Tag Archives: china

Happiness Lies in the Absence of Choice

Every once in a while, I find myself going back to lectures on YouTube and Ted.com, remind myself that I should do this more often, and then completely forget about doing so.  Tonight is one of those nights.

This is a 20 min (21:20) by Dan Gilbert called “Why are we happy?” based on his book Stumbling on Happiness.  [Given how we waste so much of our time, this is a precious 20 minutes indeed.]

Dan talks about choice and the concept of synthetic happiness.  Synthetic happiness is when we didn’t get what we want.  Here’s an example I just made up:

You’re at a ice cream parlor and ask the server which ice cream to get (let’s pretend you can’t try them).  The guy recommends peach or pecan.  You pick the pecan but are wondering what the peach tasted like.  You’re happiness level is influx because you’re doubting your choice.  On the other hand, you ask the guy the same question, and he says peach or pecan but we’re out of peach.  Well, you say, get me the pecan then, you eat the ice cream, and you think, hmmmm… that was pretty darn good.

We learn in marketing that there is a balance between giving people choices & giving people too many choices, and there is an optimal number of choices but we can’t always control the market… or platforms.  What immediately came to mind, especially because I work in the social gaming industry is this:

Compared to the number of games on the iPhone, there are far less choices on Facebook, both in terms of genres & choices in each genre.  Giving people a select number of choices, it’s easier for them to choose.  Facebook has the top 20 games (you can go down by genre if you like, but I’m guessing most people don’t).  However, iPhone gives users top 25 and 50 in each genre.  That’s 19 subcategories under gaming and 20 if you count the “all games” category.  Holy smokes.

Is there a correlation between the limitation of choice and how much game developers are making/users are spending?  Zynga was valued at over $3 billion this year.  Playfish was bought for ~$400 million.  Playdom’s last valuation (in November, aka eons ago in interweb time) $260 million.  Top iPhone developers?  Confession: I don’t know.  I’m taking an educated guess in that none of the iPhone devs are getting such an astonishing valuation.

Yes, lots of factors play into this analogy, and I’m completely over-simplifying things.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m wrong.  The influx of choice is a major determining factor in how popular a game stays, how well it monetizes, and how many downloads.  [It's one of the reasons, the majority of iPhone games have such a short shelf life; they're constantly being replaced.]

Okay, we’ve looked at ice cream.  We’ve looked at gaming.  Let’s zoom out.  To life.

This thought leads to my bold statement: if a poll was taken of the self-described happiness level of people in China and people in the US, I bet more China would have a higher happiness rating (and as it continues to expand, that rating will slowly drop down to meet that the United States).

Why?  There are fewer choices in China (well, not in current Chinese cities but on average).  In types of food.  Politics.  Parking spots, if you’re one of the rising middle class with a car (horrible idea).

Because, in sum, there are less choices to be made, there’s also less buyer’s remorse.  The absence of this increases the overall happiness quotient.

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So. Without physical limitations to our choices, is there a way to artificially create boundaries in our lives that will help increase our ability to control our own happiness?  Do you believe choice is the evil villain in the pursuit of happiness?

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I understand appealing to emotions, but why appeal with this picture?

I understand appealing to emotions, but why appeal with this picture?

I’ve always wanted to join the Peace Corps and fight poverty and corruption on the ground level.  It’s not out of fear that I’ve hesitated.  Fear of seeing so much suffering, danger of being captured as an American aid worker or loneliness in such a huge change in lifestyle.  I have great admiration for those who do step out of their environment to help others.

I just don’t necessarily believe that aid workers are doing much long term good. Most of the relief that the NGOs are delivering tend to be short term.  Of course, children need immediate vaccination, and northern countries of Sub-Saharan Africa need food and shelter to survive through the civil wars and food shortages. But how much are the NGOs providing in terms of long term industrial development? Infrastructure building? Skills training and education? Sometimes, it seems that major US and Chinese corporations are doing more in road and communications development than any nonprofit agency.  Yes, they’re doing it for selfish reasons but what lovely side effects.

At the end of the day, I personally feel like such volunteerism leads more to egotistical superiority than any sustainable development for the people I could have helped.

I’ve left my comfortable life to live in a mosquito infested village, helping vaccinate people against malaria and educating women about HIV prevention.  What have you done lately?

Or this picture...

Or this picture...

