Pinky Rocko - Part 3

Lets talk about politics, immigration, sexism, and celebrities Saturday, 19 May 2012 - 15:03: Publications; Comments

Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser

April 4, 2007 | Author: Pinky

This scathing book evoked horrifying images of simple disregard for human kind and egregious cruelty to animal. The author advanced his arguments with facts and data along with extensive research on the issue of what goes into our fast foods and, more importantly, what does not.

Schlosser exposes the insidious lies and fraudulent misrepresentations corporations are spewing from their high posts. He takes the reader on a journey of the history of the fast food world, the people behind the famous burgers and the evolution of the burger from its drive-up days to its present day drive-thru, fast food, conglomerate. The homogenization of the business and the monopoly of the market has made McDonald’s as powerful in business as it is in American politics. Schlosser noted the trend that McDonald’s has penetrated markets in Asia and Europe and has wielded more and more political power through its injection of capitalism in the local economy. Provocative and thought provoking, this book stands out above the rest. It descriptively and honestly discusses the corporate McDonald’s that only few can fathom.

Schlosser does not use clever writing, twists, or plots to evoke the imagery in the minds of his readers – the truth speaks for itself. Once you read this, you will never look at a burger the same.

Fast Food Nation, by Eric Schlosser

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Two Months in Thailand

April 4, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Recoverd from the virus and was attacked by a foreign stomach ailment immediately after. Am I doomed to suffer the agony of malaria next? Are my small nephews sabotaging my meals in their futile attempt to remove me from their residence? On the bright side, at least I lost 4 lbs. since coming here, an attribution I place on the Thai diet wherein I remove fries, hamburgers, and Mexican food from the table. I’m still hopeful that McDonald’s will catch on and open the Chipotle chain here any day now. I love McDonald’s version of the fresh and spicy burrito. In case you are misled, I read Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser . Many have commented that sarcasm does not transcend via internet.

After surrendering my psyche to nothing but reading, eating, sleeping, and lounging by the pool, I committed the ultimate holiday sin – I inquired about compensable work!! This easing into living in Bangkok has taken its toll and the thought of infinite time unspent on logical and reasoned analysis and renumeration has made me indignant. Whilst many would prefer to have this lifestyle, I’m fast approaching cabin fever and started inquiring with a few firms regarding potential employment. Perhaps after grinding away 60 hours a week will afford me the appreciation of my lazy days.

In all reality, the last two months has not gone without emails and inquiries from a few colleagues and clients alike. My work was never completely wrapped when I boarded the flight to Bangkok, however, in this line of work, it truly is impossible to accomplish such task in a few months. While the residual work is dwindling, the next chapter is about to began.

While normally I have trepidation writing about issues related to my profession, the advocacy process has come to fruition and education is the final stage of this process, in order to galvinize the public to form a collective voice. If you’re interested in reading about it, it’s aptly named SSAD.ORG.

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Dog House

March 26, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Some people are so hypocritical it amazes me that they ever open their mouth!

After being refused entry into the UK to perform on his “Chaos” tour with P. Diddy, Snoop Dogg issued a statement that he wanted to spread the message of peace, harmony, and love.

He also went on to say that he wanted to reach out to kids to stop the violence. This hypocrite really irks me. It’s not that his music is demeaning to women, that a known gang banger and a drug user, but he’s also been the point of many altercations and has spent time in jail because of it. Now he’s going on record as the voice of peace?? A peace figure? Give me a break!

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Thailand – 1 month later

March 26, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Arrived in Thailand with little hassle but once I dropped my bags in my new home I was knocked out for three days with some sort of virus. After three days of insufferable high temperature and fatigue, I was finally able to crawl out of the apartment to get some sun and fun on the beach of Phattaya. Not one to point out coincidences, but it was also the weekend that two Russian women were found shot to death in the early hours on the popular Jomtien beach. Shockingly tragic that two women on a two week holiday would be found in such a gruesome murder just two days before their departure. Some are speculating that it was a hit by a foreign gang, however, police have captured the suspect in question with a full confession and reenactment of how the killing took place. That’s the interesting legal process of Thailand, once they have arrested the suspect, they then have them demonstrate how the crime was committed so to answer any lingering doubts about how it had transpired. Strange that is, yet making perfect sense.

Soon after returning from Phattaya, we decided to go to our next paradise beach, Bali. You have to remember that I have been yearning to visit this beautiful mystical place for 10 years now and have neglected to do so due to the two horrific bombings and recent Muslim insurgencies. Politically unstable and uncertain about the negative sentiment toward westerners, I have been putting off this trip for quite a while. Prevailing at the end were determination and cheap tickets, which resulted in me taking the plunge and booking a two week holiday in Bali.

Bali was fantastic, despite the dirty beaches and crowded, uneven sidewalks. Not surprising that it is a haven for Australians on short holidays and popular package tours for the Japanese and Taiwanese. While we were told that this was low season, meaning fewer tourists and cheaper hotel rooms, we were not disappointed.

