In Defense of Coffee
Circa 2009. A time of quarks, uranium, satellite universities, steel, skyscrapers, instant messaging, online social networking, global collaboration, and multitasking. And caffeine.
Or Coffee, if you will.
Coffee is more than just a beverage. In times such as these, where we are all trying to be super human, perfect and accomplished, Coffee is a lifeline. It is the blood that runs in our veins. It is the green dough that sits in Starbucks' vaults. It is also a propagandist tool, for we all know how noble Starbucks is, and by drinking their coffee, you are helping them help the needy in Africa who they cheated out of the fair price of beans in the first place.
It is a cruel mistress and an impudent servant who knows it is much needed. It is a disease and a cure. It is a much loved and hated flavor. It is a color and a culture. It is the identity and pride of nations. It is a harvest and a celebration for the farmer, the plantation worker, the mother who gives their day and night just to see those magical beans on precious branches. Tea's got all its royal patronage, but its coffee that has all us masses rooting for it. It is a reticent, subtle activist, making you feel good when you drink Fair Trade coffee from your local coffee shop.
Coffee is the illusionist emperor of a kingdom of over-achievers, a Pope of a religion of caffeine addiction. And I am here to spread its gospel. I believe in Coffee.
It is my addiction, my lifestyle, my social tool, my midnight-oil burner, and my stress reliever. Coffee is to me as make-up is to an actress. Coffee is a part of identity. When I walk to my lab and classes with a cup of Coffee in my hand, I feel like all those working people crowding the subways and roads every morning at 8 a.m. with cups of coffee in their hands, their car cup-holders. I feel like I have a purpose too. Without Coffee, I would not have my friends. Without Coffee, I would not have my boyfriend and many of our subsequent dates. If you think I sound like some sort of an eccentric artist, with Coffee as its muse, you are right. Coffee is my Mona Lisa, whose cryptic charm I like to contemplate and savor with all my senses. Just contemplating Coffee, in all its elegance and fragrance gives me calm. And energy. And thoughts. Ideas. All at once. My brain is on fire and my body at ease. If I sell my life away for something, it would be Coffee. If I invest in anything before the world economy crashes, it would be Coffee.
If you say you don't like Coffee, then you have never loved, never lived, never taken a risk. Find your nearest local, Fair Trade Coffee shop before the world ends.
[Post begun: 7/22/08, finished: 10/03/09]
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Challenging Beginnings
I've recently decided to learn Japanese. Now, even though I speak two languages, I think I am somewhat linguistically challenged. I find it very difficult to remember accents and syntax. The only reason I am now fluent in both languages is that I started learning them from a very young age. Also, most research on the brain and learning patterns shows that children find it easier to learn languages than adults. You have more capacity in that region of the brain for learning until a certain age, and then it starts declining.
With that said, I do have motivation to learn. Hopefully that will take me through this colossal task. Setting a goal should be helpful, right?
I think 1 hour every Saturday and Sunday is realistic and should at least get me started until I can take regular classes in Japanese, with an instructor and everything.
I also think I should use some sort of a progress scale (defined by me, of course) to keep me on my toes. [I put recognition of alphabet after speaking some words because I learn well by imitation. I can learn how to say a few words by hearing them easier than I can recognize the alphabet.]
So, my progess is 0 right now. When I can say some words, we'll move to 1. Being able to recognize and say common sentences like "Hello, how are you?" and such would be 2 and 3. Recognizing the alphabet, 4. Understanding grammer, 5. Understanding spoken Japanese 7, understanding anime (other Japanese media) without assistance and speaking conversationally, 8. Reading Japanese, 9. Talking in Japanese, 10.
Suggestions? Ideas?
Oh yeah, that bar is probably going to stay at 0 for a while. But just curse away and chip away at it!
With that said, I do have motivation to learn. Hopefully that will take me through this colossal task. Setting a goal should be helpful, right?
I think 1 hour every Saturday and Sunday is realistic and should at least get me started until I can take regular classes in Japanese, with an instructor and everything.
I also think I should use some sort of a progress scale (defined by me, of course) to keep me on my toes. [I put recognition of alphabet after speaking some words because I learn well by imitation. I can learn how to say a few words by hearing them easier than I can recognize the alphabet.]
So, my progess is 0 right now. When I can say some words, we'll move to 1. Being able to recognize and say common sentences like "Hello, how are you?" and such would be 2 and 3. Recognizing the alphabet, 4. Understanding grammer, 5. Understanding spoken Japanese 7, understanding anime (other Japanese media) without assistance and speaking conversationally, 8. Reading Japanese, 9. Talking in Japanese, 10.
Suggestions? Ideas?
Oh yeah, that bar is probably going to stay at 0 for a while. But just curse away and chip away at it!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Eternal Sunshine
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.
