Neko Case's "People Got a Lotta Nerve"

Blogger friend Ellen put this video up on Google Buzz today. Love Neko Case and I love this video.

Identity Crisis

Reading this Honolulu Advertiser Island Commentary and browsing my journal entries from college have inspired me to update this blog for the first time in months.

Advanced apology: I've mulled over these thoughts so many times that they are stamped on my mind like the rainbow dots my favorite kid-time sprinkle cookies left behind on my fingers. (And yes, that came to me as I was munching on them just now.)

Very yummy cookies

I have an identity crisis I like to term "white girl in Hawaii" syndrome. To understand this, you need to know a little about my background. My Mainland heritage comes from my mother, who is Minnesota-bred, and my paternal grandfather, who was from Wisconsin. Both ended up in Hawaii, my mom after she'd met my dad at a teacher's workshop in Pennsylvania and dated him long-distance for two years, my grandfather while he was stationed here in the Army and met my then high school-aged grandmother after seeing her hula dancing in Waikiki.

My Hawaii roots: My maternal grandmother's ancestors arrived in Hawaii in the 1880s with the first influx of Portuguese immigrants who came to work on the island plantations. My grandmother allegedly has a certificate showing that it was her ancestor who was among the first to bring the ukulele to Hawaii. She also remembers Pearl Harbor and the family legend of her uncle unknowingly shielding himself under a gas truck at the base during the attack. My dad's birth certificate shows he was born in the Territory of Hawaii. And I was born and raised here on Oahu.

What's the identity crisis? I'd say that 95 percent of people from Hawaii and the Mainland don't think I'm from here. I'm a pale Caucasian with a slight Midwest accent thanks to going to college in Illinois. Having returned here after school, it feels more than ever that I'm a stranger in my own home state.

And before this turns into a whiny diatribe, I'll let one of my whiny, rambling college journal entries say it for me:

12/11/02 10:45 a.m. Northwest flight heading towards Pacific & LA:

Heading home is always such a great feeling. You've said goodbye to fall quarter syllabuses and books, bad late night coffee and cold Midwest weather. And you're headed to your beautiful birthplace where shorts may be worn again and the mountains are far from Illinois molehills. Christmas preparations are ahead and the faces of your parents and silly younger brother at the airport are a welcome sight after four airports and no sleep the night before flying. But maybe you don't feel like you belong either there or in the Midwest anymore. Maybe it's like being stuck between two places and neither your dorm room or your worn-in bed at "home" feels just right. You ask yourself why you aren't more thrilled than you are to be going to Hawaii for three weeks -- a wonderful vacation in the eyes of mainland residents and their persistent "Why'd you come here (to Chicago) for college?" queries. There is some attraction to things mainland-ish, like first snow and mittens, creaky radiators and bare trees, mainland clothes, acceptance of pale skin like mine, beautiful pink and blue sunsets inhabited by telephone pole crows and dipping temperatures, the change in seasons, the Chicago accent, the potato-based meals. You like it, sure, and even more than you did last year -- maybe -- and you just might end up living here someday. And when people in Hawaii AND people on the mainland [inadvertently] make you feel like you have no right or reason to be from Hawaii -- born and raised -- my goodness, just look at you -- where do you go? Where do you belong? Anywhere? But heading home is always such a great feeling. Right?!

Yah, little bit of conflicted internal monologue going on there. And I still, seven years later, don't know where I belong.

The Weepies

Today a Facebook conversation with a friend about The Weepies reminded me of this terrific claymation video set to the band's "World Spins Madly On."



How does one manage to make a lump of clay so endearing?

New favorites

We all have our favorite things in life, right? And while there are certain things that I will always love no matter what (pugs, Jane Austen, and Velveeta Shells & Cheese to name a few), I love the surge I get when I've found something new and exciting that feels like I should have known about it forever. Some of my latest thrilling "finds" that are new to me but probably not to a lot of other people:

Tim Tams
My new favorite cookie, or biscuits, as they are called in their country-of-origin, Australia.

Yummy, crispy, chocolate-covered biscuits. I first tried these on my trip to Sydney this past summer, and now they can be had at local stores. And I don't mean the kind of foreign import that keeps the same brand name but is really made by an American company and doesn't taste as good (see Cadbury Dairy Milk made by Hershey's versus Dairy Milk actually made by Cadbury). There is even a drinking technique using them called the Tim Tam Slam.

