I went 'Rogue' and I'm glad to be back.

Dear SP-

Well, I know one thing for sure after reading ‘Going Rogue.’ And that’s that the subtitle should read “An Alaskan Life” instead of ‘An American Life.’ I read this book to hear you out if you will, and as much as the book was written with a twinge of 8^th grade jabs at various individuals, I definitely heard you loud and clear. If anyone ever pissed you off, well they can expect to see their name in print. I’m glad I went ‘rogue’ with you SP, because I needed more information and I got it and intend on sharing it with others. Please, hear me out. I promise not to go all ‘rogue’ on you like you did on us.

On your prideful nature: I’m all about hometown pride. Well, Gresham was just reported to be the most dangerous city in Oregon and fared higher in the rankings than both LA and NY I believe, but be that as it may, I grew up there. Oregon itself is fantastic. We’ve got the mountains, the beach, the lovely rain (I’m being sincere), and the gift of seasons. However, I live to travel…internationally, nationally, it is something vital to my existence. It is necessary that I communicate, eat, and walk in different backyards to create a larger understanding than what I might of just assumed is right sitting on my own couch without ever taking a journey. SP you seem to think that Alaska is MORE than enough.

You are prideful in your state to a fault. You constantly refer to the other 49 states in this union that you are “allegedly” so proud of as ‘Outsiders’ throughout the entirety of this book. I don’t know if I would ever want someone sitting in The Oval Office making decisions for a bunch of ‘Outsiders’ because how can you possibly understand us if you yourself feel this way? You were even surprised when you spotted an Alaskan reporter on the campaign trail when you wrote, “He’d made it Outside to track us down” (Palin, 255)! Yes, ever since the creation of planes, automobiles and ships, people have realized their potential to cross state and even country lines. For real.

As if being ‘Outsiders’ isn’t bad enough, you give Alaskans this ‘holier than thou’ stance while making assumptions about the residents of the other 49 states (assumptions as you apparently hadn’t gotten out much before Campaign ‘08). This first excerpt is clearly offensive to any Oregonian as we are a leader of being a “green” state.” “For many in Alaska, being “green” isn’t about wearing Birkenstocks and driving a hybrid; it’s about survival” (Palin, 28). Oh, so that’s what we all think being green is. Thanks for clearing that up.

This next excerpt may be my favorite of the entire book at your sheer incompetence about the rest of America, which you seem to love so much, but know little about. “…[W]ildfires in the Lower 48 are often treated as natural disasters. Up here, we often let them burn, knowing that from fire-blackened lands new growth will spring” (Palin, 208). Really SP? Did you just say that? While you may live in a HUGE state and constantly remind us of that (see page 133 as an example) area wise, no one lives there (Alaska is 47/50 in population)! The reason we can’t just allow wildfires to burn relentlessly on the “Outside” is because people LIVE here and we must protect their homes, possessions, and oh yeah, their lives. So yes, it IS a disaster instead of this “precocious occasion of rebirth.”

On party lines: SP, you emphasize how much you dislike political labeling, that you’d like to reach across the aisle, but describe yourself as a conservative until we find a better title. However, you consistently attach negative adjectives to liberals. Hint, when you describe yourself as “mavericky” and always “mixin things up” maybe your own book is an appropriate venue in which to can these political terms that you abhor. And tacking on ugly names onto a certain group of people that you want to work together on issues with may or may not be the best idea.

You also choose to separate instead of integrate when you talk about that damned liberal media. On one occasion you say: “the time has come to acknowledge that it is a counterfeit objectivity the liberal media try to sell consumers” (Palin, 348). Interesting, because FIVE pages prior, you mentions how FOX had started “character assassinations” on you right after the campaign. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we can agree that FOX is a more conservative than liberal news outlet, right? Then seriously…FIVE pages later you are going to attack only the liberal media, SP?? Who edited your book? Let me know so I can veto them from my list of editors.

