My Little Bloggy

Tumblr

2011-05-25T22:04:00.002-05:00

now also: http://riffo.tumblr.com/

too much internets.

Right now

2010-08-20T21:45:00.002-05:00

From Blogger Pictures

Memory Foam

2010-07-27T21:09:00.004-05:00

the dent you've made is bigger than we really realize.

Scannery

2010-07-16T23:19:00.005-05:00

I was going through my journal the other and decided to scan a couple of things that I still liked, even after months or years.

I used to draw a lot more, but now the inspiration or urge comes less and less. I don't know why this has happened; probably something to do with a general deepening loss of self-esteem. Whoops!

On another separate note, I feel very contented right now. I am swaddled in my tiredness, my apartment, and being locked away from the world on this very hot night in a cool room. I am listening to Psapp and have a darling kitty at my feet and I'm tending to my little artworks, and thoughts too; and I feel it's all I ever really need sometimes. Just some quiet time to be me.

Thursday is the new Friday

2010-06-26T00:37:00.002-05:00

Friday I went to the gym, OKAY!?

On Parenthood

2010-06-24T21:32:00.003-05:00

TRUE FACT: Cats ARE NOT babies

They are better.

Air

2010-04-05T21:53:00.008-05:00

I don't like writing posts about my feelings; I think it gets repetitive and boring after a while. But right now, I can't seem to help myself!

I'm feeling some frustration with a change that's going on in my world. I am in transition mode; switching jobs, which is a totally new experience with me. I'm trying to pinpoint exactly what the icky feeling is that I'm trying to hard to shake off but I can't. Last week, it was the icky second interview at the place that eventually hired me, but today I realized that it's the strange things my boss said to me which sort of linger in the air and are hovering around me. And the ickiest part is, that even though I kind of stood up for myself, I could've done it a lot more, which sort of proves her whole point. Why do I have to be so damned diplomatic all the time? I'm not naturally aggressive when it comes to dealing with people, because frankly, that's not how I like to be dealt with. Do unto others, etc...

I could continue to feel this way, which I probably will, until I leave. The stress of wrapping up, of knowing I'm finally leaving Awkward Boss Land, of planning a national event, it's all overwhelming. I'm excited but also petrified of starting at a new place where I know no one and feel like I will know nothing. But then thank God the Juanly voice creeps into my head. I have to reassure myself that I was hired for a reason, that I was deemed capable, etc. etc. etc.

...So I simply must have confidence.

I suppose what bothers me most in all of this is that things go unsaid. People continue to be poor managers, and others, like myself, continue to let people be bad managers because they are timid and constantly unsure of themselves until someone really pushes their buttons and makes them think or even GASP! act. Even though our society so often preaches confidence, I feel that very few people really have it. I guess confidence is all outward then, because I seldom truly feel it from within. The only reassurance I've gotten that I'm not a complete moron in the past 2 years is being in grad school. If it weren't for that, I think confidence would not even be a part of my vocabulary.

Portrait of the Cat as a Young Cat

2010-04-04T18:26:00.006-05:00

Reason number 1,094,028 my Romy is awesome: She knows how to model, and looks good while

doing it.

Past, Present, Pending

2010-02-25T10:47:00.021-05:00

It's hard dealing with a death in the family. It signifies a lot of things; changes I had played around as hypothetical situations but couldn't entirely envision suddenly became real. These thoughts and feelings of loss have weighed heavy on my mind since May, when my grandfather passed away. I wasn't able to grasp what life meant until I saw it leaving someone I loved dearly. I still think about how he looked mere moments after he passed; not at all like the person I knew. His mouth was open and his jaw was askew, his nose had thinned and he had taken on a yellow color; the only thing I could think was that the life had been sucked out of him. I was not disturbed at the sight, only shocked because I had never seen a body before. I understood that his body and soul were no longer together; that his soul had left the world, but we still wept for him and for what we know is inevitable for everyone.

And now I think about it all the time, especially at night when I am drifting to sleep. Unfortunately because it's the most recent memory I have of his life, what has stayed with me is watching him in his last days, struggling with something; struggling physically and mentally to stay with us. Maybe he was trying to stay for us, to tell us something before he left; I am entirely sure he knew he was at the very end of his life, and knowing that he knew this was the hardest part of all.

***

This ongoing feeling of loss has been complicated (in good and bad ways) by these pictures my cousin scanned the other day. It's bizarre seeing snapshots of family members you could never imagine as children; that they were young too, and never thought of the rest of their lives, and what we know about them now. These photographs also speak to broken bonds between brothers, sisters, and cousins; family members lost in the span of time and place--things we are still dealing with today in our family. I almost can't wrap my head around it; it brings to life all those memories my grandfather would share with me about his childhood.

My great-grandparents and all 8 of their children. Dadu is the boy on the right holding his baby brother

Five of the siblings together. The kid in the white kurta on the right is Dadu. The resemblance to my one of my cousins at that age is uncanny

The girl reading is my grand-aunt (my grandfather's sister he was closest to, especially when they moved to New York). I'm guessing that's my great-grandfather and another sister to her side, and possibly Dadu in the background

We guess this is the wedding procession (either before or after) my grandparents' wedding. My grandmother is in the in the center, wearing a garland, dark lipstick and glasses

Dadu's closest brother, grown up, with my uncle in the backseat. He's also the other boy in the second picture

My aunt and uncle (brother and sister) on the right, and their first cousins (they were pretty much all like siblings since their father was killed when they were babies). My guess is that this is before 1953, when my dad was born

The same 4 a little bit older; my guess is 1954. Sweet sweaters

The little boy is my dad, and next to him his big sister, playing with their cousin in the background. When I saw this, I instantly knew it was him. I had the same baby-arms stance, the same little face and big eyes

My dad posing with his tricycle. This one just tickles me

For me, it will take a while to process these images, and all that my generation carries on our faces & in our blood: the unmistakable resemblances to our mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts and great-grandparents. But as we look back we can't help but mourn those who were like us at one time; young, healthy, living life and looking ahead.

I think what strikes me the most is the legacy of the photograph. One day our grandchildren and great-grandchildren will look at the thousands of pictures of us (all in color, and far more candid), and try to write narratives about our histories and our relationships with one another. They will know far more, and they will carry something too, I guess.

SCHWES

2010-02-15T10:54:00.002-05:00

It's almost my Schwes's birfay! Which means, in essence, it's almost my birthday and I should be getting presents too, but I probably won't.

Sad :(

Cats

2010-01-27T21:21:00.002-05:00

I like cats, and draw them on the back of my business cards (putting them to better use).

The Burqa Dance

2010-01-26T13:47:00.008-05:00

So I'm pretty uncertain where I lie on this issue. While I do not support the burqa or niqab, I think that going as far as outlawing a garment, and not adhering to the Western liberal principle of giving people the right to express themselves seems like a form of reverse fundamentalism to me. Tolerance is what so-called "progressive" Western European nations pride themselves on, yet this is a popular movement based on intolerance of personal religious faith (even though I take this form of adherence to Islam to be utterly wrong and even embarrassing). Still, I think taking the burqa or niqab as a stamp of religious extremism is an incorrect assumption. A symbolic war is no way of addressing fear of terrorism, and actively excludes populations who already feel hostility from the government for simply existing.

This Times article says, "Critics of the veils have described them as a tool of extremism, a hindrance to women’s rights and an affront to France’s cherished secularity." I understand and obviously support secularism; but it's not like Islamic militants are imposing Shari'a law on the French government. What's really amazing is that the French government feels like it's being invaded by extremist Muslims, which gives you an idea how it perceives and deals with its immigrants.

