uH Oh....I broke all 10 commandments. Solution: Jesus or Anti-depressents.

So in Bible study this week we are talking about the 10 commandments. My summary version goes something like this:

1 & 2. No other idols/gods
3. Don't use His name in vain
4. Keep Sabbath holy (rest!)
5. Honor your parents
6. Don't murder
7. Don't commit adultery
8. Don't steal
9. Don't lie
10. Don't covet

Going down this list I realized something. I have broken every single one of these commandments. #6 &7 sound pretty severe, but looking at Matthew 5:27 and 5:21... I realized I'm guilty of these as well ! Christ said even if we lust/fantasize in our mind we commit adultery...if we are angry with our neighbor we murder him.

Overall I am a...
Idolatrous
Disrespectful
Over-worked
Disobedient
Murderous
Thieving
Lying
Jealous
Whore

*Hear me out for a second and see where I am going with this*

Then we looked at Romans 6:23 "...for the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord"

Thank goodness for Jesus' atonement or I'd be up Molasses Swamp without a paddle. It's a pretty hard concept for us humans to wrap our minds around the truth that someone died FOR us. I saw a video at church once where they took 10 kids to like New Zealand for a retreat. They lived on a farm and took care of this lamb the entire week (along with other animals). At the end of the week the farmer told the teens they would be killing the lamb. Many of them cried in horror at this news. Then the farmer related the lamb to Christ (aka "the sacrificial lamb"). It was like the most life changing video I've seen. Sometimes the reality of the crucifixion seems to disappear because Christians discuss Christ's death so often. I hope to change that nonchalance attitude. After all, I consider Him my Father who DIED so I could live eternally.

As a kid, you accept things as truth without much questioning. Accepting the biblical story was no problem for me. Yes Christ came, died and rose again. Issue for me, however, was that living eternally part. Questions arose...

What if I didn't want to live eternally?
What would I do with all that time?
What if my short attention span led to an eternity of boredom?
What would eternal clocks look like?
Is God's time like military time? If so, that's too complicated...

You get the idea. Anyway I realized around age 10 that I had two options. Possibly be bored in heaven, or be on fire in Hell. You can guess which option sat better with me (hint: I wasn't the neighborhood pyro).

So I guess bible study has led me this week to contemplate how much I really do deserve the brimstone and fire end of the spectrum AND how thankful I am for God's gift of eternal life. Now I am just wondering if the New Testament was never written...what anti-depressant I'd currently be taking.

Galatians 5:16-18
"So I say, let the Holy Spirit guide your lives. Then you won’t be doing what your sinful nature craves. The sinful nature wants to do evil, which is just the opposite of what the Spirit wants. And the Spirit gives us desires that are the opposite of what the sinful nature desires. These two forces are constantly fighting each other, so you are not free to carry out your good intentions. But when you are directed by the Spirit, you are not under obligation to the law of Moses."

Hello Toes.

Goodbye Toes.

Burning Crosses and Kissing A Black Jesus. A day in the life of Madonna

This Pepsi commercial was extremely controversial when it first came out. The song is titled "Like A Prayer" and to this day much debate surrounds it's meaning. Some say the lyrics have sexual connotations and that these lyrics (and the music video) mock the church, while other fans say the song refers to a young girl calling on her creator. Whatever the true meaning of the lyrics, the commercial was pulled a few weeks after it aired.

For those not familiar with the controversial music video, here it is below.

Some intertextual connections I notice:

-Madonna: actress/singer/author, mother, controversy, icon (Horizontal Intertextuality)

-Burning crosses: the KKK, intimidation/fear, the media, "hiding" behind symbols

-Church: evoking guilt vs.grace, public place, open arms

-The statue that comes to life: A Black Jesus, misunderstood leaders (MLK, Malcom X) the "curse of Ham," Armanian Jews (Vertical Intertextuality)

FALLing backwards is harder than SPRINGing forwards.

