these people are governing our country
A U.S. Senate panel advanced a constitutional ban on same-sex marriage on Thursday as the committee chairman shouted ``good riddance'' to a Democrat who walked out of the tense session.
Is this really happening? I cannot even begin to express my intense disappointment and incredulity at reading this NYtimes article . I remember cheering for the Massachussetts legalization of gay marriage, believing that it was a sign that we were slowly stepping towards increased tolerance and equality for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation. But reading this article is the equivalent of seeing that progress dragged into swampy red waters.
I'm not particuarly politically eloquent, but from the basics of human rights--how dare anyone be discriminated or denied rights based on sexual preference? To moralize homosexuality in private belief is one thing; to impress and force this moralization on a nation through government legislation is another. We risk shoving together the Christian church and state as intimate bedfellows, I shall not even begin to wax upon the pitfalls of that.
I'm extremely extremely disappointed. And what kind of childish behavior is this ridiculous Arlen Specter displaying? "Good riddance"? Who elected this prat?
Then again, I tell myself...it takes all kinds to build a nation. Just as it takes some rotten apples to make excellent cider. Just kidding. Couldn't resist that one!
On the lighter side, I learned a serious lesson today that I am in earnest desire to share with you all, dear friends.
Kate's Golden Rule for Studying in French Libraries
Thou shalt not clothe thyself in garments above the knee area, for thy runneth the risk of attracting the unwelcome advances of that amorous race of Frenchmen whilst thy prefereth to put thyself into the virtues of thy books.
And the skirt wasn't even that shortdefinitely below mid-thigh. And I was wearing a very virtuous, long sleeved sweater.
Dialogue (translated from the French original)
Kate, brow furrowed, mind deep among the wheatfields of a formal Italian diplomatic epistle (translated into French, bien sur)
Man next to me (aged about 30-35): That is a rather interesting and difficult segment, isn't it.
K: Um, yes, it is fairly difficult.
M: So, you're studying history?
K (clearly hasn't learned any lessons from previous interactions): Mmhmm, yes, I'm at the Sorbonne.
M (randomly): Are you from China?
K (confused): Well, I'm actually American, I'm an exchange student.
M (persistent): But are you of Chinese origin?
K: I uh..Yes, I was born in China, but I grew up in America.
M: Oh, that's great! I just came back from Japan, I was working there. So where in China are you from?
K (confused again...what does Japan have to do with China? As much as Zimbabwe has to to with the Ivory Cost I suppose): Well actually I don't know if you know the province of Sichuan...
M (eagerly): I've been to Shanghai and Hong Kong, what a wonderful city!
K: Um, yes, well Sichuan is in the southwest.
blahblahblah boring dialogue. I involuntarily reveal I am staying in Paris during the summer. Then the inevitable.
M: Here's my business card, if you have time this summer...
K: Mhm....ok...uh...
I then start reading up on Catherine de Medicis and the Duc de Guise, burrowing my face into the pile of books scented of dust motes and stale air.
Man keeps on glancing over at me, multiple times. At this time, the man across from me starts staring at me. Every time I lift my eyes to type notes onto my laptop, I catch M#2 staring intently at me. Suddenly, I shift my foot slightly to the left, to encounter something solid not previously there. His foot. And he keeps on staring at me. Rather creepy.
I'm almost uncomfortable enough to leave the library.
When I do leave, I am approached suddenly by Man#3
(Also translated from the French original)
M#3: Are you an art history student?
K (surprised and disconcerted by sudden approach): Um, no, actually? Uh?
M#3: Is that such a surprising question?
K: I suppose so...
M#3: So, what do you study?
K: History, actually.
M#3: So are you from Paris?
K: Actually, I'm American. So no.
M#3: Oh wow, what a surprise! I thought you were Parisian. You speak French very well!
K: Thank you. I've been studying it since high school.
M#3: So how do you like France? More than the United States?
K: I like France very much. I wouldn't say more than the US--each country has its different unique aspects.
M#3 (persistent): But you see, France has so much culture and history, with the kings and all that, while the US is very modern.
K: Well I suppose if you put it that way.
blahblahblah, M#3 asks questions, I answer in a boring and dry tone.
M#3: Will you be sad to leave Paris?
K (feeling genuine pang of sadness...): Of course I will be. I love Paris. I love France.
M#3 (taking advantage of my nostalgic emotional weakness): So where are you going? Let me walk you.
K (snapping out of my sappy reverie): Actually, I'm late for a meeting with a friend. Have to go, bye.
(Dialogue above copyright of Kate Wang, 2006)
French men never stop, not even at the library.
And then an international aid organization recruiter at Odeon asked me out to coffee 15 minutes later. He was very nice though, and I felt rather bad at turning him down, but I've given up the hope of trying to be friends with every French boy that I can carry a conversation with. Apparently, it doesn't always work. Parallel vectors of expectations that don't merge.
Sometimes, I ask myself, why not just go for it? What's the harm? Goodness knows I could use with being more spontaneous.
Why not?
Indeed.
Because.
