Searching for my lost shaker of salt...

Words cannot express how happy I am that it is Friday.

Thank God for tequila.

empathy.

"When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Somebody should notice. Somebody should care."

This was said on an old episode of House (wow, look at my scholarly references) by the ever-compassionate Dr. Cameron. The first time I saw this episode, that line made me stop breathing. The context was that Cameron had befriended a terminally ill patient, who was essentially alone in the world, and after Cameron painfully and reluctantly informed her of the diagnosis, Wilson basically asked Cameron why she had even bothered making friends with her. The scene etched itself into my mind and Cameron's fervent sentiment resonated in my ears for days. Such poignant words have a tendency to do that.

I suppose the reason I was so moved by such a line is that I feel like it's something I would say. It's something I have always felt. I remember being frustrated in history classes when I read about tragedies, persecutions, wars. I could read the words, but I couldn't feel the grief. No matter how hard I tried, I would never really understand what the Holocaust was like from a textbook. I could never mourn with the family members of victims; I could never honor their loss with my tears. I found this infuriating.

If I had one wish, I would like to go back in time to all of those history making tragedies and experience the horror for myself, so that I could look people in the eye and tell them I know how they feel. And that it would be okay. On a smaller scale, and one that doesn't require time-traveling, I would like to have perfect empathy. I would like the ability to feel the sorrow of someone else, friend or stranger, completely and purely. I think it's something everyone deserves.

Two summers ago I went to New York City and during my stay I visited Ground Zero. Incidentally, we stumbled upon a small 9/11 memorial museum that was practically hidden, and decided to go in and check it out. It turned out to be one of my favorite parts of the entire trip. Quite suddenly, the awe and horror of that day flooded into my veins, and I started weeping as I saw the debris on display--airplane windows, firefighter jackets, elevator signs. I stared, incredulous, at all of the faces of the missing, my raw throat burning. Far from being a tourist attraction, this was an intense, gripping experience. One that I needed. One that reminded me how similar I am to everyone else. One that, while draining, provided comfort in knowing that I was not alone.

And thus we return to the House episode. Which is more sad, a dying person that everybody loves or a dying person that nobody loves? I won't trivialize such a situation by suggesting an answer, but I will suggest that there is no greater feeling than companionship and the knowledge that you are not alone. Thus, Cameron's role in the aforementioned episode seems particularly heroic to me, and I hope I would do the same if I were in her position.

That's my momma

Here's a quick shout out to my mom, who conducted another Asthma Blow-Out (ha, get it? I didn't...) last night. The Blow-Out is an event for kids with asthma that allows them to talk to and interact with doctors from around the area and other kids who are in similar shoes. Parents come too and learn about the different kinds of medications and treatments; basically, it's a one-stop shop for asthmatics. My mom initiated this event a couple years ago in order to educate all the asthma sufferers in my school district about how they should be controlling their disease. And look where she is, now! Making the prime time news in San Antonio AND Austin. You go girl!!

The videos: (check 'em out!)

http://www.ksat.com/video/21444026/index.html

http://www.kens5.com/video/health-index.html?nvid=409786


And, because of the success of the Asthma Blow-Out, they've also started a Mental Health Blow-Out. Awesome!

Austen, Bronte, Dickens... Philip K. Dick?

We read to know we are not alone. -C.S. Lewis

I saw this article in the NY Times a few weeks ago about a woman who read a different book every day for a year, 365 total, and I must say I think that is a fantastic idea. I might add that to my list of things to do before I die. Of course, this would probably only be feasible once I retire or something, because who has a few extra hours of leisure every day? And I think I'd have to spice it up a bit, like... read a book in a different location every day for a year. Or something. Hmmm.

