When did "screwing up" become acceptable?

I'm seeing this in all sorts of groups I've been part of: bands, running clubs, etc... where people freely admit they've made mistakes, their friends tell them "it's okay", and life goes on. For instance, I was being driven bananas at a band rehearsal recently, when we had to keep on replaying the same section of a song over and over again due to someone's constant "I lost my place in the music again," said with a coy smile. Why the hell is that okay? And various running clubs I've been part of: the same people will come back week after week confessing that they hadn't run in two weeks and they'd been "bad". Am I supposed to validate your existence every single time?

So I'm not your cop. I'm not the police of your life. But sometimes, these situations affect others -- namely me. I'm focused enough on my music to know where we are -- or at least only lose my place once, learn from that, and keep focused. And if I set running goals that require more than once-weekly running, I'll stick to it and entirely eat the blame if something goes wrong.

But society accepts the "I screwed up; am I still OK?" method far too easily these days. I don't get it. Perhaps it ties in to the Catholic confessional idea, where people go to confessional, say "I'm sorry, I slept with twelve different men this week" and they're told "20 Hail Marys, and don't do it again." What do you bet this same person comes back the following week, saying "well... I tried, but I still slept with 11 men this week"? What kind of punishment has the person received? Not to get into a religious argument over how accepting God is or isn't of sinners, but this takes things to the extreme.

So as things go, if you confess your sins, you're absolved, and life goes on. It just annoys the hell out of me. Why was I raised to be so responsible... life would be so much easier otherwise.

mere paperwork != success, plus education rant.

I'm teaching a nonmajors chemistry class right now. I was totally flummoxed when one of my Running Start students (advanced high school student) asked me why her grade was so low, since she'd turned in all of her homework.

Methinks... dear, you've gotten most of the homework problems wrong. This is why your grade is so low, eh...

And then, our lab tech set me straight. I live in south Snohomish County -- not overcrowded yet, but one of the fastest growing regions of the state. House prices and overdevelopment show it. Unfortunately the schools "can't keep up" (lame excuse, in my opinion)... as a result, students will turn in homework for all of their classes and receive full credit just for turning it in.

!!! What does this tell today's kids? Just by showing up for work and not doing anything, you can keep your job? (Ahem. Pardon me, that was the last place I worked.) In any case, it's the wrong message to send...

Crazy, I tell you... and just plain wrong.

risks.

It's about time I take some risks in life. Most Americans play it safe. I criticize these people, and I don't want to be the pot who calls the kettle black.

A few years back, I realized that the older people I found more interesting were those who'd done a lot with their lives. For instance, my grandfather flew planes over India in WWII, he was a telephone lineman both on the ground and as a manager, he helped found a city in the '50's, he was the mayor of said city for a while... lots of variety. In any case, I decided that I wanted to be one of these people -- 20-30 years from now, others will be flocking to hear my stories. (Yeah, right. But it's a goal.)

Last year was a big blow for me, with all of my health issues... namely the daily migraines for months at a time. I'm not letting that stop me this year.

So, here's the list of goals for this year (which I meant to write up after New Year's Eve, but new job and all, yada yada):
*Perform my original music for the public. DONE, and I have a few more slots lined up.
*Record my original music to sell/give away. Just bought the last pieces of recording equipment (I think) today. Recorded one rough draft of a track.
*Market myself as a one-chick band... have done so to two places. Need to do more.
*Learn to say "buh-bye" to bad musical situations. Done with one of them... read the previous post.
*On another subject... I also started teaching spinning and Pilates classes at my gym, something that was a hurdle for me, something I'd wanted to do for a while. I've been doing 1-2 hours a week for the past month (and gotten a free gym membership, to boot). Getting paid to work out... :D :D
*But perhaps the toughest will be... my 30+-year estranged father lives in Tucson with his wife and daughter. I'll be passing through the area in about a month or so. I'm trying to get up the nerve... to email him, to meet them, whatever. It's taking a *lot* out of me.