Well, yes, you have been altruistic/self-sacrificing to help those in need.  But what happens to them after you leave?  Are you going to continue keeping in touch with the families you’ve aided?  What will they do if someone doesn ‘t come to replace your position?

The process just seems so convoluted.  You join the Peace Corps and think you’re aiding some poor bloke in Ethiopia or Malaysia or Nicaragua (not that there aren’t programs in more developed nations).  The NGOs operate the best they can within the web of political agendas.  Developing nations are struggling to provide the basic services, while fighting guerilla movements/militants, debt/interest, corruption and a whole host of other problems.  The guerilla warriors are revelling in their power and not at all helping ‘those they represent.’ OECDs are lending money to these nations with strict stipulations that don’t lead to sustainable development.  All the while, they’re making money off incredible loans and interest rates.

Conclusion: the people who really need aid are fucked.  They don’t have a voice, and all the other parties can’t get on the same page.  And now with a global recession and OECDs worrying about their own debt and development problems, who’s going to think about the starving and dying in Kenya, Brasil or Kyrgyzstan?

I mean our Salvation Army and Goodwill donations have actually dessimated the textile industry in Zambia.  How fucked up is that?

How do we get out of this vicious cycle?  How do we focus on long term development, education and job training instead of the basic necessities of food, vaccination and water?  What can I do to form a better solution?

And not more images like this?

And not more images like this?

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Is Anybody Listening.

I’m so incredibly lucky.

I went to a lunch called “Conducting a Job Search in a Tough Economyyesterday sponsored by the Northern California Penn ClubPeter Jacobs, a Wharton alum, introduced a framework to help us outshine the competition during job search.  What struck me the most was the age distribution in the room.  More than half were middle aged professional, who has recently been laid off or their contract ended, and they’re not sure where to go next.  One woman had specific expertise in a niche HR and payroll software, which was squeezed out of the market by larger players.  She’s not quite sure what to do next, or how to be competitive in an inundated job market.

The YouTube video above brings light to the stress the economy is having on high school students at Village Academy High School in Pomona, California and was recently mentioned in a speech by Barack Obama.  As their families struggle daily to put food on the table and make rent, many about 4 months behind or have already had their homes foreclosed, the students couldn’t help but worry about their futures.  They’re not asking “How will I pay for college?”  It’s heartbreaking to hear much more short term questions.  “Where will we live?”  “How will my parents support us?”

[The Big Picture, The Boston Globe]

I can’t image being a recent or graduating college student trying to enter a job market with thousands of workers for hundreds of positions, if that.  Or being a middle age or retiring professional with years of experience, forced to compete with younger, cheaper candidates.  Or being a parent wondering how I could support my family and children, while trying to make mortgage and keep my job, if I’m still lucky enough to have one.

I am so incredibly lucky.  To be able to work and put food on the table and money in the bank.  To have enough experience to find a great position.  To be young enough to adapt if needed.  To have choices.  And as a quick plug, to be working on a start up that helps people stand out in this job market by having dynamic online resume profiles and resources like a powerful job search engine and career advice.

Most importantly, I’m so incredibly lucky to have such an amazing support system (thanks, you guys!).

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Also from The Big Picture blog, this is a snap taken in Hefei, Anhui Province in China.  It’s my hometown.

Thousands of job-seekers flock to a job fair in Hefei, Anhui province, China on March 1, 2009. At least 20 million of China’s 130 million migrant workers have become jobless after tens of thousands of labor-intensive export-oriented factories closed due to the global financial crisis, and job training schemes for migrant workers are springing up around China, Xinhua News Agency reported. (REUTERS/Jianan Yu) #

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Hello World!

My cousin and me

My cousin and me

I’ve taken a bit of a hiatus from blogging (in case you haven’t noticed).  I’ve taken a break from life as well.  Since the new year, I parted with SHIFT, which is still an amazing PR Agency; took a long, needed trip to China; popped by New York for a long weekend, more like almost a week; and am working with some cool guys on a new start-up.

Birds Nest in north Beijing

Bird's Nest in north Beijing

You can click on my Facebook badge to see my pictures from China and New York.  Those are all taken by my Canon.  The iPhone pictures are buried a couple of pages down in my Tumblr.

New York Public Library, Main Branch

New York Public Library, Main Branch

As for the start-up, we’re hoping to launch in the next few months.  I’ll be posting more about it, when we’re further along.  Totally ping me for the private beta.

