The girl who cried nervous.

So, I have this weird tendency to cry when I'm especially nervous. I first identified this "issue" in the sixth grade when I was asked to read, in front of the entire school, an essay I had written regarding the D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) program I had recently completed. The reading took place at my D.A.R.E. "graduation", with all the other kids and sixth graders' parents in attendance.

Essentially, when I took the stage and stepped up to the mic, I immediately began tearing up. I proceeded to cry through the entire reading and I'm sure my words were barely intelligable. I was completely mortified but I hung in there, and scurried off the stage with great haste afterward.

I didn't realize at the time why that happened. Later, when I started having to give talks in front of the church congregation, I cried too, but then I thought it was because I was overcome with emotion for my religious convictions, or something. I thought it was a trait inherited from my mother, who often cries when speaking of topics she's emotionally invested in. So I blamed it on emotions and Mom. To be fair, I thought the public speaking element played at least a minor part.

But in the last several months, on four-and-half-separate occasions - sometimes one-on-one, others while in front of groups - I have broken down in similar fashion (I include a "half" occurrence because one time I was able to reign it in before full exposure). It's like it's getting worse. Two of the times, I thought it was, again, the consequence of some underlying emotional connection to what I was speaking of, but the others there was no valid reason for. It didn't occur to me until it happened again today - approximately 15 years after the first incident - that it was a result of nervousness. I was asked by one of my former professors to speak to her class about some resources I had compiled for students on international affairs, media literacy, human rights, activism, and the like. While I do have some emotional connection to what I was speaking of, I consciously talked around them. Yet, true to form, I got teary-eyed TWICE over the course of my talk. I am so embarrassed by this because I am not usually a cry-happy sort of gal, and especially not so around perfect strangers.

So, what the hell is up with this compulsion? Why is my nervousness manifest in such an embarrassing (for myself and others) sort of way?? I am truly upset about it, and I wonder what sort of effective activist and advocate of human rights I can be when I can't get through a 10 minute speech without ugly facial contortions and ready waterworks. I think this crying detracts from my message and that is what particularly irks me. I don't want to be the weird chick that showed up to class and cried for apparently no reason. I want to come with something to say, because I have lots to say. It makes me wonder if I ought to just have stayed with the journalistic ambitions 'cause I can cry all I want from behind the veil of a computer screen. Obviously the point here is that I dont "want" to cry, but you get my drift.

I am beginning to wonder if there is something I haven't dealt with from my past, and perhaps I need a little therapy to suss out what is going on here. I've got to figure out something because I'm just not willing to accept that this is how my life will be; I'm just not. I'm far too proud and have too many professional ambitions for that.

Some brilliant musicians you've never heard of.

There is no shortage of crap music and film in the world today. Or, maybe it's always been that way. But, it seems as though there's so much more bad than good, especially where music is concerned; at least if we're considering the "successful" artists. However, a few months ago I saw a beautiful independent film that managed to renew my faith in both media. It's called Once, and it stars two real-life musicians (Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova), the former being the frontman for a long-succesful-in-Ireland band called The Frames and the latter a classically trained Czech performer. I'd never heard of them before seeing this film, nor did I encounter a ton of buzz for the film itself (sad to say), so I had no expectations going in.

In short, I was completely blown away. Mesmerized. Even now, months later, I find myself daydreaming, reveling in its wonderfully quirky, yet simple joys. First of all, the musicians/actors are f-ing brilliant (and, rightly, so is the soundtrack). Secondly, as they are not actors by profession, they both exert this lovely awkwardness and self-consciousness that is absolutely endearing.

When my girlfriend and I left the theater, grinning ear-to-ear and figuratively floating, we both said to the other, "I think I've got a crush now." On Glen, the "guy" (as he's referred to in the credits) from the film. His charms and humor and vulnerability were irresistable. The next day, I bought the soundtrack, and proceeded to let in marinate in my disc player for a good six weeks, on repeat. (A rarity, indeed.)

A week after the viewing, I came across an advert in the local independent weekly about the duo. They'd be performing as "The Swell Season" at a small venue here in town. After freaking out, then gaining composure, I called my friend and told her we simply had to see the show.

After waiting with baited breath for two months, we finally drank in the goodness, as it were. Just last week. Suffice it to say that it was one of the best live performances I've ever witnessed. I am in no way understating when I write that that show completely revived my spirits and renewed my faith in the power of music in a way I've not experienced in many moons. On a few occasions, I was nearly brought to tears by the sheer power of the lyrics, the haunting violin, the piano ballads...the whole lot. Simply gorgeous.

