Questions and Answers

I'm playing a slightly new little game that involves asking questions of strangers and vice versa. My mother suggested I post some of my more interesting answers. Here they are.

I think "adventure" means different things to different people. What does adventure mean for you, and have you had any memorable adventures recently?
Some of my friends think I have a high tolerance for risk. So, my idea of adventure is probably different than others'. I travel a lot not because I like it but because it's good for me -- gives me perspective. I hope to be taking up new hobbies pretty much until I physically can't anymore. I believe that the brain never stops growing, that the human capacity for change and re-creation is unlimited and that embracing those activities is good and healthy. That said, I dislike wondering if I am going to die or where I am going to sleep tonight. So, I guess adventure to me is walking that fine line between uncertainty and discomfort.

Describe an interest you have that you would truly hope your partner could share with you.
I do a lot of things, and I am very happy to keep most of my hobbies as my own (as opposed to "ours"). I have thought that I would like a partner who is a skilled camper. I am not a skilled camper. I am a competent person who likes the outdoors, but I don't have a lot of experience roughing it in the wilderness. It would be cool to be with someone who also likes the outdoors but has better outdoors skills than I do. On the other hand, it doesn't have to be that exact thing; it can be something like that.

They say life is about simple pleasures, what is your simplest pleasure, and how does it make you feel?
It would have to be tea. I really like cheap Irish breakfast tea with sugar and soymilk. I like it strong enough so that it tastes just a tiny bit bitter. It makes me feel comforted, invigorated, alive. I'm used to drinking tea with my mother or my best girlfriends. so, it probably reminds me of that intimacy.

Do you feel a particular connection with a type of animal, and if so which one and why?
I really like chickens. I am not a scared person -- it isn't their cliched meaning that I relate to. I like how directed they are (towards worms, scratching and eating). I like how silly they look. The way they tilt their heads to one side when you talk to them makes me smile. I enjoy their unbridled enthusiasm.

How do you envision a successful relationship? What is it that you truly want in your next relatioship?
That's a tricky one. I would like to keep my own hobbies and my own friends. On the other had, I would also like to have a lot of shared activities. I wouldn't mind sailing together sometimes, but I want to keep it my thing with my friends. A regular Sunday afternoon hike would be perfect. I would like to cook and clean and jog together. Sometimes reading the same book so that we can discuss it would be fun. I'm looking forward to lots of meaty conversations.

What kind of adventures appeal to you (urban & non) and how do you work 'excitement' into your life?
I feel like my life is full of adventures, but when I go to write down what they are... well, it seems less clear. ... On Wednesday, I left work in Sunnyvale on my bike. I got as far at Sam Mateo before it got dark. Then, I rode in the dark to BART in Millbrae and took the train the rest of the way. That was an adventure that would have been both more fun and less of an adventure with someone else. I also like getting lost in the wilderness... and doing karaoke.

...do you love your work and see your self doing this or something similar for the forseeable future?
...I was chatting with some girlfriends last night, and one of them observed that I can both be incredibly creative in my job and there is nothing blocking me. A lot of it is customer service and marketing. But I also enjoy the project management, analysis and planning parts. I've been learning a lot at work lately about conflict resolution and "getting to yes". I used to think if someone said "no" that that was definitive. It turns out, at my job anyway, "no" means ask me again in a few weeks. It's very liberating. Who'd a thunk?

What have you learned from past relationships?
Ahahaah! I've learned a lot about myself and what I need. I've learned that if my partner isn't treating me the way I want to be treated, I must leave. I've learned to make sure we want the same big things in our future. I've learned to pay attention to my reaction to his past relationship stories. I've learned that being alone is better than being with the wrong person. I've learned that it's wrong to be with someone I am not deeply in love with just to avoid rocking the boat. I've learned how important it is to have a good group of friends outside the relationship... and a good set of hobbies. I've learned that the most important thing is for me to be completely in love with who I am in a relationship, and the second most important thing is for me to be in love with my partner.

Cruise to Tiburon

Major characters: my guest Kristin (shown) and sailing friends Joyce, Mark and Scott
See here for more photos.

