I love Thanksgiving. I think it's the best holiday of the year. This Thanksgiving, my mom was inbetween trips to Italy and Taiwan and was understandably tired. My brother and sister-in-law were off to Monterey to spend time with her family. And by some undeserving grace, I was invited over to Carol's sister's place for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a wonderful, cozy dinner. It was the first time that I met and talked to (albeit somewhat laconically) Carol's parents. Anyway, I had a great time. And it's been a wonderful weekend otherwise too. I hope all of you out there had something to be thankful for too.
It's cold. I suppose my office isn't really that bad. I wish I had a thermometer, but I don't so I'll just guess that it's maybe 65 or 66 degrees. Pretty good if you consider that it's supposed to be 50 degrees outside right now. My house sits at about 60 degrees if I don't turn on the heat ... a few degrees colder than that downstairs. So I guess I'm happy to be where it's semi-heated. Oh well, it's better than if it's too hot in here ... makes going outside a real shock to the system.
I'm a vagabond this year for Thanksgiving. Carol was generous enough to offer her sister's thanksgiving table as refuge from the bitter cold (okay that's just a little melodramatic.) The question is ... what to bring. I'll have to ponder this one a little more.
I'm embarassed to say this, but I might as well. I've been procrastinating a lot of small chores lately and playing a lot of Gran Turismo 3. Sadly, I've been entertaining myself trying to pick apart the best way to tune my current favorite car in the game, the Tommy Kaira ZZII. Currently, I've been trying to figure out exactly how spring stiffness and shock bound and rebound (McPherson strut settings as far as I can tell) work together. I've figured out that it's analogous to the spring and dashpot model I used in Mechanics ... now if I can only figure out how that translates into car handling.
It's pronounced Bo-zho-lay: Somehow it never seems like the weekends are long enough. On Friday I drove into the city for a small dinner party in the Marina District, hosted by Carol's roommate, more or less to enjoy the 2003 Beaujolais, which apparently is one of the best, if not the best, year ever. If you don't know your French wines, the Beaujolais is a red wine which is very light and sweet. A definite crowd pleaser if you can get your hands on a bottle. Come to think of it, I work above a BevMo ... perhaps I should get a bottle ... or three.
Yeah ... you know the story: Saturday was all about one thing. KICKING STANFURD's ASS. As usual, the Berkeley fans outnumbered the Stanfurd fans, even though we were in their stadium. And as usual, they had to call in every police officer within a 10 mile radius for crowd control. I'm actually glad that Berkeley fans didn't storm the field. Though I think it's fun, it does get pretty out of control. I'm all for celebrating and trash talking, but when it come to the destruction of public property, I'm a little chagrined to be a Bear. Plus, when it happens at every event regardless of whether you win or lose ... it kinda loses it's effect.
Cost Plus is a minus: Being the cheap bastard that I am, I opted out of the $11.99 bag of Peet's Espresso and bought the $5.99 bag of Cost Plus Espresso ... it was, in short, about as strong as strong tea. I just hope it's not my espresso machine that's at fault.
Oh my darling.... I took Carol out to Clementine for her birthday dinner. We settled on a nice Gewurztraminer from the Alsace region of France. It was slightly dry (for a Gewurzt) with fruity overtones. We decided on a seafood theme for the night and ordered the tuna and salmone tartar with avacado to start and she took the sea bass with confit and I opted for the scallops with fois gras. The tartar was simply excellent. I can't describe it better than must-have. Her sea bass was also very good, though I can't say that it was more than on par with a good French Restaurant. I found my scallops a bit disappointing, though perhaps that's because I think scallops should be this wonderous tasting thing and when usually when I bite into one it tastes like ... well, just scallop. As for my fois gras, I think I should stay away from that from now on. Not that it wasn't good, but I apparently don't have a cullinary appreciation for them and as such, it isn't worth the animal cruelty. For dessert I had the french toast with coffee ice cream, which was light and nutty, but otherwise fairly plain. Carol's dessert, however, was excellent. She ordered a apple tart with carmel ice cream. The tart was light and flaky and the ice cream had just a hint of carmel ... excellent. It was a proper end to a fabulous evening. I highly recommend going there if you're in the Richmond District.
So take ... these broken wings: When I read Brian's semi-public journal entry about Karoke Revolution, I was a little confused. Sort of like when somebody tries to explain DDR to you the first time -- "So you push the arrows with your feet? That doesn't sound too hard." And then you see it and you think to yourself, Good Lord, that's going to make me look dumb. And then, if you're like me you think, I have to try it.
