leaf dot nunes

Morning Commute

2011-11-25T07:18:00.000-08:00

(in keeping with this publication's primary themes of infrequent updating and dream logging, this is a dream post, almost a year without updating)

I'm performing my usual morning commute, biking on the big dummy with my son on the back. This morning's commute differs from the usual in that my boss is also on the back of the bike, because she needs a ride to work. We roll along, and I'm able to manage a decent pace in spite of the increased weight. Part of the commute involves carrying the bike up several flights of stairs in a high rise, and leaping from one internal fire escape landing to another. This is considerably more difficult with an extra passenger (I am, apparently, not allowed to ask them to get off the bike for this). We get to the last leap before making the descent out of the building, and I have to hurl the bike across the open space before making the jump myself, and even though the destination is lower than where I jump from, i almost don't make it, meaning that return is impossible.

As I prepare to exit the window to descend, two young construction workers appear in the window (male and female, this seems relevant somehow) to y that the way down is closed, and they are seemingly very amused at my predicament. Amidst the complaints of the commuters backed up behind me (on the last landing), I realize that I could get the bike back across the gap if I ditched my boss (or my son, but that choice seems obvious)... But the dream ends with me standing frustrated at an apparent dead end, with the construction workers giggling in amusement.

Full Moon Missing

2010-12-21T00:18:00.000-08:00

I sit in the darkness of the missing moonlight, which some might call unnatural, because it is unusual, and i think it might be good to light some candles. I light the candles and sit between them, as they are on either end of my room. As i sit thinking of the light that is missing, and the lights that burn, i see them all as symbols. I see constellations of lights of various kinds, floating around us all. Some we give life to and once we have done that, they provide us with their own heat and light. Some mysteriously vanish from our sight by no action or inaction of our own. Sometimes they return, and sometimes they do not.

We are, all of us, candles, stars, and moons for someone. Keep this in mind when you feel overshadowed or distant. The shadow can pass, the distance can shrink, and the light can return.

I guess i don't know my own strength

2009-06-09T21:21:00.001-07:00

I didn't think i could possibly shear a bolt without some serious leverage. Apparently, all it takes is the misguided notion that if the seat tube is still not tightened, you should crank on the seat post collar bolt a little more.

The family bike is out of commission for at least a day, probably more. So much for sparkly new handlebars for the boy.

California to Queers: "Drop dead"

2008-11-05T09:00:00.000-08:00

If there's one thing i'll walk away from Novemeber 4th, 2008 with, it's that homophobia is more powerful than racism.

EDIT:
I have to check myself; there's really no comparison between various bigotries. Let's just say i'm happy California didn't prove both racist and homophobic.

Happy birthday, Paul

2008-10-01T15:43:00.001-07:00

Wherever you are.

the travails of parentood

2008-09-29T21:37:00.000-07:00

I had this awesome blog post all ready to go in my head, and just when i sit down to write it, wouldn't you know my son needs help staying in bed. Ninety minutes later, and i've completely forgotten what i was going to write, and i'm somehow up past my bedtime (the very thing i just spent time trying to avoid having my progeny do).

Belated River Prom 2008 post

2008-09-02T22:25:00.001-07:00

I meant to write this weeks ago, nearer to the event itself, but alas... i'm lazy.

Now that i have three other events that i'd like to write about, i've found the motivation to write about this one. I was pretty good about posting pictures of RiverProm, but didn't really get to explain the weekend in its entirety. Now that a few weeks have gone by, i suppose i'll be forgetting some of the details, but that'll likely make this description more tolerable (i.e. mercifully truncated).

A bit of history

I'm not sure how many years old this event is, as this was my first, but it seemed like this has been going on for a while. It originally started as a way to spruce up the run-of-the-mill drifting down the Truckee river with something other than alcohol, the traditional supplement. Someone hit on the idea of having a formal on the river. I'm not sure why this makes it more fun, but it really does.

Camping and Company

I haven't camped in a while, and even though this wasn't backpacking, the car camping was still nice. I also camped with my dates (D and M, who took pity on me while my family was out of town), in addition to driving to Tahoe and back from San Francisco. They're a fine pair to share a road trip with. The other folks at our little two-site camp were also excellent individuals: two folks i knew and liked a whole bunch already, and a pair of folks i hadn't met before, but whom i quickly grew to like.

The Prom

Before raft put-in, some of us stopped at the Dam Cafe for breakfast. I confess i didn't feel nervous at all in my sparkly purple dress... until the owner of the cafe wolf-whistled at me. I knew then i'd have to beat the boys off with a paddle for the rest of the day. He was a good sport about the people in formalwear flooding his cafe, and even suggested giving him a heads-up next year so he could provide ice cream for people in formalwear. I thought there might be more boys in dresses, but thankfully i was totally wrong. I really only had competition for prom queen from one person (i had seen pictures of her online, but they all seem to be gone now... no, really!).

There ended up being about 60-70 promgoers this year. I'd say at least 80% of them were legally intoxicated by the end of the run. Being The Dad, i remained sober and fished people out of the water. Ok, i fished people i liked out of the water. I also managed to mostly refrain from getting annoyed at the truly trashed people knocking other people's shit into the river. Or splashing people in boats that didn't really seem to want to participate in that kind of revelry.

Overall, my time was spent trying to keep the edges of the flotilla from getting snagged on rocks and branches. This proved difficult, since almost nobody else was paddling... out of the 40-50 people (with two to four people sharing a boat... which were lashed together). I did end up, by virtue of paddling, more often at the front of the flotilla... which made me the first thing that most other boats on the river saw. I quite enjoyed being the face, and having little kids (boys and girls!) admire my dress and wave at me.

Getting back to my pathetic attempts to steer the giant flotilla, there were times when it stretched three or four boats deep, but also from one shore to the other. This configuration made river crossings and what "rapids" there were interesting, in the faux-confucian sense.

By the end, the flotilla had completely lost coherence. My boat was still lashed to one with one of my new friends in it. The boat also contained someone i hadn't met, but who completely passed out from some combination of alcohol and sun. Navigating rapids while trying to direct other (drunker, less concerned) people to check her breathing and pulse was a high point for my crisis management self esteem. Getting this person out of the boat was also a lot of fun, and i can say with some conviction that she didn't drown that day, which i feel scored me more Dad points. Which were completely negated by my losing my other new buddy from the campsite. She made it to shore safely, of course, but i did have a good fifteen minutes of panic after i lost sight of her and didn't find her immediately at the end.

A small group of us that camped together decided that maybe next year, a smaller, more queer event can happen. For some reason i had imagined that RiverProm would be more like a three dollar bill, but like i said... i was the only boy in a dress! It was also a bit chaotic for my tastes and while i had an excellent time, less people to lifeguard for would be nice. Feel free to contact me if you should feel like doing a RiverQBall of sorts next year!

Ridiculous portions

2008-08-27T15:26:00.000-07:00

The sandwich was even bigger than it looks: that massive pile of roast beef you see is just the tip of the sandwichberg. Beneath it lurks a much larger body of turkey. The sandwich makes a fine lunch by itself... but it came with a delicious cup of lobster bisque. I've been trying to cut back on my daytime food spending... with lunches like these from the cafeteria, i might be able to skip breakfast and dinner.

rivers, children, the dangers of dihydrogen monoxide.

2008-08-04T13:40:00.000-07:00

The boys are away for a couple of weeks, and this past weekend i took the opportunity to go to River Prom (which will get its own post). The combination of river rafting and drinking (by others) led me to drop into Dad mode, looking out for people struggling in the water, or otherwise acting more inebriated than anyone has a right to be around water.

