Alas, poor Pluto

Alas, poor Pluto! I knew him a planet: a fellow
of infinite path, of most excellent orbit: he hath
flown him round the earth a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in Nasa's imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those moons that I have ogled I know
not how oft. Where be your Charons now? your
Nixs? your Hydras? your flashes of astrology,
that were wont to set the hippies on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own spinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to milky way's chamber, and tell him that
we paint a fine line, to this favour he must
come; make him a dwarf at that.

If you're not catching on...read this.
And for facts about pluto, I went here.

Dormant

My mom noticed the two month hiatus from the last post and asked me about it. I doubt very many other people are reading this besides my parents, but I think it polite to inform you that this blog is basically taking a note from Haleakala and lying dormant for a bit. I think the time for blogging may have passed, and it is due time to get back to other writing endeavors; plus most of the real updates about my life are too personal to post.

In other words, this blog's initial purpose as a forum for mass-updating has passed. If it speaks to me of another purpose that inspires me to update regularly, well then, it will stay. If it loses its appeal altogether, it will go. For now, I can only advise you to expect no more than the occasional anecdotal update like the one below. If you really miss having a blog in your life...maybe start your own? (~_~)

Seats, Walks, and Books

I had an illuminating experience today. Upon catching the train to head to work, a young man with Down's Syndrome immediately offered me his seat. I said "oh no, thank you though, please -- stay," thinking to myself, you have D.S., you should keep the seat. I had to laugh when he said, "but you're so tall, you should take the seat." Well met, my friend. I wouldn't have called my physical characteristics a disability either!

An organization in our office building apparently works with all kind of special needs children and adults, as there are many mornings in the week where the lobby will be full of these people as they await buses for a field trip. At first I was nervous -- am I staring? I am not looking enough? Should I smile or is that patronizing? -- but I've since learned that such second-guessing is not necessary. I treat them like anyone else I walk past, a smile if I make eye-contact, but for the most part being non-intrusive. I can't say that I've gotten to the point where I don't think about it when I walk in; I believe that's also because I relish the exposure. There are so many different walks of life that can give one's one life perspective, and daily reminders of perspective certainly don't do any harm.

In that vein, since as far as I know none of you work in my office building, I can recommend a few good books if you're looking for this particular kind of perspective.

1) Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck, a true story about a woman expecting a child with D.S. and the fantastic occurrences that herald his birth (and continue even after he's born). My aunt and mom clued me into this book -- it touched us all.

2) The Memory Keeper's Daughter, by Kim Edwards, which charts the consequences in a family unit when the father secretly chooses to give away a twin born with D.S. while keeping the other. (This happens in the beginning -- I am not spoiling anything, don't worry.)

If you read either of them, please let me know what you think -- and be sure to pass them along to friends and coworkers, or whoever else might be in your book network. These books have a lot to say and need to be heard!

lots of activity

This weekend S and I had a going away/birthday party. It was fun. We played ring toss again. The drinks were somehow slightly less disgusting than last time. For those of you I may not have indoctrinated yet, ring toss consists of putting the entirety of your liquor collection out, along with a few gross bonuses like vinegar or cooking wine or lemon juice -- and then tossing homemade aluminum foil rings until you land on three, which you then must drink in a shot. Since it's only a shot, you don't get drunk; mostly it's a gross out game. Also -- L made me a pear ginger upside down cake, not remembering that I don't like pears. Fortunately for everyone involved, the pears she'd selected where mild in both pear flavor and pear texture, and it turned out to be delicious. I ate it for breakfast the next couple days. :)

I think I have told most everybody that I am moving to a new apartment. We moved a bunch of stuff and found some furniture and planned some more. It was good. I think we might actually be ready to move in this weekend.

Yesterday morning I threw out my back. I have gotten twinges and soreness before, but this was quite demobilizing -- twin sneezes and suddenly tilting forward or backward causes intense pain. I have never had anything quite like this happen, especially without a known cause -- moving furniture, or playing a lot of volleyball, or whatever. The heating pad and I are once again sharing quality time together.

Oh yeah -- my birthday rocked. I had the actual day off from work, so S brought me up to Napa on Wednesday afternoon where we stayed at an adorable homey B&B, walked around, ate the yuppiest of cuisines, and went wine tasting. We each tried five at one place, split two flights (six total) at another, tried 8 at another automated place where you create a little debit card that you can stick into a machine which then pours 1 oz of whichever wine you choose, with each one pro-rated according to its overall cost, and then I had a glass with dinner. That's 20 -- count 'em -- different wines in one night. The highlight was the first place, which had great picks, and the automated place, which allowed you taste a couple $100 bottles. We tried one at $8.30 for one ounce -- it was a dark, luxurious cabernet. I quickly learned that one way to tell the difference between a bargain basement wine and an expensive wine is that first smell -- cheap wines just smell medicinal (one even smelled like bug spray!), while expensive wines smell like a pantry, or a basket of vegetables, or a freshly planted earthy field. In other words, they don't smell like alcohol, they smell like other smells. It's not a far leap to see how this contributes to their flavor. I also learned that the proper time to decant a wine is a couple hours before you intend to serve it. Cool.