After many statements like above where you slander liberals, you present this at the end of your book: “I also don’t like the narrow stereotypes of either the ‘conservative’ or the ‘liberal’ label, but until we change the lingo, call me a Commonsense Conservative” (Palin, 384). Reading the 383 pages prior to this sentence, a reader, a skeptical reader no less, would never have thought you had such complacent views on political party affiliation, SP. I don’t think I need to say it, but that sentence is in direct contradiction of what you’ve been saying the rest of the book! That right there is the definition of going rogue. And no, not in the folksy way you mean it, but in the true definition of “rogue” – a dishonest person.

On taking responsibility: Everyone saw the botched interview where you fell flat on your face, SP. You begin to take blame for your own ‘annoyances’ with Katie Couric and how she got the best of you and you reacted negatively. I was happy for you to take that responsibility and own up; not placing blame on anyone else. But just as with most of the book up until this point, you slide in a catty phrase as if to get the upper hand and hit a low blow into Couric’s ovaries, where it really hurts. Her ratings. “That bracket of time also included my seemingly endless serial chat with the lowest-rated news anchor in network television, Katie Couric” (Palin, 270). Oh well, SP, we know how you deal with low ratings. You resign.

On SNL: “Tina’s impression became so omnipresent-and so unchallenged-that some people blurred SNL skit dialogue with what I had actually said…this is make or break stuff” (Palin, 309). SP, as your book has been, SNL is purely for entertainment value and in the last 35 years that they’ve been on the air there have been approximately 9 other presidential elections. While Tina Fey’s impression was impeccable and hilarious, you are not the first nor will you be the last to be imitated on what is a sketch comedy show, not a news network. They even let you come on and do a few sketches to get your agenda out. Give me a break and the American people more credit for actually watching the debates and SNL to decide for themselves what is “true because it’s funny” which frankly, it was. And I watched all of it (much like all the papers you said you read during your ‘annoyed’ interview with that lowest rated news anchor).

SP, I will make sure to pass this book around in an effort to recycle (I don’t wear Birkenstocks but I do in fact reduce and reuse) this amongst my friends so they won’t have to pay the $9 plus shipping and thus, no more copies will have to be printed. Then I will give it to Powell’s (that’s the largest bookstore in our great nation). I think it’s important to get as many eyes on this as possible before that fateful day we hear you are running for office in 2012. That way, you can’t accuse me of not voting for you because of those crazy liberal journalists, but because of your own incompetence that you have put into a book for me to read. Thank you for that early Christmas present.

-Teela

PS…Just because I enjoyed reading it so much the first time, I had to put it in print again. “If God had not intended for us to eat animals, how come He made them out of meat” (Palin, 133)? Which brings me to wonder SP, why then are we made out of meat?

The Critic.

Over Thanksgiving dinner, my extended family who doesn't have the 'joy' of spending much time with me, told me something that may have changed my life a little. After a particular comment I made on some random topic, my Uncle managed to suck in some oxygen through his airwaves and force the Turkey he'd been chewing, excuse me, choking on down, and said: "Teela, you should be a critic." Little did he know just a few days before I had written a full blown review on 'New Moon.' Maybe more of the ambiance and actual experience of the movie-going experience on opening night than the actual plot line and acting, but nonetheless a review. Guess we're on the same page.

11.19.09. Clackamas Town Center. 12:10AM showing of "New Moon."

There's the emo kids who feel like vampires are the only ones who truly understand them. The sexually confused boys who aren't sure if they should be Team Bella...or Edward. There's the clique-ish girls who are hopeful that their Edward Cullen exists. Well guess what, he's dead and has been for 100+ years. Facial pierced teens discuss the most recent base they got to with their BF's or GF's, college and having their very first apartment (happy they're considering, not promising success), and express their disdain for curfew. And I'm quoting now, "I don't care, I'm already going to be tired as f*ck in the morning, I might as well stay out as late as possible." Oh to think a lack of sleep was cool again...

This scene could be none other than the midnight movie goers of Twilight: New Moon.

I'm still not quite sure why I am here and am baffled that I have anything in common with 99.5% of the people here. The last time I was confronted with a crowd of this monstrosity was to witness our 44th President of the United States get sworn in. And the Macy's Thanksgiving parade. Way worth it.

