This was not my original blog idea, but I couldn't help writing this out as I was reading through applicants' forms to obtain a scholarship: People do not know how to write.
I am not saying that no one can make mistakes; everyone does, myself included. But how can you write a 4-page essay (the instructions clearly said one-page, 850 words max.) without reading it over? Or how can you read it over and not notice that -
- you spelled course "coarse". Twice.
- there is no verb in your "sentence".
- a question requires a question mark. Otherwise it's nothing, really, except a poorly constructed sentence.
- When you cite people, or books, say what or who they are. You can't say "bla bla blah" (John Coarvuzi) and expect people to know who that person is. Or "something or other using I to speak about yourself even though you're clearly not the one talking, because why would you quote yourself in your own essay?" (Johnson). Who the hell is Johnson?!
-If you say something like "taking care of him while his health discengrated slower and then quicker than a fly dies. it let me realize life prescious", maybe you should think about the fact that most people don't know how long it takes for a fly to die. I know I don't.
It just really bothers me that so many people can't write. I come accross this sometimes when I copy edit for my school newspaper, and often wonder why we let these people write for a publication. Or simply how the authors themselves aren't able to proof-read what they write.
Now let me just make sure I didn't make horrible grammar mistakes in this post.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Decisions, decisions
Life is full of choices that require decision-making. Thus, we find ourselves constantly making decisions, many of them benign but occasionally they require more thought and have more implications. We have become so accustomed to this decision-making process that we don't even notice it most of the time. Should I jaywalk? What bag should I take today? Small or Medium fries? What train car am I going in?
Then, of course, come the more significant decisions. Should I quit my job? What classes should I take? Do I really want to get married? What career do I want? Some of these decisions are life-changing, yet they are imposed on us when we are young. How are we to know what career we want? I remember the process I had to go through when came the time to apply to college. The first step in determining what schools to apply to was to decide what major I wanted to take, hence implying the ever-important question: what do I want to do with my life?
This choice, and the decision that comes with it, is thrown at kids when they are still in high school. How are we supposed to know what we want to do for the rest of our lives, when we have barely started living it? When you are 18, there are other things on your mind, such as boys (or girls, depending on who we're talking about), parties, graduation, fashion, school (in some cases)... But very few people know for sure what they want to do for the remaining 70 years of their lives, roughly. And how should they? To that point in life, we have been exposed to very few things. We take basic classes in school - English, Math, History, Religion. And then we are expected to magically know what to do.
This, added on to the way society works, leads many people to study some field or other in Business. Why? Simple - the money is good. We are pressured in making decisions that will impact the rest of our lives, and with lack of better option opt for the money. Then people are unhappy and life is shite.
Every decision we make affects our life in some way, from crossing the street to choosing a subway car. Those decisions don't make much difference, but we have to be careful when it comes to more important decisions like accepting a random job, or later quitting it.
Then, of course, come the more significant decisions. Should I quit my job? What classes should I take? Do I really want to get married? What career do I want? Some of these decisions are life-changing, yet they are imposed on us when we are young. How are we to know what career we want? I remember the process I had to go through when came the time to apply to college. The first step in determining what schools to apply to was to decide what major I wanted to take, hence implying the ever-important question: what do I want to do with my life?
This choice, and the decision that comes with it, is thrown at kids when they are still in high school. How are we supposed to know what we want to do for the rest of our lives, when we have barely started living it? When you are 18, there are other things on your mind, such as boys (or girls, depending on who we're talking about), parties, graduation, fashion, school (in some cases)... But very few people know for sure what they want to do for the remaining 70 years of their lives, roughly. And how should they? To that point in life, we have been exposed to very few things. We take basic classes in school - English, Math, History, Religion. And then we are expected to magically know what to do.
This, added on to the way society works, leads many people to study some field or other in Business. Why? Simple - the money is good. We are pressured in making decisions that will impact the rest of our lives, and with lack of better option opt for the money. Then people are unhappy and life is shite.
Every decision we make affects our life in some way, from crossing the street to choosing a subway car. Those decisions don't make much difference, but we have to be careful when it comes to more important decisions like accepting a random job, or later quitting it.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Giving a whole new meaning to "Staying zipped up"
I'm starting to find it hard to blog at work, as I dread one of my bosses, commonly known (to me) as SB for Scary Boss. Though she really gives me no work to do, I don't have an office and my back is to the hallway, so anyone who passes by can see what is on my screen (rarely work).
But this is too good not to share. (Incidentally SB just came by as I wrote this. I tried to subtly change the window...) So recently the company I work for had some jerseys done for a bike tour coming up in the fall. One of my young coworkers just received his today by mail, so he came in to see us obviously excited. The jersey is white and, on its front, has the red silhouette of a biker holding his bike up in the air. When he showed three of us the jersey, one of the girls sitting near me cleverly noticed that the zipper ended at a very stragetic place on the man's body.
