Showing posts with label español. Show all posts
Showing posts with label español. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Rainy Day Blues
I don't have much to write about tonight. I'm eating some Breyer's natural strawberry ice cream straight from the box. It rained for most of the afternoon. I guess it's just one of those days. At least Rocky is curled up on the desk, next to the computer, keeping me company. He's a reminder that despite the appearance or feeling of a proverbial bad day, the important things are still there with God's blessing, and those blessings should not be taken for granted if we can help it. Still, with that being said, here's to hoping tomorrow is a better day. Buenas noches, estimado lector.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Reconnecting with Family
I just got off a half-hour Skype call with my cousins Carlos and Enrique; they could see me, but because their camera wasn't working I couldn't see them. But it was great to hear both their voices and catch up with them. Especially after what I wrote about Carlos just a few days ago. It goes to show you (and me) that you can never assume anything and that communication is very important to dispel any incorrect assumptions. I'm feeling pretty happy right now.
At the end of the call, I told them that I was going to get my daughter, but when I came back on screen I was holding up Rocky. I asked them rhetorically if he looked like me; I got a good laugh from them on that one. Then, a minute later, I actually brought Seva into the picture. She had been crying in her crib upstairs (probably because she could hear my voice speaking loudly downstairs). Although she calmed down for a minute, she started crying again (probably because she was tired at this late hour), so I had to end the call. I told Carlos, though, that I hope to talk with him again soon.
We had a few good laughs during our conversation; it was really good. Now that I'm writing about it, it makes me think for the first time that I'd like to go back to Costa Rica at some point. I hadn't felt that way until now.
Sticking with the theme of reconnecting with family, Jess is going to visit our Aunt Judith and Uncle Ray in Long Beach Island this weekend. A couple of our cousins may be there too. Jess passed along Judith's invitation for Jeannie, Seva, and me to go. And I think we just may take them up on the offer, which would be the first time I've seen the paternal side of my family in many years.
Finally, I just want to add a comment relating to a thought that I'd had earlier today, a thought that came back to me and was reconfirmed after my Skype call with my cousins: I have been much, much happier being away from [...]. It's now been about two months that I've been away. I reflected and realized today that I'm turning a corner now where my mental and emotional health is finally healing. I finally feel like my old self! It's a great feeling. And it's a sign that I'm heading in the right direction, towards good and away from a bad vibe. I feel great and I'm thankful.
At the end of the call, I told them that I was going to get my daughter, but when I came back on screen I was holding up Rocky. I asked them rhetorically if he looked like me; I got a good laugh from them on that one. Then, a minute later, I actually brought Seva into the picture. She had been crying in her crib upstairs (probably because she could hear my voice speaking loudly downstairs). Although she calmed down for a minute, she started crying again (probably because she was tired at this late hour), so I had to end the call. I told Carlos, though, that I hope to talk with him again soon.
We had a few good laughs during our conversation; it was really good. Now that I'm writing about it, it makes me think for the first time that I'd like to go back to Costa Rica at some point. I hadn't felt that way until now.
Sticking with the theme of reconnecting with family, Jess is going to visit our Aunt Judith and Uncle Ray in Long Beach Island this weekend. A couple of our cousins may be there too. Jess passed along Judith's invitation for Jeannie, Seva, and me to go. And I think we just may take them up on the offer, which would be the first time I've seen the paternal side of my family in many years.
Finally, I just want to add a comment relating to a thought that I'd had earlier today, a thought that came back to me and was reconfirmed after my Skype call with my cousins: I have been much, much happier being away from [...]. It's now been about two months that I've been away. I reflected and realized today that I'm turning a corner now where my mental and emotional health is finally healing. I finally feel like my old self! It's a great feeling. And it's a sign that I'm heading in the right direction, towards good and away from a bad vibe. I feel great and I'm thankful.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Conflicts
It's amazing that there continues to be conflict all over the world. It was like that when I was a little kid. It's like that now. Why should we believe that it's ever going to be any different? Why is there conflict at all? One answer is that we have free will. Another is that, for all our similarities, we want to feel unique, so we play up our differences: nationalities, political parties, religions, skin color, et cetera. By following our own human nature and playing up our differences, rivalries and tensions develop. An 'us-versus-them' mentality develops. So that's another answer to why there is perpetual conflict throughout the world. Another answer is man's tendency toward sin and temptation: especially in the form of power (pride); this stems from man's natural insecurity, both materially as an animal that strives to survive at all costs, and emotionally as beings that compensate for internal insecurity by manifesting external power.
Another issue is that no relationship, nor anything at all for that matter, is static. The universe is dynamic. Your body and every person's body is dynamic. People change and thus that makes the relationship between and among people dynamic. I can think of easy examples in my own life right off the top of my head. In fact, it's a theme that's been on my mind a lot lately. I perceive that my relationship with my cousin Carlos isn't what it used to be or what it could be. When I write a short note or message to him, his responses are either stock and pithy (the latest one was simply "gracias primo") or he simply uses an emoticon (usually a 'thumbs-up' icon) to acknowledge my note without having to engage in any substantive dialogue. Assuming my perception is really accurate, I have no idea what's going on. Is he jealous because I got married? and/or because I've become a father? Did I slight him in some way the last time I was in Costa Rica? I have no clue. I suppose I can ask him what's going on. That would be the mature, logical thing to do. I think I may be afraid of the answer. But then again, the cold hard truth should always be preferable to living under a hazy assumption, shouldn't it?
Next I think of my relationship with my friend Paul. I still consider him to be my friend, though we're not as close as we used to be. If you look back at previous posts here, around the 2008 time frame, Paul is a major player. We spent a lot of time together. We traveled together, to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, to his parents' home in Tampa, Florida, and even to Costa Rica back in the day. I had a close relationship in those days, the late 1990s through the entire decade of the 2000s. I kept my mouth shut on certain things that concerned me, because I enjoyed my time with him. We had fun together. In a very real way, at a time when we were young adults, flexing our wings (if that's even a proper saying) and coming into our own, we were each other's family -- at a time when we needed to prove our individuality separate and apart from our own respective families. But as time passed, and perhaps when I became more comfortable in my adulthood, or perhaps wasn't having as much fun spending time and traveling with him, or perhaps when I had met other friends and thus didn't feel like I needed or depended upon my friendship with him -- whatever the case was -- I felt that I needed to communicate with him my concerns about his beliefs as expressed in words: using the word "nigger" to pejoratively describe a dark-skinned American of African descent, then a couple years later using the word "dyke" to describe a female mayor of some northern New Jersey city, either Hoboken or Jersey City. After each separate incident, I wrote a letter by hand and sent it to him, expressing my disapproval. Was this the right approach? I thought so. I still think so. But maybe not. Should I have talked with him face-to-face? My main takeaway, as I write this now, is that I shouldn't invest too much time in a friend with such negative, prejudiced, and outdated beliefs. In short: surround yourself with good people. But then I ask myself, who am I to judge him? Be soft on the sinner, but not on the sin! Did I practically give up a friendship for the foolish objective of proving a principle?
This tug of war between philosophical poles happens quite frequently in my head. I think part of it is the guilt -- justified or not -- at having effectively ended a friendship. I think the other part is a realization that life is not guaranteed to remain static, things will change, and this logically leads to a realization, whether explicit or implicit, that life will eventually end: after all these changes and changes, death shall come.
I've written previously that a break-up from a girlfriend is very analogous to these existential realizations. The relationship died. It's as if the ex-girlfriend is dead, although we know damn well that she's alive somewhere, probably with some other guy already. A break-up is a foreboding of death. It's a terrible feeling...to be reminded of one's own mortality. And yet we're reminded of it all the time, whether looking outwardly at all the conflict in the world, the people, the children!, being killed in war, or whether looking inwardly to our own failed relationships. What's the answer? I can't say I know, other than to keep on living, find something to believe in, put one's gifts and talents to the best use possible to be productive and self-fulfilling, and be with (or be open to be with) someone you love and who loves you.
Another issue is that no relationship, nor anything at all for that matter, is static. The universe is dynamic. Your body and every person's body is dynamic. People change and thus that makes the relationship between and among people dynamic. I can think of easy examples in my own life right off the top of my head. In fact, it's a theme that's been on my mind a lot lately. I perceive that my relationship with my cousin Carlos isn't what it used to be or what it could be. When I write a short note or message to him, his responses are either stock and pithy (the latest one was simply "gracias primo") or he simply uses an emoticon (usually a 'thumbs-up' icon) to acknowledge my note without having to engage in any substantive dialogue. Assuming my perception is really accurate, I have no idea what's going on. Is he jealous because I got married? and/or because I've become a father? Did I slight him in some way the last time I was in Costa Rica? I have no clue. I suppose I can ask him what's going on. That would be the mature, logical thing to do. I think I may be afraid of the answer. But then again, the cold hard truth should always be preferable to living under a hazy assumption, shouldn't it?