A girl is panting behind us like a tired Scottish Terrier (is this even a dog?) after a jog .2 miles too long because this is obviously the only way to deal with the anticipation. Another group discusses the casts latest appearances and awards they've won. I use the term "awards" lightly as most of these have been administered by MTV and let's face it, those don't really count...well, unless you're Kanye. These people know EVERYTHING. Stalkers. I mean okay, I admit I did DVR some Robert Pattinson appearances, but that's okay because it's not a tween obsession because he's actually my age. And I have a chance. You know since they'll be filming here again and all we're bound to cross paths, right? RIGHT?!?

I look over at the BFF and we nonverbally share our sheer state of confusion as to why we are here and roll our eyes at what is to come. Oh guilty pleasures. They'll drag your butt out of bed when you should be sleeping (note to teen girl from earlier, lack of sleep is so not cool) and into a stinky, packed, movie theater at 12:10AM to watch a teen vampire fight with a teen wolf over a human girl who really wants to be a vampire. As if hormones weren't bad enough.

Tyra, how I loathe thee..let me count the ways...

A friend of mine, who's name won't be mentioned to protect her identity, suggested I write a blog about the one person who irritates me the most: Ms. Tyra Banks. I didn't always not like Tyra, but it seems like in the past 5-7 years, she has clawed her way up the Hollywood sign to make sure she stayed famous after her model-esque body said buh-bye. What has she done for me to dislike her so, you ask? I'm glad you asked...let me begin.

5. She started 'America's Next Top Model.' Now, I am guilty of watching this show for maybe 6 of the 13ish seasons. I think the people are interesting, the shoots are cool, and of course, who doesn't like watching drama that isn't their own. BUT Tyra just created this show to tell other people how to model more like her. If that isn't narcism, I don't know what is. And no Tyra, I can't see the difference. I must not be cut out to be a model.

4. She thinks she's Oprah. Well you might say, Teela you're not mad at Ellen for taking a 4pm competing spot with Oprah, so why the anger towards Tyra's early afternoon show? Well, Ellen knows who she is and sticks to what she's good at-comedy. Tyra is a model...not a therapist and has no experience or accreditation that says otherwise. So stop giving sucky advice and further ruining these poor people's lives.

3. She won an 'Emmy' for a show that she claims to bring people on to "help" although most of the time, it always comes back to her 'rough' childhood. Man, going to Paris at 17 and then making millions of dollars does suck.

2. In her Emmy speech she thanked her mother for her perspiration. Yes, I would thank my mother for my sweat glands as well. Idiot.

1. And the number one reason I can't stand Tyra is because she once equaled herself to our Civil Rights leaders. I'm sorry Tyra, you were never incarcerated for anything you did and I think in categorizing yourself with these true leaders, you are discrediting their fight. You were blessed with an anorexically (word?) thin body that someone said, hey, let's put a swimsuit on that and use you in commercials and magazines and stuff. Good for you. But being the first Black model on the cover of 'Sports Illustrated' is hardly equal to MLK or Rosa Parks fighting for equal rights. Dumbass.

QuarTeela: A Reflection of Hitting the Quarter Century Mark

I think when we begin to describe our birthdays in measurements that relate to "century" we are officially feeling that we are on the decline of life. Well, if you are lucky to die from natural causes or "old age" that is. I on the other hand, don't see it that way. I am so sick of people thinking we are SO OLD when we are merely mid 20's...have we forgotten that just 10 short years ago we were rounding off our frosh year of high school? Yeah, def not old. Instead, people are practically doing a 100 m dash down the aisle and pounding out babies, losing all perspective that once all that happens they won't have the opportunity to be young, selfish (trust, this is not a bad thing) and carefree anymore...which is why, I think, we see so many people getting divorced. Rush rush rush..what's the point? Enjoy and appreciate this moment because it will never come again.