So the guy wearing the jersey said "oh, it's event worse when you unzip it" before actually unzipping it and having the zipper thing (a white, drop-shapped thing) land right in that strategic place (for the slow ones out there, it was right in the drawing's crotch). We all died laughing, and as the jersey-wearer went around the office, distinct laughter was heard along his trail.
Good times, and Happy Friday!
But this is too good not to share. (Incidentally SB just came by as I wrote this. I tried to subtly change the window...) So recently the company I work for had some jerseys done for a bike tour coming up in the fall. One of my young coworkers just received his today by mail, so he came in to see us obviously excited. The jersey is white and, on its front, has the red silhouette of a biker holding his bike up in the air. When he showed three of us the jersey, one of the girls sitting near me cleverly noticed that the zipper ended at a very stragetic place on the man's body.
So the guy wearing the jersey said "oh, it's event worse when you unzip it" before actually unzipping it and having the zipper thing (a white, drop-shapped thing) land right in that strategic place (for the slow ones out there, it was right in the drawing's crotch). We all died laughing, and as the jersey-wearer went around the office, distinct laughter was heard along his trail.
Good times, and Happy Friday!
Monday, July 2, 2007
It must be weird being a baby.
The thought occurred to me the other day when I was walking with my mom and we passed by a baby in a stroller (and his mom, he wasn't just sitting there). The moment we walked by him, my mom started cooing and making faces at him, just like anyone would do. The baby smiled, but I think he was just being a diva who is used to all the attention.
Think about it.
Babies get carried around everywhere, either in a stroller or in litttle pouches on a parent's stomach (that has to be super awkward. I know I couldn't do it...be in the baby's position i mean) so they basically see the world pass them by without doing anything. And they are instant stars. It doesn't matter where they are whisked off to: the grocery store, the park, church, the overcrowded trains... they always manage to be the center of attention. People stare, coo, make faces, make all kinds of gestures, point and whisper... All they have to do is react. Most of the time they laugh, but sometimes they look away (in which case the adult goes "aww! i scared him!!" in a little voice, laughing) or the extreme divas start crying (in which case the adult usually looks away and pretends nothing happened).
It has to be annoying, not being able to go anywhere without getting all that attention. Pretty soon they're going to start ignoring us big people who walk on our own. Actually, that's what todlers do. I think babies are actually smarter than we are: they know how much fun we have "entertaining" them so they react to make us happy. But in fact they are really annoyed at us. I mean it's a theory, and it kept me busy on the train.
I also wonder what it feels like to be a pigeon...
The thought occurred to me the other day when I was walking with my mom and we passed by a baby in a stroller (and his mom, he wasn't just sitting there). The moment we walked by him, my mom started cooing and making faces at him, just like anyone would do. The baby smiled, but I think he was just being a diva who is used to all the attention.
Think about it.
Babies get carried around everywhere, either in a stroller or in litttle pouches on a parent's stomach (that has to be super awkward. I know I couldn't do it...be in the baby's position i mean) so they basically see the world pass them by without doing anything. And they are instant stars. It doesn't matter where they are whisked off to: the grocery store, the park, church, the overcrowded trains... they always manage to be the center of attention. People stare, coo, make faces, make all kinds of gestures, point and whisper... All they have to do is react. Most of the time they laugh, but sometimes they look away (in which case the adult goes "aww! i scared him!!" in a little voice, laughing) or the extreme divas start crying (in which case the adult usually looks away and pretends nothing happened).
It has to be annoying, not being able to go anywhere without getting all that attention. Pretty soon they're going to start ignoring us big people who walk on our own. Actually, that's what todlers do. I think babies are actually smarter than we are: they know how much fun we have "entertaining" them so they react to make us happy. But in fact they are really annoyed at us. I mean it's a theory, and it kept me busy on the train.
I also wonder what it feels like to be a pigeon...
Friday, June 29, 2007
Happy Friday!
Wow, have i really not blogged all week? that's not good... let me get back into it by sharing some random occurences of the day -
As I was making my way to the train this morning, I saw three Mexican guys walking. There was one first, then two a little bit behind him who were walking together. I am not being racist or anything, but seeing them is weird: I think I have seen them every single morning for the past 2 months. When I was walking to school, I would see them at different points on my route, depending on whether I overslept or not, and now that I have work I see them at pretty much the same place every day. And they're always walking in the same way. It makes me think of the Truman show (with Jim Carey, first movie I saw in English) and I start obvserving my surroundings more attentively. It keeps me entertained for a little bit!
When I went to lunch, a friend and I were walking the streets of Manhattan, and a few blocks after almost being run over by a few bikes (I swear those crazy people will be the end of me) we came by one of the rare phone booths still standing amongst us after the cell phone frenzy that took over the world. That's when we noticed a young asian man (what's up with the racial comment today you ask? I really don't know) clutching the phone to his ear, squatting down on the ground and being overly dramatic. I couldn't help but point as we passed by, and when we turned around after he had started rocking on the balls of his feet. I'm convinced that had we been closer, we would have heard him weep.