On the way home, we were passing by a six flags and though, why not? It turned out to be a great day for it. Being a week day and still early enough in summer not to be too inundated by families, the lines were fairly short and the crowds were manageable. We rode some great coasters, ate some greasy grub and dippin' dots (which are always an interesting taste sensation) and spent about 5 or so hours being, well, amused. They also had a sea world there and we ended up catching a show in which a dolphin and an orca swam around and showed off -- together. That was a first, and pretty fun to watch.

It's been a great last few days and a wonderful birthday. We're smack dab in the middle of a huge transition, but everything's going smoothly. In a few weeks time, we'll be starting a whole new phase of life.

Which reminds me, I signed up for the GRE in August. It's about time to start planning ahead.

Warning: extreme cuteness content below

This one HAD to get a mention on my blog. It is just too cute. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I would post it here but photographer has set it up so you can't capture her pics. The Cat's Jungle pictures of animals are awesome -- she's a regular at the San Francisco Zoo. But it's her otter set that has totally captivated me. They are so photogenic and adorable. I believe that's why this photoshopped pic rings so true. :)

Oh my goodness, it's nearly unbearable...the further along you go in the set, the cuter they are.


See? Otter cuteness even makes the otters squeal!
(This is from a different photographer all together...I'm just illustrating.)

House Finch

That lovely bird in my profile photo is a house finch. I found Larry Hamrin's photo collection on Flickr; he is a talented photographer of all manner of birds, and was willing to share this photo for the sake of a pun on my last name.

Larry if you see this -- thanks again!

Changes afoot

Most of you know by now...

Steve is moving (states, possibly even countries).
I am moving (neighborhoods).
Life is moving along.

Eh-adventures indeed!

We are having a going-away party on the 17th of June -- if you would like to go, email me. (Or leave a comment.)

Hurrah!

Record breaking month for organ donation

In the month of May, 2006 the nation saw 733 donors in a single month. This is the first time the nation has seen the 700 donor mark...

Consider this:
The first time we reached the 400 donor/month benchmark was July, 1990.
The first time we reached the 500 donor/month benchmark was April, 1998 (~8 years later).
The first time we reached the 600 donor/month benchmark was May, 2004 (~6 years later).
The first time we reached the 700 donor/month benchmark was May, 2006 (~2 years later).

800 donors per month -- here we come!

Top O' The Bottom

My coed volleyball team played in our league playoffs last night and won!
'Cept what we won was the "silver pool" of our league. The league manager splits each league into two based on their season record; the top 6 or so teams play for the "gold" title and the bottom five teams or so play for the "silver" title.

So we won the silver, which means we're top of the bottom.

Got a clever way to say it? Stuff I've thought of:

Best of the Worst
Champions, Lite!
Halfway Fabulous
Champions, Jr.
Masters of the Molehill

I welcome further teasing!

Arthur Jackson

The modern day Patron Saint of San Francisco died yesterday morning: Arthur Jackson.

I knew him as the hands-on owner of Jackon Personnel, a temp agency in the city specializing in non-profit jobs. I walked into his office one day last March and had a month long non-profit temp job the very next day. This is also the man who, when that ended, placed me here at the donor network. The man who found me some permanence in a city known for its high cost and instability. He handled everything in that agency; I have no idea what will happen to it now.

In my short time getting to know him, I learned that he was a kidney recipient, the former Public Health Commissioner in San Francisco, and more recently appointed to the Commission on Homelessness -- he even brought me to one of the meetings as a public member, so I could learn more about the city perspective on homelessness. His agency was the donor network's source for administrative assistants; in fact, we only went to him. I sent five of my friends to him for jobs, with my full recommendation for his abilities.

