Posts from the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Long awaited new post

Things about me that may not know…

1. My computer crashed, thats why there are no new posts
2. I don’t have any plans for next year, so don’t ask
3. I don’t want plans for next year, unless they include not graduating
4. I like to eat food so spicy that I have to pass out on the couch before going back for more
5. I get hot flashes, not conducive to the spicy food addiction, I am often very hot
6. I love Semi Homemade on the foodnetwork and often times wish I could make tablescapes as beautiful as Sandree Lee… I especially like the Easter one with bunny lollipops
7. When I get scared walking home alone at night I often play in my head what the Unsolved Mysteries guy would say about me. i.e. “Marissa was walking home alone one night after a strenuous library work shift…and she was never seen again.”
8. Everytime I drive past a car with a George Bush sticker I have to get a good look inside the car…just to see what they look like…
9. I always pretend like I am in a movie and I constantly play a soundtrack as I walk places
10. I love the taste of the Eucharist (sorry if you are offended by this, get over it I am appreciating the lord jesus in my own way)
11. If you ever say something bad about my friends or family I will kill you, I know I have successfully tricked maybe 2 people into thinking I am nice, I am not.
12. When I was little I wanted to be a bathroom designer, not truly sure why
13. My ultimate life goal is to raise Jewish children, (perhaps the ultimate Catholic rebellion) I have already started saving for their bar/bat mitzvahs.
14. The only food I don’t like is pickled herring
15. My other ultimate life goal is to be a Jewish Grandmother… I want to play with the little tots without raising them. And I want to spoil them with too much kugel.

Diversity!!!

I was reading a book the other day called Rebel Rules. Its a kitschy little rule book on how to break the rules without breaking the bank. ( I just came up with that tag line on the fly believe it or not). One of its thought provoking chapters is entitled Diversity is a Potluck. I figured I would like this chapter since it was about one of my favorite topics, potlucks!!! Turns out the book was still about entrepreneurship and not suddenly a cookbook, however it still made me think. It spoke of how important it is for work forces to be diverse as a whole new wealth of ideas is introduced and a diverse company represents its diverse client base. As I was reading the chapter I was completely in agreement with all the points. I thought how refreshing that a company is breaking the corporate mold and actually realizing that diversity is not only politically correct, but beneficial to all parties involved. People from different racial, economic, geographic, and religious backgrounds help bring new perspectives when solving problems and brainstorming ideas. Different beliefs and work methods can help a company relate to all different needs and desires of consumers. This was great I thought, diversity is unbelievable. It is true that often times I look at my life and realize that I am surrounded by those similar to me. But when I am surrounded by those that aren’t I feel so refreshed. I find that at Cornell, even though some say it does not live up to the melting pot Ezra may have imagined, I am surrounded by so many people that I have never been exposed to before. I have never been anywhere else where billionares from Singapore comingle with working class Midwesterners. International students hail from Korea, Taiwan, India, New Zealand, Turkey, Germany, Switzerland… of course the list goes on. To me Cornell University is basically an after school special on diversity. That is when I realized, I am the least diverse person in the whole entire world. I hail from the Northeast where chains such as El Pollo Loco admitadly don’t even exist because we don’t really know what Mexican food is. I have an intact family that I talk to on a regular basis. I am an ex Catholic raised in a world that preaches its overbearing principles by dictating and guilting. I am whiter than a ghost. I can’t even get a sun tan, I turn from fire engine red to decreasing shades of pink. It was a big shock for me to move to Connecticut and learn what a Ba/Bart Mitvah was. This was a large cultural awakening for me as I also learned what a Country Club and a trust fund were. I am ashamed to admit that the only language I know is English. Fortunately, this seems to be the universal language of business, but this does not make it any more acceptable. I don’t have any exotic pets, except for a beta fish… I don’t have any special skills, I can’t even do a cartwheel. What do I bring to the diversity potluck?? I am the salt free, butter free, powder mash potatoes that no one eats anyway, unless they ate something too spicy that needs to be subdued. This is a very depressing thought for me. I often times daydream about being Jewish and being Bat Mitvahed or being from another country with a rich history of turmoil and culture. Sometimes I wish I could be the curry or the cous-cous at the potluck. I guess I shouldn’t be ashamed of my roots. So I have no cultural perspective. Whats wrong with some bland mashed potatoes here and there, I guess sometimes one’s tongue does get a bit too hot and the mashed potatoes could really help cool it down. And what harm do they do even if not. Especially since it should be known that the mashed potatoes really enjoy the company of its neighboring Vermicelli, Ghoulash, and Empanadas. And that the mashed potatoes often wishes she could transform into a little ghoulash herself, pehaps with tiny dumplings…or even just add a little butter, some sour cream, and maybe even bacon bits to her own mashed potatoes.

