I finally broke down and mimiced part of Jack's blog -- the "Current Terror Alert Level" as designated by Sesame Street Characters (see side bar -- Thanks Jack!). If we hit Elmo, run for your lives. But if you see Oscar the Grouch (oddly enough), we have at last achieved world peace.
(~_-) -- Oh by the way, MERRY CHRISTMAS!! My Christmas this year was more satisfying than I've known in some time -- I think that has a lot to do with money being a bit more precious now that I'm on my own, plus coming home after a long time of being away. Things that were tired and tedious last year are fresh and exciting this year, and I at last have some frivolous shopping ahead of me without the impending doom of rent impinging on the fun (gift certificates are the best!!). The only thing that didn't quite add up was my family's team losing this year's tundra bowl* by 3 whole touchdowns...We're gunning for you next year, Team Hawvermale!!
Saturday, December 27, 2003
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
On the sidebar to the right is a new link -- "Elise Groo in Serbia." This is not some weird reference to myself -- this is in fact the Elise that I worked with at Jack's Bakery over the summer of '99. She is sardonic, nomadic, and hysterical, and I am overjoyed that googling someone's name can lead to getting back in touch. Anyway, she just left for Serbia and she takes beautiful pictures.
Monday, December 15, 2003
So, today is our first day at Hayward. It's a more modern facility, slightly more upscale vending machines, slightly more urban people -- a little more mellow, a little less parental. The Auburnites threw us a good-bye party, cooked us a homemade meal, left us a huge gift basket on our last day...in short, we're terribly spoiled! But thus far living at home -- not having to leave at 7pm on Sunday & knowing I'll be going home tonight -- is nice. I feel like there's so much to get done, especially christmas shopping before I leave for Bethlehem on the 22nd. They're giving us two whole weeks off for the holidays, which is a gift in itself.
Wish me luck -- got to pare down the finance$ without those per diem$. And Happy Holidays to all, across religion and culture.
Wish me luck -- got to pare down the finance$ without those per diem$. And Happy Holidays to all, across religion and culture.
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Last night I went for my usual swim. This consists of sitting in the hot tub for half an hour -- contemplating the usual bluster of blackbirds who gather in the pines after first flying in swooping formations, scattering, landing everywhere, then bouncing to a branch and disappearing into the warm inner depths of the trunk area (note to self: come back as a blackbird next time) -- until I get too hot to deal, and then swimming 20 laps in the pool. From my post in the hot tub last night, though, I noticed that the pool-cleaning vacuum machine was going haywire -- it kept surfacing and spitting and hissing and then re-submerging and speeding up and down the pool's length, not at all like its usual slow and steady bottom heavy self. I have an innate, visceral fear of underwater thingies brushing up against me when I'm not paying attention, especially serpentine-corded ones that might suck your toes if you don't see it sneak up on you, but I figured what-the-hey, I like my swim.
I swam one lap -- back and forth -- and then the vacuum threw a fit and I had to stop in the deep end to time my next lap away from it. The deep end is only 5 feet, so I can stand and contemplate. As I watched the vacuum zoom down towards the other end in a fury, something along the pool's rim to my left caught my eye...
...it was a blackbird, swimming!!
My only theory is that in the fluster of its arrival it flew into one of the pool's gutters, and then since the lip of the gutter is recessed slightly under the rim of the pool, it must have gotten wet and been unable to fly back out. My presence -- or perhaps a particular fit of the vacuum -- must have led it to seek escape via swimming. It kept its wings spread out at its sides to give it some float and treaded with its teeny tiny legs towards the edge of the pool. Had I not been there this would have been futile and had depressing results. But I was there. I lifted my hand beneath it, but that only caused it to try to fly instantly, before my hand even broke the surface, and thus it hopped right back into the water. We tried again; it hopped again. But by then it had swum to the very edge of the pool, to where it could not hop forward, and I used both hands to lift it up and out.
The remarkable thing about this bird was its calm, and its enormous sense of dignity. Upon reaching solid ground -- never once struggling against me or lamenting my presence -- it kept its soaking wings out to its side and walked slowly and carefully -- like a courtier spreading her embroidered skirts out in their full glory to exit the room -- and then crossed into the bushes and hopped to the lowest brances of the pine tree. It then proceeded to hop and fall off several small branches -- too wet to keep its balance -- until it found a particularly fluffy one to support its weight and braced itself against the trunk. It then fluffed itself up and gave me a relieved look.
It never once gasped, hissed, panicked, fought, or rolled its eyes the way scared or hurt birds will. It just swam, rode the elevator, and left the lobby. It was charming.
It's those moments -- tiny toothpick bird feet on my submerged hands, supernatural dignity, human and beast together for 30 seconds of rare union -- that I absolutely live and breathe for.
I swam one lap -- back and forth -- and then the vacuum threw a fit and I had to stop in the deep end to time my next lap away from it. The deep end is only 5 feet, so I can stand and contemplate. As I watched the vacuum zoom down towards the other end in a fury, something along the pool's rim to my left caught my eye...
...it was a blackbird, swimming!!
My only theory is that in the fluster of its arrival it flew into one of the pool's gutters, and then since the lip of the gutter is recessed slightly under the rim of the pool, it must have gotten wet and been unable to fly back out. My presence -- or perhaps a particular fit of the vacuum -- must have led it to seek escape via swimming. It kept its wings spread out at its sides to give it some float and treaded with its teeny tiny legs towards the edge of the pool. Had I not been there this would have been futile and had depressing results. But I was there. I lifted my hand beneath it, but that only caused it to try to fly instantly, before my hand even broke the surface, and thus it hopped right back into the water. We tried again; it hopped again. But by then it had swum to the very edge of the pool, to where it could not hop forward, and I used both hands to lift it up and out.
The remarkable thing about this bird was its calm, and its enormous sense of dignity. Upon reaching solid ground -- never once struggling against me or lamenting my presence -- it kept its soaking wings out to its side and walked slowly and carefully -- like a courtier spreading her embroidered skirts out in their full glory to exit the room -- and then crossed into the bushes and hopped to the lowest brances of the pine tree. It then proceeded to hop and fall off several small branches -- too wet to keep its balance -- until it found a particularly fluffy one to support its weight and braced itself against the trunk. It then fluffed itself up and gave me a relieved look.