Finally, I have to make a comment about this: the iPhone craze is ridiculous. I saw lines and lines of people lined up in front of various at&t stores today, and I had to smile to myself. But at least they all looked happy, excited and content with themselves, so I held back any comments. Then I reminded myself that I would probably do the same for, say, Spice Girls reunion tour tickets?
Oh yes. They're back. Joy!
As I was making my way to the train this morning, I saw three Mexican guys walking. There was one first, then two a little bit behind him who were walking together. I am not being racist or anything, but seeing them is weird: I think I have seen them every single morning for the past 2 months. When I was walking to school, I would see them at different points on my route, depending on whether I overslept or not, and now that I have work I see them at pretty much the same place every day. And they're always walking in the same way. It makes me think of the Truman show (with Jim Carey, first movie I saw in English) and I start obvserving my surroundings more attentively. It keeps me entertained for a little bit!
When I went to lunch, a friend and I were walking the streets of Manhattan, and a few blocks after almost being run over by a few bikes (I swear those crazy people will be the end of me) we came by one of the rare phone booths still standing amongst us after the cell phone frenzy that took over the world. That's when we noticed a young asian man (what's up with the racial comment today you ask? I really don't know) clutching the phone to his ear, squatting down on the ground and being overly dramatic. I couldn't help but point as we passed by, and when we turned around after he had started rocking on the balls of his feet. I'm convinced that had we been closer, we would have heard him weep.
Finally, I have to make a comment about this: the iPhone craze is ridiculous. I saw lines and lines of people lined up in front of various at&t stores today, and I had to smile to myself. But at least they all looked happy, excited and content with themselves, so I held back any comments. Then I reminded myself that I would probably do the same for, say, Spice Girls reunion tour tickets?
Oh yes. They're back. Joy!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Please hold...
"Please hold while I transfer your call!!"
That has to be one of the most irritating combination of words, usually heard when one calls a major company in dire need of some crucial information.
I am sitting here in such a situation and it just dawned upon me that the "soothing", "enjoyable" music is anything but that. I have been listening to an up-beat jazzy tune for the past 10 minutes, and it has been driving me nuts. And somehow, the occasional interruption that announces that "Your call is important to us, and will be answered shortly. While you wait, why not go on out website and buy things?" do not convince me that someone will be helping me "soon!".
As I sit here patiently I ponder if there are really that many people all calling the same number I am at this precise moment in time. Or maybe the people on the other end of the line are simply too lazy? I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt just as a sour voice comes on the phone and asks me what I need.
I patiently ask, and then before I finish I hear the dreaded words again: "Ok, let me tranfer you" Oh! but this time I get to listen to a sweet, piano ballad that all but makes me fall asleep.
Finally, an automated voice comes on and asks me questions. (I absolutely despise talking to machines. It makes me feel so stupid.) And then it tells me to call another number and have a great day.
Bloody hell.
That has to be one of the most irritating combination of words, usually heard when one calls a major company in dire need of some crucial information.
I am sitting here in such a situation and it just dawned upon me that the "soothing", "enjoyable" music is anything but that. I have been listening to an up-beat jazzy tune for the past 10 minutes, and it has been driving me nuts. And somehow, the occasional interruption that announces that "Your call is important to us, and will be answered shortly. While you wait, why not go on out website and buy things?" do not convince me that someone will be helping me "soon!".
As I sit here patiently I ponder if there are really that many people all calling the same number I am at this precise moment in time. Or maybe the people on the other end of the line are simply too lazy? I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt just as a sour voice comes on the phone and asks me what I need.
I patiently ask, and then before I finish I hear the dreaded words again: "Ok, let me tranfer you" Oh! but this time I get to listen to a sweet, piano ballad that all but makes me fall asleep.
Finally, an automated voice comes on and asks me questions. (I absolutely despise talking to machines. It makes me feel so stupid.) And then it tells me to call another number and have a great day.
Bloody hell.
Quasi-Instant Millionaire
During my lunch break, I had to run to the post office to mail something. (For the record, I will say that post offices are some of the most confusing places ever invented, especially the one in Grand Central. It is huge, and it just looks like there are random lines of impatient people all over the place, sighing and rolling their eyes as the people ahead of them take more than 2 minutes to figure out what they need to do and where to go. I, for one, got in the wrong line, mainly because I was tired of pointlessly wandering, and the line looked long enough that it should be the right one.)
As I was patiently waiting in line, I started observing the man in front of me. An over-stuffed, worn messenger bag was slung across his left shoulder and hanging in front of him. He was holding what, to me, the inexperienced gambler, appeared to be an entire booklet of lottery tickets. He was holding at least 15, and just kept pulling more out of his bag. Every additional ticket was a new chance to become an "Instant Millionaire!!", yet from the look of it he hadn't won yet, and the scratched tickets accumulating in his hands were not helping.
