<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351</id><updated>2011-07-08T01:02:39.058-05:00</updated><category term='Early voting'/><category term='Not Funny'/><category term='funny'/><category term='news'/><category term='books'/><category term='Personal responsibility'/><category term='working mom unite'/><category term='Christmas presents'/><category term='Stereotypes'/><category term='Only in Real Life'/><category term='theatre'/><category term='My 5th grader'/><category term='Republican vs. Democrat'/><category term='President Elect'/><category term='You people'/><category term='Health Care Reform'/><category term='i am 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term='heard on NPR'/><category term='guilt trip'/><category term='prayers'/><category term='Go girl'/><category term='New York City'/><category term='from wired'/><category term='OMG'/><category term='Neil Gaiman'/><category term='cool things to do'/><category term='multiculturalism'/><category term='City gal'/><category term='I have Obama fever so sue me'/><category term='Sake the Elixir'/><category term='Fun'/><category term='Not Joe the Plumber'/><category term='Web 2.0'/><category term='The Worst Award goes to...'/><category term='Google'/><category term='be nice'/><category term='Driving myself nuts'/><category term='i am a people person'/><category term='reality bites'/><category term='random facts'/><category term='twitter'/><category term='random thoughts'/><category term='the world'/><category term='No reception'/><category term='Rant'/><category term='Dilbert'/><category term='social media'/><category term='President Obama'/><title type='text'>The Absence of Alternatives</title><subtitle type='html'>My therapy sessions...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>197</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3708246533858626285</id><published>2009-08-14T13:46:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T20:10:33.136-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Economist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='We love statistics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what do you know'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='We love Charts'/><title type='text'>People in Germany need to have more sex. Or keep their clunkers. According to the Economist. Well, kind of.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.economist.com/research/articlesBySubject/displaystory.cfm?subjectid=7933596&amp;amp;story_id=14191301"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px; display: block; height: 280px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369892742030999890" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SoWw_3q0wVI/AAAAAAAAAQs/pvRr4X8pUsg/s400/Birth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People in Germany really need to start having more sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Otherwise they are really going to need Death Panel for Grandmas, you know, when there are no more young people to take care of the old people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;That was my first thought when I saw this chart. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;On second thought, sex does not necessarily lead to pregnancy, unless you are having it in the back of your parents' car. Or your very first beat-up old clunker. Better if you are drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So my &lt;em&gt;revised &lt;/em&gt;word of advice:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Germans need to have more drunken sex in the back of their parents' car, or get more clunkers.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Then I saw this other chart, comparing government sponsored "Cash for Clunkers" programs in several countries:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.economist.com/research/articlesBySubject/displaystory.cfm?subjectid=7933596&amp;amp;story_id=14205513"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 382px; display: block; height: 400px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369894376624711282" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SoWyfBAVZnI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/3ffJ0HLnX2Q/s400/Cars.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hold on a second, while I take a mental note...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note to self: Great cocktail conversation tidbit - "Do you know the U.S. is not the only one, and definitely not the first one, to come up with the 'Cash for Clunkers' program?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note to self, again: Scratch that. Someone is bound to say, "Exactly. Those are all socialist, or Facist, countries, or whatever, European! countries. That's why we should object to it loudly. Preferrably bring a loaded handgun with you to town hall meetings." And then the cocktail party, if I were ever invited to one, would go downhill from there... So, NOT A GOOD IDEA! Ok. Fine! Scratch the entire Note to Self 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I saw this second chart about Cash for Clunkers program in other countries, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eureka! I thought.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See how the government in Germany spent $7.1 billion on their "Get Rid of Clunker" program?&lt;br /&gt;There you go, my friend. That is why the birth rate in Germany remains the lowest. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3708246533858626285?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3708246533858626285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3708246533858626285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3708246533858626285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3708246533858626285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/people-in-germany-need-to-have-more-sex.html' title='People in Germany need to have more sex. Or keep their clunkers. According to the Economist. Well, kind of.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SoWw_3q0wVI/AAAAAAAAAQs/pvRr4X8pUsg/s72-c/Birth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3666315399413310086</id><published>2009-08-13T10:00:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T10:25:38.946-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books I am NOT reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stereotypes'/><title type='text'>Live squid is not part of the standard diet in China, or Asia for that matter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Once in a while I get all riled up with my mouth foaming like a rabid dog.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My irrational anger especially loves a good target of Stereotype Mongers and Exoticism Panderer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;s.  This is that kind of moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PMS.  Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The target of my rant today is this book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lost on Planet China: The Strange and True Story of One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation, or &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;How He Became Comfortable Eating Live Squid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at that title, and please tell me it is not being deliberately sensationalizing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, I have a great sense of humor.  Like all great Jewish comedians (by the way, I am neither) I have perfected self-deprecating humor.  I can make fun of myself, ourselves, my people, my race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT I was not impressed with the passages my husband quoted me from the book.  My "stereotype police" and "pandering to exoticism" antenna immediately went up when the author starts the book by talking about a restaurant menu full of internal organs of a goat.  He claimed that was the first restaurant he walked in when he landed in China.  Just picked it out of the random.  His good luck then.  I would not even know where to find one myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Let me emphasize this again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;WE DO NOT EAT LIVE SQUID OR GOAT BRAINS AS A DAILY MEAL. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;They are probably sold in some specialty restaurants.  But NOT part of the standard diet.  Can people just please get over it already?!  Besides, you eat moldy cheese which is pretty sickening if you ask me.  So there, we are even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And seriously, I HAVE A QUESTION:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How come it is all chi chi, high class, cultured, sophisticated, and cosmopolitan to eat raw fish and octopus in a Japanese restaurant? And live squid is now, YEW. How disgusting. How barbarian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After browsing through the &lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1975116.Lost_on_Planet_China_The_Strange_and_True_Story_of_One_Man_s_Attempt_to_Understand_the_World_s_Most_Mystifying_Nation_or_How_He_Became_Comfortable_Eating_Live_Squid"&gt;reviews&lt;/a&gt; and seeing a high percentage of the people say that they knew NOTHING or little about the country and the culture before they read the book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GREAT.  JUST GREAT!  &lt;/span&gt;I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am becoming more and more agitated by the existence of this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TTYL. Now I need to go find a book about how white people can't jump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3666315399413310086?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3666315399413310086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3666315399413310086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3666315399413310086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3666315399413310086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/once-in-while-i-get-all-riled-up-with.html' title='Live squid is not part of the standard diet in China, or Asia for that matter'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4643817370157195113</id><published>2009-08-11T06:58:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T08:24:04.939-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Always love a good debate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a fan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Web 2.0'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='websites i dig'/><title type='text'>"Raw information will become not just a commodity, it will be a nuisance"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chris and Malcolm are both wrong...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in a while I come across smart people (online only, since you know, we moms are notoriously boring and mundane in real life, and many may even suspect that we have few braincells left so we don't get engaged in intelligent conversations, in real life - AND that, my friend, was said with a sarcastic tone through gritted teeth, so don't you mommy police out there flame me!) who I really really want to meet in real life.  I found one today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.unionsquareventures.com/bios/brad.html"&gt;Brad Burnham&lt;/a&gt; at Union Square Ventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His latest post on the Union Square Ventures blog, &lt;a href="http://www.unionsquareventures.com/2009/08/chris_and_malco.html"&gt;Chris and Malcolm are both wrong&lt;/a&gt;, is the most elucidating, thought-provoking, argument against both Chris Anderson's glossy, wrapped-nicely-in-a-package theory of "Freeconomics" and Malcolm Gladwell's &lt;a href="http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2009/07/06/090706crbo_books_gladwell"&gt;critique&lt;/a&gt; of Anderson's book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Free&lt;/span&gt;, in which the theory was mapped out, supported with anecdotal examples (a la Gladwell's own books?!), packaged, and sold, NOT for free, not any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed reading Gladwell's books, but am always wary that easy reading and interesting stories that make you go "A-Ha" do not rigorous research/theorization made.  Although I have not had a chance to read Anderson's book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Free&lt;/span&gt;, I have read enough articles summarizing the thesis, AND his previous book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Long Tail&lt;/span&gt;, to also be wary of the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thank you indeed to Mr. Burnham for the article in which his critique of both is summarized in this, ok, granted, nicely-packaged and highly quotable, paragraph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My frustration with the debate about Free is that it seems like a last ditch effort to fit the internet economy into the familiar framework of the industrial economy. That isn't going to work. Free is not a pricing strategy, a marketing strategy, or the inevitable consequence of a market with low variable costs. It's a symptom of a much more fundamental economic shift. Until we agree on what resources are scarce and have a framework for how they will be allocated in the future we are not just talking past each other, we are talking about the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Mr. Burnham's argument is that the new currency is ATTENTION (and participation), and it does not come free.  Hence the "fundamental shift of economy".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is an exchange of value between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: italic;"&gt;users&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, the creators of the raw material - data, content, and meta-data, and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="font-style: italic;"&gt;network&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; where that data is converted into insight. This exchange is still governed by the basic laws of economics but the currency is not dollars, it's attention. The network that takes attention and converts it into insight is also quite different than a traditional firm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, per my usual excitable nature, I would quote the entire post if I could. Probably better if you take the time and check out the entire post on the Union Square Ventures blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND the last but the not the least, at least in my book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NEVER once did he mention "paradigm shift". THANK YOU MY GOOD SIR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Another great, and very useful, quote, that is absolutely t-Shirt Worthy!***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Raw information will become not just a commodity, it will be a nuisance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Thanks to &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/leftunderbooks"&gt;@leftunderbooks&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Goodies! A debate!! Timeline of the chain of debate between He said, He said:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris Anderson finally published his book, after he pre-released it to reviewers, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Free-Future-Radical-Chris-Anderson/dp/1401322905"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Free: The Future of a Radical Price&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, this summer.  (It costs $26.99 on Amazon! WTH?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malcolm Gladwell wrote a review for New Yorker, debunking Mr. Anderson's entire thesis, using, for example, YouTube's failure to make a profit as fodder, titled: "&lt;a href="http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2009/07/06/090706crbo_books_gladwell"&gt;Price to Sell: Is Free the Future?&lt;/a&gt;" Mr. Gladwell's answer is not surprisingly, NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/henry-blodget-malcolm-gladwell-chris-anderson-is-wrong-about-free-2009-6"&gt;The Business Insider&lt;/a&gt; immediately posted a long article, praising Mr. Gladwell's critique of the hole-ly thesis, "It's about time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Finally, a smart person who is widely considered cool calls b.s. on Chris Anderson's popular argument that everything should be free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The glee, oh, the glee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Anderson also started engaging Mr. Gladwell in a friendly intellectual debate on his blog:  "&lt;a href="http://www.longtail.com/the_long_tail/2009/06/dear-malcolm-why-so-threatened.html"&gt;Dear Malcolm, Why So Threatened?&lt;/a&gt;" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(If you ask me: the title itself is not very friendly at all...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4643817370157195113?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4643817370157195113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4643817370157195113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4643817370157195113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4643817370157195113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/once-in-while-i-come-across-smart.html' title='&quot;Raw information will become not just a commodity, it will be a nuisance&quot;'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6132845652802710817</id><published>2009-08-06T10:44:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T11:22:49.169-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Addicted to Starbucks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Web 2.0'/><title type='text'>Armageddon is here: Twitter is down and Fail Whale is not even there?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnsAX8WjczI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zm8DcjE-gPY/s1600-h/twitterdown_610x381.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnsAX8WjczI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zm8DcjE-gPY/s400/twitterdown_610x381.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366883792279794482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snr6vNvjBhI/AAAAAAAAAQU/EPGRUYblh-k/s1600-h/fail-whale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snr6vNvjBhI/AAAAAAAAAQU/EPGRUYblh-k/s400/fail-whale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366877595015251474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can't believe I am saying this, but I wish Fail Whale will come back soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We miss you, Fail Whale!  We will never been mean to you and call you names again!  Just come back!!  You are so much better than a lot of other scenarios, we have now realized!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... by now you have heard, or tweeted, oh, no, NOT tweeted, but left frantic comments on &lt;a href="http://mashable.com/2009/08/06/facebook-down-3/"&gt;Mashable.com&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.techcrunch.com/2009/08/06/serious-twitter-outage-ongoing/"&gt;Techcrunch.com&lt;/a&gt; or other websites where Social Media lovers hang out, after they have tweeted and Facebooked their hearts out, but still have something more to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mashable is keeping a tab on the impending doom of humanity through this post: &lt;/span&gt;                       &lt;h1&gt;&lt;a href="http://mashable.com/2009/08/06/facebook-down-3/" class="fn url" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to Facebook Down. Twitter Down. Social Media Meltdown."&gt;Facebook Down. Twitter Down. Social Media Meltdown.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Thanks to our friend with the impossibly high cheekbones &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I will need to write a blog about these cheekbones one day. I wonder whether it can cut through a piece of tissue?  And what's up with the oh-so-appropriate and I-wish-my-dad-had-the-same last name, CASHMORE?  Luck of the draw, I guess.  But isn't illegal in the cosmic sense to be lucky in both the departments of Cheekbones and Family Names?)&lt;/span&gt;, we have been kept abreast with the development of Armageddon in the making:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;h1&gt;&lt;a href="http://mashable.com/2009/08/06/twitter-downtime/" class="fn url" rel="bookmark" title="Permanent Link to Twitter Down Due to Denial of Service Attack (DDoS)"&gt;Twitter Down Due to Denial of Service Attack (DDoS)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now, my friend, is the time to panic!!!!!!!  The sky is falling.  The sky is falling!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The sudden influx of &lt;/span&gt;Twitter refugees to Facebook site, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wherelse are we going to post constant updates and complain about our frustrations that Twitter is DOWN, and also to strive to be the first ones to announce the DDoS attack on Twitter? &lt;/span&gt;has caused Facebook to go down as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cyber terrorists could not have planned it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now people, with their usual outlets having disappeared, have flocked to Mashable and Techcrunch to share their glib comments.   On the one Techcrunch post, there are now more than 400 comments.  And several Mashable posts dedicated to "Twitter Down!" have also received hundreds of comments.  Most of them are like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yup. Still down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Thank you very much.  Otherwise I would not have been able to find out on my own!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has also become a fun sport to ponder who the Cyber attacker(s) may be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugo Chavez? Iran? The Vatican?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bet is on The Birthers, who are mad as hell because we all made fun of them mercilessly on Twitter.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Even Ann Coulter made fun of them, which made me feel kind of sorry for Birthers...)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But without Twitter as the forum, AND without the appropriate HASHTAGS #TwitterDown #DOS #WHOISBEHINDTHIS #TWITTERDDOS, the "Who Done It" game is just NOT the same...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now some of us have gotten a rude awakening: Just how much YOU ARE obsessed with Twitter.  Like the required cup of morning coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CAN'T --- FUNCTION --- WITHOUT --- IT ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of coffee, I think I am heading downstairs to Starbucks so I can talk to random strangers about this new social phenomenon called "Life Without Twitter"... And also get myself a cup of coffee while I am at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. F*ck it! I knew it! As soon as I clicked on "Publish Post", Twitter came back.  Great.  Now I just seem more a dweeb than I actually already am by publishing this AFTER THE EFFECT.  Stupid Twitter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s. I take it back.  I love you Twitter.  Don't ever leave me like that again, ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.p.s. Ooops. No. Twitter is STILL down.  Yes! ... Oh. No. *sobs* Come back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6132845652802710817?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6132845652802710817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6132845652802710817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6132845652802710817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6132845652802710817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/armageddon-is-here-twitter-is-down-and.html' title='Armageddon is here: Twitter is down and Fail Whale is not even there?!'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnsAX8WjczI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zm8DcjE-gPY/s72-c/twitterdown_610x381.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6509403654191696250</id><published>2009-08-05T16:03:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T10:00:24.838-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanderlust, perchance?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.boston.com/ae/books/articles/2004/11/03/author_enjoys_time_traveling_with_strangers____and_so_will_readers/"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snn5q14UGgI/AAAAAAAAAQM/xeh-l3G08fA/s320/bird+man.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366594945401756162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11077.The_Sex_Lives_of_Cannibals_Adrift_in_the_Equatorial_Pacific"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snn5q1HjXwI/AAAAAAAAAQE/hR6GGUle6bM/s320/cannibals.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366594945197235970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1975116.Lost_on_Planet_China_The_Strange_and_True_Story_of_One_Man_s_Attempt_to_Understand_the_World_s_Most_Mystifying_Nation_or_How_He_Became_Comfortable_Eating_Live_Squid"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snn5qkyaJeI/AAAAAAAAAP8/3gZtnnl8qSo/s320/china.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366594940813583842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My husband and I share one Amazon.com account, registered to my email, and therefore every time he buys something, I know.  Most of the time, I simply ignore it like the time when he ordered a bug zapper out of nowhere.  Or the book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, &lt;/span&gt;presumably for our oldest child, who by the way, is 11 years old and has not read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pride and Prejudice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;His purchase from Amazon today did make my eyebrows raise:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bird Man and the Lap Dancer: Close Encounters with Strangers by Eric Hansen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sex Lives of Cannibals: Adrift in the Equatorial Pacific by J. Maarten Troost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together with the book he just received:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost on Planet China: One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation, also by J. Maarten Troost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking, WHAT IS GOING ON?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanderlust?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is this a cry for something more exotic in his life, more than say, rice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more curious than anything.  Not really worried about him running off to some exotic land and never to be heard from again since, thank goodness, he is a finicky eater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I am pretty sure my husband would be quite annoyed if I blog about all his purchases from now on...  LOL&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6509403654191696250?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6509403654191696250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6509403654191696250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6509403654191696250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6509403654191696250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/wanderlust-perchance.html' title='Wanderlust, perchance?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Snn5q14UGgI/AAAAAAAAAQM/xeh-l3G08fA/s72-c/bird+man.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1140145686273115866</id><published>2009-08-05T15:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:59:40.078-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How do you know that this Ferris Wheel is not for the faint-of-heart?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnvnvyeBjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/RTOXK_P-o-0/s1600-h/IMG00462.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366583897110742578" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnvnvyeBjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/RTOXK_P-o-0/s400/IMG00462.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;When there is a motion sickness bag inside each cart... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Don't let the smiley Mickey Mouse on the Sun Wheel at California Adventure fool you. It is more like the Ferris Wheel of Doom, according to my 11 year-old boy who gladly rode California Screamin' half a dozen times whenever we visited Disneyland. He rated Screamin' as "Bor-ing" and the Sun Wheel as "OMG. It is the scariest thing I've been on!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bredgur/2039493802/"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366586904578625842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnyWzesETI/AAAAAAAAAP0/qTvB5V-8-ZA/s320/2039493802_a30aa9d9c9_o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1140145686273115866?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1140145686273115866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1140145686273115866' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1140145686273115866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1140145686273115866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/how-do-you-know-that-this-ferris-wheel.html' title='How do you know that this Ferris Wheel is not for the faint-of-heart?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnvnvyeBjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/RTOXK_P-o-0/s72-c/IMG00462.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2326975611793284068</id><published>2009-08-05T13:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T13:56:10.823-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City gal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>Camping turns out to be not as painful as I thought it would be</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnTp8I3XqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/SfsOwC0XcSo/s1600-h/IMG00082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnTp8I3XqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/SfsOwC0XcSo/s400/IMG00082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366553148460064418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;View from Blue Mounds, Wisconsin.&lt;br /&gt;Just to show you the perfect weather condition required to make me NOT hate camping... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not against camping, provided the weather is gorgeous, not too hot and not too cold; supply of alcohol is constant; bugs are kept at minimal and away from me; fire is made and kept; smores are made to perfection and fed to me; an awning is erected over the picnic table to keep food and supply dry and in the shade; kids are entertained, NOT BY ME; modern bathroom facilities are within short walking distance, like within 1-minute walk; gourmet food is brought and prepared, NOT BY ME, including pancake, scrambled eggs, bacon, AND drip coffee for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2326975611793284068?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2326975611793284068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2326975611793284068' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2326975611793284068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2326975611793284068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/camping-turns-out-to-be-not-as-painful.html' title='Camping turns out to be not as painful as I thought it would be'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnTp8I3XqI/AAAAAAAAAPk/SfsOwC0XcSo/s72-c/IMG00082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2906126021993248319</id><published>2009-08-05T13:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T13:37:47.503-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OMG'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>Is this what Easter Bunny looks like?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/lifestyle/green/chi-cc5rabbit20080821093148,0,5970604.photo"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnQyJleJII/AAAAAAAAAPc/BgE81TJbSeI/s400/41751401.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366549990973777026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't know why this picture so startled me that I could not stop laughing for 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god! I completely lost my bearings so that my co-worker needed to tell me to "Get a hold of yourself, lady!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This goes to prove that NO, you do not want to see Easter Bunny come true, and that my instinct was correct all along,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kids, now here is the thing: Easter Bunny is not real. Can you imagine a giant bunny bouncing around in our backyard, and on rainy days, inside our house, hiding candies?  What?  Are you more stupid than I think?  Can you not imagine how gross that would be, a giant bunny?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now they can see it with their own eyes. Awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2906126021993248319?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2906126021993248319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2906126021993248319' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2906126021993248319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2906126021993248319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/is-this-what-easter-bunny-looks-like.html' title='Is this what Easter Bunny looks like?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SnnQyJleJII/AAAAAAAAAPc/BgE81TJbSeI/s72-c/41751401.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7062882832450667094</id><published>2009-07-25T22:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T23:11:44.796-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>Do you feel guilty buying name brand products instead of the cheaper, generic, ones?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, I do.  Especially after watching the Rosanne episode of Home-Ec where she gave Darlene's home-ec class a field trip to the grocery store&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;, I've always felt quite guilty reaching for the NAME BRAND product instead of the generic, store-brand next to it, the one that is shouting loudly from its display:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;COMPARE TO NAME BRAND NEXT TO ME HERE, practically the same stuff and at 50% of the cost!  Only a sucker and a snob will pick him over me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching for the name brand would BRAND myself as a snob, an irrational person easily duped by flashy marketing, a bourgeois with too much money to spare...  So what if the generic brand would ONLY save me a dollar?  A penny saved is a penny, how does that saying go again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zh6JXRVLeeI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zh6JXRVLeeI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Watch from 4:20)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something happened recently that absolved me from the guilt associated with the Rosanne Home-ec guilt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my last post I made fun of the confusing instructions that came with the Walgreen ant baits. Turned out that the instructions were not the only one that did not work... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The Walgreen generic ant bait cost $0.50 less than the name brand, RAID. I dutifully purchased the generic brand, esp. at this economy, I wanted to show that I was not a frivolous consumer. Well, guess what?  It does not work!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The idea of an ant bait is that it is supposed to attract the ants to go inside the thingy. That is the most important step.  In fact, that is the first step, and the ONLY step an ant bait is supposed to accomplish.