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pinkpanzy
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Name: Chaya Tharangini Gender: Female
Interests: Obsessions with Apolo Anton Ohno and Harry Potter, and of course, God, music, friends and family, key club, and apricots. Expertise: obsessing, being the crown princess of english, the beauty queen of everything. = ) ohh and the huh? what? game = D Occupation: Student
Message: message me Website: visit my website
Member Since:
8/29/2003
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| Heady PowerI'm frightened of the amount of power I have over the course my life is going to take right now, and I'm even more frightened that I'm not taking that power seriously. I'm 21 years old, and I still don't feel like a real person. Why is that? Why do I feel like I never quite grew up? | | |
| Life Imitates ArtLast night I went to an outdoor theater with my parents to see the symphony play for free. The outdoor theater is located in a park that is semi-contiguous with the zoo. As we were pulling into the parking lot, we saw a momma and poppa duck crossing the street with ten little tiny baby ducks walking in a straight line behind them. Just like in movies and cartoons! It was singly one of the sweetest things I'd ever seen. Unfortunately, my attempt to photograph this natural wonder was a failure; I ended up photographing the car's steering wheel instead of the cutie ducks. But I wanted to blog about it because it was so precious. It made me really happy. I hope those ducks are safe from cars! | | |
| Writing-Induced ParanoiaI submitted an essay I wrote on arranged versus love marriage to the New York Times's Modern Love column. My piece was entitled "First Comes Marriage, Then Comes Love." In it, I wrote about my (rather unformed, at least in the piece) thoughts on love and an anecdote about my parents' [arranged] marriage, and expressed uncertainty about my own marital and romantic future. About two weeks after I submitted my piece, Modern Love published this piece (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/07/fashion/07love.html?ref=fashion), one in which a published author (he's published one novel and another is currently about to hit the shelves) writes on his arranged marriage and the uncertain future his sons face, since their marriages won't be arranged the way his was. And the piece mentions a little-known South Indian town, just like mine did. And the piece is entitled "First Comes Marriage." When I saw that it was the column for this week, I was rather disappointed, because I figured there was no way the Times would publish my piece right after publishing another piece with the same damn name and the same topic. I was right. I got a rejection letter today--it was personalized, which was nice, and it hinted towards the zillions of submissions they get daily and the fact that I was lucky to get my own rejection letter (well, rejection e-mail). Still, I wonder if it's not just some form letter (e-mail) they send to all the unlucky column rejects.
Anyway, it never occurred to me that maybe the Times had seen my piece, liked the idea, but wanted it to be written by a writer with an actual name, and thus asked Zama to write on the same topic. I was talking to my creative writing professor today, though, and she suggested that unsettling scenario (saying it came from years of writers' paranoia and insecurity). I dismissed her idea after our phone conversation, but when I got the rejection email (which I saw after I had hung up the phone with her), I began to suspect that maybe there was a kernel of truth in what she said. Because the rejection e-mail took care to say that they get lots of "unsolicited submissions" and that they get most of their essays from their unsolicited submissions--or did they mean most of their essays' ideas?! The more I think of it, the more I work myself up into a righteous and/or indignant fury and/or resignation that they thought my idea was good but thought some other guy could write a better piece on it.