If I can conquer that last fear, everything else will seem easy in comparison. And now, it's been made public.

i always thought my first time would be better

Somewhere, I have a t-shirt I bought from one of my many Rush shows. It has a Neil Peart-ism scribbled front and back, which I can't remember exactly for the life of me (bad, bad fan), but something along the lines of "If you want something done right, do it yourself".

Which was exactly how I felt last night.

Most of you know that I've been a budding singer-songwriter for a while, me and my pianner. I've come this close to making recordings/CDs to give to my adoring fans... er, patient friends and family, and I've been stymied every step of the way.

Last night, I shared the stage with a group of musicians (who shall remain nameless) at the Wayward Coffeehouse in Greenwood. One of the group is someone I've played with for a few years; and when I heard this group takes the stage at the coffeehouse every few weeks, I figured, what better place for my music. I don't have enough material to fill a two-hour slot, but I could squeeze a few minutes out of the jazz band's slot, right?

Not to mention that the jazz band was needing a sax sub, indefinitely. And I hardly ever get to play my horns. I decided to join up for the short term.

So, two weeks ago, I played with them at the Wayward in a slight fit of disorganization, but I'm kind of anal about being organized for the public -- so maybe it was just me.

Last night was the public debut of my original music. I'd played for friends in my house, I'd played for friends at their houses, but never for the absolute public. I had a few friends planted in the audience.

But disorganization and good performances are mutually exclusive, and I could kick myself for not giving this more weight. We started out shuffling the schedule because one girl forgot her music and had to have it retrieved in Redmond; mildly annoying, but no biggie. A few songs later, and I was ready to roll. The band cleared out of the seating area, leaving me at my keyboard, and the band leader constantly adjusting the mic.

As I played the opening verse of This Time, I thought the amp/speakers were peaking out -- I sounded fuzzy even for me. I kept going, but shouldn't have. If I could hear it from behind the speakers, what was the audience hearing? I looked over at Bruce, and he made a face indicating that it was bad. I slipped an under the breath "can you fix it" in between sung words.

But the musicians in the main band were totally oblivious. They had "no idea" what was wrong, and were apparently just so awestruck that I could play and sing at the same time. How can you not notice, and call yourself a musician?

In any case, toward the end of my song, the leader of the group adjusted the soundboard as I played. And kept adjusting. More and more. I chose the first song to be a dramatic entrance, and that was totally destroyed by the sound issues. I played a bunch of random stuff, she kept turning the dials. The audience sat there, waiting for us to get things together.

Thing is, I thought everything had been sound-checked. I was told that it had been. Heck, I saw them testing it all! My keyboard and mic were going to be used at another point during the gig by someone else, and checking had been taken care of. So I was told.

The rest of my little performance went off without a hitch. I was barely nervous... felt my hands shaking a bit on the keyboard, but not much. Had some brief inter-song commentary, but I minimized that -- especially since there was a big gap between my first two songs, trying to work on the sound. But I had a lot of ground to make up, after that first song.

And I did it. My first time performing my original songs publicly. I was told they were "good" and that my performance was good, but I'm sure it could've been much better under other circumstances.

But what should I expect? This is the band where some people have their music in disarray up until the last second, and the leader changes the set list while on stage. This is the band where some people are constantly losing their place, and nearly yelling "where are we?" without covering up the mic -- yes, the audience heard every last piece of that. The disorganized chatting among band members between songs, as if it were a rehearsal. And worst -- none of them recognized that all of this was a problem.

All in all, the most unprofessional gig I've played. I think, in the end, despite the sound problems, my little segment was the most professional of the batch.

Unfortunately for this, as with other things in life, I won't get another chance at a "first time". But next time, I'm not going to rely on others -- I'm going to do it myself. And I can always fake that it's my first time.

misfortune cookies

My family loves gags, practical jokes, etc. Since we spent this Christmas with my CaliFamily, and I found a timely recipe for fortune cookies, I thought it appropriate to make some "misfortune cookies" for them.