As you might guess, I'm still high from that performance. I don't know that I have ever had such a profound reaction to music and for such a period; frankly, I'm loving it. Since the show I've purchased The Swell Season's self-titled ablum, as well as two cds from Glen's band, The Frames. These guys kill it, I tell you.

I love music. I don't think I could live without it, I feel it in my soul. The Swell Season and The Frames have become artists I can't live without, and I'm ashamed it took me so long to discover them. I just can't say enough about them, and I don't bestow such compliments lightly, but if I go on much longer it will just be embarassing.

It's criminal that they're not headlining names in the States. That said, it seems this "little movie that could" has struck such a chord with audiences that it's generated Oscar buzz...and it was also this year's Audience Award Winner at Sundance (yay!). Methinks it's only a matter of time now...

So, here I am well into a (healthy!) obsession with these musicians, buying up their booty, and counting down the days until the DVD release. Well over 8000 songs in my music library and I'm recycling - almost exclusively - theirs. It's strange, I feel like I did when I became a fan of the New Kids on the Block as a young girl (thankfully, my musical tastes have evolved with age). I had a crush on Jordan - one of the group members - and daydreamed about our eventual matrimony, I recorded their TV appearances (and then watched them repeatedly), hung their posters on my walls (kissing them before bed), bought the various figurines and tee shirts. You know the drill...sad, but true.

I feel so juvenile again - sans some of the more eccentric behavior - and there's a purity to it that's just delicious.

Do yourself a favor and give them a listen.

Jus in bello?

Jus in bello means "justice in war" and it is one of the principles of the just war theory that has, for centuries, been widely accepted in international relations.

This concept is such that nation-states agree to adhere to certain principles and practices when engaged in war with another/other nation-state(s)...such as offering fair treatment of POWs, engaging in proportionality (that is, an eye-for-an-eye, not a heart-for-a-fingernail sort of thing), limiting civilian casualties, and so forth.

I've been thinking about how in "our" latest campaign in the Mideast, we have either deliberately ignored this principle, or we've tried to find stealth ways around it. Obviously, there is the infamous scandal involving prisoner treatment at Abu Ghraib, as well as prisoner treatment and alleged torture practices at Guantanamo, Cuba, to what I, and many others, would consider unacceptable civilian casualties (iraqbodycount.org shows documented body counts at somewhere between 75-82,500 since 2003). All the while, the lofty goal of establishing an operational democracy has remained elusive and militia in-fighting is worse than ever.

These thoughts bring me back to the idea of American exceptionalism. Why do we think that we can slap some moralistic moniker on a military operation, and justice goes out the window along with geniune morality? We can say we want to spread democracy and our supposedly universal values, and on that basis, the ends we employ justisy the means. Torture is an acceptable reality of the interrogation process because it is assumed that every last one of "these guys" will stop at nothing to anihilate the American people, even if the grounds for such assumptions are shaky at best. Why do taxpayers spend ridiculous amounts to employ the likes of Blackwater to provide security for every Tom, Dick, and Harry from the States, when their are untold numbers of Iraqi civilians who REALLY need protection?

Sadly, the list goes on. The point is, the means that are being employed are counterproductive if the ends being sought are those that have been publicly espoused. Too, these gentlemanly principles of war ought not be viewed as purely symbolic, but as ethical constraints and rights of all people.

Jus in bello is a lovely idea. It should be respected by every nation-state. For us, however, only when convenient.

B is for Brilliant.

It's a beautiful thing. The Sox once again in the World Series...

I love baseball, when you get to the heart of the thing, when you can strip away all the bullshit and look beyond the guys who aren't there for the purity of it. (It's a lot like cycling in that way.)

Forgive me for the indulgence, but I've not been able to follow the game as closely as I'd like these last couple of years. I'm no longer bourgeois enough for cable (actually, it's largely a principle thing), and so it's only during the playoffs (when the networks actually broadcast the games) or when I happen to get lucky with the controlled TVs at the gym, that I actually get to enjoy the pleasure of a good game.

Which leads me down a path of nostalgia for all the times I used to go to Mariners games, take in the city of Seattle for a day and then head to the ballpark, feel the energy, smell the mingling of grass and leather and beer and Pacific NW air. When you're watching teams with real heart, with long histories, it's even sweeter. Delicious, I tell you.

