Sure, sure sure- I've called Michael JacksonWacko Jacko and once witnessed him running through a casino while at work, and I still stand by my impression that he was, indeed, ::ahem:: a tad bizarre. I won't deny or take back any jokes made at his expense, eventhough it feels a bit sacriligeus to mock the dead.
Still, I do feel a tremendous amount of sympathy for the man. I did, yes, click on his memorial service highlight reel on CNN and was touched by his daughter's brief words to her daddy, but there is something in the way "Aunty Janet" moves the microphone and urges her "speak louder" that I struggle with.
Michael Jackson is, was, will ever be the ultimate product for public consumption. Since the age of 5, he was packaged, marketed and owned. He was his father's pawn, and Pepsi's pawn, and the media's pawn. At every turn, he was denied his humanity. His image from a young age corrected and groomed, until he did his best to destroy it. His self-destruction was not unlike an anorexic who tries to claim control over her own body through extreme asceticism. Addicted to painkillers? I can only imagine the amount of pain he tried to kill. To see his daughter express her intense grief only to be corrected, demonstrates to me that her humanity is also up for consumption.
I think his craziness was a result of him trying to reclaim some of his humanity, something that is still denied him in death. The people that chased him to his ultimate demise are the ones who now chase his corpse and insist on 24/7 coverage of his absence.
I think he really tried to escape his marketed veneer. The revelations of his struggle with addiction call to mind his song "Man in the Mirror." Now here's a true confession- there have been a few times in my life when that song, as cheesy as it may be, has moved me. Yeah, I said it. A few times. Maybe his intentions with that song were more sincere than we assumed, and it's tragic that despite his great fame and (once) great wealth, he couldn't conquer the demons within.
And with that, I sincerely hope the man can finally, and completely, rest in peace.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Missing blogging
I've been missing blogging lately.
I've missed reading all the updated posts and random stories that people have posted.
I've also reflected on why I stopped blogging when I love to write. I haven't come up with any particular answer. It took me a moment to realize that I've been a bit depressed lately at the "big picture" of my life. I have plenty to be grateful for; I am truly lucky in so many ways, but something isn't right. I wish I could say I wasn't a person defined by work, but it saddens me that, as much as I love teaching, I'm doing the same part-time job, in the same location, for almost the same pay, that I was doing 7 years ago. I know I can offer so much more. I feel as though I'm rotting.
When I measure who I am against who I wanted/want to be, I feel this sinking sensation. I am not happy. I look at my peers- intelligent and professional, people who are doing "important" things with their lives. It occurs to me that I want to make an impact and feel "important" too. I currently feel very superfluous and stagnant...like an infected appendix.
Ok, maybe that was a bit over dramatic, but hints of depression are becoming harder and harder to brush aside.
My current focus should be trying to find the path back to being a person I am satisfied with. I feel a bit paralyzed, not trusting what the next step is. I feel I'm a bundle of potential energy- I want so much to let it loose and dive into something, but I don't know where to direct it. So I'm hoping that getting back in the blogging routine will loosen my creative energy, and I will know what it is I should be doing.
I've missed reading all the updated posts and random stories that people have posted.
I've also reflected on why I stopped blogging when I love to write. I haven't come up with any particular answer. It took me a moment to realize that I've been a bit depressed lately at the "big picture" of my life. I have plenty to be grateful for; I am truly lucky in so many ways, but something isn't right. I wish I could say I wasn't a person defined by work, but it saddens me that, as much as I love teaching, I'm doing the same part-time job, in the same location, for almost the same pay, that I was doing 7 years ago. I know I can offer so much more. I feel as though I'm rotting.
When I measure who I am against who I wanted/want to be, I feel this sinking sensation. I am not happy. I look at my peers- intelligent and professional, people who are doing "important" things with their lives. It occurs to me that I want to make an impact and feel "important" too. I currently feel very superfluous and stagnant...like an infected appendix.
Ok, maybe that was a bit over dramatic, but hints of depression are becoming harder and harder to brush aside.
My current focus should be trying to find the path back to being a person I am satisfied with. I feel a bit paralyzed, not trusting what the next step is. I feel I'm a bundle of potential energy- I want so much to let it loose and dive into something, but I don't know where to direct it. So I'm hoping that getting back in the blogging routine will loosen my creative energy, and I will know what it is I should be doing.
Monday, May 04, 2009
David Sedaris
Last night, Kevin and I saw David Sedaris.
