Destinisia

Have you ever gone somewhere and forgotten why you went? Yeah, that happened to me today...if you saw a woman turning in circles at the grocery store looking perplexed and lost...that was me! Awkward. Yeah, I'm sure people were thinking "Oh, look at that poor girl, she's a little slow." It's called Destinisia. (Thanks Urban Dictionary)

Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, since Anna and I live across the country from each other, we need to talk to each other face to face rather than ear to ear. Mostly because I'm a retard who can't hear people on cell phones and just end up saying "Huh?!" the whole time and nothing gets communicated whatsoever. We could text, but we always have so much to talk about - we'd be thumb lashing each other ourselves into carpal thumbal. So, we use iChat. I love technology (except when it doesn't work) and iChat or Skype - is priceless. One of the best conversations Anna and I have ever had via iChat is shown below. We covered so many topics, talked about all the important things going on in our lives - school, work, kids, boys and...well...you'll see. I have to warn you though, Anna and I have kind of our own language. We are "Agent Zoeys" after all.




Poor Bean was trying to get in on the action.

Etsy Makes Martha Look...Mediocre

I love Etsy. Like an I-have-to-stay-away-or-I-will-go-broke-love. There are so much fantastical hand-made goodies to find, from clothes to toys, art to jewelry. This is not your average craft fair. There are some seriously talented people with seriously cool stuff to sell. Right now Etsy is having a contest...so check it out and vote. Here's who I'm voting for:


by barkingbirdart (special affinity for fellow Portlanders)
who doesn't love a little self sufficient hedgehog?


by littlegirlPearl
this coat is so whimsically retro and happy!


by littleloveblue
mushrooms, felt, blue bells...I am one with the universe.

MMMMARTHA AND ME

A subscriber to Martha's methods I am not. If I get involved in watching her shows or reading her magazine I don't feel that excitement to get up and organize - I get depressed. I am a lower than low maintenance gal when it comes to my house, my yard, my entertaining - wait...I don't entertain. So, it's very out of character that I came across this ccr...ccr...I can say it - just give me a minute...c...r...a...f...t!
I want to have someone make these for me make these and string them all over Bean's room. They're happy little balls of joy.

Here's the "How To" courtesy of Martha Stewart Online:

How to Make the Pom-Poms
You'll need tissue paper and 24-gauge white cloth-covered floral wire.

Hanging Pom-Poms
1. Stack eight 20-by-30-inch sheets of tissue. Make 1 1/2-inchwide accordion folds, creasing with each fold.

2. Fold an 18-inch piece of floral wire in half, and slip over center of folded tissue; twist. With scissors, trim ends of tissue into rounded or pointy shapes.

3. Separate layers, pulling away from center one at a time.

4. Tie a length of monofilament to floral wire for hanging.

NERDY GIRLS ARE DUMB SLUTS?

FIRST I JUST WANT TO CHANGE THE NERDY GIRLS TITLE...I DON'T LIKE THE WORD 'NERD'...NERLIES? GERDYS? (No, sounds too gastrointestinal) NERGILS? I'll sleep on that one.
I was perusing the Talented and Gifted Family forum and come across this article, Smart=Sexy. Smart=Sexy is a snartastical response by Jennifer Ouellette to the negative comments aimed at Phil Plait at Discover Magazine and his post here about supporting the Nerd Girls website. Many of the comments on Phil Plait's post are in response to his supposed chauvinism and whether or not the Nerd Girls are qualified to call themselves Nerd Girls. But here's my favorite comment:

"I am all about equality of all kinds. However, there is one line I wish to comment on. Not sure where you were going with it, so I will just add my piece.
'It (can be) hard to promote this. Society can sometimes just see women as sexual objects, which is unfair.' (Phil's quote)

It is not unfair that sometimes women are seen only as sexual objects. It is their wish too. If I walk down the street and can:
A- See your belly button ring
B- See what color/style underwear you have on
C- Do a 3/4 visual breast exam without you removing your clothes
etc, then that is exactly how I will see you, as an object for my sexually viewing pleasure."

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!
I was told there were people in the world who blame women for their chauvinism. But wow, here's a real life example for me. I would have understood had he said "Hey, I'm a man and when I see a woman, I often see her as a sexual object," because at least he wouldn't be blaming his behavior on women and what they wear.

I know nothing about Phil Plait and won't comment as to whether he is chauvinistic. His support of females in the science industry is cool. 'Nuff said.

