intellectual properties

burning man 2010 prologue: the desert and the mind

“In such circumstances the mind is influenced through the body.  Though your mouth glows, and your skin is parched, yet you feel no languor,- the effect of dry heat; your lungs are lightened, your sight brightens, your memory recovers its tone, and your spirits become exuberant.  Your fancy and imagination are powerfully aroused, and the wildness and sublimity of the scenes around you, stir up all the energies in your soul, whether exertion, danger, or strife.  Your morale improves; you become frank and cordial, hospitable and single-minded; the hypocritical politeness and the slavery of Civilization are left behind you.  Your senses are quickened; they require no stimulants but air and exercise; in the desert spiritous liquors excite only disgust.

There is a keen enjoyment in mere animal existence.  The sharp appetite disposes of the most indigestible food; the sand is softer than a bed of down, and the purity of the air suddenly puts flight a dire cohort of diseases.

Here Nature returns to Man, however unworthily he has treated her, and, believe me, when once your tastes have conformed to the tranquility of such travel, you will suffer real pain in returning to the turmoil of civilization.  You will anticipate the bustle and confusion of artificial life, its luxuries and its false pleasures, with repugnance. Depressed in spirits, you will for a time after your return feel incapable of mental or bodily exertion.  The air of the Cities will suffocate you, and the careworn and cadaverous countenances of citizens will haunt you like a vision of judgment.”

Source: Personal journal entry of Richard Burton during his Pilgrimage to Meccah and Medinah circa 1853. From ‘The Life of Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton’ by Isabel Burton, published in 1893 –via the 7/8/10 Jack Rabbit Speaks

.::.

yes, burning man is art. and parties. and revelry. san francisco values to the max. and perhaps even a secular religious experience on par in cultivity, mysticism and worship of the extremes as snake-handling and ancient egyptian rituals.

but what i love most is the desert. i love being in the desert. i love the feel of being dusty. i love hot sun followed by cool night winds. i love my body being forced to reckon with nature. and not having a choice about it.

despite our wonderful vacation to south america, i am carrying much stress, still, and i am still dealing with this pain management issue that because it’s tiring and boring and unchanging i’ve stopped talking about but is still present.

and while many will go to burning man to have the ultimate excited social experience - thousands of new friends and neighbors, amazing things to participate in 24/7 - i intend to spend a lot of time alone on the playa this year. calming down. this is an intention. but it is also a result of circumstance.

jay can’t go to burning man this year. his work during this time requires him to be at least online and reachable by phone. this means, that for the first time in our 12.5 year relationship, one of us will be going on an extended, non-family vacation without the other. yes, we’ve each gone to michigan to see our families without the other. and in the winter jay often goes up to tahoe on weekends to do the snowy sports things that i don’t like. but the difference here is that once i get somewhere north of Reno, my phone will stop working. and there will be no communication until i come back, 6-7 days later, depending.

this is making us both sad and i think a little nervous. sad because it’s not that jay doesn’t WANT to go - he can’t. and nervous due to separation anxiety. we’ve never been this long apart.

every day that my departure gets closer, our feelings about this amplify and it gets harder to wrap our heads, and arms, around.

i thought about not going. but i want this. i won’t say need, but it feels like need. i want this.

i saw my friend last weekend, shortly after we’d returned from south america, and she noted how much different i looked than the last time she had seen me. younger, she said. my face - so relaxed. so less tense. and it’s true. sometimes you don’t know how much you’re carrying until the weight has been lifted. and i still have more weight to shed.

i am also looking forward to practicing some self-reliance. yes, i am camping with an awesome camp of 50 people i trust and love, inside a village that has a population of…150?. but i’ve never gone to burning man without jay, i’ve never had to consider and organize all of my own logistics - getting to and from, my tent (how to stake it down/cover it up), my food (how much? what cold? what cooking?), my bike. i am not nervous about this - especially since i think my personal needs regarding these things are pretty minimal, and there will be a lot of infrastructure and support. what will be different most of all will be managing all of my own time. outside of a few camp obligations, i will have all of my own time to manage, without the consideration of pull of anyone else’s needs/wants/agenda.

what will i do with myself?

i am hoping that the desert provides me with what i need right now. i just don’t know what that is.

.::.

previously at burning man: 2004 - 2005 -2006 - 2007 - 2008 - but not 2009

they say you gotta stay hungry

some days were spent lazing in bed until after noon;  others we were up before dawn and climbing mountains.

urban streets, honking horns, crowded cafes, skyscrapers, shopping malls - raindrops in forests, birds chirping, ancient ruins, mountain peaks in clouds - homeless dogs following, loud crowded bars, club music until 5 am - tall crucifixes and statues of virgins illuminated on hillsides, churches built atop incan ruins, ancient religions mashed into modern life - adobe shantytowns, sustenance farmers, cows wandering slowly, shoeless children waving from the wayside, women in hand-loomed dresses - brightly colored houses, ocean views, smooth cobblestone streets, terraced cafes, art in abundance - snow white sky, powder fresh slopes, ice underfoot, thin air and pale blue sunshine, boarders fly past, off edges and into the sky - crowded buses, overflowing sidewalks, insane taxis, billboards and prostitutes - armories and churches, cannons and idols, castles and prisons -lush green forest, black sand beach, surfers riding the waves.  airports and secluded pastures, teeming with life and death. all of these things.

