no blog would be very hip and happening (do people still say that?) today if it didn't mention the recession. it's everywhere: in tv commercials that start off with "these days, it's important to...", in the newspapers and news channels, even on your paycheck. or lack thereof. it's impossible to turn the corner or simply stroll down the street without the recession sneaking up on you, one way or another.
even webster's is getting a make over with words like "recessionista" popping up. according to the nytimes, this refers to "the style maven on a budget" (article here). basically, there are women out there who refuse to give up style for financial difficulties. even in an economic crisis, fashionistas everywhere are still making an effort to look effortless.
to be honest, this is the healthiest reaction to the recession i've seen yet. i'm not saying that we should refuse to accept what's happened and put our heads in the sand, and neither are these women. they're adapting to their surroundings, something humans have lost the ability to do. we're used to running in, taking over, and depleting the resources around us. and yet, evolutionarily speaking, we've done pretty well so far, so what could possibly be stopping us now?
today, a recession is the equivalent of an ice age or sudden global warming: an unwelcome change in our surroundings that makes us re-evaluate our lives and living situations. we wake up one morning, and suddenly, the world is not the way we left it when we went to sleep the night before. so shouldn't we be dealing with this the way homo-sapiens have for ages? we adapt, we make the best of the situation, we survive, and we go on. we may not be as resilient as the cockroach, per se, but we are pretty good. if even style can withstand the recession, imagine our possibilities.
Showing posts with label definitions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label definitions. Show all posts
Monday, July 13, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Chapter 68: Home.
i have an address that i put down under the category of "home." it's a standard address with the house number, street, city, state and zip code. after having put it down so many times on job applications these days, i'm starting to get that feeling when you've looked at a word for too long. it just doesn't seem quite right anymore.
but maybe it's not because i've been looking at it for too long, but because i'm seeing it for the first time. is this home? this quintessential house in suburbia that i remember as the place where i fought to be noticed as the middle child and fought the enemy of teenage-dom known as acne, the place where i was never sure of myself or what the outside world contained. considering that we are a society that always notices the bad, why do we put so much emphasis on home when some of our hardest days are spent in that very place? doubts about who we are, what we can do, self-image, self worth all arise in the home, according to freud. so why such an emphasis on "home is where the heart is?"
one thing that college has taught me is the transience of this label. one month into my freshmen year, i started calling my impersonal-and-lacking-any-kind-of-privacy dorm room home. i remember the shock on my parents face when it slipped out one weekend they were visiting. i could see the hurt in my mom's face so i quickly took it back. the worst part that made me feel even guiltier? i meant it.
home for me has become so much more than four walls that hold my memories. home is now defined by people, places, emotions, and so much more. memories with significance have become my home, not the place where those significant memories were made.
then again, i have the luxury of speaking this way because i do have a place to return every night. meanwhile, those people with thousands of amazing experiences long for a place to call home. everyone knows that children are better off with a permanent set of walls. and even with this job search, i'm certain that being able to fill out the lines under "address" makes me a better candidate that someone who can't. this, too, is a result of my home, where i was taught to never settle for the hand i've been given.
but maybe it's not because i've been looking at it for too long, but because i'm seeing it for the first time. is this home? this quintessential house in suburbia that i remember as the place where i fought to be noticed as the middle child and fought the enemy of teenage-dom known as acne, the place where i was never sure of myself or what the outside world contained. considering that we are a society that always notices the bad, why do we put so much emphasis on home when some of our hardest days are spent in that very place? doubts about who we are, what we can do, self-image, self worth all arise in the home, according to freud. so why such an emphasis on "home is where the heart is?"
one thing that college has taught me is the transience of this label. one month into my freshmen year, i started calling my impersonal-and-lacking-any-kind-of-privacy dorm room home. i remember the shock on my parents face when it slipped out one weekend they were visiting. i could see the hurt in my mom's face so i quickly took it back. the worst part that made me feel even guiltier? i meant it.
home for me has become so much more than four walls that hold my memories. home is now defined by people, places, emotions, and so much more. memories with significance have become my home, not the place where those significant memories were made.
then again, i have the luxury of speaking this way because i do have a place to return every night. meanwhile, those people with thousands of amazing experiences long for a place to call home. everyone knows that children are better off with a permanent set of walls. and even with this job search, i'm certain that being able to fill out the lines under "address" makes me a better candidate that someone who can't. this, too, is a result of my home, where i was taught to never settle for the hand i've been given.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Chapter 67: Alumnus.
returning to one's alma mater is an interesting experience. i didn't quite expect how conflicted i would feel when i stepped back on to the campus of the university of pennsylvania last week after having graduated from there in may. on the one hand, i was thrilled to be back at the place where i i felt so free, so light, so like myself. college was, for me, the first place i was ever free to really be myself. i'm sure many other people equate college with freedom, but i'm not talking about the freedom that comes from binge drinking and partying. i mean the feeling of finding your interests and who you would like to be one day.