The clocks changed today. They "fall" back an hour every year. And yet, every year, I never remember. I certainly recall the springing forward of the clocks, but the falling backwards is somehow more difficult. I am pondering this lovely November morning why it is harder to remember to turn your clock an hour backwards than it is to turn it an hour forwards. Possible reasons may include:

1. We grew up learning that clocks are supposed to always be wound forward.
Research shows, however, that this only applies to antique clocks. Modern clocks can be wound forwards or backwards an hour to adjust for Daylight Savings. Back in the day, however, clock makers suggested stopping your clock for an hour to adjust for DST.

2. Many of us, like me, are upset when we move the clocks forward. We lose time and, therefore, are set on making sure the clocks set correctly the night before. We can't be late for anything in "on the go" America.

3. The clocks are impartial to the spring season. They do not like fall because everyone stares at them all the time. In the spring, when people are more relaxed, the clock tends to get more "private time" to itself.

4. We actually do set our clocks backwards. While we are asleep, however, cubbard gnomes, The Borrowers and those stealing Harry Potter creatures (nurvels?) change the clocks back. They find it amusing to laugh at our expense.

With these possible reasons established, I now ask what life would be like if clocks, naturally, moved backwards. Obviously this proposal seems silly and would never happen because time, in theory, moves forwards. But still, would the day feel different? If the day began at 12am but then progressed to 11pm and 10pm, etc...would our biological clock get off?

Also, according to Physics, is falling backwards harder than springing forwards in general? According to NASA's website, an object falling (in any direction) picks up speed thus kinetic energy as gravity pulls it down. They note:

"For the speed v, or the kinetic energy that he/she reaches, it doesn't matter whether the fall is straight down by h or on an arc path... In both cases the kinetic energy attained is equal to the difference in potential energy given by the height difference h.

This statement leads me to think my hypothesis that FALLing backwards is harder than SPRINGing forwards is not always true. In a physics sense, the two should be equal. This is how it is in the sport of snowboarding as well.

When a snowboarder is going down the hill, often they fall due to "catching an edge." A toe edge will cause a fall forwards while a heel edge will cause the boarder to fall backwards. Either fall results from the snowboarder lacking to commit to one edge (front or back). Falling is far less painful (whether forwards or backwards) when the snowboarder commits to their fall. Both the physicist and snowboarder know that each fall (either direction) requires the same amount of energy. Perhaps we each, like the snowboarder, make a choice to between falling forwards or backwards. For me to say, therefore, that falling backwards is harder than forwards is just my own personal choice. Some people may have more difficulty moving their clock forwards.

It's interesting that I find it easier to move my clock forwards during DST as well as to fall forwards on my snowboard. Positive correlation, or?

Whatever the answer to these mind boggling scenarios, I am up and hour earlier than I need to be and am going back to bed : )

I may OD on Echinacea

The mutiny occuring within the walls of my skin is unprecedented. The sickness contaminates my entire house: tissues line the shower floor, my once spotless sink is now masked in mucus, even cough drops bask in my windowsills.

I have been recently visualizing my brain sending a signal to my nose to breathe.

I think my nose's walkie talkie is turned off because it's not working. Moreover, my throat feels like it just hosted a Disco party where everyone wore stilletos and the dance floor was football turf. The barely opened eyes of mine are as dry as the Downy dryer sheets I keep forgetting to buy. If all of this isn't enought to deal with, my head has begun to pulse. Perhaps my brain believes it can escape the terror occuring inside of me before it too is affected (with a migrane!)

I have pondered going to see the doctor at the Health Center. My fear of eternally being classified as a hypochondriac, however, is stopping me. This fear arises due to the fact that I have already visited for: an ear infection, a upper respiratory infection, an ambiguous rash, the annual gyno scarefest, AND a physical required by my dance company.

I am taking steps to prevent Health Center blacklisting. They are as follows:

1. OD'ing on Echinecea 3-6 times a day
2. Not sharing my lotion covered Kleenex with anyone
3. Drinking more water than a camel can hold in both its two humps combined
4. Eating every food high in Vitamin C content within a 0.2 miles radius

So here I am, "sticking it out" + trying to write some knockout copy= Bliss.

SHamU YoU!

My childhood is officially complete: I saw Shamu.

Ok, well maybe it wasn't THE shamu. After all, I hear that whale has been dead for awhile. But it doesn't matter. Whether I saw Shamu the killer whale, or his daughter Shamusina, the show was amazing!