The beaches were somewhat disappointing as I’ve long thought that they were pristine and white as the powdery stuff usually found in some beaches in Thailand and Boracay in the Philippines. Tried not to be deterred by the brown beaches, we decided to find some meaningful relaxation and pool time. The hotel was extraordinary as we were treated with the utmost care and courtesy. We did a lot of sightseeing in Lovina (northern tip of the island) and Ubud (more central but an art lover’s dream), but stayed mostly in Kuta for some sun and sand and fresh seafood. As I didn’t have access to a computer (I left my laptop at home as we thought it might be too much hassle) I started my journal and detailed all the little things we did. It got quite arduous as I’m still trying to complete the journal on Bali! It is what it saids, an island of temples. According to certain historical experts in Balinese culture, every family must have a temple where they live, and if two families should reside together, then either a bigger temple must be erected or two instead of one. Fascinating was the temple umbrellas that come in many different vibrant colors but each have the same structure for its functionality. Temples everywhere!

Ubud was the highlight of the trip. Art galleries to suit any impressionist, abstract, modern art lover. The detail of each piece can be appreciated by true artists and amateurs alike. Astounding to see so many intricate and complex pieces sitting side by side next to ubiquitious galleries throughout Ubud. We will definitely return to this little art heaven in the future and purchase some for our humble bode.

What can I say about Kuta, Bali? Lots of booze, which I hardly perused, and lots of lovely, friendly people. The island is rich in culture and history and one only need to scratch the surface to find the infinite undulation of arts and crafts unique to Bali. We did partake in the local Brembali wine, made mostly in Bali and obviously made for the Balinese palate. It’s complexity was only surpassed by its coarse and unrefined texture. While we enjoyed the contrast, we made note to self that Bali was not where we wanted to buy our wine from. On the contrary, Arak is a liquor that we will most definitely introduce to our friends in our own concoction of what is only known, aptly so, as an Arak Attack.

Got back from Bali and realized we still have another 2 weeks so we took off to Koh Samet, a pretty beach resort about two hours or so from Bangkok. It was crowded and pricey but the sand was white and the sea was turqoise. Can’t really complain as it was another beach with more time on our hands. Yes, it is hard beaching.

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Anna Nicole Smith

February 27, 2007 | Author: Pinky

The scathing headlines are ubiquitous. Blond bombshell found dead in hotel casino with no obvious cause of death while baby and lover are nowhere to be found. If it was any other woman, the headlines would end there and people would turn their attention to what Tom Cruise and his cohorts are planning for the Church of Scientology. Or what Beyonce is wearing, or where Madonna will adopt her latest accessory. This is not the case as it is the weight chameleon Anna Nicole Smith, spokesperson for the diet drink Trimspa.

The media outlets, from frivolous Entertainment Tonight to substantive NPR, have been exploring the mysterious circumstances surrounding her untimely demise. They speculated on the apparent drug abuse, haphazard dieting regimes, and interviewed scores of friends and family to get their take on what happened. Particularly interesting is the interview on Larry King Live with Chyna, the female wrestler proclaiming to be Smith’s confidante and best friend. Chyna was undermined by another woman on the show who claimed that Smith had despised Chyna and called her a stalker. It seems Smith has not spoken to Chyna in years and avoided any association with Chyna. The subject of Smith’s death became secondary to the brewing catfight between the two women. Television at its best on Larry King Live.

While any death is tragic, regardless of celebrity status, no death deserves this sort of blow by blow account of the whats, hows, and whys of the cause of death. The fact that Smith left behind a 5 month old baby is disheartening. She died in the same messy way that she lived is somewhat interesting, but 24 hour coverage on her death is neither entertaining nor newsworthy. Smith’s ultimate legacy is marrying a billionaire oil tycoon followed by a decade of litigation after his death. This is not worthy of 24 hour coverage.

The issue with the media is that everyone seems to gobble up the same sound bites hour after hour and as little sheep, the general public is transfixed in this ridiculous circus known as celebrity obsession. It seems everyone has an opinion about Smith’s death, whether they knew her or not. Confounding matters further, Smith’s own family seem to spearheading this media frenzy. What possesses people to tune in day in day out to find all the tidbits of this woman’s life? A deep concern for her family’s well-being? Probably not. An obsession with lifestyles of the rich and famous fueled by the vast arrays of entertainment news options? Probably so.

What became of our troubled astronaut, Lisa Novak? What became of Al Gore’s an Inconvenient Truth? Does global warming not have the same sex appeal as the the Church of Scientology’s quest for their latest celebrity couple? Apparently not. Until we start paying for the Discovery Channel and stop paying tribute to the glossy magazines at the checkout stand, the media will prevail in this battle between what we want to see versus what they think we should want see. The media will have us believe that the death of an irreverant celebrity has more significance than the fact that more Americans are medically obese then any other time in history, and the financial burden this has on our healthcare system. No, lets discuss how some shallow celebrities die and fall from fame, not issues such as global warming or healthcare, as that might provoke thought and action. Lets all say, “baaaahh!”