All of a sudden he turned around, looks at me and gestures from himself to the trash can 10 feet away, and back to the line, and I assumed he meant he would be right back. Just like I thought, he dashed to the trash can, tossed out the tickets and ran back. He then leaned on a counter, pulled out a few more tickets (!!) out of his bag, looked at me and goes "You look like a lucky lady! Maybe I'll win this time!" (Don't ask me what a lucky person looks like, I don't know). He then rambled on about how he wins a lot of time, because "people don't know the game so they're scared and they don't play. so I win!" He was ecstatic.
That was the last thing he said to me before dashing (he seemed to be in a hurry, for some reason. At one point, his cell phone rang and, after being very pleasant to the person on the other end, hung up and said F*@#$ pain in the a$$!" I had to laugh at that) to the counter, getting something stamped, and running out.
I'll be honest and say I really don't know where I'm going with this story, except proving my point that there are weird people in New York City, who constantly brighten up my days (there was also a lady who rudely asked me for the time, and as I was rummaging through my bag she just walked away ignoring my obvious puzzlement). But that's what makes NYC so special and loveable!
As I was patiently waiting in line, I started observing the man in front of me. An over-stuffed, worn messenger bag was slung across his left shoulder and hanging in front of him. He was holding what, to me, the inexperienced gambler, appeared to be an entire booklet of lottery tickets. He was holding at least 15, and just kept pulling more out of his bag. Every additional ticket was a new chance to become an "Instant Millionaire!!", yet from the look of it he hadn't won yet, and the scratched tickets accumulating in his hands were not helping.
All of a sudden he turned around, looks at me and gestures from himself to the trash can 10 feet away, and back to the line, and I assumed he meant he would be right back. Just like I thought, he dashed to the trash can, tossed out the tickets and ran back. He then leaned on a counter, pulled out a few more tickets (!!) out of his bag, looked at me and goes "You look like a lucky lady! Maybe I'll win this time!" (Don't ask me what a lucky person looks like, I don't know). He then rambled on about how he wins a lot of time, because "people don't know the game so they're scared and they don't play. so I win!" He was ecstatic.
That was the last thing he said to me before dashing (he seemed to be in a hurry, for some reason. At one point, his cell phone rang and, after being very pleasant to the person on the other end, hung up and said F*@#$ pain in the a$$!" I had to laugh at that) to the counter, getting something stamped, and running out.
I'll be honest and say I really don't know where I'm going with this story, except proving my point that there are weird people in New York City, who constantly brighten up my days (there was also a lady who rudely asked me for the time, and as I was rummaging through my bag she just walked away ignoring my obvious puzzlement). But that's what makes NYC so special and loveable!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Sprinkler attack
For those who don't get the post below, I was simply wishing all my fellow Quebecers (people from Québec) a wonderful and happy national holiday.
And since I was taught to cater content to audience, and I do realize that there are probably more English-speaking people who visit my blog (the ratio is probably close to 2:0) and you didn't get a story yesterday, I figured I would give you a story, too. Here it goes:
I was attacked by another sidewalk sprinkler yesterday. Someone share with me the idea that maybe the sprinklers were used as a safety measure to keep people away from the house, so I thought I would not give in to this primitive and childish manner of protection and walked through it.
I think from now on I'll just walk around. Dry clothes are well worth the detour.
And since I was taught to cater content to audience, and I do realize that there are probably more English-speaking people who visit my blog (the ratio is probably close to 2:0) and you didn't get a story yesterday, I figured I would give you a story, too. Here it goes:
I was attacked by another sidewalk sprinkler yesterday. Someone share with me the idea that maybe the sprinklers were used as a safety measure to keep people away from the house, so I thought I would not give in to this primitive and childish manner of protection and walked through it.
I think from now on I'll just walk around. Dry clothes are well worth the detour.
Bonne St-Jean!
Bonne St-Jean à tous les Québécois et Québécoises!
Même si d'habitude j'écris en anglais, j'ai pensé qu'en ce 24 juin 2007, ca valait la peine de prendre le temps et d'écrire en francais (j'espère ne pas être trop rouillée...) Vendredi et samedi soirs, je suis allée à deux soirées pour célébrer la St-Jean, fête nationale du Québec, à New York, et je dois dire que j'étais surprise du nombre de Québécois qui habitent ici (même si j'ai aussi rencontré des Francais, ce qui, techniquement ne compte pas, mais bon ils sont francophones pareil alors ne nous plaignons pas trop trop). Hier soir, samedi, il devait y avoir environ 200 personnes rassemblées au club Arena, habillées en bleu et blanc pour boire des bières Québécoises, chanter avec les chansonniers (Lucien Roy et Pépé et sa guitare) et en général juste pour célébrer nos racines.
Quand on habite à New York, c'est parfois facile d'oublier nos origines, car on se fait très vite embarquer dans le brouhaha américain et les folies de cette ville qui ne dort jamais. Je ne peux parler que pour moi même, mais je dois dire qu'il marrive parfois (bon, très bien souvent) de me considérer comme un New Yorkaise. Mais j'ai beaucoup apprécié les deux soirées passées en compagnie de mes compatriotes, parce qu'ells m'ont permis de me rappeler que je suis Québécoise, et bien fière de l'être. Je suis fière de venir d'une place si riche et qui a tant a offrire, et qui est pleine de monde incroyables et uniques.