I do, however, get caught up in the topic of whether girls should concern themselves, as they are growing up, with makeup, clothes, jewelry and such other toxic items that might objectify them as...wait for it...FEMININE! And yes, the many double standards that us girls and women have to endure make me cringe and then other bad bodily things happen because I'm getting old. Really though, studies show that good looking people are taken more seriously than their ugly counterparts yet, admit it...many people assume if a woman is pretty...she must not be that smart. If a girl or a woman explores her appearance is she shallow? Is she asking to be objectified? Does it dilute her intelligence? Those are rhetorical questions.

My concern is this: How do we raise girls in this culture and era to find their identity and feel confident, happy, grounded without the fear that looking pretty too is just asking to be degraded?

I grew up a (here it comes...look out) "Nerd", caring about my appearance, liking girly things AND boyish things. I learned as a 13 year old Amer-Asian girl that dying my hair blonde (which turned out orange) to look like Madonna was a need to explore how I felt about not being the stereotypical blonde, blue-eyed girl-next-door (literally) and a way to accept my Asian heritage and beauty among mostly Caucasian peers. I also piled on the blue eye shadow and pink lipstick 'til there was a shortage in the makeup industry, testing my perspective of what pretty was. And the mini-skirt I wore that one day, attracted the wrong kinds of guys, ew. All this while doing independent studies in calculus. These were extremely valuable lessons for me. THANK YOU MOM! I know it gave you arthritis.

Children will explore their gender identity - like my friend's 5 year old son who is curious about dressing up in a tutu and my daughter who wants to wear her brother's clothes one day and a princess costume another.

Let girls discover who they are without judging them. Let girls explore their intelligence while exploring their femininity. We can't make assumptions as to what it means from their perspective - then we're proposing we are all-knowing, and we aren't are we? You can't discount the psychological process of exploring one's appearance as part of exploring one's personality and identity.
Do people who criticize the exploration of femininity have children? Because there is a great lesson in raising kids: Some things are innate.
There are groups of people everywhere who are happy and confident with who they are and want to tell about it. GREAT! If we have a problem with that, we need to take a hard look at ourselves and ask, "What is it about me that elicits the need to focus energy on criticizing others' confidence and choices in appearance?"
I understand that makeup, nice clothes and jewelry do not make a girl. But if a girl wants those things that does not make her a sellout. We have too many stereotypes in this country. Men who like to dress well and use hair products are metrosexual...huh? Girls who wear baggy jeans and short hair are dikes...wha?
Are we assuming that the young women from NERD GIRLS were held down against their will, smothered in makeup and forced to pose for a picture so the blogger could make a point?

When we start dictating what girls should or shouldn't be doing with their appearance while exploring their identity...that's when the problems begin. Let a girl try out blue hair and focus on teaching her to be kind, honest and trustworthy. You know, girls will find a way, no matter what anyone tells them to do, to express themselves through their appearance. Boys too. It's a natural part of growing up. And if we focus on supporting their confidence, some of them will look back when they're 30 and say, "Why the hell did I wear all that makeup? That was a phase I learned from." And some of them might say, "Thank God I was allowed to explore my identity...I am a happy healthy adult because of it."

If a girl wants to declare that she is smart AND likes makeup, jewelry and clothes - and it makes her feel confident...THEN LET HER BE!

And as Jennifer Ouellette says in Smart=Sexy, "But just because some guys can be immature jerks is no reason to teach our young girls that therefore, they shouldn't wear pretty clothes and makeup because it's just asking to be harassed and/or not be taken seriously. If the guys' attitudes are the problem, why are we placing the onus for behavioral modification on the girls? We should be enlightening the guys instead, not making excuses for them ("That's just how men are"). Dudes! It's the 21st century! Evolve already!"
I second that emotion.

DISPATCH FROM THE BITE OF OREGON

As my PR Consulting business grows, I am most happy with the new and exciting world of the music industry. As I dig deeper into the unknown that is Dan Reed and his career, I will chronicle my experiences in this blog. The following is a look at 1. J's shaky video hand (but I so love you for being my camera man!) 2. My amateur editing abilities 3. Dan's amazing concert at The Bite of Oregon at Tom McCall Waterfront Park. Check out Jay Mack and his smooth rhymes...