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;After I put on the black housing on the floor, I watched the ants walk around it.  Yup.  They WALKED AROUND the darn thing!  I tried to nudge them with chopsticks in that direction. They kept on during around, or, walked OVER the housing. They had no interest getting into the hole. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I finally gave up and got the ones made by RAID. And they worked like a charm. Or at least, they worked the way ant baits were supposed to work: the ants swarmed the new baits I put down on the floor, while ignoring the old ones.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hallelujah! Tide laundry detergent, I am getting you next time I am at Costco!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7062882832450667094?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7062882832450667094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7062882832450667094' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7062882832450667094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7062882832450667094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/do-you-feel-guilty-buying-name-brand.html' title='Do you feel guilty buying name brand products instead of the cheaper, generic, ones?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7578205905036156168</id><published>2009-06-28T20:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T20:57:08.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It would have been fine if there were NO instruction...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SkgfQcH8mKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NspEXdOUO2Y/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SkgfQcH8mKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NspEXdOUO2Y/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352562524417726626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am completely confused by this ant bait by Walgreens. It should have been very simple, until I decided to read what the sticker says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This surface is TOP. Bottom should be placed against floor or stuck on wall."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, according to the photo on the package, the bottom is supposed to be the top, and the TOP here, flat surface and therefore why the sticker is conveniently placed there, should be the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started humming this Mother Goose rhyme after I was sufficiently confused and amused to take pictures of the Ant Bait. &lt;em&gt;(I can't believe I took pictures of Ant Bait procured from Walgreens!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the grand old Duke of York,&lt;br /&gt;he had ten thousand men,&lt;br /&gt;he marched them up to the top of the hill,&lt;br /&gt;and he marched them down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they were up, they were up;&lt;br /&gt;and when they were down, they were down;&lt;br /&gt;and when they were only halfway up,&lt;br /&gt;they were neither up nor down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SkgTV1bcgpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/GvRvlrjxuC8/s1600-h/photo-727731.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352549422970208914" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SkgTV1bcgpI/AAAAAAAAAPM/GvRvlrjxuC8/s320/photo-727731.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7578205905036156168?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7578205905036156168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7578205905036156168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7578205905036156168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7578205905036156168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='It would have been fine if there were NO instruction...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SkgfQcH8mKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NspEXdOUO2Y/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4200270997384382003</id><published>2009-06-28T09:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T09:19:21.952-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Small things in life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><title type='text'>Sunday breakfast: somebody loves me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Skd68ALlcJI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VIOGxvBORzE/s1600-h/photo-712560.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Skd68ALlcJI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VIOGxvBORzE/s320/photo-712560.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352381853412454546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Monk surprised me with a nice, healthy breakfast, much healthier than I prepare for them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been trying to mother me lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you driving over the speed limit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you drink so much coffee?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should have brrrkfast every day you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, this is the best one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are you returning those shirts? I bet they look lovely on you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4200270997384382003?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4200270997384382003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4200270997384382003' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4200270997384382003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4200270997384382003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-breakfast-somebody-loves-me.html' title='Sunday breakfast: somebody loves me!'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Skd68ALlcJI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VIOGxvBORzE/s72-c/photo-712560.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1095634588395338093</id><published>2009-06-25T00:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T00:32:40.998-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><title type='text'>"Mommy, is tweeting bad?"</title><content type='html'>Nope. Didn't make this up. This came up in my conversation with my 6 year-old, Mr. Monk, in the car today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Most of our conversations happen in the car now, it seems.  Could Mr. Monk be that smart so as to figure out that when I am driving, I am cornered and hence have to provide some sort of answers to the hard questions he throws at me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, why do you tweet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee. He got the lingo right. Many adults are still struggling with when to use Twitter and when to use Tweet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm. Why SHOULDN'T I Tweet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a complete cop-out. I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is Tweeting bad?"  See?  He got that it's a VERB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. Of course not. Why do you ask?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am just wondering why you do it."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Why did he assume it's bad just because I am doing it?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;".....  Ok. It's just like how you and your brother play on Runescape?  it's just something fun that mommy likes to do.  Mommy enjoys talking to people on Twitter."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suave move, mom. Comparing Twitter to Runescape?!  Let me turn the table on him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, why does it bother you so much that mommy is on Twitter?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know. Because you get to do it all the time, without having to ask. We have to ask you or daddy when we want to play Runescape..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I HAD a regular hobby like sewing or knitting whether he would have been so bothered by it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1095634588395338093?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1095634588395338093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1095634588395338093' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1095634588395338093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1095634588395338093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/mommy-is-tweeting-bad.html' title='&quot;Mommy, is tweeting bad?&quot;'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8898940691418159623</id><published>2009-06-22T11:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T00:11:46.091-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Be yourself'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><title type='text'>Now the Fedora is gone, we are into Berets...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-s5H-loyI/AAAAAAAAAO8/PO9ZsrK5vyQ/s1600-h/photo-712659.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-s5H-loyI/AAAAAAAAAO8/PO9ZsrK5vyQ/s320/photo-712659.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350184979733521186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the longest time my youngest had a &lt;a href="http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2008/11/trend-continues-hat-stays-and-i-am.html" target="_blank"&gt;Fedora&lt;/a&gt;, and he did wear it throughout the last winter despite my initial prediction that it would only last one week.  It was adorable when he tipped his hat to greet the ladies,&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;How&amp;#39;d you do, Ma&amp;#39;am?&amp;quot; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;You are allowed to do all these things when you are only 5 or 6.  Even wearing a beret...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Since we left our fedora behind on our trip to Taiwan, Mr. Monk has been on my case of getting him a replacement.  Recently, he started a campaign of acquiring a beret.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;Mom. I want to be an artist when I grow up. How am I going to be an artist if I don&amp;#39;t have an artist&amp;#39;s hat?&amp;quot;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Finally I capitulated since I did not want to be the mother who stifles her children&amp;#39;s artistic aspirations.  Thank goodness we found one on Amazon.com for $5 that he deemed acceptable.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Now he has been wearing that hat every single day.  At first he also insisted on wearing his black turtleneck, complete with a plastic, colorful, &amp;quot;pipe&amp;quot; that came with the &amp;quot;bubble blowing kit&amp;quot;.  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Like I said, when you are 6, you get to do all these role-playing make-believe things, even in public.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I did finally put my foot down and said NO! to the turtlenecks when it was so hot this weekend that his face was all red from the heat...&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8898940691418159623?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8898940691418159623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8898940691418159623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8898940691418159623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8898940691418159623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/now-fedora-is-gone-we-are-into-berets.html' title='Now the Fedora is gone, we are into Berets...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-s5H-loyI/AAAAAAAAAO8/PO9ZsrK5vyQ/s72-c/photo-712659.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-390953802297156684</id><published>2009-06-22T10:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:51:41.896-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marketing at work'/><title type='text'>VeggieTales: Faith + Clean Sense of Humor sells OR Marketing Lesson  101</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-lUhxvGMI/AAAAAAAAAO0/wox7JAHti0M/s1600-h/IMG00028-774370.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350176654422382786" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-lUhxvGMI/AAAAAAAAAO0/wox7JAHti0M/s320/IMG00028-774370.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ah, &lt;a href="https://bigidea.com/index.aspx"&gt;VeggieTales&lt;/a&gt;. After more than a decade, I am still marveled at their success.  I am sure a lot of people watching their explosive success, have banged their heads against the wall, wailing, "Why didn't I think of that?" Since 2006, the animated veggies (with very expressive eyes and mouths since they have no limbs!) have also been part of the NBC network Saturday Morning Cartoon line-up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now they have expanded to selling seeds in the gardening section.  Amazing!  But if you think about it, this is probably one of the few marketing / branding efforts that actually make sense.  Who better to sell vegetable plant seeds other than Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I am not Christian, I can see the draw of morality tales cloaked in cartoons full of catchy songs and silly jokes for parents who are at a loss in finding a moral compass in this world dominated by mass media. &lt;em&gt;(Wow. That's a long, and probably grammatically incorrect sentence....)  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus it really does help that Larry the Cucumber is completely insane and the champion of non sequitur humors, as can be witnessed in his perennial favorites: Silly Songs with Larry.  The song that always makes me laugh and want to dance is Barbara Manatee... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GPJ1TfQpsQ8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GPJ1TfQpsQ8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-390953802297156684?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/390953802297156684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=390953802297156684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/390953802297156684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/390953802297156684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/veggietales-faith-clean-sense-of-humor.html' title='VeggieTales: Faith + Clean Sense of Humor sells OR Marketing Lesson  101'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sj-lUhxvGMI/AAAAAAAAAO0/wox7JAHti0M/s72-c/IMG00028-774370.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4424896215645591231</id><published>2009-06-19T13:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T00:12:19.736-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='check this out'/><title type='text'>Others collect snow globes or coins. I collect airline barf bags...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjveX9dPZFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/yrUSsUXaLvM/s1600-h/IMG00023-735051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjveX9dPZFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/yrUSsUXaLvM/s320/IMG00023-735051.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349113485648159826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Actually, my collection started as a joke from my husband .  I had asked him to bring souvenirs back for me from abroad.  He decided that a barf bag is just as exotic and representative.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&amp;quot;Honey! I have NO space in my carry-on bag!&amp;quot;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;What&amp;#39;s very exciting is that someone reached out to me who actually DOES collect barf bags, and he is not alone (just do a &lt;a href="http://lmgtfy.com/?q=barf+bag+collection"&gt;google search&lt;/a&gt;: it&amp;#39;s eye-opening!)  He has as of now &lt;a href="http://www.cowchimp.com/"&gt;281 bags&lt;/a&gt; in his collection.  Very impressive.  It does seem that he somehow does not have American Airlines barf bag in his collection.  I think we should try and get him one!&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4424896215645591231?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4424896215645591231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4424896215645591231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4424896215645591231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4424896215645591231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/others-collect-snow-globes-or-coins-i.html' title='Others collect snow globes or coins. I collect airline barf bags...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjveX9dPZFI/AAAAAAAAAOs/yrUSsUXaLvM/s72-c/IMG00023-735051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7317973445581232223</id><published>2009-06-19T01:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:02:13.659-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='one way ticket to hell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><title type='text'>Mother fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mr. Monk (my 6 yo boy) and I got into a fight tonight. The source of it is as always: his need to be close to me whenever we are home.  Especially when it is close to bedtime and he's tired and I am exhausted.  I finally lost my marble today and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lashed out&lt;/span&gt; at him.  Yup. Lashed out.  I am still feeling shame and guilt from it, and am absolutely convinced that I will go to hell for hurting a 6 year old's feeling so deeply... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny, sad, guilt-inducing thing is? He still asked for mommy when it's time he go to bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of crying, sobbing, hiccuping, he said, "I am going to run away tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hell. Is. Waiting. For. Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I apologized for being really mean and we were on our way to reconciliation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please don't run away. I would be very sad and worried if you do. How about the &lt;a href="http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/volcano-of-love-tis-cross-for-me-to.html"&gt;volcano of love&lt;/a&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's shattered." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were his exact words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hell. Is. Waiting. For. Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Oh honey. I am so sorry..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is only one left now.  But I am rebuilding them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I believe that I do not deserve Mr. Monk as he is more mature than I am.  He is an old soul. It awes me and worries me at the same time.  He seems to know how his mind works is different from his peers.  While crying about how he's going to run away from home, he made this statement,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't fit in.  I am different.  I don't fit in anywhere."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than holding him very very tightly, I was utterly lost for words.  Motherhood fail. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7317973445581232223?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7317973445581232223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7317973445581232223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7317973445581232223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7317973445581232223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/mother-fail.html' title='Mother fail'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8857965553290669643</id><published>2009-06-16T15:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T16:06:10.804-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motherhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Go girl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='check this out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality bites'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>In praise of "Fallen Princesses" Photography Project by Dina Goldstein</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.jpgmag.com/photos/645759"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348022429676844354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sjf-EJO1tUI/AAAAAAAAAOk/JmpP_CDa-z0/s400/645759_13649_72c2b1c3f0_p.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Courtesy: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shar.es/ry90"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;JPG Magazine: Snowy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am absolutely in amour with this picture and actually, all the pictures by photographer, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jpgmag.com/people/honey/photos"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dina Goldstein&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;. She is currently working on a project, sort of like an alternative story telling, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jpgmag.com/stories/11918"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fallen Princesses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;." In her own words:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;"These works place Fairy Tale characters in modern day scenarios. In all of the images the Princess is placed in an environment that articulates her conflict. The '...happily ever after' is replaced with a realistic outcome and addresses current issues."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;"I began to imagine Disney's perfect Princesses juxtaposed with real issues that were affecting women around me, such as illness, addiction and self-image issues."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;This is one of the best examples for:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Motherhood does not make you stupid. It makes you THINK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br&gt;p.s. I found this picture via &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/god"&gt;&lt;em&gt;@god&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;, thank goodness he has a great sense of humor!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br&gt;p.p.s. For a critique on how these pictures do not deliver the expected &lt;/em&gt;Punch, &lt;em&gt;not subversive enough to destablize the stereotypes, please see &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://bitchmagazine.org/post/a-not-so-radical-reinterpretation-of-princesses"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bitch Magazine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br&gt;Cough cough, though I do love &lt;/em&gt;Bitch Magazine's "Feminist Response to Pop Culture"&lt;em&gt; and agree with the perspective here, have to say I haven't found anything subversive enough to do exactly that, i.e. destablize stereotypes substantially long enough to have the destablizing take roots, other than cutting off our own tits... even at that, we would still be labeled as "&lt;/em&gt;Suffering from hysteria&lt;em&gt;". The world will continue to stereotype any group of less power at will because that's how power is gained and maintained.&lt;/em&gt; Ever wonder why stereotypes come in pairs?...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8857965553290669643?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8857965553290669643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8857965553290669643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8857965553290669643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8857965553290669643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/in-praise-of-fallen-princesses.html' title='In praise of &quot;Fallen Princesses&quot; Photography Project by Dina Goldstein'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sjf-EJO1tUI/AAAAAAAAAOk/JmpP_CDa-z0/s72-c/645759_13649_72c2b1c3f0_p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3661551840428278036</id><published>2009-06-16T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T11:00:11.203-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my neurosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving myself nuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt is a bitch'/><title type='text'>The Ability to be Oblivious OR Is there a manual for the multicutural world we envision?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Warning: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The following text contains ruminations on &lt;/span&gt;the color of our skins&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. If you feel uncomfortable discussing skin colors, wish that people would just stop obsessing over skin colors and go on with their lives, or believe that the insistence on talking about the colors of our skin makes the originator of the conversation a racist him/herself, there is nothing much I could do about it. But I thought I'd let you know since you may not want to read the following...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Like most kids, Mr. Monk, my 6 year-old, is fascinated by people that look different from him.  The problem is, even though my children are half and half, Mr. Monk is able to “pass” if I am not around.  His older brother, however, stands out distinctively and has experienced name-calling at school and at extracurricular activities, much to my chagrin and surprise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seriously.  Which century are we in?  &lt;/span&gt;BUT I also believe that my oldest will grow up to be stronger and more compassionate.  It’s funny, or disturbing rather, how my children will grow up differently, shaped by how the outside world view them differently…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Despite my being an annoying PC Police, to my best intentions, I am utterly confused when it comes to educating the very young, especially my own.  Even though I always wince whenever Mr. Monk refers to someone who is apparently not white by the color of their skin, I fear I may have lost my bearings…  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The other day while I was trying to demonstrate to him that we do not  refer to people this way and also to challenge why he does not refer to someone of Euro descent by saying, "The White Lady" for example, I asked him,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"So what color is your skin?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"I am white." He said without even a pause. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Shock.  I did not expect this answer.  Well, when we discussed this before, in the context of Crayola rainbow of colors and how we, thank goodness, no longer refer to the “Peach” color as “Skin”, we had agreed that his was “Tan”… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"Hmm. No. You are not white.  You are only half."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;He started protesting.  "I am white!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Ok. So what do you think mommy is?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“You are white too!”  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(I am very obviously not and we both know it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Now here came a moment when part of me thought, “I really should drop this.  Maybe I should go back to school, take more child psychology and postcolonial theory classes, before we continue this discussion…”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Yet the other part of me insisted, “No. We have to discuss this especially when they are young and malleable and forming their self-identities.”  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sometimes I think that if I were my mother I would hate me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Ok.  Could you please tell mommy why you think you are white?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Because we learned in school there were slaves…” he stopped abruptly and would not go on.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Silence.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Mommy.  Are there still slaves in the world?”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Oh, gee.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What is going on in that tiny head of his?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;In the midst of trying to explain to him that in some parts of the world, yes, (WHY do I have to be so brutally honest with my children, I do not know.  Damn liberals I guess…) but&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; not&lt;/span&gt; in this country, Oh, god no, he does not have to worry about ever being enslaved, we dropped the discussion on the color of his skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Here is what I wish I had sometimes, with guilt of course, for myself and for my children:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;The ability to be oblivious.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3661551840428278036?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3661551840428278036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3661551840428278036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3661551840428278036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3661551840428278036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/ability-to-be-oblivious-or-is-there.html' title='The Ability to be Oblivious OR Is there a manual for the multicutural world we envision?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7944870182067285903</id><published>2009-06-13T01:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T19:51:09.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing cures narcissistic self-pity better than a rabid case of road  rage OR how I found reality</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjNNVGd460I/AAAAAAAAAOc/ivlpd7WT0yE/s1600-h/IMG00015-716289.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346702207527480130" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjNNVGd460I/AAAAAAAAAOc/ivlpd7WT0yE/s320/IMG00015-716289.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After Starbucks, which seemed to be closing since even the cops outside were leaving, I continued to wander in the night. Blasting Sarah Betten's Scream, I mindless drove first on 53 N, which turned out to be a stupid move since it goes nowhere and ended even before the end of the album. &lt;p&gt;I turned around and moved onto 90 E, downtown Chicago here I come! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sarah started singing &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I used to know how to change the world&lt;br /&gt;I lie awake at night and envy that girl. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This got me going. For the first time on this fucking crazy shitty day tears came. Flood gate. Cliche always true. I sobbed uncontrollably. Fuck fucking fuck. I am not going to be anybody ever am I ? I will never be truly happy will I ? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All of a sudden, traffic stopped. What the fuck? It is 12:30 AM!? And I was sandwiched between giant trailertrucks. In one second, road rage took over the sobbing ruminating mess. Proustian stream of consciousness self-narration is not a match for &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Get out of my way you fucking brute&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I passed by the truck who cut in front of me right before the lane ended. I got in front of him just in time being THIS close to the orange cones because I drive a tiny car. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yeah! Reality! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I did drive all the way downtown, enjoyed the moment when you get to the end of Ohio facing Sears Tower. I always love that 5 second stretch. Then I turned the other direction. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thank goodness for highway oasis. 24/7. Otherwise wayward mothers like myself would have nowhere to go... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could in theory check in a hotel. But I would cross some sort of line, wouldn't I? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wandering in the night I am just the insane me... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7944870182067285903?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7944870182067285903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7944870182067285903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7944870182067285903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7944870182067285903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/nothing-cures-narcisistic-self-pity.html' title='Nothing cures narcissistic self-pity better than a rabid case of road  rage OR how I found reality'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjNNVGd460I/AAAAAAAAAOc/ivlpd7WT0yE/s72-c/IMG00015-716289.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4470083669463890938</id><published>2009-06-12T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T17:05:23.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How I got a girl night out OR I walked out of the house Part III</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjMe8ZODDhI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dTcNJxjM-CQ/s1600-h/IMG00014-741765.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346651205529701906" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjMe8ZODDhI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dTcNJxjM-CQ/s320/IMG00014-741765.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;"You are an asshole." I yelled into the phone before I hung up. Because nothing gives me more pleasure and later more regret by having the last word, NOW! &lt;p&gt;When I got home with CHILD, husb was sitting in the comfy chair reading a comic book. Looking very relaxed. Which irks me more than anything since I can't remember the last time I ever relax at home. I am such a bitch. &lt;p&gt;I looked over, he was giving me a finger! &lt;p&gt;"What is your problem?" &lt;p&gt;CHILD looked in his direction, he smiled and said, "Hey! Nothing." &lt;p&gt;Then said, "Maybe you should leave now. Don't come home. Since you don't want to be home." &lt;p&gt;After ignoring him and giving CHILD a banana, I thought to myself, &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Hey, he's offering to watch CHILD!!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;p&gt;So I grabbed my semi packed bag (I travel for work quite often) and a change of clothes, all the while thinking, &lt;p&gt;"Ok. I am going to do this now. What do I bring? Where do I go?" &lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;How does one walk out of one's house? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;How do you walk out on your children? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;p&gt;"A hotel? I can Hotwire it maybe?" &lt;p&gt;I remembered that I have some free tickets from when I got bumped. &lt;p&gt;"New York?" &lt;p&gt;I remembered that I have NO family in this frigging country. &lt;p&gt;All these happened fast in less than 5 minutes. &lt;p&gt;While I was rummaging for the tickets, I found some discount gift cards for Aveda from Costco. Maybe I'll go get a facial?! &lt;p&gt;In denial. &lt;p&gt;Big time. Since before I left aveda, I made an appointment for a massage next Friday for husb for Father's Day. &lt;p&gt;God. I am completely insane and unstable... &lt;p&gt;This is how I got a GIRL night out, notice there is no S... &lt;p&gt;Tis 10:30 pm. Starbucks open past midnight because this one is where the cool people hang out... Maybe I will go catch a movie or two... &lt;p&gt;Parents behaving badly. Parenthood never guarantees maturity, does it? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4470083669463890938?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4470083669463890938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4470083669463890938' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4470083669463890938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4470083669463890938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-i-got-girl-night-out-or-i-walked_9365.html' title='How I got a girl night out OR I walked out of the house Part III'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SjMe8ZODDhI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dTcNJxjM-CQ/s72-c/IMG00014-741765.