Sorry I haven't been around..

but I don't have an internet connection at home right now. I'll be back when I'm finally connected to the web. In the meantime, I thank the people who keep coming back here to check up on me.

New Job

Sometimes things work out. Today I accepted a new job. I'm very excited about it!

I didn't have to look very hard. Someone who used to work at my old company started working at another company and they needed to fill the position. She asked me to get in touch with her about interviewing there. I wasn't sure if I wanted to work there, it's a bit smaller company than I'm used to, but I decided to go as a good way to "practice" interviewing. Turns out it's a good fit, or at least it appears to be. I'll find out very soon when I start my new job on Monday.

Hooray!

Story Of My Life

"Everyone says 'I love you.' But just why they say it for I never knew. It's just inviting trouble for the poor sucker who says 'I love you.'" - Groucho Marx, playing guitar while in a canoe, Thelma Todd rowing...and a duck following closely behind. From the film "Horse Feathers."

Lots of people tell me I fall too fast, too quickly. I get emotionally involved at the speed of light. Conventional wisdom states that it's impossible for any man to be in a position to reciprocate in that situation. That it's caused me no end of pain and suffering. That the guys I really like(d) were/are jerks. Nothing has worked up to this point so I suppose they're right.

Still, if it weren't for people like me Groucho would not have had as funny as song to sing, certain stories, "Wuthering Heights" comes to mind, other songs, art, theater, movies, etc. would not be here.

As I've noted before I am stupid and foolish about these situations and inevitably end of up being burned/taken advantage of, but as I pointed out recently to someone I can't help how I feel. I'm sorry about that, but only in the sense that it offends others not in the sense that it bothers me.

So as I wander the fogged-in moors of my love life wearing velvet overcoat and carrying a cane with a squeaky horn and slightly crushed top hat, I see hope in all places. Love does that to me even after it's kicked me repeatedly in the teeth. There are many songs to sing, stories to tell and read. I have faith in the power of love. I'm not sure about my faith in myself and I certainly don't know about faith in most men, but I place my faith in love. It's all strangeness anyway.

And to make everyone else happy I'll try to keep a lid on my emotions more next time.

Yes, Minister & Yes, Prime Minister

"Yes, Minister" and "Yes, Prime Minister" are British television sitcoms which aired from 1980 to 1988. I bought "Yes, Minister" for my brother as a birthday present, but had never watched it. I finally sat down one evening with him and we took in one of the episodes.

The show is brilliant. I haven't watched much TV, but it's up there with the best shows I've ever seen. In fact, I think these two shows, which always have to be taken together, might be the best thing I've ever seen on television.

The shows are about the machinations and political goings on behind the scenes of the British government. The three main characters: Paul Eddington, Derek Fowlds and a spectacular Nigel Hawthorne are perfect and have marvelous chemistry. The dialog is not only hysterical, but incredible feats of acting. Great, great stuff.

I bought "Yes, Prime Minster" for my brother's Christmas present and we watched a few episodes. The show usually concerns Jim Hacker (Eddington) as the Minister, and later Prime Minister, trying to make some progress with his policies, and Sir Humphrey Appleby (Hawthorne) as his Permanent Secretary, and later Cabinet Secretary, trying to oppose them. There's a lot of manipulation, circuitous explanations, head butting and horse trading going on. Appleby usually manages to get the best of Hacker, but sometimes he doesn't. Derek Fowlds plays Bernard Woolley, Hacker's Principal Private Secretary, and is usually caught between the two. It's easy to focus on Nigel Hawthorne's amazing Sir Humphrey as it is the showiest role, but Paul Eddington and Derek Fowlds roles are essential and just as admirable.

One of my favorite things to do during the show, in addition to having a great time and a good laugh, is to look at all the men's exquisitely tailored suits and to take note of their beautiful ties, pocket squares, and shirts. Someone there at the BBC has great taste in menswear. My brother was commenting that Sir Humphrey has the most beautiful suits. I disagreed. I explained to him that the reason they look so great on him is most of the time he is sitting up straight and many of the other characters are sitting slumped. Eddington as the Prime Minister probably has the best suits, shirts, ties and pocket squares, as he should.

Now, I haven't seen "West Wing" but I'm told it's very good, but can it be as good as these two shows? Here's a short clip from "Yes, Prime Minister - The Tangled Web" for your enjoyment:

YouTube Fun

Space between atoms/current favorite movie trailer/Miss Turtle feeds the penguins.

Hurray! An answer to one of Miss Turtle's most burning questions: What is UP with all the space between atoms? I've been wondering about the answer to this question for years and here I've found it on YouTube. Long live YouTube!



Next up is my current favorite movie preview "The Dark Knight." This shows our first look at Heath Ledger's Joker. Now the Joker comes with some serious pedigree in terms of the actors who have portrayed him, but I'm thinking this is looking promising.



Last, but not least. Someone at the Aquarium found a short video of me feeding the penguins! It was taken by someone in the audience. I had no idea the video had been posted.

