Sunday, July 22, 2007

back in the saddle

There exist people that bicycle from San Francisco, to the lighthouse at Point Reyes. To those people i say, "How the hell?" I rode from the sunset (35th and Lincoln) to Sausilito, a scant 18 miles round trip, and was pretty well wiped out by the time i made it home (in spite of an hour for repast).

I haven't been on the bicycle in probably three or four weeks, so that may explain some of my lack of conditioning. Still, my commute doesn't have any ascents comparable to the one to the Legion of Honor (from either direction, but especially the one through the Presidio going south) or the climbs from the water up to the bridge on the north side.

I hope to make this a regular ride, and maybe add Antonio to the back of the bike for a little extra exercise.

Monday, July 16, 2007

relocation

Pixar has moved to a small european town, or at least opened a campus there, and i have gone to work there. We try to make nice with the locals, who are rich foreigners (americans) with isolated houses that don't like us... because we've sullied the extravagant opulence by creating an industry where once the only industry was tourism.

Part of making nice, apparently, involves going door to door to have personal conversations with the folks (which seems completely the opposite of helpful in the given environment), so i'm out on a jog (why is it a good idea to be all breathless and sweaty when talking to people you're trying to win over? i have no idea) going door to door. It reminded me of my days selling knives and how awkward i felt talking to some folks, in spite of my fervent belief in the product.

After one particularly awkward conversation, with an obviously hostile neighbor, i leave my wallet and phone at their house. I don't realize this until i'm nearly home, or back to campus. I can't find my way back, but do some ratatouille-game-like moves running around the town's facade trying to find the house (along wires, up drainpipes, etc.)

I wake up to the pitter-patter of little feet coming down the hall, so i don't know if i ever got my personal items back.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Also returning...

... my mom to the hospital. I'm at the family estate with my nephews this weekend because my mom is in the hospital, and my step-dad isn't comfortable taking care of the boys on his own. How did i turn into the father that i am with the male role models that i have?

Six weeks ago, my mom was diagnosed with diverticulitis. This time, it's something else, but with almost identical symptoms... with the addition of an obstructed G-I tract. The experts are stymied and are hoping things will self-correct. If they don't in a day or two, they'll probably do some kind of exploratory surgery and possibly attempt a mechanical correction if that is what seems most likely to restore function. It's all very wtf.

So, i guess this is another memory that Wimbledon is going to trigger: being at my folks' place with my nephews, mom in the hospital, spouse and child at home in SF, and spouse having the chance to go out and socialize with (and be given the evil eye by) dykes.

Wimbledon Returns

It's more regular than saturn returning. I'm not sure what it is about Wimbledon that makes me think on the past. Maybe because it isn't a single-day event like most holidays or sporting events, or as protracted as other events. It's just a week or two, at the same time every year, and it always reminds me of summers in switzerland, when it was too hot to run around outside and i had had enough of going to the public pool.

It reminds me of summers with my husband, again when it was too hot to do anything but sit around and watch two people play real-life pong.

It also reminds me of last year's ex, because it seemed to have a similar place in her life. And, for the first time in a long time, i can think about her and not feel sadness or much regret, and that's really nice.

Also, lately, wimbledon reminds me that switzerland can produce world-class athletes. Hee hee!