For the last two hours a small group of young men has been debating the benefits and drawbacks to Libertarian and Socialist governments. It has been quite entertaining. Which provides better health care? Which would be better for the United States? Can we look at these situations empirically or not? What about the quality of life? Does it all come down to what you value? Does it take away choice? I'm not sure I completely follow the conversation (e-mailing, reading, and listening to my i-pod has provided some bit of distraction), but it's fun to see the freedom of speech and the exchange of ideas so willingly taking advantage of.
As far as the vice of eavesdropping--I must confess I am guilty. Yet, my vice is not unknown to the room, and my fellow study stranger and I simply exchange glances of humor as the tide of conversation flows one way and then another in rapid succession.
So, what do you think? Libertarian, Socialist, or Democratic?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Lookin' Out for the Ladies
So, I've finally decided to hit the gym. Again. After more or less taking the summer off (of course I've had various excuses--lower back pain, being out of town, sleeping in, watching TV), I've once again realized, thanks to my body's excellent fat-storage mechanisms, how much I need to get back in the routine. Especially with school starting. Nothing like the thought of standing in front of 160 strangers to make you want to feel your best, most intimidating self.
My first day back this week I decided to take it easy. Why push 30 minutes on the elliptical? 25 is plenty. Why run a full circuit of weights? Only the biceps need major work right now. I don't want to get too committed yet, especially when I know commitment is not my greatest strength.
As I pulled down the lateral bicep machine, thinking Hey, this isn't so bad after all, two burly men began working out on the machine next to me. Not at the same time, of course; they obviously learned their sharing lesson in kindergarten.
It's always funny to me to hear the conversation between two men at the gym. It's usually about how built they're going to be in a couple of weeks or how many pounds they pressed last time or what sorts of enhancers or energizers they're using. Like today, for instance. I overhead--which wasn't hard, considering he was practically yelling it to the whole gym--a guy's entire plan for getting built and how confident he was in his program's success. His friend amiably agreed and continued to pump up his ego. **Sigh.**
These comments that first night, however, ran a little differently. Macho guy #1 sat down and pounded out his butterfly press reps. Macho guy #2 sat down and began his reps. Struggling, half way through, though, he yelled, "S***! Whatch'ou have this set on?" (I love a man who admits his own weakness.) I had to chuckle. Macho guy #1, seeing me laughing, chided his buddy: "Hey, now, watch your mouth around the ladies!" then turned to me to apologize for his profane friend. Wow, I thought to myself, what a blast from the past! Imagine the recurrence of a concern for ladies' "delicate" ears? However, something about his goofy manner made it clear that it was less a genuine concern and more a jocular statement made to pull me into the conversation.
Not biting, I got up and left after finishing my own set of reps. With such an entertaining memory to welcome me back to the gym world, I think it's time for the gym excuses to fade away.
My first day back this week I decided to take it easy. Why push 30 minutes on the elliptical? 25 is plenty. Why run a full circuit of weights? Only the biceps need major work right now. I don't want to get too committed yet, especially when I know commitment is not my greatest strength.
As I pulled down the lateral bicep machine, thinking Hey, this isn't so bad after all, two burly men began working out on the machine next to me. Not at the same time, of course; they obviously learned their sharing lesson in kindergarten.
It's always funny to me to hear the conversation between two men at the gym. It's usually about how built they're going to be in a couple of weeks or how many pounds they pressed last time or what sorts of enhancers or energizers they're using. Like today, for instance. I overhead--which wasn't hard, considering he was practically yelling it to the whole gym--a guy's entire plan for getting built and how confident he was in his program's success. His friend amiably agreed and continued to pump up his ego. **Sigh.**
These comments that first night, however, ran a little differently. Macho guy #1 sat down and pounded out his butterfly press reps. Macho guy #2 sat down and began his reps. Struggling, half way through, though, he yelled, "S***! Whatch'ou have this set on?" (I love a man who admits his own weakness.) I had to chuckle. Macho guy #1, seeing me laughing, chided his buddy: "Hey, now, watch your mouth around the ladies!" then turned to me to apologize for his profane friend. Wow, I thought to myself, what a blast from the past! Imagine the recurrence of a concern for ladies' "delicate" ears? However, something about his goofy manner made it clear that it was less a genuine concern and more a jocular statement made to pull me into the conversation.
Not biting, I got up and left after finishing my own set of reps. With such an entertaining memory to welcome me back to the gym world, I think it's time for the gym excuses to fade away.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Lady Liberty
Here's the pictoral proof that I made it to NYC. One thing I appreciate about having visited the great city is that I have some mental concept of it when I read about it--it's amazing how many times I've seen it in my reading just this week! I realize this may be a duh statement to some of you, but hey, it's nice when you've actually experienced the setting or reference mentioned in a piece of writing. Mama made it, too, of course!