.:..

the way there.

we had a lot of things on the calendar when we were planning and on the days leading up to this trip. camping trips. family reunions. work. tightly fitting them all in, months ago we booked our tickets.  and then somehow, in all the planning and calendaring, it got stuck in our minds that we were leaving on Tuesday, because we knew we’d either be camping or in Chicago until sunday night, and there was no way we were leaving on Monday. monday we scurried about running errands, getting last minute items, packing, getting ready. and then late monday afternoon i skyped our friend in chile, and she said, “shouldn’t you be on a plane right now?” and i said, “no, we’re not leaving until tomorrow’ and she says “no, i’m pretty sure you’re ARRIVING tomorrow’ and suddenly my brain panicked.  i pull up the email.  she’s watching my face react.  she’s right.  our plane left at 1:15pm MONDAY.  not tuesday.  we missed it.

how did this happen?!

“it’s so unlike you”, helen says.  except, maybe, it’s not, and jay and i both hate ourselves for several minutes for, despite all our preparations, assuming one thing and somehow never doublechecking this very important detail, while helen and her friend, still on skype laugh at the ridiculousness.  she later apologized for laughing, but honestly, it was a perfectly appropriate response.  what else can you do?

90 minutes on the phone with the worst customer servie ever at LAN airlines, in which i talk to 3 different people who tell me three different things, from “the only seats left tomorrow are in first class, it will cost you $3,000″, to “there are no seats on any flights until next saturday” to “i can rebook you for tomorrow but i will cost you $1500.”  option C taken.

then we went out to dinner monday night with our longtime friend Mike, visiting for the Phish shows that weekend at the Greek, and tried to forget all about it.

the next day we go to the airport on time. the flight to Lima is 9.5 hours.  it’s long.  we then connect to the flight to Santiago.  it’s late. we’re bleary and half-asleep. our plane had been delayed at SFO, and as we exit the plane the airline staff are telling us to RUN. RUN through security.  RUN through the airport. we barely make the connection.

.::.

so we arrived 24 hours late, but were immediately welcomed by our friend Helen who is lucky enough to have a 2-bedroom in Santiago all to herself.  over the next week, we wandered the streets and hills of Santiago, taking in the city and it’s people. justin, patrick, and nick met us there after a few days as well. among other things, we:

-found Castillo Hidalgo at Cerro Santa Lucia, perhaps the best and most awesome public place in all of Santiago, a former castle and military outpost perched in a little hill in the heart of the city, the surrounding areas landscaped with twisty turny trails and incredibly narrow steps with cacti and towering trees and waterfalls and fountains all around, like the biggest zen garden in the world with a castle on top.  definitely my favorite place in Santiago.

-drove to the coast and spend 24 hours in Valporaiso, an amazing seaside town with hills that rival san francisco’s, streets so steep they have funiculars to take you from one level to another, brightly colored sun yellow and aquamarine houses stacked on upon the other, cobblestones streets for miles and miles terraced up and down the hillsides, public art that deserves awards, a gorgeous sunny saturday spent wandering in wanderer bliss.  outside of an unfortunate late-night moment with a guy trying to scam us out of money in a bar, it was a perfect 24 hours and i highly recommend Valporaiso as a destiantion.

-drove the other direction up the twisty road into the Andes for a snowy day on the slopes - i faced my fear (and yes, i admit, it was and is total fear. on the way up i literally thought i’d rather be swimming with sharks than trying to ski) and taught myself how to ski that day (sent jay and helen off to have fun while i figured it out myself - i’m a self-learner and a terrible student of others).  after an hour i had the bunny hill and talked myself into the next larger slope - and then spent the next 2 hours going up and down, on and off the chairlift, until my quads were so tired i knew i wouldn’t be able to hold it one more time.  i only fell once, in the very beginning.  i know my friends who have been skiiing/boarding for years will think this is ridiculous, but i was pretty proud of myself that day.  i’d rather jump out of airplanes than go downhill fast - it was a big thing for me. not to mention that the mountains were absolutely gorgeous and the views so vast that between runs i just stood and stared at the scene in total bliss for minutes at a time.

-hiked up into the larger metro parque, a quiet respite of nature trails and scenic views, the crown of which being a 40 foot tall statue of the virgin mary who stands in alabaster while overlooking the city, night and day

-visited the rowdiest, most uncouth pub in town -crowded wooden tables of co-eds, sawdust on the floor of the bathroom, and scrawled drunken writings all over the walls - where the drink of choice is a floaty combination of white wine, freixenet ( pronounced ‘fresh-eh-NET’) and pineapple ice cream that will knock you on your ass.  we had a few, and the pub grew louder and louder, some of our party defected to join the table of friendly chilean girls nearby, and so the rest of us…

-…were escorted by helen to an underground thai restaurant with a secret gated entrance - like most things hidden behind gates, once entered it was a shangri-la of beautiful lighting, leather couches, chandeliers, and a private dining room with a balcony for our small party, because we didn’t have a reservation. we ate delicious foods and drank way too much, ending the night sprawled in our chairs.