Spring BREAK!!!!

This morning I woke up to find out someone stole my swiss cheese, and my Screaming Hot Salsa. It is Spring Break and rather than joining the rest of Cornell in Puerto Rico I am here in scenic Ithaca. It is fairly desolate, but last night I had the good fortune of meeting Pedro from the first floor. He seemed like a good kid. And mother nature has been pretty good to my by providing the most frigid horrifying weather in months. Hey who else gets to celebrate her “last opportuntiy to make mistakes” as my boss so tactfully put it, with 150 mph winds, snow/hail, and temperatures in the teens? Today was thrilling. First I laminated signs that urged people to not eat in the library, then I shelved a few books, then I threw away some periodicals. At this point I was exhausted so I determined it was time for my half hour lunch break during which I journeyed over to another library to pick up seasons 3 and 4 of Sex and the City. I then returned back to my own library to physically measure each bookshelf with a yardstick. After this thrilling day I knew I was in need of some serious decompressing. Fortunately, even though no one is actually in Ithaca, there are still gym classes. And finally, for the first time since my seven week course is over, I was able to go to Spinning Power Hour with Mike. It was just as good as I remembered. We spun to the N’Sync mix, it was endurance ride. We got the movie review, he saw some Tim Allen movie. He commended us for spinning instead of visiting the all you can eat dessert buffet. Everything was exactly as I remembered. As I trudged home in the sub-zero weather, with wind whipping down my face and neck, as a tumble weed blew down the path ahead of me, I realized everything was okay. God bless Mike and his flowing rattail, his Monday movie review, and his N’Sync mix. Thank god that at least one part of my life is predictable and there is something I know that no matter how long I am away, things will be exactly the same.

I love babies

I love babies. I love them so much that no matter what type of mood I am in, they always make me happy. I could be plummeting into an abyss thinking my life is over and if I happen to look up and see a baby, this feeling immediately melts away. I love all babies, girl babies, boy babies, black babies, Asian babies, all kinds of babies. I especially love fat babies, the fatter the better. I love their little rolls, their rosy cheeks, and their fuzzy hair. I love when they cry, I love when they laugh, and I love when they sleep. I love baby puppies, kittens, all babies. I love babies, I love life, I love my family with all my heart. I think that every time a baby is born, it is a miracle from God. I think it is truly a beautiful thing. As much as I believe this with all of my heart, I don’t believe that all babies should be born. I am truly saddened by South Dakota’s motion to ban most abortions in their state. Excluded from the exceptions in this ban are victims of rape and incest. This truly hurts me deep down inside of my soul. I wish that everyone could truly understand the pain and agony an unwanted baby can bring. Do the people approving this ban truly know what it feels like to bear the baby of one’s own rapist? Do they understand what its like to be the unwanted child in an orphanage? Do they know the kind of psychological pain and damage this can cause? Furthermore, do they understand what kinds of means people will turn too once a safe legal abortion is not an option? Is there any proof that making abortion illegal will make abortion go away? I understand that people need to be responsible and that precautions can be taken in order to prevent pregnancy. I fully support safe informed sex. However, is there no room for error? I understand that some people may disagree that this is a decision caused by religious persuasion, but pro- life supporters remind me of the one and only Catholic service I have been to in over 6 years. In this service I was slightly curious about the option of returning to the faith. At this service I was informed that the word of Jesus is the law I am to follow. When following this law there is no “wiggle” room. There is no room for error. Either one follows the word of the lord, or one is not Catholic. I left this mass feeling defeated and irate. How is it that there is no room for human error, no room for life? Laws such as the ban in South Dakota are unrealistic and oppressive. Removing options from desperate women will only lead to desperate measures. I wish at times that people could step away from their rigid beliefs and account for a measure of humanity and life, allow for some wiggle room, accept that mistakes are made. Should children have to pay for these mistakes? Should lives have to be compromised in order to follow a morale code that makes little sense? Is a life filled with agony and despair better than no life at all? I am not saying I have these answers, but I think that women should be able to make these decisions for themselves and the lives that they create. In the wild animals eat their babies if they are contaminated by a predator. Should a victim of an unwanted pregnancy be able to make a similar decision? I want to say once more how much I appreciate the gift of life a child can bring to the world. I truly am amazed by the gift I have as a woman to produce such a gift. But I can’t imagine what I would do if I had no other option that to birth a child at this point in my life. Because I think I can safely say that it would be a disaster.

