I’ve been routing thru stuff which I guess is a healthy reaction to the New Year and all. Anyway, I finally found my rain pants, which I thought I had gotten rid of already. I thought I would have decided that I’m not going to be a fanatical bicycle commuter any more, but I guess I didn’t think that hard enough. Good! Anyway, they reminded me how much I would have appreciated having them in AK. And that reminded me to finish my last story.
When we last saw our heroes they were waiting for the Ranger’s office to open in Petersburg in hopes of reserving a cabin in the wilderness but out of the rain for a day or so. Finally, it did, and a squat little local lady manned the desk.
“Are there any cabins available for tonight and/or tomorrow that we can hike to?”
“Oh, no, there all booked,” She shook her head.
“How do you know without looking?”
“I’m in charge of reserving them. So, I know.”
I took out a booklet that listed the cabins and began asking her about each in turn. “What about Raven’s Roost?” This one had been written up in both our Lonely Planet guide and an article I’d found someplace. “It came highly recommended” were Jared’s words.
“Oh, that one’s available, I think. Let me check.” She pulled out a big binder and began leafing through the pages. I was not allowed to look at them as she did. “Yes, that one’s free for tonight and tomorrow night.” I asked to book it. “For the same day, you have to book online,” She replied.
“Can we book it on your computer here?” I motioned towards the computer at her desk. “Or is there an internet café in town?”
“No, I guess you can’t use the cabin,” she shook her head.
At this point, her supervisor popped out from behind the cubical walls and set her straight. Then, there was some kind of delay during which she began to tell me about her daughter’s wedding and all the seafood they caught for it. The daughter now lived in Seattle, but she had her wedding in Petersburg where she grew up. They caught all the food from the sea – it cost them nothing! Anyway, about 2 hours later, she finally managed to book the cabin, but not finish telling me about her daughter’s wedding. Her phone rang, and Jared took this opportunity to extract me.
Raven’s Roost is a 4 mile “difficult” hike from the roadway near the airport. First, I misread the map and we ambled in the rain for a while on the wrong road in search of the trailhead. The map quickly disintegrated. Jared was sure to emphasize that this was the kind of situation that made him question our relationship. Was I not sorry enough? I don’t know. But eventually, with Jared navigating, we found the trailhead and began walking our bikes up it.
This lasted about 200 feet. The trail turned into a series of uneven steps, and the rest thick mud. Quickly, we decided to leave the bikes in the shrubbery and carry our panniers ourselves along with our sleeping equipment (which had been strapped to the top of the racks). It’s only 4 miles, right? That should take us about an hour... Wrong! So, Jared turned into a pack animal, with the panniers and sleeping mat strapped across his shoulders using ropes that dug into his muscles. I believe I continued to carry mine like shopping bags. The part I think I haven’t mentioned recently enough was that the trail was deep with mud and required hands a good bit of the time (like bouldering but on roots and thru mud). This continued for 4 miles, or, in our case, 6 hours… in the pouring rain. Remember, more rain means more mud.
I’m sure there are many entertaining anecdotes from the hike, but I have blocked them out. When we thought we were pretty close, we left some of the bags behind, with plans to return for them once we found the cabin. Except, it turned out to be about half way. Every time we rounded a bend, I hallucinated a cabin, and, eventually, about 2 hours after I thought we must be on the wrong trail or we would have found it by now, my hallucination became real. You’ve seen the photos.
We were completely wrecked. But there was still the small matter of the bags we’d left 2ish miles back. Jared went for them. I stayed at the cabin intending to get the heat going and have some tea and dinner ready for him when he got back. But, alas, the heater didn’t work. I tinkered for a while, and then entertained myself instead by unpacking all of our soaking wet belongings. The food and camp stove were not among them.
Once Jared returned, he was able to rig up something (again, you saw the photo) to keep the heat going thru drip from a fuel-refilled whisky bottle. It was kind of amazing. We never found the spring for fresh water but contented ourselves with drinking boiled bog water during our 2 days there.
Before I let the whole Alaska thing die, I wanted to include some suggestions:
• Ludvig’s Bistro in Sitka is so tasty. Imagine gourmet food with AK-scale seafood. I’ve never had anything like it.
• We were also really taken with the small businesses in Haines such as Sockeye Cycle Co. (the only full-service bicycle shop in the state), Dejon Delights (selling smoked fish), and, as I mentioned earlier, the Haines Brewing Company (!).
Friday, December 29, 2006
Christmas Family Bike Trip
My mother, sister and I rode our bikes from Colma BART to Pigeon Point on the 22nd. The next day, we rode the remaining 25 miles to Santa Cruz. On Christmas Eve morning, I rode by myself over the hill (Glen Canyon Road, Scotts Valley Drive, Glenwood Drive, Mount Charlie Road) to Los Gatos where the others picked me up, and we drove back to SF.
Along our entire route down the coast, our path was marked with brussels sprouts. They were infrequent in the beginning, but as we neared Santa Cruz, a brussels sprout rested on the edge of the road every few feet. I thought of them as Gretel’s bread crumbs directing us through our coastline “forest”.
Of course, the view was incredibly beautiful – it’s almost not even worth saying. The hot tub at Pigeon Point was mind-blowing as usual with the stars and the crashing waves. The lighthouse itself is also remarkable, and the hostel’s common space comfortable and pleasant. I was worried my mother wouldn’t be able to ride the first day’s 40 miles, but they pulled into Pigeon Point just as the sun went down (I had ridden ahead to get us some food in Pescadero). The local food (bread, cheese, wine…) from Pescadero was so yummy.
The next morning we had a reservation an Ano Nuevo for 9:30 to see the elephant seals. Mother had figured out something with her gears and was getting much faster. So, we actually made it! Elephant seals have an interesting society. Each year, the males attempt to bread with as many females as possible. About 5% get to. Each year, every female reproduces. Which males get to mate is based on fighting between the males to determine dominance. Dominant males often die that same year bc they have exhausted themselves fighting and mating. However, they have fulfilled their biological imperative by siring a great many young with their DNA. The females are only interested in the male during the short period of time when they are fertile, and then they focus on their pregnancy and their young. To the untrained human eye, the seals are mostly lying around sunbathing.
It was our guide’s first tour of the year, and he was very excited. His enthusiasm was effective; we especially enjoyed our tour. The gift shop sold stuffed animal birds that made the same sound as the bird represented. My mother bought one of each. Then we sat next to a rock where we left the bikes and ate chicken from the night before as our first lunch.
We rode along the gorgeous Pacific Ocean to our next stop of Davenport. I love the café there. However, their fish and chips (my second lunch) was so-so, a bit dry. The sauces were good though. Then we rode the rest of the way to Santa Cruz.
John met us there. We stayed again at the Santa Cruz Youth Hostel, but got 2 private rooms. My mother’s and John’s was a bit noisy, but Ilana’s and mine, on the second floor of the main building, was perfect. The Carmelita Cottages are so lovely. That night we ate unremarkable Thai food served by the nicest wait-staff ever. The other interesting thing about the hostel is it’s wealth in left foods. One could stay there and never have to buy any. For example, for breakfast I had a soft-boiled egg on half a bagel, all free to guests.
The others all had friends they wanted to visit in the morning, and I was antsy to hit the road. So, that’s what we did. I’ve done a lot of rides by myself, and I’ve done a lot of new rides with other people. But I don’t think I’ve ever done a completely new ride all by myself. Mt Charlie Road was… well… over a mountain, and there were a couple points there I thought I was going to have a heart attack, but I didn’t (“is that all there is?”). I would totally do that ride again!
They picked me up in Los Gatos, and we all drove back to the City together, which was faster than the Caltrain would have been.
Along our entire route down the coast, our path was marked with brussels sprouts. They were infrequent in the beginning, but as we neared Santa Cruz, a brussels sprout rested on the edge of the road every few feet. I thought of them as Gretel’s bread crumbs directing us through our coastline “forest”.
Of course, the view was incredibly beautiful – it’s almost not even worth saying. The hot tub at Pigeon Point was mind-blowing as usual with the stars and the crashing waves. The lighthouse itself is also remarkable, and the hostel’s common space comfortable and pleasant. I was worried my mother wouldn’t be able to ride the first day’s 40 miles, but they pulled into Pigeon Point just as the sun went down (I had ridden ahead to get us some food in Pescadero). The local food (bread, cheese, wine…) from Pescadero was so yummy.
The next morning we had a reservation an Ano Nuevo for 9:30 to see the elephant seals. Mother had figured out something with her gears and was getting much faster. So, we actually made it! Elephant seals have an interesting society. Each year, the males attempt to bread with as many females as possible. About 5% get to. Each year, every female reproduces. Which males get to mate is based on fighting between the males to determine dominance. Dominant males often die that same year bc they have exhausted themselves fighting and mating. However, they have fulfilled their biological imperative by siring a great many young with their DNA. The females are only interested in the male during the short period of time when they are fertile, and then they focus on their pregnancy and their young. To the untrained human eye, the seals are mostly lying around sunbathing.
It was our guide’s first tour of the year, and he was very excited. His enthusiasm was effective; we especially enjoyed our tour. The gift shop sold stuffed animal birds that made the same sound as the bird represented. My mother bought one of each. Then we sat next to a rock where we left the bikes and ate chicken from the night before as our first lunch.
We rode along the gorgeous Pacific Ocean to our next stop of Davenport. I love the café there. However, their fish and chips (my second lunch) was so-so, a bit dry. The sauces were good though. Then we rode the rest of the way to Santa Cruz.
John met us there. We stayed again at the Santa Cruz Youth Hostel, but got 2 private rooms. My mother’s and John’s was a bit noisy, but Ilana’s and mine, on the second floor of the main building, was perfect. The Carmelita Cottages are so lovely. That night we ate unremarkable Thai food served by the nicest wait-staff ever. The other interesting thing about the hostel is it’s wealth in left foods. One could stay there and never have to buy any. For example, for breakfast I had a soft-boiled egg on half a bagel, all free to guests.
The others all had friends they wanted to visit in the morning, and I was antsy to hit the road. So, that’s what we did. I’ve done a lot of rides by myself, and I’ve done a lot of new rides with other people. But I don’t think I’ve ever done a completely new ride all by myself. Mt Charlie Road was… well… over a mountain, and there were a couple points there I thought I was going to have a heart attack, but I didn’t (“is that all there is?”). I would totally do that ride again!
They picked me up in Los Gatos, and we all drove back to the City together, which was faster than the Caltrain would have been.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
On believing....
I had dinner at Gabriel's last night. Of course, he had a lot of stories from his life and interesting insights into mine. We hadn't seen each other in a while. We spent most of the evening discussing relationships, and one of his early thoughts was this Henry Ford quote: “Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right.”
I figured this out a long long time ago, but I think I lost track of that "knowledge" along the way. I observed when I was 20, and remembered now, that all that it really takes to share your life with another person is the firm belief that you can.
Brian likes to tease me for being such a girl. I talk a little about politics and a little about happiness and mostly about relationships and how hard they are. But I don't believe that's really all I'm talking about. I'm talking about the Middle East. I'm talking about human nature. I'm talking about economics. I just talk about all of it in terms of two people who love each other finding a way to share their lives. It's like a _metaphor_, you know?
But back to Ford... I was perusing the internet today and someone was talking about how in "On Intelligence" Jeff Hawkins posits that for the brain to learn it requires pattern recognition. It won't record new patterns until they have been used several times indicating that those patterns work. Likewise, if you already have the patterns for success at whatever you're trying to do (whether it's get along with someone, build an automobile, or climb a mountain), it's more likely to happen.
Similarly, children in school tend to perform as well as they are expected to. So, if you expect your neighbors to try to kill you, or your partner to be insanely jealous or leave you, or to fail professionally... is that internal expectation really translatable to the outside world? After all, not everyone can hear your thoughts and act accordingly.
In life, we repeat the same mistakes until we're tired of them and refuse to continue. They say the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Every time you "learn" something, inside or outside of your brain, you're being predisposed to "learn" it again but potentially permanently.
To combat this, "The Rules" advises eligible bachelorettes to act on the assumption that men adore them. This way, eventually, the right one will get the message and fall in love. It also keeps the way clear when men who don't and can't adore them attempt to waste the young woman's time and affections. Here, again, ones expectations should eventually be met with reality.
There are a couple different ways to manifest these events. You can tell yourself about your success over and over (a l'Affirmations) or you can act like a successful person (a la Rules and probably lots of business books too). (I remind myself of that song: "whenever I feel afraid, I hold my head up high and whistle a happy tune....") Both systems probably work, and maybe they even work best in combination with each other, but it doesn't really matter bc ultimately you need to "learn" to believe it by creating and affirming the desirable patterns in your brain.
Sometimes my posts pour out in perfect order. Other times they’re a big scrabbled mess. I fear this accidental post may be the latter. Sorry about that.
I figured this out a long long time ago, but I think I lost track of that "knowledge" along the way. I observed when I was 20, and remembered now, that all that it really takes to share your life with another person is the firm belief that you can.
Brian likes to tease me for being such a girl. I talk a little about politics and a little about happiness and mostly about relationships and how hard they are. But I don't believe that's really all I'm talking about. I'm talking about the Middle East. I'm talking about human nature. I'm talking about economics. I just talk about all of it in terms of two people who love each other finding a way to share their lives. It's like a _metaphor_, you know?
But back to Ford... I was perusing the internet today and someone was talking about how in "On Intelligence" Jeff Hawkins posits that for the brain to learn it requires pattern recognition. It won't record new patterns until they have been used several times indicating that those patterns work. Likewise, if you already have the patterns for success at whatever you're trying to do (whether it's get along with someone, build an automobile, or climb a mountain), it's more likely to happen.
Similarly, children in school tend to perform as well as they are expected to. So, if you expect your neighbors to try to kill you, or your partner to be insanely jealous or leave you, or to fail professionally... is that internal expectation really translatable to the outside world? After all, not everyone can hear your thoughts and act accordingly.
In life, we repeat the same mistakes until we're tired of them and refuse to continue. They say the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Every time you "learn" something, inside or outside of your brain, you're being predisposed to "learn" it again but potentially permanently.
To combat this, "The Rules" advises eligible bachelorettes to act on the assumption that men adore them. This way, eventually, the right one will get the message and fall in love. It also keeps the way clear when men who don't and can't adore them attempt to waste the young woman's time and affections. Here, again, ones expectations should eventually be met with reality.
There are a couple different ways to manifest these events. You can tell yourself about your success over and over (a l'Affirmations) or you can act like a successful person (a la Rules and probably lots of business books too). (I remind myself of that song: "whenever I feel afraid, I hold my head up high and whistle a happy tune....") Both systems probably work, and maybe they even work best in combination with each other, but it doesn't really matter bc ultimately you need to "learn" to believe it by creating and affirming the desirable patterns in your brain.
Sometimes my posts pour out in perfect order. Other times they’re a big scrabbled mess. I fear this accidental post may be the latter. Sorry about that.
Punk Rock and Marriage
There was this guy in my printmaking class, Ryan. He wore vests and had a handlebar mustache despite being in his 20s. He considered himself “punk rock”. Another young guy in the class (also married, but in his 30s, also alternative) asked him how he reconciled being a punk rocker with doing something so traditional as to get married. He said something like: “Punk is about commitment. For example, when you get a tattoo, you’re committing to it for life. So, what could be more punk rock than getting married? It’s saying ‘I believe in you. I am willing to commit to believing in you, like I believe in punk rock, for life.”
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Say Yes to Mess
NYT: IT is a truism of American life that we’re too darn messy....
I first clicked on this article thinking of sending it to Grace, who is a professional organizer. But the more I read the more people I thought of: my mother, my sister, Grayson, Sam.... The list goes on. While my associations are somewhat personal (do you remember the time when you said...), a long list still merits the blog. Here it is.
I first clicked on this article thinking of sending it to Grace, who is a professional organizer. But the more I read the more people I thought of: my mother, my sister, Grayson, Sam.... The list goes on. While my associations are somewhat personal (do you remember the time when you said...), a long list still merits the blog. Here it is.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Slate on the U-Boat watch
Slate: Mr. Hitler, Do You Have the Time?
I found this essay very interesting.
I found this essay very interesting.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Things I want/Things I have
I would like:
arm and leg warmers for biking
noise cancelling earphones
sweaters (good colors, but not with that wide neck I see in all the stores right now)
gloves for sailing
a bag for my yoga mat
a new "safety" jacket for biking (bright colors, water proof (pref), with pockets)
a pressure cooker
I have (to give you):
circular slide carousels
house plants
various articles of clothing and used cds
arm and leg warmers for biking
noise cancelling earphones
sweaters (good colors, but not with that wide neck I see in all the stores right now)
gloves for sailing
a bag for my yoga mat
a new "safety" jacket for biking (bright colors, water proof (pref), with pockets)
a pressure cooker
I have (to give you):
circular slide carousels
house plants
various articles of clothing and used cds
Friday, December 15, 2006
I crack myself up.
