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Baker from the Bay Area. Inspired always.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

"It could all be so simple, but you'd rather make it hard."



MLK said, "Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity."


The Dalai Lama said, "When ignorance is our real master, then there is no possibility of peace."


William Shakespeare said, "There is no darkness, but ignorance."


Now, let me tell you something. I believe that ignorance is straight FEAR.


Fear of the unknown. Fear of being vulnerable, fear of physical and mental injury…fear of embarrassment. What's embarrassing is KNOWINGLY being unwilling to learn.


Of all the things in life, that's the stupidest thing I've ever experienced.


I am not without ignorance, nor fear. I don't know everything, but I am one who tries to find out what I don't know. The words "I don't know" irk me to no end, probably because I needed to have answers for a lot of questions at a young age. Neither fear or ignorance create a quality of life that is both joyous or fulfilling. The only thing that creates a satisfactory life is overcoming or at least facing fears for what they are: an internal insecurity. Nobody likes that uneasy feeling, but to be overrun by it is just a sad state of affairs. It's really difficult to witness…and REALLY hard to keep my mouth shut when I see it happening.


I try to give people, ALL people, the benefit of the doubt. I've never been one to judge a person by their race, gender, sexual preference, age. (In an effort to be completely honest though, I do judge books by their covers sometimes.) If I've ever brushed you off, it's because of something YOU did or said, but never because of something you have absolutely no control over.



ALL WE CAN DO IS CONTROL OUR WORDS AND ACTIONS. THAT'S IT. 




Like Lauryn Hill said, "It could all be so simple, but you'd rather make it hard."


I'm getting to the point here, promise. I usually post blogs when I can't stop thinking about something. Most people who keep up with my (seldom) works know this, and I appreciate the time you take from your life to peek into mine. Here we go:


Something happened on Sunday afternoon that really infuriated me. I keep my mouth shut for the most part, I try to be a peacekeeper. People in my family tend to be hotheads so naturally, I have always tried to balance them out.  That's not to say I don't speak up when need be, I am just a person who realizes that we all to pick battles. Let me set the scene for you.


My family and I support my little sister's friends' basketball teams often. We go as a family unit to their games to cheer them on and have a good time. I don't like saying I go because I "love" the game. There are things I definitely love more than any sport, but I enjoy taking in a basketball game, absolutely. (For the record, I fancy college ball more than professional.) I love a good pass, a good pick, and especially really good assists. (Probably why John Stockton is one of my favorite athletes ever.) Now, I'm not gonna say anything more than we were in a location where the demographic is pretty well off. Our girls, not so well off. In trying to be…uhhh politically correct, I'll just say they're "diverse." Not from the ghetto, but from freaking Brentwood, California. That's hardly Compton.


Sidenote: For those of you not from the area, there's two Brentwoods. We're the one in Northern California, not Southern.


Anyway, we were late to the game and were rolling eight-deep so we grabbed the first seats we found. The crowd was not quite segregated by team, and we ended up sitting next to spectators who favored the other one. Right off the bat, I started to hear complaints of offensive fouls and lots of badmouthing about our girls. First of all, it's 8th grade basketball. It's not competitive league, it's a recreational league just so the girls can play to gain more experience for higher levels. The freaking clock doesn't even stop and the fouls are not counted personally, for chrissake. That makes no difference though, this crap wouldn't be acceptable in any league below college. My brother-in-law must've been hearing the same things, as well as my sister, and we all kind of looked at each other and decided we needed to move before we all got really pissed off. We eventually did, but definitely not after a few extra cheers for our girls right in front of them. Because that's all you're suppose to be there for-- to cheer people on, not cut them down. (Do I sense a life lesson here?)


Now, I could understand if what the opposing audience was saying was true and justified. They'd still be saying it rudely, and I'd still be irritated, but I could take that if it were the case. It undeniably wasn't, it was all in bad taste and they just sounded so IGNORANT. Every time we shot the ball, a man would say, "NOPE!" Every time there was any contact at all, a woman would say, "That's CHARGING! Are we watching the same game, Ref?!" Basically, they were accusing the girls of playing dirty. I'll be the first to admit that it was a little sloppy at times, but definitely not intentional. I'll also be the first to admit that some of the girls have tempers and let their emotions get the best of them, but definitely not to the point where they're gonna go all Ron Artest (Oh my bad, Metta World Peace!) or Latrell Sprewell on somebody. That was the difference between Brentwood girls and these parents: they're not stupid…and they are still learning how to face adversity. Which is exactly what this was.