Last night, i had a dream that Antonio and i were in the river, and that i was in Dad mode, but paying attention to everyone else, and lost track of the boy. And the worst happened, of course. Technically, this makes my dream a nightmare, but i didn't awake with a racing heart or cold sweat. I did remember the images vividly, and while he seemed peaceful, the sense of loss crushed my soul, even into waking.

Today, i talk to Andey on the phone... and lo, he and Antonio are going to the river. Just what i needed to hear!

Just to prevent jealousy...

2008-07-24T12:30:00.001-07:00

... since i've posted pictures of both The Betty and The Dummy. I should show the workhorse of the stable.

(especially since i'll probably start posting pictures of a restoration project bike i picked up today).

Dental Shenanigans

2008-07-09T11:06:00.000-07:00

My complete periodontal x-ray... I'm publishing these in case i ever need to be identified by my teeth.

Workplace Refreshments

2008-06-26T17:12:00.000-07:00

Acting!

2008-06-14T11:57:00.001-07:00

(photo by Michelle Lai, depicting a rehearsal)

Apparently, i'm in a play.

You should come! Opening night, on Friday the 13th, went really well.

A good day

2008-05-30T17:13:00.001-07:00

I know I've had a good day when the most relaxing part of it was the
dental cleaning.

Thanks, Bay to Breakers!

2008-05-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

I just want to give a shout out to the fine folks organizing bay to breakers.

Specifically, a shout of anger to those organizing the cleanup; it's been nearly a week since the event, and it still looks like someone took a giant bag full of glass bottles, smashed them up, and sprinkled the sparkling, poky bits all over half of my commute home from work (and most parts of the city).

I realize the organizers are not responsible for the idiots that bring glass containers to these events. I also realize that if the SFPD actually enforced littering laws at these events not only would the city reap a huge amount of money, but people might actually start packing out all the crap they bring in.

Nevertheless, i am wroth.

The Big Dummy

2008-05-20T06:47:00.000-07:00

I imagined, when i finally committed to getting it, that i'd spend a ton of time documenting my new bicycle. That's not exactly what i did with the cruiser, but i at least forced my sister to take pictures of it with me in close proximity.

It isn't for lack of excitement, however, that i failed to take more pictures. Quite the opposite. I've been far too excited to spend any time taking pictures, and have opted to spend the extra minutes on the bicycle, rather than photographing it (or writing about it). I got up extra early this morning to rectify this.

Sometime last week i stopped in to my favorite bike shop to get my brakes adjusted and mentioned having an interest in putting together a Big Dummy. As luck would have it, they had one frame left in stock and it happened to be sized correctly for me. There was a back and forth exchange about the minutiae and parts were ordered. There was the usual "your bike will be done today or tomorrow" (repeated for a few days, understandable given the bike-to-work mania last week). Finally, last Friday, i called at three and was told that it would absolutely, unequivocally, be done that day. Just not until seven (when the shop closes).

I weighed the risks (being stuck in Oakland away from my usual public transit routes home) and thought it worth it to get the bike that night. A kind colleague offered to give me a ride, and, should the bike not be ready, a ride home (he lives in my neighborhood). Upon arriving at the shop, i am reassured by the helpful staff (who all seem aware of the work in progress) that the bike is almost done, and that the shop's owner, Richard, is out test riding it at this very moment. I proceed to wait till around eight thirty with Richard as he puts the finishing touches on it.
There were a few finishing touches:
sidestand, seatpost, saddle, grips, peapod childseat. It took a little while, but it was a pleasant enough wait. I had originally had the fantasy of spending the time to visit the shop while the more important bits were done to get a feel for how things like brakes, crank, and derailer are installed and tuned. So the wait provided some of that.
In any case, the bike was finished that night, i paid the nice gentleman for his wares, let him take some pictures of me with the bike, and i was on my merry way.

It rode as i expected, like a bike, and miraculously fit into all of the elevators on my perilous BART trip home. It started two conversations on the trip home. I did some grocery shopping and found the xtracycle bags quite handy.

Saturday, i put the peapod childseat through its paces and loaded a bag with weight almost up to its maximum carrying capacity. I strapped the bag in and rode a route similar to the one i normally ride on the way to work at full speed, not slowing down for or avoiding bumps in the road. It weathered the test fine, not shifting at all or bending permanently, though i did notice a bit of flex, which seems to give the child (or simulation thereof) some amount of shock absorption if the bike doesn't have any. Two more conversations were started via the bike's novelty.

Sunday, I swapped out the bag of weights with the child, loaded up the bike's bags with a small tent city and picnic lunch, and headed out to the park. We met up with big A at Duboce park and he hopped on the back for the short ride to Dolores park. With little A, big A, and all the food and tent stuff packed, we were at close to the maximum rated cargo weight of the bike. I certainly felt it in the steering, and probably won't opt to ride like that in traffic again (but the park is fair game!). The bike was the subject of two more conversations with random people that day.

Yesterday i rode the Dummy in to work so Tara could have a look, and also to do grocery shopping on the way home. I had at least one coworker take it out for a ride, and got a few comments about it (all positive). On the way home, with three full bags of groceries, i discovered that Surly's advice about the snap deck needing a strap to hold it on was entirely accurate. I suspect that the next iteration of the freeloader kit will correct this design problem.

I am thrilled with this vehicle; possibly more so than with any other to date.

It's true, it won't

2008-05-01T09:44:00.000-07:00

What's the wattage on that?

2008-04-23T14:54:00.000-07:00

we went to switzerland

2008-04-22T07:02:00.000-07:00

We even kept a travel journal (one A and i have kept since we started taking trips together), but i'm not likely transcribing what we wrote in it. I did, however, take some pictures, and these i can easily share with you, dear reader.

(yes, i know, it's flash. apologies to web purists.)

Almost famous

2008-04-02T06:56:00.000-07:00

It's sad when you get upstaged by crayons.

Happy birthday, mozilla.org

2008-03-31T07:59:00.000-07:00

I may even go to your birthday party.

Congratulations, Chase&Ly!

2008-03-17T14:45:00.000-07:00

Holiday!

2008-02-18T07:49:00.000-08:00

Not for me... Or that many other folks. But BART is taking it easy
today. Good for you, BART!

Don't worry, the packed-in passengers and cyclists stranded on the
platform don't really need to get to work today.

Who the heck does usage projections for BART, anyway?

Doctor office ettiquette

2008-01-29T17:01:00.001-08:00

Is it better for the doctor's office to be open, with all the front
office staff coughing and sniffling on everything, potentially getting
patients sick... Or to have patients wait a week or two to visit the
doc?. I mean, if it was an emergency, you'd go to urgent care anyway,
right?

Chain reaction

2008-01-28T09:09:00.000-08:00

One stoplight out on Oak.

That's all it took to change a 10 to 15 minute bus trip into a 45
minute trip. As I sat on the bus, stopped as often as not in traffic
on Lincoln, I imagined the weekend's rain had blocked a sewer drain
and led to lane closure or that there was some horrific accident. But
no...

If a simple change from metered traffic to a stop sign created such a
large impact in such an uncomplicated system, I shudder to think about
the impact of my own mistakes and accidents on the much more
complicated and possibly more delicately balanced systems I
participate in.

The wrong technical decision

2008-01-22T11:59:00.001-08:00

I awoke sometime before dawn and didn't bother to check the clock,
thinking I'd get back to sleep, as I usually do, without any trouble. The dream that I awoke from, however, must have been more disturbing than my usual bad dreams.

I sit in a conference room with a coworker whom I normally regard as
amiable and not harsh at all. The dream has distorted hir features,
but I know who it is. We discuss something about work, and I ask for
clarification about something.

Then he talked about a specific technique which I hadn't heard of
before (something sie described as "trapping"). I said as much which
elicited a sneer of condescension and the rebuke "you don't even know what... Which finally goaded me into a defense of my intelligence, and to assert that I could grasp the concept of whatever sie was talking about.