Yesterday, I rode my bike in the rain in West Oakland to pick up my greeting cards. (Likely you’ll receive one soon. If not, remind me.) It only took an hour all together, but the journey was just so gritty and wet and weird. I rode along Mandella Parkway, which has a bike lane that the cars park in and cut thru – I don’t think they’ve ever seen a bike on the road before. Meanwhile, other bicyclists don’t know how to use the road either. One helmetless woman on what looked like a Target bike loaded down with plastic shopping bags (remember the rain), swerved around the left hand lane. I didn’t have the heart to stop and explain the whole thing to her.
Once I got to SF, I got a flat. The men at Blazing Saddles lent (and gave, in the case of the patch) me their equipment and flirted with me, which was nice. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I got a flat on one of my bikes.
So, I was late to the final printmaking class. I gave my teacher a print (which is required but also to be included in a show). He insisted on the True Love Frogs, which seems to be everyone’s favorite. (He got a pink one.) As a brief aside, I showed Matt some of my work last night and he said, “Where are the chickens?” His favorite was Girl in Chair.
Class was spent cleaning the studio, but I slipped out for a minute bc I was starving. I tried to get the counter girl at Green’s to take a credit card, but they have a $10 limit. “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today,” I mumbled, but she didn’t hear me. So, I was just this crazy lady laughing at my own jokes that no one else can hear. I explained this to her, and she went on about how important it is to be entertained by yourself. In fact, I had trouble getting away.
I had some time to kill at Fort Mason after class ended; so, I wandered around and went to the bookstore. They had $1 book tables. I wasn’t planning on buying anything bc I’m trying to get rid of all of my stuff, but I found 2 books I wanted:
The Rules (time tested secrets for capturing the heart of Mr. Right), and
Success with the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defence.
Once I got the books home, I realized that, especially, they are 2 books on the same subject.
The short version: I found myself very amusing yesterday.
Once I got to SF, I got a flat. The men at Blazing Saddles lent (and gave, in the case of the patch) me their equipment and flirted with me, which was nice. Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I got a flat on one of my bikes.
So, I was late to the final printmaking class. I gave my teacher a print (which is required but also to be included in a show). He insisted on the True Love Frogs, which seems to be everyone’s favorite. (He got a pink one.) As a brief aside, I showed Matt some of my work last night and he said, “Where are the chickens?” His favorite was Girl in Chair.
Class was spent cleaning the studio, but I slipped out for a minute bc I was starving. I tried to get the counter girl at Green’s to take a credit card, but they have a $10 limit. “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today,” I mumbled, but she didn’t hear me. So, I was just this crazy lady laughing at my own jokes that no one else can hear. I explained this to her, and she went on about how important it is to be entertained by yourself. In fact, I had trouble getting away.
I had some time to kill at Fort Mason after class ended; so, I wandered around and went to the bookstore. They had $1 book tables. I wasn’t planning on buying anything bc I’m trying to get rid of all of my stuff, but I found 2 books I wanted:
The Rules (time tested secrets for capturing the heart of Mr. Right), and
Success with the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defence.
Once I got the books home, I realized that, especially, they are 2 books on the same subject.
The short version: I found myself very amusing yesterday.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
A few words on Happiness
I don’t know what the impetus was, but Slate recently had an essay on Happiness. Since this is one of my subjects of interest, I jotted down a few notes. The essay noted that you choose your spouse but not your parents, yet most people report enjoying time spent with their parents more than their spouse. I see 2 possible reasons for this: 1) you spend a lot more time with your spouse than your parents. Time with parents is limited, and therefore more valuable (basic supply and demand, economics is, afterall, really about human reactions to things). 2) Because you spend more time with your spouse, they become an extension of you. Your frustrations with your life are showcased. Your parents generally think you’re great no matter what you do. You’re their superhero. Your spouse, alas, knows that you’re human.
However, the essay notes, married people report being generally happier than single people. (I believe this is for entirely different reasons of the basic need for love, physical affection, companionship and support.) It follows up this discrepancy with observations about differences in methodology. One study asked people for their overall feeling about their life. The other interrupted their day for periodic ranking of their mood. (I’m sure I’m over-simplifying.) What we can learn from these observations is that our perception of our happiness is based on heavily edited memories influenced by our immediate surroundings. For example, if the sun is shining or your find a coin on the floor shortly before being asked about your life, you’re more likely to report a higher level of happiness.
However, the essay notes, married people report being generally happier than single people. (I believe this is for entirely different reasons of the basic need for love, physical affection, companionship and support.) It follows up this discrepancy with observations about differences in methodology. One study asked people for their overall feeling about their life. The other interrupted their day for periodic ranking of their mood. (I’m sure I’m over-simplifying.) What we can learn from these observations is that our perception of our happiness is based on heavily edited memories influenced by our immediate surroundings. For example, if the sun is shining or your find a coin on the floor shortly before being asked about your life, you’re more likely to report a higher level of happiness.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Review of The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood
Penelope was the faithful wife of Odysseus, left alone for 20 years while her husband fought wars and slept with goddesses, or so says Homer. But Atwood was troubled by an inconsistency in the story. When Odysseus returned, why did he murder Penelope’s 12 maids who had been raped by her suitors? So, she wrote a novel presenting, at least, their side of the story.
She speculates that they were symbols, of the months, of virginity, or something. I can’t help but wonder if they were symbols of Penelope’s adventures in his absence. In order for Odysseus to believe his wife had waited patiently for him for 20 years (10 more than was necessary, it appears), he needed first to “murder” the “lives” she led while they were apart. But maybe that’s just me.
Does Atwood always write this way? Helen was “beautiful” but we never heard about the texture of her hair. Ithica was not as grand as Sparta, but we never heard why… or how. At first, I found it a bit hard to invest in, but I learned to just go with it.
Here are a few quotes:
To have a child was to set loose a force in the world. Pg 24
I was clever, everyone said so – in fact they said it so much that I found it discouraging – but cleverness is a quality a man likes to have in his wife as long as she is some distance away from him. Up close, he’ll take kindness any day of the week, if there’s nothing more alluring to be had. Pg 29
Nothing helps gluttony along so well as eating food you don’t have to pay for yourself, as I learned from later experience. Pg 40
As for my mother, she stopped swimming around like a porpoise long enough to attend my wedding…. Pg 43
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does. Pg 43
I had to agree – at least in public – that Odysseus was probably dead. Yet his ghost had never appeared to me in a dream, as would have been proper. Pg 111
“Which prayer shall we answer today?” they (the Gods) ask one another. “Let’s cast a dice! Hope for this one, despair for that one, and while we’re at it, let’s destroy the life of this woman other there by having sex with her in the form of a crayfish!” pg 135
Also, if a man takes pride in his disguising skills, it would be a foolish wife who would claim to recognize him: it’s always an imprudence to step between a man and the reflection of his own cleverness. Pg 137
But he knew me well – my tender heart, my habit of dissolving in tears and falling down on thresholds. Pg 145
She speculates that they were symbols, of the months, of virginity, or something. I can’t help but wonder if they were symbols of Penelope’s adventures in his absence. In order for Odysseus to believe his wife had waited patiently for him for 20 years (10 more than was necessary, it appears), he needed first to “murder” the “lives” she led while they were apart. But maybe that’s just me.
Does Atwood always write this way? Helen was “beautiful” but we never heard about the texture of her hair. Ithica was not as grand as Sparta, but we never heard why… or how. At first, I found it a bit hard to invest in, but I learned to just go with it.
Here are a few quotes:
To have a child was to set loose a force in the world. Pg 24
I was clever, everyone said so – in fact they said it so much that I found it discouraging – but cleverness is a quality a man likes to have in his wife as long as she is some distance away from him. Up close, he’ll take kindness any day of the week, if there’s nothing more alluring to be had. Pg 29
Nothing helps gluttony along so well as eating food you don’t have to pay for yourself, as I learned from later experience. Pg 40
As for my mother, she stopped swimming around like a porpoise long enough to attend my wedding…. Pg 43
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does. Pg 43
I had to agree – at least in public – that Odysseus was probably dead. Yet his ghost had never appeared to me in a dream, as would have been proper. Pg 111
“Which prayer shall we answer today?” they (the Gods) ask one another. “Let’s cast a dice! Hope for this one, despair for that one, and while we’re at it, let’s destroy the life of this woman other there by having sex with her in the form of a crayfish!” pg 135
Also, if a man takes pride in his disguising skills, it would be a foolish wife who would claim to recognize him: it’s always an imprudence to step between a man and the reflection of his own cleverness. Pg 137
But he knew me well – my tender heart, my habit of dissolving in tears and falling down on thresholds. Pg 145
Two other stories about my trip
I have 2 other stories I want to share. You may want to skip the first. On Monday, I went to the airport before 7 AM. I’m almost never out at that hour these days; so, maybe what I saw was an every day occurrence. Capp Street has a bad reputation, which I have thought was not justified over the past 4+ years I’ve lived there. I walked along it towards the 24th Street BART Station. First, at the corner of 23rd, I saw a person lying in the gutter in the fetal position with her pants around her thighs, bottom complete exposed. I don’t know if this was the result of some kind of sexual activity or if she was relieving her bowels and then passed out. A few cars down, a man was relieving his bowels in the gutter between two cars. He may have been the partner of the other (who I assumed to be a woman, but couldn’t be sure). I was so traumatized that I feel the need to tell the world.
My second story is much nicer. In Old Town Alexandria, there is a coffee shop that Ilana loves and I have forgotten its name. They seem to be the real thing, with jars of coffee all around looking fresh and handmade. At one end of the café, there are a bunch of small tables, all empty, and at the other end of the end of the café is a large community table. The community table was completely full. About 12 people took up tiny spaces at the table, using their laptops, talking on their phones, reading the paper, smoking, chatting with each other. Ilana asked the café worker, and she said they don’t know each other, but they just like to be together.
My second story is much nicer. In Old Town Alexandria, there is a coffee shop that Ilana loves and I have forgotten its name. They seem to be the real thing, with jars of coffee all around looking fresh and handmade. At one end of the café, there are a bunch of small tables, all empty, and at the other end of the end of the café is a large community table. The community table was completely full. About 12 people took up tiny spaces at the table, using their laptops, talking on their phones, reading the paper, smoking, chatting with each other. Ilana asked the café worker, and she said they don’t know each other, but they just like to be together.
Day 3 in DC or Panda Porn
On my 24th birthday, Grayson and I went to the Saigon Zoo. The experience scarred me. I haven’t wanted to see a zoo since, and I’ve been pretty successful at avoiding them. However, when I asked Mitja what he thought I should see in DC, he said: “I really like the Pandas. You should go to the zoo.”
“Is this because you’re a new dad?” I teased.
“No, I liked the Pandas even before Citrus was born.”
Meanwhile, my mother’s best friend from college, Dorothea, announced to my sister that she was coming to see the Pandas on Thursday. (I imagined that she had arranged to come bc she knew I was here, but it turned out to be a coincidence.)
We saw clouded leopards, red pandas, elephants, a tiger, a female lion who growled, and, yes, the Giant Pandas. We saw the father panda first; he was napping on a rock. The mother and baby panda napped too, but shortly after we found them, the mother started wandering around and eating bamboo shoots. (They have to eat bamboo something like 16 hours a day to stay alive!) Their little faces are so cute. The father has been rather depressed lately bc he needs to be separated from the mother while she’s lactating, which will last up to 1.5 years. It’ll be better for him when they can be together.
China can take the baby back once he’s 2 years old, but they might not. The pandas they have there have been prolific lately; so, they might not have the space for another one. On the other hand, they need to be aware of inbreeding, and this mother’s genes are unique, making the baby more valuable for future breeding. You can imagine that a lot of inbreeding goes on when there are only a few pandas breeding in captivity.
Male pandas raised in captivity, it turns out, don’t know how to mate instinctively. In the wild, they see it, but since breeding in captivity is unusual, they don’t get that example there. So… the zoo keepers show the adolescent male pandas Panda Porn for them to learn.
My other favorite animal was the hippo. He stayed there in the water, otherwise huge, with his little eyes and ears a nose just above. I felt a bit blasé about the elephants, and then I thought that was weird.
Ilana lives a short walk from the zoo, and after we’d seen the animals, we walked over to her place for tea. On our way there, Dorothea’s friend Gail said that she’d read about this neighborhood – that there were a lot of muggings here.
I said: “what’s the name of the neighborhood?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” And then she pointed out the bars on some of the windows.
I think living in a city is good for democracy. There was all that talk a few years ago about talking to people about politics especially when we know their views are different from ours as a form of public education (both ways!) and outreach, to help us all care about and understand politics. You’re supposed to follow your intuition about your own safety, but I was surprised that she would be afraid of such a beautiful neighborhood (old brownstones, trees lining the roadway) just because (it seemed) it’s a city. I’ve talked about this a lot, but I believe that Fear drives us to do all kinds of destructive things. And the more we know about each other, and by extension, ourselves, the more we can make decisions based on more positive emotions, intuitions, than fear.
Dorothea brought us some etchings she’d done (www.cdlimited.com/doba.html), and I showed her mine as well (tho I wasn’t able to give her one). Then, we went for lunch at a nearby Peruvian chicken place where we ordered way too much food for about $1. After lunch, we walked Dorothea and Gail too the Metro.
I had forgotten how much I love Dorothea and she loves me, I told Ilana on our way home.
“That’s because you never see each other,” was her explanation.
But I don’t think that’s right. I think that if you love someone, and they love you, you’d better have a pretty good reason for not keeping in touch. Anything else is superficial. Love is the only real thing in this world. Now that I’m reminded, I hope to be better about that. I even got her email.
In the evening, we met Ilana’s friend Jeff at a bar a short bike ride away. At some point in the evening, I asserted that everyone should get therapy just like everyone should see a dentist. Ilana thought that people should get therapy during times of crisis in their lives. Jeff and Ilana seemed to agree that some people shouldn’t ever get therapy bc it makes them even more self-absorbed than they were at first. (At one point in the conversation, I said to Jeff: “maybe you don’t know enough crazy people.” Now this was pretty funny since he works with the homeless – that’s his job!)
Anyway, what I think I meant to say is that people’s mental and emotional health should get just as much attention as other kinds of health. We should get check ups. But not every mental health program works for every person. For example, some people might get more from prayer and going to church while others might get more from a shrink. Some might be best treated with medication while others exercise. But I think regular checkups and treatment program adjustments should be built into our system like teeth cleanings.
Now, here’s a question: do even smart people get stupid when drunk? There was this guy at the bar who tried to hit on us. He saw my bike helmet and asked if I’d been for a ride. Then, he could not understand that I had ridden the bicycle _For Transportation_. Despite the potential political ramifications of him gaining that understanding, I gave up after a few exchanges. He wouldn’t have remembered anyway.
I’m on the Amtrak to Durham right now, and of course the train is already an hour late. A friend of Sara’s warned us that we should expect to be between one and three hours late on this line, much like the one I’ve ridden in CA. What’s wrong with Amtrak?
Speaking of transportation, I thought DC’s signal timing system particularly pedestrian-friendly. For one thing, the lights count down from when they first turn green (not once the red hand begins to flash like in SF). People are always happier with more complete information. The lights count down from like 96 sometimes. You can nearly always make it across without risking death even after the light has changed against you. I didn’t notice a long all-red time, but I did notice that the drivers appear to be willing to wait a few seconds after their light turns green before going. This must be cultural. Mitja said that the DC drivers are the worst – the upshot being that they make stupid maneuvers despite there being plenty of room on the roadway.
The Metro, too, seemed to work. Each line has a color. Each platform displays where the train is going and where you can transfer. How many minutes until the next train comes is constantly shown on a screen, and the numbers are usually small. The lights flash when the train is coming (this is probably an ADA thing). My only complaint is that I would have liked to have seen more system maps on the platforms. If I have a general idea, I would rather figure out the details while I wait for a train to come. I also haven’t decided yet if I think that fare system was unnecessarily complicated. I bought a $10 ticket (which I didn’t use up.), but each time I rode the train, they deducted a different amount. It wasn’t a problem, I just never knew what to expect. Does that matter?
Now the winter trees and frozen lakes wiz past the train windows. I remember that it snowed, just briefly, last night before we went to the bar. The flakes were barely noticeable tiny angels floating through the air. Nothing stuck.