Eric Hutchinson
I heard Eric Hutchinson's song "Rock and Roll" on the radio a few weeks ago coming home after a rough day and I instantly perked up. Then I got to see the Jason Mraz-esque musician perform at Lulu's in Waikiki this past weekend, and he rocked the tiny, packed venue. I like that his songs are clever, catchy and honest. Take a sample lyric from "Rock and Roll": "Another chance for cheap romance/Doesn't count cause the room is spinning/Nothing to lose tonight they both are winning." A fresh take on the stale bar/club scene.

Here's Hutchinson performing back in 2007.


From what I saw at his Waikiki performance, he's upgraded his wardrobe since then but the sound's still the same.

Tough Love
The only reality shows I watch on a regular basis are "American Idol," "Project Runway," and "So You Think You Can Dance." Just wanted to clarify that I'm not a reality show junkie. But I recently heard about a different kind of dating show called "Tough Love" on VH1 and decided to watch. This series is headed by male matchmaker Steve Ward, who gives women having trouble finding love, insight into how a guy's mind works, and not in the awful "The Pick Up Artist" way either. The women in turn learn how to connect with men. One downside to "Tough Love" is that it tries to follow the usual reality show formula of putting a bunch of a girls in a house together and hoping for the most drama possible. Luckily, the women so far have ended up supporting each other rather than trying to gouge each others eyes out. Besides that, the most compelling aspect of the show is Steve's truth-telling, and when you see the women "get it." My housemate and I enjoy this semi-trashy but strangely educational show and we even got her mother-in-law watching.

So there you have it: Tim Tams, Eric Hutchinson and "Tough Love." My current obsessions.

Henna

The mendhi design I got at a recent Bollywood event (serendipitously occurring right as I'm obsessed with Bollywood). The temporary pigment stain comes from crushed up henna leaves combined with oils and other ingredients. I stood in line for almost two hours waiting for this so I was sad it wasn't as good as other mendhi designs I've gotten before. But I had to give the woman a break. She'd done at least 50 other designs that night.

While I was waiting my turn I had fun watching the crowds dance and picking out Bollywood songs the DJ played that I recognized.

Bollywood, Take Me Away

The music, the dancing, the melodramatic acting ...

Bollywood movies have been a favorite escape for me since college, when several dormmates would show Indian movies during weekly movie nights. My first Bollywood movie was the Academy Award-nominated "Lagaan," which is set during British colonial-rule and focuses on Indian villagers taking on their local British authorities during a cricket match in order to not pay a ridiculously high lagaan, or tax. Plus there is a romance, because what is a Bollywood movie without a love story ... and many musical numbers with huge casts ... and a three-hour running time?

I think my love of Bollywood is really an extension of my love of musicals. I grew up adoring the Rodgers and Hammerstein films and MGM spectaculars. If I wasn't reading, you could find my 8-year-old self watching "Easter Parade" with my grandma, dancing in front of the TV to "Fan Tan Fanny," or belting out "Oh What Beautiful Morning." I was always an odd child.

Photo credit: DeaQuartet.co.uk

After falling out of favor, musicals have made a semi-comeback in Hollywood thanks to films like "Moulin Rouge" and "Chicago." But Bollywood has always been about the singing and dancing. To some American viewers, the plots and acting of some of the films might seem implausible. How exactly did that dancing couple suddenly get transported to a meadow in Switzerland?

I don't care. I find the fantasy of Bollywood irresistible. When I need to be carried away, a Bollywood flick will do that. I know that India is not just like the epic, glitter-strewn country depicted in its movies, just as the U.S. is not same as it is often depicted in Hollywood movies. But, from my non-expert eyes, the whole point of Bollywood seems to be embracing the celebratory aspects of Indian culture, allowing people to forget about their cares and be swept away by their emotions. I think that's what any good movie does.

Like it did last year, my local art museum recently had a Bollywood week, and I went and saw nine hours of Bollywood - "Om Shanti Om," "Veer-Zaara" and "Dhoom 2." So right now I'm a Bollywood addict. I've scoured YouTube looking for Bollywood clips, read Wikipedia entries on the history of Indian cinema, and topped off my Netflix queue with several Hindi movies.

However, I think I may need to taper off soon. I've caught myself quietly singing Hindi songs as I walk to the gym, dreamt of Hrithik Roshan walking in slow-mo towards me as a catchy whistling tune plays in the background, and teared up at the thought of being separated from my one true love for more than two decades because he's been falsely imprisoned defending my honor. I could be reaching the overload point. That's OK. The next time I need a singing/dancing/drama fix, I'll turn to Netflix.

Enough of my describing Bollywood. Here's "Maahi Ve," a wedding lovesong in "Kal Ho Naa Ho" that makes my heart jump every time I hear it. I especially love it when Shahrukh Khan (or really the person that does his singing) shouts out "Everybody Sing!" You'll probably want to as well after watching it.