Back to "Bird by Bird"

I don't know what the hell I'm doing. This is not a new idea, it's just that during this floppy, scrappy time of unemployment this truth has been brought to my consciousness front and center.

Last Tuesday I splurged using my finite financial resources and went to see Anne Lamott speak at the Jewish Community Center here in SF. Anne Lamott has written a number of books about religion and other topics. What she is most known for people like me is her classic book on writing "Bird by Bird."

I read "Bird by Bird" years ago and didn't like it. There was nothing new there, I thought, that I hadn't read in a bunch of other books on writing. I didn't like how insecure she was or how she seemed to flail around. True, she is a great writer, but I was uncomfortable with her brutal honesty. I didn't want to take advice or emulate a person who seemed so damn clueless. I wanted confidence and security. I set the book aside and checked it off as having read it. I would find what I was looking for elsewhere.

I don't know why I went to see her other than the fact that "Bird by Bird" is a classic now. Maybe I wanted to sit in a dark auditorium and hear someone who writes for a living speak. I hadn't read any of her other books. I was feeling, and still am feeling, lost and inefficient.

Seeing Anne was a revelation for me. She was funny, poignant, brilliant, and oh-so-brutally honest. She spoke to me and made me feel a sense of hope. She said she doesn't know what the hell she's doing either and that no matter how many books you've published, you'll still feel that way. Fortunately for me she focused on reiterating her ideas for writing and how those ideas can help you with the rest of your life.

She talked about the insecurities that she battles with on a daily, hourly basis. She talked about her feelings and how they get so overwhelming. She talked about how it is possible to be productive and to write the truth even when all this crap is whirling around in your head like a blinding snowstorm.

When I read "Bird by Bird" over ten years ago, I didn't like how she talked about all the distractions that get in the way, all the insecurities and all the feelings. At that time I wasn't writing regularly. I was arrogant. I knew I wouldn't have these problems at all. Now that I write on a somewhat regular basis and have a small body of work behind me everything Anne wrote about is true. It seems the deeper I get into this writing thing, the less I know. I feel like I'm crawling around in the mud all the time, searching for a way out, searching for a plan, guidance, a sign pointing me in the right direction. There is no sign and it's so painful. And lonely.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Anne said everything would be fine in her life if she just didn't have a mind that comes up with so much crap all the time. I have that problem too. I also think that all my love relationships would work out great if I didn't fall in love with the guy. Everything would be simpler and easier for both of us.

I tell myself to relax and enjoy and I can't. Instead, lurking in the back of my head is the first draft of my novel and I don't know what the hell to do with it. I have to finish it. There are at least three novels and two more short stories rolling around in my head right now, not to mention at least two or three short stories that have already been written and need to be finished. I'm not doing the stories any justice.

****

I'm still learning how to swim and the hardest thing for me is learning how to breathe. Yesterday, I took my second lesson and struggled with exhaling with my face in the water, then turning my head to the side and taking a breath. I sucked in water. I coughed. I got scared. My swimming instructor is wonderful and was able to keep me going. He told me how he's taught people how to swim who were terrified to be in the water. It's all about taking one step at a time and putting it together slowly. And practicing.

I realized while blowing out bubbles during one of my drills that I don't have to force the air out. I can be quieter and gentler about it. I don't have to rush. I don't have to push. I can just let myself be in the water. I figured out that even if I start to get scared as it kick my way across the pool, even if I get that sudden fear that I won't be able to breathe when I have my face in the water, I can still gently do my breathing exercises and I can still make to the other side of the pool. And I can continue to go back and forth across the pool like that.

****

Anne's suggestions:

1) Short Assignments - All you have to remember is you just need to do one piece of whatever it is. For writing, all that means is you need to focus on one paragraph, one small scene, one exchange, one inch of writing.

2) Shitty First Drafts - Anne says everyone writes terrible first drafts. Unreadable. Awful. Cringe inducing, painful first drafts. She says it's all right. All you have to do is get it down on paper (or the computer). Only after you've done that will you have something you can fix up.

....

This is where I'm stuck for I have lots of first drafts of stories/novels. I don't know how to fix them up. Well, okay. I think I've figured it out finally at least for this moment with this novel, but for the most part I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

And the older I get, the less I know, but when I say that I'm not just saying it to be cute or cliche. When I say the older I get, the less I know, I mean in a despairing, God-help-me-as-I-crawl-across-the-harsh-muddy-swamp-with-horrible-bugs-biting-at-me kind of not knowing. Usually I lie there among the bugs, the mud, the smell. I cry in frustration. I exhaust myself. The result is I end up doing nothing. I've got plenty of time to do anything and I spend much of it doing nothing. Despair. Pain. Desire.

****

One inch of writing. Keep doing my breathing exercises in the water as I'm swimming across the pool even when I'm convinced I'm going to drown. The first draft does and will suck; write it down anyway. Keep moving forward, slowly and gently.

What I've Been Doing With Myself

It's amazing how much of your time is filled when you're not working. My biggest problem is I stay up too late and then get up late. I haven't been getting as much done as I'd like. I feel like a slacker. I feel very inefficient.