Remembering Yourself

When I can't do yoga on Sunday, I usually do it on Friday. I always have lots of "deep thoughts" at yoga class -- either self realizations or things the teacher said. Yesterday, she said that we are not looking to improve ourselves through practice, we are looking to remember ourselves. I have spent so much of my life trying to "be better" but I'm just learning that I can't be any better. I just want to be myself perfectly.

As I was having these thoughts after yoga, I had another thought. I did a lot of walking on Thursday. Wednesday, I biked home from work (about 40 miles). My body was more sore from all that walking than from the bike ride. My back hurt. I felt twisted. When I bike, I get a pinch in my neck, but my body feels completely in line. That's not the case when I propel myself independently.

As I type this, I can see a metaphor emerging. I need people, mechanisms, structure to function healthily. My desire for freedom makes me wish I could work for myself, but my need for structure and others makes that unrealistic. I don't think it's about being extroverted (because I'm not). It's like Dar Williams said:
"Sometimes I see myself fine, sometimes I need a witness
"And I like the whole truth
"But there are nights I only need forgiveness"
These aren't things you can give yourself: reflection, witness, truth, forgiveness. You need to get them from others.

So, I was having these thoughts, and I realized that I'd completely forgotten the first thought about remembering yourself. I searched my brain for what it had been. After a moment, it came to me, but immediately I lost the second thought, about walking and the bicycle. I began to wonder if my brain can only hold on to one idea at a time... as if it has only one hand or no opposable thumbs. I'm a pretty good multi-tasker, but I need to write everything down, set alarms for myself on my electronic calendar, keep lists. I was tired and disoriented after yoga class yesterday which is pretty common -- sometimes I walk into walls.

Top 40

I had this great idea to not work today, but alas, even the best laid plans.... I did however get a walk up to have my legs waxed (The woman recognized me by my privates!) and eat a whole bunch of pastries. Noe Valley Bakery remains my favorite, but Kalyani introduced me to Dianda's on Mission which is also pretty good. I would love to do a survey of all Bay Area bakeries, but I would need to decide on one pastry as my staple from which to judge, and I just can't commit.

Laura noticed on Sunday that I'd bought new sunglasses (after Tyler caused me to lose the original pair in the ocean in LA -- no, actually, it was totally my fault). "Coach?" she exclaimed, and then she said something about my paycheck that I will not repeat. Anyway, I need to get a tie to keep these gems on my face indefinitely; so, I popped into about 12 junk shops along Mission. No have. Maybe Walgreens?

I perused these shops to the soundtracks of my youth: "Girl just wanna have fun," etc. If I had known I would still be listening to these songs 20 years later, I would have listened to a whole lot less top 40 as a teenager. Do we still have top 40? Is new music being produced that isn't a remix or a cover? I haven't heard it in years.

OK, truth time: I bought "Since U been gone" from iTunes... and even some Shakira I ended up not liking. I've bought maybe 4 contemporary songs in the last few years, and maybe what this is all about is me not liking contemporary music anymore. Am I getting old? (Don't answer that.) I just want to be able to listen to the radio without hearing songs I first heard in my teens, but it seems like that's not an option.

I was napping a minute ago and I thought of something else I wanted to blog about but it's already gone. My sister Taylor sent me an "inspirational" little movie, and while it generally nauseated me, I did like the following quote (paraphrased): "Many things will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart. Follow those."

Supermodel or Ex-Boyfriend?

Grayson, India, 1995

Life and other scraps

I haven't felt much like posting lately, and I don't know why.

My general philosophy has changed and lengthened: if you are not wet, bruised, and covered in mysterious mosquito bites (we don't have bugs in San Francisco), you aren't alive.

...Which makes me wonder if my body isn't somehow holding me back, imprisoning me, while at the same time offering me this great opportunity: life.