“Is this because you’re a new dad?” I teased.
“No, I liked the Pandas even before Citrus was born.”
Meanwhile, my mother’s best friend from college, Dorothea, announced to my sister that she was coming to see the Pandas on Thursday. (I imagined that she had arranged to come bc she knew I was here, but it turned out to be a coincidence.)
We saw clouded leopards, red pandas, elephants, a tiger, a female lion who growled, and, yes, the Giant Pandas. We saw the father panda first; he was napping on a rock. The mother and baby panda napped too, but shortly after we found them, the mother started wandering around and eating bamboo shoots. (They have to eat bamboo something like 16 hours a day to stay alive!) Their little faces are so cute. The father has been rather depressed lately bc he needs to be separated from the mother while she’s lactating, which will last up to 1.5 years. It’ll be better for him when they can be together.
China can take the baby back once he’s 2 years old, but they might not. The pandas they have there have been prolific lately; so, they might not have the space for another one. On the other hand, they need to be aware of inbreeding, and this mother’s genes are unique, making the baby more valuable for future breeding. You can imagine that a lot of inbreeding goes on when there are only a few pandas breeding in captivity.
Male pandas raised in captivity, it turns out, don’t know how to mate instinctively. In the wild, they see it, but since breeding in captivity is unusual, they don’t get that example there. So… the zoo keepers show the adolescent male pandas Panda Porn for them to learn.
My other favorite animal was the hippo. He stayed there in the water, otherwise huge, with his little eyes and ears a nose just above. I felt a bit blasé about the elephants, and then I thought that was weird.
Ilana lives a short walk from the zoo, and after we’d seen the animals, we walked over to her place for tea. On our way there, Dorothea’s friend Gail said that she’d read about this neighborhood – that there were a lot of muggings here.
I said: “what’s the name of the neighborhood?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” And then she pointed out the bars on some of the windows.
I think living in a city is good for democracy. There was all that talk a few years ago about talking to people about politics especially when we know their views are different from ours as a form of public education (both ways!) and outreach, to help us all care about and understand politics. You’re supposed to follow your intuition about your own safety, but I was surprised that she would be afraid of such a beautiful neighborhood (old brownstones, trees lining the roadway) just because (it seemed) it’s a city. I’ve talked about this a lot, but I believe that Fear drives us to do all kinds of destructive things. And the more we know about each other, and by extension, ourselves, the more we can make decisions based on more positive emotions, intuitions, than fear.
Dorothea brought us some etchings she’d done (www.cdlimited.com/doba.html), and I showed her mine as well (tho I wasn’t able to give her one). Then, we went for lunch at a nearby Peruvian chicken place where we ordered way too much food for about $1. After lunch, we walked Dorothea and Gail too the Metro.
I had forgotten how much I love Dorothea and she loves me, I told Ilana on our way home.
“That’s because you never see each other,” was her explanation.
But I don’t think that’s right. I think that if you love someone, and they love you, you’d better have a pretty good reason for not keeping in touch. Anything else is superficial. Love is the only real thing in this world. Now that I’m reminded, I hope to be better about that. I even got her email.
In the evening, we met Ilana’s friend Jeff at a bar a short bike ride away. At some point in the evening, I asserted that everyone should get therapy just like everyone should see a dentist. Ilana thought that people should get therapy during times of crisis in their lives. Jeff and Ilana seemed to agree that some people shouldn’t ever get therapy bc it makes them even more self-absorbed than they were at first. (At one point in the conversation, I said to Jeff: “maybe you don’t know enough crazy people.” Now this was pretty funny since he works with the homeless – that’s his job!)
Anyway, what I think I meant to say is that people’s mental and emotional health should get just as much attention as other kinds of health. We should get check ups. But not every mental health program works for every person. For example, some people might get more from prayer and going to church while others might get more from a shrink. Some might be best treated with medication while others exercise. But I think regular checkups and treatment program adjustments should be built into our system like teeth cleanings.
Now, here’s a question: do even smart people get stupid when drunk? There was this guy at the bar who tried to hit on us. He saw my bike helmet and asked if I’d been for a ride. Then, he could not understand that I had ridden the bicycle _For Transportation_. Despite the potential political ramifications of him gaining that understanding, I gave up after a few exchanges. He wouldn’t have remembered anyway.
I’m on the Amtrak to Durham right now, and of course the train is already an hour late. A friend of Sara’s warned us that we should expect to be between one and three hours late on this line, much like the one I’ve ridden in CA. What’s wrong with Amtrak?
Speaking of transportation, I thought DC’s signal timing system particularly pedestrian-friendly. For one thing, the lights count down from when they first turn green (not once the red hand begins to flash like in SF). People are always happier with more complete information. The lights count down from like 96 sometimes. You can nearly always make it across without risking death even after the light has changed against you. I didn’t notice a long all-red time, but I did notice that the drivers appear to be willing to wait a few seconds after their light turns green before going. This must be cultural. Mitja said that the DC drivers are the worst – the upshot being that they make stupid maneuvers despite there being plenty of room on the roadway.
The Metro, too, seemed to work. Each line has a color. Each platform displays where the train is going and where you can transfer. How many minutes until the next train comes is constantly shown on a screen, and the numbers are usually small. The lights flash when the train is coming (this is probably an ADA thing). My only complaint is that I would have liked to have seen more system maps on the platforms. If I have a general idea, I would rather figure out the details while I wait for a train to come. I also haven’t decided yet if I think that fare system was unnecessarily complicated. I bought a $10 ticket (which I didn’t use up.), but each time I rode the train, they deducted a different amount. It wasn’t a problem, I just never knew what to expect. Does that matter?
Now the winter trees and frozen lakes wiz past the train windows. I remember that it snowed, just briefly, last night before we went to the bar. The flakes were barely noticeable tiny angels floating through the air. Nothing stuck.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Day 2 in DC
I’m feeling rather depressed and upset about coordinating xmas with my family at the moment. I’m the only one with a “home” in the Bay Area, but my place is small. So, there isn’t any place for even the nuclear family to descend. For various reasons, it’s best for us to celebrate there. I guess these are what Alison calls “white girl problems”, but I’m already feeling delicate, and I need all the loving wholeness I can get.
Ilana and I spent today on bikes. I rode a really cute vintage Trek (with lugs!), turquoise, that looked super girly with my baby pink hat and gloves. I loved that. Unfortunately, I did not love the seat. She gave me a tour of downtown including her former office buildings with the World Bank and where she’d met boys for dates. We stopped off at the Vietnam Memorial, hidden there under the hill, and then at the Lincoln Memorial resting majestically above the Mall.
From there, we crossed the Potomac and rode along its banks for about 10 miles to Old Town Alexandria. On the way, we passed the DC Airport (where I flew in 2 days before), and spent a moment at the end of the runway watching the planes hit the ground a few feet away from over our heads. Also sitting there was a middle-aged couple who took pains to write down our names correctly in order to pray for us. (At first, I gave them my correct name, but then I got a little worried and “corrected” my spelling. I had no idea Ilana’s name could be spelled so differently!)
The weather was gorgeous despite it being winter, the grass was green and the trees were there. The surface of the Potomac lay flat despite the cold air, bc the wind stayed low. The bike path runs between the highway and the river, but across the river the view is of the Capital. The Town’s super cute, and we looked at the art at the Torpedo Factory Art where we saw some really cool ceramic animals and pottery. Ilana fell in love with a little cow, but she couldn’t justify spending $38 on it. Alexandria has some outlet stores, and in addition to lunch we tried to shop. Ilana bought some blue shoes. I’ve lost some weight lately, which means that all my pants are way too big. Ilana wanted me to find some that fit at the Gap outlet, but alas, none of their 12 styles are made for my body.
We biked back in the dark, which was particularly scary on the bike path where there was NO light at all (of course I lacked a headlight). I thought of Carolyn smashing her face in on the Oholone Greenway in Berkeley. What was spectacular was the view of the Capital all lit up in the night across the river. By this time, the river wasn’t so placid, and tiny waves lapped against the bank.
Our evening destination was Sam and Jess’s house in Capital Hill. They live in an amazing 3-story townhouse. I guess it’s been a few months since they left San Francisco, but it didn’t feel like any time had passed at all. Their lives have changed though. I also really enjoyed catching up with Nomar (the parrot, who, incidently let me pet him and pooped on my leg) and Muni and Bart (the guinea pigs).
Ilana and I spent today on bikes. I rode a really cute vintage Trek (with lugs!), turquoise, that looked super girly with my baby pink hat and gloves. I loved that. Unfortunately, I did not love the seat. She gave me a tour of downtown including her former office buildings with the World Bank and where she’d met boys for dates. We stopped off at the Vietnam Memorial, hidden there under the hill, and then at the Lincoln Memorial resting majestically above the Mall.
From there, we crossed the Potomac and rode along its banks for about 10 miles to Old Town Alexandria. On the way, we passed the DC Airport (where I flew in 2 days before), and spent a moment at the end of the runway watching the planes hit the ground a few feet away from over our heads. Also sitting there was a middle-aged couple who took pains to write down our names correctly in order to pray for us. (At first, I gave them my correct name, but then I got a little worried and “corrected” my spelling. I had no idea Ilana’s name could be spelled so differently!)
The weather was gorgeous despite it being winter, the grass was green and the trees were there. The surface of the Potomac lay flat despite the cold air, bc the wind stayed low. The bike path runs between the highway and the river, but across the river the view is of the Capital. The Town’s super cute, and we looked at the art at the Torpedo Factory Art where we saw some really cool ceramic animals and pottery. Ilana fell in love with a little cow, but she couldn’t justify spending $38 on it. Alexandria has some outlet stores, and in addition to lunch we tried to shop. Ilana bought some blue shoes. I’ve lost some weight lately, which means that all my pants are way too big. Ilana wanted me to find some that fit at the Gap outlet, but alas, none of their 12 styles are made for my body.
We biked back in the dark, which was particularly scary on the bike path where there was NO light at all (of course I lacked a headlight). I thought of Carolyn smashing her face in on the Oholone Greenway in Berkeley. What was spectacular was the view of the Capital all lit up in the night across the river. By this time, the river wasn’t so placid, and tiny waves lapped against the bank.
Our evening destination was Sam and Jess’s house in Capital Hill. They live in an amazing 3-story townhouse. I guess it’s been a few months since they left San Francisco, but it didn’t feel like any time had passed at all. Their lives have changed though. I also really enjoyed catching up with Nomar (the parrot, who, incidently let me pet him and pooped on my leg) and Muni and Bart (the guinea pigs).
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Day 1 in DC
I had a pretty good day here in our fine country’s capital. Ilana and I spent a leisurely morning in her lovely Mt. Pleasant apartment. She has a little xmas tree with a short string of white lights and nothing else. She also has a collection of heart-shaped rocks pinned around one her front window. The place feels homey, and I was amazed how she does everything right. It’s probably bc she’s my sister – we figured out a lot of things together.
So, I finally got my butt in gear and decided to go see an exhibition on American Modernism at the Philips Museum. I walked there (DuPont Circle) from here. But once I got there, paid my admission, I realized there was a problem: I already saw this exhibition last summer in LA. And it wasn’t so interesting of an exhibit that I wanted to see it again (for another $10 when I’m living mostly off my savings and taking a trip for no reason).
But I’ve got this idea for a bicycle art exhibition, and I did see a painting with a bicycle. So, note to self: Braque’s The Shower, 1952.
Yeah, otherwise, I felt like a real turkey. Which leads me to something I was just talking about with my mother. I tend to blame myself for most everything that goes wrong: a stubbed toe, a burned cookie, when my sailing teacher takes out a boat with a broken spreader, the holocaust. I often do my best to hide this bc it would…. Well, just because. Meanwhile, the woman who lives downstairs from me apologizes for everything whenever I see her, and it makes me feel like she’s got serious confidence issues or that she’s a manipulator. Either way is bad. Anyway, there’s a balance, but sometimes finding that balance takes a lot of thought, not just about responsibility, and personal responsibility, but also about social objectives and the messages we put out into the world. I need to think not only about what my role was in something that went wrong, but also about what I can gain by taking, or not taking, responsibility for that mistake. Anyway, it’s complicated.
From there, I had a little time to kill. So, I strolled around the neighborhood and finished the Crispy Crème donuts I’d bought for my lunch. (Ilana offered me OJ with my breakfast, but I declined bc juice has too much sugar. I should have clarified that I like to be very selective about where my sugar comes from.) I then took the Metro to the massage appt that Ilana made for me.
She found this massage school where you can get one for a very reasonable price. She went last week, and I happened to speak with her bf and after her appt. The idea is that it’s hard to be single, without hugs and caresses day after day. (I burst into tears when a friend gave me a very empathic hug the other day, but then, that’s nothing unusual these days.) So, getting a regular massage not only keeps your body feeling good and relaxed, it also gives you human contact that we all so desperately need.
I had a sort of dream during my massage. There was a city made out of glass, and it was Paris. Except something happened, and it all shattered. The lights and colors and shimmering glass were still so beautiful, and we played in the broken glass, throwing it into the air, and it didn’t hurt us.
I glanced in the mirror after my massage, and the bags under my eyes were especially puffy. I had to rush to meet my old high-school friend Mitja at his office. He works at AARP, and he looked great. We went to a fancy restaurant, Zola, bc I said I wanted an experience special to DC. He had chowder and we shared some fries for a starter. The fries were good, but the exciting part was the mustardy mayonnaise they gave us to dip them. For our mains, I had the chicken which involved a fig sauce, a butternut squash puree over that, and then chicken breast covered with brussel sprouts and zucchini and cheese. Mitja had monk fish with some kind of asian sauce and spinach. Also tasty. Since Mitja had already tried the chocolate bomb they make, we had the chocolate fondue s’mores for dessert.
The air outside was freezing cold, but I convinced him to take me for turn on the Mall. Earlier in the day, when I was having trouble leaving Ilana’s, I felt a bit panicked that I would somehow miss seeing “DC”. I am less worried about that now I have strolled up to the well-lit White House (were there really people in all of those rooms with their lights on??) and then back towards the Washington Monument.
Of course, the conversation this whole time was lovely, and it was great to see him. He drove me home in his red Miata (inherited from his father, he assured me when I said “you’re joking, right?” in response to the car). You might have to know him to get the joke.
Now I’m back at Ilana’s, wading thru email for the first time in 2 days. I really need to buy my train ticket to Durham. Ugh.
So, I finally got my butt in gear and decided to go see an exhibition on American Modernism at the Philips Museum. I walked there (DuPont Circle) from here. But once I got there, paid my admission, I realized there was a problem: I already saw this exhibition last summer in LA. And it wasn’t so interesting of an exhibit that I wanted to see it again (for another $10 when I’m living mostly off my savings and taking a trip for no reason).
But I’ve got this idea for a bicycle art exhibition, and I did see a painting with a bicycle. So, note to self: Braque’s The Shower, 1952.
Yeah, otherwise, I felt like a real turkey. Which leads me to something I was just talking about with my mother. I tend to blame myself for most everything that goes wrong: a stubbed toe, a burned cookie, when my sailing teacher takes out a boat with a broken spreader, the holocaust. I often do my best to hide this bc it would…. Well, just because. Meanwhile, the woman who lives downstairs from me apologizes for everything whenever I see her, and it makes me feel like she’s got serious confidence issues or that she’s a manipulator. Either way is bad. Anyway, there’s a balance, but sometimes finding that balance takes a lot of thought, not just about responsibility, and personal responsibility, but also about social objectives and the messages we put out into the world. I need to think not only about what my role was in something that went wrong, but also about what I can gain by taking, or not taking, responsibility for that mistake. Anyway, it’s complicated.
From there, I had a little time to kill. So, I strolled around the neighborhood and finished the Crispy Crème donuts I’d bought for my lunch. (Ilana offered me OJ with my breakfast, but I declined bc juice has too much sugar. I should have clarified that I like to be very selective about where my sugar comes from.) I then took the Metro to the massage appt that Ilana made for me.
She found this massage school where you can get one for a very reasonable price. She went last week, and I happened to speak with her bf and after her appt. The idea is that it’s hard to be single, without hugs and caresses day after day. (I burst into tears when a friend gave me a very empathic hug the other day, but then, that’s nothing unusual these days.) So, getting a regular massage not only keeps your body feeling good and relaxed, it also gives you human contact that we all so desperately need.
I had a sort of dream during my massage. There was a city made out of glass, and it was Paris. Except something happened, and it all shattered. The lights and colors and shimmering glass were still so beautiful, and we played in the broken glass, throwing it into the air, and it didn’t hurt us.
