Sunday when we were driving home from Portland (and Mike Rabby's wedding), I heard a request on All Things Considered. Their Homework segment is an opportunity for listeners to speak up about something, and in this week's segment they asked folks to write in about a song that meant something to them. The timing couldn't have been better - I was thinking about this all weekend. I was compelled to write.
Here's what I sent them:
A few weeks before his wedding, my high school friend Mike told me he had put a song in the dance mix to remember Dawn, a friend of ours who had died. He wouldn't tell me what the song was, but he expected me to know. There was only one song for Dawn, and the memory of it playing still makes me laugh and cry.
Twenty years ago we were all high school seniors, finishing our last semester of school, writing for our school newspaper and getting ready for prom, graduation, and college. One day during a particularly intense deadline run, we all stopped, put on some music and just danced. I remember Dawn, full of life, on a desk with her bra swinging overhead to Erasure's A Little Respect. The joy was palpable, the future ahead of us. Nothing could stop us.
A few days after graduation, Dawn learned she had a brain tumor. That fall when we all left for school, Dawn stayed behind, resentful and hurt. She died before Christmas.
Two days ago I stood in the sweltering heat dressed to the nines, watching Mike dance with his new bride, still wondering if that would be the song. It was. When it came on, there was a dizzying moment that felt like I'd jumped off a building - and I ran to the dance floor, hugged him, and we laughed and cried the rest of the song.
Postscript:
Two days after I submitted this, I got a call from NPR. They recorded my story for the coming weekend's Homework selection, and I'm now waiting to see if it got selected for the on-air spot.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, November 16, 2007
NYC Weekend
I had a short visit to New York before we left for Missouri for Thanksgiving, and I got good time in with friends (and plenty of good food!). Photos as follows...
Friday, October 05, 2007
Tillman's Roadhouse
On a visit to Waco recently, we got to spend the night with Jessica and Jay, and they took us to a fun place in Dallas called Tillman’s Roadhouse. Imagine a fancified Shady Grove, if you know the place in Austin. It had a swanky bar with equally swanky cocktails (from the cocktail mistress Lucy Brennan), but it was really just an upscale hunting cabin, complete with animal heads hanging from the walls. The animal heads were wooden, and the room lighted with shabby-chic chandeliers, but you get the idea.When we were seated, the waiter brought two different snacks – fresh roasted Spanish peanuts and truffle popcorn. I think it was kettle cooked with white truffle oil
and then topped with a little shaved black truffle. It was the best popcorn I’d ever eaten and completely original.For appetizers, we shared a round of deep-fried pickles – they were closer to sweet pickles, not dill pickles – and they were served with homemade ketchup and horseradish mayo. To continue the fried theme, we had a trio of French fries: Peruvian purple potato, sweet potato and Yukon golds topped with a chile spice, smoked salt, and a rosemary garlic mixture respectively. Dinner was equally creative - the guys had chicken fried hanger steaks, Jessica had a supreme hamburger (with foie gras) and I had Frito pie, made with venison chili.
But dessert was where it was at. We four shared a little sterno-hibachi grill and made fresh s'mores from homemade marshmallows, homemade graham crackers and a nice, dark chocolate. Yum!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
I've lost count...
So many of my friends are having babies (or have just had them) that I'm losing count. I got away with my 20s and early 30s avoiding many weddings, engagement parties, and baby showers, but it seems to have just hit me pretty late.
As of this morning, I can think of 5 friends who have either just had or are about to burst forth a new person.
It's kind of a strange feeling - I get simultaneously curious/envious while also sort of realizing that might not be for me. Or rather, I'm just not sure we're willing to give up everything for that right now.
As of this morning, I can think of 5 friends who have either just had or are about to burst forth a new person.
It's kind of a strange feeling - I get simultaneously curious/envious while also sort of realizing that might not be for me. Or rather, I'm just not sure we're willing to give up everything for that right now.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Tripping Over Myself
Sometimes I don't really realize I can break my own fall. Problem is, I'm responsible for the pace at which I move, the clumsy footwork and the sometimes searing, sometimes blinded focus that gets me into trouble.
I said only last week that I was having trouble writing. My friend Geoff and I talked about this a bit - he's a comedian, and it turns out, has noticed this too. When everything's good, the well dries up. The bitter seems overly bitter, the ascerbic too sharp. He joked that the best comedians were addicts of some sort - alcohol, drugs, pain, whatever - and I'd have to argue the same for good writers. Not that I fall into that category, but I understand how it's difficult to get that clarity when your world is so blindingly happy. It's when life is interrupted that the words flow so effortlessly. When things come into sharp relief it's usually a sign that something's amiss, even if it's just a little off. Or that it's all hormonal and lunar. I'll give you that.
