tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186594792008-07-21T10:20:40.565-04:00She is able...L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comBlogger404125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-8786894046234952008-07-20T22:02:00.004-04:002008-07-20T22:19:56.627-04:00Cool Things on the WebI've had a tummy ache since Friday afternoon; it has not been fun, believe you me. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don't you love that phrase!</span> Anyway, to distract myself I've followed up on what a couple of friends of mine have found on the web and they are indeed pretty cool.<br /><br />1. One of my friends has this <a href="http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/?fbid=bywTL">website</a> as her gchat status. I don't know anything about this guy Matt, but it's pretty cool what's he and his partner have done. Definitely check it out...one of the best music videos I've seen in a while.<br /><br />2. The Rover found this <a href="http://catfishandcollards.blogspot.com/2008/07/horrible-is-great.html">site</a> and it is pretty awesome, I have to say. You forget that Hollywood is filled with creative types that just got covered with marketing grime. Take that grime off and real kooky genius emerges.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-32282657083690344282008-07-12T18:13:00.002-04:002008-07-12T18:21:51.101-04:00RIP Tony Snow<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/Tony%20Snow%20from%20breitbart.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 198px;" src="http://www.extrememortman.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/12/Tony%20Snow%20from%20breitbart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I just read that Tony Snow died of cancer today. He was only 53 years old. That is really sad. Though he worked for a complete idiot, he was actually very smart and SO funny! Did you hear him on "<a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=7694994">Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me!</a>"? Check it out. My heart goes out to his family.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-65850697944215921012008-07-10T11:22:00.005-04:002008-07-12T18:36:11.869-04:00Why Can't We All Just Get Along?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/07/10/timestopics/jessejackson_190.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 157px; height: 216px;" src="http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/2008/07/10/timestopics/jessejackson_190.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>I'm not saying Fox News did the right thing...<span style="font-style: italic;">when do they EVER do the right thing?...</span>by broadcasting the private comments, but come on, Jesse. You just sound like a hater. You may think <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Obama</span></span> was being condescending, but he got a standing ovation after that speech. And you look even worse because you had to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/10/us/politics/10jackson.html?ref=politics"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pre</span></span>-apologize</a> for what you said. Tacky, just tacky.<br /><br />Sour grapes is not a good look.<br /><br />In other crazy news, I found out last night that Wendy William's memoir is going to be turned into a movie starring...<a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/363994/robin_givens_queen_of_media_movie_about.html">Robin Givens</a>. There are no words.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">ADDENDUM</span>: This <a href="http://www.theroot.com/id/47225">article</a> from <span style="font-style: italic;">The Root</span> says exactly what I think about the whole Jesse debacle, plus a bunch more. It's really good.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-11177201766975928242008-07-08T15:55:00.003-04:002008-07-08T15:59:42.508-04:00Love the One You're WithI may be single right now, but at least I'm not dating this douche!<br /><br />P.S. The man you see is not the actual Dimitri, he's an actor lip syncing the message. It's wicked funny.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZ83use8YE8&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dZ83use8YE8&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Here's Part Two...<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/j7epDIrJImU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j7epDIrJImU&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-47675498638123483772008-07-05T21:48:00.005-04:002008-07-05T22:55:29.562-04:00Things Are HappeningI didn't realized how long it's been since I've posted anything at all on the site. Plenty of stuff has been happening to me, but I've been busy deciding if I wanted to blog about it. I've decided some things I will talk about, one thing I won't.