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Saying goodbye

February 16, 2007 | Author: Pinky

It’s come to that time where you have to face the music and do the inevitable “hasta la vista.” Like most average people, I dread the solemn emotions and the tortuous act of demonstrative affection. While deep in my heart I am heartbroken over the idea of not seeing these people for an extended period of time, I am quite distracted by the enormity of my upcoming travels. To be blunt, I have no time for trivial moments of pathetically inadequate goodbyes. There are places that I can’t even pronouced that I need to visit and pay homage to and have not done nearly enough research in preparation.

I truly love some of the friends I’m leaving behind, and will be greatly missed. I(Lets not count the people under 3 lbs. and named after a peanut.) Despite this radical change, it saddens me on a fundamental level to leave all this behind. I hate the fact my history has been stripped and on sale for trampling drunks to purchase. The clearance sale was up this weekend and I finally came closer to liquidating my precious car at a markedly reduced price. Depressed about the aspect of leaving my sister’s home (lets be honest, I moved out of my home weeks ago), and confounded about my future, I will venture into the predictable oblivion and sort out my next obscurity.Ã‚Â With all this on my mind, I have not been empathetic with the emotional turmoil of those staying behind.

I will try to continue to write on this journey while I transition to my new Pinky-esque world, I will need time to immerse in my new home: Thailand.

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Follow Up on Astronaut’s Predicament

February 8, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Of all the whacky news that I ingest daily, this astronaut angle has me confounded. Been mulling it over in my pinky head and cannot conclusively or satisfactorily digest what I’ve been reading. it boggles me that someone with such a stellar career and enviable success can be fallible on such a colossal level.

I devour every bit of published information on the web as to attempt to comprehend what would push a highly intelligent person to commit such a violent and despicable act. Some people inferred that she was perhaps momentarily insane, possible alcohol or drug induced, and caved to the intense pressure of her emotions. Some experts claim that she suffered from mental anguish, that pressure from her career and livelihood was unbearable and inexplicably destroyed her sense of rationale. While only Lisa Nowak can really attest to her mental state, it’s plausible that she was not prepared for pressure from her emotions – as we’ve all seen with OJ Simpson.

Shaking my head as I cannot imagine the rage or thought process Nowak must have experienced to cause her to risk her entire life, liberty, and family to pepper spray a woman that was interested in a fellow astronaut she allegedly was infatuated with. It’s deeply disturbing that someome as accomplished as Nowak can fall off the sanity wagon, as it signals to the rest of us that we’re screwed. If rationale did not prevail for Nowak, an engineer selected by NASA to fly in the space mission and to join their elite club of space incorps, then what hope does the rest of us have when our emotions strike us. Lets just hope we have a good criminal defense attorney, or is one.

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Lisa Novak an Astronaut’s Love Triangle Debacle

February 7, 2007 | Author: Pinky

This peculiar situation has created a media frenzy which leaves many with the mind-boggling, head scratching question; what was she thinking?

Lisa Novak is no ordinary individual. She has an accomplished, stellar career in the elite club of the U.S. astronaut corps, a predominantly male club that she ingratiated herself into. Not only has she beaten the odds by being one of the few women who have been on a space mission, she has accomplished this before age 50 and simultaneously managed to raise three kids at the same time. After extensive psychological testing and rigorous training, Novak was selected to venture on the July 2006 space mission where she was in charge of one of the robotic arms of international space shuttle. Since the United States chose the first seven astronauts for its Mercury manned space program in 1959, only 321 U.S. citizens have been admitted to the elite ranks of those with the elusive “right stuff” to fly in space.

Considering the level of scrutiny and security clearance that Novak underwent, it evidently did not registered that she might be emotionally unstable when it comes to her personal love life. Evidently she took meaningful measures to ensure that every detail was calculated for prime execution, an attribute of her NASA training. While she appears to be a successful professional woman, personally she may have been obsessed with gaining the affection of another fellow.

What would drive a brilliant astronaut to take calculated measures to harm another person? While these are allegations in the early stages of a criminal investigation, it’s analogous to the OJ Simpson freeway chase; innocent people do not carry weapons or a large amount of cash with them any time during or after the suspicious act. As incredulous as the revelation that OJ Simpson has written a book about what if he had killed his ex-wife and her male friend, it’s fascinating to watch the events unfold in Novak’s love triangle story. Perhaps she was driven to the point of insanity and allowed her emotions overcome her good sense. Perhaps she thought that with NASA’s backing she could get away with murder. More likely than not it was probably an exaggerated account of what is a colossal miscommunication.

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Woman Goes Missing for 25 Years After Boarding Wrong Bus in Thailand

February 7, 2007 | Author: Pinky

What the ???

After reading the latest news on events occurring in Thailand, it gave me pause on my questionable decision to move to Thailand. The lost woman and I have much in common; neither speak the local language, traveling alone, and dark enough to be mistaken for a native in the remote tribal village. Upon hearing the dismal news of her years of confusion and bizarre mishaps, I was filled with doubts of my luck if I were stranded in Thailand. How long would it take Hubby to realize I was missing, and how long would he search before calling off the rescue? Definitely before 25 years.