So it's time to brace myself. I can see the ground approaching only because I know I've gotten sloppy in my walk. I don't need to be in a hurry, sometimes I forget that that's not the goal. Yes, there is a goal, but that's not the point. I don't have some Britney-driving-towards-stardom hunger. Sometimes I need to just slow down. I'm sometimes startled by my own intensity, god know what this does to those around me. If it drives you as nuts as it drives me, I'm so thankful that you're still here.
I said only last week that I was having trouble writing. My friend Geoff and I talked about this a bit - he's a comedian, and it turns out, has noticed this too. When everything's good, the well dries up. The bitter seems overly bitter, the ascerbic too sharp. He joked that the best comedians were addicts of some sort - alcohol, drugs, pain, whatever - and I'd have to argue the same for good writers. Not that I fall into that category, but I understand how it's difficult to get that clarity when your world is so blindingly happy. It's when life is interrupted that the words flow so effortlessly. When things come into sharp relief it's usually a sign that something's amiss, even if it's just a little off. Or that it's all hormonal and lunar. I'll give you that.
So it's time to brace myself. I can see the ground approaching only because I know I've gotten sloppy in my walk. I don't need to be in a hurry, sometimes I forget that that's not the goal. Yes, there is a goal, but that's not the point. I don't have some Britney-driving-towards-stardom hunger. Sometimes I need to just slow down. I'm sometimes startled by my own intensity, god know what this does to those around me. If it drives you as nuts as it drives me, I'm so thankful that you're still here.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Getting Away
For the first time in a long time, I'm taking a day off to play. This week brings the first real break I've had since returning to Seattle from New York, and it's much deserved and much needed. Not that things aren't what I'd hoped they'd be here - they're better than I could have ever imagined - but we all need time away from the everyday, even here. So starting Friday morning I'm getting away from it all. Away from the office and its politics, away from the budget and the relocation plans, away from the phone and the computer. We're packing the (new!) car Friday morning and driving to the Oregon coast for some storm watching, some good dinners with friends, and some quiet.
In some ways I have the tiniest bit of anxiety about this weekend, if only because I may be the lone person who doesn't know (and have a history with) the others. Am I worried about comparisons? No. Compatibility? Nah, not really. Privacy? Eh, perhaps a little, but it's a big empty beach and a big house and it's only 2 nights. So no. But it's there, like a squeak in the attic somewhere - faint but noticeable nonetheless.
So what are we going to do out there? Well, this time of year the coast is supposedly deserted - it's windy, chilly, and stormy - so we'll spend some time watching storms roll in, taking in long sunsets, and perhaps catch a glimpse of the Milky Way if we get a clear night. There's a fireplace and a hot tub and we're about 100 yards from the surf so I expect plenty of clam digging and shell collecting too.
And of course I've already got a cheesy weepy book picked out - Marley and Me, by John Grogan. It's about a guy and his unruly Laborador Retriever. Not like the one who ate the woman's face in France, but one that's as loveable as he is mischevious. And of course it's a memoir and it's about a dog, so of course the dog dies in the end...but not until after he's changed the guy forever. A classic easy read, described by my friends as a Barnes and Noble book: one you read only while lounging in the big armchairs while 'shopping' at B&N because you'd never actually buy a hard back for full price even though you're dying to read the book (and you can't wait for it in paperback).
But I digress. This weekend is about centering, cleaning house and settling down. So in good spirit, I'm off to bed for a good night's sleep before my workday Friday is here. And then I can leave it all behind.
In some ways I have the tiniest bit of anxiety about this weekend, if only because I may be the lone person who doesn't know (and have a history with) the others. Am I worried about comparisons? No. Compatibility? Nah, not really. Privacy? Eh, perhaps a little, but it's a big empty beach and a big house and it's only 2 nights. So no. But it's there, like a squeak in the attic somewhere - faint but noticeable nonetheless.
So what are we going to do out there? Well, this time of year the coast is supposedly deserted - it's windy, chilly, and stormy - so we'll spend some time watching storms roll in, taking in long sunsets, and perhaps catch a glimpse of the Milky Way if we get a clear night. There's a fireplace and a hot tub and we're about 100 yards from the surf so I expect plenty of clam digging and shell collecting too.