Next I think of my relationship with my friend Paul. I still consider him to be my friend, though we're not as close as we used to be. If you look back at previous posts here, around the 2008 time frame, Paul is a major player. We spent a lot of time together. We traveled together, to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, to his parents' home in Tampa, Florida, and even to Costa Rica back in the day. I had a close relationship in those days, the late 1990s through the entire decade of the 2000s. I kept my mouth shut on certain things that concerned me, because I enjoyed my time with him. We had fun together. In a very real way, at a time when we were young adults, flexing our wings (if that's even a proper saying) and coming into our own, we were each other's family -- at a time when we needed to prove our individuality separate and apart from our own respective families. But as time passed, and perhaps when I became more comfortable in my adulthood, or perhaps wasn't having as much fun spending time and traveling with him, or perhaps when I had met other friends and thus didn't feel like I needed or depended upon my friendship with him -- whatever the case was -- I felt that I needed to communicate with him my concerns about his beliefs as expressed in words: using the word "nigger" to pejoratively describe a dark-skinned American of African descent, then a couple years later using the word "dyke" to describe a female mayor of some northern New Jersey city, either Hoboken or Jersey City. After each separate incident, I wrote a letter by hand and sent it to him, expressing my disapproval. Was this the right approach? I thought so. I still think so. But maybe not. Should I have talked with him face-to-face? My main takeaway, as I write this now, is that I shouldn't invest too much time in a friend with such negative, prejudiced, and outdated beliefs. In short: surround yourself with good people. But then I ask myself, who am I to judge him? Be soft on the sinner, but not on the sin! Did I practically give up a friendship for the foolish objective of proving a principle?
This tug of war between philosophical poles happens quite frequently in my head. I think part of it is the guilt -- justified or not -- at having effectively ended a friendship. I think the other part is a realization that life is not guaranteed to remain static, things will change, and this logically leads to a realization, whether explicit or implicit, that life will eventually end: after all these changes and changes, death shall come.
I've written previously that a break-up from a girlfriend is very analogous to these existential realizations. The relationship died. It's as if the ex-girlfriend is dead, although we know damn well that she's alive somewhere, probably with some other guy already. A break-up is a foreboding of death. It's a terrible feeling...to be reminded of one's own mortality. And yet we're reminded of it all the time, whether looking outwardly at all the conflict in the world, the people, the children!, being killed in war, or whether looking inwardly to our own failed relationships. What's the answer? I can't say I know, other than to keep on living, find something to believe in, put one's gifts and talents to the best use possible to be productive and self-fulfilling, and be with (or be open to be with) someone you love and who loves you.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Tidbits
Since I married Jeannie, I have not removed my wedding ring from my finger, other than rarely fiddling around with it during a meeting or while watching tv.
Seva laughed for the first time tonight. It was a beautiful and amazing thing to see. While Jeannie was cooking mac'n'cheese (with tuna & peas) for dinner, I was playing around with Seva. While standing near the stove, I was holding Seva facing me, with her pelvis held against my mid-torso and her upper body angled away from my body, so she could look up at me. I periodically dipped down, while smiling at her and encouraging her. She responded positively and seemed to be having a good time. And then, she started giggling. She did it for just a couple of seconds after about a handful of the dips, then she didn't do it again. When I looked at Jeannie, she had tears of joy in her eyes. Like I said, it was a beautiful and amazing thing to see.
I also found out online today that there is a Seva Café right outside of Washington, D.C., in Alexandria, Virginia. We'll have to go there some day, maybe soon.
Jeannie and I went a couple nights ago (on Saturday, July 19th) to visit my friend Javi and his girlfriend Gina. We enjoyed a really nice evening of salad (made of kale, scallops, cashews), dessert (dates, figs, and sunflower seeds), moscato rosé wine, and coffee. Javi also played some music for us, first on his various flutes, then on his guitar. Jeannie had brought her guitar, so she played the only song she knows how to play, Blackbird (Beatles song), while Javi played one of his flutes. At one point, while Jeannie went into the bedroom to feed Seva, I was able to speak en español to Javi and Gina; we discussed politics in Latin America. All in all, we had a really great time. I hope to spend time with them again.
I've noticed that Seva now weighs more than the Baby. Speaking of the Baby, her right ear has been very dirty the last few days. I clean it out with cotton swabs, but it seems to get dirty again. And since I bring up the Baby, I should say that Rocky is doing well as always. This evening he rediscovered the toy mouse that he goes stretches forgetting about; he kicked it around for a while and really had a lot of fun.
Tonight at the Y, I did a chest/arms work-out. In my final set of bench press, I put up 195 pounds twice. In my final set of dumbbell curls, I lifted 35 pound dumbbells 8 times each arm. In my final set of incline bench press, I put up 135 pounds 4 times; that was at the very end of my work-out. Overall it was a very good work-out.
Oh, a couple days ago, on Saturday, I helped Jeannie's dad move into his new apartment here in Philadelphia. He's living just a few blocks away from Rittenhouse Square and he's no more than a short 8-minute walk from our place, so he'll be able to see Seva much more often. This is great not just for him, but for me too in the short-term as he'll be available to watch Seva for short periods of time when I need to run an errand or take care of something and also for Jeannie and me in the medium-term as he'll be available for babysitting services. I like my father-in-law a lot, so I'm happy to have him close by now.
Well, it's time to take out the trash and I should be winding down since I know Jeannie wants to go to start going to bed a bit earlier at night. I thank God for all blessings and ask for God's blessing, protection, and guidance every day always, but especially in these next handful of months, when there will be so much change.
Seva laughed for the first time tonight. It was a beautiful and amazing thing to see. While Jeannie was cooking mac'n'cheese (with tuna & peas) for dinner, I was playing around with Seva. While standing near the stove, I was holding Seva facing me, with her pelvis held against my mid-torso and her upper body angled away from my body, so she could look up at me. I periodically dipped down, while smiling at her and encouraging her. She responded positively and seemed to be having a good time. And then, she started giggling. She did it for just a couple of seconds after about a handful of the dips, then she didn't do it again. When I looked at Jeannie, she had tears of joy in her eyes. Like I said, it was a beautiful and amazing thing to see.
I also found out online today that there is a Seva Café right outside of Washington, D.C., in Alexandria, Virginia. We'll have to go there some day, maybe soon.
Jeannie and I went a couple nights ago (on Saturday, July 19th) to visit my friend Javi and his girlfriend Gina. We enjoyed a really nice evening of salad (made of kale, scallops, cashews), dessert (dates, figs, and sunflower seeds), moscato rosé wine, and coffee. Javi also played some music for us, first on his various flutes, then on his guitar. Jeannie had brought her guitar, so she played the only song she knows how to play, Blackbird (Beatles song), while Javi played one of his flutes. At one point, while Jeannie went into the bedroom to feed Seva, I was able to speak en español to Javi and Gina; we discussed politics in Latin America. All in all, we had a really great time. I hope to spend time with them again.
I've noticed that Seva now weighs more than the Baby. Speaking of the Baby, her right ear has been very dirty the last few days. I clean it out with cotton swabs, but it seems to get dirty again. And since I bring up the Baby, I should say that Rocky is doing well as always. This evening he rediscovered the toy mouse that he goes stretches forgetting about; he kicked it around for a while and really had a lot of fun.
Tonight at the Y, I did a chest/arms work-out. In my final set of bench press, I put up 195 pounds twice. In my final set of dumbbell curls, I lifted 35 pound dumbbells 8 times each arm. In my final set of incline bench press, I put up 135 pounds 4 times; that was at the very end of my work-out. Overall it was a very good work-out.
Oh, a couple days ago, on Saturday, I helped Jeannie's dad move into his new apartment here in Philadelphia. He's living just a few blocks away from Rittenhouse Square and he's no more than a short 8-minute walk from our place, so he'll be able to see Seva much more often. This is great not just for him, but for me too in the short-term as he'll be available to watch Seva for short periods of time when I need to run an errand or take care of something and also for Jeannie and me in the medium-term as he'll be available for babysitting services. I like my father-in-law a lot, so I'm happy to have him close by now.