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Chinese Ugly Betty (on upper left)

Chinese Ugly Betty (on upper left)

Just in the last two months, I feel like I’ve grown years.  My finances are finally somewhere near the normal rate (I actually went to New York for 5 days and bought nothing!).  My food intake is healthier and more punctual. I’ve bonded with my relatives and cousins as an adult. I just feel more settled.  For the first time since I turned 19, I’m ready to face turning 25 later this year.

My 3 week trip to China sparked some of these changes.  China, in its adolescent years, is a completely different experience.  It’s like 1950s US, with thriving suburbs and more private cars, huge consumerism and still a nacent marketing culture to boot.  One of the most popular shows is the Chinese version of Ugly Betty, really cute.  But what’s astounding is that the entire show is sponsored by Dove, with (it’s an ad company) Dove commercials and a Dove logo at the bottom of the screen during the entire show.  And it’s totally accepted.  Would something like this fly in the US?

BTW, having an iPhone has been a huge life saver internationally.  Sure, I had to pay 50 cents per text and $2.29/min phone time, but when in a pinch, it definitely worked.  And it’s how I found out that my older cousin had his first child a week after I returned home.  It’s a girl.  I’m officially an aunt, or as close to one as I can be. :-)  (I’m bugging my cousin for pics now.)

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Setting off 100K fire crackers to blast away the bad luck from yesteryear

Setting off 100K fire crackers to blast away the bad luck from yesteryear

It feels really amazing to write again.  I’ve missed it.  Didn’t know how to restart.  And finally decided to start writing.  Hi again! :)

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NaNoWriMo- Day 1

Hi.  I know I haven’t written much in the last two weeks.  All the anticipation of the novel and furiously reading as much as I can, has left me pretty tired and mentally worn out.

BUT today is the official start of National Novel Writing Month, and it’s going pretty well actually.  I’ve already penned 1761 words!  Not all of them are great, but I’m just worried about getting everything down right now and worrying about editing later.

If you’d like to support my efforts, it’s not too late to donate to NaNoWriMo and fund me going to the NIght of Writing Dangerously.  Just visit www.firstgiving.com/janyxu and contribute what you can. Thanks!

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Without further ado, here’s a lot excerpt from what I have down:

I’m not sure if my earliest memory is real or a fabricated mix from stories my parents used to tell and latent memories of my childhood that coagulated into a single dream. I was about one and half, maybe two. My mom worked at the local watch factory in Hefei, Anhui- one of the poorer provinces of China but close to the mountains and great at making tea. She left early in the morning every day to ride the thirty odd minutes to go to work. I’m sure our neighborhood was colorful with bricks and green trees, not too far from where my father worked at the local hospital/university. But in my memory or dream, the scenery grayed out.

We lived on the first floor of a three story building (maybe it was two), and in Hefei that meant cold winters and wet summers. The humidity would always soak up on the concrete floors in the rooms. Enough that my mom would have to mope the floor of its wetness. At some point, I had a crib, but I remember sleeping on the bed with my parents. They’d put a chair next to my side, so that I wouldn’t accidentally roll of the bed during sleep. I tended to toss and turn a lot. Still do, in fact.

On that particular day, I felt myself waking up as my mom quietly gathered her things to prepare for work. I didn’t open my eyes, lest she figure out that I was awake. The muffled swishes of fabric let me know that she was getting dressed in the far corner of the room, so that she wouldn’t wake me up. She grabbed her keys from the dresser next to the door, tip-toed down the hallway and as silently as possible, opened and shut our squeaky door.

I was one and a half (maybe two) and thought she was leaving forever. As soon as that door shut, I was off the bed, running across the room and after her, already on the bike and pedaling away. In my dream I would keep running. She was half way to work, and I was quickly losing ground, but I couldn’t let her get away. She was my mommy. I loved her. Why was she leaving me? I couldn’t figure it out. Somewhere in my head, I knew I was in college, in the US and comfortable in my extra-long twin sized bed in my fashion magazine covered dorm. But that thought was far far away. All I could think about was my mother.

In the distant, I knew my father had woken up to my screaming and movement. He was running after me to keep me at home and let my mother leave. Finally, she parked her biked outside the rakes in a glass-windowed factory building and noticed my snot-covered, sobbing face. She reached out to hold me and told me that she had to go to work. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to be with me. My parents exchanged worried looks before she handed me off to him. She went inside. I had lost.

