Monday, April 28, 2008

Are you interested in what I did this weekend?

Well, it's officially Summer here in Southern California - pay no mind to the fact that it's still April. It's been in the 90's here recently so I'm trading in the jeans for Summer dresses. Summer is definitely my favorite season, being that I hail from a part of a country that celebrates the season so extensively.

I spent the day at the beach yesterday - my first real beach day of the season. I've hung out with my family a few times at the beach already this year, but yesterday was a true beach day: laying out in the sun for hours, playing in the waves, and exploring tide pools. I would do that everyday if I could.

On Saturday was my nieces' fourth birthday party. You guessed correctly: I took a load of pictures, all of which you can view right here. I'm thinking about renaming this blog "Ode to Celeste & Elise" since most of my subject matter focuses on them. Anyway, it was a dinosaur themed birthday party and it was SO MUCH FUN (I mean, for kids, of course...). My sister organized a dinosaur egg hunt, for which she drew huge dinosaur footprints in chalk around the yard and hid eggs with mini dinosaur puzzles inside. My favorite part, however, was watching the children beat the crap out of a T-Rex pinata... but you be the judge:



(I love how when it's Charlie's (in the green shirt) turn, he hands his bag to Elise to hold and she just takes it without asking any questions.)

On Friday night was Mike's birthday (well, at midnight, at least). I had a fabulously fun time and I think he did too. A handful of friends met over at my apartment for a drink before we headed out. The best part about it was that each friend who was there came from a different walk of my life - they each showed up individually but we united to raise hell as one. I had Lyssa, my friend from childhood; Camilla, representing my high school years; Emily, from college in Colorado; Mike, from post-college friend of friends; and John, from LBC and you know what I mean ;). I loved so much to have all these different people convene for a celebratory night. And Mike is probably laughing as he's reading this, because the night was supposed to be about him (and it was!!) but it just happened to be all of MY friends.

So this post wasn't very insightful or anything, but that's what I've been up to! I'm reading Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut, which hasn't been too inspiring, despite how great I've always heard Vonnegut is. I've also been hiking nearly everyday, which IS inspiring, but renders me too exhausted to apply that inspiration to any form of creativity, go figure. Maybe I'll draw or write something soon that I can post.

Until then, tata!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

A Letter to the Senator

I recently began supporting the ACLU. Sure, it may have been a result of being accosted by volunteers on the street (I'm such a sucker and can never say 'no'). But the fact that I have since actively participated in its pursuit of justice makes the 'how' and 'why' of my membership irrelevant (so I tell myself).

Anyway, I sent an email to Senator Barbara Boxer as part of a petition and I received the following response email today. Am I to assume that this is a generic, mass distributed response? Moreover, is it naive of me to hope that it isn't? Cuz I really want to believe that she actually agrees with me, personally, for some odd reason.

---------------------------------------

Dear Ms. Gocke:

Thank you for contacting me to express your support for legislation to reverse a recent Supreme Court decision on pay discrimination. I appreciate hearing from you, and I agree with you. I am proud to be an original co-sponsor of S.1843, the Fair Pay Restoration Act.

As you may know, on May 29, 2007, the Supreme Court ruled in Ledbetter vs. Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co., Inc. that workers can file suit for wage discrimination only within 180 days of the original discriminatory act. This outrageous decision undermines basic protection for workers against pay discrimination.

S.1843 seeks to correct the Court's decision. This bill would clarify current law by explicitly stating that workers can sue for pay discrimination any time they are issued a paycheck, no matter when the discrimination actually began.

A bill similar to S.1843 recently passed the House of Representatives. Please know that I will work to ensure that this legislation passes Congress and is signed into law.

Again, thank you for writing to me. Rest assured, I will keep fighting to eliminate pay discrimination.

Barbara Boxer
United States Senator

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Daily Conversations... and the ranting that follows.

Pet Peeve #147: the expression "it's all in your head"

Sure, I've used the expression. Maybe I only have a problem with certain expressions as a result of having a problem with the people (other than me) who use them. Regardless...