It never once gasped, hissed, panicked, fought, or rolled its eyes the way scared or hurt birds will. It just swam, rode the elevator, and left the lobby. It was charming.
It's those moments -- tiny toothpick bird feet on my submerged hands, supernatural dignity, human and beast together for 30 seconds of rare union -- that I absolutely live and breathe for.
Monday, December 01, 2003
I tried a persimmon today. It is quite extraordinary after 24 full and hearty years of food consumption to discover not just a new fruit, but one that actually has an appeasing taste and texture (i.e. one that is not on the fringe simply because its taste is not compelling or because its texture is mealy, etc). The particular kind of persimmon that someone brought in looked much like a small orange tomato, but was hard and firm. Apparently most persimmons need to ripen and become soft, but these could be eaten hard.
It's really hard to describe the taste. There's an element of a kind of squash to it -- pumpkin or butternut, if one were to eat them uncooked -- and that's definitely apparent in the texture as well, though not explicitly -- but sometimes there was a slight essence of plum, a hint of tomato (I emphasize, a hint -- I can't stand raw tomato usually, so more than a hint would have lessened my experience), a sense of cinnamon or nutmeg -- all of it smoothly melded together enough to defy direct comparison.
If you haven't tried one, do. It's kind of like eating an October night -- before it gets truly cold, when you could still sit out on a screened-in porch so long as you wore a relatively warm jacket, and you could smell the last tiny hint of the summer's flora on the air, and the first hint of fallen leaves.
It's really hard to describe the taste. There's an element of a kind of squash to it -- pumpkin or butternut, if one were to eat them uncooked -- and that's definitely apparent in the texture as well, though not explicitly -- but sometimes there was a slight essence of plum, a hint of tomato (I emphasize, a hint -- I can't stand raw tomato usually, so more than a hint would have lessened my experience), a sense of cinnamon or nutmeg -- all of it smoothly melded together enough to defy direct comparison.
If you haven't tried one, do. It's kind of like eating an October night -- before it gets truly cold, when you could still sit out on a screened-in porch so long as you wore a relatively warm jacket, and you could smell the last tiny hint of the summer's flora on the air, and the first hint of fallen leaves.
Thursday, November 27, 2003
I'm stuffed. Not so stuffed that I won't eat more turkey -- a lot of turkey -- obsessive turkey consumption -- in the next 2 days. But right now, full is full and tradition is great. Williamsburg, and more particularly, 7 Gables holds as true as it ever did -- running ship shape, aside from some Canada Geese that need running off the back lawn, and an incident with the gravy boiling over and then -- literally -- vacuum sealing the lid on tight. But at least I didn't put the pumpkin pie on "convection bake" this year -- that was a classic!
The real highlight came in the auto world this year. Dad has been mulling over what to do with his 1963 Ford Falcon Convertible, white with red leather interior, seats wider than a Clydesdale and a motor that sounds like a Harley's. His parents bought it new in '63, passed it on to him about 17 years later, and he's had it ever since, and will most likely pass it on to his eldest daughter from his first marriage, who has the money and the garage to maintain it. But the discussion last night inspired him to have us take it out today for a drive -- man, what a lulu, I mean, way outtasight, the tip top kaleidiscope of cool, the never-living end. Okay, so we only topped about 40 mph and mostly kept on the roads of my dad's gated community, but what I wouldn't give a) for the three of us to have been decked out in full 60's regalia (my dad allowed as how he wouldn't really know what that was, but maybe if he dug around in his closet...) or b) to drive that sucker across country. I would have to know car repair, though, have to have some mechanical innovation, and combined, have to be able to tweak a car from the early 60's with nothing but a big set of sunglasses and some luck -- but can you imagine??
Happy Thanksgiving!!
The real highlight came in the auto world this year. Dad has been mulling over what to do with his 1963 Ford Falcon Convertible, white with red leather interior, seats wider than a Clydesdale and a motor that sounds like a Harley's. His parents bought it new in '63, passed it on to him about 17 years later, and he's had it ever since, and will most likely pass it on to his eldest daughter from his first marriage, who has the money and the garage to maintain it. But the discussion last night inspired him to have us take it out today for a drive -- man, what a lulu, I mean, way outtasight, the tip top kaleidiscope of cool, the never-living end. Okay, so we only topped about 40 mph and mostly kept on the roads of my dad's gated community, but what I wouldn't give a) for the three of us to have been decked out in full 60's regalia (my dad allowed as how he wouldn't really know what that was, but maybe if he dug around in his closet...) or b) to drive that sucker across country. I would have to know car repair, though, have to have some mechanical innovation, and combined, have to be able to tweak a car from the early 60's with nothing but a big set of sunglasses and some luck -- but can you imagine??
Happy Thanksgiving!!
Thursday, November 20, 2003
Last night I discovered that the pool is heated in winter. I am tickled pink. Unfortunately our time here in Auburn is depleting -- we will be done in early December and then we move on to Hayward...which means we'll be commuting every day from SF. So I'll get to be in the city, but commuting, even against the flow of traffic, is not so very appealing. We'll see.
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
So my blog has been running on empty for a while because I haven't much of news (or flora & fauna research) to report. One of my best friends from college was in town this weekend, so I spent much of the weekend, dancing, eating, and even playing a little sand-court volleyball (which is truly fun, as it takes away that little mental barrier towards diving and leaves you covered in sand from head to toe and feeling like a champion).
OH! I ran into still ANOTHER friend from the past -- a girl in the class below me from high school, with whom I was good friends for a semester, until she decided to leave. We kept in touch for a little while but ultimately the friendship trailed off. This means I have not seen or heard from or about her in...7 years!! The "small world" count now lies at 2: high school and 1: grade school. Her departure from EW was kind of devastating to two of my closest friends from high school, and her life thereafter was something pondered every now and then. It will be of no small fascination to catch up with her, which we have plans to do this coming weekend.