This sets hir off on a rant about how I will go round and round
seeking understanding, wasting hir and everyone else's time, and that eventually I'll make the wrong technical decision anyway which will necessitate me or someone else rewriting the functionality in
question, wasting yet more time. At which point the meeting ended, or i awoke.

Good dream to have the night before going back to work.

Leaf in a mug

2008-01-01T10:07:00.000-08:00

Feeling like a kid again

2007-12-17T08:21:00.000-08:00

My sister won a costume contest this year on Halloween, at a big party
in Moab. Her costume deserves its own post.

The prize was an electraglide cruiser, a model named "the betty,"
which I assume means it's a girl's bike. My sister, however, is no
girl; rather, she's a badass female triathlete, with no shortage of
bikes. Now, she could have picked up an easy $400 for the bike, but
instead gave it to her little brother (that's me).

She brought it yesterday and surprised me with it, with a red ribbon
on it and everything. We went for a cruise in the park and down to the
beach... Me grinning like an idiot or small child the whole time. It's
good to feel like a little kid sometimes. Thanks, sis!

Mission Accomplished!

2007-12-14T15:25:00.000-08:00

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/rss/-/2/hi/business/7144774.stm

Finally!

Now the rebuilding of Iraq can start paying for itself!

phishing PSA

2007-12-11T15:44:00.000-08:00

I know most people that read this will already know, but just in case i can keep even four or five people from doing it, it's worth posting:

Don't send bank, credit card, utility, or any other billing information to people who ask for it via email.

Email addresses are easily forged, and links can be displayed that look legitimate, but aren't. A new tactic of these miscreants is providing a fax number to fax information to. Guess what? Fax numbers provide even less accountability than an email address or url, which are more quickly identified as invalid.

Just don't do it.

How many scarves is too many?

2007-12-04T18:57:00.001-08:00

My most esteemed officemates collaborated to get me a hand woven scarf
in my favorite color of toasty warm yarn. I now possess three scarves
which I wear regularly. And have at least three others which I wear
sparingly ( for various reasons). Where does it end!?

Strong flower

2007-11-28T18:10:00.000-08:00

This flower stayed in my moto helmet across SF and then across the bay
bridge. I don't care what anti-hippies say, flowers do have power.

co-housing, exes, and flooring

2007-09-26T07:44:00.001-07:00

This dream finds me (and my boys) living with my exes from Portland. The dream is mostly about the logistics of the four adults remodelling the house (the flooring is a contentious issue), but some of it deals with the renewed pseudo-romantic relationship between me and my exes. The dynamics haven't changed that much in my dream, except that now I'm strongly partnered with someone else and somewhat immune to the distance and inconsistency I felt with L while sie was with M.

Likely triggers for this dream: late night conversation about co-
housing in a non-monogamous context, and recently hearing that my exes are expecting.

Vacation

2007-09-24T08:22:00.000-07:00

Reno was a nice, but brief visit with my older, little sister. I feel
like I haven't been there for her much, considering all the times
she'd drive me somewhere when I was a kid.

I would have stayed longer, but she was really slammed with work and I
did not want to be a nuisance. It turns out my departure preceded snow
on the Donner pass by twelve hours or so. Motorcycles don't do snow
well, so the timing worked out for me.

I made it back to SF just in time for a massage from (and visit with)
my oldest friend, S.

Thursday I departed with my good friend, K, for Harbin hotsprings. We
set up our sleeping bags on the deck, and got in the hot water for
what seemed most of the night, but ended up being just a couple of
hours. The kitchens there don't allow meat (except eggs, about which K
and I debated the status of), so we ate fairly light the whole visit,
except for the ten pounds of oatmeal I ate for breakfast on Friday. I
am incapable of cooking breakfast for two normal humans, apparently.

Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time while at
Harbin. Sleeping under the stars for just the second time in my life
that I can remember, the hugeness of the sky struck me, and it felt
good to feel small. Spending the time with K was great, and I wish
there were more opportunities for events like that.

I rounded out my time off with my first apple pie from scratch, but
failed to add xanthan gum to the whole wheat flour, which resulted in
a funky-bready crust. Lesson learned!

Vacation: accomplished.

SF to Reno: the olfactory experience

2007-09-18T17:36:00.001-07:00

I decided that I'd rather visit my sister in Reno with my vacation
than exhaust myself bicycling around Marin (my butt has been really
really unhappy with my saddles of late in any case). Fortunately, my
boss is also an awesome friend and graciously allowed me use of her
Triumph Bonneville America for the duration of my vacation, in
addition to insisting I take the week off in the first place. Moto
trumps driving for me. It provides a much richer experience,
especially for the nose!

Starting in SF around noon, I was treated to what smelled like a large
collection of fish sitting out in the sun. Is there an underground
fishmarket set up in the bowels of the bay bridge? The smell started
just before the bridge starts and carried half way to treasure island.
What gives?

I'll not attempt to describe the ebmud water treatment plant in Oakland.

Things remained relatively boring through Davis, where the aggies
really earn their name. I don't usually notice the bovine aroma, so it
must have been a special day. Sac provided river-tree smells,
surprisingly refreshingly.

Auburn and surrounds had that distinctive foothilly dirt-in-late
summer smell, giving way to the crisp, thin chilly air of donner, with
sprinkles of evergreen scents.

A distractingly tarry construction site interrupted an otherwise
lovely descent, into the Reno desert and the muddles smells of greed,
hope, and despair.

Congratulations Finland!

2007-09-01T15:30:00.001-07:00

Winners of the first-ever eurovision dance competition!

And condolences to Switzerland, the only team to score no points
whatsoever.

back in the saddle

2007-07-22T17:43:00.000-07:00

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.

relocation

2007-07-16T23:15:00.001-07:00

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.

Also returning...

2007-07-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

... 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

2007-07-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

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!

saturn returns

2007-06-23T11:52:00.001-07:00

It is a couple of years late, but Saturn seems to be returning for me. Last Saturday, i saw someone i hadn't seen in close to 15 years, at an intentional meeting. It was great to see her, and have some small reconnection to a time that had a huge impact on my outlook and life choices. The very next day i ran into someone else from the same time in my life, who had a relatively large impact given the fact that he doesn't recognize me except for having a vague awareness of my name.

I'm not sure what, if any, connection these two people have to each other in any context other than my memories. I'm not sure it matters, but it is interesting to contemplate the connections one has internally connected to a memory compared to the real-world correlations and connections.

The two people i saw last weekend are inextricably linked to the second time my heart was broken. One of them dumped me after falling in love with, and then losing, someone while on a trip to Paris. This was a blow, but not the telling, shattering one. I was down from that, certainly, but i still had a friendship with her; she still deigned to speak with me.

The man i ran into last weekend was, when i first knew him, paired with someone i idolized and eventually fell in love with. The kind of one-way, over-intellectualized love that some adolescent nerds must go through to learn valuable life lessons. It was a perfect counterpoint to the over-emotional, lust-based love that had broken my heart the first time, not even two years before. Oddly, i'm still in regular contact with that person and consider her a close friend; my oldest, in fact. Both traumas taught valuable lessons, but also implanted deeply-buried triggers that resurface cyclically.

In any case, the man-from-last-weekend's significant other is the only one of the four of them that i haven't seen at all since public school ceased requiring us to have contact. She ended our interaction in the most intellectual of ways: a cease-and-desist letter. She wrote me a note, hand-delivered, telling me that she appreciated our interaction, but that people were like molecules... destined to bounce around randomly, interact in mathematically prescribed ways, and then fly apart. She had finished with me, apparently, and had decided that we were done communicating in the same over-intellectualized, unilateral way that i had decided to fall in love with her.