My father was a grad student at the time (MD not PhD; he’d get that later in Germany), and though he worked long hours both taking classes and working, he slept in late, so it was his responsibility to take care of me, while my mom went off to work. I was an early riser. I’d wake up and immediately wanted to get up and start my day. But my dad wasn’t like that at all. He’d always drag me back into bed and hug and cuddle me, while I struggled to get away. Finally, I’d relent and let me just hold me, while I laid there wide-eyed and bored. After a while, I got used to it and would wake up and go back to sleep in his arms. I guess that’s where I get my habits today. I love spending the whole day in bed, chilling out and being totally relaxed. At any point, I could conveniently have a snack, watch TV, write, read or take a nap. Sure, it sounds slothful to many, but it’s also very convenient. And since I grew up a relatively clean person, my bed’s almost never made and always clean. The only things that adorn them are my duvet, two large pillows, my cell phone charger and cell phone and my laptop- a virtual mother that lulls me to sleep every night after episodes of The Boondocks or some mindless movie.

After I woke up, I couldn’t quite tell if I remembered the dream as a memory replayed or it was just a dream. I decided to confirm the story with my parents. The real version was almost eerily identical. I had woken up to find my mother leaving, had ran outside after her. She was, in fact, getting ready to ride her bike, but I didn’t by any means chase her to the factory. That didn’t make any sense, since I have no idea how a toddler could run far enough that she’d ride a bike for half an hour. That’s like three miles? Instead, she was riding off, when she heard a screaming toddler running after her- me. So she stopped, held and cooed me until I calmed down. She’d try to leave, but every time she let go, I’d start my ear drum piercing screaming again. Finally, she was already half an hour late, and had to go get my dad to hold me down as she rode away.

I swore to them that they’d never told me that story before. So how did I possibly know that it happened? Did my dream start innocently and some aspect of the memory sparked a dusty, unused nugget in my brain? Or was it totally coincidental? Maybe my parents did tell me that story, but I’d simply remembered the details and not them telling me. Whatever the rationale, it bothers me that during my second year of college, I was suddenly having this dream.

Of course, I didn’t want to grow up. As much as most of the students around me were planning their futures and taking heavy loads of finance or mechanical engineering, I was more interested in running the hell away and as fast as possible. Taxes? No thank you! Bills and getting married, living up to social expectations and living with the fact that most adults don’t have more than 10 very close friends? God no! I didn’t, and still don’t, understand why so many young adults race to erase the “young” prefix. I loved it. It meant that I had potential, but there was nothing having to do with living up to it. I didn’t have to prove anything because that was for the future. Right now, I’d just gotten into one of the best schools in the country, certainly the best business school and am comfortable enough with my environment that I just wanted to enjoy life. Not worry about this huge future looming overhead. The judgments of aptitude and worth, along with a worried expectedness.

That was probably what brought on the dream.

I’m in a very unique position, you see. I always tell people that if it hadn’t been for the Communist Revolution, that I wouldn’t exist. I know very little about my family history, but from what I did know, my mom’s side was fairly well-off and from a good sized, little town. Her great grandmother had been disgraced because her husband died, so she was subsequently sent back to her own family. It was a big no-no back in those days and deemed her a widow and lowered her family rank. But all in all, they had money, and from an influence of Chinese soap operas, a large courtyard and lots of decorated, octangular windows. On the contrary, my father’s family was largely from the farms. Many of my grandmother’s 7 other siblings still dwell in the little towns that dot the mountain range eight hours drive west of Hefei. The trek was retardedly slow and up dangerous, narrow mountain passes that almost meant my certain doom years after my parents met, married and had me. So theoretically, without the equalizing forces of Mao and reeducation in the country, my parents would have no chances of meeting. Actually, fate is fairly ironic. At the time, my mom worked in a watch factory and my dad was getting his MD. They basically switched social classes.

But I couldn’t, at the time, confirm or deny the story. It’s just what made logical sense in my head. I’ve moved around enough at a very young age, that I could probably make up any type of bullshit that I wanted to. The kids from the sheltered German school have no idea what life was like in China. Neither did the elementary school students from the very Texan public school called Mark Twain. In fact, with them, I would talk in German or Chinese and confuse the fuck out of them. I didn’t. I was a good child. But I could.