And of course I've already got a cheesy weepy book picked out - Marley and Me, by John Grogan. It's about a guy and his unruly Laborador Retriever. Not like the one who ate the woman's face in France, but one that's as loveable as he is mischevious. And of course it's a memoir and it's about a dog, so of course the dog dies in the end...but not until after he's changed the guy forever. A classic easy read, described by my friends as a Barnes and Noble book: one you read only while lounging in the big armchairs while 'shopping' at B&N because you'd never actually buy a hard back for full price even though you're dying to read the book (and you can't wait for it in paperback).
But I digress. This weekend is about centering, cleaning house and settling down. So in good spirit, I'm off to bed for a good night's sleep before my workday Friday is here. And then I can leave it all behind.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Take a moment...
It's been raining for 27 days.
You'd think that's not such a big deal in Seattle, but it's actually a little unusual. Normally it's sort of drizzly and overcast, but it's been dark and cloudy for weeks now and the rain's come down hard. Pot holes have appeared, trees fallen over and venues sparse because folks are tired of going out drenched. Today was actually the first day I woke up and it wasn't raining - the sun's shining and the air is crisp. We got up and took the dog to the Magnuson park - off-leash heaven - and celebrated with all of the other cabin-fevered Seattlites by getting out in the mud. The dogs went nuts...mud everywhere with barking and frothing and humping from the biggest mastiff to the teacup chihuahuas. There was so much life in the park this morning, I almost cried at how happy the dog looked to be running at his own pace. And then there was this moment when I watched the dog walking alongside Todd - about 25 yards ahead - I watched them walk and play and the dog looked up at him, he looked back at me...and that was it. My dog, my shadow and my security standing with my guy, my hopes and my dreams. And I laughed at it all, the sweetness and the absurdity of such happiness.
But the sun comes out only briefly.
Just two days ago I was reading a friend's blog when I stumbled on writings about his father. His dad, a young 62 (just a few years older than my dad) was diagnosed with fronto temporal dementia (FTD) in May of 2004 - and is now no longer the person he once was. This is the first Christmas that he thought of it as being without his dad, because he sits in the room but is no more. He is like a shell of the person he once was, and if my friend listens closely he can almost hear the echoes of his voice in the hollow of his chest. His writing was powerful, the descriptions of his mother unforgettable. We talked about his dad for the first time the next day at work, and listening to him reflect on death gave me respect for the struggle his family faces daily. For all that medicine has given us, it rarely treats those most afflicted - the family.
In this state of mind I found myself at lunch with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in nearly 4 years. He too was facing similar struggles - his mother had a stroke 27 months ago and his father's dementia is like a prison sentence from which there is no release. He comes to work each day so he can afford to take care of them, but at about 6 hours he starts to worry that his father might have forgotten to feed his mother, or worse yet, that he's burned down the house. His only solace from this is Moon, the Golden Retriever his brother left him during a relocation to Hawaii - and I have no doubt that this fragile balance wouldn't be possible without that dog. None but he and the dog will escape, and even they too will succumb eventually. But for now he walks for the parents who cared for him as a child, the dog keeping watch on him.
Only two months ago I was wrapped up in living in New York, my sphere concerned with survival. It's been quiet these last weeks safe from the City, hearing things for the first time - the marvelous texture that has become my life, the privilege I have in the friends I keep, their experiences a borrowed perspective that shapes the person I will be.
You'd think that's not such a big deal in Seattle, but it's actually a little unusual. Normally it's sort of drizzly and overcast, but it's been dark and cloudy for weeks now and the rain's come down hard. Pot holes have appeared, trees fallen over and venues sparse because folks are tired of going out drenched. Today was actually the first day I woke up and it wasn't raining - the sun's shining and the air is crisp. We got up and took the dog to the Magnuson park - off-leash heaven - and celebrated with all of the other cabin-fevered Seattlites by getting out in the mud. The dogs went nuts...mud everywhere with barking and frothing and humping from the biggest mastiff to the teacup chihuahuas. There was so much life in the park this morning, I almost cried at how happy the dog looked to be running at his own pace. And then there was this moment when I watched the dog walking alongside Todd - about 25 yards ahead - I watched them walk and play and the dog looked up at him, he looked back at me...and that was it. My dog, my shadow and my security standing with my guy, my hopes and my dreams. And I laughed at it all, the sweetness and the absurdity of such happiness.
But the sun comes out only briefly.