Because he was such a public figure, so involved and so vocal, I figure the best way to eulogize him would be to do a search for him on the San Francisco Chronicle's site. Here's some of what I found, which paints a picture of the man he was:

"Arthur Jackson, a dynamo in local government and business, got a phone call Tuesday afternoon: ``Mr. Jackson, have we got a kidney for you!'' Jackson has been on dialysis for six years, waiting, a dynamo cut to half power by a funky organ. Yesterday, he got his kidney. Arthur runs Jackson Personnel Agency and has been commissioner of the Public Health Dept. and the Commission on Aging. This is your man if you're looking for someone who gives his heart to the city. So Arthur getting a kidney seems like a fair trade." 1/13/00, Scott Osler

"Among the impressive new candidates [...and...] likely to provide clear, fresh thinking at City Hall are Casey, a business consultant, and Jackson, an employment agency owner. They both display the energy and inclination to demand government accountability. For a board with fortitude and balance, we recommend Kaufman, Katz, Yaki, Marquez, Casey and Jackson." Editorial, 10/25/96, re: Board of Supervisors election

"For Arthur Jackson of San Francisco, ``helping out'' was something he observed growing up in his Chicago neighborhood. ``Maybe there wasn't anybody to borrow money from, but if someone got sick, everyone cooked something and brought it over,'' said Jackson, who has volunteered most of his adult life, helping seniors and youths and working on public health issues." 9/13/99, Thomas Ruppaner

"[Mayor Willie] Brown spoke about Arthur Jackson, a member of the city's Commission on Aging who finally received a kidney transplant after waiting four years for a new organ. ``He had spent full time over the past four years wondering if his life would be snuffed out,'' said Brown. ``Finally, just about four months ago, Arthur got the kidney. I had the great pleasure this past week to swear Arthur in for another term on the commission. He looks totally and dramatically different.''" 4/17/00, Jonathan Curiel

"If you need a job done right, you give it to Arthur Jackson, businessman and community activist, and imagine what Arthur could do if he didn't spend half his waking hours hooked up to a dialysis machine. Tomorrow afternoon, Arthur will be sworn in by Willie Brown to serve on the city's Commission on Aging. It's one item on Jackson's list titled ``Things to do while waiting for a new kidney.''" 1/20/99, Scott Osler

"Arthur Jackson, who serves on the Commission on Aging, wanted more money for senior services. He said at least $2 million is needed - for meal programs, legal advocacy, housing support and transit, among other services. He and other senior activists said waiting lists for food programs include many elderly. "We must have a zero tolerance for hungry seniors," Jackson said." 6/20/99, Rachel Gordon

"Arthur Jackson, local business and political figure, is a compassionate champion of the underdog. It's his life. But recently Arthur has been haunted by the memory of a kid from his high school. ``Ronnie Gebron,'' Jackson says. ``He was fat, had red hair and freckles and wore glasses. That's the grand slam of nerdiness, isn't it? We were never kind to him in four years. He must have been angry.'' Arthur was a high school jock, a soccer star. The scariest thing he and his pals could imagine was to be seen being nice to a Ronnie Gebron. And sweet Jesus, what if Ronnie somehow showed up at a party? ``Why was I like that?'' Jackson says. ``I wasn't brought up that way. And it was a Quaker school. But they never once told us, `You've got to be nice.' We have to teach that.''" 5/19/99, Scott Osler

Queen Anne's Lace

Steve has a friend, Anne. Anne has a husband, Alex. Alex and Anne moved to Laos about a year ago. Anne posts about it on occasion.

Anne's writing is complex and playful. Her latest post is gorgeous. An exploration of hell, physical, personal, religious, ending at the crossroads.

I am always impressed by Anne's writing, but this time I liked this post so much I had to share it with you.

Does it come as a surprise to you that Anne worked at a company that published children's books while she was here? Probably not. (~_~)

Complex instincts and Simple thought

A very interesting article about how best to employ your conscious and subsconscious minds...

Want to make a complicated decision? Just stop thinking
·Tough problems 'best left to the unconscious mind'·
Psychologist questions merit of serious thought
Alok Jha, science correspondent
Friday February 17, 2006The Guardian

