5 and 6, or a digression on my other boyfriend, BD

5. I think I might legitimately put my mom on this list, because, as much as she might feel overworked and frustrated, she is really good at her job and people love her. Her art docent trainees freak out worship her. She is like the mascot over at Art in Action. Or a cult-leader for subversive-hip suburban moms. I don't actually want her career, but I admire how after 15 years of volunteering and hanging out with us kids "in the home" she turned her skill set, interests, and educational background into a real job. All of my parentals have cool and admirable professional things going on. I don't think they get fan mail like my mom does, though.

6. I was going to put Tina Landon, choreographer to Janet, etc, on this list until I realized she was involved with White Chicks, the worst movie I have ever watched for 20 minutes on an airplane in my life. Instead, I'll say "people who play with puppies" and segue immediately into talking about Baron Davis, who is a Warrior and rocks the beard right into my heart (see above). He's there to play basketball, works for Don Nelson, my own personal Coach Taylor, and he lights up the court (with his smile, hee).

You can catch me 3 rows up from center court in a "We Believe" tee-shirt tonight in Oakland, trashtalking Yao Ming in Chinese.
Golden State!

PS This list of career heroes has long since passed from the realm of reality so consider it a beta and I'll release a more thoughtful version once feedback has been examined.

PPS How do you scream "brick" in Mandarin?

Assignment: The 6 People Whose Careers I Want

1. Mindy Kaling - she writes/acts for The Office (well, not lately, aaaaaargh). She's hilarious and brilliant and Indian-American. I wish I was her. Even though she went to Dartmouth.

2. Wing Chun, aka Tara Ariano, of TelevisionWithoutPity.com (and Toronto). She hated Dawson's Creek so much she had to blog about it. This summer she sold her site to Bravo and that means she is pretty successful. On that note I add the Fug Girls, who are hilarious bitches to be sure, and independently owned and operated, for whatever that's worth.

3. William Langewiesche, previously of The Atlantic (ew, I know), now of Vanity Fair (don't you "ew" me, punk!). Gorgeous stylist, profound, intuitive feeler, and my favorite living writer.

4. I am supposed to put Paul Farmer on this list. But I'm too cynical to think any do-gooder with national recognition could possibly be worth the worship they get. It's like a karmic thing. There is too much love going in one direction, so I must staunch the tide with my own indifference. I have known a lot of great and worthy people battling poverty and injustice in the world. But it is not my dream career path, so not even Mr Famous Friend of Bono can inspire me.

5 and 6 are going to require a lot more digging...

Low-tech living in a high-tech world

So, I don't have a cell phone. Correction, I have a cell phone and it has all my numbers in it and sometimes I carry it around to give my purse the right weight, but I do not have a plan, or a number, or a way of being reached in real time beyond the evening hours (PST) on my mother's sturdy landline. Dial it up. It's not scary.

I seem to be the only one not inconvenienced by me not having a cell phone. It troubles nearly everyone in my life, but, given that I seldom socialize outside the home and don't drive much outside the Menlo Park-Atherton region, I feel I am appropriately reachable. Mostly I like the convenience of not paying $50 a month for a phone contract. Yes, fine! I am very cheap! I am minimally employed! Just pretend it's 1997 and call me at home outside the dinner hour!

PS. There is a lot of dialogue en espanol (by the way, spell check wants to turn that into "bespangles") happening at the Music Annex today. I think Los Tigres may be in the casa!

PPS Pensando en espanol, I am contemplating a visit to Ecuador in early 08 with one Ms Paige Atkinson. Question: is it worth flying through Bogotá to avoid Miami International to make this possible?

Ready to be heartbroken

Obamania was "fired up" last night, just as promised. The man is more handsome in person and, despite a sometimes awkward mix of law school professor and Baptist preacher in his on-stage presence, got the crowd going into a dither of excitement. I found myself screaming wildly when he promised to make health insurance accessible and affordable to all Americans, and when he reminded us: "George W. Bush will not be on the ballot in 2008, neither will my cousin, Dick Cheney. Everyone's got a black sheep in the family." He's funny!

Hence the title of this post. I'm probably too cynical to become a true believer like my stepdad Rick, who is attending rallies and writing letters for the first time in his 35 years as a voter. But I think an Obama Presidency would be the sea change to save my generation and also possibly the only way to avert the Apocalypse. So if I believed in belief I would believe in the Obama Campaign. And because, despite my stated non-belief, my heart beats for Barack's potential, and I mean that in a totally non-sexual way.

Plans with (one of) my boyfriend(s)

Catherine --

I'm coming to see you.

I wanted to make sure you've heard that I'll be at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium this Wednesday, November 14.

You can get tickets here:

https://donate.barackobama.com/sanfran

I love San Francisco, and I can't wait to come back. It'll be a good time.

Hope to see you there,

Barack

Return to Witch Mountain

I am currently freezing to death in my new job - as a part-time doer of things for my Dad at Muse Research. Located in lovely East Menlo Park at historic Music Annex Studios (Los Tigres! George Winston!), Muse combines the best of my childhood with the tech boom - casual, crumbly, techy, lacking decent heating. Ok, it's sort of hard to explain how my childhood is involved, but my dad is at a computer in the next room, and that sure feels familiar. Of all the things I have called bosses in the past - hosebeast, guru, Belgian - Dad is the weirdest. Also weird is this new concept of "revenue-generation," not to mention "ad sales." Oh, the world of making money instead of less poor people - how quaint. The atmosphere is not all that different, actually, since Muse is small and creative and staffed by subculturalists. In this case the subculture is keyboardists and sound engineers, instead of public health enthusiasts and RPCVs.

Since I have been home there has been:
an earthquake
an oil spill
a WGA strike, threatening that which we hold most dear, television.

Clearly my movements impact the universe.

And I'm link-happy because the Internet is robust and free (thanks, parentals) everywhere, lalalalala!

Home! Where my thoughts escape me

I have made it home to Atherton, CA, where I've been splitting time between my parent's houses (less than a mile apart) like a 15 year old. I say like a 15 year old because I can drive, but I don't have a car. It's not too bad, actually, and is made better by the total freedom I have to wear pyjamas all day and nap at will. One of my two checked bags is still on a multi-airport tour of Asia, or rather is getting to know the SFO baggage holding area quite well, while United gets to know how pissed off I am about being separated from everything I bought in Asia, for no reason other than their own inability to put my bag on a truck and deliver it to me.

Loads of pictures are now up on facebook, if that's your kind of thing. Check it out. Here is a taster:
Yea, that is my arm a few days after the sadist at SOS used a needle as a shovel in an attempt to draw blood. I bet that was the pic you were waiting for! The bruising was worse before.

Great things about home: revisiting academia by helping Caroline write papers, ministering to Molly's broken foot, INTERNET! and Goldfish 'til I'm sick.

PS. Gossip Girl really is entertaining, all y'all who knew it would be my new favorite show. At least it will hold me til the new Battlestar miniseries in January. TV has not disappointed!