In high school, I realized exactly how nerdy I was. Before then, I was blissfully happy, if not ignorant, and didn’t care. So what if I didn’t know who MC Hammer or Moesha was? I had Mozart and Beethoven. Liszt throwing a glove at Beethoven and their subsequent feud. Did Moesha have that?

Yeah. NERD. Like not Pharrell N-E-R-D. But NNNNEEEEERRRRRDDDDDDDD…DDDAAAAHHHH….

Then, I moved to Philadelphia for college, where no one really knew me. (Thank God… err if I believed in you). I didn’t have to be nerd. Among nerds, and the errant rich kid who went to Penn instead of snobby Puck Frinceton or Harvard… or Yale, I could be anyone. That excited me.

Until sophomore year. When I didn’t want to grow up. And didn’t understand who I was. And didn’t want to grow up.

Of course, I did have to. Grow up that is. And I’m on the West Coast and non-the-smarter, but I’m a good bullshitter. Always have been, which is why I got into Penn. Which is why I never spent more than an hour on homework. Which is why I didn’t do so well at Penn. I got what I wanted out of the experience, and I’m happy.

From where you’re sitting, I’m a sarcastic, somewhat schizophrenic nerd, who just confessed to bullshit everything and enjoy lying. And you’re only on page three. Hah! Buckle your fucking seat belt.

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Let’s see if we can squeeze in a super quick post!

In the last 24 hours, I’ve had 3 coffees, 4 shots of espresso and another quad shot coffee…  it’s been hectic to put it lightly.

But in the midst of this economic orgie (actually more like gang rape), it’s nice to be busy.

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FIRST! In honor of NaNoWriMo, I’m writing my first novel ever.  Yes yes, millions of people will dedicate themselves to meeting the writing goal in November and a whole 3 people will finish.  But I’m really hoping that this will motivate me to write about my Chinese history and mutt past (purebred by DNA but total hybrid by upbringing).  You can read about it here.

More importantly, you can help sponsor me at the Night of Writing Dangerously.

I promise I’ll stop pimping out my potential novel once I reach the $200 mark.  But I will be posting snippets of my memories, interviews with parents and other people of Chinese heritage (especially those who’ve lived in Communist China), so watch out world!

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SECOND: I just got my cork shoes from eLuxury today.  w00t!  Yes, these are the original all cork shoes.  No imitations here. :-D

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THREE: I’ve had only 2 sessions with my awesome personal trainer, and already I’m feeling a difference.  My potbelly is now only half a potbelly (okay, it might have to do with the fact that I’ve been too busy to nurish myself, but still… I’m really impressed).  What I love the most is that I have more energy (theoretically… not right now.  Right now I have a caffeine headache.)

Update: I just realized I wrote three instead of third and am grammatically retarded.  uggh…. sleeep!

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Have to run…

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Just another silly survey

I ran across this survey on my Tumblr dashboard, and question 3 really intrigued me.  Here’s what I wrote and what I wanted to expand.

1. Ten years ago I was:

um… 13.  I don’t remember much about being 13 except that it was the first year I was officially a teenager.  I don’t even remember what grade I was in.

2. Five things on today’s to do list:

  • Start reading Once You’re Lucky, Twice You’re Good by Sarah Lacy.  Why?  Because I don’t want to sound stupid at her book signing… it’s also a quick/interesting read.
  • Figure out how to post stuff to a newspaper’s event section.
  • Design clipping for the office.
  • Eat Jambalaya (I’m going to enjoy this one!).
  • Lotion.  I’ve been cracking lately.