-got a hot stone and oil massage at Kutralco Wellness Spa, the perfect thing to do on a cold misty day while jay went back up to the mountains to go snowboarding again with justin

-marvelled at the camaraderie of the street dogs in Santiago, who, unlike those we saw in Bangkok who were emaciated and shivering, were mostly sturdy and healthy looking and playing together in little packs, and so used to city life that they’d learn to navigate the crosswalks, and would often join you to walk you home late at night, the turn on a time back to wherever they came from, like little citizens and guardians of the streets

-had several other small wonderful moments (and meals).  many thanks again to our wonderful hostess.

.::.

after a good solid 8 days in Chile, we went to Peru.

we flew an early morning flight to Lima, and then without leaving the airport directly to Cusco.  Lima is a modern city of 8 million;  Cusco is an ancient mountain town. after a week in Santiago, i’d had enough of cities.  we arrived in Cusco in late afternoon, sought out some immediate Pisco sours (as if he hadn’t had enough already), and then wandered the streets for the evening.  narrow cobblestone paths between old buildings like any old city from Boston to Athens, but these were crowded with Peruvians selling everything from pirated DVDs to soccer balls to handicrafts to unidentifiable produce.  the streets teemed with life as tiny cabs zoomed by filled with tourists, all there to start journeys to the ancient Incan trails and mountain empires.  we went to bed early, as the next day we started the long journey - long even without trekking the Inca Trail - to Machu Picchu.

5:30 am Friday the 13th, we arose and after a short breakfast took a 30 minute cab to the train station to catch the 4 hour train through the Sacred Valley to Aguas Calienties, a small town inaccessible except by foot or rail.  we passed small farms and wondered about the residents waving at us by the railside - what do they know about the worlds we come from? and what is it like to be them, living off the land in this amazing place? then, a fast shuffle to find the office to buy passes to the park and the tickets to 30 minute bus ride up an incredible switchback mountain road to the entrance to the ancient cloud city.  we finally arrived at 12:30pm - 7 hours after getting up, and that’s the fastest way, without doing any hiking.

the first view of Machu Picchu is the postcard face - the one you see on posters and billboards and in the photos of every person who’s ever visited there. my initial reaction was a mix of elation and initial underwhelm.  maybe because it took so long (and cost so much) to finally get there, standing at that first precipice i wondered, just for a minute, if it was worth it.  also, from that initial view, the looked so much smaller than i thought it was - a tiny village-when in photos, probably taken from higher points of view, it seemed more expansive.

we went first to see the Incan Drawbridge, which initially seems like “what am i looking at?” but is then utterly amazing…. removable wooden slats over a gap (10 feet?) of an otherwise impassible bridge. this photo does not do justice to the facts that 1. the face this is built into is totally vertical and solid rock and 2. the drop off is several thousand feet and 3. most amazingly, where, exactly, does it go?  we looked and looked but once the steps ended could find no conceivable path for it to be leading to on the other side - just sheer cliff.

as we were walking there/back it started to rain, but it was warm, and i didn’t mind.  the forest smelled amazing, and the misty mountain peaks were so big, and so surreal my eyes couldn’t take it all in.

then into the actual ancient village, with it’s terraced layers and now-roofless stone houses - a maze and a garden, a village and a cathedral.  we wandered, played with the grass muching llamas, and then after a few claps of thunder it REALLY started to rain. there was almost no wind, and the rain fell hard from a still sky.  would it ever pass?  we finally took shelter with the other tourists in a couple of thatched huts, and waited.  30 minutes passed, and finally the rain let up, and we spent another hour or so wandering the paths, taking all the steps that seemed to go nowhere and discovering the circuitous nature, the labyrinth, the genius of the stonework, the irrigation paths built into the stones, the rocks laid out so as move the flow of water to prevent flooding. what was life like in this place, then? what did the children do, the women?  their routines, their songs, their kitchens? as someone who came so far to be there, it was only natural to wonder: did they ever go up and down? their vista was vast, but how far did they actually travel, and if so, how?

the mist rose from the valley below, and for a while we were overtaken with clouds, but then the sun came back, and soon it was time to go.

back down down down the mountain, to Aguas Calientes, where we enjoyed pisco sours before getting back on the train.  for the ride back, we had no other option than to take the luxury train, as so many people hike up to machu picchu and then take the train back down that all the cheap backpacker trains were booked. it was a sticker shock when we booked the trip, but at that moment, approaching the train and seeing all the beautifully lit cars with their velvet seats, straight out of a 1920s film, i was immediately over how much it cost.  we were wet, tired, and hungry, and this was the perfect thing.  the train had a bar car in which a live band played music - latin covers of beatles songs, traditional peruvian music - and all the people in the car were given percussion instruments.  with the booze flowing free and everyone on an already natural high from being in such an amazing place, the mood was almost ecstatic.  we sang along and danced, and then went back to our table for dinner, a 4 course meal, served in full.  while the train ride there seemed to take forever, this one flew by fast, and we were back in Cusco before we could even finish our last glasses of wine.

the next day we wandered the streets a little more, purchased some art (paying too much, probably) and sat on the balcony of the organic restaurant, Greens Organic, watching the tourists and the peruvians interact in the narrow street below. then it was back to the airport, back to Lima.