Of course it's "all in your head." This expression does nothing but state the obvious. Everything in existence is "all in your head." That's where thoughts come from. How could a single occurrence in this world be one thing or another if there were no 'heads' to characterize them as such.

I just heard someone say, "I'm hungry," to which another person smugly responded, "it's all in your head," as if that assessment of the situation was rocket science. You're hungry? Well sure, that is in fact "all in your head," because certain biological reactions are sending chemical messages to your brain, telling your brain that it should be experiencing hunger. Couldn't you say that if a person didn't have functionality of the brain, then they'd never be hungry? One's comprehension of any situation is "all in your head." Such an expression, which does nothing but identify a basic understanding, is simply redundant.

So I'm thoroughly unimpressed when one person rudely says to another, "it's all in your head," as though the statement provides some deeply enlightened perspective from which to view a situation (unless, of course, I'm the one saying it) - no shit, thoughts and feelings are "all in your head".

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Toyota Pro/Celebrity Race press/practice day

My PR agency had another press day for the Toyota Pro/Celebrity Race yesterday. It was quite a departure from the press weekend we had in Lancaster, being that there were 70 media outlets to manage, as opposed to the 8 or so that we had exclusively covering that first press day. Plus, yesterday's press/practice day actually took place at the Long Beach track where the celebrities will be racing in a week and a half, on Grand Prix weekend. It was a new experience for both the people racing and my PR team, who has never worked this annual event in the past. Here's a picture of me being important:


Yes, I was intentionally posing like that and yes, there is a whole photo shoot of me in various staged positions. However, it really is kind of a power trip to be using a headset all day. I'm not quite sure why, but it made me feel very important and necessary.

The area was swarming with press and everywhere you turned there was a camera (including my own, apparently... pictures are HERE). It was definitely a chaotic environment, but in a good, invigorating way. I was very pleasantly surprised and had a lot of fun, much like a couple weekends ago in Lancaster. It's these on-site, high energy events that make my job worthwhile. We now have two more press days to go, April 18 & 19, for the actual race. Despite what a headache all the prep work has been, I'm really enjoying each time it culminates, and I don't really want it to end in a week and a half.

In the late afternoon, after I was relieved of my duties, I left Long Beach and headed over to my sister's house in Hermosa Beach. She and my bro-in-law, Jimmy, got a puppy on Sunday - her first ever. He's a lab mix and we all agree that there are likely some pit bull genes scattered somewhere throughout that little body. He smells like you would hope every baby animal would smell and has such a sweet disposition. His name is Tiger... after Tiger Woods... because that's how much Jimmy likes golf. (Tiger is Jimmy's ultimate man-crush, with Kobe coming in a close 2nd.)

This little guy really makes me want my own puppy:

La Luz de HeyZues

I joined Marissa and Ethan at the La Luz de Jesus art gallery on Friday night for a look at the artwork of Yumiko Kayukawa. I took pictures of some of the pieces that I really liked, which you can find HERE. This one might be my favorite, despite it being one of her simplest compositions:


The subject matter of most of Kayukawa's paintings was a young Japanese woman, who bore an uncanny resemblance to the artist, pictured with various animals. It wasn't the type of artwork I would put in my house, for the most part (except for the one pictured above), but I definitely enjoyed viewing it at the gallery.

The gallery was nestled in the nook of a massive art, literature & knickknack gift shop; the inverse of the usual gallery/gift shop spatial realtionship. Being that there was so much to look at in the gift shop and I had very little time to peruse, I probably only got through about 10% of it. I'd like to go back at some point when I have more time to wander around.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Welcome to the Gocke Home

On a Friday afternoon fourteen years ago, when I was ten years old, my friend DeAna DiMeo and I arrived at my house after getting out of school early for a half day. At St. Brendan's elementary school and junior high, every first Friday of the month was a half day. Naturally, aside from weekends, these Fridays were the most treasured days of the school year. All any kid could ever think about on these days was getting home while the sun was high enough in the sky that they could relish in playing outside all afternoon, as if they had cheated the system or something.