As an aside...these instances always make me wonder how people can say they don't like baseball. It's like sacrilege, or something. A lot of "unbelievers" I know say it's boring. But that's because they don't understand the incredible strategy that is involved, the delicate dance. And at the core of it all is a history, a history that is bound up in the emergence of a national spirit, though perhaps not as salient as it once was. The way I see it, to say that baseball is boring is like saying that listening to something like Beethoven's famous Symphony 3 is boring because it lasts a long time and there are no lyrics. The nuances, the story that is being told are what's important; it ought to be critically examined. Baseball is no different.

Anywho, the point is that good moments in baseball remind me how good it feels to be alive. They give me hope, even if it's short-lived and somehow superficial. And these days, I'll take what I can get.

I love this game.

GO SOX!

Why Burnt Cream?

The title for this blog stems from an experience some years ago, when a friend asked a rather intriguing question: If you had to choose a food that best describes your character, what would it be?

I thought quite hard on this one and what I came up with was crème brûlée. Since then, I have asked a number of others the very same question, and I've found it to be telling. I've never questioned my admission to being a custard, because what I said then remains true today. My explanation, as best as I can remember...

Crème Brûlée is not for everyone, and for many who enjoy it, it's an acquired taste. It's not the prettiest looking thing - crispy and burnt, far from grand. The custard is protected by a rough exterior, though it's easily broken by a well-intentioned tap or two. The inside: Rich, creamy goodness. Complexity of flavor. Warmth. Perhaps, a touch of spice. Sweet, but not too much so. It's taste and texture varies over time and space.

So, yeah, that's me in a ramekin.

The ONE Campaign

I don't know about you, but I think Americans have an obligation to lend a hand, to pick up the little guy when he's down. But, not the sort of help that entails war or variations on imperialism. Real help. Solidarity. Commitment.

The ONE campaign was launched in 2002 and is gaining serious momentum. (Maybe you've already heard of it - I hope so.) The campaign is backed by a host of not-for-profit organizations and various religious and relief organizations, as well as politically active public figures. It calls for the allocation of a mere ONE percent of the budget of the United States to various entities within Africa for the fighting of the HIV/AIDS pandemic and widespread poverty.

Below is a link that details some of the issues that hundreds of millions of Africans face and what the ONE campaign hopes to achieve. If you think this seems like something worth fighting for, you may choose to electronically sign The Declaration. It requires nothing further from you, but will help to send a message to our lawmakers and the powers-that-be.

http://action.one.org/Issues.html

Thanks for reading.

5000 Things to Do Before We Die

Do you ever feel like there are so many problems to tackle, and can't find a way to go about solving them? Or worse, that it's beyond hope and what's the point anyway?

We've got it all wrong, and I want to change things.

But I haven't a clue as to how to engage in something really meaningful. I'm talking about our environmental problems, combating global warming, developing a workable social security and nationalized healthcare of some sort, ending this insane war we're engaged in, making corporations develop environmentally sustainable practices, sending aid to the Developing World and ensuring that it makes it to the people and social entities that truly need it, legitimizing this so-called democracy we have in place. The list goes on.

You know, I often wonder how we - myself, my community, the countless generations that have preceded mine - let it come to this. How is it that we haven't been able to keep the engine of corporate capitalism and globalization in better check, through the writing of tight, implementable legislation? Why haven't we held our politicians to higher standards? Why haven't we fought for more diversified and uncensored media? Again the list goes on.

I don't see how this country that is always looking for bigger, better, more, could not have, at some point along the way, closely observed the operations of other nations and then pieced together a nation comprised of the best bits? That's obviously a very simplified suggestion, but the point is that we ought to be able to identify successes of other industrialized nations - think Sweden, France, etc. - and find a way to may them workable for us. Are 'we' really so proud and complacent that we can't admit that we haven't all the answers?

See, once I get thinking about all the ways in which we are going wrong, it's hard to break free. It becomes such a weight. And while I understand that I, as an individual, can do little if anything to change the course of history, I do know that social movements and uprisings of the sort that we very obviously need, require a start somewhere. With one person. And then another. And so it goes.

Where is the momentum we so desperately need? And how is it possible to prioritize such impossibly huge and all-encompassing issues? Is it more important to concentrate on education or environmental sustainability or equal pay for women in the workplace or fair treatment of gays or media conglomerates or economic development of Third World countries, or the genocide in Darfur? How can we say?

There are so many things requiring our attention its so easy to become paralyzed and do what we've long been doing: Nothing