It took the lady 25 years before she was “discovered” by three students who were training in the area and spoke her dialect. Only then was she able to explain her obtuse predicament. What does not reconcile in my mind is how she was unable to learn the language after that many years in Thailand. After a year or two she should have been able to converse on a basic level whether verbally or physically, that she was lost. While it’s true that uneducated people may not have the organized structure to learn another language later in life, it would appear plausible that after a decade that she would find a way to communicate to the authorities that she has 8 kids at home and was hopelessly lost. What happened in that time? Why was the jungle woman in Vietnam found after 18 years and it took this woman 25? Why does it only happen to women?? Are women that inept at direction?

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Tax the Fat

February 5, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Was in London a few months ago and saw the most obscure and thought provoking documentary in as many years, called “Tax the Fat” by Giles Coren. The young, slim fellow on the TV was charismatic and articulate, he had an important point to make and made no bones about couching it in a comedic fashion. His point was succinct and direct, fat people should be taxed accordingly. Coren advanced his argument on the controversial issue on the Daily Mail.

While he claims that fat people place more of a financial burden on healthcare, he neglected to provide creditable sources to back his position. (Making statements regarding the low discipline and morals of those with categorical morbid obesity may trigger explicable backlash unless supported by a renown institution of medical science.) Nonetheless, he made some valid points. Fat people are treated alike and respond similarly regardless of where they live. They require special accommodation, and usually at the expense of the populace, and unabashed about requesting special treatment due to their weight. The problem is most obvious when you’re on a 10 hour flight and the person next to you is spilling over to your seat and making it nearly impossible for you to sit comfortably. Less obvious is how your medical insurance seems to increase every year when your visits to the doctor has not increased in the last five years. What have you done to deserve the increase?

Fat people have excuses for their weight that ranges from slower metabolism to thyroid problems. The documentary guy dispelled these myths by interviewing a nurse practitioner to explain whether these excuses were just that, excuses. She concurred that the inherent problem with overweight people is that they simply eat too much. No one person has a faster or slower metabolism than another. Discipline and exercise eliminate the majority of health risks associated with weight gain. Simply put, fat people need to eat less and exercise more.

There were more said in this documentary, but I was preoccupied with the uncontrollable laughter emanating from the pit of my stomach. After picking myself up from the floor, I discussed the matter further with Hubby, who was adamant that legislation should be passed to execute this forward thinking business of curbing healthcare costs. It’s fundamentally unfair to require moderately slim people who rarely utilize the medical system to have to bear the burden of paying more because some people do not have the same discipline to curb their appetite. We blame the media for promoting super size meals, conventional science for not creating a slim fast pill, and sore joints for not exercising – but we rarely blame ourselves for not controlling our food intake.

The documentary guy was not jesting about this fact, he persuasively demonstrated the danger of not exercising and the need for a quick fix. So the only solution is to tax the fatties. We charge smokers more, polluters are fined, speeders are jailed, so why not tax those that burden our healthcare system? While I was not completely against this novel idea, a part of me prefers to have the option of becoming fat one day and not having to pay taxes for my bonus self. Why should I have to pay taxes twice, first when I purchase that extra pound of Krispy Kreme donut, and again when it transforms itself onto my thighs? That’s simply unfair, I should only be charged once for the pleasure of injecting myself with glucose. Lets tax the skinnies because they make the fatties look healthy.

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Homeless

February 1, 2007 | Author: Pinky

As of today, we are technically homeless. No meaningful humble abode to declare our own, and no desirable land to claim as our future home either. So now that we’ve relinquished our permanent residence so to venture into the oblivion world of Southeast Asia, we’re experiencing bittersweet emotions and deep doubts deriving from our questionable decision.

Today we turned in the keys to our home, tighten the knot on our suitcase, and confirmed our Asia bound flight. It is the inevitable time where we must bid farewell to our few friends and far too many family members so that we must commence our journey into what our little hearts have been beckoning us to do. As I leave this little town that I have grown to love and endure, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if we canceled our tickets and terminate our immediate plans to abandon mother and our personal history. While it would conceivably be much the same as it was the week prior, it would most definitely confine our exotic expectations of our future. It would prematurely hinder our plans to litter our personal belongings in Europe and Thailand, nevermind the havoc it would wreak on our family and friends who have found new companions to replace us. What would you do with the replacement set if the originals are still hovering about??

While I jest about canceling my plans, I do realize that leaving this little town is not only inevitable, but is mandatory. If we were to stay we would never truly experience or realize our dreams of living abroad, we would never discover the innate traveling bugs, and we would never fully recover the costs of canceling the tickets. What will be most regrettably will be the profoundly priceless moments we will miss many sense. We’ll miss the secret jokes that friends share on intimate drinking occasions, the profound discussions regarding the weather, and the dinners with friends and family that will continue to occur without us. Those things are beyond what money can buy and for that, we wish someone had come up with a method wherein we can insert special moments of our lives into little glass bottles so that we can keep it sacred in our kitchen pantry.

