tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72595592009-02-21T06:54:53.124-05:00Newton's Diarynewtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-42267773661072863112008-12-11T10:10:00.002-05:002008-12-11T11:02:44.931-05:00How to draw Asian people<p>I remember a few years ago I took a diversity training class at work. I can't remember what the exercise was but it had to do with working with a quiet, smart person from a different country. For some reason I decorated our group's poster with some pictures of nerds. I drew two people with big glasses and goofy smiles. The instructor asked me why I drew a stereotypical Asian with buck teeth, this was supposed to be a diversity class after all. I looked at my drawing and I didn't see "Asian buck teeth" but I guess I could see how someone could think they were, because that's what people grow up thinking Asian people look like.</p><p><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gladiolaroot/3100560740/" title="IMG_0506 by gladiolaroot, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3116/3100560740_2e9c153ddf.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_0506" /></a><br />I didn't draw this picture. It's from a kid's book entitled "My Nose, My Toes, and Me!" and it shows a bunch of different (and diverse) kids talking about various body parts. The picture is a little Asian girl talking about her mouth. I know she's Asian because she has squinty, slanted eyes and black hair...and buck teeth. None of the other kids in the book have teeth, so why put teeth on this kid? Maybe it's to emphasize that she's talking about her mouth? Well, if that's the case, why not put lower teeth instead of buck teeth? Most kids grow lower teeth before uppers. And why the gap toothed smile? Because everyone knows that Asian people have bad teeth?</p><p>I suppose if people didn't draw Asian people with squinty, slanted eyes and bad teeth, then how would you distinguish a drawing of a dark haired white person from an American Indian from a dark haired Hispanic person from an Asian? That's why I like books and tv shows with animals and puppets...you don't have to worry about not being diverse, and if you do, then you just add a new animal or a pink or purple colored puppet...no one's going to call you out for not being inclusive. Unless of course, you only use animals from North America...aack!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-4226777366107286311?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-63422853519349542252008-10-10T04:24:00.004-04:002008-10-10T10:27:26.754-04:00Festivus for the breast of usIf this were caveman times, I would probably not be alive. But thanks to the miracles of modern science and baby formula, I am here, and so is my kid. I guess that means that we've basically cheated natural selection and probably skewed the future of the human race.<br /><br />It's kind of funny that for being such an advanced lifeform, humans are so dependent on technology and innovation to survive. Can you imagine what it would be like if we didn't have formula and bottles and "lactation consultants"...and that amazing police woman in China who breastfed all those earthquake babies? <br /><br />I'm kind of torn up about breastfeeding versus formula feeding. Since I was formula fed and I think I turned out ok, I don't have a problem with feeding babies formula from the start. But for some reason I feel guilty if I don't try the whole breast milk thing. It's probably because there are so many books and websites and people out there touting the whole "breast is best" mantra, and with the creation of a new professional they call a "lactation consultant" and inventions like the hands free breast pump...why wouldn't a woman give her baby her own milk?<br /><br />I guess it's easy to judge a formula feeder if you are a successful breastfeeder, and you believe it's as natural and easy for others as it is for yourself. But sometimes it doesn't come naturally to mothers, and it's frustrating because it gives them a sense of "life or death"...if I can't breastfeed, then my baby will die. If it's ok for breastfeeders to chastise bottle feeders, then should it be ok for people who have conceived naturally to chastise people who relied on drugs or fertility treatments in order to conceive? I don't think either is ok...people should probably just mind their own business.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-6342285351934954225?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-8316948682208076862008-07-30T17:01:00.002-04:002008-07-30T17:46:51.639-04:00You can save the planet, but who will save you?<p>I'd like to kick the crotch of the person who created the whole "green" hype. I can't think of doing anything or buying anything without worrying about the impact on the environment. I guess that sort of thing should just come naturally, but why doesn't it? I blame big companies who make and sell things. It's not my fault that in the past century people have barely made any progress in alternative sources of energy for cars. It's not my fault that people who make product packaging for various foods don't use recyclable materials, which I guess I could also blame on my garbage company for not really taking type 6 plastics. It's not my fault that people who make lightbulbs haven't figured out a NON-TOXIC way of being green AND of providing sufficient light.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/aackhg-709205.