Traveling Mercies
Earlier this week I finished Anne Lamott's book Traveling Mercies. She writes about her faith journey, which I found to be refreshing. She writes honestly about the normal stuff of everyday life--relationships, stories about her son, living situations, etc. Perhaps for this reason I found myself relating to what she was saying. Perhaps what struck me most was her evidently strong belief that God loves her no matter what. She never wavered from this truth, regardless of how stupid or silly or ignorant or far from grace she felt like she had been. This is inspiring to me--while I know in my head that God loves me and always will, sometimes I still fall into the trap of not feeling good enough or wondering if maybe he'll drop me out of his will today because of something stupid I've thought or done.
Do I recommend this book to you? Most definitely, yes. She has such a strong sense of humor that you can't help but laugh out loud. The profanity still catches me off guard, but I chalk this up to the honesty with which she writes--she doesn't seem to disguise who she is, and maybe this is what makes her writing and her stories most appealing: she doesn't seem to be trying to impress anyone. Instead, she's just writing about her experience with Jesus and faith without passing judgement on herself or on others. This is exceptionally refreshing in the Christian community.
Do I recommend this book to you? Most definitely, yes. She has such a strong sense of humor that you can't help but laugh out loud. The profanity still catches me off guard, but I chalk this up to the honesty with which she writes--she doesn't seem to disguise who she is, and maybe this is what makes her writing and her stories most appealing: she doesn't seem to be trying to impress anyone. Instead, she's just writing about her experience with Jesus and faith without passing judgement on herself or on others. This is exceptionally refreshing in the Christian community.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Chick O Sticks and More
Mom and I really did make it to NYC--via the Chinese charter bus company--and had just as much time experiencing cross-cultural relations as we did sightseeing around the Big Apple. Today's blog, though, shall focus on the food. Food that, as Mom was so keen of pointing out, was once swimming in the window.
Now, some of you may love your fish fresh, especially if it comes from an aquarium with too-blue water at the front of the restaurant. However, my mama and I are from the Midwest--without an ocean nearby, we maybe have fish once in a blue moon--the ones that come battered and frozen in sticks. (Sure, Lake Erie may be close, but I don't know what the market is like for fish from the once polluted, beyond-any-apparent-salvation water.)
Our fishy experience began during a traditional Chinese breakfast. Eaten en route from Chinatown, where the bus dropped us off, to visiting Mom's former student in Brooklyn, our breakfast was the generosity of the student's father. He took us to a fancy restaurant, one used for wedding receptions and the like, and pointed at various and sundry items paraded around on silver carts to be placed on our table. Thus, we ended up with egg custard tarts (our favorite item) and green tea, along with various other "sweets" derived from the saltwater depths: fish flour paste sesame squares, fish flour paste coconut balls, rice and dried fish, and fried pastry with shrimp. Surprisingly, I enjoyed most of it, although Mama had a hard time stomaching the fish flour items. Perhaps I delighted in the coconut balls because of their resemblance to an old childhood favorite snack of mine, one I frequently purchased at the swimming pool: Chick O Sticks. Believe it or not, the lime green ball rolled in coconut held a surprise in the middle that seemed quite akin to this crisp, coconutty treat from the past. In the generosity of hospitality, my host graciously gave me a box to take home with the leftovers plus a fresh new order when he observed my surprised delight at this treat. (My, I thought. How am I going to eat all that? It was good, but not enough-for-binging good.)
We (Mom and I) were glad that this would be the extent of our host's kindness, but it was not to be. Before we departed, we were privileged to taste a traditional Chinese dinner. Not the kind from the Chinese take out down the street. Not the fried, sauce-covered meat pieces we Americans are so used to. This was the real thing.
Our meal began with shellfish on a bed of green onions. I was stoked about the green onions--they tasted great. The shellfish, though? Don't people have major allergies to that? It was time to find out if I was one of those lucky few. I could already imagine my throat swelling shut and my breath becoming labored. The flat, pinkish delicacy took more chews than I'm accustomed to using to break down my food; it quickly proved not to be my favorite. Fortunately, it didn't give me hives, either. Next, a leafy green vegetable arrived at the table. I can handle this, I thought. And then followed the crab, the lobster, the fish that was formerly swimming in the front window. Seafood surrounded us! (Give me fish, but I prefer it deboned, without the head, and all white meat only!)
My only salvation came in an ironic way: I stubbornly clung to using chopsticks (hey, gotta get the full experience, right?), which meant my usually wolfish way of eating was slowed down to a snail's pace. This then translated into not fully emptying my plate before it was taken away to be replaced by a new, and most importantly empty, one for me to have more helpings of food dumped on. The only time this backfired came when I was struggling to get the lobster meat out of the lobster. I thought I had done pretty well--at least until my plate was cleared and the student's uncle reached over to grab the lobster pieces and put them on my new plate. Evidently I still had some work to do.