For the record, I'm okay with the hijab (head scarf), but I don't understand women or girls who wear a hijab but then pair it with a tight pair of jeans and a tiny shirt. I guess that's done more for the appeal of looking exotic or something, but it screams ignorance to me. I've also only ever seen a small handful of women wearing niqabs or full-blown burqas out in public in NYC. It actually scared me a little, seeing someone in a giant sheet, with no face, not really moving, just sitting there on the N train. Not knowing what's underneath gives me the creeps. So, in short, burqas make me cringe; and I do not think that anything was written in the Qur'an that ever intended women to cover up to that extent.

I am still not sure how I feel about the 2004 ban on all religious gear in public schools. In grade school, seeing someone wearing a hijab, a cross, an Om, a star of David, or whatever else was a way of learning about who they were and what they maybe believed. Taking that away from children is removing a form of tolerance that needs to be developed in order for there to ever be dialogue. In any case, it's fascinating how committed France is to its identity as a nation, and what they will strive to do in order to think they are getting all of its different populations on the same page...because I don't think that can ever happen.

Urban Farming!

2009-12-29T12:55:00.011-05:00

Over the past couple of days, I have been reading Novella Carpenter's "Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer". I was initially drawn to the cover, which was featured on some design website; it looked awesome so I decided to do a little research and ended up buying the book.

It reads just like someone telling you about their experience in creating a farm, complete with chickens, turkeys, ducks and a beehive. As an urbanite who knows nothing about farming, animals (except cats!...which we don't eat!), and I'll admit, nature, this book is really an education to me. Novella sets up her own farm in an abandoned lot in Oakland, and seems to learn as she goes, keeping an open mind to whatever she sets out to do. I'm not even half-way through yet, but I think it's the best book I've read in a while. My favorite excerpt thus far:

"Back in Seattle, our first chicken was an Americauna named Agnes. She was a lesbian chicken who crowed like a rooster but also laid eggs with bluish shells."

I need to get more in tune with what's happening within my 5 boroughs. I know there are urban farms in Harlem and Red Hook. I should really figure out where they are and what they grow. Next semester, I am going to be doing an independent study focusing on food systems in New York City, and policy initiatives set to improve food security and access to nutritious, fresh foods for low-income New Yorkers. This book is making me think, which is unusual given I'm on winter break!

Living in a Terrarium World

2009-12-21T14:34:00.001-05:00

Old Lady Syndrome

2009-11-18T18:49:00.001-05:00

My truly embarassing work drawer. Contents: socks, oatmeal, teas (assorted), tissue packets, vitamins, and an assortment of plastic bags. I don't use any of these things regulary. Really, the drawer should be filled with candybars and bad magazines.

How to Get Gifted: An Education on Presentation

2009-10-29T10:29:00.003-05:00

That Ain't MY Motherland!

2009-10-20T13:15:00.003-05:00

As I sit here, warm in the confines of my office, downing daal, chawal + achaar that I made last night, I'm reading about the suicide bombing at the Islamic University in Islamabad. At this point, I've numbed myself to hearing news on what happens "over there", though when I really stop to think about it, it's beyond disturbing that nothing worthwhile has ever been done to save this failed state.

Being born and raised in New York City, Pakistan never seemed the way that it does to me today. It was easy to imagine that you'd take a visit and enjoy the couple of weeks you'd spend there; shop, eat, play with your cousins, visit relatives you'd never heard of, go to weddings, travel to different cities, etc. It seemed entirely plausible that you could spend months there if you wanted to, being spoiled by your khalas, mamoos and naanis. Part of this is a simple nostalgia, perhaps an inkling of all that "imaginary homeland" crap I studied in college. So, yes, my nostalgic tone does stem from a desire to feel connected to a nation my parents once belonged to, and I don't deny that it runs through my veins. But my feelings on culture, assimilation and immigration have changed significantly over the years. I think I've come to a very strong understanding of who I am in the scheme of my country (U.S.) and my "motherland" (Pakistan). I don't confuse the two anymore: I am very simply an American-born person of Pakistani descent.

With that said, I am actually shocked at how the frequency of bombings and raids has increased significantly in the past few months. Whereas I would once be shocked to hear about a bombing anywhere in Pakistan, it has now become daily news and I expect to see it when I open up my browser in the morning. Pakistan, in my mind, has officially reached a status akin to Afghanistan and Iraq, which is truly pathetic, and weirdly, makes me ashamed.

Like I said, I do think of Pakistan as a failed state. Whereas there was some kind of dysfunctional but functional order to civilian life in the previous decades, there is nothing now because the government does not have the resources to control its borders because there were never any systems put in place for that. So, of course, the U.S. has once again inserted itself into "protecting" a Muslim country, all the while fueling extremist rage and detached-from-reality "Muslims" killing normal-people Muslims. Great.

All of these problems are deeply rooted in how this government was formed coming out of the partition. Simply put, it wasn't. Rich landowners were getting theirs, making sure they stayed on top. There wasn't a constitution for several years after Pakistan was established, and when it finally appeared, it wasn't worth shit because it was changed so often. You look at India in stark contrast to Pakistan, and you wonder, how did this happen? It really is "Midnight's Children", if you think about it. Though India doesn't have the cleanest human rights record either, at least Hindus aren't killing Hindus (save the poor Dalits). What makes me weary of Pakistan is simply the complete lack of political structure which has inevitably failed each and every leader of the country, and therefore failed the people. You can only expect people in all levels of government to be either stupid or corrupt (probably both), lacking education and ignorant to the needs of the people they should really be serving.

I know it probably seems like I am coming at this from a privileged American standpoint; I have no qualms about that. I accept my culture and my roots, I love all of it. What I don't love is all the millions of displaced Pakis around the world having to shake their heads and somehow explain the 1,001 ways this country has deteriorated; and much like Afghanistan and Iraq, we wonder if things will ever get better. It's not simply an issue of militants needing to be eradicated, but if Pakistan does get better, Pakistani officials need to meet some kind of criteria for holding public office (after all President Zardari most likely isn't even a college graduate). Even now, they don't truly seem to be grasping the problem (or describing it well, anyway). Look at this quote from the NYTimes:

“To target Islamic University is equivalent to targeting Pakistan,” said Rehman Malik, the country’s interior minister, while talking to a local television news network. “Students from 47 Muslim countries are studying here. To attack here is to tell the Muslims of the world that Pakistan is not safe for anyone.”

What is this guy really trying to say? Did it just occur to him that Pakistan is not a safe place? He seems confused--Of course targeting an Islamic University in Islamabad is an attack on Pakistan and an attack on Muslims! It seems like a really stupid call to action, as if they don't know who could've possibly done this. What an effing moron.

Anyway, this whole rant was triggered by that quote. There's really no nice way of saying any of the things I just said. Needless to say, I am not visiting anytime soon.

Asterios/I'm Serious

2009-09-09T10:49:00.010-05:00

I was at Shakespeare & Co. a while ago and was attracted to this new graphic novel by David Mazzucchelli...

Asterios reminds me somewhat of a sophisticated version of Meggo's make-believe but possibly real future Greek billionaire shipping tycoon husband, Kronos Megalopoulos.I love this style of drawing, and the use of color; reminds me of retro 1950s ads & cartoons. I also love that his last name is Polyp...GROSS.

I must find my tablet stylus so I can finally do some real drawing instead of this bullshit secret drawing and scanning at work business.