<br /><br />First off, I've lost 4 pounds in the last three weeks with Weight Watchers. I wasn't overweight by any stretch of the imagination, but my body mass index was at the maximum for my height. Obesity runs in my family and I didn't want to rest on my laurels, so to speak. Just because I'm not obese doesn't mean that I'm fine. So I decided to get help getting disciplined about what I eat. It's amazing how hard it is to stay conscious about food...it's very, very hard. Half the time I want to eat something really bad out of defiance. Until I realize I'd only be cutting off my nose to spite my face. I wish I was losing more faster, but four pounds is nothing to sneeze at. One pound is the weight of four sticks of butter! So I've shed 16 sticks of butter in three weeks.<br /><br />Secondly, I just finished watching the entire first season of "<a href="http://www.amctv.com/originals/madmen/">Mad Men</a>" on On Demand. Damn, that show is good. I watched it marathon-style in the day before July 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> and today. Every time I see Jon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hamm</span>, I melt a little inside. That man is fine inside and out. I can't wait for the Season 2 opener at the end of July.<br /><br />Thirdly, I hosted a great July 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> BBQ at the place where I'm house sitting this summer. It was an intimate gathering and it was great. Lots of good food, good drinking, and good conversation.<br /><br />Fourth, I actually have a lot of work to do. I wanted to take it easy on with regards to "resume-building" work, but alas, I've gotten some great gigs. It requires a great deal of discipline, but it's good practice for me.<br /><br />Fifth, I ran a race a couple of weeks ago. It felt good. I've been running more often anyway in pursuit of my weight loss goal. The race reminded me of the best part of running. They served us beers at 10am!<br /><br />And finally, I'm embarking on a new adventure. It's a bit of a surprise that I'm here, but it feels good. We'll see...L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-29743884944254353412008-06-21T23:27:00.005-04:002008-06-21T23:39:56.697-04:00My Dog Has Better Healthcare!I got the most bizarre phone call last night. I was shocked and pleased by it at the same time. Then I got sad. Let me explain...<br /><br />Remember in my last post when I mentioned that I dealt with a <a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/causal-claims-from-correlational-data.html">medical emergency</a> for Ella? It turned out not be an emergency, but of course I didn't know that at the time. To deal with it, I went to the pet emergency room at <a href="http://www.mspca.org/site/PageServer?pagename=aamc_pagewrapperbutton"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Angell</span> Memorial</a> Medical Center, one of the largest and best animal hospitals in the Northeast.<br /><br />First of all, let me say that I have never been in a human ER this nice. It was a wide open space, with plenty of comfortable seating, a well-stocked vending machine area with hot and cold food choices, plenty of water fountains, and everyone was friendly and patient. I waited at most 20 minutes to see someone. All the vets had their own laptops as well as pagers that allowed them to connect with everyone else in the hospital and update patients' files in real time. Amazing!<br /><br />When we checked in, I had to fill out a form that asked for Ella's real vet's name, so I provided it. Last night I got a call from her vet saying that the hospital had called to report that Ella had been there. The vet was just calling to "follow up."<br /><br />Can you believe it? It's always been my responsibility to contact my primary care physician when I've been in the ER. And never have I received a "follow up" call...again, my responsibility.<br /><br />Why is it, in the richest country in the world, my dog has better health care than I do? And why am I still grateful for what I've got?L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-21218277907125530532008-06-19T20:53:00.003-04:002008-06-19T21:26:53.241-04:00Causal Claims from Correlational DataThe title of this post is a statistical concept. One of the mantras of social science research is that a person cannot claim to have proven one thing causes another when they have only presented evidence of a relationship between two variables. An example often used is the statement: Ice cream causes more crime. Just because there is a relationship between these two things...<span style="font-style: italic;">both things increase in the summer</span>...doesn't mean that one <span style="font-style: italic;">causes</span> another.<br /><br />I say all that to say that I've had a very rough week emotionally. I have missed TM like I missed him 2 1/2 months ago. I have gone over old emails, old pictures, reviewed good times and bad in my head like a movie. I have wanted him back and wanted to never see him again.<br /><br />Simultaneously, I have gone to dinner with friends, done research, seen a movie with my sister, looked for a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bartending</span> gig for the summer, facilitated a conference, helped a friend move, and took care of Ella through a medical emergency. So it's not like I'm sitting around moping or anything.