So my friend from Gilroy told me today about the case of a Gilroy High math teacher (32) allegedly having sex with a 14 year old girl from San Jose. (Link to the story)
So it said they met on a social networking site, tagged.com And he was some total creeper with 100+ girl friends under the age of 18. Anyway, freako as he is, I sent my friend a link to the site, and here is what he sent back to me:
I officially have no idea whats going on in the world.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
SF Chron to be shut down? "It's so Soviet."
Article by Michael Rosenblum: (read the actual one here)
The Heart Corporation announced today that it was going to sell or close the San Francisco Chronicle.
This means that San Francisco could lose its largest and most powerful newspaper.
The Chronicle lost $50 million last year, and has suffered losses every year since 2001.
It make KRON look like a major success story.
If The Chronicle is on the ropes, then there is something wrong with the fundamentals of the news business.
And there is.
And not just newspapers - because where the papers are today, the networks will be tomorrow.
What to do?
About 6 months ago, I was on a panel at one of Jeff Jarvis’ confabs at CUNY in NY, on the future of journalism.
The panel was headed by Andrew Heyward, former Pres of CBS News.
The challenge - design the newsroom of the future.
The room was filled with media luminaries and we began by putting numbers on the board - how many reporters, how many editors, how big a staff - we were at around 250 (which seemed a painful number in and of itself), when one young journalist from a website in Denmark spoke up.
“I think you are all way off”, she said. “I think the number is closer to 30″.
30?
“30 total”. Like any good website today. 30 is a lot.
This small think is traumatic for those who have spent their lives in major journalism institutions like The New York Times or NBC News. 30 is the weekend cleaning staff - maybe.
But like our fixation on big cameras, our fixation on big staffing and big buildings and big infrastructure may be our undoing.
It’s all very Soviet.
In DC we have been running a pilot local TV station for two years, producing a half hour of original programming a day, every day. We have a staff of 7. Total. 6 VJs who work out of their homes. They report. They shoot. They cut and then they upload to a server in our NY office where an editor reviews and assembles their work to make the half-hour.
365 half hours a year.
Total cost: $600,000
Those are pretty impressive numbers.
And it works.
Now maybe you think it’s too lean. Maybe you think you need 8 or 10 reporters. Fine.
There’s lots of room here on the upside.
But what we have gotten rid of is the burdensome infrastructure. We don’t need the building, the desks, the lamps, the coffee machine, the parking lots… or all the transmission and retransmission gear, the edit suites (or when it comes to newspapers - the printing presses, the ink, the paper). Not to mention the layers and layers and layers of management and bureaucracy.
Look at the web!
Look at Wordpress.com. 198,285 bloggers, 183,275 new posts 46,650,198 words today. Today!
If you had to hire enough writers at Chronicle rates and benefits to write 46 million words a day, what would it cost?
Undoable?
The web….just worldpress, does it daily. For nothing!
Embrace the new technology for what it can do.. not how it can be used to replicate what we do already, and the news organizations can not only survive, they can thrive.
But time is running out.
The Heart Corporation announced today that it was going to sell or close the San Francisco Chronicle.
This means that San Francisco could lose its largest and most powerful newspaper.
The Chronicle lost $50 million last year, and has suffered losses every year since 2001.
It make KRON look like a major success story.
If The Chronicle is on the ropes, then there is something wrong with the fundamentals of the news business.
And there is.
And not just newspapers - because where the papers are today, the networks will be tomorrow.
What to do?
About 6 months ago, I was on a panel at one of Jeff Jarvis’ confabs at CUNY in NY, on the future of journalism.
The panel was headed by Andrew Heyward, former Pres of CBS News.
The challenge - design the newsroom of the future.
The room was filled with media luminaries and we began by putting numbers on the board - how many reporters, how many editors, how big a staff - we were at around 250 (which seemed a painful number in and of itself), when one young journalist from a website in Denmark spoke up.
“I think you are all way off”, she said. “I think the number is closer to 30″.
30?
“30 total”. Like any good website today. 30 is a lot.
This small think is traumatic for those who have spent their lives in major journalism institutions like The New York Times or NBC News. 30 is the weekend cleaning staff - maybe.
But like our fixation on big cameras, our fixation on big staffing and big buildings and big infrastructure may be our undoing.
It’s all very Soviet.
In DC we have been running a pilot local TV station for two years, producing a half hour of original programming a day, every day. We have a staff of 7. Total. 6 VJs who work out of their homes. They report. They shoot. They cut and then they upload to a server in our NY office where an editor reviews and assembles their work to make the half-hour.
365 half hours a year.
Total cost: $600,000
Those are pretty impressive numbers.
And it works.
Now maybe you think it’s too lean. Maybe you think you need 8 or 10 reporters. Fine.
