Archive for December, 2008
It’s 6:57 a.m. and I’m coming to you live from Los Angeles, where the sun has just come up and the air is as crisp and fresh as it will probably be for the entire day. You might think I’m a bit mad for being up at this hour, but I assure you what I’m about to tell you might be madder: I am planning on driving to Disneyland with my best friend and sister to buy tickets for entrance in the park for New Year’s Eve tonight. Because of a fiasco last year, in which we arrived too late, and found that tickets were completely sold out, then subsequently had to buy California Adventure tickets (ugh) and then decided to be sneaky by getting into the main park through the Monorail that runs through Downtown Disney, which we succeeded in doing by the good grace of a stranger who had extra tickets to get us through, we are trying to make sure we get in this year without the hassle, and believe me, it’s not easy. We’re making the 42 mile trek now so that we can buy tickets, drive back and go later tonight. Oh, what a chore. Because of the craziness that will ensue tonight and tomorrow, I bid you adieu, internet, until the new year!
This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.
It’s always interesting to me that the people who are strict followers of organized religions, religions that tell them to love one another, and do unto others as you have done to you and spread peace and joy are the exact people who do the opposite, who are hypocrites and judgmental of all that don’t follow their creed, their God, their savior. These are the people who tell you that your way is wrong, that your admission into the pearly gates of Heaven will be denied because you don’t follow the way, the light and the whatever else.
It’s a tad bit difficult for me to write about such a topic, mostly because I have such strong feelings about it and I’m struggling with getting everything else that’s boiling in my head out before steam starts to rise from my ears. Let me start by telling you what I do believe.
I believe that you don’t need religion to be a good person. I believe that an intelligent human being has the extraordinary capability of being compassionate, kind, trusting, loyal and genuine without the help of a church, a temple, a Bible and a holy savior. I believe that a good person is completely and entirely independent of religion. To do a good deed, to be a good friend, to love your fellow man or woman, to help someone in need - these simple and human qualities are what kind of person you are, not what your God tells you to be.
I don’t believe in organized religion. I strongly dislike religious fanatics, but I do have the ability to tolerate them, unlike their behavior towards people who do not believe in what they do. I believe in a higher power, although I don’t know what that higher power is. I believe that the core teachings of Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha and Moses are inherently the same, basic principles. I believe there’s a place in Heaven for everyone. I will not judge you no matter what God you answer to or don’t answer to. I will not impose my views on you. I will listen to you, and in turn, I’d like the opportunity to be heard.
I believe in moderation and balance. I believe that Jesus or God does not make me what I am - I make myself who I am. I do not need the motivation or order from anyone from above to tell me to be a good person. I believe in humility, philanthropy, compassion, love, empathy and justice for all. I will embrace you, regardless of your background. I believe the true teachings of religious icons have been manipulated by men, men who used it to their benefit. I don’t go to Church, I don’t read the Bible - I am my own personal powerhouse, my faith lies in me and I feel no desire or need to impose my views and thoughts on others.
If we’re playing the pigeonholing game, you could say that like most Armenian families, our ‘religion’ is Orthodox. My parents are not religious. I never went to Sunday school, I was never forced to follow something I did not believe in, I was given the freedom that should be given to all: choice. And as ironic as this may sound, I thank God every day that my beliefs, my decisions are my own and I will stand by them 100 percent. I don’t believe in organized religion, but I’m not ignorant about its ways. I know both sides of the story. I went to a Catholic high school for four years and am versed in the Bible and Christian teachings, but I choose to believe what’s in my heart, rather than what a book which was written by twisted men says I should believe. I am not ignorant of other religions as well. I was born in a predominantly Muslim country, I have studied Hinduism and especially Buddhism and have read numerous Jewish books in my lifetime. I accept everything.
You may be wondering what spurred this sudden need to write about my beliefs, something I consider so personal and sacred and the business of absolutely no one. I was involved in a conversation tonight on Christmas Eve, of all nights, that I hadn’t had since my days of arguing with a hard-headed evangelical who had horrible tunnel vision when it came to religion, as most evangelicals tend to have, in high school.