I've been a fan of his for a number of years, following him on "This American Life" and reading a number of his books. He has the style of self-depreciating humor that makes you feel as you read that he is one of "us." He could be your good friend, co-worker, or neighbor. His narrative has such candor that you cannot help but believe that after reading, you've gotten to know him a little more intimately than you might another author.
Seeing him read live did nothing to dispel this mythological image. He was down-to-earth and routinely spoke about how much he loved meeting people on book tours, but in doing so, he also turned these encounters into hilarious stories.
So you can see, meeting David Sedaris was quite stressful for me. I already felt some pressure to be my most witty and unique, some one he would remember, some one who could appear in a short story which started in Las Vegas but through a series of digressions ended up recounting the career of a Parisian organ grinding monkey.
I was doomed from the get-go. Kevin and I bolted from the theater only to find a mob of people already surrounding the still empty signing table. We managed to find the end of the line, and given Sedaris's propensity for small talk with each fan, we soon understood the wait would be longer than anticipated.
We waited an hour and a half near the end of the line. I would have left after 40 minutes, but Kevin, embittered by the fact that we'd already waited 40 minutes, insisted we stay. As we approached the table, we could hear the conversations ahead of us.
The first was a young man who worked as a Casino Host for VIPs. Sedaris was fascinated, asking strange questions about the intriguing job, "Do you wear a suit?" The woman in front of me was a Bellydancer/Magician's assistant. Was this line also full of showgirls and prostitutes? How many more interesting people had he met? I remember when I worked for the Peace Corps I was told that Vegas was infamous for strange jobs. "What the hell is a Epicurean Charmer," I was asked, as if they taught this shit in High School. I considered lying to Sedaris, saying I was an Epicurean Charmer. I'd make it up. I prepared some answers in my head. I anticipated what he might ask.
At our turn, I approached the table and asked how he was. He looked a bit tired, but still positive. "Fine." I could saying anything.
"What's your name?"
"Shannon."
"Gemini?"
I just stared. I was exhausted. It was close to midnight.
"No Aquarius."
A sly smirk.
"Cat?"
"NO dog. 72 pounds."
"What kind?"
"Plott Hound"
"Oh,I've never heard of that."
I was about to launch into the entire history of the breed, but I stopped myself upon realizing that it would make me look like a complete idiot and my self-confidence was quickly withering.
Over all, he was extremely pleasant, but I felt like a total jackass. He spoke to Kevin and I about our honeymoon in Hawaii. He wrote in our book "Your story touched my Heart," which I took as sarcastic (but in a good way) and chuckled at later. His stories are so often filled with moments where he describes such human awkwardness. I guess it was appropriate.
I've been a fan of his for a number of years, following him on "This American Life" and reading a number of his books. He has the style of self-depreciating humor that makes you feel as you read that he is one of "us." He could be your good friend, co-worker, or neighbor. His narrative has such candor that you cannot help but believe that after reading, you've gotten to know him a little more intimately than you might another author.
Seeing him read live did nothing to dispel this mythological image. He was down-to-earth and routinely spoke about how much he loved meeting people on book tours, but in doing so, he also turned these encounters into hilarious stories.
So you can see, meeting David Sedaris was quite stressful for me. I already felt some pressure to be my most witty and unique, some one he would remember, some one who could appear in a short story which started in Las Vegas but through a series of digressions ended up recounting the career of a Parisian organ grinding monkey.
I was doomed from the get-go. Kevin and I bolted from the theater only to find a mob of people already surrounding the still empty signing table. We managed to find the end of the line, and given Sedaris's propensity for small talk with each fan, we soon understood the wait would be longer than anticipated.
We waited an hour and a half near the end of the line. I would have left after 40 minutes, but Kevin, embittered by the fact that we'd already waited 40 minutes, insisted we stay. As we approached the table, we could hear the conversations ahead of us.
The first was a young man who worked as a Casino Host for VIPs. Sedaris was fascinated, asking strange questions about the intriguing job, "Do you wear a suit?" The woman in front of me was a Bellydancer/Magician's assistant. Was this line also full of showgirls and prostitutes? How many more interesting people had he met? I remember when I worked for the Peace Corps I was told that Vegas was infamous for strange jobs. "What the hell is a Epicurean Charmer," I was asked, as if they taught this shit in High School. I considered lying to Sedaris, saying I was an Epicurean Charmer. I'd make it up. I prepared some answers in my head. I anticipated what he might ask.
At our turn, I approached the table and asked how he was. He looked a bit tired, but still positive. "Fine." I could saying anything.
"What's your name?"
"Shannon."
"Gemini?"
I just stared. I was exhausted. It was close to midnight.
"No Aquarius."
A sly smirk.
