Death, dismemberment, and a walk in the park. Just your typical Wednesday afternoon.

I spent the greater part of my day learning about all of the benefits that will accompany my new job with the government, along with my protection from harassment and various other workplace unpleasantries. I am now a Teamster member for life, which is great because I love rights and a good collective bargain every now and then. Later in the day, I had some time to walk around Pioneer Square and reflect upon my new position as a civil servant.

I realized that the meeting was indeed very informative and I now have enough literature about my employment to create a small textbook. At the time, the meeting seemed rather upbeat, but in retrospect I realize how taken aback I am by the casual tone in which one benefit was discussed: Accidental Death & Dismemberment insurance, or AD&D as it is playfully abbreviated for those who use the phrase with enough frequency. AD&D comes as a separate entity to life insurance, although really, at the end of the day, both forms of compensation are reminders of our fragility and our mortality.

From what I've been able to understand so far, LIFE INSURANCE is the government's (or any other corporation's) way of saying, "Your life was worth something, $X, in fact. You = $X. Now your loved ones can have $X instead of you. It's close enough, right?"

AD&D INSURANCE is a bit more like saying, "Oops! That wasn't supposed to happen. Here is $X for the whole of you (remember You = $X), OR $X (whole) ÷ Y (loss of various extremities) - Z (loss of workplace ability e.g. typing) = x (new worth)."




This may be a rather morbid way of quantifying the goals of insurance, but isn't insurance all about quantifying us? It gives us and our massive amounts of stuff a numerical value. I do find it somewhat disturbing that my hands are now worth a value inasmuch as that value contributes to my work performance. Even worse, this value exceeds many families' entire gross annual income around the world. AD&D really gave me a new perspective on the phrase "it costs an arm and a leg," but at the end of the day the trade-off just doesn't seem worth it. A topic of discussion for my next Teamster meeting, perhaps?

Secular Seder

We live in a world radicalized and polarized by religion. The terrorist bombings in Moscow early this morning represent merely one manifestation of the power religion has to guide-and misguide-global citizens who identify most strongly with an ambiguously written text of their god(s). The past thousands of years have witnessed wars fought in the name of religious persecution, religious freedom, religious imposition, religious conversion, and religious rejection. I realize that religion is a personal and complicated issue for every individual, but I often wonder how much international inter- and intra-religious strife is caused by attempts to conform to a few people's often strict interpretations of a certain religion, without leaving much room for error- or worse, leaving so much room that all actions become dignified or redeemable.


As a Jewish woman of Russian descent, I can safely say that my ancestors have been involved in the vast majority of these religious wars, most often as the group being banished, forcibly converted, pogrom-ed, or simply killed. I am the first to defend Judaism in the face of Antisemitism and I proudly celebrate many aspects of Jewish culture, from the music to the food. However, I, like so many Jews around the world, live by my own moral compass rather than that of the Torah (or any other realm of Jewish law). I grew up going to a school in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood. I have been to Israel and was even Bat Mitzvahed in Jerusalem (reading phonetic Hebrew, mind you). I lived in Prague, a fairly hostile city to religion and Judaism in particular (Neo-Nazism is making a frightening comeback all throughout Europe and U.S. KKK leader David Duke is a household name for many Central Europeans). All of these experiences have strengthened my connection to the rich, beautiful, and tragic history of Judaism while further distancing me from any form of religiosity.


This all brings me to tonight, the first night of Passover, and my first ever "Secular Seder". Tonight, I decided that the most important part of my favorite Jewish holiday was not really about religion at all, but about gathering and remembrance. My Seder consisted of Trader Joes tamale appetizers, homemade matzoh ball soup and charoset, Hot Toddies for dessert, and the company of wonderful people. I celebrated my Pesach very casually with one of my dearest and oldest friends Alexa, her boyfriend Logan, and our friend Kirsten (the latter two are not Jewish, but wanted to share the culinary and emotional experience). We had many laughs, told the story of Passover (somewhat butchering the story and using many ellipses), found no afikomen, sang no songs, asked none of the four questions, and recited no prayers.