.::.

we only had 24 hours in Lima. even though we arrived in Lima with time to get dinner, take a nap and then go out on the town Saturday night, either i had a wicked hangover from that neverending wine in the luxury train the night before or the days at altitude in Cusco (11,600 feet) had finally gotten to me (or maybe the combination of the two) - i had a pretty bad headache most of the day on Saturday, and was exhausted and not much in the mood to go out.  we stayed at the JW Marriott in Lima - the only 5 star hotel in the city, across from a seaside mall built into the oceanside cliffs of Miraflores, and honestly, there really wasn’t much reason to leave. so we didn’t.

Sunday we woke up late, the weather was drizzling and gray, but we did walk from the beach into the city far enough to visit the Huaca Pucllana - ancient (200-700AD) Incan Ruins of a ceremonial site. well, sort of visit. we got there after it closed. but we could see its crazy adobe structure from the outside.

dinner, then back to the airport to head home.

.::.

the way back.

our flight was scheduled to leave at 00:35am on Monday, and we got to the airport at about 10:00pm Sunday night.  the line to check in for flights to the US on LAN was incredibly long, and it took until 11:15 to get to the counter.  note: when they say be there 3 hours early, sometimes they mean it.  we got there, and she says, “your flight has been delayed until 3:40am”.  ARGH. 4 more hours in the airport. FINE.  but then the boarding passes she gives us still say 00:35…..whatever……so we go to the pre-security area, where all the restaurants are. jay plops down at starbucks (for the wi-fi), i go next door to the tiny spa to get a manicure. i have slight anxiety that the flight might get moved back up (it happens), or that she gave us wrong information (their computer systems had so many glitches, so much misinformation, the boards didn’t update), but i tried to relax and let it go.  so i’m sitting there, my freshly-polished nails drying, and suddenly jay comes running over. COME ON WE HAVE TO GO, THE FLIGHT LEAVES AT 1:15.  it’s 12:45. and we haven’t been through immigration or security yet. we basically have 10 minutes. we run.

i get held up at security because of something setting off the metal detector.  jay takes off without me to get to the flight, to hold it. i almost cry waiting behind slow people at immigration. 2 wrongly identified gates later, sweaty, panicked and out of breath, we’re told, “oh, that meant we are going to give an update at 1:15″.  at 1:15 they say, “this flight is expected to leave at 3:40″. and now we’re just sitting there at the gate.

eventually, we get home.

.::.

i don’t mean to take away from the fun we had on the trip by framing the travelogue starting and ending with our airline debacles.  air travel is a luxury, and i always try to put it into perspective that no matter what a pain in the ass it is, we’d never get to see the other parts of the world without it (and our friendly lonely planet guidebook reminded us that just one trans-atlantic flight by one person causes more carbon pollution than most families in the world emit in a year - this is privilege?).  a 30-hour flight to australia seems like forever, but how long would it take otherwise?  the real surreal part about it to me is that walking the ropes of an airport always makes me feel like i’m in some sort of game - there’s always running, stress, odd questions to answer from immigration, changing time tables, people trapped inside, everyone with an agenda, an objective.  it’s a microcosm of modern culture, and if and when i can step back from the annooyances, the stress, i find it highly amusing.

.:.

i’ve been to 9 other countries (Mexico, Canada, the Netherlands, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Chile, Peru) in the past 12 months, and i still have wanderlust.

.::.

i’ve always found it sort of strange that when celebrities or athletes or anyone who’s accomplished something great gets interviewed on television, the interviewer always asks: “so what’s next for you?”, as if winning the nobel prize or starring in the highest grossing movie of all time or winning 7 gold medals isn’t enough. but that’s how some humans are, seekers who constantly want to know: what’s next?

next, i’m going to burning man, for the sixth time. in 10 days.

