Finding the Time to Do Nothing is Harder than You Think

I've spent the last few weeks doing errands I usually do on the weekends when I'm working. Now, all of a sudden I'm doing them (and more) during the week and can't seem to find time the time to sit down and do nothing. And still on weekends, I'm going-going-going. In between errands, I've been writing for a friend's website, and corresponding with colleagues and doing my usual reading and research. This morning, I woke up with a thought: I need a vacation from my vacation. I need time to sit and do nothing. Problem is, I'm not sure I know how to do that. Maybe it's because when my sisters and I were young and made the mistake of telling our mother that we were "bored", she made us sit for hours embroidering pillowcases with our initials. Boy, did we learn our lesson.

What about the next generation? Do they know how to do nothing? Kids today are overscheduled year round. I don't think we taught them how to sit and be comfortable doing nothing. And, since old habits die hard, when my kids tell me they are bored (because they have nothing to do), I threaten them with "don't tell me that or I'll make you embroider pillowcases".

Doing nothing is crucial to brain-cell regeneration. And stress relief. Maybe it's not too late for me to learn.

Radical Election Thought

Yay! We've finally gotten to a point where we have both a woman AND an African American candidate. Bravo! It's about time. But, I am left perplexed about the perspective of some African Americans, sparked by an episode of "The View" I watched a couple weeks ago. Discussion centered on Barak Obama and his choice of an African American wife. (Little discussion on her intelligence and qualities as a good woman). Question was, "If he had married a white woman, would this irk African American women?" Whoopi and the other African American host (don't know her name - don't watch often enough) said yes -the thought being "Why isn't an African American woman good enough for him?"

Now, isn't Mr. Obama half white? Did white women everywhere get offended that he didn't marry one of them? Did they think they weren't good enough? I doubt they even thought about it. If African Americans everywhere want equality, then what makes a half African American -half white person, more of one and less of the other?

I don't get it. Or maybe I do and I'm just blind to it all. I'm of mixed heritage Being part Spanish and part Filipina (which is a lot of Spanish, considering the Philippines was under Spain for 300 years) and I'm more confused about my race, and my children are, as well. One of them had to fill up a school form the other day and asked me, "Mom, what do I check - Hispanic/Latino or Pacific Islander?" I looked at her and said "Gee, I don't know! How about you check both and write 50 percent in each box?" She pushed on and kept at it "Yeah, but what am I!?" I left it at, "You're equal parts and that makes up a whole," I said. If she married a Spaniard, would all the Filipino women rise up in anger? Or vice versa? Is it the one with the persecution complex that gets the louder voice? I brought up my children to be proud Americans, bloodline notwithstanding.

Not daring to define a true "American" today, we in California are probably a little more color blind because we are a true melting pot. At least that's my perspective. But I'd like to believe that the next generation will think differently (or not at all) about racial issues than the prior generation- and hopefully gender issues as well.

This election is an inflection point. I think we should celebrate the progress we've made and work hard to move it forward.

Why the Nickname "Queenie"

Short story #1.
2001. Head to New York to brief some analysts. Two marketing guys and me. Board a plane. Seated together. Arrive at our row. I leave my roll-on suitcase on the ground and look at marketing guy #1 (also a good friend) and don't say anything. But my look says "Will you please pick my heavy bag up and put it in the overhead bin?" His response is "You expect me to pick up your heavy bag and put it in the overhead bin?" I don't reply. I just sit down.

Short story #2.
Arrive at destination. Rent a car. Marketing guy#1 goes to the driver side. Marketing guy #2 gets in the passenger front seat. I stand there, outside his window. Rolls window down and says "You actually expect me to open the door for you?" I just glare. He gets out and opens the door. I get in but I don't close the door. He says "Jesus H Christ! You even expect me to close the #$!@! door!!? Who do you think you are, the princessa?" Marketing guy #1 replies, "No, the Queen."

Short story #3
6 months later. Downtown San Francisco. With same group of guys plus more. Hole in the wall restaurant, apparently good, local, Asian food, only counter seating. Food is served in one plate: chicken, veggies, rice, salad, fruit, sauce-you name it, it's in there. I ask if I can have everything in small, separate plates. Explain I don't like my food touching each other. Chef/owner /tiny Asian grandma looks at me and says "You like dowager empress. No like food touching."

I think I earned the nickname.