I glanced in the mirror after my massage, and the bags under my eyes were especially puffy. I had to rush to meet my old high-school friend Mitja at his office. He works at AARP, and he looked great. We went to a fancy restaurant, Zola, bc I said I wanted an experience special to DC. He had chowder and we shared some fries for a starter. The fries were good, but the exciting part was the mustardy mayonnaise they gave us to dip them. For our mains, I had the chicken which involved a fig sauce, a butternut squash puree over that, and then chicken breast covered with brussel sprouts and zucchini and cheese. Mitja had monk fish with some kind of asian sauce and spinach. Also tasty. Since Mitja had already tried the chocolate bomb they make, we had the chocolate fondue s’mores for dessert.
The air outside was freezing cold, but I convinced him to take me for turn on the Mall. Earlier in the day, when I was having trouble leaving Ilana’s, I felt a bit panicked that I would somehow miss seeing “DC”. I am less worried about that now I have strolled up to the well-lit White House (were there really people in all of those rooms with their lights on??) and then back towards the Washington Monument.
Of course, the conversation this whole time was lovely, and it was great to see him. He drove me home in his red Miata (inherited from his father, he assured me when I said “you’re joking, right?” in response to the car). You might have to know him to get the joke.
Now I’m back at Ilana’s, wading thru email for the first time in 2 days. I really need to buy my train ticket to Durham. Ugh.
Winterfest 2006
I had a particularly good time at the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition's Winterfest this year, but I don't know how to explain why. I was busy. The company and conversation were outstanding. I felt on my game. The beer was really tasty. On the other hand, they seem to have decided to gear it towards the auctions and reduce many other forms of entertainment. Last year I enjoyed the films, but maybe they ended up being a social crutch. Here is photo of my from the photo booth (something they do every year).
Sunday, December 03, 2006
NeXmap Review, etc.
My hands are all messed up from sailing. I need to get some sailing gloves, and I hear they do exist. My hands feel like sand paper. But the weather was beautiful, and my fellow sailors sweet. We took out a Precision, which doesn’t steer with much. I think I’ll try to stick with the Lidos for a bit longer.
I had a lot of competing invitations last night, but ultimately I decided to go to Kristin’s video art show. It seemed important to support her in this project, and also I thought I would enjoy it (of course). It was called “NeXmap: New Experimental Music, Art, Performance” in the “recombinant media labs”, this cool space south of Market. They showed 6 pieces.
In the first one, a violinist played notes (music) and computer responded with harmonizing or dissonant notes. I believe they were the result of the computer processing her sounds. The effect was really interesting. At the same time, a Durer etching was projected on the screens (along the entire wall of the space, 360 degrees), first so blown up that all you saw were a few pixels, then slowly we got to see the image until it became so small that it was a tiny, quivering dot on a black screen.
The second piece was a series of photos and recordings of people in urban settings. It was called “a strange intimacy”, and seemed to be about how, in urban settings, we are always surrounded by people we don’t know, and maybe we like it that way. He talked about the closeness of it, but I also wonder about the alienation of it.
In another piece, a Claronetist played very powerful music called “Dust” which he said was about 9/11. Kristin’s piece was 5th, and she had edited a dance performance into waves so that it looked like the dancers were rolling into and out of the water.
Julie said that the final piece made her feel like she was in hell. (She arrived with a headache.) The room was black, and we lay on the floor. The composer said it was about the Tsnami in Thailand. It sounded like huge rats crawling in the walls and floor and ceiling all around us. As the music built, and became more frantic, I began to feel unsafe. It was a tremendous feeling. But then I remembered that I was in a black room in downtown San Francisco at a music performance. Of course I was safe – these were just sounds. It made me wonder about our basic human reactions to other situations – maybe we’re nearly always safe. How much of modern life is simulated, and how much of it can be controlled and made to be a positive rather than negative experience through thought?
I thought about horror films and how I find them “too scary”. I like that they cause you to clutch the person next to you for “safety”. I like that they instigate human contact. Our world right now has so many fewer risks than when humans were more active members of wildlife. And yet, we find things to be afraid of anyway. We are afraid of our airplane falling from the sky, or of having our hearts broken by the careless, or of slipping in the shower. We’re afraid of having things we value taken from us. We’re afraid of dying too soon.
I always talk about letting go of these fears. “Forget safety,” I say. “Loosen your grip,” I think. But right now I realize that that disregards our most basic human programming, real or not. Feeling fear is part of being human. What that leaves is a question of how we react to our fears. Do we bomb foreign countries? Do we run away from Love? Do we stop bathing? Well, we all know the answers to these questions for ourselves, but I guess the thing I want to keep in mind is what these reactions mean and if they are an appropriate reaction to the real level of risk I face.
I had a lot of competing invitations last night, but ultimately I decided to go to Kristin’s video art show. It seemed important to support her in this project, and also I thought I would enjoy it (of course). It was called “NeXmap: New Experimental Music, Art, Performance” in the “recombinant media labs”, this cool space south of Market. They showed 6 pieces.
In the first one, a violinist played notes (music) and computer responded with harmonizing or dissonant notes. I believe they were the result of the computer processing her sounds. The effect was really interesting. At the same time, a Durer etching was projected on the screens (along the entire wall of the space, 360 degrees), first so blown up that all you saw were a few pixels, then slowly we got to see the image until it became so small that it was a tiny, quivering dot on a black screen.
The second piece was a series of photos and recordings of people in urban settings. It was called “a strange intimacy”, and seemed to be about how, in urban settings, we are always surrounded by people we don’t know, and maybe we like it that way. He talked about the closeness of it, but I also wonder about the alienation of it.
In another piece, a Claronetist played very powerful music called “Dust” which he said was about 9/11. Kristin’s piece was 5th, and she had edited a dance performance into waves so that it looked like the dancers were rolling into and out of the water.
Julie said that the final piece made her feel like she was in hell. (She arrived with a headache.) The room was black, and we lay on the floor. The composer said it was about the Tsnami in Thailand. It sounded like huge rats crawling in the walls and floor and ceiling all around us. As the music built, and became more frantic, I began to feel unsafe. It was a tremendous feeling. But then I remembered that I was in a black room in downtown San Francisco at a music performance. Of course I was safe – these were just sounds. It made me wonder about our basic human reactions to other situations – maybe we’re nearly always safe. How much of modern life is simulated, and how much of it can be controlled and made to be a positive rather than negative experience through thought?
I thought about horror films and how I find them “too scary”. I like that they cause you to clutch the person next to you for “safety”. I like that they instigate human contact. Our world right now has so many fewer risks than when humans were more active members of wildlife. And yet, we find things to be afraid of anyway. We are afraid of our airplane falling from the sky, or of having our hearts broken by the careless, or of slipping in the shower. We’re afraid of having things we value taken from us. We’re afraid of dying too soon.
I always talk about letting go of these fears. “Forget safety,” I say. “Loosen your grip,” I think. But right now I realize that that disregards our most basic human programming, real or not. Feeling fear is part of being human. What that leaves is a question of how we react to our fears. Do we bomb foreign countries? Do we run away from Love? Do we stop bathing? Well, we all know the answers to these questions for ourselves, but I guess the thing I want to keep in mind is what these reactions mean and if they are an appropriate reaction to the real level of risk I face.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Random quotes
If there’s an upside to freefalling, it’s that you give your friends a chance to catch you.
Grey’s Anatomy (TV show)
Each day, we must learn
again how to love…
Excerpt from "In the Middle" by Barbara Crooker, from Word Press. © 1998
…too full to swallow any sorrow…
The Joy Luck Club (the movie)
Grey’s Anatomy (TV show)
Each day, we must learn
again how to love…
Excerpt from "In the Middle" by Barbara Crooker, from Word Press. © 1998
…too full to swallow any sorrow…
The Joy Luck Club (the movie)
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Thanksgiving
I usually like to take some time around thanksgiving to articulate what I’m thankful for. This year, I found it difficult. I am thankful, but, in Laura’s words, I’ve been thrown a few curve balls lately. So, I guess that makes me more thankful for the things I am thankful for and less thankful for everything else.
Let’s see…. most of all, I’m thankful for my friends, my mother and my sister. I’m thankful for the Bay Area, and all the cool stuff you can do here, easily and inexpensively. I’m thankful that I have this really pretty and central apartment and that I’ve stayed here as long as I have (huge surprise!). I’m thankful for my skills and education (Have I been writing a lot of cover letters lately???). I’m thankful for passion. I’m thankful for the health of my loved ones and myself.
Kristin, Julie and I were talking last night about The Ring. What’s really scary about it is that you anticipate dying in 7 days – you have 7 days to worry about it. I’ve been reading this book, Stumbling on Happiness, where the author (Daniel Gilbert) asserts that anticipation of pleasure makes it possible to enjoy that pleasure more. Likewise, anticipation of the unpleasant (like dying from watching a video) is that much more so. I have flower bulbs growing in my apartment now, and I am thankful for their future blooms.
I had a really good Thanksgiving. I started my day with a yoga class – heated and involving sun salutations (2 things I don’t like) but refreshing anyway. Carolyn and I took a walk along the Bay Trail, which was so so beautiful and, of course, the conversation brilliant. I went with them to Tom’s briefly (fun!), and then walked up to Anne and Ray’s for my official Thanksgiving dinner.
About 10 people were there, and not surprisingly, they were particularly interesting. I sat next to a property manager from the Peninsula. We got to talking about traffic congestion and parking issues, and I got to bring out my "toolkit" for solving these problems. He seemed genuinely interested, and said he would try to push thru some of my suggestions in their larger buildings (which was my suggestion about where he should start). Hey, maybe I did something to save the world right there at the Thanksgiving table?!
I love this quote from Don DeLillo: "I've never thought about myself in terms of a career. ... I don't have a career, I have a typewriter." I love to work, to do stuff. I love to tell people about transportation alternatives, and solve their transportation (and other) problems. I love to figure stuff out. I’ve never been a very good American with this idea of a sacred “career” that you build and guard and cultivate like a plant… I think it’s a way to avoid living.
And from Sharon Olds: “I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all is very lucky.”
Let’s see…. most of all, I’m thankful for my friends, my mother and my sister. I’m thankful for the Bay Area, and all the cool stuff you can do here, easily and inexpensively. I’m thankful that I have this really pretty and central apartment and that I’ve stayed here as long as I have (huge surprise!). I’m thankful for my skills and education (Have I been writing a lot of cover letters lately???). I’m thankful for passion. I’m thankful for the health of my loved ones and myself.
Kristin, Julie and I were talking last night about The Ring. What’s really scary about it is that you anticipate dying in 7 days – you have 7 days to worry about it. I’ve been reading this book, Stumbling on Happiness, where the author (Daniel Gilbert) asserts that anticipation of pleasure makes it possible to enjoy that pleasure more. Likewise, anticipation of the unpleasant (like dying from watching a video) is that much more so. I have flower bulbs growing in my apartment now, and I am thankful for their future blooms.
I had a really good Thanksgiving. I started my day with a yoga class – heated and involving sun salutations (2 things I don’t like) but refreshing anyway. Carolyn and I took a walk along the Bay Trail, which was so so beautiful and, of course, the conversation brilliant. I went with them to Tom’s briefly (fun!), and then walked up to Anne and Ray’s for my official Thanksgiving dinner.
About 10 people were there, and not surprisingly, they were particularly interesting. I sat next to a property manager from the Peninsula. We got to talking about traffic congestion and parking issues, and I got to bring out my "toolkit" for solving these problems. He seemed genuinely interested, and said he would try to push thru some of my suggestions in their larger buildings (which was my suggestion about where he should start). Hey, maybe I did something to save the world right there at the Thanksgiving table?!
I love this quote from Don DeLillo: "I've never thought about myself in terms of a career. ... I don't have a career, I have a typewriter." I love to work, to do stuff. I love to tell people about transportation alternatives, and solve their transportation (and other) problems. I love to figure stuff out. I’ve never been a very good American with this idea of a sacred “career” that you build and guard and cultivate like a plant… I think it’s a way to avoid living.
And from Sharon Olds: “I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all is very lucky.”
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Life Goals 2006 (based on last new year's)
1. Live a life of constant Learning
2. Have True Love/a meaningful life Partnership
3. Have a baby or 2 and raise it/them well
4. Be a good Friend to 3-6 people at all times (partner included)
5. Live in a beautiful Home with a garden and a piano; grow tomatoes
6. Do something that helps people/makes the world a better place
7. See the world/have meaningful interactions with all kinds of people/have adventures/be open to what life offers
8. Be charming and talented
9. Be able to afford what I want (have money not be an issue – I don’t think it would ever happen to me that I would become too focused on accumulating wealth or living extravagantly; so, there’s no reason to have a goal on that)
10. Live in major cities around the world for 2+ years at a time
11. Care for my body/be healthy and fit
12. Make/do/produce good things
13. Strive to be low-impact on the planet
2. Have True Love/a meaningful life Partnership
3. Have a baby or 2 and raise it/them well
4. Be a good Friend to 3-6 people at all times (partner included)
5. Live in a beautiful Home with a garden and a piano; grow tomatoes
6. Do something that helps people/makes the world a better place
7. See the world/have meaningful interactions with all kinds of people/have adventures/be open to what life offers
8. Be charming and talented
9. Be able to afford what I want (have money not be an issue – I don’t think it would ever happen to me that I would become too focused on accumulating wealth or living extravagantly; so, there’s no reason to have a goal on that)
10. Live in major cities around the world for 2+ years at a time
11. Care for my body/be healthy and fit
12. Make/do/produce good things
13. Strive to be low-impact on the planet
Thursday, November 16, 2006
On Democracy in America
Last night, Brian and I went to see Steven Hill talk about his book "10 Steps to Repair American Democracy" at Modern Times Book Store. There has been a lot said on this subject ever since the debacle we call the 2000 presidential election (although I was overseas a good bit of time since then and a lot of what I heard said was said by Europeans. The French are completely convinced that American Democracy no longer exists). Yeah, so there’s a lot to say. But I was particularly compelled by one comment:
Steven Hill pointed out that Regan was the first politician to blame government for America’s problems. “Government is the problem,” he said. But, here’s the thing: if government is bad, then why vote? This sort of ideology, particularly when asserted by our Leaders, is hugely destructive not just to government, but to the public’s interest in participating in it. No wonder apathy is rampant – entire generations have heard this message since we were small.
Republicans value business to make the individual profit. Government serves the public without self-interest (except maybe people wanting to keep their jobs…?). What motivates us to serve each other, to make our world better, if the mechanism thru which we can do that is “the problem”. Sure, there are non-profits, but the non-profit structure, with battling board members, etc., contains the risk of preventing real leadership at that level either. Are we really destined to be a nation of individuals who only wish to make themselves rich at the expense of everyone else? Yet, without a mechanism to help people, we are left without other options.
At this point, I have jotted in my notes from the talk: “why do anything?” I like money just as much as the next guy, but there are so many ways to get there from here. If we don’t start with our fundamental beliefs – and figuring out what they are – how does anyone make a decision? (On the other hand, I get the feeling that everyone else is more decisive by nature than I am.)
I mentioned this to Brian after the talk, and he said that Katrina represented a shift in the American attitude towards government. Suddenly, everyone could see as plain as weather the need for competent representation. I’m hoping it’s a lasting effect.
I don’t know how to wrap up this post. I want to leave my readers with some really profound message, but exactly what it is eludes me. Government isn’t the problem. Government officials who blame the system which support them – those hypocrates – are the problem. And it is the responsibility of every single American to fight those messages, to make government better, to make it competent, to make it serve our needs, and to make sure every other American understands that. That’s our job. And if anyone supposedly representing us criticizes the system thru which they got that power, it’s our responsibility to impeach them.
Steven Hill pointed out that Regan was the first politician to blame government for America’s problems. “Government is the problem,” he said. But, here’s the thing: if government is bad, then why vote? This sort of ideology, particularly when asserted by our Leaders, is hugely destructive not just to government, but to the public’s interest in participating in it. No wonder apathy is rampant – entire generations have heard this message since we were small.
Republicans value business to make the individual profit. Government serves the public without self-interest (except maybe people wanting to keep their jobs…?). What motivates us to serve each other, to make our world better, if the mechanism thru which we can do that is “the problem”. Sure, there are non-profits, but the non-profit structure, with battling board members, etc., contains the risk of preventing real leadership at that level either. Are we really destined to be a nation of individuals who only wish to make themselves rich at the expense of everyone else? Yet, without a mechanism to help people, we are left without other options.