En gros, Bonne St-Jean et vive le Québec!
Même si d'habitude j'écris en anglais, j'ai pensé qu'en ce 24 juin 2007, ca valait la peine de prendre le temps et d'écrire en francais (j'espère ne pas être trop rouillée...) Vendredi et samedi soirs, je suis allée à deux soirées pour célébrer la St-Jean, fête nationale du Québec, à New York, et je dois dire que j'étais surprise du nombre de Québécois qui habitent ici (même si j'ai aussi rencontré des Francais, ce qui, techniquement ne compte pas, mais bon ils sont francophones pareil alors ne nous plaignons pas trop trop). Hier soir, samedi, il devait y avoir environ 200 personnes rassemblées au club Arena, habillées en bleu et blanc pour boire des bières Québécoises, chanter avec les chansonniers (Lucien Roy et Pépé et sa guitare) et en général juste pour célébrer nos racines.
Quand on habite à New York, c'est parfois facile d'oublier nos origines, car on se fait très vite embarquer dans le brouhaha américain et les folies de cette ville qui ne dort jamais. Je ne peux parler que pour moi même, mais je dois dire qu'il marrive parfois (bon, très bien souvent) de me considérer comme un New Yorkaise. Mais j'ai beaucoup apprécié les deux soirées passées en compagnie de mes compatriotes, parce qu'ells m'ont permis de me rappeler que je suis Québécoise, et bien fière de l'être. Je suis fière de venir d'une place si riche et qui a tant a offrire, et qui est pleine de monde incroyables et uniques.
En gros, Bonne St-Jean et vive le Québec!
Friday, June 22, 2007
My Contribution to Society
I recently subscribed to the "Word of the Day" from Dictionary.com, and now that I'm learning a new word every day, I figured the least I can do is share those words with (the few of) you and that way make the world a more wordly one.
So here goes. The word of the day for June 22nd was COUNTERVAIL.
Countervail -
1. To act against with equal force, power, or effect; to counteract.
2. To compensate for; to offset; to furnish or serve as an equivalent to.
3. To exert force against an opposing, often bad, influence or power.
Hope you feel smarter already!
So here goes. The word of the day for June 22nd was COUNTERVAIL.
Countervail -
1. To act against with equal force, power, or effect; to counteract.
2. To compensate for; to offset; to furnish or serve as an equivalent to.
3. To exert force against an opposing, often bad, influence or power.
Hope you feel smarter already!
Chinese Manicure
Now that my first ambition of having a blog is well under course, I figured I should get started on my next one. Yesterday, I had a revelation and it was suddenly clear to me what my next move should be: learn Chinese.
This may seem to come out of the blue and be totally random, but there is a perfectly good and sensible explanation for it. Last night, as I rushed from work to go to a friend's birthday dinner, I had to squeeze in a manicure. The place I usually go to was packed, and being pressed for time I found a new place, which was actually much nicer. When I got to sit down, one of the ladies sitting at the other end of the table (she will be referred to as "Greta" for the sake of simplicity) complimented me on my necklace (it was either my necklace or my shirt, she just kind of pointed and said "beautiful!"). I thanked her and sat down as my nail lady ("Lynn") agreed with her and smiled at me.
Now this is where learning Chinese becomes relevant. After I thanked her, Lynn looked at Greta and they exchanged a coy little smile, and started blabbing away in Chinese. That's not so bad yet, since any reasonable person will tell you they could have been talking about anything. But THEN Lynn just kept on staring at my necklace, smiling and talking to Greta, then laughing and looking at me with the sweetest of all smiles that all but screamed at me "Haha! I can talk about you and you have no idea what i'm saying!!" That's when I had my revelation.
It was further reinforced when a short, white-haired man walked in and asked for a manicure, and all the innocent-looking pedicurists made comments (at least I imagine they were comments about him, they wouldn't just happen to start discussing politics...would they?). And they all started laughing, which further piqued my curiosity.
Now wouldn't it be great if I spoke Chinese and just understood everything they were saying? Plus, I could probably get some "designer" bags for much cheaper over on Canal Street.
But that's the beauty of language. Gotta love it, it's a wonderful thing, really.
This may seem to come out of the blue and be totally random, but there is a perfectly good and sensible explanation for it. Last night, as I rushed from work to go to a friend's birthday dinner, I had to squeeze in a manicure. The place I usually go to was packed, and being pressed for time I found a new place, which was actually much nicer. When I got to sit down, one of the ladies sitting at the other end of the table (she will be referred to as "Greta" for the sake of simplicity) complimented me on my necklace (it was either my necklace or my shirt, she just kind of pointed and said "beautiful!"). I thanked her and sat down as my nail lady ("Lynn") agreed with her and smiled at me.