There’s lots of room here on the upside.
But what we have gotten rid of is the burdensome infrastructure. We don’t need the building, the desks, the lamps, the coffee machine, the parking lots… or all the transmission and retransmission gear, the edit suites (or when it comes to newspapers - the printing presses, the ink, the paper). Not to mention the layers and layers and layers of management and bureaucracy.
Look at the web!
Look at Wordpress.com. 198,285 bloggers, 183,275 new posts 46,650,198 words today. Today!
If you had to hire enough writers at Chronicle rates and benefits to write 46 million words a day, what would it cost?
Undoable?
The web….just worldpress, does it daily. For nothing!
Embrace the new technology for what it can do.. not how it can be used to replicate what we do already, and the news organizations can not only survive, they can thrive.
But time is running out.
Biking=blasphemy
Ok, so being thrown into the death-defying world of biking in the Netherlands is tame compared to Denmark. Why? Because there are HILLS here. I basically have to ride over something like this just to get anywhere worth going. Because I am definitely not one of these:
(What up National Geographic!)
riding a bike is not the simplest of tasks.
Like going to say, the city center. Living in the ghetto may offer cheap food, but its boring as hell. I've been making excuses to take the bus lately, either feeling guilty by spending money on it (close to $3 each time...phuket.) or, tempt fate and not pay. (No Mom, didn't learn my lessons in SF...) but today I turned over a new leaf, and was like, "Girl, you need Kanye's workout plan" (Or, just wear this shirt?) so I'm determined to ride that P.O.S. every time I can.
Today Emiel and I put that into effect by going to the center, so I could go to the Police station and attempt to apply for my visa. Yes, 2 months later! Don't judge me. Anyhooter, I couldn't find the effing place, rode all around the block, then finally asked, she gave me crap directions, told me to go left and look for a yellow house, so of course I go to the
<--WRONG YELLOW HOUSE!
But the lady was nice, even though you can tell she gets the same question a zillion times a day, but I finally got to the immigration office, out of breath and 12,000 degrees, and the lady was a total beez. She told me my account information showing how much of a baller I am (from Wells Fargo!) was "not sufficient" and that I need a Danish bank account. Well, if she wasn't such a dingbat she would know that you can't get a Danish bank account without being a registered citizen, but you can't register as a citizen without a visa, but I can't get a visa without a Danish bank account?
Tell me where I went wrong.
Whateva. I'm ovs it, but then we went and sat at this cool cafe/art dealer/studio and hung out for 5 hours attempting to work on our Eastern Europe assignments, but pretty much goofed around and listened to the girls next to us speaking english in their knitting circle. But, to come full circle, on the way home I thought my heart was going to pump out of my chest and my freaky jello legs would just wobble away. Yes, that bad. Uphill (MOUNTAIN) and windy is never a good combo, especially paired with my lack of physical stamina and crap bike that plays this really exciting game called "whenever Sarah is at her peak of physical exhaustion, thinking she is near the end, I will switch into the hardest gear, making it IMPOSSIBLE!" For $20, I think I deserve more.
(What up National Geographic!)riding a bike is not the simplest of tasks.
Like going to say, the city center. Living in the ghetto may offer cheap food, but its boring as hell. I've been making excuses to take the bus lately, either feeling guilty by spending money on it (close to $3 each time...phuket.) or, tempt fate and not pay. (No Mom, didn't learn my lessons in SF...) but today I turned over a new leaf, and was like, "Girl, you need Kanye's workout plan" (Or, just wear this shirt?) so I'm determined to ride that P.O.S. every time I can.
Today Emiel and I put that into effect by going to the center, so I could go to the Police station and attempt to apply for my visa. Yes, 2 months later! Don't judge me. Anyhooter, I couldn't find the effing place, rode all around the block, then finally asked, she gave me crap directions, told me to go left and look for a yellow house, so of course I go to the
<--WRONG YELLOW HOUSE!
But the lady was nice, even though you can tell she gets the same question a zillion times a day, but I finally got to the immigration office, out of breath and 12,000 degrees, and the lady was a total beez. She told me my account information showing how much of a baller I am (from Wells Fargo!) was "not sufficient" and that I need a Danish bank account. Well, if she wasn't such a dingbat she would know that you can't get a Danish bank account without being a registered citizen, but you can't register as a citizen without a visa, but I can't get a visa without a Danish bank account?
Tell me where I went wrong.
