babies. world health. darwin.

stats: 2 million babies a year die within 24 hours of birth worldwide. 2 million babies die a year within its first month worldwide.

99% (3.96 mil) of all newborn deaths are in developing contries leaving 40,000 to the developed world. the United States ranks 2nd lowest in newborn mortality rate (5 deaths/1,000 births); tied with Hungary, Poland, Malta, and Slovakia.

Melinda Gates says, "All children, no matter where they are born, deserve a healthy start in life."
could you imagine the impact 4 million more healthy babies would have on the world, global economy, Earth? this is where my survival of the fittest philosophy kicks in. if the newborn is not healthy enough to surive its first month, the newborn wasn't meant to be a part of this Earth. sorry. try again later. (as much as i revel in science and technology, my darwinian philosophy sometimes applies to medical advancement and technology as well.)

the report highlights three most influencial areas on newborn health. female education because educated women are more likely to seek health care. use of family planning and contraception. presence of trained birth attendants in case of complications.

let's just think about the situation the United States, the richest country on this planet, is in: second to last place. presence of trained birth attendants: check. education: mmm, considering the U.S. is a "First World" country its citizens could be more educated about prenatal health. family planning/contraception: Mr. Bush's idea of family planning is to just say no, so I would say we aren't doing too well in this category either. i suspect that our society's reluctance to talk about sex and its consequences has a large effect on our performance in newborn and sexual health. what it all comes down to is that pregnant women (and everyone else) need easier access to health care and health education in this country.

i really hope no one is looking to the U.S. to be the guiding light in this area.

We Are America

briefly thinking over this immigration issue, i'm not quite sure where i stand. i don't pretend to have more than a surface level understanding of the issues or legislations at hand. i do find the idea of singing our national anthem in Spanish inappropriate though. if the idea is to convince the "legal" American public that immigrants are woven into the 'fabric of America' then sing the damn song in English. wouldn't singing in English be so much more symbolic considering most Americans don't know how the entire song goes? besides, not ALL illegal immigrants speak Spanish. you could say, "but Tracy, English isn't even the United States' official language. in fact, the US doesn't have an official language." well, screw that, English is, at the very least, the common language in this country. one that we can all unite under...aw...

the Korean restaurant i work at serves the most authentic Korean food i've found in Chicago, other than way up in koreatown. the current owner, Jun, is also the current chef. unfortunately, it's changing owners; meaning Jun will no longer be chef. we have one kitchen hand, Hector. i walked into the kitchen today and stopped to listen to Jun and Hector talk. they were conversing in a crazy mix of Korean and Spanish and seemed to clearly communicate. Jun learned to cook, make kim chi, and mix sauces all from his mother. And now, Jun is bestowing his Korean cooking knowledge onto Hector in an effort to make sure Hector can keep his job when the new owners come in. and there it is. evidence that illegal immigrants ARE America.

follow me in my thought process. a part of a society's culture is its food. America's food comprises of international influences and foods representing all of the different types of people in it. if you look into the kitchen of America's restaurants, you'll likely find an illegal immigrant, who is most likely Latin American, at the stove. these immigrants learn to cook all of the different types of food served, Chinese, Italian, American, Californian, Korean, Japanese, German, Moroccan, etc. let's take Marina Foods (an Asian grocery store with a restaurant and bakery) on Stevens Creek as an example. the kitchen help are mostly Latino. you can watch them make chow mein, sui mai, noodle soups, dumplings, bbq pork buns, and an assortment of buns that i haven't an inkling of how to make. they even speak enough Mandarin to identify the foods. in the long run, the people that know how to make all of these wonderfully tasting foods are the illegal immigrants!
illegal immigrants make America's food.
food make cultural identity.
illegal immigrants make America's cultural identity!
They ARE America!!
...
of course, this begs the larger question of how to define one's culture or identity. but that's a big fish that i'm not rightly equipped to wrestle. what are cultural identifiers? food? ritual? dance? language? if one learns to make Chinese food, is one now Chinese? if one learns to hula, is one Hawaiian? if one can write in hieroglyphics, is one Egyptian?

glub glub

The world’s largest aquarium opened in Atlanta, Georgia in November 2005. The Ocean Voyager exhibit holds six million gallons of salt water and 100,000 fish; two of which are whale sharks, currently 20ft long and expected to grow to 40+ft! Fantastic! I want to go, sit down, and pretend I’m a rock at the bottom of the ocean. I’ll watch as the fish, sharks, stingrays, and whatever else swims about me. I will be a part of the ocean! First thing I do when I get settled back in Chicago, learn to scuba dive.