Sea World has a variety of shows throughout the park. From dancing dolphins and beluga whales to a walrus doing sit ups, Sea World was jaw dropping. One show I really enjoyed was Believe. The show featured four Orcas (AKA KILLER WHALES!) who were unbelievably intelligent. The trainers had taught these whales to flip, splash, and carry humans on their noses/backs. Watching the show I felt like I was at church, not Sea World! The believe theme of the show told audience members that anything was possible (and led most of us to feel our true calling in life was to work with these strikingly beautiful mammals.

While all the Orcas looked very happy to be in captivity, later research on this topic has made me not too happy about Sea World after all. Some research stated the following:

Captive Orcas have vastly-reduced life expectancies, on average only living into their 20s. In the wild, female Orcas can live to be 80 years old, while males can live to be 60 years old.

These figures are a bit worrisome. Much of Sea World focused on helping preserve the planet and endangered species living on it. Why then, I wonder, are they keeping these animals in captivity to begin with? I would love to interview a trainer working there and here some more information about why/how they choose which animals to bring into captivity.

Whatever the answers, I cannot deny how life changing the experience was. I hope to have the chance to visit again someday. Until then I will just have to hug my Shamu stuffed animal souvenir.

YES I am 23 and I bought a stuffed animal to take home. Go ahead, judge me.

Chocolate & Coffee for a Hellish Earache

Earaches are a lot more painful than one might expect. They tend to get worse when the inflicted points their frontal lobe on a steep diagonal towards the floor. Perhaps the fluid moving around is what causes the pain? Whatever it is, it's not pretty.

I suffered an Ear (and Upper Respiratory) infection simultaneously in September 2008. I remember it vividly. Of course I had to go to the health center twice before they noticed my dilema. Overtime I came to understand their ways, however, and soon was perfectly fine with scheduling two appointments back to back. As long as I eventually get the help I needed.

Why is it that school nurses (from elementary school on) tend to think crackers and water are the world's quintessential panacea? Why not chocolate and coffee? Particularly I think, if we are sticking to food and drink as drugs, rather than antibiotics, chocolate and coffee would make me feel much better than crackers and water.

Anyway, I'm recovering from being super sick (yay alliteration!) but I am quite behind on my work. From press releases and festival updates to dance rehearsals and late night eblast creations, it's hard to keep up when you are feeling under the weather.

What's that mean anyway? Under the weather? As opposed to...over the weather? I guess technically the weather tends to exist in the sky. So over the weather could be synonymous to heaven. Because of this, I would think it acceptable to say you are feeling either...
1. Heavenly
or
2. Hellish
My under the weather, hellish, feeling seems to be disappearing. Thank God :D

LOST in the biggest city ever!

I don't take the toll road a lot, but I did this morning after getting very very lost. I somehow ended up going towards the Dallas Airport!

It was then that I saw the airport toll man. He seems very angry whenever I drive by his toll booth. Being such a happy outgoing person, I just can’t understand where his anger comes from. If I had the chance to be him for a day, perhaps I could find answers to this inscrutable dilemma of mine. Soon I would have answers to questions such as: How does he use the restroom? Doesn’t he get tired of standing so long? And, more importantly, does every passerby (as a courtesy) turn off their windshield wipers when paying the toll in the rain?

Sometimes when I meet angry people I would love to just go up to them and give them a huge hug. In our society, however, I'd probably have the police called on me! I also get this urge when I see cute children, especially those age 3-4. For example, the other day I was at the Dallas Aquarium and I saw a toddler running around. She was adorable in her red squeaky shoes. With every step she took her shoes let out a loud "sqqqqqqqqqueak." If her mother wouldn't think I was a child pedophile I would have smothered that tot in love.

Hooters. For the Food!

So my friend told me we should go to Hooters restaurant sometime soon. Seeing as she has always been boyfriendless, along with the fact that 2 of my past best girlfriends turned lesbian on me, I took a step back.

"What would we go to Hooters for?"

She told me "they have really good wings and fries." After a few minutes of fry description on her part, I interupted. "So you go there often?" I asked, with a sense that she, despite a lack of boob-ness, may have even worked there.

"Well yes of course, if I get the chance!"

