Tuesday, December 19, 2017

A Message From Earth

This is a present from a small, distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our thoughts and our feelings. We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours.
— President Jimmy Carter, 1977

40 years ago, the Voyager spacecrafts launched while carrying two golden phonograph records containing sounds an images to portray life and culture on earth, and a message of goodwill to any extraterrestrial life forms who might encounter the Voyager 1 or 2.

WeTransfer has released a curated online collection inspired by the Voyager Golden Record, with updated messages of goodwill and portrayals of life on earth:

"The exhibition's intention is to relay a message of goodwill and encourage further exploration while raising awareness and funding for Astronomers without Borders, the Carl Sagan Institute at Cornell University, and the SETI Institute. WeTransfer is providing $10,000 grants to each institution to initiate public donations, and the project will be commemorated in a $15 limited edition zine with 100% of generated revenues going to the non-profits above."

You may learn more from the website A Message From Earth. It's quite mesmerizing and if you are of like mind to myself, you will welcome this respite from "reality" and the present situation of our earthly culture. 

The contents of the message are listed below, though the listing hardly signifies; I recommend actually experiencing the message online.

Preface: A comic of illustrations by Sophy Hollington telling the story and brief history of the original Golden Record.

1. Greetings: Wanda Díaz Merced, a blind astronomer who uses sonification to study interstellar events, presents a study of stars as heard on earth - with a selection of images curated by NASA's Rebecca Roth.

2. Music: In video conversations between BBC 6 Radio's Gilles Peterson and leading international musicians living in London, Peterson explores the global influences of contemporary sound. Each musician discusses how their music is influenced by their world locally and globally, paired with one-hour musical mixes from leading DJs from their home country. Musicians include Christian Scott, Nubya Garcia, DJ Edu, Jordan Rakei, Maft Sai, DJ Lefto, DJ Soul Sista, and Dengue Dengue Dengue, DJ Juls, Nai Palm, Fatima Al Qadiri, and Luzmira (of Family Atlantica) Zerpa.

3. Sounds: An interactive, custom-designed sound collage generator allows visitors to contribute their own unique sound to the project, using and manipulating sounds produced by S U R V I V E, the group best known for scoring Netflix's Stranger Things.

4. Images: Photo essays from international photographers Chiara Goia, Albert Bonsfills, Luisa Dörr, Sasha Arutyunov, and Kent Andreasen focus on stories of hope, determination, and goodwill in the respective cities they call home.

5. Brainwaves: A series of 500-word pieces from artists, writers, and musicians explore the phrase "and somehow, somewhere, the record arrives…". Contributors include Aspen Matis, Charlie Skelton, Deepak Chopra, Hannah Giorgis, John Saward, Lawrence Krauss, Musa Okwonga, Nelly Ben Hayoun, The Range, Sara-Kate Astrove, Shelly Oria and Vera Chok.

Epilogue: An animated video collaboration produced in response to the question "do we matter?", with a musical score from Oneohtrix Point Never and Voyager short film by WeTransfer Studios.

Monday, August 21, 2017

the fragrant harbour

It's becoming very late in the season, but there are still some pockets of nature where flowers are blooming. Yesterday along a shaded path near Chai Wan, SB and I enjoyed the sweet, white floral scent of Vietnamese gardenia or cape jasmine, Gardenia (Kailarsenia) vietnamensis - which is not actually a gardenia at all. The flowers are very delicate and don't last for more than a couple of days, but the scent is very strong, sweet and creamy, much like many white tropical, floral fragrances.

The leaves are a beautiful deep green, waxy and robust in contrast with the delicate flower. The Vietnamese gardenia is one of my favorite flowers in Hong Kong, along with what I believe are Fagraea ceilanica next to the hockey pitches at the Happy Valley racecourse.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

hailing the king

Being  ignorant to local politics, as well and having returned from holiday last night, I was not aware that the “King of New Territories” Lau Wong-fat had passed. I found out after Googling whose funeral was today. My body was still in American time so I woke up early this morning and took a leisurely tram ride to the office in Quarry Bay. I was engrossed in my news reader, finding out about the antics of a certain Cheetos hued leader, when I was jolted into awareness by a strong perfume of lilies. I looked up to discover that we were passing the Hong Kong Funeral Home, which was surrounded to capacity with funeral wreaths. There were so many wreaths that they spilled into a park across the street. Down the road I would see workers from the flower shops approaching, laden with even more wreaths. If you were planning to take note of who paid their tributes, you would be making a long list.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

come along and ride on a fantastic voyage

SB has been on a fantastic voyage, and by fantastic I mean the Merriam-Webster definition 1-C and not in any way excellent.