I read that the purpose of our lives is not to be efficient, just like the purpose of objects is not to be useful. I'm not sure how that applies to me, but the principles are sound enough.

Here's how I've been filling my time lately:

• I've been taking swimming lessons. The new penguin display pool is going to be three times the size of the one now and eight feet deep. Everyone who works in there is required to take a swim test. Since I have the time I've been taking swimming lessons and practicing at the pool. I can swim a little (more of a dog paddle), but I'm not comfortable in the water. These lessons are really good for me. A huge challenge for me is learning to how to breathe and getting used to the rhythm. After I get a job and get proficient with swimming, I want to take a climbing wall class.

• I've been running errands once a week for one of my friends. She pays me a good hourly wage for my efforts. It gets me out of the house and doing something useful for someone else.
  

• I've been doing some poking around with the job hunting, but nothing too serious. I did manage to get a phone interview for a company I very casually sent my resume too. That was a nice boost.

• I've been volunteering at the Aquarium. It's a really exciting time since we're gearing up to do the transfer back to the new Aquarium in less than a month.

• I've been working through the online classes the employment placement agency offers on their website. The company gave me access to the employment placement agency as part of my severance, and it has been very helpful. In fact, I worked through the "interviewing" module class just before my phone interview and it was really helpful.

Things I should be doing:

• Working more quickly through the online classes.

• Reviewing my health insurance/COBRA information and figuring all that out.

• Calling people I used to work with to see if they'll be a reference for me.

• Revising my novel. I'm sounding like a broken record now.

• Finishing the Gotham Writers' Workshop book I've been really enjoying.

• Working through my Netflix queue. It's pathetic how many movies I haven't been watching lately when I have all this time.

• Exploring neighborhoods in this City so I can do some of those blog posts for a change.
  

Things I should not be doing:

• Obsessing over a lost love.

• Sleeping in every single day.

• Going to see "No Country for Old Men" a fourth time. I just found out the DVD is not due out until March of 2008. Grrr.
  

• Buying unnecessary items. Earlier this week I bought two new bath mats. They were on a shopping list I had. It's true the old ones were over 15 years old, but they would have done just fine until after I got a new job.
  

City Life: At the 76 Station Near 19th Ave. and Judah

"Well, I guess I better go outside now. I can't eat in front you and I really need to finish this sandwich."
- A guy I was talking to at the service station while waiting for my tires to be changed.

I walked into the tiny waiting room and sat down next to this guy who looked like a goofier version of Bono around 1991 or so. It also looked like he was wearing foundation that was a touch too pink for his skin, but no matter. He asked me what I was doing there and then told me about the van he'd just bought for $1,200 that was being checked out. Then he kept talking about how the mechanics at the gas station were ripping us off. It was raining outside. Joe, the owner of the station, kept calling me sweetheart as he walked back and forth. Cars came and went with steady frequency.

The price of gas was $3.45/gallon.

The goofy Bono look-a-like guy kept talking to me about...whatever. How the mirror opposite of us could be a two way mirror. About his new, used van and how it was costing him $400 to get checked out. When he told me about having to go outside to finish his sandwich I told him I could turn my head and not look at him while he was eating and how it wasn't necessary to go outside in the rain.

I didn't see him after that. It didn't seem like he even came back to pay for his car and I was there for a long time. Strange.

Working Life: Transition Discomfort

I've been seriously remiss with these blog posts. I apologize to my readers.

I've been spending most of my time pondering what I'm supposed to do next and planning the rest of December. Several interesting feelings have been coming up for me.

• Guilt over not being employed. It just feels really wrong to not be working.
  
• Worry about having a finite amount of money in my bank account. It's really scary knowing that another paycheck isn't coming in anytime soon.
• Lack of motivation. I just don't feel like doing much of anything, but I still manage to get things done anyway.
  
• A worrisome nagging suspicion that I don't necessarily want to go to another "company" and do what I was doing before.

I've come up with different ways of dealing with the above feelings. The company provided me with access to an employment placement agency who will help me assess my skills, look over my resume, and help me come up with a job hunting plan. I heard that a lot people who are laid off don't bother with these services even if their former employer offers to pay for them, but I have to say I've enjoyed attending all the seminars they've offered so far. Plus, I think it will help me with my desire to "assess" my skills and see if I could do some other kind of work.

I've been going through "Apartment Therapy," a book with an eight week program for getting your apartment in shape. I've also been going through the Gotham Writers' Workshop book "Writing Fiction." I wanted to take an actual online class, but can't afford it right now. The book was $15 and is a writing course in itself. I also just bought a book called "Time Off! The Leisure Guide to San Francisco." It's about low cost ways to enjoy the City especially if you've been laid off, and goes into detail about how to use your newfound time, and how to deal with job hunting, finances, etc.

It feels really uncomfortable not working. I keep thinking I should get on the ball and get cracking, but I really want to take the time to figure what kind of work situation I want to be in. There are huge alarms going off in my head and they're saying "WAIT! WAIT! Don't rush into anything! Explore, ponder and figure things out!!!!"