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/aackhg-709203.png" border="0" alt="" /></a>The other day, someone in this house broke one of those fancy compact fluorescent lightbulbs (you know, the swirly ones that are supposed to last forever). Of course, the first inclination when this sort of thing happens is to break out the broom and dustpan and sweep up the broken glass and toss it. Because you'd think the broken glass is really the most dangerous part of a lightbulb. Not so! CFL lightbulbs carry a much bigger danger that I'm sure most people in this world are not aware of...they carry a minute amount of mercury inside the bulb. Which means that you can't just throw these bad boys away when they burn out, otherwise mercury may leach into the groundwater supply and make people who drink water very sick. And if you happen to break one in your house, you can't just sweep up your troubles, you have to really do some serious cleaning. Like DON'T USE A BROOM OR VACUUM. And use a wet paper towel to pick up the dust particles. And air out your house for an hour or more. But make sure to turn off your central a/c or heat because that will just spin the mercury vapor all around your house. And the broken bulb and glass shards should be placed in a sealable glass container and then placed into a larger 5 gallon bucket with a lid so you can put it in your car and drive it down to your nearest CFL recycling place (Home Depot is supposed to take these). If you want to feed your paranoia, go to the <a href="http://www.epa.gov/hg/spills/index.htm#fluorescent">EPA website</a> and read up on it and also the <a href="http://www.maine.gov/dep/rwm/homeowner/cflreport.htm">crazy study</a> that the Maine DEP did with regards to CFL breakage.</p><p>I'm pretty annoyed that people would be ok with selling these bulbs when they are obviously dangerous. I mean, anything that requires that much caution and supplies for accidental breakage (which I'm sure happens all the time) really shouldn't be pushed onto anyone. I hate the argument that an incandescent bulb releases more mercury into the environment than a CFL. They are basically saying that the mercury that is associated with an incandescent is the mercury that is released into the air when coal is burned to produce electricity to power an incandescent bulb. WHY are people still burning COAL for energy? The fact is, an incandescent itself does not have mercury INSIDE it, unlike those stupid swirly things. At what cost are we trying to save the planet?</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-831694868220807686?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-16706714828676258722008-07-24T11:08:00.003-04:002008-07-24T11:59:10.877-04:00The disappointment of change<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/notexpected-707646.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/notexpected-707643.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>Do you ever think you need something and then when you finally get it, it's nothing at all like you had expected?</p><p>Sometimes you think, well maybe it would have been better to not have changed anything...because that whole anticipation of something better and then the disappointment of reality is worse than just dealing with the way things were. But then people will tell you...well that's the interesting thing with life! You can't just sit around and live in the status quo day after day because it works...you have to experience life...experience different things, different people, different jobs, different cell phone companies. Because then, in the end, at least you can say that you tried.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-1670671482867625872?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-81175306766741136832008-07-03T09:34:00.004-04:002008-07-03T10:10:19.316-04:00Stop picking my nits!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/nitpicker-770009.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/nitpicker-770006.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>I like to think that I'm a detail-oriented person, and I think to some extent I am. But maybe not on the right details. I often spend a lot of time doing or redoing something just to get it perfect, but then I overlook something more obvious that makes other people probably think, "gosh, how the heck did she not see that?".</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/blackbrown-754779.png"><img style="float:right; margin:10px 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/blackbrown-754777.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><p>For some reason I get rather annoyed when people nitpick at things that I don't really notice or care about. Especially when I see that there are other things that people should be focusing on, like bigger things...then nitpicking my stuff really has no point in my eyes. I guess I should probably get a thicker skin and realize that people aren't doing this to personally annoy me, but sometimes it just seems that way, almost like a ratty old homeless guy wearing mandals with socks telling me that my outfit is poorly matched. I need to learn to let picked nits lie.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-8117530676674113683?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-25317994460910730482008-06-27T18:11:00.002-04:002008-06-27T18:38:43.281-04:00I'm an ET kid!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/etkid-728017.