Test 1-2-3

This is a test for my mother who is thinking of starting her own poetry blog.

Hidden Abalone Under My Feet

Daily, I wander down that old road. Its gold colored bricks and sideline orchids cast a heavenly glow, but heaven it is not. I move slowly hoping for a sign or for someone to come along, but it's just me as usual.

My solitude has become familiar to me much like a pair of well-worn jeans. I think about how my time has passed and wonder what's in store for me now. Am I past my prime? Will my solitude extend into forever? No one knows.

I dream of a man who's a low-key genius, who is kind and funny. Who sits in the dark. I keep hearing more reports about him. I keep hearing that he is more wonderful than I ever dreamed he'd be. I want to tell him how I feel about him. I want him to know I feel this longing but it is too much for us, both apart and together.

Today was a once in a lifetime. A few hours that will never be duplicated or planned for ever again. They told me they were glad I was there, that they knew I wouldn't have missed it for anything. They know me well. I sloshed around with the others. Salt water splashed on my face. I felt like I would burst with gratitude all day long.

I feel marvelously happy and achingly sad tonight.

It's been a good day to think about these things.

They Say The Best Camera Is The One You Use All The Time

Since I got a monster tax return this year I decided to buy myself a new point-and-shoot camera. You can see the first pictures in the previous post. It's a Panasonic DMC-TZ4 with 10x zoom and it shoots 8 megapixal pictures. The zoom was a must have for me. I have my nice Canon Powershot, but it's a bit bulky to carry around every day and I've found that carrying a camera with me all the time encourages me to shoot more spontaneously and to think more about posting on this blog.

I'm embarrassed to say I now have two nice 35 mm cameras, the Canon Powershot and now this camera and I'm still not using any of them to their full potential. Part of this is because I just don't know what they're capable of. I need to take a few photography classes.

City Life: Last Night's View From My Window

Pierre is Still the Alpha Male

I wrote about Pierre the Penguin quite a while ago, here's the link since he is one of the penguins I work with regularly. As you can see from a previous video I posted (see it here), Pierre is 25 years and had lost all his feathers. The biologists at the Aquarium where I volunteer decided to try something different to keep him warm and that was to make him his own neoprene wetsuit. Last Friday, Associated Press released an article about him and his wetsuit. I'm proud to share the article, videos and pictures here. Enjoy!

Click here for the link to article and pictures:

Here's the video, courtesy of YouTube:

Some Current Favorite Quotes

"Can I have one of those Chesterfields now?" Dennis Hopper to Christopher Walkin in the infamous "Sicilian" scene in "True Romance."

"It's not true I had nothing on, the radio was on." Marilyn Monroe.

"I've already told you want I want and if you ask me again, I'm going to scream! You keep asking me over and over what I want and I keep telling you and I'm tired of telling you, and, no, you can't ever, ever touch me. Do you hear me? You can't touch me!" a friend relaying a "conversation" she had on a date with a very wealthy man whom she didn't find attractive. She had this "conversation" outside a lovely restaurant in North Beach (a wonderful neighborhood here in SF).

"Okay, well tell Superman to iron his cape and get his super fanny over here, pronto." A co-worker talking to a vendor on the phone who screwed up a job.

"The crime you see now it's hard to even take its measure. It's not that I'm afraid of it. I always knew you had to be willing to die to even do this job. But I don't want to push my chips forward and go out and meet something I don't understand. A man would have to put his soul at hazard. He'd have to say, 'O.K., I'll be part of this world.'" Tommy Lee Jones' opening monologue in "No Country for Old Men."

And one from me:

Me: "What we need is a form on the system that everyone can fill out. An apology form. In Word format."

Nice Boss: "Oh, so you can just fill it out and email to someone here in this office? Fill in your name, date and what you're apologizing for?"

Me: "No, that's the beauty of it. You don't have to do anything. It's there for someone who feels they need an apology. They fill it out and email it to themselves."

Nice Boss: "Oh, I get it. Then they can send you a thank you email in response, right?"