Now this is where learning Chinese becomes relevant. After I thanked her, Lynn looked at Greta and they exchanged a coy little smile, and started blabbing away in Chinese. That's not so bad yet, since any reasonable person will tell you they could have been talking about anything. But THEN Lynn just kept on staring at my necklace, smiling and talking to Greta, then laughing and looking at me with the sweetest of all smiles that all but screamed at me "Haha! I can talk about you and you have no idea what i'm saying!!" That's when I had my revelation.
It was further reinforced when a short, white-haired man walked in and asked for a manicure, and all the innocent-looking pedicurists made comments (at least I imagine they were comments about him, they wouldn't just happen to start discussing politics...would they?). And they all started laughing, which further piqued my curiosity.
Now wouldn't it be great if I spoke Chinese and just understood everything they were saying? Plus, I could probably get some "designer" bags for much cheaper over on Canal Street.
But that's the beauty of language. Gotta love it, it's a wonderful thing, really.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Caffeine and Uniforms
This blog has become my new caffeine. No, I'm not addicted to it (yet), but I found that it does wonders when it comes to waking me up.
I have been writing articles all day at my new internship, and although I downed a cup of coffee about 2 minutes ago, I still felt so sleepy reading webpage after webpage on the subjects for my articles. So I decided to write. (This might not make sense... writing to take a break from writing... but it's all about the what. Notice I even changed the color and font this time. Hey, a girl has got to find ways to stay enterntained. Come on now.)
I did have a few minutes of lucidity around 2:00 while I was eating my tasteless sandwich. The mere fact that I was about to have food kept me going from 1:43 to 2:01, when I caved in to my grumbling stomach, but then the people around me started having a discussion about poodle skirts, which slowly drifted into the ever interesting topic of school uniforms. This immediately caught my attention. One of the ladies me was talking about how the nuns at one of her schools inisisted that all skirts and dresses (no pants whatsoever) had to be long enough that they would touch the ground when the girls kneeled (I incidentally just found out that the past for kneel can be either "knelt" or "kneeled". interesting.) Then she talked about her other school, where girls still wore mini skirts but didn't know how to walk in them just yet (it's hard, give them some credit). So the boys would line up by the water fountains and wait for girls to come get a drink. How charming.
This whole conversation reminded me of my own high school experience. I went to two different HS, and at the first one we had a point system. I remember losing many a points to my "too-short" skirt (notice the " ". I still think that length was fine.) And then my second high school where that same length was actually considered too long by students, to the obvious distress of the staff. And now, that school has banned skirts. That's it. Finito. Only pants starting next year. man that's gonna suck. hehe Those girls better find a solution to hot summer days.
Now I've been accused of rambling on about random "bullshit", so as to please my readers (to a certain extent, since i've already rambled on) I will stop here. for now. Plus, I'm awake now and leaving the office in 18 minutes. Joy!
I have been writing articles all day at my new internship, and although I downed a cup of coffee about 2 minutes ago, I still felt so sleepy reading webpage after webpage on the subjects for my articles. So I decided to write. (This might not make sense... writing to take a break from writing... but it's all about the what. Notice I even changed the color and font this time. Hey, a girl has got to find ways to stay enterntained. Come on now.)
I did have a few minutes of lucidity around 2:00 while I was eating my tasteless sandwich. The mere fact that I was about to have food kept me going from 1:43 to 2:01, when I caved in to my grumbling stomach, but then the people around me started having a discussion about poodle skirts, which slowly drifted into the ever interesting topic of school uniforms. This immediately caught my attention. One of the ladies me was talking about how the nuns at one of her schools inisisted that all skirts and dresses (no pants whatsoever) had to be long enough that they would touch the ground when the girls kneeled (I incidentally just found out that the past for kneel can be either "knelt" or "kneeled". interesting.) Then she talked about her other school, where girls still wore mini skirts but didn't know how to walk in them just yet (it's hard, give them some credit). So the boys would line up by the water fountains and wait for girls to come get a drink. How charming.
This whole conversation reminded me of my own high school experience. I went to two different HS, and at the first one we had a point system. I remember losing many a points to my "too-short" skirt (notice the " ". I still think that length was fine.) And then my second high school where that same length was actually considered too long by students, to the obvious distress of the staff. And now, that school has banned skirts. That's it. Finito. Only pants starting next year. man that's gonna suck. hehe Those girls better find a solution to hot summer days.
Now I've been accused of rambling on about random "bullshit", so as to please my readers (to a certain extent, since i've already rambled on) I will stop here. for now. Plus, I'm awake now and leaving the office in 18 minutes. Joy!
Gym World
Now that we are well into the summer, it finally dawned upon me that beach season isn't approaching anymore. It's Here. So for the past few days, I've been religiously hitting the gym and watching (somewhat) what I eat.
Last night, as I was riding my favorite cardio machine the elliptical, I was facing a mirror and that way could see everything that was happening behind me. And since there is nothing else to do when elliptical-ing, I started noticing things and thinking about how some of them just did NOT make sense, or were just funny.