A Quarter Ante:
I'm not so used to fortunes changing so rapidly at the poker table. But when you play for a quarter ante, your stack goes really fast. I didn't get a good hand all night, though that's better than hands that just aren't good enough. As it neared midnight, I cashed in and went for a final round of "Say What?" Karaoke Revolution. Then it was late and I donned my glass slippers and drove my pumpkin home.Thus spoke: "Don't count the days - make the days count." - Ed Agresta
Espresso Express: My espresso machine arrived yesterday. It looks relatively uncomplicated and a bit flimsy (in other words it's mostly plastic) for the sum that I paid for it. Unfortunately, I was too tired from climbing to make myself a cup o' joe, so it remains unplugged, waiting to be used for the first time. I'm still waiting on that new desk though ... damn Scandinavian Designs, they promised it to me two weeks ago, grr.
Colors: Half way through the week and a few more days to go before Big Game. I'm looking forward to giving Stanfurd a good thrashing. I'll have to hide my semi-reddish hair under a Cal cap though. Darn ... should have waited a couple of weeks to get my hair colored. (And no ... I won't consider blue. Gold might work though....)
A score and seven: A frabjous birthday to my beamish girlfriend. I'm quickly running out of adjectives so I may have to learn another language (or simply learn the other one that I somewhat know, better) soon.
"History doesn't repeat itself, at best it rhymes" - Mark Twain
Sometime last week I was listening to a segment on NPR in which the author of Sex, Time and Power was talking about the differences in how men and women perceive time. He asserted that women viewed time symbolically as a circle. Whereas men viewed it, in a similar fashion, as arrows. Allison, Andy and I talked about this briefly on Saturday, where Andy suggested a compromise ... a helix. Of course, viewed from afar, a helix looks like a straight line and closer up it looks like a sine wave, but looking down it's length it is a circle. But what if it wasn't a straight line? What if it was a helix bent lengthwise in the shape of ... a helix? And what if that helix was in the shape of another helix? And so on and so on.... And then what if we each, or as a whole, are on a certain point on this helix-in-within-helix? Looking as we do, in spiral fashion down the line, we see time extending into eternity. Looking up or down (relatively speaking) we see a repetition of events, the tides and moon, the planets and sun, the orbit and revolution of celestial bodies ... the cycle of our own achievements and mistakes. But then, looking to the side, we might see, across the center of time's gravity, the pulse of something greater ... the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of galaxies, the slow breathing of the universe.
It is a compromise though? Or merely the skillful manipulation of ideas that can not be reconciled? After all ... the expression is still linear ... ever growing ... ever expanding. I am just moving down the line from one end to the other. What if, however, the largest of things is contained in the smallest? No, not like a universe in an atom in other universe in another atom ... but as the genetic code of a baby is contained in a zygote. Perhaps all the information on needs to build a universe is contained with the smallest division of matter/energy, the tiniest bit of the fabric of reality.
I'm still waiting for the espresso machine to arrive. I ordered it from Whole Latte Love a week ago and I'm starting to get antsy. Of course, maybe that's fitting since I'll probably be acting antsy after it arrives due to the increased levels of caffine in my blood. Somehow I think I'll end up spending more money on beans (which, incidentally, are more or less the same as coffee beans) than I ever did on espresso drinks.
It's been a long weekend. So long that I'd almost rather have been working. On Friday, I drove down to Palo Alto to get some training from Solange and Norman, facilitators from out of state, but instead ended up with a parking ticket from Santa Clara County. (Damn you Stanfurd!) At least I got to eat Japanese twice that day ... and for free. Saturday was a little worse. I mostly fumbled through my presentation, though there was this one girl in the class that kept on smiling at me -- I dare say it had nothing to do with my stellar presentation. On top of my sub-par performance, it was raining and Cal was playing at home so parking sucked and walking through the rain with all my EF materials sucked even more. All of that was lovely compared to the one and a half hour drive over the Richmond-San Rafael bridge, which had one lane closed. After that hair pulling experience, my weekend quickly got better. The food at the Rehearsal Dinner was great (though I missed all of the rehearsing) and Sunday would prove to be equally memorable.
Today was Jim and Barbara's wedding. They picked a lovely, if chilling, art house in Mill Valley. I bumped into the same photographer that Steve and Nancy used for there wedding. I'm sure she was grateful that she didn't have to drive all around SF taking pictures this time. The wedding itself was lighthearted and fun and featured a wonder reading by Allison of an excerpt from the Velveteen Rabbit. The food was excellent and the dance was fun too. The wedding ended at 3:00pm leaving time for much to be done on Sunday. Alas, here it is 11:20pm and I can't say that I've done much more than come back from Jim and Barbara's wedding. Still, it was a long weekend and I'll be grateful to be back to normal schedule. Maybe I'll even have time to think of something interesting.