``If you want to leave, good riddance,'' The Senate Judiciary Chairman, Republican Arlen Specter, told Wisconsin Democratic Sen. Russell Feingold, who refused to participate because, he said, the meeting was not sufficiently open to the public.
Is this really happening? I cannot even begin to express my intense disappointment and incredulity at reading this NYtimes article . I remember cheering for the Massachussetts legalization of gay marriage, believing that it was a sign that we were slowly stepping towards increased tolerance and equality for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation. But reading this article is the equivalent of seeing that progress dragged into swampy red waters.
I'm not particuarly politically eloquent, but from the basics of human rights--how dare anyone be discriminated or denied rights based on sexual preference? To moralize homosexuality in private belief is one thing; to impress and force this moralization on a nation through government legislation is another. We risk shoving together the Christian church and state as intimate bedfellows, I shall not even begin to wax upon the pitfalls of that.
I'm extremely extremely disappointed. And what kind of childish behavior is this ridiculous Arlen Specter displaying? "Good riddance"? Who elected this prat?
Then again, I tell myself...it takes all kinds to build a nation. Just as it takes some rotten apples to make excellent cider. Just kidding. Couldn't resist that one!
On the lighter side, I learned a serious lesson today that I am in earnest desire to share with you all, dear friends.
Kate's Golden Rule for Studying in French Libraries
Thou shalt not clothe thyself in garments above the knee area, for thy runneth the risk of attracting the unwelcome advances of that amorous race of Frenchmen whilst thy prefereth to put thyself into the virtues of thy books.
And the skirt wasn't even that shortdefinitely below mid-thigh. And I was wearing a very virtuous, long sleeved sweater.
Dialogue (translated from the French original)
Kate, brow furrowed, mind deep among the wheatfields of a formal Italian diplomatic epistle (translated into French, bien sur)
Man next to me (aged about 30-35): That is a rather interesting and difficult segment, isn't it.
K: Um, yes, it is fairly difficult.
M: So, you're studying history?
K (clearly hasn't learned any lessons from previous interactions): Mmhmm, yes, I'm at the Sorbonne.
M (randomly): Are you from China?
K (confused): Well, I'm actually American, I'm an exchange student.
M (persistent): But are you of Chinese origin?
K: I uh..Yes, I was born in China, but I grew up in America.
M: Oh, that's great! I just came back from Japan, I was working there. So where in China are you from?
K (confused again...what does Japan have to do with China? As much as Zimbabwe has to to with the Ivory Cost I suppose): Well actually I don't know if you know the province of Sichuan...
M (eagerly): I've been to Shanghai and Hong Kong, what a wonderful city!
K: Um, yes, well Sichuan is in the southwest.
blahblahblah boring dialogue. I involuntarily reveal I am staying in Paris during the summer. Then the inevitable.
M: Here's my business card, if you have time this summer...
K: Mhm....ok...uh...
I then start reading up on Catherine de Medicis and the Duc de Guise, burrowing my face into the pile of books scented of dust motes and stale air.
Man keeps on glancing over at me, multiple times. At this time, the man across from me starts staring at me. Every time I lift my eyes to type notes onto my laptop, I catch M#2 staring intently at me. Suddenly, I shift my foot slightly to the left, to encounter something solid not previously there. His foot. And he keeps on staring at me. Rather creepy.
I'm almost uncomfortable enough to leave the library.
When I do leave, I am approached suddenly by Man#3
(Also translated from the French original)
M#3: Are you an art history student?
K (surprised and disconcerted by sudden approach): Um, no, actually? Uh?
M#3: Is that such a surprising question?
K: I suppose so...
M#3: So, what do you study?
K: History, actually.
M#3: So are you from Paris?
K: Actually, I'm American. So no.
M#3: Oh wow, what a surprise! I thought you were Parisian. You speak French very well!
K: Thank you. I've been studying it since high school.
M#3: So how do you like France? More than the United States?
K: I like France very much. I wouldn't say more than the US--each country has its different unique aspects.
M#3 (persistent): But you see, France has so much culture and history, with the kings and all that, while the US is very modern.
K: Well I suppose if you put it that way.
blahblahblah, M#3 asks questions, I answer in a boring and dry tone.
M#3: Will you be sad to leave Paris?
K (feeling genuine pang of sadness...): Of course I will be. I love Paris. I love France.
M#3 (taking advantage of my nostalgic emotional weakness): So where are you going? Let me walk you.
K (snapping out of my sappy reverie): Actually, I'm late for a meeting with a friend. Have to go, bye.
(Dialogue above copyright of Kate Wang, 2006)
French men never stop, not even at the library.
And then an international aid organization recruiter at Odeon asked me out to coffee 15 minutes later. He was very nice though, and I felt rather bad at turning him down, but I've given up the hope of trying to be friends with every French boy that I can carry a conversation with. Apparently, it doesn't always work. Parallel vectors of expectations that don't merge.
Sometimes, I ask myself, why not just go for it? What's the harm? Goodness knows I could use with being more spontaneous.
Why not?
Indeed.
Because.
posted by Kate | 1:31 PM
|
1 comments