Conversations with my father

My dad and I spend much of our days near computers at our respective work places. Because of the easy access, we'll often have these back and forth e-mail conversations that begin with one thing -- perhaps him suggesting a link for me to look at -- but they quickly devolve into back and forth jabs and one-upmanship, all delivered with great familial affection, of course.

A recent example taken verbatim from an e-mail exchange:

Dad: Ever hear of a quartet named Anonymous Four? Their song just came up on Pandora. Nice.

"Anonymous 4 Biography
The vocal group Anonymous 4 formed in 1986, originally comprising Johanna Maria Rose, Susan Hellauer, Ruth Cunningham and Marsha Genensky. So named in honor of the designation given by musicologists to the unknown 13th-century Parisian student whose writings detailed the vocal polyphony he heard at the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the ensemble's performances also explored medieval chanting and polyphony, combined with elements of poetry and narrative; debuting in 1992 with An English Ladymass, the Anonymous 4 immediately topped Billboard's classical music charts, a feat repeated by their 1993 follow-up On Yoolis Night. Subsequent efforts include 1995's The Lily and the Lamb and Miracles of Sant'iago, 1996's A Star in the East and 1997's 11,000 Virgins. After completing A Lammas Ladymass, Cunningham left the group in 1998 and was replaced by Jaqueline Horner. Legends of St Nicholas followed a year later. ~Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide"

Me: I actually saw them in concert with Karen back in our soph/junior year at Northwestern. She'd been a fan of their music and suggested we go. They were very good. Oh, look, I one upped you again. Double :P :P.

Dad: Who is your father REALLY!!??

Me: Some mysterious European royal?

Dad: You mean James II of Scotland?

"James II - a full-on idiot and fanatical Catholic. He was such a fanatic that even Louis XIV (who destroyed France's protestant--Huguenot--minority with despicable brutality) cautioned him to move slowly.
As the Durants put it,James was "suicidally immune to advice." To be fair, however, he was not a tool of France. Whereas his predecessor (and brother) Charles II was content to take huge subsidies from Louis to follow France's line in European politics; James II refused and Louis turned off the cash.
As Lord Macauley put it (might have the name wrong), "If James had been a Protestant or even a moderate Catholic, he probably would have had a decent reign" and the Stuart dynasty would have probably lasted a lot longer and, perhaps, the present Royal family would not be German (the "Windsors" real name is Saxe-Coburg-Gotha--from Prince Albert's family name--changed by George V during WWI because of the understandable anti-German feeling at the time)."

Me: Well if I was several hundred years old he could be my father. Perhaps I have some French bloodline connection from mom's side. Because there ain't no royal blood in you. :P

Dad: Me no like you!

Cost of raising and educating your only daughter: $335,000+
Raising your daughter to be as sarcastic as you: Priceless

Tivo-ing Life

I held off for a long time in getting Tivo because I worried it would only feed my TV-watching habit.

Even with cutting three shows out of my regular viewing schedule, I'll still be watching eight others come September: "House," "The Office," "Pushing Daisies," "30 Rock," "Chuck," "Ugly Betty," "Law & Order: SVU" and new show "Fringe." ("Mad Men" and "Project Runway" will be winding down by the time the fall season really gets going and "Law & Order: Criminal Intent" doesn't start again until November so I won't count them. "Lost" is a mid-season show.)

However, I justified purchasing Tivo in two ways: 1) my VCR was possessed by bad TV demons and would not record shows unless it was in the mood too; 2) with the fast-forwarding power of Tivo I get through shows twice as fast.

Speaking of fast-forwarding, I would like to thank Tivo for making my Olympic-watching experience a breeze. I could condense eight hours of competition into an hour and a half of viewing time. Swimming - good. Beach volleyball - click, click, click and it's gone. I discovered the joys of table tennis and the marathon thanks to the handy DVR.

I just wish I could Tivo my way past those election year sign wavers that stand by the road during my daily commute. I refuse to wave at anyone since I often don't know who their candidate is or whether I'd vote for him or her. But I feel embarrassed every time I pass them by and avoid making eye contact. And there's no click, click, click to speed by them.

Let's Talk Movie Etiquette, People

I went to see a movie this evening, on a weeknight when the theater had maybe 15 other people in it. And yet the following still happened in that small crowd:
1) A toddler was allowed to wander around the seats (though to the parents' credit, they took the kid outside when he started yelling). This was not exactly a family movie.
2) THREE people in front of me were texting with that annoying cellphone glow as a distraction.
3) Another person actually answered their cell and whispered through a short conversation (it did not sound like an emergency to me) during a relatively quiet, emotional scene.
4) There were the loud guffawer/commentators sitting off to my right.