Sarah Tucker

I watched my first scary movie, It, at Sarah Tucker’s house. She had a slumber party for her birthday. Us girls all piled into her living room in our sleeping bags. We screamed in unison then laughed the silliness of it all. I spent every lunch with Sarah Tucker during middle school. We sat by a bush that always attracted bees during the summer. Sarah Tucker wore Hypercolor shirts and Converse shoes. I remember her being very creative and unique. She was even a little odd, but that’s what made her Sarah and why I liked her. In high school she expressed herself in extraordinary dress and personality. Sarah was voted Most Unique at the end of our senior year. We went our separate ways in high school, but I always wished we’d stayed friends.

Sarah Tucker was killed in a hit and run accident a few weeks ago. The news was crushing. The last time I saw her was sometime in high school, some eight plus years ago. The last time I talked to her was at the start of high school, some twelve years ago. People are constantly coming in and out of our lives. We just assume those that leave us go on living normal lives; just as we are. They’re accomplishing their goals, exploring new places, and finding love. I feel so sad that the world lost Sarah’s unique charm and energy. I feel guilty for not thinking of her more than a handful of times in the last eight years, for not keeping in touch with her throughout and after high school. I feel pain at the loss of Sarah’s potential life and contributions. I feel angry that she was lost in such meaningless and awful manner.

Frank reminded me that just because I didn’t think of Sarah often, it doesn’t mean that I didn’t care about her. Unexpectedly, it is comforting to know that my memory of Sarah is still rather vivid. She will live forever in my memory. Sarah Tucker’s death makes me want to reach out to all of those who have entered my life and then left. There are those who have touched my life and left lasting impressions. There are even those that I know will part from my life. No matter how fleeting, I do care about them. I do think of them. I just wish there was a way for me to let them know that I miss them.

I remember you - Megan Toeniskoetter, Kylee Vicha, Rebecca Beddingfield, Julia O’Conner, Joel Kaupert, Luis Rosas, Kyle Smith, Chris Smith, Jim, Winston, Tammy Lee, Hank, Kimberly Banks, Jennifer Chen.

humpty dance

tonight was the end of the chevrolet grand prix snowboarding competition. the week long competition culminated in a quarter pipe exhibition by the world's ballsiest snowboarders. the quarter pipe was constructed in a parking lot right in town. thirty feet tall, it was a mammoth ramp that was mostly vertical. these kids got towed, a la water skiing, by a snowmobile at jet setting speeds in order to launch themselves onto the pipe. not only were they catching HUGE air (20ft past the lip equals 50ft from the ground!), they were doing crazy flips and spins too! my heart skipped a few beats everytime.

with that done, it was time for an after pipe show. a performance by digital underground of humpty dance fame. they performed their classics and a few new songs. then money b points at my friend and i to come on stage! plus another 20 girls, but we were first, pth! ;) i danced to freaks of the industry on stage with digital underground! awesome! yay for small towns and snow!

"not all who wander are lost"

-J.R.R. Tolkien-

in less than two months, i'll be wandering again. this time i head to the slopes. breckenridge, colorado. a move prompted by feelings of stagnation here in chicago. i came across this quote while reading my latest issue of the The Week (a great mag for those with little time to read news). it of course triggered self-reflection. do i wander because i'm lost?

wandering about in all senses of the word, physically, emotionally, metaphorically, affords a certain amount of protection. there is never finality to a decision made. a mind can always change. no need to decide where to hang a picture. just have to take it down in a few months. so the walls are bare. can't make a wrong decision while living the life of a nomad. turn back. call for a mulligan. do it over, just some place else. a person always on the move can make an easy excuse for not getting close to others. 'what's the point of becoming attached? i'm moving away eventually and it'll hurt less if i stay aloof.' it's always easier to deal with things on the short term.