<br /><br />I've been trying to figure out <span style="font-style: italic;">why this week?</span> Why is this amazing sadness coming over me now? And I have two explanations. However, I must preface these possibilities with the fact that I can't say for sure if these events are causing the sadness or just happen to be in proximity to the sadness.<br /><ol><li>The depression that I was so scared of has caught up to me. Now that my semester is done, and I have time to relax, the true weight of my loss is barreling down on me. Just like before. I will now have to start taking anti-depressants again and may have to spend the summer in the hospital. Just like before.</li><li>I met a guy. I don't know much about him, but what I do know, I like. First of all, he's older than me. He and I are both in the same doctorate program and our research interests are similar. He's told me that my passion and drive are "encouraging" to him. Already worlds different from what I've known before. My friend told me that the reason why I'm sad is because as I open a new door, I'm closing one behind me. And that's bittersweet.</li></ol>Perhaps I'm not ready to go through the door...we'll see after the first date. Perhaps I'm succumbing to depression again...we'll see after my therapist's appointment. Perhaps I'm just dealing with a major break-up and some weeks are worse than others...we'll see next week. I guess the best thing I can do is see. I'm desperately trying not to jump to any causal conclusions while I just observe myself.<br /><br />P.S. By the way, I got an "A" in Intermediate Statistics this past semester. One of the most challenging courses in the school.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-37832112663211265362008-06-16T22:49:00.003-04:002008-06-16T22:54:37.492-04:00I Talk Too MuchI don't tell secrets, but I do talk too much. Especially when I really like the person. I was looking through all the emails I had saved from the beginning of my relationship with TM and they started with him writing me, and me writing back. It was a very even see-saw. Then a few weeks in, it turned into 4-5 emails from me to him, then his reply. It got very uneven. Most of those emails were about trivial things, too.<br /><br />I must worked much harder on keeping my mouth shut. I must let the next person get a word in edgewise. I must listen SO much harder than I did with TM. Because TM did mislead me with what he wanted from life...<span style="font-style: italic;">don't get me wrong</span>...but he also gave me clues to our downfall.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-34442994185458392332008-06-11T22:05:00.005-04:002008-06-11T22:14:11.995-04:00Same Ole QuestionWhen does it stop hurting? I've moved out of the apartment we shared; we are no longer a family in the eyes of our cell phone plan; I changed the layout of my blog; I'm running every day...<span style="font-style: italic;">for the past two days </span><span>:)...what does a girl have to do to get over the man she loves/d?<br /><br />I think she needs a shot of testosterone because the guy always seems to be SO fine. Is it <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> easy to get over me? Am I <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> bad a person that the guy can move on so quickly, with a quick wiping of hands and a "good riddance?" What's wrong with me? Saying "nothing" is not cutting it tonight 'cuz I feel very wrong.<br /></span>L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-61490518695881458922008-06-09T10:55:00.004-04:002008-06-09T12:32:36.945-04:00A Missed Opportunity<a href="http://www.jkrowling.com/en/">J.K. Rowling</a> (pronounced <span style="font-style: italic;">rolling</span>) was the commencement speaker for Harvard this year. <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Can I say here how confusing Harvard's graduation exercises are? There is the main ceremony with everyone, then the separate school diploma ceremonies, then everyone gets back together for the Commencement speaker. Not to mention that it's a month after the last day of classes. So weird!</span><br /><br />Anyway, I had no urge to hear her speech. I thought she would not be interesting <span style="font-style: italic;">at all</span>. I mean, I loved the books, but they weren't high literature or anything!<br /><br />Boy was I wrong! Everyone who went said the speech was amazing. She was funny, smart, moving, and inspirational. I had to see it. So of course I went straight to YouTube...and they were right. One of her best lines: while talking about the value of failure she made it clear that she was not advocating being poor. <blockquote>"Climbing out of poverty by your own efforts, that is something on which to pride yourself. But poverty itself is romanticized only by fools."</blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">That idea was one of the biggest problems I had with TM. As a person who never had to deal with it, he seemed to look down on people who actively tried to avoid it.</span><br /><br />Anyway, I know the speech is in three parts, but please check it out. Especially if you hated your graduation speaker. You can listen to this one and claim it as your own...it's that good. 2008 was a great year for <a href="http://tuckergurl.typepad.com/tuckergurl/2008/05/obama-at-wesley.html">commencement speakers</a>.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" text align: center; value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L445BmUEXH4&hl=en&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L445BmUEXH4&hl=en&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-2992927311098207742008-06-08T11:36:00.003-04:002008-06-08T11:57:16.137-04:00I Am Also a Woman, HoweverBeing an adult is so confusing! Everything I wrote in my last <a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/06/can-someone-please-explain-this-to-me.html">post</a> is absolutely true, but my friend just sent me this YouTube video that almost made me nauseous.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/g-IrhRSwF9U&hl=en&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/g-IrhRSwF9U&hl=en&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-7176394300188673902008-06-08T11:13:00.002-04:002008-06-08T11:35:12.478-04:00Can Someone PLEASE Explain This to Me?I just heard a story on "Weekend Edition" about Clinton's concession speech and the response of her supporters. Women, unashamed to say their name, said that they were not going to support the Democratic Presidential nominee, and might even vote for McCain. I went out with a group of white women yesterday, and they echoed this sentiment, saying things like "<span style="font-style: italic;">Hilary DID get the popular vote</span>," and "<span style="font-style: italic;">Obama supporters could have voted Undecided for the Michigan primary."</span> These Harvard-educated women were saying this with a straight face!<br /><br />I had so many questions, but we let the conversation fall away to keep the jovial mood. Would they have complained that it wasn't a "clear-cut win" if Hilary had actually won? Would they be hesitant, even obstinate, in not supporting Obama if he were White? Are people so incredibly ignorant that they would rather vote for a Republican...<span style="font-style: italic;">after EVERYTHING we've been through for the past eight years</span>...than see a Black man in the Oval Office? I would hate to believe educated, White women could still be so blatantly racist...so please, can someone provide me with another explanation?<br /><br />On another note, it became very clear to me during the conversation with my friends yesterday that as my status as a Black woman in the society, I am a Black person first. The feminist dialogue does not speak to me at all, mainly because it is written by White people.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-46140022117261517982008-06-05T21:35:00.003-04:002008-06-05T22:07:55.495-04:00Feeling Lucky, but It's Not About LuckThis <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/06/business/06mortgage.html?hp=&adxnnl=1&adxnnlx=1212718037-njxL8YAReaQQ4fgBggN+7Q">article</a> is one of many that has been in the news in the past year or so. It's highlighting the crisis of home ownership in America. This is a very big deal because owning property is part of the foundation of this country: economically, socially, etc. Think about what it means to own your home, and what it means to own a home in one neighborhood versus another. Cities and towns function primarily through property taxes levied on homes. It's a big deal.<br /><br />If you recall, I own an apartment in Brooklyn. It's far from the shi-shi areas that most people covet in Brooklyn, but it's a nice neighborhood, and the apartment is huge compared to most of those apartments in the shi-shi area...<span style="font-style: italic;">900 square feet, baby!</span> There was a time a few years ago where I was way behind in my mortgage. To be behind in my mortgage means to owe the bank 4 figures in a hot minute, so just imagine what being way behind looked like. The amount due every month is totally doable, but as soon as you get behind, you get screwed. I was screwed.<br /><br />It took a year, but I worked my *ss off to get back on track and I haven't fallen behind since. When I moved to Boston, I found a fabulous tenant who pays the rent on time every month and keeps the apartment nice. So now <span style="font-style: italic;">she's</span> paying my mortgage. Good times.<br /><br />I feel fortunate that I'm not the one in 11 who's facing foreclosure. I feel lucky that I have a tenant in my place. I also feel charmed that I did <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> receive a sub-prime mortgage, that my rate is fixed for the life of my loan. But I also feel proud that I pulled my mortgage back in good standing on my own...before the economic sh*t hit the fan. And that my mortgage remains in good standing through this national crisis. I did that! Luck has nothing to do with that.