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1089697014784576598</id><published>2009-06-12T22:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T19:17:00.412-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How I got a girl night out OR I walked out of the house Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a title="The Culprit" href="http://twitpic.com/77mry"&gt;&lt;img alt="Went to lunch and this guy followed me back to the office... LOL on Twitpic" src="http://twitpic.com/show/thumb/77mry.jpg" width="150" height="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Culprit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1089697014784576598?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1089697014784576598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1089697014784576598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1089697014784576598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1089697014784576598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-i-got-girl-night-out-or-i-walked_12.html' title='How I got a girl night out OR I walked out of the house Part II'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7570059936849475982</id><published>2009-06-12T21:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T17:07:37.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How I got a girl night out, OR I walked out of the house Part I</title><content type='html'>First of all, I am typing this out on my iPhone which does not have a SIM inside a Starbucks. A hip &amp;amp; happening one, not like the one at my train station. &lt;p&gt;What is up with people being young and cool and happy and beautiful and hanging out and happy and talking and laughing and no children in sight and happy...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, I seem to be the only person here alone and typing on my iPhone AND Blackberry. Trying to compose a blog entry. Struggling with tiny letters and resulting typos. Wishing I had a book with me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So it all started from La Bamba downtown which has the burritos as big as your head. It's true: it's their tag line. I went there for lunch today. This was a restaurant that my husband and I loved when we were still at school. There was one on campus. We didn't know it's a&lt;br /&gt;chain... Till recently. So I went to the La Bamba downtown for lunch and was very excited. They have their 20 year anniversary bobblehead "doll" for sale. Ok, it's not a doll. It's the Burrito Man. I thought, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Wow. That would be cool for Father's Day!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My co-worker who usually thinks I am a crazy ass spaz actually agreed this time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I would think it's cool shit if someone gives me that for Father's Day!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As Murphy's Law would have it, because I had set up my mind to give it to husb tonight, can't wait for another week, I forgot it as I was rushing for the train home. I made the split second decision to go back to the office to get Burrito Man and take a later train...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I finally got off the train and got to my car, it's already 6:15, and daycare closes at 6:30. I called husb just in case he had got the boy. I know a phone call from me that close to "deadline" is going to put him on alert and defense, so I softened my approach,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hi, I was just calling IN CASE you have got CHILD..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"No." Brusquely. "You are supposed to get him." and then,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"B-y-e." like he couldn't be bothered with.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My temper flared, after my softened approach backfired. Before I hung up, "You are an asshole!" I yelled into the phone...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7570059936849475982?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7570059936849475982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7570059936849475982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7570059936849475982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7570059936849475982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-i-got-girl-night-out-or-i-walked.html' title='How I got a girl night out, OR I walked out of the house Part I'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5472806938292679315</id><published>2009-06-12T10:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T10:39:15.748-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><title type='text'>How do we learn Hip Lingo if we don't watch TV, OR What you don't know won't hurt you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6 yo offered to make me a "pocket" with paper. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Is it ok if I use pink paper for you?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Pink will be great! If you use pink it would be&lt;strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;HUGE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!" Channeling my inner Paris Hilton for a second over there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Puzzled look. "What do you mean it will be &lt;em&gt;Huge?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Uh. I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;meant it would be &lt;em&gt;awesome..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Relieved look. "Oh. Great. I thought you meant the pocket would become &lt;em&gt;Really Big &lt;/em&gt;if I use pink..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bonus Round: &lt;strong&gt;My son, the Statistician...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Mom, I think you will be the first in the family to die."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Because you are the oldest.  So there will be a 100% chance you will be the first to die, and 90% chance for daddy to be the first to die, and 0% chance for me to be the first to die." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bonus Round II: &lt;strong&gt;Learning human anatomy...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Overheard 6 year-old to 11 year-old: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Do you know your wiener is not your guts?  Your guts are here" (pointing to his tummy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5472806938292679315?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5472806938292679315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5472806938292679315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5472806938292679315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5472806938292679315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-do-we-learn-hip-lingo-if-we-dont.html' title='How do we learn Hip Lingo if we don&apos;t watch TV, OR What you don&apos;t know won&apos;t hurt you'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5799490517415549635</id><published>2009-06-11T12:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T12:35:27.033-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving myself nuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no heaven for me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My 5th grader'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt is a bitch'/><title type='text'>Are we really at odds with each other?</title><content type='html'>This is an age-old debate and for sure I am opening an ancient can of worms. And for some, this is probably opening up some disappearing scabs from long-since-forgotten battle wounds as well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't know why something this trivial bothers me. It leaves my working-mother-core shaking. It makes me question myself whether my being a working mother is truly ruining my children's childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guilt is a bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when my 11 yo was invited to a friend's house for a "playdate".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(They are probably too old to have something called "Playdate"... For lack of a universally understandable term to describe an event when a child goes to another child's house, usually against the latter child's mother's quiet wish while granting the mother of the former child, if she otherwise stays home with the child, some much needed respite, I will use this term for now).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... and the earliest train I can take does not allow me to be there in time to pick him up at the said end of playdate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with being a working mom with regarding to playdates is that: it is next to impossible for me to reciprocate. And I do feel guilty about it. I do. And I let the mothers who are kind enough to invite my non-reciprocating child to their houses know how much I appreciate it, and how guilty I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know that I work, DOWNTOWN. My kids go to a childcare facility. I am sorry. I cannot come home during lunch hour to do that. I cannot take off from work just so I can drop off my child at your house to play with your child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did that once already: I took a day off from work once just so I could drive my kid, in less than 5 minutes, from the daycare to your house. I know I should not expect you to offer to pick up my kids from where he is and bring him to your house. You do not owe me that. And I am totally sounding like an ungrateful bitch to some, if there is anyone out there reading this, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I contemplated hiring and PAYING someone to drive that 5-minute stretch so he can have the playdate with your child. I did. Would you be terribly insulted if I asked to pay you? You would, I guess. I know the point is not the money, or how easy it is. The point is "the principle" right? That we working mothers are so used to being granted all these special treatments and considerations. We should not take it for granted. I should not even be writing about this on my blog right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess our children will never have playdates again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a shame. They apparently played quite well together and that's why you invited him back. Thank you. And sorry that we had to cancel the playdate scheduled for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. The irony with this whole crazy shit incident is that I am so shaken with guilt, doubt and undeserved self-righteousness that I may as well go home early. Calling in sick.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5799490517415549635?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5799490517415549635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5799490517415549635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5799490517415549635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5799490517415549635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/are-we-really-at-odds-with-each-other.html' title='Are we really at odds with each other?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6752022824369692233</id><published>2009-06-09T13:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T13:45:30.298-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am speechless'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>My apology to Kathleen Parker. Frank Gaffney is way crazier...</title><content type='html'>Now I feel bad for lambasting Kathleen Parker for hinting at a tenuous relationship between Obama and Osama because of the rhyming last names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(This reminds me: is it now a good time to resurrect the old Internet sensation the &lt;a href="http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/llama"&gt;Llama Song&lt;/a&gt;?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was alerted to an article by Frank Gaffney, "&lt;a href="http://unhub.com/t56a"&gt;America's first Muslim president?"&lt;/a&gt; Turns out Ms. Parker's criticism is quite reasonable compared to Mr. Gaffney's read of Obama's Cairo speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is he for real? It's got to be a parody. Simply too good to be true. But it is. I. Don't. Know. What. To. Say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read it for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6752022824369692233?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6752022824369692233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6752022824369692233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6752022824369692233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6752022824369692233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-apology-to-kathleen-parker-frank.html' title='My apology to Kathleen Parker. Frank Gaffney is way crazier...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2909330951522601180</id><published>2009-06-09T07:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T07:24:52.735-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i am mad'/><title type='text'>Tis a low ball to insinuate anything via someone's family name...</title><content type='html'>Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post Writers Group commented (criticized, no need for euphemism on my own blog) on Obama's latest speech to the Muslim world at the Cairo University on June 4. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted that most of Ms. Parker's columns leave me fuming, I have learned to agree to disagree with her and her fans.  There is no arguing in politics and religions.  That's why when people get together, they watch sports.  (Or so I assume.  We don't watch sports in our house, and therefore we are not popular on our block... Oh, that and the fact I have an Obama sticker on my car...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see her point in "&lt;a href="http://www.postwritersgroup.com/archives/park090607.htm"&gt;Obama's Muslim campaign&lt;/a&gt;": that Obama in his speech to the Muslims quoted too many lines from the Qur'an and criticized the errors in the U.S. history just a tad too much to make audience back at home squirm uncomfortably.   But here is the sentence that really got my attention, not in a positive way:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"To delegitimize the man whose name rhymes with his, Obama had only to show up and not be George W. Bush."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Yes, I tend to obsess over one tree and ignore the forest. I get to do this in my personal life. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am not about to defend W.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I have an issue with is this insinuation of a relation between Obama and Osama, "the man whose name rhymes with his."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on! Give me a break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are guilty by association of family names now?  Great!  Remember during World War II when all the Japanese &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Americans&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;were rounded up and sent to the concentration camps?  (Oh, I am sorry, RELOCATION CAMPS they were called), many non-Japanese Asians in the U.S. hastily proclaimed their non-Japanese-sounding surnames for fear of guilt by association of family names.  So we are going back to that now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my advice for all the non-mainstream citizens in this multicultural only in theory society, name your kid Brandon and Emily, and if you can, change your name to something less foreign sounding.  For the sake of your children, in case they run for important public office one day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the definition of "Foreign" is arguably faulty here.  Basically anything that does not invoke a Western heritage...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2909330951522601180?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2909330951522601180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2909330951522601180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2909330951522601180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2909330951522601180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/tis-low-ball-to-insinuate-anything-via.html' title='Tis a low ball to insinuate anything via someone&apos;s family name...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8602413923936870318</id><published>2009-06-08T14:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T14:51:02.724-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no heaven for me'/><title type='text'>My mommy cooks. My mommy cleans. My mommy loves me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAdpDSqI/AAAAAAAAB8A/Z6wtZHf2sp0/s1600-h/My+mommy+cooks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345045988459629218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAdpDSqI/AAAAAAAAB8A/Z6wtZHf2sp0/s320/My+mommy+cooks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAHozVjI/AAAAAAAAB74/b_tZdYSOmp4/s1600-h/My+mommy+cleans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345045982553003570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAHozVjI/AAAAAAAAB74/b_tZdYSOmp4/s320/My+mommy+cleans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAXLe7VI/AAAAAAAAB8I/7HtvFVzljHY/s1600-h/My+mommy+loves+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345045986724998482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAXLe7VI/AAAAAAAAB8I/7HtvFVzljHY/s320/My+mommy+loves+me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is almost a month since Mother's Day and therefore I figure it is safe to ruminate out loud what I thought when I saw these loving and lovable pictures drew by my 6 year old, with lots of love, without the risk of being accused as mean-spirited, bitter, spoiled, jaded, or worse, unfit-to-be-a-mother…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turned out that my 6 year-old was more excited about Mother's Day than I was. The weeks leading to Mother's Day they had made so many arts and crafts projects at school to celebrate this day, and he was instructed to keep all these projects a secret until THE day so he could surprise me. Bless his heart. I am surprised that he did not burst from all the secrecy, and the trouble of keeping a secret from your mother when you are only 6 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had gone to the store in April when he decided that he needed to get me a Mother's Day present. He was rather upset since he couldn't figure out a way of getting anything without my knowing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He burst into tears when I saw the bag of chocolate he's holding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are not supposed to see this."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? I don't know what you're talking about…"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This! This is your Mother's Day present. Now Mother's Day is ruined! And it is all YOUR fault!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey. How about this? Mommy will pay for it and then you can hide it and I promise I will forget about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it won't work!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me an hour to calm him down, to convince him that yes indeed, I would erase the memory of this exchange from my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he proudly presented me with the book that he made at school, a book comprised of "Things my mommy does, and therefore I love my mommy" vignettes, I was really moved. Really, I was. He was beaming with pride, and naturally, I was beaming with pride too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But later, it did give me pause to think my role as a mother. How I see myself and how I am perceived by my children, others, the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. After 20+ years of education, this is what I am boiled down to: cooking and cleaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My job sucks, at least in my child's eyes. If I were a hod dog vendor, or a street musician, it would probably be easier for him to draw "What my mommy does at work." Truth be told, and in all fairness, he has attempted many times to understand what I do at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So you work on the computer... But what do you MAKE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A conversation with him about my job always results in days of self-doubt in me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Perhaps in all fairness, cleaning and cooking could be what he sees me do all the time. Is it telling that he did not draw "My mommy does the laundry" since our floor is constantly covered with laundered clothes transported straight from the dryer? And bless his heart that he considers grilled cheese and mac&amp;amp;cheese straight from a box cooking. I guess it is true that what you don't know will not hurt you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. On the other hand, what if this is his ideal of a mother? A mom that cooks and cleans, while wearing an apron with a BIG smile on her face. So happy. So content. Perhaps this is a mother that he yearns for and not the harried, reluctant one he's stuck with? Staring at the big smile in these drawings, I somehow feel ashamed. Guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. This is the conclusion I am most reluctant to draw; it took me a whole month to admit to myself: Maybe, just maybe, I am not spending enough quality time with my children. None of the pictures showed me doing things with him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I had made more efforts in doing arts and crafts, if I were more willing in playing Go Fish, if I had offered to go to the zoos, the parks, the playgrounds more often, if I had said, "Let's go fly a kite" out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If.  Perhaps he would have something other than cooking and cleaning to draw with. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8602413923936870318?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8602413923936870318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8602413923936870318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8602413923936870318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8602413923936870318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-mommy-cleans-my-mommy-cooks-my-mommy_08.html' title='My mommy cooks. My mommy cleans. My mommy loves me.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Si1rAdpDSqI/AAAAAAAAB8A/Z6wtZHf2sp0/s72-c/My+mommy+cooks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7898503148565683993</id><published>2009-06-08T14:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T14:09:26.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The best ramen noodle ever. Hands down!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Si1h5ma37WI/AAAAAAAAAM4/rZNQxGo-1mc/s1600-h/photo-766758.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Si1h5ma37WI/AAAAAAAAAM4/rZNQxGo-1mc/s320/photo-766758.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345035974952349026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Even popular in other Asian countries!  That should mean a lot... Find  &lt;br&gt;it @ your friendly neighborhood Korean grocery stores...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7898503148565683993?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7898503148565683993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7898503148565683993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7898503148565683993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7898503148565683993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/best-ramen-noodle-ever-hands-down.html' title='The best ramen noodle ever. Hands down!'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Si1h5ma37WI/AAAAAAAAAM4/rZNQxGo-1mc/s72-c/photo-766758.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3966133687731767813</id><published>2009-06-08T09:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T09:18:25.652-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've never got kicked in the head. Is it me? No. It's you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This morning my youngest was sent to his room for a timeout because he kicked daddy in the head.  Upon further investigation, and actually I witnessed the entire episode, I am not quite sure he deserved the punishment.  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What would a normal healthy human being do when they are being tickled on the feet?&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;They kick.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What would happen if you are the one administer the tickling with your head bent towards the said feet? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your head will be in the path of the kicking feet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;It is simple physics. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;This incident makes me ponder why, compared to my spouse, I am seldom &amp;quot;hurt&amp;quot; by the children.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;It is true I do not roughhouse with the kids.  It&amp;#39;s a daddy thing.  I tend to get the crying, hungry, wounded, tired, cranky, punished kids, whereas my husband gets the happy, tussling ones.  That&amp;#39;s why I tend to get the crying, hungry, wounded, tired, cranky, punished kids.  Tis a vicious cycle. I am seeing a pattern now.  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;It is also true that I realize everybody&amp;#39;s limits and I stop as soon as I see that the kids are being whipped into a frenzy, and if you continue to &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sit on them&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, for instance, their survival instinct would kick in and they would use all the little strength they have to fight back, and you get hurt.  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;AND, let it be known, TICKLING IS BULLYING.  If someone is laughing against their will, then they are NOT having fun.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Yes. I am the FUN KILLER.  But, let it also be known, I have never been kicked in the head by my kids.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3966133687731767813?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3966133687731767813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3966133687731767813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3966133687731767813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3966133687731767813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-never-got-kicked-in-head-is-it-me.html' title='I&apos;ve never got kicked in the head. Is it me? No. It&apos;s you.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-165296987304467206</id><published>2009-06-07T14:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T14:57:08.597-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Santa is real'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><title type='text'>Proof for Santa's existence is everywhere...</title><content type='html'>6 yo is listening to the &lt;a href="http://www.nameyourtune.com/"&gt;Personalized CD&lt;/a&gt; (which guarantees that you can "hear your name more than &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;80&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; times!") that Santa gave him last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With great excitement, he came to me and proclaimed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, do you know how I am so sure now that this CD is from Santa and MADE by Santa himself at the workshop?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. How?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You see the back is glued to the cover with sticky tacks! What kind of stores would use sticky tacks to glue their stuff together?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So crappy quality is actually the evidence for Santa's handmade items.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-165296987304467206?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/165296987304467206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=165296987304467206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/165296987304467206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/165296987304467206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/proof-for-santas-existence-is.html' title='Proof for Santa&apos;s existence is everywhere...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-507859084402439566</id><published>2009-06-07T01:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T02:30:50.267-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving myself nuts'/><title type='text'>A volcano of love... tis the cross for me to bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"My bounty is as boundless as the sea,&lt;br /&gt;My love as deep; the more I give to thee,&lt;br /&gt;The more I have, for both are infinite."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Juliet&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Always thought this is one of the most beautiful descriptions of what it means to really love someone. &lt;em&gt;(By the way, Romeo is an idiot. Juliet clearly is a better poet. But I digress...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When I became a mom, I was surprised by the truth in these words. The love I have for my children is such that it hurts to think of the possibility of ever losing them. And unlike other kinds of feelings, a parent's love does not depend on reciprocity. We will always love our children no matter what.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But that love does not prevent us from getting impatient, annoyed. It does not stop me from becoming a mean witch from time to time to the boys. Stealthily self doubt creeps up sometimes: I wonder whether I do truly love my kids selflessly and unconditionally, whether I am fit to be a mother, after a particularly difficult day of dealing with bickering, whining, willfulness, obstinacy, and flaring up of the mild case of OCD, with too little time. My exhaustion more often than not stems from my youngest's refusal to let my husband take care of him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mommy is the only person he always wants. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mommy is the person he loves the most, no matter what. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In this regard, I feel extremely guilty and am deeply saddened since there are more than one person for me to make the same claim of. Juliet's words aside, I lack the time to show the love equally to each. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On those days, when I put him to bed, I would hold my 6 year-old tighter and ask him to forgive mommy's temper earlier. And Mr. Monk, my 6 year-old, who has a way with words, would say something that at the same time shames me and absolves me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"I just want you to know that mommy loves you." &lt;em&gt;(even when she was behaving like a banshee...) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's ok mommy. I just want to show each parent a volcano of love." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Laughing out loud, I held him even tighter, trying hard to stifle the cry that's surfacing from my chest. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sometimes I believe that he loves me more than I love him. And it worries me so....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. Yes yes I know. Wait a couple more years and then he would not want to have anything to do with mommy any more... I will write a new post then&lt;/em&gt;....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-507859084402439566?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/507859084402439566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=507859084402439566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/507859084402439566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/507859084402439566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/volcano-of-love-tis-cross-for-me-to.html' title='A volcano of love... tis the cross for me to bear'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5622475313943931354</id><published>2009-05-31T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T11:12:00.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What have I done to my children? My pet germ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SiKsUFan05I/AAAAAAAAAMw/KBiEx8o13zE/s1600-h/photo-720754.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SiKsUFan05I/AAAAAAAAAMw/KBiEx8o13zE/s320/photo-720754.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342021569066029970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;6yo was slaving over a project this morning, and he proudly showed it  &lt;br&gt;to me...&lt;p&gt;It made me laugh. And then pause. And then laugh some more.&lt;p&gt;He even named his pet &amp;quot;No. 17&amp;quot;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5622475313943931354?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5622475313943931354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5622475313943931354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5622475313943931354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5622475313943931354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-have-i-done-to-my-children-my-pet.html' title='What have I done to my children? My pet germ...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SiKsUFan05I/AAAAAAAAAMw/KBiEx8o13zE/s72-c/photo-720754.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6404137257727053621</id><published>2009-05-30T10:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T10:55:37.030-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>"You people!" is symptomatic of something that none of us want to admit...</title><content type='html'>(I promise. This is going to be the final rant from me. There is a bit OCD in my personality, and sometimes things just bother me and I cannot let go. Most of the time these are "trivial" by most people's measure. But are they REALLY trivial? Perhaps they are only trivial because you are not affected by it?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I have been thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter where you are in the world, the advantage of being one of the majority, the mainstream, the dominant society, is that you have the freedom to just be you. No REPRESENT! No speaking for your race, nationality, gender, etc. No "Tell us something about your culture" as if by the nature of being who you are, you automatically are well-versed in the history/culture/geography of where you are supposed to come from. And nobody will ever ever say to you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You people..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&amp;videoid=40257376"&gt;Tropic Thunder clip - "You People"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;object width="425px" height="360px" &gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"/&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"/&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=40257376,t=1,mt=video"/&gt;&lt;embed src="http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=40257376,t=1,mt=video" width="425" height="360" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6404137257727053621?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6404137257727053621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6404137257727053621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6404137257727053621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6404137257727053621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-people-is-symptomatic-of-something.html' title='&quot;You people!