UP and away (in memory of my grandmother)

today is the anniversary of my maternal grandmother’s death on 7/21/2003. she was a loving mother of 8 children, 20+ grandchildren, and now a number of great-grandchildren i can’t even count. many of us grandchildren lived with my grandparents for various reasons for different lengths of time, and i lived with them in Harbor Springs, MI the spring-summer of 1991, when i was 14 and finishing the 9th grade. it was a rather tumultuous period of my family life, but Grandma was always there and having that safe place to go to was invaluable. i can’t write much more about her and the memories now because it’s too hard. we all miss her dearly.

when i saw the Pixar movie “UP” for the first time, i cried during the first montage of the old man and his wife buying their house, growing old together, and the feeling of loss when she died and he was left alone to ponder their lives and things they’d never done, including her lifelong dream to go to South America, and his fight to save his home - the place that held all of the memories. it reminded me so much of my grandparents, and of my grandfather, who still lives on there in that quiet little town. unfortunately, the farm house they built together and lived in for decades burned down shortly after i moved to California and my grandfather lives somehwhere else now. but in my mind, that is always where they lived, and i know that house was full of memories and dreams.

part of the reason i am going to South America (on August 2) is because of that film. i want to grow old with Jay and not have any regrets about what we dreamed of and didn’t do. i want to make sure that we don’t put aside things like travel until it’s too late. i know in the film the wife was perfectly happy with the life they ended up living, and i know the same is true for my grandmother, who loved her home and her children and her church and her small town. i don’t even know if she ever really wanted to travel, but i do, and if i have a fear of anything - it’s regret, and so this trip i’m taking is, in part, in honor of the memory of my grandmother, bless her soul.

tiny posts that somehow evolved into live-blogging american idol

• there are certain songs that when i hear them on the radio, in my head it gets replaced with the high school marching band/jazz band version (i was in band from grade 6-12, was 1st clarinet and played sax also).  i am not enjoying the HS jazz band version of China Grove in my head right now.

• i still listen to “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley all the time.  that song makes me so happy.

• last night i resuffered the dream that i wasn’t passing calculus again (IRL i got an A), and this time (the nth time) i noted that the lack of achievement in that respect directly correlated to lack of hooking up with the boy i had a crush on, who is also usually in the dream.

• when we were in europe, there was, in Prague, a clash with some local street vendors over a purchase. someone made a deal they shouldn’t have, and then they tried to force jay into paying more for it afterward.  i got very nervous and freaked out and sort of ran away, especially when more appeared out of the shadows and we were obviously outnumbered. i slipped into another shop and then down the street while J&J worked it out.  i was randomly thinking about this last night and in retrospect, i should have probably stood with them, as most men will not do anything to a woman, and the situation probably wouldn’t have escalated and then dragged out the way it did. especially not on a crowded tourist street. if i would have been the one to forcefully say “WE ARE LEAVING RIGHT NOW”, what would they have done? or maybe that’s a stupid idea.  more to the point is the fact that i run away when scared.

• we are going to see Ezra Furman and the Harpoons again soon.  I can’t recommend this band enough. i am way more into Ezra than Lady Gaga (even though this little piece of Gaga reporting is awesome).

• WARNING: i am currently typing this while watching the American Idol finale, so there are going to be tweet-like comments interjected into this otherwise totally cohesive blog post.

• last night i watched the Biggest Loser finale.  i have watched the whole season.  i enjoy this show.  it teaches people things that are hard to learn.  losing weight is hard.  nutrition is not complicated, but it isn’t necessarily intuitive either. i was really rooting for Cheri to win. oh well. footnote: i think Australia’s Biggest Loser is better (which you can, um, find somewhere on the internet), particularly because of the mini-nutrition seminars . and motivating yourself to exercise?  that’s a whole other animal.  i like BHJ’s approach.

• i also watched the last 1/4 of the Dancing with the Stars finale.  i’ve only seen about 1/20th of this season. it’s not that i’m not impressed;  it’s just superfluous.  as is this American Idol thing.

• this AT&T ad with the orange silky looking things is very rip-off of Christo.  oh, wait!  there at the end of the ad there is some fine print that says Christo had nothing to do with it.  interesting.

• who sold David Bowie’s music to Lincoln commercials?  fuck.

• this ad where the girl eats KFC on the bus to help her ignore the loud talking cellphone guy?  i’d be just as annoyed if someone sat next to me eating a bucket of KFC.

• oh, Xtina! hot.
• oh, wait. this is boring.
• where was i?

• ok, so on April 30 i went to the ER with neck/shoulder pain and then on May 4 jay crashed really hard on his mountain bike. we are both currently recovering and doing mostly well, although we do both complain like a couple of senior citizens about aches and pains. i am repeating this as a way to explain all of the television watching referred to above. there’s not a lot to do when you’re on painkillers.

• i really don’t care that Simon Cowell is leaving American Idol.  i’d rather see Billy Idol in his seat anyway.

• tonight we went for momos at the Cafe Tibet on University in Berkeley. and then i had an incredible eggplant dish, although next time i’d rather have the wild rice than that weird cinnabon-textured bread ball thing. never had a momo?  they’re little steamed tibetan dumplings filled with all kinds of delicious things. you’re missing out.

• fruit, vegetables, yogurt, eggs, cheese, beans, lentils, rice, nuts, coffee, wine.  all as organic as possible. moderate: soy/tofu/fake meats, popcorn, tater tots. avoid: bread, pasta, sweets. never: meat or fish. that is basically my diet.