Within the last year, i've had the trigger of unilateral communication cessation fired, and i'm still reeling. I've lost count of my heartbreaks, so i have no number to give the one from last year. Seeing the people i saw last weekend helps me reflect on where the trigger originated, and was somewhat freeing. I still haven't learned the critical skill of letting go, of not having to ask "why? what is so broken about me, or you, or us?" when someone needs to leave in a hurry.

But it's starting to dawn on me, and i'll have to thank Saturn next time he comes around.

The Gender Police

2007-05-30T13:10:00.000-07:00

On our way back from taking the boy to meet up with Omi & Opa this weekend (we were treated to a couple of days of just-us time for our fourth anniversary... thanks mom!), we decided to do some shopping for an upcoming black-tie event.

Passing through the behemoth "factory outlets" we decided to bop around in case there were anything appropriate. While browsing in a clothing section of a Puma shop (i remember when they sold shoes, don't you?) a over-smiling cheerleader-barbie-esque staffmember approached.

o-s c-b-e s: "You guys shopping for someone else?"

us: "Not particularly."

o-s c-b-e s (condescendingly): "Just shopping in the women's section?" blahblahblah, saleprice, blahblahblah.

Busted! The gender police totally nailed us for looking in the "wrong" section. It gave us a good laugh and made sure we wouldn't foolishly give any money to this person's employer on overpriced crap shipped here from overseas (even if it was cute).

mad max-y

2007-05-20T09:03:00.000-07:00

There's a caravan moving through crowded streets at high speed, the people lining the streets are mostly bystanders with no ill intent, but parts of the milling hordes are in league with the party in pursuit of the caravan. The dream includes ninja-esque combatants in powered armor. The scene appears to have been directed by Michael Bay. It's a conglomeration of scenes from Blackhawk Down, the Island, and the Grapes of Wrath.

The salient plot point comes with a closeup of an individual scout wading into the crowd and eliminating anyone that seemed like a threat, using split-second judgement calls that seemed very unlikely to have any accuracy. Every so often, passing similar groups of people, the scout kills clusters of five or six, leaving one or two alive, with apparently nothing indicating why some died and others lived. Hello, modern warfare.

This contrasted strongly with the scene in Grapes in which the committeemen organize a quashing of riot-inciters sent in by anti-labor groups, which was highly selective, and marginally violent: "If you gotta sock 'em, sock 'em where they ain't going to bleed."

crushes, milton bradley, and a sheriff

2007-05-18T14:17:00.000-07:00

Last night's dream found me getting involved with a crush i've had for a while... this probably could have filled an entire dream, but in this case was merely the beginning of a truly bizarre series of events.

After staying the night at said crush's place, I went to an A's game. Home plate, and the batter's box, was up in the stands, and a woman next to me was ecstatically cheering on one of the players, Milton Bradley (i think that's an actual player). He called time, stepped from the box, and looked around for the source of the incredibly loud, screechy noise, looking enraged. He marched toward the woman, and i stood up next to her to try and help him understand that she was cheering for him. I failed, or he didn't care, or something else, and he punched her really hard in the stomach.

I took him into custody, citizen's arrest style, and marched him out of the park and to a sheriff.

End of weird part 1, segue to weird part 2:
The sheriff and i (why am i with him? i have no idea) arrive at Milton's house, only instead of being a big baseball player dude, it's the guy who plays Sylar, and he's threatening to do himself harm... until i show concern for him, when both he and the sheriff start canoodling and carrying on. It turns out, they're boyfriends, and the tell me how i'm done for. So i take off, and bicycle away, as they throw spinny-blade things which i dodge on my way out... down through some streets and bikepaths/greenways i remember from Portland. My recollection of the dream ends with me trying to get past a big group of little kids on bikes who are having a great time, and seem creepily oblivious to the peril i flee.

I woke up with the familiar feeling of dread that always comes when i reflect on ceasing to exist, because that seemed to be where the dream was headed... children are oblivious to this (at least, most of them are) and seem much happier for it. The fruit of knowledge totally sucks.

Diverticulitis

2007-05-14T13:51:00.000-07:00

My mom has an annoying, though easily controlled, condition. Armed with knowledge and proper diet, she'll be completely fine. If never eating raspberries again can be considered "fine."

Without antibiotics, she'd be gone now. Thanks, western medicine! You made mother's day possible for me this year.

possible worlds

2007-05-14T12:46:00.000-07:00

Some physicists think that there are many possible worlds: that at every juncture ever faced, the universe splits to allow for every possible variation. Assuming this idea has any validity, there are at least three worlds now that i am glad to not exist in. The first world split when there was a chance Antonio had suffered some venomous bite that would take him away from me. The second world split when there was a chance my mom had some kind of incurable pancreatitis. And the third world split when i fell out of a tree Saturday, narrowly avoiding serious injury at the hands of several sharp corners raised from the ground i fell on.

We're all living on borrowed time, so let's do the best we can, ok?

Hospitals

2007-05-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

Last night A-train freaked me and Andy the f out. He started crying inconsolably, clutching at his left foot, and then switching to his left forearm, which has a little bugbite on it. I had noticed it a day earlier, but just thought it a mosquito bite, but it had become more swollen, and in the context of inconsolable crying i suspected a venomous spider bite, and we made our way to the ER with haste.

Two blocks from the ER, Antonio is babbling happily about the trees and cars and various other things. No sign of pain at all. No discomfort upon re-inspection of the bite, or his foot, or anything. Just mild crankiness from not eating (as we hadn't had dinner yet). I opted out of visiting the ER with a (now) happy toddler, and went home, where he proceeded to have a mellow evening with me.

This morning, my stepdad calls me to tell me my mom is in the hospital, after being nauseated all night. She's so dehydrated that when they drew blood, it came out black. She has such extreme pain that whatever they're giving her IV is having no effect, and she seems to be suffering more pain as time goes on. They've done a first set of abdominal x-rays, but have found nothing yet. They suspect pancreatitis, which is dreadful, but survivable. I can only hope that it's nothing chronic or fatal, and that we can make it up there relatively quickly.

I have a strong dislike for hospitals, but the past seventeen hours makes me glad that both we and my folks live relatively near to them.

Bike-to-work challenge

2007-05-06T18:59:00.000-07:00

Pixar is a very bike-friendly place: we have three teams of five competing in a "bike-to-work" competition, where individuals get points for every day a bike is used for transportation purposes. The competition runs the entire month of May, and my goal is to ride for a point every day this month. So far, so good. I've even broken my fear-of-rain this week past, and managed to make a store trip yesterday and a trip (combined with bart) out to Walnut Creek today.

My big challenge will happen next weekend, when we're slated to visit my mom in the decidedly bike-unfriendly rural area around Placerville. Getting the mail (2 miles from their house) could count for saturday, but i'm not sure what i'm going to do Sunday, unless i can get home and make a grocery trip to the store before midnight.

Go Team Red's Dream!

electric six

2007-04-28T08:11:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, Andy and i were treated to a show (which reminded me to write about previous shows) that really helped me remember the pleasure of watching people perform music live.

The two openers, together, could be a really great band. The guitarist and bass player from the second band were hot shit. The frontman had a lot of personality, but i don't think his singing style really fit with what the crowd was looking for. He was more goth-industrial. Sometimes a little flat, probably because he was thinking more about the pelvic thrusts and messing with select members of the crowd.

The first band's singer sounded like Robert Smith (and he completely nailed his set), but paired with indy-pop straightforward guitar and simple base, but with a really energetic and creative drummer. Of the two bands, I enjoyed Test Your Reflex (lookout, flash) more.

I'm not sure i'd see either of the opening bands again unless, like Voltron, they merged to form a super-band, with a giant sword, poised to Rock.