Whateva. I'm ovs it, but then we went and sat at this cool cafe/art dealer/studio and hung out for 5 hours attempting to work on our Eastern Europe assignments, but pretty much goofed around and listened to the girls next to us speaking english in their knitting circle. But, to come full circle, on the way home I thought my heart was going to pump out of my chest and my freaky jello legs would just wobble away. Yes, that bad. Uphill (MOUNTAIN) and windy is never a good combo, especially paired with my lack of physical stamina and crap bike that plays this really exciting game called "whenever Sarah is at her peak of physical exhaustion, thinking she is near the end, I will switch into the hardest gear, making it IMPOSSIBLE!" For $20, I think I deserve more.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Good Cause
This is a shout out for my homegirl Phylicia, who is shaving her head to earn money towards childhood cancer research. I know times are hard, but even a little bit helps. Help her reach her goal here:
St. Baldricks Foundation
Good luck Philly!
St. Baldricks Foundation
Good luck Philly!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Meet Copenhagen, the new love of my life.
For my birthday last weekend it was decided that we would head to Copenhagen, so we rented some guys apartment (which turned out to be a really good idea), packed our things, and left Thursday morning. But not before my friends sang happy birthday to me, gave me a card, and bought me a full sized mirror (not only a hot commodity around here, but my narcissism needed fueling.)
The train ride from Århus is about 3 hours, but we got there in plenty of time, despite moving around a lot. Got to the apartment to find this:
That, my friends, is the small kitchen, and the white space-age tube is the SHOWER! Apparently quite common in older places, but you have to attach it to the sink first, then press a button, zip it up, and enjoy your 2 feet of room around you. Shaving you legs is a mission I attempted, failed, and constantly thought my friends would see as white vinyl isn't the thickest material...
We got there Thursday afternoon, put our stuff down and then semi-wandered. Of course, we ended up at a "Journalist Bar" (Whole different story-a concept I never knew of but basically applies to every European city. America, we are missing something good here.) We sat there for awhile, enjoying ourselves, then went home to eat yummy pizza around the corner (I even scored some free pasta from the place-happy birthday to me!) and just hung out at the apartment.
Mads, Eliza, Adelija, Emiel and the Mermaid
We spent some time in the Castille area nearby, taking really cool photos:
After we walked across the river to the Christianshavn area, a cute little neighborhood with tons of shops and canals, and most notably Christiana. This is one of the craziest places ever. Very similar to the Haight in a lot of respects, but it is a town of about 850 people who live by basically their own rules, and have established semi-legal status as an independent community. A leftover military base taken over in 1971, there are no cameras allowed on the property, smoking laws aren't in effect, and it has been notorious for its liberal drug policy, especially weed which is still sold on the streets like NBD. It is peaceful place, full of hippies, but tends to get dangerous when the Copenhagen police perform random drug raids...not my cup of tea. It was cool to see, and something completely different from the rest of the city.
After that it was time for coffee and the bar we had gone to on Thursday, and met up with some of Mads' friends. From there we went home to cook a DELICIOUS meal of lasagna for all my wonderful friends. The best part was Liz, my good friend from SF studying in Vaxjo, Sweden came to visit us!! With her 2 friends, the 4 Danes, Emiel, Eliza, and Adelija, we had 11 people for dinner and it was the best birthday present I could ask for just to be with all of them :)
We were planning to go to some club later, but it was too expensive to get in so we went to a place next door and danced are arses off before remembering Euro music can suck for long periods of time, so we called it a night.
Saturday, it was Jesper's turn to show us around. We met at Nyhavn, a harbor area that is popular in the summer, where people buy beer and hang out all day. Perfect!
We walked around behind it, saw the German boat and made the previous video, and walked through a park where you could see the new Opera house across the water.
Walked back through King's park, and then past Tivoli, one of the oldest Theme parks. Safe, eh? Anywho, it was time for Adelija and Eliza to head home, so we went to dinner, and then there were three. Jesper, Emiel and I headed home to play cards and attempt playing drinking games while we waited for Liz (who spent the entire day in the hospital with her sick French friend!) They came over and we went to the club we didn't go in to the night before, but left soon after, happy we didn't have to pay. Everyone else was tuckered out, but Jesper and I were determined to have a good time. More wandering ensued, until we ended up at a cool Irish bar. Leave it to me, I met the craziest old American man, who has been living in Sweden most of his life.
His band is the Noel Smith Project and I spent a good 3 hours attempting to convince him to play at Strawberry, and what a cool music festival it is. I presume my attempts were futile, but nonetheless I arrived home at 8am, and was ready to sleep. Sunday we spent cleaning and then back on the 3 hour train ride.
All in all, it was a great weekend and I love Copenhagen. A lot. I will return sooner than I know :)
The train ride from Århus is about 3 hours, but we got there in plenty of time, despite moving around a lot. Got to the apartment to find this:
That, my friends, is the small kitchen, and the white space-age tube is the SHOWER! Apparently quite common in older places, but you have to attach it to the sink first, then press a button, zip it up, and enjoy your 2 feet of room around you. Shaving you legs is a mission I attempted, failed, and constantly thought my friends would see as white vinyl isn't the thickest material...