At this point, I have jotted in my notes from the talk: “why do anything?” I like money just as much as the next guy, but there are so many ways to get there from here. If we don’t start with our fundamental beliefs – and figuring out what they are – how does anyone make a decision? (On the other hand, I get the feeling that everyone else is more decisive by nature than I am.)
I mentioned this to Brian after the talk, and he said that Katrina represented a shift in the American attitude towards government. Suddenly, everyone could see as plain as weather the need for competent representation. I’m hoping it’s a lasting effect.
I don’t know how to wrap up this post. I want to leave my readers with some really profound message, but exactly what it is eludes me. Government isn’t the problem. Government officials who blame the system which support them – those hypocrates – are the problem. And it is the responsibility of every single American to fight those messages, to make government better, to make it competent, to make it serve our needs, and to make sure every other American understands that. That’s our job. And if anyone supposedly representing us criticizes the system thru which they got that power, it’s our responsibility to impeach them.
Human consciousness is like a bicycle?
I was just listening to my Scientific American podcast, and they were discussing the issues that came up at the recent World Science Forum (NYC). One was the idea that shortly, the technology will exist to make it possible for people to live forever. They mentioned people "downloading" their consciousness or even correcting "bugs" in the consciousness of their friends. This, of course, made me think of bicycles.
(Would this happen with ink blots?)
Years ago, I asked my friend James Hill who worked at the Missing Link bicycle shop how long he had had his bicycle. He shifted weight on his feet and said, that's a difficult question. What is a bicycle? You wear out parts and replace them. Is a bicycle its frame? But what if you switch all the parts from one frame to another? Likewise, if you get a new heart or kidney or "download" your consciousness to a new body, are you the same person?
I can't help but think that we are a different person (or bicycle) from one minute to the next. They say your cells turn over every 7 years (or something like that) that after 7 years you have none of the same cells that you had to begin with. Are you the same person bc you have the "same" consciousness? The same "soul"?
Some people just love to categorize. "You're intellectual" or "you’re sensitive" or "women have ESP and men don't". There are 2 kinds of people, and you're the first (whatever that is). When it’s stated seriously, this infuriates me. Keep your labels to yourself. I am the sky -- you can't fit me into any box. Likewise, if we are each a different entity from one moment to the next, we can't be categorized. Let go of the idea of separate self and embrace the idea of systemic self. We are each part of the economy, the political system, the eco-system, our community.... Isn't that a much more important, reliable identity?
(Would this happen with ink blots?)
Years ago, I asked my friend James Hill who worked at the Missing Link bicycle shop how long he had had his bicycle. He shifted weight on his feet and said, that's a difficult question. What is a bicycle? You wear out parts and replace them. Is a bicycle its frame? But what if you switch all the parts from one frame to another? Likewise, if you get a new heart or kidney or "download" your consciousness to a new body, are you the same person?
I can't help but think that we are a different person (or bicycle) from one minute to the next. They say your cells turn over every 7 years (or something like that) that after 7 years you have none of the same cells that you had to begin with. Are you the same person bc you have the "same" consciousness? The same "soul"?
Some people just love to categorize. "You're intellectual" or "you’re sensitive" or "women have ESP and men don't". There are 2 kinds of people, and you're the first (whatever that is). When it’s stated seriously, this infuriates me. Keep your labels to yourself. I am the sky -- you can't fit me into any box. Likewise, if we are each a different entity from one moment to the next, we can't be categorized. Let go of the idea of separate self and embrace the idea of systemic self. We are each part of the economy, the political system, the eco-system, our community.... Isn't that a much more important, reliable identity?
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Random quote
Whereever there is injustice, oppression, and suffering, America will show up 6 months later and bomb the country next to where it's happening.
-P J O'Rourke
-P J O'Rourke
Monday, November 13, 2006
Wrapping-up Alaska, part 1
Yeah, I’m slow. I’ve taken up Sudoku, and I occasionally mutter to myself that I might developmentally delayed as I play. I love playing with Jared bc he catches my mistakes (“there’s no 8 there.”) and every time I get stuck he provides a number that jump-starts me again. He’s tried doing crosswords with me, but I am completely hopeless with any game involving words. Sudoku is a good compromise.
Anyway, I have one more story from our trip to Alaska and then some plugs. Jared’s parents kindly delivered us to Bellingham on the day of our ferry’s departure. It was a long drive and enormously generous of them to take us all that way. I had found a nice little 12-speed Peuget bicycle, but Jared didn’t have one yet. He arranged to meet a guy he’d found thru craigslist with a Specialized Hybrid for sale. It was fortunate that we were able to take care of that business at the last minute. A planner thru-and-thru, I felt anxious about this purchase not happening until hours before we left on the boat.
Jared’s parents unloaded us onto an industrial sidewalk, and I felt another pang of anxiety. If the parents leave, who will take care of us? At that moment, I felt like an 8-year old. I don’t know if anyone noticed my eyes filling with tears. When I told Jared later about this thought, he was a little offended. Didn’t I trust him to take care of us? How like a man.
The ferry was fantastic, and, as I mentioned before, I could happily live on one for quite a while. We had a couple days to read thru guidebooks and decide where we’d get off. I’d bought the ticket to Wrangell, but we talked ourselves into changing the first stop to Petersburg. Changing the ticket was easy, and didn’t cost much more. I was surprised.
The sun was setting when we disembarked in Petersburg, and immediately it began to rain. We’d asked a guy on the boat for directions, and began racing down one of the town’s few roadways in the wrong direction. About 20 minutes later, another guy we’d met on the boat pulled over in his truck next to us – it was dark and a little scary until we figured out we knew him – it turned out that 1) we were going the wrong way (as I mentioned) and 2) the campground was closed. He suggested we camp illegally (and even had a spot picked out for us), but after heading back into town (it was getting quite late!) I cast a strong vote for camping at the divvy RV park in town.
The RV park was incredibly muddy, and imbedded in the mud was broken glass (and who knows what else – used syringes?). The shared bathroom was dirty and broken. Some down-and-out souls lived there, either in their RVs or, in some unfortunate cases, in tents with various contraptions elevating and sheltering them from the constant rain. I tried to imagine how a person could fall on so much bad luck as to live here, and I could only think that mental illness or substance abuse must be involved. One man lived next to our tent with a whole little set up, and while he sat a few feet from us the entire evening, he just stared off into the corner. I was surprised when he responded in normal-sounding English when we asked him a question.
We woke up before daybreak and broke camp never tracking down our landlords to pay the $5 we owed them for sleeping there, criminals already so early in our vacation. I don’t know if it was the weather or my mood, but the supposedly-pretty and pleasant town seemed more sad to me. We had a “real” breakfast by the boats (there was only one possible place) and killed some time before the Ranger’s office opened. The plan was to find out about available cabins in the area.
This story is already way too long, and I haven’t even gotten to the point yet. I guess I’ll go ahead and post this in hopes of writing the rest later.
Anyway, I have one more story from our trip to Alaska and then some plugs. Jared’s parents kindly delivered us to Bellingham on the day of our ferry’s departure. It was a long drive and enormously generous of them to take us all that way. I had found a nice little 12-speed Peuget bicycle, but Jared didn’t have one yet. He arranged to meet a guy he’d found thru craigslist with a Specialized Hybrid for sale. It was fortunate that we were able to take care of that business at the last minute. A planner thru-and-thru, I felt anxious about this purchase not happening until hours before we left on the boat.
Jared’s parents unloaded us onto an industrial sidewalk, and I felt another pang of anxiety. If the parents leave, who will take care of us? At that moment, I felt like an 8-year old. I don’t know if anyone noticed my eyes filling with tears. When I told Jared later about this thought, he was a little offended. Didn’t I trust him to take care of us? How like a man.
The ferry was fantastic, and, as I mentioned before, I could happily live on one for quite a while. We had a couple days to read thru guidebooks and decide where we’d get off. I’d bought the ticket to Wrangell, but we talked ourselves into changing the first stop to Petersburg. Changing the ticket was easy, and didn’t cost much more. I was surprised.
The sun was setting when we disembarked in Petersburg, and immediately it began to rain. We’d asked a guy on the boat for directions, and began racing down one of the town’s few roadways in the wrong direction. About 20 minutes later, another guy we’d met on the boat pulled over in his truck next to us – it was dark and a little scary until we figured out we knew him – it turned out that 1) we were going the wrong way (as I mentioned) and 2) the campground was closed. He suggested we camp illegally (and even had a spot picked out for us), but after heading back into town (it was getting quite late!) I cast a strong vote for camping at the divvy RV park in town.
The RV park was incredibly muddy, and imbedded in the mud was broken glass (and who knows what else – used syringes?). The shared bathroom was dirty and broken. Some down-and-out souls lived there, either in their RVs or, in some unfortunate cases, in tents with various contraptions elevating and sheltering them from the constant rain. I tried to imagine how a person could fall on so much bad luck as to live here, and I could only think that mental illness or substance abuse must be involved. One man lived next to our tent with a whole little set up, and while he sat a few feet from us the entire evening, he just stared off into the corner. I was surprised when he responded in normal-sounding English when we asked him a question.
We woke up before daybreak and broke camp never tracking down our landlords to pay the $5 we owed them for sleeping there, criminals already so early in our vacation. I don’t know if it was the weather or my mood, but the supposedly-pretty and pleasant town seemed more sad to me. We had a “real” breakfast by the boats (there was only one possible place) and killed some time before the Ranger’s office opened. The plan was to find out about available cabins in the area.
This story is already way too long, and I haven’t even gotten to the point yet. I guess I’ll go ahead and post this in hopes of writing the rest later.
Friday, November 03, 2006
My new bicycle
Jared gave me this bicycle for my birthday. I think it's the prettiest bicycle I have ever seen.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Green Challenge
Slate Green Challenge: Your eight-week carbon diet
My annual carbon emissions are 16,556.2 lbs.
Average carbon emissions per year, per person:
United States: 44,312
Qatar: 117,064
France: 13,668
India: 2,645
Kenya: 440
So, you can see, I have some work to do. You should play too.
My annual carbon emissions are 16,556.2 lbs.
Average carbon emissions per year, per person:
United States: 44,312
Qatar: 117,064
France: 13,668
India: 2,645
Kenya: 440
So, you can see, I have some work to do. You should play too.
Friday, October 27, 2006
SF's best fish and chips
Aparently this is a difficult question. I picked up a Contra Costa Times on the BART the other day and found an article about the best places to get fish and chips in their areas. Two of those places are geographically desirable to me:
Spenger's in Berkeley (been there many times as a kid)
Sea Salt on San Pablo in Berkeley (never heard of it, but interested)
In San Francisco, Edinburgh Castle was mentioned several times in my google search. I took Jared there recently and thought it was just OK. I think there had been a problem getting the food from the little store around the corner to the pub. Other places mentioned:
The Liberties on Guerrero at 22nd (been there, don't remember what I ordered)
Wilde Oscar's on Folsom at 15th (never been there, but interested now)
But, I don't know. After Alaska, I may be spoiled for the best fish and chips California has the offer.
Spenger's in Berkeley (been there many times as a kid)
Sea Salt on San Pablo in Berkeley (never heard of it, but interested)
In San Francisco, Edinburgh Castle was mentioned several times in my google search. I took Jared there recently and thought it was just OK. I think there had been a problem getting the food from the little store around the corner to the pub. Other places mentioned:
The Liberties on Guerrero at 22nd (been there, don't remember what I ordered)
Wilde Oscar's on Folsom at 15th (never been there, but interested now)
But, I don't know. After Alaska, I may be spoiled for the best fish and chips California has the offer.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Marriage trends a-changin'
....The survey revealed wide disparities in household composition by place. The proportion of married couples ranged from more than 69 percent in Utah County, Utah, which includes Provo, to 26 percent in Manhattan, which has a smaller share of married couples than almost anyplace in the country. But Manhattan registered a 1.2 percent increase in married couples since 2000, in contrast to the rest of New York City and many other places.
* Among counties, the highest proportion of unmarried opposite-sex partners was in Mendocino, Calif., where they made up nearly 11 percent of all households.
* The highest share of male couples was in San Francisco, where, according to the census, they accounted for nearly 2 percent of all households. In Manhattan, they made up 1 percent of households.
* Hampshire County, Mass., home to Northampton, had the highest proportion of female couples, at 1.7 percent.
...
A number of couples interviewed agreed that cohabiting was akin to taking a test drive and, given the scarcity of affordable apartments and homes, also a matter of convenience. Some said that pregnancy was the only thing that would prompt them to make a legal commitment soon. Others said they never intended to marry. A few of those couples said they were inspired by solidarity with gay and lesbian couples who cannot legally marry in most states.
NYT
* Among counties, the highest proportion of unmarried opposite-sex partners was in Mendocino, Calif., where they made up nearly 11 percent of all households.
* The highest share of male couples was in San Francisco, where, according to the census, they accounted for nearly 2 percent of all households. In Manhattan, they made up 1 percent of households.
* Hampshire County, Mass., home to Northampton, had the highest proportion of female couples, at 1.7 percent.
...
A number of couples interviewed agreed that cohabiting was akin to taking a test drive and, given the scarcity of affordable apartments and homes, also a matter of convenience. Some said that pregnancy was the only thing that would prompt them to make a legal commitment soon. Others said they never intended to marry. A few of those couples said they were inspired by solidarity with gay and lesbian couples who cannot legally marry in most states.
NYT
Friday, October 13, 2006
Ilana in Ecuador
Ilana says: Here are a couple of pictures from Ecuador. The first is the view from my bathroom (literally) in Chugchilan. The second is the volcanic lagoon of Quilotoa (remember the volacanic lagoon in Omatepe, Lilia?), and the last is my favorite sign in Ecuador, in a teensy village I hiked through, Guayambe I think it was called.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Failure is a Good Thing by Jon Carroll
Success is boring. Success is proving that you can do something that you already know you can do… Failure is how we learn.
The first time I played pool, I won. I explained to my friends that it's because I have an innate understanding of physics. I'm a spatial thinker. Alas. I never won again.
When my little sister was born, they gave her a bunch of tests as they do all babies. She came out low in one, and although I was 4 at the time, I remembered this. I had been a perfect baby. She, despite taking all the attention away from me, was not. As soon as she was old enough to understand, I explained this to her: she is an inferior person; in order to keep up with everyone else, she would have to work a lot harder.
So, here's the funny part: she did (work a lot harder). She's done everything I've done, but better. She's multilingual; I am not. My Master's is from Berkeley; her's Harvard. I went to a small liberal arts college in New England; she went to a better one. I've traveled around the world; she's been to 5 countries in the last 3 weeks. I chose a profession to help people (transportation planning); so did she (international education policy). Despite this paragraph, we aren't competitive. She cares more, works harder than I do, and I respect her for that.
Because of what I told her about herself (which was false, by the way) she expected to fail at first, to have to try harder. Based on my 4-year-old understanding of these tests, I always thought everything would come to me easily, because I was a perfect baby. So, Maybe I'm afraid to fail, afraid to try too hard in case I did fail. I believe that this particular form of sibling torture did her a huge favor.
I don't really have a point other than that, if we would all just embrace failure, maybe we'd all be a lot happier and more successful.
The first time I played pool, I won. I explained to my friends that it's because I have an innate understanding of physics. I'm a spatial thinker. Alas. I never won again.
When my little sister was born, they gave her a bunch of tests as they do all babies. She came out low in one, and although I was 4 at the time, I remembered this. I had been a perfect baby. She, despite taking all the attention away from me, was not. As soon as she was old enough to understand, I explained this to her: she is an inferior person; in order to keep up with everyone else, she would have to work a lot harder.
So, here's the funny part: she did (work a lot harder). She's done everything I've done, but better. She's multilingual; I am not. My Master's is from Berkeley; her's Harvard. I went to a small liberal arts college in New England; she went to a better one. I've traveled around the world; she's been to 5 countries in the last 3 weeks. I chose a profession to help people (transportation planning); so did she (international education policy). Despite this paragraph, we aren't competitive. She cares more, works harder than I do, and I respect her for that.
Because of what I told her about herself (which was false, by the way) she expected to fail at first, to have to try harder. Based on my 4-year-old understanding of these tests, I always thought everything would come to me easily, because I was a perfect baby. So, Maybe I'm afraid to fail, afraid to try too hard in case I did fail. I believe that this particular form of sibling torture did her a huge favor.
I don't really have a point other than that, if we would all just embrace failure, maybe we'd all be a lot happier and more successful.
Mary Karr and Calvin Trillin on Memoir, A City Arts and Lectures event
Last night, we went to see Calvin Trillin and Mary Karr talk about memoir as part of the City Arts and Lectures series (benefiting 826 Valencia, a NPO helping students 6-18 learn to write). DeAnne gave me the tickets bc at the last minute she couldn’t make it (had to go to LA for work). Jon Carroll introduced Mary Karr as the person who wrote “The Liars Club” and many many books of poetry. He introduced Calvin Trillin as the person who wrote half the magazine articles you’ve read in your life. He also wrote a memoir about his late wife, Alice.