The headliner, Electric Six, exceeded expectations. This is a between-album tour, so they've had a lot of time to hone their set. The band is "from" Detroit, but at least the drummer is from Berkeley (as the frontman reminded the crowd... repeatedly). The band pulls off the suit thing well, and their combined antics (mostly Dick Valentine, lead vocal) are hideously entertaining. The long intermission with Dick talking about politics ("We like to keep things simple, so, we want to just, you know, keep on having everyone vote for bush. Bush. Bush Bush Bush, and so on, down the line") and mocking (or paying tribute. or both) the SF musical heritage of the 80's (The Tubes, Huey Luis, and Journey).

I hate acquiring new music, because i so rarely find something that can hold my attention for an entire album, and i don't like songs piecemeal. I believe, based on the set, that E6 will meet my requirements for albums, and I'm so very glad Del invited me to see them.

Otherwise, i'd only know them for "Gay Bar."

18K

2007-04-26T10:24:00.000-07:00

Minerva and I passed 18K yesterday.

In somewhat related news, i noticed a couple of days ago that the front brake pads on my bicycle are almost completely worn away. This explains the mini-dreams i've had lately about not being able to stop my bicycle. I either need to lose some weight, stop riding hills, or stop stopping. Or replace the brake pads.

the mansion spaceship

2007-04-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

A bit like an episode of Dr. Who, I find myself travelling in a spaceship that is very much like a mansion. There's a downstairs, where me and most of the crew reside, and an upstairs where nobody goes. The layout reminded me of my mom and stepfather's house, only on a much larger scale and with more metal and glass.

Everyone was afraid to go upstairs, but i'm not sure why. Periodically, crew would go missing. Eventually, someone saw a strange smokey-tentacle thing come down from the rafters (yeah... rafters between upstairs and down) and snatch someone from downstairs to up. I decided to mount a rescue expedition upstairs, to find creepy mostly empty rooms with kid sized rocking chairs and clown dolls with ceramic faces. Also, zombies, which were dressed in traditional English servant costume, doing things like tidying up. Apparently, the ship needed to replenish this zombie-crew from the living crew below, and so, periodically, plucked someone up at random.

My dreams are sadly without a compelling story arc.

p4wn goal

2007-04-23T17:54:00.000-07:00

I watched some of the Detroit-Calgary game last night, including the first overtime. I spent the rest of the evening hanging out with Antonio, and he wasn't interested in hockey, so i didn't get to see the end of the game, but i dreamed that Calgary lost on an own-goal. I felt really bad for the guy in my dream who did it. I was glad to find out that that didn't happen (imagine the shame!) but it's too bad Calgary couldn't hang on against Detroit.

belated show reviews

2007-04-22T09:17:00.000-07:00

Saw a great live show last night, and it reminded me that i wanted to write about a show i saw last year. I think i was too much in the throes of personal spaghetti to write much of anything, and i needed to see another show to make me talk about the last one. Or two.

Andey and a friend of ours (taking the ticket we had originally obtained for an ex) went to see the Indigo Girls at the Warfield. They rocked, naturally. Amy wore an amusing shirt depicting several executive-branch types and the words "war criminals" and Emily wore an... AC/DC tee. Opening for them was Bitch. I actually liked Bitch quite a lot, probably because, as a humanist, feminism doesn't bother me. Others i knew that went to the show lauded her musicianship while lamenting her political bent, which is silly. Politics are part of performance, explicitly or not.

In any case, she plugged her next show at a smaller venue, where she was the headline act. Andey and i decided to check that show out. I'm glad we did, but not because of seeing Bitch again. Her act didn't vary in the slightest. Same set in the same order, same jokes between songs, same "spontaneous" talking to the crowd. So... i'm glad we could support her; you know, as a starving feminist artist, or something. I just wish she hadn't plugged a show to people, when it would be the exact same show they saw during the plug.

It did, however, expose me to Mr. Hayashi, a sacramento band that we both really liked. I meant to promote them back then, but never got around to it. The webpage is a myspace profile, but don't hold that against them. Sean writes good stuff, and plays and sings it like he means it, which matters to me. Someone can perform technically brilliant material, but if there isn't feeling behind it, it doesn't really move me.

history

2007-04-21T07:13:00.000-07:00

Last night's dream involved a return of someone to my life that i didn't expect to return, though i very much wanted it. The breakup happened less than a year ago, and is still fresh in my mind. The best part of the dream involved having all of the circumstances and personalities behind the breakup healed. People speaking who couldn't before, and a return of empathy and love that had once, however briefly, suffused the relationship(s).

The dream was mostly joyous, but held a hint of menace, in that a boyfriend (or ex?) of my ex entered into my life along with her. He was largely based on a roommate i had years ago that annoyed the hell out of me. In the dream, he came to the apartment to pick her up, and was obnoxious about... just about everything. He probably represents my view of reality... that there will always be circumstances and personalities that don't work well together, but which interact.

I don't hold any conscious hope that the person i miss will ever speak with me again, but clearly there are parts of my subconscious that don't feel the same. Perhaps re-connecting with an ex from high school via email triggered this dream.

I don't dream all that often. At least, i often don't remember them. Remembering two dreams in a row is extremely rare, and i wonder if a third is on its way.

Superposition

2007-04-20T07:06:00.000-07:00

Last night i dreamed about having two social-circles overlap. The first was my Portuguese family, who live in the south bay. The second were my new Mission-dyke, FTM, genderqueer, and anarchist friends. We (the younger, more queer) group were in the driveway trying to get a car started (dead battery), when a larger group of my more conservative, catholic, extended family arrived... and chose to enter the house by an entrance that didn't require walking past us.

It's pretty obvious what this dream refers to; I think a visit with my family is in order to help me remember that they haven't shunned me and mine.

Dream Log

2006-11-29T06:49:00.000-08:00

I find myself working at google, but it mostly involves sitting at cafeteria/cafe benches with some old timers, talking about a position called "Total Enrichment" which only five people had been promoted to. According to some of them, it meant that those that were promoted couldn't be constructive or productive in an ordered setting, so they're given salary to goof off. The other perspectives are that not having any order or direction allowed the most creative people to find the right things to work on.

(this dream was surely prompted by a conversation at dinner last night about a friend-of-a-friend who got lost in the chaos at google, and an earlier conversation with a libertarian co-worker)

Edit: I remembered, also, that ascending to "Total Enrichment" required going to classes and seminars, which, consciously, reminds me of scientology.

separation anxiety

2006-11-14T18:41:00.000-08:00

I feel like i'm being given a second chance at learning something i didn't learn when i was 16 (or maybe 17).

Back then, i fell completely head-over-heels in love with someone without really knowing them. We seemed to grow closer, without ever having a "dating" relationship, and one day they handed me a letter which basically said "it was nice knowing you, but our time of interaction is over: please leave me alone now."

I spent days in, near, or well past tears, wondering what it was about myself that they found so detestable, so utterly disgusting that they couldn't interact with me anymore. I couldn't really function at school and really didn't want to be around anyone.

I've felt this way recently, and though the circumstances are different, the final action ("go away, don't talk to me anymore") is equivalent.

What's the lesson here? It can't possibly be that i shouldn't get close to people. Is it that i shouldn't be so reliant on the approval of others for self-image? As social beings, i'm not sure it's possible to escape the need for validation of some kind. What's the lesson here? It can't possibly be that i shouldn't care what someone i love thinks or feels.

What's the lesson here?

17K

2006-11-09T11:05:00.000-08:00

Minerva (the motorcycle i ride) passed the 17K mile mark today.
While i haven't put all those miles on her, i've put most of them on, and can pretty closely match my riding miles to those on Minerva (there have been a couple of other bikes, which compensates for the miles that Lisa put on Minerva early on).