Well, it's time to take out the trash and I should be winding down since I know Jeannie wants to go to start going to bed a bit earlier at night. I thank God for all blessings and ask for God's blessing, protection, and guidance every day always, but especially in these next handful of months, when there will be so much change.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Almost Time for the Memorial Day Weekend...
Once again, being in a rush to get to work this morning, I didn't pack my lunch as usual. So I had to go out for a late lunch around 3:30 this afternoon. I went to I-Green, where I had beef hand-drawn noodle soup. It was excellent: the noodles were unmistakably fresh and homemade, the beef was delicious and well-seasoned, and the broth was very good. On top of that, my waitress was so friendly that I thought she actually wanted to be my friend and a waiter who came by to tell me all the details about the history of hand-drawn noodles in China and their preparation there was so informative that I eventually wanted him to leave to let me enjoy the meal (I say this humorously). And to top it all off, the whole lunch cost $7.50. Oh, and they gave me a complimentary frozen yogurt cone at the end. I will definitely be going back to I-Green!
I've decided to pour myself a glass of malbec, Callia Alta, 2012 vintage, to accompany me on the rest of this writing. As I raise my glass to you, fine reader, I say "salud!"
Also as I write this, the Baby is curled up on my desk, in the back right corner, easily within arm's reach so I can pet her as I please. I can hear her heavy breathing, as she looks at me out of the corner of her right eye. I love the Baby (and Rocky too)!
I was happy to hear that Jeannie and Seva took a walk to visit Mita this afternoon. I know that Mita is ecstatic to be a grandmother. And I'm pretty sure that she would see Seva every day if we allowed her. I get the sense that Mita restrains herself to respect Jeannie's and my wishes to be a family. But I'm sure she was thrilled to get the surprise visit from Jeannie and Seva today. It really makes me happy -- and I thank God -- that I've been blessed with such a wonderful wife and beautiful daughter.
After all the hurt and heartache that I went through at the end of my relationship with Ileana, and even more acutely through the painful break-up and immediate aftermath, I can say that God took me out of something negative, unhealthy, and toxic to bring me to something positive, healthy, and loving. To all the people at work, but especially the young Haverford paralegals, I'd love to say: I got out of an abusive relationship (from your fellow alumna) and now I'm in a healthy relationship!!! I'm more mature than to advertise my relationship, however, especially for such selfish, publicly-displayed vindication. Besides quietly writing about it here, I'm not going to shove it in people's faces. Inwardly, though, I take great pleasure and daily gratitude that God helped me out of something so bad to bring me to something so good. Thanks be to God.
I made myself a promise that I would not return to Costa Rica until at least one of my family members there visits us in Philadelphia. None of my family there knows of this internal promise. And I know that for much of my family there the idea of coming to the United States at all is a near impossibility. But there's some family that could do it. And although Jeannie would love to go to Costa Rica, I'm committed to keeping my promise. I'd rather visit Panama, where I've never been, than go to CR at this point. The only thing that could possibly change my mind is when Seva gets old enough to develop enough curiosity in her roots to want to go and I (we) feel that the trip would benefit her as a form of experiential education.
I'm enjoying reading Mexico City Blues by Jack Kerouac, but it's so seemingly disjointed that it honestly doesn't seem to have a message. I'm not sure what the take-away is, other than digesting a literary genius's nonsense. But I'll read it because my attention span is not so great these days and it's sometimes important to read nonsense to be reminded of the absurdity of life and the importance not to take it too seriously all the time.
I just farted; it's rank. Very high sulfur content.
Finally, as a sort of confession, I'd like to admit that I made a major blunder when I tried to pull the old switcheroo between two girls, one who I was dating, Priscilla, and her best friend, Joelle. This was around 2010, if my memory serves me correctly. I remember being out on the town with Evan and Corey, perhaps that last time that the three of us hung out together. We were at Parc, where we met Priscilla and Joelle. I was the only single one among the three of us at that point, so I somehow got both girls' phone numbers and I think they both got mine. I was definitely attracted to Joelle right from the get-go. But within a day or two after meeting, Priscilla took the initiative to reach out to me and show interest. And that's the precise juncture where I made a mistake; I should have reached out to Joelle, the girl I actually liked, before responding and then playing into -- for the next four months (argghh) -- Priscilla's interest and advances. Before I knew it, I was sucked in to a relationship that I didn't want. I'm sure many guys, and even many girls, have gone through this experience. But towards the end of it, my desire towards Joelle began to develop into something approaching an obsession, which made me irrationally believe that I could pull a switcheroo. Even just writing about it now, I feel silly and a bit ashamed. How the hell did I think I could pull that off?! Well, when I finally got the courage to call Joelle for the sole purpose of seeing if she wanted to hang out, I found out very shortly thereafter that she immediately called Priscilla (her best friend!) what I'd done and that effectively ended the relationship with Priscilla and blacklisted me from any contact, let alone relationship, with the girl who I'd been attracted to from the beginning.
Oh well, as history would have it, I guess a relationship with either girl was never meant to be. So be it. Ironically, only about two months ago, Jeannie and I were in line at the Ikea in south Philadelphia when I saw Priscilla with her mother. I felt like a total fool, as rightly I should have felt. In retrospect, I should have approached her to beg her forgiveness for my inexcusable handling of the situation and for hurting her feelings in any way; I probably would have been met with a slap to the face, or maybe not since she was with her mother. Come to think of it, her mother probably would have slapped me in the face. So maybe it was best that I just played dumb and waited a few minutes, as I did, to give Jeannie the short version of the story. That was the best I could do in terms of a confession at that time.
I've decided to pour myself a glass of malbec, Callia Alta, 2012 vintage, to accompany me on the rest of this writing. As I raise my glass to you, fine reader, I say "salud!"
Also as I write this, the Baby is curled up on my desk, in the back right corner, easily within arm's reach so I can pet her as I please. I can hear her heavy breathing, as she looks at me out of the corner of her right eye. I love the Baby (and Rocky too)!
I was happy to hear that Jeannie and Seva took a walk to visit Mita this afternoon. I know that Mita is ecstatic to be a grandmother. And I'm pretty sure that she would see Seva every day if we allowed her. I get the sense that Mita restrains herself to respect Jeannie's and my wishes to be a family. But I'm sure she was thrilled to get the surprise visit from Jeannie and Seva today. It really makes me happy -- and I thank God -- that I've been blessed with such a wonderful wife and beautiful daughter.
After all the hurt and heartache that I went through at the end of my relationship with Ileana, and even more acutely through the painful break-up and immediate aftermath, I can say that God took me out of something negative, unhealthy, and toxic to bring me to something positive, healthy, and loving. To all the people at work, but especially the young Haverford paralegals, I'd love to say: I got out of an abusive relationship (from your fellow alumna) and now I'm in a healthy relationship!!! I'm more mature than to advertise my relationship, however, especially for such selfish, publicly-displayed vindication. Besides quietly writing about it here, I'm not going to shove it in people's faces. Inwardly, though, I take great pleasure and daily gratitude that God helped me out of something so bad to bring me to something so good. Thanks be to God.
I made myself a promise that I would not return to Costa Rica until at least one of my family members there visits us in Philadelphia. None of my family there knows of this internal promise. And I know that for much of my family there the idea of coming to the United States at all is a near impossibility. But there's some family that could do it. And although Jeannie would love to go to Costa Rica, I'm committed to keeping my promise. I'd rather visit Panama, where I've never been, than go to CR at this point. The only thing that could possibly change my mind is when Seva gets old enough to develop enough curiosity in her roots to want to go and I (we) feel that the trip would benefit her as a form of experiential education.
I'm enjoying reading Mexico City Blues by Jack Kerouac, but it's so seemingly disjointed that it honestly doesn't seem to have a message. I'm not sure what the take-away is, other than digesting a literary genius's nonsense. But I'll read it because my attention span is not so great these days and it's sometimes important to read nonsense to be reminded of the absurdity of life and the importance not to take it too seriously all the time.
I just farted; it's rank. Very high sulfur content.
