hopeful impression that we would be eating, but Becky popped that bubble for me over coffee after our last midterm and suggested I eat dinner. And it's a good thing I did, too, because if you saw "In The Food For Love," and you weren't hungry when you got there, you would be when you left. In general, it's a love story narrated by the chopping of vegetables and erratic musical performance. We watch as the main character and five others cook on a full kitchen while a live band plays hip tunes on the other side of the stage. The other five actors are not only that, they're acrobats. As the story unfolded and the smells of onions grilling wafted through the theater, jugglers tossed bowling pins high into the air with impressive accuracy. One woman swung from a trapeze, provoking gasps from the audience as she quickly, unpredictably fell ten feet only to catch herself gracefully, somehow untangled from the ropes and hanging comfortably from them as they swayed from side to side. The show was an overload on the senses. The music was never dull, the food smelled increasingly enticing, the visual entertainment was superb and all you wanted to do was eat eat eat. Being bored wasn't an option, and I left not only hungry, but satisfied and happy.
Unfortunately, my mood was spoiled by an alarming encounter with a homeless man on the 64, who took it upon himself to explain, in an unforeseen burst of anger, how much he hates US citizens because our cars are too big, we're all mafiosi, and we're all associated with Berlusconi (the center-right PM candidate in Italy's elections). This man was screaming so loudly in our faces that I could see the veins in his forehead bulging. He was so angry for no apparent reason and indeed, the way he snapped took us off guard. The names he was calling us were of the most offensive category. He continued to yell and complain for the entirety of the bus ride to Termini, kicking the doors closed at each stop, scaring the hell out of me and my friends, making everyone just a little bit too uncomfortable. We were glad to get off the bus and go home.
Friday was a lazy day for me. Liz and Caitlin went on a day trip, while I slept in and spent the day working on a project I had hoped to finish before Sunday. Instead, I talked to Spencer and headed over to Margi's house for dinner where we made tortellini and salad and drank wine, sharing in good conversation and good company.

Saturday night Liz and I celebrated our birthdays (hers is tomorrow, mine was Sunday) by going out with a bunch of friends for sushi. We got a big room downstairs. The wine was a dry red, which I've decided is my favorite kind. After dinner, like I knew they would, Liz and Caitlin attacked me with silly string. Every year, my mom sees to it. Sigh.