Rock Paper Scissor Shoot

Last night, during an exceptionally important tournament of rock, paper, scissor, shoot(RPSS from here on out) I had a bit of an epiphany. After losing pretty badly to some girl named Jenna, it occured to me that I had not played this childhood favorite for years. It was used quite often as a deal breaker of sorts. It determined who would hide and who would seek, who got to jump first during jump rope, who got to do basically anything fun and or powerful ever. Sometimes we would use the one potato 2 potato method or the eenie meanie, but often times RPSS would be the prevailing decision making device. Whatever happened to this beautiful method…when did it phase out. I honestly don’t remember, it just left me one day as if in a dream. I sold it at a tag sale along with my skip – it and care bear collection. When did things start being solved differently? And on a slightly different note when did RPS shooting turn into gun shooting. I was thinking the other day about being raised. My parents taught me always try and work out problems by discussing them. If I fought with my brother and sister ( which I did) I would be punished. If I was ever violent I was reprimanded and we would try to work out my anger issues. In kindergarten when I fought I was sent to the principal’s office. All throughout life violence is discouraged as a means to work out conflict. Why then do we so often resort to violence in order to settle disputes? Why does the government send our citizens to fight in a war to supposidly work through disagreements? Why do we not only act violently, but actually kill others in order to work through change? I don’t understand what is different from when we were children. Why is it not okay for me to hit my sister because she won’t let me play with her but it is okay to shoot someone because we don’t like their government’s policies? It seems beyond primitive to me… why has so much progress been made elsewhere in society, yet this barbaric method of conflict resolution remains? It almost makes more sense to RPS shoot it out… which if it is done in Ithaca for the next few days… may win you a trip to Vegas as a bonus!

Confusion

To alleviate any confusion that may have been caused, here is a post that I had up originally and then chose to erase based on the fact that it was slightly belligerent and typo ridden. It was inspired by a brief research project on the Heritage Foundation, a conservative Think Tank, based in Washington D.C. This organization claims to have no ties to the government, however seems suspiciously close to those in the White House, as well as has strong ties within the media with sources including the New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. The Think Tank produces research that more or less supports the idea that there should be less government assistance for the poor and focuses on more individual freedom as well as free enterprise. In essence the theory is this: People can be successful based entirely on their own talents. It should not matter whether a person is Hispanic, or black, or white, a man or woman, coming from the streets, or coming from wealthy suburbia. Surprisingly funding mainly comes from a few extremely wealthy donors, and then a seemingly never ending list of large Corporations.

I am white. I am from an extremely affluent section of Connecticut. I attend an even wealthier Ivy League University and I can tell you right now without batting an eye that I am not here solely based on my personal work ethic. It does happen that I have a fabulous work ethic, don’t get me wrong, however I have a lot more factors on my side that will allow me to be successful in the future. I have two supportive working parents that have provided me with love and financial security since birth. I have been provided with some of the best public lower level schooling in the world and now a highly regarded College education. I have always been well fed, well –dressed (relatively speaking), and well groomed.

So it may be extremely easy for me to say that all it takes is hard work for someone to get to the top, but the truth of the matter is this is simply not true. Poor people do not have equal access to good health care, education, or training. People that are less than poor do not have equal access to safe housing, nutritious food, or public funding that may help them get back on their feet. Once one reaches the bottom, it is virtually impossible to get back up. The fact is this we should not be providing flat taxes in order to preserve the sickening wealth possessed by a small minority of those living in the US, but we should be focusing on increasing public assistance to help get people at a level where they have a fighting chance to sustain themselves. Furthermore, I think we all need to be a little bit careful when reading, seeing, or hearing anything, because it is more than likely the researcher quoted is funded by the people they are claiming to support. And more than too many people trust the media as an accurate source for non biased news, so my friends, I would highly suggest we all suck it up, be a bit more skeptical and stop trying step on the little people in order to get to the top.

Serves him right

This is one smart puppy.