Now my boyfriend has mentioned the same thing to me before. He says he has been to Hooters once and the food was AMAZING. I instantly dismissed such a statement as a typical guy lie. While I wanted to believe that people may actually enter the restaurant for the food, society norms told me differently.

Today's revelation that he may have, although I'm still doubtful, enjoyed the food just as much as, if not MORE than, the flesh-filled scenery was quite comforting.

I talk about sex and money a lot... but I'm not Jewish

Today a Jewish boy hit on me. Well, I assumed he was Jewish because he was wearing a Yamaka. Or maybe he was just a poser.

Whatever he was, he hit on me. BIG time flirt, but maybe he was just trying to be friendly? I just smiled and continued ordering my 6 piece chicken nugget while pondering why this boy was hitting on me to begin with. I didn't look good (makeup-less w.baggy sweats) and I didn't show any interest (my eyes were fixed on the menu with its inappropriately small font). Why would he flirt with me?

Maybe he thought I was Jewish too. I've had this happen many times. For example, when I was in eighth grade (at lil' Columbus School for Girls) my class had a tea party with a holocaust survivor. He discussed how some Jews survived by pretending they were not Jewish. Nevertheless, he informed us, some Jews look a bit too "Jewish" to get away with such lies.

"For example," he told us, "some of you in this room have a Jewish family background. Like you," he said pointing to me, "I can tell by your looks alone."

After the tea party I revealed to the nice old man that I was not Jewish.

"Well," he laughed, "if you were in Munich with me you might have been in trouble!"

This assumption may not be too far off. In fact, for a long time, I even thought my family was Jewish since most family dinners focus on discussion of money or sex. Whether we are authentically Jewish or not, however, remains a mystery. Their is a rumor that my great grandpa on my mother's side was a Hungarian Jew. The story says he fled Europe and changed his last name from Davis to Perrault. Whatever my ancestral history truly is, I have always been interested in Jewish culture. In particular, I have always wondered why the Jews have undergone so much hostility wherever they travel.

Throughout time, the Jewish people have suffered many acts of oppression. In Exodus the Jews suffered under Pharoh. In the mid- 1500’s Martin Luther published a treatise advocating their harsh oppression. In Germany, Hitler worked to extinguish their entire race. Nevertheless, the Jews always have hope!

Wishing for something has an uncertainty about it. Hoping, however, has the desire that one day it will indeed come true. Jews seem to have this desire.

Lack of hope can spur on feelings of discouragement and disillusionment. Perhaps this is what Jewish architect Menashe Kadishman was trying to show in his Segments, a piece of art I recently saw on display at the Nasher Sculpture Center. The disillusionment he created by using glass (see-through material) to support the aluminum (as is it were floating) may have reflected the disillusionment that developed when Hope disappeared. And yet, after each missing piece of the sculpture (after each glass segment) the viewer sees white. Perhaps this white is plain hope: a new and vast beginning. The fact that each white piece is balanced and defying gravity may also be the way the artist told his audience that the Jewish people were defying their oppression. Who knows?

Some research showed me that with the Israeli Declaration of Independence, the townspeople of Tel Aviv (where Kadishman is from) were, metaphorically, floating. Balancing (or basing) their lives on this new hope. To me, the word balance itself is almost synonymous to hope... When dancing especially I feel “hope” when “balancing” haha

Oh Tangents.

But yes, like I said...I'm not Jewish, so please don't hit on me.

But seriously, didn't he see my fake engagement ring? lol

Dieting has the word DIE in it

So I think I may create a new diet book. I would like to show a preview here:

Chapter:
1. If a cookie is broken, it has no calories.
2. Eating before, during and after working is essential.
3. One must always eat what their mother places before them.
4. Whatever food your grandma gives you must also be eaten.
5. Gum chewing aids in digestion.
6. It's ok to eat whatever you want as long as you no one saw it happen.
7. Chocolate is good for you.

8. Chocolate is good for you.

9. Chocolate is good for you.

Or perhaps a book about why NOT to diet would be much more entertaining. It would say...