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-49443276693091375622008-06-03T22:17:00.007-04:002008-06-03T22:45:13.521-04:00I Think I'm in ShockThis became the front page of the New York <span style="font-style: italic;">Times</span> online at 10:12pm tonight:<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SEX9nLZj0kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/DwAn6TnmEWc/s1600-h/obama.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_U5hrUSQpyFk/SEX9nLZj0kI/AAAAAAAAAKc/DwAn6TnmEWc/s320/obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207847393640567362" border="0" /></a>I knew this was coming. All the pundits were talking about how close Obama was, how the tone and focus of his campaign has shifted. I mean, I knew this was going to happen and it was probably going to happen tonight.<br /><br />And yet...<br /><br />And yet...I just heard him say that he is now "running for President of the United States." And I can't really believe it. There is a Black man running to be the leader of America...<span style="font-style: italic;">and if Clinton, her ego, and her bull-headed supporters don't f*ck it up</span>...he has a good chance of winning.<br /><br />I can't believe this is happening in my lifetime. I never thought America would live up to its potential in this way. His wife is right: <span style="font-style: italic;">now</span> is the time to be the most proud of our country.<br /><br />P.S. This happened on my mom's birthday...what a present for her!<br /></div>L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-19764273069695962012008-05-29T18:49:00.003-04:002008-05-29T19:01:38.604-04:00The Break-Up, Part 73It's my turn to move out this weekend. I'm in the process of packing up my stuff and moving most of it down to the basement. <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm house sitting for the summer, so I'm storing my stuff in the basement here</span>. Of course, I'm going through some aspects of the break-up again, though luckily not as intensely. Right now, I'm thinking about why and how I got to this place, wishing I wasn't here, remembering the days when TM loved me.<br /><br />Case in point: I still have the cell phone that I had before I got my iPhone. Since I'm in a big "get rid of it" mood, I figured I need to put the phone in the Goodwill pile. But I turned it on and looked through all the saved text messages. There a bunch of messages from TM telling me that he loves me, that's he so grateful for me, and that he never wants to take me for granted. There are private jokes and general silliness.<br /><br />So now I don't want to get rid of the phone. It's like if I keep the phone and those messages, then he'll still love me. It will be like the TM that I knew back then will exist and the TM who's ready to start dating again...<span style="font-style: italic;">according to his social networking page...</span>won't exist.<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>I know, it doesn't make much sense, but I'm trying to remember that I don't have to right now.<br /><br />I will get rid of the phone, but God I miss him.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-4046171905869778532008-05-22T23:28:00.003-04:002008-05-22T23:33:26.093-04:00And I Didn't CryI saw him tonight. It was only for a moment, on a doorstep. It felt good; he is still the one I want to tell everything to. I know he won't be ever again, but for a time, it felt really nice.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-18925006769424833962008-05-20T12:11:00.004-04:002008-05-20T12:20:46.131-04:00A Change of PaceThough I need to keep posting about TM in order to process and deal, I'm sick of doing so at the present moment, so I'll share other news.<br /><br />My mom is in Mexico right now!!! She's spending three weeks living with a family outside of Mexico City doing some community organizing work and taking intensive Spanish classes. And this is for course credit. <span style="font-style: italic;">Yes, my mom is in school as well. </span><br /><br />This is the first time my mom has been out of the country in many, many years. All three of her daughters have been to some combination of Europe, South America, Africa, Central America, and the Caribbean...<span style="font-style: italic;">some of us have been to all five. </span>She has only been to Jamaica, Bermuda, and Canada. My mom is the personification of making sure the next generation accomplishes more than the one before.<br /><br />I am so impressed with her strength to keep learning and growing.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-38298251370358580712008-05-18T20:45:00.003-04:002008-05-18T21:17:17.378-04:00A Death in the FamilyOn my drive home from my S'mom's <a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2008/05/congrats-smom.html">graduation</a> tonight, I thought back on a recent encounter I had with TM. <span style="font-style: italic;">Did I mention that he moved down the street from our old apartment?