I'm not saying I don't ever have these thoughts, but I've never been one to settle so I'd rather pass up on the mediocre and enjoy singlehood rather than shackle someone into marriage, which I think a lot of young people do out of fear of ending up alone. I also just watched "He's Just Not that into you" for the second time, and I know movies don't exactly equal reality, but some stories have truth to them. Which character got cheated on? Oh, the one who gave her husband an ultimatum right after college that they get married or break-up. Stupid.

I'm not saying I am without the fear I'm sure many people experience about ending up alone, but glad (right word?) that I've been around enough divorces to not fall into that fear. Note: I'm not saying that all young people who get married do this...kudos if you have really found THE ONE. Double kudos for those staying single and strong and not settling, popping out Jr's and namesakes yet.

Maybe I'm just a big kid and am afraid to really grow up; this coming from the woman who just spent her 25th in Disneyland. Yes, you did not read that wrong. I called out to characters, "Hey Minnie!", sang "Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho a pirate's life for me!"loudly on 'Pirates of the Caribbean', and enjoyed a cinnamony-sugary delicious Churro during my waiting time for Round 2 on 'Space Mountain.' I have no shame.

I think after going through enough events in life that have not gone according to once you wrote down on paper or envisioned it to be, you stop making plans (except for the next fab vacay) and live each day independently rather than setting out unrealistic goals only to break at the seams leading you to feel like you've failed yourself. That's no way to live.

Everyone always wonders why I like to celebrate my birthday for like a week's time instead of just the day. It's not that I have to be the center of attention (not gonna lie, can be fun!) but I have friends from different places and points of my life and it's the one time of year I get them all together (under stringent guilt of course) and it's wonderfully awesome. I think when they interact with each other pieces of me are better understood by other friends. They may understand a side of me they didn't know existed. "Oh, she likes to write?" "What she's a beer snob?" "Huh? She wants to read 50 books this year and belongs to a book club?" "She has a weird obsession with hating bumperstickers?" "I didn't know she even went to college-could've fooled me!" I felt so lucky to have 3 tables of friends and family celebrating in Portland and blessed to have 5 more join me in California for an extended celebration on RT '09 (You ladies and gent :) are fabuloso).

So when these feelings of fear peek in and I have a moment of "OMG I'm not married and I'm single at 25?!?!"...I feel better knowing that I am completely surrounded with the best security blanket of friends and family who won't judge me if I'm not married by 28. Or 30. Or 35. Okay, fear moment at 35. Moreso, I'm lucky that I'll be able to spend these special moments with them. Thanks to all of you who make me feel so incredibly loved.