I guess that means I need to take this time off rather than throwing myself at another high paying, but soul sucking job. I'm very close to considering doing something really different and taking a pay cut. I need to figure out what that something is.

Llewelyn and Me

"An adventure, perhaps?"

"No, sir, not now." Mr. Gryphon says nothing more. I am gazing out over the dry dusty land. We are sitting on an overlook, the hot rough stones are jagged and unforgiving. Below us is the desert floor dotted with scrubby bushes. I can hear the sound of his boots on the ground. I look over my right shoulder at Moss approaching the cliff. He's wearing a straw cowboy hat, his dark hair sticks out here and there, his brown cowboy boots have taken a beating. He's also carrying a shotgun. He can't see Mr. Gryphon and me sitting nearby. Moss is looking down on a group of trucks and SUVs below us. They are parked in a rough wagon style circle. He squints his eyes and then looks at the scene through his binoculars.

I look out beyond the vehicles at the line of scrub in the distance, above is the open blue sky.

"Bad things down there, Miss Turtle."

"Hm yes. Heroin deal gone wrong," I say absently, still looking out beyond. I can't see all the dead bodies lying on the ground, but I know they're there.

"It's hot," Mr. Gryphon observes. I look at him directly. He is wearing Raybans and clutching a large transparent yellow bottle of water with a straw sticking out. Pieces of ice float in the water. Llewelyn Moss is making his way down to the trucks. I want to watch the rest of it, want to follow Llewelyn on his journey through hell, but I'm only distracting myself again.

I stand up with effort, dust myself off. "All right, Mr. Gryphon." He stands up as well and we turn to go back the way Llewelyn came in. I take the bottle of water from Mr. Gryphon and drink deeply. A door appears after about a quarter mile of walking in the beating heat. It's hanging in mid-air, fading slowly in and out, like a ghost door that got separated from its haunted house. I reach for the doorknob and give it a turn. The door goes solid and it's dark blue color comes into focus. I open the door and walk through. Mr. Gryphon follows and pulls the door shut behind us.

We are back in the newly constructed giant maze in the new wing of the living quarters of my imagination. I'm tired and a little hungry. I walk through the twisting corridors to the front entrance, climb the stairs and move towards the huge kitchen down the long hallway.

After we get there, Mr. Gryphon bustles around the kitchen after shooing the Cook away. He is making a smoothie for me (blueberries and raspberries). I am sitting at the counter, not doing anything.

"I keep thinking I need a manual, an outline for how to live, Mr. Gryphon."

He looks at me before turning on the blender. He knows better than not to say anything when I start talking like this.

"Thing is, I can't seem to find that manual. What about a code? Do you think that will help? What am I supposed to do next?" I watch Mr. Gryphon pour out the purple contents of the smoothie into a tall glass. He pours out another one for himself.

"I just don't know what to do," I say, "I mean, the stakes are much higher now. I mean, I don't have a job anymore so I have to figure something out soon, right?" He places the smoothie in front of me and slips a clean straw into it. I take a drink. It's wonderfully cold.

"If I were Llewelyn my purpose would be very clear, take the money and run from the horrific evil that's pursuing you, but I got no horrific evil pursuing me."

"We could find that evil if you want, Miss Turtle," says Mr. Gryphon carefully. I look at him over beautiful stone counter tops and shiny new gas stove.

"Seems a little counterproductive, don't you think? Shouldn't I be focusing on larger issues?" I ask.

"There is no larger issue that running to save your own life. Nothing like it to bring everything into focus," Mr. Gryphon sits next to me and takes a sip from his smoothie.

"Maybe that's what I need more focus, less mission statement, less broad overview. More specificity," the tiles on the back spash above the sink are a repeat of the beautiful stone countertop but also have hand painted tiles here and there to add color.

"More specificity," I mutter. Mr. Gryphon says nothing more. I am tired from talking about it. I am tired from wondering about it. I'm just plain tired. I feel like my brain is on overload. I feel like my brain is exerting too much effort even for the simplest of decisions. I even have difficulty trying to decide what to eat for dinner nowadays. I need quiet and rest.

Maybe I should go back and start following Llewelyn around until I get my bearings again.

Movie Musings: A Movie is Nothing

The floor of the old convenience store is wooden and dirty. I walk slowly towards the counter. Things are slow and easy in my world, as familiar as the sound of my cowboy boots on the old wood.

A man, useless and red faced, is standing at the counter.

"How much for these? And the gas?" I say picking up a small bag of sunflower seeds. I open them slowly and begin eating them one at a time.
"Will there be anything else for you, sir?" he asks as if he didn't hear me.

Weak and stupidly polite. The rest of our exchange seems so mildly confrontational, but in the end we are negotiating for the man's life and he knows it.

***

Today I saw the movie "No Country for Old Men." And I'll confess because I'm sort of proud of this even though most of you might think it's nuts, but who cares what you all think of my movie goings? I saw "No Country for Old Men " at the 1:55 pm show and then again at the 4:50 pm show. Same theater, paid for it twice.

