Playing Catch-Up

Three years is a long time – and I owe a brief explanation of the goings on since we last spoke.

In that time I have travelled – I travelled to Russia for the first time. This trip didn’t come at the most opportune time – coming as it did a few months after the invasion of Ukraine – but it was the realization of a long time ambition of mine. Ever since I came across a National Geographic article about the Trans-Siberian railroad - the idea of Russia has held me enraptured. (Okay – the excesses of the Romanov’s and Fabrege eggs may have also played their part in this obsession.).

I started a small side business – making jewelry –and have been selling part of the collection in a local gourmet and home-goods store. It's provided me a totally different experience and perspective - and I do make lovely things.

I recently left state employment and went into private practice. This was big for me – stepping away from the security (and pension plan) of the known and out into the private practice wilderness. I can’t tell you how glad I am I took the step, it has equipped me with the confidence and conviction for my next step: returning to school to get a Masters in Health Administration this coming fall.

I’ve had my romantic ups and downs – there are days recently when I think I have finally cracked “how to be single” and have a hella-good time. (Vive la difference).

Life is good. Life is short.
I’d love to share the ride with you.

XO,
Tina

Hello from the other side / I must have (thought about) writing a thousand times.





So...what does one say after three years? How have you been? Gosh, you look good. Haven't aged a day....I've thought of you.


I would like to try again.


Love,
Tina

The Guilty Secret

I am absurdly excited for the return of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. The drama! The diamonds! That wonderful smug feeling of superiority that comes from observing the dysfunctionality and narcissism of the well-(Louboutin & YSL)-heeled. But what is this nonsense about premiering with Vanderpump Rules? #not-interested.

Contentment

I love those Sunday afternoons when the bills are paid, the house is - momentarily - clean, the refrigerator stocked for the coming week and one can just stretch out on the couch contentedly and think: Adulthood, NAILED it. #toofew #farbetween.

How I love these first few last days of summer! It is the best of all worlds - the sun and warmth of summer but with that cool undertone of approaching fall. Absolutely heart it. Wish I wasn't stuck indoors...

La vie est bonne - on a Saturday at least!

I felt French this morning - walking 'to market' with my oversized purse over my arm as my shopping case. Granted "market" wasn't Aux Halles or the other Saturday market dotting the French landsape - but the Harris Teeter up the road and around the bend - but the principle was the same. That principle being activity in pursuit of food that doesn't come out of a bag or box. Cue the rolling hum of cicadias and the fruit tree lined sidewalk (all the leaves dulled to an olive grey under this southern summer heat) and I felt wonderfully European and self-satisfied. La vie est bonne! Buonne! Bueno! Gute! To celebrate I will continue in this European fashion and have a glass of sparkling wine with my brunch and I will sit on my couch looking out over my leafy patio. I would sit outside - but, as mentioned before, it is hot, and buggy. And it doesn't do to stray too far from one's roots. So the couch it is...and if that turns to a little TV...that's not such a bad thing either, for a Saturday. Tschus, Anna

I love a woman who knows she "knows her shit"

Last night Julia Ioff (current senior Editor for The New Republic, former journalist for The Washington Post, The New Yorker, and Foreign Policy appeared on Lawrence O'Donnell's show on MSNBC to discuss the White House's decision to cancel the scheduled September summit with Putin in Moscow in advance of the G20 meeting. The interview wasn't particularly successfull (this riddle inside an enigma is not easily translated into outraged soundbites) but her blog response to the on-air skirmish is brilliant. You can read the whole post at The New Republic, but have included an excerpt here (emphasis added):

I was invited on the show to talk about Obama's (very wise) decision to cancel his Moscow summit with Putin, about which I wrote here. I am an expert on Russia. In fact, it is how you introduced me: "Previously, she was a Moscow-based correspondent for Foreign Policy and The New Yorker." I'm not going to toot my own horn here, but I was there for three years, I'm a fluent, native speaker of Russian, and, god damn it, I know my shit. Which is why I wish you'd let me finish answering your bullshit question, which went like this: "Julia, to start [the White House statement canceling the summit] with the Snowden factor, for the Russian statement to say, 'this is a situation which we did not create,' is of course a lie. They were in complete control of the outcome of what would happen to Snowden from the second he arrived at that airport. But administration, are you surprised that the administration included it in their official statement about the decision?" Okay, no I was not surprised about their decision to include it in the official statement because Snowden was the catalyst for this decision, and it was a good decision because Russia and America have not been getting along and have not been getting anything done for a while now. Like, for a good year and a half. But I decided to contest O'Donnell's premise that Russia had this thing planned and under control from the beginning, and that they did, in fact, create the situation.... Because O'Donnell didn't let me get a word in edgewise after that, let me explain.