The other good news is I will be coming home to Williamsburg for Thanksgiving, which, obviously, is what I'm thankful for this year. (~_-)
OH! I ran into still ANOTHER friend from the past -- a girl in the class below me from high school, with whom I was good friends for a semester, until she decided to leave. We kept in touch for a little while but ultimately the friendship trailed off. This means I have not seen or heard from or about her in...7 years!! The "small world" count now lies at 2: high school and 1: grade school. Her departure from EW was kind of devastating to two of my closest friends from high school, and her life thereafter was something pondered every now and then. It will be of no small fascination to catch up with her, which we have plans to do this coming weekend.
The other good news is I will be coming home to Williamsburg for Thanksgiving, which, obviously, is what I'm thankful for this year. (~_-)
Sunday, November 09, 2003
Halloween WAS indeed quite fun, which is indicated by the fact that I found no time to write last weekend. Fred was recognized as Ali G. from HBO by nearly every foreign person in the Castro and a decent amount of Cable-savvy Americans, and they LOVED him. He had over twenty people come up and want a picture with him, not to mention those who just wanted to shake his hand. Leslie and I, having had some arrangements fall through at the last minute, scrounged together a pretty decent J-Lo and Ben Affleck ensemble: I was Ben, and though forced to wear a hundred pounds of facial tanner and an equally large amount of hair gel, I was pretty comfortable in Ben's slouchy jeans and t-shirt over a long sleeve shirt outfit. (Note, if I have not yet sent you the link to the pictures and you are interested in seeing them, email me.) The Castro was people-watching central, with the most popular costume being Siegfried and Roy -- people dressed in all white with stuffed tigers and fake blood attached to their necks. The atmosphere was jovial and lacking malice (good thing too -- apparently there were FOUR stabbings in the Castro last year!) and of course a little bit bawdy at times, but in good fun if not in good taste. Fred and I also took in a couple parties, the sea lions at the wharf (which we had to tear Mom away from after over an hour, but it took Fred five minutes to feel he'd "gotten the gist of it"!!), the Vtech game v. Miami at a Union street bar (the at the time 11th ranked Hokies romped on the 3rd ranked Miami -- awesome to watch), In 'N Out, reunited with some of Fred's St. George's friends and Will, his best friend from childhood in CT, dealt with a dead battery in my car (though I have to say, not very well!) and basically on the whole tried to stay hydrated, keep moving, and pounce when we saw the whites of their eyes.
This work week flew by and was great fun, thanks to it being our Team Lead's birthday on Thursday. We bought her a "hotel survival kit" filled with indulgent goodies we'd thrown together -- lotion, bubble bath, a stuffed bear, a buttercream scented candle -- and a lemon meringue pie (her favorite), and then the utility company employees surprised the pants off her with a SpongeBob SquarePants party!! Then when we got back to the hotel, the front desk clerk (whom we are on very familiar terms with at this point) had come by on her day off to drop off a cake she'd baked especially for A., complete with fancy roses and sparkling sugar accents. We were STUFFED when that day was over, especially since we took her to a delicious Italian restaurant for her special dinner. It was a great day. Plus, our latest dealing-with-repetition-and-windowless-confinement theme right now is to address each other as "Comrade," and speak in our best stiff Russian accent, which, especially when it is extended to song lyrics, makes for endless hilarity.
Finally, I saw the third Matrix movie on Friday night down at the Metreon, and I can't say that I recommend it that highly, though it does its best to wrap things up. I thought at the very end they concluded it as well as they could, but the clunky dialogue and inevitable plot twists that it took to get there, plus some seriously hokey acting and an overdose of religious imagery, made it a bit easy to disdain and detach from on the whole, which doesn't bode well for a movie. (But really, how could they have possibly followed up such a groundbreaker as the first Matrix? They have my deepest sympathies...) The group agreed that the nicest thing about the movie was hanging out as a group before hand (we went an hour and a half early, since it was opening weekend), and for me it was also the long walk home afterwards -- James, Dan, Denny and I decided to walk the entirety of Market Street from Fourth all the way to the Castro. About an hour and a half's walk at 2am, but flanked by three guys and amped by the action sequences, it was a good (and ultimately uneventful, safety-wise) way to unwind.
This weekend brings two extra days off thanks to Veteran's Day, so I won't be heading to Auburn until Tuesday night. I relish the break, and wish you all similar rest and relaxation, Comrades!! Take care...
This work week flew by and was great fun, thanks to it being our Team Lead's birthday on Thursday. We bought her a "hotel survival kit" filled with indulgent goodies we'd thrown together -- lotion, bubble bath, a stuffed bear, a buttercream scented candle -- and a lemon meringue pie (her favorite), and then the utility company employees surprised the pants off her with a SpongeBob SquarePants party!! Then when we got back to the hotel, the front desk clerk (whom we are on very familiar terms with at this point) had come by on her day off to drop off a cake she'd baked especially for A., complete with fancy roses and sparkling sugar accents. We were STUFFED when that day was over, especially since we took her to a delicious Italian restaurant for her special dinner. It was a great day. Plus, our latest dealing-with-repetition-and-windowless-confinement theme right now is to address each other as "Comrade," and speak in our best stiff Russian accent, which, especially when it is extended to song lyrics, makes for endless hilarity.
Finally, I saw the third Matrix movie on Friday night down at the Metreon, and I can't say that I recommend it that highly, though it does its best to wrap things up. I thought at the very end they concluded it as well as they could, but the clunky dialogue and inevitable plot twists that it took to get there, plus some seriously hokey acting and an overdose of religious imagery, made it a bit easy to disdain and detach from on the whole, which doesn't bode well for a movie. (But really, how could they have possibly followed up such a groundbreaker as the first Matrix? They have my deepest sympathies...) The group agreed that the nicest thing about the movie was hanging out as a group before hand (we went an hour and a half early, since it was opening weekend), and for me it was also the long walk home afterwards -- James, Dan, Denny and I decided to walk the entirety of Market Street from Fourth all the way to the Castro. About an hour and a half's walk at 2am, but flanked by three guys and amped by the action sequences, it was a good (and ultimately uneventful, safety-wise) way to unwind.
This weekend brings two extra days off thanks to Veteran's Day, so I won't be heading to Auburn until Tuesday night. I relish the break, and wish you all similar rest and relaxation, Comrades!! Take care...