I finally finished my project, which I presented today and got compliments for. It's nice to be done with midterms, done with my presentation, and be able to think clearly without feeling a million obligations tugging at my brain.
The Italian elections were today and yesterday. They read the news of Berlusconi's lead like they're reading the weather. No change in expression, no sign of interest. They chew on the inside of their lip and turn the page. No surprise, as they change government so often. I would have voted for Veltroni and the Democratic Party, by the way.
Always missing home, but always adapting further.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Recycle.
Food for thought...
The cocoa puffs here taste really strange. They're not called Cocoa Puffs, either, but I don't remember their official title. I took a big swig of milk that had gone bad yesterday and by some miracle managed not to gag and spit it all over Caitlin. Now I'm out of milk and decent cereal, but who wants to go grocery shopping? The Italians are slow, as it is. Imagine being in a small aisle with seven of them, all pulling their little rolling shopping baskets.
I got a great package in the mail from my mom today. Included were two types of excellent tea, a few candles, and some appropriate Gerber products. Happy Birthday to me! Only, my moment was ruined when another girl walked into my Italian class with a box twice the size of mine, filled to the brim with all the food you would find in a fully equipped pantry, goldfish and jelly included. Oh well. It's still almost my birthday, and my 21st at that. Bam.
Speaking of, I'm not sure what the plans are, but I know there will be some for our birthdays. I say "ours" because Liz's is two days after mine. So, we'll probably do sushi and head over to Campo de Fiori, the closest thing we'll get to an American 21st birthday celebration. This week is also Little 500 at home. What a great weekend it would be if I were there. Actually, I'd probably be working. Nevermind.
I do miss work though. Strangely enough. I had a dream last night that I was serving table 15 through 19 and kept getting double sat, which really shouldn't have been an issue, but I couldn't seem to remember the necessary skills I needed to properly serve the customers. I was frazzled, overwhelmed, forgetting drinks and how to abbreviate things legibly. I could feel them all glaring at me with disdain. They just wanted their damn coffee.
I got a letter from Chris yesterday. Delight!
So it's Spring (La Primavera) here and the trees are green and these incredible purple flowers are hanging on vines off of buildings. They're so beautiful, I want to eat them.
I'm really just putting off studying any longer, so I will get back to it. But I could really go for...say, a Snickers.
Recycle.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Stay on Target.
The same vendors (I'm convinced there are only five of them and they've all learned to teleport) were in Florence today. No thanks, we already have a leopard print umbrella and a nice rain repellent jacket to get us through this drizzle. We can always duck into the Baptistry, or perhaps the Duomo, where the floors are "slick as snot," as my Grandma so eloquently put it, and the ceiling is bare and all the better for it. It is rumored between the three of us that Michaelangelo is somewhere in this church, but we can't find him, and we are in a hurry to get to the train station, so we head back into the rain, but not before listening to a choir sing an unannounced solemn hymn before being shooed away by the security guards. What a shame. It was so beautiful.
Earlier in the day we waited in line for over an hour to see Michaelangelo's David. I made a trip to McDonald's for sinful French fries and a fragola (strawberry) milkshake. It was crowded. The mess of people mingling between one another and pushing against me, plus the clamor of cars and motorcycles trying to drive through already over crowded streets was enough to make me grit my teeth in angst. But upon entering the room where the David is kept, all the stress was gone with my breath as I caught site of the one thing that will never cease to make me stop dead in my tracks. He stands above everyone, placed high upon his pedestal but never appearing abrasive or overbearing, as he is so gently composed. His stance is relaxed and his stare soft but concentrated (the iris of his eyes are in the shape of hearts). One can't help but notice the incredible detail found on the back of his hands and the tops of his feet (both of which are too big for the body). The slightest hint of veins can be seen among the bones and muscles, each softly shadowed in the marble by the glowing lights above him. He is so real, he seems to breathe. None of us really know what he is thinking, but we pretend to.
Dinner at the Wild Boar left us with full stomachs. Getting there was my favorite part, though, following Grandma, our tour guide for the day, with Dad by my side. "The target is moving!" he says playfully, "Stay on target...stay on target..." I respond. It's an inside joke we've developed in reference to Star Wars. We've got a lot of those, I've discovered. The streets of Florence are adorable, and I'd like to go back for a long weekend on my own, I think. Although, I'm not sure it's as enjoyable without loved ones. The bridge that crosses the river offers incredible views of the rolling hills in the distance and the brightly colored, Oh-So-Italian buildings, one right after the other. I'd like to sit on that bridge at sunrise and not be bothered by a single soul.
One giant purple scarf and an unbelievably high priced Belgian waffle with Nutella later, we're back on the train, all tired but laughing until we cry about old Seinfeld episodes we've all seen while the Italians around us no doubt wonder what there is to be so happy about. Eventually we all close our eyes and dose in and out of sleep, frequently woken up by the pressure change that leaves our ears plugged as we speed through tunnels. We are all yawning and I am complaining.
We part ways for the evening. We'll meet tomorrow and explore the ancient parts of Rome, many of which I've seen but will enjoy once again. I have the apartment to myself tonight and it's so quiet. I can hear the family above me shuffling, moving chairs, even sneezing. There seems to be a child in the building with one of those wooden toys that makes a train sound when you blow into it. It goes off every twenty minutes or so. So, I suppose that's what I'll fall asleep to tonight... the neighbors, the rain, and the memories I've got in my head of the day's events which I hope to keep with me forever.
Monday, March 17, 2008
A surprise visit.
The thing he put down on the table in front of me was an old picture of the two of us that I sent him a while ago with a sticky note attached that said, "Missing you! Love, Jess." Next to it he had put today's date and written, "Me too. Love, Dad."
It's been such a nice day ever since then. I walked them to their hotel, which is incredible. I'm gonna have to be spending a lot of time there considering the view and the bath tub. Dad's staying until we leave for Vienna on Monday and I think it's going to be a really fun week.
It's a downer to have school all day tomorrow, but I'm meeting them between classes at Castel Sant'Angelo.
It feels different after seeing my family. I feel like this place is a little more like home. I feel a little more settled in. But it also makes me miss home a lot more. As Spencer said, "it's just a snack to hold you over until dinner."
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Trying.
Melting Glaciers
Feeling a little low today. I guess the headlines I read when I wake up set the tone for the rest of my day. There is so much bad news. Everywhere. I love reading the news because it makes me feel informed, but it also has a tendency to make me very sad. I remember, on a daily basis, my own insignificance. I can't help but wonder if anything I could do would make a difference. I've decided that the best way to look at life, at least for me, is without a belief that you are guided. I spend too much time looking for the meaning in things, the truth, what's real. When you stop believing that everything is significant, you start seeing things in a more objective way. I feel my senses are heightened when I change my perspective like this. At the same time, the idea of being guided has always given me hope. Giving that up means accepting that I have no meaning in the grand scheme of things, and that my life is disposable.
But I read somewhere that true happiness is had when all hope is gone.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
A tightrope.

Extreme
"It was at times like this, full of calm and terror, Potter said, that he felt most connected to himself and his surroundings."
On that note. Found the Colosseum tonight. Went completely the wrong way for Indian food. Found it, though, and then realized we could have easily walked there instead of taking the metro in a big circle. Had amazing canella and fiori di leche gelato. And today, the weather was stunning. I was happy as a lark.
We saw the Forum again today, but we were up close and personal this time. Our tickets are good until tomorrow so I think we'll go IN to the Colosseum, because we haven't done that yet. The Forum itself is of course, beautiful. Sometimes I wish I wasn't here with a bunch of tourists. It's hard to see past the tourist atmosphere and get a real, clear image of the monument in front of you. The aura still shines through, but I have to look a little harder and remove myself from where I am in order to really feel it.
My feet are sore from walking. I'm really missing home tonight. I'm missing wide open spaces. I'm missing the mountains of Colorado and the plains of Kansas.
On a less happy note, the trash here makes me hate my need for consumption.
I think I'll head to bed. Tomorrow I don't have class. This weekend is lay low weekend and Monday is when Grandma visits. So, I have a lot to look forward to.
Spring is in full bloom here. I am always trying to savor the moment, worried I'll let it slip away without tasting it. At the same time, I am always missing home. Bittersweet.