Dr. LaMorte

I actually had a Professor LaMorte at BU. He's awesome--he just won the Metcalf Award! I have no idea if the recommendation that I wrote last year was a part of the 2011 committee's selection process. But if it was, I'm happy that I contributed my very tiny part to recognize this teacher and mentor. In the 0.02% chance that you'll see this, Dr. LaMorte, hope you're having a great summer sailing and relaxing, and congratulations!

The other Dr. Death: Kevorkian. I'm sure you've read the articles about his recent death. I think it's unfortunate that his advocacy of euthanasia was portrayed in the media as so grotesque. Granted, his attention-seeking antics were obnoxious. However, we euthanize animals to prevent suffering, so why is there such a strong reaction against allowing a person to end their own life?

I believe that the decision to choose the how and when of one's death should be included in the Patient's Bill of Rights. The protection that it outlines now: the right to privacy, prevention of abusive insurance practices--sure, fine. To me it's still fairly useless and un-enforced, and as a result healthcare practices and services have a long way to go. I'm frustrated with the lack of welfare and social protection that I feel a government should enact and enforce on behalf of its population.

What is this preoccupation with preventing death? Is life really worth extending a few years through over-dependence on prescription drugs? Or kept alive in a hospice bed by a machine that breathes for you? As the baby boomer generation approaches old age en masse, we are going to have significant social and economic challenges in the healthcare industry. I don't bring that point up as a reason or justification for radical policies. But I do think there are questions and issues that should be discussed preemptively.

Kevorkian was a pragmatic thinker; his ideas on death should not be labeled as morbid or depraved, but as compassionate and progressive.

I've missed you

Dear Red Hot,

I've known you for a long time, but we don't always get the chance to enjoy each others' company. You live in Chicago; I live in San Francisco. I think of you frequently, and with fondness. Whenever other hot dogs enter my life, I try to give them the benefit of the doubt and hope that they can measure up to you. But without fail, nothing comes close. You will always have a special place in my heart.

This weekend is our time; on Sunday you are mine. I can't wait to see you.

Love,
N

She only gets a pass because yesterday was Mother's Day

Did I call it, or did I call it?

Well, I guess I am my mother's daughter, so I would be able to call it. I talked to my mom today, which consisted of general updates and the fact that I can't fit into my dress for the wedding. I'm going to need her to work some voodoo on that situation. I call her from work and speak to her in Korean so that my officemates can't make out what I'm saying. However, this backfires on me when I interject every now and again with "Mom, NO. NO."

Today's "Mom, NO" resulted from her bringing this guy back up. Really? I thought I took care of that. Le sigh. 

I know his family is invited to this wedding. And I know he'll miraculously be sat next to me.

In- and semi-significant life updates

1. Apartment is lovely, though I still don't have a bed. That's a spicy purchase, and I'm not ready to make such a big commitment. Also, I tried to hang a mirror, which unfortunately came crashing down off the wall onto my second-hand store wooden tray. The tray probably isn't worth much, but I love it, and now it has a chipped toof. Next to my cracked jewelry dish that broke into pieces and subsequently glued lovingly back together with some Elmer's, my belongings are starting to look a little janky.

2. Fleet Feet is kind of awesome. I went into the store to finally get some big girl running shoes, and they were so helpful. Apparently my feet are shrinking from a size 6 to a size 4.5. What the ish? I have feet nubbins. No wonder why I can't do my one-legged yoga stands well--all I have are stumps to balance on. But after putting on the right-size shoe, I definitely felt the difference. And considering the McHotties running around that store, I might have to invest some time into actually running so I have another excuse to walk in there and ogle.

3. Sister's wedding is in less than a month, which means that I get to spend Memorial Day weekend in Chicago! It's one of my favorite times of the year to be in my hometown. Can't wait for some friends and family time, to tie another 4,265,345 bows, to eat some Potbelly's, and watch my sister say her "I do's." On the flip side, as soon as that ring is slipped onto her finger, my mother's hawkish eyes will likely be scanning the crowd for any and all single bachelors at this wedding. Guh. Of the woman's many talents, I have to admit that this Korean yente's ability to sniff out a single man within a 30-mile radius is impressive.

Spring = rebirth

Last May, I was "going through some things," as we like to say in the San Francisco chapter of the Meat Club. And like any good emo-hipster-wanna-be, I was spending time at coffee shops, head buried in my Mac, realizing that, "Wow, someone else has gone through this before and wrote a song about it! Rad."

Nico, Fairest of the Seasons

Now that it's time

Now that the hour has landed at the end

Now that it's real

Now that the dreams have given all they had to lend

I want to know do I stay or do I go

And maybe try another time

And do I really have a hand in my forgetting?