Finally, as a sort of confession, I'd like to admit that I made a major blunder when I tried to pull the old switcheroo between two girls, one who I was dating, Priscilla, and her best friend, Joelle. This was around 2010, if my memory serves me correctly. I remember being out on the town with Evan and Corey, perhaps that last time that the three of us hung out together. We were at Parc, where we met Priscilla and Joelle. I was the only single one among the three of us at that point, so I somehow got both girls' phone numbers and I think they both got mine. I was definitely attracted to Joelle right from the get-go. But within a day or two after meeting, Priscilla took the initiative to reach out to me and show interest. And that's the precise juncture where I made a mistake; I should have reached out to Joelle, the girl I actually liked, before responding and then playing into -- for the next four months (argghh) -- Priscilla's interest and advances. Before I knew it, I was sucked in to a relationship that I didn't want. I'm sure many guys, and even many girls, have gone through this experience. But towards the end of it, my desire towards Joelle began to develop into something approaching an obsession, which made me irrationally believe that I could pull a switcheroo. Even just writing about it now, I feel silly and a bit ashamed. How the hell did I think I could pull that off?! Well, when I finally got the courage to call Joelle for the sole purpose of seeing if she wanted to hang out, I found out very shortly thereafter that she immediately called Priscilla (her best friend!) what I'd done and that effectively ended the relationship with Priscilla and blacklisted me from any contact, let alone relationship, with the girl who I'd been attracted to from the beginning.
Oh well, as history would have it, I guess a relationship with either girl was never meant to be. So be it. Ironically, only about two months ago, Jeannie and I were in line at the Ikea in south Philadelphia when I saw Priscilla with her mother. I felt like a total fool, as rightly I should have felt. In retrospect, I should have approached her to beg her forgiveness for my inexcusable handling of the situation and for hurting her feelings in any way; I probably would have been met with a slap to the face, or maybe not since she was with her mother. Come to think of it, her mother probably would have slapped me in the face. So maybe it was best that I just played dumb and waited a few minutes, as I did, to give Jeannie the short version of the story. That was the best I could do in terms of a confession at that time.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
First Week of Fatherhood
It's been a blur. My sleep schedule has been completely haphazard, almost always leaning towards going to sleep very late into the night and thus getting up very late in the morning (if not the early afternoon).
In your first two or three days of life, Seva, you barely opened your eyes and when you did it was only for a second or two. In the last few days, though, you've opened your eyes more and more, and those moments which have turned into minutes have been precious. I'm pretty sure that you recognize me when you look at me. That makes me feel really good and makes me look forward to our future.
During this first week of fatherhood, I've finished two books: The Journey to the East by Hermann Hesse and The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. Both books being short, they were perfect for this first week, when I needed some easy-to-digest prose fiction. Both books, though simple on the surface, were deep and thought-provoking in their own way. The Journey to the East obliged me to ask myself whether, in any journey including life itself, faith is more important than reality. And The Old Man and the Sea reminded me that endurance in the face of all opposition, even one's own perceived weaknesses, can be noble. I hope that those two qualities -- faith and endurance -- characterize my role as father.
I've also noticed, dear Seva, that you love to be held. Sometimes you'll be crying, but then your mother or I pick you up and you immediately calm down. We've also noticed that you absolutely cannot stand having your arms restricted in any way when you're swaddled. Which reminds me: sometimes when you're sleeping, you have a "hallelujah" moment when you suddenly and unexpectedly raise both arms in the air above your head; it's pretty funny to see.
Another point of pride and happiness from this past week was finally being able to go back to church. I went by myself to Good Friday mass at 4:00 p.m. Then, you, your mother, and I went to Easter Vigil mass last night at 8:00 p.m. I did the fifth reading, which was Isaiah 55:1-11. Your mother told me that I did a great job reading, but I was pretty loud. I'll try to remember next time not to stand quite as close to the microphone. At the beginning of the mass, Father Ed announced to everyone there that the youngest member of the church -- at only one week old -- was there, which meant that everyone who wasn't there had no excuse not to be there; he said your name to the whole congregation, while your mother was holding you and I waved my right hand so everyone could see who Father Ed was talking about.
As I write this post, I've been drinking a glass of Callia Alta, 2012 vintage Malbec. It's not that great, but there's still something quite romantic about writing while drinking coffee or wine. Also, as I type these very words, the Baby is sitting on top of the printer/scanner to my left, watching my fingers tap the keyboard. I just took a break to scratch the Baby's chest, while she sits in her typical statue pose when she's really tired. I love her and Rocky very much.
Anyway, I ought to go to bed now. Buenas noches, estimado lector.
In your first two or three days of life, Seva, you barely opened your eyes and when you did it was only for a second or two. In the last few days, though, you've opened your eyes more and more, and those moments which have turned into minutes have been precious. I'm pretty sure that you recognize me when you look at me. That makes me feel really good and makes me look forward to our future.
During this first week of fatherhood, I've finished two books: The Journey to the East by Hermann Hesse and The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. Both books being short, they were perfect for this first week, when I needed some easy-to-digest prose fiction. Both books, though simple on the surface, were deep and thought-provoking in their own way. The Journey to the East obliged me to ask myself whether, in any journey including life itself, faith is more important than reality. And The Old Man and the Sea reminded me that endurance in the face of all opposition, even one's own perceived weaknesses, can be noble. I hope that those two qualities -- faith and endurance -- characterize my role as father.
I've also noticed, dear Seva, that you love to be held. Sometimes you'll be crying, but then your mother or I pick you up and you immediately calm down. We've also noticed that you absolutely cannot stand having your arms restricted in any way when you're swaddled. Which reminds me: sometimes when you're sleeping, you have a "hallelujah" moment when you suddenly and unexpectedly raise both arms in the air above your head; it's pretty funny to see.
Another point of pride and happiness from this past week was finally being able to go back to church. I went by myself to Good Friday mass at 4:00 p.m. Then, you, your mother, and I went to Easter Vigil mass last night at 8:00 p.m. I did the fifth reading, which was Isaiah 55:1-11. Your mother told me that I did a great job reading, but I was pretty loud. I'll try to remember next time not to stand quite as close to the microphone. At the beginning of the mass, Father Ed announced to everyone there that the youngest member of the church -- at only one week old -- was there, which meant that everyone who wasn't there had no excuse not to be there; he said your name to the whole congregation, while your mother was holding you and I waved my right hand so everyone could see who Father Ed was talking about.
As I write this post, I've been drinking a glass of Callia Alta, 2012 vintage Malbec. It's not that great, but there's still something quite romantic about writing while drinking coffee or wine. Also, as I type these very words, the Baby is sitting on top of the printer/scanner to my left, watching my fingers tap the keyboard. I just took a break to scratch the Baby's chest, while she sits in her typical statue pose when she's really tired. I love her and Rocky very much.
Anyway, I ought to go to bed now. Buenas noches, estimado lector.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
I believe that my mom has no true understanding that I'm a real lawyer. I believe that my mom still looks at me as if I were 21 years old. I believe that my mom thinks I handle cases as a law student: mock cases or cases that aren't serious. I don't think my mom understands that I sometimes argue against opposing counsel, that scores of clients think of me as their lawyer, that I'm an independent attorney with my own caseload. I think my mom still gets worried when I drive a car, thinking automatically that I'm going to speed or drive recklessly. I don't think my mom believes that I speak Spanish, although I've traveled by myself to Spanish-speaking countries, some of my clients speak no English at all, but only Spanish, and on one occasion when I was a paralegal I actually interpreted from Spanish to English and vice versa for a judge in a court hearing. I believe that my mom has no real understanding of all the experiences I've had in my life, because she's never taken the time to ask, and when I do recount an experience, she tends not to listen very closely, if at all. I don't think my mom realizes how many books I've read, and thus how many different points of view I've considered, how many stories I've experienced vicariously through the letters on a page and the pages in a book. I believe that, by not realizing this, or even considering this, my mom believes that her judgment, by virtue of her age, is superior to mine, although she has read very little over the course of her lifetime, and still does not make reading a priority. I believe that my mom has no idea how good a lawyer I really am. I believe that my mom's opinion of my personality is largely focused on my negative qualities, or in other words, on my weaknesses. I bet that if my mom had to list my three greatest strengths, she would struggle to list any, let alone name three qualities with confidence.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Facebook status update
Felicitaciones al escritor Mario Vargas Llosa por ganar el Premio Nobel de Literatura! Yo he leído tres libros de él: Lituma en los Andes, The Feast of the Goat, y The War of the End of the World, los cuales son muy bien escritos. Me felicita que un escrito americano (-latino) ha ganado el premio, por primera vez desde 1990 (Octavio Paz).
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Facebook status update
Hoy es "Dia de la Memoria por la Verdad y la Justicia" en Argentina, siempre recordamos los que perdieron sus vidas y fueron desaparecidos en la Guerra Sucia y apoyamos siempre la lucha contra la injusticia en cualquier forma y en cualquier parte del mundo.