&quot; is symptomatic of something that none of us want to admit...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7756162660039945855</id><published>2009-05-30T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T10:43:27.187-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hulu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='SNL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Wonder what Newt would say about this classic Eddie Murphy SNL skit "White Like Me"?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="512" height="296"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/embed/pHudtlffrTOOdU5Iz87YEg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/embed/pHudtlffrTOOdU5Iz87YEg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true"  width="512" height="296"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7756162660039945855?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7756162660039945855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7756162660039945855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7756162660039945855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7756162660039945855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/wonder-what-newt-would-say-about-this.html' title='Wonder what Newt would say about this classic Eddie Murphy SNL skit &quot;White Like Me&quot;?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3245101733292174985</id><published>2009-05-29T09:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T15:25:32.537-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a fan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i am mad'/><title type='text'>"No, Newt, You're the Racist" Thank goodness someone more elequont wrote this rebuttal...</title><content type='html'>to the charge by some Republicans against the Supreme Court Nominee, Sonia Sotomayor, as being a racist against the white people, and specifically, white male people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first saw this charge when I was waiting to board the plane. (You know the CNN scrolling texts on the bottom that drive everybody crazy but, I have to admit it, was pretty useful when there was NO sound on!) I could NOT believe my eyes. But I was not surprised either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my head I was formulating all these rebuttals, clever comebacks, theories, arguments against charges of any type of Reverse Racism. The best I could come up with was: &lt;strong&gt;It is like the Royal Families complain about being prejudiced against because people are jealous of the privileges they enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? Give me a break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness for Vanity Fair. Here is again another article that I LOVE so much that I want to print it out and eat it whole. I really should be working since I am buried by projects that are all due YESTERDAY. But I need to get this off my chest before I explode into a pile of, YES, non-white, mess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/online/politics/2009/05/no-newt-youre-the-racist.html"&gt;No, Newt, You're the Racist&lt;/a&gt; by Michael Hogan (May 27, 2009)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Hogan, I assume who is white and male &lt;em&gt;(NOT that there is anything wrong with that&lt;/em&gt;...), managed to deliver a rebuttal against this utter nonsense in an even-handed, non-didactic, non-preachy way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Digression: I also appreciate much the fact his article does not invoke &lt;em&gt;White Guilt &lt;/em&gt;either, for nothing is more annoying to me than condescension and patronization born out of &lt;em&gt;White Guilt&lt;/em&gt;. No, thank you very much, we have managed along quite well. We do not need to be rescued by a knight in shiny armor. Give me outright Racism any day ( Disclaimer: obviously, I understand VIOLENCE committed on the basis of racism is no joke. Here I am referring to TALKS. DISCOURSES.) When it is veiled in &lt;em&gt;White Guilt&lt;/em&gt;, I am at a loss as to how to react to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the best quote from the article is as follows, although I do hope you read the entire thing if you have stayed with my rant so far...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The reason so few sensible people take [any charge of reverse racism] seriously is that there is no effective anti-white discrimination in America or, for that matter, the world. Being white is almost universally easier than being any other color, just as being male is almost universally easier than being female. (If you’re white, male, and still angry, the problem is you.)"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicely done. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you happen to be white (in appearances) and you cannot see the implied privileges that come with your skin color, here is a great article/exercise that may resonate with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amptoons.com/blog/files/mcintosh.html"&gt;"White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack"&lt;/a&gt; by Peggy McIntosh in 1990. Yes, it is decades old. But hey, some things never change... or at least, not much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. Once again, the comments steal the show and become the proof for the importance of writing the article being commented on in the first place. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Hogan, poor guy, he's being pummeled and maligned in the comment section. It is rather scary and disturbing what was said in those comments. I wish I hadn't read them because now I am officially pissed. And scared at the same time. And disturbed. And dispirited.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3245101733292174985?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3245101733292174985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3245101733292174985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3245101733292174985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3245101733292174985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-newt-youre-racist-thank-goodness.html' title='&quot;No, Newt, You&apos;re the Racist&quot; Thank goodness someone more elequont wrote this rebuttal...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5194724418442454101</id><published>2009-05-27T16:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T16:46:26.216-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chicago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photos'/><title type='text'>Bring your swimming trunks when you visit the Crown Fountain in Chicago...</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&amp;amp;captions=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feat=flashalbum&amp;amp;RGB=0x000000&amp;amp;feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fsubmomrosie%2Falbumid%2F5340619018287224241%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" width="400" height="267"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;This is one place that we keep on going back in downtown Chicago, the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crown_Fountain"&gt;Crown Fountain&lt;/a&gt; at the &lt;a href="http://www.millenniumpark.org/artandarchitecture/crown_fountain.html"&gt;Chicago Millennium Park&lt;/a&gt;, lovingly nicknamed the Face Fountain.  Public art pieces based on water features are known to draw people together, inviting people to participate in shared activities and to create an ad-hoc community. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what the artist&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;Jaume Plensa, said about this piece: &lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fountain is the memory of nature, this marvelous sound of a little river in the mountains translated to the city.  For me, a fountain doesn't mean a big jet of water.  It means humidity, the origin of life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And anybody that has been around this gathering place when the weather is warm enough knows what it means: children splashing in the water, laughing, chasing each other. Adults fascinated by everything that's going on around them.  The surprise and delight in the faces when the water jet shoots out of the mouth of the "face".  And the best part is the screaming children under the catch-you-off-guard waterfall coming from the top with no warning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure delight.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5194724418442454101?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5194724418442454101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5194724418442454101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5194724418442454101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5194724418442454101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/bring-your-swimming-trunks-when-you.html' title='Bring your swimming trunks when you visit the Crown Fountain in Chicago...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-9206606977894439882</id><published>2009-05-23T19:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T01:43:53.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What do tennis balls have to do with soft drinks?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiQ62lJ0sI/AAAAAAAAAJE/XG-u7jiYtKI/s1600-h/052309_17371-747143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339176699005883074" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiQ62lJ0sI/AAAAAAAAAJE/XG-u7jiYtKI/s320/052309_17371-747143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, please let me know if you do know. Because I don't! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. I missed the word "table" in the title of this post...  Sorry if you read this post because you'd rather learn about tennis balls &amp;amp; soda BUT not table tennis balls (aka ping pong balls) &amp;amp; soda... (added May 27, 2009)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-9206606977894439882?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9206606977894439882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=9206606977894439882' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9206606977894439882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9206606977894439882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-do-tennis-balls-have-to-do-with.html' title='What do tennis balls have to do with soft drinks?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiQ62lJ0sI/AAAAAAAAAJE/XG-u7jiYtKI/s72-c/052309_17371-747143.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2074884830016065933</id><published>2009-05-23T18:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T19:00:18.025-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Bull milk shake? Just seems wrong...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiOEqLYjQI/AAAAAAAAAI8/0V-pyN6-5VQ/s1600-h/photo-718026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiOEqLYjQI/AAAAAAAAAI8/0V-pyN6-5VQ/s320/photo-718026.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339173568940379394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2074884830016065933?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2074884830016065933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2074884830016065933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2074884830016065933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2074884830016065933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/red-bull-milk-shake-just-seems-wrong.html' title='Red Bull milk shake? Just seems wrong...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiOEqLYjQI/AAAAAAAAAI8/0V-pyN6-5VQ/s72-c/photo-718026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4035191477610877801</id><published>2009-05-23T18:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T18:41:19.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They say money can't buy happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiJnwId0GI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tFK4lLnHVjI/s1600-h/photo-779486.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiJnwId0GI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tFK4lLnHVjI/s320/photo-779486.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339168674276036706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Well, money makes me smile here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4035191477610877801?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4035191477610877801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4035191477610877801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4035191477610877801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4035191477610877801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/they-say-money-cant-buy-happiness.html' title='They say money can&apos;t buy happiness'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShiJnwId0GI/AAAAAAAAAI0/tFK4lLnHVjI/s72-c/photo-779486.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5007723733787609055</id><published>2009-05-23T10:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T02:14:24.558-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My 5th grader'/><title type='text'>I GTalked my kid to ask him what he would like for breakfast today...</title><content type='html'>As over-thinking, ironically introspective, neurotic, obsessively over-analytical as I am, this incident strikes me as seminal. SEMINAL. Mark it on the calendar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have all seen those cartoons, parodying the increasing importance of texting in the life of teens and even preteens, showing kids texting each other while sitting next to each other on the sofa, or kids and parents texting each other while in the car, or family members texting each other while around the table, TXT "Could you pass the salt please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all laugh. Then we tsk tsk and exclaim, "What the world has come to?", while simultaneously congratulating ourselves for not being like the characters as depicted in the cartoons.  And then we worry that it may become a reality. It is in some way part of reality, we begrudgingly admit to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened on a Saturday morning towards the end of a school year, the rare time when we did not have any place to rush to and my son was playing the ever popular Runescape on the computer in my study.  Normally, it requires a lot of yelling back and forth, impatience, frustration, foot-stomping, indignation, accusations of ingratitude and false accusations for breakfast to be served.  Since I had my laptop working in the kitchen, I thought, "Hey, why not Gtalk him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "What do you want for breakfast?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "What the..."  "Mom, is that you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "LOL. What do u want for bf?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "Pancake pls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It soon evolved into a Q&amp;amp;A session where the 11 yo asked me some words he'd learned from his fellow game-players but instinctively knew were "bad words" that he should not use.  First right up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "What does Jizz mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, Jesus.  Why can't his father be doing this?  "You don't want to know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping. "It is close to jazz."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Believe me. It is not."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ping.  "tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine.  "Have you learned reproductive organs in your health education yet?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. But 6th graders did.  We didn't go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained that he would learn about it when he has sex education in the 6th grade.  Upon that, he said, "Yikes!" in &lt;em&gt;spoken language&lt;/em&gt; which I could hear from the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For good measure, I emphasized that it is NOT a shortened form for when you want to say "Jesus!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we moved onto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, what does f-g mean?" "It is banned from this other site." "People would say this to me whenever I kill [their characters]."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the usage originated from The World of Warcraft, I believe.  "You know the word 'gay' and how we agreed that we would not use it to make fun of people?" "There's this word that is even worse than 'gay'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh. I know that word."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me. Thinking. "How the hack does he know? Where did he hear it? And who the F called my kid that word?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow it does not seem as lecture-y through Gtalk to make him promise he would not use this word.  No matter how common an expression it has become in this game or anywhere else. It is a principle thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I can only hope that he keeps his promise when I am not around, which will happen more and more often now that he's 11 going on 30, I am glad that we had this chance to talk.  So, so what it is through Gtalk?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5007723733787609055?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5007723733787609055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5007723733787609055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5007723733787609055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5007723733787609055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-gtalked-my-kid-to-ask-him-what-he.html' title='I GTalked my kid to ask him what he would like for breakfast today...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2187518789006408910</id><published>2009-05-22T01:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T01:56:28.496-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multiculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><title type='text'>We are like The Simpsons. Yellow like The Simpsons.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShZKRZNtrTI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AqspUVtJ1b8/s1600-h/photo-789545.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338536070980939058" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShZKRZNtrTI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AqspUVtJ1b8/s320/photo-789545.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My 6 yo drew this picture of us today. This would be one of the 86,337 pictures drawn from the teacher asking "Please draw a picture of your family" before he graduates from high school. Surprised at his choice of color. But thank goodness that they no longer call the pale pinkish color "Skin". That's probably why he decided to go with a color that was most likely the closest to human complexion in the meagerly selection of crayons he has left - it is after all towards the end of the school year. I am surprised that we are not blue in the picture...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they were younger, I pondered whether to be absolutely PC-crazy and shell out for a box of those fancy "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lakeshorelearning.com/seo/ca%7CproductSubCat~~p%7C2534374302096045~~f%7C/Assortments/Lakeshore/ShopByCategory/artscrafts/crayonscoloredpencils.jsp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;People Colors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;" crayons from Lakeshore Learning Stores. I eventually decided against it. What are they gonna do with those crayons? Take them next to the person they are drawing to match the color? Like at a cosmetic counter when you are buying foundations? Or like paint chips you brought home from Home Depot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Children are amazingly observant and they are not afraid of asking questions.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; This is what I have learned from my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess tis a sign that Multiculturalism has become a big selling point when Crayola started selling something called "Multicultural Crayons". Kudos to them for trying. Something is a bit off however ... I cannot help but wonder at the colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShZKRqrRaAI/AAAAAAAAAIs/O5KyCTezPdI/s1600-h/crayola-790337.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338536075668318210" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShZKRqrRaAI/AAAAAAAAAIs/O5KyCTezPdI/s320/crayola-790337.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Orange orange and red red? I think I will stick with yellow any time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note to Self: Buy ice cream for kid tomorrow. I look thin in the picture. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2187518789006408910?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2187518789006408910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2187518789006408910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2187518789006408910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2187518789006408910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-are-like-simpsons-yellow-like.html' title='We are like The Simpsons. Yellow like The Simpsons.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ShZKRZNtrTI/AAAAAAAAAIk/AqspUVtJ1b8/s72-c/photo-789545.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3250053027265127027</id><published>2009-05-13T09:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T14:36:09.953-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my neurosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no heaven for me'/><title type='text'>My Mother’s Day Phobia</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It is the Wednesday after Mother's Day and therefore I figure it is safe to reflect upon the impact of Mother's Day on me personally, without the risk of being accused as mean-spirited, bitter, spoiled, jaded, or worse, unfit-to-be-a-mother…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Although I have always been moved by the origin of Mother's Day, an internationally recognized and celebrated holiday nonetheless (&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;unlike Father's Day…),&lt;/i&gt; I really do hate Mother's Day, if I may be allowed to be facetious.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;For myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I do sincerely celebrate Mother's Day for all the mothers out there who so rightfully deserve well wishes on their special day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The Collective Mother.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The concept of motherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;I appreciate the opportunity to wish all the mothers happiness, a day of relaxation, of recognition.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I appreciate the fact that my mother-in-law is probably one of the best mothers-in-law out there and I am blessed in this regard.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I appreciate the reminder that I owe my own mother thousands of apologies for all the pains I have caused her, and that maybe for once I can talk to her on the phone without hanging up in a hurry because someone in my house screams as if his leg is being sawed off, or in a huff because my mother says something that does not jive well with my pseudo-feminist sensibility…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"What are you going to do with the kids when you travel for business?"&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Hmmm, they have a father too?"&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Click.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;I hate all the commercials that unfairly raise my expectations of what my husband and children would do to "honor me" on Mother's Day.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I hate my own passive aggressiveness:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;"What do you want for Mother's Day?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What do you want to do for Mother's Day?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;"Whatever.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I don't care."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;I hate my husband's taking my reply literally after so many years of marriage.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Come on, man, you know the passive aggressive bitch that I am.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;DO SOMETHING.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate despite all my jokes of "lowered expectations", I cannot help but have that smidgen of hope, that maybe this year, something would be done.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A surprise would be planned. The secret conversations.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The furtive exchange of looks.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The stifled laughter as they worked on a conspiracy.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And I would pretend not to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;Like I said, I hate all those commercials that plant unrealistic expectations even when I try to be rational about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I once read that, statistically, more people committed suicide on their birthdays than any other day of the year.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;(Or did a college friend of mine tell me that?&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After he phoned to check on me, to make sure that I didn't do anything stupid.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was full of angst in my youth.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Hermann Hesse. My husband would not agree on Demian as the name for our firstborn.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Lucky kid…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The same agitation I feel on Mother's Days.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I wish I could just forget about it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;DON'T PANIC.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3250053027265127027?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3250053027265127027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3250053027265127027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3250053027265127027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3250053027265127027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-mothers-day-phobia.html' title='My Mother’s Day Phobia'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6429669765751063724</id><published>2009-05-09T08:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T09:23:36.293-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>The "What the __?!" epidemic</title><content type='html'>I am no Miss Manners, let me just come out and say that.  &lt;em&gt;(Although writing Thankyou notes is one of the very few rules I am forcing my kids to follow).&lt;/em&gt;  I have a potty mouth when the kids are not around, or at least, when I think they cannot hear me (&lt;em&gt;which by the way often backfires...  So yes, Bad Mommy.  *Slap hand*)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do say "What the...?!" a lot indeed when we are driving.  Every time someone cuts in front of me, I mutter "What the?!" under my breath.  So it is definitely my own fault then.  Lately though I have been noticing the increasing popularity of kids saying, &lt;strong&gt;"WHAT THE?!"&lt;/strong&gt; Even the very little ones.  My own 6 year-old and I have overheard even younger ones mouthing their surprise, discontent, disappointment with this now ubiquitous all-purpose expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it without reservation.  No hand "quotation marks" around the words when they shout it out.  No whispering.  It has become part of the conversation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, kids, come see what I brought home for dessert?"&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT THE?! Oh, thank you! I love it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is the room such a mess?  Didn't I just ask you to clean it up?"&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT THE?! I already did it but [the other one] messed it up again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WAHHHHH!"&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT THE?! oh, ha ha.  You scared me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE?!  Mom! My new DSi froze again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the?!" indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do the younger children know what usually comes after the THE in adult speech?  I surely hope not.  I was hoping that they think "WHAT THE?!" is the complete expression in itself.  There is nothing that's supposed to come after it.  But then my 6 year-old started saying, "What the BEEP?!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What the?!" I thought.  *Pull hair*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back, even Buzz Lightyear in his own first feature-length cartoon after &lt;em&gt;Toy Story &lt;/em&gt;says "What the?!" once or twice - I remember that one because we had the VHS tape and watched it many many times.  The boys were a bit young to pick up on that then.  Now this expression appears just about in every cartoon not targeted towards the very young set.  That is, NO, don't worry, Telletubbies do not say this.  In fact, they don't really say much at all.  Nor does SuperWhy, Dora, or Bob the Builder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I bet that if you turn on network TV on Saturday morning, also known as "Cartoon all morning so you can relax while your kids sit in front of the TV" Saturday morning, you will hear "WHAT THE?!" more than a few times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this juncture, I am ashamed to report, I don't know how to react when I hear the kids say it since the cartoons that we allow them to watch (e.g. &lt;em&gt;Skunk Fu&lt;/em&gt;) use this expression, therefore, they are sanctioned by FCC, ergo, we parents should be ok with it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Despite the above complaint about my losing control over the upbringing of my kids, I am no prude.  I'll prove it:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What the f*ck?!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Turns out the answer is once again, "It's the economy, stupid!" According to &lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29681795//"&gt;MSNBC report&lt;/a&gt; in March 2009, "a foul economy is prompting more outbursts of foul language."  *Scratch head* I didn't know my kids read our 401K Statements...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6429669765751063724?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6429669765751063724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6429669765751063724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6429669765751063724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6429669765751063724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-epidemic.html' title='The &quot;What the __?!&quot; epidemic'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6818948268925733987</id><published>2009-05-08T12:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T01:53:26.073-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multiculturalism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marketing at work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What are they thinking?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='what do you know'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>How Nordstrom honors the Asian Pacific American Heritage Month...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SgRuy4CawsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/PzDvzKyzuAk/s1600-h/Drawing1-791289.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333509679028552386" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SgRuy4CawsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/PzDvzKyzuAk/s320/Drawing1-791289.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SgRuzLE6iWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/ZH6S4acahOU/s1600-h/NS+AAM-792187.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333509684139297122" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SgRuzLE6iWI/AAAAAAAAAIc/ZH6S4acahOU/s320/NS+AAM-792187.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;First of all, for all of ya who are uninitiated: May is designated by the U.S. Congress as the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asian_Pacific_American_Heritage_Month"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Asian Pacific American Heritage Month&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;. Don't fret if you didn't know until now. The first week of May is actually Asian Pacific American Heritage WEEK. Between the Swine Flu and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/2009/05/lessons_learned_from_the_oprah.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Oprah-KFC debacle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;(Seriously, folks. How much does it cost to just &lt;strong&gt;pay &lt;/strong&gt;for those grilled chicken? They look extremely unappetizing to me anyway...)&lt;/em&gt;, I don't think the mainstream media even remembered. So, you are forgiven. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Secondly, I promise I will not get on my soap box. There are many books/articles/websites out there if you are interested in reading about stereotypes, underrepresentation, Fu Man Chu, Lotus Blossoms vs. Dragon Ladies, blah blah blah. &lt;em&gt;(That would be me preaching to the choir - the conundrum is if you are, you would have known already. If you don't care, you are not going to check it out anyway...)&lt;/em&gt; Yup. Otherwise known to the "mainstream" society as, cough cough, "whining"... I say that because the common comment, from the "mainstream" society, to the critics of stereotypes is, "It's just a joke. &lt;em&gt;YOU PEOPLE&lt;/em&gt; have no sense of humor!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;"You people". I wince every time I read or hear it. In real life. In the movie, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAlVKgl_zCQ"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Tropic Thunder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;, it was hilarious how they played with it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Anyway, I digress. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;So in honor of the Asian Pacific American Heritage Month, &lt;a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/c/6011270/0~2377475~6011270?origin=hp"&gt;Nordstrom&lt;/a&gt; is hawking designer t-shirts by, you guessed it! Asian American designers. Anna Sui and Koi Suwannagate. YES! Represent, girls! &lt;em&gt;(I just have to ask: Was the ubiquitous Vera Wang too busy or too expensive?) &lt;/em&gt;Don't get me wrong. These are extremely gorgeous tees, at $60 a pop. And the profits will go to the scholarship fund for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ocanational.org/index.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=531&amp;amp;Itemid=94"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;OCA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;, an organization dedicated to advancing the cause for Asian Americans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial,helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;I am sure Nordstrom's efforts are appreciated but I am quite amused by the irony in this &lt;a href="http://shop.nordstrom.com/S/3034542/0~6006558~6006574~6007675?mediumthumbnail=Y&amp;amp;origin=category&amp;amp;searchtype=&amp;amp;pbo=6007675&amp;amp;P=1"&gt;shirt&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me nitpicking if you wish. And I assure you, I have a great sense of humor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6818948268925733987?