It was a bit unconventional, possibly sacrilegious to some, and exactly how I wanted my night to progress. Will it be my new Passover tradition? Probably not. I still love the more traditional Seders I attended with my family growing up. However, this is just another way I have been able to do "being Jewish" with my own rules and my own priorities.

Edict of the district + health care reform

This weekend I am visiting San Francisco with my mother. To ensure that we will always maintain our sacred mother-daughter time, we have decided to take a trip at least once a year. Past trips included Europe, Mexico, Hawaii, New York City, Colorado, Las Vegas, and even San Fran..Future trip will likely be determined by climate change patterns and geopolitics, I suppose. I hope to create similar traditions with all of the people in my life that I love dearly but see rarely.

On this particular trip, I began thinking about the importance of locally based patriotism for creating a city about which residents and tourists can give a damn. In other words, a city with some s-o-u-l. And when that city has too much soul or conflicting souls and ideologies, districts eventually emerge, procreate, and, particularly when they become so soulful that young, poor, diverse crowds begin to thrive, they frequently (and woefully) begin to...shudder.... gentrify! Venice Beach in L.A., the Central District in Seattle, and the Mission District in San Francisco are classic examples of this phenomenon of gentrification. I wonder how districts with the most artistic expression, vibrant nightlife, and noncommercial associations can flourish without ultimately being bought out by the very people who destroy these characteristics.

...

A final food for thought cooked up by my weekend getaway is the preponderance of people in dire need of mental health care. Walking around Union Square today, I was struck by the masses of severely mentally ill people. I can’t say that I was surprised by the amount of overt mental illness; after living in L.A. and the U-District of Seattle, I am certainly desensitized to the visual and auditory sights and sounds of mentally ill Americans who should be receiving meaningful treatment. As national health care policy begins to take shape, with all of its compromises and shortcomings, I only hope that this administration finds a way to restore and improve the asylums closed down by previous presidents (thank you, Reagan). We have too many veterans, survivors of abuse and neglect, and people with treatable, yet highly dysfunctional, mental disorders roaming our streets to not take action. In the meantime, locals and tourists around the States will continue to look on with pity, guilt, disgust, or not at all.

No such thing as a free lunch or a free ride: a $124 lesson

I returned to Seattle today after a very short-lived trip to Los Angeles and what may be my last trip for a long while. I never really thought of Seattle as my home, but today a feeling of permanence is settling in and I cannot help but feel as though Seattle's grip on me is stronger than I imagined.

Riding the new Light Rail today, I saw the Emerald City from a completely different vantage point. In addition to being a convenient mode of transport from the SeaTac Airport to Downtown, the Light Rail passes through the industrial hubbubs and blue-collar havens I rarely consider when I think of Washington. I passed by a meat factory called MacDonalds (not to be confused with McDonalds), tiny restaurants serving food from nearly every region of the world that I have yet to visit, and blocks of track townhouses indistinguishable from one another. Parts of the track looked like a different country, with shanty homes and angry graffiti art creating a gripping "Welcome Home" mat for me, as if to remind me that my life is only one-part merit and two-parts dumb luck.

Abruptly, my trance was broken by the emergence of two burly security guards checking tickets. In the haste of my departure from the airport, I neglected to purchase a ticket to board the train. Hoping that the guards would view me as a kindred spirit once they saw my misshapen King County identification (which doubles as my bus pass), I realized that somewhere between the airport bus and the Light Rail my card was lost...again. Even though I am responsible in all other areas of my life, securing my personal possessions has always been a challenge. I pleaded with the guards to believe my story and, thankfully, I left with only a disheveled bag and a stern warning that I'm told saved me a $124 fine. Now I just need to figure out how to tell my boss that I lost yet another county item. This should be a great way to start my first day as a full time employee next week. So far, my county I.D. has been like a boomerang. I send it out into the universe and it comes back in due time. Let's see if this boomerang theory holds true once again.

Rather than providing a long, boring introduction to this blog, I decided to just get on with the show and hope it speaks for itself. My past attempts to blog have been failures, but I feel rejuvenated by my recent graduation from undergraduate life and a calling to begin leaving my mark on this world. I hope that this blog will continually mature and eventually grow old with me. As I enter a new chapter in my life, I hope to chronicle the events of my days, from the shockingly mundane to the wildly absurd.

Stay tuned.