Inner Life: All the Crap in Your Head that Weighs You Down

I'm suffering from a lack of confidence. Today I helped out on a project at work, jumped in at the last minute. It went down to the wire, but it got done. I did good work, caught a lot of errors and yet all I can think about tonight is how I screwed everything up because it took me a long time to complete the centerpiece of the project. Everyday at work I beat myself up because I take too long, I'm not learning fast enough. Sometimes I want to cry from the fear and frustration of it.

I read somewhere that you should think about whose voice you're hearing when you start verbally beating the crap out of yourself so tonight I asked myself who has been doing been doing all the trash talking in my head. The answer is a woman and a man from my old job who I believe were responsible for my being laid off. I can't say for sure, but I'm fairly certain their comments were a factor.

Now mind you no one has told me at work that they're having problems with my work, speed or otherwise. Folks who have been there a while assure me that if I'm truly screwing up they would tell me immediately. But then I think they're just being nice to me. I don't know.

Then I thought about what my true voice, my real self is saying to me right now while the other voices tell me what a piece of crap I am at my job. My real self is telling me it wants a cup of tea, and it wants a snack, oh and it wants to take the dog for a walk because it wants to go to bed soon. It also wants to stop listening to the others because it's gotten so tiring. As for the job thing, well, it's saying any cluster-fucks that happen can be corrected tomorrow, no problem.

It also wants to write (I haven't written hardly anything in over a month), it wants to get through my current Korean DVDs I have from Netflix, and it wants to go grocery shopping.

It wants to have fun and not be bogged down by all this shit. Maybe this is what they truly mean by having baggage.

Ugh.

City Life: The Space Man

1st guy: "You look like a space man in that white jacket."

2d guy: What?"
2d guy is an older gentleman I see sometimes on my street. He's wearing a white jacket and his hood is up.

1st guy: "I said you look like a space man in that jacket."
Said a bit louder, pronounced a little slower.

2d guy: "I wear this white jacket so the cars won't hit me."

1st guy: "You're definitely a spaceman. Do you float?"

2d guy (obviously a little confused): "What? I wear this jacket so the cars don't hit me. I DON'T LIKE to be hit by cars."
Says the part in all caps slowly, loudly.

1st guy: "You should try floating."

2d guy: "I have a bright pink jacket too. Everyone is so surprised when they see it, but I don't get hit by cars in it."

Overheard (and seen) on a crowded elevator at Forest Hill Station here in SF a couple of nights ago during the evening commute.

Recent Self-Portrait

Not one of my favorites, but I do like the angle. Plus my face is in focus. I was standing on my little ottoman and fell off it while doing taking this and several pictures like it. It's always tricky shooting straight into a narrow mirror like this one.

The Lost Stories: The Light That Never Goes Out

This is the second story written for a specific question. See my other post "Sleven Goes Home" to see how the process works. The question for this story was "How can I meet a guy who likes me and who will pay attention to me?" Although the main character in this story is a man, it's mostly about me and my shortcomings. There is a possibility that the main character's self-centeredness might be taken from a couple of guys I've known, but I can never be sure about that.

***
The man never knew what hit him. He’d spent most of his life in that state, but each time he was clueless. He still didn’t know. He wasn’t introspective at all, just focused on everything outside. He never realized he was making his own problems even when he clearly did stupid things to the detriment of himself and those around him.

One day a demon showed up in his bedroom just before dawn. The man woke and trembled in terror. The demon started to recite a list of his most grievous wrongdoings and explained to him that it was all to his making. He chose to ignore, he chose to be arrogant, he chose to allow himself to lose sight of his inner self and his inner workings. The man pledged to change if he demon wouldn’t hurt him. The demon refused. Instead, he tore the man from limb from limb and dropped off parts of his body to the people he had grievously wronged as payment for the wrongs done to them.

The man’s soul wandered in fear and pain and loneliness in a cold empty space. There was no one there to talk to, nothing but the hard cold ground and an all encompassing darkness. The demon left him with a single light, an eternal flame covered in a small hurricane lamp that would never go out as reward for offering to change.