Here's a suggestion for the next time you need to make a complicated decision: stop thinking. According to a new study, thinking too hard about a problem leads to poor choices - difficult decisions are best handled by our unconscious minds. While most people are happy to buy a new set of towels without much thought, they are unlikely to buy a new car or house without some serious thought. But Ap Dijksterhuis, a psychologist at the University of Amsterdam, argues that we might be getting these methods of decision-making the wrong way around.
He asked volunteers to pick their favourite car from a list of four based on a set of four attributes including fuel consumption and passenger leg room. He gave them four minutes to think about their decision and most people chose the car with the most plus points. When Dr Dijksterhuis made the experiment more complex - 12 attributes rather than four - people could only identify the best car a quarter of the time. This result was no better than choosing at random.
However, when the researchers distracted the participants after showing them the cars (by giving them puzzles to do before asking participants to make their choices), more than half picked the best car. "Conscious thinkers were better able to make the best choice among simple products, whereas unconscious thinkers were better able to make the best choice among complex products," wrote Dr Dijksterhuis in a paper, published today in Science.
The problem with thinking about things consciously is that you can only focus on a few things at once. In the face of a complex decision this can lead to giving certain factors undue importance. Thinking about something several times is also likely to produce slightly different evaluations, highlighting inconsistencies.
"Participants who chose their favourite poster among a set of five after thorough contemplation showed less post-choice satisfaction than participants who only looked at them briefly," said Dr Dijksterhuis.
He added that unconscious thinking does not seem to suffer the capacity limit: "It has been shown that during unconscious thought large amounts of information can be integrated into a evaluative summary judgment."
Jonathan Schooler of the University of British Columbia in Vancouver told Science that, while the new study builds on evidence that too much reflection is detrimental in some situations, he is not yet ready to dispense with conscious thought when it comes to complex decisions. "What I think may be really critical is to engage in [conscious] reflection but not make a decision right away," he said.
Dr Dijksterhuis said that when an important decision comes up he gathers together the relevant facts and gives it all of his attention at first. Then, he told Science: "I sit on things and rely on my gut."

Beethoven's 5th Drilling

The DDS that I go to offers you headphones and a discman with an assortment of cds to listen to during his procedure. Yesterday I selected disc 2 of "Favorite Beethoven" because it has Fur Elise on it, and I figured that would be soothing. And it was. Today I figured I'd stick with the theme and listened to disc 1.

I am fully convinced that there is no more appropriate song to be listening to while awaiting the dentist's drill than Beethoven's 5th Symphony. You know, the one that goes:

dunh dunh dunh DUNH!!
dunh dunh dunh DUNH!!

The one that exemplifies tension and trauma and anxiety all comingled together and resulting in constant explosions with resounding silence...and then starts all over again.
Not that this is what the dentist is actually like. Just that this is what *waiting* for the dentist to *drill* is like.

Last night at about 9:30pm the pain in my jaw and teeth on the right side finally ebbed away, and they have been fine ever since. Now that the anesthetic is wearing off on my left side, I could use a little Moonlight Sonata until about 9:30pm.

I'm going to rush off to my amazon wish list and put Favorite Beethoven on it right now! Any self-respecting "Elise" should own it anyway.

Toodles!

Chompers

For the first time in maybe 4? 5? years I went to get my teeth tortured today.

Okay, so tortured is a bit much. More like mildly irritated. But it didn't tickle!

Got three fillings replaced and a deep cleaning...on just the right side of my mouth.

Left side goes tomorrow -- but just one filling and a deep cleaning.

I am feeling pretty sorry for myself right now -- the anesthetic has worn off and I'm achey by way of both jaw and tension headache -- but I'm glad it's finally done. Both Mom and I have been trying to guilt myself to go for ages. ;-)

In two weeks, this will be but a distant memory as I relax on the shores of HAWAII. Woot!

And a happy belated Valentines day to you all, too.

The Second LIVING HEART DONOR I've ever heard of!

From http://abcnews.go.com/Health/story?id=1569963:

Feb. 2, 2006 — Two babies made medical history earlier this month after they successfully underwent an extremely rare procedure known as domino heart transplant surgery, according to Columbus Children's Hospital in Ohio.
Five-month-old Jason Wolfe, born with primary pulmonary hypertension, needed a new set of lungs. Because of his condition, his doctors knew a lung transplant would work better if he also received a new heart at the same time.
And that meant that his heart, which was otherwise healthy, could be donated to another baby — and that's precisely what was done on Jan. 14 during a 12-hour surgery in which Jason received a new heart and lungs from a deceased donor, and Jason's heart was transplanted into Kayla Richardson, a three-month-old baby born with a single ventricle in her heart.
According to the hospital, the procedure was historic because it was the first time domino heart transplant surgery had been performed on patients so young anywhere in the world, making Jason the youngest living heart donor and Kayla the youngest recipient.
There have only been 12 infant heart-lung transplants performed in the United States, because timing and tissue matching can be tricky.
"It really is a quite rare event because everything has to fall into place," said Dr. Tim Hoffman, director of the heart transplant program at the hospital.
Saving Two Lives at Once
Though rarely performed, this type of procedure helps save two lives at one time.
"Without the use of this domino transplant, most likely Kayla wouldn't have had the opportunity to get a transplant and most likely would not have survived," said Dr. Todd Astor, medical director of the lung and heart-lung transplant program at the hospital.
So far, everything seems OK with the babies. The rarity of the procedure makes their long-term prognosis hard to predict.
"At this point, we're just so excited that he even has a future, that whatever future he has we'll just cherish every day," said Mike Wolfe, Jason's father.
No matter what happens now, the two families feel inextricably linked as well.
"I'm close to Kayla because she's my daughter. But I also feel close to Jason because it feels like we're connected now," said Rebecca Lovins, Kayla's mother.