We got there Thursday afternoon, put our stuff down and then semi-wandered. Of course, we ended up at a "Journalist Bar" (Whole different story-a concept I never knew of but basically applies to every European city. America, we are missing something good here.) We sat there for awhile, enjoying ourselves, then went home to eat yummy pizza around the corner (I even scored some free pasta from the place-happy birthday to me!) and just hung out at the apartment.
Its been a long week since the trip, but I still want to talk about it. Friday, my actual birfday, we awesome because my friends love me and repeatedly kept telling me it was the day of my glorious, glorious expulsion into the wide world. We spent the day wandering around with Mads as our tour guide, and we were soaking up the rare sunshine. We went to see the statue of the Little Mermaid, written by Danish Hans Christian Anderson, for those of you who were like, "WTF who cares about that statue??" It's Danish, so it matters.
Mads, Eliza, Adelija, Emiel and the Mermaid
We spent some time in the Castille area nearby, taking really cool photos:
After we walked across the river to the Christianshavn area, a cute little neighborhood with tons of shops and canals, and most notably Christiana. This is one of the craziest places ever. Very similar to the Haight in a lot of respects, but it is a town of about 850 people who live by basically their own rules, and have established semi-legal status as an independent community. A leftover military base taken over in 1971, there are no cameras allowed on the property, smoking laws aren't in effect, and it has been notorious for its liberal drug policy, especially weed which is still sold on the streets like NBD. It is peaceful place, full of hippies, but tends to get dangerous when the Copenhagen police perform random drug raids...not my cup of tea. It was cool to see, and something completely different from the rest of the city.
After that it was time for coffee and the bar we had gone to on Thursday, and met up with some of Mads' friends. From there we went home to cook a DELICIOUS meal of lasagna for all my wonderful friends. The best part was Liz, my good friend from SF studying in Vaxjo, Sweden came to visit us!! With her 2 friends, the 4 Danes, Emiel, Eliza, and Adelija, we had 11 people for dinner and it was the best birthday present I could ask for just to be with all of them :)
We were planning to go to some club later, but it was too expensive to get in so we went to a place next door and danced are arses off before remembering Euro music can suck for long periods of time, so we called it a night.
Saturday, it was Jesper's turn to show us around. We met at Nyhavn, a harbor area that is popular in the summer, where people buy beer and hang out all day. Perfect!
We walked around behind it, saw the German boat and made the previous video, and walked through a park where you could see the new Opera house across the water.
Walked back through King's park, and then past Tivoli, one of the oldest Theme parks. Safe, eh? Anywho, it was time for Adelija and Eliza to head home, so we went to dinner, and then there were three. Jesper, Emiel and I headed home to play cards and attempt playing drinking games while we waited for Liz (who spent the entire day in the hospital with her sick French friend!) They came over and we went to the club we didn't go in to the night before, but left soon after, happy we didn't have to pay. Everyone else was tuckered out, but Jesper and I were determined to have a good time. More wandering ensued, until we ended up at a cool Irish bar. Leave it to me, I met the craziest old American man, who has been living in Sweden most of his life.
His band is the Noel Smith Project and I spent a good 3 hours attempting to convince him to play at Strawberry, and what a cool music festival it is. I presume my attempts were futile, but nonetheless I arrived home at 8am, and was ready to sleep. Sunday we spent cleaning and then back on the 3 hour train ride.
All in all, it was a great weekend and I love Copenhagen. A lot. I will return sooner than I know :)
Oh Benjamin Button, how I love thee..
New movie. Staring Brad Pitt. For 3 hours. WHERE DO I SIGN UP?!
Then I realized, yo girl, you in Denmark now and shivvy is expensive. But whateva, it was Sofia's birthday today, and mine this weekend, so we decided to make our to a showing at 9pm. That cost 80 kroner, due to the 3 hour-ness of it. But...
WORTH EVERY PENNY!!!
Nikki had tried to convince me it was a snooze, but I refused to believe her, but do agree about the excellent makeup.
Ok, so if you haven't heard about this brilliant film, you should. I'm sure all the arsty-fartsies won't agree, but not only was it cinematographically beautiful in practically every scene, the story is complex and heart-wrenching, and the attention to detail impeccable. And when it's originally written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, who can say no?
**SPOILER ALERT!! DO NOT READ IF YOU INTEND TO WATCH THE FILM!!**
The film takes shape with a daughter at her mothers dying bedside, in the present, when the mother asks her to read from a diary, the diary of Benjamin Button.
The story starts with a blind clock maker who loses his son in a war, and unveils a clock that runs backward, hoping it will bring all the men, and especially his son, home from the dreaded war. This leads to the birth of Benjamin, who is born basically dying as an old man would in New Orleans in 1918. His mother dies during birth, and his father is so freaked out by the creepiest of all creepy babies (and I know about creepy babies...) and leaves him on the doorstep to a senior citizen home, where a young black woman who works there takes him in, mostly because she can't have children herself.