Unfortunately the cookie recipe ended up bland. (British book -- there ya go.) But I had fun coming up with fortunes such as

You will lose 10 pounds overnight.
Good fortune will find you in 2004. (of course, too late)
This cookie was inspected by Homeland Security.
I am Fortune W. Cookie, and I approve this message.

Y'know, silly things like that. I think I had 12 total. Additionally, I had some paste food coloring (which may have altered the taste as well, but I couldn't find dry food color) and dyed half bright red and half bright green.

Some of my family really got into them. Unfortunately there were a few who were caught up in other things and didn't seem to pay attention. But, the few people I had breaking open cookie after cookie -- not to eat, mind you, but to read the fortune -- made it worth it.

robbery/beating on the street where I grew up

They say you can never go home. That's never been truer than it was today.

I'm visiting family for the holidays in Newark, CA. Bruce had stayed home, while my mom and I went out for a bit more Christmas shopping. We were about to make the left turn onto my mom's street when... a guy had stopped his car in the middle of the intersection, his door open, his hand in the air, shouting, "Call the police!"

He just stood there, saying nothing else, so we figured he wasn't all there. My mom drove around him and down a few driveways to her house. Meanwhile, two teenage-looking kids ran down to the end of the street. I thought nothing of it.

When we pulled in the driveway and got out of the car, the guy told us a bit more. An elderly woman had been walking down the cross street; the girl (running down the street) had punched the woman and the pair stole her purse. They dropped the purse having run most of the way down the street, but the poor woman had fallen to the ground, scraping up her hands, face, and legs.

My mom called the police and took a wet rag out to comfort and clean up the woman. Within seconds, the police had arrived. (Must say, I'm impressed with their response time.) We all did our best to describe the situation -- but to my horror, the guy who told us to call, in the first place, had already left. Wouldn't he have been the best witness?

Meanwhile, neighbors gathered around to show their support. Two or more police cars were parked where the purse had been found (minus $60, but otherwise intact), which was across the street from my mom's house and in front of my aunt and uncle's house. (During this time, said aunt and uncle pulled into the driveway, probably wondering at the police gathering in front of the house...)

As things went, I ended up being the primary witness other than the woman herself. I didn't even see the kids from the front -- only from 20-30 feet away. I felt helpless, wishing I could add more to their description. Still, the officer was appreciative.

But what really got me was something she said: "Sounds like the usual suspects."

???? When did such suspects start entering my hometown? Sure, it was never wealthy or high-class, but it was a community of people who got along and cared for each other. Now, it's filled with hate crimes against various ethnic groups, silly petty theft, and communities against one another.

Back in the '70's, I could go into any business in the city of Newark, and my family was known: "My daughter was in your mom's 1st grade class" or "You're H's granddaughter, aren't you?" Newark, you've come a long way -- you're no longer a bunch of neighbors caring for each other. If there were only a way to nip the crime in the bud.

And therefore, I can never truly go back home, because my home no longer exists.

'round midnight

Funny story my mom related to me.

She has a black cat named Midnight. He's quite the talker.

One day, my mom was working out in the yard, and Midnight was in the house by himself. Apparently... her friend Cathy called. Well, Midnight somehow was able to brush by the phone, knocking over the receiver. Cathy said, "Hello?" and Midnight merrowed back. This went back and forth a few times until Cathy finally gave up. Of course, my mom didn't find out until later told by Cathy...

So there you have it... cats really do talk on the phone.

apprentice redux

For the first time in my life, I was compelled to contact someone from a reality TV show.

Crazy, huh? Well, Bruce and I are certifiable Apprentice junkies. We've learned a lot about group dynamics watching the show... expetcing impending train wrecks... contrasting the maverick Trump (whom we both admire) with the overly cautious Martha (of whom we now have a lesser opinion). Most people watch for the cat fights. We watch to figure out how they could be avoided.

While Trump's candidates, this season, were mostly great picks, there was much dysfunctionality on the Martha show. So many women seemingly fraid of confrontation (not that I'm the best with it myself, but it's something you gotta ge tused to in business). No one was a stand-out candidate, the whole time I watched the show.

