Category: help

  • Oh, the talents I have.


    Yeah I made this chair. And I whipped up a few recipes too. All for a guest blog entry I wrote on {Love Stitched}. Even I can be crafty sometimes. Just don’t ask me to pop out any kids or anything.

  • A poetic tantrum

    Fuck. I’ve caught up. No more travel stories. No more muddy pant legs or sweaty scarves or damaged cameras. It’s all over. I’ve got a lease in my hand and a pen that is about to sign my life back into normal-dom. And I don’t wannaaaaaaaa. Somewhere along the way, I got the idea that staying put and having a job and having pets and being ‘normal’ was horrific. So, this pen represents for me a life that I don’t want to live. Ah! What should I do? I was just frolicking among the rubber trees in Laos and now I’m in a sterile cubicle. My synapses are protesting. I’m pounding my feet into the warm Santa Monica ground and screaming and wailing and tantruming more than I did when I was fourteen and calling my mom a bitch. I am in a perfect state of confused chaotic panic that I secretly love because it can only mean a new beginning. In times like these, I can only write a poem, which is weird because I’m not really a poetry kind of girl. Something is seriously amiss.
    I saw the world
    I wrote a blog
    I ate a lot
    I pet some hogs
    I sweat on trains
    I puked up peas
    I chased the rains
    I switched to teas
    I met new friends
    I donned new clothes
    I gave kids pens
    I took some blows
    I pet a fish
    Saw skirts on men
    Some made of pigs
    Some made of hens
    I had this thing
    It defined who I am
    Now, very over
    And I question again
    Back to life
    Back to reality
    Searching for a word
    That rhymes with reality
    Back to work
    Back to before
    This time it’s different
    I’m so much more
  • Can’t someone just start a war over there or something?

    Remember when I said I hated the Vietnamese government and talked shit about them (here)? Well, they’re back to their old games, they are. Those bastards.

    Thich Nhat Hanh is a Vietnamese monk. And he’s not part of the government, so I like him. Even MLK Jr. liked him and nominated him for a Nobel Peace Prize. Visiting his monastery is what got me interested in meditation and sparked my interest in taking this very trip.

    But the Vietnamese government has hated him since the 60s. During the Vietnam war, he called for peace. This was speaking out against the government, so they kicked him out of the country. For good. For calling for peace! Then, years later, the Vietnamese decided they needed foreign investors and wanted off the US’s blacklist regarding religious freedom. Yes, even though they have museums dedicated to blaming the US for every Vietnamese malady in current civilization, the government wanted to be friends again.

    So…. Forty years after kicking him out, they invited Thich Nhat Hanh back to his homeland. He came, established Bat Nha monastery in the mountains, and began to give peace a chance. People flocked to him and his interpretation of what Buddhism should be (slightly less superstitious than the Buddhism the government likes). Soon he had 400 monks and nuns living there. He encourages people to stop when they hear a bell ring, take a breath, be thankful that they’re alive, and go find a flower. Of course he’s gonna have followers. The man lulls your brain into a peaceful trance at just the sight of his gentle eyes:

    “Uh oh,” said the Socialist Vietnamese government. “Young people have power, and most of Thich Nhat Hanh’s 400 monks are young and well-educated.” I can just imagine some 3-foot Vietnamese version of Glen Beck saying, “We can’t let those capitalists capitalize. They’re terrorists. They’re not even born in Vietnam. We better get ‘em.”

    Now, after Vietnam has been taken off the US religion blacklist, become a member of the WTO and attracted more foreign investment, they can send a group to destroy Thich Nhat Hanh’s Bat Nha monastery.

    And that’s what they did on Sept 27th. They busted in and tore Bat Nha to the ground.

    A mob 150 deep grabbed the meditating monks and forced them outside “like animals.” They kicked in doors, threw supplies and books into the rain, and tore up all monastic property. What did the monks do? They continued meditating. The nuns locked themselves into their hamlets, but the mob persisted, forcing them out with weapons. Most of the monastics are from 15-25 with nowhere to go.

    The Thich Nhat Hanh camp says:

    Our goal is not to condemn the instigators of violence. Experience teaches us that judging and demonizing are counter-productive. All human beings experience suffering and seek a way to attain well-being: some through power, others through spiritual pursuits. Without judging or imposing our point of view, we can legitimately affirm our need to live in peace and harmony and seek deeper understanding.

    For goodness sake, the man is a beacon of peace. I heard this story and wanted to go kick some dictatorial ass. I could too. I was taller than every man in that there country. What he’s asking is that we all stay informed at helpbatnha.org and spread the word. Also, since the U.S. has decided to remove Vietnam from the list of Countries of Particular Concern (CPC) regarding religious freedom, we need everyone to urge the U.S. to change that status! Please email Hillary Clinton directly; a sample letter is here.

    I will now go await a truck of small Vietnamese men who will surely be waiting for me with rice sacks the moment I hit ‘publish.’ Nice knowing you.