Centuries before computers came to be part of our daily life, Ethiopians used the very system computers use today to compute. Amazing! :)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
M-E-H-E-T....?
Today I spent some time with my father helping him translate my grandfather's (my mom's dad) autobiography. While doing this he told me lots and lots of stories about the family, which I absolutely love. While doing so, I got to asking him about the birth of me and my brother. I've asked my mother several times to tell me about those times, and although she does tell me things, it's never really as thorough or detailed as when my father tells stories. My father told me about her pregnancies and the births. I found out I was an average weight and came pretty much on time, but my brother was late and she had to be induced...and he was almost 10 pounds when born. Wowzers! I also asked him if she had any quirky cravings while pregnant. She didn't have the weird cravings that you hear of women always having (like ice cream with pickles, lol), but apparently she ate enough pizzas and watermelons to feed a small country. No wonder I love eating those things! lol jk, I don't love them THAT much.
After learning of more tidbits of that nature, I asked him why he and my mother decided to give me my name: Mehetabel. I was wondering this because no one (except for my friend, Alicia) calls me by that name. NO ONE. And I'd say 85% of my family doesn't even know that's my first name. Everyone in my family just knows me by my nickname, Metty. And then my friends call me by my middle name, Rahel. No one in my family (except for grandfather) calls me by that name either. But at least people call me by that name. With Mehetabel, only one person calls me by that.
A little history of the origin of the name. My name, Mehetabel and it's several variations, comes from the Bible (Genesis 36:39) and means 'God makes happy' or 'God does good' in Hebrew. It is basically mentioned in passing in a genealogy. Apparently it was a name that was fairly popular among Puritans during the 17th century, but by the 19th century it was very rarely a name given.
Growing up, I absolutely hated my name and would constantly be upset at my parents for giving me that name. I didn't like my name because:
1. It was really uncommon.
2. No one could ever pronounce it right, although it's not hard.
3. Kids would make fun of my name.
4. NO ONE ever called me by that name, so I had no connection to it.
Numbers 1-3 is what bothered me the most when I was younger, but I just realized today when I was talking to my father, another reason (and probably the biggest reason) why I didn't like it...and that's number 4. I really did not OWN my name. The only time I heard my first name out loud was either during roll call in class, when I went to the doctor's office, or when a telemarketer would call and ask for me all while completely butchering the pronunciation. Because of this, my name felt like a burden to me - like I was cursed with it. My dad did tell me that at the time of my mother's pregnancy, they liked the uniqueness of the name and what it meant, and had it set in their minds that if I was a girl I would get that name. (My father initially wanted to name me Amrote, meaning my beauty, but my mom opposed as there was already someone in the family with that name.) Apparently though, soon after I was born, my mom realized that she was tired of explaining the pronunciation and meaning of my name, that she started calling me Metty and it caught on with the rest of my family. I honestly can't recall a time when my parents addressed me by my first name.
Fast-forward about 18 years later, and I started to embrace my name and it's uniqueness. As I met people in college, I told some my first name and many loved it. This helped me appreciate the beauty of the name. Fast-forward a couple more years later, and I really started to love it and would have no problem telling people my name. And now, I feel like I own the name. It's mine and I love the fact that very few people on this earth have it. The funny thing is I never ever wanted to legally change my name, as my parents told me I could if I wanted to. I just felt like it would be a slap in my parents' face, and ironically I loved the fact that they took the time out to give me a meaningful name, and not just name me Ashley or something. No offense to all the Ashleys out there in the world! lol If I have children in the future, I would like to give them unique names, too...but of course, nothing TOO unique. lol
After learning of more tidbits of that nature, I asked him why he and my mother decided to give me my name: Mehetabel. I was wondering this because no one (except for my friend, Alicia) calls me by that name. NO ONE. And I'd say 85% of my family doesn't even know that's my first name. Everyone in my family just knows me by my nickname, Metty. And then my friends call me by my middle name, Rahel. No one in my family (except for grandfather) calls me by that name either. But at least people call me by that name. With Mehetabel, only one person calls me by that.
A little history of the origin of the name. My name, Mehetabel and it's several variations, comes from the Bible (Genesis 36:39) and means 'God makes happy' or 'God does good' in Hebrew. It is basically mentioned in passing in a genealogy. Apparently it was a name that was fairly popular among Puritans during the 17th century, but by the 19th century it was very rarely a name given.