For the record--I think my piece was better. But I admit that his piece is probably more along the lines of what the column normally prints/looks for. Anyway, "First Comes Marriage, Then Comes Love" came before "First Comes Marriage," if anyone ever asks you. New goal: one day be published in the Times, preferably in the Modern Love column. | | |
| Plenty of SufferingWhen I read things like this (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8050939.stm) I'm reminded how petty my troubles are. Take a read. | | |
| Awkward Moments in DentistryWent to the dentist today to get a minuscule cavity filled. I didn't even need anesthesia because they didn't have to drill deep at all. Figured I'd avoid the pain of getting a shot if at all possible. Before the dentist began the procedure, the hygienist took my blood pressure..and it came up 70/60. No joke. She was like "let me do this again, because this has to be a mistake. Did you eat breakfast today?" Errr...yes, I had eaten breakfast. Oatmeal, to be precise. My blood pressure is normally low-ish but my systolic (I think that's the first number?) is never any lower than 90. She took the pressure again and it came up as 89/63, which wasn't much better. She brought another hygienist in to see what the heck could be going on, and she was just like, well, she has a thin frame. It's possible that's her blood pressure. Oh wells. So...oh wells. It was all very..strange. Then, somewhere in the middle of the drilling, the dentist pulls all his tools out of my mouth and asks, "So, what do you think of all those universal healthcare plans? Should everyone be covered?" Why my dentist wants the opinion of his 21-year-old patient I don't know. I said yes, I think everyone should be covered. "Well," he said, "Answer me this. Is healthcare a right?" Why yes, I said, it is. "So then, does everyone also have a right to have a new car?" Well, no, I said, giggling. "Well, but I'm serious, because I differ from you, and I want to know where you're coming from. What makes healthcare a right but a new car not one?" Maybe it's just me, but I thought the difference was rather obvious: Health is a necessity. Transportation in a brand new car not so much. Anyway, I told him that since the pursuit of happiness is an American inalienable right, and one needs one's health to pursue happiness, I believed that healthcare was a right of all Americans. He then went on to ask, well what about people who do damage to their bodies? Should overweight smokers be part of a national plan? Don't you think it's unfair to make other people or the government pay for their healthcare? Hello, dentist! It spreads the risk more evenly if you cover everyone, and if our healthcare system gets the overhaul it needs, we'll have better education and preventive care to convince Joe Sixpack (to borrow dear Sarah Palin's term) to put down that cigarette and go take a run. After this nonsense question, he was talking about a "talkradio show" he listens to (probably something hosted by Rush Limbaugh (BARF) or Sean Hannity (BABYBARF)) where a guy goes out and interviews average people on the street about their thoughts on healthcare: interviewer dude: should everyone have healthcare? grossly liberal dude on the street: yeah ID: should everyone get a new car? GLDOTS: yeah ID: well, who's going to pay for that? GLDOTS: the government is. ID: where does the government get that money? GLDOTS: the government has its own money
At this point, the hygienist is chuckling along with the dentist (I wonder how closely her political views align with his or if she was just chuckling along in an effort to please her boss) and I'm laughing too, but only nervously. I wished he would keep drilling and get on with it so I could leave. I've never disliked my dentist. Sure, he's weird and makes jokes when you can't laugh anyway because his hands are in your mouth like all other dentists, but he never seemed like a jerk--or unprofessional. And if you ask me, it was pretty damn unprofessional to put me on the spot that way about my political views. I wonder if he asks that question of all his patients, or if he just chose me to be his special victim for some inexplicable reason. For the record: universal healthcare is a must. I don't think my country should have the preventable deaths of the poor on its national conscience. I know I don't want that on my conscience. Once he finally did get on with his work, he didn't quite drop the subject. As he's shoving those damn cotton cylinders in my mouth in an effort to keep it dry while he worked (in response to which my glands just produce more and more saliva--they're supposed to keep my mouth hydrated, after all!), he was like "I think Barack Obama is a good man [I don't doubt the dentist's sincerity in this statement]. I want him to do a good job. But I sure am glad I don't have his job. I mean, you have half the country against you at all times when you're president [if he was referring to the split of party lines, he was wrong: I heard yesterday on NPR that only 1 in every 5 people in this country now consider themselves Republicans..], and then the people who elected you hate you if you don't do everything you promised. I would never get a job where everyone hated me--oh wait, I became a dentist!" (cue hearty guffaws from dentist and hygienist and awkward wheezing from my overly salivating half-open mouth)
At the end of this lovely experience, the dentist tells me he's "worried" with "how young" I am and the current state of my teeth, i.e. what this bodes for my future. I don't eat that much candy or drink that much soda. I brush day and night and usually floss at night. I wear my night guard pretty damn religiously because I grind my teeth at night. Yet I still am getting cavities and grinding big damn weak spots into my back molars. What can I do about that?! It made me sad. | | |
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