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Oh my blogs have gotten away from me...sorry guys. The tree in our backyard is a Brugmansia -- I believed crossed with "Candida" -- according to the website I looked it up on. My Mom and Steve and I (lo these many weekends ago) asked in a local horticultural shop. The man there was right about the Brugmansia, but WRONG about the Bottlebrush. My favorite trees on SF's streets are indeed called CRIMSON BOTTLEBRUSHES and you can look them up to see how cool they are. Mom -- you were right!! Whatever weird pine the man suggested did not have any kind of flowering appendages at all...
It was a busy weekend this weekend, with Leslie and I having quite a bout of bad transportation luck -- due to slow buses, miscommunications, our own ignorance about the numbering of SF's piers, and all out crowds and confusion, it took us about 2 whole hours just to get to Red Bull's Flugtag on Piers 30-32 Saturday. Flugtag is basically Redbull sponsoring people to create "flying" machines which they then pilot off a ramp 30 feet up from the water, and whoever gets themselves the farthest wins a pretty sweet cash pot -- $7500! The second and third placers get cash prizes too. Leslie and I got there just in time to see the last two teams go, the very last one being the winner, so at least we got to see that. The winners created a human catapult -- with one guy seated at the lowest end and four pullies attached to the highest end. His four friends then held on to the pullies and jumped into the water, thereby yanking the catapult down and sending the man 61 FEET!! It was hysterical (they were wearing kilts no less) and fortunate that we saw it.
The night before we had time to kill before the 8:30 showing of Kill Bill, so we ended up exploring Yerba Buena Gardens and Center, and boy is it beautiful at night. Really thoughtfully constructed waterfalls involving well placed rocks, artful use of surface tension, carved spouts...all lit up and set up so that you can sit right at the edge. As you can imagine, it was teeming with young couples, but they proved unobtrusive. -_~
I am in love with swimming at night right now -- it somehow gives me more energy to swim when it's dark and cold than during the daylight hours.
That's about it here -- me and my team are otherwise having a great time at work, and Halloween should prove quite fun this Friday, as the Castro is the hotspot for revelry and Fred is joining me out here. I'll be sure to let you know how THAT goes!! Happy Halloween and drop me a line, you people!
It was a busy weekend this weekend, with Leslie and I having quite a bout of bad transportation luck -- due to slow buses, miscommunications, our own ignorance about the numbering of SF's piers, and all out crowds and confusion, it took us about 2 whole hours just to get to Red Bull's Flugtag on Piers 30-32 Saturday. Flugtag is basically Redbull sponsoring people to create "flying" machines which they then pilot off a ramp 30 feet up from the water, and whoever gets themselves the farthest wins a pretty sweet cash pot -- $7500! The second and third placers get cash prizes too. Leslie and I got there just in time to see the last two teams go, the very last one being the winner, so at least we got to see that. The winners created a human catapult -- with one guy seated at the lowest end and four pullies attached to the highest end. His four friends then held on to the pullies and jumped into the water, thereby yanking the catapult down and sending the man 61 FEET!! It was hysterical (they were wearing kilts no less) and fortunate that we saw it.
The night before we had time to kill before the 8:30 showing of Kill Bill, so we ended up exploring Yerba Buena Gardens and Center, and boy is it beautiful at night. Really thoughtfully constructed waterfalls involving well placed rocks, artful use of surface tension, carved spouts...all lit up and set up so that you can sit right at the edge. As you can imagine, it was teeming with young couples, but they proved unobtrusive. -_~
I am in love with swimming at night right now -- it somehow gives me more energy to swim when it's dark and cold than during the daylight hours.
That's about it here -- me and my team are otherwise having a great time at work, and Halloween should prove quite fun this Friday, as the Castro is the hotspot for revelry and Fred is joining me out here. I'll be sure to let you know how THAT goes!! Happy Halloween and drop me a line, you people!
Saturday, October 18, 2003
Last weekend, my mom and Steve were here -- it was great fun. They flew out on a Thursday and I was able to meet them Friday afternoon, show them the place, and then wander about the city with them. (I heartily invite any of you who can swing it to come out for a long weekend -- both Mom and Steve report that it was shockingly easy to manage. You just need to cough up the cash for the plane tickets, and otherwise you're welcome to stay with me.)
As is often the case, in showing them the city I learned a lot about it myself. For example, I took them to see the Sea Lions down at Pier 39. For those of you who have been here around 1989 or earlier, you honestly have no concept of how they've taken over one part of the bay. Apparently the earthquake of '89 changed something -- the theory is that it most likely changed the underwater lay of the land such that it changed the migratory paths of herring schools -- and brought a massive bloat* of Sea Lions to the pier. (*"Bloat" is the term for a group of hippos. I don't know the term for a group of Sea Lions, so bloat seemed fitting. ~_-) When I brought my mom and Steve to the pier, there happened to be a woman there who worked at the Sea Lion hospital in Sausalito and was here checking on the local population and answering questions. Thus I learned many things about Sea Lions -- for example, the herring/migratory/earthquake theory mentioned above. Nearly the entire population of s.l.s gathered at the Wharf was male, as well, since right now is birthing season and all birthing age females would be in warmer waters doing so. You can tell gender when a sea lion is lying on its back (which they do quite a lot -- coming back as an s.l. would be just as ideal as coming back as a cat -- lots of lolling, sunbathing, snuggling, and general loafing going on -- that is if you don't mind the sharks...) but you can also tell because males develop large sagittal crests (imagine an oversized lobe on their foreheads) after 4 or 5 years and grow larger in size. Females also tend to be slightly blonder in color, though when they're wet the colors are pretty indistinguishable. There were lots of BIG boys out there, but also a bunch of yearlings, who all look way too small to be weaned (but that's probably just by comparison to their 1,000 lb counterparts -- literally) and provide an added element of cute out there.