Just two days ago I was reading a friend's blog when I stumbled on writings about his father. His dad, a young 62 (just a few years older than my dad) was diagnosed with fronto temporal dementia (FTD) in May of 2004 - and is now no longer the person he once was. This is the first Christmas that he thought of it as being without his dad, because he sits in the room but is no more. He is like a shell of the person he once was, and if my friend listens closely he can almost hear the echoes of his voice in the hollow of his chest. His writing was powerful, the descriptions of his mother unforgettable. We talked about his dad for the first time the next day at work, and listening to him reflect on death gave me respect for the struggle his family faces daily. For all that medicine has given us, it rarely treats those most afflicted - the family.
In this state of mind I found myself at lunch with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in nearly 4 years. He too was facing similar struggles - his mother had a stroke 27 months ago and his father's dementia is like a prison sentence from which there is no release. He comes to work each day so he can afford to take care of them, but at about 6 hours he starts to worry that his father might have forgotten to feed his mother, or worse yet, that he's burned down the house. His only solace from this is Moon, the Golden Retriever his brother left him during a relocation to Hawaii - and I have no doubt that this fragile balance wouldn't be possible without that dog. None but he and the dog will escape, and even they too will succumb eventually. But for now he walks for the parents who cared for him as a child, the dog keeping watch on him.
Only two months ago I was wrapped up in living in New York, my sphere concerned with survival. It's been quiet these last weeks safe from the City, hearing things for the first time - the marvelous texture that has become my life, the privilege I have in the friends I keep, their experiences a borrowed perspective that shapes the person I will be.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
To Go With the Cookies I Left For You...
Remember writing Santa Letters? I think I stopped writing them when I was a kid - Santa was never an illusion to me, but it was a sweet tradition. In high school we could pay for column space in the paper to write Santa Letters. I think I had one of the longest in the paper that year, my crowning wish was that kiss from Bill Wilder, #51 on our high school football team.
I thought this was a good year to revisit the Santa Letter. There are things I wish for my friends and family that I never really have the chance to say, so Santa-in-blogland will bear witness (witless?) to this year's long list. I'll try not to get maudlin.
To el numero uno, my shadow and my conscience, my approver and sweet companion, I wish my little dog good skin, good health, and more QT with me. And I suppose I owe him cookies this year too. He turns 11 next week on New Year's Eve.
To Tanarra, the best friend and best bar fight backup I know, there isn't anything I could wish for you that you won't make happen yourself. I know this - we come from the same stock. But, if I can help bring some peace and tranquility to that world of yours, it would make me very happy - and I think you too.
Jessica will get her pilot's license and her Pilot's license to be ridiculously happy too. And Jay, you make a mess over there and I'll personally fly down there and stomp you. So be good to her, she deserves it. I'm watching.
Shana, the simplest gift would be a red latex corset. In lieu of that, my friend, may this coming year bring you the answers you seek and the clarity to recognize them. Take time, you have lots of it and lots of life. And Justin, I know you're reading this - I see a lot of myself in her at her age, and if I say so myself, she's going to get even better. Just watch.
Eric, thank you for everything this year. You helped me make Seattle home again and for that I cannot thank you enough. But man, we have to find you someone who loves that salt and pepper beard as much as she loves everything you cook for her. Because you are far too good a catch to walk alone.
Leslie, I hope John Galt walks up to your Virginia cabin and sweeps you off your feet. He'll have in tow a dog and the secrets of the universe. That's your clue. In the meantime, get the hell out of New York.
Bill in the Carolinas - you and I have gotten the best gift of all, space. Everything is clear. If you're half as happy as I am, I couldn't wish any better for you. Thank you for always being there for me. I hope to always be there for you too.
Bill and Tuesday, happy first Christmas you married people. May this be the first of a lifetime of bowling and green stuff.
Erin and Eric, the other marrieds - I hope this holiday brings you the complete happiness that I saw in both your eyes the day I witnessed your vows. Take care of each other. Erin, let him spoil you rotten.
Eric and Edith, my Nick and Nora in New York...toasts to you, and good toasts. I walked past the Zig Zag yesterday (Brian, the bartender from Pegu poured mixers from there) and shuddered. Come visit, I'll take you to the mythical pork sandwich in heaven.
Mike, know what you have. Set yourself a plan and get on it because I promise that first step is a doozy, but after that it's not so bad. Your kids will love you always. They may not understand for a while, but they will in time.
Robert, dude, I miss you. You are one of the funniest people I've ever met and I just want the very best for you so you can keep making other people laugh.