But Jim grew on me. Quickly. Everyone hated him as the loud-mouth, the egoist. I have no idea why TWoP and others called him Hateful Jim -- I didn't see the hate! Me, I saw raw talent. I saw drive. I saw someone who has tons of creative ideas whom I'd love to work with. In the end, the MSLO people got tired of his treating the show as a "game" -- that business is not a "game". Like hell, it's not! Conversely, a company must always strategize about getting customers on board with them, and not with the competitor.

In the end, Jim was third to last fired on the show, leaving behind two women whom I'm sure are great employees, but I'm not sure they're leadership material. One of them seems to be focused on small tasks and forgetting about the big picture (and leaving some of the details to fall behind if need be, to get the whole event working). The other one seems less creative and not dynamic enough. Yet this is who Martha wants to work for her. Cryin' shame, if you ask me.

And this is why, for the first time in my life, I had to Google someone to send them a note of support. I found Jim's website and emailed him (and got a response today!). What compelled me was that everyone -- and I mean, everyone, from Apprentice message boards, to chats with my personal friends, to TWoP -- had nothing but negativity to say about him. Jim seems like a strong guy, and this would probably roll right off his back; but I thought... can't hurt. After all, why pass on an opportunity to form a potential new relationship? He was very appreciative. Too bad he lives 2500 miles away... I'd much rather work for him than any of the schmucks I've sold my soul to over the past 10 years.

garage band

Here I am in Cali, at my mom's house. I'm playing with her new Mac G5 -- namely, Garage Band. I'm having fuuuunnnn. :D

The first set of tracks I made: I recorded myself singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat -- then copied and pasted twice so I'd be a round. Then, behind that, I added a funk drum riff and a funk horn section.

I've listened to this far too many times. However, I need an 1/8 in RCA adapter to plug in my mic. Hopefully will get that soon.

midway through the southwest

RIP, perfect record. Until today, Southwest Airlines had a record of no deaths in any accident. Today, a child on the ground was killed.

The irony being... three months ago, I flew into Midway Airport on Southwest. While there was no snow, there was torrential rain. The turbulence coming in was horrible. We circled many times, waiting for the runway to open. I was a bit nervous.

Then, we flew over the airport, and I saw the runway. That tiny thing? I got more nervous.

We then came in for the approach. SLAM! and the brakes went on, hard. We made it to the gate unscathed, but again, I was a bit shaky.

Afterward, we learned that at Midway, the planes pretty much have to be slammed down and brought to a screeching halt, given the small airport size. I was also surprised, riding out of the airport on a cab, that less than a block away, there were residences, businesses... nothing that you'd typically see right up against an airport -- which, I'm sure, contributed to today's accident.

When we landed at Midway, I had no desire to land there again. Now... I really don't want to go to Midway. Some airports (perhaps prior to the jet era) are becoming outdated...

shaken, not stirred

My new favorite frou-frou dessert drink:

Mix a standard kahlua'n'cream over ice. Add one shot butterscotch schnapps. Shake and serve in a martini glass. (nice little frothy frothy on top.)

Kind of... mocha roca.

Serendipity.

First, let me start out by saying that my parents divorced when I was 2, and I don't know my father. My only paternal uncle died in '83 of kidney failure.

From my paternal grandparents, I knew that I had two other cousins from that side of the family, somewhere. Just didn't know where. But I remembered their names.

So I Googled them -- in this day and age, why not? I didn't find the older one, but I found the younger one, who is heading toward pharmacy school (a woman after my own heart!!). I read her website. But I didn't write.

So imagine my surprise when, last night, I got an email from Megan, the same cousin I found over Google! She'd found me a while back but didn't have the guts to write (guilty, myself!) until her husband egged her on. Both of us have lost touch with our fathers' family, so it's weird... and cool... to have this sort of connection again.

Of course, I emailed her back immediately. But what a fabulous surprise!

Energy musings.

Bruce and I have had an ambitious recent project: now that we own two diesel cars (MB '76 240D and MB '93 300D) and I have a chemistry background, we're working on a "brew your own biodiesel" project.

