Work's been busy lately. The academic year is about to begin (Stanford is on the quarter system, so classes don't start until the end of September. Yes. I find this stupid. I heart the semester system.), so our newest crop of Knight Fellows are upon us at the Fellowship office. This involves helping them in a variety of ways: email and computer concerns, grocery shopping, childcare, prenatal care, insurance, purchasing cars, immigration paperwork, trips to the beach where they shiver in horror: "Isn't California supposed to be warm?"
And we haven't even started orientation yet. But, all this insanity has some great perks - I'm meeting incredible people each day and often get to hang out with their adorable kids. There's free food around, too!
Speaking of Stanford, Sean and I are more than actively looking for a new apartment that's closer to campus, we may have found one. I met a Stanford Art Professor who has a guest house to rent - we're still working out the details, but assuming he likes our dog (and everyone likes our dog, the slut) we'll probably be renting it. Sean and I biked there from work the other day, just to time it. Eight minutes. It takes us 15 minutes just to get to the train station in the morning, never mind parking, riding the rails and biking into campus. Eight fucking minutes. It makes me weep to imagine that I can feasibly roll out of bed at 8:00 am and be in work by 8:30. Oh, the humanity. The guest house is a quirky little property, but has two bedrooms, an ample double living room deal and hard wood floors.The professor, Paul, has a lovely family, so I think this will be a good fit.
We're in the middle of a heat wave right now, it's been close to or at 100F every day this week down in Palo Alto. It's a dry heat, but I'm still ready for the cold air to come back. I miss autumn, when September rolls around I can't help but look forward to crisp air and orange sweaters. Typical of San Francisco and the Bay Area, the seasonal changes are more or less subdued. Summer gets going slowly and lasts through October. December and winter in general mean rain, then everything turns green. I appreciate this more and more as the years go by. Fuck winter.
Guess that's all we have going on. My life feels busy and crammed, yet four paragraphs later I'm running dry on news.
I'll tell you this, I'm getting tired of hearing, reading and seeing anything having to do with Sarah Palin. I'm also tired of answering questions about her. I did not live in Wasilla and knew nothing of her during my time in the interior there because there wasn't much to know, other than her corrupt political decisions, which weren't terrilbly notable becuase, well, most political doings up there are corrupt. Oh, she's pro-drilling? Um... most Alaskans are.
I don't blame people for being shocked. All I knew about Alaska before living there was that it was cold and prone to earthquakes. And something about oil... yeah, oil. Now everyone's finding out that dirty dealings go on up there and that evangelicals can indeed survive, nay thrive, in the sub-arctic.
They can and they do. "God bless" my new blue state.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Camping: An Annotated Account
Day 1 (Thursday)
After an appearance at work, I met Sean and we loaded up on camping-friendly food. (Rice, lots of it.) We drive over the Bay Bridge and on up toward Napa. We really enjoyed driving through Vallejo, which appears to be stuck in 1957.
See what I mean?
Napa is beautiful - brown, rolling hills covered with grape vines and huge winery estates. We also drove through St. Helena which, made Napa look, well, ghetto.
The hot springs we headed to is located in a little po-dunk town, Middleton. Their grocery store was impressive (CA grocery stores are a thing of beauty and delight).
We rolled into the resort and set-up camp along a mostly non-existent creek. There were deer and wild turkey everywhere (gobblers, not the bourbon). By this time we realized we were camping on the sun: it was easily 100F and there was no cold water to be had, anywhere.
After a nap we explored and found the hub of the resort, a 10 minute walk away via a deer-laden dirt trail. The main area includes several buildings and cabins, a communal kitchen and a co-ed changing room. Most importantly, this is where the pools were. Six of them, to be exact: a cool one for swimming, a lukewarm heart-shaped one, a small cool square one, a warm pool (100F), and a scalding square box of lava with it's ice bath counterpart nearby. We slept well that night after an hour in the warm pool
Day 2 (Friday)
105F. I didn't leave the tent much. At the bathroom I discussed the weather with a random naked guy and eventually Sean and I headed toward the action. Harbin had an impressive general store stocked with the sort of shit we generally eat, so we foraged there for breakfast and then pickled ourselves for a while in the warm pool. Sean did attend a yoga class, but I stayed behind and listened to finance podcasts on my iPod. (Nature sure is relaxing when you know how the Dow closed.) That night we braved the dreaded communal kitchen that has a cheerful, busy dungeon feel to it. I thoroughly disgusted a couple seated next to us at the family-style tables by eating almost an entire box of Golden Grahams. They were eating a homegrown heirloom tomato and greens salad. That night the moon was almost full and the sky up there is clear - that may have been the highlight of the whole trip.