In short, I was judged. Well, my beliefs or lack thereof were, anyway. It was unsettling and although I defended myself quite well and made it known that I or anyone else for that matter, did not need the higher teachings of the Church to be deemed fit for society, it left a bad taste in my mouth.
I will never understand those who judge others. I will never understand the Jesus freaks who try to convert people, I will not understand the terrorists who think they are doing the will of Allah. I can not and will not argue with people so stubborn, so brain washed and so ignorant to the ways of the world that they use God to aid their cause in the most evil and sinister ways.
This is my manifesto, take it or leave it. And in the eternal words of 2Pac Shakur, only God can judge me, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Posted on 25 December '08 by liana, under Personal Pudding. 1 Comment.
I love getting holiday cards. In fact, I love getting cards in general, or mail for that matter. Every December, holiday cards always sneak up on me, because I’m never expecting them. I love the idea of someone taking the time to send me a hand-written card wishing me a Merry Christmas or a Happy New Year or Season’s Greetings. Now let me tell you what I don’t like: cards that double as photos - photos of a family decked out in their Christmas best, photos of babies with Santa Clause, portraits of a family on vacation, you get the picture, no pun intended. I cannot stand holiday photo cards. You want to send a photo to me? Buy an appropriate card and then stick the photo inside. How self-absorbed do you have to be to send the people on your list a card with your or your baby’s face on it, honestly.
The holidays are not any excuse for this kind of behavior. Are you celebrating the birth of Jesus, or the birth of your kid? Are you celebrating snow and winter and Santa Clause and all things under the Christmas tree or Menorah or are you celebrating the existence of your own family and you just thought that everyone else you know, would appreciate celebrating it too, so you might as well should send them a photo.
Annoying. Majorly annoying behavior. What happened to the Holiday cards of yesteryear? What happened to the intricate art and scenery and perhaps glitter waiting for you in an envelope when you arrive home? What happened to the illustrations and the breathtaking photos of a carriage in the snow, with a cabin in the background? How and when did we become so self-absorbed and egotistical that we decided everyone needed to see our face in their mailbox?
I don’t applaud this trend at all, in fact, I’m completely against it. I’m revolting against holiday-photo cards. I don’t need to see photos of you and your family invading my holiday card. Yes, babies are cute, the holidays are about family and love and yadda, yadda, yadda. But internet, this is a serious problem. A serious problem that needs to be addressed. Anti-holiday photo card people of the world, unite.
Posted on 21 December '08 by liana, under Things I hate. 1 Comment.
It’s not 2009 yet, but I’d like to take a moment here and highlight the roller coaster of a year I’ve been through, so that in a future entry, I can highlight the steady ground I’m hoping to be on. I thought about the best way of writing all of it down, and although I’d love to write a long-winded and perhaps boring to some essay on my 2008 adventures, I think a list is in order.
This year I…
-Spent the early hours of New Year’s Day at Disneyland, despite tickets being sold out. We managed to get in to the park because of the good graces of a stranger with extra tickets. That day will never be forgotten.
- Was hired as a full-time editor for a social media company
-Began doing freelance work as a journalist, which led me to write about some incredible and some not so incredible films, interview Ben Kingsley and a bunch of others and meet a lot of other great writers.
-Accidentally deleted this blog, which caused me to lose almost two years worth of entries
- Went to Montreal with my boyfriend, had great food, did great shopping and met Charles Aznavour
-Co-hosted an edible gardening internet radio show
- Saw Adele perform at The Roxy
-Took sessions with a personal trainer and enrolled at a new gym
-Watched my sister graduate high school and enroll at my alma mater
-Went through a luxating patella surgery with Henry and nursed him back to health for about five months
-Witnessed the incredible and miraculous election of 2008 and cried when Obama won
- Became a member of the Society of Professional Journalists
-Revisited the Magic Castle after my initial outing there to interview a magician
-Dyed my full head a single color for the first time ever
-Started to regularly attend the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market
-Wasted so many hours of my life sitting in the horrendous traffic of Los Angeles
-Made some amazing online friends through this blog
-Broke my camera, fixed it only to have it break again
-Tried to resist the phenomenon that is “Twilight,” but fell victim to the dazzling story of Edward and Bella, which marked my regression into adolescence.