"Cat?"
"NO dog. 72 pounds."
"What kind?"
"Plott Hound"
"Oh,I've never heard of that."
I was about to launch into the entire history of the breed, but I stopped myself upon realizing that it would make me look like a complete idiot and my self-confidence was quickly withering.
Over all, he was extremely pleasant, but I felt like a total jackass. He spoke to Kevin and I about our honeymoon in Hawaii. He wrote in our book "Your story touched my Heart," which I took as sarcastic (but in a good way) and chuckled at later. His stories are so often filled with moments where he describes such human awkwardness. I guess it was appropriate.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Blogger's block
I've had a severe case of blogger's block as evidenced by my lack of posting. This is exacerbated by facebook where I can link to whatever stupid little article I find about the non-human form of parasites I possibly encounter on a daily basis.
If anyone is even still reading, they may be wondering what I've been up to. Well...some of it is secret. The work situation has ameliorated a bit, and opportunities have appeared on the horizon. Of course, every other laid off corporate trainer is also attacking the same jobs. We'll see how well I can compete.
In the meantime, I have registered for some graduate classes FINALLY. You may be surprised to find out that I'm indeed depressed by only working part time in a job that offers no challenge or room for growth (as evidenced by the recent imbroglio that has been my "work situation"). Alas, this is the push I need to face the nagging regret that I never went to graduate school. Educational Leadership it is folks. I've even began studying for the GRE. I can take classes without being admitted, but I need to the GRE in order to apply.
The GRE books reminded me that getting angry at having to take the test or the sadistic assholes (and I don't use that word lightly) who created it will not help me pass. This is invaluable advice. It only mildly helped when I tackled the "Quantitative" section, a humbling experience for someone who passed Calculus with a decent score, albeit 14 years ago.
You know you've been out of school too long when you wonder why "I don't care" is not an option.
I will leave you with an anecdote from the classroom featuring both of the talented Korean students I've previously written about.
Student A: "What does Abandonment mean?"
Teacher, aka ME: "It means when you leave someone. For example, if someone has a baby and leaves it in a public place, like a restroom."
Student A: "Oh, like with dogs too!"
ME: "Yes, exactly, people also abandon dogs."
Student B: (smirking) "We don't have that problem in Korea. We just eat the dogs."
Student B and A: RIOTOUS LAUGHTER
ME: (practically snorting coffee through nose)
It should be noted that Student B had intended this as a joke. Turns out he had tried dog before, but Student A hadn't.
Dog- not a common dish in Korea. This joke- not so politically correct, but funny as hell.
If anyone is even still reading, they may be wondering what I've been up to. Well...some of it is secret. The work situation has ameliorated a bit, and opportunities have appeared on the horizon. Of course, every other laid off corporate trainer is also attacking the same jobs. We'll see how well I can compete.
In the meantime, I have registered for some graduate classes FINALLY. You may be surprised to find out that I'm indeed depressed by only working part time in a job that offers no challenge or room for growth (as evidenced by the recent imbroglio that has been my "work situation"). Alas, this is the push I need to face the nagging regret that I never went to graduate school. Educational Leadership it is folks. I've even began studying for the GRE. I can take classes without being admitted, but I need to the GRE in order to apply.
The GRE books reminded me that getting angry at having to take the test or the sadistic assholes (and I don't use that word lightly) who created it will not help me pass. This is invaluable advice. It only mildly helped when I tackled the "Quantitative" section, a humbling experience for someone who passed Calculus with a decent score, albeit 14 years ago.
You know you've been out of school too long when you wonder why "I don't care" is not an option.
I will leave you with an anecdote from the classroom featuring both of the talented Korean students I've previously written about.
Student A: "What does Abandonment mean?"
Teacher, aka ME: "It means when you leave someone. For example, if someone has a baby and leaves it in a public place, like a restroom."
Student A: "Oh, like with dogs too!"
ME: "Yes, exactly, people also abandon dogs."
Student B: (smirking) "We don't have that problem in Korea. We just eat the dogs."
Student B and A: RIOTOUS LAUGHTER
ME: (practically snorting coffee through nose)
It should be noted that Student B had intended this as a joke. Turns out he had tried dog before, but Student A hadn't.
Dog- not a common dish in Korea. This joke- not so politically correct, but funny as hell.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Noli sinere te ab improbis opprimi
This was the good advice given by a colleague this week. It translates as "Don't let the bastards get you down."
I haven't done so well following the advice.
I'm in quite a pickle, readership. I busted my ass for two months in a job that my boss lied about considering me for. In essence, that's it. In return for my effort, I apparently was accused of sabotage.