- Excerpt from Elosia to Abelard by Alexander Pope
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.
- Excerpt from Elosia to Abelard by Alexander Pope
Monday, September 28, 2009
iDance
Originally posted on Facebook on April 10, 2009.
I am an enthusiast. I am an amateur. I like to express myself using my body because sometimes, there just aren’t the right words. This is what I call Dance. I watch others create stories and magic from their movements. This is also what I call Dance. I dance for myself, not for others. Not once have I danced on stage.
Most of the dance I do is improvised, learned through observation and imitation. For me, dance is always accompanied by music— on the CD or the instrument or in my head. I mould my movements to represent my thoughts, my unspoken words. Through dance, I make my own language. And you know what, people understand it. Everyone understands this wild, unstructured language with no syntax, no grammer, no rules. I am a dancer. I was born a dancer. I am a dancer to you? It doesn’t matter.
Bollywood, as crazy as it is, is powerful because of its integration of dance into the storytelling. Through Indian movies, I saw dance used to express emotions, describe events, and convey stories and social constructs. I saw the symbolic power of dance. That words can be translated to movement. That I could speak without speaking. That I can use my body to express excitement, joy, anger, and sadness. This is my dance. It is an expression of my thoughts, moods, and emotions— it is an expression of me. I express joy by stretching out my body completely until my toes tingle and my back cracks. When I feel free, I spread out my arms, turn my head towards the sky and close my eyes— I am a bird and I know no limits. I express excitement by jumping on alternate foot, moving my hips from side to side, and my hands up and down. I express confusion by spinning around in circles until I am dizzy. Also, just for the record, I find whirling Dervishes really cool.
I dance anywhere and everywhere except the stage. I have danced on sidewalks, at formals, in the middle of the road, in my room, in my bathroom, in car seats, and even in trees. As long as a place is relatively empty of people, I can dance in it. When my body isn’t dancing, my mind is. Dance is my indulgence, my guilty pleasure— something I wouldn’t mind going to Hell for.
I am a fuller person because I dance. Because of dance, I have a greater appreciation of music. Because of dance, I have a greater sensitivity to emotions. And because of dance, I have a relatively fit body despite my staple diet of grease. I couldn’t dance to save my life. But I sure could make a living as street performer that dances.
iDance, therefore I am.
I am an enthusiast. I am an amateur. I like to express myself using my body because sometimes, there just aren’t the right words. This is what I call Dance. I watch others create stories and magic from their movements. This is also what I call Dance. I dance for myself, not for others. Not once have I danced on stage.
Most of the dance I do is improvised, learned through observation and imitation. For me, dance is always accompanied by music— on the CD or the instrument or in my head. I mould my movements to represent my thoughts, my unspoken words. Through dance, I make my own language. And you know what, people understand it. Everyone understands this wild, unstructured language with no syntax, no grammer, no rules. I am a dancer. I was born a dancer. I am a dancer to you? It doesn’t matter.
Bollywood, as crazy as it is, is powerful because of its integration of dance into the storytelling. Through Indian movies, I saw dance used to express emotions, describe events, and convey stories and social constructs. I saw the symbolic power of dance. That words can be translated to movement. That I could speak without speaking. That I can use my body to express excitement, joy, anger, and sadness. This is my dance. It is an expression of my thoughts, moods, and emotions— it is an expression of me. I express joy by stretching out my body completely until my toes tingle and my back cracks. When I feel free, I spread out my arms, turn my head towards the sky and close my eyes— I am a bird and I know no limits. I express excitement by jumping on alternate foot, moving my hips from side to side, and my hands up and down. I express confusion by spinning around in circles until I am dizzy. Also, just for the record, I find whirling Dervishes really cool.
I dance anywhere and everywhere except the stage. I have danced on sidewalks, at formals, in the middle of the road, in my room, in my bathroom, in car seats, and even in trees. As long as a place is relatively empty of people, I can dance in it. When my body isn’t dancing, my mind is. Dance is my indulgence, my guilty pleasure— something I wouldn’t mind going to Hell for.
I am a fuller person because I dance. Because of dance, I have a greater appreciation of music. Because of dance, I have a greater sensitivity to emotions. And because of dance, I have a relatively fit body despite my staple diet of grease. I couldn’t dance to save my life. But I sure could make a living as street performer that dances.
iDance, therefore I am.
Seasons of Our Lives
[Thanks, to Yee-May.]
People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.
When someone is in your life for a reason, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a season, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.
Lifetime relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
BrianA. "Drew" Chalker
[RIP BZK 09/19/2009]
People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.
When someone is in your life for a reason, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a season, because your turn has come to share, grow or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.
Lifetime relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
BrianA. "Drew" Chalker
[RIP BZK 09/19/2009]
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