When I bought the tickets on the United website, I was distracted by the very attractive price, followed by the relatively short journey time, and did not notice what has now become the most important part of the ticket offer: the code share and stopover location. Only after SB got to Airport Express did we start to have misgivings about flying Air China through Beijing. That two hour layover that was so attractive became a source of concern when taken with the fact that 60 percent of all Air China flights to Beijing are delayed by more than 20 minutes, ostensibly due to weather.

SB sat on the plane for an hour and a half due to "weather". When the plane landed in Beijing, it taxied for fifteen minutes before finding a gate. I phoned Air China in the meantime, having found a later flight, but I was told that SB needed to arrange the flight at the airport. He stood in a queue for two hours and was told that the other flight was booked and he needed to spend the night. He was offered a room to share with some other unlucky passenger, which he declined. Air China at least gave him a ride to the hotel that he paid out of pocket for. The ticket agent reminded SB that due to inclement weather, he would not be reimbursed for food or any other expenses incurred. SB wryly noted that it was sunny and calm all the way from Hong Kong to Beijing, but it was amazing that the flight was delayed due to weather. And by amazing, I mean the Merriam-Webster definition and not the common, broadened meaning; there was nothing slightly better than pleasant in the ordeal.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

all those jerks

SB has still not figured out his ring size. He may be getting a piece of string to tie around his finger. At least it won't detract from the watch that I bought for him. I'm more excited about the watch than I was about my engagement ring. I bought the model that is the closest to the original moon watch. SB about had a nerdgasm while visiting the Houston Space Center this past winter so I think that he will like this gift. I need to figure out how to keep it a secret because I'm so excited about it.

SB left this morning for his annual off-grid experience in the Adirondacks. He told me that he wouldn't miss his jerk dog one bit and then proceeded to lift the jerk dog onto the bed for some forcible cuddling. Elsie usually hates being on the bed but this once, she actually laid down and let out a long suffering groan, and proceeded to fall into blissful slumber. Tippytoes circled the bed like a shark, wondering why she was being left out. She doesn't speak English so I couldn't explain to her that Elsie was going to be abandoned for a while and SB needed to cuddle her. For her own good and not for him of course. I noticed that despite not caring one whit, SB was wearing socks to bed so that he could leave something behind that reminded her of his stinky feet.

I may want to strangle SB, especially right now that I am scrambling to mail the signed bar contract because he forgot yet another item, but I will miss that jerk also. Maybe Elsie and I can split the socks.

Monday, July 24, 2017

sunshine in the clouds

We have less than two months until our wedding and a few things have started to go off the rails. One of my bridesmaids can only arrive the morning of the wedding, though I think it is okay because I can just have her walk down the aisle after another bridesmaid and how hard can that be? The florist, an extraordinarily talented woman, has ghosted on me. I was becoming suspicious that this would be the case because I read some recent reviews from other brides discussing how she seemed to have disappeared. I'll figure out something...I hope. My father and sister are both insisting on reading for our ceremony despite SB and I wanting to keep the ceremony short and sweet. We already had a reader and a couple of readings chosen so this will extend the ceremony unless we cut out the reader who we invited.

Three couples who were invited to the wedding are eloping. This does not bother me but I am noting it because I think it's remarkable. I guess that love is in the air.

What finally did me in was on Saturday I discovered that SB had yet to complete any of the items on his list, and finally I experienced wedding jitters. Originally he was going to plan the wedding but I had to take over almost everything in February when I found out that he had done nothing, assuming with no actual, factual evidence that there was plenty of time. We lost the desired venue and desired caterers and I had to take over before we were left with no options at all. When I found out that he had not arranged the bar, had not ordered the custom shirts for his groomsmen, had not visited the tailor to order his blazer or his trousers....well, I freaked out and asked him if he really wanted to get married. This freaked him out and apparently he spent the whole day with a stomach ache at the thought that I wanted to cancel the wedding. He told me that he never for a minute had any second thoughts and why would I think such a thing? Well, let's think about this: if I heard from a friend that her fiance promised to plan the wedding but then did nothing, and then promised to at least sort out his clothing while the bride did everything else and then he didn't, I would advise her to have a serious talk with the groom about whether he really wanted to get married. 

