Hope?

And now, for something a bit more pertinent to Obama.


*takeitez* caught a team of change ninjas working their way through San Francisco in the early hours of January 20. (Click on the picture to look at more pictures of this phenomenon on the "Obama Street, San Francisco, CA" Flickr group.)

Cute, right?
Sure, some people (like user kgbarnett4) would say that it's immature and in poor taste, as Bush Street commemorates ... I don't know who... well anyway, it has nothing to do with the Presidential Dynasty recently dethroned. That doesn't change the fact that "Bush" carries a very strong association for most SF-dwellers (any pretty much anyone, right?), so it is perfectly applicable to put forth this gesture of support for the new President. And cute.

My issue with this is bigger than the legacy of Jonathan P Bush (or whoever). My issue is this:

I miss when Obama was about Hope. Now that Obama is President, he has to manifest the Change he promised. He has to turn our Hope into reality. When he was elected, everyone yelled "Yes we did!" and the message of Hope died. Or it changed. It changed from Hope to... Faith. I'm about as hopeful for change as a girl can be, but I don't think I'm ready to sign up for membership in the Cult of Obama yet. Because now that he's the vehicle for Change, he has to deliver. I hope he will, but I don't have faith that he will. I don't participate in preemptive hero-worship. PLZ to accomplish something first.

Citizen of America...

I meant to post this stuff yesterday, but my internet cut out. So here go some thoughts that were written yesterday:

"While listening to Obama speak on the meaning of citizenship today, I was reminded of a story. I'm sorry that on this momentous day, I'm not writing a story of Liberty and Hope.

It was the spring of the year 2001 and the the five year mark had just hit for us, green-card-holding residents (the previous November). We applied for citizenship and were granted it. We had a much easier time obtaining green cards than most people do (although you'd be surprised how many people I've met that won the green card lottery -- at least three families off the top of my head). We had to drive up to San Francisco for the naturalization ceremony.

So the day before, I naturally told my teachers I'd be absent from school in the morning because I had to get my citizenship.

Long story made short, we actually arrived late for the ceremony and didn't get naturalized that day. But the weird part, for me, came later. I came back to school in the middle of third period, and as I entered the room, my teacher and classmates clapped for me and congratulated me.

I guess because I never had to strive to get my citizenship, it was never this great Dream... I just didn't feel like it was a big deal. The congratulations were kind of unexpected and felt weirdly ethnocentric to me. Like ... "welcome to OUR team!" "Congrats on becoming ONE OF US! ONE OF US!"

I mean, for me, the coolest part of getting my citizenship was changing my name and getting a passport finally.

And now, eight years later I still don't feel like an American. And it's always disconcerting to me when Americans tell me I am one. "You have citizenship, right? Then you're an American." Or even better, this argument: "America is all about immigration and integration. In a way, you're even more American than I am!" Who are you to say who I am? (And by their logic, if I'm more American than they are, I'm more of an authority on the subject of what makes an American. Oh noes, a paradox!! ^_~)

I became a citizen automatically because I was a minor and both my parents became citizens. Ukraine doesn't allow dual citizenship, so I am an American citizen only. If I had had a choice in the matter, then I'd probably still pick an American citizenship (because I like to travel and I'm a pragmatist), but I wish I could have had the choice."

Confession II

*stands up*
Hi, my name is Sasha. I've been living in Northern California for 13 years and... *sigh* I say "hella."
And I will own it in all its tacky glory.

Warm, delicious caffeine in the morning

I was listening to Radiolab, as I so often do these days. I've been downloading all the episodes and podcasts they've ever put out and listening to them while I draw. (I wonder if this adversely influencing my drawings.... or maybe not adversely? Eh who knows? Too many factors to test this properly, I fear.)

Anyway here is a segment of their show entitled "Choice," which explores how and why we make choices.



To summarize the pertinent bit: Lawrence Williams is a researcher who conducted a very simple experiment. He asked people to look at a photo of a man ("Joe") and asked them if they (in a gut-reaction, off-hand sort of way) like the guy. But before he asked them this question, he'd cunningly ask them to hold a cup of coffee for him for a second. Just a second. They didn't even take a sip or anything, simply held it in their hands. He tried to different cups: one with hot coffee and one with cold coffee. Overwhelmingly, the people who held the hot coffee liked "Joe" more than the people who held the cup with the cold coffee.

Look, I've been drinking hot tea every morning since I was like 3. Could that have played a major role in predisposing me to like people more? Would I have been a more hateful person if I had ice-cold orange juice every morning?

Anyway, I'm going to go with yes and keep drinking tea, with a new justification for it =). Of course it's not about caffeine at all, but about warmth. So I know I'm fooling myself, but I don't really care.

The question is, if I'm aware that I'm being "primed," will it negate the effect?

IPOD OUTRAGE!!!!!!!

This was supposed to be an outrage-themed blog, but it turned it to a regular blog of thoughts and musings instead. So here, to take us back to the origins, is a bona fide outrage:


It used to be that I could just drag-and-drop things onto my iPod. Oooh I want my System of a Down albums on my iPod, but certainly not these recordings of myself singing! *hides.*
Then, one fine day,
*POP* Would you like to update your iPod software?

*scratches head* well why not? Updating seems like a good thing...

What the hell? I have to sync my library with my iPod to get anything on there? What about this music that I have stored on my other computer?.. What about?...

Ok I get it. It's pretty simple: to prevent people from sharing music they make it so that if you put an iPod into a computer and download its library, next time you put it into a diff. computer, it deletes all that music.

But look, even if all my music and podcasts on my computer were legally purchased and ALL I had on my computer were music and podcasts, my computer still only has 60 gigs of memory. And my iPod has 80. So I can NEVER EVER EVER fill it up. Why did I buy this damn thing then? This makes NO sense.

I want my iPod to store my music. I don't really care about sharing music, but of course I could find different ways to share music if I needed (o look vhat a nice lil flash drive I have here). In fact, I want my iPod to be my musical storage device. I'd be happy to delete all my music from my computer and JUST keep it on my iPod. But I can't, can I?

GrrRrrRrr.

Anyone have any thoughts on how to fix this?

Confessions of a compulsive self-portraitist

I do take a lot of pictures of myself, it's true. I'm not sure why I do it, necessarily. It's a weird compulsion and I've tried to explain it away in various artsy or psychological ways... none of which really seem to fit. I really want to excuse it away because taking countless photos of yourself isn't really accepted in my circles. But honestly, I don't really care why I do it.
What is interesting to me, however, is that sometimes I scroll through the photos, taking in these reflections of myself (this almost becomes literal with the MacBook cam because it takes mirror image photos of me while I stare at myself... only difference is that I can't look myself in the eyes). That's the interesting part--looking back on those moments in time. It's not an exercise in vanity. If I had to compare it to anything, I'd say it's a bit like repeating a word over and over until the meaning of the word becomes disassociated with the sound of it. I don't really see the photos as images of me, but simply as... well, images I guess. But because I cerebrally know that it is, in fact, me, the act of scrolling through a log of my hair, clothes, tilts of the head.... but more importantly, thoughts and emotions.... well, it's a bit like having an out of body experience.
And well... sometimes getting out of my body is a feeling I want to chase.
But not today. I didn't scroll through my photos today.