Many people have been inspired to tank up their diesel cars with biodiesel, which is the result of taking good quality waste vegetable oil, freeing the fatty acids from their ester bonds, and retaining the free fatty acids to use as fuel. Some eco-friendly areas sell bd, but at quite a cost -- $3-4 gallon. Which is fine for the people who have purely an environmental motivation...

But then, there's us. It's all about recycling. Everyone working together. It all makes sense. A restaurant, rather than paying for oil disposal, gives the oil to someone like me, at no cost. I then use the oil in my processor and use it to fuel my car. It doesn't tap so much into limited world fossil fuel resources, true; but to me, it's all about the Circle of Life (cue corny music).

We're on the final construction phases of a larger processor -- I've got the process working great on a small-scale basis.

This past week, while avoiding Black Friday and Black Monday in the US, we were chatting with a friend in Granville Island, Vancouver (one of my most favorite places anywhere) who owns a small yet popular store, Dragonspace. After a while, we developed an interesting idea, if we get the time/money/resources: what if Bruce and I could gather supplies for an appleseed processor to make the biodiesel, and ship it overseas to a community in, say, Africa or South America where fuel is otherwise scarce? Not only would it be a great "feel good" thing for us to do, but again -- it just makes sense.

Which gives me another goal in life towards which I can work. I was feeling depressed and goal-less for a while. This one's pretty lofty, but it's better than just sitting in a rut.

On Occasional Blogging

I've had a blog-revolution, mentally.

Here I was for a while, happy to blog, proud of my frequent brain-spills into cyberspace. It forced me to think outside of the box, and it became my "editorial section", as it were.

Then the stifling occurred. I overheard coworkers and friends talking about blogs, how they'd "never spend time reading about someone else's life" etc. I felt this tall, as though I'd been spouting mindless drivel all this time... and quit blogging.

But now...

Maybe it is drivel. Maybe no one reads what I have to say. But dagnabbit, I gotta write. I gotta vent my thoughts somewhere. Poor Bruce hears too many of 'em, natch.

So to those who claim they dislike blogs and don't care about what I have to say: PHBTTTTT! I'm writing anyway.

Now, on to a real post...

my jeopardy top 10

Time for me to try a little experiment. If I share a top 10 list, will my friends/family/fans/enemies also add a few of their top 10 lists on the "comments" section? (HINT!!! HINT!!!)

In any case, this will be one of a series. Hearkening back to Douglas Coupland's Microserfs, some friends and I chatted with each other about... if you were on Jeopardy, what would your fantasy categories be, ranging from the sublime to the insane?

It's also interesting to hear your friends answer this question for you. Bruce, who has always compared every area to his hometown (generally with ill-favor), would have the fantasy category "Everything except Port Washington sucks because..." (He's a wee bit obsessed with his hometown.)

Without further ado, here's my top ten fantasy Jeopardy categories. (Yeah. I know you only get 6 on the real show. So sue me.)

1. Organic chemistry reaction mechanisms
2. Music theory
3. Amusing and obscure ways to injure oneself (trust me on this one)
4. Why you shouldn't go to grad school (I dropped out fourth year)
5. Progressive metal bands
6. The worst puns in the world (again, trust me -- or anyone around me -- on this one)
7. Things you'll find in a gourmet market
8. Obscure pop culture trivia (without even trying)
9. How not to avoid a hair-coloring accident
10. How to max out your dental insurance in 5 months

So! That's what I've come up with for myself. Do you have a top ten (or three, or five) list? Does anyone have any other categories they'd suggest for me??? (evil grin) Comment!!!

color my world

Forgive me this indulgence.

The past few days, when out running (fastidiously taping toes together), I have seen so much beautiful spring color... rhodys, lilacs, azaleas, forget-me-nots, other flowers totally unknown to me... it's incredible!

Bruce always laughs at me when I talk about this. You see, he's also from a lush land -- Long Island. His mom lives on a tree-lined country road.