3. Things I’d do if I were a billionaire:

  • Quit my job and travel world wide
  • Invest 70% of wealth… and make those Wharton suits clamor for the account
  • Give away 15% to charity
    • 2-3% for immediate aid to Chinese quake victims
      • UPDATED: Whoohoo to my Chinese peoples!  The tragedy levels are through the roof but so are the influx of heart felt stories.  Honestly, I feel like the morals taught in China give way to so many many tales of self sacrifice that is often hard to find in the States.  That’s a gross generalization I completely agree, but I still feel that way.
      • My mom told me and I saw on the news that Chinese Americans all over are gathering money for aid.  No one gave $5, $10, or $20 bills.  They were all hundreds.  My dad said that all the MDs at MD Anderson Cancer Center (go #1!) write checks in thousands.  If there’s really that much wrong with China, do you think Chinese Americans who have left would really do that?
    • 2-3% for infrastructure in Southeast Asia such as schools, roads, etc.
      • UPDATED: I haven’t quite studied Southeast Asia to the extend I’m very comfortable speaking to the aid needed.  I do know that I definitely want to establish schools in Culcutta; roads, telephones, etc. for entrepreneurs in somewhat recently war torn Cambodia; and a cultural reestablishment program for smaller villages in the Pacific Islands that see many of their young ones leaving for the cities.
    • 2-3% for research/set up (including initial investment and education) on developing sustainable economic/social development in subsaharan africa- especially areas that are facing desertification
      • UPDATED: It’s the story of give a man a fish vs. teaching him to fish.  I don’t believe that the OECDs giving Africa sustained aid will help anyone except the OECDs.  What needs to happen is business investment, especially in the areas battling drought.  I don’t mean oil, at least not when profits are paid to the government and not the locals.  More so, I want to see development such as textile mills in Zambia with heavy subsedies to combat the learning curve and influx of cheaper goods pouring in from abroad.  A documentary on PBS called T-Shirt Travels explains how 98% of T-shirts donated in the U.S. get shipped and resold in Africa, which is why so many random kids are wearing Michael Jackson tees.  The people who make money are the import/exporters, not your local Salvation Army and most definitely not the half starving young men/boys who are selling the shirts.
      • Additionally, to help with the lack of food, bring in the irrigation technology that I think many Middle Easterns have used in their desert areas.  It creates job and food, but I’m still trying to work on the expensive variable cost component.
    • 2-3% to aids work in Botswana/South Africa
      • UPDATED: Obviously, pills!  Lots and lots and lots of pills!  Pills that would cost us $2 but is worth a weeks of food for whatever reason.  And you know what?  I’d also fund an illegal clinic to reproduce AIDS drugs, and if the pharmas choose to sue, there will be a $500k endowment formed specifically to pay the lawyers.  If large companies can afford to stay in the court system for a decade, then they should be able to take it.
      • I also want to start a fund that take young Africans in Botswana, South Africa, etc. and put them through schooling/college and medical school.  The caviat is that they must go back to their communities and volunteer with an AIDS program after graduation.  This is a form of giving back and having Africans give aid to Africans.  I think it would hugely boost the self-esteem of the nations, who so often see foreigners coming in to assist.  Hopefully, the program will also reverse the brain drain.
    • 2-3% to women’s education in Afghanistan/Tibet/Asia minor… only if they want it and discreetly in Islamic countries
      • UPDATED: I pretty much know nothing about Asia minor/former USSR countries/the far off side of China, but I do remember seeing something about kidnapping a bride as a tradition in one of the -stans (I think it was Kyrgyzstan).  The women are usually in tears, and the mother-in-law convinces them it’s okay after about a day or two of crying, and these women simply “adapt.”  That’s just fucked up.  Sorry, I’m usually not one to bash another’s traditions, but hell to the fuck no!  That’s just my personal opinion though.  The point is to increase education, not “Westernize” the culture. 
    • 2-3% to weapons manufacturing and training in Darfur and Eastern Chad.  The UN isn’t going to do much, so at least people shouldn’t starve/should be able to defend themselves/be empowered to take control and fight their way back home.
      • UPDATED: This is a very temporary solution.  Two wrongs don’t make a right, etc. etc.  However, if these people are in refugees camps wasting away in fear and crap food, they might as well have the option to fight back.  This is a temporary fix, but the political situation is so tense, that refugees may be displaced for years, even decades. 
  • Give 10% to parents and relatives
  • Spend 5% on me
  • Use my new found wealth to pressure NGOs and give speaking power to developing nations, whose interests often get overlooked during UN/IMF, etc. decision. 

4. Three bad habits:

  • Being inpatient
  • Shoe fanatic
  • Being a huge procrastinator

5. Six places I’ve lived:

  • Hefei, China
  • Goettingen, Germany
  • Houston, Texas
  • Philadelphia, PA
  • San Mateo, CA
  • Oakland, CA

6. Six jobs I’ve had in my life:

  • Hostess, Papasitos
  • Activist, PennEnvironment
  • Research Assistant, The Wharton School 
  • Marketing Intern, Agilent
  • Volunteer, Kimmel Center
  • Director of Marketing, MSI
  • Currently: Senior Marketing Specialist, SHIFT Communications

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