Mary Karr was quick-witted and funny. Calvin Trillin was funny too, but not at all quick. It took some time to get into the rhythm of his speaking pattern and humor, but once we did he was mesmerizing. I hung on his every pause. Per DeAnne’s request, I took notes.
• MK thought she put everything she knew in her first book. Now she’s on her third.
• Jon Carroll asked if any family members or neighbors objected to the ugly things she said in her book. She said everyone knew those things. For example, the fact that her mother tried to stab her, well, she knew that she did that. It wasn’t a high point in her parenting, but it happened, and it went into the book. Likewise, that MK said that the TX town she grew up in was ugly – everyone living there knows that even though they’re from TX.
• Along the same lines, she said that she loves her mother, that 40-some-odd years of being loved by her mother wasn’t negated by this one incident where her mother tried to stab her.
• CT wrote an article about his wife where he made her a sitcom character. The book was to make her real.
• For (memoir) writers, family members are the collateral damage of war. CT said that the Dostoyevsky Rule gives you the right to tell your family’s secrets. That is, if there’s a chance you’re as great a writer as Dostoyevsky, you are entitled to share your family’s secrets. If there’s no chance of that, you aren’t entitled to it.
• MK: Memoir is different than therapy bc when you write a memoir they pay you.
• Reading memoir, or any portrayal of family (Jerry Springer? Father Knows Best?) puts your family on a spectrum with other families: you know yours is not as “perfect” or as “crazy” as that one.
• Literature makes us a community. It connects us. You read about other peoples’ families, and you can relate to their issues and learn from their experiences.
• Memory is the pellet that you put in the water of memoir and it blooms into a flower (like the kind you would get at a circus).
• CT: Your family becomes the characters in your novel. You take away their ability to write their own stories about your shared history.
• The “Quirky Beast” (such as the New Yorker) – if you tinker with it, it will fall apart. But understanding how it works now is impossible.
• A member of the audience mentioned Jon Carroll’s recent NPR piece on the benefits of failure (I am very interested in this idea.) and asked the writers about theirs.
o MK gave a few examples. One was that she is now a Guggenheim Fellow. She applied for that fellowship 18 times!
o CT described an article he wrote about a small island country called Naru. It’s on mineral deposits and turned out to be more valuable for minerals than as a country. The New Yorker bought it, but never printed it. He recently learned that they use that article to test people who want to work for the New Yorker as a copy editor. An audience member pointed out that, like the country, his article was more valuable as a copy editing test (minerals) than its intended purpose (reading pleasure, or a country).
• Another audience member mentioned that her family loves to read CT’s poetry in The Nation together.
Jared has… mentioned… my disclosures (he said he feels like Jerry Springer’s wife), and I wonder if this event helped him understand where I’m coming from a little better. I want to look into this idea of the benefits of failure some more….
Mary Karr was quick-witted and funny. Calvin Trillin was funny too, but not at all quick. It took some time to get into the rhythm of his speaking pattern and humor, but once we did he was mesmerizing. I hung on his every pause. Per DeAnne’s request, I took notes.
• MK thought she put everything she knew in her first book. Now she’s on her third.
• Jon Carroll asked if any family members or neighbors objected to the ugly things she said in her book. She said everyone knew those things. For example, the fact that her mother tried to stab her, well, she knew that she did that. It wasn’t a high point in her parenting, but it happened, and it went into the book. Likewise, that MK said that the TX town she grew up in was ugly – everyone living there knows that even though they’re from TX.
• Along the same lines, she said that she loves her mother, that 40-some-odd years of being loved by her mother wasn’t negated by this one incident where her mother tried to stab her.
• CT wrote an article about his wife where he made her a sitcom character. The book was to make her real.
• For (memoir) writers, family members are the collateral damage of war. CT said that the Dostoyevsky Rule gives you the right to tell your family’s secrets. That is, if there’s a chance you’re as great a writer as Dostoyevsky, you are entitled to share your family’s secrets. If there’s no chance of that, you aren’t entitled to it.
• MK: Memoir is different than therapy bc when you write a memoir they pay you.
• Reading memoir, or any portrayal of family (Jerry Springer? Father Knows Best?) puts your family on a spectrum with other families: you know yours is not as “perfect” or as “crazy” as that one.
• Literature makes us a community. It connects us. You read about other peoples’ families, and you can relate to their issues and learn from their experiences.
• Memory is the pellet that you put in the water of memoir and it blooms into a flower (like the kind you would get at a circus).
• CT: Your family becomes the characters in your novel. You take away their ability to write their own stories about your shared history.
• The “Quirky Beast” (such as the New Yorker) – if you tinker with it, it will fall apart. But understanding how it works now is impossible.
• A member of the audience mentioned Jon Carroll’s recent NPR piece on the benefits of failure (I am very interested in this idea.) and asked the writers about theirs.
o MK gave a few examples. One was that she is now a Guggenheim Fellow. She applied for that fellowship 18 times!
o CT described an article he wrote about a small island country called Naru. It’s on mineral deposits and turned out to be more valuable for minerals than as a country. The New Yorker bought it, but never printed it. He recently learned that they use that article to test people who want to work for the New Yorker as a copy editor. An audience member pointed out that, like the country, his article was more valuable as a copy editing test (minerals) than its intended purpose (reading pleasure, or a country).
• Another audience member mentioned that her family loves to read CT’s poetry in The Nation together.
Jared has… mentioned… my disclosures (he said he feels like Jerry Springer’s wife), and I wonder if this event helped him understand where I’m coming from a little better. I want to look into this idea of the benefits of failure some more….
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Update
I owe you some more stories about AK. That said, I have been completely overwhelmed with 2 things:
1) the gallery: my work is in the front room this month (cityartgallery.org). Since I have no new work (1), I had to spend a lot of time recycling and sorting to fill up my allotted wall space. We hung tonight (super fun!), and I feel pretty good about it. I have more work to do bf the opening on Friday (I hope you'll come!) but it feels generally under control.
2) the idea of a new bike: I have decided I want a bike with lugs, the prettier the better. So, I have been spending many hours every evening I'm not occupied searching ebay and craigslist. As you can imagine, Jared is incredibly supportive of this project. The other issue is that I noticed my Randonee doesn't fit me all that well -- it's too long. So, I have to check each bike not only for lugs and prettiness, but also for top tube length. I am going to be so knowledgeable by the time all this is thru!!!
The job search continues, and I feel optimistic about it. Just to hedge my bets, I'll apply for a few more jobs this week. Jared has had a nasty cold, but you know I am perfectly happy to sleep all the time. So, that works. Last week, I spent a big chunk of time working on a grant application for Gabe's film ("Less") about a homeless man.
I thought that selling my TV would get me to bed hours earlier. But, as you can see from the time of this post, nothing has changed.
(1) I am very excited about some of the stuff I'm working on, just not ready to put it on the walls....
1) the gallery: my work is in the front room this month (cityartgallery.org). Since I have no new work (1), I had to spend a lot of time recycling and sorting to fill up my allotted wall space. We hung tonight (super fun!), and I feel pretty good about it. I have more work to do bf the opening on Friday (I hope you'll come!) but it feels generally under control.
2) the idea of a new bike: I have decided I want a bike with lugs, the prettier the better. So, I have been spending many hours every evening I'm not occupied searching ebay and craigslist. As you can imagine, Jared is incredibly supportive of this project. The other issue is that I noticed my Randonee doesn't fit me all that well -- it's too long. So, I have to check each bike not only for lugs and prettiness, but also for top tube length. I am going to be so knowledgeable by the time all this is thru!!!
The job search continues, and I feel optimistic about it. Just to hedge my bets, I'll apply for a few more jobs this week. Jared has had a nasty cold, but you know I am perfectly happy to sleep all the time. So, that works. Last week, I spent a big chunk of time working on a grant application for Gabe's film ("Less") about a homeless man.
I thought that selling my TV would get me to bed hours earlier. But, as you can see from the time of this post, nothing has changed.
(1) I am very excited about some of the stuff I'm working on, just not ready to put it on the walls....
Monday, September 25, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Another Century
Jared and I did the Tahoe Sierra Century last weekend on a rented tandem. It was pretty intense, but we survived. It included a 6,800 foot vertical gain over the 100 miles, which is no Death Ride (15K feet over 129 miles) but impressive anyway. I'm sure you'd agree.
I really enjoyed riding the tandem with Jared, and he says it was OK too. It resolved a lot of issues that have come up with pace and talking while riding. I'm terrified to descend quickly, and there were some pretty serious descents on this ride, but I just closed my eyes and crouched against Jared's back side. We lived. We're always near each other; so, talking is only a problem when it's windy.
It's also an interesting exercise for a couple. You have to pedal in cync and communicate with your partner what you're doing and when. We chatted with one guy who said that he had been married for 25 years, and he and his wife DO NOT like to ride a tandem together. They learned that they need separate bikes. I quickly became comfortable with Jared doing all the steering -- I didn't need to look out for potholes or lean for corners. I needed to do what he asked me to do (stand, sit, work, etc.).
I really enjoyed riding the tandem with Jared, and he says it was OK too. It resolved a lot of issues that have come up with pace and talking while riding. I'm terrified to descend quickly, and there were some pretty serious descents on this ride, but I just closed my eyes and crouched against Jared's back side. We lived. We're always near each other; so, talking is only a problem when it's windy.
It's also an interesting exercise for a couple. You have to pedal in cync and communicate with your partner what you're doing and when. We chatted with one guy who said that he had been married for 25 years, and he and his wife DO NOT like to ride a tandem together. They learned that they need separate bikes. I quickly became comfortable with Jared doing all the steering -- I didn't need to look out for potholes or lean for corners. I needed to do what he asked me to do (stand, sit, work, etc.).
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Alaska (and Hood Canal) vacation
Jared has compiled, processed, titled, and posted our photos here (on 3 pages). It was my intension to post these with my trip narrative, but alas, he's way faster than I am (probably bc he has less time; have you heard the quote, "if you want something done, give it to someone who's busy"?).
Here are a few of my highlights:
1) the Salmon Migration
The creeks held literally more fish than water. You've seen the documentaries, and how amazing it is when they jump up stream. It was like that except that there really wasn't enough space for them all. They were each about the size of a boot (Jared identified various species), and when one advanced, it had to bite its companions to get them to move out of the way. I think we took a movie, but I'm not sure if it came out.
2) the Mendenhall Glacier
Huge, and absolutely phenomenal... The day we hiked up the west trail blew my mind. Make sure to try to find the people in that one photo of it on page 2. It will give you a sense of scale. I heard someone say this glacier moves 500 feet per year. Can you imagine the sheer force of an environmental event like that???!
3) the Ferry
Basically, I want to be on the ferry all the time. It's comfortable. Beautiful scenery floats past. Showers are clean and hot. It has $2.50 beers (Alaskan). The food is decent and reasonably priced. There's unlimited free hot water. Other people camping on the deck are interesting and friendly. Yeah, when you're bike-camping in the rain for 2.5 weeks maybe your standards change, but if I did this trip all over again, I would have stayed on the boat most of the time. If you go, DO NOT get a stateroom; camp on the deck.
4) the Beer
Both Haines Brewing Company (which does not distribute outside Haines) and Alaskan make great beer. At Haines, my favorites were the IPA and the Stout. At Alaskan, the ESB and... was it the stout again? I might be able to get Jared to remind me.
5) the Bear
It was a relatively brief event. You can see the dark photo. We were cooking dinner at the camp site at Mendenhall when a medium-sized black ambled into our camp, about 10 feet away, looking as if he might crawl into our tent for a little nap. He was fat and had a beautiful glossy coat. I gasped but completely forgot how you're supposed to behave. Jared yelled and waved his hands around. The bear rolled his eyes at us ("ah, campers. I wish they'd stay out of my forest," he seemed to be saying) and ambled away. Nearby a group of kids were camping, and I heard one little boy making up a song about the bear ("there was a bear. there was a bear. there was a bear right over there..."). I think he ambled thru their camp site too.
6) the Seafood
Not in AK, but the crab pot-pulling and eating in Hood Canal was awesome. Jared's mom made some crab cakes which were especially memorable. The halibut and chips in Juneau rocked too.
7) the Company
Of course
I'll post some stories another time.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Me trying to look like my mother
I visited my friend Carolyn Helmke today in Palo Alto. She set me up with some great work clothes, some hand-me-down magazines, and a free burrito. After some conversation, she decided it was important to take a picture of me that resembled this one I posted of my mother. Here's our best effort:
Your friends will save your brain... and your life.
A recent study by the Rush University Medical Center in Chicago found that women with a number of close friends and frequent social interactions are less likely to suffer from heart disease, Alzheimer's and dementia.
Friday, September 15, 2006
I sold my TV!
Craigslist is amazing! Should I admit that I got nearly what I paid for it?
In other news, studies show that tall people earn more money than short people by 2% per inch. Also, input increases output. The source of productivity is a refreshed mind.
Source for both: my NPR Podcasts
In other news, studies show that tall people earn more money than short people by 2% per inch. Also, input increases output. The source of productivity is a refreshed mind.
Source for both: my NPR Podcasts
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Moving towards a totally self-programmed world
I don't remember if I've mentioned that I have become completely obsessed with podcasts recently. I basically don't even listen to the radio or look at google news anymore, because I now get my news from the sources and on the topics that I've pre-selected. I'm also actively pursuing selling my TV, and may join a DVD rental club to be entertained entirely by pre-selected programs on my computer.
However, I'm a little scared. I was not permitted to watch television as a child, which made me even more of a misfit than my personality and genetics had already set me up to be. I had no idea what the other kids were talking about and rarely got the mass-media-referential jokes. I would laugh anyway, but they saw right thru me. You know how kids are. So, I'm wondering now if, by self-programming all my media inputs, am I isolating myself yet again? Or is this something everyone is doing? And if it is, are we isolating ourselves from each other?
I don't remember if it was the last national election or the one before that when a lot emails went around about how we, humor me as I call us the Educated Class, have no idea what's going on in the minds of the rest of our country. Because if they were privy to even the smallest amt of knowledge and information we were, how on earth would we, collectively, have elected That Man as our President? We all vowed to talk to our distant friends and relatives who might be Republicans or even just live not on a coast, to share information, to promote Democracy. I've tried to do that. At the same time, now, I'm setting up my own little self-programmed universe where everyone I talk to less than once a week is getting their information from absolutely, completely different sources.
This hints at the concept of brainwashing, and the effect media has on culture, but I'm in no mood to go there right now. I know you want to hear about Alaska, and I'll tell you all about it... later.
However, I'm a little scared. I was not permitted to watch television as a child, which made me even more of a misfit than my personality and genetics had already set me up to be. I had no idea what the other kids were talking about and rarely got the mass-media-referential jokes. I would laugh anyway, but they saw right thru me. You know how kids are. So, I'm wondering now if, by self-programming all my media inputs, am I isolating myself yet again? Or is this something everyone is doing? And if it is, are we isolating ourselves from each other?
I don't remember if it was the last national election or the one before that when a lot emails went around about how we, humor me as I call us the Educated Class, have no idea what's going on in the minds of the rest of our country. Because if they were privy to even the smallest amt of knowledge and information we were, how on earth would we, collectively, have elected That Man as our President? We all vowed to talk to our distant friends and relatives who might be Republicans or even just live not on a coast, to share information, to promote Democracy. I've tried to do that. At the same time, now, I'm setting up my own little self-programmed universe where everyone I talk to less than once a week is getting their information from absolutely, completely different sources.
This hints at the concept of brainwashing, and the effect media has on culture, but I'm in no mood to go there right now. I know you want to hear about Alaska, and I'll tell you all about it... later.
Teenagers
My friend Carolyn Helmke said a very interesting thing on the phone today that I wanted to share with you. She suggested that, biologically, the reason teenagers are so unpleasant to their parents is to make it easier, perhaps even possible, for the parents to let them leave the nest. Sure, everyone always talks about teenagers' need to individuate, but I never thought about it as something that the parents need to let them.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Alaska vacation
Jared and I are going to Alaska for 3 weeks on Thursday. I know I haven't posted very regularly lately, but I didn't want you to worry if I don't post for a few weeks. I will be available by mobile phone.