“The offer to change is better than nothing,” the demon had said. The man called out to the darkness until he was hoarse. He realized he might spend the rest of eternity here if he didn’t think of what he must do next. A very long time passed and then the man found a single object on the hard ground as he wandered around. It was a compass. And it worked. The man thought for a long time about which direction to go. It was difficult to know in the pitch blackness, but while he was thinking about it, he noticed something in the lamp with the eternal flame that he hadn’t seen before. The top of the glass from the lamp could be removed. He carefully removed the glass and the eternal flame stood alone. He stared at it for a while and then turned around towards the compass. Immediately the flame flickered in the dark for the first time. He thought it was his own movements causing the flicker, but realized there was a slight breeze coming from somewhere. The man held the flame here and there and was able to figure out which direction the breeze was coming from: northeast. He carefully closed up the eternal flame in it’s glass covering then carefully setting the compass, the man started moving in the right direction.

***
This story is very simple and lord knows I've written about people (myself) being lost in a featureless dark place. The flame is clearly a throwback to the Lord of the Rings and the dark place is what I think of as Purgatory even though I'm not Catholic. The flickering of the flame is something I borrowed from spelunking as a method of finding your way through a cave system.

Did this story answer my original question about meeting a good guy? Yes and no. To me it means that finding a good guy is something secondary, there's a breeze to find, a compass to use and the flickering flame. Somehow those things transcend dating.

Pouring Rain, Fierce Winds

This past Sunday I had my swim lesson at Mission Bay. Mission Bay is the newer part of UCSF and it's quite the campus here in SF. It's not far from the Giants' ballpark. On Sundays the indoor pool is reserved for family swim classes so I have to swim in the outdoor pool on the roof. It's a beautiful view to be sure, but also freezing on certain days in the morning.

I sat in my car in the parking garage because I'd gotten there a little early. I heard the sound of the wind and looked out the window. I could see the wind blowing the rain at a diagonal. It seems both natural and counter-intuitive to be swimming in the rain. On one hand, you're already wet so what does it matter? On the other, you have to get out of the pool and walk the freezing few steps to the stairway leading down to the (warmer) locker room. Those few steps can be hard.

I told my swim instructor, who arrived wearing jeans, a baseball cap, black fleece jacket and large umbrella, that I never imagined I would be here swimming in the cold rain. He laughed and told me only hardcore people swim in the rain and I was one of them.

The majority of the lesson consisted of my instructor running back and forth in the pouring rain yelling "faster, FASTER!" as he put me through my paces with many drills. The lifeguard on duty was kind enough to lend him a huge waterproof lifeguard jacket, but he still got soaking wet. I asked him if he had to swim later, he nodded. He's taking a course or renewal of some kind so he had to swim about an hour after our lesson in the same pool.

As I swam as fast as I could back and forth I could feel the rain thumping me on the back. It was an odd feeling. It felt alien, but not wrong. I kept telling myself I was already wet. The wind started blowing the rain almost horizontal. It was affecting my ability to breathe as I turned my head because of the surface waves. I wasn't cold, my instructor made sure I kept my heart rate up. In fact he was kicking my ass. I was so winded after the last drill it was hard to take a breath as I slowly made my way down the stairway to the comfort of the women's locker room.

During the second to the last drill where I had to swim three laps without stopping I kept turning my head to breath and was sucking down water instead because of the waves. It scared me, as usual, but I had a different thought. Whenever something like that happens I always think something like "the pool is shallow enough so I can put my feet down if I need to" or "my swim instructor would never let me drown, neither would the lifeguard for that matter." This time I thought something different for the first time "This isn't that scary at all because I can swim and I'm going to keep swimming even when I'm swallowing water."

It's a new, marvelous place to be.

The Lost Stories: Sleven Goes Home

I keep writing stories about myself. They are short and meant to answer a particular question. The idea is you write down questions and put them in an envelope. Later (perhaps weeks later), you sit down, look up for a moment and write a very short story. After the story is done you pick an envelope to see how your story answered the question.

So far, all my stories are about people being lost (namely me). I like them a lot even if they are odd so I'm going to share one of them here.