Ms. Ioffe then continues to elaborate on 11 excellent points (again - which really don't translate to the quick consumptive nature of TV talk) which can be summarized as (1) Putin is not omnipotent or some grand master of strategy and Russia is hardly the homogenous monolith outsiders expect; (2) The Obama administration screwed up by unsealing charges against Snowden before having him in custody.

My main beef with O'Donnell is not that he wouldn't let me make these 11 points—because, let's face it, that's not what the TV is for—but that he did exactly the same shit Russians did to me when I was in Russia. They assumed that the U.S. and its government was one sleek, well-functioning monolith, that Obama was omnipotent, and that everyone in the world, including other important (and nuclear!) world leaders, act and must act as Russia demands it should, using Russian foreign policy calculus, and with only Russian interests in mind. Sound ridiculous? Believe me, it sounds just as insane in reverse. The problem is that this was not in the ranting comments section, but was coming from the host of a prime time, national television show. And if you don't have the good sense and education or, hell, the reporting experience to know better, then just let the guests you invited on speak. Otherwise, don't waste my fucking evening.

This post sends a thrill of electric pleasure through me. (1) Because I am a complete Russian history/policy nerd; (2) I love a woman who stands up for herself - particularly if it is to set the record straight on an academic point or "attack a premise"; and (3) I really love the word "fuck."

Holy,........, Batman!

In a matter of weeks I will turn 30. Holy crap. Surely, I should have a bit more to show for my three decades than an extensive pinboard and an underused graduate degree... Holy crap - need to somehow accomplish life goals/general fullfillment in the next 20 odd days.

Tax Debate: the difference between being an asshole and a major asshole

While doing the usual rounds of daily news reading (mostly British - reading American news websites just depresses/angers me) I cam across this op-ed: "Obama's Bush Tax Cut Proposal Hits Republican Roadblock" which made me laugh. It is an example of much ado about not much at all. Don't get me wrong - I am entirely in favor of 'rolling back' the Bush blanket tax cuts and for a more progressive tax structure (I think it is important not only in regards to fiscal policy but for the "soul," stability and civic cohesion of the nation)but this op-ed was an excellent example of how sometimes there is not all that great a difference between the apples and oranges. For example: Economists who take the reducing-income-inequality part of taxation policy seriously see the debate over whether we should have Bush-era or Clinton-era tax as arguing the difference over a 10% versus 5% tip: just the gap between being an asshole and major asshole. They say that for a meaningful shift in income distribution – right now, the US has an income inequality index that's about the same as Rwanda's – debate should be framed as a choice between the tax rates for the wealthy during Reagan (50%) versus Nixon (70% – the goddamn hippie!). Ah! That put my sanctimonious self back in line!

An Intellectual Coup: Washington Post OpEd on Supreme Court Hearings on the Health Reform Act

Last week's marathon hearings at the Supreme Court in re: the Health Reform Act hurt my head (from slamming it against driving wheel while at stoplights)...and heart.
There's a lot to be said on this topic - just a few points:

(1) While I respect the importance of settling this matter (and thus the undesirability of leaving it floating around until 2014) I don't understand why the government didn't frame the penalty fee for failing to purchase insurance as a tax. Given the supposed concern that this 'novel' approach "fundamentally changes the relationship between the individual and the state" [six, Justice A. Kennedy] it would seem to be a more prudent approach to align it with an accepted exercise of power. I'm sure there is an excellent (and probably very simple) reason for this - I just don't know it. If you have any insights, please share!


(2) Yes, Justice Scalia, I do expect you to read all 2,700 pages of the act. It's your job.

(3) To return to Justice Kennedy's concern about how this positive obligation (requiring a specific action instead of mere prohibition) "fundamentally changes the relationship between the individual and the State" (can you tell that I am a little hung up on this assertion?) - I really don't think that is accurate. The State - or other historic governing authorities - is rooted in 'positive' (again not a judgment call but a classification!) coercion. Villiens were required to submit a certain number of days labor to their lords, vassals to provide military service. Etc. Etc. The objective for all of this being communal security. Sacking and pillaging by men in longboats or neighboring war-lords is (fortunately) no longer a foremost concern in our society. But that doesn't mean that the State cannot mobilize to address what are the security concerns of its citizens. And today those shared concerns include the assured access to quality health care.

So, it seems disingenous to me for certain Justices to take issue with the means employed - when their real beef surely must be with the stated (proper) legislative objective. And that is troubling, at least to me, because it seems to be a usurpation of Congress's legislative powers and a subversion of governing judicial precedent.

