I can't stand my congressman.

I am a liberal. A moderate one, but a liberal nonetheless. However, I am not an idiot. I do not blindly follow anyone on the left (and until he brought on that dipshit Palin, actually considered voting for McCain last year).

That said, I hate my Congressman, Representative Jim McDermott - D, WA.

Why? A few months ago, he tried to ask Congress for money to repair the windows of a private club in downtown Seattle - a club I've attended as a performer, where only I, one other member of my group, and the waitstaff could check off a "minority" box on a data form. It is a club that is not only exclusive, but caters to the wealthy and collects dues from them. That said, Representative McDermott felt it important that taxpayer money go to help them restore their "historic" windows.

Now, he's voted against reprimanding Joe Wilson for his outburst against the president, stating that it's a waste of time and taxpayer money.

So... following due course to punish a representative of congress for acting disrespectfully when he should know better is a waste of time, but give rich people money they don't need to fix windows they could pay for themselves isn't?

And this is only the most recent of my issues with him. What it boils down to is that he's a liberal douche who's become comfortable in his place in Washington, because nobody credible has ever risen up to challenge him.

So please, somebody. Oust Jim McDermott at the next opportunity. I know that this kind of back and forth is standard in congress, but it shouldn't be. We have a right to hold our representatives to a higher moral standard, and I think it's time that we do.

And there's my two cents. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Blowing off the dust... right into the air(lines).

Well, it's certainly been a while hasn't it. And what better way to start things anew(ish) than with a rant discerning review of airlines!

Yes, air travel is everyone's favorite thing nowadays, so of course you want the best airline. And me, I've flown on a few. You should see my collection of tail pins on my work lanyard: seven (plus two that are presently out of stock), and soon to add one more. So, I know from flying.

If you're flying internationally and can afford it, my recommendation is fly British Airways. Granted, it's been a few years since I was lucky enough to fly on them, round trip, Seattle to Italy through London, but my God. No U.S. airline can match that level of customer service. Of course, this is the airline that modeled its entire service structure after its flagship, Concorde, the ultimate commerical flying experience, so it's no wonder. My dream is to fly BA first class (although preferably not on an A-380, because I'm just too impatient to wait for 800 other people to get off the plane with me). All Nippon Airways was also an extremely pleasant experience getting back and forth to Japan, with very polite staff if not quite as friendly as BA. Having not flown them quite as recently, I can't give such a glowing review, but my I do hold them very favorably.

However, most of my flying is done domestically, on major airlines, so that's what will follow from here on out. The #1 satisfaction award goes hands-down to Alaska. Now, once upon a time, I refused to fly on Alaska. They were constantly late, they had a series of crashes, and the worst delay I've ever experienced was with them - 13 hours for a 3 hour flight from LAS to SEA, with only an $8 meal voucher per person as compensation up front. Mom wrote them a nasty letter, we got free round trip tickets, and used them to go to Disneyland in 2001, and for four years, that was it. I refused to fly Alaska because they were just that bad.

BUT, then they had a turn around, a reorginization - an epiphany. They expanded routes to include direct flights to the East Coast - I've flown the DCA and EWR flights, and they are just wonderful. An all 737 fleet? Beautiful. But where they earn the most points? Is their check in procedures. Now, basically every airline lets you check in online now, whether or not you're checking bags. Where Alaska gets smart is that (at least at Sea-Tac), they completely separate their bag check and airport check-in to two totally different (although not that far away) areas of the airport. Which means? No standing there, waiting to check-in while someone else waits to check their bag. Nope, you are either checking in or checking your bag, and there has almost never been a line because they have SO MANY STATIONS IT MAKES SENSE! Gosh. An airline that actually thinks? This would be why Alaska is now my preferred airline.

After Alaska, I'll take Southwest. Sure, some people might not appreciate the "pick your own seat" method, but as long as you check in exactly 24 hours before your departure? You're good. And it's not like rushing in with a herd of cattle; they line you up nice and neat in little groups, and it's all very civilized. Plus? Comfy, squishy seats. And pretty reasonable fares. AND BEST OF ALL: two bags, free. It's amazing that that has become a small miracle so quickly.