"If I could see the future, I'd cover my eyes." -- Quote from Meant to be by Tony Chu.
So what's new?
Not much ... Besides the hair that is.
Yeah ... that's nice, a little bit of style.
Yup, I figured I needed some style so I went out and bought me some.
Ha ha ... went out and bought some style. Nice. Just bought some style and put it on.
That's right, style in a bottle. That's when I started thinking, you can find a lot of things in bottles these days. Courage, hope, happiness, comfort ... and then I didn't want to think about it anymore, because it seemed a sad thought. I put it away knowing that it stung of something true. Like a bottle of acid placed on a high shelf. I knew that someday I'd be reaching around up there for something and knock it over, burning myself with some sort of realization. But that was an epiphany for another day.
Belated wishes: Happy Belated Birthday to my good friend Marian. She probably never reads this so I guess it doesn't matter much, but they say it's the thought that counts, even if the action comes a day late. Speaking of yesterdays, how many of you out there know why Veteran's Day is celebrated? I thought it was the celebration of the end of World War II. Turns out I was off by a digit. Anyway, since most of you out there don't get the day off I suppose you're excused.
Where in the world? Over the weekend, a set of keys mysteriously disappeared in or around my house. I don't suppose it matters much where they disappeared, since they aren't there anymore. Makes one wonder though, where all the lost things go. Take for example, left socks. They go into the washer and somewhere between the rinse cycle and the spin cycle they get sucked into nothingness. Sometimes they like to mix it up and disappear when I'm drying them. Strange though ... why would the left socks want to leave with out their mated companions? Unless they're stealing off with the right socks from somewhere else ... like Australia.
Did I forget to mention? I did it. After a couple of months of deliberation, I finally decided to take the plunge. Thanks to Ji for planting the idea in my head. It only cost me $55. Or maybe it cost me fifty-five frickin' dollars. I'm not sure whether to be happy or outraged. Anyway, I'm told it looks good. We'll see how they take the news at work. Oh, did I forget to say? I had my hair highlighted ... a mix between copper and plum, depending on how the light hits it.
What's in a name? My co-worker's daughter works at a hospital and helps with the delivery of babies. I'm not quite sure what she does, but whatever it is, she gets to know the name of all the babies born during her shift. One of these babies' name was Skye-Starla Queen-Tiny-Bell Oganot. Yeah, somethings ARE that bad.
Masochistic Macchiatos: After long deliberations, I've purchased an Espresso machine. If you see me complaining about having too much caffine in my bloodstream, remind me that I have only myself to blame. Now, I can finally use that thermos that Jim gave me a couple of years ago.
Somewhat Sacrifice: I decided not to participate in Nanowrimo (see below) It's going to be a busy month. Right now I'm looking down the barrel of a short week (I get Veteran's Day off) at a bullet of a weekend that starts with a Friday cram session for my Engineering Futures gig. The actual gig on Saturday followed by a Rehearsal dinner Saturday night. And a wedding on Sunday. Which reminds me ... I need to get a gift.
To the level of your incompetency: You may have heard of the 20/80 rule, which states that 20 percent of the people do 80 percent of the work. This means (after you work out the math) that 20 percent of workers are sixteen times more effective than the remaining 80 percent. In other words, 80 percent of the people out there are incompetent (or lazy). Driving into work this morning I was listening to the Alice DJs talk about this. A caller mentioned that his theory was that people who did too well at their job were promoted, to the extent that they were no longer good at their job. So it was natural that 20 percent of the people did 80 percent of the work. Most of the people in that 80 percent were doing jobs that they weren't good at.
Manifest Destiny: It starts when we're young. We're taught to believe that you have to improve continually. As we grow older, we are put into competition with our peers who are always trying to out do us and we, them. When we get into the working world, the mantra is make it better, do it faster. It's social darwinism. My band teacher used to say, "If you aren't practicing, there's somebody else who is, and when you meet him, he will beat you." Be the best you can be. Good enough, isn't. They're great motivators ... they just aren't entirely true.
Giving 110%: So we end up trying to do more than we possibily can. And as a result end up doing less than we could have if the expectations were reasonable. But what are reasonable expectations? Well, we might know if we didn't spend all our time setting unreasonable ones. So instead we try to have no expectations so we don't end up being disappointed. But we end up disappointed because we have no ambition to do anything at all.