Anyway, at some point these sea lions discovered the bay, and as you may recall from news in years past, proved quite a menace to fishermen, but also to boat owners -- the flimsy docks they put up that mere humans can strut around on proved no match for whole bloats of one ton big daddies, and within no time the sudden confluence of sea lions literally sank the docks! There was a lot of debate over what to do with them -- to get rid of them or not and how -- but in the end a compromise was reached by creating huge sea-lion-sturdy floats towards the opening of the bay, which they took to immediately. Occasionally, an errant sea lion will still rest his girth on a boat dock (the woman told us that this is rare, sea lions are group-oriented, and only one that is very ill or has recently been in a doozy of a fight will stray off alone to recuperate) and the boaters are provided with large human shields which they literally hide behind to shuttle the sea lions off the dock. This is both to provide them protection from sharp canines and to keep the sea lions from getting acclimated to humans -- keeping a bit of fear and natural distrust there maintains an important boundary between shared space and unmanageable nuisance.
For the most part, the sea lions lie there and soak up the sun; they literally climb over each other like steam rollers searching for the right lions to squeeze between for a nap; despite the snooziness, a moment of silence is rare, especially when a boat wake comes through and rocks the docks, and also because the odd male will get territorial and chase interlopers off "his" dock, until the sun proves strong enough to lull him. When the sun is too strong, a sea lion will appear to be lazily waving at you, but really they are "thermo-regulating," that is, by sticking a flipper up they create more surface area for the wind to catch, and this cools them down.
If it sounds idyllic -- and it is -- in the bay sea lions have hardly any natural predators -- except for the horrific creature known as a cookie-cutter shark. These are so named because they swim up to prey, grab a piece of flesh and spin (!), leaving a perfect circle shaped scar.
Anyway, that's my report on Sea Lions -- I have more to tell you about my backyard garden, but I have things to do in the meantime. ~_-
As is often the case, in showing them the city I learned a lot about it myself. For example, I took them to see the Sea Lions down at Pier 39. For those of you who have been here around 1989 or earlier, you honestly have no concept of how they've taken over one part of the bay. Apparently the earthquake of '89 changed something -- the theory is that it most likely changed the underwater lay of the land such that it changed the migratory paths of herring schools -- and brought a massive bloat* of Sea Lions to the pier. (*"Bloat" is the term for a group of hippos. I don't know the term for a group of Sea Lions, so bloat seemed fitting. ~_-) When I brought my mom and Steve to the pier, there happened to be a woman there who worked at the Sea Lion hospital in Sausalito and was here checking on the local population and answering questions. Thus I learned many things about Sea Lions -- for example, the herring/migratory/earthquake theory mentioned above. Nearly the entire population of s.l.s gathered at the Wharf was male, as well, since right now is birthing season and all birthing age females would be in warmer waters doing so. You can tell gender when a sea lion is lying on its back (which they do quite a lot -- coming back as an s.l. would be just as ideal as coming back as a cat -- lots of lolling, sunbathing, snuggling, and general loafing going on -- that is if you don't mind the sharks...) but you can also tell because males develop large sagittal crests (imagine an oversized lobe on their foreheads) after 4 or 5 years and grow larger in size. Females also tend to be slightly blonder in color, though when they're wet the colors are pretty indistinguishable. There were lots of BIG boys out there, but also a bunch of yearlings, who all look way too small to be weaned (but that's probably just by comparison to their 1,000 lb counterparts -- literally) and provide an added element of cute out there.
Anyway, at some point these sea lions discovered the bay, and as you may recall from news in years past, proved quite a menace to fishermen, but also to boat owners -- the flimsy docks they put up that mere humans can strut around on proved no match for whole bloats of one ton big daddies, and within no time the sudden confluence of sea lions literally sank the docks! There was a lot of debate over what to do with them -- to get rid of them or not and how -- but in the end a compromise was reached by creating huge sea-lion-sturdy floats towards the opening of the bay, which they took to immediately. Occasionally, an errant sea lion will still rest his girth on a boat dock (the woman told us that this is rare, sea lions are group-oriented, and only one that is very ill or has recently been in a doozy of a fight will stray off alone to recuperate) and the boaters are provided with large human shields which they literally hide behind to shuttle the sea lions off the dock. This is both to provide them protection from sharp canines and to keep the sea lions from getting acclimated to humans -- keeping a bit of fear and natural distrust there maintains an important boundary between shared space and unmanageable nuisance.
For the most part, the sea lions lie there and soak up the sun; they literally climb over each other like steam rollers searching for the right lions to squeeze between for a nap; despite the snooziness, a moment of silence is rare, especially when a boat wake comes through and rocks the docks, and also because the odd male will get territorial and chase interlopers off "his" dock, until the sun proves strong enough to lull him. When the sun is too strong, a sea lion will appear to be lazily waving at you, but really they are "thermo-regulating," that is, by sticking a flipper up they create more surface area for the wind to catch, and this cools them down.
If it sounds idyllic -- and it is -- in the bay sea lions have hardly any natural predators -- except for the horrific creature known as a cookie-cutter shark. These are so named because they swim up to prey, grab a piece of flesh and spin (!), leaving a perfect circle shaped scar.
Anyway, that's my report on Sea Lions -- I have more to tell you about my backyard garden, but I have things to do in the meantime. ~_-
Thursday, October 16, 2003
This work week has been pretty smooth, so I've been concentrating my attention on birding. If you are not at all interested in birding, don't bother to read the rest, since it reads like a backyard ecology grade school report!
I am definitely an amateur "birder" these days, especially since the move to the West Coast has brought in a whole new batch of things to identify. For starters, in Auburn at our hotel there are tall thin decorative pines that attractive an entire flock of what I believe are Brewer's Blackbirds, who make wonderful "chuck chuck" noises and are fun to watch swirl and settle, swirl and settle. In looking up these birds I learned how to tell the difference between the ubiquitous European Starling and Blackbirds -- Starlings: often speckled, often irridescently greenish/purpleish, plumage looks a lot rougher, dark eyes, yellow bills; Blackbirds: clean, smooth, black plumage, less noticeably irridescent, generally yellow-eyed and black billed. They are often larger than Starlings too.
At the deli where we eat our lunch, there is a single brownheaded cowbird who is missing his foot. (He has his leg right down to the ankle joint, just the actual foot is missing.) He gets along just fine amidst the sparrows who frequent the deli, and ultimately I realized that since cowbirds are "brood parasites" -- meaning the parent cowbirds lay their eggs in other birds' nests and leave their young to be raised by "foster" families -- that this cowbird most likely was raised by these sparrows.