17 thousand miles doesn't seem like much to most drivers of cars; a year or two of driving for the average city dweller. It seems so much farther on two wheels, and certainly more enjoyable and memorable. Somehow the mountains between San Francisco and Portland seem more vivid through a helmet visor than they do through a windshield in my memories.

Things are even more vivid on a bicycle, though. So, here's to hoping i can make it to 1700 miles on my bicycle in the near future.

hurting

2006-11-06T15:49:00.000-08:00

After over three weeks of being in a constant state of near-tears (and, often, well passing the place where tears flow and finding the valley of racking sobs), it was good to have a weekend and a day of feeling ok.

In looking back over the last month of my life, i see more pain resulting from cowardice and supplication than would have resulted from fighting. I've learned that conflict can be productive, and doesn't have to mean that everyone loses. Sometimes, maybe more times than not, avoiding a fight (and by fighting, i just mean being brave and honest, even in the face of conflict) leads to more hurt than just dealing plainly with the conflict.

After being on top of the world and feeling like i'd reached a place of acceptance today, i have cause to look back at my shameful silence and burn in my own fear.

I wish i had a way to convey an apology to those i have wronged with my lack of support, i wish that i could ignore requests for privacy and space and deliver an apology, and i wish that it didn't feel like a violation of boundaries to want to do so.

Fado show

2006-10-11T13:24:00.000-07:00

November 12th, the day before my birthday, i'm planning on going to a Fado show. My dad may or may not be one of the guitarists; he's played for the performer on tours before, but isn't currently listed as one of the musicians on the concert website.

I'm not sure why Fado gets lumped together with Jazz. It's much more like... well, it's not really like anything, but it isn't like Jazz. The performers can do a small amount of improvisation within a framework, but that kind of thing is usually reserved for smaller venues and often not performed publicly at all. In any case, i happen to like Fado quite a bit, and like introducing it to others.

I've sent mail to some folks, but thought that i may have missed a few. If you're interested in going to this event with a large-ish group around me, let me know and if i haven't acquired a group of tickets yet, i'll add you to the bunch.

the before time. the long-long ago

2006-08-16T10:42:00.000-07:00

I used to work for mozilla.org... actually, more than that, it was a huge part of my identity. A part i've purged mostly from my memory. Someone forwarded a link to jwz's collection of netscape/mozilla photos, and i couldn't resist looking through them. I found myself surprised to see some pictures of me there. Mostly from the meeting at netscape (RIP, may AOL cease performing necrophilia on you) where the mozilla.organs were introduced, and the concepts of the new, open development process were laid out to the engineering team. You'll notice, also, if you ever see me these days, that i still wear the same shoes, though they're re-soled.

There's also a good one of me being really depressed in a meeting after the AOL buyout. It turned out, i think, to be a better thing for mozilla.org in the long run, but it was a depressing end to the business life of a great place to work.

Fortunately for me, i keep finding fantastic places to work.

motorama

2006-07-21T12:57:00.000-07:00

Pixar is throwing a small car show (as it does every year) today. Free food, helicopter landing in the soccer field, fancy cars, and car-themed movies showing in the theatre.

I'm holed up in my office. Partially because i have a deadline to make, and partially because i really don't want to be around anyone else right now. Something that i should have seen coming has happened, and due to my obliviousness i feel like a trapdoor has opened under my heart, and now it's sitting in my stomach being digested.

I have so much to be thankful for... I have to keep remembering that, or I'm not going to want to be around anyone for a long while.

90 degree rotation

2006-06-21T15:46:00.000-07:00

Of monitors makes a huge difference in how readable documents, source code, and webpages are... at least with displays that aren't square. Having my monitors in portrait configuration feels a little weird, but any time i'm reading or writing (which is just about all i do) having more vertical space is better than having more horizontal space. I recommend anyone that does a lot of computer reading/writing try it!

new old feelings

2006-06-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

My father tried calling late last week; he claims he left no message, but Andy says sie heard two messages from him on voicemail. Sie forgot to tell me he called for a day or so, and we were near Guerneville at that point, and i had no cell coverage. Upon returning to radio-wave-bathed civilization, I get a voicemail from him piteously crying for some word from me, to let him know everything is alright.

This from my father, the man who taught me (by example) that you should really just relax about calling people you love; that if something's wrong, people will call. Also the man who i felt abandoned by as a child (maybe not through any fault, just by circumstance). I think as he ages, as our extended family shrinks over time, he's starting to feel the weight of his choices, and is maybe projecting his newfound need for family closeness at me. I love my dad, and thought that i had long ago accepted his foibles and wouldn't be rattled by his hypocrisy.

Dropping Antonio at daycare this morning, he gave me a look as i stood at the door waving goodbye, and the look spoke volumes to me. It said "Why are you leaving? I'm your only child and my life is racing by, and you only spend a fraction of it with me. Why are you leaving?" I am, in so many ways, just like my father, just like my other parents. I just want to know how to keep Antonio from feeling the way i did... he's too young to understand why dad has to be away, and even if he could, wouldn't he be justified in feeling abandoned (at least emotionally) anyway?

This world is cruel. Even when we want to do the best for someone, we leave them scarred and scared and feeling alone.

it's called a "lay zer"

2006-06-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

http://wickedlasers.com/

I'm surpised terrorists haven't used them to bring down planes over the UK!

Dream Log

2006-03-31T09:32:00.000-08:00

Andy and i have a moment of tension that doesn't get resolved, and i rush off to get on an airplane; i'm on the plane with a male acquaintance or good friend, but i can't remember who. The plane is buffeted about by strong winds, which i normally love, but this time makes me feel uneasy. The plane eventually nicks a building or maybe a high-tension power line tower, and goes down. I have just enough time to think of what a jerk i was before we're all smeared on the ground.

As i die, i feel the energy released from every single cell in my body as it dies; i feel heat unlike any fever, and feel my consciousness leave the physical. I am filled with love, and even the regret i felt right before i died goes away. I know everything is going to be fine.

Dream Log

2006-03-30T12:46:00.000-08:00

As part of my Krav Maga (very light, one-class-per-week) training, Keith (the head of security at Pixar, and the instructor of the class) had me undergo something that seemed more like hazing than training, and had me take an ambien and see how long i could keep my elbows off the floor.

The setting for the dream was, i think, the gazebo/classroom from River's dream in Serenity.

I took the challenge very seriously, and fought off the effects of the ambien, and various temptations to sleep, in addition to some more physical challenges in the form of people trying to force me to the ground. I refused to lay down. I ended up getting very paranoid in my sleepless state, and woke up before i actually ended the challenge, feeling very smug.

Then, i realized i was in bed, and my elbows were down.

What does it mean to dream about not sleeping? About succeeding at something that, while you're sleeping and when you awake, you are a total failure at?

chocolate in bed

2006-03-24T10:42:00.000-08:00

Despite every delicious thing that had happened the night before, the best part of the date came when i brought coffee and chocolate to them in bed the next morning.

Dream Log

2006-03-16T17:18:00.000-08:00

I had a dream last night that Andy (and maybe John) conspired to track down my old friend from elementary school, Mike O'Neil. My brain had age-changed his appearance, but left enough similarities there that i would recognize him.

We hugged and started catching up, and that's all i can recall.

I think that's why today i've felt so disconnected. I'm realizing how few friends i have from my time growing up. Paul and Mike are the only two i miss. I think i can still get back in touch with Paul; each time we've tried to reconnect, time and family obligations seem to get in the way.

Mike, though, has been missing for much longer. Or maybe i've been missing.

Being Ill Is Not Fun

2006-03-13T18:05:00.000-08:00

Today felt like a complete waste of time at work today. I can't tell if it's the dayquil or the cold making my head too foggy to debug code.