Quotes (from other people):
"You can't fuck the future. The future fucks you."
-Deadwood

"The dollar lost strength the way many marriages break up, slowly and then all at once."
-Daniel Gross, Slate

Douglas Adams quote

"The disadvantages (of cars) involved pulling lots of black sticky slime from out of the ground where it had been safely hidden out of harm's way, turning it into tar to cover the land with, smoke to fill the air with and pouring the rest into the sea, all seemed to outweigh the advantages of being able to get more quickly from one place to another -- particularly when the place you arrived at had probably become, as a result of this, very similar to the place you had left, i.e., covered with tar, full of smoke and short of fish."
pg 162-163, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Douglas Adams

Jeans

I spent far more hours this afternoon than I wanted trying on jeans. For years, I have either avoided jeans or worn ones that didn't fit. But now, I know enough about my body and clothes and I have enough money for higher standards. I know only to bother with the "relaxed" or "curvy" or "wide legged" styles. At Gap, I took size 8 long and 10 long in Essential, Curvy, and Boot Cut (because they were on sale). They were $50. The Curvy 10 longs were OK, but the waist too big, and I don't really want to wear a 10. So, I passed.

I know the Easy Rider jeans at Lucky size 27 long fit me perfectly, but they're $100 and I already have a pair. I asked them if they have a darker color, but they don't.

Ann Taylor is usually a safe, if conservative bet, but they aren't carrying any casual non-capri pants this season.

Diesel was right there, and I have heard about Diesel jeans -- mostly that they are ridiculously expensive ($180). I'm willing to pay for jeans that fit; so, I thought I would give them a chance. I explained my situation to the sales lady, and she selected a few for me to try. They didn't fit. I nearly burst into tears.

I was going to give up, but I happened to glance into Old Navy which has never made clothes for my body. They have a new selection of jean styles: the Diva, the Sweetheart, and the Flirt. The Sweetheart have a "relaxed leg". After trying on at least 10 of them (Old Navy clothes vary within a size), I bought 2 of the 6 longs. They were $30.

Do you already know what I am about to say? By now, I know myself pretty well. I know what size I wear. I know which styles might fit me. I know what looks good on my body. But I still had to try on about 30 jeans today. Each pair, I truly, madly, deeply wanted to fit. It was exactly like dating.

Spenger's

My mother used to get shrimp scampi from the "to go" counter, and we would eat it eagerly in our unwashed kitchen or down by the marina on top of the car. I found the images and ideas of the old salty sailors a little scary -- long beards, scratchy booming voices, rough manners.... I took Spenger's for granted although I never wanted to lie on its carpet (like I did most carpets -- even on the BART train).

My best sailing girlfriend, Joyce, finally returned from sailing for 6 weeks in Tonga. Her stories include big waves and staying on course, accidental jibes in ocean passages with high seas, trouble with wind directions.... She told me some of them perched on the edge of our Precision as she gently corrected my point of sail. I told her that I used to say I sail because I like to drink, but now I say if you aren't wet and bruised you aren't really sailing. She said I've become saltier. Under her guidance, I did not crash into anything while docking.

After our little jaunt on the water, we went to Spenger's, where I haven't been in about 25 years, for my fish-and-chips project. I also had to get a Mai Tai. Both were fine, unremarkable. The drink lacked layering and an umbrella but contained lots of fruit. The chips were good if a bit limp. The fish was unimpressive in size and texture and the batter was... not the variety I prefer, more like bread crumbs.

They have a happy hour starting at 9 p.m. where a number of dishes are just 2 dollars. Joyce wanted to order every one on the menu, but I talked her down to 4, then 3. The best one was the shrimp scampi. We ate about one and half, and I took one home in a box.

Starfish

I found this poem, Starfish, incredibly moving.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Harrows (not a book review)

Everyone's got it. I just put myself on the list to get it from the library. I am number 671. A fellow shuttle rider asked me why I don't just buy a copy. I said: "because I'm into denying myself the small pleasures of life." The real reason is that I don't want to deal with having it after I've read it. I only buy books used, from small independent publishers or by unestablished writers. JK Rowling doesn't need my money. I care more about that than immediate gratification.

Bride & Prejudice (2004)

I borrowed this movie from the library on a whim. Pride and Prejudice was a very important book for me in high school, and I figured I should see every movie inspired by the book. I didn't even notice that this is a Bollywood musical or that they changed one of the letters in the title. My expectations were very low based on the dvd cover and even lower when I noticed the name, but I didn't figure out the movie's genre until it started playing.

I used to love romantic movies because I used to believe that was possible and consider love stories a lesson for my future. I don't anymore. I avoid them. I told Matt the other day that I'm "cured", but cured of what? And is that good? ...Anyway, that's not what I'm talking about today.