Monday, October 20, 2008
A bilingual United States of America
As this article (click HERE) explains, the Oprah Winfrey Show is going bilingual, i.e. it will be presented in Spanish in certain television markets.
I've said it before and I'll say it again now: globalization is not only an exporting of the U.S. culture and primary language to the rest of the world; globalization is a two-way street, which necessarily means that the U.S. is changing and evolving to the influences of other cultures and languages too.
In the area of language, then, this means that Spanish will become more and more prevalent -- and eventually mainstream (coexistent with English) -- throughout the United States. There are, unfortunately, plenty of cultural conservatives and plain racists who do not want to accept this reality. But a reality it is nonetheless.
As much as I wish this evolution would take place for reasons of cultural respect and exchange, the real reason -- as we can easily see from a savvy businesswoman like Oprah -- is money. The Spanish-speaking market in the United States is growing quickly and those who are quick to adapt to these cultural and demographic changes will reap financial rewards as a result. Whatever the reasons, though, the end result will be the same: a bilingual Estados Unidos de America.
I've said it before and I'll say it again now: globalization is not only an exporting of the U.S. culture and primary language to the rest of the world; globalization is a two-way street, which necessarily means that the U.S. is changing and evolving to the influences of other cultures and languages too.
In the area of language, then, this means that Spanish will become more and more prevalent -- and eventually mainstream (coexistent with English) -- throughout the United States. There are, unfortunately, plenty of cultural conservatives and plain racists who do not want to accept this reality. But a reality it is nonetheless.
As much as I wish this evolution would take place for reasons of cultural respect and exchange, the real reason -- as we can easily see from a savvy businesswoman like Oprah -- is money. The Spanish-speaking market in the United States is growing quickly and those who are quick to adapt to these cultural and demographic changes will reap financial rewards as a result. Whatever the reasons, though, the end result will be the same: a bilingual Estados Unidos de America.
text message to DG
Buenas noches mi linda princesa, tu eres el amor de mi vida. Te extrano cada momento que no estemos juntos, como una flor extrana las caricias del lindo sol.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Los Amigos Invisibles
Listen up, friends! / Oye amigos!
One of my favorite groups, Los Amigos Invisibles, is performing tomorrow (Thursday) night at 7:30pm at World Cafe Live, 30th & Walnut Streets. / Uno de mis grupos favoritos, Los Amigos Invisibles, esta tocando manana (jueves) a las 7:30 de la noche en World Cafe Live, ubicado en la 30 & Walnut.
I've seen them live twice before, both times here in Philly: October 29, 2005 at the TLA and November 9, 2007 at World Cafe Live. / Los he visto dos veces antes, las dos veces aqui en Philly: el 29 de octubre, 2005 en el TLA y el 9 de noviembre, 2007 en World Cafe Live.
Their music is versatile and multifarious; different songs can be labeled as acid jazz, funk, disco, latin jazz, and/or dance. As LA Weekly said: ""Los Amigos Invisibles have taken the rhythmic sass in salsa, the bass-heavy fun in funk, and even the note-bending bile in acid-jazz, and mixed it all up to produce an infectious beat. They've put the joy back into dancing, sending a warm current into the cold alienating waters of industrial strength techno."
Su musica es versatil y polifacetico; piezas diferentes pueden ser catalogadas como acid jazz, funk, disco, jazz latino, y/o baile. Como dijo LA Weekly: "Los Amigos Invisibles han quitado el descaro ritmico de salsa, la diversion del bajo bien-bajo de funk, y hasta el mal genio de las notas-torcidas de acid jazz, y los han mezclado todo para producir un ritmo infeccioso. Ellos han repuesto la alegria en el baile, enviando un corriente tibio en el agua frio y alienado del techno de fuerza industrial."
If you're in Philadelphia, or at least happen to be passing through tomorrow night, then please think about stopping in. I can guarantee that you will have a good time. These guys put on an amazing show. As much as I love their music on cd or playing from my iPod, this is one group that I can truly say sounds even better live. You don't wanna miss this opportunity, party people!
Si tu estas en Philadelphia, o por lo menos estas pasando por aqui manana en la noche, debes considerar venir con nosotros. Te puedo garantizar que vas a pasarlo super-chevere. Estos maes van a poner un show fantastico. Lo tanto que me encanto la musica de ellos en cd o escuchada por mi iPod, este es uno de esos grupos que puedo decir verdaderamente que suenan mejor en vivo. Ustedes no quieren perder esta oportunidad, fiesteros!
And in case you need any more convincing, check out the video for their song, "Una Disco Llena," which happens to be my favorite song by these guys:
Y si tu todavia necesitas mas para convencerte, chequea este video para la pieza, "Una Disco Llena," que por casualidad es mi pieza favorita de estos maes:
"SIEMPRE MIA TU SERAS, SI ME BESAS AL BAILAR."
One of my favorite groups, Los Amigos Invisibles, is performing tomorrow (Thursday) night at 7:30pm at World Cafe Live, 30th & Walnut Streets. / Uno de mis grupos favoritos, Los Amigos Invisibles, esta tocando manana (jueves) a las 7:30 de la noche en World Cafe Live, ubicado en la 30 & Walnut.
I've seen them live twice before, both times here in Philly: October 29, 2005 at the TLA and November 9, 2007 at World Cafe Live. / Los he visto dos veces antes, las dos veces aqui en Philly: el 29 de octubre, 2005 en el TLA y el 9 de noviembre, 2007 en World Cafe Live.
Their music is versatile and multifarious; different songs can be labeled as acid jazz, funk, disco, latin jazz, and/or dance. As LA Weekly said: ""Los Amigos Invisibles have taken the rhythmic sass in salsa, the bass-heavy fun in funk, and even the note-bending bile in acid-jazz, and mixed it all up to produce an infectious beat. They've put the joy back into dancing, sending a warm current into the cold alienating waters of industrial strength techno."
Su musica es versatil y polifacetico; piezas diferentes pueden ser catalogadas como acid jazz, funk, disco, jazz latino, y/o baile. Como dijo LA Weekly: "Los Amigos Invisibles han quitado el descaro ritmico de salsa, la diversion del bajo bien-bajo de funk, y hasta el mal genio de las notas-torcidas de acid jazz, y los han mezclado todo para producir un ritmo infeccioso. Ellos han repuesto la alegria en el baile, enviando un corriente tibio en el agua frio y alienado del techno de fuerza industrial."
If you're in Philadelphia, or at least happen to be passing through tomorrow night, then please think about stopping in. I can guarantee that you will have a good time. These guys put on an amazing show. As much as I love their music on cd or playing from my iPod, this is one group that I can truly say sounds even better live. You don't wanna miss this opportunity, party people!
Si tu estas en Philadelphia, o por lo menos estas pasando por aqui manana en la noche, debes considerar venir con nosotros. Te puedo garantizar que vas a pasarlo super-chevere. Estos maes van a poner un show fantastico. Lo tanto que me encanto la musica de ellos en cd o escuchada por mi iPod, este es uno de esos grupos que puedo decir verdaderamente que suenan mejor en vivo. Ustedes no quieren perder esta oportunidad, fiesteros!
And in case you need any more convincing, check out the video for their song, "Una Disco Llena," which happens to be my favorite song by these guys:
Y si tu todavia necesitas mas para convencerte, chequea este video para la pieza, "Una Disco Llena," que por casualidad es mi pieza favorita de estos maes:
"SIEMPRE MIA TU SERAS, SI ME BESAS AL BAILAR."
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Noticias
Estimados lectores hispanohablantes:
Este noviembre voy con mi amigo, Paul, al sureste de Asia. Mas especificamente, vamos a intentar a visitar los 4 paises de esa parte del mundo: Tailandia, Laos, Cambodia, y Vietnam.
Estoy emocionado porque esto sera mi primera vez en Asia. Realmente, mi primer toque en Asia sera en Japon porque tengo un cambio de vuelos ("lay-over") en Aeropuerto Narita, que es el aeropuerto de Tokio. De ahi, voy y llego en Bangkok, la capital de Tailandia.
Otro evento mas temprano es el concierto de Tortured Soul, uno de mis grupos favoritos. Haga clic AQUI para visitar el sitio de ellos y escuche unas piezas de Tortured Soul. El concierto es el proximo jueves, en Newark, una ciudad al norte del estado de New Jersey, que queda muy cerca, solo unos kilometros de New York City.