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6818948268925733987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6818948268925733987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6818948268925733987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6818948268925733987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-nordstrom-honors-asian-pacific.html' title='How Nordstrom honors the Asian Pacific American Heritage Month...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SgRuy4CawsI/AAAAAAAAAIU/PzDvzKyzuAk/s72-c/Drawing1-791289.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7617274208117315533</id><published>2009-05-06T13:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T13:35:11.795-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I have Obama fever so sue me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><title type='text'>Parenthood makes me feel dumb</title><content type='html'>It is a cliche that children do not come with manuals.  No education prepares one for parenthood.  Sometimes I wonder whether a Jeopardy champion would make a better parent since they seem to be better equipped with answering completely random questions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The series of questions and free associations my 6 year-old child fires from the back of the car often make me grip the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white, because they are not the usual questions of "Mom, why is the sky blue?"  Nooo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When was [his daycare] built?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know honey."&lt;br /&gt;"The president of [his daycare] would know right?"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think so since there are hundreds of them."&lt;br /&gt;"When was our house built?"&lt;br /&gt;"2000"&lt;br /&gt;"See you know the answer.  So how come the president of [his daycare] does not know when my school is built?"&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who is the most powerful?  The governor of [our local village]?  The governor of Chicago?  Or the Governor of Illinois?"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I would say the Governor of the State of Illinois.  But you know they are responsible for different things."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, who is the most power? [The above list of people]? Or the governor of the United States?" &lt;br /&gt;"You mean the President?  I would say the President."&lt;br /&gt;"But you said that he works for us.  So how come he's the most powerful?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, when do you want your Mother's Day party to be?"&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm.  I was hoping that I could just relax.  I don't really feel like a party since I don't want to clean up afterwards."&lt;br /&gt;"Hmm, you should be like Obama's wife."&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;"Remember how she went to ten parties* and she didn't even complain?  You should be more like her." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;* My guess is that he is referring to the number of Inaugration balls the first couple attended&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7617274208117315533?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7617274208117315533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7617274208117315533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7617274208117315533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7617274208117315533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/parenthood-makes-me-feel-dumb.html' title='Parenthood makes me feel dumb'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4497392518978067689</id><published>2009-05-03T02:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T03:27:28.419-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions kids ask'/><title type='text'>Can't wait to grow up and I worry so.</title><content type='html'>People tell you that every one of your children is going to be different.  They don't tell you HOW MUCH different your kids can be from one another.  They came from the same gene pools, the same womb, grew up in the same household, and it amazes me how my 6-year-old boy has a much older soul than his older brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes wonder whether it is true that the questions asked by my youngest child have never been asked by my first-born, or perhaps I simply forgot.  I am often caught off guard by my youngest's questions, especially those stemmed from acute, and sometimes elliptical, observations of people around us and life itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today he asked, "Mom, what does illegal mean?"  "Hmm, it means against the law.  Like it is against the law to steal." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On my birthday, when it is legal for me to drink, I am going to drink a beer." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed.  "You do that."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4497392518978067689?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4497392518978067689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4497392518978067689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4497392518978067689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4497392518978067689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/cant-wait-to-grow-up-and-i-worry-so.html' title='Can&apos;t wait to grow up and I worry so.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4066014499373123676</id><published>2009-04-25T12:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T13:01:28.114-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><title type='text'>Things that you should watch out when they were young...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfNNRBGGHUI/AAAAAAAAAIM/g_7036xG1r8/s1600-h/photo-796482.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328687738856545602" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfNNRBGGHUI/AAAAAAAAAIM/g_7036xG1r8/s320/photo-796482.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 6 year-old has been quite busy with our Xerox machine lately. I&lt;br /&gt;didn't really pay attention to what he was doing, arts and crafts,&lt;br /&gt;innocent child's play, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This morning, amidst the pile of strewn paper on the floor of my study, I picked&lt;br /&gt;up the two pieces of Xeroxed "Honor Roll" award that his older brother&lt;br /&gt;had gotten. I burst out laughing: So that's what he's been doing! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I looked around some more and found "forged" Monopoly money as well. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do I have a master forger in the making on my hand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SfNOkd6WH7I/AAAAAAAAB2M/dYPiuMWiyiI/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328689172521033650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SfNOkd6WH7I/AAAAAAAAB2M/dYPiuMWiyiI/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4066014499373123676?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4066014499373123676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4066014499373123676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4066014499373123676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4066014499373123676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-that-you-should-watch-out-when.html' title='Things that you should watch out when they were young...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfNNRBGGHUI/AAAAAAAAAIM/g_7036xG1r8/s72-c/photo-796482.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-9034971876470435730</id><published>2009-04-23T19:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T13:02:57.966-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On the train'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Musings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yes I am a dork'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I love people'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i am a people person'/><title type='text'>On the Empty Seat: musings about how we all sit together, or not, on  the train</title><content type='html'>Like on any public transportation, an empty space on the seat next to where you are sitting is highly coveted – this has been proven with money (after all it talks) when airlines started offering “an empty seat next to you as long as it is not a full flight” as one of the benefits for being a super premier member, the elite amongst all the elites (e.g. United Airlines’ 1K members).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take the commuter train to and fro work every day and have been intrigued by the phenomenon surrounding the “The Empty Seat” (“TES” henceforth) Syndrome; in my perverted easily-amused mind, this is an anthropological subject waiting to happen: talk about cultural and social boundaries and unwritten rules being played out here, much like what one can observe inside an elevator. Only, on the train, I have an entire hour to watch the dance between two strangers forced to sit side by side for an extended period of time, sometimes, egads, with arms and/or legs touching!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is curious even though there is no rule on this, it does seem that people always sit by the window if they are the first to occupy a seat. This is after all good civil etiquette. However, immediately following Rule #1, Rule #2 commands, “Unless there is NO MORE empty seat on this train cart, do NOT come sit by me! Consider TES next to me only as a last resort!” Whoever breaks Rule #2 is immediately looked upon with suspicion and even alarm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TES is subtly guarded with vehemence – just look at the purse, the briefcase, the newspaper, the magazine, the book, the shopping bag, and the McDonald’s paper bag placed on where there another person could have been sitting. This gesture murmurs loudly, “Yes, you are of course welcome to sit here, but I’d prefer if you don’t!” Some people seem to have taken TES as their god-given right: instead of the subtle act of leaving object on TES, they simply plot themselves down PAST the invisible dividing line on the two-person seat. Men tend to do this a lot, and oftentimes I am tempted to ask whether they are ready to have the conductor punch two holes on their tickets. (And I am more than ready to punch two holes on somewhere else other than their tickets… I am passionate about things that don’t matter like this…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most intriguing is the act of “choosing a seat” on a train that no longer has any TES left. Every single chair is occupied, with someone sitting by the window. And here you can tell roughly what kind of person each one of us is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Health warning: Since we are NOT in B-school and I don’t work for any of the management consulting firms, the following attempt at metaphorically grouping passengers on MY train is by no means MECE. Anybody that complains, “But it’s not MECE!” will die a horrible death…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The forever conscientious: these people, mostly women (and not young), move their belongings onto their lap as soon as they see new passengers coming. But very seldom do I see people ready to 1. move their bag all the way to the floor, 2. move themselves closer to the window so as to make more space. “Please, please, please. I want to do the right thing but please don’t pick me…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The “I have done my share so what do you want from me”: these people will continue to do whatever they are doing. They have kept their belongs relatively close to themselves so there is still reasonable space for a relatively normal-sized person to sit in TES. Maybe they really are so engrossed in the book or the scenery outside. They will simply ignore you, and not budge while you sit down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The “Yeah I see you but I am not happy about moving my stuff”: maybe they are simply pretending that they don’t see you coming. You need to actually ask these people, “eh, excuse me…” The nicer ones would quickly move their stuff, some even apologetically. The not so nice ones will furrow their brows as if you are asking them to give you their first born. When you sit down, you are made to feel ashamed for encroaching on their carefully constructed personal space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The “I am sitting here and you’d better not try and squeeze in beside me”: These are the aforementioned (mostly male) passengers. Their body takes up so much space, mind you, not because they are overweight, but because they do not make the attempt to “be one with the window”. They leave so little space that only a waif could possible sit by them – perhaps that is the intention… I am not sure. Though I often, as I mentioned above, wanted to confront them, I have never actually tried to sit down, afraid that they may turn out to be truly jerk-offs – They may NOT budge an inch, and I will have to suffer either the shame of getting up from a seat and moving to another seat (a questionable act on the train unless you have an excuse that EVERYBODY else could see and could easily understand…) or the agony of being squeezed into a space fit only for a waif, for an entire hour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I will blog about the agonizing thought process of when I choose a seat on the train back: So many choices, so little time…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-9034971876470435730?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9034971876470435730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=9034971876470435730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9034971876470435730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9034971876470435730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-empty-seat-musings-about-how-we-all.html' title='On the Empty Seat: musings about how we all sit together, or not, on  the train'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7373883136467300045</id><published>2009-04-23T19:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T19:34:00.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you marry me? If I propose to you at Taco Bell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfEI-DOM_LI/AAAAAAAAAIE/O7mY2EGAC3c/s1600-h/photo-740473.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfEI-DOM_LI/AAAAAAAAAIE/O7mY2EGAC3c/s320/photo-740473.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328049696265796786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Taco Bell has been putting clever (ok, some more than the others...)  &lt;br&gt;sayings on their taco sauces for a while now. We often got a good  &lt;br&gt;chuckle out of them. This one though is the first time I saw &amp;quot;will you  &lt;br&gt;marry me?&amp;quot; on the package.&lt;p&gt;I have been wondering in what scenario will a girl be so elated when  &lt;br&gt;she is being proposed at Taco Bell, with her mouth stuffed with rice  &lt;br&gt;and beans? Perhaps a spontaneous moment would come when a young man  &lt;br&gt;sees this and takes action?  I guess that would be romantic.&lt;p&gt;Perchance the girl says yes, and they will celebrate with a passionate  &lt;br&gt;kiss.  Perhaps other patrons will even applaud, just like in the  &lt;br&gt;movies...&lt;p&gt;Perhaps not.&lt;p&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;br&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7373883136467300045?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7373883136467300045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7373883136467300045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7373883136467300045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7373883136467300045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/will-you-marry-me-if-i-propose-to-you.html' title='Will you marry me? If I propose to you at Taco Bell?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfEI-DOM_LI/AAAAAAAAAIE/O7mY2EGAC3c/s72-c/photo-740473.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-9209666053894377074</id><published>2009-04-23T14:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T14:39:15.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If I were working on an ethnographic study on the Global Twitter  Tribe, I would start here with Twitter Earth...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfDD4-m_YVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/l0kX8LeeRNw/s1600-h/Drawing1-755148.gif"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfDD4-m_YVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/l0kX8LeeRNw/s320/Drawing1-755148.gif"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327973742825922898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have some inexplicable fascination of Twitter, the much beloved or maligned or questioned (depending on you hang out with...) but can&amp;#39;t-be-ignored, new kid on the block, by my troth! you definitely should check out &lt;a href="http://twittervision.com/maps/show_3d" target="_blank"&gt;Twitter Earth&lt;/a&gt;... &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Twitter Earth is basically a 3D presentation of &lt;a href="http://twittervision.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Twittervision&lt;/a&gt;, which shows every tweet, live, and where it comes from, visually. You just need to trust me and click on the link here... words failed me... which they often do...  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Whenever I clicked on Twitterearth, I found myself thinking, &amp;quot;Wow, I could really sit here and watch this thing all day.&amp;quot; Meaning, instead of watching the goldfish swimming on the Aquarium screen saver, I would rather watch Tweets around the globe live in action. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Even more wishful thinking would be to watch this thing on a JumboTron...  Wouldn&amp;#39;t it be cool to have this app running non-stop on the giant screen at Times Square?!   &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;p.s. To those who wonder when I will stop yapping about Twitter &amp;quot;Enough Already!&amp;quot; tomorrow, I shall yap about... t-shirts!!!  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-9209666053894377074?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9209666053894377074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=9209666053894377074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9209666053894377074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9209666053894377074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-i-were-working-on-ethnographic-study.html' title='If I were working on an ethnographic study on the Global Twitter  Tribe, I would start here with Twitter Earth...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SfDD4-m_YVI/AAAAAAAAAH8/l0kX8LeeRNw/s72-c/Drawing1-755148.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6249590413347436768</id><published>2009-04-23T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T12:21:41.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In honor of the Bard's birthday, prithee, we should channel Katharina  from The Taming of the Shrew...</title><content type='html'>Today (April 23) is William Shakespeare's 445&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday, and Chicago Mayor Richard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Daly&lt;/span&gt; had &lt;em&gt;proclaimed&lt;/em&gt; last week that today would be Talk Like Shakespeare Day in Chicago, since you know, the Second City is known for its high culture and all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Of course today is the day I wish I had ordered &lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shakespeares-Insults-Educating-Your-Wit/dp/0517885395/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1240506059&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shakespeare's Insults&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt; : Fie on thee! I knew it would have come in handy one day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chicago Shakespeare Theatre was more than happy to abide and set up the &lt;a href="http://www.talklikeshakespeare.org/"&gt;Talk Like Shakespeare&lt;/a&gt; website. Using the latest Internet sensation, who else? Twitter! they are even providing a translation service of some sort:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A live feed straight from the Bard!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Tweet &lt;a href="http://mail.google.com/mail/goog_1240503624635"&gt;@&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.twitter.com/ShakespeareSays"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ShakespeareSays&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;any modern phrase, and he'll post on Twitter what it would have sounded like four hundred years ago. Whoever is behind that, Bard? is hilariously funny. As of this moment, the latest tweet is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Dear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Blago&lt;/span&gt;: The hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the greater hides the less."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry-making aside, in accordance with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;persona&lt;/span&gt;, I would like to channel Katharina from &lt;em&gt;The Taming of the Shrew... (&lt;/em&gt;not just for today, of course, as my &lt;em&gt;poor&lt;/em&gt; husband would gladly point out...):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak,&lt;br /&gt;And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:&lt;br /&gt;Your betters have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;endur'd&lt;/span&gt; me say my mind,&lt;br /&gt;And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.&lt;br /&gt;My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,&lt;br /&gt;Or else my heart, concealing it, will break:&lt;br /&gt;And rather than it shall, I will be free&lt;br /&gt;Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Shrews &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;FTW&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6249590413347436768?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6249590413347436768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6249590413347436768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6249590413347436768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6249590413347436768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-honor-of-bards-birthday-prithee-we.html' title='In honor of the Bard&apos;s birthday, prithee, we should channel Katharina  from The Taming of the Shrew...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8794439144803202324</id><published>2009-04-17T08:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T08:39:52.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Say What? Only in real life would such funny things be said in a  court of law. And only in America...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt;This email was sent to me this morning, and provided much laughter inside my head.  I believe, like all jokes being passed around on the Internet today, this has been going around for a few years, especially considering that the following quotations are from a book called &lt;span id="btAsinTitle"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Disorder-Court-Fractured-Moments-Courtroom/dp/0393319288"&gt;Disorder in the Court: Great Fractured Moments in Courtroom History&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; by Charles M. Sevilla, published in 1999. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt;Some of the gems from Amazon.com&amp;#39;s brief introduction to the book: &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A psychiatrist, starting with a court assertion that &amp;quot;we&amp;#39;re not arguing truth here, we&amp;#39;re arguing evidence,&amp;quot; declares that &amp;quot;I am not here using common sense, I am an expert.&amp;quot; A defendant accused of drunken driving displays delightful candor by pleading &amp;quot;guilty as hell.&amp;quot; A team of three overzealous defense attorneys beats up a client to provide evidence of self-defense.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt;Apparently, the following are &amp;quot;things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were taking place.&amp;quot; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="gmail_quote"&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: He said, &amp;#39;Where am I, Cathy?&amp;#39;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: My name is Susan!&lt;br&gt; ____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: No, I just lie there..&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Yes.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: I forget.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?&lt;br&gt;___________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: We both do.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Voodoo?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: We do.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: You do?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn&amp;#39;t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn&amp;#39;t know about it until the next morning?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?&lt;br&gt;____________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: He&amp;#39;s twenty, much like your IQ.&lt;br&gt;___________________________________________&lt;br&gt; &lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Are you shitting me?&lt;br&gt;_________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Yes.&lt;br&gt; ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: getting laid&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Yes.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: How many were boys?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: None.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS : Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: By death.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Take a guess.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.&lt;br&gt; ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town I&amp;#39;m going with male.&lt;br&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.&lt;br&gt;______________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.&lt;br&gt; _________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Oral.&lt;br&gt;_________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.&lt;br&gt;____________________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?&lt;br&gt; WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?&lt;br&gt;______________________________________&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;And the best for last:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: No.&lt;br&gt; ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: No.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: No.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: No.&lt;br&gt; ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.&lt;br&gt;ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?&lt;br&gt;WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8794439144803202324?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8794439144803202324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8794439144803202324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8794439144803202324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8794439144803202324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/say-what-only-in-real-life-would-such.html' title='Say What? Only in real life would such funny things be said in a  court of law. And only in America...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1290697133203861583</id><published>2009-04-14T23:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:05:26.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Twouble with Twitters" Funny animation vid explaining and condemning Twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;object height="417" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PN2HAroA12w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PN2HAroA12w&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="417" wmode="window" width="500"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;    &lt;div class="posterous_quote_citation"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PN2HAroA12w"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;Funny in a, "I know there is something wrong but I just can't stop it" kind of way. Sort like chocolate. Or, porn, for some people, I guess.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Who are you talking to?" &lt;br /&gt;"No one and every one!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Someone posted link to this vid as a comment to the thought-provoking "It's Official - Twitter Is A Cult" by Jeremy Toeman. In which Mr. Toeman did an analysis, comparing Twitter to the official definitions of a cult. It is humorous yet alarming at the same time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The entire article is here: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livedigitally.com/2009/04/14/its-official-twitter-is-a-cult/"&gt;http://www.livedigitally.com/2009/04/14/its-official-twitter-is-a-cult/&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;I am trying to cut back. But Twitter to me was like weed in the beginning. Now that I have installed Tweetdeck, it has become like crack cocain. So easy to get addicted to, so much harder to rehab.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via web&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/twouble-with-twitters-funny-animation-vid-exp"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1290697133203861583?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1290697133203861583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1290697133203861583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1290697133203861583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1290697133203861583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/with-twitters-funny-animation-vid.html' title='&amp;quot;Twouble with Twitters&amp;quot; Funny animation vid explaining and condemning Twitter'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6849657920304139695</id><published>2009-04-14T00:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T01:36:28.150-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On being funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Web 2.0'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from wired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Presentation of Self'/><title type='text'>Wired article struck a cord and so I am copying and pasting the whole thing...</title><content type='html'>Ok. I am not really going to do this. But I just want to do something about this article: Scott Brown's "&lt;a href="http://www.wired.com/techbiz/people/magazine/17-04/pl_brown"&gt;Gag Reflexes&lt;/a&gt;" in &lt;em&gt;Wired &lt;/em&gt;(April 2009). The online edition has a longer title: "Scott Brown on Stand-Up Comedy, Lingua Franca of the Wired World" which sums up Mr. Brown's theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe crumple up the page and eat it. But I already promised my husband that I will refrain from wrinkling up any magazine pages before he's done with them. (Ok. I am attempting to be funny here. If you read Mr. Brown article, you would understand why I feel exposed, caught in the act of trying to be funny. To earn more currency in this new economy...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it wrong to want to quote an entire article really? Ok. Maybe not 100%. I don't really care for the examples Mr. Brown gave to support his argument. But the insights sprinkled in-between, those struck a cord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am no writer, and I am too tired (not to mention lazy), and here is my journal (i.e. I will do what I damn please), so I am going to jott down sentences that particularly resonate with me, and be done with it: (Thank goodness for Ctrl + C &amp;amp; Ctrl + V !!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... everything is 'material,' and life is one big writer's room, a massive clusterchuckle of &lt;strong&gt;witty one-upsmanship&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"More than that: Everyone must be funny. Because 'funny' is becoming a language unto itself, the lingua franca of the wired world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Always feel this way since I got hooked on Twitter. Sometimes it feels almost like a comedy show writers' room, the pressure is on to be the next funniest. hence wisest, person in the Twitter stream that you can see.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Humor saturates the infosphere, for at least two reasons: First, a successful joke implies insight, and &lt;strong&gt;insight, especially if it's pithy and self-explanatory, is the basic currency of a high-speed information economy&lt;/strong&gt;. Second, the fundamental tools and techniques of that economy—memory, annotation, contrast, collage—are also the fundamental tools of comedy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I absolutely agree with #1. Feeling grateful that someone actually voiced this murky concept so clearly in one single sentence. Everyone is a guru of life, and the shallow shall be deep again. Not so sure about #2 since those are the fundamental tools of storytelling, upon which human history has been, and will be, passed on. What we don't see in the histories in the past is IRONY and self-awareness, imo, which, well, make intelligent comedies. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Moreover, it has always been my one belief that a great sense of humor indicates a great presence of intellect and tolerance. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this final quote may sound like an accusation "Gotcha!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If the references are flying over your head, no worries: &lt;strong&gt;You can zip over to Wikipedia and be back in time for the punch line&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like I said, Google is Your Friend! Raise your hand if you have NEVER done this... Thankfully Mr. Brown provided hyperlinks to all the references he cited for the article. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6849657920304139695?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6849657920304139695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6849657920304139695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6849657920304139695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6849657920304139695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/wired-article-struck-cord-and-so-i-am.html' title='Wired article struck a cord and so I am copying and pasting the whole thing...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1185073818095183265</id><published>2009-04-09T14:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T14:21:02.807-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Which countries lead in Teenage Drunkenness? Note to self: Do not  move to Denmark...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sd5Kf1Op7DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/MEHKweYoThg/s1600-h/Teenagers-731114.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322773720323451954" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sd5Kf1Op7DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/MEHKweYoThg/s320/Teenagers-731114.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This Daily Chart from &lt;a href="http://www.economist.com/research/articlesBySubject/displaystory.cfm?subjectid=7933596&amp;amp;story_id=13395790#"&gt;the Economist&lt;/a&gt; solved it for me: have been agonizing over whether to move to Denmark since we love Legos so...  Now I know with two impressionable boys, this is a country we should keep away from during their teenage years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Denmark and excessive drinking?  No surprise really, if you have seen this vid:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.metacafe.com/fplayer/1100701/lego_beer_song.swf" width="400" height="345" wmode="transparent" allowFullScreen="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size = 1&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/watch/1100701/lego_beer_song/"&gt;Lego Beer Song&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.metacafe.com/"&gt;The best free videos are right here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1185073818095183265?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1185073818095183265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1185073818095183265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1185073818095183265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1185073818095183265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/which-countries-lead-in-teenage.html' title='Which countries lead in Teenage Drunkenness? Note to self: Do not  move to Denmark...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sd5Kf1Op7DI/AAAAAAAAAH0/MEHKweYoThg/s72-c/Teenagers-731114.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1443242122262104141</id><published>2009-04-09T14:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T14:06:08.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