Shay, be good. This year has brought a lot of changes for you. Take time to understand them and grow from the things you've learned about yourself and about other people. You are amazing and beautiful. Don't ever give that away.
Winter, I'm so happy to have met you - and I see great things for you. You're just getting started - embrace everything, learn and become the person you're destined to be. And I hope next time I see you, you still don't recognize me. Means I'm changing too!
Lynn, your presence on the team brings balance - I'm always in awe of your composure and your self-effacing manner. Thank you for listening and always being true to who you are.
Cherish, the last years have been so hard, but you have come though with grace and style. There are few people I wish I could be more like, and I am so happy to have your friendship. Grendel loves you too.
Lowell, you are not forgotten. Your strength comes from a place I don't know - you too have walked the path of fire and seem to have come away singed but stronger for it. Like a good piece of iron.
Johnson, keep working on yourself. You have far to go. And tell your mother you love her, she deserves it.
Pedro, now that you're out of school it's time to start your education. Protect your heart, but open it to those who love you. And listen to yourself. You haven't gotten here without reason, so trust yourself.
Jeff, like T, I've never imagined you not getting what you set yourself out to get. Think big, you can get it.
Frank and Keith - stop going to SAP meetings. If the system utterly shuts down, then someone will have to step up and find a way to help the broken system. As long as you keep it on life support, it will never be allowed to fail or survive on its own.
Joe, Garden City. Time with your princess and her mom. Teach her to swing a bat properly. She'll be such a looker when she gets older. She'll have to use those bat swinging skills to keep guys away, and only bring home the ones to Papa that know how to handle her and the bat.
Everyone else, you know who you are. May this holiday season bring you the comfort you all so richly deserve. If it doesn't come visit me here. I'll show you the grass is in fact greener. :-)
And Mark, I am so proud of you my brother. I could get you stuff (I know you want an XBOX 360, but come on), but why should I when you seem to have everything that makes you happy? I just wish I could spend some time with you in your town, enjoying food like we used to eat when I was there, listening to music and driving around. Mom said you bought dinner for the whole family last night - wow. Bet they never expected that.
And last, but certainly not least, Todd.
I don't even know where to start. You have brought something into my life that was entirely unexpected, and I am speechless for it. There's so much I want to give you, I would cheese out everyone reading this if I started listing things out. So you'll have to settle for me, take who I am and what I bring into your heart and decide if this works for you. This is just the beginning, but I hope the beginning of something remarkable and true.
Remember in your hearts all of those who lost this year, lost so much.
Everyone, Merry Christmas. I love you all.
I thought this was a good year to revisit the Santa Letter. There are things I wish for my friends and family that I never really have the chance to say, so Santa-in-blogland will bear witness (witless?) to this year's long list. I'll try not to get maudlin.
To el numero uno, my shadow and my conscience, my approver and sweet companion, I wish my little dog good skin, good health, and more QT with me. And I suppose I owe him cookies this year too. He turns 11 next week on New Year's Eve.
To Tanarra, the best friend and best bar fight backup I know, there isn't anything I could wish for you that you won't make happen yourself. I know this - we come from the same stock. But, if I can help bring some peace and tranquility to that world of yours, it would make me very happy - and I think you too.
Jessica will get her pilot's license and her Pilot's license to be ridiculously happy too. And Jay, you make a mess over there and I'll personally fly down there and stomp you. So be good to her, she deserves it. I'm watching.
Shana, the simplest gift would be a red latex corset. In lieu of that, my friend, may this coming year bring you the answers you seek and the clarity to recognize them. Take time, you have lots of it and lots of life. And Justin, I know you're reading this - I see a lot of myself in her at her age, and if I say so myself, she's going to get even better. Just watch.
Eric, thank you for everything this year. You helped me make Seattle home again and for that I cannot thank you enough. But man, we have to find you someone who loves that salt and pepper beard as much as she loves everything you cook for her. Because you are far too good a catch to walk alone.
Leslie, I hope John Galt walks up to your Virginia cabin and sweeps you off your feet. He'll have in tow a dog and the secrets of the universe. That's your clue. In the meantime, get the hell out of New York.
Bill in the Carolinas - you and I have gotten the best gift of all, space. Everything is clear. If you're half as happy as I am, I couldn't wish any better for you. Thank you for always being there for me. I hope to always be there for you too.
Bill and Tuesday, happy first Christmas you married people. May this be the first of a lifetime of bowling and green stuff.