Growing up, I absolutely hated my name and would constantly be upset at my parents for giving me that name. I didn't like my name because:
1. It was really uncommon.
2. No one could ever pronounce it right, although it's not hard.
3. Kids would make fun of my name.
4. NO ONE ever called me by that name, so I had no connection to it.
Numbers 1-3 is what bothered me the most when I was younger, but I just realized today when I was talking to my father, another reason (and probably the biggest reason) why I didn't like it...and that's number 4. I really did not OWN my name. The only time I heard my first name out loud was either during roll call in class, when I went to the doctor's office, or when a telemarketer would call and ask for me all while completely butchering the pronunciation. Because of this, my name felt like a burden to me - like I was cursed with it. My dad did tell me that at the time of my mother's pregnancy, they liked the uniqueness of the name and what it meant, and had it set in their minds that if I was a girl I would get that name. (My father initially wanted to name me Amrote, meaning my beauty, but my mom opposed as there was already someone in the family with that name.) Apparently though, soon after I was born, my mom realized that she was tired of explaining the pronunciation and meaning of my name, that she started calling me Metty and it caught on with the rest of my family. I honestly can't recall a time when my parents addressed me by my first name.
Fast-forward about 18 years later, and I started to embrace my name and it's uniqueness. As I met people in college, I told some my first name and many loved it. This helped me appreciate the beauty of the name. Fast-forward a couple more years later, and I really started to love it and would have no problem telling people my name. And now, I feel like I own the name. It's mine and I love the fact that very few people on this earth have it. The funny thing is I never ever wanted to legally change my name, as my parents told me I could if I wanted to. I just felt like it would be a slap in my parents' face, and ironically I loved the fact that they took the time out to give me a meaningful name, and not just name me Ashley or something. No offense to all the Ashleys out there in the world! lol If I have children in the future, I would like to give them unique names, too...but of course, nothing TOO unique. lol
Odd story: In 6th grade, a substitute teacher asked me if I was named after a cat. I had NO IDEA what the heck she was talking about (she was a weird lady, lol). A few years ago, I randomly remembered that incident and decided to look it up. She wasn't as crazy as I thought...there IS a cat with that name. In 1916, a newspaper columnist named Don Marquis would write a fictional social commentary piece six days a week, which was originally intended as a space filler. It was called archy and mehitabel. Archy was a cockroach and his best friend was Mehitabel, a cat. The two of them would share their daily adventures in a 'satiric commentary on daily life in the city during the 1910s and 1920s.' In 1957, there was even a short-lived Broadway musical based on them. WHODATHUNK?? lol
Sunday, January 31, 2010
'I forgot he was black'
So, on Wednesday night as many people did, I watched President Obama's State of the Union address. I thought he did very well. Afterwards, I watch MSNBC with my parents, and Chris Matthews was sharing his opinion on the speech. After lots of praise for the President, he said the following:
"I forgot he was black tonight for an hour. He's gone a long way to become a leader of this country and past so much history in just a year or two. I mean it's something we don't even think about. I was watching and I said, wait a minute, he's an African-American guy in front of a bunch of other white people and there he is, President of the United States, and we've completely forgotten that tonight - completely forgotten it."
I remember him saying that and also remember initially, for a brief moment, taking it as a positive thing (which he intended it to be!), but a few minutes later, a thought dawned on me. I was thinking to myself, Why do we have to forget that he's Black? Before I could really give it much thought, I got distracted and forgot about it. Then yesterday, I was reading random stuff on the internet as I usually do, and I ran across this article. Now, although I do think about race issues quite often, I don't usually start discussions about it because honestly, to me it just seems like a complicated conversation that never ends. With that said, I still don't think race should be something that's ignored. The more we talk about it in an open and positive way, the more accepting we become of each other.
The article I found basically addressed my initial thoughts after Chris Matthews' statement. I agree with the article's author in the fact that his statement (which I'm sure many people have thought the same way before) makes it seem like the fact that you forget President Obama is black makes you take him more seriously as a leader. But at the same time, I believe that statement came from a positive place, with positive intentions, because last year at that time his race was an issue, but this time it really wasn't.
Does his remark, and ones similar to his that have been said lately, bring us closer to a "post-racial nation" or does it take us a few steps back?
Are we transcending race?
"I forgot he was black tonight for an hour. He's gone a long way to become a leader of this country and past so much history in just a year or two. I mean it's something we don't even think about. I was watching and I said, wait a minute, he's an African-American guy in front of a bunch of other white people and there he is, President of the United States, and we've completely forgotten that tonight - completely forgotten it."
I remember him saying that and also remember initially, for a brief moment, taking it as a positive thing (which he intended it to be!), but a few minutes later, a thought dawned on me. I was thinking to myself, Why do we have to forget that he's Black? Before I could really give it much thought, I got distracted and forgot about it. Then yesterday, I was reading random stuff on the internet as I usually do, and I ran across this article. Now, although I do think about race issues quite often, I don't usually start discussions about it because honestly, to me it just seems like a complicated conversation that never ends. With that said, I still don't think race should be something that's ignored. The more we talk about it in an open and positive way, the more accepting we become of each other.