ANNA CHRONICLES

i'm just now realizing how insane i am to move to one of the biggest cities in the world, by myself. i've been living here for 6 months, and i'm LITERALLY just NOW realizing how insane i am. woah crazy

i'm all alone in this wonderful city. sometimes i'm paranoid, sometimes i'm lonely, sometimes i'm excited, sometimes i'm disgusted, i'm all these different things every second of every day. but all the time i'm happy to be here.

i think my life is a mess right now. and i know exactly what i have to do to fix it. and i just can't figure out why i haven't done it yet. i don't know if it's because i'm scared or if it's because i am lazy. either way...earlier this evening i was feeling pretty sorry for my lonely self because of a million reasons that really don't matter but after about 5 minutes i decided to stop feeling sorry for myself (yay me!) and to start doing something (YAY YAY ME!). i always know i will feel much better after i do something. but for some reason when i feel sorry for myself i think i just want to sit and "feel the pain" and really i will feel much better once i do something. even if that something is as small as taking a shower. it really helps. i wonder why....
POSTED BY ANNA

GOOD GOD, IS THERE A LIFE COACH IN THE HOUSE?

My plate is full. Overflowing in fact. And what do I do? Pile more on. But I NEED to do just one more important thing, she says while the foster dog is hopping incessantly on her hind legs making a repetitive noise not unlike an abused clarinet, the pot bellied pom-poo who's bark collar has turned her into a tibetan throat singer is...making that noise, the cockatiel is whistling obscenities at me and Bean has the TV blasting in her attempt to drown out the noise. Why do I have a foster dog? Because I'm trying to save the world one dog at a time. Why do I want to add more to my plate? Because I'm a glutenous, perfectionist task hog who thinks life can only get that much better if I just...So here's the list:

1. Write in my journal. I've enlisted Hasslebot to remind me of this everyday. So far I've deleted all the email reminders first thing each morning.

2. Start teaching a hip-hop class for kids and teens. Why? Because dance is in my soul, part of who I am, my method of expression - er...and I couldn't say no.

3. Use Wii Fit with Logue half an hour every other day. He's thinks it's cool and I'm in to the really hot trainer on there.

4. Join my friend Stephanie in September for the Cookie-ing Through challenge. My jaw just clenched and cramped thinking about Cookie-fying my life. But hey, it's only one month!

5. Stand-up Paddle as much as I can with Jay while the weather is still nice. We're going for the Laird Hamilton/Gabby Reece super cool couple look and image. Except I need to grow another foot and a half.

I think I need a life coach to help me find another 2 hours per day in my life.
But then I'd probably just spend the time watching my new favorite animated shorts, Miniscule. 'Cause when I'm feeling miniscule, you know like when your kid tells you your not fixing dinner at the right time, or that you forgot to feed her lunch? This'll help.



Warning: Bug death may be too upsetting for some viewers.

No Bean, they're not real bugs in real life.



Oh, and I really want to work on becoming a rock star. Thoughts?

My head rolled off my neck in New York

When I went to New York recently, I promised myself I would take some dance classes again. I haven't danced in a really long time. For someone who was a professional dancer for 13 years, not dancing has been a source of frustration, to say the least. I've been meaning to go to a class for the last five years and just couldn't fit it in my schedule! Actually, every time I tried to go to a dance class, aliens would swoop down, take me to their home planet and beat me senseless, then drop me back home unable to remember what happened.
Really, I'm just using sarcasm as my defense mechanism for feeling vulnerable. Dim lights, cue violins: For the past five years I've been held prisoner in my own body. I went from a professional dance career to an eating disorder and a subsequent neck injury that left me deeply depressed and wondering why I felt so cheated and crippled. It didn't dawn on me that my time dancing was something to be grateful for, not something to expect I deserved unconditionally without appreciating it or like freakin' going to the doctor when I couldn't move my head because it felt like it would just roll right off my neck, across the floor, off a cliff and then I'd really be screwed. No, it took me a while to be a grown up and take care of my aching body after years of neglect. But I finally did! (Thank you Dr. Sibel and the OHSU Pain Center). And the reward was going back to New York to do some dancing.

I left the Hip Hop class options in Anna's hands, but I jumped at her suggestion to go to some guy named Jonte's class. It seemed especially cool because apparently Jonte' was a Jefferson Dancer (I myself am an alum) a looooonnng time after I graduated and has choreographed for Beyonce among other celebs. I have always loved Hip Hop and somehow knowing that I was going to be 20 years older than most if not all of the dancers in the class didn't really bother me. I was going to DANCE! Get my groove on.