The Significance of February 15th

It is now February. You know what that means.
My mom's Birthday on the 19th? Yes.
Valentine's day on the 14th? Yes.
Black History month? Yes.

But you know what else it means -- the annual renewal that alters lives, affects relationships, and changes the course of the entire universe as we know it?

The day after Valentine's day is the day that the drug stores put out their Easter candy.

This means Cadbury Mini Eggs and Cream Eggs.

In 15 days people. 15.

Prepare.

Wedding Crasher pummeled by Angels in America

After hearing so many glowing accounts of it, my friends and I rented the Wedding Crasher last night. So lame. So incredibly lame. The first 20 minute montage was funny, and then the movie derails, and becomes tired Frat Pack schtick.

The movie makes one despise men and women alike -- more so because the men and women in the movie are such incredible stereotypes of men and women. Women are either glowing adorable angels, or psychotic. Men are either effete, pathological artists, or uber-competitive shallow pranksters. These stereotypes can be used to great effect when presented in a tongue in cheek or satirical manner. This movie doesn't have that kind of self-awareness. It just has its improbable scenarios and the supposed charisma of the actors to rely on, and that collapses as soon as the premise is introduced and illustrated.

Lastly -- every bride and groom I know pour over the guest lists for their wedding, agonizing about who they're inviting (and not inviting), who to seat where, and how to pay for it all. Two guys suddenly showing up claiming to be distant relatives would be zeroed out and caught so quickly that this movie's premise is incredible to begin with -- NOT CREDIBLE. Not credible in a sci-fi or fantasy movie is one thing. Not credible in a romantic comedy is another. Failure. Don't rent it!

Ugh.

So to redeem my wasted afternoon and convince my eyeballs to trust me enough to guide their use ever again, I put in Angels in America, the 6 part HBO fictional series based on a broadway play documenting the early years of the AIDS epidemic. And redemption it was. The series is so beautiful -- it handles terror and belief with a masterful hand -- its writing is superb -- its subject weighty without being too heavy handed -- and every single actor/actress is absolutely compelling and realer than real. I only watched 4 of the 6 chapters but I was awe-struck with the thoughtfulness and care committed to the topic. There are themes that are noticeable and yet still subtle -- like having one actor play several roles to draw a subtle similarity between the roles -- such as Emma Thompson, who plays a nurse, an angel, and a homeless psychotic (all of the emissaries with weighty messages); or Meryl Streep who plays a Mormon mother, a pedantic Rabbi, and the ghost of Ethyl Rosenberg (all of them strong moral compasses in the movie).

If you can get past some of the vivid physical decay and destruction portrayed by those who have AIDS, you will see such a beautiful series with a powerful message...personally, I have yet to finish it but I already feel 'spoken' to.

In non-indoor news, this weekend we went for a walk in Golden Gate Park -- meandered through the botanical gardens, which were fun and relaxing -- and saw what I believe was a Red-Shouldered Hawk. They're common to forests in Florida and California though uncommon elsewhere, and this one's pine-tree perch and distinctive set of white bands across its tail led me to identify it. I've had a surprising amount of raptor luck since I've moved out here -- could it be the pigeons? (~_i)

1 W-2

I received my W-2 for 2005 today. Why is that significant?

Because this marks the first year in 5 years where I only have one -- where I only worked for one organization all year.

In 2004, I worked for 3; in 2003, I worked for 3; in 2002, I worked for 2; in 2001 I worked for 2; in 2000 I worked for 2; 1999 is the last time I worked for 1...

...ahh, 1999. That was a landmark year in job history too. That was the first year where I left my summer job at the bakery when my junior year in college started, but came back to work there over Christmas break (the landmark part being that it was the first time in the history of my summer employment that I bothered to come back!). I loved that job. It was high stress, early mornings, and full of big egos -- egos that it seemed I was captain at soothing and amongst whom it seemed only I could negotiate, short of the owner's edict. It was mayhem and madness and anal retention and hilarity and endless inside jokes that come from being in a confined space together doing something tedious for too long. And I had a crush on two of the people who worked there. It was great.

So this year I'm going to do my taxes like it's 1999, but tonight I'm going to raise a toast to the bakery (terrible pun -- get it?) with a glass of hard-earned wine.

Hoorah!