Sunday's T8 weather seemed very fitting with my internal gloom at having had a major wedding fight with SB the night before. I was at the end of my rope with his ADHD related procrastination, more so with his denial of procrastination and completely bonkers justification for why he could't complete any task, which usually happens when he is really far gone down the path to destruction. When things are really bad, as in so low on time that there may be irreversible damage or unavoidable failure, SB will go into this emotional state where he becomes unreasonable and stubborn. He doubled down on his reasons why he can't confirm anything, which is a circular argument that he can't choose the blazer color without having the shirts and he can't order the shirts because he needs to confirm that they match with the blazer. I failed at trying to make him see reason and he insisted that while he has employed outrageous justifications for procrastination in the past, this time he was sure of his rightness. I am sure that he will finally admit that this is another case of procrastination induced insanity after he marries me in his underwear.

At 4pm I couldn't take any more gloom and we headed out into the hills for a short hike. As we reached the reservoir over Tai Hang Road, the sun broke through the clouds for just a moment before setting in a haze of orange. I realized that the bright side of SB showing up to the church in his underwear is that it will distract from my family reading endlessly from the pulpit. I made note to sign the bar contract without waiting for SB because alcohol might be the most important factor of the wedding. At the end of this, I will be married to the man that I love, whether I remember the event or not.

Monday, June 12, 2017


One of the comfort foods that a roommate used to cook was picadillo, a "mince" of ground beef with an assortment of added flavors. Her version of picadillo was influenced by her Mexican heritage and was made up of beef, tomato paste, cumin, onions, garlic, and potatoes. She ate it on tortillas.

It was only in graduate school when I was attempting to recreate her dish that my Cuban roommate told me that picadillo was Cuban, and the ingredient list was supposed to be far more complex. When I asked how to make the Cuban picadillo, he revealed that he couldn't actually cook so he didn't know. I turned to the internet, where I found a large variety of different recipes all purporting to be the authentic Cuban picadillo. I have decided that picadillo is similar to ragu, that there may be a hundred varieties of the "authentic" recipe.

My favorite recipe is the one from the New York Times. It has a perfect medley of savory and sweet. I have only tweaked it slightly, to add potatoes when I don't want to eat it with rice, and to more thoroughly brown the meat to get that delicious crispness.

Picadillo Recipe (inspired by the New York Times' Sam Sifton)

3 ounces dried chorizo, diced
2 medium-size yellow onions, peeled and chopped
4 medium-size potatoes, cubed (I prefer yukon gold)
4 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
1 ½ pounds ground beef
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 ripe tomatoes, chopped finely
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 tablespoons red-wine vinegar
1/2 cup white wine
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 bay leaves
Pinch of ground cloves
Pinch of nutmeg
⅔ cup raisins
½ cup pitted stuffed olives
3 tablespoons capers

Add the chorizo to a large pan at medium-high heat until the fat begins to separate. There should be at least 2 tablespoons of fat, or you may add extra virgin olive oil if there is less than 2 tablespoons of fat in the pan. Add the onions, potatoes and garlic, and stir fry for around 10 minutes, until the onions are soft and becoming translucent.

In a separate pan, add the ground beef, and allow it to brown, crumbling the meat with a fork as it does. Season to taste with the salt and black pepper. 

Add tomatoes, tomato paste, vinegar, white wine, cinnamon, cumin, bay leaves, cloves and nutmeg and stir just enough to combine. Lower the heat, and let the picadillo simmer, covered, for approximately 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Remove the cover and add the raisins, olives, and capers. Cook for another 15 minutes. You may serve this with white rice (traditional), tortillas, or over a root vegetable mash.

Friday, June 9, 2017

finally, relief

Feedly, the news aggregation app that I use, has unveiled a new filter where you can exclude certain words for a period of time. For example, if you have hit your saturation point with reading about the bleating of a certain bloated, bloviating, nuclear Cheeto, you can select his name and apply a mute filter. Oh, if only this filter worked outside of Feedly!

In other news, my attention was completely focused on the Comey testimony yesterday and I missed that the UK election was going on. I am not educated on the ins and outs of UK politics so I don't know exactly what the exit polls results mean to the future leadership. I did enjoy listening to two colleagues discussing the possibilities. It was a welcome change from discussions over US politics, which have been painful of late.

I'm still hoping that I was hit by a bus and all this has been a bad dream resulting from my six month coma.