The weekend was also hampered mightily by illness, though it didn't manage to ruin the Big Work Party this weekend. Seeing everyone in formal getup blew me away. Dressing in formal getup gave me much pleasure, as well. Perhaps Andy and I will attend more formal-attire events in the future, now that we have a bit more wardrobe support for it.

Had to cancel sunday's fun activity because i couldn't talk... still can barely talk. Ended up visiting family with Antonio and doing tech support for their poor, unfirewalled microsoft computers. One of the many positive aspects of visiting my family, though, is being stuffed to the gills with really, really tasty food.

It'll give me a heart attack by the time i'm 60, but i will have seriously enjoyed living.

Easy come, easy go

2006-03-06T20:18:00.000-08:00

Andy had to turn down a job offer today because the employer was offering below prevailing wage for electrical, and the Local 6 rep reminded her that she really shouldn't work for less than she's worth. It's a valid point, it's just unfortunate that there are no actual, you know, jobs being offered through the union hall lately (where lately is the last 6 months).

The union is great, and i support her for making the decision she made, we're just in kind of an unfortunate bind of having to pay for day care just in case she gets called for a job... because if we don't, we won't have daycare when the job call comes in.

Really what I'm sad about, and i think i speak for Andy too, is that we won't have access to the cool plastic mold-form making tools and woodshop.

Dream Log

2006-03-06T10:17:00.000-08:00

I had to watch as my underwater city was attacked and destroyed, despite the valiant efforts of my niece, Penny (i guess that makes me inspector gadget?). Antonio survived, as did Andy, but i remember waking up sad that my niece, Penny, was no longer with us.

This could take some analysis.

acceptance

2006-03-03T10:12:00.000-08:00

Work has been cranking this week, very very busy.

Spent an evening out last night with a friend i haven't had a chance to talk with much, and it was great to just sit and talk and then walk around and look at art. I think it was very good for both of us to get out, and just relax and reconnect.

I have made a lot of emotional progress with respect to my grandfather in the last couple of weeks. I no longer burst into tears when i think about him, or about him being gone, or whenever i happen to see a picture of him. I actually smile when i contemplate his existence and the influence he had on the world, and on my life specifically. I know he is either no longer a conscious entity, or he exists somewhere else, in some other state, in his blissed out calm, and either way i know he'd want, or would have wanted, people to be happy for having known him, and not missing out on the living yet to be done.

Thanks to everyone who helped me by just listening and talking.

Andy got a facilities job offer from an art school. She needs to check with her union before taking it, just to make sure she won't be ejected for taking the work. Hopefully it will work out, because the union is really not providing any work for her at all, and it stresses her out staying home.

In gardening news, Andy's garden has yielded its first potatoes. Yum!

Funeral (and wake)

2006-02-21T16:21:00.000-08:00

Andy, Antonio and i were late leaving for the funeral. The night before we had rushed home from the Rosary and Mass because of illness. I wasn't sure i was feeling up for going to the Funeral, and was almost sure that Andy wouldn't be going. She surprised me by saying she felt better, and was up for driving down with me. By the time all this was worked out, i didn't think we had time to make it to the funeral home before the procession left for the the cemetary. Fortunately, i know where it is, having been there for four funerals and numerous visits on various birthdays of the departed.

We made it there, Andy driving because it was my turn to be ill and because i was growing more distraught as the morning went on. We arrived before the procession, by about ten or fifteen minutes, and followed along with them to the mausoleum. My grandfather surprised me by wanting to be put in the armário (cabinet) rather than be buried in the earth.

This funeral was like the other four i had been to at this cemetary. All the usual suspects of my extended family. People i saw, at most, once a year. Sometimes once every five years. People who i recognized but i could not name. Some people who i couldn't even recognize, but who still seemed familiar. Cousins and their families and friends of the family. My grandfather's only living brother was there, of course. Another of the brothers, Joe, died within the last few months, and i wonder if David is going to depart soon as well.

Having Antonio there to run around and be rambunctious saved me from complete despair, and i think helped my father and grandmother as well. The priest was quite supportive of the little whirlwind of life running around as he gave his talk. The service was quite short, i think at the request of my family. It seemed like it was done within five minutes of people being seated, and when the priest said "this concludes the services" i think most of those in attendance were a little shell-shocked.

The entombment was meant to be close family only, but of course everyone else hung around for it. I don't think they meant to be rude, but they certainly didn't pick up on the hint that it wasn't generally announced, and the priest said "you can go home now," and that the close family were individually asked to walk to the armário. The crowd moved together and watched as they put the coffin into its place. I watched Antonio run around and yell at things in the morning sun.

After the casket was in place, the workman started putting in the mortarboard and caulking, and it seemed like enough was enough. People started trickling away to the plaza outside the mausoleum, where people lingered and consoled the grieving for what seemed like a long time in relation to the ceremony itself, but was in reality just ten or fifteen minutes. I re-acquainted myself with a man i met when i was a boy, when i went fishing with my grandfather. He was a young man, possibly a teenager, at the time, and didn't speak that much english. I didn't recognize him at first, but seeing him reminded me of that fishing trip, and i was glad he was there.

We had planned on going home directly after exchanging things with my mom, because we didn't want to get people sick at my grandmother's house, but we ended up staying. I'm not sure why, exactly, and we didn't talk about it. We just ended up staying. Despite having not announced a wake of any kind, much of the extended family arrived, with food and drink, and stayed into the evening. The grandkids all stayed in a separate room, with Andy (and sometimes Antonio). I don't think we wanted to be around a lot of people, so we left that for our parents. I'm sure i dozed off in the chair i sat in... and i know i just stared off into space most of the time i was awake. I've been doing that a lot since then, too.

I feel like an outsider to that family, like i feel in most social settings... i don't really understand the customs and i don't speak the language, and really don't hold a lot of the same views of life. I feel like my dad is much the same, but he's allowed because he's a rebellious musician. I wonder if my grandfather ever felt that way, if it's something that runs in the family. In any case, when we left, i felt like one more large family event had gone by and that i hadn't done the proper thing by them.

I drove us home, as Andy had taken ill again, and contemplated going to work the next day.

grief

2006-02-21T15:13:00.000-08:00

Today i can't concentrate or remember much of anything. I don't know how to deal with this other than to ride it out and keep talking to people. Simultaneously, the only thing that i want to do is curl into a small ball and sob.

Andy suggested i seek therapy to deal with this. It's a good suggestion, since i've always had issues with death and the concepts around cessation of being.

I've been wanting to write more about the funeral and wake, and i will. Just not right now.

Viewing, Rosary, Mass (Funeral and wake another time)

2006-02-17T23:10:00.000-08:00

I didn't imagine on Monday that today all of these things would be done already.

Tuesday night we visited my family in Mountain View, and learned that all the formalities of death would be done by Thursday. Andy had offered our services for producing the programs for the events; apparently, while the funeral home offers such services, the prices they charge are inordinately high. It cost us a few hours of effort, but I think everyone agrees the personalization we put into it was worth it.

I notified work that I'd be gone for the days, and then did my best to get ready for it. Fortunately, i still possess a suit or two i can fit into. I don't know why i was so fixated on wardrobe, my grandfather wouldn't have cared if i had worn a sweater and jeans. I know i don't really care that much for my extended family's opinion. Perhaps i felt like i needed to look well for my grandmother, for my father. I have thought in the past that i didn't really realize my place in my family, but i feel i'm starting to. I feel like a tenuous link in my familial chain, connecting its past with its future. I feel fortunate that my grandfather got to see the future of his family before he died.