Day 3 (Saturday)
By this time, the communal, hippie quality of the hot springs were starting to wear thin. The co-ed changing room and clothing optional atmosphere was refreshing, but also kept people from socializing much: it felt like a big party we hadn't been invited to. We also found ourselves lusting after ice cubes and missing home, so on lark we decided to head home that night, instead of Sunday morning. We broke camp in record time and raced home. I was never so happy to see the fog.
Overall, it was a great trip, I'd go back in a heartbeat, but probably on the off-season.
So, now we're back, facing a pretty busy time. Our hunt for a new house will start in September and we have several vacations lined up this autumn to work around. My job is busy - I'm trying to get an online application system implemented before October. In the end it will make my life easier (software vs. mounds of paper applications), but right now it's sucking up all my time. And the new crop of Fellows are arriving fast and furious with their kids and spouses in tow - today one of the Knight kids told me I looked pretty with my nose ring.
And, oh yeah, last week before heading out to go camping, my boss Jim told me that I have been given a 3.6% raise and a bonus! Not a bad way to start a weekend.
High five.
After an appearance at work, I met Sean and we loaded up on camping-friendly food. (Rice, lots of it.) We drive over the Bay Bridge and on up toward Napa. We really enjoyed driving through Vallejo, which appears to be stuck in 1957.
See what I mean?
Napa is beautiful - brown, rolling hills covered with grape vines and huge winery estates. We also drove through St. Helena which, made Napa look, well, ghetto.
The hot springs we headed to is located in a little po-dunk town, Middleton. Their grocery store was impressive (CA grocery stores are a thing of beauty and delight).
We rolled into the resort and set-up camp along a mostly non-existent creek. There were deer and wild turkey everywhere (gobblers, not the bourbon). By this time we realized we were camping on the sun: it was easily 100F and there was no cold water to be had, anywhere.
After a nap we explored and found the hub of the resort, a 10 minute walk away via a deer-laden dirt trail. The main area includes several buildings and cabins, a communal kitchen and a co-ed changing room. Most importantly, this is where the pools were. Six of them, to be exact: a cool one for swimming, a lukewarm heart-shaped one, a small cool square one, a warm pool (100F), and a scalding square box of lava with it's ice bath counterpart nearby. We slept well that night after an hour in the warm pool
Day 2 (Friday)105F. I didn't leave the tent much. At the bathroom I discussed the weather with a random naked guy and eventually Sean and I headed toward the action. Harbin had an impressive general store stocked with the sort of shit we generally eat, so we foraged there for breakfast and then pickled ourselves for a while in the warm pool. Sean did attend a yoga class, but I stayed behind and listened to finance podcasts on my iPod. (Nature sure is relaxing when you know how the Dow closed.) That night we braved the dreaded communal kitchen that has a cheerful, busy dungeon feel to it. I thoroughly disgusted a couple seated next to us at the family-style tables by eating almost an entire box of Golden Grahams. They were eating a homegrown heirloom tomato and greens salad. That night the moon was almost full and the sky up there is clear - that may have been the highlight of the whole trip.
Day 3 (Saturday)
By this time, the communal, hippie quality of the hot springs were starting to wear thin. The co-ed changing room and clothing optional atmosphere was refreshing, but also kept people from socializing much: it felt like a big party we hadn't been invited to. We also found ourselves lusting after ice cubes and missing home, so on lark we decided to head home that night, instead of Sunday morning. We broke camp in record time and raced home. I was never so happy to see the fog.
Overall, it was a great trip, I'd go back in a heartbeat, but probably on the off-season.
So, now we're back, facing a pretty busy time. Our hunt for a new house will start in September and we have several vacations lined up this autumn to work around. My job is busy - I'm trying to get an online application system implemented before October. In the end it will make my life easier (software vs. mounds of paper applications), but right now it's sucking up all my time. And the new crop of Fellows are arriving fast and furious with their kids and spouses in tow - today one of the Knight kids told me I looked pretty with my nose ring.
And, oh yeah, last week before heading out to go camping, my boss Jim told me that I have been given a 3.6% raise and a bonus! Not a bad way to start a weekend.