do i wander because i'm lost? probably. it's the journey, not the destination. lost or not, this is my journey.

invisible ties

"For a brief instant they met in another dimension, defenseless, naked in body and mind...he had never lost control in that way, lost irony, distance, the notion of his own inviolable individuality to fuse so simply with another human being." -excerpted from Portraits in Sepia by Isabella Allende

i don't know what it is that keeps you so far.

did you like the chocolate? the orchids are beautiful.

it's official, i'm an illinoisian

chicagoan sounds better.

time from walking into the IL dmv to having a driver license in hand: 1 hour 30 minutes.
time it's taken CA dmv to mail my driving record to me: 30 days and still counting!

almost two months ago, my wallet was lost and i needed a new license. since i wasn't going back to california for awhile, i decided i'd go ahead and get my illinois license. well, they need a copy of my driving record from california, else i had to take the road test. i call up a number in sacramento, surprisingly a guy actually picked up the phone. guy says, "you have to mail in a form with a check for $5. you're looking at mid-september, and no there is no other way," with a bit of dismay in his voice. uhm hello? didn't i just call california? can't you just email it to me in pdf format? my friend from portland called OR dmv. it was faxed to her in 3 days, free of charge.
i called them yesterday to check the status of my request. the lady on the other end said with the same tone of dismay and frustration, "the chances of you getting your record are zero to none. i'm one of the people who process these. i'm working on 8/26, yours came in 8/29." uhm? hello? didn't i just call california? the red tape and bureacracy is so ridiculous the employees aren't even trying to fake it anymore. maybe i should write a letter the the secretary of state in california.

"Grown men were crying."

A quote from a passenger on Flight 292 while describing the reactions of her fellow passengers. Is it that surprising that a man would cry in the face of death? He hasn't accomplished all of the things he's wanted to yet. He probably didn't say goodbye to his wife or kids. Forgot to call his mom on her birthday. Not to mention that the passengers watched live broadcasts about their ill-fated flight.

Is it so incredible that a man would cry period? I admire a man who can express emotion whether it be happy or sad. In fact, I value any person that has emotion and is not afraid to express them. Of course, there are extremes. I don't expect men to be blubbering at the slightest pang of emotion. I don't care for anyone who is too sensitive. Men, all humans, are emotional yet rational beings. And I expect all humans to conduct themselves as such. Denying and ignoring your feelings can only lead to misunderstanding and communication error. Relationships of all kinds (personal, political, foreign affairs) would benefit if people would just stop being too proud to express what they really feel.

1:04:40

2,838th of 5,003 total runners.
1,271st of 2,770 female runners.
528th of 1,045 ages 24-28.
Age - Graded place: 2,474th.

Didn't make it in under and hour; I finished 8 seconds faster than the last 10k. I'm still proud. I ran for nearly the whole course. Exception came when there was a bottleneck of runners. So, maybe without that I would have made in in under and hour. It was crazy to see a mass of yellow shirted athletes gathered in one place and then running on Wacker Drive near Michigan Avenue. I ran with Dave. He was ready for a leisurely run and just wanted to finish. I remembered about 1.5 miles in, that I had declared that my goal was to finish in under an hour. So, I ran harder. I pushed myself hard. Picked up speed and kept passing people up. Surprised myself. My feet didn't start whining until about mile 5. Dave trailed behind me through the entire race until the very end. With 200 yards to go, I sputtered and Dave blew past me. I had run with conviction and determination. I drove myself to the limits of my ability. I made good progress until I saw the finish line. Then, my legs gave in, they slowed, they ached, and just didn't put out enough to keep me on pace through the very last 200 yards.

Oddly, this is a scenario that has played out a few times in my life. I worked relatively hard through high school to get into Berkeley, only to fizz out academically while I was at Cal. I strode headlong into studying public health and working for non-profits, only to graduate without getting a job in either field. I apparently have a problem with finishing strong. Good thing to learn about myself. Hopefully the trait won't linger much longer. Finish Strong.