I've also been introduced to the Western Scrub Jay, which is in the family of blue jays -- it's got that lovely blue jay color, but it has a grey "vest" and no crest, and a dashing white stripe above its eyes. On my road trip I was exposed to Steller's Jays as well, which look exactly like a standard Blue Jay whose head has been dipped in black ink up to the neck. They are quite eye-catching.
Finally, while lazing in the hot tub my coworker and I noticed some gulls soaring inland. Everyone expects gulls to be closely tied to the sea, but they love lakes and ponds just as much, and as scavengers can survive quite nicely in open grasslands (and often, parking lots!) too. Out here, though, the gulls are most likely California gulls, and in hearing of this and deciding to find out what differentiates them from the East Coast Herring Gull, I was surprised to find that Gulls go through quite a variety of plumage before hitting their standard grey and white. In fact, even for experienced birders, it is hard to tell the difference between varieties of immature gulls, which start out almost uniformly brown and go through the entire spectrum of speckledom before becoming white and grey. The best way to tell gulls apart is when they're in their adult form; the Herring Gull has light eyes (i.e. yellow) and pink legs and is generally slightly larger, while the California gull has dark eyes (i.e. they look uniformly black) and yellow legs.
Back in San Francisco, I have had the delight of exposure to two new kinds of birds: Cormorants, which are sleek black birds who literally dive underwater for fish; and black-chinned hummingbirds (who frequent our back garden), whose males look much like Ruby-throated hummingbirds (i.e. emerald green coat, whiteish/grey bellies, and beautiful rich purpley throats) except that the b.c.hummers have a slight strip of black above the violet, while the rubies don't. The only reason I'm confident that I saw a b.c. hummer is that Rubies stick to the East Coast and Black Chinnies stick to the west.
I am definitely an amateur "birder" these days, especially since the move to the West Coast has brought in a whole new batch of things to identify. For starters, in Auburn at our hotel there are tall thin decorative pines that attractive an entire flock of what I believe are Brewer's Blackbirds, who make wonderful "chuck chuck" noises and are fun to watch swirl and settle, swirl and settle. In looking up these birds I learned how to tell the difference between the ubiquitous European Starling and Blackbirds -- Starlings: often speckled, often irridescently greenish/purpleish, plumage looks a lot rougher, dark eyes, yellow bills; Blackbirds: clean, smooth, black plumage, less noticeably irridescent, generally yellow-eyed and black billed. They are often larger than Starlings too.
At the deli where we eat our lunch, there is a single brownheaded cowbird who is missing his foot. (He has his leg right down to the ankle joint, just the actual foot is missing.) He gets along just fine amidst the sparrows who frequent the deli, and ultimately I realized that since cowbirds are "brood parasites" -- meaning the parent cowbirds lay their eggs in other birds' nests and leave their young to be raised by "foster" families -- that this cowbird most likely was raised by these sparrows.
I've also been introduced to the Western Scrub Jay, which is in the family of blue jays -- it's got that lovely blue jay color, but it has a grey "vest" and no crest, and a dashing white stripe above its eyes. On my road trip I was exposed to Steller's Jays as well, which look exactly like a standard Blue Jay whose head has been dipped in black ink up to the neck. They are quite eye-catching.
Finally, while lazing in the hot tub my coworker and I noticed some gulls soaring inland. Everyone expects gulls to be closely tied to the sea, but they love lakes and ponds just as much, and as scavengers can survive quite nicely in open grasslands (and often, parking lots!) too. Out here, though, the gulls are most likely California gulls, and in hearing of this and deciding to find out what differentiates them from the East Coast Herring Gull, I was surprised to find that Gulls go through quite a variety of plumage before hitting their standard grey and white. In fact, even for experienced birders, it is hard to tell the difference between varieties of immature gulls, which start out almost uniformly brown and go through the entire spectrum of speckledom before becoming white and grey. The best way to tell gulls apart is when they're in their adult form; the Herring Gull has light eyes (i.e. yellow) and pink legs and is generally slightly larger, while the California gull has dark eyes (i.e. they look uniformly black) and yellow legs.
Back in San Francisco, I have had the delight of exposure to two new kinds of birds: Cormorants, which are sleek black birds who literally dive underwater for fish; and black-chinned hummingbirds (who frequent our back garden), whose males look much like Ruby-throated hummingbirds (i.e. emerald green coat, whiteish/grey bellies, and beautiful rich purpley throats) except that the b.c.hummers have a slight strip of black above the violet, while the rubies don't. The only reason I'm confident that I saw a b.c. hummer is that Rubies stick to the East Coast and Black Chinnies stick to the west.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
This week we hit the world's most annoying roadblock: Quality Control. My team rocks, first of all, and further, we set up an assembly line system that means we QC each other by default anyway, but we still have to go back and "double check" piles of work...it's frustrating when you strive for excellence and yet pay for the sloppiness of people you don't even see or know. >:(
That aside, this week has been easy socially and moving rather quickly. And Mom and Steve fly in tomorrow night, which should be fun -- both showing them "my" San Francisco and learning their history with it too. Ghirardelli, here we come...
By the way, if you have never heard the noise a Cowbird makes, you should see if you can find it somewhere. It's fascinatingly different from other birds; it sounds more like a water drop than a chirp.
That aside, this week has been easy socially and moving rather quickly. And Mom and Steve fly in tomorrow night, which should be fun -- both showing them "my" San Francisco and learning their history with it too. Ghirardelli, here we come...
By the way, if you have never heard the noise a Cowbird makes, you should see if you can find it somewhere. It's fascinatingly different from other birds; it sounds more like a water drop than a chirp.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
This is going to be a whirlwind, this travel thing. By Monday morning the drive out here Sunday night (a mere 2.5 hours) seemed like it had occured years ago, and I can hardly remember the weekend. Of course, I've been experiencing a sense of time dilation ever since I got to California: I wake up each morning with every previous day feeling like it occured eons ago. I feel as though I've been in California for a year by now (I can't believe it's just barely been 3 months), if not more, and I feel as though I've spent half of it in Auburn, though it hasn't even been a full 2 weeks.