I guess I shouldn't be putting this on the internet, and perhaps this will come down in the near future, but for tonight, I will leave it be.
I have never in my life harbored so much anger. It sits in me like a rock in my gut, a rock I cannot shake no matter how much I try to dance, sing it, or scream it out. The bastards are winning and taking a toll on my mental health. It has been slowly creeping into every aspect of my life, and now, I wake up in the morning to its burning tug in my stomach.
At every turn, I haven't been able to let it go. I wind up in another situation that involves me...and lies...and injustice...and what seems to be the most unfair thing in this shitty economy- that those with no integrity continue to operate without reproach.
I haven't done so well following the advice.
I'm in quite a pickle, readership. I busted my ass for two months in a job that my boss lied about considering me for. In essence, that's it. In return for my effort, I apparently was accused of sabotage.
I guess I shouldn't be putting this on the internet, and perhaps this will come down in the near future, but for tonight, I will leave it be.
I have never in my life harbored so much anger. It sits in me like a rock in my gut, a rock I cannot shake no matter how much I try to dance, sing it, or scream it out. The bastards are winning and taking a toll on my mental health. It has been slowly creeping into every aspect of my life, and now, I wake up in the morning to its burning tug in my stomach.
At every turn, I haven't been able to let it go. I wind up in another situation that involves me...and lies...and injustice...and what seems to be the most unfair thing in this shitty economy- that those with no integrity continue to operate without reproach.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Funk
I get angry...very, very angry.
Very easily.
I used to think I had the grace to keep it to myself, but lately, it's been boiling over. I've wondered if it is not better to revert to the apologetic girl who felt bad every time a bitchy attitude emerged. Then, I question that impulse.
When is anger bad?
When is it good?
And when is it simply alright to want revenge?
Very easily.
I used to think I had the grace to keep it to myself, but lately, it's been boiling over. I've wondered if it is not better to revert to the apologetic girl who felt bad every time a bitchy attitude emerged. Then, I question that impulse.
When is anger bad?
When is it good?
And when is it simply alright to want revenge?
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
A lighthearted bit of funny
All that is new is the same ol' irriation. Those of you who caught my now deleted rant about those with power but without accountability, will know about what I speak. Those who have no idea what the hell that sentence just meant, let's discuss this over a nice red wine, shall we?
However, the fun-loving Shannon appeared briefly this week and at work no less!! I've been teaching an intermediate class of two, young Korean guys. It was quite a surprise that I'd be teaching this class. In addition to cramming 40 hours of work into 20 hours per week, I'm teaching 20 hours. It's quite exhausing.
My students are great, though. They're intelligent and hardworking, but they're also amusing. Every single grammar point has been illustrated using the topic of girls. I know which girls the guys have crushes on. I know their preference in women. One student even wrote an essay explaining the differences between Japanese and Korean girls. My favorite still was when we were practicing vocabulary, and I asked them to make a list of things they should "Stop doing" in order to get a girl friend.
"We should stop playing Starcraft."
Wise beyond their years, these guys.
As amusing as their girl-craziness is, one comment on the instructor survey (the one where they grade me!) has me tickled this week. I admit to looking after compiling all the surveys for the school.
"Salmon is a great teacher."
Salmon!! I can't correct this outright since they'll know I read the surveys. However, I wonder if they think it's strange that I have a fish's name. Do they refer to me as "Fish teacher?" Dunno. I find it absolutely hilarious!
However, the fun-loving Shannon appeared briefly this week and at work no less!! I've been teaching an intermediate class of two, young Korean guys. It was quite a surprise that I'd be teaching this class. In addition to cramming 40 hours of work into 20 hours per week, I'm teaching 20 hours. It's quite exhausing.
My students are great, though. They're intelligent and hardworking, but they're also amusing. Every single grammar point has been illustrated using the topic of girls. I know which girls the guys have crushes on. I know their preference in women. One student even wrote an essay explaining the differences between Japanese and Korean girls. My favorite still was when we were practicing vocabulary, and I asked them to make a list of things they should "Stop doing" in order to get a girl friend.
"We should stop playing Starcraft."
Wise beyond their years, these guys.
As amusing as their girl-craziness is, one comment on the instructor survey (the one where they grade me!) has me tickled this week. I admit to looking after compiling all the surveys for the school.
"Salmon is a great teacher."
Salmon!! I can't correct this outright since they'll know I read the surveys. However, I wonder if they think it's strange that I have a fish's name. Do they refer to me as "Fish teacher?" Dunno. I find it absolutely hilarious!
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