At this juncture we can only fiercely, albeit questionably, forge ahead. As pinkies, we truly appreciate that courage is doing the thing we fear the most. It’s either that or foolishness, but at the end of the day, who cares?

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Two weeks…

January 22, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Sitting in our nearly empty place we realized that our plane tickets are non-refundable and our itinerary does not involve a return to square one, here. Sadly it is too late to change our minds and too soon to give up. Bags packed, TV sold, mattress sold, plates and cups gone too. Seems there’s nothing left to pack that hasn’t already been sold, given away to friends, or donated to the local alley hobos.

Less then two weeks before we join the pack of fearless backpackers called to the world of Buddhist temples and pristine beaches, a place well known as Thailand. Seeing that Hubby and I have even picked our foreign Thai names so to fool the cab drivers that we’re no average farangs who inhabited and brutalized their beaches and complex culture. (Hubby is Svoriko and I’m Ningning.)

Many asked us if we’re excited, of course this is usually the question after they’ve regained composure, picked their jaw from the ground, once learning that we are moving to Thailand and not England, Paris, or Australia. The follow up question is what will we do there, and then to make some sort of comment along the lines of how they’d like to come and visit one day. While I can’t speak for Hubby, I can truly say that I thoroughly do not enjoy repeating myself in this manner. It’s equivalent to a certified declaration under penalty of perjury that you are duly obligated to commit to, or else be held a liar. While I’d like to have a concrete plan as to my future, I can only affirm that my ultimate intent and mission is to live my life to the fullest, be it in Thailand or the States, and with the support of friends and family.

Hubby wants a meaningful opportunity to view employment as optional rather than compulsory. As we’re both established in our careers, at least for another two weeks, we’re elated that this opportunity has arisen. As we forge ahead, just like the Jungle woman of 18 years, we will be retrained to appreciate Thailand and its elaborate presentation with deep history and friendly people. Sawadee kha!!!

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Karaoke

January 21, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Went out last night to grab a quiet drink and a non-franchised burger, only to encounter the Karaoke caravan from the land of the American Idol wannabes. When gf, Hubby, and I entered, we noticed the sparkling, scintillating lights overhead, the high volume on the big projector shooting eighties videos above the Karaoke machine, and the eclectic group that composed of people that were either over 40 or flamboyantly gay. Being relatively exhausted after a long and arduous day of lifting heavy boxes and cleaning, we were not deterred by a few eccentric characters.

After ordering drinks and food, we slowly realized the full magnitude of our decision to patronize this restaurant. As the music came to halt, we heard the MC announcing what was sadly inevitable, that Karaoke was about to begin and it was absolutely necessary that we search the binders for a song suitable for our turn at the Karaoke stage. We shook our heads and watched in disbelief as one person after the next walked the stage and expelled their rendition of Elton John, Alanis Morrisette, Stevie Nicks, and Jewel. The American Idol hopefuls had one common denominator, they were the size of what a person would look like had they consumed 3 hamburgers about 4 times a week for the last 10 years. That’s equivalent to a qualified candidate for gastric bypass surgery. Saying this though, I must give full credit to the fact that they could all sing brilliantly, despite the visual distraction.

Weight aside, some of them had true potential and all of them must have been religiously practicing at home for the last 5 years as no one can randomly or spontaneously sing that well. Hubby commented that this was the first Karaoke event he’s attended wherein the singers could actually sing. With talent like this, Hubby noted, they would have to pay him an exponential amount of money, or strong alcohol, to get him near that stage. When gf and I stopped laughing we agreed that some of the singers should be auditioning for American Idol.

Our food arrived and we were promptly informed by the MC’s assistant that we had to pick a song (a la Madonna, Ice Ice Baby, The Humpty Dance, or perhaps the Tequila song), and work the stage or else she might lose her job. I commented that hopefully she has a paying day job and gf added that she needs a good attorney. The assistant looked at us, offered to get us Tequila shots to soften the mood, and thankfully, wandered off to the next table.

More interesting and less outlandish, was the fact that a middle aged blind couple signed up individually for their round at the Karaoke stage, and was surprisingly on cue with the lyrics. It was astounding to see how accommodating the audience became and the reception was overwhelming, albeit pretentiously so. Almost.

It was an interesting, satisfactory evening. There was no pity drink from the bartender, no free drink from the eye stalker from the bar, and no calling Binlaw at 4 am to remind him that he needs to keep the purses at room temperature. While the food was boringly average, gf would disagree as she woke up the next morning to nausea and some unpleasantness. At least the beer was cold and the unexpected entertainment was priceless. Anyone touring through the USA should experience this egocentric bit of American culture, because it makes one truly appreciate the Karaoke in this nation.

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Woman found after 18 years in a jungle

January 19, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Had time to talk to gf today while driving to the the city of great malls to buy gifts for Binlaw and immediate relatives. Apparently there’s some strange stuff going on outside of this nicely polished bubble we live in. A woman was found in the mystical jungles of Cambodia after she had been missing for 18 years. In all honesty, when you’re missing for that long, you’re no longer considered missing, rather you’re presumed dead and usually by some vicious, unimaginable manner that only fans of Japanese horror movies can comprehend.