After the programs were made and the family attired properly, we headed down. We made it to the house before anyone else was even dressed; I took my aunt, who had made all the arrangements, to the funeral home to make sure the body looked ok. Seeing the shell of the Giant from my youth lying still in the wooden box reminded me of the other two viewings i had been to in this very same funeral. We were greeted by one of the owners of the funeral home, who dealt with us very brusquely. We asked for his advice of where to put programs and flowers and pictures and the guest book we brought, and he pointed out that "the family was going to take care of all of that." As if, because we didn't pay enough, he couldn't deign to say "this is where people will come in." I understand these places offer their expertise as a service for hire, and i have no idea how much money was spent for their services to begin with, but it seems like someone in his business would have more tact than that. I felt like we were trapped in an episode of six feet under.

We decided, upon seeing the body, that the lips were too pink, and we asked to speak with the cosmetologist to correct it. We had to wait for an hour (an hour after the viewing started!) to speak to him. I decided that grandma should probably not come until after all the corrections were made. My father showed up when just my aunt and i were there. The three of us had a chance to grieve together, which was good. I hadn't had a chance just let go, and for some reason i felt comfortable doing it with them, and they needed to be able to do so as well. I had expected to have this experience with my dad when we first saw each other at the airport, but it didn't happen until we were both there in the presence of the lifeless husk of our shared ancestor. My aunt probably hadn't had a chance to let go since it happened, as she had busied herself with making the necessary arrangements. I can't say it felt good, but it certainly felt necessary.

I went back to the house and waited to take my grandmother to the viewing. She wanted to go near the end, and i can't say i blamed her at all. Andy had gotten very quesy in the early afternoon... Antonio had given us both a present in the form of a stomach bug. We're still recovering, and it peaked in intensity for Andy between the viewing and the Rosary. I think because i hadn't had much of an appetite and hadn't eaten that much, i was spared the worst of it. In any case, we ended up taking turns taking care of Antonio (along with my mom) during the Rosary: he refused to sit still or be quiet. We arrived too late for me to be a pallbearer, which made me a little sad. We had to leave immedately after the mass because of the sickness, and didn't get a chance to meet with the extended family... I would get to see them all the next day, which i will write about later.

Adeus, avô

2006-02-14T10:20:00.001-08:00

This past Sunday, February 12, 2006, my grandfather, Antonio, passed away. He's the first grandparent I've lost to death. While I am loathe to depict him as more loved than the other parents of my parents, he arguably has had the biggest effect on my outlook on life. My Omi in Switzerland taught me many things: don't put more food on your plate than you'll eat, wash the dishes when you're done, recycle, save when you can, and walk whenever possible. Opa is a little more distant, less hands-on. Avó Maria taught me things as well, but her way of looking at the world never really was echoed by my own heart.

While I don't speak that much Portuguese, I understand enough to know that as long as I've known him Avô Antonio never had a hateful or spiteful thing to say. Some of his notions regarding the unknowability of history (because, hey, were you there to see it? How do you know it really happened?) I found amusing. He gave a lot of time to contemplation; He had that understanding and empathy that so many people don't have, that allows you to see past the immediacy of situations and recognize life as a brief, fleeting opportunity to take care of one another.

Growing up, I always assumed that he had always been this way. When i was a toddler, he was a Giant to me. A Giant who always gave me a smile and a reassuring pat on the head or shoulders. A man stronger than any other i knew, and also gentler. He seemed to live utterly without fear. As I got older and started out on career paths that demanded long hours, and little time for family, he advised me to work to live, not live to work. I am told by family that the one time in my life i had been spanked, it was by his hand. Just a single swat from him was all it took for me to start behaving: not only on that day, but in perpetuity. Even in my young mind, I recognized that he wouldn't have struck me unless I had really done something wrong.

I discovered only much, much later in life that he hadn't always been this benevolent, kindhearted man. Stories i have heard of his youth are completely foreign to my conception of him. They are stories of an angry, even violent, man. Hearing these stories made me feel bad for my grandmother, my father, and his siblings. The more I thought about it, though, the more I appreciated the enormous change my grandfather made. He became someone completely different, in part because i think circumstances in his life forced him to reasses how he lived and behaved, the kind of example he set for the people around him.

He had devoted his life to caring for his daughter Alita, who is developmentally disabled and requires constant care. I think that drive is what kept his heart beating as long as it has, and I think in large part contributed to the dramatic changes he made in his outlook and treatment of others. His only concern in the last few years was taking care of her, and making sure that she would continue to be looked after when he died.

By accounts, he died in his sleep. He sat down in a comfy chair, dozed off, and for whatever reason, decided to stay asleep. When i first heard the news, it was described to me as "collapsing" followed by attempted resuscitation by the EMTs. I had, in my mind, imagined him walking down the hall and falling down... followed up by having current applied across his chest to try and get his heart to beat again. Not the peaceful end I had always imagined for him, but a frightening, painful struggle against the approaching end. It kept me up Sunday night, imagining my fearless, kind, strong grandfather scared and hurt at the end. To hear that he passed with a slight smile on his face put me at ease, and gives me some solace when i contemplate his absence in my life.

I will likely write more over the next couple of days as more thoughts come to me in my sobbing fits. I will talk about his numerous professions, his optimism, the effect aging had on his ability to be physically active. About his family and how much we'll all miss him.

Radio can be fun

2006-02-12T09:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Andy and i heard an ad for Mighty Leaf Tea and couldn't help laughing uncontrollably at various phrases used. We are children in big bodies, when "loose leaf," "mighty leaf teabags," and "full bodied flavor" all elicit howls. For those who haven't heard yet, Angie is going by Andy these days, in a long-desired effort to ungender her name. Most people i tell about this disagree that Andy is a gender-neutral name, but i think she's ok with it being on the masculine side. She's definitely planning on having chest surgery, but i think that's the extent of the body modification she's going to undergo. It's not that she wants to be a man, it's just that she doesn't feel the need to carry around a bunch of extra weight she finds utterly (udderly?) pointless. When Antonio is done with them, i think she will be, too.

Andy has fully recovered from her post-pregnancy-minor-complication surgery; She's
healthy enough to go to the Union hall to wait for work, and healthy enough to go to the gym and exercise, and go out on dates. She's really enjoying SF; not having to explain the term "poly" to people helps immensely.

New Year's Resolution

This year, i told myself, i will learn an instrument. For some reason, i feel the need to start at the beginning and learn to read sheet music. Progress is elusive: i know what the lines on the sheets of music represent, but i still have a hard time remembering the notation for note durations. When i was young, i knew this better than i know it now. I could even play a recorder reasonably near what the notes on the page instructed. Where did that go? The same place my fluent Portuguese went, i suppose. I hope that some remnant is buried in my brain, but i fear that it's all been flushed from memory.

On the other hand, i'm starting to remember c++, which is slightly more critical. I also have a great relationship with Antonio, which is highest on my list of priorities.

So that's what the ISO setting means!

It only took 14 months, but i've finally started using the manual features of my spiffy camera. I knew there had to be a way to take low-light pictures, i just never bothered tweaking the settings by hand. The camera does so much automatically, i figured "it will adjust for low light when i turn the flash off, right?" Well, not so much. That seems like something it should be easy to put into the software: Turn off the flash, bump up the ISO setting (which is the digital equivalent of having "faster" film). Alas, no. The next step is figuring out how to make that setting persistent, since most of my pictures are indoors and relatively low light.

focus

2005-12-14T17:56:00.000-08:00

I keep solving my colleague's issues in the process of failing to solve my own issues.

I wonder if this is a personality quirk more general to me that i'm only now noticing.

hello, blogger. goodbye, livejournal

2005-12-13T13:07:00.000-08:00

How now, brown diary.

The livejournal user experience sucks so much these days, that i thought i'd try the google-approved blogging solution (based on past good simple use case experiences).

Antonio's first birthday party vividly demonstrated my good fortune with extended family on Sunday. I couldn't be more thankful for the family and friends i have: Antonio almost certainly felt like the center of the universe, which is sometimes my goal as his father.

Back to work.