What are the odds of all that happening in a small audience? Or maybe the offenders felt more at liberty to forget all movie-going etiquette because there were less people? I just don't know. It seems like common sense and respect to not text, talk loudly, let a toddler roam around or answer a cellphone during a film. I especially curse the day that texting became popular.

All I have to say is urgh.

A minor cooking success

DISCLAIMER: This entry falls under the "my roommates are still not back from summer break and I have no one else to share this with that would care other than my mother ... and I already called her" category.

I recently had a small kitchen triumph. I cooked a pork chop for myself and didn't burn it, cook it until it was too tough, or over season it. This may not seem like a big deal but for someone who is not a master cook, it was a successful hunk of meat.

Mark Bittman is responsible for my almost perfect chop. I followed the New York Times' Minimalist columnist's recipe "Sauteed Pork Chops (with Vinegar)," which I found in my copy of "How to Cook Everything." I read Bittman's column and print out recipes pretty religiously even if I haven't made half of his dishes. He makes cooking seem simple and he emphasizes basic ingredients and none of that prepackaged stuff, which he says doesn't really save you that much time. He hasn't completely convinced me of the latter but I can follow his recipes. His cookbook is also written like he's standing over your shoulder giving you advice.

Back to the pork chop. All it took was a little dry white wine, red wine vinegar, olive oil, butter, salt and pepper and rereading the recipe five times while I was preparing the chop to make it come out nice and firm but not tough or dry. OK, I did manage to set off the fire alarm when I added the wine to the sizzling hot pan, creating a billow of smoke that hovered in my house for the next ten minutes. And the chop might have been just a tad too vinegary, but overall I gave myself a pat on the back.

I happily ate the pork chop with a oil/butter reduction and some vegetables while watching "So You Think You Can Dance." It was a gloriously content little moment. After all, it's the simple things that make me happy.

Back from Sydney

Ah, Sydney, what a city!

I was in Sydney, Australia, for World Youth Day from July 13-23. First off the negatives: It was peak winter season in Australia, and I underestimated how warm my clothes should have been. It was a nippy 47 degrees F the night we slept out at Randwick Racecourse, and I must have been wearing five shirt layers along with sweat pants under my jeans. We also walked a lot to various events as that was often the only way for pilgrims to get out of these large, gated areas. One day we did a five-mile (not exaggerating) pilgrimage walk from The Domain to Randwick. The next day we had to walk back from the racecourse to our hostel, another three miles. Both times we were lugging all our sleeping bags and camp-out items! I had some blisters after that.

But honestly, even with the cold and the walking, World Youth Day (which is actually six days long) was an amazing experience. Seeing people from all over the world, singing, chanting, carrying their nations' flags and just full of the spirit is something I won't ever forget. And I saw the pope!

There he is. Doesn't he have the best car ever? I need me a popemobile, without the pope part.

After the official events were over, my group spent two and a half days playing tourist. I'd already gone to the Sydney Opera House for a Sydney Symphony performance of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis on July 18. The view from the opera house's northern foyer windows of Sydney at night is breathtaking. Unfortunately, I didn't bring my camera that evening, but here is a photo of the opera house taken during the day from a ferry.

We were on the ferry because we were headed to Taronga Zoo, just on the other side of the Sydney Harbor. We saw lot of iconic Aussie animals like kangaroos, wombats, wallabies, Tasmanian Devils, echidnas and ...

KOALAS! This 2-year-old female was just hanging out and eating when we photo ambushed her (actually me and three others split the $20 cost to take a photo with her).

The giraffes have an enviable waterfront home with a million-dollar view of the city.

The following day we went to the Blue Mountains, a 2-hour train ride west of Sydney, and took an Explorer Bus around the Katoomba/Leura area. Here are the Three Sisters, a famous rock formation with an accompanying aboriginal legend about a witch doctor that turned, you got it, three sisters into rocks for their protection.

You can sort of see that blue haze that gives the area its name, apparently caused by the sun hitting the eucalyptus oil in the air at a certain angle. We had a great time traipsing through nature after being in the city for the past week. It was a beautiful area, but even more beautiful of a sight was my lunch at a corner store in Katoomba, the infamous (at least in my mind) Burger With the Lot and a side of chips (a.k.a. french fries).

You can't really see it but at the bottom are beets and a pineapple circle and at the top an egg and ham. It was really tasty, especially after all that hiking.