I fought it, but the grad school loan-holding part of me started accepting that the right doors weren't opening for me in this city, and that I needed to suck it up and either move home to Chicago or back to DC. Thank God even that side of me is a procrastinator, and that I have the best friends and family in the world who took me in, fed me, consoled me--basically burped me and wiped my ass for me--for the past few months. After some time, I got back on my feet and I am officially back in commission.

I just cooked my first meal in the tiny kitchen of my apartment. So the floors slope a little, and the stove is from 1921--no big deal. I can walk around naked and sing to Alanis Morissette on the top of my lungs. Jagged Little Pill. Win-win for everyone. Don't worry, my blinds are shut so that I don't offend the neighbors.

Now with the weather warming up, I'm probably going to look out the windows of my office longingly towards Dolores Park, and reminisce about all of those beautiful days in the sun. But I'll also keep in mind that while I was daydreaming in the park, I longingly remembered days that I had money in the checking account.

Jacques

...Julia, Lidia, Chris, Victor, Bob, and David.

I miss them all so much. It's been nearly a month since I've gone from couch-dweller to cubiclite, and it's been rough. I miss watching each of them while sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands on a sun-drenched morning. Late morning. Probably closer to noon.

Going to sleep is the toughest part. I should be sleeping now, actually. But I just can't shake this night owl business I have going on. In high school I had a really jacked up schedule: got home from school at 4pm or 5pm, slept until 2am, woke up to do homework, shower, eat, then back to school by 7am. I realized then that my favorite time of day is 4am, when no one else is awake and everything is still.

Anyway, I need to cut this short because I really need to get to bed. Some major kudos to the person who can list the last names of my beloved public broadcasting favorites. Speaking of which, the House cut funding for public broadcasting. That is a damn shame--truly. Luckily a very small portion of funding is from the government. Nonetheless, what funding they do and should continue to receive can still be advocated for through the Senate. Please visit www.170millionamericans.org and write your Senator.

Goodnight.

I am mad at Anthropologie.

Anytime someone asks, I tell them "I just moved to San Francisco!" But as my little blog here confirms, I've been here a little longer than my self-purported "officially since June 1" date. Apparently I've been here since April, which makes my upcoming April 1 move-in date to my fabulous new apartment very special. It's fabulous. The closet has a window in it. A window.

Let's revisit what I decided my future would hold a year ago: a job, an apartment, a well-stocked kitchen, dog, and a Vespa. My, my, aren't we ambitious? It took me a whole year to put some roots down in San Francisco, and I am appreciative and grateful for how things are coming together. I signed myself up for a Pacific Heights studio, 0.3 miles from Meena, 0.5 miles from Chez Knichards (my current house where I have been playing permanent houseguest), 1.1 miles from Diana, 11.1 miles from my sister, and 2913 miles from Catherine. Sorry, Catherine.

What's with the title, right? Well, in all the excitement over a potential new apartment, I went Type A and researched all of the furniture I wanted for my new pad. Julia recently told me that I'm Type A. "What? Me? No way.. I am so not Type A." After I looked at my spreadsheet, separated by room type, and including such columns as price per unit, shipping, link, etc., I bowed my head in silence to acknowledge that, indeed, I have Type A qualities.

After three in-the-zone days of online research and sifting through my go-to retailers, I came up with a decent list of furniture. If you saw it, you'd be impressed and hire me to organize your life. Just saying. After staring at my screen with dry contacts, I stumbled across the Anthropologie site. I never shop here--mostly because I can't afford a bar of soap from here. But apparently they've done their market research on me and already sells everything I want. And/or they should hire me as a buyer because I guess their customers just want everything I want.

Exhibits:

  

Overstock, Manchester Club Chair, $308     Anthropologie, Lunet Chair, $1698

  

Pottery Barn, Adrienne Bed, $549     Anthropologie, Marigold Bed, $1298

 

HDC, Holbrook End Table, $249     Anthropologie, Decker End Table, $248

  

HDC, Holbrook Console Table, $379     Anthropologie, Decker Console Table, $398

  

HDC, Holbrook Coffee Table, $369     Anthropologie, Open House Coffee Table, $1,198

  

Target, Glass Accent Table, $80   Target, Mirrored Console Table, $210   Anthropologie, Mirrored Dresser, $1298

  

Craigslist, Reclaimed Wood Bookshelf, $650     Anthropologie, Decker Bookshelf, $698

What the HEEZY, right? Bah, I really dislike that I am exactly like everyone else and that the individually selected pieces of furniture I thought were eclectic and/or interesting are being sold in one store. No bueno.