I've rambled on - but this post was really only intended to share a link to an interesting Washington Post Op-Ed piece by E.J.Dionne, Jr., examining the pervasive and subtle influence of radical tea-party dogma into the conservative intellectual dialogue.

Oy. It's pretty bad when the Washington Post Op-Ed section calls Shenanigans...



"The success or failure of any government in the final analysis must be measured by the well-being of its citizens. Nothing can be more important to a state than its public health; the state’s paramount concerns should be the health of its people." - Franklin D. Roosevelt, Address to the New York State Legislature

Desperately seeking.....something

Serenity
These days I find myself (in addition to the usual mantra of "just get to the weekend") repeating the "Serenity Prayer" in my daily life, asking for the ability to accept the things I can't change, the gumption to change the things I can and the wisdom....something something.

There seems to be an awful lot these days that falls in the first category: things I cannot change. Working in the public sector offers many examples...

But perhaps I am too quick accept such things as immutable, immovable. Surely, I am too young to be wise; this is my time for tilting at windmills.

So, no more serenity and the security of supposing oneself wiser - I need change.

Thoughts on Threshing and Sowing

For the past several years there has been a point of contention (and, I will admit, on my part some deliberate prodding/provoking) between my mother and me: Catholicism. I expect that now it can no longer be a point of disagreement and debate but rather a painful line of division.

Salinger once wrote "Catholics are always trying to find out if you are Catholic." I have to give him props for that observation. To be Catholic is, as my father explained, like being Jewish: It is not a question of practicing but of cultural definition. We are Catholic because we have been called so - excluded and oppressed since "The Flight of the Earls," through the Troubles - (and key to the success of Tammany Hall). To abandon that identity - a sacrliege, not because of any question of Transubstantiation v. Consubstantiation, election or good works, but because it is a denial of self-history: what went before you, what made you. Understood thus it is an act of self-mutilation.

But there are times you have to pass the scalpel.

Now, if I was a Protestant (and thus better versed in Scripture over Saints) I would quote something about Threshing and Sowing or plucking out thy left eye if it offend thee.

Well, I am offended. And the Church's defensive and aggressive response to its malfeasance concerning the abuse of its most vulnerable members is the last straw. Last week a letter from then Cardinal Ratzinger resisting the explusion of a priest repeatedly accused of molesting children in his charge surfaced. In this letter the Cardinal, in elegant Latin while acknowledging the "grave significance" of the charges filed, asserts that it is "necessary to consider the good of the Universal Church together with that of the petitioner, and it is also unable to make light of the detriment that [such action]...can provoke." He closes his letter referencing once again "the common good" which must always be in mind.

This is where his future Holiness was wrong: it is not a question of cost or benefit analysis. Christianity is not a formula, or, despite Jesus's ability to make a little bit go a long way, a multiplying of loaves and fishes - the greatest good for the greatest number. Christianity is a practice of faith. Faith that what we do matters - that there is a right and a wrong - and that we always have a decision between the two.

The Church's focus on caution in confronting controversy and the pre-emminence of the preservation of the "common good" over the protection of the least of that common's members may be many things: reasoned, calculated, cautious, but I cannot think it Christian.

Sanity Check

For the most part I'm really enjoying grown-up lawyerly employment. This week I had my first hearing (I think it went well. The clerk gave me a thumbs up at its close). Thanks to NPR the commute isn't too bad. And there's that warm fuzzy feeling that the security of state employment gives you.

So, yes, I like the daily grind. I feel justified in gulping down the espresso in the morning (equal parts coffee to sugar)and I rather like the power suits and skirts.

Aside from the power suits and heels though, part of being an adult is accepting responsibility for one's actions. I want to take the opportunity to do that here...
I am a celebrity gossip addict.
I'll give you a moment to digest that.
Having joined the world of cubicles and accordian case folders I have slowly but surely gotten addicted to more than caffeine (see above esspresso recipe). My morning in the office starts with a read through of the various gossip blogs (The Hollywood Gossip, E! online, TMZ...)Aside from the tic of just having to check to see the lated I have also noticed that it has started to affect me. Namely, I have started to really feel depressed about the state of the world and the average sanity quotient/stability of its inhabitents.

So now I spend my day reviewing (primarily) cases concerning the provision of mental health services for Medicaid recipients in Our Great State - interupted with the odd break to catch up on the latest news on Tila Tequila's tweets, Tiger Woods rehabilitation (and expectations of recidivism), and recent leaks of racy photos of various Bachelor contestants. At the end of the day (or perhaps more accurate estimation would be 11:00 am?) I have serious reservations re: the contination of the human race and reason.