While Alek was here last week, through our usual fare of ridiculous voices and made-up words, we stumbled upon two characters (Eunice & Eunice) who would make a good short comic strip. They are sisters-in-law of 120 years who live in Lincolnshire and go on adventures. I have to really work on drawing these ladies because I can't draw old people very well. This is why I need to find the lost stylus because it would be more efficient to copy the faces for the sake of consistency (so they don't look different every time!).

Oh, they also have an ambiguously gay nephew named Klosty (I know right, wtf?).

Just a Couple of Sea-Cows, Us Two...

2009-08-17T17:41:00.004-05:00

According to Wikipedia:
The name manatí comes from the Taíno, a pre-Columbian people of the Caribbean, meaning "breast".

I also learned that my doodle is physically inaccurate because "the females tend to be larger and heavier". Another little known (but sad) fact I learned is that "the current main threat to manatees in the United States is being struck by boats or slashed by propellers" because they inhabit shallow waters.

Now you know everything you need to know about manatees (but not my relationship).

Head-Shrinking

2009-08-13T15:28:00.004-05:00

My coworker recently purchased a small package of modeling clay, of which one-quarter was shared with me. When I get bored, I reach for this. Though I'm no sculptor, I think it's a good try! And I just discovered that using a blunt tip of a pencil makes a decent modeling tool. Now I must wash my hands for they are green!

*EDIT*
Worked on it some more. The head is situated on this weird rotating thing; I think it's the back piece of a nametag holder or something...so the head rotates. I am a genius!

From My Little Bloggy

My Heart Almost Dropped

2009-08-11T14:59:00.003-05:00

I really need to set up my scanner (but I really don't have a desk at home) because the PDF machine just don't cut it. I had to convert this into a jpeg through Microsoft Publisher, which is just sick and sad. I can't even download PrimoPDF or any of those conversion programs because I don't have administrative rights on my own stupid work computer.

Veronica Turns 66

2009-08-05T20:32:00.009-05:00

Based on real-life events.

Peacock Walls & Coffee Love

2009-08-03T10:00:00.007-05:00

Stealing potential fodder from my schwes, I came across Hudson Paint's series of colored chalkboard paint, via Design*Sponge. They feature two dozen colors at just $7 a can. I used to think chalkboard paint was cool, then I thought it wasn't because people seemed to like to cover entire walls with it. I thought the end result ended up looking messy because the wall looked too busy from all the scribbles, and it didn't erase clean. Essentially I thought it was too much maintenance (you know, another thing to wipe down or clean). Now, I think it looks kind of cute, especially in small areas, and in bright colors!
***
On another homey note, I need a new french press. I saw this one at a local Starbucks the other day.

I think it's the same one. The 3-layer filter is joined together into one piece, unlike many other french presses, which come apart. I like this feature because the grinds tend to come up as you push the plunger down, because the strainer piece becomes warped after years of use.

And because I'm becoming a more refined coffee fanatic, I figured I should probably do some research on how to properly store my coffee. Normally I store in an airtight bag in the freezer. But I'm guessing that those bags aren't really very airtight at all. According to the National Coffee Association of U.S.A., Inc. you should store coffee in an airtight glass or ceramic container, in a cool dry location. Freezing, on the other hand, should only be employed

If you've purchased a large quantity of coffee that you will not use immediately. Small portions, wrapped in airtight bags, can be stored for up to a month in the freezer. Once you have removed them from the freezer, however, do not return them. Instead, move them to an air-tight container and store in a cool, dry place.

Good to know! I think a trip to The Container Store is in order, as well as one or two cans of Hudson Paint...et voila!

via Design*Sponge

Ode to Romy: One Year with Babycat

2009-07-30T13:19:00.008-05:00

People who know me, know I like cats. But anyone who really knows me, knows how secretly obsessed I am with them. Last year, after moving out, I couldn't wait to get a kittycat of my own. I tried to settle in without a pet, but after holding out, I decided to check out an adoption fair being held by Anjellicle Cats Rescue at Columbus Circle. I was forewarned by Alek that it would be difficult to see all the kitties in their little cages, and it was. I wanted all of them! After looking around, but not holding any, my mom pointed out a small black cat who was standing at attention, staring out at us with round, yellow-green eyes. I asked if I could hold her, and I did, even though she was squirming and shedding like crazy. It was not a Hallmark moment. But after weeks of not being able to get the furry round head out of my mind, I decided to put in an application for the little black cat I met in front of Central Park.

Two weeks later, she arrived. She seemed okay the first few hours, but never having owned a new cat before, I wasn't expecting all the crying she did the first night. I didn't sleep a wink. I was stressed out from having realized I would have to be the caretaker of a little creature, not really taking into account how unimposing pets are after they get used to you and vice versa. During the first week with my very own pet, I struggled with wanting to keep her. I felt awful about it. She pooped in funny places the first day (I bought the wrong kind of litter), and peed on the cushion of one of the kitchen chairs the next. I feared her behavior would persist, and wanted to return her. Ultimately I didn't have the heart to do it (which I was happy to find out meant that I'm not a monster). In the end, I knew I was being irrational and waited it out.

Several days later, I was reading in bed. Romy came up and joined me. She came to my stomach and placed a paw on me. Paw by paw, she came closer until she settled on my chest, curled up on top of me, and buried her little head in my neck. I had never witnessed such affection from a cat, and my heart melted! She's a sweet little thing, and I got so lucky to find a furry little babycatchild like her. You can't beat a cat who's licked your tears away when you cried!

Awful = Awffice +/- Cawfee

2009-07-28T13:54:00.009-05:00

office coffee

Shared via AddThis

SO TRUE. I hate getting stuck talking to people in the copy room. Office coffee is SO terrible, and fake laughing at people's boring anecdotes is even worse.

Anyway, I happened upon this on FFFFound. It's called "New Math" by Craig Damrauer (http://www.morenewmath.com/all/). Some of the stuff is funny and some of the stuff I don't completely get because I'm pretty slow these days.

Everything feels slow, actually. My workcomputer is so slow, I've had silent fits of rage and needed to walk away. And it seems as though the days go by quickly but the hours I spend in the office drag on & on. I wish in between the hours I spend here, I could engage in some things I actually enjoy. I'd like to finish my book (currently reading In Other Rooms Other Wonders), or start some new drawings, or finish some other ones I've started, or flesh out ideas & illustrations for a longer length comic. It's sad- I pretty much give up when I get home; either immersing myself in cooking or cleaning or cuddling, somehow actively avoiding things that require imagination and creative effort.

Boredom is a horrible state to be in. It never happens to me unless I'm at work. It makes me wonder why we can't drink at work to make it more enjoyable, or at least have an excuse for falling asleep at our desks.

Sarimodo

2009-07-23T18:01:00.004-05:00

Pixely because I scanned at work with the PDF machine.
I can't get over my hunchback pain! It actually pains me to stand up straight.

I need one of these!

sanfranning

2009-07-06T16:59:00.001-05:00

at the japanese tea garden

j-bear

2009-05-24T20:07:00.001-05:00

j-bear

Posted via Pixelpipe.

Meditation

2009-04-10T12:11:00.002-05:00

I've been working on this for the past 2 or so weeks:

I haven't gotten around to the larger feathers yet; I get very caught up in blending colors.
More detail:

I need to figure out what to do in the background. I was thinking plum and gold, or some warm blended colors.
***
Other stuff:

***
I'm off.

How to Rain on Your Own Parade.

2009-04-03T13:37:00.004-05:00

It's like an ad for alopecia and depression in one! How quaint.