The only thing I missed out on was Bubble tea. Maybe next time.
Now, some of you may love your fish fresh, especially if it comes from an aquarium with too-blue water at the front of the restaurant. However, my mama and I are from the Midwest--without an ocean nearby, we maybe have fish once in a blue moon--the ones that come battered and frozen in sticks. (Sure, Lake Erie may be close, but I don't know what the market is like for fish from the once polluted, beyond-any-apparent-salvation water.)
Our fishy experience began during a traditional Chinese breakfast. Eaten en route from Chinatown, where the bus dropped us off, to visiting Mom's former student in Brooklyn, our breakfast was the generosity of the student's father. He took us to a fancy restaurant, one used for wedding receptions and the like, and pointed at various and sundry items paraded around on silver carts to be placed on our table. Thus, we ended up with egg custard tarts (our favorite item) and green tea, along with various other "sweets" derived from the saltwater depths: fish flour paste sesame squares, fish flour paste coconut balls, rice and dried fish, and fried pastry with shrimp. Surprisingly, I enjoyed most of it, although Mama had a hard time stomaching the fish flour items. Perhaps I delighted in the coconut balls because of their resemblance to an old childhood favorite snack of mine, one I frequently purchased at the swimming pool: Chick O Sticks. Believe it or not, the lime green ball rolled in coconut held a surprise in the middle that seemed quite akin to this crisp, coconutty treat from the past. In the generosity of hospitality, my host graciously gave me a box to take home with the leftovers plus a fresh new order when he observed my surprised delight at this treat. (My, I thought. How am I going to eat all that? It was good, but not enough-for-binging good.)
We (Mom and I) were glad that this would be the extent of our host's kindness, but it was not to be. Before we departed, we were privileged to taste a traditional Chinese dinner. Not the kind from the Chinese take out down the street. Not the fried, sauce-covered meat pieces we Americans are so used to. This was the real thing.
Our meal began with shellfish on a bed of green onions. I was stoked about the green onions--they tasted great. The shellfish, though? Don't people have major allergies to that? It was time to find out if I was one of those lucky few. I could already imagine my throat swelling shut and my breath becoming labored. The flat, pinkish delicacy took more chews than I'm accustomed to using to break down my food; it quickly proved not to be my favorite. Fortunately, it didn't give me hives, either. Next, a leafy green vegetable arrived at the table. I can handle this, I thought. And then followed the crab, the lobster, the fish that was formerly swimming in the front window. Seafood surrounded us! (Give me fish, but I prefer it deboned, without the head, and all white meat only!)
My only salvation came in an ironic way: I stubbornly clung to using chopsticks (hey, gotta get the full experience, right?), which meant my usually wolfish way of eating was slowed down to a snail's pace. This then translated into not fully emptying my plate before it was taken away to be replaced by a new, and most importantly empty, one for me to have more helpings of food dumped on. The only time this backfired came when I was struggling to get the lobster meat out of the lobster. I thought I had done pretty well--at least until my plate was cleared and the student's uncle reached over to grab the lobster pieces and put them on my new plate. Evidently I still had some work to do.
The only thing I missed out on was Bubble tea. Maybe next time.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Bubble Tea
I forgot to mention that I'm super excited about landing in China town because I'm hoping to get me some bubble tea. Yum--that deliciously cold refreshment consisting of flavored, blended tea with blueberry-like tapioca balls at the bottom, all to be sucked up through a fat straw into a watering mouth. Can't wait!
Long Time
I was hangin' with my granny the other day when my cousin called; in the midst of the conversation, Grandma handed over the phone, saying Jessie wanted to talk to me. Wouldn't you know? She sat and read all my blog posts, even though they're all two years old. Since I no longer have the excuse of grad school or grading (at the moment), maybe I'll revive the ol' blog--thanks for the inspiration, Jessie.
The latest breaking event is that Mom and I are planning a last-minute trip to the Big Apple tomorrow night. Current plans include hopping on a charter bus that primarily caters to the Chinese/Chinese American contingency (it looks like they'll let us on), drive through the night, get out in Chinatown, find and settle in at the hostel, go see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, visit Mom's former student in Brooklyn (after walking across the Brooklyn bridge, of course), and swinging by the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.
Now, if we'll just get the hostel booked, I think this could be loads of fun!
The latest breaking event is that Mom and I are planning a last-minute trip to the Big Apple tomorrow night. Current plans include hopping on a charter bus that primarily caters to the Chinese/Chinese American contingency (it looks like they'll let us on), drive through the night, get out in Chinatown, find and settle in at the hostel, go see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, visit Mom's former student in Brooklyn (after walking across the Brooklyn bridge, of course), and swinging by the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.
Now, if we'll just get the hostel booked, I think this could be loads of fun!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)