Next comes United. Not exactly an outstanding airline in my experience - especially since it's practically impossible to find a decently priced direct flight - but pretty solid nonetheless. Nothing much to complain about, besides the fact that they haven't perfected the art of check-in the way Alaska has, but they're not the only ones. Their buy in-flight food is actually decent, too. And the availability of ways to earn miles besides actually flying makes them attractive... until you go to try and redeem those miles. The inability to redeem miles for a one-way ticket is slightly frustrating, but at least they tell you upfront that you can't do it.

Now we move on to the lower rungs of, "I've flown them, but I'll do my best not to anymore." First up is American, which is slightly more preferable, if only because I have a mileage account that lets me buy one-way tickets. However, odd flight times, the near impossiblity of find direct flights, and the fact that they refuse to retire one of the oldest, most uncomfortable commercial planes out there (I'm looking at you, MD-80), means that once I find a way to use up my American miles? I'm calling it permanent quits with American, unless they have a turn around like Alaska.

At the bottom of the ladder is Continental. I flew them once, and will never (if I can help it) fly them again. "But Em, that's so harsh," you might say. "Only one flight? You can't judge an airline by one flight!" Ah, but my friends, when that one flight originates from their Hub of Hubs (Newark), which is so appallingly disorganized that you sit there for ten minutes while two ticketing agents try to work out how to handle a cash transaction for a baggage fee? And you've already walked past a level of crowded International Check-In lines (because of poor signage and you thought it was the domestic check-in level), only to find a set of near deserted International Check-In desks just one level down? And then your flight is delayed - but not delayed - but delayed again even more - but not delayed as much as they thought - but then you sit on the tarmac for forty-five minutes without word one from the flight attendants beyond the safety brief or the flight deck beyond "Flight attendants prepare for departure"? Not even a simple, "Folks, we've got a little bit of a back up, so it'll be a few minutes"?

Never again, Continental. PS: You might want to update your magazines that advertise you're getting the 787 in January. Because we'll be lucky if they get it to fly by then.

And now I move on to tackle the Northwelta conglomerate (I just can't bring myself to call it all Delta, I just can't). It's a complicated issue, which is why I've left it for last. I've flown Northwest a number of times - like United, they're solid, but not particularly stellar. I have a mileage account with them, and like United, they don't allow for the redemption of one-way tickets - unlike United, they don't tell you upfront, and in fact let you search for them under the "Redeem Miles" section, and then go on to charge you like normal which is just plain SNEAKY.

Now with the merger into Delta, things are an even bigger mess. For example, I will be flying Delta Delta (not Northwest Delta, like earlier this year) for the first time next week. I have been trying to log in to (a) see my itinerary and (b) upgrade my seat using my Northwest miles. The Northwest site, when I log in, does not show that I have any upcoming flights - because apparently they haven't gotten that far in the merger process. They also haven't gotten far enough to convert WorldPerks accounts into SkyMiles accounts, so I can't login that way over at the Delta website, which is unfortunate because even though their website gives you the option of logging in with SkyMiles, E-Ticket, Confirmation Code, or Credit Card number, it only gives you the input box for SkyMiles, and won't accept anything else. BLATANT LIES. The mobile site doesn't even go that far, although according to the regular site, it should. (I should also mention that back in March I purchased a ticket through Delta - although flew on NWA - then changed it which resulted in a credit to me that I have yet to receive. It's only $5, but it's kind of the principle of the matter - another strike against Delta.) I haven't even gotten on the plane, and I am already putting Delta at the level of Continental - once, and never again, because holy crap they don't know there's ants down their pants.

The lesson here? Domestically, smaller airlines are better. They have less sprawl to be distracted by, so they can really train their focus where it matters. The bigger the airline, the bigger the mess, and the worse my experiences have been.

Internationally? All it takes is a British accent offering to show you to your seat to make your flight. :D

Admit or Deny?