Why did I do that? Because I can do whatever the fuck I want, that's why. I don't have anybody to bitch at me or anyone to tell me that what I REALLY want to do is somehow wrong or stupid or not what THEY want to do.

Now when I say I couldn't take my eyes off this film, I mean that literally and I have the movie tickets to prove it. I loved this film. I loved it's uncompromising ending. I loved the cast, but especially Javier Bardem. If you want something that's going to be a clean, tidy and satisfying ending on a meditation about the nature of evil then don't go see this movie because you won't like it.

What I liked best about it was watching the characters closely. They are all vividly drawn and a wonderful study for when I think about my own characters. Even the minor characters, the ones who only had a part of a scene, are vivid and distinctive. The dialog is just great. Some great lines there.

***

On the other hand, a movie is nothing. It's a bunch of lies called a story that flashes up there on the screen so you can sit in the dark (or in your living room) staring. Sometimes such a thing can elicit an emotional response or make you think or be enjoyable, but that's it. I don't think it's all that much. I passed two young women on the way out of the mall where the movie was playing and they were chatting about how "cute" all these useless Christmas displays were, how much they loved certain stores. I looked around and everyone was carrying a large shopping bag. I can't believe I used to be like those girls at one time. I can't believe I used to believe that shopping was a recreational activity.

(and what's more, I can't believe that men want to fall in love with such shallow girls, even men my age. they don't seem to care about them shopping and cooing about Christmas displays. as long as they're young, thin and "hot" that's all they're interested in).

Which is "better" watching a bunch of lies called a movie (or book for that matter) or supporting our economy by going shopping (and sounding like a dipshit while you're at it)? Since I consider myself one of the "liars" who make up stories, I'm going to go with making up a bunch of "lies" as the better activity. At least I'm moved and intrigued. Is that better? I don't know.

Working Life: The Big Kiss Off

Approximately 12 hours ago I was sitting in bed having taken a mental health day off. Absolutely nothing was going on at work and I had just finished with a big project so I felt like I earned it.

I got an email on my Blackberry from a girlfriend who mentioned that "[The company] has been laying people off, I heard." Eager to get some details, I called my girlfriend on my cell phone when a call from the company came through at the same time. I took the call. It was my boss.

She started out by telling me that she didn't feel right having to say what she needed to say on the phone and asked me if I wanted to come into the office. "Just say what you need to say, right now," I said, my voice cold and even. I was already reaching for my pen and a random pad of paper. She explained to me that my position had been eliminated and I no longer had a job effective at that moment. She explained the severance package a little. I took notes. She faltered in the middle saying again that she felt it was wrong to have to tell me all this on the phone and not in person. I merely replied "Keep Talking. Finish Saying What You Need to Say to Me." We made arrangements for me to get my severance package delivered.

My voice broke and cracked only at the end of our conversation. I was glad of that. I sat staring into space after I clicked my phone off. I was out of a job. It came with no warning. I wasn't the only one. In fact, there were a bunch of us in the same boat.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of phone calls, tears, reviewing of paperwork, reviewing of my financial situation, more phone calls, more tears, more calls to the company to find out who else was being piled into the boat with me.

After a while I managed to get over my initial panic because I realized I had enough money to last me for at least six to eight months, if necessary. If my unemployment lasts longer than that I still have options, I can still start over. I felt very lucky. Much luckier than many of the others I'm in this same boat with because I'm a single woman with no mortgage, no kids, no car payment and a very supportive family. The fact that this has happened right before the Holidays is not going to make things more difficult for me.

Many people asked me what I'm going to do. The current plan is to relax for at least a week and then slowly get back into looking for another job. The Holidays are a lousy time to job hunt so I don't expect much to happen. After the first of the year, I'll be pounding the pavement along with everybody else. Of course, this plan is subject to change.

Life has really gotten strange now. 24 hours ago I was waxing poetic about the Momentary Dance and musing about how I see myself differently because a man pulled me into his arms a few weeks ago. Now the company has given me one huge kiss off. Oddly enough I sense that these two happenings, unrelated as they are, will twine together around me. How I change and stay the same will be affected by these two events. It's going to be an interesting ride.

2007 Trip: Loneliness

Since I got on the plane without my traveling companion I had difficulty shaking off the loneliness I was feeling during the first part of my trip. I had been looking forward to traveling with someone to share things with. The first few nights in my room, I wondered everything from "Shouldn't I just forget about everything and go home?" to "What is karmically wrong with me that I get left alone at the fucking airport gate just before a much anticipated vacation?"

I was feeling down much of the time in D.C. After leaving the U.S. Botanic Garden, I walked to the Air and Space Museum, surely one of the greatest museums in the world, and had to leave after 15 minutes. The last time I was in D.C., I spent a precious few 4o minutes in Air and Space due to the severe time constraints. I had to leave, though. My traveling companion would have loved this museum. In fact, we would have spent at least two days there. Instead, I only managed to get a picture of the actual Spirit of St. Louis before leaving:

Even now, seeing this picture makes me wince.