</span> We spoke very briefly, but that's not new. These days, we only have the briefest, most superficial conversations. Even when I called him to tell him that I finished my first year and to thank him for the part he played in supporting me...<span style="font-style: italic;">I made it clear that I wasn't referring to the recent past, which he made more difficult</span>...he response was so official. So professional, like he was talking to a client or something, not someone whom he once loved.<br /><br />Thinking about this in the car, I realized that I want to interact with TM, but I don't at the same time. I see the man I love and I want to talk to him, tell him about the end of my semester, hear about his music...<span style="font-style: italic;">ironically, I am/was one of his biggest supporters</span>. But when I try, another person responds. A person who doesn't love me at all, who doesn't want to know me. It's like TM died the night we broke up. There is another man walking around that looks and sounds like him, but the TM I knew is gone. And he's probably never coming back.<br /><br />I know, I know...this isn't news. But it hit me like a ton of bricks.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-50464741656465621302008-05-18T20:25:00.002-04:002008-05-18T20:45:01.055-04:00Congrats S'mom!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/20/Talisman_-Vayou_-Vaslav_Nijinsky_-1909.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 245px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/20/Talisman_-Vayou_-Vaslav_Nijinsky_-1909.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a>I just got back from a graduation, but it wasn't for one of my younger siblings or cousins. It was for my stepmom, who finished her Bachelor's after starting it decades earlier. In the interim, she's lived in New York City, worked with some fantastic artists, earned her Master's degree...<span style="font-style: italic;">arts school, what are you going to do?...</span>got married, raised a child, maintained a lovely home, and has supported me as I have cried, laughed, ranted, complained, marveled, worried, and celebrated life.<br /><br />I couldn't ask for a better second mom. I love her and I am so proud of her!L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-37544674786695422872008-05-16T15:32:00.004-04:002008-05-16T15:55:57.197-04:00"Relax, Relate, Release"Us children of the 80s and early 90s will recognize the title of this post. I had totally forgotten it and what it meant until this morning. I'm wishing I had remembered it earlier while I was freaking the f*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">uck</span> out, but what are you going to do? With a new day comes new developments, new insights, and my Aunt Pee to help explain away the confusion.<br /><br />Thanks for all those that put up with my digital primal scream yesterday. I think I really needed it. As soon as I posted it, I decided that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">TM's</span> decisions were NOT going to tear apart my family anymore than they had already. If it meant that I couch surfed all summer, I would do it until I found a place that fit both my and Ella's needs.<br /><br />Today, life is much better. I found an apartment that I can live in and that will take Ella. Not only have I found one, but it is convenient to campus, even closer to the cool area that TM and I lived near, and it's only with one other roommate. The rent is more expensive, but I'll more than make it up in the lower utility bills. There's a backyard! Did I mention the landlord has no problems with Ella? I can't move in until August, but I'll be house sitting for a friend of mine for the summer rent-free. Life is looking up.<br /><br />You know how you don't realize how much burden you're carrying until it's gone? That's what I feel now. My fingers are tingly because my blood is flowing again. Of course, life is nowhere near perfect. I'm still sad, angry, lonely, and missing TM immensely. I just got an email that someone who was diagnosed with active tuberculosis was in a class I took this semester...<span style="font-style: italic;">I didn't sit near him, so I think I'm safe.</span> But at least I have a place to live!<br /><br />And you know what? I just completed one of the worst years of my life to get one year closer to getting my doctorate at Harvard! Hell yeah!!L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-88532640585025864862008-05-15T16:41:00.003-04:002008-05-15T17:01:45.213-04:00NOW I'm AngryThis post is going to be a bit incoherent because I can barely express all that I'm feeling right now. But I need to release in some way and I can't scream because I'm in the library.<br /><br />I am livid at this moment, absolutely enraged. The thing is I don't know if I'm mad at TM or at myself. Perhaps both.<br /><br />I'm mad at myself for letting this man into my heart when I <span style="font-style: italic;">knew </span>he wasn't ready to get down the way I was. All his talk about knowing what he wanted in his life...he's not even 30! How could he know that!