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/etkid-727925.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>In the first grade, we had this weekly recognition program called "ET kid", which meant something like "Extra Terrific Kid", not "Extra Terrestrial Kid". Since it was once a week, it gave each kid in the class the opportunity to be it once. When you're the ET kid, you get to be the first in line for lunch and recess, and probably some other first grade perks that I can't remember now. Like helping to erase the chalkboard or something. Maybe the best thing overall was that you got to wear the ET kid t-shirt. It was red and had ET on it. But you had to wear it all week and then take it home and wash it so the next kid wouldn't have to smell your cooties.</p><p>It's funny how when you become an adult, little things like that don't buy you happiness anymore. Probably because when you're an adult, people don't give out these types of awards that are "everyone should get it at least once so it's fair". At work they started doing this thing called "Everyday Hero" and although it's not every day, they send emails and post new articles like once a week about these people who have gone above and beyond to do greatness at work. Even something so small like this can make the receiver really happy, but can make other people who don't get it really upset.</p><p>I think for some people, it's not worth doing any work unless you get called out and recognized for your contributions, no matter how small of a recognition it is. I guess people are all motivated by their own things, and if people only do good work because they want everyone to pat them on the back and write articles about them, then that's pretty sad.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-2531799446091073048?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-85671124973237067782008-05-26T13:34:00.003-04:002008-05-26T13:38:34.116-04:00Three things you shouldn't say to me<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/samething-701120.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/samething-701116.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/hadtime-785116.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/hadtime-785111.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/dontfreakout-701384.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/dontfreakout-701380.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-8567112497323706778?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-33726691128114244852008-04-09T21:44:00.004-04:002008-04-09T22:34:03.883-04:00Yeah....that's a stretch<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/peopleskillz-724477.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/peopleskillz-724473.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>I've never been a person to pander to bullshit. I don't do things for the sake of doing them, I don't do something just because someone attaches fancy-pants executive names to it, I don't like doing things if "that's how we've always done it and it works". If people ever try to get me to do things because of those reasons, I get mad and I push back. Of course, most people hate that, because all they expect out of someone who works for them is that they listen and they do what they are told. I'm not like that, and I'm sure it's "hurting my career" to a point, but frankly I would rather stuff envelopes at home for 10 bucks an hour than be a "yes ma'am" mindless slave like they expect me to be.</p><p>I had the displeasure of having a conversation with someone in my upper management chain (because they like to do this every so often to actually meet and talk to people who allow them to maintain their lavish lifestyles). We talked about where my career was headed, and I really have no idea what I want to do, so we talked about different path options. I had mentioned that I was interested in maybe trying out designing stuff for a while, and I was shocked to hear this person's response, which was: "Well, the successful designers that I know of all have very good people skills...and I think for you that's somewhat of a stretch." WHAT?????? What kind of person says that to another person? And in that manner? Sure, I have my shortcomings. I push back against people who try to get me to swallow bullshit, and I'm immediately labeled as someone with no people skills? And is that even proper "people skills" to tell someone that their having people skills is "a stretch"?</p><p>I'm a little annoyed at myself that the only comeback I had was, "Ok..." But I'm not sure what an appropriate response would have been. I realize that not everyone is skilled in the ways of the spoken word and that maybe that person didn't <i>mean it the way it sounded</i> (that's always the case isn't it?), but it really opened my eyes more to what kind of environment I'm working in. Yeah, I know you have to be civil to people you work with, but I don't expect to have to be everyones' best friend. It sounds like the message I'm getting is that it's more important to have people skills than to be good at what you do. I know I've heard this type of thing before, and I think that's basically the problem with Corporate America. I wish I could do something to fix that problem, but I can't since I have no people skills.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-3372669112811424485?