Benjamin obviously fits right in, being an old man, but really is young at heart, spirit, and mind, and only appears to be in his 80's. Throughout this time, people come in and out of his life, dying and then new older people showing up. He sees it as the way it is, until he meets 5 year old Claire (Cate Blanchett) who knows there is something about him, and they share an instant bond. He turns 17 and meets a ship captain who allows him to work on the boat despite his age, and actually runs into his father one night after his first time at a brothel, though he has no idea who the man is. Later, he decides its time to enter the world, and leaves on a fishing boat eventually to Russia, but writes Claire every chance he gets.
Once in Russia, he is staying at a hotel and has a steamy affair with a married British woman (Tilda Swinton) who eventually leaves him, and only a brief note behind, much like most of the people in his life. From then he and his ship mates head back to the states to fight in WWII, after the attack on Pearl Harbor. His boat is the only one to come upon a US ship hit by a Japanese submarine, killing all 1,300 men on board, then then the 6 or 7 men he is with, and he is the only survivor. After this, he heads home, back to the senior home, the only place he knows.
While he is at home, he meets his father again. He finds out the man is dying, but before he confesses who he is, and while Benjamin is angry, he forgives him by taking him to his favorite lake to watch the sunrise during his last days. He also gives Benjamin his life savings, and Button's Buttons, the company in his family for generations that flourished during the war, making him quite wealthy. While at his childhood home in New Orleans, Claire shows up there too, and they enjoy a romantic evening of her talking about her new life as a ballet dancer in NY and she attempts to seduce him, but he refuses, especially as he is still much older than she.
After awhile, he tries to chase her down in New York, but she is with another man, and then heads off to Paris for another professional ballet. One day, as the movie points out, a series of events that leads to a taxi hitting her, breaking her leg in 5 places and permanently ending her dancing career. Benjamin comes to Paris to be with her, but she still refuses him, not knowing how to handle his affection, and slight age problem.
Eventually, she comes around and shows up again in New Orleans. This time, they know they are meant for each other and don't fight it. They live together and Claire opens a dance studio, and they sail his boat around the world. But then, she gets pregnant and after one year he decides he is in no position to father a child while he continues to get younger. He leaves his fortune to them, and drives off on his motorcycle in the middle of the night. He lives like a vagabond, traveling the world and India in particular, with the knowledge of a wise old man but the youth and body of a young Brad Pitt. (Not a bad combo, in my opinion)
He consistently writes everything in his diary, and even comes back to visit Claire and see his 12 year old daughter. They still love each other, but it is obvious that things would have never worked. He continues to get younger, until one day Claire gets a call about a young boy who is suffering from some sort of dementia, and is brought back to his same childhood home. Claire comes to visit everyday before eventually moving in with him, and you watch as she enters her 70's while he becomes a toddler, then an infant, and then dies in her arms. The end shows a hurricane that is ripping through present time while the woman dies in the hospital. The woman is Claire, and her daughter is reading her fathers diary about a life she never knew existed. One of the last scenes shows water flooding a basement in which the backwards clock lies, slowly consumed by rushing water.
The only word for this film is...EPIC. It was amazing, and I encourage everyone to see it. Not only a love story that lasts generations, but a way to think about the ways that life takes us and leaves us behind, but thats just the way it goes.
Then I realized, yo girl, you in Denmark now and shivvy is expensive. But whateva, it was Sofia's birthday today, and mine this weekend, so we decided to make our to a showing at 9pm. That cost 80 kroner, due to the 3 hour-ness of it. But...
WORTH EVERY PENNY!!!
Nikki had tried to convince me it was a snooze, but I refused to believe her, but do agree about the excellent makeup.
Ok, so if you haven't heard about this brilliant film, you should. I'm sure all the arsty-fartsies won't agree, but not only was it cinematographically beautiful in practically every scene, the story is complex and heart-wrenching, and the attention to detail impeccable. And when it's originally written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, who can say no?
**SPOILER ALERT!! DO NOT READ IF YOU INTEND TO WATCH THE FILM!!**
The film takes shape with a daughter at her mothers dying bedside, in the present, when the mother asks her to read from a diary, the diary of Benjamin Button.
The story starts with a blind clock maker who loses his son in a war, and unveils a clock that runs backward, hoping it will bring all the men, and especially his son, home from the dreaded war. This leads to the birth of Benjamin, who is born basically dying as an old man would in New Orleans in 1918. His mother dies during birth, and his father is so freaked out by the creepiest of all creepy babies (and I know about creepy babies...) and leaves him on the doorstep to a senior citizen home, where a young black woman who works there takes him in, mostly because she can't have children herself.