I need help.

There, first step, recognizing that I have a problem and seeking assistance in its redress.

Step two: having faith that the world isn't as f*#king crazy as reported, latest in.

America, Inc. (or, Money Talks)

NPR featured an extraordinary investigative report this evening that I had to share with you: "Bail Burden Keeps U.S. Jails Stuffed with Inmates." - an example of public policy where no one wins other than the private bail bondsmen market and the public officials recieving their financial and political support...

Another winner today: corporate America. In 5-4 decision the Supreme Court overturned existing limitations on corporate spending during elections: an example of the legal fiction of a corporation as a "person" gone too far.

Lessons I'm taking from today? I'll refer back to the old masters: Sunlight is the best disenfectant and, obscenity (whether it is public corruption or pornography) - you know it when you see it.

"Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman." - Justice L. Brandeis, Other People's Money, 1933


Let's shine a bit more light - from our prisons to our power players.

In further news on Resolutions...

I am mentally filing my gym membership fees as charitable donations to my local YMCA. It has been a long time since I have been on the eliptical.

Suffering Sugar Shock

Ugh, the sychranine sweetness and gooey sentimentalism of my last post makes me feel a little nauseus in re-reading - or that could be the cherry pie I had for breakfast. Whatever, New Years Resolution the first: cut down on the glucose, in both the daily bread and prose writing.
More resolutions (unlikely to ever be resolved!) to follow.

Out with the Old, In with the New

December 31st is, necessarily, a time for reflection. Back in May, following denial of medical waiver for the JAG Corps, many people comforted me with saying that it was "all of the best." Or, more specifically, that I would one day look back and be grateful for this disappointment. I didn't expect that gratitude to be realized quite so soon, though. This is not to say that I am where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Not at all - that is all very much still a 'work in progress,' but I do feel excited, at least for today, by the possibilities.

2009, it's been a good year. One of the things that has made it so has been knowing M. That never would have happened without the JAG corps - so, however that goes I am grateful for that!

I suppose the purpose of this entry is just as an expression of gratitude. 2009 has been difficult, anxiety-ridden and insecure in many ways. But when I look back on it what I remember are the acts of courage and faith by the ones I love and a large handful of perfect moments with one I grew to love. I can't complain!

So, thanks 2009 and welcome 2010!

- Anna

Return

Last month I received two wonderful (and wonderfully unexpected) compliments from two friends I hadn’t seen in a long time: both followed my blog. By which I mean that they follow it whenever there is anything to follow.
It was exhilarating to hear that someone read and enjoyed my words – it is also a little intimidating. I’ve been intimidated (think Sophia sizing herself up to Jayne as in the above picture) and thus foregone posting on several important topics: (1) profound reflections on the first world war and human nature and (2) assessment of the best breasts in Hollywood history (I would call the award “The C-Cups”!).

But I am back! Despite the provocative post on the C-Cups you haven't missed much. I've been conducting document review for a local law firm (which I really like, the firm, not the doc review) and volunteering at the state's Attorney General's office. Things continue to go well with M. ("the Man"). Shortly after my last post he came to visit. Three months and several phone bills later I am set to return the favor: last week I got a ticket to Florence - birthplace of soccer and home to acclaimed sculptures of nude biblical figures.

I am, of course, excited. My work can be done remotely so I can stay longer (20 days, grudgingly returning for Thanksgiving and family harmony). I am also a little nervous, but mostly impatient. I leave in exactly a week and this week is interminnable; patience is not my virtue. In fact, I can't think about it too much (see theory of the watched pot, black holes and the space/time continuum) - so for last few days have tried to distract myself with investigating a few C cups of my own. Which leads me to my next question: for a society that uses sex to sell everything from toaster ovens to baby shampoo, why is there such a gap in the sex/lingerie market and why doesn't Nordstrom carry garter belts?

Pazzo, Cazzo and just screwed

I am not romantic - I don't trust such impulses. I seek rationality and the pretense of permanence and control. Therefore, I don't know how to introduce this topic, I'll just say I am screwed.

The backstory: Back in February I took an alumni lecture series on beginner's Italian. The idea being self-improvement and maybe the chance to improve my chances of an assignment to Italy/Europe when entering the JAG corps in July (I was denied the waiver by the way, but more on that later...). The class was composed of me, 7 other alumni over the age where power of attorney is a practical concern, and the instructor, M., an attractive doctoral student at the university. Call it circumstance (I had to look good compared to the over 60s, no?) call it fate (I did have a premonition that this was going to be trouble when I first entered the class) about a month after classes ended the instructor and I started dating. Stated thus it sounds so orchestrated and cold (student dating teacher) - but (as everyone says) it wasn't like that. He was sweet, attentive and assuring and I was (as I usually am) alternatively awkward and forward. He left in May. We talked of my visiting him in Italy (he is taking a year off to write his thesis in Italy before returning to complete doctorate the following year). Things got crazy with JAG and the denial of the waiver process. When the debris cleared from that disappointment I said "what the hell" and bought a ticket to Italy.