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-42314030482815767652008-04-04T13:52:00.004-04:002008-04-04T16:34:08.757-04:00Crackpot theories<p>I've never understood how some people get paid to do some of the idiotic studies or surveys they do. The other day this AP article on Yahoo caught my eye: <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080401/ap_on_sc/choosing_sons"><b>Some Asian families in US choosing sons</b></a>. According to the people who did the research, some Asian families with three kids were more likely to have a boy as the third kid if the two previous kids were girls. Which means that they are obviously aborting girls if they found out they were having one and kept trying until they had a boy. Obviously. I mean, how could you NOT come up with that conclusion?</p><p>Well, I paid the seriously overpriced 10 bucks to access (for two days only) the <a href="http://www.pnas.org/cgi/content/abstract/0800703105v1">measly 1.2 page article</a> from the "Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences", and I just have to say, how is it that there are people out there who have no jobs, but there are idiots like this that get paid to do frivolous research like this? I can see why it may be interesting to see that third children with two older girl siblings are more likely to be boys in certain Asian families, but it's unclear to me whether the sampling of data was accurate and actually yields results that you could call a trend. According to the graphs on the overpriced article, only 324 families out of 11,553 Asian families have kids that follow the girl-girl-boy trend. It doesn't sound like a lot to make it a generality. All this data was taken from the 2000 US Census, and chopped down until they came up with a sampling of families that matched their criteria (must be of Chinese, Korean, or Asian Indian descent, must have only children under 12 years old...) I wonder if they didn't narrow down their data pool, how different the results would have been.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/crackpot-703316.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/crackpot-703314.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>What bothered me the most about this alleged study was the theory they came up with to support the high ratio of boy births as the second or third child after girls. They said that this was likely due to the use of pre-natal sex selection, like early ultrasounds or other tests to determine gender and subsequent abortion of a girl fetus in order to have a boy. Where did they come up with this crackpot theory? Do they actually have any evidence at all, maybe even an informal survey among Asian people in those groups to see if they would even consider it? As an Asian-American person myself, I am deeply offended that people would create this illusion that just because there have been things like China's "one child policy" and a fashionable trend of white people adopting babies from Korea and China, that you can immediately assume that people of those races living in the United States would have the same mentality and even think about aborting a kid just because it didn't turn out to be a boy? I mean if that WERE the case and Asians were doing this in the US, why would they have waited for the third kid? You think they would have put it in the hands of chance the first two times around, and the third time, they would say, "aw screw it, let's just abort it and start again." As a third female child after two older female siblings, I am highly offended that someone would even consider the possibility that my parents would have done that sort of thing (obviously they weren't successful, otherwise I would have been a boy).</p><p>Now I realize that there are disclaimers in the article mentioning that they had no hard evidence of this "sex selection" practice being done, and that they really weren't suggesting it, but it sounds like to them, it's the only natural explanation. Is it? Why wouldn't they have come up with the natural explanation that maybe these Asian families were highly evolutionarily superior and in order to maintain the normal evolutionary 1:1 sex ratio, their gametes decided after producing two girls, it was time to produce a male? Why would they immediately jump to the conclusion that the only way for this to possibly happen is if they killed off the girl fetuses and just kept trying over and over until they had a boy? It sickens me that people would even write something like that in a scientific journal without having ANY factual basis whatsoever. But it doesn't surprise me at all, the way this world is today.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-4231403048281576765?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-79897380207455057632008-04-01T00:15:00.002-04:002008-04-01T00:49:31.013-04:00ETA: Whenever I feel like it, gosh!<p>There are few times if any where I don't do something I'm supposed to do and people have to nag me to get me to do it. Usually reminding me once is enough and my guilt and terrific work ethic will push me to complete whatever it is I have to do, before the deadline. Ok, I know I do have a problem with things that don't have a real deadline. But when it's something obvious like a deadline for work that I am aware of and I have a short list of things to complete before a certain date, there's no reason to continue asking me when my "ETA" (does that even make sense in this context?) for completion of a task is. I mean, if there is a deadline for completing the task, isn't that deadline the ETA?