We fly to Seattle on Thursday morning. There, we'll spend a few days with Jared's family on Hood Canal where they keep a little vacation house. Tuesday evening, we board a ferry from Bellingham to Wrangell, AK where we arrive 2 days later. We fly out of Sitka 2.5 weeks later. What happens in between is anyone's guess, but I bet it will involve a tent. I've heard it's beautiful up there, and I'm looking forward to telling you all about it.
We fly to Seattle on Thursday morning. There, we'll spend a few days with Jared's family on Hood Canal where they keep a little vacation house. Tuesday evening, we board a ferry from Bellingham to Wrangell, AK where we arrive 2 days later. We fly out of Sitka 2.5 weeks later. What happens in between is anyone's guess, but I bet it will involve a tent. I've heard it's beautiful up there, and I'm looking forward to telling you all about it.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
On making love stay....
Finally, my response to the Bronson/Merryman article on predicting marital longevity.
My first thought out of the gate here is: what makes us think that relationships are supposed to last? Why, as a society, do we hope for love to stay? Maybe love is something that happens now and then and passes, sort of like food poisoning? One of the things my friends and I like to remind ourselves of is to stop beating ourselves up for things we just aren’t.
Biologically, the t-shirt study (Wedekind, 1995) indicated that women are programmed to go out into the world and get ourselves knocked up by men who we are genetically different from, and, then, have men who are genetically similar to us care for us thru delivery until, presumably, we’re ready to get knocked up again. (I extrapolate wildly.) So, this provides scientific evidence towards cynicism? I believe the lifelong partner concept may be some kind of perverse sociological infliction, like sleeping at night or the right to parking, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one.
There was one night in Paris, Christian and I were on our 3rd bottle of wine, and I talked how surprised I am every time a relationship ends. He said (I paraphrase) “You always think they’re going to last forever at the beginning. You have to, or you wouldn’t be able fall in love.” It’s that suspension of disbelief that they talk about in the theater; you forget that your feet are on the ground in a world where the only things you can count on are death and taxes. On the other hand, I also believe that there are times when you just know the future of a relationship, either way.
More recently, Jared was telling me about this book he read on primates. He claimed it explains in detail why primates couple, and why, from a biological stand point, that works best. He didn’t remember all the details of the argument, but he did say that the book argued, from a biological standpoint, that coupling is more advantageous for women (and female primates), and that’s the reason male infidelity is more common. I found this last statement somewhat shocking. Sure, it’s the stereotype that male infidelity is more common, but I think that’s mythology. In the mainstream, women are just better at keeping secrets than men, and men are more likely to brag about their conquests. In my social universe, male infidelity definitely isn’t more common.
Life is long and complicated, and nearly everything is transient. Some humans have a greater need for the feeling of permanence than others. Some, even, thrive in an environment of impermanence and stability makes them nervous. So, yeah, nothing lasts forever and we are born to die, but the real question we need to address is “how are we going to live?” I want to live like all my dreams will come true. I want to believe in unicorns and fairy god mothers. The power of positive thinking can’t be underestimated.
It’s like Alison said “getting married is the most optimistic act I have ever committed.” She also said: “It’s practical, you get rights and recognition instantly, and telling people you are committed does strengthen your commitment. It is also an optimistic act (like having a child), and we all need more optimistic acts. When else can you get people to celebrate you, what you are doing in your life?”
But there is sometimes some confusion. Some people seem to think that getting married is a rite of passage. You graduate; you get married; you have a family, each at a certain stage in your life. It’s what you do. This offends my idealistic vision of Love. Kevin used to point out that the bible recommends staying single; that marriage is something you do only in the rare case that you fall in love. That makes sense to me. I’m sure you’ve heard my tirade against the music industry for brain washing us into believing that the only time we’ll feel anything strongly is thru falling in love. It’s this type of message that creates a society of complacents. The world contains so many other things we should feel passionately about, and we certainly can’t expect that to come from another person very often.
Yet, some of us are love-prone. I’m not going to try to find the citation, but I remember my mother reading years ago that if you have fallen in love more than 6 times in your lifetime, you are “love prone” and you present a small percentage of the population. My mother, of course, is love-prone. I’m, of course, wondering how we’re defining “in love”.
So, when the Bronson/Merryman article discusses these couples who move in together because it’s convenient and then get married to “solve” a problem in their relationship (I’ve heard this so many times!), I feel …insulted. The housework indicator they mention is a little like the “yes, dear” indicator of about 10 years ago (Gottman of UW found this was the single indicator of a lasting marriage). Of course, reading thru this, I can’t help but wonder how to predict a *happy* LTR (not the same as a lasting one. Of course, that involves defining a lot of terms, which scares me off right now). Like with happiness, a relatively little amt of money helps a whole lot say Bronson and Merryman. Is it, again, 15K? No, the article says “If this couple will earn a modest $50,000 as a family, their odds of seeing their 15th anniversary jump to 68%.”
There are a lot of ways to commit to another person. Sam’s parents bought a house together and had him. Nearly 30 years later, they decided to have a wedding (last year). The same story with my friends in London, Linda and David, although I think the house might have been hers at first. (Linda and David said they wanted to wait to have a wedding until their son could enjoy it.) I like Bronson and Merryman’s observation that “Homeowners aren't happier in marriage than renters, but there's a permanence to their life — a connection to a community.” Maybe Alison would say that homeownership is an act of optimism.
We can’t control our relationships with our parents; I mean, not really. But I do like Bronson/Merryman’s statistic about children of divorced parents who didn’t fight openly not trusting their relationships. Jared is always trying to get me to talk about stuff; on the other hand, he completely disagreed with me when I called myself conflict-avoidant the other day. While I saw my mother fight with her exes, I can tell you with absolute certainty that she doesn’t know how to resolve conflict constructively (sorry, mom). I’m really trying to learn.
I’m convinced there’s something in the water. The vast majority of my friends are getting married and pregnant, buying houses, relocating together. It’s partially bc many of my friends I met in grad school and we finished 5ish years ago. Their careers are settled. It’s time for the next step. No surprise there. But true love doesn’t follow a convenient time pattern, or at least that makes me question its presence. Maybe falling in love *is* a rite of passage. Maybe when your heart is open and you know who you are, you’re able to be amazed by another person, and it’s completely natural to want to celebrate that. In a world where people are killing each other for reasons that don’t make any sense and our lifestyle is destroying the planet, we need something to believe in, and maybe that can be each other.
My first thought out of the gate here is: what makes us think that relationships are supposed to last? Why, as a society, do we hope for love to stay? Maybe love is something that happens now and then and passes, sort of like food poisoning? One of the things my friends and I like to remind ourselves of is to stop beating ourselves up for things we just aren’t.
Biologically, the t-shirt study (Wedekind, 1995) indicated that women are programmed to go out into the world and get ourselves knocked up by men who we are genetically different from, and, then, have men who are genetically similar to us care for us thru delivery until, presumably, we’re ready to get knocked up again. (I extrapolate wildly.) So, this provides scientific evidence towards cynicism? I believe the lifelong partner concept may be some kind of perverse sociological infliction, like sleeping at night or the right to parking, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one.
There was one night in Paris, Christian and I were on our 3rd bottle of wine, and I talked how surprised I am every time a relationship ends. He said (I paraphrase) “You always think they’re going to last forever at the beginning. You have to, or you wouldn’t be able fall in love.” It’s that suspension of disbelief that they talk about in the theater; you forget that your feet are on the ground in a world where the only things you can count on are death and taxes. On the other hand, I also believe that there are times when you just know the future of a relationship, either way.
More recently, Jared was telling me about this book he read on primates. He claimed it explains in detail why primates couple, and why, from a biological stand point, that works best. He didn’t remember all the details of the argument, but he did say that the book argued, from a biological standpoint, that coupling is more advantageous for women (and female primates), and that’s the reason male infidelity is more common. I found this last statement somewhat shocking. Sure, it’s the stereotype that male infidelity is more common, but I think that’s mythology. In the mainstream, women are just better at keeping secrets than men, and men are more likely to brag about their conquests. In my social universe, male infidelity definitely isn’t more common.
Life is long and complicated, and nearly everything is transient. Some humans have a greater need for the feeling of permanence than others. Some, even, thrive in an environment of impermanence and stability makes them nervous. So, yeah, nothing lasts forever and we are born to die, but the real question we need to address is “how are we going to live?” I want to live like all my dreams will come true. I want to believe in unicorns and fairy god mothers. The power of positive thinking can’t be underestimated.
It’s like Alison said “getting married is the most optimistic act I have ever committed.” She also said: “It’s practical, you get rights and recognition instantly, and telling people you are committed does strengthen your commitment. It is also an optimistic act (like having a child), and we all need more optimistic acts. When else can you get people to celebrate you, what you are doing in your life?”
But there is sometimes some confusion. Some people seem to think that getting married is a rite of passage. You graduate; you get married; you have a family, each at a certain stage in your life. It’s what you do. This offends my idealistic vision of Love. Kevin used to point out that the bible recommends staying single; that marriage is something you do only in the rare case that you fall in love. That makes sense to me. I’m sure you’ve heard my tirade against the music industry for brain washing us into believing that the only time we’ll feel anything strongly is thru falling in love. It’s this type of message that creates a society of complacents. The world contains so many other things we should feel passionately about, and we certainly can’t expect that to come from another person very often.
Yet, some of us are love-prone. I’m not going to try to find the citation, but I remember my mother reading years ago that if you have fallen in love more than 6 times in your lifetime, you are “love prone” and you present a small percentage of the population. My mother, of course, is love-prone. I’m, of course, wondering how we’re defining “in love”.
So, when the Bronson/Merryman article discusses these couples who move in together because it’s convenient and then get married to “solve” a problem in their relationship (I’ve heard this so many times!), I feel …insulted. The housework indicator they mention is a little like the “yes, dear” indicator of about 10 years ago (Gottman of UW found this was the single indicator of a lasting marriage). Of course, reading thru this, I can’t help but wonder how to predict a *happy* LTR (not the same as a lasting one. Of course, that involves defining a lot of terms, which scares me off right now). Like with happiness, a relatively little amt of money helps a whole lot say Bronson and Merryman. Is it, again, 15K? No, the article says “If this couple will earn a modest $50,000 as a family, their odds of seeing their 15th anniversary jump to 68%.”
There are a lot of ways to commit to another person. Sam’s parents bought a house together and had him. Nearly 30 years later, they decided to have a wedding (last year). The same story with my friends in London, Linda and David, although I think the house might have been hers at first. (Linda and David said they wanted to wait to have a wedding until their son could enjoy it.) I like Bronson and Merryman’s observation that “Homeowners aren't happier in marriage than renters, but there's a permanence to their life — a connection to a community.” Maybe Alison would say that homeownership is an act of optimism.
We can’t control our relationships with our parents; I mean, not really. But I do like Bronson/Merryman’s statistic about children of divorced parents who didn’t fight openly not trusting their relationships. Jared is always trying to get me to talk about stuff; on the other hand, he completely disagreed with me when I called myself conflict-avoidant the other day. While I saw my mother fight with her exes, I can tell you with absolute certainty that she doesn’t know how to resolve conflict constructively (sorry, mom). I’m really trying to learn.
I’m convinced there’s something in the water. The vast majority of my friends are getting married and pregnant, buying houses, relocating together. It’s partially bc many of my friends I met in grad school and we finished 5ish years ago. Their careers are settled. It’s time for the next step. No surprise there. But true love doesn’t follow a convenient time pattern, or at least that makes me question its presence. Maybe falling in love *is* a rite of passage. Maybe when your heart is open and you know who you are, you’re able to be amazed by another person, and it’s completely natural to want to celebrate that. In a world where people are killing each other for reasons that don’t make any sense and our lifestyle is destroying the planet, we need something to believe in, and maybe that can be each other.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sweet and charming travel video
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiGDSr_DFlE
Grace says: This brightened my day.
I say: See any place you want to go? Let's!
Grace says: This brightened my day.
I say: See any place you want to go? Let's!
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Predicting marital longevity
A forward from my mother:
http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1209784,00.html
I have a lot to say about this.... consider it forthcoming.
http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,1209784,00.html
I have a lot to say about this.... consider it forthcoming.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Happiness
I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately. It’s resulted in a lot of talk, and since my friends actually read, that results and being referred to books and articles. Tam’s been going thru back issues of the New Yorker, and she passed along to me one with a dual book review on happiness (2/27/06, John Lanchester, “Pursuiting Happiness”). Well, it’s presented as book reviews, but really it’s an article.
It said 7 mention-worthy things:
1) Happiness is the result of 3 components: your set point (S), the conditions of you life (C), and your voluntary activities (V). So, here’s the equation:
H=S+C+V
You don’t have any control over S and only a little over C, but you have a lot of control over V.
2) Unhappiness is biological. The article gave the example to 2 pre-historic hunter-gatherers, one cautious and the other carefree. The carefree one is happier, but he’s also likely eat poison berries, be eaten by a bear or wild cat. The other is more likely to survive and reproduce. So, from a Darwinian point of view, we are breed to be unhappy. As a result, we have a stronger reaction to the negative things in life than to the positive.
3) Emotion is what makes it possible for us to make decisions. People who suffer damage to their frontal cortex and are left with rational thought but no emotional experience are paralyzed when confronted with a simple choice.
4) Some people are unhappy bc they are poor. But rich people aren’t any happier than people who have just enough. A British economist (Layard) found that the threshold is $15K. I wonder if this should be adjusted for local economic conditions; 15K doesn’t go very far in SF.
5) Winning the lottery is better than breaking your neck, but a year afterwards, these people have gone back to their baseline happiness level (S). So, winning the lottery is not as much better than breaking your neck as you might think (Haidt).
6) Top 4 favorite activities: sex, socializing after work, dinner, and relaxing;
Top 4 least favorite activities: commuting, work, childcare, and housework (Kahneman)
Along the same lines, when examining data on people who have committed suicide, no matter how you examine the data, people with fewer social “constraints, bonds, and obligations” (all remarkably negative words) are more likely to kill themselves. In other words, Friends = Happiness; big surprise!
7) I mentioned in an earlier blog a radio show I heard on NPR talking about the concept of “flow”, “the state of total immersion in a task that is challenging yet closely matched to one’s abilities”. Flow makes people happy. Happiness is a “by-product of absorption” (Haidt).
I can’t help but apply this to relationships. Maybe people who make us happy are both challenging and like us. So, from a biological stand point, in its simplest terms, this means that smart people would be programmed to produce smart children and stupid people, stupid children. But maybe that’s oversimplifying. Perhaps musical, or mathematical, or linguistic people will each mate and produce children with those talents resulting in the polarization of social groups and increasing difficulty communicating between groups. I think this is what's happening in National American politics or something along these lines.
It said 7 mention-worthy things:
1) Happiness is the result of 3 components: your set point (S), the conditions of you life (C), and your voluntary activities (V). So, here’s the equation:
H=S+C+V
You don’t have any control over S and only a little over C, but you have a lot of control over V.
2) Unhappiness is biological. The article gave the example to 2 pre-historic hunter-gatherers, one cautious and the other carefree. The carefree one is happier, but he’s also likely eat poison berries, be eaten by a bear or wild cat. The other is more likely to survive and reproduce. So, from a Darwinian point of view, we are breed to be unhappy. As a result, we have a stronger reaction to the negative things in life than to the positive.
3) Emotion is what makes it possible for us to make decisions. People who suffer damage to their frontal cortex and are left with rational thought but no emotional experience are paralyzed when confronted with a simple choice.
4) Some people are unhappy bc they are poor. But rich people aren’t any happier than people who have just enough. A British economist (Layard) found that the threshold is $15K. I wonder if this should be adjusted for local economic conditions; 15K doesn’t go very far in SF.
5) Winning the lottery is better than breaking your neck, but a year afterwards, these people have gone back to their baseline happiness level (S). So, winning the lottery is not as much better than breaking your neck as you might think (Haidt).
6) Top 4 favorite activities: sex, socializing after work, dinner, and relaxing;
Top 4 least favorite activities: commuting, work, childcare, and housework (Kahneman)
Along the same lines, when examining data on people who have committed suicide, no matter how you examine the data, people with fewer social “constraints, bonds, and obligations” (all remarkably negative words) are more likely to kill themselves. In other words, Friends = Happiness; big surprise!
7) I mentioned in an earlier blog a radio show I heard on NPR talking about the concept of “flow”, “the state of total immersion in a task that is challenging yet closely matched to one’s abilities”. Flow makes people happy. Happiness is a “by-product of absorption” (Haidt).