• what is this, YACHT ROCK IDOL??
• this should stop…..

• this dreadlocked Idol finalist reminds me: not long after we first moved to California, i went out in L.A. wearing baby blue corduroys and phish t-shirt in matching baby blue. we got made fun of by some LA bimbo at the door of a club. i was indignant.  do you ever look back at photos or remember versions of yourself and wonder who that person was?

• this Idol finale is watching people sell out in real time.  it’s terribly sad.

• ok i will admit i still have a soft spot for bret michaels.  esp after Apprentice.

• despite being laid up for a couple of weeks, both jay and i have been trying to get back in shape. that’s a weird term, “in shape”, but you know what i mean.  to feel better. to live longer. to look hotter. me, since December, him, the past several months (i don’t know exactly). i haven’t lost much weight (i don’t think i had much to lose, but let’s not discuss that here, ok?) but jay has.  my boyfriend looks hot.  the larger point is that when you start really paying attention to your body it’s fascinating, all the fluctuations in energy,hunger, weight, satiation.  it’s easy to get obsessed.  the funny thing is it’s also easy to fall off the wagon.

• 2 dudes from Foreigner were on a local program last night singing “Feels Like the First Time” acoustic.  i was pretty impressed, actually . it was way better than this Chicago number on Idol.

• oh! yes, jeez i knew i was forgetting something.  saturday night i went on a bus party for a friend’s birthday.  the rest of that story is fairly unpublishable. except at the end we all sang “Don’t Stop Believing” really loud from the shores of Treasure Island while some people did gymnastics in their underwear on a wet lawn. i am not making that up.

• sunday was the 4th annual False Profit “Spring Training” outdoor party-picnic in the oakland hills.  i was there for 9 hours. it was super fun.  neva and i had a great time. aforementioned hot boyfriend also played a killer set.  lucky girl.

• in wanderlust news, i have the following in mind between now and mid-September: Utah, Chicago, Chile, Peru, Burning Man, Bali. we shall see how many come to pass.

• i guess i can just come totally clean now and admit i’ve also been watching the 2010 Giro d’Italia.  i feel like there’s nothing lazier than laying in bed watching other people do sports.  the bike races intrigue me though, and there aren’t tons of really annoying commentators or guys with light pens or beer commercials.  it’s very simple: ride bike fastest.  through incredible scenery. i like that.

• dude, Paula Abdul is totally wasted. i also can’t believe what she is wearing.  who made that atrocity? and it’s like NEON fuschia too.  file under: “i was high when i got dressed”.

• i heard a punk rock version of Billy Joel’s “my life” on KALX yesterday, and it was great. i wish i had looked to see who it was, actually. on the contrary, these group sing-a-longs in Idol make me want to hurl. i can’t believe this isn’t over yet.

• Janet’s surrogate is looking good. except it sounds a lot more like Michael than Janet.

• Obama was here in SF yesterday, and even here in the “bluest city in the nation” there was a whole crowd of protesters, everyone from central valley tea partiers screaming (with good cause) about the state budget debacle to environmentalists wanting to know what Obama was doing fundraising when the entire Gulf Coast is in a state of emergency. retort: you need Dems in office to deal with oil reform. i have no idea who you need in office to fix California.

• some days i feel highly dysfunctional on a lot of levels.  today was one of those days.  this blog post is making me feel better.

• i have no investment into which one of these humans win idol.  oh, wait….well now that it’s announced i guess i was sort of rooting for the girl.

• and that is probably the most i will blog in a while.

the end.

brides, baseball, chanting and compost

friday night:  went to ariel’s offbeat bride v2.0 book reading in the upper haight (backstory: we’ve been online friends for years, via hooping, and have met up in-person a few times). i’ll admit that when i arrived i wondered for a second why i was there, actually (outside of seeing Ariel, but i didn’t necessarily have to go to the book reading for that), as i have zero intentions of being a bride (yes, still. please let us not talk about it AGAIN.) and i have already been to see her do this book reading once, when it was first published.  as i listened to the reading and the questions, i flipped through the current issue of sports illustrated swimsuit issue (aside: swimsuit models are so much better to look at than runway models. duh, you might be saying. but i spend most of my time looking at fashion, not men’s magazines.)

it was when Ariel started talking about how the main reason she started and continues her interest with OBB even though her marriage is way past that i perked up, and remembered why i continue to read (ok, SCAN) the OBB website even though i don’t intend to get married.  weddings entail and wrap up so much of our culture, from fashion to what we hold sacred (not that those are totally separate), and the process of planning a wedding isn’t just about where/when/who/whatdoiwear; as many brides and grooms have discovered, really complicated cultural questions can come up (case in point: there is currently a very long live email thread on one of my womens’ lists about changing your last name, sparked by THIS link suggesting doing so could have negative impacts you might not have expected).  weddings are a bit of microcosm of culture, and since i’m super into cultural habits/themes/rituals etc, it makes sense that it interests me. plus, i find out about all the hot underground fashion designers/dressmakers that way (i am not however, reading Offbeat Mama, even though I understand the same thing applies (parenting is a much about culture as it is about offspring), it holds almost no personal interest for me.) the book reading was lively and amusing, and it was great seeing how much people are enjoying the Offbeat Empire and good to see the Electrolicious family in real life again.