So I'm not singing in the rain, but at least I'm seeing some light now (figuratively speaking, since it's presently raining and thundering outside). I went through a lot of trouble trying to scan this shit at work, which was supposed to help me avoid the trouble of setting up my scanner at home. I was scared someone in the copy room would see what I was scanning and then my life would be ruined.

Looking forward to a good weekend. And I mean that for seriously. I want to finish my peacock drawing.

new phone

2009-03-22T09:43:00.001-05:00

I'm trying out a new application on my g1 called pixelpipe. it posts pictures from my phone to any blog and photo websites.

new g1

Posted via Pixelpipe.

Things I'm reading: My Guantanamo Diary

2008-12-31T10:31:00.016-05:00

I was lent this book by a colleague and was apprehensive to read it at first; the fear of knowing what the U.S. government was doing to innocent human beings frightened me.

Mahvish Khan's My Guantanamo Diary is a compelling read. During her time at law school a few years ago, stories were being leaked out of Gitmo about abuse against prisoners. Wanting to know if she could do anything at all to help, she contacted Dechert, an international law firm which was handling several cases. Being of Afghani descent (her parents fled to the U.S. by way of Iran when things started changing in the late 70s), and growing up in Michigan, she spoke Pashto and was able to gain clearance from the government to work as a translator alongside Dechert's attorneys.

After the first few trips to Cuba, Mahvish then traveled to Peshawar (located near the Afghan border in northwest Pakistan), then by road to Kabul (!) to gather evidence and testimony to prove the innocence of detainees. Most of the prisoners are falsely accused of working for al-Qaeda, and conveniently enough when the prisoners give names of witnesses who can testify on their behalf, these people are mysteriously "unavailable" or the case is simply left alone, with the prisoner remaining without hope of a proper trial, let alone release.

Aside from the fact that the U.S. government had carefully calculated how to get people into Gitmo's cells, it had been assisted in large part by the Pakistani government, specifically the ISI. In addition to randomly capturing people from parts of Afghanistan, corrupt Pakistani officials complied with the U.S. in order to gain access to the bounties which were promised for the capture of al-Qaeda operatives. In this case, anyone with malicious intent toward another could easily turn them in to the U.S. authorities for money. This was also a convenient way for the Pakistani government to take care of any political opponents, or anyone who was against them (please google Badr Zaman and Abdul Rahim Muslim Dost).

Reading about the different kinds of torture was hard, but I feel that even though I can't do what Mahvish did, I can at least respect these human beings by reading about their experiences.

One of the craziest parts of the book is when she describes downtown Kabul, which is teeming with rich Europeans & Americans, buying land and vacationing. Apparently the Intercontinental Hotel there has rooms with a host of amenities, with the same prices you'd find at nice hotels in the States. It's something that I can't wrap my head around. We know now that the formula in Iraq was "instigated political instability + war = economic profit". But the fact that people travel there for enjoyment, while the people of Afghanistan can't buy food for their children or survive the freezing nights makes me question what the real mission of the American government truly is. Can this government rightly condemn "terrorists", when it is itself calculating torture and selling war to rich white people?

The book comes out soon, but here is the link to Ms. Khan's WaPo article, which functions as a summary to her book: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/04/29/AR2006042900145_pf.html

More.

2008-12-28T15:12:00.002-05:00

Marker & pen on bristol.

I did this one first; don't like it as much. Color pencil, pen, marker & china marker.

Things I Like: Christmas, Cameras, Cats.

2008-12-26T00:50:00.004-05:00

Christmas is officially over. This make me sad! Ever since becoming a Christlim, I get to partake in the chaos of Christmas shopping and being greedy about whatever it is that I want. Now, in addition to getting eidie (money from elders on Eid) twice a year, I get out of control presents from my family not only on my birthday, but also on Christmas.

It didn't occur to me this year, that instead of telling my mom what I wanted, that I should've just asked her to make a donation to a charity of my choice. I swear to do this next year with my family who spend too much money on gifts; but Juanly and I have decided to do this for one another NOW.

Good idea.

Anyhow, I can't complain too much. I'm a lucky girl to have so much; I was lucky enough to receive a camera this year. I've been aching for one ever since my old Cybershot broke after my trip to India two years ago. Since then, I've been debating whether to get a digital SLR which seemed impractical, but I decided to copy Meghan and settled on a Canon Powershot SD750. It's small but packs a punch.

(Color-accent feature; I've seen this a lot in other people's pictures but still like it)

Romy: The Best Cat in the World.

***
I've made a few resolutions to myself which I'm storing in the front of my brains when 2009 rolls around next week:
1. Yoga/health
2. More art
3. New job options
4. Conscious/careful about my actions and words
***

Good luck to all in the new year.

Life & Dreams.

2008-12-23T21:16:00.004-05:00

Dancing with Myself

2008-11-30T18:36:00.001-05:00

Uh oh

Yeah so I've grown out of my "brown identity politics" phase (thank goodness), and now I just identify as "person", but I doodled this anyway.

YAWN.

Bristol (paper, not Palin)

2008-11-12T11:36:00.007-05:00

It's been a while and I have finally found something to say. Work has been keeping me super-stressed and so has school. I feel like I am at the laziest part of my life, where I am not feeling committed to anything I do, yet doing things because I have to and chugging along nonetheless. The only thing which brings me some kind of peace is going home at the end of the day. Waking up in the morning is a whole different story, I can't shake this feeling of wanting to hide under my covers until all feeling of obligation from every guilt-ridden bone in my body is completely gone. Meaning, I never want to come into work and put it off in the morning until I am at least an hour late, but at least I suck it up and show up!

ANYWAY I am at work, not doing what I should be doing (because I don't know how) and avoiding other little trivial things by talking at my blog.

I haven't been making anything really; I am working on the border (in my typical doodle-y style)on a huge piece that I have started working on with Juanly in our spare time. If I had a camera or bothered to ever set up my scanner then I would share this. Instead, I will share this tip: The other day I went to Utrecht and found these wonderful things!

They are 2.5x3.5", perfect for hiding under my notepad and doodling. Another unique feature is that you can swap your mini-artworks with other artists through an online forum (more info here): http://www.strathmoreartist.com/atc.php --You can either do it in person locally, or online. They have every kind of paper, including little baby-canvases!

If I had even more time at work (or more accurately, if I were more creative), I would start brainstorming a narrative to develop a series of cards. A wallet-sized workspace is definitely less daunting than your average 8x10" and up sized papers.

My personal favorite has always been bristol paper, which is versatile, and handles pen/ink, marker, and colored pencil particularly well without bleeding or warping the paper when you want to layer these mediums.

I think that's all I was aiming to say. I will post some stuff in a few weeks!

"Never Forget"?

2008-09-11T09:16:00.003-05:00

No, no American can forget what happened downtown a few years ago. What happened was beyond words. And I remember being scared that my dad was on Wall Street and that something could have happened to him. I remember him picking me up in a cab with soot on his clothes and shoes, wearing a mask around his neck that must've covered his face. I remember crossing the Queensboro Bridge and looking down across the island and seeing black clouds rising from the lowest part of it.

I won't forget these things but I cannot help but be appalled by the way this country grieves shamelessly and publicly, for the whole world to see. What have we learned from this day? Nothing. Have we not also killed scores of people in vain? And so in times of grief, we expect even our anguish to prevail, to take importance over the pain of all those families destroyed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and Palestine; all those lives ruined because this administration gave the okay for it. They were all human, and they all suffered. This is what I'm trying to keep in perspective.