One in a million: Maybe it would be better if we set our sights, just above average. To win some and to lose some but to keep moving forward no matter how slowly. To be satified with small daily gains. To make peace with our inevitable minor setbacks. "Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence." -Hal Borland, journalist (1900-1978)
If there is no great glorious end to all this, if -- nothing we do matters, -- then all that matters is what we do. 'Cause that's all there is. What we do, now, today ... All I wanna do is help. I wanna help because -- I don't think people should suffer, as they do. Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness -- is the greatest thing in the world. - David Boreanaz as Angel in Epiphany.
Just something to think about as you go out and watch the end of the Matrix Trilogy. If you want more, go to my livejournal site. It's over to the left somewhere.
I've been writing more and more lately. Not just because I have a journal. Not just because I have two. But because on top of all that, I'm the only person writing Zed's story. So if you see that I'm pretty happy, you'll know one of the reasons why. Of course too much of a good thing tends to be ... well, too much. Which is why I have to think extra seriously about tackling nanowrimo. 50,000 words in a month? Like my good friend Brian said, "Editing is for whimps."
The art of saying no. I definitely need to learn to say no sometimes. I consider friendship so paramount however, that sometime it seems more worth while to help a friend than to get the things that I need to get done, done. I sped over the SFO to pick up a friend from the airport because another friend couldn't keep his committment. I ended up leaving after an hour because I couldn't find her among the hordes of people coming out of customs. At this point, I don't even know if she was on the flight. An expensive wild goose chase both in money and time. Will any one remember? Will any one care? And all I get from being a good friend is bitterness.
I think though, maybe I wasn't a good friend. Maybe a good friend would have said, I'm sorry, I can't, it's too much to ask. Maybe a good friend isn't the one who always agrees with you, even when they know you're wrong, but instead the one who sets you straight. Or maybe it's both. I may have said it before: We're all kites, we all need somebody to hold the string and somebody to blow.
It was still a crappy way to spend a long lunch.
"Somebody has too much money." That was the response I got from saying that I was willing to pay the $89 for a legal copy of Windows XP. I suppose that it's not entirely untrue. I have been very lucky to have had no money problems to speak of. Certainly, the ability to buy a house in the Bay Area isn't so much a testament to my financial prowess during these difficult times as much as it is an indication of the generousity which my parents have blessed me with. Still, I think there's something deeper at work.
I'm almost done with Fast Food Nation. One of the many ideas that Eric Scholosser puts across is that the reason that fast food is so successful is because it is cheap and it tastes good, ie it satisfies a want. It is our natural tendancy as efficient consumers follow this trend. An extreme example of this lies in the now common practice of stealing music in the form of mp3 or stealing software from the internet. It's free and it's easy. To a certain extent, we all acknowledge this point. It's hard to deny the urge to sate these simple (and seemingly harmless desires) that our peers indulge in. But at a certain point, shouldn't we consider ourselve to have enough money to pay for things legally? We blame large corportations from manipulating the system for profit. But as consumers, when we do it, we feel justified.
I recently read an article about how political issues are "framed." For example, the issue of tax relief: the term itself is a conservative viewpoint. If you talk about tax relief, you imply that we pay too much tax. I'd wager that for some people out there, ever single cent the government takes is a cent too much. I think about the houses burned in San Diego county, a predominately conservative area. I wonder if those people think about how their tax dollars help fund FEMA which will in turn give them support during this time. I wonder what they thought about the hurricane damage on the east coast. The point is, we all benefit from the taxes we pay. Whether it's in the roads that we pay for indirectly, or the wars that we don't agree to. So why is it tax relief? Why isn't it budget restructuring?
Issues are never black or white. I'm not going to come down on people who steal their small guilty pleasures or indulge on fast food. What I will do is pose a question, why is always about how much money you have and how much you can get, and not about how you spend it and what it's worth to you?
Now that I've seen it with my own eyes, it doesn't seem so bad. At least not here; I can't say what San Bernadino or San Diego are like. I look at the patchwork quilt of fire damage, trees that are half green and half brown, earth scorched down to the unburnable stone, denuded hillsides and grass golf courses side by side; and see the hard fought lines of a war that I missed by a few days. With rain starting to fall as I landed, I strangely felt no need to check the news anymore.
We drove to the cemetery today. There were blue skies streaked with high clouds and a pair of parasails overhead. Carefully manicured lawns greeted our visit to the stone niche on which we had tried to etch a place in eternity for my father two years ago. Before, I might have wonder what one talks about, standing in a cemetery. Amongst some light joking, we purused the names on nearby resting places, as we tried to figure out the best way to keep a flower pot from falling over in the wind. In short, we lived. After all, that's what you do when you're visiting a cemetery.