</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/eta-740311.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/eta-740296.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><p>I've been working for NINE years. You'd think I would have some sense of responsibility for what I need to do in my job that people wouldn't have to go around and nag me every so often to make sure I'm doing my job. I actually was called "unprofessional" by a management type because I mocked on a call that maybe I needed to send daily status emails to people so they would know that I'm doing my job. I'm only guessing I struck a soft spot because it's probably the way most of my company works, that unless you send at least one or two long emails a day describing what your status is, people just assume you're blogging all day and watching streamed NetFlix movies.</p><p>I'm just tired of being treated like a teenager who hasn't taken out the garbage. If people really knew me, they would know that I get things done. I guess maybe I haven't made my message clear enough. I should probably start sending daily status emails. I'll make it like a newsletter. But I'll probably need someone to Photoshop a cheesy tongue-in-cheek header for it.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-7989738020745505763?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-11096249411677094732008-02-08T11:49:00.000-05:002008-02-08T12:53:28.379-05:00Hmph<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/hmph-766470.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/hmph-766456.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>When I was a kid my parents always chided me for crossing my arms. I know I do this often when I'm mad, but sometimes I never really realized I was doing it until someone would say something. Even as I got older, I would catch myself doing it and then undo it because I didn't want people to think I was mad all the time, even if I was. Although, people tended to think I was mad or sad all the time anyway, one time a teacher even asked my cousin why I was always so depressed (not sure why she didn't bother asking me herself, how lame). I attributed it to my natural frown. My mouth just naturally falls downward into a frown. Smiling sometimes takes effort, and if I do it too much, I end up with mouth cramps.</p><p>I read in some book that some scientists were conducting studies that suggested that if you forced yourself to smile, your brain would make you happy. And if you forced yourself to frown, your brain would make you unhappy. Maybe I'm just an unhappy person because my mouth just naturally turns down. There's nothing really I can do about it, since smiling often gives me cramps. But I find that the world just isn't forgiving towards unhappy people. I'm sure I could have a much easier time at work if I was super sickly sweet nice to everyone and I smiled at people all the time and I sucked up to everyone instead of being the realist that I am and scoffing at bullshit when I see it and telling people like it is. I guess people just don't want to accept reality for what it is. If they are stupid, they don't want people to tell them they're stupid, they want people to focus on the positives about them and just deal with their stupidity. Well, isn't that great. We can deal with peoples' stupidity, yet people can't deal with my grumpiness.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-1109624941167709473?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-10791705137484015092007-12-31T12:11:00.001-05:002007-12-31T12:11:46.667-05:00Why biographies are boringThink of your life. Think about what you do everyday and think about<br>any really "defining moments" you've had. Would they be enough to make<br>a 300 page book? I could probably write a short story or children's<br>book about the one or two defining life moments, but I know it would<br>be super boring if I were to try to put my life into a 300 page book.<p>That's the conversation I wish I could have had before Carly Fiorina<br>wrote her biography/memoir thing. Ok, so I'm not done reading, I'm not<br>even halfway, but the book so far reads like a college entrance essay<br>where the person is trying desperately to describe to the readers "why<br>I deserve to go to university". If I were her publisher, I would have<br>told her to focus on one or two really defining moments and describe<br>those in great detail, rather than writing like 2-4 pages about each<br>phase of her life, skipping from paragraph to paragraph with no<br>obvious transitions.<p>And as for the whole big deal about her going to a strip club to seal<br>a sales deal with a bunch of men, what is the big deal? I'm sure there<br>are plenty of business women out there who had to make some sort of<br>personal moral sacrifice in order to make it in their job...big deal.<br>I can't believe I got suckered into reading this boring piece of<br>drivel. I'm not sure what I was expecting though.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-1079170513748401509?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-91311158989412656042007-12-21T15:04:00.000-05:002007-12-29T00:21:36.580-05:00Who needs reality TV......when you can just go to a public place and listen to peoples' cell phone conversations...<br><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-9131115898941265604?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-15433581911836176632007-12-17T10:58:00.000-05:002007-12-17T11:57:33.172-05:00Giving should be enjoyable, shouldn't it?