Chapter:
1. Self-control is over-rated.
2. A hobo told me the world is ending in 2012 so there's no need.
3. You are actually comfortable with who you are.
4. Sitting on the floor is more comfortable the fatter you become.
5. Dieting is for Lent.
6. Healthy food upsets your stomach.
7. Dieting ultimately leads to death of the spirit.

...and much more

I Webcam Stalked my Mom Today

Today I decided to watch my mother (via webcam) while she spoke on the phone. Seeing as this is an event I have viewed my entire life, I thought trying to mimic her might be interesting. Unlike the average American mom of four children, she does not pace around hurriedly on a cell phone when speaking, or relax in a comfy chair. Conversely, she is constantly switching positions as she lay on the floor. One moment she looks like a Muslim praying to Mecca, while the next second one might mistake her for being a woman participating in an elite level yoga class.

One big part of my mom is that she is very loud and big with her motions. Perhaps stemming from her previous theater roots, my mother’s laugh is so energetic that video tapes of my childhood show that when she laughed, I cried (startled at the noise)! My mom also is always doodling on her calendar or whatever she can find nearby. Never staring into space, she is always intently focused over some paper or another when speaking with someone. Perhaps her need for concentration and quiet when speaking causes her to go into her common “shell” position on the ground.

Additionally, my mom will let the rest of the family know when she is tired of talking on the phone through her facial motions. Widening her eyes or raising her brows are the most commonly used gestures. Nevertheless, the occasional pretending often comes in handy to pull herself away from the phone. My family is known for their lengthy over-analytical conversations, causing my mom the need to sometimes use excuses to end her conversation. It is my favorite part of her phone routine!

One final aspect of her speaking on the phone is not something I viewed this weekend, but a trait that I recall from my childhood. Somehow my mom always seemed to make her speaking on the phone into playtime. From allowing me to swing from the freezer door, to pretending she was speaking with the “local orphanage” concerning my acceptance, my mom is constantly using her imagination. Her ability to multi-task is not quite as evident as she’s gotten older. Instead she must focus on one thing at a time when she is on the phone.

MOVING.

The implications are numerous. Each concluding with the final connotation of WORK.

1. A Garage Sale

Who doesn't love earning side cash by simply getting rid of old junk? A garage sale, however, is much more than a chance to earn it when you curb it (as I like to say). It's profiting off those pesky neighbors whose dog barks until 2am! It brings bartering across the Mexican-American border. Garage sales even may help you achieve your summer tan early. But, perhaps the most important aspect to consider, a garage sale is work.

Going through ALL of your belongings can take days! Only to find what you thought they were worth is questionable according to Ebay. Then there are the stickers and sharpie markings that follow; not to forget the careful arranging of "Sale at 5311 University" signs. Yes, in the end, all your planning may prove fruitful. Or, if you are like me, the only attendee that makes a purchase happens to also need that Census information you forgot to turn in.

2. Lots of Boxes

Sure, boxes are handy for transporting your stuff. From the awful candle holders that earn a box spot under the category of "family heirloom," to that dress that looks so good you don't dare wear it out of the house, boxes are a necessity to moving. Nevertheless, moving boxes are quite the diabolical necessity. Moving boxes will not move easily; it takes years of training and great dedication to master their deceptive charms.

By age 12, a fitting age for one's first move as the ability to accept change grows, one masters the folding of the box. Next, at age 18, it's off to college; one discovers how to best pack a box. The next stage in the moving life cycle is the taping of the box. Here the cunning scheme of the box itself begins.An approximate age is difficult to pin down as this stage can continue for decades. While some box theorists may argue taping is a simple level in box comprehension, many of us know full well the opposite as truth. The likelihood of taping a box down is dependent on three factors: finding of the tape on the roll, cutting the tape, and, finally, avoiding sticking the tape to something else (before initial box contact).

In addition to the aforementioned work surrounding the assembly of the moving box, one must also consider the work required to find available boxes. Unless, of course, you buy these boxes new. In which case 'work' enters the picture as 'work' is needed to earn money to pay for the outrageous prices.

3. New Roommates

Be it new family or craig's list favorite rentals, every move offers new company. Even if it's just the local spiders. Whatever the case, here the phrase "Bad Company Corrupts Good Character" often rings true. A bad roommate can cause mood swings even greater than the average menopausal mother of four! Because of this, many people look for de-stressers when forced to deal with the bad company on a daily basis. So please, my moving maniacs, watch your alcohol intake before, during or after a recent move.