Today Bush gives the okay to allow raids in the NWFP? By planning to bomb more people, does that signal respect for the dead?

Read the names of those that perished seven years ago. Read them and remember them. But also remember that all of those people that were bombed to hell or massacred had names too, but no one will ever read them for the world to remember.

Brains. It's what runs through my brains.

2008-08-26T19:15:00.006-05:00

+++

My eyeballs feel sad. They need a massage. Tomorrow is my first class in pursuit of a master's degree. Yay higherhigher educations! But, srsly, I'm excited. And very afraid. I'm always really afraid.

Work is the same, which it should stay that way so I can be good at school. Though I'm bored half the time, getting emails from my bosses always thanking me for my work (and the occasional "You rock!") makes up for the rest of the wasted time or crappy tasks I get stuck with.

Right now I'm being squinty because I need new glasses. I'm trying to watch the DNC, but it's boring. I wasn't really feeling Michelle Obama's speech last night. I thought it was really forced and trying too hard to be emotive, too Barack-y; she kept starting her sentences with "Y'see...". I like her a lot, just thought her speech was a bit of a letdown. The Obama kids screaming into the microphone was intended to be cute but it was just awkward. I'm being too judge-y I know. All these events are weird to me. If you break it down; how excited people are to follow someone who is made out to be a symbol of change. "Change we can believe in" plastered all over the screens, voices screeching into microphones bounding through the arena...It's all sort of 1984-ish. It's not so much a critique of the DNC, as much as it is about this whole process, the way people think and how they put their faith in politicians.

I will say, that I liked Ted Kennedy's short speech, and I always love seeing Jimmy Carter, I just want to give him a big but gentle hug, bloodshot eye and all.

Arrested Irony

2008-08-14T10:27:00.005-05:00

I kept wondering what might have happened to him. When I first saw his missing arm from the corner of my eye, I thought it was an old man. I shocked to see someone my age. He had gashes on his upper arms too.

But he seemed fine. I wonder if people ever come up to him and ask what happened. Maybe he was at war. I wanted to hug him or be his friend.

Anyway, I hid my iPod inside my tote and continued watching --in guilt-- feeling my entertainment choice was perhaps in bad taste. But, y'know, what can you do?

Chris Ware: Why So Awesome?

2008-08-13T13:25:00.007-05:00

(click to enlarge, I promise it's worth it!)
But seriously, how does one do this?

Lately, more so than ever, I just want to get into this whole thing.
I wonder where I can take some cheap/free illustration classes. There's so much that can be said by work like this. I don't know, am I being a little OOC*?

I think I'm going to re-read Jimmy Corrigan.

He's also done lots of more commercially-oriented work (his style seemed familiar way before I even knew who he was), i.e.,

*Out of control

Tomorrow is Caturday

2008-08-01T09:13:00.001-05:00

Romy is coming.

The [my] Elephant (family: Riffantidae)

2008-07-28T21:33:00.004-05:00

Elephants are herbivores, spending 16 hours a day collecting plant food. Their diet is at least 50% grasses, supplemented with leaves, bamboo, twigs, bark, roots AND CAKES.

(I drew the elephant with my tablet!)

In a Nutshell

2008-07-19T02:15:00.004-05:00

Final Notice

2008-07-14T09:07:00.006-05:00

This is getting ridiculous. I need to carry around my journal or something, especially since work is waning down in peak vacation season. I wish I were a little bit more motivated in making things, especially since I want to get better at drawing.

I've taken to writing down key phrases on post-its at work in hopes that this will get me to do things when I get home, but it never pans out that way. Mostly because I don't believe I can make something that I like, which is the dumbest excuse ever. I'm still reeling from drawing for two hours and my computer randomly shutting down, and then crying for ten minutes and then mourning for a day.

So I will draw later, after I make dinner...
I think.

***

I've also noticed that being in school, or rather the thought of going back to school gets me excited because, 1- I want to get a better job that is at least somewhat reflective of my capabilities and interests &, 2- The more immediate effect: I feel an urgency in having to know what's happening around me and the connection which stems from that to the entire world.

It took me a good ten minutes trying to phrase that correctly.

I like it anyway!

2008-06-30T21:26:00.006-05:00

So I'm back blah blah as if it matters.
Had a good time in the Pak despite all that damn loadshedding and all the stupid heat and diarrhea.

Moved in with the DonJuan and it's peachy.

Got a haircut today, went real short, I'm guessing she chopped off like 5 or 6 inches (my hair was very long, and dead and gross at the end).

She dried it real straight and then cut it.
Needless to say, she went real choppy with the bangs and it's interesting and I like it, very different.

My mom just swung by to pick up some stuff and her reaction was sort of startling. My hair is wet just now but by the looks of her reaction I'm going to have to wear a bag over my head for the next 3 months.

I'm going to bed now, and going to work with some hipster hair tomorrow. It's okay since I work for a non-profit and live in a trendy neighborhood now.

Itchy /Itching

2008-05-27T22:59:00.010-05:00

...all over. I think/hope it's that St. Ives bodywash. Always knew that stuff was cheap-ass! Unless I have fleas, which is a real problem.

I'd like to sleep except I can't; I'm very excited. If I were less lazy I would draw something, but it's midnight and im laying down, twisted like a pretzel with my comforter as a makeshift desk.

I'm going to Pakistan in a few days. I don't really know why I'm so excited. It's likely just the anticipation of the trip itself, but it's always so weird going back there; like it should all be familiar but it's not. It's always a shock.

I'm going for my first cousin's wedding, whom I don't even know well at all (though recently the powers of Facebook united us). It's my mother's sister's daughter, which I guess means she's kind of supposed to be like a sister, except not at all in this case. It may be awkward at times but nothing beats dressing up and really being a part of a wedding. Mostly I want to enjoy this too, live vicariously in a way, because I'm not suited for that big, traditional wedding. I think I gave that up a while ago, probably when my parents got divorced because I never could envision them exchanging pleasantries on "my big day". Probably also because I'm dating a Dominican/Catholic. Probably for a lot of other reasons too.

***

Summer is always exciting. New things form in the spring and manifest in the warmer weather, it seems.

1- Last year it was graduating college, getting a job and moving home. This spring, I fought myself (and my mother, just a little) and went for what I wanted. I am moving in with my boyfriend of many years; we signed a lease for an apartment. It's making me nervous and excited.

2- I am going on this pretty much all expenses vacation to the Pak for two weeks (i.e., getting away from NYC).

3- I am starting part-time graduate work this fall, which on top of 9-5 work, will keep me very busy.

I guess that's it, really.

How anticlimactic.

8 days a week

2008-05-09T23:31:00.004-05:00

Is not enough to show I care.

"Don't Be Ridiculous."

2008-05-05T22:50:00.014-05:00

Lord, this is a BFTP. I remember watching this sometimes, never understood why the cranky American cousin was always so uptight. I remember feeling that if someone as fun as Balki ever came to live with me, I would always be happy and have a reason to smile.

***
This is also ridiculous. I made it sometime last week when I was desperate to make something, anything, colorful and completely stupid.

click to enlarge
John Abraham? Yez pleez.

Today was Monday. I was extremely grumpy and in denial that it was the beginning of another week and I remained in a haze most of the day. This was partly because I was in Funroe all weekend, playing in the hills and hullahooping and walking in the sun and being gluttonous and all of those wonderful things. My rude awakening came in the form of a sharp pang of disgust I felt being back on a subway after three days. YUCK, I say.