Tortured Soul es un grupo de tres maes: uno en la guitarra baja, otro en el keyboard, y el baterista, quien tambien es el cantante. La musica puede ser clasificada como house o electronica, por el sonido del keyboard. Pero tambien puede ser clasificada como soul, por la voz y la forma de cantar del cantante. En total, es una combinacion que me gusta mucho.
Finalmente, les digo que tengo ganas de ir a un partido de football ("futbol norteamericano") de mi universidad de derecho: Temple University. La universidad esta ubicada en el norte de la ciudad de Philadelphia. Por un acuerdo con el equipo profesional de football aqui en Philadelphia -- los Philadelphia Eagles (Aguilas) -- el equipo de Temple juega todos sus partidos en casa en el estadio profesional de los Eagles. El estadio se llama Lincoln Financial Field, y es uno de los mejores estadios en todo el pais. Fue construido muy recientemente.
En la temporada pasada, el noviembre pasado si me acuerdo bien, yo fui con mi amigo Bill a un partido de los Temple Owls contra los Penn State Nittany Lions, en Lincoln Financial Field. Penn State es mucho, mucho mejor que los Owls, y ellos ganaron. Pero los Owls lucharon hasta el final contra un rival mas fuerte y con mas "armas," es decir, mas jugadores mas atleticos.
El primer partido en casa de los Temple Owls es el 6 de septiembre. Quiero aprovechar de ver un partido en Lincoln Financial Field, sin pagar tanto como ir a un partido de los Philadelphia Eagles. Y a la misma vez, quiero apoyar mi universidad, la universidad donde estudie derecho.
Bueno, ticos, nicas, boricuas, y cualquier Fulano de Tal, espero que todo este bien con ustedes. Espero que sigan visitando mi sitio aunque sea casi siempre escrito en ingles. Y finalmente, espero que todo este PURA VIDA, MAE!!!
Este noviembre voy con mi amigo, Paul, al sureste de Asia. Mas especificamente, vamos a intentar a visitar los 4 paises de esa parte del mundo: Tailandia, Laos, Cambodia, y Vietnam.
Estoy emocionado porque esto sera mi primera vez en Asia. Realmente, mi primer toque en Asia sera en Japon porque tengo un cambio de vuelos ("lay-over") en Aeropuerto Narita, que es el aeropuerto de Tokio. De ahi, voy y llego en Bangkok, la capital de Tailandia.
Otro evento mas temprano es el concierto de Tortured Soul, uno de mis grupos favoritos. Haga clic AQUI para visitar el sitio de ellos y escuche unas piezas de Tortured Soul. El concierto es el proximo jueves, en Newark, una ciudad al norte del estado de New Jersey, que queda muy cerca, solo unos kilometros de New York City.
Tortured Soul es un grupo de tres maes: uno en la guitarra baja, otro en el keyboard, y el baterista, quien tambien es el cantante. La musica puede ser clasificada como house o electronica, por el sonido del keyboard. Pero tambien puede ser clasificada como soul, por la voz y la forma de cantar del cantante. En total, es una combinacion que me gusta mucho.
Finalmente, les digo que tengo ganas de ir a un partido de football ("futbol norteamericano") de mi universidad de derecho: Temple University. La universidad esta ubicada en el norte de la ciudad de Philadelphia. Por un acuerdo con el equipo profesional de football aqui en Philadelphia -- los Philadelphia Eagles (Aguilas) -- el equipo de Temple juega todos sus partidos en casa en el estadio profesional de los Eagles. El estadio se llama Lincoln Financial Field, y es uno de los mejores estadios en todo el pais. Fue construido muy recientemente.
En la temporada pasada, el noviembre pasado si me acuerdo bien, yo fui con mi amigo Bill a un partido de los Temple Owls contra los Penn State Nittany Lions, en Lincoln Financial Field. Penn State es mucho, mucho mejor que los Owls, y ellos ganaron. Pero los Owls lucharon hasta el final contra un rival mas fuerte y con mas "armas," es decir, mas jugadores mas atleticos.
El primer partido en casa de los Temple Owls es el 6 de septiembre. Quiero aprovechar de ver un partido en Lincoln Financial Field, sin pagar tanto como ir a un partido de los Philadelphia Eagles. Y a la misma vez, quiero apoyar mi universidad, la universidad donde estudie derecho.
Bueno, ticos, nicas, boricuas, y cualquier Fulano de Tal, espero que todo este bien con ustedes. Espero que sigan visitando mi sitio aunque sea casi siempre escrito en ingles. Y finalmente, espero que todo este PURA VIDA, MAE!!!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
English-only laws = Bad & Wrong
At work earlier today I got into a discussion with a teammate about the issue of language rights and the status of English -- and other languages, particularly Spanish -- in (North) American society. She asserted the position that immigrants should be mandated by law to learn the English language. I asserted the position that the law should never be used to codify any aspect of the dominant culture, including language, because to do so would infringe upon a person's freedom of speech, here quite literally a person's freedom of how (i.e., in what language) to speak.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Actualizacion del fin de semana
Estimados lectores hispanohablantes,
Primero, gracias por chequear mi sitio del internet. Es bueno saber que no estoy escribiendo para nadie ni nada. Pues, les doy mis sinceros aplausos por su patrocinio.
Ahora, a las noticias de ultima hora. El viernes tuve un dia muy largo; trabaje desde la 10:45 de la manana hasta 11 de la noche. Despues de trabajar tantas horas solo quise regresar a la casa para relajarme, ver tele, y chequear el internet. Durmi muy bien esa noche.
El sabado era un dia de mandados. Fui a la lavanderia para lavar las sabanas, y mientras que estaba lavando fui al mercado para comprar mi comida para la semana. Vi a un buen amigo, quien trabaja como cajero en el mercado, y hable por un rato con el, dandole unas cortas historias (lo mas destacado) de mi gira a Egipto.
El sabado en la noche fui a una fiesta en la casa ("house party") de un amigo/companero del trabajo. El vive en el 18 piso de los condominios Ellington, ubicados en la interseccion de la 15 y Chestnut, dos cuadras de City Hall -- el gran edificio de la alcaldia -- y solo una cuadra del rascacielo(s) mas nuevo de la ciudad, que todavia esta bajo construccion: Residences at the Ritz-Carlton. Bueno, en la fiesta, habia unos companeros de nuestro trabajo y los demas eran companeros de la universidad de derecho ("law school") -- Villanova -- de mi amigo.
Lo mejor de la noche era un juego de borrachos (usando naipes por supuesto) que se llama "Bullshit Pyramid." No tengo la paciencia para explicarlo aqui (chequea el link), pero les puedo decir que el juego cumple el objetivo de hacerse a uno bien ahumado. Nos divertimos mucho.
Me despidi de la fiesta un poquito antes de las 2 de la noche, y fui directamente a un pizzeria "late night" para dos pedazos de pizza, uno con chorizo y el otro solo con queso.
Bueno, eso es todo lo interesante (y responde el lector: "mae, interesante??? que hijueputa escritor mas aburrido!!!"). Debo terminar aqui antes de que pierdo su atencion. Gracias por leer mi blog. Espero que sigan chequeando aunque casi siempre estoy escribiendo en ingles, pero podemos justificarlo como su leccion diario en ingles. Y con eso, se despide su profesor del dos-quince. Pura birra, mae!!!
Primero, gracias por chequear mi sitio del internet. Es bueno saber que no estoy escribiendo para nadie ni nada. Pues, les doy mis sinceros aplausos por su patrocinio.
Ahora, a las noticias de ultima hora. El viernes tuve un dia muy largo; trabaje desde la 10:45 de la manana hasta 11 de la noche. Despues de trabajar tantas horas solo quise regresar a la casa para relajarme, ver tele, y chequear el internet. Durmi muy bien esa noche.
El sabado era un dia de mandados. Fui a la lavanderia para lavar las sabanas, y mientras que estaba lavando fui al mercado para comprar mi comida para la semana. Vi a un buen amigo, quien trabaja como cajero en el mercado, y hable por un rato con el, dandole unas cortas historias (lo mas destacado) de mi gira a Egipto.
El sabado en la noche fui a una fiesta en la casa ("house party") de un amigo/companero del trabajo. El vive en el 18 piso de los condominios Ellington, ubicados en la interseccion de la 15 y Chestnut, dos cuadras de City Hall -- el gran edificio de la alcaldia -- y solo una cuadra del rascacielo(s) mas nuevo de la ciudad, que todavia esta bajo construccion: Residences at the Ritz-Carlton. Bueno, en la fiesta, habia unos companeros de nuestro trabajo y los demas eran companeros de la universidad de derecho ("law school") -- Villanova -- de mi amigo.