The first thing that caught my attention was the girl using the bike behind me. She was sitting there peddling, all the while just hitting her things with her fists. I'm sure that does something in relaxing muscles, but she just kept hitting herself. Over and over.
Now the way the gym is constructed, there are 4 different parts to it, with walls but no doors between them (just opening in the walls). From my elliptical, I could only see the room I was in, and a little bit of the adjacent one. Then, out of the wall comes a man doing squats with weights. Though that is an excellent butt firmer, I had to keep myself from laughing as the man crossed the entire gym and back doing squats -- quite a sight.
This next one is one of my favorite: a kid was running backwards on the treadmill - and he was reading. Figure that one out. I know it left me pretty puzzled.
Now although the first three potentially have explainations, the last one doesn't. Why do people wear baseball hats in the gym?! I think I actually gave this one guy a pretty harsh look because he was wearing a perfectly good Yankees hat while he was working out. Please.
So that was my fun in the gym... Hopefully this will motivate some of you to go (I only know of two people reading this and they're both supposed to be working out... put those playlist to use dammit! =)
Last night, as I was riding my favorite cardio machine the elliptical, I was facing a mirror and that way could see everything that was happening behind me. And since there is nothing else to do when elliptical-ing, I started noticing things and thinking about how some of them just did NOT make sense, or were just funny.
The first thing that caught my attention was the girl using the bike behind me. She was sitting there peddling, all the while just hitting her things with her fists. I'm sure that does something in relaxing muscles, but she just kept hitting herself. Over and over.
Now the way the gym is constructed, there are 4 different parts to it, with walls but no doors between them (just opening in the walls). From my elliptical, I could only see the room I was in, and a little bit of the adjacent one. Then, out of the wall comes a man doing squats with weights. Though that is an excellent butt firmer, I had to keep myself from laughing as the man crossed the entire gym and back doing squats -- quite a sight.
This next one is one of my favorite: a kid was running backwards on the treadmill - and he was reading. Figure that one out. I know it left me pretty puzzled.
Now although the first three potentially have explainations, the last one doesn't. Why do people wear baseball hats in the gym?! I think I actually gave this one guy a pretty harsh look because he was wearing a perfectly good Yankees hat while he was working out. Please.
So that was my fun in the gym... Hopefully this will motivate some of you to go (I only know of two people reading this and they're both supposed to be working out... put those playlist to use dammit! =)
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Umbrella Coordination
Walking out of the office for lunch, I saw people with umbrellas even though it wasn't raining, which I think is always ammusing (I love the feeling of stupidity when I realize I am still carrying my umbrella even though it stopped raining, but I didn't notice because duh! I've been sheltered by my loyal 'brella).
But the whole umbrella-with-no-rain got me thinking about the times when it does rain - and the crowded streets of New York are suddenly filled with big black umbrellas, which must look really impressive from high above. I've always thought it really organized and disciplined the way people manage to maneuver around each other when everyone is carrying an umbrella. There seems to be this unspoken agreement between two people as they near each other. "Ok, I'll put my umbrella up, you bring yours down to your head. GO!" and then somehow no one hits each other. Almost. Of course there's always the inconsiderate person who just keeps walking, not thinking that an umbrella takes up more space than no umbrella, and in the process hits countless people. Or the people who walk by themselves and carry an umbrella big enough to shelter 3, and by doing so take up the entire sidewalk. (And then people like me who forget their umbrellas and are trying to run can't pass them and get frustrated... or sometimes I just try to sneak under the umbrella with them and hope they won't notice. That technique has yet to work.) Yes, umbrellas are a good time. Rihanna was right to make a song about it.
Oh and this morning I almost laughed outloud when I saw a little girl walking with a normal size umbrella... she must have hit 5 people in a row without noticing. And of course, since she was short she hit all of them in the tummy. ouch.
But the whole umbrella-with-no-rain got me thinking about the times when it does rain - and the crowded streets of New York are suddenly filled with big black umbrellas, which must look really impressive from high above. I've always thought it really organized and disciplined the way people manage to maneuver around each other when everyone is carrying an umbrella. There seems to be this unspoken agreement between two people as they near each other. "Ok, I'll put my umbrella up, you bring yours down to your head. GO!" and then somehow no one hits each other. Almost. Of course there's always the inconsiderate person who just keeps walking, not thinking that an umbrella takes up more space than no umbrella, and in the process hits countless people. Or the people who walk by themselves and carry an umbrella big enough to shelter 3, and by doing so take up the entire sidewalk. (And then people like me who forget their umbrellas and are trying to run can't pass them and get frustrated... or sometimes I just try to sneak under the umbrella with them and hope they won't notice. That technique has yet to work.) Yes, umbrellas are a good time. Rihanna was right to make a song about it.
Oh and this morning I almost laughed outloud when I saw a little girl walking with a normal size umbrella... she must have hit 5 people in a row without noticing. And of course, since she was short she hit all of them in the tummy. ouch.