This time dilation is not the bad "I'm bored" kind, just an odd sensation, as though my internal clock revs way up at some point, and when it stops I snap to, completely mystified that only a day has passed.
For those of you who are constantly exhausted by a monontonous job of endless paper pushing, I highly recommend going for a swim every day at the end of the work day. It ebbs all that repetition right off your body, and more importantly, your psyche. I don't know WHAT I'm going to do when I get a permanent job that does not involve a hotel with a pool, but I'm living it up for now. The hotel also has a hot tub, so even when Auburn starts to get chilly, I'll have a post-work-day-soak to look forward to...
Love and water jets to you all.
This time dilation is not the bad "I'm bored" kind, just an odd sensation, as though my internal clock revs way up at some point, and when it stops I snap to, completely mystified that only a day has passed.
For those of you who are constantly exhausted by a monontonous job of endless paper pushing, I highly recommend going for a swim every day at the end of the work day. It ebbs all that repetition right off your body, and more importantly, your psyche. I don't know WHAT I'm going to do when I get a permanent job that does not involve a hotel with a pool, but I'm living it up for now. The hotel also has a hot tub, so even when Auburn starts to get chilly, I'll have a post-work-day-soak to look forward to...
Love and water jets to you all.
Thursday, September 25, 2003
So, the whole internet updating thing is trickier than I thought. The connection in the hotel is "wireless," which although it sounds cool, actually means that it goes slower than dial-up! I tried to sign on to this Tuesday night and couldn't even get the sign-in page to load after about 20 minutes of waiting patiently.
That said, the computer we use at work for data-entry works well, but obviously, we are using it most of the time. I happen to be the data-enterer today and since this is my 15 minute break, I get to partake.
What this info translates to is that I can't promise updates in any consistent way. Some weeks I may be able to update, some weeks I may not. Thank you for your patience.
Everything is going well: my team, as projected, is awesome. We are also goofy, witty and brilliant. In the space of 4 days we've come up with about 35 billion inside jokes. We have a list of the greatest names we've come across in the files (interestingly enough, though I did this on my road trip, they came up with it independently of me. In case you're curious, the names are: Mr. Killingsworth, Volcanoville, Lawrence Root, Hillish Rock Road, LoneTree & Blue Oaks Road, and Darryl Sniff), we have lists of all the silly things we've said, and we've drawn some great personifications of things we've come across.
I found out on the drive out here though -- I AM SURROUNDED BY WATER SIGNS. 2 Scorpios (agh!), a Cancer, and a Pisces. So far though, I have not experienced the dreaded interpersonal problems one would expect from being surrounded by a bunch of emotional, crazy water signs. Perhaps I will have to give up a now-outdated conception of what water signs are like. (One of the Scorpios, in hearing my concern about them all being water signs, immediately pointed out that as a Gemini I'm schizophrenic. I am so not. Yes I am. No I'm not. Am to. Are not. Har har har. Anyway...)
We'll see...one of my team members also noticed that the 4 of us temps fill out the Scooby Doo team profiles almost perfectly: One of us is bearded and loosely locked (Shaggy), one of us is blond and built (Fred), the other girl has short hair and wears glasses (Velma) and I, being a tall blond, am supposedly Daphne (YES! After being a Velma nearly all of my life, I have finally achieved Daphne status...). Our team lead, however, is not really Scooby -- she decided she's more of a Scrappy Doo. So most of our spare time is spent trying to figure out just what the mystery is and who's behind it. ;0)
Last but not least, Auburn is a lovely little town (it has an "old town" section that is very Jackson Hole/Gold Rushy/Store Fronty. But it's pretty small) and our hotel has a pool and a hot tub (both of which I use every day) AND is located 500 feet from In N' Out. We also have a Marie Calender's built into the hotel. Yay!
The momentum is gathering. Though I miss my friends in SF, conditions are ideal and everything is going smoothly. Talk to you soon!
That said, the computer we use at work for data-entry works well, but obviously, we are using it most of the time. I happen to be the data-enterer today and since this is my 15 minute break, I get to partake.
What this info translates to is that I can't promise updates in any consistent way. Some weeks I may be able to update, some weeks I may not. Thank you for your patience.
Everything is going well: my team, as projected, is awesome. We are also goofy, witty and brilliant. In the space of 4 days we've come up with about 35 billion inside jokes. We have a list of the greatest names we've come across in the files (interestingly enough, though I did this on my road trip, they came up with it independently of me. In case you're curious, the names are: Mr. Killingsworth, Volcanoville, Lawrence Root, Hillish Rock Road, LoneTree & Blue Oaks Road, and Darryl Sniff), we have lists of all the silly things we've said, and we've drawn some great personifications of things we've come across.
I found out on the drive out here though -- I AM SURROUNDED BY WATER SIGNS. 2 Scorpios (agh!), a Cancer, and a Pisces. So far though, I have not experienced the dreaded interpersonal problems one would expect from being surrounded by a bunch of emotional, crazy water signs. Perhaps I will have to give up a now-outdated conception of what water signs are like. (One of the Scorpios, in hearing my concern about them all being water signs, immediately pointed out that as a Gemini I'm schizophrenic. I am so not. Yes I am. No I'm not. Am to. Are not. Har har har. Anyway...)
We'll see...one of my team members also noticed that the 4 of us temps fill out the Scooby Doo team profiles almost perfectly: One of us is bearded and loosely locked (Shaggy), one of us is blond and built (Fred), the other girl has short hair and wears glasses (Velma) and I, being a tall blond, am supposedly Daphne (YES! After being a Velma nearly all of my life, I have finally achieved Daphne status...). Our team lead, however, is not really Scooby -- she decided she's more of a Scrappy Doo. So most of our spare time is spent trying to figure out just what the mystery is and who's behind it. ;0)
Last but not least, Auburn is a lovely little town (it has an "old town" section that is very Jackson Hole/Gold Rushy/Store Fronty. But it's pretty small) and our hotel has a pool and a hot tub (both of which I use every day) AND is located 500 feet from In N' Out. We also have a Marie Calender's built into the hotel. Yay!