Benjamin obviously fits right in, being an old man, but really is young at heart, spirit, and mind, and only appears to be in his 80's. Throughout this time, people come in and out of his life, dying and then new older people showing up. He sees it as the way it is, until he meets 5 year old Claire (Cate Blanchett) who knows there is something about him, and they share an instant bond. He turns 17 and meets a ship captain who allows him to work on the boat despite his age, and actually runs into his father one night after his first time at a brothel, though he has no idea who the man is. Later, he decides its time to enter the world, and leaves on a fishing boat eventually to Russia, but writes Claire every chance he gets.
Once in Russia, he is staying at a hotel and has a steamy affair with a married British woman (Tilda Swinton) who eventually leaves him, and only a brief note behind, much like most of the people in his life. From then he and his ship mates head back to the states to fight in WWII, after the attack on Pearl Harbor. His boat is the only one to come upon a US ship hit by a Japanese submarine, killing all 1,300 men on board, then then the 6 or 7 men he is with, and he is the only survivor. After this, he heads home, back to the senior home, the only place he knows.
While he is at home, he meets his father again. He finds out the man is dying, but before he confesses who he is, and while Benjamin is angry, he forgives him by taking him to his favorite lake to watch the sunrise during his last days. He also gives Benjamin his life savings, and Button's Buttons, the company in his family for generations that flourished during the war, making him quite wealthy. While at his childhood home in New Orleans, Claire shows up there too, and they enjoy a romantic evening of her talking about her new life as a ballet dancer in NY and she attempts to seduce him, but he refuses, especially as he is still much older than she.
After awhile, he tries to chase her down in New York, but she is with another man, and then heads off to Paris for another professional ballet. One day, as the movie points out, a series of events that leads to a taxi hitting her, breaking her leg in 5 places and permanently ending her dancing career. Benjamin comes to Paris to be with her, but she still refuses him, not knowing how to handle his affection, and slight age problem.
Eventually, she comes around and shows up again in New Orleans. This time, they know they are meant for each other and don't fight it. They live together and Claire opens a dance studio, and they sail his boat around the world. But then, she gets pregnant and after one year he decides he is in no position to father a child while he continues to get younger. He leaves his fortune to them, and drives off on his motorcycle in the middle of the night. He lives like a vagabond, traveling the world and India in particular, with the knowledge of a wise old man but the youth and body of a young Brad Pitt. (Not a bad combo, in my opinion)
He consistently writes everything in his diary, and even comes back to visit Claire and see his 12 year old daughter. They still love each other, but it is obvious that things would have never worked. He continues to get younger, until one day Claire gets a call about a young boy who is suffering from some sort of dementia, and is brought back to his same childhood home. Claire comes to visit everyday before eventually moving in with him, and you watch as she enters her 70's while he becomes a toddler, then an infant, and then dies in her arms. The end shows a hurricane that is ripping through present time while the woman dies in the hospital. The woman is Claire, and her daughter is reading her fathers diary about a life she never knew existed. One of the last scenes shows water flooding a basement in which the backwards clock lies, slowly consumed by rushing water.
The only word for this film is...EPIC. It was amazing, and I encourage everyone to see it. Not only a love story that lasts generations, but a way to think about the ways that life takes us and leaves us behind, but thats just the way it goes.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Sinking in Copenhagen
The whole point of this video is a response to this video about learning English:
We think its hilarious, but then again I look totally clueless.
Whateva.
Word of the Week
SKINKE.
Simply put, it means ham.
But to me, Skinke is so, soo much more than that.
It is a noun: "That girl has the ugliest skinke I've ever seen!"
Or a verb: "I'll skinke you if you ever call me a Skinke again!"
Or, adverb: "I got here as skinkly as I could."
An adjective: "Ew, my hair is so skinke today."
An insult: "You're such a skinke!"
Confusion: "Skinke? I can't hear you."
Insult/Random profanity: "Skinke you, you skinke skinke!"
Basically, it can be used in any context, at any time, without any REAL meaning.
Aren't you glad you learned something new today?
Simply put, it means ham.
But to me, Skinke is so, soo much more than that.
It is a noun: "That girl has the ugliest skinke I've ever seen!"
Or a verb: "I'll skinke you if you ever call me a Skinke again!"
Or, adverb: "I got here as skinkly as I could."
An adjective: "Ew, my hair is so skinke today."
An insult: "You're such a skinke!"
Confusion: "Skinke? I can't hear you."
Insult/Random profanity: "Skinke you, you skinke skinke!"
Basically, it can be used in any context, at any time, without any REAL meaning.
Aren't you glad you learned something new today?