Sleven Goes Home

Sleven was a strange girl who didn’t know her way home. When she was leaving school, the teachers had to point her in the right direction and tell her which street to turn left on. She always recognized the street and the house once she got there and she had no problems with directions to other places. The house was friendly on the outside, but forgetful on the inside. Forgetfulness reigned in that place. It was all she could do to get her homework done properly. Her parents were merely images in her mind of kind, happy people. In real life they were just vapors hanging in space. Sleven had made good use of this trying scenario. She kept the house clean and tidy and managed herself well. She was afraid of getting sick and having no one to help her so she worked hard at staying healthy and taking plenty of vitamin supplements.

Sleven was a favorite of her teachers, but not of her fellow students. No matter, she was used to managing on her own.

One day all this enforced isolation finally paid off when Sleven was mysteriously picked up by a group of rangers misplaced on her street. They told her they were from the “place far away, so far” and that they were there to take her home. She would have to endure isolation and be self-reliant, but after five years she would get her reward. Nervously she asked what that reward would be. The head ranger, Smith, told her it would the richest reward, especially for her loving heart.

“You will find everything will fall into place. I’m not saying it will become easier, far from it, but you will find your place in this world.”

Sleven was afraid and not sure if she trusted Smith or any of the other rangers, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“It will be difficult,” said a ranger named Tomorrow, “ and you will be lonely.”

“No matter,” said Sleven, “I’m ready for it. I’m ready for the coldest isolation and the most fiery trial by fire.”

The head ranger smiled. “I promise, you will come out the other side after five years of hardship, and you will come out smiling.”

Sleven accepted the small knapsack of supplies they gave her and then turned one last time to wave at the group of gruff but kind men. They waved back and she walked into the dark forest. She never saw the rangers again.

***

The question this story was meant to answer was whether I could have a good relationship with this guy I was enamored with at the time. The short answer, based on this story, is no. I won't do any further analysis here, but I've done a fair amount on my own. In a way the story is more important than the question. I just love some of the details here such as the forgetfulness inside the house and there are more than one of my own personal anxieties on display here.

I've written a total of three stories so far and I may share story number two. We'll see.

DVD Classes/Zero and Infinity

I bought a few courses from the Teaching Company. I know for many of you sitting on your couch and watching a professor talk at the podium on your DVD for 24 lectures (at 30 minutes a pop) is enough to set you running for the remote, but I think it sounds like great fun. I bought them as a Valentine's Day present for myself since I don't have a sweetheart for this most Hallmark of holidays.

Here's what I bought:

• The History of European Art
• Einstein's Relativity and the Quantum Revolution (I looove quantum physics!)
  
• Zero to Infinity: A History of Numbers
• Foundations of Western Civilization (from earliest civilizations to 1600)
• Museum Masterpieces: The Louvre
• Museum Masterpieces: The Met

Keep in mind 24 lectures is a short course. Foundations of Western Civilization is 48 lectures long. I can't wait for them to arrive at my doorstep. The Teaching Company folks also sent a web link to "Course Starter Materials" for your class. These course materials have an overview of the class, book recommendations and links to websites. Since I'm chomping at the bit, I've already done some reading and surfing around for my first class: Zero to Infinity: A History of Numbers.

***

As many of you know I'm terrible at math. I can barely figure out the tip for the restaurant meal. When I was much younger I read a book about mathematics which I didn't understand very well, BUT there was a half a chapter on the history of counting. This half chapter was so riveting and interesting to me I never wanted it to end, but rather than explore further I told myself I couldn't do math and left it alone. I can't WAIT to learn more about the history of counting in my DVD course.

As a seventh grader with an overactive imagination and an inability to do fractions, I figured out one morning in math class that the number line, that is negative numbers, zero, positive numbers both extending into infinity in both the negative and positive directions, is really not a line at all. Instead it's a massive oval because the numbers bend back on themselves. Everything always comes back to zero.

For the first time my very good math teacher had no idea what to say, and I couldn't readily explain why I thought this was so. She asked me for specifics. I couldn't give her any. I just knew everything comes back to zero. Then, somehow, I was able to explain why. My explanation was simple and made complete sense. Or so I thought, but my friends thought I was completely out of my mind and spent a good deal of time telling me so.

When I became an adult I completely forgot about this incident. Every once in a great while I would recall it, but I completely forgot why everything comes back to zero.