So, today I had a unique assignment at work. One of the Admissions Directors is going to New York next week, where she'll be presenting two applications and asking high school students and their parents to read them and suggest which one to admit and which one to deny. She asked myself and another current student employee to read them over, point out what we thought the students would notice about the applications, and what our decisions would be.

(It should be noted that both applications were Common Applications, which require an addition supplement that includes a 500 word "Why GW?" essay.)

Applicant Alpha had been involved in her high school forensics (debate) team for all four years of high school, and commented on the numerous awards the team had won. She was consistently an honor roll student, had a GPA above a 4.0 on a 4.0 scale, never had a grade below a B, SAT scores in the 700s for each section, and 4s and 5s on most of her AP tests. Her counselor recommendation was glowing. Her personal essay dealt with the idea of changing the world, and how her interpretation of that had changed after losing a number of people in her life; it was succinct, but well written and full of emotional depth. Her essay for the GW Supplement discussed her love of the city of Washington, and how GW's location in it is what prompted her to apply.

Applicant Beta had been involved with the French Club throughout high school, rising to become president; he had helped to boost interest in the club by starting monthly movie nights, and now as president was planning a trip to Canada. In comparison to Alpha, he was academically not as strong, but still a well-performing student - a GPA around a 3.6 out of 4.0, and ACT scores within the average range for the middle 50% of our admitted freshman from the year prior. His counselor recommendation was good, but not in any way outstanding. His essay dealt with his experience flying home from a volunteer experience and being classified as a "unaccompanied minor"; it was well written, but seemed to miss the point of the personal statement. His essay for the GW Supplement was longer than needed, but showed a vested interest not only in GW, but specifically in the Communications program.

It was a tough call to make. Until reading the supplemental essay, Alpha seemed like an outstanding choice; at the top of her class, long-term involvement in extracurriculars, the ability to clearly and maturely express herself in writing. But she literally went from a 90% to a 50% with her supplemental essay; it mentioned nothing about GW, and I found myself wishing there was an interview write-up attached to her application that would show she had some kind of interest in coming to GW. Beta on the other hand, while not necessarily an academic shining star, presented as the kind of kid you knew would come if accepted; his personal statement could have been more focused on his leadership roles in high school than his frustration with airline bureaucracy, but it still demonstrated an ability to communicate well (and was, at times, funny to read).

The other student and I ultimately agreed that we should admit Beta over Alpha. Apparently, the Admissions Committee agreed; Beta was offered admission for this fall, Alpha was waitlisted. She probably turned us down for Harvard.

It was a really interesting exercise to participate in, one that I'm glad for. Admissions is something I've really come to have a fascination with, even a passion for, here at GW. It's something I'm considering doing further on down the line, should the whole screenwriting thing not pan out. And being able to basically do a mini-committee is something I know I'll remember when I'm conducting interviews in the fall; I'll know better what the ADs look for, how they evaluate students. It's all very exciting.

I'm really going to miss this office when I have to leave.

Can't Stop the Signal.

Or, well, I suppose you can. It is my sad duty to report that Serenity, my beloved iPod, has expired. Is no more. Etc, etc, etc.

Which means that the time has come to stop lollygagging and finally pay off my credit card so I can get Funvee. But in the meantime, as a stopgap, I believe I might swing out to the Apple Store tomorrow morning and pick me up a shuffle. Since I'd always meant to as a supplement/alternative to the iPod Touch (which I mainly intend to use for video/apps). And I think I can handle the $79 +tax as a stopgap.

I need my music, y'all. Any ideas on what I should name it? Continue with the Iron Man theme and name it "Mark II" or "War Machine"? Or maybe "Batpod", in honor of That Other Comic Book Movie From Last Summer. Or "Archie" in honor of the That Other Comic Book Movie From Last Month.

Whaddaya think?

In Memoriam

I miss you, Grandma.

Everyone's noted how calm I seem to be in the face of losing a friend and my Grandmother within a week. It's not really a calm, it's more that I just don't feel present. It's not a matter of not thinking straight, I've just stopped thinking altogether. I think I'm afraid to think, because if I do, bad things will happen.

