Or, yet another reason why I love my coworkers.
maisnon (to coworker with paperclip attached to neckline of sweater): Love the green paperclip!
Mikey: Yeah, well, that's what MacGyver would do.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Synchronicity
Every once in a while, you catch a wave: a daisy-chain of coincidences makes you smile, or just sit back and ponder. Are these little connections around us all the time? Is it that at different times we are more in tune and thus able to notice them? How much detail do we miss in our infernal busy-ness?
Yesterday, I had 400 pages to read and a 2 second attention span - not a good combination. The sky was the bluest blue, and the palm tree outside my office window swayed winsomely. I rationalized that Blackberrys exist for the sole purpose of allowing me to do my reading on my balcony instead of at my desk.
On my way home, I decided to finally stop by the library and figure out how to get a card. Imagine my surprise when the library clerk, noting my "odd" email address, decided to conduct the exchange in French. She lived in France for years, but has lived here long enough to make jokes about how common my first name is.
I haven't determined why, but San Francisco is the French-iest American town I know (and I'm including NYC and DC in the list.) At this point, I hear people speaking French every time I go out (examples: Saturday night in North Beach, Sunday night at sush in Mountain View (which is an even bigger WTF, I might add.) I'm excited by the idea that, as my French improves, I can practice it around town.
There's more here, but I've hit a wall. I am limited in what I am willing to blog about. There are things that I would discuss with individual friends willingly, but wouldn't bring up in front of the same friends if we were all out to dinner. That's the balance beam I'm on now - there are ideas that I am digesting (which would normally take place via conversation or writing) that I am uncomfortable blogging.
Suffice it to say, it's all about interconnectedness, and how when you have something in mind, little details jump out of the woodwork. A song on the radio. An email from an old friend. Right now, I feel like I am picking up the breadcrumbs, following the path out of the forest.
Yesterday, I had 400 pages to read and a 2 second attention span - not a good combination. The sky was the bluest blue, and the palm tree outside my office window swayed winsomely. I rationalized that Blackberrys exist for the sole purpose of allowing me to do my reading on my balcony instead of at my desk.
On my way home, I decided to finally stop by the library and figure out how to get a card. Imagine my surprise when the library clerk, noting my "odd" email address, decided to conduct the exchange in French. She lived in France for years, but has lived here long enough to make jokes about how common my first name is.
I haven't determined why, but San Francisco is the French-iest American town I know (and I'm including NYC and DC in the list.) At this point, I hear people speaking French every time I go out (examples: Saturday night in North Beach, Sunday night at sush in Mountain View (which is an even bigger WTF, I might add.) I'm excited by the idea that, as my French improves, I can practice it around town.
There's more here, but I've hit a wall. I am limited in what I am willing to blog about. There are things that I would discuss with individual friends willingly, but wouldn't bring up in front of the same friends if we were all out to dinner. That's the balance beam I'm on now - there are ideas that I am digesting (which would normally take place via conversation or writing) that I am uncomfortable blogging.
Suffice it to say, it's all about interconnectedness, and how when you have something in mind, little details jump out of the woodwork. A song on the radio. An email from an old friend. Right now, I feel like I am picking up the breadcrumbs, following the path out of the forest.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Playlist
- "Finally" - CeCe Peniston(drive to the city for ma classe de francais.)
- "Purple Rain" - Prince (threading my way to North Beach for dinner with ads, brimful, and oodles at Iluna Basque , prepared by its 25 year-old chef.)
- "Legend" - Bob Marley (an odd choice for The Steps of Rome - tiramisu and profiteroles with les filles.)
- "3 The Hard Way" - Bahamadia (drive back to the 'burbs)
- "Sweet Lorraine" - Chet Baker (dim sum with Paticus and husband)
- Mos Def, Talib Kweli, The Roots, Kanye West, Common, John Legend, The Fugees, Jill Scott, Erykah Badu, etc (Dave Chapelle's Block Party with Roop, followed by sushi and gelato.)
Sunday, March 12, 2006
55 Fiction Fridays: Better late than never edition
Friday looks a lot like Monday.
“Did you really want?” Beth Gibbons demanded plaintively, and she asked herself the same question. Looking at the half-eaten Chinese take-out, the glasses of cheap red wine leaving stains on her coffee table, she thought, yes, in fact, she had really wanted. But, Beth had moved on to other questions: “did anybody see the light?”
“Did you really want?” Beth Gibbons demanded plaintively, and she asked herself the same question. Looking at the half-eaten Chinese take-out, the glasses of cheap red wine leaving stains on her coffee table, she thought, yes, in fact, she had really wanted. But, Beth had moved on to other questions: “did anybody see the light?”
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
En français, s'il te plait
Favorite story from French class on Saturday: our professor had just explained what a chauffard (reckless driver) when another student asked if the feminine would be chauffarde? Our professor said yes, but you'd never say that. The student and the professor went back and forth about it again, and the professor said "Well, I mean, women are much better drivers than men - so you'd never use chauffarde." When we all started snickering, I had to explain that the American stereotype is that women can't drive. Frenchie said, 'Women are better drivers, in fact - in France, they have lower insurance rates." Of course, that is the same thing on this side of the pond. Because my best friend is Asian, I made sure to point out that the biggest driving stereotype is that Asian women can't drive. Who loves ya, Paticus?
So. How was the class? H.a.r.d. My processing of input was much more successful than my manufacturing of output. But, it's good for me - hopefully, I'll be back up to speed shortly. We are learning all kinds of idioms, and how to say things the vrai (true/real) French way, as opposed to the "French is my 2nd language" way. Kinda awesome.
After class, Misty and I went to the Marina! Imagine my surprise while taking in the sights on Chestnut St. - a Pita Pit? Wha?? In college, I lived one block away from the Pita Pit in my tiny, Canadian university town. From the PP website, that was the FIRST Pita Pit location, and now it is a franchise! For nostalgia's sake, I had to grab a pita. Not up to Kingston standards, I'm sorry to say.
After some dallying, it was time to hit the books! I went to Tartine in the Mission with images of their heavenly bread pudding dancing in my head. Helas, it was not to be - I had to make do with some divine chocolate pudding. Tartine closed at 8 pm, which I found so odd. San Francisco sets its curlers and turns in earlier than most cities.
It didn't really matter, I had plans to meet Roop, SJM, etc. etc. at the MatrixFillmore for P. Escobar's birthday. What a great space! A fireplace, great lighting, "interesting" drinks, lounge-style seating, an abnormally tall guy on the door. It became a little too crowded as the evening continued, and when I left the little area we had taken over, the crowd smacked of "I think I'm too hot to talk to you." Um, whatever. But when you bring the party with you, that doesn't really affect you. In short, I rolled into bed at 3:30 am.
Let's repeat that: 3:30 am. This is especially important since my first soccer game was scheduled for the next morning at 9 am. Which means being up and at'em at 8 am at the latest. I didn't set an alarm and I was up at 7:45 am. I have such a rockstar internal clock sometimes. Bleary-eyed, I checked my Blackberry - my player card wasn't ready, so I wouldn't be allowed to play. Thanggod - I curled up on the couch for Round 2 in the Land of Nod.
So. How was the class? H.a.r.d. My processing of input was much more successful than my manufacturing of output. But, it's good for me - hopefully, I'll be back up to speed shortly. We are learning all kinds of idioms, and how to say things the vrai (true/real) French way, as opposed to the "French is my 2nd language" way. Kinda awesome.
After class, Misty and I went to the Marina! Imagine my surprise while taking in the sights on Chestnut St. - a Pita Pit? Wha?? In college, I lived one block away from the Pita Pit in my tiny, Canadian university town. From the PP website, that was the FIRST Pita Pit location, and now it is a franchise! For nostalgia's sake, I had to grab a pita. Not up to Kingston standards, I'm sorry to say.
After some dallying, it was time to hit the books! I went to Tartine in the Mission with images of their heavenly bread pudding dancing in my head. Helas, it was not to be - I had to make do with some divine chocolate pudding. Tartine closed at 8 pm, which I found so odd. San Francisco sets its curlers and turns in earlier than most cities.
It didn't really matter, I had plans to meet Roop, SJM, etc. etc. at the MatrixFillmore for P. Escobar's birthday. What a great space! A fireplace, great lighting, "interesting" drinks, lounge-style seating, an abnormally tall guy on the door. It became a little too crowded as the evening continued, and when I left the little area we had taken over, the crowd smacked of "I think I'm too hot to talk to you." Um, whatever. But when you bring the party with you, that doesn't really affect you. In short, I rolled into bed at 3:30 am.
Let's repeat that: 3:30 am. This is especially important since my first soccer game was scheduled for the next morning at 9 am. Which means being up and at'em at 8 am at the latest. I didn't set an alarm and I was up at 7:45 am. I have such a rockstar internal clock sometimes. Bleary-eyed, I checked my Blackberry - my player card wasn't ready, so I wouldn't be allowed to play. Thanggod - I curled up on the couch for Round 2 in the Land of Nod.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Legal snark
When the judge quotes an Adam Sandler movie, you're pretty much screwed:
1 Or, in the words of the competition judge to Adam Sandler's title character in the movie, "Billy Madison," after Billy Madison has responded to a question with an answer that sounded reasonable but lacked any substance,
..........
The court cannot determine the substance, if any, of the Defendant's legal argument, nor can the court even ascertain the relief that the Defendant is requesting. The Defendant's motion is accordingly denied for being incomprehensible. 1
1 Or, in the words of the competition judge to Adam Sandler's title character in the movie, "Billy Madison," after Billy Madison has responded to a question with an answer that sounded reasonable but lacked any substance,
Mr. Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I've ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response was there anything that could even be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.
Deciphering motions like the one presented here wastes valuable chamber staff time, and invites this sort of footnote.
..........
In re Richard Willis King, United States Bankruptcy Court, Western District of Texas.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Wordplay
Paticus is a 6th grade English teacher and often shares her concerns about her students' writing with me. She was able to give me insights into how to get the kids I volunteer with to think more critically to improve their writing. In our last writing conversation, she asked me to distinguish between certain words. It seems her students have been overusing the thesaurus. Because we are wordgeeks, we delighted in dissecting and delineating between possible, plausible and feasible - so much so, in fact, that Paticus decided to turn it into an exercise for her kids. (If they ever meet me, they'll probably hate me.)
We had so much fun, I thought I'd share it with you - my fellow linguarati. Can you think of other examples? The future of our 6th-graders depends on you!
We had so much fun, I thought I'd share it with you - my fellow linguarati. Can you think of other examples? The future of our 6th-graders depends on you!
55 Fiction Friday: Frequent flyer edition
Friday dreams of tropical beaches:
She undid her seatbelt (lift UP on the metal flap), and felt that glimmer of excitement: gathering her carry-ons (items stowed in the overhead compartment may have shifted during flight), and leaving an airplane (remember, the closest exit may be behind you) for an unexplored destination. (Thank you for choosing United Airlines. Enjoy your stay.)
She undid her seatbelt (lift UP on the metal flap), and felt that glimmer of excitement: gathering her carry-ons (items stowed in the overhead compartment may have shifted during flight), and leaving an airplane (remember, the closest exit may be behind you) for an unexplored destination. (Thank you for choosing United Airlines. Enjoy your stay.)
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Mariposa
The comfort zone of shared experience can hypnotize you into having epiphanies. My most recent flippant comment while talking to Paticus: because I'm happy in so many facets of my life, my insecurities and fears are bubbling up to the surface.
If I were in therapy, I'd say that I'm doing deeper work, getting beyond day-to-day existence. I'm uncomfortable right now - I'm revisiting past negativity that I thought I had left behind. But, I also feel oddly hopeful. I'm calling this my "chrysalis" phase - I am building a little coccoon around myself - a little distance from friends, less socializing, more me-time. I need time to pupate and examine what I value, what I want, whether I'm being true to myself and what may be lacking.
If I were in therapy, I'd say that I'm doing deeper work, getting beyond day-to-day existence. I'm uncomfortable right now - I'm revisiting past negativity that I thought I had left behind. But, I also feel oddly hopeful. I'm calling this my "chrysalis" phase - I am building a little coccoon around myself - a little distance from friends, less socializing, more me-time. I need time to pupate and examine what I value, what I want, whether I'm being true to myself and what may be lacking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