Monday, February 9, 2009
Baby it's cold outside
This past weekend, my goal was to go out and explore Århus more, despite the crappy weather. But, lucky enough, when we woke up Sunday morning it was beautiful and SUNNY! Seriously, only the second day of sunshine since we've been here, and it was much needed on my part. (It's like I'm from California or something...) Anywho, we set out and determined it was freezing, but wanted to make the most of it anyway. We rode to the city center, through some little side streets full of shops and restaurants, and finally made it to the BEACH! We rode along the coast a bit of a ways, then stopped across from Risskov forest. We rode up some more, through some gorgeous little beach houses, and even some huge mansions, where I will no doubt attend some elegant, classy, summer party, of course.
On the way there we also passed the weirdest thing I've seen-a pacifier tree. Ok, maybe not the weirdest but odd in its own respect because it was a bunch of pacifiers hanging from a dying gray tree and looked like something out of some sick horror film. Emiel asked some Danes what it was, and apparently when children get too old to use them, the parents hang them on the tree. Eww.
We continued riding, but got to the city center and decided to stop for coffee...at the PERFECT moment. Right when we sat down, we looked outside to see what? SNOWFLAKES. Still sunny, but totally snowing. Only added to the mysterious day.
From there we set off to follow the canal/river that flows through the city, out to the lakes. It was pretty flat, but the intense wind made us ride pretty slowly and provided a bit of a workout. A little too swampy for my taste, but around 330 when the sun starts to set (damn you north pole!) the colors were fabulous.
A much needed day (if not exhausting) but worth it after Thursday and Friday nights. Thursday we had an introduction dinner and got to meet all the new internationals (all in all, 5 of us from SFSU, plus 3 other US and 4 Canadians), then Friday was the first "Friday bar" or the semester. The bar isn't open everyday, just Fridays starting at 2:15, and in a sort of basement-like setting that provides no ventilation, so basically we were in a sauna. Either way, it was really fun, and there is a RULE that at 8pm, the pool table is closed so people can DANCE on it. Crazy talk, but a good time. (And no, I did NOT submit myself to that sort of utter embarrassment. I'm a professional.)
Me, Simona, and my roomie Jena, with her friend Ashley that came to visit from London.
We took some steps over the railroad tracks that make their way up the coast, and landed on the beach. Parts were muddy, mostly rocky, and it was even colder with the wind picking up, but being by the ocean and and smelling the salty air was absolutely perfect in my mind.
On the way there we also passed the weirdest thing I've seen-a pacifier tree. Ok, maybe not the weirdest but odd in its own respect because it was a bunch of pacifiers hanging from a dying gray tree and looked like something out of some sick horror film. Emiel asked some Danes what it was, and apparently when children get too old to use them, the parents hang them on the tree. Eww.
We continued riding, but got to the city center and decided to stop for coffee...at the PERFECT moment. Right when we sat down, we looked outside to see what? SNOWFLAKES. Still sunny, but totally snowing. Only added to the mysterious day.
From there we set off to follow the canal/river that flows through the city, out to the lakes. It was pretty flat, but the intense wind made us ride pretty slowly and provided a bit of a workout. A little too swampy for my taste, but around 330 when the sun starts to set (damn you north pole!) the colors were fabulous.
A much needed day (if not exhausting) but worth it after Thursday and Friday nights. Thursday we had an introduction dinner and got to meet all the new internationals (all in all, 5 of us from SFSU, plus 3 other US and 4 Canadians), then Friday was the first "Friday bar" or the semester. The bar isn't open everyday, just Fridays starting at 2:15, and in a sort of basement-like setting that provides no ventilation, so basically we were in a sauna. Either way, it was really fun, and there is a RULE that at 8pm, the pool table is closed so people can DANCE on it. Crazy talk, but a good time. (And no, I did NOT submit myself to that sort of utter embarrassment. I'm a professional.)
Me, Simona, and my roomie Jena, with her friend Ashley that came to visit from London.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
A list of goals
In light of recent events, I've begun to compile a short list of things I want to accomplish in this life. Nothing big, and certainly more needs to be added, but a good way of putting my thoughts down and realizing what is important to me, even if it seems trivial.
1. Learn to play the guitar. My voice may make ears bleed, so in turn I will suffer from eternally blistered fingers.
2. Have half as many friends as my grandparents do in their 80's. If I can do that, I know I'll have people around me that truly care.
3. Sew my own clothes. For some reason, I just want to.
4. Learn to fix a bike. Living here proves this to be relevant knowledge that I apparently lack.
5. Bake a batch of cookies that isn't flat. I need to master this to get anywhere, in my opinion.
6. Meet someone famous. Maybe they won't be on the front pages of magazines, but being famous to me counts one hell of a lot.