My one true love

Some people people find sanctuary at a place of worship, whether it be a chapel, a temple, a meditation room, or some other place in the presence of GOD. Others find their calm at a beach with purring waves and powder soft sand. Then there are others whom feel most at peace at the spa under the finger tips of a well trained massage therapist. Well I too have found my safe place, my mecca. This place of glory and bliss is called Wegman’s. For those unfortunate souls without a Wegman’s nearby imagine the most awe inspiring sight you have ever seen. Perhaps it is the Grand Canyon, or the Swiss Alps, maybe the pyramids in Egypt. The Seven Wonders of the World don’t come close. It is at Wegman’s where I can order a skim latte, then wheel my cart over to the bakery where several jolly employees can fill my arms with loaf after loaf of fresh baked sour dough or french baguette, and then perhaps stop for a snack of freshly prepared pasta, sandhwich, or salad. I could select a vegetarian or vegan option, or perhaps choose a variety of Asian cuisines. After some sustenance, I can begin my journey. There is the feel of a European open air market as I wheel past fresh fish and meats, olives, fresh mozzarella, and then finally stop in front of all of my favorite cheeses. Parmesan, Roquefort, Gruyere, Gouda, Goat, Tellagio, Gjetost, Brie, Camembert, row after row of cheese after cheese. When I am at Wegman’s I am at home. It is here where feasts become a reality, where recipes are created and soon to be tested. Here miracles happen, dreams come true. At Wegman’s one not only shops, but experiences. It isn’t a chore, but a joy. I feel like a painter picking out paints when I am there. Somehow whether it be the enchanting layout, the consistent qualtity and variety, the soothing lighting, or the spotless cleanliness Wegman’s brings out the artist in everyone. Because food really is art, it should be enjoyed like a a fine painting, slowly and with great thought. It should not be gulped behind a wheel at a drive through, or in a bar. It should not be a quick fix or a solution. Food is an opportunity for people to craft elements together to make something that can provide joy and pleasure. It should bring people together and bring them life. It is at my mecca where these elements can be gathered and used to create masterpieces. It is at Wegman’s where food becomes art.

Love Love Love

I forgot to mention in my previous post the most important dating option of all. It is one that not only truly amuses me, but makes me want to run to my computer and book a flight. It seems that airlines have figured out the secret desire for all single travlers ( or I suppose anyone just a little bit lonely) to pick seat assignments based on the desire to meet a potential mate. Yes, dating can now be done in the air, while flying to a new fabulous destination. Peanuts, and assorted soft drinks are provided and alcoholic beverages can be purchased for an additional charge. Its actually a wonderful idea for the multitasker and those that particularly enjoy heights. And who doesn’t get on a flight with visions of dreamy seat buddies dancing in their heads?? Thank god someone is making that dream a reality.

Dating?

This past summer a friend and I, dissatisfied with the selection of bachelors in our somewhat sprawling suburban town, decided out of curiosity to sign up for match.com. I thought it would be a fun social experiment. We had plans of a book and movie, however these shortly fizzled. At first it was exciting, deciding which picture to use, what to put in our profile, and seeing who else utilized the service. It became immediately clear that what was a “fun social experiment” for us, was a way of life for a large population (at least on this site). Messages were received daily by people that wanted to “chat” or even meet in person. I removed myself from the site after a “business man” over the age of 50 from my own hometown wanted to get together. It is amazing to me how dating has become such a large business not only in this country, but around the world. When googling the words dating service over 63,200,000 hits come up. There is match.com, e-harmony, j-date, lovecompass, plentyoffish.com, etc. Sites offering Russian brides, those for specific religious affiliations, for those over 40, on and on. There are also services such as “It’s Just Lunch” which is designed for business professionals, too busy for the dating scene. This service organizes lunch dates based on user profiles. Speed dating is another face to face form of dating. Companies such as hurrydate and 8 minute dating organize parties at local bars and clubs that allow for couples to meet for a short period of time (5-8 minutes). Throughout the night one can meet anywhere from 25-30 people and then they can determine if they want to meet for a real date. Recently, online dating services have made the leap to cell phone service. Now people can meet and chat anywhere anytime! In other countries it is possible for your mobile device to indicate whethere your “buddy” or “match” is within a 100 ft radius of you at any given time. As a college student, these ideas seem more than a little crazy. Whatever happened to the old fashioned way of meeting a mate, in a mosh pit aka frat party, or at a rowdy bar? Whatever happened to sharing a milkshake or hand holding?? Is the only post college dating option through my cell phone? Am I limited to 5 minute forced interactions from here on out? Or worse yet, will I have to mail order a husband? I don’t even think they do that!!! I don’t doubt that many people have found wonderful companions through these services and everyone deserves that. What concerns me is that we are moving too fast. Our lives our a blur and we are too self absorbed and scared to look around and approach people in the flesh. I feel very Carrie Bradshaw-esque writing about this, but is the dating we once knew obsolete?