Life
I recently started my first internship in PR at the National MS Society here in New York (MS stands for Multiple Sclerosis). I have to admit that event though I only started working here last week, I do get bored from time to time - hence the blogging in the middle of the day. But recently I've been thinking about life in general, and reading and writing a whole bunch of articles about people with MS has given me a new perspective on life: we are lucky to have it.
I started thinking about life (and death) last week when I heard the shocking news that one of the kids from my high school graduating class died in a car crash. I didn't know him that well, but enough to feel deeply disturbed. It made me realize that we never know what life has in store for us. That evening after work I went to babysit a little girl I often babysit, and I was surprised at how my perspective changed. I usually get annoyed with the little games she forces me to play, but that specific night I looked at her getting so excited at the sight of her new doll and I was amazed. Life used to be so simple as a kid and so much fun, but I think that's partly because they are so easily amazed and impressed, and that makes them truly happy. Later, she started telling me about her little boyfriend - keep in mind here that she is about 5. Talking about it, she was the cutest thing ever, and I realized how precious life is.
OK this is getting depressing... but still sometimes we have to take the time to stop and look at how lucky we are. Some people have MS and can't function without at wheelchair, but there are always worse things. At least we have life.
now i'm gonna go eat enjoy life and eat some chocolate.
I started thinking about life (and death) last week when I heard the shocking news that one of the kids from my high school graduating class died in a car crash. I didn't know him that well, but enough to feel deeply disturbed. It made me realize that we never know what life has in store for us. That evening after work I went to babysit a little girl I often babysit, and I was surprised at how my perspective changed. I usually get annoyed with the little games she forces me to play, but that specific night I looked at her getting so excited at the sight of her new doll and I was amazed. Life used to be so simple as a kid and so much fun, but I think that's partly because they are so easily amazed and impressed, and that makes them truly happy. Later, she started telling me about her little boyfriend - keep in mind here that she is about 5. Talking about it, she was the cutest thing ever, and I realized how precious life is.
OK this is getting depressing... but still sometimes we have to take the time to stop and look at how lucky we are. Some people have MS and can't function without at wheelchair, but there are always worse things. At least we have life.
now i'm gonna go eat enjoy life and eat some chocolate.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sidewalk Sprinklers
I've always wondered why people water their sidewalks.
I was walking home a few days ago when I encountered one such display of water waste: the entire sidewalk was wet, as was half the street, because of a few sprinklers set up in front of a house. I don't know if the actual grass was wet, since there was no way for me to check: I had to cross the street, and then cross back in order to get to my house. But the sprinklers definitely seemed to be rotating in a manner that covered more sidewalk than grass (and I'm not mentioning flowers because there was just no type of flower arrangement whatsoever. Go figure).
Now don't get me wrong, this is fabulous for children. I wish I was still 6 and could just run down the sidewalk and be magically and instantly refreshed. But unfortunately I'm not, and although I could pretend the main reason I am bothered by it is because it's such waste and we are running out of ressources (which is true), it really bothers me because it forces me to cross the street unecessarily. Or if I'm distracted and happen to walk through the water, it wets my precious shoes (Not that my shoes are overly expensive and rare, but still, i cherish them. And water on shoes is never a good thing). Or, when I decide to be brave and run through, I still have to stop in my tracks, look at the water marks, figure out the current position of the water and the path it follows, and then run frantically and dodge it.
I won't lie... the latter is actually loads of fun. But I still think that if I was passing by in a car and saw someone focusing so intently on a water sprinkler, I would probably laugh for a while. Just like when I see people fighting through bug clouds on humid evenings. That's always a good laugh...
I was walking home a few days ago when I encountered one such display of water waste: the entire sidewalk was wet, as was half the street, because of a few sprinklers set up in front of a house. I don't know if the actual grass was wet, since there was no way for me to check: I had to cross the street, and then cross back in order to get to my house. But the sprinklers definitely seemed to be rotating in a manner that covered more sidewalk than grass (and I'm not mentioning flowers because there was just no type of flower arrangement whatsoever. Go figure).
Now don't get me wrong, this is fabulous for children. I wish I was still 6 and could just run down the sidewalk and be magically and instantly refreshed. But unfortunately I'm not, and although I could pretend the main reason I am bothered by it is because it's such waste and we are running out of ressources (which is true), it really bothers me because it forces me to cross the street unecessarily. Or if I'm distracted and happen to walk through the water, it wets my precious shoes (Not that my shoes are overly expensive and rare, but still, i cherish them. And water on shoes is never a good thing). Or, when I decide to be brave and run through, I still have to stop in my tracks, look at the water marks, figure out the current position of the water and the path it follows, and then run frantically and dodge it.
I won't lie... the latter is actually loads of fun. But I still think that if I was passing by in a car and saw someone focusing so intently on a water sprinkler, I would probably laugh for a while. Just like when I see people fighting through bug clouds on humid evenings. That's always a good laugh...
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