So, we moved. Alllllllllllllll the way to the other side of the bleachers. I sat down next to a woman with a few super cute kids and smiled. My sister and the rest of the family went up and mixed in with the crowd. Wouldn't you know it, the comments continued. And continued. AND CONTINUED. These people were deliberately cheering when our girls would get fouled or injured. Like, literally "woohoo"-ed when their girls would play hell of unsportmanslike. My little buddy, Mon, literally got SLAPPED in the face while bringing the ball downcourt, it was an obvious foul, the refs called nothing, and a bunch of dumbass parents STOOD UP and CHEERED.

WHO DOES THAT?


Ignorant people.


By this time, my sister and bro-in-law had had it. They both spoke up calmly about certain calls, explaining the rules, etc. and were met with standoffish comments. My sister eventually said in so many words to not comment on the game if you didn't understand it. It escalated into the woman accusing my bro-in-law of threatening her when NOTHING even close was insinuated. She even mentioned calling the cops on him. This was obviously a woman who was used to being able to say whatever the hell she wanted. What the hell was she so afraid of? My sister (who is 5'2" lol) played along and made them feel incredibly stupid by shoveling her children away from the crazy lady and her fellow delusional parents. She turned the tables and acted like they were the dangerous ones. (And they were in fact, dangerous. People like that are TOXIC.) I looked up at my sister, looked at the lady, shrugged my shoulders cuz I knew it was over, and cheered my little homies on.


What kind of parents act this way? And raise their kids to act this way? All joking aside, this gravely baffled me. Parents like that create the never ending cycle of assholes in this world.


It ended there. Long story long, the Brentwood girls beat the other team pretty badly. And with every single one of the odds against them. The losing families cleared out really quickly afterwards with their tails between their legs. And rightly so. It's just so incredibly sad that this kind of stuff still occurs. What pisses me off the most is that our girls will never be on the same initial level as some others, and I'm not just talking about basketball. Even though it's not talent they lack, definitely not that at all. It's sickening, really.


My family and I talked afterwards about kid's sports etiquette. Family and friends go to these events to cheer their team on, encourage them, and help them keep their head in the game. We even cheer on the other team if they make a good play. You'd never hear any of that negative nonsense come out of my mouth. I know better. And so did those parents cheering for injuries, which makes it so much worse. I mean, I'm not a saint in the slightest, but I know when to hold my tongue. In fact, the only thing I said to one of my little sister's besties, Jamesha, after the game was that she played really, really well and that the only foul that I saw that was legitimate was when she was half a second late posting up. Of course, I wasn't on the court, but it was pretty obvious who one of the refs was favoring. He was a dick, too, but for the same reasons everyone else was acting dickish. He told Jay that he was going to T her up next time she acted out. Absolutely ridiculous. You're not refereeing the WNBA, asshole.


POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT. That's like friggin Child Education 101. Geez, you'd think people would pick up a damn book. I'm sure they had enough money to go out and buy one that taught them how to act in situations with people "like me."


My sister summed it up best, "I just wanted to say, 'BITCH, I SHOP AT WHOLE FOODS, TOO!"


If Jay, Mon, or any of the ballers read this:


Good job, girls. That was for sure a job well done. I'm sorry for cussing! You know that's inappropriate! ;P If you take nothing else from this, know that you should always keep your head high and smiling. Especially when you know it'll piss someone off. :)


See? It's not that hard to say a few encouraging words. SHEESH!

Change

Embrace it.


The Eclipse. An absolutely amazing shot taken by Marco Pelo over the Golden Gate Bridge.


Freaking unbelievable.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

My ode to Gus

Oh to be a dog

Gus makes weird noises.

I just witnessed him rubbing his body on the ground like a chinchilla basking in its dirt bath.

I wish I was a pup

I could eat whatever the hell I want, and it'd come out like poop

I could crap wherever I want and some dumbass human has to come clean it up or else they get fined. I'd think, "What a sucker."

One time, Gus ate an ounce of weed (that was not his, might I add. RUDE!), a whole bottle of my laundry detergent, a shitload of wood chips that covered a completely landscaped backyard... among so many other things, I'm sure.

AND HE IS STILL ALIVE

AND LIKE, HEALTHY!

Oh to be a dog

Written the last time I was in Oceanside, CA visiting family. I just cannot get over the fact that Gus is still breathing and his bowels aren't perforated. Who just DIGESTS WOOD?


So much for writing about legitimate topics! LOL!



Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Failure

I never pressed "publish" last night. And my lovely brother, Akira, shut down my computer before I could do so. Therefore, my goal to blog twice a month has now become a failure.


In order to make up for that, I will try to blog at least 3 times this month. About legitimate issues. lol


Goodness gracious, I need to get with the program.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Daisies for a Daisy

Camryn asked me one day if we could do a plant project for Girl Scouts. I am not an avid gardener, but I guess I'm the next best thing? Or so she thought!