This is how you should order your fastfood! Taco Bell Drive-Thru Song  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;object height="417" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-uwY3sjqYX0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-uwY3sjqYX0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="417" wmode="window" width="500"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;    &lt;div class="posterous_quote_citation"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uwY3sjqYX0"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;The most amazing things about this vid, in addition to the lovable singers-songwriters and the catchy lyrics and melody, are the ordering screen keeping up with the food items mentioned in the song and the drive-thru guy.   &lt;p&gt;Is this truly unscripted? The drive-thru guy is not in on this? Amazing! He should definitely get a raise: THE BEST order taker at a drive-thru I have ever seen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via web&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/this-is-how-you-should-order-your-fastfood-ta"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1443242122262104141?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1443242122262104141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1443242122262104141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1443242122262104141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1443242122262104141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-how-you-should-order-your.html' title='&#xA;This is how you should order your fastfood! Taco Bell Drive-Thru Song  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2728037661221331746</id><published>2009-04-08T09:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:54:26.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
If you like Sound of Music, you are going to love this. DO Re Mi remixed!   </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;object height="417" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0UE3CNu_rtY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0UE3CNu_rtY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="417" wmode="window" width="500"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;    &lt;div class="posterous_quote_citation"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;The beginning may be slow, but stay with it. It is so cool I am getting goose bumps all over my body just watching it now as I type this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via web&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/if-you-like-sound-of-music-you-are-going-to-l"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2728037661221331746?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2728037661221331746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2728037661221331746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2728037661221331746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2728037661221331746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-you-like-sound-of-music-you-are_08.html' title='&#xA;If you like Sound of Music, you are going to love this. DO Re Mi remixed!   '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8217964975778871056</id><published>2009-04-08T09:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T09:53:35.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
If you like Sound of Music, you are going to love this. DO Re Mi remixed!   </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;object height="417" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0UE3CNu_rtY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="window" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0UE3CNu_rtY&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;ap=%2526fmt%3D18" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="417" wmode="window" width="500"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;    &lt;div class="posterous_quote_citation"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;p&gt;The beginning may be slow, but stay with it. It is so cool I am getting goose bumps all over my body just watching it now as I type this.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via web&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/if-you-like-sound-of-music-you-are-going-to-l"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8217964975778871056?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8217964975778871056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8217964975778871056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8217964975778871056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8217964975778871056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-you-like-sound-of-music-you-are.html' title='&#xA;If you like Sound of Music, you are going to love this. DO Re Mi remixed!   '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2244189655688639870</id><published>2009-04-06T03:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T03:46:11.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Man boobs", or, To raise boys you need great sense of humor...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdnBU_sm3BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Wwhg27fkugY/s1600-h/photo-771334.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdnBU_sm3BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Wwhg27fkugY/s320/photo-771334.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321497001155025938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I was finally going to go to bed but found in the dark something on my  &lt;br&gt;pillow. I could tell that they are water-filled balloons since the  &lt;br&gt;boys were playing with balloons in the bathtub earlier...  I also felt  &lt;br&gt;a note so I turned the light on again to read it. Imagine my surprise  &lt;br&gt;&amp;amp; mixed reactions when I saw the &amp;quot;balloons&amp;quot; in this fashion... And the  &lt;br&gt;note as written by my 11yo says:&lt;p&gt;It was 6 yo&amp;#39;s idea to put them together like this and call them &amp;quot;man  &lt;br&gt;boobs&amp;quot;. He in now way likes this but promised to do something so only  &lt;br&gt;20% his fault.&lt;p&gt;I don&amp;#39;t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I will sleep for 3 hours  &lt;br&gt;first then decide.&lt;p&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2244189655688639870?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2244189655688639870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2244189655688639870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2244189655688639870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2244189655688639870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/man-boobs-or-to-raise-boys-you-need.html' title='&quot;Man boobs&quot;, or, To raise boys you need great sense of humor...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdnBU_sm3BI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Wwhg27fkugY/s72-c/photo-771334.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1227774514993893868</id><published>2009-04-06T01:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T01:30:14.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The importance of understanding Chinese...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Someone forwarded me this as a cautionary tale for people to understand the Chinese characters on the t-shirts they are wearing or, especially important, those that you are about to have tattooed on your body:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;1. Pig. Not BOAR. But PIG. There is only one common Chinese word which stands for all types of pigs, but mostly the domesticated pigs, so yes, all negative stereotypes apply and don't kid yourself by saying what you have means BOAR. NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;2. Not sure whether she is knowingly wearing the t-shirt for shock values since it says "Love intercourse the most". 'nough said. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;3. Chicken. Again, the one common Chinese character that stands for all chicken, so for example, Rooster is "male chicken", chick, "little chicken", chicken (that you eat), "chicken meat", and so on. The trouble with this t-shirt is that this word is also a slang for "hooker"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;4. The kanji (Chinese characters used in Japanese) on the t-shirt says PERVERT. It would be funny if the person wearing it looked anything but...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0.75pt; PADDING-LEFT: 0.75pt; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0.75pt; PADDING-TOP: 0.75pt"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/gsYl2189znBrz2kzxpR5rFnGeKaHLNziTWd3jBmdE7fzlB33PUJKVgaGoUZA/image001.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"  style="font-size:13;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="328" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/DE9bB5EabEehF2hrV1VUe672S2Rn2lRuj6lU6yo9VJw2DV5U9fRWJVmknC2j/image004.jpg" width="471" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="360" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/sb0PF5KHwTLJWicG7gHg8Rcybb7QqehzjEJxfpjoABEyN6VUovZS21kjG0rx/image003.jpg" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="338" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/udzcVW4UtMy16DNY5G7qm6ay95eLuqfEPX9VypEObjKeTQh7YfpCZ5hAEDVA/image002.jpg" width="450" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/the-importance-of-understanding-chinese"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1227774514993893868?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1227774514993893868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1227774514993893868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1227774514993893868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1227774514993893868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/importance-of-understanding-chinese.html' title='The importance of understanding Chinese...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3895449069462619857</id><published>2009-04-05T21:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T01:59:06.134-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Food we missed...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdlu28WknHI/AAAAAAAAAHk/FPVUA_IEjj4/s1600-h/photo-759165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321406324907744370" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdlu28WknHI/AAAAAAAAAHk/FPVUA_IEjj4/s320/photo-759165.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;These things that we have taken for granted are either hard to find or ridiculously expensive... &lt;p&gt;Frozen food in general. &lt;p&gt;Cheese pizza: pizzas have to have LOTs of toppings.  Tried to teach a&lt;br /&gt;server at an Italian restaurant how to make cheese pizza and they came back with crust and cheese and nothing else. &lt;p&gt;Strawberry milk: we saw apple milk &amp;amp; even fruit milk. No luck finding low fat or no fat milk. &lt;p&gt;Cucumber: only saw small cucumbers with no visible seeds, like English cucumbers only much smaller. &lt;p&gt;Carrots that are peeled and washed; people are not as lazy... I think... &lt;p&gt;Pancakes and waffles in some fancy restaurants, especially pancakes with syrup at McDs were a big hit with my kids, but syrup seems to be a rare find: if you can have honey or jam why would you want "thickened sugar water"? &lt;p&gt;Sliced American cheese. Fancy French cheese yes.  Mundane sliced American Cheese, say what?  &lt;p&gt;Cream cheese: surprised to see bagels @ several restaurants, and there is even a New York Bagel Shop. But big tubs of cream cheese are not sold at stores. Naturally. &lt;p&gt;Ice cream: not difficult to find all sorts of fancy ice cream shops, and the more common ones too, in Taipei, including Cold Stone Creamery now. But our sticker shock in Beijing - 90 rmb ($15) for a tiny tub of B&amp;amp;J's prompted me to splurge on 3 @ 2 for $7 just now. &lt;p&gt;The small things in life...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3895449069462619857?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3895449069462619857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3895449069462619857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3895449069462619857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3895449069462619857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/food-we-missed.html' title='Food we missed...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdlu28WknHI/AAAAAAAAAHk/FPVUA_IEjj4/s72-c/photo-759165.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4852699736348408934</id><published>2009-04-05T21:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T21:24:23.685-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Air China aircraft with the famous Beijing Five (Olympics mascots) pretty sure taking pics is not allowed?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdln162dm4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/dh_HMlL-KUI/s1600-h/photo-763686.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdln162dm4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/dh_HMlL-KUI/s320/photo-763686.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321398610743368578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4852699736348408934?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4852699736348408934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4852699736348408934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4852699736348408934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4852699736348408934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/air-china-aircraft-with-famous-beijing.html' title='Air China aircraft with the famous Beijing Five (Olympics mascots) pretty sure taking pics is not allowed?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sdln162dm4I/AAAAAAAAAHc/dh_HMlL-KUI/s72-c/photo-763686.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-9112810274715997780</id><published>2009-04-02T23:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T23:55:39.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SOGO Department Store in Taipei : There is a recession here in  Taiwan?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWy6gR7hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/YdmgTkUGGCI/s1600-h/Taipei+April+2+2009+015-739110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWy6gR7hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/YdmgTkUGGCI/s320/Taipei+April+2+2009+015-739110.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320324336250383890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWzAjD-jI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kvqkId0cru8/s1600-h/Taipei+April+2+2009+013-739943.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWzAjD-jI/AAAAAAAAAHM/kvqkId0cru8/s320/Taipei+April+2+2009+013-739943.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320324337872665138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWzSQpAbI/AAAAAAAAAHU/p9cl2NOEVOY/s1600-h/Taipei+April+2+2009+014-740835.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWzSQpAbI/AAAAAAAAAHU/p9cl2NOEVOY/s320/Taipei+April+2+2009+014-740835.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320324342627238322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;From what I was told, yes there is.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;This is inside the SOGO department store in Taipei. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;So who is buying the Hermès, the Louie Vuittons, the Tods, and the Cartiers? I guess it is the same everywhere you go. The top of the pyramid is not really affected despite the global economic downturn. So they have to downsize from Mercedes Benz to Lexus. No tears from me for them...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-9112810274715997780?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9112810274715997780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=9112810274715997780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9112810274715997780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9112810274715997780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/sogo-department-store-in-taipei-there.html' title='SOGO Department Store in Taipei : There is a recession here in  Taiwan?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWWy6gR7hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/YdmgTkUGGCI/s72-c/Taipei+April+2+2009+015-739110.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2723326100059179457</id><published>2009-04-02T23:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T23:27:16.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally saw it with my own eyes! Sound machine inside public toilet  to mask the embarrassing noise...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWQJLbAqFI/AAAAAAAAAG8/tDs8eMk2UP8/s1600-h/Taipei+April+2+2009+012-736084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWQJLbAqFI/AAAAAAAAAG8/tDs8eMk2UP8/s320/Taipei+April+2+2009+012-736084.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320317022167410770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have heard about this along time ago: Japanese women often flush the toilet as soon as they enter the stall to mask the embarrassing noise people naturally make when in the bathroom. This act of civility turned out to waste a lot of water resource. At first, they tried sound machines with music, etc., but still did not see significant reduction in water usage. Finally someone (or some company) came up with the idea of duplicating the sound of toilet flushing. This time, success. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;I have always wanted to see one and after so many years, finally saw one in the luxurious restroom at the Takashimaya Department Store in Taipei (which also has the bidet-toilet seat...)  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;I only took a picture of it (while fully clothed mind you!! Was just there to take the picture...)  But someone actually videotaped it here on &lt;a href="http://www.boingboing.net/2008/06/03/gadget-in-japanese-p.html"&gt;Boing Boing&lt;/a&gt;. Glad to know I was not the only one fascinated by this thing.  &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2723326100059179457?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2723326100059179457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2723326100059179457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2723326100059179457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2723326100059179457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-finally-saw-it-with-my-own-eyes-sound.html' title='I finally saw it with my own eyes! Sound machine inside public toilet  to mask the embarrassing noise...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdWQJLbAqFI/AAAAAAAAAG8/tDs8eMk2UP8/s72-c/Taipei+April+2+2009+012-736084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2766085765100406898</id><published>2009-04-02T21:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T21:28:35.811-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Starbucks in Beijing in the "Bar Street" @ Bei Hai (North Sea)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdV0VAE-j0I/AAAAAAAAAG0/rE8u88V8zEE/s1600-h/CIMG1101-715812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdV0VAE-j0I/AAAAAAAAAG0/rE8u88V8zEE/s320/CIMG1101-715812.JPG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320286438955061058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have not travelled around the world enough to be a credible source, but from what I have seen, this is probably the best looking Starbucks...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2766085765100406898?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2766085765100406898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2766085765100406898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2766085765100406898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2766085765100406898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/starbucks-in-beijing-in-bar-street-bei.html' title='Starbucks in Beijing in the &quot;Bar Street&quot; @ Bei Hai (North Sea)'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdV0VAE-j0I/AAAAAAAAAG0/rE8u88V8zEE/s72-c/CIMG1101-715812.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8560457183091723189</id><published>2009-03-30T13:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:28:10.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Legend of Kung Fu again: video of the curtain call performance... the actual show is 100 times better</title><content type='html'>From the curtain calls it is easy to see that why Chinese consider this show to be strictly for tourists: cheesy, gaudy, and full of Kung Fu cliches. But it is the same with all the Kung Fu (and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wuxia" target="_blank"&gt;Wuxia&lt;/a&gt;) movies that we love.  So why not just admit that I thoroughly enjoyed this show?  There is no shame in this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chunyi-kungfu.com/home.html" target="_blank"&gt;The Legend of Kung Fu&lt;/a&gt; at Red Theatre. Turns out they are such a well-organized attraction that they have a nice website with preview clips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FWIW, uploaded the curtain calls I videotaped as a proof that I was there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/G7sF4zGa5Ws&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/G7sF4zGa5Ws&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/I4fvYNa9k-M&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/I4fvYNa9k-M&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8560457183091723189?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8560457183091723189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8560457183091723189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8560457183091723189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8560457183091723189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/legend-of-kung-fu-again-video-of.html' title='The Legend of Kung Fu again: video of the curtain call performance... the actual show is 100 times better'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5175650307356742947</id><published>2009-03-30T13:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T22:29:52.114-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Wall was my great slide. WEAR GOOD SHOES! How come nobody tells you that?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCUS-EmAI/AAAAAAAABcM/wnUbJjd02ao/s1600-h/CIMG0732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320301820009289730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCUS-EmAI/AAAAAAAABcM/wnUbJjd02ao/s320/CIMG0732.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCUJYFtwI/AAAAAAAABcE/IBSFVNgruUI/s1600-h/CIMG0731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320301817434060546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCUJYFtwI/AAAAAAAABcE/IBSFVNgruUI/s320/CIMG0731.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCT6eRJ9I/AAAAAAAABb8/a2H4MlSIJ-4/s1600-h/CIMG0730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320301813433444306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCT6eRJ9I/AAAAAAAABb8/a2H4MlSIJ-4/s320/CIMG0730.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These picture shows the slippery slope up the Great Wall. It was snowing and bitterly cold when we were up there. We couldn't even walk up to the very top of this section of the Great Wall. My 6 yo ran up and couldn't get down on his own. So I had to pull myself up along the railing, and then slid down the middle of the wall on my behind with my 6 yo doing the same ahead of me. It was so slippery that even sitting on the seat of my jeans, I still needed to try and grab the surface with my gloved hands and shoes as much as I could to stop myself from sliding all the way down to the landing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People were laughing but probably also envying my courage in making a fool of myself. LOL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So many people were wearing suits and dress shoes. And we even saw women in high heels. I cannot even imagine how they got where they were in those!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5175650307356742947?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5175650307356742947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5175650307356742947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5175650307356742947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5175650307356742947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/great-wall-was-my-great-slide-wear-good.html' title='The Great Wall was my great slide. WEAR GOOD SHOES! How come nobody tells you that?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWCUS-EmAI/AAAAAAAABcM/wnUbJjd02ao/s72-c/CIMG0732.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5295440036240253809</id><published>2009-03-30T13:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T23:02:10.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Inside the Chinese palace is full of tragic tales and horror stories...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFOipoitI/AAAAAAAABck/W5MWyLhZs0c/s1600-h/CIMG0888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320305019674200786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFOipoitI/AAAAAAAABck/W5MWyLhZs0c/s320/CIMG0888.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFAdSwTbI/AAAAAAAABcc/kiGWCulDwbM/s1600-h/CIMG0887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320304777717894578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFAdSwTbI/AAAAAAAABcc/kiGWCulDwbM/s320/CIMG0887.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFAd6lgWI/AAAAAAAABcU/VtLEhM58Efw/s1600-h/CIMG0885.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320304777884959074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFAd6lgWI/AAAAAAAABcU/VtLEhM58Efw/s320/CIMG0885.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The said Concubine Zhen entered the palace when she was thirteen and soon became the Emperor's favorite. I guess the Emperor's still-young (according to the modern standard) windowed mother, the Empress Dowager Cixi was not too fond of this fact. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are so many titillating stories about Cixi. I often wonder whether she was born evil or was forced by circumstances to grow into such a ruthless power-hungry figure. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our outings to admire the various palaces, I could not help but tell my eldest the horror stories behind the grandeur of Chinese dynasties, including what it means to be an eunuch and what it takes to bind a woman's feet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I have forever scarred him. "All that glitters is not gold."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mission accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5295440036240253809?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5295440036240253809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5295440036240253809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5295440036240253809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5295440036240253809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/inside-chinese-palace-is-full-of-tragic.html' title='Inside the Chinese palace is full of tragic tales and horror stories...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdWFOipoitI/AAAAAAAABck/W5MWyLhZs0c/s72-c/CIMG0888.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8476005153578638231</id><published>2009-03-30T13:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:39:09.261-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I didn't know that you need a Chinatown in China...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEQb8kwCdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/wGPEfjd_sJA/s1600-h/CIMG0841-799118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319050707204049362" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEQb8kwCdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/wGPEfjd_sJA/s320/CIMG0841-799118.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;'nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8476005153578638231?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8476005153578638231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8476005153578638231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8476005153578638231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8476005153578638231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-didnt-know-what-you-need-chinatown-in.html' title='I didn&apos;t know that you need a Chinatown in China...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEQb8kwCdI/AAAAAAAAAGs/wGPEfjd_sJA/s72-c/CIMG0841-799118.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-726481706345015698</id><published>2009-03-30T13:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:30:15.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So proud of my boys; they sat through 2-hour Chinese opera last night  after a day at the Great Wall &amp; Ming Tombs</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEPt7O9AMI/AAAAAAAAAGc/3xDWtfgIFu0/s1600-h/CIMG0860-715195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEPt7O9AMI/AAAAAAAAAGc/3xDWtfgIFu0/s320/CIMG0860-715195.JPG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319049916570206402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEPucB6fAI/AAAAAAAAAGk/CZV-q5Fa6u8/s1600-h/CIMG0859-716821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEPucB6fAI/AAAAAAAAAGk/CZV-q5Fa6u8/s320/CIMG0859-716821.JPG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319049925373885442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;without understanding a single word in the play. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;Not that many Chinese adults can say that, I can attest to that. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-726481706345015698?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/726481706345015698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=726481706345015698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/726481706345015698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/726481706345015698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-proud-of-my-boys-they-sat-through-2.html' title='So proud of my boys; they sat through 2-hour Chinese opera last night  after a day at the Great Wall &amp; Ming Tombs'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdEPt7O9AMI/AAAAAAAAAGc/3xDWtfgIFu0/s72-c/CIMG0860-715195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-279977232291894359</id><published>2009-03-30T13:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:38:32.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you think turtles are cute, how about turtles with head of dragon?  They are everywhere...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEROtuud_I/AAAAAAAABb0/Ifxe9qzVqo0/s1600-h/CIMG0746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319051579392686066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEROtuud_I/AAAAAAAABb0/Ifxe9qzVqo0/s320/CIMG0746.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one of the Ming Tombs (resting place of one of the thirteen Emperors during the Ming Dynasty)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEROM6NRII/AAAAAAAABbs/TDBF2_s0uE0/s1600-h/CIMG0963.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319051570582471810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEROM6NRII/AAAAAAAABbs/TDBF2_s0uE0/s320/CIMG0963.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and inside the Forbidden City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-279977232291894359?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/279977232291894359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=279977232291894359' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/279977232291894359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/279977232291894359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/if-you-think-turtles-are-cute-how-about.html' title='If you think turtles are cute, how about turtles with head of dragon?  They are everywhere...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEROtuud_I/AAAAAAAABb0/Ifxe9qzVqo0/s72-c/CIMG0746.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-59618203519841323</id><published>2009-03-30T13:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:18:52.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My first picture taken inside the Forbidden City is a sign that warns  against vandalism</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdENDAcuXPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/C24m2EEdS74/s1600-h/CIMG0884-732278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdENDAcuXPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/C24m2EEdS74/s320/CIMG0884-732278.JPG"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319046980212514034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mind you, the grammar is correct.  But nobody speaks this way.  And this sign is everywhere inside the Forbidden City.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;It always amazes me that folks cannot seem to find other folks that can properly translate a language into another language. I believe even if you go on Yahoo! Answers and ask your language translation questions, lots of native speakers (or people who have mastered the said foreign language) will help you out, for free!&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-59618203519841323?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/59618203519841323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=59618203519841323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/59618203519841323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/59618203519841323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-first-picture-taken-inside-forbidden.html' title='My first picture taken inside the Forbidden City is a sign that warns  against vandalism'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdENDAcuXPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/C24m2EEdS74/s72-c/CIMG0884-732278.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8119573639110337028</id><published>2009-03-30T13:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:12:47.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you want to have your wedding picture taken with Chairman Mao? Apparently lots of newly weds do.