At least I got a five dollar credit from Delta when I changed my flight to stay a day longer.

And the way I see it now is that this is God's (or Whoever's) way of giving me a free pass for my senior year. I lost two people this year so I won't lose anyone next year.

Right?

Lux Aeterna

Life has a hilariously un-funny way of smacking you down sometimes. Take, for instance, my college career, which I'm fairly convinced is cursed. And not in the quirky "my baseball team loses every year I'm at school" kind of way. In the "someone I've loved has died" kind of way. Freshman year it was my Grandfather. Last year it was Edie.

Today it was Celia, one my very closest friends from high school. True to the times, I found out through Facebook and a voicemail. Then I spent half an hour scouring the internet for any information I could find.

I found the blog she'd kept with a group of other students on a senior oceanography trip to New Zealand. Her last entry was dated this past Wednesday, the 11th. There was a picture with it, where you can see her. She looks just like she did in high school, just like I remember her.

We haven't really seen each other since then. I'm bad at keeping in touch with people, I always have been. People drift apart. But I always believed that she'd be one of those people I'd drift back to, once all of this college business was over. She was one of the few from high school I was actually looking forward to reconnecting with.

I still have the sneakers I decorated with fabric pens at her house our Junior year. I remember making bubble tea one day over the summer, watching The Ring, and riding in her little tiny Civic that made a terrible noise because she still hadn't quite figured out how to drive a manual.

There will probably be more information tomorrow morning. I'll try to call her family later on in the day. Until then, I'll keep playing these memories on loop and try to hold back the sinking feeling that someone is going to die next year, too.

On Public Education (sort of)

I went to public school until I dropped into GW. It's a fact that I'm very proud of. Granted, the first nine years were at an alternative K-8 where each grade has two classes of 32 maximum (I "passed" from the eighth grade with a class of 59 students, many of whom I'd known since kindergarten). It was a wonderful experience to know all the teacher, administration, and a good majority of the students (and their parents). I got to learn science far beyond a normal middle school curriculum.

But it came with its own downsides: because of the small size of the school, the curriculum was based on a "Teach everyone as equals" ideal. Now, in elementary school, it's not so much of a problem. But in middle school, when kids intellects really start to develop, it can make or break some people's educations. Some teachers, like my science and language arts teachers, understood this, and paired stronger students with less inclined students to average things out. Others, like my math and social studies teachers, catered to the students who had the ability to excel and gave a minimal effort to those that couldn't. I was fortunate to be one of the more academically gifted students (albeit not necessarily academically driven ones), so I came out of that school with a great base of education. Others weren't so fortunate and - particularly in the case of math - were forced to repeat the same curriculum we'd spent three years learning, or take the remedial class before it, during our freshman year of high school.

Ah, high school. That was a jarring change. Still public, but no longer alternative, James A. Garfield High School was a bizarre mix of inner city neighborhood and district flagship school. 1700 students, give or take, across four grades. A failing school by the No Child Left Behind Act, but one that consistently turned out one of the highest numbers of National Merit Scholars in the state. It was a school praised for its magnet AP and Honors program, and demonized for its potentially racially-based achievement gap. It's a school that to this day I'm not necessarily proud I graduated from, but proud to have survived.

Granted, this is the Garfield of four years ago and longer. Things have changed since my graduation. A new principal has had the chance to establish himself. A new building has risen from the beloved ashes of the old one. Old, inefficient teachers have been weeded out (more or less) and have been replaced by younger teacher who are driven and committed to make a change.

Teachers like Amber. I was first introduced to her at a family function, as a friend of my cousin's. It wasn't until the third or fourth time we'd met that I found out she was a teacher, and had in fact done her student teaching time at Garfield during my senior year. She was in her mid-twenties at the time, was teaching at a public high school in a near-suburban area on the northern outskirts of the city, but there was a fire in her eyes when she talked about Garfield, the same fire I feel. She was determined to get back to that school and do some good, because she knew that she could, she knew she could reach those students and get them to learn if someone would just give her the chance. That fall, she was back at Garfield, and every time I ran into someone who worked there or was a student, I'd ask about her. They'd all gush about what a breath of fresh air she was, how wonderful it was to have a teacher like her in that school.