This entry will consist of mainly photos of our adventurous endeavor. Here we go!

The task to get her "rose" badge is to plant a "rose" or a flower in something that is recyclable. This is what we found!

I asked her pops to poke holes in the bottom for drainage purposes. We ripped off the paper label and started to...

PAINT!

She chose the daisies of course, I chose the morning glory.

Camryn painting away…I swear, I don't know how she sees through that sea of hair.

I made her sweep her hair out of her face before I took this picture. She didn't even blink because she was so focused.

She had a solid plan of drawing flower hearts and green stems with a pink background.

Planting the morning glory.

The finished cans. I need to find a sealant for her can. Any suggestions? I did mine with chalkboard paint! I'll show you what mine looks like later.

The final result: a happy Daisy girl scout!

This project was done three days ago, and they're already sprouting! We bought some steroidal potting soil (miracle-gro lol) so that might have helped!

Thanks Coy (of The Pitcher Plant Project) for your wisdom! Really appreciate it! We will keep you updated on their progress :) <3

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Dear Sixteen- Year- Old Me...


I recently came across an article tucked in Spirit Magazine. They're always in the seat-back on my Southwest flights, but I almost never flip through because I always have a book on hand. (I'm so Rory Gilmore.) Anyway, I just happened to come across excerpts from a book called Dear Me: A Letter to My Sixteen-Year-Old Self. It's basically a collection of letters that celebrities, sports stars, authors, etc…, have written to their teen selves. James Woods' and Seth Green's entries had me practically choking on my complimentary peanuts and bawling at the same time. I sure was a sight.

I decided to take a nod from the book and write one of my own. Right here…right now!
Dear Sixteen- Year- Old Me,
Dear oh dear. You've just turned 16, and look at you. Just a mess! Your dad has just died, you've lost your best friend, you failed your driver's license test, you've moved out of your mother's house. Gosh, you're so dramatic. :P
You're so silly. You're "in love" with a guy who notices you just barely. You're the kid that gives him all the attention he wants, and everything he asks for. You'll learn soon that this is not the way to a boy's heart. Don't back down and don't dumb yourself down. You are worth way more than that, dummy!

It all gets better. Not after it gets worse, but it does. I promise. And you know I never make promises that I can't keep. You will go on to do some pretty notable things in your own right. Just make sure you have the cajones to take the plunge because your life will be that much richer if you do. I have faith in you. I'm so glad that you learned at a young age how important it is to be yourself, how important your family is, and most importantly, how important it is to realize those aforementioned things as soon as possible. You tend to see people for what they are, but you also try to give them the benefit of the doubt. That's a good thing. But you are and will be wrong a handful of times, so be cautious. Be smart.
I wish I could warn you: it will unfortunately get bad again, for even longer this time, but you're a tough cookie. It'll be okay. You will become best friends again with your long-lost friend, but your longest friendship will disintegrate. Your mom will be taken too early, but your family will remain unified and your eyes will be opened. Don't beat yourself up too much about it. You'll get your heart broken a few times. And last spoiler alert, but you will definitely get your license…and become a pretty damn good driver. In fact, you're going to be doing a lot of driving in the next ten years. You'll still have your Honda Accord, Geraldo, and he will be very loyal to you. He will take you across the country and back, among many other places. 
Rest assured that family will still be your #1 priority, you will still be in each other's corners, and you'll be okay with that (as you should be). You might think that it's a slump you're in, but you're exactly where you are suppose to be…even if you don't think so. Do yourself a favor and try to remind yourself of that when you get down in the dumps.

Remember one thing, please. Just because your parents died at young ages, doesn't mean you're gonna. Try to live in the present as much as possible, and remember to literally stop and smell the roses. Find and appreciate the beauty around you, relish in the sounds you are able to hear…sit and soak in all of your random feelings sometime. It's good for you, really.

Remain strong, remain kind. Remain yourself. That's good for you, too.

Love, love, love, crazy love,

Chanelle/Chelly/Chan/Chanelly/Channel/Molina/ChanChan/Beans/Lina/Chanella/Bell/Chanella Bella/Smiley/Nella 

P.S. Oh yeah, you'll pretty much answer to anything. Learn to like that, too, will ya?
P.P.S. You'll still love Hanson. But you probably knew that. GOOD FOR YOU!
----

Sidenote: Just to clarify, when I'm talking about the boy, it wasn't ever a "that's what she said" situation…if you get what I'm sayin'. I ain't no ho.

So, what would you say to yourself at sixteen? Would definitely be one hell of a conversation, I bet!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

LOVE

"It's got to be that can't-eatcan'tsleepreach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of stuff, right?"


Name that movie.


































Too late.


It Takes Two.


Who knew the Olsen twins knew jack crap about love?