That Friday, however, when I arrived home I saw my father's car in the driveway. Before my father retired he was lawyer and thus worked long hours; he was never home at this time of day, or generally any time before 7pm. But his car wasn't the only strange image that my brain was ambushed by that afternoon. As the carpool driver pulled up to my house, I simultaneously processed the fact that there was a 'for sale' sign on my front lawn.

No mention of this had been made to me, and my father surely knew such a blow would be devastating. I stared in disbelief as we exited the car. DeAna was pretty silent as we walked up my driveway and saw my father emerge from the front door. I think she may have asked, "did you know about this?" Who knows if I responded; my eyes were fixated on my father walking to meet us side by side with the ominous placard.

He explained that he knew this would be hard for me, but the time has come to sell my childhood home. It just didn't make sense to have such a big house for so few people. He could see the upset swallowing my face and escorted us inside, presumably to avoid public embarrassment among neighbors who he assumed were peering through their blinds, hoping to spot a juicy reaction of lament.

Fast forward fourteen years. I have a good job, but a job that doesn't cover my basic cost of living, nonetheless. (Public Relations is the type of job that you have to pay your dues in before you can expect to rake in any real bucks) I found myself in a bind over the weekend, a bind that I hadn't experienced in over two years, since being a poor college student. After some long thought and serious compromising of my pride, I called my father yesterday. I explained to him that I can't make rent this month and will have zero cash to live on for the next two weeks, until I get my next pay check. (This is after applying for a credit card and frantically following the phrase "make money quickly" all over the Internet, wherever it would lead me, mind you)

I took some guff about parking tickets and the irresponsibility of getting my car towed, and then endured some disappointed sentiments about how I should be pursuing another career more actively. After his peace had been spoken, my father agreed to directly deposit a chunk of money that should cover the rent I was short of and ideally carry me through the next two weeks. As was common in my childhood for all agreements between me and my father, a contract requiring my signature will likely follow in the near future.

So my financial worries were put at bay for the rest of the evening... until this morning. Just as moment ago, as I was walking into work, my cell phone rang. It was my father. He cut to the chase and explained that he went to the bank this morning to transfer the money but as it turns out, he doesn't have the money available to lend. This didn't completely surprise me since I know that he's put his life's savings into the beach house that he is currently remodeling. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you out. You're just going to have to figure this one out on your own." A twinge of resentment shot through my brain as it occurred to me that he may be trying to teach me a lesson via some good old fashioned tough love.

I sighed an anxiety ridden breath and told him, "thank you anyway." But much like the time fourteen years ago, when I first lost my sense of security and home, a moment of clarity shone through my foggy head, as my father gleefully shouted, "April Fools!!"

Yes folks, welcome to the Springtime of my childhood. Over the years my father has gone to great lengths to instill fear and uncertainty in his children on this single day of the year. There's no doubt in my mind that this is merely a way to relive the days of his youth when he was a hooligan, playing mischievous pranks on people - god help us if I'm wrong and he actually just takes sick pleasure in our defeat. (The fact that my father had told me yesterday to be sure to answer my phone if he calls today makes me wonder how premeditated this prank actually was; had he been formulating his plan the whole time I was spilling my woes to him?)

Other April Fools Day jokes he's used were good, but never measured up to the 'for sale' sign. A couple years ago, when he had a girlfriend, they 'went to Vegas to elope.' Other times there were serious medical injuries. But most often these pranks of his failed since, ultimately, my father created a monster. One of us would answer the other's call only to realize that we were battling to get our respective pranks out first. As was the case with the 'elope' prank, we both scurried to set up our back stories. He obviously didn't buy it when I told him that I arrived home to find he'd been robbed and his coveted big screen TV was gone.

And what's worse is that I've let this filter over into other relationships in my life. I've told new boyfriends that I'm actually in a serious relationship, which I'd been hiding. I've told friends I was in the emergency room, and roommates that their cats were missing. Who the hell am I? Whoever I am, my father has made me not right in the head come this particular day of the year.