And it made me think. It's made me think for almost three years now. I've got this dream of moving to Hollywood, of becoming a screenwriter, of winning an Oscar. But at some level, I know it's kind of a pipe dream. And now that I'm preparing for that (not quite so) scary part of my life where I actually have to start thinking about what I'm going to do once I leave this squishy haven called College, I've started thinking... everything I've planned on is very me-oriented. And I suppose that in our society, that's okay. But I can't help but feel a little bit like a spoiled brat, like I owe something.

What if that something is to follow Amber's example, go back to Garfield, and do my damnedest to make difference at a school that needs it? The thought has crossed my mind before. If was going to teach anywhere, that would be the school. My mother told me that at one of the events she'd attended recently at the school (she's also an alum), someone had remarked that there were a lot of alumni on the teaching staff. I wondered if it was because at some level, we all feel a sense of duty to try and make the school just that much better than when we were there, that if we put in a little effort, we might raise it a little closer to meeting requirements or get the students that much closer to closing that (definitely racially based, trust me) achievement gap.

I figure I'll apply to the MFA programs I've been planning to. But I might throw in a couple of Education programs while I'm at it. You never know. I hate teenagers, but I might love teaching them.

EXT. FSK PORCH - LATE MORNING

The porch of an older generation residence hall at GWU, covered in red terra cotta tiling. It is bordered by a low wrought iron fence, separated from the sidewalk by a small flower garden that looks like empty dirt beds in late winter. EMMA, early twenties, a student and resident of the building steps outside from the double doors. She wears sneakers, fitted jeans, a sweatshirt two sizes too big for her, and a pair of brightly colored studio headphones connected to an mp3 player in her pocket. In one hand she holds a cup of coffee, in the other a cigarette and cheap plastic lighter. Standing off to one side of the porch, she puts the cigarette in her mouth, lights it, holding the lighter up a little longer than normal. Finally she exhales and leans against the front wall of the building, watching people walk by on the sidewalk. They are dressed for colder weather -- hats, scarves, gloves, wool coats and puffy parkas. Some walk in pairs, some walk alone. On the street, a Prius goes by. She smiles to herself, takes another drag, exhales, then takes a sip of coffee.

Snow starts to fall in tiny flakes, blown about by the wind. She watches them float to the ground and disappear. It's cold enough for them to fall, but too warm for them to stick.

EMMA
Four to six inches my ass.

A male STUDENT comes up from the sidewalk, looks at her. Emma doesn't notice.

STUDENT
What are you listening to?

Emma pushes the headphpones off her ears and looks at him.

EMMA
Hm?

STUDENT
What are you listening to?

She pushes one headphone against her ear to listen to it.

EMMA
Coldplay. "Cemeteries of London".

STUDENT
Nice.

EMMA
Random playlist. But it kind of fits the mood.

The student looks at a loss, pulls out his ID card, and swipes into the building. Emma looks back at the street. The snow is falling a bit harder, but still not sticking. Another Prius goes by. She ashes her cigarette and smiles.

EMMA
That's two.

EXT. FSK PORCH - FIVE MINUTES LATER
The cigarette is shorter, but not nearly finished. Emma takes a sip of coffee as the Student from earlier emerges from the building.

STUDENT
Same one?

Again, Emma pushes the headphones off her ears.

EMMA
What?

STUDENT
The cigarette. Is that the same one?

EMMA
Yeah. American Spirit. I like them because they last twice as long. Gives me more time to think.

STUDENT
Oh, you're one of those intellectual smokers.

EMMA
It's not a habit. This is the first one I've had in months. I only do it when I need a few minutes to clear my head. Means I can actually enjoy the time.