The only thing that got me through the day was my guilty read (Unaccustomed Earth)--yet another book about 2nd genners. It's basically a bunch of stories all about the intimate and fragmented pieces of family relationships (The Things That Go Unsaid), always with that overdone desi twist (just that the label of "Bengali" is used over and over, for something that can be applied to any desis, I think). It's interesting to think of the way Amy Tan writes books (exciting & extremely engaging) versus Lahiri, who writes about the mundane almost exclusively. I guess the main difference would be Tan writes novels and Lahiri is more of a short story writer, so that's the main thing. Short stories are more like sketches. Even though Tan uses the same subject matter, she is such a skilled storyteller that I could read her always. UE is a guilty read because I feel like I can't not read it (it's the equivalent of Archie comics when I was 12). Anyway, it's basically a bunch of stories about Gogol Gangulies approaching middle age and married to white people. I still like it, I appreciate the characters she draws (despite the mention of Park Slope stroller posses in the first story, not cool).

***
I am going to Pakistan in 3.5 weeks or something like that and I am utterly too excited for wearing pretty clothes and getting my hair did and mehndi and being actually legitimately a part of a big fat desi wedding. Also, 15 days away from my desk is enough incentive for me to travel just about anywhere with anyone and do anything in anyplace.

***
Why am I still awake. Damn you wet hair.

The Restoration

2008-04-29T08:51:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I wish I could sit down and write everything that came into my head. Every memory, every little detail and I wish that someone could understand just what it means to me. I wish I could draw it and show exactly what it was and what it represents looking back now.

I am too young to mourn the past, but it is dead, and there are few who can give those memories life. Little is said or done now to remember what we had many years ago. I was sitting with Dadu, Dadi and Omi at the dinner table on Sunday, and I completely fooled myself into thinking Baba was going to walk in at any moment, with that silly, put on grin that he has. I literally believed that he was going to appear out of thin air and give us hugs.

It's been hard being with my grandparents because they're so depressed. All of my life, I have been around old age, and now it's getting to that point where things seem imminent, to the point where my grandfather has weakened himself so much just by thinking becoming weak for so many years. He has rendered himself helpless because he is a man who has aged, and who has convinced himself that he is nothing of what he used to be. Livelihood, independence, it's run out, so he lives to remember and lives to love his family, but his reward is less than half of all the hope and prayers he puts in. Knowing this upsets me. That confidence, the command and the rigidity has all eroded leaving behind no edges--the soft wrinkly skin, the professions of loss, the rekindling of memories of which I have no connection, except they are mine too in some remote way. Always so witty; he is absolutely the brown Englishman who dressed with such style and pride but also made fun of the English (and still does). And poor Dadi, who has been his eyes and ears, who knows what she's thought over the years, what she's felt; she hasn't said a word, would never hurt a single soul...in fact, I do not believe she has ever hurt anyone.

***
Lately I've been feeling wasted, like I'm not keeping track of what's important and I've forgotten what inspires me. I've been doing silly, self indulgent little things when I have the time. Maybe belittling isn't the way to account for it; although I cannot help but feel hollow because so much of what I've done in the past year has been some form of instant gratification, not necessarily something productive in the long-term (except getting into Hunter, which I'm not even excited for because I'm only going part-time, and when I think of the amount of time it'll take to finish, I don't care).

I don't know where to find it, but I know it'll come back to me.

Not a part of my job description.

2008-04-14T09:58:00.005-05:00

I wish I could use my tablet at work. I get so bored that I look for things to do on the interwebs, but I could be spending that boredom time being more creative. There's no discreet way of using it, at least not how you can hide windows when you're playing solitare or talking to folks online.

Boo.

My eyes are all puffy, my head/jaw are stiff and it took me 30 minutes changing in and out of clothes to be even slightly satisfied with what I was wearing. Yup, it's Monday. When I got on the train, I realized I was just putting off coming in to work (because no one looks at me anyway); and part of me always dies a little inside when I realize wearing jeans and a ratty t-shirt isn't a feasible option.

***

The Fork Party

I want another camera.

***
I will listen to This American Life now. Hopefully it won't be boring like it was last week.

I wouldn't know

2008-03-31T09:06:00.007-05:00

I guess these are just sad thoughts. It's hard not to miss someone when you see them in strangers. It's hard to imagine what my dad looks like now, if he's still the same as those pieces of him that I remember. A green suede jacket, some brown slacks, and black leather strap watch. It wasn't hard to draw this figure, especially in the way he's sitting. I can't draw hands but this time I did. And I drew what I imagined.

It's always seemed unnecessary that I even have these thoughts (I've inherited an emotional warmth and a frigid disposition which makes me a confused person). My father is alive, I spoke to him last night. But it's hard to feel like a little piece of him isn't gone forever, especially when he can't bring himself to say he wants to retire with us by his side. It's hard not to miss someone when they aren't a clear part of your life; when their role was once defined and now seems fully exhausted, yet there was never any precise point you can claim this happened.

Being vague is the same as being indecisive, and you can't have the best of both worlds. Maybe this isn't true; maybe I'm saying that because I just finished an Amy Tan story.

I want to make clown babies with you.

2008-03-15T22:59:00.002-05:00

An Ode to Juanly

In other news, SNL is never funny. Bobby's dog smells like shit.
Live from my houz, it's Saturda-ZzzzzZzzzzzzZZzzZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZ.

Like a Banshee

2008-03-11T08:08:00.003-05:00

I have taken quite a few sick days in one go (2.5 to be precise). I called out today after being sent home yesterday for having the plague. I emailed my boss an hour ago; she said okay and then proceeded to ask me about the status of a bunch of things I did yesterday. So it looks like I'm working from home to some extent. THAT'S NOT THE POINT OF A SICK DAY!
Home & Work should be like Oil & Water.
Now my sleepiness has gone away and I'm awake and my head hurts. Sonofabitch!

I want to leave this. I'm not equipped to deal with hotel contracts and all this administrative shit. I bring so much of my work stress home with me, part of me hasn't yet come to terms with the fact that I'm not in school anymore, that you're not supposed to think about your job when you leave the place.

I must remember something bigger.
***
1964

1965?

Cry Baby

Got a Gut Feeling.

2008-03-07T21:23:00.008-05:00

Days & Nights

2008-02-28T09:30:00.003-05:00

I feel like my brain is wrecked. It's like I have to use it for all this stupid shit, meanwhile any desire to read a book or do something creative has been completely sucked out of me. I know why, generally speaking; but I think there should be specifics regarding these choices I make.

I go to work everyday. Every morning I wonder, "Do I have to?" or "Should I call in sick?". Then I remember there's something to do and I haven an obligation in order to earn money, not necessarily to contribute to the household, but more or less for my own necessities and selfish reasons (I buy things to ease the pain, I am working on this flaw). Everyday I sit on the train and pretend to sleep, while only thinking incessantly, and dealing with tension all over my body sitting in a cramped seat next to some fat ass.

Everyday I talk to people on google chat. Everyday I find ways to pass the time, whether with work or my own little chores. Everyday I wonder why the bitch who shares my cube has to apply her cheap stinky lotion every 5 minutes (literally), and I feel very angry because she is being passive aggressive when I asked her to please stop twice. Everyday I eat lunch, and get coffee at 2 or 3 with colleagues. I leave at 5 or 5:30 latest. If I go straight home, I reach there around 6:30. If I don't, I see Juanly and we do something together. Sometimes I see other folks, which I wish was more often. Having friends who love you is rare, having those people in close proximity is rarer.