This marriage of Jane Austen and Bollywood is a perfect match! It was fresh and exciting and remarkably true to the book while also believable for a modern Indian family. When the movie ended, I vowed to incorporate more dance into my daily life. We should merge mundane conversations with little songs, bright colors, and some shimmying. Join me, won't you, because I can't do it on my own. Dance with me!

Death and Life

A while back, Tyler got me to sign up for okcupid, a free internet dating site with lots of fun tests. One of the tests included a series of questions:
• If you could save someone by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 50 people by killing yourself, would you?
• If you could save 10,000 people by killing yourself, would you?
My honest answer (I believe) to each of these questions was “no”. I think it goes back to the idea that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself, but my survival instinct is just too strong. I can’t imagine ever being that noble.

Or am I? You know how on the airplane, you’re always supposed to put your own mask on first before you assist others? It makes sense to me that if anyone needs saving, I would like to be there to actively do it. How do you know that your death will be effective in saving others?

Tina said it would depend on who it was. If it was her sister, then she would definitely die for her. If it was someone else, she’s less sure. But suppose Tina is on a boat with her sister and her sister falls off the boat. Tina jumping off the boat isn’t going to help anything, because then neither of them can get back on the boat. Tina’s sister would need to take some active measure to save herself by, say, swimming to the boat and pulling herself onto it.

The examples of the oxygen mask and the boat resonate most with me. They seem most like how the world works. On This American Life this week, the topic was “who can you save?” All the stories were fascinating. One was about a thought experiment like this: if you could save 4 men by flipping a switch that kills another one instead, would you? If you could save 4 men by actively killing another (pushing him off a bridge), would you? Most people say yes to the first and no to the second. This is odd since they are essentially the same thing.

A researcher asked people these questions while performing a brain scan on them. He found that different areas of the people’s brains fired more for each question, indicating that whichever biological reaction is louder is the one we obey (his hypothesis).

I feel profoundly troubled by the idea of actively killing another person by any mechanism. I am troubled by any association between choice and death. In high school, when everything was SO DEEP I read a book where people described their near-death experiences. They described a white light and dead loved ones calling to them from the other side. I think I remember a story where a dead loved on told the narrator to go back; that this isn’t the right time.

My mother says that my grandmother didn’t want to die when she did, but her body, and perhaps her family, gave up on her. Other times, you hear stories about people with relatively minor injuries going to the other side anyway. Decisions about life and death are profoundly personal. I don’t believe that I would be the right one to make a decision for another person, or 50 people, or 10,000 people, and yet, at the same time, I believe it is the responsibility of everyone in a community (in the form of social services) to facilitate life.

Quick update

I mentioned earlier that I've become one of "those people" which now turns out to mean that I don't even have the time to blog that I want. A few things I want to tell you about are:
1) I biked to work again yesterday except this time we took the hilly route about 50 miles took 5 hours. My companions were 3 strapping young men all very patient with me. And the ride was SO BEAUTIFUL I hardly know what to say to communicate that to you. I think the hilly route is probably worth the climbs and extra 15 miles for the views.
2) I went to LA the other weekend and had a great time. I also lost my sunglasses in the ocean. I want to describe the trip in greater detail.
3) The Slate Gabfest discussed "slicing the apple" of the war in Iraq. I think this is an interesting idea worth picking apart.
4) Charlie did a group reading of their creative writing Wednesday night, and I jotted down a few ideas and turns of phrase I like. I bought the book so should be able to reference accurately.
5) Book review of The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

Consider it all forthcoming.
Photo by Allen Tom

Stumbling from defeat to defeat

Someone at the gallery made a print of this quote: "Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." -Anais Nin. Except that I think the artist at my gallery wrote "Love" instead of "Life". I looked it up on the ever-reliable interweb and found it this way. I also found the title to this post as part of a less-interesting longer quote.

Most of my life I've worried that people didn't like me so much as think I'm pretty. After a while, I realized that I'm not actually THAT pretty. But I had the experience again last night at my gallery opening party. I spent a long time chatting with a guy about my work, even gave him my card, but I think he was more interested in the artist than the work. Alas!