<p>Every year I try to do those giving tree things. You know, there's a tree at your workplace or at church or at Borders and you pick an ornament and it has a kid's age and gender and what they want for Christmas. This year at work, I passed by the tree maybe twenty times and I couldn't get myself to stop and pluck an ornament. Partially because I had already done a few others from somewhere else, but partially because the ones that end up on the work giving tree are usually more high-end things like a laptop or a video game console...stuff I wouldn't even think of buying for people I know, much less some random kid.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/givingtree-723010.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/givingtree-723008.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>There must have been a good 30 or more ornaments left on the tree the day before they took the tree down. So I have to wonder...what happens to those kids that don't get their wish? Are some kids' Christmases ruined just because some selfish middle-class white-collar worker couldn't be bothered to spread some Christmas joy to the less fortunate? I feel annoyed that some kids would ask for such extravagant gifts, yet I feel guilty that I couldn't get past that to give anyway. I didn't even look at the tags at work this year.</p><p>It must be tough being that one kid that gets to open a bag of one-size-fits-all socks that they buy on reserve in case they don't get enough from the giving tree, when everyone else around you got their board game, or their Barbie vet doctor, or their clock radio. I don't know why I feel guilty about not being able to help them all...I bet this is how those celebrities feel when they take their adopted kid home from a third-world country and look out their private jet window as they are leaving and see thousands of other kids they can afford to help but don't because their PR agent told them, "Just one".</p><p>I think next year instead of doing the giving tree, maybe I'll learn how to knit and do the baby blanket drive. At least babies won't complain if they got a blanket they didn't like.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-1543358191183617663?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-23701744257750318062007-12-07T13:31:00.000-05:002007-12-10T15:49:57.769-05:00What was it about "pay what you want" did you not understand?<p>I'm not really big on music. I mean, I like it, but it always seems like a lot of upkeep. You have to listen to the radio or something to keep up with the latest songs and artists (or date someone in the industry :-P), and if you really want something, you have to go buy it (or get your cassette recorder ready the next time they play it on the radio), and of course, no one has a CD player anymore, it's all about those "iPod" things, and you download music through the Internet...it's just a lot of work.</p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/itsfree-783490.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/itsfree-783486.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>But then a few months ago I heard this story on NPR about how Radiohead is offering its new album for download only and that people can pay however much they want, and I knew I had to get it. I thought for days about how much I was going to pay for the album. I've purchased actual Radiohead CDs before, so I've paid my fair share of "ridiculous music business overhead tax", and I thought that this would be my first chance to stick it to the man and just take that music for free, because I deserve it. But then I thought, NO, Radiohead is being nice, and I should support people who are nice! So I thought maybe I would give them 10 bucks, because if it were a CD, I'd probably pay 10 bucks for it when it ends up in the bargain bin at Borders. After several days of waffling, I decided I would listen to my coworker and download it for free, but then go back and pay a dollar for every song that was good.</p><p>That was three months ago. And every time I listened to those songs since then, I kept thinking, oh shoot, I was going to go back and pay real money for this stuff! But then I think, do I really have to? I mean, I downloaded it, I'm enjoying it, they let me have this for free, why bother at this point in time? I mean I think a month ago they had a follow-up NPR story and it said that most people in the US didn't pay anything for the album. I wonder if that means that people in the US are just cheap or they feel entitled to free music since that's why Al Gore invented the Internet. But do I really want to be one of those people that steals music, like that little girl on those old Napster ads who is in jail because she downloaded music?</p><p>Aaaanyhooo....I went back to the site the other day and paid 4.5 pounds for the album (a dollar per song I liked...I think I liked them all except maybe one)...plus they charged me a fee for using a credit card. So it was almost as if I went to the store and bought the damn CD anyway. I think I just felt guilty for not paying in the first place. But now I feel like a sucker.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-2370174425775031806?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-51852487147111979992007-12-07T08:51:00.000-05:002007-12-07T08:55:42.465-05:00Did people ever say this to Picasso?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/thatsnotme-706487.