If I go home, I change into sweats, eat dinner and watch tv. Then every other day I work out for about 40 minutes. I stretch, take a shower, dry my hair and sit on my bed with my laptop. Then I call Juanly and we talk between 30 minutes to an hour. Then I fall asleep, wake up and do it all over again.

I don't know how to feel.

No Resolutions/Death of a Coat

2008-01-06T22:55:00.000-05:00

Boo. My computer becomes soooo slow when Photoshop is open. I have yet to move all my music over to my external; this task is followed by a slew of other little things which never seem to get done:

1. Move all media to external hard drive
2. Get real copy of Photoshop (out of my hands)
3. Install software to my tablet
4. Move one of my wall-mounted shelves up to accommodate new bed
5. Dump unwanted clothes in charity bin
6. Clean car
7. Scan negatives/make the most of my Flickr subscription
8. Make my blog awesome

Unfortunately (or fortunately) my ability to do these things has been limited this holiday season for various reasons [NOT excuses!]: i.e., fun, rest, vacation, sleeping, etc.

I was able to clean out my closet and do two loads of laundry after catching a red eye from Las Vegas. Though in my sheer optimism in HOPING that the instructions on the label of my down coat would lead me to cleaner outerwear, this wish was destroyed upon retrieving my coat from the cold wash: the thing was ripped through the bottom inner lining.

I sucked it up, praying the next step of adding three tennis balls with the wet coat in the dryer would at least fair for a fluffy coat---I took the thing out of the dryer, it looked a little dead, maybe because it was likely still damp from the inside, but also probably because so many feathers came out :( I haven't had the nerve to go check on it since, it'll make me sad- that jacket was so warm (but luckily not expensive, plus the zipper got stuck all the time). I would've dry cleaned, except it said DO NOT DRY CLEAN (yes, in caps)

Lesson: Febreeze is always the answer.

I lied.

2007-12-25T23:47:00.000-05:00

I lied. Big surprise. Come alive again, Blogger. I'm a polyblogamist, and have no shame. Xanga will be my wife; Blogger, you be my mistress. Because I might have more fun with you, but probably won't see you as often.

At the risk of killing the metaphor, I want to leave my wife for my mistress.

Watch me, I'll show you what I mean when I finally get to scanning some stuff. I totally ruined the surprise for all my fans out there. Idiot.

[In]Action

2007-10-07T23:32:00.000-05:00

There is little for myself that I can really reveal in a public space. I make faces at people probably everyday on the subway, but I need to admit to myself that I can't blog for fear of public embarassment. It's definitely not a good kind of self-consciousness. It was easier a couple of years ago, when blogs were not what they are now. I can't pretend I'm a writer or an artist when I'm not doing anything in a visible domain which shows as such. I have to remember how to document again, especially visually. I miss that most.
(I should treat myself to a camera finally. Too bad I'm so stingy.)

I want to contribute, and to learn and to give to the community I exist within. I feel bad about giving up on that brown girl blog, but I'll be honest, it was a fleeting desire, and I'm most likely having commitment issues as usual. It was my post-YSS fling.

I'm off to explore, and to actually force myself to DO things whereby I can (with some confidence feel creative or helpful in some way, I must re-articulate myself to remember what I am). My deepest concerns cannot be aired in this space any longer.

Khuda-hafiz!

Ambition

2007-09-03T16:35:00.000-05:00

...Or lack thereof.

Bush's Great Ambition: Wealthy Boredom
Wow, this man is our president!! It's still hard to believe...Not a word in this article about putting his position to good use in the future (because why break the cycle of shittiness?)

A few gems from our dear leader:

[On retirement] "I can just envision getting in the car, getting bored, going down to the ranch," he says. He also has big plans for making money. "I'll give some speeches, to replenish the ol' coffers," says Mr Bush, who is already estimated to be worth $20m. "I don't know what my dad gets - it's more than 50-75 [thousand dollars a speech], and "Clinton's making a lot of money".

He goes on to note that,

When it all gets too much for the president, his wife Laura storms to the rescue. "She reminds me that I decided to do this," he tells Draper.

And by far, the best quote:

"I've got God's shoulder to cry on, and I cry a lot"

Thanks to my schwes to bringing the article to my attention. Made me feel good on an otherwise down day!

The little posting that could

2007-08-29T12:47:00.000-05:00

Work kind of sucks. I've never done this 9-5 thing so regularly and my mind is melting at the thought of doing this indefinitely (at least for the next year). I have this weird anxiety & I feel as though my time is no longer my own; my life is compartmentalized too neatly now and I feel bored & restless.
The time to get cracking on GREs has come, I think...

The summer started off well enough, although extremely hectic, graduating, going from one job to the next, moving far away from Yonkers to Queens, visiting Boston, Rochester, packing and unpacking, friends and visitors. Now I anticipate the season dwindling into fall; and I'm looking forward to thinking about sweaters and scarves again.

I got to see my friend from Iowa, whom I met during my study abroad in India. I love love love seeing my Iowa/India friends; I spent about 7 weeks with these people, but it felt more like 7 years; I have never been so comfortable with a group of people in such a small amount of time. We jabbered on and on and it was great. I sincerely crave and miss that since school ended and it's probably one of the things I most took for granted, even amongst my small group of friends. Everyone is scattered. I need to leave and go somewhere and do something (but where and what?), there is so much here & so much to leave behind...

All about books: I've read Fun Home and Brick Lane which were both excellent. I just finished the Inheritance of Loss, which is another great read. Shards of history, fragmented memories, people leading separate lives while all managing to be somehow connected. I have made my way to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, which I read once when I was 14, but reading it now is so much better. I was by the Brooklyn Bridge yesterday (near Front Street) and I saw flattened trolley tracks pushed into some old cobblestone---getting to actually see parts of history like that while reading a book about old New York is exciting.

***

Edit- Wow, this post is unbelievably boring and doesn't resolve any of the loud issues that are screaming inside of me.

Last night I had a dream that tornadoes were destroying my entire neighborhood. I was face-to-face with them, I was scared but excited. I was hiding in basements, getting into them from the tiniest little opening which sucked me in and kept me safe. This was after I woke up at 3am from a dream that my boss happened upon my house while drunk and hung out with me and my family. I was so upset that I was dreaming work things. I got up and went to the bathroom to cleanse my body of any work-related toxins. It took me a few minutes until I was able to clear my head of grant deadlines and agendas and fall asleep.

The former was not a nightmare, the latter was.

Frightening, yet somehow hilarious...

2007-06-05T18:51:00.000-05:00

Let's not move to Katy.

"Real Life"

2007-05-26T15:26:00.000-05:00

So I graduated, that was fun. Graduation itself was pretty anticlimactic; although I got weepy in the beginning (at the mention of parents), it sort of just ended after BA candidates were announced with the president telling us to take our chairs to the edge of the tent on the way out.

It feels good though. I'm working three days a week at Demos, applying for jobs, going on interviews, reading books I like, wandering around the city and hanging out with people I haven't seen in a while. I'm generally hopeful right now, but at the same time I fear once the summer ends, I'll fall into a slump when I see other people gearing up to go back to school. We shall see.