The article I found basically addressed my initial thoughts after Chris Matthews' statement. I agree with the article's author in the fact that his statement (which I'm sure many people have thought the same way before) makes it seem like the fact that you forget President Obama is black makes you take him more seriously as a leader. But at the same time, I believe that statement came from a positive place, with positive intentions, because last year at that time his race was an issue, but this time it really wasn't.
Does his remark, and ones similar to his that have been said lately, bring us closer to a "post-racial nation" or does it take us a few steps back?
Are we transcending race?
Friday, January 22, 2010
What I Didn't Know 10 Years Ago
Ten years ago, I was 14, and I was starting the second half of my freshman year of high school.
- That being a teenager is not as fun as it sounded.- What I wanted my career to be.
- That college would be SO MUCH better than high school.
- How to dress.
- How NOT to be shy.
- Why guys can be such jerks (I still don't! lol)
- That time is precious.
- That I would know as much as I do now.
- That being in your twenties is sometimes like being a teenager but on another level.
- That my parents would ACTUALLY move to Nashville.
- That it doesn't matter what other people think of me, as long as I'm comfortable in my own skin.
- That eventually I'll be pretty comfortable in my own skin. :)
- That 7 years later I would FINALLY go to Ethiopia...and Egypt, too!
- That peanut butter is amazing! (I used to really not like peanut butter.)
- That my body is capable of doing the things that it does now.
- That I would be living with my parents 10 years later. lol
- That I would live through some of the worst tragedies.
- That the best friendships are the ones with the least expectations.
- That Michael Jackson wouldn't be around forever. lol
- That life doesn't get easier.
- That I would be on a swim team a year later.
- That 10 years later I'd be completely single and NO WHERE near marriage.
- That certain not-so-good habits that I have will continue on with me.
- That very few of the dreams I had will be fulfilled.
- That I would eventually have the kind of friends that I always wanted.
- That my need to collect random things is just a phase.
- That just because some little thing goes wrong, it's not the end of the world...blame the hormones. lol
- That being in your twenties doesn't feel as old as it sounds...sometimes. :-P
To be continued...
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I Never Knew...
Wow, 2 weeks without a post. Long time. I have a feeling, though, that these next upcoming days will be post-filled. Stay tuned!
Anyway, this past weekend, I was in Northern Virginia for my cousin's wedding. During that time, my parents and I stayed at my paternal grandmother's house. As many times as I've been to her house, I never really paid attention to all the meaningful things she had - all staring at me on shelves. Because I had always seen them since I was little, I stopped noticing them a LONG TIME AGO. All these things were just THERE to me. Then this weekend something came upon me and I started asking her what things where, where they came from, and why she had them. Little did I know that these "knickknacks" were all collections from her and my grandfather's travels (as Ethiopian government officials), old gifts given to them, and heirlooms passed down from my great-grandparents. I don't relish over material things, but I like saving some meaningful things to me. Good thing my grandmother did that with some of her stuff. It acts as a visual supplement to stories I hear and helps me connect (in one way) to my grandfather and great-grandparents that I was not fortunate enough to get to know. Right now, I'm still in the process of collecting more facts about some of the things I found at my grandmother's house, as I did not have enough time to do so this weekend. I have included a link to view pictures of some of these tokens. Some I don't remember at the moment when and where they're from, but I will update them later on.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
CHANGE
"People don't change." Right?
Don't think so. Saying people don't change is the same as saying people can't learn. When you learn something new, it changes you. It changes what you know, how you think, and and how you approach things. This is a change right?
We are always changing; everyday we change. However, we always stay the same. We always generally stay the same in the way we think and process information, but as we grow and experience new things daily, how we interpret things changes. Everyday adds a new layer to our "same" self.
Change can also be looked at in terms of insight/learning vs. bettering/"fixing" oneself. What I said above mostly has to do with the former. The latter - modifying one's self - has to do with the adage, "People CAN'T change."
Really? I think that's a dangerous way of thinking. We all have our personalities that we've had since birth, but believing we can't change basically encourages us to accept our weaknesses and faults.
Some think that people absolutely can't change. I don't mean breaking someone of a bad habit, which is generally always possible. But people are talking about someone fundamentally changing the way they think and act...they believe it's impossible. If you are an addict, you will always be an addict. If you're a racist, you will always be a racist. Etc. You can just control your actions and adapt to what you want to be. Is this true?
First, what is change? What does it mean when you change? I think it means that we become different in some way...we make a transformation on some scale. Change requires us to be out of our comfort zone. Change can be for better or for worse. Change is usually uncomfortable because it disturbs our control over outcomes as we're used to. In the end, we can make changes to ourselves, but fundamentally - we are who we are.