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/thatsnotme-706481.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-5185248714711197999?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-26924703219013426342007-11-28T00:03:00.001-05:002007-11-28T00:38:00.572-05:00Karma's a bitch, so watch out<p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/karma-733644.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/karma-733641.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>Whenever something bad happens, I tend to overreact and get really emotional about it. Which is never good, because then I end up living with this dark cloud over my head and I can't seem to see goodness in anything. Then the other day I caught the tail end of "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle", which really has some very poignant messages, despite what you may think. At a point where Harold just about gives up his White Castle quest, some guy <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0366551/quotes">tells him</a>, "I learned a long time ago there's no sense getting all riled up every time a bunch of idiots give you a hard time. In the end, the universe tends to unfold as it should." </p><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/giveme-760694.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/giveme-760690.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>Of course, it's easy to say that every time (and time and time again) that someone does something bad to you, and it may be that karma will take lifetimes to catch up, or that whatever the universe unfolds isn't noticeable to you as a sort of "payback", but it always makes me feel better when I think that those sons of bitches are going to pay for what they did, in whatever way it may be. I know that sounds terrible, it sounds like I'm wishing ill will onto people who wronged me or someone I know, but I'm not really. I'm just putting it into the hands of some higher power that will decide when and if there should be some balance restored to the cosmos.</p><br /><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/brokenleg-790048.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/brokenleg-790045.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>...All I can say now is, whoever that jerkwad was who stole from my sis, you'd better watch your back, because Karma's a bitch, and you just pissed her off.<br /><br />(No, my sis isn't an old hag. That's just a fictional dramatization.)</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-2692470321901342634?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-683251401951068292007-11-09T09:03:00.000-05:002007-11-09T09:06:17.821-05:00Yet another freaking faceless...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/benwah-771939.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/benwah-771927.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-68325140195106829?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-74870018824610111612007-10-31T21:18:00.000-04:002007-10-31T22:34:33.030-04:00Halloween humbug<p>Sometimes when you become a "grownup", you get to do cool things that you didn't really get to do as a kid. One of those things for me is to carve Halloween pumpkins every year.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/toomany-705435.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/toomany-705430.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a> Yeah yeah, I know, I could have done that as a kid, but hey, I was too busy figuring out who wanted to let me tag along in their trick-er-treating group. Of course, I didn't realize that no one ever really wanted me to go with them. But back then, their excuses sounded reasonable...Anyways, I'm over it now.</p><p> I've been trying to pick and carve pumpkins for Halloween every year, but Halloween seems to always sneak up on me and I have to end up going to multiple stores to find candy the DAY OF because who knew that places (*cough*Target*cough*) RAN OUT OF CANDY before Halloween. I did pick a pumpkin ahead of time though. I took a long lunch this Monday and went to find the most glorious pumpkin I could. So when I got home at 5:50pm today, I ran to the kitchen to get my pumpkin carving supplies and started to cut up that pumpkin. And 20 minutes later I had a hollow pumpkin with two round eyes and a gaping mouth. <img style="float:left; margin:10px 10px 10px 0;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2361/1811024061_7c83ef232a.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" />I get lazier and lazier year after year. At least <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gladiolaroot/sets/72157602821279295/">last year</a> I had two pumpkins. This year I couldn't even get myself to get two pumpkins, let alone make something interesting. I don't even think people got that it was supposed to be a tortured soul. Some people even stepped over it like it wasn't there and didn't have a candle in it that would set their long drapey capes afire. Maybe next year I'll get my act together and come up with something cool.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-7487001882461011161?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-2835396955790483432007-10-12T08:44:00.000-04:002007-10-12T08:47:37.539-04:00Grilling tomatoes is bad<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/knowwhatihate-734246.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/knowwhatihate-734243.