Friday, June 2, 2017

Mississippi is still burning

After watching a news report about a noose that was left at the National Museum of African-American History and Culture, my friend had to explain to her 8 year old son the historic meaning behind a noose. She wrote that his eyes filled with tears and he struggled to understand why black people were treated differently.

It led to a discussion with other friends about color blindness in children. I think that it is beautiful that children seem to be color blind, but it is also naive to be color blind when there is so much inequality still around us based on the color of someone's skin. I just wish that children could be innocent longer before we are forced to tell them about the world but the fact is that this racism is not usually in your face like a noose, or all of the recent "alt-right" attacks on foreigners and minorities. Racism can enter our lives early through seemingly innocuous acts that become normalized. Take my other friend who visited her daughter's daycare and was devastated to discover that her vivacious, talkative child was quiet and always lined up at the back of the queue to go out, and took her blanket to the outer edge of the group during nap time. I'm pretty sure that the teachers didn't overtly tell her that black kids were to be treated differently but somehow the four year old had figured out her place through social cues from the adults around her.

I remember watching a teenage classmate pat my sister on the head like a dog and tell her how cute she was. They were both high school seniors and this girl talked to my sister like she was something other. The worst part was that Samantha H probably thought that she was paying my sister a compliment. Samantha did not pat me on the head even though I was younger than them; I look far more white than Asian. Even now, I'm not sure what I would have done if I could go back in time to that moment. I hope that Samantha met other non-white people and learned. I hope that it is never too late to learn new lessons.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

coming together

Well, we are at the three month mark before our nuptials and most plans are still a mess but I'm not sweating because the important items are checked off. We have our ceremony and reception venues booked; we are getting married at Sage Chapel at Cornell and having our reception along the waters of Cayuga Lake at the Ithaca Farmers Market. I booked both in December and I am not only very, very excited about the locations, but I am somewhat smug because the Farmers Market quickly became booked for all months in the summer and autumn not long after I made my booking.

In a side story, SB and I were originally going to get married in the Adirondacks but I made the huge error of leaving him in charge of booking the venue that he has wanted to get married at for 30 years..and he in his procrastinating wisdom decided that there was no urgency. He didn't make the booking in August when we were actually in the Adirondacks at the venue, nor in the months following. When he eventually phoned in late December, he was shocked, just shocked that both of their two allowed summer bookings were taken. At the time, I was devastated but also highly annoyed but now I think that Ithaca is a blessing because a surprising number of international guests are coming and it would have been far more difficult to travel to the Adirondacks for people who can't drive. On a side note to the side story, can I just share how delighted I am that our international invitees are coming? I have become a watering pot about how wonderful it will be to see so many of our friends.

So this is where we are getting married: http://www.cornell.edu/tour/Sage_Chapel_Organ.

The bonus is that the bridal party will be assembled in the "Memorial Room" which is what I think that Cornell renamed the crypt to reassure squeamish brides. Being in a room filled with sarcophagi will send my vampire loving best friend into spasms of delight. 

And this is our venue: http://www.ithacamarket.com/

While I went into wedding planning with no known preferences, I discovered very quickly that I had some internal bias. As we looked at venues I discovered a strong preference to outdoor settings. This worked well with SB's desire to get married in his beloved Adirondacks. Unfortunately I also discovered a mild aversion to tents, which I knew that I needed to suck up because the weather in the Adirondacks involves a lot of sudden rain showers, even on the sunniest of days. Once our top choice became untenable, we began looking at venues at the Cornell Plantations and Ithaca wineries, but many included the need for a wedding tent. The perfect location was right there under our noses but we didn't see it. SB and I often visited the Farmers Market, but during daytime when the booths are full of vendors. Then I Googled "Ithaca wedding" and came across dozens of gorgeous images of the market at night. I knew that it was perfect. It was on the lake, sheltered from rain, and without walls so that we could enjoy the beauty of an Ithaca evening. SB was more than willing to agree to my request to bump down the level of formality in our celebration from semi-formal to cocktail/dressy casual attire and I happily phoned the farmer/manager of the market. 

And that, folks, is how I discovered that a "dream wedding" or at least a "dream location" had been lurking inside of me. 

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

call your representative now

The Attorney General, having had to recuse himself from the probe into Russia and Trump due to his own conflicts of interest, is the source cited by Trump for recommending the firing of Comey who was leading the probe into Russia and Trump. Call your representative now; this is not a partisan issue.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Hugo Rouillé

It has been several weeks and I think now maybe I can put a few thoughts to writing. I want to tell you about someone who was extraordinary, if you will give me a few minutes. I want to share this because I want to tell as many people as I can about Hugo and what a wonderful young man he was.