I took trains, planes, & Automobiles: Inauguration 2009

I’m flying back across the US and trying to come down from a huge high. This time yesterday I was standing in a throng of millions of people. Young, old, American, and those from other far reaching points of the world. I considered this to be the most beautiful moment I have ever witnessed in my 24 short years of a pretty great life. I am swallowing back tears writing this and the only reason I resist is because I don’t particularly want to be the one that my fellow passengers go home and refer to as crazy girl who was crying by herself on the plane. No thanks.
I didn’t sleep at all the night before Inauguration. Typical for an insomniac I suppose, but I compulsively looked at my cell phone all night to make sure I wouldn’t miss my alarm, in the event that I would be counting any sheep. Finally, father time put me out of my misery and digitally delivered 5:30 AM on my Blackberry screen. Freaking finally.
After putting on a gazillion layers, the four of us headed out to catch the bus. By a sheer act of fate that the universe loved me (a far cry from the previous day, self-induced, I admit), we caught a free un-crowded bus that took us from Shirlington (in Virginia) to just three blocks away from the National Mall. The transportation gods however, would not display the same mercy on us after Inauguration. More on that in a later entry.
The sun hadn’t quite woken up by the time we’d arrived which was a little before 7AM. I am not good at guesstimating temperatures, nor am I excited to debate how cold it may be when I’m experiencing such harsh conditions. Since exposing myself from these conditions I’ve heard from a few news reports, family members, and my two-million closest friends for the day, we were in the frosty neighborhood of 10 degrees with wind chill. I imagine myself sweating upon my arrival into Portland because it will probably be in the 40’s. Home sweet home.
Not everyone is aligned with my let’s-not-talk-about-how-freaking-cold-it-is mentality. In fact, everyone preferred to do quite the opposite. The Jumbotrons plastered information on how to know if you are experiencing hypothermia and/or frostbite, so that was optimistic. Chicago lady who seriously was the most annoying person I’ve ever come into contact with, decided it would be a good idea to complain about EVERYTHING. I was silently wishing that she’d be the one to endure frostbite and have to leave so I didn’t have to listen to it for the next 5 hours. Example: “It’s only 7? You mean we still got 3 hours before ANYTHING starts?”
When God didn’t grant me this, I figured it had been a pretty spectacular year already being that I was lucky enough to be freezing at the National Mall awaiting for history to transpire before my eyes. Can’t have it all, I guess.
We made some friends outside of Chicago-lady-I-hoped-would-suffer-from-frostbite. We had San Diego guy who apparently was never visiting the East coast again in the winter, cute New York guy, as my friend penned him, and older guy who came solo and I loved him for it. For coming solo and for his sporadic “Oh yeah! Wooh!” that he repeated. Seriously, it was so precious.
As much fun as it is to reminisce the waiting, I think I’ll just get to the good part…the reason this group of strangers were suddenly crammed like a can of “Chicken of the Sea” together. Obama. Let me preface this with the fact that I had begun crying Monday night. These tears were born in pure happiness, anticipation, and disbelief of what was happening to this beautiful country. These tears were born in disgust of the treatment, no, brutality that my ancestors beared; being manacled as they were brought to America not as human beings, but as animals. These tears were born in the tears that my grandmothers both internally shed when they were turned away at diners, grocery stores, drinking fountains in the ugly segregated South. These tears were born in my sincere gratitude and admiration that I hold toward my parents when they had to figure out a way to fill my brother and my bellies without either of us knowing any of the wiser. These tears were born in the success I have been so blessed to be able to achieve because of all these struggles; A 24 African-American woman with a Master’s degree and a great job. Okay, there goes my crying rule on a plane. Let them talk about me.
The only word that comes to mind besides the overly clichéd cool, calm, and collected phrase that I could think of when I first saw Obama gliding his way through the capitol was badass. This actually was happening. Then the waterworks began and didn’t yield until Bush descended from the capitol steps. I did for a nanosecond feel sorry for the guy when the crowd erupted into chants of “nah-nah-nah, hey-hey-hey, goodbye!” I did not participate. It was finally OUR day and whatever Bush may have severely damaged while in office, the pain he has caused people worldwide, and the true in competencies he displayed, he’s gone now. It is our turn now and it’s not likely we can go back in time to 2000 and do the right thing in Florida and put Gore in office. What’s done is done and we are moving on. Farewell G Dub.
There was a lull between introducing Biden, Michelle Obama, the girls, and President Bush before Obama came out the closed doors. Then a 1600 volt of electricity surged through the crowd and it was no longer cold. American flags waved, screams deafened, numbed feet left the mall ground. Spectacular. There really is no other word to describe the intensity and emotion of that moment. Obama has said “this is our moment” for the last 22 months and here it was. Spectacular. Just the way I hoped it would feel when I first became an Obama supporter in January of 2008 after his New Hampshire primary speech. Here are people who might have never even purchased an American flag, granted these ones were free, that were now waving them with toothy grins spread across their faces and literally were risking hypothermia and/or frostbite to see Barack Hussein Obama II become our 44th President. I believe our American dream has been restored and our American pride unearthed. Dr. King, your dream is manifesting. We are at the peak of the mountaintop and I think Obama will help us weather the storms that may come our way that tries to blow us back down.
Together...YES WE CAN.