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdELbTZ-NII/AAAAAAAABbU/HxUzwX1I25g/s1600-h/CIMG0999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319045198594847874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdELbTZ-NII/AAAAAAAABbU/HxUzwX1I25g/s320/CIMG0999.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8119573639110337028?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8119573639110337028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8119573639110337028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8119573639110337028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8119573639110337028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/would-you-want-to-have-your-wedding.html' title='Would you want to have your wedding picture taken with Chairman Mao? Apparently lots of newly weds do.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdELbTZ-NII/AAAAAAAABbU/HxUzwX1I25g/s72-c/CIMG0999.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3358488687193669824</id><published>2009-03-30T13:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:09:09.489-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Speaking of tourist trap, how about let's just forgo all pretenses, and admit that this is all for commercialism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEKtzES_0I/AAAAAAAABbM/nzfn6mnC9Os/s1600-h/CIMG1037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319044416819887938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEKtzES_0I/AAAAAAAABbM/nzfn6mnC9Os/s320/CIMG1037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and souvenir shopping is the main reason why you are all here?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The exhibit of the Emperor Sedan is now directly inside this souvenir shop. Pay and you get to have a picture taken with it, up close and personal. Pay more you get to move to the left side, where you can dress up and the Emperor and the Empress and have your picture taken on a replica throne. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3358488687193669824?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3358488687193669824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3358488687193669824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3358488687193669824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3358488687193669824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/speaking-of-tourist-trap-how-about-lets.html' title='Speaking of tourist trap, how about let&apos;s just forgo all pretenses, and admit that this is all for commercialism'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEKtzES_0I/AAAAAAAABbM/nzfn6mnC9Os/s72-c/CIMG1037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7442420985131390250</id><published>2009-03-30T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T12:13:26.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird Nest in Beijing: A sad sight in contrast to its glory during 2008 Olympics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD78GfWREI/AAAAAAAABYI/-Up903nMFH0/s1600-h/China+3+2009+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319028169877374018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD78GfWREI/AAAAAAAABYI/-Up903nMFH0/s320/China+3+2009+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD05gdkygI/AAAAAAAABYA/WzZRDlEfpoo/s1600-h/China+3+2009+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD05Nf1-vI/AAAAAAAABX4/nLaspt9cyHQ/s1600-h/China+3+2009+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319020423637498610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD05Nf1-vI/AAAAAAAABX4/nLaspt9cyHQ/s320/China+3+2009+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD04wjUoBI/AAAAAAAABXw/VfxNYNYo5iU/s1600-h/China+3+2009+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319020415867461650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD04wjUoBI/AAAAAAAABXw/VfxNYNYo5iU/s320/China+3+2009+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The official name for the Olympic Stadium in Beijing IS Bird Nest. It is NOT just a nick name. Chinese people justifiably feel pride in this world's largest steel structure. Groups after groups of domestic visitors lovingly crowd around the dirty, not-well-maintained mascots to have their pictures taken.  I am hoping that China will soon find a great use for this symbol of national pride and save it from neglect and disrepair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7442420985131390250?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7442420985131390250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7442420985131390250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7442420985131390250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7442420985131390250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/bird-nest-in-beijing-sad-sight-in.html' title='Bird Nest in Beijing: A sad sight in contrast to its glory during 2008 Olympics'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdD78GfWREI/AAAAAAAABYI/-Up903nMFH0/s72-c/China+3+2009+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6836473633748322668</id><published>2009-03-30T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T11:25:41.961-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We got a picture of Chairman Mao @ Tian An Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Because my kid said, "I know him, he is famous! Andy Warhol painted that picture!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDws223ZHI/AAAAAAAABXY/fM69vFmDoJ0/s1600-h/China+3+2009+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319015813355103346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDws223ZHI/AAAAAAAABXY/fM69vFmDoJ0/s320/China+3+2009+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking at Tian An Men square. Because it is on a Saturday morning, the crowd is larger than usual. The entire square is covered with people. Being there with two kids by myself, I didn't even attempt going into the Forbidden City that day, which is right behind the picture of Chairman Mao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDwt-DatFI/AAAAAAAABXo/MPDWOC2WXmQ/s1600-h/China+3+2009+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319015832466666578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDwt-DatFI/AAAAAAAABXo/MPDWOC2WXmQ/s320/China+3+2009+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice view we got by me getting "lost" right outside the Tian An Men area,by walking in the opposite direction. I guess it is nearly impossible to miss the long walls and the crowd, therefore the guard from whom I asked for direction looked so confused. "Tian An Men? You mean the Tian An Men ahead where everybody is walking towards to?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes, that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDwtvd31EI/AAAAAAAABXg/X8Z3YeilT9k/s1600-h/China+3+2009+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319015828551095362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDwtvd31EI/AAAAAAAABXg/X8Z3YeilT9k/s320/China+3+2009+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6836473633748322668?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6836473633748322668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6836473633748322668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6836473633748322668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6836473633748322668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/we-got-picture-of-chairman-mao-tian-men.html' title='We got a picture of Chairman Mao @ Tian An Men'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDws223ZHI/AAAAAAAABXY/fM69vFmDoJ0/s72-c/China+3+2009+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3204907710425478577</id><published>2009-03-30T11:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T11:11:58.741-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Air China: Our new favorite airlines</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDuO_CcKYI/AAAAAAAABXQ/mg9SDwIbLFU/s1600-h/China+3+2009+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319013101131803010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDuO_CcKYI/AAAAAAAABXQ/mg9SDwIbLFU/s200/China+3+2009+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDuO8xs9II/AAAAAAAABXI/T91pcHLFZbo/s1600-h/China+3+2009+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319013100524729474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDuO8xs9II/AAAAAAAABXI/T91pcHLFZbo/s200/China+3+2009+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Air China, not to be confused with China Airlines which is the one based in Taiwan, is now my favorite airlines for flying with kids. The individual entertainment center on the seat back includes movies, TV shows, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inflight&lt;/span&gt; information, games, and even a camera showing the view from the bottom of the aircraft. (And yes, wise guy, most of the time, you only see white clouds...) And the movies include kids' movies, and more than one. So many choices I didn't know what to do with them so I decided to listen to the music. That's how overwhelming it was...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was for a mere 3-hour flight. So now I am dreading our flight back to the US on United, which has absolutely nothing. Nothing to entertain the kids. Nothing.  They also now charge $6 for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alcoholic&lt;/span&gt; beverages, so I cannot even booze up now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3204907710425478577?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3204907710425478577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3204907710425478577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3204907710425478577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3204907710425478577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/air-china-our-new-favorite-airlines.html' title='Air China: Our new favorite airlines'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdDuO_CcKYI/AAAAAAAABXQ/mg9SDwIbLFU/s72-c/China+3+2009+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4595628488910130670</id><published>2009-03-30T10:35:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T13:03:00.932-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a fan'/><title type='text'>The Legend of Kung Fu: cheesy, cliché yet awesome. Like all best scenes from all kung fu movies condensed into 1.5 hours awesomeness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDm0r4MFqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/UZq6E9VUCxs/s1600-h/photo-746696.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319004952730539682" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDm0r4MFqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/UZq6E9VUCxs/s320/photo-746696.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;It is 1.5 hour of sheer awesomeness if you love this kind of stuff. To say the least, these folks have a lot of years of training and practice under their belt. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;AND, the narration (there is a storyline) is done in ENGLISH. Yes, English, with Chinese captions. At first, the abrupt switch to English gave me pause about the tourist-trap nature of the show, but the excellent combination of acrobatics, ballet, and various styles of Chinese kung fu (really) and martial arts won me over.  Although they could have done without the red lanterns in the theatre, I am definitely a fan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;If you are in Beijing, and you don't mind some Las Vegas show biz, esp. if you are traveling with boys (and men who are boys at heart), then you have to check this show out. The Red Theatre where this show is on every day of the week is in the same area of the Temple of Heaven, so plan your day accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEHyoj2HWI/AAAAAAAABbE/ql3z7PMM7F8/s1600-h/CIMG1073.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This picture was taken during curtain call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEHyFN8llI/AAAAAAAABa8/qNhAOZomA_c/s1600-h/CIMG1071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319041191876793938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SdEHyFN8llI/AAAAAAAABa8/qNhAOZomA_c/s320/CIMG1071.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since we were rule-abiding people and did not take pictures when the show was on. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4595628488910130670?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4595628488910130670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4595628488910130670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4595628488910130670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4595628488910130670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/legend-of-kung-fu-cheesy-cliche-yet.html' title='The Legend of Kung Fu: cheesy, cliché yet awesome. Like all best scenes from all kung fu movies condensed into 1.5 hours awesomeness'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDm0r4MFqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/UZq6E9VUCxs/s72-c/photo-746696.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-47426193709068006</id><published>2009-03-30T10:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T10:27:04.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't know why, but we think turtles are adorable</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDkyFyj-TI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7tkmA3xyGik/s1600-h/photo-724390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDkyFyj-TI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7tkmA3xyGik/s320/photo-724390.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319002709123397938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-47426193709068006?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/47426193709068006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=47426193709068006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/47426193709068006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/47426193709068006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/dont-know-why-but-we-think-turtles-are.html' title='Don&apos;t know why, but we think turtles are adorable'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDkyFyj-TI/AAAAAAAAAGE/7tkmA3xyGik/s72-c/photo-724390.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-3769134797887503379</id><published>2009-03-30T10:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T10:20:52.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Forbidden City: emperor's "office chair"</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDjVERv-BI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TfLwSt-4gbQ/s1600-h/photo-752696.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDjVERv-BI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TfLwSt-4gbQ/s320/photo-752696.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319001110989502482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-3769134797887503379?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/3769134797887503379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=3769134797887503379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3769134797887503379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/3769134797887503379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/forbidden-city-emperors-office-chair.html' title='The Forbidden City: emperor&apos;s &quot;office chair&quot;'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SdDjVERv-BI/AAAAAAAAAF8/TfLwSt-4gbQ/s72-c/photo-752696.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6608805539965888404</id><published>2009-03-27T10:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T20:59:50.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Westin In Beijing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2CnuYDK-I/AAAAAAAABXA/vpffTfOFKnI/s1600-h/westin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318050353969834978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2CnuYDK-I/AAAAAAAABXA/vpffTfOFKnI/s320/westin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Westin in Beijing (on Financial Street between Changan Avenue West &amp;amp; Wudinghou Street) looks just like any other Westin in big cities, completely with a upper scale shopping mall right across the street (the kind with a super market and a food court in the basement even!) The only thing that reminded us that we are no longer in Kansas is the fact that a Quart tub of Ben &amp;amp; Jerry costs over $10!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self: Eat a lot of ice cream once we get home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a sucker for great bathrooms so I am very happy with this Westin. I believe the bathroom is as big as an average-sized dorm room, at least the one I had in grad school...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sczumtdz1lI/AAAAAAAAAF0/RWZPIJ4vJTY/s1600-h/photo-794787.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2CCJoDi6I/AAAAAAAABW4/SotleocosO4/s1600-h/photo+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318049708449696674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2CCJoDi6I/AAAAAAAABW4/SotleocosO4/s320/photo+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2B4_4jQMI/AAAAAAAABWw/zL1u5U3FpGo/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318049551215706306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2B4_4jQMI/AAAAAAAABWw/zL1u5U3FpGo/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This shows how much a country bumpkin we are: we thought the blinds for the glass between the bathroom and the room are broken, and I was quite puzzled by this single neglect by this great hotel. Turns out, it is motorized!  The kids had too much fun with it before I yelled at them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now we need to go out and find our first McDonald's in Beijing.  Sigh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe we will wind our way to Tian An Men Square &amp;amp; the Forbidden City which is only 2 or 3 stops away from this Westin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6608805539965888404?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6608805539965888404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6608805539965888404' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6608805539965888404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6608805539965888404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/westin-in-beijing.html' title='Westin In Beijing'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/Sc2CnuYDK-I/AAAAAAAABXA/vpffTfOFKnI/s72-c/westin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-9191916143932149852</id><published>2009-03-26T10:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:40:41.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A great yet little known Taiwanese-style restaurant in Taipei</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Scuh-aviVfI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j393oB60pcc/s1600-h/photo-741418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Scuh-aviVfI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j393oB60pcc/s320/photo-741418.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317521878743668210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did not know about this tiny gem of a restaurant until my girlfriend from college took me there last night. &lt;a href="http://taipeitravel.net/user/article.aspx?Lang=2&amp;amp;SNo=05001709"&gt;Lu Sang&lt;/a&gt; restaurant in Yongkang Street may strike you as yet another roadside Japanese restaurant in Taipei from outside because of its bamboo-focused decor, but a quick peek inside, the modernized traditional-style tables and chairs will tell you that this is a restaurant for Taiwanese food.  Great Taiwanese dishes with ingenuous twists. Experiments that actually worked. &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;We tried miso tripe, baked pumpkins, deep fried Japanese tofu. All were done with great aplomb. Kudos to the chef really. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-9191916143932149852?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/9191916143932149852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=9191916143932149852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9191916143932149852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/9191916143932149852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/great-yet-little-known-taiwanese-style.html' title='A great yet little known Taiwanese-style restaurant in Taipei'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Scuh-aviVfI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j393oB60pcc/s72-c/photo-741418.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-1791759839386625031</id><published>2009-03-26T10:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:02:15.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Best scallion pancake in Taipei</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ScuY91YvXmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/8FwvH2ajy9Q/s1600-h/photo-735056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ScuY91YvXmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/8FwvH2ajy9Q/s320/photo-735056.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317511973111291490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you are in Taipei, you need to seek out &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_onion_pancake"&gt;scallion pancakes&lt;/a&gt; no matter where you are.&amp;nbsp; Chances are, they are good.&amp;nbsp;But if you are adventurous and are a foodie, then you need to make a track to 永康街 Yongkang Street.&amp;nbsp; This stand is at the corner of a building, on the first floor of a Vietnamese restaurant. And there is always a line.&amp;nbsp; I was there at 11 pm last night, and there was a line!&amp;nbsp; On a Wednesday night!&amp;nbsp; No wonder I am always so bored in the suburbs...&amp;nbsp; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-1791759839386625031?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/1791759839386625031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=1791759839386625031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1791759839386625031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/1791759839386625031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/best-scallion-pancake-in-taipei.html' title='Best scallion pancake in Taipei'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/ScuY91YvXmI/AAAAAAAAAFk/8FwvH2ajy9Q/s72-c/photo-735056.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7534425238524996332</id><published>2009-03-18T10:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T10:02:15.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
"Gashapon", cheap souvenirs for kids, sort of like pressed pennies...  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, maybe not really like Press Pennie. But in spirit, just like pressed pennies, these &amp;quot;toys in a plastic egg&amp;quot; thingy are low-cost souvenirs that get my kids motivated.  They are called &lt;em&gt;Gashapon&lt;/em&gt; in Japanese and are everywhere we go, and the varieties are impressive, so is the quality.  Only that, as you could see, some of the toys may get the not-so-young crowd motivated as well, albeit for completely different things...  &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Can&amp;#39;t imagine anything like this to be mixed up with Hello Kitty and Winnie the Pooh...  Asia is a place where, whichever way you turn, you stare at paradox right in the face.  &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/huVgQoBaydiIpKfLwGSNHhPPNnbyDKkO2mn6HH0maY8ncOQDOGSdW3aRpJnI/egg_toys.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/MGvVbWxDBfLLMrthzLRq4TyJEIE4R2gAEp9qMATjCkvt4Qz8SGIHUyYfoJiy/egg_toys.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/cP3f6YawWN9MpUA14rxH3xM4aLCDtTl8ITnUyhhKnLLhcOQ7wsSYsnW6psy0/girly_egg_toys.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/A6EXY9c1crMvngUOZ6NGKMUVcsDi0XUNLZMl95A53DoYfW8fhtwEjWLFgljn/girly_egg_toys.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;a href='http://submom.posterous.com/gashapon-cheap-souvenirs-for-k'&gt;See and download the full gallery on posterous&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/gashapon-cheap-souvenirs-for-k"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7534425238524996332?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7534425238524996332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7534425238524996332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7534425238524996332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7534425238524996332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/cheap-souvenirs-for-kids-sort-of-like.html' title='&#xA;&amp;quot;Gashapon&amp;quot;, cheap souvenirs for kids, sort of like pressed pennies...  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8368869777329062263</id><published>2009-03-18T03:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T03:27:11.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
Corporate Sponsorship at Its Finest... Microsoft invading school?  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/bUn7bTZSo6Jb6Au2pgvgQk2Tlnk2IOO9sCA7VWSh1DJBOG0pffrtz6a794Jj/CIMG0088.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/w5PUoY2EXVxxc0kUPJswLdgmD1g9D4WWoFaQoWvpQZTDSunRbMaalhCgPXzG/CIMG0088.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Saw this sign outside of a high school that we past by and was amused.  Folks are probably simply happy that their kids are using the latest computers at school, but I cannot help but feel mildly concerned...  (That&amp;#39;s also a sign I spent way too much time reading the anti-MS talks on the bulletin board at work...)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/corporate-sponsorship-at-its-f"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8368869777329062263?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8368869777329062263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8368869777329062263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8368869777329062263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8368869777329062263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/corporate-sponsorship-at-its-finest.html' title='&#xA;Corporate Sponsorship at Its Finest... Microsoft invading school?  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-509821476651265836</id><published>2009-03-18T03:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T03:12:15.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
What the hack is this? The simple plant that inspired so many 	jokes...  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/OLlAw6TlYkLDZNiXLObRkYuZ9Qjarnar5L2hmlfhsRFUhpxjqWs5HVxleMPl/Wasabi.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/XpcCEvAXXxYWPuntgEoHx4VNq4iB709r9tlt5cgYjuda1rDo7oDnFgI8YK1t/Wasabi.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="496"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;After my son posted with the REAL plant from which Wasabi is made from, he was horrified when we came up with many nicknames for the said plant...&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Somehow I doubt he would include the picture with him holding this in his scrapbook for this trip which is to be shared with his classmates upon his return... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/what-the-hack-is-this-the-simp"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-509821476651265836?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/509821476651265836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=509821476651265836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/509821476651265836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/509821476651265836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-hack-is-this-simple-plant-that.html' title='&#xA;What the hack is this? The simple plant that inspired so many &#x9;jokes...  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4638498934642889618</id><published>2009-03-18T02:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T02:54:47.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>
The HOT Netbook, aka my son's new toy...  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/EHdxdmeUJ54NFYVyHMyzaEYe8F8pM1abtpkkRwHuyxp37VIEYyH9d77k3EGb/netbook.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/nJ7HLyHAA3zifsjMHYWW7TFPFY91cck0vcIzItV5QzDgfVzTQPebJ1Kbhrkb/netbook.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" height="500"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right after I finished reading the article in &lt;em&gt;Wired&lt;/em&gt;, &amp;quot;&lt;a href="http://www.wired.com/gadgets/wireless/magazine/17-03/mf_netbooks?currentPage=all"&gt;The Netbook Effect: How Cheap Little Laptops Hit the Big Time&lt;/a&gt;&amp;quot; in the latest issue, my nephew called me and said, &amp;quot;I have bought two netbooks for my cousins!&amp;quot; Apparently, these are the hottest &amp;quot;accessories&amp;quot; in Asia, since almost everybody has an iPhone now.  (Not in Japan though, despite the &amp;quot;&lt;a href="http://apple.slashdot.org/article.pl?sid=09/03/01/1358233&amp;amp;from=rss"&gt;controversy&lt;/a&gt;&amp;quot;, I have been told by a few folks in Taipei that Japanese for some reason are not going gaga over iPhone, unlike people here in Taiwan...)  &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Granted that the netbooks my kids got, at 4GB, would be considered a joke, my kids absolutely LOVE their new &amp;quot;toys.&amp;quot;  &lt;a href="http://eeepc.asus.com/global/products.html?n=0"&gt;Asus Eee PC&lt;/a&gt; costs just a bit more than Nintendo DS here. No processing power to speak of, nevertheless, perfectly fine for surfing the web. &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;Although I thought about whether it is a good parenting choice to let my kids consider YouTube as just another standard entertainment channel, I feel optimistic about Pros weighing more than Cons: my 6-year-old boy googled the weather in Beijing on his own when I wondered out loud, &amp;quot;Hmm, I hope we don&amp;#39;t need jackets when we go to Beijing,&amp;quot; &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here is another prediction about this phenom: Soon Oxford Dictionary will add &amp;quot;netbook&amp;quot; as one of the new English words.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/the-hot-netbook-aka-my-sons-ne"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4638498934642889618?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4638498934642889618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4638498934642889618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4638498934642889618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4638498934642889618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/hot-netbook-aka-my-son-new-toy.html' title='&#xA;The HOT Netbook, aka my son&amp;#39;s new toy...  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6324603352754211006</id><published>2009-03-13T22:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T12:03:35.248-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Driving myself nuts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='be nice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is it just me?'/><title type='text'>Rising to the Challenge: trying to explain why I don't watch Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sbsf0xlZlVI/AAAAAAAAAFc/55RUWScnU2k/s1600-h/031309_20431-747297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312875176937493842" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sbsf0xlZlVI/AAAAAAAAAFc/55RUWScnU2k/s320/031309_20431-747297.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dear Mr. Gleeson,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this sounds like a cop out to you, but here is a short, incompletely researched response to your question to which I have not responded to. But I have other duties to tend to, such as packing for our long trip to Asia which commences tomorrow, (Here is a picture as proof), finishing my work (unfortunately, I am one of those women that are "uppity" and need to prove themselves), and taking care of my children (hence the second part in my Twitter ID "Submom"). Anyway, enough with the violin in the background...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I am never an avid fan of any TV shows... On second thought, I do recall not being able to sleep when the BBC TV series, "Jane Eyre", was on many years ago. Kind of silly, I know, since everybody knows the plot already. But Timothy Dalton was quite dreamy as Mr. Rochester. By the way, what happened to the guy? Anyway, I digress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was I? Oh, yes, I can understand your demand for a proof for my accusation that the writers of Lost have been known to change the plot when one of the mysteries was "figured out" and became public consensus through the many fan sites. I swear that I have come across an article talking about this, quite a few years ago, otherwise I would not have formulated such an impression since I do not watch the show. None at all. For those who simply came upon this blog post of mine without knowing the back story of why I am writing this post, please curb your anger. Yes, I know I should not be talking about a show I have not even seen. It's a long story. Suffice to say that on Twitter, I made such a bold confession: that &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/submom/status/1318556663" target="_blank"&gt;I Hate Lost&lt;/a&gt;. The claim was made partly in jest as one of the random cyber vents I send out via Twitter: "You Know What I Hate?" If you are familiar with Mad TV, you know the bit I modeled this on. The audience is supposed to say, "WHAT?" with much glee and anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it all went downhill from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't mean to do this to garner attention, you know, the way how some people yell out obscenity for attention. Some other Twitterers responded and asked me Why? I then responded, because I was brought up with good manners. All in the name of trying to explain why me, personally, do not, and will not, spend my time watching Lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I get the irony of me spending time Twittering and writing this blog. But you have your guilty pleasure, and I have mine. Live and let live, they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I was flattered that someone even cared about why I do not like Lost, won't even give it a try, No Sirree. I now feel compelled to give them a good reason. I am by no means a good writer. Please bear with me here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I cannot present you with the article tonight because Google failed me. When I typed in the keywords, "Lost Writers Changed Plot Fans Speculation", BOOM! the search engine came back with articles after articles, blogs after blogs, posts after posts, analyses, interviews, on Lost and its writers. It was like I opened Pandora's Box! And I promise you that I will continue trying. I am a researcher at heart, and I am as of now obsessed with finding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's really interesting is that I came across quite a few articles that talked about how the Lost writers made up the plot(s) and mysteries as they went along, twist after twist (i.e. what I call "upper hand" over the audience which got your goat) especially in the previous seasons. So that pointed to the same direction as my said "grievance", to a certain degree. What I also found interesting is that even the writers themselves are finally realizing the entire alternative universe that they have created has taken on a life of its own. A new ecosystem separate from its creators. The collective force of the fans is larger than the writers themselves: through the Interweb, the fans have conjured up ,multiple universes more immense than what the writers have envisioned in the writers' room. I am especially fascinated by these two articles: one about &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/18/arts/television/18wyat.html?pagewanted=1&amp;amp;_r=1&amp;amp;sq=lost%20script%20co-ordinator&amp;amp;st=cse&amp;amp;scp=1"&gt;continuity of the "mythology"&lt;/a&gt; and the other one about "&lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/life/television/news/2008-05-28-lost-time-space_N.htm"&gt;time-space continuum&lt;/a&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For Mr. Nation's dilemma for keeping all threads accounted for and untangled, I would like to suggest a relational database. Not a joke. In fact, the George Lucas empire does just that for the Star Wars ecosystem: with its own "&lt;a href="http://www.wired.com/entertainment/hollywood/magazine/16-09/ff_starwarscanon"&gt;Continuity department&lt;/a&gt;")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All brainy stuff. Great for debates and discussions, preferably after a pint or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, if I were still in school, the analysis of the universe within Lost the Show and the meta-universe of Lost the Fandom as a way to understand how the Internet has changed how popular culture is shaped would be the subject of my dissertation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing how I have left school a long time ago, I will not spend my time on the show. Sorry. It requires too much investment on the part of the audience, perhaps that is where you and I differ fundamentally as TV watchers. I am the "brain-dead" type. I do not want to get sucked into a fictional world that is striving to be as complicated as the real world (albeit in very different ways) that I have to constantly worry about what is going to happen now and agonize over the fact that I cannot figure the mysteries out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry too much as is. As for puzzles, I have my Sudoku and Crossword puzzles. Or my pre-teen boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I stand by the point that it is hypocritical that men (yes, mostly men) laugh at women for treating soap opera characters as if they were real live people, while they discuss incessantly about what is going to happen to which group on the show Lost.  I just have to laugh.  Not passing judgement here. Just sayin' that if you think one scenario is ridiculous, then you have to take a good look at the other scenario.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not a Lost Fan&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6324603352754211006?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6324603352754211006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6324603352754211006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6324603352754211006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6324603352754211006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/rising-up-to-challenge-trying-to.html' title='Rising to the Challenge: trying to explain why I don&apos;t watch Lost'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sbsf0xlZlVI/AAAAAAAAAFc/55RUWScnU2k/s72-c/031309_20431-747297.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5642088154870314815</id><published>2009-03-07T19:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T19:45:56.415-06:00</updated><title type='text'>