Erin and Eric, the other marrieds - I hope this holiday brings you the complete happiness that I saw in both your eyes the day I witnessed your vows. Take care of each other. Erin, let him spoil you rotten.
Eric and Edith, my Nick and Nora in New York...toasts to you, and good toasts. I walked past the Zig Zag yesterday (Brian, the bartender from Pegu poured mixers from there) and shuddered. Come visit, I'll take you to the mythical pork sandwich in heaven.
Mike, know what you have. Set yourself a plan and get on it because I promise that first step is a doozy, but after that it's not so bad. Your kids will love you always. They may not understand for a while, but they will in time.
Robert, dude, I miss you. You are one of the funniest people I've ever met and I just want the very best for you so you can keep making other people laugh.
Shay, be good. This year has brought a lot of changes for you. Take time to understand them and grow from the things you've learned about yourself and about other people. You are amazing and beautiful. Don't ever give that away.
Winter, I'm so happy to have met you - and I see great things for you. You're just getting started - embrace everything, learn and become the person you're destined to be. And I hope next time I see you, you still don't recognize me. Means I'm changing too!
Lynn, your presence on the team brings balance - I'm always in awe of your composure and your self-effacing manner. Thank you for listening and always being true to who you are.
Cherish, the last years have been so hard, but you have come though with grace and style. There are few people I wish I could be more like, and I am so happy to have your friendship. Grendel loves you too.
Lowell, you are not forgotten. Your strength comes from a place I don't know - you too have walked the path of fire and seem to have come away singed but stronger for it. Like a good piece of iron.
Johnson, keep working on yourself. You have far to go. And tell your mother you love her, she deserves it.
Pedro, now that you're out of school it's time to start your education. Protect your heart, but open it to those who love you. And listen to yourself. You haven't gotten here without reason, so trust yourself.
Jeff, like T, I've never imagined you not getting what you set yourself out to get. Think big, you can get it.
Frank and Keith - stop going to SAP meetings. If the system utterly shuts down, then someone will have to step up and find a way to help the broken system. As long as you keep it on life support, it will never be allowed to fail or survive on its own.
Joe, Garden City. Time with your princess and her mom. Teach her to swing a bat properly. She'll be such a looker when she gets older. She'll have to use those bat swinging skills to keep guys away, and only bring home the ones to Papa that know how to handle her and the bat.
Everyone else, you know who you are. May this holiday season bring you the comfort you all so richly deserve. If it doesn't come visit me here. I'll show you the grass is in fact greener. :-)
And Mark, I am so proud of you my brother. I could get you stuff (I know you want an XBOX 360, but come on), but why should I when you seem to have everything that makes you happy? I just wish I could spend some time with you in your town, enjoying food like we used to eat when I was there, listening to music and driving around. Mom said you bought dinner for the whole family last night - wow. Bet they never expected that.
And last, but certainly not least, Todd.
I don't even know where to start. You have brought something into my life that was entirely unexpected, and I am speechless for it. There's so much I want to give you, I would cheese out everyone reading this if I started listing things out. So you'll have to settle for me, take who I am and what I bring into your heart and decide if this works for you. This is just the beginning, but I hope the beginning of something remarkable and true.
Remember in your hearts all of those who lost this year, lost so much.
Everyone, Merry Christmas. I love you all.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Notes from the Jar O' Wisdom
[Note from the editor: The spelling and grammar and sentence construction you see are those of the authors. And many of them were intoxicated when they wrote these. I am taking no responsibility for how insulting and rude these are...deal with it. These folks are your friends too. And by the way – for those who wrote in our book – you folks need to learn how to construct a story! I can’t put that stuff in here – Tanarra the toothless stripper and my jaunt across America with Lenny Kravitz. Man, no more alcohol for you fools!]
I am beginning to understand that the 'purpose' involved in this trip is not what is gained in the actual traveling. This part is fun in the experience and adventure it provides. But the real 'meaning' of the trip does not begin until it is over. It is then that all the experience transforms into memory, and then the memory is reflected against and contrasted with past memories to form 'perspective.' With this perspective we now see our lives through new eyes, and things seem fresh again. We are focused and clear of mind. - Brian Overcast, June 2, 2000
Quotes from Brian and Shawn Overcast's road trip journal:
What animal has the largest eyes?
- Giant squid
(trivia from a guy at a bar in Albuquerque)
Go soothingly on the greasy mud, for therein lurks the skid demon.