saturday morning was an absolutely glorious sunny spring day, jay went mountain biking, and i found myself in another context that you wouldn’t usually find me: a baseball game. it was my longtime friend JB aka Windigo aka The Fox’s birthday, and a bunch of us went to the A’s game to celebrate. the first 8.5 innings were fairly uneventful, game-wise, but the group of 20ish people assembled amused ourselves quite well. and then, in the bottom of the 9th, the A’s pulled it together and somehow managed to load the bases and score 2 runs to win the game. the crowd went wild! it was great.

later that afternoon we went for sushi at Ozumo and then that evening, jay and i donned the only green outfits we had (yes, my wardrobe is fairly monochrome: black) and went off to celebrate the birthdays of 3 of our favorite women in a emerald city themed birthday party that only sort of got busted by the cops. WTF, SoMa? not even midnight on a saturday night and you’re telling us to turn it down? jeesh. sometimes it’s just too hard to party in this city.

yesterday was also glorious, so we headed north to China Camp State Park in marin and jay and the neighbor went mountain biking while i took a leisurely 2-hour/5 mile hike. i found myself doing this thing where i have imaginery conversations with people about things that have not happened, as if i need to prepare a script in case it does. i won’t get into the topic, but at a certain point i literally said to myself “why are you thinking about this and not something good?”, at which point i developed a little chant to try to empty my head and also provide a bit of a rhythm for hiking faster, like a march. it went something like “shoulders back! chin up! irises! green plants! blue sky! sunshine! the hum of the insects. shoulders back! chin up!….” yeah, i know it’s weird maybe, but sometimes chanting is the only way i can stop my brain from going all kinds of directions, and even then i noticed that i was thinking about things while chanting. actively trying to clear your mind is difficult.

we returned and stuffed ourselves silly @ Vik’s chaat, still the best Indian in the bay. they have instituted a 3-part solid waste system of compost-recyclable-trash (THANK YOU, VIK’S!), and it was amusing, sitting next to the waste station, to watch all of the people who looked like they’d never encountered such a complicated system in a restaurant stop, read the signs, and then sort their waste, *usually* correctly. it’s amazing how effective some signage can be, and i’m betting that a number of people learn something new about waste disposal when they go there, and not just greenwashing to make yourselves look better. this is an example of DOING IT RIGHT.

and then went home and watched The Life Aquatic.

life is good. the end.

le weekend

despite me having another bout of shoulder/neck pain and us being without a car (in the shop), it was a great weekend, probably because those 2 things forced us to relax and lay low.  several movies watched [liked: a serious man, up in the air.  did not like: fantastic mr. fox (a movie with george clooney and bill murray i didn't like?! thought it was boring, went to sleep halfway through), star trek (2009) (too many legacy issues, too many explosions, not enough script)], 2 sunny afternoon BBQs, time with friends, plenty of time outside and i even got a sunburn yesterday.   and now it’s a drizzly monday morning, and all i want is some hot thai curry.

2001-2010: how far have i come?

today is my 9 year blogiversary. first actual post here.

a blogger-friend of mine recently wrote that while she doesn’t expect people to reach the standard linear milestones (college–>job–>marriage–>grad school–>children–>mortgage, etc), she does expect people to continually improve themselves, and that what you are doing at 35 should be a progression from what you were doing at 25, or even 30.  or, if maybe not totally progressive or linear career-wise, at least life-wise, the key being change, learning and growth.

i agree that the arbitrary benchmarks are foolish, but keeping track of things that can be put on your resume aren’t necessarily super important to everyone either. my quality of life is way higher, even if it’s the same life and there aren’t a lot of measurable differences. shouldn’t i be happy about that?

Continue reading »

a dozen

12 years ago today jay and i went on our first date.  i can’t tell you where the years went, or “how we do it”, or what it means for our future.  our relationship has been minute by minute, day by day, month by month, and now, year by year.  i won’t say it’s easy, i won’t say it’s perfect, and can’t even say with any certainty it’s forever.  these expectations have never been there with us, yet here we are, years after other promised marriages have failed. is that the key?   i can’t even tell you that i know what love really is.  all i know is that every day i wake up next to my best friend,  and i can’t imagine my world without him.

besos to you, darling.  and many more.

illin’

jay got sick last thurs night with what was at first thought to be food poisoning, from what unsure, and he was in bed and didn’t eat for 2 days.  which, you now, for a diabetic, is a little scary.  we went to a dinner party saturday night, and he sat in a room full of food and didn’t eat a thing.  i was feeling fine right up into that dinner party, although sluggish that afternoon, but at around 5AM sunday morning i woke up to a headache like i haven’t had since the last time we went to las vegas and my stomach in knots. i then spent all day sunday and all day monday in bed, under covers, eyes closed, unable to eat or drink a thing without it coming back up, my body literally shutting down.  yesterday i pulled myself together to go to work for a few hours and then attend the SF Fashion Feud, where, fueled by a red bull and a burrito, i finally started feeling like myself again.