-Worked my first red carpet, where I met Stan Lee, Frank Miller, Doug Jones, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Julie Benz
-Took my obsession with Bollywood to a whole other level by managing to watch at least one film almost every weekend for the better part of the year
-Went to work on developing a new online publication gear towards the Armenian community (still working)
-Found amazing online tools such as Twitter and StumbleUpon, which I now use daily
-Became progressively more obsessed with Anthropologie
-Prayed for snow that never came
-Didn’t spend enough time in bookstores
-Took the GRE, a rather painful experience that I will most likely repeat again sometime in the future
-Did a lot of baking and found some recipes I really loved
Posted on 15 December '08 by liana, under Personal Pudding. No Comments.
Sometimes I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas or Holiday music. I want to kill all the local radio stations here in Los Angeles because as per usual they play the most mass-produced, typical music during the holidays and even the entire rest of the year, and while I like Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” as much as the next person, I always yearn for something more. I find that stores like Banana Republic and Anthropologie play some of the best holiday music there is. It’s strategic really and very subliminal because they want to keep you in the spirit and shopping, while not driving you away with annoying notes and lyrics at the same time. The shopping/music experience has to be balanced. So without further adieu, I present to you my favorite Holiday songs…
Ella Fitzgerald’s voice is like velvet, even moreso with this song, where she croons about a lover’s plans for New Year’s Eve. “Maybe I’m crazy to suppose/I’d ever be the one you chose/Out of the thousand invitations you receive/Oh, but in case I stand one little chance/Here comes the jackpot question in advance/What are you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve? It’s a timely classic that makes you think about the last day of the year and who you’re going to spend it with and it’s slow and seductive - just the way I love my music.
I will always and forever love Dinah Washington, she’s amazing for me and her voice is just as great. You can either spend time listening to “Here Comes Santa Clause,” or trade in that played out song for “Ole Santa,” a ballad about the man in the red suit that’s unique. A bag full of toys on his shoulder/I’m so sure there’ll be a stampede/But I’m wishing Ole Santa ‘Godspeed’. These lyrics are particularly genius, but it’s the delivery that counts. Dinah Washington, just like Ms. Fitzgerald never gets old.
Fun - this is the simplest way I can describe this song from The Kinks, one of my favorite bands. It’s not only upbeat, but funny and a bit sad actually if you listen to the lyrics. But the last time I played father Christmas/I stood outside a department store/ A gang of kids came over and mugged me/And knocked my reindeer to the floor. There’s a short guitar solo and bells in the song and even though the subject matter is a bit disturbing, this song really gets me in the mood for the holidays - don’t ask why.
This song is from the soundtrack of “Love Actually” and though it’s an instrumental, it’s so beautifully done and dripping with melancholy notes, which is why I probably love it. Music that upsets you and makes you mopey is always better in my opinion, because it tends to give you something to reflect on, and this song does just that - it makes you reflect on the year you’ve had, the ones you’ve lost or perhaps the ones you love.
Every time I think I’m not going to like a Leona Naess song, I end up loving it. “Christmas” is no exception. Her voice is calming and heavy all at the same time. It’s almost a bit haunting as well. This is not an extraordinary song in the least bit and the lyrics aren’t a literary masterpiece, yet her voice combined with the music makes me love this song. It’s also a sad one, which seems to be the running theme of my list so far. Cause I am full of love/I want kisses and dresses/A late night message that cradles, halos me to sleep
Cause I am full of love/ Yes I am full of the above
Another “fun” one, The Pixies’ “Winterlong” is another depressing one, yet the somewhat upbeat music disguises the lyrics. I waited for you winterlong/You seemed to be where I belong/It’s all illusion anyway. I like the simultaneous male and female voices singing together and what sounds like an electric guitar strumming in the background.
(more…)
Posted on 11 December '08 by liana, under Pop Culture Commentary. 12 Comments.
Last Friday, I drove to my alma mater to see my sister participate in a speech competition as part of a speech class that most college students are required to complete before graduating. I left work a bit early and fought through traffic, although I ended up missing her speech. When I pulled into the old parking structure I would leave my car in, the memories effortlessly came flowing back into my mind. Rushed mornings, hunting for a parking space. The crisp, cool air as I walked to class. The heavy books in my bag, the coffee shop, the professors walking to class, the students all placed in this small microcosm of the world, where they were free to pursue education, knowledge and gain perspective.