STUDENT
Well, uh... you got another one?

EMMA
Sorry, my last one.

STUDENT
Oh. Well, hey, you know, it's cool. Listen, I gotta get to class, but maybe I'll catch you out here again. Clearing your head and what not.

EMMA
Maybe. Maybe not.

The Student walks slowly down to the sidewalk. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, turns back to look up at her.

STUDENT
My name's Ryan, by the way.

EMMA
Nice to meet you, Ryan.

She puts her headphones back on, takes another drag on the cigarette.

EMMA
You should probably get going. Don't want to be late for class.

RYAN (STUDENT)
Right, yeah.

He walks slowly off down the sidewalk. Emma rolls her eyes and laughs a little to herself. At the other end of the block, she sees a 1960s Mustang roll up to the light, painted a tomato red-orange. She makes a small sound of disgust.

EMMA
You don't deserve that car if you're gonna paint it that color.

She looks at the cigarette in her hand. It's burned down nearly to the filter. She takes one last drag then puts it out in the pot of sand next to the door already filled with dozens of other cigarette butts. Exhaling, she pulls her ID card out of her pocket and swipes into the building. Outside, the snow starts to fall a little harder.

*The preceding is a writing exercise and only loosely based on my morning.

Late night cooking adventures!

So, realising around midnight that it would be good to eat some food, I had the challenge of scrounging around my kitchen trying to think of just what I exactly I could eat (since it's been... quite possibly a month since I've last gone grocery shopping, and I desperately need to find the time to go again). After a quick inventory, I end up whipping up a couscous salad with red onion, carrots, and chicken, seasoned with garlic, basil, and cilantro (God bless the frozen herb cubes from Trader Joe's).

Delicious, I think nutritious, and (most importantly), goes well with hot sauce.

Who says twenty something's cooking has to be all Easy Mac and bacon? (Sorry, Dylz, couldn't resist.)

New random movie ideas!

Who says malevolent organizations can't be run out of a place like Seattle? Makes sense, doesn't it? All the benefits of an urban center, a major shipping intersection, next door to Microsoft and other major industries (*cough Boeing cough*), but not so high profile that you go "Well, DUH, they'd be there" like New York City or London or Hong Kong.

If I ran a secret company that arranged for people to disappear, I'd totally base it in a place like Seattle. Or, y'know, Vancouver. Someplace with a view of something that's not New Jersey.

In somewhat related news, I seem to have a thing for women as remorseless-but-not assassins as characters in the things I write. Huh. Wonder where that comes from.

Also, all my CSI watching might pay off in this one. It's shaping up to be a crime thriller/Bond-esque/I'm not quite sure thing.

The Magic of Outlining.

Normally, I hate outlines. Hate, hate, hate, hate. I'm a "let's start writing and see where it takes me" kind of person. Stories, papers, whatever. Granted, it's usually because I don't really know where I'm going or want to go with what I'm writing, so I can't really do an outline.

Now, the same was pretty much true for my script writing. See: my three angels and the end of the world shenanigans that's been percolating in my head for well over a year with very little to show for it except some quirky characters and a few pages of dialogue that goes nowhere. Until one day in my screenwriting class when my professor was talking about how absolutely critical the outlining process is, and how it helps prevent writer's block (like, when he gets it, it's because there's something not quite right with the original outline, but once he fixes it he's off and running).

So I thought, "... well, what the hell, it's not like I've got anything to lose." So I sat. And I wrote. Of course, I'd already written the opening ten and a half pages, so I started with putting that into outline form. With that done, I worked out the rest of Act I, then moved on to Act II, and then Act III, and 7 pages and 50 scenes later, I had the whole story laid out, start to finish. In the end, I learned that:
- The character I had always, always, always since day one seen as being dead (as in, his death being the catalyst for everything) did not have to be
- One character I intended to be a sidenote pretty much ends up saving the day (apparently I really wanted to write my own theology, because I've decided that a four year old girl is a potential Messiah)
- Three characters I never intended to die, will. Pretty terribly. Two of them are Angels, one of whom will sacrifice themself (which I so didn't see coming), the other will be punished (which I did).