on the other hand, i was miffed at it's sudden change of heart. after four years of loyalty, that very same alma mater gave me my two weeks notice and told me to get the hell out. i'm not sure i can ever forgive it for ruthlessly and unceremoniously throwing me out to make room for its new lover, the class of 2013. (don't bother doing the math, they are young. let's just leave it at that.)
the first thing i realized? i'd forgotten things. getting out of the subway, i was suddenly very unsure of where i was and where i was going. were the streets the same? the stores? the people? i wasn't sure, but 5 seconds later, my feet grew accustomed and started walking to where i needed to go. never did i think that i would forget those places there seemed ingrained into my very skin.
i hate to say it, but i guess college was a temporary state of mind. i think i only realized that once i went back and suddenly, i didn't belong. time to move on, it seems.
on the other hand, i was miffed at it's sudden change of heart. after four years of loyalty, that very same alma mater gave me my two weeks notice and told me to get the hell out. i'm not sure i can ever forgive it for ruthlessly and unceremoniously throwing me out to make room for its new lover, the class of 2013. (don't bother doing the math, they are young. let's just leave it at that.)
the first thing i realized? i'd forgotten things. getting out of the subway, i was suddenly very unsure of where i was and where i was going. were the streets the same? the stores? the people? i wasn't sure, but 5 seconds later, my feet grew accustomed and started walking to where i needed to go. never did i think that i would forget those places there seemed ingrained into my very skin.
i hate to say it, but i guess college was a temporary state of mind. i think i only realized that once i went back and suddenly, i didn't belong. time to move on, it seems.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Chapter 66: Almost.
i hate the word "almost." to me, it's the equivalent of a kick in the crotch AFTER getting a right hook to the face and subsequent black eye. not only is the fact that you didn't get something being referenced, but it's also saying that you would have gotten what it is you wanted... except you didn't.
almost doesn't really make anything better so no one should be allowed to say it. to say that one "almost won a prize" essentially means that he or she didn't win. wasn't that the objective? it's wasn't to be in second place, but to be in first. there are really no compromises in that arena: the opposite of winning is losing, not almost winning.
almost doesn't really make anything better so no one should be allowed to say it. to say that one "almost won a prize" essentially means that he or she didn't win. wasn't that the objective? it's wasn't to be in second place, but to be in first. there are really no compromises in that arena: the opposite of winning is losing, not almost winning.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Chapter 65: Charity
what truly constitutes as charity? to be honest, this is something that has always interested me, ever since i started seeing those "adopt this child in a third world country" ads on tv. i always felt so awful seeing those small small children who clearly had so much less than i did.
and yet, part of me was skeptical. how did i know for sure that all the money i was sending away was being sent right to that little girl or boy who needs my help? i didn't. for all i knew, 2 cents of every dollar was actually being given to help, or 98 cents of my dollar was being given to help.
does seeing the effects of one's charity make a difference? unfortunately, it does. in this day, we need to see the fruits of our labors, charity and otherwise. not knowing all the facts makes us cynical, then mistrusting, and finally unwilling to help. but have we considered that maybe it's the fact that we're helping at all that counts? we haven't because the sentiment of "even one person can make a difference" has been erased from our cliches of thought. we all had that experience of being a child and working so hard to make a change only to be let down in the worst way possible. maybe it was a lemonade stand to raise money for a cause, maybe it was trying to help out a neighbor during the summer, anything. not only were we let down by the lack of follow through, but we were taught from that moment on that success is only the measure of the product of our work.
as we've grown older, this idea has only been further enhanced by each stage of our life. success in high school means a diploma, in college it's a degree, in life it's a job and a family. with a charity, success is seeing the change we sought out to bring. for some this mantra might still hold true, but i'm beginning to realize that success is really the growth of something. for all i know, my 2 cents can do a lot more out there in the world than in my pocket, and that's a risk i'm willing to take.
and yet, part of me was skeptical. how did i know for sure that all the money i was sending away was being sent right to that little girl or boy who needs my help? i didn't. for all i knew, 2 cents of every dollar was actually being given to help, or 98 cents of my dollar was being given to help.
does seeing the effects of one's charity make a difference? unfortunately, it does. in this day, we need to see the fruits of our labors, charity and otherwise. not knowing all the facts makes us cynical, then mistrusting, and finally unwilling to help. but have we considered that maybe it's the fact that we're helping at all that counts? we haven't because the sentiment of "even one person can make a difference" has been erased from our cliches of thought. we all had that experience of being a child and working so hard to make a change only to be let down in the worst way possible. maybe it was a lemonade stand to raise money for a cause, maybe it was trying to help out a neighbor during the summer, anything. not only were we let down by the lack of follow through, but we were taught from that moment on that success is only the measure of the product of our work.
as we've grown older, this idea has only been further enhanced by each stage of our life. success in high school means a diploma, in college it's a degree, in life it's a job and a family. with a charity, success is seeing the change we sought out to bring. for some this mantra might still hold true, but i'm beginning to realize that success is really the growth of something. for all i know, my 2 cents can do a lot more out there in the world than in my pocket, and that's a risk i'm willing to take.
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