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-283539695579048343?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-89994276854572720122007-09-28T08:45:00.000-04:002007-09-28T08:50:55.226-04:00Everything different is actually the same<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/bambooceiling-745052.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/bambooceiling-745049.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-8999427685457272012?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-28645927144940106482007-09-04T08:25:00.000-04:002007-09-16T18:43:35.626-04:00Virtual friends are still friends, aren't they?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/ivegotfriends-792991.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/ivegotfriends-792987.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-2864592714494010648?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-15472661462566099542007-08-27T01:27:00.000-04:002007-08-27T01:30:42.627-04:00I was such a weird kid...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/deardiary-742020.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/deardiary-742017.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-1547266146256609954?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-58618715055331483162007-08-09T23:22:00.000-04:002007-08-09T23:59:02.600-04:00How to get through a day at [large corporation]<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/constructive-734504.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/constructive-734501.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><b>Don't criticize.</b><br />People hate criticism, constructive or not. The minute you shoot down their idea, that's it, you're black-listed. Maybe it's better to keep your mouth shut and silently disagree. Or go behind their back and do something different and apologize later, citing that you didn't hear them tell you no. Whenever I don't agree with someone, I always tell them why and I think I'm being very rational but then people throw me off by saying, "I don't disagree with you." I <i>don't disagree</i> with you? What does that even mean? It's just a way for people to confuse you into thinking that you are allowing them to slip by with their idiot ideas because it's what you want.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/passive-734507.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/passive-734506.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><b>Wait in the sidelines.</b><br />I'm starting to see this being used a lot, it's probably one of those "strategic methodologies" outlined in some cheap business practices book that you can get in the bargain book section at Borders. You know something is wrong, but instead of telling people straight up, you just wait. You wait and wait and wait until the people fail or have an epiphany that they maybe weren't doing the right thing, and then at the very end you swoop in and fix it all (or in reality, it'll be too late and you already have another job or something). Then you're seen as this great savior and the other people learn an important lesson. This method kind of reminds me of how we keep sending our troops to Iraq when it's clearly not working out...and people in the government are just waiting around to watch while the whole thing fails miserably and then in 2008 when we have a new president, then we'll fix it. But until then, we'll just watch and wait, because if you tell people they are wrong, then they'll hate you.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/angry-794278.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/angry-794271.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><b>Don't be an angry crazy-person.</b><br />There was some study that said that angry women in the workplace are seen as unstable and crazy, while angry men are seen as great leaders. It also said that angry women don't get paid as much as emotionless women. (But men regardless of anger levels always get paid more than women.) I wonder how they measured anger? Ok, I admit when I get angry at work, I get pretty crazy too, but that doesn't mean I can't do my job or I don't have good ideas. Yeah, fine, it's true that people don't react well when they are being yelled at. But sometimes it just feels so good, and sometimes people deserve it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/oblivious-794269.gif"><img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/oblivious-794267.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><b>Get an "It's just a job" attitude.</b><br />I wish I could be more like this. Instead of fixating on idiotic people at work or idiot business processeees, I want to just go to work and do work without letting it consume my every thought at all hours of the day.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-5861871505533148316?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7259559.post-34415666316192490842007-08-06T00:22:00.000-04:002007-08-06T00:24:01.626-04:00Overpriced<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/overpriced-715995.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.dammedforlife.com/diary/uploaded_images/overpriced-715991.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7259559-3441566631619249084?l=www.dammedforlife.com%2Fdiary'/></div>newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11873587018719973807noreply@blogger.com2