While talking to gf about this bizarre bit of news, it occurred to me that this is not nearly as tragic or devastating as the inevitable “retraining” she will have to endure to be acclimatized to living in socialist Vietnam. At least in the jungle she led a simplistic, almost ideal life of utopia that only wild animals and uninterrupted nature can provide. She wakes up at whatever hour according to her whim, or usually when hunger becomes unbearable, and forage for food provided by nature, or in this instance, by human. She had no demanding, grueling work schedule, and did not have to tolerate the asinine higher authority called boss from mid-management, who takes two hour lunches and unabashedly request that you pick up his girlfriend’s laundry every Thursday. No social pressure to wear that custom tailored suit, to own that yuppie inspired, energy efficient automobile, to comply with her parents’ expectations of 2.5 kids, or to be saddled with a procrastinating spouse that’s allergic to consistent, gainful employment.

The woman probably didn’t have to fend off gossipy, vindictive women who claim to be her committed friends, but the moment she leaves the room, they ridicule her latest haircut blunder or her substandard, discounted shoes. This is assuming that her animal friends lack the requisite human quality that sets us apart, and that she had “friends” in that aspect. She probably did not have to worry about whether her boobs were of the appropriate proportion, that her boots had to match her bags, or whether her weight overshadows her qualification for the job.

Despite all the positive, irrefutable possibilities, particularly when deliberate isolation and solitude is such an unacceptable commodity in this day and age, there are some potent aspects of life that the woman has clearly been wrongfully denied. Conversing with gf made me realized that it was that exact sort of meaningful exchange that the woman will never completely comprehend or fully appreciate. Further, the higher powers created liquid alcohol for very sound reasons, so negating the intoxicating effect of alcohol for that many years is pure lunacy.

She is a displaced refugee in her own family. Despite their substantial love for her, they have a long, tumultuous road ahead in preparing her to enter society with any semblance of expected normalcy. Why force her to humanize when she has had 18 years of pure, unadulterated bliss? Because all good things come to an end sometime.

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American women prefer to be….(gasp!) single

January 18, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Seems the US Census Bureau recently released data that more American women are saying no to marriage. This prima facie statement ambiguously indicates that 51% of women are living without a spouse when, in actuality, it also factors in women that have lovers/boyfriends/partners into that figure as being single. Legally this would be correct, however, it misleads its readers to believe that more women are choosing to live alone – which is an unlike phenomenon in an age of co-habitation without matrimony and the distorted media perception of the ideal heterosexual marriage.

Hypothetically speaking, if more women are choosing to live in un-wedded bliss, they should be commended for making that decision without caving to the social stigma or indulging society’s expectations of what is acceptable and not. Why should they have to split their family’s property in half at the time of separation? Why should they pay for family support when the relationship has gone awry? Why should it be fair to split your hard earned money with someone that had probably been smooching off your crappy income for years and now they want spousal support while they subsist with their new gf/bf? Well, that’s why unmarried women should be commended for making such a sound financial decision of not entering into the institution of marriage.

Lets be clear that married people are proffered certain tax breaks (a form of encouragement from the federal government to procreate homogeneously), reduced costs for medical services, and less ostracized stares at social gatherings.

Despite the benefits of marriages, it is further proof that you have membership in an antiquated, stagnant organization that serves to remind you that you are either socially inadequate or physically undesirable because you are not a card carrying member. That’s the sourly crap that is subconsciously infused into our daily dosage of TV watching and pop culture. Not disregarding the biological practicality of procreation, but do we really need another waifish celebrity wannabe?

Lets praise the women that took deliberate action to strike a balance between their financial independence and dogma of marriage. Next year, hopefully, more women will choose to divorce from the pressure to marry, marry, marry.

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Less than three weeks

January 17, 2007 | Author: Pinky

The last bit of history is littered around the living room and kitchen for the last minute stragglers, bargain basement vultures to come this weekend for the imminent House Sale. In all honesty, the sign should say Life For Sale, because every little spoon and fork has remnants of the unforgiving, and indefensible past. Pinky’s past.

Normally, I could easily discard the raunchy glittering Christmas cards, ridiculous cartoon Birthday cards, and cheap recycled red wine, but I cannot dispense with the unapologetic pink pig adorned in an Alcatraz uniform with the swinging baton. That history is irreplaceable. Almost criminal to dispose of with the rest of the $1 items floating around on the kitchen counter. Even the thought of liquidating it is seemingly sacrilegious.

Another artifact I discovered underneath all the files was the souvenirs purchased on our last trip to Thailand. Evidently we thought cheap coin bags would be ideal souvenirs, but miraculously, customs didn’t catch on at the airport. How many people would appreciate a coin bag shaped like little scintillating elephants? Apparently we thought many people would find it equally valuable.