The class began...at warp speed...with moves like I've never seen on MTV, BET, SYTYCD...even in a porn movie - let alone gotten my body to do. But, holy flippin' sh*^! This Jonte' can dance. There were about 20 of us crammed into a tiny studio with no air conditioning on a 98 degree, 90% humidity day in Manhattan. You had your serious Hip Hoppers, all buck'd out with their baggy sweats, clunky sneaks and bad attitudes, your "Front Row Hoes" as I call them, just dying to be noticed and the rest of us in between. And in between I was glad to be because after all those head snaps and neck roll moves, the floor soaked with sweat and people flailing to do the choreography, I felt safe knowing that somebody would be there to catch my head when it flew off my neck. I was in PAIN. I remembered this pain. It was mind bending, brain wave scrambling, pulsating pain. And what did I do? Ignore it. Ha! Did I not learn anything after all?! It felt so good to remember what it was like to move my body, to feel like a young dancer rather than the old and crippled me I felt for so long. Then I fast forwarded to the present me, a woman with fibromyalgia, two herniated discs and arthritis in her neck... slapped myself a good one, and stood on the side doing the moves without moving my head. It was....sublime. Besides, after some ice, 26 anti-inflammatory pills, I was just fine.

If you haven't seen Jonte' dance, you are missing out. Check it out below. (He's the one in the striped sweatshirt who moves like no other human can)



If you want to watch more, I recommend the video labeled "Jonte" and "Jonte & Victor."

Sleepless City Productions

Sleepless City Productions Official Blog

I want to introduce Noah Shulman, the phenom behind The Dictator music video for Dan Reed. Director, editor, visual effects...he's the s*@^!

Here's some behind the scenes photos from the video shoot.

The Dictator

I do PR for Dan and I know, you're thinking "Great, just another selfish promotion on a blog." But the catch is, I don't do PR for Dan because I want the work. I do it because he has a purpose with his music. I do it because behind every word he sings is a passion for humans to have peace...from the core of his being he embraces the concept that we all want to be safe, to have love, to have health, to not be scared, to not be abused. Dan is powerful and yet eloquent and I can't see the music world without him. I believe we can make our world better, I believe in the good in all of us. I believe Dan's music is a path to a better way, therefore I share his work.



How can you make a difference?

Welcome to the 21st Century of Design

Since Jay works in product development and design for a rather large company, he gets exposed to some great...stuff. The above object was a piece in an exhibition at the FUEL Collection in Philadelphia called Scripted by Purpose last September. All participants were restricted to two rules: 1. All entries had to involve a scripting technique (you know like computer programming code) 2. All codes and custom tools must be displayed next to the work as open source. (Yeah, I don't get that part either)

OK, so like, I was good at math, am addicted to NUM3ERS (In my next life, I'm going to be an FBI forensic mathmetician), I can hold my own helping Logue with algebra homework - wait, does that count? Suffice it to say, math is cool and to see design and architecture utilizing mathematics and coding to evolve the design process is even cooler. But, that's as techie as I get. Here's an exerpt of the foreword from Neil Leach, one of the contributors:

"The apparent primacy of these codes opens up the possibility of modeling systems through digital means, and with it the possibility of using digital means to breed structures. An emerging group of young architects is using the technique of ‘scripting’ – the manipulation of digital code – to produce radically innovative architectural environments. A new generation of structures is being created, that recognizes the potential of the computer not just as a sophisticated drafting and rendering tool, but as a potentially powerful tool in the generation of designs themselves."

About the submission:

biot(h)ing is a research-design laboratory whose structure derives from particular linkages between various disciplinary and technological nodes, promoting intra-specific creative relationships which in turn serve as a transformative tissue for the design process itself. An algorithmic articulation of the relation between the corporeal and incorporeal i s biot(h)ing’s attempt to engage with complexity.

Dude, brain freeze. I really just wanted to post this 'cause I likey the picture.

The Best Conversation I've Had Ever

Yesterday, Bean and I were driving to work (my little children's clothing boutique) and we started talking about her hair. Now just remember, this child is 8 years old.



Me: Honey, I think if you're going to grow your hair out we should trim it.

Bean: Yeah, ok.

Me: I could do it, but maybe we should have Bob at the Barber Shop next to our store cut it real quick.

Bean: Bob? BOB?

Me: Yeah, he used to cut ladies hair at the MAC club, you know where Jujube belongs?

Bean: BOB at a BARBERSHOP!?

Me: Yes, honey, I just think it would be quicker than mommy doing it.

Bean: Mama, THIS GIRL IS OF THE AGE WHERE SHE WILL NOT GO INTO A BARBERSHOP TO GET HER HAIRCUT!

Me: Yes Maam.

Social Consciousness Lives!

