Sometimes I wish I came from a country that wasn't so, well, well-known.
Not that I don't love my country -- you bet I do. But because America is everywhere in the news, because American films & music are broadcast so widely, everyone here seems to think they know something about the place. Everyone has an opinion. And you can't really blame them; for several decades, we've been a leading force in world economy and politics, and it's probably a good idea to have your eye on the biggest kid on the playground. But in the minority are those who have experienced the U.S. first-hand; the rest derive their (sometimes bafflingly) strident beliefs through the second- and third-hand cultural artifacts of media and news reports. And it's especially those who seem to take America's apparent imperviousness as license for mean potshots.
I sometimes imagine how nice it'd be to respond to that "so where are you from?" question with, I dunno, "Tobago." Not that nobody knows Tobago; it's just that they're bound to have limited knowledge of the place and wouldn't dream, upon hearing its name, of commencing to lecture you about it.
Or as my stepmom, Sarah, once mused, wouldn't it be fun to say you're from Australia? Most people like Australia -- they think of sun and beer and surfers and friendly people.
Of course every country has its dark side, Australia included. I just sometimes fantasize about claiming affiliation with one that isn't so overexposed.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Kitty want some peanut butter?
(Or alternatively, "Can I has kofee kup?")
Since 30 minutes isn't really a sufficient amount of time to involve myself in a constructive project before my next appointment, I think I'll take this time to blog about cats, instead.
Specifically, my mom's cat, Lucy. Lucy has always been a little crazed -- crazed for attention, crazed for food, crazed to get outside, etc. -- and like any cat, she's accustomed to equate the clinking of silverware on a dish with the possibility of forthcoming yumminess.
So my question is: Do cats have object permanence? That is, do they still recognize an object for what it is, even when it's out of sight?
See, lately (oh, who am I kidding, for the last 18 years) I can't stand at the kitchen counter without Lucy making every attempt to trip my feet in an effort to obtain her share of what I'm preparing. I can be doing the dishes, and she's still crazily clawing my pant leg to get some of whatever it is I am certainly keeping from her.
I have taken to trying to amend this by actually showing her my countertop secrets. She stands there on the floor, "mreep! mreep! mreep!" and I, without setting anything down, lean way over to present her with the spoon and coffee cup that I am manipulating up there. She inspects it. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Then looks up at me accusingly: "Come on," her look insists, "what do you really have?" I turn back to the counter, and she starts trilling eagerly again.
I put the lid on the peanut butter jar and turn to put it back in the fridge -- only to trip on the cat.
"Dammit, Lucy!" I mutter, trying to retain both balance and jar. "Mreep!" she demands. So I lean down for her to get a better look at the closed peanut butter. Sniff, sniff, sniff. "Nikki, this is totally uninteresting." "Yes, it is! And that's all I've got up here!"
So back and forth, back and forth she follows me across the kitchen floor. Counter, sink, fridge, coffee pot. I always show her what it is I just pulled out, yet she never equates this with the strange goings-on beyond her level of sight. Am I right in calling this a lack of object permanence? She observes me returning a boring item to the countertop, but as soon as she can't see that it's the same boring item, she imagines it's something new.
Her nagging can't be due to simple hunger -- she just ate, and there's even food left in her bowl. It's not attention -- I pick her up to snuggle her, and she just twists to get a look at the counter. I hold her closer to the glass of beer; she inspects it; I put her down; she resumes frantically trying to see what's up there.
Am I a bad catsitter? Are these unmistakable signs of some need that I, in my incompetence and neglect, am not divining?
Help me, O Internetworldland!
Since 30 minutes isn't really a sufficient amount of time to involve myself in a constructive project before my next appointment, I think I'll take this time to blog about cats, instead.
Specifically, my mom's cat, Lucy. Lucy has always been a little crazed -- crazed for attention, crazed for food, crazed to get outside, etc. -- and like any cat, she's accustomed to equate the clinking of silverware on a dish with the possibility of forthcoming yumminess.
So my question is: Do cats have object permanence? That is, do they still recognize an object for what it is, even when it's out of sight?
See, lately (oh, who am I kidding, for the last 18 years) I can't stand at the kitchen counter without Lucy making every attempt to trip my feet in an effort to obtain her share of what I'm preparing. I can be doing the dishes, and she's still crazily clawing my pant leg to get some of whatever it is I am certainly keeping from her.