I felt calm, comfortable, familiar. When I left my car and walked out across the street to campus, it felt like I had never left, and most of all, it felt good. Really good. Navigating my way up to the 4th floor of one of the buildings was too easy. I almost felt the need to rush, as I did when I was a student, racing against the clock to grab a seat in psychology or children’s literature perhaps.
I got there just in time to hear the winners being announced. The judging took long and while I waited with my sister, I couldn’t help but observe all the students in the room. They were all so…wide eyed and hungry. Hungry to learn, to consume, to make a difference. They had sacrificed a Friday night, to stay at school and present a speech. I watched in awe as they all waited nervously for the results. Some were even dressed in their finest clothes. At that point, I knew this probably meant so much to them, just as if would have for me while I was going to school.
After a deliberation, my sister took first place. I was and still am so proud of her. Her topic was about the sweatshop industry and she was awarded not only for her in depth research, but for her compelling delivery. And as her name was called, even with the announcer fumbling our last name, I had an incredible rush of blood to my head.
I realized how much I missed school, how much I missed learning and how I longed to be in a classroom, wide-eyed and ready to absorb, just like the students competing against my sister. I wanted to raise my hand, answer questions, take notes, work on projects, all the while working towards a goal - the goal of not only having a career, being a well-educated member of society, but being someone who actually has the ability to make a difference in the world.
I know, I know, my thoughts and ideas are perhaps overwhelmingly idealogical and perhaps even Utopian, but I am being completely honest when I say that school, college more specifically, is one of the most wonderful things in the world, and you are truly doing yourself a disservice if you decide not to attend. It’s an amazing opportunity that not everyone is privileged to have and I feel so lucky that I spent four years of my life learning - not learning because I had to, learning because I wanted to.
No one forced me to get up early, to fight for parking spaces like a predator, to go to class from morning till afternoon, then afterwards work on the student newspaper until 10 p.m. at night and then do it all over again the next day. No one forced me to take two jobs, while I was taking classes. No one forced me to do any of it, and that’s probably the reason why I today, when I think of my education, of what I’ve become, I feel like I’ve accomplished something great, as minuscule I think my accomplishments are.
It’s decided. I must go back.
Posted on 10 December '08 by liana, under Personal Pudding. No Comments.
Hi y’all! [insert infectious cackle here] I have come to tell you about my love for one miraculous woman. A woman who isn’t afraid to laugh at herself and put a stick or two of butter in every single thing she cooks. This woman, with her gorgeous salt and pepper hair and round, but adorable frame is none other than cook and author extraordinaire Paula Deen.
You see, I could be having the worst day ever - I could be depressed and pissed off about traffic and wondering what in the world the rest of my life is going to look like, and along comes Paula Deen, with her bigger than life Southern drawl, her wide eyes and her ability to turn every single meal into a heart attack waiting to happen and my life is just that much better.
Paula is my absolute favorite chef to watch on the Food Network. It’s especially exciting when she invites her husband Michael on camera for a bit of banter. He’s a quiet, genteel man, I presume. He’s just this big lovable bear and come to think of it, so is she.
Wait. Just wait. I think I had an epiphany. Michael and Paula are the modern day Santa and Mrs. Clause! Am I right or am I right?
Paula brings the most joy when she’s out on excursions with Michael, such as my favorite episode, in which she travels to France. Imagine Paula Deen in France. Go ahead and I dare you. You think you know, but you have no idea. Imagine that Southern American Butter Ball of a woman running amuck in Paris. She was the greatest thing to happen to France since cheese. She pranced around an open market, kissed a French man and ate almost every pastry at a cafe. She also travels to London in the same episode and is equally hilarious there as she is in the city of lights. The episode seemed to have hit a chord with quite a few people, as evidenced by the comments on Chowhound, but I think people are taking it too seriously and really, you are out of your mind if you take Paula Y’all Deen too seriously. You might as well not watch her, because you just don’t get it.
While she wasn’t always on the look out for coronary arteries to clog, Paula has an incredible background. Her parents died while she was in her 20s and she suffered from agoraphobia and would not leave her house. She had no formal food or chef training, yet she used her cooking talents to create a catering service which became so popular that she opened her own restaurant, The Lady and Sons in Savannah, Georgia in 1996.