Lo mejor de la noche era un juego de borrachos (usando naipes por supuesto) que se llama "Bullshit Pyramid." No tengo la paciencia para explicarlo aqui (chequea el link), pero les puedo decir que el juego cumple el objetivo de hacerse a uno bien ahumado. Nos divertimos mucho.
Me despidi de la fiesta un poquito antes de las 2 de la noche, y fui directamente a un pizzeria "late night" para dos pedazos de pizza, uno con chorizo y el otro solo con queso.
Bueno, eso es todo lo interesante (y responde el lector: "mae, interesante??? que hijueputa escritor mas aburrido!!!"). Debo terminar aqui antes de que pierdo su atencion. Gracias por leer mi blog. Espero que sigan chequeando aunque casi siempre estoy escribiendo en ingles, pero podemos justificarlo como su leccion diario en ingles. Y con eso, se despide su profesor del dos-quince. Pura birra, mae!!!
Friday, March 28, 2008
Cira
Last night, as I was walking home, I noticed the lights of Cira Centre flashing quickly from red to light blue to red to light blue . . . It was beautiful. I loved it because I could understand how the midrise skyscraper, the lone skyscraper west of the Schuylkill River, would want to flash its lights brilliantly in order to draw attention away from the Center City skyline and toward itself. In contrast to the high energy and perpetual persistence of Cira's flashing lights, the Center City skyline -- made up of Comcast Center, Liberty One and Two, the Mellon Bank Center, and the Bell Atlantic Tower -- was barely lit up other than the lights from inside the offices themselves, and was, for all intents and purposes, lifeless.
Tonight I again noticed the flashing lights of Cira Centre, but this time as a reflection off of one of the anonymous midrise buildings in Center City. And I thought to myself, man, this building keeps catching my eye, it keeps on flashing its lights, it keeps on calling to the rest of the city: look at me, look at me! I love that attitude, because, as an isolated midrise, there is no egotism or excessive pride in that flashing, just a sincere and passionate desire to shine. I love that attitude, because sometimes I feel the same way, I just wanna do my thing and I wanna do it with a little flash, a little panache, a little something different, although not too too proud, but in the end I wanna be noticed, especially at nighttime -- just like Cira.
To read a poem that I wrote about Cira, click this link:
Para leer un poema que he escrito sobre Cira, haga clic en:
"Lucitas Azules"
I'll wait and shine
as late in time
until you're mine.
Tonight I again noticed the flashing lights of Cira Centre, but this time as a reflection off of one of the anonymous midrise buildings in Center City. And I thought to myself, man, this building keeps catching my eye, it keeps on flashing its lights, it keeps on calling to the rest of the city: look at me, look at me! I love that attitude, because, as an isolated midrise, there is no egotism or excessive pride in that flashing, just a sincere and passionate desire to shine. I love that attitude, because sometimes I feel the same way, I just wanna do my thing and I wanna do it with a little flash, a little panache, a little something different, although not too too proud, but in the end I wanna be noticed, especially at nighttime -- just like Cira.
To read a poem that I wrote about Cira, click this link:
Para leer un poema que he escrito sobre Cira, haga clic en:
"Lucitas Azules"
I'll wait and shine
as late in time
until you're mine.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Regreso a la vida cotidiana
"From the latest hiatus, the greatest is back to grace this faceless case." -- me (referring to my return back to the job)
I went to the gym tonight for just the second time since I got back from my Egypt/Europe trip. Although I'm sure I lost a couple pounds during the trip -- due to not working out at all for two weeks and an inconsistent eating schedule on the road -- I felt surprisingly strong tonight. For my bench press (barbell, free weight), I was able to put up 185 pounds (about my own body weight) for 6 repetitions, 205 lbs. for 4 reps, 225 twice, and in my final set, I benched 245 pounds just short of 2 times (the guy spotting me had to give me just a little bit of help on the left-hand side of the bar). For the rest of my exercises, I was able to do my normal weight progression with little difficulty at all. It felt really good.
Earlier tonight, while lounging on my couch and watching the Louisville-Tennessee men's basketball game on television, the Baby fell asleep on my stomach. I kept rubbing her tummy while she alternately stretched then retracted her claws. She kept purring the whole time; it was really nice.
Bueno, manana es viernes, y por eso como siempre me hace sentir muy feliz. En este momento no tengo grandes planes para el fin de semana, pero tengo ganas de salir o por lo menos hacer algo fuera de mi apartamento. Estoy pensando de jugar basketball el sabado en la tarde. Es posible que voy a trabajar unas horas extras tambien. Y en la noche unos traguitos no me matarian tampoco.
Espero que todos tengan un buen fin de semana. Desde la ciudad de amor fraternal: Philadelphia!
I went to the gym tonight for just the second time since I got back from my Egypt/Europe trip. Although I'm sure I lost a couple pounds during the trip -- due to not working out at all for two weeks and an inconsistent eating schedule on the road -- I felt surprisingly strong tonight. For my bench press (barbell, free weight), I was able to put up 185 pounds (about my own body weight) for 6 repetitions, 205 lbs. for 4 reps, 225 twice, and in my final set, I benched 245 pounds just short of 2 times (the guy spotting me had to give me just a little bit of help on the left-hand side of the bar). For the rest of my exercises, I was able to do my normal weight progression with little difficulty at all. It felt really good.
Earlier tonight, while lounging on my couch and watching the Louisville-Tennessee men's basketball game on television, the Baby fell asleep on my stomach. I kept rubbing her tummy while she alternately stretched then retracted her claws. She kept purring the whole time; it was really nice.
Bueno, manana es viernes, y por eso como siempre me hace sentir muy feliz. En este momento no tengo grandes planes para el fin de semana, pero tengo ganas de salir o por lo menos hacer algo fuera de mi apartamento. Estoy pensando de jugar basketball el sabado en la tarde. Es posible que voy a trabajar unas horas extras tambien. Y en la noche unos traguitos no me matarian tampoco.
Espero que todos tengan un buen fin de semana. Desde la ciudad de amor fraternal: Philadelphia!
Friday, March 7, 2008
Gutentag!
Traveling somewhere without knowing the language can be frustrating. But it can also be quite comical.
This morning, after getting out of bed and getting dressed, I went downstairs to see who was around and to see if I could have a bite to eat for breakfast. I went into the kitchen to clean out the glass that I had used last night. I noticed that there was a pot of coffee brewing. After a minute, a man who I had not yet met came into the kitchen. Later I found out that he is the father of Roland's younger brother. What I did find out right away was that his English was only slightly better than my German. And so began a morning filled with lots of hand gestures, pointing, thumbs-up's, and awkward chuckling at misperceived and misunderstood jokes.
Since Roland is working until mid-afternoon, I'll have some time to go exploring. In a short while, I'll take a walk down the street to downtown Essen. So I can expect some more language-based comedy. After breakfast, though, I asked Michael (Roland's younger brother's father) if there was a German-English dictionary around the house; we found one, which I'll certainly be carrying with me on my walk soon.
So I'm feeling refreshed now. I was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night (I couldn't help thinking that it was 4pm back in tha Illadelph at that time). I woke up this morning probably somewhere around 7am, and eventually got out of bed at 8am. I'm hoping that this was enough to re-wire my Circadian rhythm and ward-off any further effects of jet lag. Based on all expectations, the trip to and throughout Egypt will require a good deal of endurance; a solid rest is the foundation for all of what is to come.
Roland and I leave Essen for the Cologne airport later this afternoon, probably around 3 or 4pm. Our flight for Cairo departs at 8:10pm and we'll arrive in Cairo at 1:25am. As I mentioned in my last post, we'll take the first bus out of the city en route to Marsa Matruh, a seaport on the Mediterranean. As such, my next post will very likely be written from Egypt.
Y para terminar este cuentecito, les envio a mis primos y a mis amigos en Costa Rica un gran saludo muy tico: PURA VIDA, MAE!!! Ustedes estan conmigo como siempre, les llevo una parte de ustedes en mi corazon con cada pasito pa'delante!