Hugo passed away at the age of 29 from an accident while riding his bicycle in Shek O. Even now I feel disbelief at the news. He was an experienced cyclist but accidents can happen, I know that. Just, it feels like the world has turned upside down when nothing is fair anymore.

At his young age, Hugo accomplished so much, which is heartening and yet bittersweet; one cannot help but think of all that was yet to come. That is in essence what gnaws at my stomach when I think about him: the stupendous potential for amazing things that he possessed.

Hugo was a plant engineer for the massive Tunnel Boring Machine that is out there near Yuen Long. As a bit of an infrastructure groupie, I was in awe of the project. I always wanted to visit the site though not as I did, to attend the Bai Sun that the company arranged to honor him. At the site I saw hundred of people from engineers to the construction crew who were deeply affected by his loss. This was not surprising considering how interested he was in each person that he met. SB told me that there was never a conversation that he had with Hugo in three years where he didn't walk away with a smile. Hugo was one of those people who made friends everywhere he went because he genuinely wanted to know you.

At the service that our rugby club hosted for Hugo, we met so many different people whose lives were touched by Hugo and it was astounding to realize how engaged Hugo had been with so many varied activities. He was an exceedingly talented rugby player and that is how I best knew him aside from the engineer, but we heard stories from members of the ultra running community who shared how Hugo was one of the 33 people who finished the 50/50 challenge put on by the 9 Dragons Ultra. They have retired his number 24 race number. The stairmasters held a moment of silence to honor him recently. Several runners shared anecdotes of chatting with him about a diverse range of subjects during some of the ultra-marathon events, revealing that they wanted to talk more but eventually succumbed to fatigue and had to tell Hugo to keep going without them.

Other people talked about Hugo's trip to Nepal last year and how he was in the process of planning a return. In lieu of flowers, Hugo's family is asking to donate to a Nepal NGO that supports children. Oh, and then there is his family. Each member of Hugo's family was just as fascinating and wonderful as Hugo, causing me joy and devastation. His father is a scientist, his mother is an education professional, his sister is an art historian...it hurt me so much thinking why, why, why why? Why Hugo who had so much to offer the world?

I don't have answers and I don't know how long it will take for this acute pain in my stomach to subside. I only know that I want to share with my readers who Hugo was. We have lost a most lovely and fascinating young man far too soon.

Thursday, February 16, 2017


So the conundrum...I am actively trying to avoid ranting about Donald Trump and have deliberately not posted any spiels; you can find plenty all over the internet that are more thoughtful, interesting and informative than anything I have to say. On the other hand, this blog is supposed to be a record of my life and it isn't truthful to omit current events as though they haven't been overtaking my thoughts and concerns constantly.

The reality is that I am deeply troubled by the turmoil in my homeland. I don't want to jump straight into invoking Godwin's Law but boy are there some concerns about a president who undermines the intelligence community, courts favor from authoritarians, attacks the judiciary for disagreeing with him, and generally seems unconcerned about the United States Constitution.

SB and I were in the air, having launched our CNY holiday, when the executive orders regarding banning refugees, legally admitted workers, and visitors from several Muslim countries were signed. We entered the San Francisco airport to a surreal situation: the lights seemed to be dimmed at the international terminal just outside of the Immigration security point and there was a strange drumbeat reverberating throughout the area. We turned the corner and saw hundreds of protesters screaming with palpable rage while facing stony faced security personnel in riot gear. As we walked through the terminal we passed several hundred more people who were rushing to join the protest, carrying signs and shouting angrily, "Let them in! Let them in!"

I broke down, crying. I could not help but think of my own family, and how they were desperate, downtrodden, homeless refugees only 40 years ago. The US welcomed my family with open arms. I don't want to think of what would have become of the Tran family if the president had decided to ban refugees from countries in conflict with the United States. A ban against people from communist countries, or against countries at war with the US would have been a death sentence.