That night back at the hotel I sat and wondered once again what the hell I was going to do. I had no plans for the next couple of days. I felt I should throw in the towel and just give up. As I indulged myself in channel surfing (a real novelty for me since I don't own a TV), I decided since I was already in Washington, D.C. I had to challenge myself to make the best of it. This was a good decision, but it didn't take away the empty feeling. I had to come up with another way to deal with this feeling. That night I couldn't think of anything, but as I was nodding off an idea popped into my head. I'll show you want I mean in the next post.

2007 Trip: Conservatory - Orchid Room

The Conservatory had a room just for orchids. It was cooler than other parts of the Conservatory and was wet and drippy like a cool forest. Orchids were everywhere. On the ground, on the trees branches above my head, along a wet wall and hanging in various places.

Many of the orchids were big and showy like this one.

I like this one's spidery shape.

Getting close up pictures of these flowers was difficult. My new camera does not have a real manual focus so many of my photos from this day came out blurry. It's difficult to take a good picture of an orchid without getting as close as possible since the shapes and details of these flowers are so striking.

This is not a vanilla orchid, by the way.

While I lingered in the the room, a docent with a group came in. I listened to her talk about the orchids. She pointed out the vanilla planifolia orchid, a small unassuming climbing vine orchid in the trees above us. She explained how we get vanilla beans for our vanilla flavoring from this plant. I had no idea. I knew vanilla beans came from a plant, but did not know it was an orchid. Very interesting. I couldn't get a picture of it because I couldn't see where she was pointing.

You can see in these pictures how shady and drippy it is in this room. They have the misters going on pretty regularly in here.

Some orchids are otherworldy, like this one. I love the strips and spots.

I've been told that certain orchids like it here in SF due to the cool, foggy climate. I may yet get a couple to see how I do with them here.

2007 Trip: Conservatory

After my hop-on-hop-off bus tour, I spent some time in the Conservatory at the U.S. Botanic Garden. The Conservatory is lovely, even if it isn't that large. They have a wonderful collection of plants.

Palm Trees.

Conservatories are fun places. They have a romantic feeling to them like you're only just beginning to find your best life among the beautiful flowers, plants, trees, humidity and water. Reminds of me a glassed in Garden of Eden. We humans were made to love plants.

Glorious, eh? I made sure I took a picture of the sign so I would remember the name later.


Something about the light today made everything sheer and glowy.

I couldn't get over the color on this flower. Scarlet, Orange, Sunset, Velvet are words that come to mind.

This is some kind of pine tree, if I recall. I was taken by the directions the leaves are going in. Reminds of how hair flows.

This is really strange, but before my trip I had a dream I was looking at this flower. The flower petals are shaped like overlapping leaves instead of being in a circular shape like a rose. In my dream I was looking at this flower very closely and taking in the yellow color. The place and the light in my dream is exactly the same as it is here. I don't know the name of this plant; there was no sign.

This fern was located in the Garden Primeval section of the Conservatory. I had such a difficult time getting a focused shot, but I loved how the light was coming through at that moment.

They had a nice room of succulents and cacti.

Sometimes I think about picking some kind of plant and allowing it to grow into an obsession. Some of the men I've been attracted to have had such an obsession including rare succulents that look like they came from another planet, odd looking orchids and carnivorous plants.

Desire to Share

"I re-learned something today, Mr. Gryphon."

"And what is that, Miss Turtle?"

I don't reply at first. Mr. Gryphon and I are inspecting the newly finished subterranean maze in the new living quarters of my imaginary library. This maze is only a little larger than the one that was in the basement of Mr. Gryphon's former mansion. Like the old maze there are doors lining the wide hallways. At each intersection there's a "you are here" map. As we walk through I note the odd titles on the doors: Area 51, Sherwood Forest, Minas Tirith and Europa (moon). Here and there are wooshing sounds because the doors and their contents are always changing.

I stop and study a door that has just appeared. It says The Sinking of the Titanic. "We can take a look if you want, Miss Turtle." He indicates the door knob.

"No, I'm not up for floundering around in freezing water right now. Perhaps later. Anyway, today I re-learned that even if you make great strides towards something, such as conquering your insecurities, that doesn't keep you from feeling lonely."

Mr. Gryphon looks at his feet and then at me "I'm here," he says softly. I look at his lovely golden feathers and reach for his hand. It is large, furry and reassuring. We stand there in the hallway just looking at each other.

"Yes, you are here and I'm grateful for it, but you know what I mean. I would like a human male who cares about me to share these things with."

"Hm. I know that's what you want, but know this, Miss Turtle, even when you find that man I will still be here even when you stop talking to me. I will still follow you everywhere like I do now."

"I will never stop talking to you," I say. We move on down the hallway, the sound of the wooshing doors in the background. "You know, even with my greatest accomplishment, I don't think that will keep me from feeling lonely sometimes."