House sale starts at 8 am, but nothing in it belongs to a house. Together it does equate to a home, however, in pieces it’s nothing more than useless abandoned junk on the sidewalk for people to rummage through. On a positive note, if it does survive the trash bin, it might become a part of someone else’s history. Pinky lives on!! (Well, for another three weeks anyway.)

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New York City

January 17, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Early this week the decision was made that New York City was the ideal place to celebrate my birthday, along with Binlaw’s and gf’s birthdays. It seems fundamentally unfair that anyone would have to share a birthday, especially considering there are 300 million people in the US alone. Statistically, it would be impossible NOT to share a birthday with somebody, however, not impossible to share it with someone you know. In my instance, I know at least four people who share the same birthday month, fortunately only two of them are keen on celebrating it with me. Much to my chagrin, the other two had to check their calendar…

Having to share a special occasion, such as a birthday, may diminish some of the sacredness inherent in the day itself. What to do? Categorically ignore them and narcissistically promote the day as yours? Invite them to YOUR birthday party and using a highly amplified microphone, announce that it’s your birthday and insist that they sing to you alone. Tell them the party is at a different location than where it’s actually at, just to deter them from ever making it to your party. If they should inquire later, tell them it was a ‘surprise’ birthday party.

Alternatively, go to New York City with the other two birthday people and have a drunken blast! Just make sure you make them wear T-shirts that saids, Happy Birthday to Pinky!

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Celebrities

January 14, 2007 | Author: Pinky

Once in a while, I dare to detour to the surreal utopian world of celebrities, wherein I inject my superfluous opinions on what Google assessed as the Most Popular subject on the internet that day. Presently, it is about the Beckhams moving to the silicone addicted, reality challenged world of Hollywood, and the current heated debate is whether the omnipresent and Scientology advocate, Tom Cruise, had any role in making that happen. To be honest, does it really matter that they are relocating to Hollywood because of Cruise’s influence, or that personally, the Beckhams wanted desperately to be immersed with similarly I.Q. challenged compadres who can relate to what it’s like to be publicly adored and intimately shallow in life?

The poignant relevancy is that the most superficially acceptable, media approved couple, is moving to the continent of the USA where assets like that alone would make them millions in publicity. Welcome to Hollywood, where no talent or brain is required. (Got Paris Hilton?)

Ladies, we are talking about the ubiquitously perfect male, David Beckham. While I vehemently despise any type of perfection, be it metaphysical or physical, which is an extremely rare and absolutely unattainable commodity on my budget, I must acknowledge that it is David Beckham, the small god of all men! In recognition of my fame obsession problem, David Beckham is arguably the closest thing to perfection. THE golden Beckham that always has a boyish smile on his flawless face, ex-captain of the salvaged English football team, and long term spouse of the equally impeccable Victoria Beckham, ex-Spice girl that generated catchphrases such as girl power.

The general obsession with celebrities and their dating antics has gotten to a shamefully astounding level in the USA. Celebrities get more press coverage on their disastrous relationship decisions than the fact that George W. Bush just committed more troops to the Iraq war, or that Saddam Hussein was hanged in a fashion that ironically, turned him into a martyr instead of the merciless, cruel dictator that he truly was. With all the devastating events emerging from all parts of the world, Google informs us that the Beckhams story is more popular based on the number of hits and headlines than the tragic Indonesian jetliner crash that killed over 100 people.

People might think that this rings close to a psychotic rant from a registered left-winged democrat, but on the contrary, this is an observation of the stark reality created by an abundant coverage of celebrities in their gloriously shiny dresses and meticulously styled hair. A popular USA news program called 20/20 recently did an expose titled “Are we addicted to fame?” wherein an astonishingly amount of middle schoolers heavily indicated on a survey that they’d rather be a celebrity assistant than a President of Harvard or Yale; the CEO of a big company like General Motors; a U.S. Senator; or a Navy SEAL. According to the report, most believe that fame would resolve all their problems, and even though being famous was not an option on the survey, being close to a celebrity was just as desirable. In fact, when asked if they could push a button to be smarter, stronger, beautiful, or famous, it was nearly shocking to discover that most students picked fame over intelligence and looks. What does that say about the future populace of America?

One can only hope that they are the silent, apathetic part of America, otherwise what we have to look forward to is Arnold Schwarzengger and Warren Beatty as President and Vice President, respectively. In order to curb this obsession with celebrities, our personal mission is to advance a proper mechanism of cold indifference and solidify disregard for movie stars.

If David Beckham is the media’s next convoluted inspiration for impeccable muscles and golden looks, then we should applaud the fact that he’s transitioning to Hollywood, because he will be in good company with the likes of Brad Pitt and George Clooney. These actors spend hours with their stylist and make-up artist just so they can look “natural.” While we can certainly appreciate the celebrities’ physiological perfection which only substantial money can buy, we must indiscriminately exclude them from becoming a part of our subsistence living. The general populace shop at their local discounted department stores and is a size 10, not two as the skinny talking heads will tell you on their daily entertainment show..

Do not buy the hype! Reality is not based on what you see in glossy magazines and on the big screen. Turn off the TV and cancel your subscription!