4. Change of Address

OH YES, this moving category must not be forgotten... although it often is. Even the most nomadic of Jews knows the dire importance of telling friends where you are going next! (Yes, I can make a Jewish joke because I may be 25% Hungarian Jew. But that's another story). SO, where to go when it's time to put in that change of location? The post office? I THINK NOT! Long lines, Mapquest mishaps, and crying babies whose gender is yet to be determined await you at the post office. It's best, I think, to go online and change your address. Yes, it still is work for those of us suffering the long term effects of carpal tunnel....BUT, it's a whole Lake of Fire a lot better than driving to the post office.

I image that most of the above connotations of work are things most of the public just does not consider before deciding to move. Silly Americans. All we think of is the increase or decrease in the total cost of gas for our new commute to work. But today, America, I say to you this: think. Think of the workload moving requires. Then ask yourself if you really need an area closer to work, with better schools, less crime, a more comfortable climate, cheaper cost of living, or a new career. Think of the costs of shipping, storage, moving vans, hiring movers, travel expenses, time lost from work and deposit fees for your new home...TBC.

The Lucky Abes

Sometimes kids collect things. Beany babies, buttons, shoe strings. I must say I collected a lot of things when I was young. In fact, I still own my rock collection (it is one of the few things I have to display on the shelves of my basically bare apartment). My favorite collection, however, has always been my lucky penny collection. Or, as I like to call it, my Lucky Abes.It's called the "Lucky Abes" because Abraham Lincoln's face is on the American penny (I'm hoping that was obvious but I spelled it out if anyone was day dreaming).

A lucky penny is something I’m quite obsessed with.

I have a lucky penny collection that ranges from 1945-2007. I like to clean this collection biannually with Tabasco sauce. In fact, when organizing the kitchen pantry this summer I found five bottles of Tabasco sauce, all which are only used to beautify my precious pennies. I stumbled upon my most prized lucky penny (from 1945) while skydiving from Mt. Kilimanjaro one day. Just kidding, ignore the slight addendum, I actually found the penny in my wallet, which is kind of lame.

There have been moments where my lucky pennies were at risk (like the time my parents tried to add it to their Coinstar trip to Kroger). Now, to keep them safe, I have them in my bedside drawer...not my desk at home. There aren't many symbols of luck that aren't Irish. This is what makes the penny so unique and cool! I wonder if the coins for 1 cent in other countries are considered lucky when found on the ground. If I was a symbol of luck (like Lincoln is) I would make sure people knew that by spending me they were living life on luck. I wonder how he would feel if he knew he symbolized luck to children throughout the US (or at least lucky pennies are big in Ohio!)

Too often pennies are not considered important! For example, many stores price items at $5.99 or $9.99 (this is a type of heuristic) and customers end up with a penny as their change. Often these customers just ask the sales clerk to keep the change! I, however, love to keep my pennies. Sometimes I drop them by parks where I imagine other collecting-kids find them (and it's the highlight of their day!).

Well I started blogging about this because I realized the Lucky Abes are probably in need of a good clean. Now where's that Tabasco sauce...

Acts of Violence in Fashion

The same writer who designed the highly controversial "I had an abortion" t-shirt has a new line. It reads "I was raped."

Jennifer Baumgardner says she created the shirt last April to bring rape into everyday conversation as a way of easing feelings of shame or fear that are common among victims. I know I personally would not feel empowered if I was a rape victim wearing the shirt. I think such a statement would not be worn by victims in the first place if many can barely speak about the incident to begin with.

I am interested to know how a rape victim feels about this shirt. I happen to know four women in my life who are close to me and have dealt with rape. Most of these beautiful ladies expressed their feelings that fashion was not the arena where the conversation needed started. They did, however, like the fact that the money went to support for rape victims, to include counseling services which many do not get.

Traumatic experiences such as "abortion" or "rape" are often personal, between that person and God. Speaking about the experience, however, is important. I am not sure how I feel about the t-shirt.