3-in-1

number 1. my coworker is studying for his qualifying exams to get into nursing school after having been out of school for 10 years. he was working on some simple algebra problems and asked for help. i reminded him of some math properties. then i was stumped. simplify: (3x^3+10x^2-7x+4)/(x+4). yeah, stumped. i remember doing these types of problems. i remember knowing how. i knew i was supposed to factor out (x+4) from (3x...+4). but how?! the answer made complete sense. but how did you get to it? show your work. it is an immensely frustrating feeling to know that i am incapable of simple algebra. i should get some math workbooks.

number 2. i got my first complaint as a server tonight. funny story actually. the restaurant was empty. lady with her beau wants to sit at a certain table. a couple had just left the table with spillage, crumbs, and smeared grease. the person trying to seat them tells them that the table is dirty. we'll sit here. (maybe they didn't hear) the table is dirty ma'am, how about one of the (15 other) clean tables? no, it's fine, we'll sit here. alright, go ahead. the seater walks away with menace in his eyes. witnessing all of this, i go to the table armed with heavy duty restaurant grade cleaner in a spray bottle and a dirty rag. hi folks, this table is dirty, i'll clean it. uhm, let me get up, i feel like i'm being sprayed, says now irritated lady. i have never cleaned a table so deliberately. i wiped under each condiment one by one. i scrubbed her seat with my dirty rag. she sat. i brought them 2 glasses of wine. 20 minutes after they'd left, my manager gets a phone call. i had an asian server tonight and she was quite rude. she sprayed me when she was cleaning the table and didn't apologize. we won't be coming back. the person who had tried so hard to seat them at a clean table was my manager. it took all of his will not to tell the lady to go fuck herself. we all had a great laugh about that.

number 3. tourists and foreigners are horrible tippers. every server dreads the table that is armed with backpacks and maps. the one that doesn't speak english or does so with an accent. you expect around 10%. 15% is absolute minimum. english couple seat themselves at my table. could have been swiss. not much talking. mostly smooching. $25 tab. guy hands me a $50 bill. i bring them small bills for easy tipping. they hand their gratuity to me on their way out. woohoo! a whopping $1.50. i gave the guy singles and one quarter for change. it took effort to tip me just over 5%. he had to work into his tight ass pants to find another quarter. pick up any lonely planet or guide to wherever. tipping customs are described in the frist 5 pages. read, monkeys. restaurant ettiquette should be taught in high school. there is most definitely proper and improper behaviors while dining in a restaurant. when a server asks how are you? do not answer with diet coke. we fake it enough to ask how you are. the least a diner can do is answer the damn question.

i'm an asshole

i was given a chance to set things right. i was given the chance to stop leading him down the wrong path. i didn't do it. i just blushed and tried to wave away his "infatuation". all i had to do was be honest and up front. do i crave attention so much that i don't give away any chance at it? is my desire to please all so great that i give in, give myself? is my ego that starved? is my ego that swollen?

anyway, i was called out. chewed out. i'm an asshole. he called me on it. i felt horrid. a well deserved lashing. thanks james, i needed that.

thrown

bitter, longing, loathing, adoration, cringe, touch, nostalgia, melancholy, fondness, anger, love, sweet. one person evokes clashing words and emotions. pushed so far. shoved away. trying to break me, faith. hate for your pushing. trying to break me, hope. anger. a rock of hope, of you. frustration. pulled in all directions. conviction. i will. i will love. i will love you. you will not break me. you will not break me from you.

legacy

With a fleeting memory, it is hard to focus on specific memories of my grandmother. I have blurry images of her in the kitchen, of my grandparents’ home in Taichung, of her reading or knitting in bed while the grandkids played in her closet. There are vague images that may have originated from old photographs. I remember when she wasn’t frail. I remember when she looked taller, robust, and full of vitality. I suppose it is important to have detailed stories and experiences to tell about a person so close to my life. I don’t have that. I have her essence. My grandmother left a lasting impression. She was a vibrant woman. She was a strong woman. I didn’t have to grow up under her supervision to know it. You could see her strength emanating from the way she instructed Grandpa on how to make onion cakes. She had an opinion on most everything. You could feel her warm presence when she entered. Most of all, you can see proof of her strength in her children. My uncle, my aunts, and my mother are each unique but share the same strength of character and vivacity that my grandmother had. It only takes a brief meeting with my mother to know that she is an extraordinary and commanding personality - full of life, full of youth. My grandmother is responsible for that. She instilled my mother and all of her children with her strength of mind, strength of character, strength of spirit. In them, especially in my mother, I know my grandmother lives on. In me, I know my grandmother will live on.