Technically, I know it's impossible for people to completely change, because that requires the person to be destroyed. People can change aspects of themselves, but most people don't. You have to WANT to change, but most people don't want to, or are too fearful to do so. Also, I think our society has made it easy to put blame on other things (government, race, sex, religion, fate, etc.) for our problems instead of taking responsibility. Most people don't like change of any sort and like to stay in their comfort zone, so why would they change themselves?
THEN, there's the other common saying: "You can't change people." I always have believed this statement to be true, although it can be upsetting...especially when you really want to change a loved one for the better and you can't. The only thing we can do for others is influence, motivate, and guide change. The rest is up to them. Or we can just accept them for what they are. Lately, I keep having to remind myself this with certain personal situations in order to prevent myself from getting disappointed.
This whole thing is complicated, and all of this popped in my head today because I was thinking of personal things dealing with change, but also I saw something that said, "Technology changes; humans don't." That quote got all my thoughts brewing...and this was just a tidbit of what came out. There's still plenty more swirling around in my head, so I'm surprised it didn't come out all confusing, and if it did...well, that's how my brain works. :-)
Anyway you look at it...change is inevitable, change is constant, and change is here to stay.
Right? :-)
Friday, January 1, 2010
What a Crazy New Years Eve Party!!
Just kidding.
Last night, it was just the four of us and our dogs sitting in front of the TV flipping through channels. The dogs asleep next to the space heater, and us in our blankets on the sofa and chairs. All of a sudden at 10:15...BAM. A power outtage. So we lit several candles in the house. Pretty soon the house was smelling good cuz all the candles we have are scented. Unfortunately, it looked like all of us weren't gonna be able to make it to see the ball drop...if the electricity came back on in time...because my parents were starting to fall asleep. The darkness, quietness, and lateness was not a good combination for them. lol We tried playing a word game and after 15 minutes, that died. After a bit of chatting (and some snoring) the electricity came back on at 11:15. Luckily, we were able to continue our yearly tradition of watching the ball drop, but this time we decided to check out the guitar drop in downtown Nashville instead, since it was the first year they did that. Right after that, we all went straight to bed.
Sounds like a lame night, right? Not. I love being around family and friends that I love and just spending quality time together. I'm not usually around friends at this time of year, and hopefully one of these years I'll have a good new years eve spent with friends...whether it's staying in or going out. Preferably the former. Yeah, yeah...I'm turning into an old fart. lol
Happy New Year. Hoping this new decade treats us all well.
It is now 2010. This means I've lived through 24 new year's celebrations. When I was younger (like late teens, early 20s...gosh that makes me sound so old, lol) I always wanted to do "something cool" for new years eve. Like everyone else my age I wanted to hang out with friends and party or go somewhere cool. That never happened. Funny, looking back though, I realized that I never actively planned to do anything, then I'd get "bummed out" when new years eve day comes along. However, as soon as the afternoon/evening gets near, I'm completely content. Why is that? Because I'm with my family. Even last night, I brought this up with my brother. I was like, "Do you realize we never do anything 'cool' for new years eve? But I like it...just sitting at home and relaxing." He completely agreed. Especially now that we're older, I feel like it's more our scene...to just stay in. I am not saying that I will never go out and celebrate. I'm sure I will some time in the future if any plans arise, but I am completely happy just sitting at home with my family...laughing, talking, and watching the NYC ball drop on TV at the end of the night like we do every year.
Last night, it was just the four of us and our dogs sitting in front of the TV flipping through channels. The dogs asleep next to the space heater, and us in our blankets on the sofa and chairs. All of a sudden at 10:15...BAM. A power outtage. So we lit several candles in the house. Pretty soon the house was smelling good cuz all the candles we have are scented. Unfortunately, it looked like all of us weren't gonna be able to make it to see the ball drop...if the electricity came back on in time...because my parents were starting to fall asleep. The darkness, quietness, and lateness was not a good combination for them. lol We tried playing a word game and after 15 minutes, that died. After a bit of chatting (and some snoring) the electricity came back on at 11:15. Luckily, we were able to continue our yearly tradition of watching the ball drop, but this time we decided to check out the guitar drop in downtown Nashville instead, since it was the first year they did that. Right after that, we all went straight to bed.
Sounds like a lame night, right? Not. I love being around family and friends that I love and just spending quality time together. I'm not usually around friends at this time of year, and hopefully one of these years I'll have a good new years eve spent with friends...whether it's staying in or going out. Preferably the former. Yeah, yeah...I'm turning into an old fart. lol
Happy New Year. Hoping this new decade treats us all well.
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