I'm reading No Logo by Naomi Klein, and I gotta say, it's pretty great. It feels weird going into malls, to think about how we have so few public spaces that aren't corporately owned (so in a way, corporations own our social interactions). I was walking through the Westchester (an unusually swanky mall located in White Plains) while dropping off my computer for repair, and I realized (as I do so frequently now) how many families were out, and how many little children there were. It is crazy to think that we are socialized to behave as consumers from the day we are conscious of ourselves and can express our needs and wants. I happened upon Anthropologie (why that store is called that, I will NEVER know) and drifted in while on the phone, and every time I've been in that place I'm amazed at how expensive things are; how the labor is probably so cheap, yet they can sell a pair of jeans for $210. How much profit must they be making!? It's absurd! Anthropolgie is a high-end off-shoot of Urban Outfitters I think, they're likely owned by the same parent company. Both sell a lifestyle though. Anthropologie also sells frilly, shabby-chic type of housewares; from dishes to rugs and bedding. It's a brand that's been made into a lifestyle.

Maybe it's not so ridiculous to some, but when you deconstruct it (even a little) it's pathetic.

From Klein:

"What these companies [referring to Nike, Microsoft, Tommy Hilfiger, etc.] produced primarily were not things, they said, but images of their brands. Their real work lay not in manufacturing but in marketing"

She goes on to talk about how in the beginning of the 20th century, there were so many inventions coming out that were innovative, and that were going to change the way people lived. As time worn on though, this psychological prompt in buying new products evolved into lifestyle choices (rather than necessities) in consuming products marketed to the masses.

Why are there offensive Miller Lite ads with women being objectified on the NYC subways? Why are there cheap-looking Lava Life ads selling a heteronormative dating lifestyle on the subway?
Why are we being told to buy this? Why do we measure ourselves against these images?

Why are more people not awake?

The Motel

2007-05-06T19:24:00.000-05:00

This looks pretty good. Apparently it came out last June, but I wasn't around then. It's out on dvd now.

(pubertysucks.com)

I love the design and animation for the ads, very reminscent of Chris Ware's Jimmy Corrigan.

I think I want to make an ice cream run. Mmm sprinkles.

HumDrum. DrumLost.

2007-05-05T01:40:00.001-05:00

I just spilled coffee all over myself-- all I needed to do was sip it not like a savage, but I couldn't handle this simple function & got it all over my face, in my hair and down my shirt. I accidentally fell asleep at 7 until 9pm. I'm supposed to hand in work tomorrow (Saturday...!?).

Uh, the plan is to stay up until 7am or until I can finish all this stupid thesis shit. I don't mean that it's for seriously stupid, I'm just sooo dragging myself at this point & subsisting solely on caffeine. I feel gross and unhealthy.

Books I will read upon my gradulations/summer reading list:

Passing It On by Yuri Kochiyama (Japanese-American freedom fighter)
The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai
Darker Nations by Vijay Prashad
Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
White Teeth by Zadie Smith
No Logo by Naomi Klein (any writing/documentary by her is awesome)
The Revolution Will Not Be Funded by Incite! Women of Color Against Violence

I want to go on a trip & take pictures of people. I want to buy a Mamiya or another awesome medium format camera, and be a photographer on the DL. But where to print? So expensive, naa. I want to make art again so badly. I need it.

Also getting a tattoo but need someone to design it for me; I can't seem to get the right outline of the little elephants I want.

Back to workus.

A-musings.

2007-04-26T23:44:00.000-05:00

Oh geez, I took this too-long nap at 5 and woke up at 8. It's not a good feeling, especially that napbreath--you gotta gargle twice to get rid of it.

The nap was brought on by a series of events, mostly related to school and constricted by time. I went to bed at 5am this morning and work up and 9:30 only to rush to print out my paper, only to get to class to have the professor announce that seniors could email him the draft.

After class I got to go to the gynecologist, where before being poked and prodded I had an extensive (20 minute) conversation with the doctor about activism, corporate ethics, environmental consciousness and just life in general. It was really remarkable, mostly I felt like giggling, it was so random. I told her about this documentary I had watched in class called "The Corporation", good stuff. Then I went for a haircut, which basically was me spending $23 to have nothing done to my head; but maybe that's a good thing since I freak out after having my hair did. But I always need something to complain about, y'know?

I'm trying to get enough money to go to the U.S. Social Forum with the study abroad folks from last summer, although everything altogether (travel, food, transport, etc.) will probably cost me about $400. I wonder if I can get a sponsor or something...
A corporate sponsor! Like these guys.

I've been introduced to The Blow, a neat group from Portland. I really like their music, especially this one song, Parentheses.

"You're not a baby if you feel the world.
All of the babies can feel the world.
That's why they cry."

Thinkings/Collectives

2007-04-23T19:47:00.000-05:00

Boredom/break from work compelled me to google myself, and my Demos blog posting in Dispatches came up. This means my ascendancy and strategy for total domination has begun. TOTAL domination, only; no exceptions. And all it took was a tiny little internship.

Are nuts fatty? I wonder; my stepmother told me that almonds make you breakout, but I should take into consideration that she's a deceitful person in general, so I'm torn here. I really want to eat that bag of badaam, though.

I've been thinking a lot, maybe too much taking into consideration this is the final stretch of work as an undergrad at SLC. In the midst of this craziness, I've been fortunate to experience a few things in the past year most don't even consider in their education. And I can't believe the amazing friends I've found in the process (meeting people like this peels away at my layers of cynicism). The first awesome experience was my study abroad in Karnataka. I learned more about myself, my desi self, my American self, U.S. foreign policy and the state of the world than I probably did combined in my 3 years at Sarah Lawrence. But I will say I wouldn't have experienced India the same unless I had the knowledge base I did at the time. So it wasn't all for nothin'.

Second has been the exposure I most recently had at the 2007 Organizing Youth conference the weekend before last. It was hosted and organized by folks from YSS (Youth Solidarity Summer, what was a NYC based week-long conference), with contributions from OY! and RadDesi (Bay Area & Austin, respectively). There were some amazing panel discussions (Deepa Fernandes, DJ Rekha, Vijay Prashad, and Biju Mathew among some of the speakers); mostly though, we were there to figure out how to build a collective structure, since YSS is looking to create a larger base and do more educational outreach work (well, at least in the beginning).

The three-day conference culminated on Sunday the 15th, with the 50 or so people split up into various working committees, handling different issues. My committee deals with what is likely the core of how this yet-to-be-named organization will operate on either a regional or national level (or both). Aside from all the technical stuff, we have to determine who our audience is, what the general vision is, what the issues are, as well as our time-sensitive goals which require real commitment from the people in these groups.

(We also got a presentation from The Campaign to Stop Funding Hate, which talked about the brand of "Yankee Hindutva" promulgated by groups like the HSC and funded by fanatic peeps abroad. I was happy to see Murli, the Anthropology professor from my study abroad there and launching this program.)

So what I have (in addition to be totally green and new to all of this) is essentially the opportunity to be apart of the very building of an organization. I really want things to pan out. I met some great people, people from different parts of the States and some in Canada; there is interest, we're just trying to figure out how to engage that interest in a progressive desi youth org.

Anyway, that's where my brain is at. Trying to learn from the different movements in American history, especially African, Asian & Chicano struggles in the 60s and 70s. Where do we come from? We're not sure, but until the group's mission is more solid, we're committed to finding out. The trick is framing the motives of this group in light of a specific South Asian-American history.

Back to Blogger

2007-04-22T16:24:00.000-05:00

i think i'm gonna kick my xanga addiction. that thing isn't as versatile; blogger is shiny & new to me (even though i've had one for almost 2 years).

looking to start a collective brown blog of sorts.
(very into collectives nowadays)
who will do this with me? this has yet to be determined.

fabulous, i've wasted my whole day not being productive with all the work i was supposed to do...gotta get serious now; hopefully something more inspired to be written later & later.

sarahriffo