Enos @ Intercontinental Chicago  </title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Wine with chocolate. Need I say more?&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/INq4KbI5RefN8OnQ5VEuE0CBfCqrlqUY4gDKGOx7TFNyoD2W4DsU5N3NXfs9/photo.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/4t0ZD3BHDYcbzOYgJpiic8dSVxEnZa6mFqxn2iIoo1INvnGqlGNNS5eYsVGE/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" height="500"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sent from my iPhone&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://posterous.com"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt;   from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/enos-intercontinental-chicago"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5642088154870314815?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5642088154870314815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5642088154870314815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5642088154870314815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5642088154870314815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/enos-intercontinental-chicago.html' title='&#xA;Enos @ Intercontinental Chicago  '/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-5542100379193079212</id><published>2009-03-04T19:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:31:33.671-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recession'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Washington D.C.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Financial Crisis'/><title type='text'>Will "Irresponsible Homeowners" step out of the room so we can all move on?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote class="posterous_short_quote"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VO6DORwBzuA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VO6DORwBzuA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" allowscriptaccess="always" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="posterous_quote_citation"&gt;via &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO6DORwBzuA"&gt;youtube.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;So the Treasury Department today released the details for HARP "Home Affordable Refinance Program" &amp;amp; HAMP "Home Affordable Modification Program". The title of this press release is "&lt;a href="http://www.treas.gov/news/index1.html"&gt;Relief for Responsible Homeowners&lt;/a&gt;". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Drum roll please... Apparently, the plan is NOT going to be able to save EVERYBODY. (Actually, the number given today is 7 to 9 million homeowners). To emphasize, the White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs gave this simple message: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"This is not going to save every person's home." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OMG! We didn't expect that! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sarcasm aside, there have been understandably a lot of cries of "What about me?" all over the country. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In order to make folks feel better, Mr. Gibbs said, according to &lt;a href="http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2009/03/04/pm_mortgage_guidelines/"&gt;Kai Ryssdal&lt;/a&gt; on Marketplace, "people who bought homes they clearly could never afford won't get help." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So my question once again is: how are you going to prove and enforce that? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Being a visual person, this is how I envision the scene inside my head: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(In contrast to the Nextel commercial shown here) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chairperson: Will the Irresponsible Homeowners please stand up and get out of the room so we can all move on? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cricket chirping. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chairperson: Anybody? Bueller? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Homeowners look at each other angrily. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chairperson: Nobody? &lt;p&gt;Now, this is a commercial that Nextel will not be making. Ever.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via web&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/will-irresponsible-homeowners-0"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-5542100379193079212?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/5542100379193079212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=5542100379193079212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5542100379193079212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/5542100379193079212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/will-homeowners-step-out-of-room-so-we_04.html' title='Will &amp;quot;Irresponsible Homeowners&amp;quot; step out of the room so we can all move on?'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8378290609240033912</id><published>2009-03-04T18:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:42:40.822-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bad Mommy Alert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Word Whammer is fun for mommy too!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/E0IQhacLEvQuCmQv0S9x79BFDEBmOuBttNdo9oLeqFett52qPab2irCdjlbT/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="375" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/AB6F16wL4qMAt5HVLTjkZmynq4qJMDSDyccGBURhyKwIEBtTSreL6bmgwviz/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Actually, my 11 year-old did this, though he denied it. I was laughing so hard when I noticed this I couldn't properly reprimand him. Who knows how long the word has been up on the refrigerator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, this is how you curse *properly* with Word Whammer... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/word-whammer-is-fun-for-mommy"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8378290609240033912?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8378290609240033912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8378290609240033912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8378290609240033912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8378290609240033912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/word-whammer-is-fun-for-mommy-too.html' title='Word Whammer is fun for mommy too!'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8463909046434870548</id><published>2009-03-04T15:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:41:59.326-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Economist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random facts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Web 2.0'/><title type='text'>From The Economist: It's not 42. It's 148. The magic number for  social networks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa7zWbZyv2I/AAAAAAAAAFU/20gGBIUlNMA/s1600-h/grooming-729403.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309448577355005794" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa7zWbZyv2I/AAAAAAAAAFU/20gGBIUlNMA/s320/grooming-729403.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Even on the Interweb, we cannot escape our evolutionary past. According to &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://is.gd/kZsW"&gt;The Economist&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt; article: "Primates on Facebook", some of things that we do to/for each other on the social networks over the Internet can still be defined as "Grooming": you need to ping your peeps, follow up on their status, read their Tweets, comment on their Tweets, reply to their Wall because they have left something on yours.  These all take time.  So does monkeys' grooming each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while back ago, Dr. Robin Dunbar concluded that our brains simply cannot support a social network with unlimited size: think of having to memorize all the names! Probably only Mr. Monk will be able to do that, but of course, he probably has the tiniest social network known to man...  Irony, isn't it?  Anyway, Dr. Dunbar suggested that the magic number of network limit any animal will be able to maintain is: 148. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though in the virtual world, it seems that we can grow our social networks indefinitely, to a certain extent obviously (say, like, 6 billion, the number of entire population...), the average number of "Friends" on Facebook turns out to be 120.  And the number of Friends with which Facebookers interact with on a regular basis by leaving comments on their "Wall" is even smaller: 7.  That's it.  For men.  Women are more social, 10. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even for Facebookers that have more than 500 friends, the number remains relatively low at 17 for men, and 26 for women. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a nice way of explaining this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"[P]eople who are members of online social networks are not so much 'networking' as they are 'broadcasting their lives to an outer tier of acquaintances who aren't necessarily inside the Dunbar circle'...  Humans may be advertising themselves more efficiently. But they still have the same small circles of intimacy as ever." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This also concisely explains what a "social network" such as Twitter represents for a lot of its users, or Tweeple, as they call themselves.  Only that it is even beyond the "outer tier of acquaintances", all the way into the nether.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8463909046434870548?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8463909046434870548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8463909046434870548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8463909046434870548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8463909046434870548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/from-economist-its-not-42-its-148-magic.html' title='From The Economist: It&apos;s not 42. It&apos;s 148. The magic number for  social networks.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa7zWbZyv2I/AAAAAAAAAFU/20gGBIUlNMA/s72-c/grooming-729403.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-8307809724153780953</id><published>2009-03-03T10:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:40:21.039-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my youngest'/><title type='text'>Life seen thru a Kinder: Subway is now a form of measurement</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa1ZODR3ziI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Y__gPLNenGU/s1600-h/subway-5-dollar-footlong-736478.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308997633672990242" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa1ZODR3ziI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Y__gPLNenGU/s320/subway-5-dollar-footlong-736478.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Somebody should give the gal or guy who is in charge of Subway's "5 Dollar Foot Long" marketing campaign a raise.  Oh, whatever. They are probably making a ton anyway. I don't worry about their financial health really. But when you see a genius move done by a corporation, that seems to be the right thing to say, even though the people may already be up to their ears in stock options. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what my Kindergartener said last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MOM! I am 48 inches tall.  I am &lt;em&gt;FOUR &lt;/em&gt;SUBWAY FOOTLONG!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-8307809724153780953?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/8307809724153780953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=8307809724153780953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8307809724153780953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/8307809724153780953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/life-seen-thru-kinder-subway-is-now.html' title='Life seen thru a Kinder: Subway is now a form of measurement'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/Sa1ZODR3ziI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Y__gPLNenGU/s72-c/subway-5-dollar-footlong-736478.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-290459322089920403</id><published>2009-03-01T14:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:39:54.219-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Manuel for Parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My 5th grader'/><title type='text'>Report from the burbs: Survived sleepover, mom vowed to never say yes  again, until next time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/UsviKwJCCUs13BVCd0QndtrSbaIWNBzsGqMspbsQ99RJAzVIk9zs3NDqAH3z/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/IWLFCGyL24qCGmlD1K2RLsDt2RhgxraqzKVhKlosPBviYGu85jDRBiJle1sj/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys stayed up until who knows when. I slipped into oblivion at 2 am. They were playing "Truth or Dare" but soon skipped "Truth" completely and went straight to "Dare".  At 11 years of age, their "Dares" were, eh, quite lame. Not that I am complaining though. Ask me again 2 years from now, I am sure I would be guarding his bedroom door with a taser...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/report-from-the-burbs-survived"&gt;The Absence of Alternatives&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-290459322089920403?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/290459322089920403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=290459322089920403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/290459322089920403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/290459322089920403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/report-from-burbs-survived-sleepover.html' title='Report from the burbs: Survived sleepover, mom vowed to never say yes  again, until next time.'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-7275579763339610062</id><published>2009-02-28T23:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:38:51.203-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a fan'/><title type='text'>An Ode to Nickel City, arcade the way you remember (and want) it</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/W6oKjQsv8vmFxE6gKNGK9pbHnFFugP28nHJGB60a7MpupGbCAb4XhISXq5Oh/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/sfmKaJtnrVhTjPrDIoRMcZvniXa7U3Gwt9sLanor81OZJXypCUwBZoet9iZ4/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There is NO scary mascots, no company team building events, no overblown space stuffed with TABLES &amp;amp; BARS.  Just a good old-fashioned penny (albeit nickel) arcade the way you remember it from your childhood, IF you are old enough.  FREE classic games in the back of the room completes this little piece of heaven.  Is that Pac-Man I see?  Yes, I do suck at the game, that's why FREE is just perfect for me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/an-ode-to-nickel-city-arcade-t"&gt;submom's posterous&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-7275579763339610062?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/7275579763339610062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=7275579763339610062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7275579763339610062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/7275579763339610062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/ode-to-nickel-city-arcade-way-you.html' title='An Ode to Nickel City, arcade the way you remember (and want) it'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-4019773955045364155</id><published>2009-02-28T23:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:37:25.873-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marketing at work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I am a fan'/><title type='text'>A flower for Joey Roth, the designer of Sorapot</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/by2mcnLURwuTb2ysjEu9YVgaptPoy6Ws6sG4WfEUw7uqpgmB2ppnPRc5Ze1g/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/1Lh7VagDVWkKp2ZpWw5n1SC1l9RFhC90t0UbpCAYCmGTJTM6z1HleVENGF5c/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Humbleville, Interweb - Local woman awoken from her &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;solipsistic stupor&lt;/span&gt; by designer's sincere, genuine interest in feedback of his creation. Submom received a wake-up call when designer &lt;a href="http://www.joeyroth.com/"&gt;Joey Roth&lt;/a&gt; replied directly to her &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/to-wired-whoever-gave-my-husba"&gt;random vent&lt;/a&gt; of his creation, &lt;a href="http://www.sorapot.com/"&gt;Sorapot&lt;/a&gt;. When asked to reflect more carefully, Submom admitted that she DID enjoy watching the Chinese flower tea bloom in front of her eyes inside the ingeniously designed Sorapot, when she had time to do so.  "The last time I remember when I was able to sit down and relax was the day after Christmas.  I have been on my feet ever since."  Her defense for her unfair criticism?  "I only have one hand now because of my Twitter thumb, and I was getting frustrated last night because you cannot disassemble this teapot with only one hand!"  Submom vowed to refrain from being a spoiled bitch, and to stop and smell, eh, drink the flowers. She compared Mr. Roth's reaction to her complaints to the likes carried out by "Lands' End who has my undying loyalty as a customer." After a pause, Submom said quietly, "Honestly? I didn't think that an artist living in NYC would care about the feelings of a suburban mom. We must seem like philistines..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/a-flower-for-joey-roth-the-des"&gt;submom's posterous&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-4019773955045364155?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/4019773955045364155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=4019773955045364155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4019773955045364155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/4019773955045364155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/flower-for-joey-roth-designer-of.html' title='A flower for Joey Roth, the designer of Sorapot'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6370825594320507189</id><published>2009-02-28T00:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:39:19.809-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trying to do the right thing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pet peeves'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coffee the Elixir'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i am mad'/><title type='text'>To @Wired: Whoever gave my husband the idea that Sorapot, instead of  an IPod</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/M5ppQ2U4cvAPpxdkDTLsEpcXECbKSt7rIrA9Vqyd8C2S8yGPxfgpXlFswihc/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/submom/HSsxtowFw2NnISKRugrnBRXF2bbLK5Yy8nXDtS6l7Y4d8ZR75tSmRkZJPCXt/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;was a good idea for a great Xmas present... is a f** idiot and can come &amp;amp; take it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband's attempt to surprise me at Xmas was a success if he &lt;em&gt;only&lt;/em&gt; meant to surprise me... This "teapot" was an overpriced piece of, eh, paperweight. If you have no intention of washing it, then do NOT get it for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Now can you honestly tell me that it looks just as stylish sitting on my kitchen counter next to my high tech rice cooker, as the air-brushed picture you have shown?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? And you did at least 2 reviews of this last year? The &lt;a href="http://blog.wired.com/gadgets/2008/05/sorapot-teapot.html"&gt;review in May&lt;/a&gt; was not enough for you, and you had to give it another plug again towards year end, AND on the &lt;a href="http://www.wired.com/reviews/product/pr_sorapot_teapot"&gt;2008 Wish List&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband, who, despite my well-known wish of getting an IPod, decided that Sorapot was just as good, if not better. It has been two months now since I am the owner of the most expensive glass teapot in the whole god damn world. Why am I pissed every time I have to gingerly take this thing apart and wash it and then assemble it together? Well, you be the judge! Sorapot or IPod??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-SIZE: 10px"&gt;&lt;a href="http://posterous.com/"&gt;Posted via email&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://submom.posterous.com/to-wired-whoever-gave-my-husba"&gt;submom's posterous&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6370825594320507189?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6370825594320507189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6370825594320507189' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6370825594320507189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6370825594320507189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-wired-whoever-gave-my-husband-idea.html' title='To @Wired: Whoever gave my husband the idea that Sorapot, instead of  an IPod'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6582691780635561805</id><published>2009-02-27T15:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T16:09:14.870-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrities are people too'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Web 2.0'/><title type='text'>Power of Twitter got to @RainnWilson whose followers surpassed 100,000 today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/rainnwilson/status/1259780534"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307595959941717970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SaheZ5uf39I/AAAAAAAABVg/jY3tKFDeolU/s400/RainnWilson+over+100000+followers.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who says that size does not matter? When I first started following Rainn Wilson (of &lt;em&gt;The Office &lt;/em&gt;Dwight the Beet Farmer &amp;amp; B&amp;amp;B Operator fame) on Twitter, he &lt;em&gt;only &lt;/em&gt;had a meagerly 60,000+ followers. And that was like, last week. Here is a Tweet that he just sent out, in celebration of the 100K threshold which his Twitter account just crossed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A job well done. Now he is in the big league, playing with the big players, the likes of Mr. and Mrs. Kutcher. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Wilson actually often has witty and wise things to part with his followers. Like a prophet to his disciples. Well, most of the popular Tweeple have taken on that quality. And I am looking forward to the day when Mr. Wilson's followers reach 200,000 plus. Then I think he will start growing horns with all that power going to his head...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6582691780635561805?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6582691780635561805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6582691780635561805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6582691780635561805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6582691780635561805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/power-of-twitter-got-to-rainnwilson.html' title='Power of Twitter got to @RainnWilson whose followers surpassed 100,000 today...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iW6vCPLdLnw/SaheZ5uf39I/AAAAAAAABVg/jY3tKFDeolU/s72-c/RainnWilson+over+100000+followers.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-6713077466310644530</id><published>2009-02-27T11:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T16:00:57.658-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrities are people too'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='check this out'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='President Obama'/><title type='text'>Celebrities on Twitter: @Stephenfry has the most followers because he rocks!</title><content type='html'>I cannot believe that in my previous post of celebrities that tweet I forgot about Demi Moore. Sorry &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/mrskutcher"&gt;Mrs. Kutcher&lt;/a&gt;. And of course, her lovely, always good to look at, but probably illegal for me to fantasize about because of his young age, &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/aplusk"&gt;Mr. Kutcher.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Combs. How could I have forgotten &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/iamdiddy"&gt;Mr. Diddy&lt;/a&gt;? Yes, indeed, you are Diddy. THE Diddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, Ooops I did it again. I forgot yet again our lovely &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/britneyspears"&gt;Ms. Spears&lt;/a&gt;. She has &lt;strong&gt;230,328&lt;/strong&gt; followers as of this moment. Amazing! But it does not seem that she does tweet herself. Sometimes. But not always. This cuts down on the fun exponentially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My NEW fav? &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/stephenfry"&gt;Stephen Fry&lt;/a&gt;. Mr. Fry has truly embraced the Web 2.0 social media phenom. If you cannot beat them, you join them. And do a much better, top-notch job. I wonder whether that's the Brit spirit at work. He is constantly taking and sending pics to &lt;a href="http://twitpic.com/1q5q5"&gt;Twitpic&lt;/a&gt;, so that we could live his celebrated life vicariously. Thanks much, man! You rock! You will never see this post, but a true fan will not mind. And keep up the good work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of now, Mr. Fry has &lt;strong&gt;241,247&lt;/strong&gt; followers. Please please please. &lt;a href="http://twitterholic.com/"&gt;Keep your lead position&lt;/a&gt;. When Ms. Spears has more followers than you do, then we know the world is going to the loos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p.s. &lt;a href="http://twitterholic.com/"&gt;Twitterholic&lt;/a&gt; tracks popularity of Tweeple. Check it out. It serves as a barometer of our times. Me thinks. Prez Obama, naturally has the lead. He is the World Lead so he has to win at every single competition... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-6713077466310644530?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/6713077466310644530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=6713077466310644530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6713077466310644530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/6713077466310644530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/celebrities-on-twitter-stephenfry-has.html' title='Celebrities on Twitter: @Stephenfry has the most followers because he rocks!'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4029363033696432351.post-2308582419638332803</id><published>2009-02-26T16:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T17:19:41.092-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrities are people too'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from the Onion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yes I am a dork'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boredom buster'/><title type='text'>There has been NO way for us common denizens to converse with  celebrities. That is, until Twitter opened the door...</title><content type='html'>This is Twitter's stated mission (or designed usage) on its homepage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Twitter is a service for friends, family, and co–workers to communicate and stay connected through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: &lt;strong&gt;What are you doing?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my observation: most of the people are using Twitter, not to keep their social network updated with what they are doing, how boring would that be? but to keep track of what celebrities are doing in real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because they are famous, anything they say seems to carry so much more significance. A one-word Tweet becomes some sort of cypher waiting for you to discover its higher meaning. Their random observations of life are so much more hilarious simply because they are famous -- on the Internet, you cannot argue that it is funny because of the delivery. This is NOT Seinfeld. "Newman!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Speaking of Jerry Seinfeld. Did you hear that he is going to do &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5gGCgaKOJhViGeuWeIYVrEwLqxacQ"&gt;a reality TV show about marriage&lt;/a&gt;? I bet he and his wife are happier than the lot of us because they have a 24-hour nanny...! So what would his advice be? Become really wealthy and then your marriage life would not be bogged down by arguments about who does more when and what...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/rainnwilson"&gt;Rainn Wilson&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/MCHammer"&gt;MC Hammer&lt;/a&gt;. Luke Wilson. Elizabeth Banks. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/jimmyfallon"&gt;Jimmy Fallon&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/neilhimself"&gt;Neil Gaiman&lt;/a&gt; (he WAS already a celebrity in my household, now with the movie Coraline, he IS a celebrity...), &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/levarburton"&gt;LeVar Burton&lt;/a&gt; (of Star Trek fame, Yes, the cool blind dude!, and of Reading Rainbow, eh, fame), &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/THE_REAL_SHAQ"&gt;Shaq&lt;/a&gt; (yes, THE Shaq, under the moniker, The Real Shaq), and I am sure I probably miss quite a few. With some of them tweeting constantly. One cannot help but imagine Rainn Wilson tweeting on his BB in between takes of &lt;em&gt;The Office&lt;/em&gt;. Does he show his Twitter stream to his co-stars? Do they suggest to him what he should tweet next? Do they laugh at clever responses back to @RainnWilson?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, responses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Twitterverse, you, apparently, are allowed to "Reply to" these celebrities' Tweets. And if you are lucky, if your star shines on you, THEY may actually Tweet back @ you. This stuff is what dreams are made of. And the real stuff that the wet dreams are made of? That is when the stars FOLLOW you back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you will be a made man (or woman). You have arrived in the Twitterverse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my brush with fame today with a 10-foot pole:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wil Wheaton, Gordi in &lt;em&gt;Stand by Me&lt;/em&gt;, and also of Star Trek fame, although he probably prefers to be known as one of the Geek gods, a published writer, and a celebrated blogger (see: The Geek Gods), lives in the Twitterverse (again, see: The Geek Gods).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one of his hundreds' of Tweets today, he gushes about The Onion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/wilw/status/1255068133"&gt;"I love the Onion so much, I want to marry it!"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I alerted The Onion about the raging endorsement, The Onion responded with a ringing rejection:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/TheOnion/status/1255526725"&gt;"America's Finest News Source Politely Turns Down Marriage Proposal From @wilw"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My seminal role in this comedic exchange can be proven by the &lt;a href="http://search.twitter.com/search?max_id=1255673402&amp;amp;page=4&amp;amp;q=wilw+theonion"&gt;timeline&lt;/a&gt; shown in the search result, and of course, this picture).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SacbQFXQj1I/AAAAAAAAAFE/s-b1crYc6Hg/s1600-h/TheOnion+rejecting+wilw-756472.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307240649011007314" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SacbQFXQj1I/AAAAAAAAAFE/s-b1crYc6Hg/s320/TheOnion+rejecting+wilw-756472.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;God, I am a loser...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4029363033696432351-2308582419638332803?l=secretinnerlife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/feeds/2308582419638332803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4029363033696432351&amp;postID=2308582419638332803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2308582419638332803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4029363033696432351/posts/default/2308582419638332803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://secretinnerlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/there-has-been-no-way-for-us-common.html' title='There has been NO way for us common denizens to converse with  celebrities. That is, until Twitter opened the door...'/><author><name>The Absence of Alternatives</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05395320989489560756</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/THprZY6cgfI/AAAAAAAAAZs/txGdMY19FWo/S220/Me+too.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jgRy_WSn444/SacbQFXQj1I/AAAAAAAAAFE/s-b1crYc6Hg/s72-c/TheOnion+rejecting+wilw-756472.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