Me, I'm from somewhere resembling a dry, barren wasteland with urban sprawl thrown on top. Lots of dust and dryness. There was the occasional planter filled with various flower types, and the lantana are nice during their brief blooming season (before they dry up and look like a dying insect)... but the vegetation in my hometown leaves much to be desired.

Which is why I love it so much here!

You think I would've long since gotten over the ubiquitous rhody in the lipstick red to hot pink range. But then you see two of those in a yard, neighboring a deep lavender azalea... the color combinations are wonderful.

There's a rhody down the street from me, on Cypress, that's the color of a creamsicle. ALl I can say is -- WOW.

Indulgence over. Back to your normal sarcasm.

achieving personal nirvana

The past few days, I've pulled out my old acoustic guitar. Now, I know several chords, but it's a far cry from my strongest instrument. I still have trouble moving between chords with facility.

I realized a bit ago that the E minor to G major transition is very, very easy to make. So I repeated it over and over again.

And it sounded familiar.

Yes indeed, that's the bulk of the Nirvana song About A Girl. Two chords, strummed in a fairly simple rhythm... with a few more chords stuck in there for the chorus that, frankly, aren't that much harder.

Which makes me realize how close I could indeed be to fame on one of my weakest instruments.

sacrilege

Is it bad when...

Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker while driving around that said, "Jesus Is The Answer".

The first thing that popped into my head... The question is, "What do you say when you hit your thumb with a hammer?"

chocolate, shortbread, and strawberries

Got your attention, eh?

Last night we dinnered with our neighbors -- the same ones in whose kitchen I broke my toe last weekend. (Tried desperately to be low-key about it. Of course, they saw it in the first few minutes, despite the remarkable fading of discoloration.)

Their oldest daughter has multiple food allergies, including nuts and eggs. I didn't realize how key these components were to most desserts -- not only were cakes and cookies out, but most puddings and store-bought ice creams.

So I improvised, as I do best in the kitchen.

First, I made an eggless chocolate mousse. I started with maybe 1/2 cup of heavy cream in a small pot, then melted roughly 12 oz -- maybe more -- of a combination of Hershey's Special Dark chips and Ghirardelli milk chips. Kept it over very low heat, so as to not scorch/kill the chocolate. When this was smooth, I took off heat and let cool to room temp. Then, I whipped the remainder of the heavy cream, and folded into the ganache little by little. It was rich, but verrrry good.

To cut the chocolate, I layered with sliced strawberries from Central Market, which were tasty and sweet. Then, to top it off, I'd crushed Walker's Shortbread cookies (shortbread = no eggs) to sprinkle over the mousse and strawberries.

Success! Everyone loved it, and I avoided Allison's food allergies.

adult add

Today I was in a bookstore for the first time in months. I used to really enjoy hanging out at a Borders with a coffee and browsing, but... haven't done that in a while.

What's changed? Well, I realized that... it's been literally months since I read a novel. Months.

Most of my coworkers would stop and take my pulse at this point. Earlier this month, I realized that it had indeed been a long time since I'd read a novel.

But y'know what? I haven't felt the need. I actually haven't wanted to read any books. Which is a little disturbing, given my previously voracious book appetite.

And I chalked it up to my already overly-stimulated life. Why spend the time reading a book when I could be writing a song? Practicing guitar? Blogging? Doing other stuff that's useful in and of itself?

But then I sheepishly realized -- how much of my time is spent surfing the web??? Voyeuristically reading others' blogs? And how is this more productive than reading a novel?

I fear that my mind has gotten used to soundbites. Between reading blog entries, short articles from Fark, magazine articles... I've begun my slide into lack of focus.

So I got home from Third Place Books starting a new exercise. I searched the shelves for a book I hadn't read (that was tough...) and told myself I'd read for a while. I picked up something easy -- an old Dean Koontz that I'd gotten from a used bookstore. Nothing earth-shattering, but I don't have to think too hard. Anyway, I read six chapters earlier. Goal is to read at least another 6 by the end of the day tomorrow. During the week, the work/music/running schedule tends to get in the way, so we'll have to see about that, but... it's a start in the more focused direction...