Then a bunch of us went to Revolution for drinks, and Kristin and I picked up 3 20-year-old boys. One asked me how old I am, which offended me, but he saved himself by saying that he knew I was older because I was completely comfortable in a bar. We tried to go to another bar, but the boys would have been carded. The one I liked didn't seem inclined to make out with me in an alley someplace. So, Kristin and I left them at Cancun and went home.

Why I love the sailing club

I love sailing. I love to go out and get wet, harness the power of the wind to create our own private, real, roller coaster where the boat could capsize and I would land on nice soft water. Water is pretty and so is sun and sky; so, it's also a strong aesthetic experience. Sailing gives me perma-grin.

One of my favorite recent lines (from myself) is that I took up sailing because I like to drink and the two just go together. But that's not the whole truth. I do like drinking with the sailors after a good day on the water, but that's not the reason I do it. I like to sail for a few hours and then sit on the bench for a few hours looking at the water. I can give or take the booze.

Tyler and I have decided that I need to be more guarded at the club regarding my personal life. My nature is to share, but it gives the sailors wrong ideas. It will be an interesting experiment.

I went out on a JY with Javier today, and it totally rocked. Wind and waves abounded, and we got plenty of wet without even trying. It was almost as good as the day when there was no wind; so, Tyler and I decided that we were pirates and would take over and capsize the other boats out there (with people we like on them). Today, I was able to lean all the way out, holding the trapeze handle and with my feet under the strap and run my arm along the surface of the water... to balance the heeling boat, of course.

After that fabulousness, I sat on the bench and discussed pie at length with Ed. Ed is a roly-poly, ~50-something man with plenty of vinegar in his personality who frequents the club. (I prefer my people with some vinegar... like fish and chips.) Yes, we discussed pie. I can't imagine anything cooler.

Those People

I've become one of those people. There are 30 unopened, unfiled, unfiltered emails in my personal email inbox. I'm not sure I've returned all personal calls. My home "in box" (papers, to dos) is overflowing; I'm not even sure what's in it. I feel like I'm always late and sometimes rather flaky. I've gone to the other side.

My whole life I've kept up with everything, personal, professional, social.... I was on time and on top of it all. I kept a list of my friends and made sure I got in touch with them at regular intervals. The change hasn't happened over night -- it's been very gradual, but here I am afraid to go through my email for fear of what I've missed. My apartment is messy, and I don't feel the slightest bit depressed.

I could blame my commute -- it's sometimes 3 hours a day door to door. But I worked longer hours at NN. I also now work only 30 hours/week, which means I have at least one if not 2 weekdays north of the San Bruno Mountains. I learned a long time ago that busy=happy for me (within reason). Work is going well; my art is selling (which means I need to keep producing); my social life is dynamic and exciting; even my hobbies are thriving (I finally made junior skipper at the sailing club, and I find I can jog much longer than ever before).

At the same time, I have some complaints. My apartment is messy; I'm behind in my personal communications; I'm less flexible when I do yoga; I'm tired nearly all the time. C'est la vie, never perfect. What I've got isn't broken; so, I ain't gonna fix it. (Can you tell I've been watching Deadwood.)

Speaking of television, I have a few stored up observations. I thought I would try Gilmore Girls again because 2 of my recent exes liked it. I found it insipid and intolerable, but I can't figure out why (which explain the lack of a post on it). Was it that those people just didn't have real problems? I watched into the second season because 1) I am not a quitter! and 2) I really enjoyed the character Michel -- I wanted as much time with him as possible. In the show's defense, it also began a certain train of thought I'm still working on about humility and working out problems in our most important relationships.

I'm into the second season of Deadwood now, and, so far, I'm hooked. Maybe I just like my shows dark. Most of the characters are annoying, but they are all complicated and sympathetic. Far and away my favorite is Calamity Jane -- I just wish she'd show up more!

I watched Brick the other day, and it reminded me of a dark, arty, teenage Survivor. Except I'm just not that sure that there's any way to predict the way other people will react. I don't have it in me to deceive or try to influence a person to do something I don't think they should do, and I believe most people are like I am. Even those who do get found out and lose their influence at some point; so, why bother?

I'm learning a lot from TV, work, life.... Maybe that's why I'm having so much trouble keeping up with things.