Brain Ball

Brain Ball is awesome. You win by finding your zen state, by relaxing your mind, by shutting off all unnecessary brain function. I was fortunate enough to try out this game at Wired NextFest over the weekend. To play, each player dons a electrode strap that measures brain activity. Sitting across from each other, a small ball rolls between each player. If the ball reaches your circle, you lose. The more active your brain is, the more you lose. I kicked ass for the first three rounds. My opponent didn't stand a chance. I tuned out all exterior stimuli and was in a total state of relaxation. Then, I got so excited about kicking ass that I lost the next two rounds. The kicker is that as you watch the little ball roll towards you, you become more stressed and anxious.

Other Wired NextFest favorites include Kick Ass Kung Fu, an android, and a holodeck prototype. My dreams of living in the world of Star Trek are coming true!

1:04:48

My official time for my first 10k run (6.2 miles) last Saturday. I surprised myself. I honestly wasn't sure that I could finish it, especially since I did it completely alone. Two friends who had originally said they'd run with me flaked. I'm not a runner. I don't know how to pace myself. But I did it! I ran at a ten minute mile pace. The first two miles were okay, I tried not to let it bother me that most people were way ahead of me. I kept glancing around to see if there were others like me wearing a red bib, bringing up the rear. Mile three had me doubting and considering veering off to the 5k course. I talked to myself. "Don't stop." "Just have to finish, only finish." Mile four hurt. I stopped to speed walk for a little bit. I found a groove in mile five. Mile six passed quickly. At the finish line, I think I could have gone another .2 miles. I'm proud of myself. Next goal is to do this under an hour.

quote, end quote

"Truth exists, only lies are invented." - Georges Braque
"Tenderness is a deeper instinct than seduction,..." - Michel Houellebecq

a little bird told me

i miss my friends. i'm curious what everyone is up to. if i could be a bird, i would fly off to visit every one of my old friends. i would spend a day perched on my friend's shoulder. i'd watch and see what (s)he's up to. it'd be like bring your friend to your life day...except, my friend won't know i'm there. i just want to observe and make sure everyone is doing alright.

and down will come baby, cradle and all

i haven't been sleeping well lately. correction, i haven't been sleeping much lately. it's not that i'm not home early enough to go to bed at a decent time. nor do i have so many pressing things to take care of to keep me busy all night and morning. i'm demented; sometimes, i actually make the choice to stay up when i am tired, exhausted. even after a night out when i get home after 3am, i have been known to stay up an extra hour and a half to dick around online or watch scrubs. i was up watching episode after episode of scrubs (yeah, i'm a little obsessed right now) the other night when it finally dawned on me why i torture myself night after night. i don't like sleeping alone. when i finally give in and curl up in my bed, the pillow between my knees offers little comfort. but, i clutch it anyway. pretending it's a warm body, one with big cozy arms that wrap around me, stroking my hair, soothing me to sleep...

it's 1:20am, my eyes are drooping and my head hurts, i'm still blogging. i have an illness. wait, i don't need anyone. i'm an independent woman now. i should be basking in the freedom of my drama-less, relationship-less life. right? no. i crave companionship. not sex. i just want someone to curl up with. someone that doesn't want sex from me - i can't handle that kind of pressure now. cuddle buddy? is it only a myth? *sigh* i give up...where's my pillow?

did you sneeze?

a day doesn't go by that i don't think of him at least once. lately, i've been thinking about him more often. i must miss him. i do miss him. but what do i miss? he told me while we were sitting on a beach that i made him feel bad about himself. i felt so sorry when i heard that. i've been there too. unworthy. what a silly and irrational thing to feel, but it hurts so much. i'd vowed never to make anyone feel that way. but i did. every day i try to think of ways i can show him that i miss him. but, i'm afraid to interfere with his healing. i want to make a list of reasons why he is a beautiful person, but when i start to...the words don't come. he could make a list for me. it's a warmth, a fire that i can't seem to put into writing. i hope he knows it. i miss my dear friend romie.