I returned last night (this morning?). And am now sprawled in pjs on the couch listening to love songs and eating home-made frosting - something I haven't really done since I was 14 and in love every other weekend (the sentimental love songs bit, not the frosting, that is a pretty regular occurence, actually!).** I am tired and dazed and I count this as a good thing - my feelings are thus a little muted and removed.

To explain: Our issue here is that I am not "done" yet. That I need to set myself up first before I lean on anyone (else!- I know I have a lot of buttresses in all of you!). I am painfully aware that my hesitancy may be an awful mistake. And I know that the uncertainty created by this period of transition creates pain for him as well. All this and missing him leads me to the following...


I came across one song (this all initially started as an innocent, proactive effort to update my I-Pod so I could go running and work off the afore-mentioned binging) that I have played over and over and over again. It is by Charles Aznavour: "She." Excepting the fact that this song features a man singing about a woman it really resonates with me. Mostly because this is my first love; as the song intimates, that stays with you and shapes you. Secondly, because, although I am not his first love, it reassures me that he will also carry me with him. There are several lines that are particulary powerful. I am going to be a bore and post them here:

She
May be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
.....
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
......
She may be the love that can and hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I remember till the day I die.


Why this song and not some other (because, believe me, I have listened to a few in my masochistic moping) - because it is wistful, wanting and wise. And it articulates and assures me of my belief that love is never wasted. That even if I fuck this up (as is my wont in any first endeavor in any area) or if it is not meant to last, or even given, perhaps our (as in mankind generally) limitations in our ability to see and understand each other (that love is always based on some measure of illusion) that there it is still love - it is still powerful, purposeful and permanent.



** Note: Not saying I haven't been silly over guys in the interim dozen years - that would be a patent falsehood - just haven't mooned over sentimental serinades.

*** Note: I have included a link to Charles Aznavour's performance of "She" for your edification and entertainment.

The Literary Offenses of Harold S. Pinter

Hello, all! It is Monday - and I am always full of pep and vigour on a Monday (or at least a Monday in my current world where I don't have to earn the daily bread). After a weekend at home with my family I am more than usually inspired to go out and get 'em. This means a return to serious thought and actual action on the "what will I do with the rest of my life" front. To this end I have volunteered legal aid with my local Women's Center and have an interview tomorrow for a research assistant position on an upcoming international law/intellectual property treatise. Oh! And I started taking lessons in Italian. That should make the JAG waiting process that much less gruesome...

Speaking of career calls, last week, after watching Breakfast at Tiffany's for the third time (my sister is on an Audrey Hepburn rush at present) I thought, hmmm, let me take a line from our friend Paul (you'll know him as Fred, baby). Maybe I should try to write. I spent the following afternoon staring blankly at my (even blanker) computer screen and randomly wikipedia-ing. When I decided to try and clean up my inbox I came across some stories I wrote a few years ago. I include one rant below:

...... .......

This is how it is: I’ve never understood the dialogue in short fiction: the language so wistful, bitter, and truncated. The characters never saying what they mean, instead staring off into space, noting a fly on a wall and reflecting about life, or a leaf falling from a tree and thinking about death, and all the while really only concerned about sex. It is all about sex, but no sex that I have ever known - sex like an incomplete poem or an impressionist painting. The artist purposefully removed – because it is not something that you can examine too closely, the more you concentrate on one aspect the more it changes.

That is what irritates me so much about these short stories. The room is cold – it hasn’t been this cold for a while. Autumn is ending. That means that the lovers must part. Why didn’t he just say as much? Pinter’s dialogue is supposed to reflect actual speech and actual speakers. But people don’t talk like that. We don’t say too little – we say too much. We go on and on and on about nothing – and somewhere bobbing to the surface in this endless stream of self-absorbed reflection there are little nuggets of reflection and revelation. Our speech is all expository – and eventually, circuitously, it exposes us. So let us have done with this restraint and vague reflections. “I’ve never had a whore under this roof. Since your mother died.” We don’t speak so purposefully or cleverly.
Then let us say it as it is. The sky is blue. Sometimes the sun, when it sets, is red and violent and the smell of green and new born things is so beautiful it hurts.