Résumés All Gone Wrong

Reading today about how a résumé should look was extremely helpful. It led me to completely revamp my old résumé today. Boy did I have things wrong! For example, my résumé included a picture of myself. So not professional! I am not sure why I ever egotistically included a picture! Too many modeling calls, dance auditions and commercial work! Needless to say, that’s gone… along with my first-person writing style. “I” this, “I” that…not objective at all. Now my résumé is laid out into three sections rather than seventy six haha. After all, a résumé IS NOT an outline for my next short novel. While the employer is “researching” me, so to speak, I do not need to back every fact up with an exhaustive narrative outline only found in research papers.

By the way, have you ever experienced the elation that erupts from heart when you type an assignment single-spaced and then (at the end) double-space it to find the assignment finally meets the required number of pages….

Well writing your résumé is not like that at all.

In fact it’s kind of the reverse of that.

My previous résumé was double spaced/bullet format. 2 pages. Apparently a résumé should be 1 page no matter what. Even if someone told you that you’d get 1 million paper cuts from cutting down your resume to size (1 page) YOU MUST DO THIS.

And one last important fact from Brad Karsh’s resource section on résumés: they cannot contain grammatical errors! No, this was not new to me. Nevertheless, as a grammar freak, my conscious forced me to scribble down that fact here…so that whoever reads this may also know that fact.
And they can tell their friend.
And their friend can tell their future children.
And those children will correct their elders for improper use of the English language.
And this world of sharing knowledge will lead to freedom of independent, intelligent dialogue.

Zogby's "globals": Tolerating Intolerance Worldwide?

I attended a lecture today by Zogby. "IBOPE Zogby International is a premier global public opinion polling and market research firm that offers timely, accurate results."

Zogby mentioned many thought-provoking things during his discussion of The Way We Will Be, but what captured my interest most was the fact that: My generation, the globals, in large part (57% or so), own a passport.

This means globalization is most likely an idea my generation will strive for. Introduction to new cultures can open up our eyes/minds to new ideas. I personally experienced this when I visited Munich, Germany about 2 years ago. The culture of Munich was much different than what I was used to in little ol' Columbus, Ohio. While at first I was quite the victim of culture shock, I later came to appreciate numerous aspects of Munich culture that once scared/shocked me.

In particular, I came to appreciate how Germans drink. A normal day consisted of mamosas with breakfast, beer with lunch and wine with dinner...and sometimes more beer during an evening out if it was a weekend night. My first reaction to all this drinking was that my generation (Eropean style) was out of control! They certainly were all headed for hangovers, alcoholism and perhaps straight to hell. Nevertheless, as I spent more time in Germany, I came to realize they drink for reasons much different than why my generation (in America) drinks. It seems, from my experiences, American "globals" drink to get drunk...whereas German "globals" drink as part of their culture. Not once did I attend a German party where I saw someone throw up or make-out with someone they didn't know.

One aspect of German culture that I'm still undecided on is the high amount of tolerance in Germany. I guess us "globals" in general seem pretty tolerant. And tolerance always is a good thing right? Well...not always. I think that sometimes too much tolerance can be a bad thing. For example, the government tolerates the KKK. Here intolerance is being tolerated. I don't agree with that...
Or in Germany, the people tolerate an intolerance to embracing religion. In fact, only 2% of Germany attends church regularly (a shocking drop from 68% prior to WWII). If, in a social setting, someone brings up religion they are instantly seen as foolish or not up to speed on the way the world works. Article 4 of the Bavarian Constitution calls for equal treatment of all religions. Nevertheless, Bavaria (as well as 5 other German states) have enacted laws that treat different religions in different ways. For example, four years ago teachers in Germany were banned from wearing Muslim headscarves. The crucifixes, yarmulkes and even nuns' habits, however, were not banned. As a sophmore in high school, I very distinctly remember seeing this on the news. Commentators discussed how the headscarves had become a political (not religious) symbol of extreme fundamentalism.

I am sure other cultures, from Western America to China, have globals who claim to be tolerant, and yet sit back allowing intolerance to be tolerated (both at home and abroad). My generation, the globals, must not only travel with a sense of tolerance, but intolerance as well. Tolerance demonstrates that we can indeed have too much of a good thing.