This morning, after getting out of bed and getting dressed, I went downstairs to see who was around and to see if I could have a bite to eat for breakfast. I went into the kitchen to clean out the glass that I had used last night. I noticed that there was a pot of coffee brewing. After a minute, a man who I had not yet met came into the kitchen. Later I found out that he is the father of Roland's younger brother. What I did find out right away was that his English was only slightly better than my German. And so began a morning filled with lots of hand gestures, pointing, thumbs-up's, and awkward chuckling at misperceived and misunderstood jokes.
Since Roland is working until mid-afternoon, I'll have some time to go exploring. In a short while, I'll take a walk down the street to downtown Essen. So I can expect some more language-based comedy. After breakfast, though, I asked Michael (Roland's younger brother's father) if there was a German-English dictionary around the house; we found one, which I'll certainly be carrying with me on my walk soon.
So I'm feeling refreshed now. I was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night (I couldn't help thinking that it was 4pm back in tha Illadelph at that time). I woke up this morning probably somewhere around 7am, and eventually got out of bed at 8am. I'm hoping that this was enough to re-wire my Circadian rhythm and ward-off any further effects of jet lag. Based on all expectations, the trip to and throughout Egypt will require a good deal of endurance; a solid rest is the foundation for all of what is to come.
Roland and I leave Essen for the Cologne airport later this afternoon, probably around 3 or 4pm. Our flight for Cairo departs at 8:10pm and we'll arrive in Cairo at 1:25am. As I mentioned in my last post, we'll take the first bus out of the city en route to Marsa Matruh, a seaport on the Mediterranean. As such, my next post will very likely be written from Egypt.
Y para terminar este cuentecito, les envio a mis primos y a mis amigos en Costa Rica un gran saludo muy tico: PURA VIDA, MAE!!! Ustedes estan conmigo como siempre, les llevo una parte de ustedes en mi corazon con cada pasito pa'delante!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Hispanic Heritage Month
Well, we're halfway through Hispanic Heritage Month (Mes de la Herencia Hispana), which is observed every year from September 15th -- the Independence Day of five Latin American countries (Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua) -- to October 15th. (source)
The theme of this year's National Hispanic Heritage Month is Hispanic Americans: Making a Positive Impact on American Society. (source)
WHO IS A HISPANIC?
The term Hispanic, as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau, refers to Spanish-speaking people in the United States of any race. Thus, the term Hispanic is broader than any racial category. In other words, the term Hispanic is not a racial identification. There are black, red, white, and yellow Hispanics, as well as those that are brown. Also, there are Jewish, Muslim, and Protestant Hispanics, as well as those that are Catholic. (source)
On the 2000 Census form, people of Spanish/Hispanic/Latino origin could identify themselves as 1) Mexican, 2) Puerto Rican, 3) Cuban, or 4) "other Spanish/Hispanic/Latino." More than 35 million people identified themselves as Hispanic or Latino on the 2000 Census.
Many non-Hispanics jump to the conclusion that a Hispanic must necessarily fall into one of two archetypes -- Mexican or Puerto Rican -- or, if in Florida, then possibly a third -- Cuban. The numbers clarify this common prejudgment. 64% of Hispanic-origin people are of Mexican background. Another approximately 10% are of Puerto Rican background. This means that 1 out of every 4 people of Hispanic-origin are of neither Mexican nor Puerto Rican background. Continuing with the stats, Hispanics of Cuban, Salvadoran and Dominican origins account for about 3% -- each group -- of the total Hispanic population . The remainder are of some other Central American, South American or other Hispanic or Latino origins. (secondary source; primary source: AmericanFactFinder).
GROWTH OF THE U.S. HISPANIC POPULATION
42.7 million: the estimated Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2005, making people of Hispanic origin the nation’s largest ethnic or race minority. (This estimate does not include the 3.9 million residents of Puerto Rico.)
Today, the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that there are now over 44 million people of Hispanic origin in the United States. That's about 14% of us!
102.6 million: the projected Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2050. According to this projection, Hispanics will constitute 24% of the nation’s total population on that date.
OTHER RESOURCES
--> Read here the President's Proclamation on National Hispanic Heritage Month, 2007
--> Click here for a list of links to celebrate and research our Hispanic heritage
So celebrate the second half of Hispanic Heritage Month by eating Hispanic food, listening to Spanish-language music, supporting Hispanic businesses, and learning Spanish. That last point will be brought up in a later entry, when I will discuss the inevitable, already-occurring evolution of the United States as a bilingual nation. So listen up, juevon: aprenda hablar espanol ya!
The theme of this year's National Hispanic Heritage Month is Hispanic Americans: Making a Positive Impact on American Society. (source)
WHO IS A HISPANIC?
The term Hispanic, as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau, refers to Spanish-speaking people in the United States of any race. Thus, the term Hispanic is broader than any racial category. In other words, the term Hispanic is not a racial identification. There are black, red, white, and yellow Hispanics, as well as those that are brown. Also, there are Jewish, Muslim, and Protestant Hispanics, as well as those that are Catholic. (source)
On the 2000 Census form, people of Spanish/Hispanic/Latino origin could identify themselves as 1) Mexican, 2) Puerto Rican, 3) Cuban, or 4) "other Spanish/Hispanic/Latino." More than 35 million people identified themselves as Hispanic or Latino on the 2000 Census.
Many non-Hispanics jump to the conclusion that a Hispanic must necessarily fall into one of two archetypes -- Mexican or Puerto Rican -- or, if in Florida, then possibly a third -- Cuban. The numbers clarify this common prejudgment. 64% of Hispanic-origin people are of Mexican background. Another approximately 10% are of Puerto Rican background. This means that 1 out of every 4 people of Hispanic-origin are of neither Mexican nor Puerto Rican background. Continuing with the stats, Hispanics of Cuban, Salvadoran and Dominican origins account for about 3% -- each group -- of the total Hispanic population . The remainder are of some other Central American, South American or other Hispanic or Latino origins. (secondary source; primary source: AmericanFactFinder).
GROWTH OF THE U.S. HISPANIC POPULATION
42.7 million: the estimated Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2005, making people of Hispanic origin the nation’s largest ethnic or race minority. (This estimate does not include the 3.9 million residents of Puerto Rico.)
Today, the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that there are now over 44 million people of Hispanic origin in the United States. That's about 14% of us!
102.6 million: the projected Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2050. According to this projection, Hispanics will constitute 24% of the nation’s total population on that date.
OTHER RESOURCES
--> Read here the President's Proclamation on National Hispanic Heritage Month, 2007
--> Click here for a list of links to celebrate and research our Hispanic heritage
So celebrate the second half of Hispanic Heritage Month by eating Hispanic food, listening to Spanish-language music, supporting Hispanic businesses, and learning Spanish. That last point will be brought up in a later entry, when I will discuss the inevitable, already-occurring evolution of the United States as a bilingual nation. So listen up, juevon: aprenda hablar espanol ya!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Lucitas Azules
Caminando por el sendero a las orillas del Rio Schuylkill en la noche, veo las luces azules del Cira Centre reflejadas por las olitas del rio. Esas lucitas azules parecen como llamitas frias bailando por el superficie del agua, todas ellas intentando, deseando, queriendo nadar hacia la costa, pero nunca superan la fuerza de gravedad que las mantienen amarradas en su baile eternal solitario. Cada lucita azul representa a un residente de la ciudad, cada uno se ve los demas, cada uno esta rodeada por los demas, cada uno puede hablar solo a las mas cercanas, cada uno tiene que gritar con toda su fuerza para comunicarse con las mas lejanas, cada uno se ve todas las otras lucitas bailando furiosamente, y, de vez en cuando, cuando una pare por un momentico para ver para afuera y darse cuenta que existe un mundo afuera de, y mas grande de, su propia olita, se de cuenta que todos estan bailando, siempre bailando, que siguen, siguen, siguen bailando, ailando, lando, ando, do, o. En ese instante, esa lucita se siente que es una parte integral de un gran movimiento, dirigido por un Gran Director en el cielo, y a la misma vez esa lucita se siente tan solito, tan aislado, tan vacillo, tan pequenito. La luz aspira super hondo y grita desde el fondo de sus pulmones, con la fuerza inmensa de todas las fibras de su alma: Que Contradiccion!!! Sus lagrimas caen al rio, que las lleva al mar, que las da a las nubes, para dejar caer otra vez en el rio. Asi sigue el ciclo de la vida, nuestras lagrimas nos refrescan en el justo momento cuando las necesitamos. Y mientras todo, el Gran Director sigue con el ritmo, la musica, con el bajo bien fuerte para que uno se siente el pulso en el puro centro de su pecho.
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