I was just getting settled in to write my most fabulous and insightful review of Pixar's latest film Wall*e, when I happened to come across my new friend and fellow blogger, PR Mama's similar post. What can I say? She just said it better! (bitch)
Therefore, I humbly stand aside and give you this:
















Must-see moment: Wall*E meets Saturn’s rings (via L.A. Times)


Dispatch from the Edgewater NJ Multiplex

While Professional Me has been exposed lots to the usually unpleasant inner workings of the entertainment industry, Private Me still finds it possible to watch a movie in open-mouthed, awe-struck, teary-eyed wonder. You know what I’m talking about — the burning of Atlanta in “Gone with the Wind.” The massive Imperial Stardestroyer rumbling like some prehistoric beast into the opening frames of “Star Wars: A New Hope.” Dorothy stepping out of her tornado-tossed house into a vivid Technicolor Oz. Hell, I even go ga-ga watching dead Patrick Swayze push that penny towards Demi Moore’s face, as that one impeccable tear wells and spills down her (as-yet surgically unaltered) cheek…

So add “Wall*E” to my list of wonder-inducing, tear-inspiring movie experiences. Visually stunning, funny, sweet, suspenseful — and all without benefit of much dialogue to speak of, mega A-list celebrity voice performances, Disney Channel hyper-promotion, or Happy Meal trinkets. (Although I will say, my son and I hot-footed it right from the movie theater to the nearest Blockbuster to rent the Nintendo DS version of the “Wall*E” game…so am not completely immune to the siren call of tie-in merchandise…)

And the movie happens to have a message. One that I’m sure some jackass right-of-center pundit will jump on as irresponsibly pushing a liberal eco-nazi agenda on the impressionable minds of today’s moviegoing young (remember all the “Happy Feet” brouhaha?)

Puh-lease. How about this message? Earth is a pretty great place to live. Litter really stinks. It’s easy not to litter, which is one way to keep Earth a pretty great place to live. Easy soundbite for the 5-year old in my house to digest, and pretty non-partisan at that.
For more on “Wall*E” and the marketing (or non-marketing) genius of Disney/Pixar, check out this terrific post from Seth Godin. (Thanks to Jon Cronin for the heads-up.)

Thank you Stephanie!

The neurotic, evil, spaz of a dog, Chloe

I was reminded yesterday of why I call our dog, Chloe, the neurotic, evil spaz.
For one, it came to my attention that in the thesaurus, "black" is a synomym for evil (OK, that's WRONG and is a whole other discussion for another time - believe me I will get to it...BUT, I didn't write the thesaurus and I am ONLY applying this to my dog...so no racist accusations necessary) - and Chloe is a BLACK Doodleman. Note to self: off our other black dog before it's too late.

B. Chloe was sitting on the couch on the floor with half of her body on me, as usual, chewing on a sock, when holy SHIT! Read: sharp stabbing pain. She bit my leg! I turned to her in horror and disbelief looking for answers. Her eyes just said "dude, I seriously thought that was the sock."
I can see the similarities completely--sock: black & fuzzy...leg: peaches, cream & fuzzy perfectly smooth. Don't think you fool me for one second you devil child of a dog.

III. Later, I heard that all too familiar grunting and snarfing sound that always makes me jump to attention and beeline for the kitchen--and there she was, with a whole stick of butter in her mouth, drool rapidly pooling under her, looking at me like "Whaddya gonna do now? He he."
The following slapstick routine ensued: She ran, I chased her, slipped in her drool, fell, regained my composure, tried to act all bad-ass, caught up to her and...
cowered as she growled and I watched her eat the butter. CRAP! Literally.

Then I remembered Caesar Milan. We love his show because it reminds us we're not the only neurotic dog owners, I mean owners of a neurotic dog. Being the quick witted, eloquent gal I am, I'm all, "Chloe! You're such a....a...ffff...Baaad dog! Baaad Baaaaaad Dog!" At least for the moment I felt like I was taking control (I know Caesar, I know, I suck).
Trying to draw from all the obedience training I'd been taught, I got down to her level and told her that what she's done is not only sick and wrong but I won't be smelling her farts later when she's in her time-out, NOT enjoying the evening fun and games. Oh, shoot, isn't that a parenting technique from Supernanny? Whatever.

I blame this all on my husband myself. As Caesar Milan says, "A bad dog is the reflection of the owner, not the dog." Well I say, she looks nothing like me!

Thank You. Kind of.

This card, from Pretty Bitter Cards, took the words right out of my mouth. The sarcasm is so right up my ally, it's like the writers said "Here Claire, take a load off. We know just what you want to say." I'll be buying of few of their Dirty Doilies Cards too! Here's an excerpt from the Thank You card:

Wow. I can't believe you. Most of the time when people do something nice for me, I just brush it off, but this time, it was different. You really surprised me--like that time I walked in on my parents doing it. That was awkward...This was better than that. It was, you know, special. And I guess that really is a reflection on you. I mean, not that you're special or anything. You're kind of a pill.

See, now you know, I'm not that nice of a person...