"Many people who have someone feel lonely from time to time," says Mr. Gryphon.

We reach an intersection of the maze. The "you are here" is indicated with a bulls-eye. In front of us is a door that says Beatles Debut on the Ed Sullivan Show. I look at Mr. Gryphon with a smile.

"I think I want to be in that audience, screaming with the rest, Mr. Gryphon." He reaches for the door knob and opens the door. The sound of the screaming audience is overwhelming. I walk through and am dressed like one of the girls with those cat-eye glasses and a plaid dress. We are in Ed Sullivan's television studio. I'm shocked by the color since the only time I've ever seen it is in black and white. I move along on the aisles and find my seat. I scream and feel the electricity in the air. The room is exploding with anticipation. In a few minutes, Ed Sullivan will come out and announce the American debut of the Beatles. Mr. Gryphon has moved off to the stage near the camera man. Even he seems excited. I imagine the Beatles standing behind that curtain and scream some more. A young girl next to me faints. I don't feel so lonely anymore, but the desire to share all this, even this make believe fantasy, remains.

2007 Trip: Monuments

When I got to Washington, D.C., I decided to follow the itinerary because I didn't know what else to do. For the first full day, Friday 9/22/07, I walked from the hotel which was located about two blocks from the National Gallery on the Mall towards Union Station so I could take my hop-on-hop-off bus tour. It became immediately apparent that I'd brought the wrong sandals so when I got to Union Station I bought a pair of those ugly sneaker sandals. I wore them for the entire trip. They are wonderful.

The weather in DC was in the upper 80s and something like 90% humidity. Miss Turtle is not used to such sweltering heat. To give you an idea of the contrast, it was about 63 degrees today here in SF with 74% humidity. When we have humidity here, it's usually fog or mist related. It feels a half a world from the kind of humidity in DC. I was sweating bullets by the time I got to the train station.

While at the train station, I canceled the Boston leg of the my trip and booked a first class train ticket to NYC for later in the week, then I got on the tour bus. Here's a picture of the Library of Congress.



I didn't take as many pictures as you might have thought on this trip. My camera is pretty heavy and I got tired of hefting in around. On that same Friday, I took a night tour of the DC monuments. The tour kicked my ass, but it was GREAT! I highly recommend it to anyone.

Our Nation's Capital, of course.

Night shot.

These bus tours are fun. I used to think they were really cheesy, but I took one when we went to London and it was really valuable. They give you the lay of the land, tell you lots of history and trivia of the area, allow you to see parts of the city you won't have time to see later and get you oriented. It rained a little while I was sitting on top of the bus. Everyone else went downstairs, but since I was prepared with my umbrella I stayed where I was. The rain was warm and had a sweet, gentle quality.

The monuments in DC at night are so beautiful. The night was warm and friendly and there were lots of people around, lots of other bus tours all doing the same thing.

The Lincoln Memorial is overwhelming. Sure, we've all seen pictures of it, but when you are standing a few feet a way from where Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his "I have a dream" speech, it was all I could do to keep myself from crying.

Korean Vets Memorial.

All of the monuments I saw were beautiful and moving, but none of them hit me like the Korean Vets Memorial. A bunch of life size bronze men are trudging through the difficult terrain, weighed down by their gear. They look all around, watching for enemy fire. Their faces are gaunt and exhausted. Their faces are beautiful. I tried in vain to get a face shot, but it was too dark.

I overheard a woman saying she's been to this memorial while it's been raining and that makes it even more realistic. She said she couldn't stop crying that night.

The last time I was here, I had time to see only one memorial so I picked the Vietnam Vets Memorial. It's amazing and so sad. Since the Wall is black and it was nighttime, I elected to not try to see that one this time around. Instead, I spent the rest of the time sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial looking out at the Washington Monument and enjoying all the people and the beautiful night.

2007 Trip: Standing On the Edge of the Eastern Seaboard

We'd planned this trip for about three months. I was looking forward to it because, Godammit, I needed a vacation. My manager put it best, "You find yourself on the edge of mental illness and then you go on vacation. When you get back you're all nice and happy and recharged."

My traveling companion and I drove to the airport (SFO). We checked our bags, ate lunch and then made our way to the gate. Our itinerary was supposed to be as follows: 5 days in Washington DC, 2.5 days in NYC and 2.5 days in Boston. All arrangements had been made at least three months in advance.

We got to the gate and my traveling companion turned to me and said "I think you're going to have to go alone." I turned to him and laughed, and he said "Yes, you're going to have to go alone. I'm not getting on the plane." Then he walked away. Really walked away. As in walked away and walked out of the airport without me.

At this point in the post, it would be an appropriate time to write "WTF???!!!!" but I can't stand the term "WTF??!!" I mean, if you're going to take the trouble to write three capital letters and some question marks/explanation points you might as well do it right:

WHAT THE FUCK????!!!!!

Folks, just do it up right from now on. Don't bother with the three initials. It makes you look like you're trying to go back to your fabled years of mid-adolescence (unless you really are there).