I have taken to trying to amend this by actually showing her my countertop secrets. She stands there on the floor, "mreep! mreep! mreep!" and I, without setting anything down, lean way over to present her with the spoon and coffee cup that I am manipulating up there. She inspects it. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Then looks up at me accusingly: "Come on," her look insists, "what do you really have?" I turn back to the counter, and she starts trilling eagerly again.
I put the lid on the peanut butter jar and turn to put it back in the fridge -- only to trip on the cat.
"Dammit, Lucy!" I mutter, trying to retain both balance and jar. "Mreep!" she demands. So I lean down for her to get a better look at the closed peanut butter. Sniff, sniff, sniff. "Nikki, this is totally uninteresting." "Yes, it is! And that's all I've got up here!"
So back and forth, back and forth she follows me across the kitchen floor. Counter, sink, fridge, coffee pot. I always show her what it is I just pulled out, yet she never equates this with the strange goings-on beyond her level of sight. Am I right in calling this a lack of object permanence? She observes me returning a boring item to the countertop, but as soon as she can't see that it's the same boring item, she imagines it's something new.
Her nagging can't be due to simple hunger -- she just ate, and there's even food left in her bowl. It's not attention -- I pick her up to snuggle her, and she just twists to get a look at the counter. I hold her closer to the glass of beer; she inspects it; I put her down; she resumes frantically trying to see what's up there.
Am I a bad catsitter? Are these unmistakable signs of some need that I, in my incompetence and neglect, am not divining?
Help me, O Internetworldland!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
President Barack Hussein Obama!
Wow. Watching his inaugural address, all I could do was stare gape-jawed and think, "This is our president? Him?? This intelligent, rational, inspirational, humble, idealistic, powerful example of the American Dream?"
I can't believe it. We have a leader we can be proud of. Of course it won't be easy; I don't envy the guy the herculean task -- check that, mountain of tasks -- before him. And of course his simple assumption of office isn't the solution to our problems: I hope not too many Americans are naive enough to believe that, like the tidy happy ending to a movie. But! I can think of no better mind and figure to lead us through this. There was not a single statement he made that I didn't either congratulate him on or cheer him through.
Hot damn, our president is frigging Pericles.
Gobama.
I can't believe it. We have a leader we can be proud of. Of course it won't be easy; I don't envy the guy the herculean task -- check that, mountain of tasks -- before him. And of course his simple assumption of office isn't the solution to our problems: I hope not too many Americans are naive enough to believe that, like the tidy happy ending to a movie. But! I can think of no better mind and figure to lead us through this. There was not a single statement he made that I didn't either congratulate him on or cheer him through.
Hot damn, our president is frigging Pericles.
Gobama.
Separation of Church and State?
What's this? We still have a prayer during the Inauguration? So we're excluding all non-Christian (or non-religious) Americans from this ceremony?
Now the pastor is reciting the Lord's Prayer. That's fine in church or at home, but not at one of the most important -- if not the most important -- governmental ceremonies. I wonder if he'll place his hand on the Bible now.
Hm. However well-meant, I find this inappropriate.
Now the pastor is reciting the Lord's Prayer. That's fine in church or at home, but not at one of the most important -- if not the most important -- governmental ceremonies. I wonder if he'll place his hand on the Bible now.
Hm. However well-meant, I find this inappropriate.
Inauguration Day!
Oooo, wish I could be there! Berti will be home soon and we'll open a bottle of bubbly... thank goodness we're six hours ahead of Washington so I can watch it after work!
(Giddy noises! ngeeeeeeeeeee....!)
(Giddy noises! ngeeeeeeeeeee....!)
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Berti in the desert
We've still got to get the rest of our trip pictures organized and uploaded... but I just like this one. (You cutie!)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Incredible Greece pictures
Feeling in need of some sunshine? Check out the pics from our Greece trip from last August! Shauna has posted a lot of them online, including new albums of Sounion, Santorini, and Crete. Gooooorgeous...
Friday, January 09, 2009
At least I got to see him at Christmas
Haven't really had the heart to blog much this last week, since my grampa Bill died on Saturday. It was weird and sudden and shocking. I don't think I really believe he's gone, yet. He was just sitting in his chair reading the book Shauna gave him for Christmas.
He can't be gone, he hasn't finished his book yet.
I can't think about it. I have to go distract myself now.
He can't be gone, he hasn't finished his book yet.
I can't think about it. I have to go distract myself now.
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