I can’t help but apply this to relationships. Maybe people who make us happy are both challenging and like us. So, from a biological stand point, in its simplest terms, this means that smart people would be programmed to produce smart children and stupid people, stupid children. But maybe that’s oversimplifying. Perhaps musical, or mathematical, or linguistic people will each mate and produce children with those talents resulting in the polarization of social groups and increasing difficulty communicating between groups. I think this is what's happening in National American politics or something along these lines.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
How to Train a Woman
An article from my mother:
http://www.nytimes.com/
July 5, 2006
Op-Ed Columnist
How to Train a Woman
By MAUREEN DOWD
Washington
Women may want to mold their men to be more obedient and less irksome, but there are nagging questions about nagging:
Does it work? And can you do it while you're dating or should you wait until you're married?
In "The Break-Up," Jennifer Aniston dumps her boyfriend because he not only won't do the dishes, but he doesn't want to do the dishes. But in "Guys and Dolls," Adelaide advises waiting because "you can't get alterations on a dress you haven't bought."
Amy Sutherland struck a chord with her recent Times essay — still high on the most e-mailed list — about how she successfully applied the techniques of exotic animal trainers to change some annoying traits of her husband, Scott. He became her guinea pig for methods she discovered as she researched a book on trainers teaching hyenas to pirouette, baboons to skateboard and elephants to paint.
"The central lesson I learned from exotic animal trainers is that I should reward behavior I like and ignore behavior I don't," she wrote. "After all, you don't get a sea lion to balance a ball on the end of its nose by nagging."
She began using "approximations," which means rewarding the small steps toward learning a whole new behavior. "With the baboon you first reward a hop, then a bigger hop, then an even bigger hop," she wrote. "With Scott the husband, I began to praise every small act every time: if he drove just a mile an hour slower, tossed one pair of shorts into the hamper, or was on time for anything."
She also learned the concept of "incompatible behavior," training an animal in a new behavior that would make the annoying behavior impossible. To keep Scott from crowding her while she cooked, she set a bowl of chips and salsa across the room.
Could it be that simple? And does it work the other way around — can men train women using exotic animal techniques?
Helen Fisher, a Rutgers anthropologist and the author of "Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love," speculated that it might be easier for men to train women because "women are better at reading the emotions in your voice, better at seeing things in their peripheral vision, better at seeing in the dark. So just the man's tone of voice as opposed to even the words could be rewarding."
Both sexes would be better off following the lead of animal trainers and ignoring irritating bad behavior.
"Women are more verbal," she said. "But that doesn't mean that men aren't manipulative. I think both sexes are busy manipulating each other. Women will nag and men will tease. There's a kind of teasing that's just cloaked nagging."
She observed that it may be hard for men to use compliments to alter female behavior because women give and get so many polite or insincere compliments from other women that they're immune to flattering words.
"Men and women tend to get intimacy differently," she explained. "Women get intimacy from face-to-face contact. We do what we call the anchoring gaze. It comes from millions of years of holding your baby in front of your face. Men tend to get intimacy by doing things side by side, because for millions of years they faced their enemy but sat side by side with their friends.
"If I were a man rewarding a woman, I'd do it in the format women find intimate, which is face to face. I'd go straight up to her, while she was doing the dishes, I'd turn her around face to face, and I'd say: 'Thanks so much for being on time last night. It meant a lot to me.' " (You might also tell her that you will not only finish the dishes, but that you want to finish the dishes.)
Training your mate may be essential in an era when everybody is more connected and yet less. A new study in the American Sociological Review suggests that Americans may be getting lonelier and more isolated, with people relying more on family and making fewer close friends and confidants from clubs and the neighborhood than they did 20 years ago. So if they lose a spouse or partner, their whole social safety net can disintegrate.
The romantic relationship, Dr. Fisher says, "is more poignant, focused and important than ever. It's also the one part of our lives we feel we have some control over. It's hard to change your boss or the conductor on the train. But if we can keep our partner from dumping their dirty socks, that may make us feel sexier after dinner."
But if they must dump their dirty socks, let's hope they can at least balance a ball on their nose.
http://www.nytimes.com/
July 5, 2006
Op-Ed Columnist
How to Train a Woman
By MAUREEN DOWD
Washington
Women may want to mold their men to be more obedient and less irksome, but there are nagging questions about nagging:
Does it work? And can you do it while you're dating or should you wait until you're married?
In "The Break-Up," Jennifer Aniston dumps her boyfriend because he not only won't do the dishes, but he doesn't want to do the dishes. But in "Guys and Dolls," Adelaide advises waiting because "you can't get alterations on a dress you haven't bought."
Amy Sutherland struck a chord with her recent Times essay — still high on the most e-mailed list — about how she successfully applied the techniques of exotic animal trainers to change some annoying traits of her husband, Scott. He became her guinea pig for methods she discovered as she researched a book on trainers teaching hyenas to pirouette, baboons to skateboard and elephants to paint.
"The central lesson I learned from exotic animal trainers is that I should reward behavior I like and ignore behavior I don't," she wrote. "After all, you don't get a sea lion to balance a ball on the end of its nose by nagging."
She began using "approximations," which means rewarding the small steps toward learning a whole new behavior. "With the baboon you first reward a hop, then a bigger hop, then an even bigger hop," she wrote. "With Scott the husband, I began to praise every small act every time: if he drove just a mile an hour slower, tossed one pair of shorts into the hamper, or was on time for anything."
She also learned the concept of "incompatible behavior," training an animal in a new behavior that would make the annoying behavior impossible. To keep Scott from crowding her while she cooked, she set a bowl of chips and salsa across the room.
Could it be that simple? And does it work the other way around — can men train women using exotic animal techniques?
Helen Fisher, a Rutgers anthropologist and the author of "Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love," speculated that it might be easier for men to train women because "women are better at reading the emotions in your voice, better at seeing things in their peripheral vision, better at seeing in the dark. So just the man's tone of voice as opposed to even the words could be rewarding."
Both sexes would be better off following the lead of animal trainers and ignoring irritating bad behavior.
"Women are more verbal," she said. "But that doesn't mean that men aren't manipulative. I think both sexes are busy manipulating each other. Women will nag and men will tease. There's a kind of teasing that's just cloaked nagging."
She observed that it may be hard for men to use compliments to alter female behavior because women give and get so many polite or insincere compliments from other women that they're immune to flattering words.
"Men and women tend to get intimacy differently," she explained. "Women get intimacy from face-to-face contact. We do what we call the anchoring gaze. It comes from millions of years of holding your baby in front of your face. Men tend to get intimacy by doing things side by side, because for millions of years they faced their enemy but sat side by side with their friends.
"If I were a man rewarding a woman, I'd do it in the format women find intimate, which is face to face. I'd go straight up to her, while she was doing the dishes, I'd turn her around face to face, and I'd say: 'Thanks so much for being on time last night. It meant a lot to me.' " (You might also tell her that you will not only finish the dishes, but that you want to finish the dishes.)
Training your mate may be essential in an era when everybody is more connected and yet less. A new study in the American Sociological Review suggests that Americans may be getting lonelier and more isolated, with people relying more on family and making fewer close friends and confidants from clubs and the neighborhood than they did 20 years ago. So if they lose a spouse or partner, their whole social safety net can disintegrate.
The romantic relationship, Dr. Fisher says, "is more poignant, focused and important than ever. It's also the one part of our lives we feel we have some control over. It's hard to change your boss or the conductor on the train. But if we can keep our partner from dumping their dirty socks, that may make us feel sexier after dinner."
But if they must dump their dirty socks, let's hope they can at least balance a ball on their nose.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Observations on American Cities and Culture
Home Is Where the Heart Is Open
Alison sent me this article some time ago. I must have been busy that week, bc it fell to the bottom of my inbox, and I didn't unearth it until just now. I don't think the article is named appropriately, but I do think you'll find it fascinating.
Alison sent me this article some time ago. I must have been busy that week, bc it fell to the bottom of my inbox, and I didn't unearth it until just now. I don't think the article is named appropriately, but I do think you'll find it fascinating.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Friday, June 30, 2006
Random quote
To see the world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wildflower:
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
-William Blake
And a heaven in a wildflower:
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
-William Blake
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Emotional arithmetic
(or the meaning of “We”)
Jared and I have known eachother for 4.5 months now, and there’s a lot of “we” going on. Then there’s conflict about that “we”ing. For example, before getting into Jared’s car to drive to LA, I said: “How do we feel about food?” which was code for “do you want to pick up some snacks to eat in the car or would you prefer to stop for food along the way? It doesn’t make sense to do both.” He must have been tired, bc he wasn’t able to decode my message. But that’s another issue all together.
I think the sounds of “we” eclipsed his ability to translate my question into plan English. Later, he was speaking on the phone, arranging for us to meet someone for dinner. He said, “I will be coming from the airport.” After he got off the phone, I asked “Will we be traveling separately?” bc it wasn’t clear to me why he couldn’t say “we will be coming from the airport,” which is likely more accurate. How did plain language become so loaded? If Jared and I are traveling in the car together, the correct pronoun is “we”.
Likewise, if _I_ feel someway and _he_ feels the same way, then _we_ feel that way. Of course, we had to pick this apart late into the night. As part of this process, he came up with the concept of emotional arithmetic, although now that I type this up, it makes less sense to me.
He likened “we” to truth tables: if A is true, AND B is true, then A+B is true. Actually, it can be used for AND, OR, NOT and a variety of other ways. So, when I say “we like whole grain bread” it’s not that I’m usurping his authority on his own preferences. It’s that I know that I prefer whole grain bread, and Jared prefers whole grain bread. Therefore I can safely say that WE prefer whole grain bread.
So, what I was asking about food and the car we for him to negotiate with me about how we would handle food in the car. I was not simply asking how he wanted to feed himself. Two people made the journey. I feel that I can safely speak for both us when I say that we both require nutriance. Therefore, I think it’s also fair to discuss each of our preferences and come up with a consensus.
It seems I can’t win on this “we” issue. Not only does Jared have issues with me speaking for him (“we went to the movies.” Well, we did! We also both road in the car. Ugh!) He also has issues when I use “we” in reference to myself and other people. “The last time I was in LA, we went to a restaurant on Wilshire.” Now, I think it should be pretty clear that the “we” I mean does not include Jared. But now, he has to say “I wasn’t here…?” and wants to know who I’m talking about.
When we discussed this the other night, I said, “this would make a great blog post on relationships.” But now that I’m trying to type it up, I’m thinking maybe not. Maybe I’m sharing just a little too much about this relationship. I think I’ll mull it over for a while before posting.
***
It’s the next day, and I talked with Jared about this post and my feelings about it. I suggested perhaps the “we” issue is his form of what we call an “oatmeal moment”. He said that’s possible, but he wants to make it clear that he just wants to understand what the decision tree is for what “we feel”. He thinks it’s unnecessarily complicated to feel things collectively.
Over the past few months, we have developed a bit of our own language. The joke/fear is that, shortly, none of our friends will understand us. But then, it provides the opportunity to explain our language, which can be fun. But you’re still wondering, what is an “oatmeal moment”? Well, it’s pretty much the opposite of what it sounds like.
The Oatmeal Moment
We’d been dating only a few weeks (and been on maybe 4 or 5 dates only) when it came up that I like to eat oatmeal for breakfast. The next time we saw each other, he told me that he’d been looking at oatmeal in the grocery store (he didn’t buy any bc they didn’t have the right kind). My reaction? Well, I kinda freak out in the line of “we only just started seeing each other. It’s way too early for you to be shopping for me.” I took some deep breaths and it passed, but an “oatmeal moment” is basically a moment of commitment phobia where you think “this is going too fast”.
What Do You Think About This Relationship? (Don’t answer, read on for explanation….)
We have another one we call “what do you think about this relationship?” which is roughly the opposite of an oatmeal moment. Around the same time (date 5 or so), I mentioned that 2 of the artists at Creative Growth appeared to be dating and described them a little. At this point in the conversation, there was some environmental distraction (likely a good looking bike, knowing us). When it passed, Jared paused and then said “So, what do you think about this relationship?”
I, then, wrongly assumed that he meant the relationship between him and me and not the relationship between these artists at Creative Growth. I thought to myself “he’s about to break up with me” and began racking my brain for any additional evidence that that was possible. Except there wasn’t any. I turned and looked into his face, mine filled with anxiety. He, of course, read this in my face and began stammering to clarify. So, “what do you think about this relationship?” is that moment when you misinterpret what someone has said to mean that they are about to leave you when that’s not what they meant at all. It happens more than you might think.
Jared and I have known eachother for 4.5 months now, and there’s a lot of “we” going on. Then there’s conflict about that “we”ing. For example, before getting into Jared’s car to drive to LA, I said: “How do we feel about food?” which was code for “do you want to pick up some snacks to eat in the car or would you prefer to stop for food along the way? It doesn’t make sense to do both.” He must have been tired, bc he wasn’t able to decode my message. But that’s another issue all together.
I think the sounds of “we” eclipsed his ability to translate my question into plan English. Later, he was speaking on the phone, arranging for us to meet someone for dinner. He said, “I will be coming from the airport.” After he got off the phone, I asked “Will we be traveling separately?” bc it wasn’t clear to me why he couldn’t say “we will be coming from the airport,” which is likely more accurate. How did plain language become so loaded? If Jared and I are traveling in the car together, the correct pronoun is “we”.
Likewise, if _I_ feel someway and _he_ feels the same way, then _we_ feel that way. Of course, we had to pick this apart late into the night. As part of this process, he came up with the concept of emotional arithmetic, although now that I type this up, it makes less sense to me.
He likened “we” to truth tables: if A is true, AND B is true, then A+B is true. Actually, it can be used for AND, OR, NOT and a variety of other ways. So, when I say “we like whole grain bread” it’s not that I’m usurping his authority on his own preferences. It’s that I know that I prefer whole grain bread, and Jared prefers whole grain bread. Therefore I can safely say that WE prefer whole grain bread.
So, what I was asking about food and the car we for him to negotiate with me about how we would handle food in the car. I was not simply asking how he wanted to feed himself. Two people made the journey. I feel that I can safely speak for both us when I say that we both require nutriance. Therefore, I think it’s also fair to discuss each of our preferences and come up with a consensus.
It seems I can’t win on this “we” issue. Not only does Jared have issues with me speaking for him (“we went to the movies.” Well, we did! We also both road in the car. Ugh!) He also has issues when I use “we” in reference to myself and other people. “The last time I was in LA, we went to a restaurant on Wilshire.” Now, I think it should be pretty clear that the “we” I mean does not include Jared. But now, he has to say “I wasn’t here…?” and wants to know who I’m talking about.
When we discussed this the other night, I said, “this would make a great blog post on relationships.” But now that I’m trying to type it up, I’m thinking maybe not. Maybe I’m sharing just a little too much about this relationship. I think I’ll mull it over for a while before posting.
***
It’s the next day, and I talked with Jared about this post and my feelings about it. I suggested perhaps the “we” issue is his form of what we call an “oatmeal moment”. He said that’s possible, but he wants to make it clear that he just wants to understand what the decision tree is for what “we feel”. He thinks it’s unnecessarily complicated to feel things collectively.
Over the past few months, we have developed a bit of our own language. The joke/fear is that, shortly, none of our friends will understand us. But then, it provides the opportunity to explain our language, which can be fun. But you’re still wondering, what is an “oatmeal moment”? Well, it’s pretty much the opposite of what it sounds like.
The Oatmeal Moment
We’d been dating only a few weeks (and been on maybe 4 or 5 dates only) when it came up that I like to eat oatmeal for breakfast. The next time we saw each other, he told me that he’d been looking at oatmeal in the grocery store (he didn’t buy any bc they didn’t have the right kind). My reaction? Well, I kinda freak out in the line of “we only just started seeing each other. It’s way too early for you to be shopping for me.” I took some deep breaths and it passed, but an “oatmeal moment” is basically a moment of commitment phobia where you think “this is going too fast”.
What Do You Think About This Relationship? (Don’t answer, read on for explanation….)
We have another one we call “what do you think about this relationship?” which is roughly the opposite of an oatmeal moment. Around the same time (date 5 or so), I mentioned that 2 of the artists at Creative Growth appeared to be dating and described them a little. At this point in the conversation, there was some environmental distraction (likely a good looking bike, knowing us). When it passed, Jared paused and then said “So, what do you think about this relationship?”
I, then, wrongly assumed that he meant the relationship between him and me and not the relationship between these artists at Creative Growth. I thought to myself “he’s about to break up with me” and began racking my brain for any additional evidence that that was possible. Except there wasn’t any. I turned and looked into his face, mine filled with anxiety. He, of course, read this in my face and began stammering to clarify. So, “what do you think about this relationship?” is that moment when you misinterpret what someone has said to mean that they are about to leave you when that’s not what they meant at all. It happens more than you might think.
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