Keep in mind that we were standing in line, holding our tickets and getting ready to board the plane with everybody else. I went to use the ladies room. I was hoping I would come back and he would be back at the gate looking for me, but that did not occur.

I made a single phone call and not knowing what else to do, got on the plane.

Who is this person, my former traveling companion? I'd rather not say, but I will tell you he was not one of useless assholes I've been dating lately. Why did he walk away like that? Turns out he's so claustrophobic on planes that he just couldn't get on board. Why didn't he tell me this earlier? Difficult to say, but I venture to guess that he really thought it was going to be fine, but realized at the last possible minute that he just couldn't do it.

We all have our limitations and phobias and I can't fault him for that.

On the plane, I sat there feeling freaked out. There's no other accurate way to put it. The guy in the same row with me asked if I was all right. I told him no and explained what had just happened only a few minutes earlier. We talked about it and he confessed that he'd never heard of anything like that. The plane was delayed on the runway for a hour because of an electrical problem and I knew my traveling companion had made the right decision. He would have gone nuts.

While sitting there I thought of all the things I could do. I could completely change my trip around. I had almost two weeks off from work and I could go anywhere. After mulling over the possibilities, I decided I would get to DC, collect my luggage, cancel everything and then catch a flight to Rome, Italy. Feeling a bit bright about my new idea, I happily thought about seeing the Vatican, the Coliseum, Florence and Venice. Then I realized I didn't have my passport and knew I wasn't going anywhere outside the U.S. Shit. While waiting to take off, I pictured myself in standing on the edge of the Eastern Seaboard looking out across the Atlantic towards the country shaped like a boot.

Since we were so delayed, I had to run though the George Bush Houston Airport to catch my connecting flight. I almost didn't make it. I can't stand running through airports. The only time worse than that was when I had to sprint through Chicago O'Hare.

I settled myself in my seat on the Houston runway. The surreal aspects of my situation came even sharper into focus. "What the fuck am I going to do?" I said out loud. I decided to take it one step at a time. For now, the next step was to get to Washington DC.

When we planned the trip, my former traveling companion and I had planned the trip around things we both like to do (see museums, aquariums, etc.) and this is a fine way to spend a vacation. The problem I was having was if I had known I was going to have almost two weeks off from work and traveling alone, I would have planned a very different vacation. I would have definitely gone to Italy to see the big three (Rome, Florence and Venice) and I might have even planned a stop to Paris.

I have plenty of experience traveling alone, but I've never traveled alone for this long. I wasn't sure what I was going to do next.

City Life: Overheard at Balboa Theatre/Superbad

Man in line after paying for movie ticket: "Hey, where's the restroom?"

Young, hip, weary ticket guy: "See those two signs there?" He gestures to his right.

Man in line: "Oh, you mean those huge signs that say 'Restrooms, men and women'?" He ambles off. Woman with him looks at me and giggles in embarrassment.

Young, hip, weary ticket guy (to me): "Yeah, we keep the restrooms at the end of a GIANT maze to confuse everyone." He artfully rolls his eyes.

The Balboa Theatre is an older movie theatre located in the Outer Richmond out by 35th Avenue. Some days might be sunny, but the nights always seem to have it shrouded in fog. I don't mind driving out there since it's just on the other side of GGP from my apartment. Parking can be a bit of a pain, but at least you can find it.

***
Superbad (2007)

Dir. Greg Mottola

Recommended. Superbad doesn't get its own separate entry. I liked it. It was stunningly crude in parts, particularly the language, but I have to admit getting a little thrill from it all. I laughed out loud many times, but I had seen "King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters" less than a half hour earlier and that was a much funnier, better film.

I really enjoyed their mega-nerdy friend Fogall and his "journey" in the movie. Great soundtrack (good soul music).

A fun time.

Movie Musings: King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (2007)

Dir. Seth Gordon

This is a documentary about two men competing for the highest score in the arcade game classic, Donkey Kong.

Highly Recommended. This is a really good movie.

The world of video game competition is one that I'm completely unfamiliar with. This movie opens that world up, as small and nutty as it is, to someone like me who has never, ever given a thought to it.

And yet...this movie was really interesting. The gaming world has its own rules and obsessions. Sometimes you can't believe that these people are that into it, but they are. The rivalry between the two men, world champ Billy Mitchell and up-and-coming contender Steve Wiebe, makes for some riveting storytelling. Will underdog Steve beat Billy's record? Is Billy as shifty as he seems in the movie? Will Steve's wife give up on him? Will Billy show up and play in public? What's up with that videotape, anyway?

And this story is moving because we are following the trials and tribulations of the people involved. Steve's underdog status isn't just for the Donkey Kong high score, but also applies to most of his life.

Lastly, this movie is hilarious. From the bizarre comments and behavior by the gamers who are deadly serious about this business, to the situations both men find themselves in, to the blurted comments from the mouths of kids, this movie is laugh-out-loud funny.

Go see it or rent it. At the very least, you'll have something really interesting to tell your friends and family about.