Later, I saw the Twitter account Stl_Manifest, which memorialized the Jewish people aboard the St. Louis who were turned away by the United States in 1939 and later died in the Holocaust. I broke down some more. I am sad, I am angry, I am in bewilderment and shock. I don't know what has become of my country that we can be so inhumane.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

let's talk about mental health

On the MTR, two men got into a huff because they were crammed into a packed train car and kept bumping into each other. There was a lot of yelling and gesturing but that was all. Outside of my neighborhood local, a drunk man tried to pick a fight with another drunk man and their friends stepped in to calm them down. I think about this a lot - that we experience annoyance and offense as frequently in Hong Kong as we do in the US, but somehow we manage to avoid going lethal with our conflicts. All too often, we hear about arguments escalating into physical confrontations or worse. We have police forces that arm themselves like Rambo but are so terrified of certain stereotypical people that they fall into shooting sprees at the slightest hint of discomfort. We have "stand your ground" laws that protect hair trigger gun owners for shooting anyone who they might possibly feel scared of, even unarmed, teenage boys that they chased down and tackled. Every day is another story on the news of another panicked or enraged American using their gun instead of their head. Couldn't you have stepped away? No, I must stand my ground.

I think that this very American attitude is troubling to the point where I wonder if it is a mental health issue. Surely we can't call people healthy if they have no ability to cope with conflict and are so indifferent to other humans as thinking, sentient beings that it is easy to dismiss their right to life? When did we become a society of sociopaths?

I'm not going deep into the gun ownership debate because I don't think it is really the problem though it is very much a symptom. I think that our failure to treat mental health is the bigger problem, however I don't think that we should be making it so easy to access guns if we aren't taking on mental health issues. I don't know how many more mass shootings we need before we start to take steps to provide better services to vulnerable and disturbed people. Almost everyone will need some help at some time in their lives. Everyone becomes sad, angry, stressed, etc. and we need ways to relieve pressure and work through it. We shouldn't stigmatize people who need help and I think that we have plenty of reasons why ignoring troubled people is a very bad idea.


My friend Stephen was all over the news this weekend. He was a very fortunate man whose Macbook and backpack absorbed a bullet at the Fort Lauderdale airport. He gave several interviews discussing his concerns regarding mental health awareness and treatment in the US. In the end, he was a five second sound bite. He is understandably disappointed about this, so I will use my little blog to tell the story for him. Below are his words.

"What has disappointed me the most:
After that Friday of Fridays, I agree to a Saturday 5:30am pick-up at my hotel to chat with Good Morning America and ABC News. While no compensation too place, the handler/booker insists on my story's exclusivity (which seemed to have indicated a comprehensive story to my naive self) -- and we drive around the airport aimlessly in circles, with the driver pretending not to know where to park (Bueller, maybe where the 50 media trucks are lined up?), clearly eating-up time so that the competitors have less of a window to talk to me after the sun comes up. Then we arrive after the fourth loop at the obvious media lot. I then sit in the car to wait my turn on camera for way too long -- the engine running and car beeping because the driver was outside talking with a co-worker. (Do you know what that kind of beeping might do to a nervous mind who didn't sleep the night previously? Edgar Allan Poe Tell-Tale Heart kinda head games. I had to turn the car off myself from the passenger side.) I tell my expected story, including how I want both justice for the victims and their families AND more attention for our country's mental health care protocol. Total air time for GMA: 5 seconds. All that stress, mental energy at dawn, and expectations of exclusivity for that? I was told that a lot of content needed to be included, so sorry. Didn't you know that before you asked me for 10 minutes of story-telling? Lesson learned. This is how the game is played. The cutting-room floor is gigantic.
So in advance of any additional media requests:
(1) Yes, you need me to talk about the laptop. I get it... And we MUST lean-in and talk about our country's mental health needs for 60% or more of the interview. I am 17-year counselor yet will always be the son of a Chief Master Sergeant. In this and many ways, I know how to hold a set of opposites in each hand.
- OR -
(2) Please leave me alone. My uncompensated and wasted time in your ratings pursuit is time that I'm not on the phone with my mom, boyfriend, coworkers, friends -- or trying to sleep."

Sunday, January 1, 2017

back in the saddle

I didn't post much of anything regarding the Brexit, Trump, etc., here or on social media, but the same couldn't be said for most everyone else and as a result, I spiraled into deep fatigue at the close of this year. I've had to self impose a media blackout. Even now as I'm typing, I'm out of anything substantive to say. Looking back on this year, there were many things to be joyful about. However, at this moment I feel the shadow of losing first SB's beloved aunt D, then her sister A. And then there is a lawsuit that is about to take place which will be fought to the bitter end, being more about carrying out the last wishes of both sisters than caring about any monetary success. How happy I am to have seen the last of 2016.

So Happy New Year, everyone. May 2017 bring gladder tidings than 2016.