Lesson learned: outlining lets you get all those, "Oh, snap, I should do xyz!" moments out at an early enough stage where you can tell if it's going to fuck everything up. And then lets you keep writing without pausing for months going, "Well, shit, where do I go from here?"

tech tech blah blah

So, it recently dawned on me that in two months, the Apple Care plan on Macgasm will expire. Which means it will be three years old.

How time flies.

And of course, the first thought that crosses my mind? "I really should replace the battery once last time while I still can for free."

The second? "Once my computer is officially obsolete (because, you know, the fact that they don't even make my model anymore isn't official enough), what can I replace it with?"

Here's what I came up with:

- A Mac Mini to manage all my media and do all my photography work on. My TV can double as a monitor (I already use it as a second one some of the time now), and I have the necessary cables to hook it up (mmm, DVI-HDMI cable...)
- A Macbook Air to maintain portability and word processing/scriptwriting functionality, since I won't need a heavier duty computer to run Photoshop, as that's what the Mac Mini would be for. Although I have to say that I really do enjoy the 15.4" screen, and anything smaller (or bigger) seems uncomfortable. But who knows, the next go-round they may very well intro a new line of Airs that are of that width.

All in all, it would probably cost me the same as I paid for Macgasm alone. Which means none of this will be happening in the near future, unless I win the lotto or pull an Anna Nicole Smith and marry a rich old man on his deathbed. Hopefully by the time I have the money, Apple's come out with a tablet notebook. That would just make my life so much happier.

But first comes the iPod touch. Which will hopefully happen sometime around spring break (I'm determined to have my credit card paid off, or damn near close - like under $100 - by then). I think I've settled on calling it "Funvee" (since it is "The funnest iPod ever" *shudder*), and having "The humdrumvee is back there" engraved on the back.

Also, in non-Apple geek news, I've decided to switch over to Google Reader. So far so good.

AND in non-tech related geek news, Muse is the most amazing band I've discovered since Daft Punk. Like, seriously. I've been listening to "Take a Bow" constantly, and finally downloaded the album it's from along with one other. And have listened to nothing else (except for Philip Glass's score for Koyanisqaatsi). And what do I have to thank for it?

Mmmm...

2 TB.

I want it. Only $299! How far we've come.

Oh, and in case you didn't hear, I got a new neighbor last week. The whole nation decided to throw him and his family a housewarming party.


Isn't that sweet?

Racism Isn't Over

I decided to stay in to watch the concert on HBO, and I'm glad I did. Because I've found myself to be depressingly cynical about the whole thing. I honestly think it's because the majority of the pairings they had were one white and one black (the only two non-whites or non-blacks they've had were Kal Penn and George Lopez and SURPRISE, they put them together). And while sometimes the pairings worked, like John Legend and James Taylor, they were still overshadowed by that sense of token "everybody getting along" that I honestly can't stand.

This is not the vision of America I had when Obama was elected. And so to see it presented this way with such gusto is just... it's honestly breaking my heart a little bit. But what's sadder is that I'm SO upset about it. In all honesty, race for me is almost never an issue. Because I've grown up with such a diverse background and group of friends, it's not something I think about. But when a program like this keeps hitting me over the head with their "LOOK WE LIKE RACIAL HARMONY!" message... I can't help but notice it every time, and each time it makes me feel worse.

My hope for an Obama Nation is one of multi-racial and multi-cultural fusion, not just a healing of the divide between whites and blacks. This beauty of this country is that it is a rainbow of heritage, not just a grayscale. And people need to recognize that to move past our differences as an obstacle, we have to accept and embrace them, not white-wash them (no pun intended) into non-existence. That is what Obama represents to me as he climbs the steps to take the oath as President of these United States of America - a chance at perfecting our union, like he said, not hiding behind the illusion of what we want it to be.

We've got a long ways to go before we reach that "post-racial" era everyone keeps talking about. Today was nothing but proof of that.