We had to leave Wednesday afternoon to get to the airport for our evening flight, which brought us back to Hawaii the morning of the same day. That's the closest I'll come to time travel. Before we left, I and two other girls took a ferry to Manly, a suburb across the harbor from the CBD (Central Business District) that is right on the Pacific. It's normally a popular beach destination, but when we went arrived it was drizzling and cloudy. That did not stop the surfers out that day as you can see below.

It was still a lovely area even on a gray day and I managed to find the cheapest Cadbury Dairy Milk bars I'd seen so far at a Coles supermarket. By the way, I did a taste comparison when I got home between a Dairy Milk Caramello made in Australia and one made in the U.S. by Hershey and the Aussie chocolate won out. I'm afraid I won't be able to go back to Hershey's bars anytime soon.

I'm already wanting to get back to Australia. In the meantime I will have to live vicariously through the Aussie families I babysit for.

Australia-bound

I've been busy the past two weeks getting ready for my work trip to Australia. At the tail end of it, I'll get two and a half days to do what I like. The Aussie families I sit for have given me lots of suggestions. Among them:

• Take the ferry to Manly: Northern Sydney peninsula with a nice beach and the ferry ride there is supposed to be great.
  
• Order a burger with "the lot": An Aussie specialty burger with cheese,pineapple, bacon, egg, lettuce, beetroot (pickled beets) and tomato. That should be interesting. Other foods they said I need to try in Oz are a proper bacon and egg sandwich, fish and chips, and a cappuccino.
• Visit Taronga Zoo: You need to take a ferry ride across Sydney Harbor to get there, but it's supposed to be great, plus there's a sky tram across the zoo.
• Take a day trip to the Blue Mountains: West of Sydney and apparently a gorgeous area to hike and explore. I would love to do this, I just hope I'll have time.
• Go to Bondi Beach: Famous surfing beach, though supposed to be a bit touristy. I was told if I had to pick between Bondi and Manly I should pick Manly.
• See a performance at the Opera House: Which I am doing! I have tickets to a symphony performance there and I am thrilled about it.

Well, this post has gotten me more excited about exploring Sydney and the surrounding area. Now I just need to pack and wish I had an Australian accent.

"Up the Yangtze"

Here's my first movie recommendation on this blog. I just saw "Up the Yangtze," a recent documentary abut the Three Gorges Dam, which is causing the Yangtze River to rise, and how it is affecting people in China. It's far more compelling than I can convey here, but trust me, you should try and find a theatre that's playing it or rent it.

The film mostly follows a poor family, living on the water's edge and just getting by with farming and odd jobs. Because her family can't afford to send her to high school, the eldest daughter, who is 16, goes to work on a tourist boat cruise sailing up and down the Yangtze. We see her and a 19-year-old boy starting their work on this cruise ship. The girl's parents are shown trying to figure out what to do after the water has risen over their current home.

There are some hilarious moments, like the etiquette class for new cruise ship employees on how to interact with tourists (don't call them fat or pale, don't compare America to Canada, never talk about any serious political topics like Northern Ireland). And there are some heart-tugging moments like a man talking about how difficult it is to be a common person in China and the sight of the poor family at the side of the risen Yangtze looking at where their home and crops used to be.

Five years ago Peter Hessler wrote about the relocation caused by the Three Gorges Dam project, the largest hydro-electric power station in the world, and it continues today. I enjoy reading Hessler's work (including his two books, "Rivertown: Two Years on the Yangtze" and "Oracle Bones: A Journey Between China's Past and Present"), particularly since he backs up his writing with a real understanding of the Chinese people. He speaks the language and has lived in China since he first came there as a Peace Corps worker in the mid-90s.

Still photo from "Up the Yangtze"

The Painted Desk's Origins

Blame it on a quiet house.

My roommates have left for two months of summer break, and the house is dead quiet except for music streaming from Pandora on my computer. There is no 1-year-old yelping out happy cries and toddling into my room to pull down blankets, stuffed animals and figurines from shelves. I can't bother his parents with my random thoughts nor talk them out with the toddler, who is a great listener, by the way.

Instead, there I was this evening sitting at my new writing desk and chair, which are painted a bright turquoise blue and decorated with birds and flowers. The desk lifts up to reveal a red interior with compartments. Every time I look at it, I get these lovely waves of happiness. And so I decided to start The Painted Desk blog to get the random thoughts out that I can't tell my housemates.

I imagine this blog will be a tangle of posts on TV, movies, books, 80s childhood nostalgia, and other things I would normally blurt out to live people who are unfortunate enough to be in my general proximity.

And I hope it inspires me the same way my painted desk has.

Photo: Pier 1 Imports