Speaking of reading, I read a book yesterday that was about, well, reading (I guess you would call that metareading?). The Jane Austen Book Club. I usually frown upon seeing a movie before reading the book, but in this case I unwittingly broke my own rule. I had already seen the movie a while back (not knowing it was based on a book), mainly because I adore Emily Blunt and she was part of the cast. Anyway, the book was much much better, and it actually inspired me to pick up some sci-fi. So now I'm going to check out some Philip K. Dick and Ursula LeGuin. I've actually never read anything in science fiction before, but it's never too late to try, right? You may be asking how a science fiction book could possibly be the next logical choice after something called The Jane Austen Book Club. But you'll just have to read the book to find out!

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

Not really. It's actually bright, balmy, and beautiful.

But November is creeping up which means that autumn is well under way which means that my favorite season (hint: winter) is just around the corner! Actually, because this is Texas, it's more like way down the hall and around three corners, but you get the idea.

Winter for me means... a month of nonstop Christmas carols via my holiday Pandora stations; my birthday; an increase in visits to Starbucks (and a corresponding decrease in available funds in my bank account); red noses and cheeks; and scarves! I can't wait!

On an entirely unrelated note, I saw Capitalism: A Love Story this weekend, which is the new Michael Moore documentary. Now before you start throwing tomatoes, let me just say it was actually pretty interesting. Pushing the excessive liberal undertones aside, he actually made some valid points (let's face it, capitalism runs on greed, which goes against the tenets of Christianity). Nevertheless, I think it would behoove him to make his films a little more balanced... to make his work more credible, if nothing else.

Happy Autumn!

what is the lifespan of a moth?

For days now there has been a moth living in my apartment.

I have decided to make friends with it.

I will not get rid of him because:
a) he is hard to catch and I don't want to touch him,
b) he doesn't deserve a death by Windex,
c) a cute little moth fluttering about never hurt anyone,
and d) I can use the company.

So yes, we're friends now. He prefers to hang out on the living room wall, which is a good location because when I look up from my computer I can spot him immediately and give him a nod of hello.

I'm thinking about giving him a name, but I feel like it might be too soon for that. I'll probably wait and see if he is still alive in a week, and then evaluate possible names.

Some haters out there may be thinking, "Wow, making friends with a moth. That's so sad." But they don't bother me. I mean, it's nice to have someone to greet you when you get home, right?

Film Review: Annie Hall

The other day I watched a classic Woody Allen film, Annie Hall. It was, in a word, brilliant.

It reminds me a lot of a film that debuted this past summer, (500) Days of Summer, except Annie Hall was executed much better and mercifully lacked the cheesy ending.

What I love about both of these films is the way they portray relationships. Both of the movies are about love, yes, but they approach it from a much different perspective than the dreaded chick flick. Case in point: the relationship you spend two hours watching fails in the end. Is the ending unhappy? No. Is it happy? Depends.

In Annie Hall, Annie and Alvy go their separate ways, and in one of the last scenes they meet up for lunch to catch up and reminisce. Provocative last line of the movie:

"It was great seeing Annie again and I realized what a terrific person she was and how much fun it was just knowing her and I thought of that old joke, you know, the, this, this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, 'Doc, uh, my brother's crazy, he thinks he's a chicken,' and uh, the doctor says, 'well why don't you turn him in?' And the guy says, 'I would, but I need the eggs.' Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships. You know, they're totally irrational and crazy and absurd and, but uh, I guess we keep going through it...because...most of us need the eggs."

Maybe this is a cynical take on relationships; I guess it depends on what the eggs are. But I think Woody is implying that sometimes people maintain relationships for the external benefits, instead of for the relationship itself. External benefits could range from trivial to heavy, e.g. from a feeling of pride to monetary security.
However, this line is not just a criticism -- I think it is also a testament to those who are able to form lasting and loving relationships.

Besides daring to convey a truth that may hit uncomfortably close to home, the film is also decorated with sincere, witty dialogue and imaginative cinematic techniques. I usually don't recommend movies to people, but in this case I will make an exception. Please. Do yourself a favor and see this movie.