Spielberg, Whoopi, & Pausch

After a very frustrating and emotionally crazy evening yesterday, I sat down to watch the Golden Globes. I don’t know why I do this when I could youtube.com the 2 decent acceptance speeches out of the gazillion train wrecks and embarrassing moments. Although, if I would’ve done this, would I have seen J Lo refer to herself as “mama” when her peers wouldn’t shut up for her to present her award? I believe it went something like, “Sshh Mama’s talking, Mama’s talking.” In true Dwight Schrute spirit (for all you ‘Office’ fans), Question: When you become a mother, does that give you free reign to refer to yourself as ‘mama’ to those that are not your children? Is that why all black people call each other sister and brother since they are someone ELSE’S brother and/or sister? Hmm…something to think about.

One of the non-moronic speeches of the night was one that was for an award that was beyond well-deserved and that was none other than Mr. Steven Spielberg. Steven Spielberg has brought us a story about an Extra Terrestrial living with an American family, put T-Rex in a freaking park in the present day (Yes, this was a book…but the effects are kind of incredible), made Will Smith a badass, and also touched our hearts with a green ogre finding love. Now, most people would think of these ideas at face-value as crazy. You’re going to do what?? Right…no one will ever go for that. An alien living with people, sweet, good luck dude. I mean, M&M’s even refused to have their candy featured on “ET” because they were sure it’d be a flop. Aah, and that’s why Reeses Pieces were invented (this is fact, I tell no lies). I do this all the time. Not create Reeses Pieces, but think an idea is too crazy to be put on paper or screen. But then Spielberg changed my life a little bit. He said: “I always ask myself, can I get away with it?” He refuses to pursue any project where this question isn’t burning in the depths of his skull. Fear drives him and somehow, it hinders a lot of the rest of us from ever pursuing those crazy-not-in-a-hundred-years type of dreams.

Pausch emphasized a similar idea in his book, “The Last Lecture,” when he repeated that we all should follow those crazy wild childhood dreams. And that dude reached zero gravity. Never played in the NFL (which he wanted to-hey can’t have it all I guess), but became a Disney Imagineer and reached zero freaking gravity.

I guess they just had the itch and the only way to relieve it was to scratch the surface of their dreams.

I think Whoopi said it best in ‘Sister Act 2.’ “If you wake up in the morning and the only thing you can think about is singing, then you’re a singer girl.”

[This is a metaphor, I don’t want to be a singer.]

Today, I will write.

Oh-Nine

Another year has started...and I am older but none the wiser.
Okay, so that last statement may be fictitious, but I certainly was not looking forward to ending another year and I really became irritated about the big hoopLAH of what a new year brings. What is the big deal? So the Earth has finished rotating around the sun...so? That dictates how you want to change your life and gives us this surmountable pressure to list all these things we want to do in the next 365 days and if we fall short we are failures? Eh, I'm not so much of a fan of setting myself up for disappointment.
Now what I might say next may make you think of me as hypocritical (get used to it-I'm allowed, it's my blog). After my initial annoyance of New Year's Resolutions, I began to think what I want to accomplish in Oh-Nine. I look at them as "goals" however and not so much as resolutions. Not any of that, "I'm going to work out everyday" and "No more Reeses Pieces Peanut Butter Cups for me" garbage. More like, I'm just going to be the best person that I can be and here are a few things I need to do, places I need to go, and habits that need to be avoided.
Things I need to do:
-Continue to read as much as possible
-WRITE!!!!!!!!! WRITE!!!!!!!!! WRITE!!!!!!! (Hence the creation of my blog)
-Throw parties for obscure holidays just for the hell of it and to spend time with friends :)
-Continue to be the best correspondent I can be and keeping in touch with my family and extended family (AKA good friends)


Places I need to go:
CHECK-DC for Inauguration
-Peru in November
-Somewhere in the states that isn't glamourous but probably fantastic

Habits that need to be avoided:
-Being unproductive on weekends (Well, I can be lazy to an extent)
-Getting all worked up over the small things (And as Frances McDormand and George Clooney remind us on the fabulous film that IS 'Burn After Reading'..."They're ALL small things")
DISCLAIMER: This does not mean I am not ever going to get irritated, upset, or cry. I am afterall human.


These lists are subject to change and grow.