Liberties

Last night, we met in Dolores Park. I had forgotten it was Dyke March Day; the park was a mad house. I think only Sultan was really pleased with the situation. But before long, the mob left for the march, and we settled into a pleasant picnic looking over the city's skyline.

Consistent with the day's theme, we discussed our own sexual preferences... certainly to Sultan's delight (the rest of the group was ladies). The air turned cold as it likes to along the northern Californian coast... just another beautiful day in San Francisco.

Then, we sort of accidentally went to The Liberties at Guerrero and 22nd because I wanted to try their fish and chips. They were OK. The chips had flecks of parsley on them. The cole slaw tasted of horseradish. But the fish pieces were rather small, unimpressive (I would have rathered one bigger, meatier piece rather than 3 small), and their batter coating uninspired. I did like it that the serving was not too big, and that the waiter brought us extra sauce. I like this pub for it's decor, lack of a crowd, and pleasant atmosphere.

Thought Snack, "The End of Mr. Y" by Scarlett Thomas

Before I begin, this book probably requires a synopsis. The End of Mr. Y by Scarlett Thomas is about a literature PhD student who finds a rare book that describes how to enter the world of consciousness (the Troposphere) where you can surf minds and emotions through time and space.

Quotes from the book:
“Not only is nothing good or ill but thinking makes it so, but nothing is at all except in so far as thinking has made it so.” -Samuel Butler
But the ground shakes, as if something’s trying to push up from below, and I think about other people’s mother’s shaking their duvets or even god shaking out the fabric of space-time…. Pg. 3
There’s something so sad about broken concrete. Pg. 5
“…But I quite like the way you can talk about science without necessarily using mathematics but using metaphors instead. That’s how I’ve been approaching all my columns. For each of these ideas and theories, you find there’s a little story that goes with it.” Pg. 23
…he was so depressed he couldn’t bring himself to kill himself. I became worried and started doing small, life-enhancing things for him such as making soup and offering to bring him books…. For ages he said yes to soup but no to the books, but recently he’s been asking for poetry…. Pg. 28
(that all sounds frightening familiar.)
To paraphrase the physicist Wolfgang Pauli, she wasn’t even wrong. Maybe that’s where human society is now, at the beginning of the 21st century: not even wrong. Pg. 34
They taught me that everything you are told by anyone is a lie. But then it turned out that they lied, too. Pg. 35
(like the paradox of the guards at the 2 trailheads….)
I sit up in bed slowly, feeling the disappointment trickle away like puddles after a rain shower….I hate the honesty of morning; the time before your consciousness switches on the light and gets rid of all the shadows. Yuck. But my coffee’s OK. Pg. 36
(again, way too familiar… and now I don’t even drink coffee.)
It’s the kind of thing I do when I should be working: write labels on shampoo bottles, iron jeans, think about seagulls. Pg. 153
(ditto… in fact the reason I type these up is because they are so familiar…)
“Am I invisible?” I say to the bartender. “Can you see me?” …I…eyeball her enough to make her play three wrong notes in a bar. Well, I think they were wrong. The whole world seems the wrong way up now. Why am I here? Pg. 180
If I cry then it’s all over. All the adrenaline will wash away and I think adrenaline is all I’ve got left. Pg. 209
“connecting with other people; losing yourself in them; becoming ‘at one.’ It’s hell. Who said that hell is other people?”
“Satre.”
“He’s right. I didn’t realize: ripping out your soul and offering to share it around isn’t at all like giving Communion, or taking some old clothes to the charity shop. It’s like going into the park at night and taking off all your clothes and waiting to be pissed on.” Pg. 220
(What he described sounds to me like falling in love.)
“I tried being ‘normal’: drinking and swearing. It was quite fun. But now I’m not sure who I am. I use this word ‘I’ and I don’t know what it means. I don’t know where it begins and ends. I don’t even know what it’s made of.” Pg. 221
But being pleased with myself won’t do. I should be nothing with myself. I want void. Idiot: I can’t want void. I have to let it come to me. Pg. 271
“What exactly is God going to do with them?” I ask.
“Free them,” Adam says. “Make them properly dead.”
“Can God do that?” I ask.
Adam nods. “He may not have created everything, but he’s good as a manager.” Pg. 368

I like the idea of a fluid consciousness – that you can change all sorts of aspects of the past and present, but it all just comes out the way it comes out. There are no butterflies flapping their wings, there’s just what happens. It’s not a fatalistic book at all, the opposite, in fact. The main character is able to choose a variety of ways for her life to unfold and it just doesn’t matter to anyone but those closest to her. She’s not saving the world; she’s just saving herself a few people she cares about. Well, she’s also saving humanity. She’s saving the ability to know.