<br /><br />I'm mad at myself for letting this man into my living space without thinking through the consequences. Now it's the middle of May and I've been turned down from yet another apartment situation because I have Ella. Let's not even go into how much more limited my options are because I can't afford to live alone and the possibilities dwindle so much once you check the "dogs <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>" box on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Craigslist</span>. When TM and I moved to this area, I didn't even consider the possibility that I would have to find a roommate situation that would take dogs. And now, even as I try to find that living situation, one that is close enough to campus so that I can walk Ella, affordable enough so that I won't go broke, and sane enough so that I won't have to sleep with a knife under my pillow...I'm still getting rejected for having a dog.<br /><br />After almost three years, after spending lots of money in legal fees, and after promising Ella that I would take care of her for the rest of her life, I may have to give her up. And as sad as I am about that possibility, I am even more angry. TM could put my life in disarray; I'll recover. But his actions may cause me to have to give up my dog and I can't believe it. What's worse, I let him do this to me, to us.<br /><br />I gotta go to work.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-65209515517239099622008-05-13T15:05:00.003-04:002008-05-13T15:13:25.261-04:00The Finish Line<ul><li>I am working on my last final of my first year of my doctorate studies at Harvard University.</li><li>I have also been dumped by the man I wanted to marry, and I have no idea where I'm going to live next month.</li></ul>Which one should I focus on? But, which one <span style="font-style: italic;">am</span> I focusing on?L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-87127659539552060282008-05-12T17:41:00.004-04:002008-05-12T18:23:14.763-04:00An Update on a "Cult Leader"I don't know if you remember this, but right before I met TM I spent a lame weekend with a dude in Buffalo, NY. It was a crappy weekend, but I got to go to Canada and I saw Niagara Falls. Anyway, we spent one night with this "spiritual guru" that the loser guy was all into, and when I got home, I wrote about my <a href="http://buddhaquote.blogspot.com/2006/10/me-and-cult-leader.html">reactions to him</a>, which weren't positive. I went through a range of emotions that night, but ultimately decided that he wasn't for me. It wasn't what he was saying that was so scary, it was what his followers were saying that freaked me out.<br /><br />I got a couple of comments from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bijan</span> followers telling me that "I didn't understand." <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Whatevs</span>.<br /><br />But a couple of weeks ago, I started getting a lot of comments to that post; some of them pointed me to the story I'm about to tell you, others were rants defending him. It was weird because I wrote the post a year and a half ago. I am in the middle of finals so I haven't had time to look into it, but I'm wrapping up my 15-page statistics final, so to celebrate I went on a treasure hunt.<br /><br />The source is <a href="http://truecrime.tumblr.com/post/34027144">here</a>. This isn't the first time I've been quoted, but my blog is not big like <a href="http://www.tuckergurl.typepad.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tuckergurl</span></a>'s, so it's still a bit of a shock when I'm cited on a page I've never visited.<br /><br />The reason: apparently that "guru" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Bijan</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Anjomi</span> was <a href="http://www.canada.com/topics/news/national/story.html?id=8574f886-bb9d-4de2-ab04-a808ca327a5e">arrested</a> last week on three counts of sexual assault to two women during what was supposed to be "personal coaching sessions" with the women. He's 64; the women were 27 and 37. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ick</span>.<br /><br />The fact that the narcissistic loser from Buffalo was drawn to this snake oil salesmen does not surprise me at all. In fact, I have come across more than my fair share of egotistical men who point to some "great thinker" to justify their selfishness. I'm sick of it.<br /><br />I hope they throw the book at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Bijan</span>.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-12890045941215350282008-05-08T00:10:00.003-04:002008-05-08T00:50:54.728-04:00I Think I Saved Someone's Life TonightThe first year doctoral students had just finished presenting our final research projects to a packed house in one of the school's largest classrooms. We were being treated to a reception in the Commons with appetizers and free booze!