- Chinese road sign
Everything in life is someplace else, and you get there in a car.
- E. B. White
Sometimes the miles just disappear but sometimes you have to drive every single one of them.
- Graham Coster
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
- Grateful Dead
Make sure you always have 1/4 of a tank of gas especially when there might be traffic and you could run out.
Eat salmon.
Get a radar detector because Tanarra is a speed demon!
If you have to drive +500 miles per day, don’t do it drunk. If the conversation stops for 40 seconds after 12:00 midnight on the road, STOP...
STUPID: Play different characters at each dinner stop. Not allowed to do one sentence in your ‘own voice.’ Play each other at the 1/2 way dinner stop.
Good luck! - from Ive (attached to a chocolate turkey)
Sharepoint can do it, you just have to make it do it... - Brian Vaughan, IT Server Engineer
Visit the San Juans.
When life gets tough...MASTERBATE! Nothing like a good old fashion orgasim [sic] to clear your mind. - Sherryon :)
Your true friends know you better, in the first moments that you meet, than your acquaintances will in a lifetime. [ed: I think I know the author of this one...]
Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans. [ed: I think this is John Lennon’s line...]
DENZIL [ed: he leaves his phone number and e-mail address]
If you get the chance, live on a boat.
Tell a secret to the Northern Star. [ed: I did, while driving through South Dakota.]
Do you think he was really gay? [ed: I have no idea about whom this note was written...]
[there’s an incredibly sexy mathematical proof in here...I can’t transcribe it because I don’t have the right keys...]
Go slow, take it all in, immerse yourself. It’s your life to live...
Easy on the teeth. Ouch. [ed: same handwriting as ‘Do you think he was really gay.’ Hmm.]
A man whose watch falls in the toilet will have shitty time.
You told me...Remember that sometimes you need to finish/close projects. I’m reminding you your same words.
Never trust a girl who doesn’t eat meat. Ever.
Se habla espanol. Amor de lejos, es amor de pendejos.
Cut Shana off after 2 drinks next time! Please! Thanks, Shana :) [ed: NOTED!!]
Sing a favorite song at the top of your lungs. [ed: I know I know who wrote this!]
Jenny, don’t forget your ‘b----- b----- d------!’ Love, Danny [ed: how could I?]
Words of an optimist: I don’t know where I am going, but I am on my way!
Watch a French New Wave film from the ‘50s. [ed: Leslie, you are the only spiritual one on here...]
When in doubt...use teeth.
Only look up at the rain with goggles on.
Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. When you get a nasty one spit that motherfucker out and try another. -Winter/Forrest Gump
Don’t eat yellow snow. [ed: man, I’m so glad I have you guys as friends!]
Make sure you eat lunch and a snack to avoide low sugar crankiness. [ed: thanks, Mom]
Never trust a Mormon. Ever.
Pirates and Sir Mixalot: All about the booty.
French fries and a hamburger can make almost any situation a little better.
‘The best way to predict the future is to create it.’ - Stephen Covey You are creating your future & I couldn’t be happier for you. - Love, Erin
Don’t stand next to a man peeing when the wind is blowing in your direction. [ed: unless you’re into that sort of thing]
NEVER APOLOGIZE for being true to yourself (your feelings, desires...) :)
LUBE! Lots of LUBE!
Do you know what the queers are doing to the ozone?
There are four major moments in your relationship to NYC:
When you first see it
When you move there
When you move away
When you return as a jaded visitor
‘been there, done that, know which train’
Never pay a tranny.
With shoes, and people you’re attracted to for that matter, if you say no and then can’t stop thinking about it for three days, just go for it.
Remember...just because I understand doesn’t mean I care!
Always put your money on the black donkey.
Don’t take the path most traveled. Find your own way and leave a trail. [ed: I corrected the grammar on this one because it was such a nice sentiment!]
I am beginning to understand that the 'purpose' involved in this trip is not what is gained in the actual traveling. This part is fun in the experience and adventure it provides. But the real 'meaning' of the trip does not begin until it is over. It is then that all the experience transforms into memory, and then the memory is reflected against and contrasted with past memories to form 'perspective.' With this perspective we now see our lives through new eyes, and things seem fresh again. We are focused and clear of mind. - Brian Overcast, June 2, 2000
Quotes from Brian and Shawn Overcast's road trip journal:
What animal has the largest eyes?
- Giant squid
(trivia from a guy at a bar in Albuquerque)
Go soothingly on the greasy mud, for therein lurks the skid demon.