The momentum is gathering. Though I miss my friends in SF, conditions are ideal and everything is going smoothly. Talk to you soon!
Saturday, September 20, 2003
Dudes: I am now totally like Cali in a vehicular way. I bid a fond adieu to 210-MOS and welcome 5DKY203. And just as I was about to say that I'm finally done with that long list of things to do when moving (new: job, residence, housemates, cable, DSL, electric, bank, phone, driver's license, registration...whew) I realize I just need a parking permit for my neighborhood! But you can mail away for those, so other than that, everything's squared away ------ just in time for me to leave. And also just in the knick of time financially. Aside from having next month's rent tucked safely away in my savings, I'm about $94 away from bankruptcy! Of course, if my @#$%^&*! phone rebate would just hurry up and appear, I'd have a bit more breathing room.
Parents: this is not a sly entreaty for money. I'll be getting my (albeit meager) paycheck for this week's training next week, and all of my bills for this month are paid. I'm just keeping everybody posted on my masterfully down-to-the-wire but solvent financial planning. Yeah, that's it. ;0)
In job-related news: Auburn is East just past Sacramento and towards Tahoe. So it's actually probably only 3 hours away, really. This small elimination of an extra 2-3 hours projected driving time is quite a relief, I have to say. The projected time line for the project has us in Auburn until Mid November, and then in Eureka or Santa Rosa until the end of January, which would be a solid 3+ months of work. (This may mean that my Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations will be tiny. I'm sad about that. But I think they'll still be doable.) Also, on Friday we combined two-teams-to-a-group and did a workshop with "sample scenarios" for what we'll be doing at the electric company. And I must say, my team rocks! While the other team we were working with was all, "wai', wha???" we were all, "do this and this and this. DONE." And, while I have a feeling this applies to a majority of aspiring twenty-somethings in San Francisco, the two boys on my team are both writers, which is great, because if there's anything Wesleyan trained me to do, it's relate to writers. Mom, I will not be marrying, dating, or in any way teaming up with either of these boys, so let's nip that dreamy look in your eyes in the bud right now, okay? But just know I'm in great company. To that end, one of these boys is most definitely bringing his laptop and told us we could use it for email if we'd like. While I don't intend to abuse this situation by writing to you all every single night, it does mean I'm slightly more reachable electronically.
Take care everyone!
Parents: this is not a sly entreaty for money. I'll be getting my (albeit meager) paycheck for this week's training next week, and all of my bills for this month are paid. I'm just keeping everybody posted on my masterfully down-to-the-wire but solvent financial planning. Yeah, that's it. ;0)
In job-related news: Auburn is East just past Sacramento and towards Tahoe. So it's actually probably only 3 hours away, really. This small elimination of an extra 2-3 hours projected driving time is quite a relief, I have to say. The projected time line for the project has us in Auburn until Mid November, and then in Eureka or Santa Rosa until the end of January, which would be a solid 3+ months of work. (This may mean that my Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations will be tiny. I'm sad about that. But I think they'll still be doable.) Also, on Friday we combined two-teams-to-a-group and did a workshop with "sample scenarios" for what we'll be doing at the electric company. And I must say, my team rocks! While the other team we were working with was all, "wai', wha???" we were all, "do this and this and this. DONE." And, while I have a feeling this applies to a majority of aspiring twenty-somethings in San Francisco, the two boys on my team are both writers, which is great, because if there's anything Wesleyan trained me to do, it's relate to writers. Mom, I will not be marrying, dating, or in any way teaming up with either of these boys, so let's nip that dreamy look in your eyes in the bud right now, okay? But just know I'm in great company. To that end, one of these boys is most definitely bringing his laptop and told us we could use it for email if we'd like. While I don't intend to abuse this situation by writing to you all every single night, it does mean I'm slightly more reachable electronically.
Take care everyone!
Friday, September 19, 2003
Thursday, September 18, 2003
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
So this is what, under attorney-client privilege, I am allowed to say: I am working for a consulting firm at an electric company to aid them in an internal audit. ;)
Today's meeting went well. Most of the day was spent learning exactly what we'd be doing, where we'd be going, and meeting our team leaders and the E.C. affiliates. There are 6 teams, each of which will be sent to two major areas. I ended up in one of the teams that starts out in Auburn -- Northeastern CA -- and then moves to the Santa Rosa/Eureka area. For now it will mean driving 5-6 hours in a van with 4 other people (3 other temps and our team leader) every Sunday and Friday afternoon and staying in a hotel all of the corresponding nights. The good news is, we are paid for all of that driving time (which means lot$ of overtime) and we get the food allowance as well, so...essentially I will have little to no expenses besides rent and bills from now until late January.
My team seems cool -- two guys, another girl, myself, and our team leader (who's a girl). They all seem nice, charismatic, diligent. I have a positive outlook on this one.
I'll do my best to stay in touch -- we may or may not have internet access, and I'll be avoiding using my cell phone until after 9pm PST or on weekends, since last month's bill was a whopper, plus I'll be busy anyway. But those are loose guidelines and not to be considered restrictions.
Yay!
Today's meeting went well. Most of the day was spent learning exactly what we'd be doing, where we'd be going, and meeting our team leaders and the E.C. affiliates. There are 6 teams, each of which will be sent to two major areas. I ended up in one of the teams that starts out in Auburn -- Northeastern CA -- and then moves to the Santa Rosa/Eureka area. For now it will mean driving 5-6 hours in a van with 4 other people (3 other temps and our team leader) every Sunday and Friday afternoon and staying in a hotel all of the corresponding nights. The good news is, we are paid for all of that driving time (which means lot$ of overtime) and we get the food allowance as well, so...essentially I will have little to no expenses besides rent and bills from now until late January.
My team seems cool -- two guys, another girl, myself, and our team leader (who's a girl). They all seem nice, charismatic, diligent. I have a positive outlook on this one.
I'll do my best to stay in touch -- we may or may not have internet access, and I'll be avoiding using my cell phone until after 9pm PST or on weekends, since last month's bill was a whopper, plus I'll be busy anyway. But those are loose guidelines and not to be considered restrictions.
Yay!
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