High five.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Birth! And other (more or less) notable events.
My friend Kate* gave birth to her THIRD kid last week (August 6th, to be exact). Baby number three is a boy named Silas Wolff Lewandowski. Elliott (big brother) and Adelaide (middle sister) are reportedly very excited and mommy is recovering nicely, though that doesn’t surprise me: chica’s an old hand at it by now.
So, that’s one more beautiful baby in the bunch – big congratulations to those coo-coo crazy breeders.
My own news seems to pale in comparison. I finally got up the nerve to do some much-needed shopping this weekend. I didn’t buy much, but finally got myself a raincoat and new yoga-friendly stuff. As for regular clothes… a pair of jeans, one shirt and fleece – not a bad start. I expect another trip to some traditional stores and a few thrift shop visits will finish the dastardly deed… um, soonish. I’m really picky about my clothes, yet still fashionable retarded – how does that happen?
Sean and I are going camping in the Napa wine region later this week. We’ll be staying at Harbin Hot Springs which is retreat type of place that offers camping, massages, saunas/steam rooms, yoga, hiking, hot springs and, best of all, bathing suits be optional! Yay nudity! The list of hospitality services is varied – you can pitch a tent, book a hotel room or stay in their private pod-like domes, which mildly scare me. Nonetheless, I may have to move there.
I’ve been getting back into running, as I mentioned in my last post. I’m still wheezing and walking a lot of the course, but I’m improving, feeling strong. Beefcake!
Wahoo, time to go home.
*Kate lives on a dome (small mountain) outside Fairbanks, Alaska in a house her husband built while they were living in a tent, raising chickens. Only recently does she have plumbing, but still no electricity. When the snow is melting their road is impassable and in the summer the mosquitoes are something even Dante never cared to imagine.
In short, Mama Kate is one bitchin’ chick.
So, that’s one more beautiful baby in the bunch – big congratulations to those coo-coo crazy breeders.
My own news seems to pale in comparison. I finally got up the nerve to do some much-needed shopping this weekend. I didn’t buy much, but finally got myself a raincoat and new yoga-friendly stuff. As for regular clothes… a pair of jeans, one shirt and fleece – not a bad start. I expect another trip to some traditional stores and a few thrift shop visits will finish the dastardly deed… um, soonish. I’m really picky about my clothes, yet still fashionable retarded – how does that happen?
Sean and I are going camping in the Napa wine region later this week. We’ll be staying at Harbin Hot Springs which is retreat type of place that offers camping, massages, saunas/steam rooms, yoga, hiking, hot springs and, best of all, bathing suits be optional! Yay nudity! The list of hospitality services is varied – you can pitch a tent, book a hotel room or stay in their private pod-like domes, which mildly scare me. Nonetheless, I may have to move there.
I’ve been getting back into running, as I mentioned in my last post. I’m still wheezing and walking a lot of the course, but I’m improving, feeling strong. Beefcake!
Wahoo, time to go home.
*Kate lives on a dome (small mountain) outside Fairbanks, Alaska in a house her husband built while they were living in a tent, raising chickens. Only recently does she have plumbing, but still no electricity. When the snow is melting their road is impassable and in the summer the mosquitoes are something even Dante never cared to imagine.
In short, Mama Kate is one bitchin’ chick.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Running thoughts
I was running this gravel, industrial loop in our town (a great idea executed as tastelessly as possible) and I had a sensory memory moment remembering that swift and heavy sensation that buzzes through you when you lock eyes with someone and realize you're both seeing past social norms and distractions (clothing, surrounding, physical and psychological contexts) to an all-revealing, mystery-solved snap of utter comprehension. Clean doors and shit, Man. Yogis meditate to similar levels of consciousness, Emerson referred to it has being sucked up into an all-seeing transparent eyeball.* It leaves faster than it came, and there may be no way to explain or even fully acknowledge the overwhelmingly robust swell of contentment, that blinks out so quickly you half doubt it ever happened. Sex leaves a wet spot or two, but has similar "did that really happen?" qualities. Close emotional proximity doesn't catalyze these chance occurrences - they are best experienced between two people who know nothing of one another. This allows limitless contexts - the look of understanding just before you leave the bar with someone you don't really know, a long, shared look of profound sexual longing through a window as the train pulls away from the platform - and is born of raw, universal coincidence ruled by timing immeasurable to our best rubrics.
