When I walk outside these past few days, I’m appreciating the sun on my face. When I think about those three women (and the child) who were trapped in that hell for ten years in Cleveland, it just defies comprehension that their youth was robbed of them in such a monstrous way. Karma isn’t enough, and there is no sentence I can imagine good enough, for that excuse for human life who kidnapped them, beat them, raped them, starved them, shackled them, mind-fucked them, etc. I don’t care if he had a troubled youth himself, he violated people in his life a thousand fold and that is simply beyond outrageous.
As much as a Francophile as I am, I’m very glad that my daughter will no longer be Monique. She is changing her middle name to Hayden when she becomes Mrs. Hernandez next month. I think it will flow nicely and what’s fortunate is that she is one of the few women who can probably have a middle name that is suitable as a common name for a woman (and a man). Think of Hayden Panettiere, the actress and dolphin activist. She was very sweet when she brought the subject up because she knows that my niece’s middle name is Hayden, something my sister Sabina did when we feared there would be no more Haydens in our line, but now I have a nephew to rectify that. Alex is also considering giving her kids the middle name Hayden, which fortunately does work for both genders. Monique was just something I thought sounded nice, but Hayden is something more special and personal. I do wish there was some indication that she was Italian in there, but her name is already going to be a mouthful.
I’m not sure I agree with the logic or attempt at realism, but our emergency drill today here at my job involved their using blank ammunition, I suppose to simulate a weapon-yielding whack job coming into this place. I hope they didn’t give anyone any ideas. It’s a hospital and so far I haven’t heard of any of these mass shootings taking place in one.
Today was my last day working at Stanford as I’m moving on to a new job Monday, but I’m kind of sad. I won’t miss the sometimes monstrous commute, but I met some uber-intelligent, amiable people, who I intend to stay in touch with. I had a wonderful experience doing something outside of the box, career-wise, and in the process got to experience a “campus life” that I never had going to law school and college at night and during the weekends. What’s more it was in a very progressive, prestigious and physically gorgeous, world-class locale, that I had previously never ventured into, despite being raised mostly in the Bay Area.
Even before I started only being able to eat so little due to the sleeve surgery, I had toyed with the idea and had avoided the most bone-exposed eating for a long time. In my twenties I even went eight years without eating red meat or pork (only poultry and a little fish), but definitely gained a lot of weight.
Life is different now. I’ve learned that many smart people (like Einstein) became vegeterian in their later years. I’ve seen lots of documentaries and less biased reports about the the health benefits of a much smaller amount of meat consumption and I really like the taste and texture of (usually cooked) vegetables. I find them easier to digest. I’m still not convinced I should not have dairy or eggs, but I do think we can humanely treat farm animals that yield us these products. World sustainability is important, and also getting nutrients in the small amount of food I’m able to eat is important to me as I am no longer required to be on many medications. It helps that my daughter and her fiance live and work in Berkeley, where the slow food movement was founded, and that they often have vegan weekends and/or go on raw food forays. They don’t use microwaves or have many of the things that my daughter enjoyed eating very much growing up. She’s always liked a wonderful variety of cuisines, but her tastes have become even more exotic and experimental, yet still prudent and wise.
My daughter’s new business sites: “Candles made to honor the Orisha”
Going through Youtube I just found out today that Vesta Williams died last year, apparently in a hotel room from a prescription drug/alcohol overdose, at the age of 53. Perhaps because it happened so close to Teena Marie’s death and in light of Whitney Houston’s death by similar circumstances, not to mention Michael Jackson. She was one of my favorite singers and should have been a far more popular singer because she had an amazing, innate talent.