In the book, god(s) is (are) the collection of human thought, attention. I think belief systems are whatever people find that they need to get by. Life is incredibly beautiful and painful, disappointing and inspired. We use belief so that it doesn’t drive us mad. Does it create these gods in this other world? It seems a bit literal, but OK.

The Christian emphasis of the book made me a little uncomfortable. There were multiple gods (a.k.a. saints), but the Christian God dominated it all. I don’t want to give away the ending, but the ending left me a little sour with its biblicalness.

What excited me most in the book is empathy. In Hitchhikers’, the woman doesn’t need the empathy gun because she is already a woman so she is already able to conceptualize what another person thinks and feels. This book, written by a woman, takes a slightly more complicated, and real, approach. The main character is already empathetic, but through experiencing others’ consciousnesses (and surfing them), she literally has another’s feelings. That’s bigger than just imagining how someone might feel.

The Troposphere also has the possibility to ride a particular emotion to a different time or place. That blew my mind. I don’t actually believe that every time we experience a certain emotion is linked up anywhere – I don’t think the brain is that smart. But trying to work that out is a fun thought snack.

Language is another thing – the narrator is able to conceptualize the Troposphere as functioning like a computer but also as the manifestation of language. I like language too, but it’s just a tool, a means to an end. I got the idea from the book that the author sees language as being something bigger than that – that it’s a world in itself or at least that it creates one. Maybe my relationship with language is limited, or maybe I’m undervaluing language, but I see it more as the narrow place between two dramatic canyons, my consciousness and yours.

I have been guilty of seeing my present as temporary, and marginal, to some greater situation I’ll discover in the future. As a pre-teen, I wanted to be an actress, but the main theater I ever did was our little production of Alice in Wonderland where I laughed instead of reciting my lines as the Gryphon. (I also played the Red Queen and the Mad Hatter, parts I took much more seriously.) Early in high school, I was still saying I was going to be an actress, and a friend asked if the feeling I claimed to get from being on stage I know about from Alice. I lied and said that I had done more serious productions. That’s how I feel about language. But the bigger point I’m trying to make is a bit bland but I’ll say it anyway: this is it. This is what we get, life, not language or the future. Experience life with everything you’ve got, and that’s what it will give back you.

Sin: Pride

In Ethan Brand, Hawthorn finds that the unpardonable sin is the violation of the sanctity of another person’s heart. Is that sometimes called betrayal? Years ago, Elizabeth suggested that “if someone doesn’t treat you the way you want to be treated, don’t spend time with them.” The idea blew my mind! I always thought that life, society, relationships were all about working with what you’re given. I didn’t know you could reject it.

But I find that I can. Yes, devastating heartbreak is unforgivable. And there is no limit to the number of times you can recreate yourself.

At Burning Man one year, Kristin wrote the deadly sins all over her mostly-naked body. Then, she went around asking people she met which sin was theirs. I’ve experienced sloth, greed, envy, gluttony, lust to a point of being tempted to select them. I’ve never been much for wrath. In my heart, I know my sin is pride, but at the same time, I’m pretty amazing. Is it still pride if it’s justified?

My sister was reviewing for me her romantic prospects over the phone yesterday. She listed what they looked like, whether they wanted to get married and have children, what their religions were, where they wanted to live, and the kinds of things they liked to do. I suggested she spend time with them and see who she falls in love with, but she disagreed. She said “we have had many years of being with the wrong people and that was wonderful…” but now is the time to screen for our goals. Maybe it’s my pride, but I’m just not willing to give up my idealism.

I don’t need a man to have a baby. I don’t need a partner to buy a house. I don’t even need a job to support myself. Yes, all those things would be nice, but I can do it all without them if the alternative is the wrong man, partner, job…. There is no limit to the number of times I can recreate myself.