In short, I think she’s amazing and the most interesting and fascinating food personality on television today. You cannot even compare her to Rachel Ray or Emeril for that matter. Yes, she’s over the top, yes she’s a bit ridiculous. Yes, you might get cholesterol just by standing next to her, but this is all besides the point. She’s pure entertainment and I love every minute I get to spend with her.
Posted on 4 December '08 by liana, under Things I Love. 1 Comment.
While I have more to tell about my shopping bonanza during the wee hours of Friday morning, there is a certain memory I have from that day that stuck out in my mind. In short, the line to get in the Ugg or UGG outlet store in Camarillo, Calif., was literally around the block. I am talking hoards of people lining up for them. I stood there in utter awe and shock as people walked out with bags of them, while others waited probably an hour or two to get in the store. None of it makes sense to me. I just do not understand. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. People of Southern California, please STOP. That’s enough. We get two days of rain and you run out to buy the ugliest shoes in the planet? What are you thinking? You don’t need them here, do you understand? This is not the frozen tundra, believe you me.
Interestingly enough, in my post last week about my disgust for Uggs, I received a comment that contested my point of view. The commentator told me that Uggs are the greatest winter boots out there and that they’re pretty stylish. It was also pointed out to me that if you can’t afford real Uggs (prices run in the hundreds), that there are a lot of knock-off Uggs on the market.
This comment got me thinking. The price, Internet, is definitely not on my priority list for hating Uggs. In fact, I condemn knock-offs of any kind. On the other hand, I thought, if I’m going to be spewing hate for a certain kind of shoe, I might as well provide alternatives. So here is a short list of shoes I would strongly urge you to purchase instead of Ugg(ly) boots.
Colin by Madden Girl - $59.90
This pull-on boot has a padded insole and a low hidden wedge heel and it quite stylish. It comes in brown, gray or black is just the perfect height for a casual outfit. Wearing them with jeans tucked in or out makes them fab.
Treker Boot - Free People - $388
Hello lover. Yes it’s expensive, but I’m including it anyway because I am head over heels in love with them. Made with leather and suede and lined with shearling, these boots are pretty much guaranteed to keep you warm, while keeping you tough. Chic and gorgeous. Toss those fugly Uggs NOW.
Arkansas - Steve Madden - $109.95
Looking for a comfortable full length boot? Here you go. This pull-on Steve Madden boot has a suede upper and rubber sole and comes in taupe suede, a versatile shade that’s perfect for winter.
Reese - London Fog -on sale for $119.50 from $150
You just can’t resist those Uggs can you? Well here is a similar, but tastefully done alternative. A faux fur-lined boot to keep you warm, and waterproof suede to keep you dry, this will satisfy your Uggdiction while keeping you out of the running for Fashion Disaster of the Year . It also has a full-zip closure, microfur lining and a thermolite footbed. Take a look at that, you lucky woman.
Posted on 3 December '08 by liana, under Style. No Comments.
If you could change one physical thing about yourself, what would it be? Surely, you’ve been asked that question in your life time, as have I. Do I have a choice of more than one thing? This might take a while. The trouble is, I don’t think I’ve ever been at a point in my life, when I have felt 100 or at least 90 percent good about my physical appearance. I know, I know. This applies to most people, but sometimes I wonder if I will ever get to a point in my life when I look in the mirror before going out or staying in and say, you know what? I like this. I like me. It’s not perfect, but it’s where I want everything to be.
I’m not holding my breath.
So when I think to myself, if I could change anything about my physical appearance, I have an entire list ready, but for this post’s sake, I won’t bore you with my self-conscious whining for too long.