7. Stop over-thinking. Bad quality of mine.
8. Keep a journal. Preferably written.
9. Read Love in the Time of Cholera. It sits next to my bed, I look at it everyday, and it is yet to bed read.
10. Write something that makes a difference to someone, somewhere.
1. Learn to play the guitar. My voice may make ears bleed, so in turn I will suffer from eternally blistered fingers.
2. Have half as many friends as my grandparents do in their 80's. If I can do that, I know I'll have people around me that truly care.
3. Sew my own clothes. For some reason, I just want to.
4. Learn to fix a bike. Living here proves this to be relevant knowledge that I apparently lack.
5. Bake a batch of cookies that isn't flat. I need to master this to get anywhere, in my opinion.
6. Meet someone famous. Maybe they won't be on the front pages of magazines, but being famous to me counts one hell of a lot.
7. Stop over-thinking. Bad quality of mine.
8. Keep a journal. Preferably written.
9. Read Love in the Time of Cholera. It sits next to my bed, I look at it everyday, and it is yet to bed read.
10. Write something that makes a difference to someone, somewhere.
11. Find someone who I can tell why I secretly love my nose.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Coolest thing, ever!
In Utrecht, ESN was basically a joke. The Erasmus Student Network basically holds tons of parties, encourages you to drink a lot, make new friends, and become a real global citizen, with a few 'educational' field trips thrown in every now and then (not like I ever went on one...)
Anyway, cool idea. A train for 3 weeks, starting and ending in Bratislava (thats in Slovakia, in dun dun dun...EASTERN EUROPE, folks) going to some 40 cities along the way, with the capacity to fit 700 people per night. You can hop on and hop off. For 30 euro a night. Pretty cool, but the exhaustion seems overwhelming.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
And I've become...a tea drinker.
What??? You ask, knowing full well I consistently REFUSE to order fresh brewed iced tea, Lipton Peach iced tea, your grandmother's favorite down home summer drink special recipe iced tea, hot tea of any kind (too many years in the restaurant industry makes you bitter towards getting tea or, god forbid, HOT WATER WITH LEMON!), iced tea out of a box, mint tea, loose leaf tea, chamomile, black, green, or fruity. Nope, nope, nope I've always said, with such resistance you would think I was talking about raw tomatoes (bleh.)
But suddenly, I've changed. Maybe it happened when I came to Denmark and was too poor to afford 6 dollas for hot water and a bit of flavor. Or maybe it was the peer pressure and consistent insisting on drinking tea while at someone else's house (Silly Euro's and their tea..) Or maybe it was thinking, "hmm. It's cold, and I want something warm that isn't coffee." Whatever it is, I've turned a new page, started a new chapter, and am well on my way to finishing the book of weird things in my life that randomly change.
Nevertheless, I'm now rather obsessed with this age-old beverage we refer to as "tea." It just seems to make me happy. Peach mango, peppermint, lemon zinger, wild berry, basic green, and even chamomile! The possibilities are endless. But more exciting than the tea itself may be the wonderous invention called a water kettle. Put water in, turn on, wait 15 seconds and BAM! Boiling water. No sitting and watching the stove, no awkward trying-to-pour-scalding-hot-water-from-said-pot-into-tiny-coffee-mug, nothing. Just pure, unadulterated, warm tea lovin'. It's like a bear hug to your stomach.
I even bought a carton of iced tea yesterday, from a store. To drink cold. Maybe I'm just hoping one day I'll be outside drinking it in the sunshine... (work on that, Danish weather gods. People are getting sad here. And when I say people, I mean me. I need sun.)
But suddenly, I've changed. Maybe it happened when I came to Denmark and was too poor to afford 6 dollas for hot water and a bit of flavor. Or maybe it was the peer pressure and consistent insisting on drinking tea while at someone else's house (Silly Euro's and their tea..) Or maybe it was thinking, "hmm. It's cold, and I want something warm that isn't coffee." Whatever it is, I've turned a new page, started a new chapter, and am well on my way to finishing the book of weird things in my life that randomly change.
Nevertheless, I'm now rather obsessed with this age-old beverage we refer to as "tea." It just seems to make me happy. Peach mango, peppermint, lemon zinger, wild berry, basic green, and even chamomile! The possibilities are endless. But more exciting than the tea itself may be the wonderous invention called a water kettle. Put water in, turn on, wait 15 seconds and BAM! Boiling water. No sitting and watching the stove, no awkward trying-to-pour-scalding-hot-water-from-said-pot-into-tiny-coffee-mug, nothing. Just pure, unadulterated, warm tea lovin'. It's like a bear hug to your stomach.
I even bought a carton of iced tea yesterday, from a store. To drink cold. Maybe I'm just hoping one day I'll be outside drinking it in the sunshine... (work on that, Danish weather gods. People are getting sad here. And when I say people, I mean me. I need sun.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