however, going to bed after having your first meal in 3 days be a red bull and a burrito isn’t a recipe for a good night’s sleep, and i had some seriously tumultous dreams last night. i don’t remember all of them except the one right before i woke up, but i do know that they were all anxious, stressful, uneasy.

this is the one i recall:

i pulled out of the gate of my loft building in west oakland (a neighborhood often riddled with street crime IRL) onto the one-way street, going the wrong direction.  i was in some sort of high-speed golf cart type thing.  i was driving fast, the wrong direction.  i had a machine gun, or some other automatic weapon. i was firing streams of bullets randomly across the plaza intersection of West Grand and Mandela Parkway, in all directions, at oncoming traffic. i was full-throttle.  i was alone.  i was brazen.  i did not care.  i was blank.  i headed up mandela parkway, still going the wrong way, until i saw, parked ahead, a police car.  i abandoned my golf-cart and weapon.  i made it look like i was on foot.  i went running up the police car, suddenly the victim.  i was crying.  i was telling what i saw, giving the witness account but knowing that i was the one who had done it, guilt tying my stomach in knots, hoping to not get caught. this went on for a while, me playing the victim while knowing i was the offender. the anxiety, the self-hatred, was overwhelming. i couldn’t tell if i was remorseful about what i had done, or if i just didn’t want to get caught.  there didn’t seem to be a lot of remorse. just a lot of not wanting to get caught.

i woke feeling sick to my stomach, some of which leftover from my actual illness, some from the dream. i have never in my life been inclined to such violence. there is no part of me that even wants to play “shoot ‘em up” video games, where one pretends to kill. i have had a few violent outbursts in my life, and they totally caught me offguard.  so waking from this dream - in which initially i was utterly void of guilt, willing to kill innocents to express my anger and rage (at what i still don’t know) - i was horrified at myself.  that any part of my psyche could even have that ability. and then to flip to the role of being the guilty person pretending to be the victim - a person who would steal and rob and kill and then blame others, and then claim it was an act against them. that mindset was, in the end, even more disturbing than the initial role, more gut-wrenching. to live with that.

my coworker suggests that in our dreams, we are all of the roles, and that in this instance i was 1. the aggressor 2. the cop and 3. the victim.  and that some part of me is doing/wants to do something i know is wrong, then another part of me that stops me from doing it, and then i feel restrained, but guilty for even doing/wanting to do the thing in the first place, finally representing my feeling of restraint as being a victim. upon reflection i do not know what this thing is in my life that i could be feeling this way about. i could take some guesses, but there is nothing front of mind.

OR, perhaps i was putting myself in all 3 roles as a sort of empathic exercise.  there hasn’t been any recent significant bout of violence in my immediate ‘hood, but i still see signs of it on a daily basis, and reading the news there is no escaping the reality that life for the poor is only only getting poorer, and imaging that frustration is maybe where these dreams come from, as i ride the bus or bike through the city and see the homeless with their shopping carts, the youth with their attempts at making themselves feel big and part of something bigger, the elderly just trying to get by as invisibly as possible, having learned that standing out often only means being beaten down.

regardless of interpretation, i awoke with all of this in my consciousness, still feeling a little ill, waiting restlessly for the day when the entire world can take a global sigh of relief.

the results are in

in the ongoing saga of my body pain (10 weeks in):

first, as reported, since i modified my desk at work to be a standing desk, my daily pain level has all but disappeared unless i do something bad to aggravate it. this is GREAT, but the condition is still there, and can be aggravated.

the results of my MRI last friday are as such:

there is, still, as of last friday, 9+ weeks after the pain started, a continuing deep muscle spasm going on in my upper back that has been unresponsive to heat, massage, and muscle relaxers. the muscle spasm is also constricting all the other muscles around it and is likely what’s causing most of the pain.

also, two of the discs in my upper spine/neck are “bulging”, one of which is impeding the movement of my spinal cord, but probably not causing much of the pain/discomfort as i don’t have too many nerve-related symptoms, but the bulging discs could be what’s causing the muscle spasm, but maybe not. inconclusive.

at this point, there is nothing more really to do other than what i am already doing to try to relieve the muscle spasm and ease the pressure on my discs as well as strengthen the muscles around my spine. modifying my life to do these things and also avoid aggravating this problem hasn’t been difficult, but i’m not sure what it means for the long haul (i can’t stand and work for the rest of my life, i’m pretty sure). unfortunately the fact is that as you age, problems like this only get worse, but i’m trying not to think too much about that right now. i’m just relieved there is SOME explanation, and knowing that there was nothing worse going on and that i’m doing all the right things is a huge relief. sigh.