- skin - I am now 24-years-old. That’s 10 years older than 14, meaning my skin SHOULD have cleared up by now and when I wake up in the morning, I should be able to look at myself calmly and go pour myself tea, not let out a ghastly scream that confirms the worst: a big juicy pimple, making himself comfortable on the side of my face. I have unnecessary acne. It’s the kind that doesn’t even make sense at all. It’s just there one day for no explained reason and it’s telling me, “I am going to ruin your life - this might take up to a week or more, please, get comfortable and make sure you turn your self-confidence down a notch.” When I brought up the issue with my then-doctor, who, by the way, had a brain made of the cotton balls she kept in a jar in the examination room, she brushed it off as completely normal, comparing herself to me. “Look,” she said, pointing to her chin, “I’m in my 40s and I have acne too. It’s fine! Let me just prescribe you some medication.” I wanted to yell and say, but you don’t understand, NO ONE and I mean NO ONE my age that I know has arbitrary acne like I do. You just really don’t get it! But I resisted this urge and instead took her prescription down to the pharmacy, only to find out that I paid $26 for a tube of benzoyl peroxide, when I could have just bought it from the market myself for about $5. Useless, utterly useless. They let anyone pass through medical school these days, don’t they?
- weight - Oh, how cliche of me, I know. Look, it’s not that I’m particularly big. I’m not. But when you’re as short as I am, a few added pounds look like 10. Trust. And it’s not like my weight is distributed evenly over my body, oh noooo. It decides to reside in my hips and thighs and make my life a living hell in the process. I’ve tried to get rid of it before, but nothing has worked for me. Mostly because I lack the motivation and energy to go through with it. If I want to lose weight, I’ll probably have to abandon all other areas of my life and go on a show like the Biggest Loser or something like it, because you know what? Food is good. I’ll get to it though, one day.
- nose - The only thing I need to put here is that I’m Armenian, and perhaps like other cultures, we are notorious for and have notorious noses. It’s not as bad as it could be, but I’d just like it to be nipped in the bud a bit. Just a little. Please? Just a tiny bit from the bottom. Pretty please? I guess it makes me unique. Whatever.
- height - Hello, my name is Liana and I am short. Yes that’s right, my dreams of being a contestant on Tyra “Smile With Your Eyes” Banks’ “America’s Next Top Super Model” were shattered when I was conceived. To be honest, I don’t mind being short all that much. I can fit into small spaces easily. Once I crawled under a steel fence at school to retrieve backpacks that my friends and I had left inside when we had wandered outside to get some food. They coined me “Mighty Mouse.” I hate that my shortness shows SO MUCH when I’m standing next to tall people. I’m only asking for a couple of inches, I’m not greedy. But you better believe, that if I was tall enough, I would definitely try my hand out at modeling. Fierce.
What parts would you like to reattach?
Posted on 2 December '08 by liana, under Personal Pudding. 1 Comment.
I turned 24-years-old yesterday. It was a strange feeling waking up in the morning, with a slight lump in my throat. Turning 23 was much better, in fact, in my opinion it’s the perfect age. You’re over 21, so you don’t have any real laws against you, yet you’re still considered “young.”
It was like any other day really, except I got treated to a lunch outing, card and cupcakes at work - that was nice and unexpected and really made my day bearable and lovely. When I came home, there was a cake waiting for me, a gift from my sister, in addition to the fact that she wallpapered my entire door with the dazzling Edward Cullen. I’m bordering on psychotic, I know.
I was going to write about what I accomplished this year, but I’d rather do that for my New Year’s post. I don’t like to count my accomplishments by age, doing them by year is much better and it doesn’t remind you that there are millions of people in the world being more productive than you, while they’re younger than you.
It’s hard to believe that I’ve lived for 24 years. It’s harder to believe where my life would be right now if my family hadn’t moved to the U.S. If I had stayed in Tehran, as I was in the photo above. It’s still harder to think about what my life is going to be, that’s honestly the hardest part. I thought I knew, but I have no idea. We like to think so, but we’re not always the controller of our destinies.
More than anything, what I’d like for my birthday is to share it with my grandpa. I wish he could have seen what I’ve become, what my sister and cousins have become. I miss him immensely and would have liked to share so many moments of my life with him. Sometimes I remember him and realize what a passionate man he was. I think I might have gotten my passion from him. When he would sit near the dining room table and speak about Armenia, his motherland, his home, his love, his eyes would well up with tears. I used to laugh it off and tell him to stop, but almost 15 years later, I understand. I completely understand.
Here’s to another year. I hope it will be better.
Posted on 2 December '08 by liana, under Personal Pudding. 1 Comment.