While reviewing the course starter materials for my DVD course, due on my doorstep any day now, I read a line about how when it comes down to it zero and infinity are very similar numbers.

A light went on (this happened about 30 minutes ago). It sputtered for a moment and then burned brightly. The reason why everything comes back to zero is because zero and infinity are mirror images of each other. Since negative and positive numbers are mirror images of each other so is zero and infinity. This is why the numbers bend back on each other.

Now I know you're thinking this is all well and good, but you're probably wondering if it's true. Can it be proven with an equation or series of equations? The answer is I have no idea. I don't know if it's true and I have no way of finding out. I'm hoping to get a clue on my DVD class, but if the professor doesn't mention this idea I'll send him an inquiring email when the class is over.

Huh. Too bad I can't do math. I have a feeling I would have really enjoyed playing with numbers and theories and things.

Sickle

I hear the clang of bronze and steel before he slips quickly into view. He is tall and thin, carrying ancient weapons. He regards me with suspicion and cold calculation. He raises the old sword to my throat. I do not move.

I feel a swoosh of feathers behind me, but still I don't move. The man looks up in shock as the seven foot Gryphon suddenly appears behind me and then plants his huge claws around the guy's neck. Mr. Gryphon crushes the man's armor like it's made of eggshells. The man falls to the ground, clutching his neck. Crimson is everywhere.

The old sword is on the ground and I reach down to pick it up. It's super heavy and sickle shaped, more ceremonial than practical even if the metal still has the marks from the ancient hammer that created it. I have to hold it with both hands even if it's not that large. The handle is made of bronze. I look at Mr. Gryphon.

"Where did he get this sword? It must be over 2,500 years old."

"He probably found it somewhere. It appears completely intact, but geographically it's traveled a long way." I hand the sword to Mr. Gryphon so he can carry it for me. We have only just arrived here and I took a wrong turn and had the misfortune of running into that now dead knight.
Mr. Gryphon and I are in Compiegne in Northern France the night before the state tournament starts. The year is 1272. For some reason I've wanted to come here just to see, or maybe it's because I've been thinking of Heath Ledger and that silly movie "A Knight's Tale" which I like very much, by the way. I am dressed in a nun's outfit having bought one from a kind sister just before we arrived in town. Mr. Gryphon is visible only when he needs to be which is lucky because that means when he's carrying the sword it will be invisible too.

The place is overrun with knights getting drunk and disorderly the night before the tournament. All around the perimeter of this town are hundreds of tents and camps. Wealthy knights hold forth in lavish tents and with their own entourages. Less wealthy country knights have set up simple camps. The smell of food, of overcooked meat, of ale, to sweaty bodies, of horses, burning wood fires and horse manure seeps into my bones. The sound of metal and weapons, horses neighing and men laughing fill the air. I hold a basket and no one pays me any attention. Men usually don't look at nun's faces.

Mr. Gryphon follows, walking regally and slowly. I am ambling to get a feel for the place. I pass a particularly lavish tent set up and run my hands over the fine, brightly colored silks. The edges are a little ratty, but otherwise the silk has held up well. We walk for quite some time then I head toward the square in the middle of town.

"Miss Turtle, this is not a very safe place," Mr. Gryphon says unnecessarily.

"I just want to look around a bit more." I adjust my wimple. The fabric is roughly dyed a dark color, but it's also scratchy and uncomfortable. I'm thankful it's a cool night.

"You got what you came for and we can come back tomorrow when the tournament starts," he says.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Mr. Gryphon?"

"We have to finish this post now so we can go get something to eat, in the real world," he says. He rarely mentions "the real world" to me. I stop and look at him and I realize he's right. I've had fun writing this post, but I did find what I was looking for. Time to stop.

As we prepare to exit a lone faded blue door appears hanging in space. Mr. Gryphon hands me the sword and opens the door for me. We pass through and manage to bring the sword and the nun's habit with us.

A Penguin Short

I'm back, finally. My phone works, my internet connection works. Thank goodness. I'm going to start with a couple short, but fun posts. I took this footage on my phone camcorder. Enjoy!

Another Penguin Short

I say in this video that Pierre is 24 years old, but he's going to be 25 this month.

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: