temblor

I was parked on the couch, reading something. I reached for a glass of water on the coffeetable and the windows started rattling. This isn't an unusual occurrence in my apartment, but my cat had "the look" .. and then the rattling lasted for too long. Earthquake, people. A minor one, but still. It basically feels like a REALLY big truck driving past your house, all rumbly. I put my hand on the wall to feel it and it was over.

I immediately IMd a friend, and .... twittered it. Then, I tried to find info on the quake. Nothing. I finally found the USGS site, which has a "Did you Feel It?" survey page. Tres cool! Apparently, the quake was a 4.0 centered in the East Bay. The survey page asks you a number of questions about where you were, what you felt, what you noticed, etc. When you submit your information, it gives you your rating of the magnitude of the quake in your 'hood, and what the USGS is rating it for your zipcode.

I can only feel this way because it was such a minor event, but, HOLYSHITTHATWASCOOL! It was a little jolt of excitement, a reminder that I live in an active area, that the world is bigger and more complex than you can imagine, and that things can change on a dime.

Fame!

At my law school, there was one guy who was considered the most arrogant, and the most grating (and in a law school setting, that is really saying something.) He was a year ahead of me, and was part of the Law Review Board that welcomed me when I got onto law review. Well, the others welcomed me. What he had to say was essentially, "You are all just candidate members of the law review. The emphasis is on the word candidate - we're not afraid to say 'buh-bye'!" Then, he went into a moving speech about how much work it was going to be, and how we were going to have to prove our worth before we could move from being candidate members to the superexalted position of MEMBERS. I started calling him Debbie Allen behind his back because he reminded me of Debbie Allen in the opening to the television show "Fame!" The show was about the N.Y. School for the Performing Arts. In the opening sequence, Debbie Allen pounds a cane into the dance room floor and tells her students "You want fame? It starts right here!"

As I continued to work with 'Debbie Allen', I came to see just how annoying he could be. And that, somehow, I got along with him just fine. Finally, one day he was trying to give me shit about something, and I said to him, "Okay, fine .... DEBBIE ALLEN!"

There was a moment or two of open-mouthed silence as he looked at me. He finally said, "... are you calling me ..... BLACK?!?!?!"

Yes, because there's no question as to why, in the tens of millions of African Americans (let alone actual Africans), I chose a woman. Or someone who is most easily identified and associated with dance. Awesome.

So, here it is: the first episode of the show "Fame!" Check out that 80s wear!!

sing . song . sung

The one thing I promised myself when I was laid-off from my stereotypically dot.com-era startup in 2003 was that I would never again make the mistake of populating my friendship circle exclusively with work peeps. I wouldn't say I made that mistake again, exactly, rather that it was unavoidable. With the hours I worked, and the unpredictability of my schedule, work peeps were the only people who understood, respected, and were willing to flex around my work schedule.

And now, I am revisiting some of the friendship-based heartache of 2003. On a logical level, I can be dispassionate about it: we all have lives, and priorities, etc. Not hearing from someone with whom you were once on a daily/hourly contact basis is just what happens when you're not in physical proximity anymore. But, emotionally, "out of sight, out of mind" stings.

I have wonderful, wonderful people in my life. And yet, I'm mourning my losses a little. I don't blame anyone, not even myself, for once. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to continually replace people in the circle as we outgrow our friendship, move, settle down, etc. So much effort. It's the friendship equivalent of kissing a lot of frogs. Realistically, that's probably how it is for a lot of people, but right now it smarts. I feel like I'm revisiting lessons and ideas I thought I had learned.

I locked you out/you cut a hole in the wall

Conversation with a former coworker. Joe and I worked together circa 2000

Joe: Do you know this person? harish.majithiya

me: um, no

I assume you thought i might b/c he's indian

Joe: mmm. He wants to Chat with me???

Well....

yes

me: i don't

me: but agree to chat with him

and ask if he knows me :D

Joe: lol

Joe: oh, you think you're so funny!
me: some things never change!

labo(u)r day

Labor Day - view from the roof, originally uploaded by maisnon.

Weekend update, y'all!

And, it's a LOOONG one! (Yes, my lame sense of humour knows no shame!)

Let's just hit the Labo(u)r Day BBQ. So, I'm not working. You wouldn't think a three day weekend would mean much to me, but ... it was really nice having my (working) friends around for an extra day It DID feel different, although it shouldn't.

I went to a party on a rooftop (at Cesar Chaves + Valencia), and that's the view you see here. The weather, to start, was absolutely perfect. And then ... it became a blustery day, Pooh. We had to fold down and remove the patio umbrella because there was a serious risk that it would make like Mary Poppins and fly away.

I got to hang out with a friend's fiance (he just moved to town), and a *very* recent transplant from DC (like, it was his first actual day in SF.) Listening to them talk about the things they left behind, and the things they are searching for here made me wonder about when we switch our "homes." When do you stop thinking of the last place you lived in as "home"? Is it when you open your front door and realize you can't remember the last 15 minutes? Is it when you think of something you want and you know just where to get it?

Finally, the blusteriness got the best of us, and we retreated in search of more friendly eats. (BBQs are notoriously harsh on the veg, pseudo-veg, and pescetarians.) We ended up at Beretta. Super-peppery arugula salad (food of liberals!), wine-stained risotto, and a pizza burrata. Delicious and totally all-American.

book covers

I'm fascinated by David Drummond's Covers blog. Each post is a book cover Drummond designed, usually along with a few outtakes, and a brief explanation of the interaction between the design and the book. The blog appeals to me because I love books (of course!) and also because I've been indulging my interest in design.

Enjoy.

rush for the change of atmosphere

I thought I would have this rush of energy and action after I quite my job. I mean, this wasn't a decision that snuck on me. I went through many phases, including what I called the "if I learned how to ski, I could be a ski instructor" phase. (Translation for those who don't me: absolutely, friggin' flailing about what I wanted to do next. Considering leaving The Law. Because, seriously, it takes more than a basic understanding of how to ski to become a ski instructor!) I thought that by committing to not doing this anymore, the "what happens next" would flow.

That was definitely my experience the last time I quit my job. Way back in 2000, I quit my job and within a week I had .... pruned the friendship tree, stopped seeing the guy I wasn't see anyway, acquired the beautiful Ms. Gia, and ... decided to take the LSATs and apply to law school. (And that decision definitely snuck up on me.) It was all just the most natural thing in the world - each of those thoughts and actions came to me so seamlessly - like bubbles rising to the surface of water.

So, I quit and I waited for the wave. And ... I'm still waiting. I have a good sense of what I want to do, but it seems, no "get up and go" to get it done anytime soon. And, I have to accept where I am. I've often found myself to be very objective-driven, and respecting the process often galls me. Thankfully, I'm old enough now to find my patterns and predilections amusing more than anything else. And right now, in this exact moment, I have to respect that I still have some processing, clearing, synthesizing, other action verb-ing to do before I'm ready to launch in another direction. I am the field lying fallow.

finale

And it's done. I just quit my job. Without another lilypad to jump to.

I'm excited and, how you say, shit-scared.

Cue the fireworks.

vignette

We somehow found ourselves away from the party, sitting on the floor under the dining table. Sitting on the floor, a jumble of knees and long legs, the three of us reminded me of girls - sneaking away from the adults to sip purloined wine and giggle over the grown-ups inscrutable interactions. On the bookcase near us, N spotted a section of books about trees and asked me to grab one. She flipped through it animatedly, offering commentary on some local flora. Then, she slammed it closed. Resting her hand upon its cover, she said, 'Okay, 5 favorite trees. GO!'

And in that moment, I loved her. And I loved the situation. I loved being holed up under the dining table, sneaking an arm up to grab goat-cheese stuffed dates. I loved N's intensity and sincerity in asking us (fellow 30-somethings) for our 5 favorite trees. It was this beautiful, incandescent moment of unexpected childhood.

.........

For the record, the 5 trees I chose off the top of my head were:

(1) Russian Olive - I love the contrast of the coloring between leaves and bark
(2) Gingko - it's a living fossil, yo!
(3) Eucalyptus - love the way it smells, even though it is bad if planted in areas where it is non-native
(4) Madrona
(5) The trees that make helicopters. And, yes, having taken botany in CANADA, I should have been able to remember that the trees that make helicopters are MAPLES.

Makeout King

I loved this, and I hope you will too. (H/T Crooks and Liars.)