a chick thing

I have very few female friends. Part mistrust –aaah women– part personality, and in part it just happened this way. At work, I’m usually the only woman in a group of many men, but never on a pedestal, never undermined. And just back from a few hours with my favorite female friends, I feel praised, strong, and compassionate towards my gender (though still despising the small ones that need a guy to feed  their soul and have no self-respect whatsoever).

My friend Christine Nazareth is one of these women I deeply admire, an eternal source of inspiration. Like me, Christine left Brazil to live in LA and multi-task in arts & entertainment as a source of joy, was a muse of great men in her 20’s and got pregnant at 45 completely unexpectedly. Pregnancy at this age is a divine intervention btw, a winning lottery ticket, and Christine cashed out big time: Ben is the Perfect Boy.  Christine coasted the intelligentsia in the 70’s and 80’s, was mentored by Henry Miller; and we laughed out loud remembering anecdotes of those days…. how he’d walk the entire city of LA in times of no money, how his daughter forgot his remains the day after he was cremated in the restaurant she had dinner, how his blood pressure would go up at the sight of a  naked breast. Then from his wonderful quotes, on appropriate for the moment: when you’re miserable, every crocodile is with you, but when you have the guts to be happy, that’s where the threat relies to see who sticks.  Anyway we’re starting to write about the female universe, and the silly questions abound: why is it that we are hardwired to think that perfect love is right around the corner?And that we forgive the endless lies in name of hope? Why are we overly dramatic, chatty, and teary? Why do our emotions run in torrents?  why do we accept the quasi-misogyny of the BF as if it were normal? was it Photoshop that made every woman get naked or was it time? are we all really a little crazy? Do we really know that much? Oh this is endless….

Apple Evil Jobs

We’re in a recession, watching foreclosures all across the country , scary steady job losses, trying to be resilient to a persist gloomy atmosphere. However Apple reports the company’s most profitable quarter thanks to record sales of iPhones and Macintosh computers.  They’ve sold more iphones and macs than ever, which can be attributed as a direct result of Steve Jobs appearance in the limelight again,  in addition to the blooming of a mobile culture. I focus on him. He has done magic to his company. Consumers look for brands that help them connect. People naturally gravitate toward brand categories that can help them converse and connect with others.  And that Apple has done very well, with impeccable design, innovator style, friendly usability and at the front of the modern life electronic gadgets. But is there a morbid fascination by the appearance of an ailing Jobs?  Isn’t this overwhelming response a way to monopoly? Why can’t we have a variety of gadgets under the same system? Why are we obliged to upgrade every 2 months? Why can’t my blackberry sync with my mac? Why does the 3.0 overshadows the 2.0 and I can’t move forward without it? Why can’t I open numbers on google docs? Is this plain evil selvage capitalism?

female ramble on men’s toe nails

I once got a negative comment on my weight changes and it was all that I needed to realize that whomever came up with the expression “time heals everything” is a liar. Time heals nothing. What happens is that we learn how to live with scars, deep wounds, puncture wounds, nightmares, fears, and emotional triggers. But time does nothing to heal things per se. On the contrary, there’s always a little bit of ‘everything’ that remains…. sometimes a poem, other times a dump.
Women have more ease to live with the scars, turning them into affectionate skin pattern. We just moisturize them, cover them, expose them, stare at them, and that’s that. The real problem becomes when we start tiptoeing around men who seem forever open wounds, with their inherent inability to face emotions, tell the truth, or discuss hairy issues… Why can’t they just smooth their imperfections generated in the past? Instead they find ease in blaming us us wonder-women who finally embraced them as they are, accusing us pf being another potential threat. Ugh. And old scar becomes an evergreen open wound….that little bit of everything…. Ain’t life grand?

social media, the online cocktail party

oh…and it is so tiring…. Social media is public, everything is out, one has to watch its words, choice of photos and tone. Social media is the new cocktail party. It’s where we meet in the ‘telemodern’ age, being it for work, new friends, like-minded meet-ups, lovers, or romantic liaisons. Its hard to keep consistency; and our overly used words need to be wisely chosen as they are the first impression you make. One needs to be strategic. It is exhausting.
Linkedin works for the resume in your own words, and I usually sound pragmatic and passionate. It’s also the new address book, the little black dress. I have a good and extensive resume, and I’m having fun reducing my career of 25+ years to a paragraph….what a nerve! Facebook is about friends, and old friends, and how you lighten up. Hobbies, colored pictures and stickers. I have been part of the Facebook exodus group and am working on my own social network start-up…ha. And because social media is democratic and free, the lack of ethics abound. More than once I was caught by surprise with a faux-pas picture on my boyfriend’s Facebook page that I really could live without seeing. Alas, ethics. Or the lack of. But the new requirement in the professional world is the blog: do I have an opinion? do I express it? what exactly do I think? And truth be told I haven’t wrote much lately because everything seems shallow and volatile. The 30 seconds of fame of every joe schmo is overwhelming and uninteresting. I don’t tweet and I don’t care.
Scarcity volatility technology… the blooming era of me. Even Nobel prizes now are given to big personality promises rather than their achievements.