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Mothers are hard to hate…

January 12, 2007 | Author: pinky

I have been trying, albeit on a somewhat inconsistent basis, to find a way to disengage from my parents, and have frustratingly concluded that it’s like removing the white from the rice that Asians are partial to. It is hard enough to handle your own baggage, dealing with your intellectually challenged asinine boss, failed relationships and unremarkable experiences, then to have to deal with the residual dysfunctional issues from your organic producers.

While some people cleverly develop a natural inclination to detour from any familial ties, I find it quite arduous to sustain any egregiously negative emotions toward my mother. While I can disengage from certain friends, and even Hubby at times, I simply cannot flip off the emotional switch when it comes to mother. Perhaps it’s the nature of mothers that makes it inconceivable to just not give a toss.

Mothers are hard to comprehend and neglect because regardless of the countless incidents of inexplicable failures and social disasters in your life, they are always there. Few siblings, not to mention friends, will stick around after the first few puke sessions, let alone a life time of it. Mothers always seem to worry about your daily nutritional intake, your conspicuous cough or sneeze, and your struggling career, something that most people barely feign interest in. Despite the misguided ineptness you feel because you dishearteningly think you never seem to measure up to their notion of the ideal son or daughter, you never truly feel like an outsider or disregarded in their life in the same fashion that friends or spouses may make you feel.

Perhaps my perspective on mothers is predisposed because I only have one parent, and ostensively abandoning her while I gallivant off to Thailand has put me in an emotional pickle. Confounded by sporadic episodes of guilt and depression, I have resorted to writing down all the things I would like to say to mother prior to departure. I’ve taken some proactive measures by scribbling on my invisible notepad all the things I want to coherently articulate, meanwhile mentally preparing myself for the likelihood of a psychotic breakdown accompanying her reaction. In anticipation of said breakdown, I’ve prepared three strategic responses to her apprehensive reaction.

Tell her the trip may be relatively short, and with the inevitable failure of my mission to acclimatize to living abroad, that she will probably see me within three months begging for unrecompensed room and board.

Tell her that I will have a particularly astonishing ocean view apartment in Thailand where she is welcome to come and stay for as long as she wants.

Tell her that Hubby plans to financially support me while I laze around in the lap of extended vacations and life of luxury and decadence, a life which she would be proud of.

While I’m cautiously optimistic of the measurable truth in each scenario, I must be prepared for the consequential worst case scenario, wherein she spews a self-righteous tirade about how thoughtless I am for barbarically abandoning her in my pursuit of a surreal utopia. I hope that’s not the case. Mothers do not practice cruel kindness, right?

Even if she does thrust forward a tirade of guilt-ridden judgments about my mystifying decision to gallivant to Thailand, it’s disingenuous to deplore mother just because of the powerful, omnipotent love which involuntarily forces her to behave in this deranged, mentally unstable manner.

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Drunk Mover

January 12, 2007 | Author: pinky

I watched with apprehension and disbelieve as the dimwitted woman signaled to her drunken male friend to help her move the precious green sofa that she had just purchased from me. The disoriented man was heavily inebriated, and judging from the smell exuding from his breathe, he’d been in that drunken state for a few hours. Poor Hubby was the accidental victim of said stupor as drunk skunk kept shoving the heavy sectional toward him and pinning him against the wall.

On top of that, drunk skunk’s “assistant” further worsened my misery and pain as I helplessly stood by and watched them emasculate my furniture. Assistant proceeded to use her muddy shoes to carelessly stomp on a section of the sofa in her attempt to force it through the narrow hallway of my home. I presumed it never occurred to drunk’s assistant to maneuver the sectional and not force the thing to bend, but then again, judging by the company she keeps it’s easy to understand her misguided logic.

After helplessly watching for what seemed like hours, I finally gave up and retreated to my empty bedroom. Seems even the picture frame I have of my family is gone. While sitting on the floor of my dark and hallow room, I envision the drunk skunk and his assistant tearing off the edges of the sofa and ripping into the cushions while they attempt to negotiate it into their abode. Why did she ask her inebriated friend and his equally disabled assistant to help her? Rhetorical question as she’s in good company.

There’s only two explanations for this perplexing behavior. They’re either not very good friends, which logically flows from the way they mistreated her new sofa, or they were preemptive about the three day weekend ahead. Either way, the utter lack of respect and conscientiousness shown to her new furniture appalled me on a fundamental level. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist, nuclear physicist, immigration attorney, or brain surgeon to know that things do not last if you mistreat it. Additionally, if you’re unfortunate enough to be volunteered into moving someone’s furniture, at least have the courtesy of removing your shoes before you stomp on their belongings, particularly when the astonished owner is glaring at you with jaw dropped!!

As I listened to them descend the stairs, I had another thought. Perhaps I can refund them their money, eject them from the house, and have the sofa shipped to the in laws. They seem to have plenty of storage space and eventually I’d make my way there to reclaim it along with my designer bags. Hmmmm… the only remaining issue is how to get Binlaw to agree to pay for the shipping cost.

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