<br /><br />A Master's student I knew, not part of our group, had apparently been passed out in the corner of the Commons for almost an hour. No one could see her face and no one thought twice about it. After all, it's Finals Week. Everyone is sleeping and not sleeping at odd times.<br /><br />As the reception was winding down, I saw her standing by the food table talking on the phone. I waved at her and said hi. She waved back as I passed her. I looked back...she was still waving and staring at the space I occupied seconds ago. I joked with her: "You can stop waving now," I said with a smile. But she kept waving and kept staring into space.<br /><br />So I walked around the table and stood right next to her. I called her name. She had stopped waving, but she wasn't looking at me and her body was as stiff as a board. The phone was still by her ear, but no one was on it. I pulled up a chair and she sunk into it like an anchor.<br /><br />Then I remembered...seeing her in meetings for a conference we both helped organize. During those meetings, she would pull out a device shaped like an old school Blackberry, prick her finger with some sort of attachment, and stick the stick into the device. Then she would adjust a white rectangular pod on her lower back and press some buttons on the device. I don't know how I knew, but I knew she was managing her diabetes.<br /><br />I had never seen the negative effects of diabetes...<span style="font-style: italic;">except for that scene in </span>Steel Magnolias, but I was pretty sure she was feeling them at that moment. As I tried to stop her from falling out of the chair, I called out for help. Friends bought her orange juice and a candy bar. The phone that I had pulled out of her hands buzzed and I answered. It was her boyfriend; she had been trying to call him. I told him where we were and asked if what we were doing was okay. Other friends called 911. All the while, I held the cup of orange juice so she could drink as much of it as possible. Her body was stiff, she was speaking incoherently, and all the while I knew that her eyes shouldn't close. I didn't know why, but I just knew she had to keep awake.<br /><br />A firetruck and ambulance arrived. Friends of mine stood outside directing traffic down a narrow one-way street and kept an eye on her boyfriend's car...<span style="font-style: italic;">which was parked illegally.</span> Eventually, she could tell people her name and she knew mine. I left because she started to become aware of the number of people gawking. You could tell the crowd was making her feel uncomfortable and resistant to medical attention. Besides, her boyfriend was by her side at that point trying to make her finish her orange juice.<br /><br />On my way out, I was shaking. I knew she had avoided something horrible, but I still couldn't wrap my brain around it. I was the only person left at the reception who knew her; almost everyone had already left or were on their way out the door. I'm sure the bartenders packing up would have noticed her odd behavior, but I was the only one in that room who knew she had diabetes. What if no one had put it together in time?<br /><br />I got an email from her tonight thanking me for my help and telling me that I "literally saved [her] life." Apparently, if left on her own for much longer she would have gone into a diabetic coma. Based on my quick internet research, healthy blood sugar levels average around 100, with variance of about 20 points on either side occurring throughout the day. Her blood sugar level was 40.<br /><br />Taking care of my friend was scary as hell, but so easy. I didn't hesitate to ask for help, to give information to the right people, to be there for her. And I'm so happy she's okay...at least well enough to send emails.<br /><br />It was so easy to do that for someone else, but for the life of me, I can't seem to do that for myself. These days, I'm feeling like it's a matter of life or death for me as well.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18659479.post-81446700653131249532008-05-03T13:19:00.003-04:002008-06-19T21:37:26.954-04:00Ay, There's the RubI'm being sad today. I showed TM a moment of weakness last night...<span style="font-style: italic;">don't worry, it was only over text message telling him I missed him</span>. He responded by ignoring me...surprise, surprise. I guess I can't ever show TM my vulnerability again.<br /><br />The thing is...everyone is telling me that I am so great and that I now have made room for the person strong enough to truly support me to come into my life. But I have proven that I am <span style="font-style: italic;">horrible</span> at locating that person. True, TM was worlds better than Ex, but they were the same in that they were incapable of truly being there for me. What if I just don't know what that looks like, that I'm so blind to the right man that I'm doomed to never meet him?<br /><br />As good as I am at lots of things, I'm clearly bad at picking partners. This scares me.L. Britthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11636048549849790456noreply@blogger.com