Whatever anyone decides it is nor isn't, it's something I haven't felt in a while with another human being, there's no guarantee I ever will again. It's a rare thing, yet to go without it feels like deprivation, malnutrition. On a less general, more personal level, I often associate it with casual sex and less "serious" parts of my life and times. It's not exactly the sex itself I miss, it's the mystery and newness of a stranger (one whose ways are not known by me, not some random dude in line at the hot dog vendor) - not an easily replicated sensation. If I believed in heaven or a perfect state, it would probably be that feeling prolonged into eternity.
That's what I think about when I run (when I'm not thinking about how my chest cavity is buckling and death imminent.)
* I does love me some transparent eyeball. There. I said it.
Whatever anyone decides it is nor isn't, it's something I haven't felt in a while with another human being, there's no guarantee I ever will again. It's a rare thing, yet to go without it feels like deprivation, malnutrition. On a less general, more personal level, I often associate it with casual sex and less "serious" parts of my life and times. It's not exactly the sex itself I miss, it's the mystery and newness of a stranger (one whose ways are not known by me, not some random dude in line at the hot dog vendor) - not an easily replicated sensation. If I believed in heaven or a perfect state, it would probably be that feeling prolonged into eternity.
That's what I think about when I run (when I'm not thinking about how my chest cavity is buckling and death imminent.)
* I does love me some transparent eyeball. There. I said it.
Mondays happen
Sean is hungover and I'm feeling awfully sleep today. But, we had a good weekend spend at home cleaning (the yard is now plum-free, for a while), cooking and leading the mutt around. It feels like we had a week off, which amazes me. When I first got back into the work week, it seemed like I had zero free time to myself; the more adjusted I get, the more time it feels like I regain. Once we move closer to Stanford our home lives will get at least an hour and half longer. That will be great. Maybe we'll get a bathtub or dishwasher out of the deal, as well. Who knows?
My project to I'm haul my brain of out of storage and start preparations for PhD applications is under way. I've re-started a book on Modern Critical Theory and checked out a Norton Anthology of American Lit (the short one, only 6,000 pages) from the library - phase one of the great GRE subject cram. It feels good to have a personal higher purpose than simply showing up for work in clean(ish) clothing.
Oh yeah, clothes. I needs some. I needs some yesterday. Ever since I started yoga my body has entirely changed shape. I weigh the same, maybe a little more due to some muscle gain, but my proportions are all different now. So, my favorite jeans make me feel dumpy and none of my non-denim pants fit at all. The big problem here is that I hate shopping: the stores, the pushy/non-existent sales people, spending money - all of it. Nothing ever seems to fit, either and I have no idea what size I am. Small? Smaller than most but not exactly skinny? Negative 3? I almost wish I had a job with a uniform, except that uniforms never actually fit me well.
Ah well, I'm off to google Formalism.
My project to I'm haul my brain of out of storage and start preparations for PhD applications is under way. I've re-started a book on Modern Critical Theory and checked out a Norton Anthology of American Lit (the short one, only 6,000 pages) from the library - phase one of the great GRE subject cram. It feels good to have a personal higher purpose than simply showing up for work in clean(ish) clothing.
Oh yeah, clothes. I needs some. I needs some yesterday. Ever since I started yoga my body has entirely changed shape. I weigh the same, maybe a little more due to some muscle gain, but my proportions are all different now. So, my favorite jeans make me feel dumpy and none of my non-denim pants fit at all. The big problem here is that I hate shopping: the stores, the pushy/non-existent sales people, spending money - all of it. Nothing ever seems to fit, either and I have no idea what size I am. Small? Smaller than most but not exactly skinny? Negative 3? I almost wish I had a job with a uniform, except that uniforms never actually fit me well.
Ah well, I'm off to google Formalism.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Justice will be served?
Senator Ted Stevens of Alaska Reportedly Indicted
Filed at 12:54 p.m. ET
WASHINGTON(Reuters) - Sen. Ted Stevens from Alaska, the longest serving U.S. Republican senator ever, was indicted on seven counts related to his holding of public office, a federal law enforcement official said Tuesday.
The U.S. Justice Department has scheduled a news conference for 1:20 p.m. to make an announcement "regarding a significant criminal matter." The official said the news conference would announce the criminal charges against Stevens that have been returned by a federal grand jury in Washington, D.C.
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