- Chinese road sign
Everything in life is someplace else, and you get there in a car.
- E. B. White
Sometimes the miles just disappear but sometimes you have to drive every single one of them.
- Graham Coster
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
- Grateful Dead
Make sure you always have 1/4 of a tank of gas especially when there might be traffic and you could run out.
Eat salmon.
Get a radar detector because Tanarra is a speed demon!
If you have to drive +500 miles per day, don’t do it drunk. If the conversation stops for 40 seconds after 12:00 midnight on the road, STOP...
STUPID: Play different characters at each dinner stop. Not allowed to do one sentence in your ‘own voice.’ Play each other at the 1/2 way dinner stop.
Good luck! - from Ive (attached to a chocolate turkey)
Sharepoint can do it, you just have to make it do it... - Brian Vaughan, IT Server Engineer
Visit the San Juans.
When life gets tough...MASTERBATE! Nothing like a good old fashion orgasim [sic] to clear your mind. - Sherryon :)
Your true friends know you better, in the first moments that you meet, than your acquaintances will in a lifetime. [ed: I think I know the author of this one...]
Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans. [ed: I think this is John Lennon’s line...]
DENZIL [ed: he leaves his phone number and e-mail address]
If you get the chance, live on a boat.
Tell a secret to the Northern Star. [ed: I did, while driving through South Dakota.]
Do you think he was really gay? [ed: I have no idea about whom this note was written...]
[there’s an incredibly sexy mathematical proof in here...I can’t transcribe it because I don’t have the right keys...]
Go slow, take it all in, immerse yourself. It’s your life to live...
Easy on the teeth. Ouch. [ed: same handwriting as ‘Do you think he was really gay.’ Hmm.]
A man whose watch falls in the toilet will have shitty time.
You told me...Remember that sometimes you need to finish/close projects. I’m reminding you your same words.
Never trust a girl who doesn’t eat meat. Ever.
Se habla espanol. Amor de lejos, es amor de pendejos.
Cut Shana off after 2 drinks next time! Please! Thanks, Shana :) [ed: NOTED!!]
Sing a favorite song at the top of your lungs. [ed: I know I know who wrote this!]
Jenny, don’t forget your ‘b----- b----- d------!’ Love, Danny [ed: how could I?]
Words of an optimist: I don’t know where I am going, but I am on my way!
Watch a French New Wave film from the ‘50s. [ed: Leslie, you are the only spiritual one on here...]
When in doubt...use teeth.
Only look up at the rain with goggles on.
Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. When you get a nasty one spit that motherfucker out and try another. -Winter/Forrest Gump
Don’t eat yellow snow. [ed: man, I’m so glad I have you guys as friends!]
Make sure you eat lunch and a snack to avoide low sugar crankiness. [ed: thanks, Mom]
Never trust a Mormon. Ever.
Pirates and Sir Mixalot: All about the booty.
French fries and a hamburger can make almost any situation a little better.
‘The best way to predict the future is to create it.’ - Stephen Covey You are creating your future & I couldn’t be happier for you. - Love, Erin
Don’t stand next to a man peeing when the wind is blowing in your direction. [ed: unless you’re into that sort of thing]
NEVER APOLOGIZE for being true to yourself (your feelings, desires...) :)
LUBE! Lots of LUBE!
Do you know what the queers are doing to the ozone?
There are four major moments in your relationship to NYC:
When you first see it
When you move there
When you move away
When you return as a jaded visitor
‘been there, done that, know which train’
Never pay a tranny.
With shoes, and people you’re attracted to for that matter, if you say no and then can’t stop thinking about it for three days, just go for it.
Remember...just because I understand doesn’t mean I care!
Always put your money on the black donkey.
Don’t take the path most traveled. Find your own way and leave a trail. [ed: I corrected the grammar on this one because it was such a nice sentiment!]
Sunday, December 04, 2005
It's Been a Week Already?
Seems like I just arrived.
I'm still running into tons of folks - at this rate I will have seen all of my friends here without effort.
- Bill and Tuesday, the couple for whom Tanarra and I built a wedding cake in May. I'll be spending Christmas with the newlyweds. Ran into them while eating dinner nearby.
- Steve Schmitt, the guitarist and self-anointed brain surgeon of the Diminished Men, Tyler's former band. Saw him while shopping for olive oil. Check out their stuff: http://www.diminishedmen.com!
- Erica Brewer, the newly-minted fiancee of Peter Johansen - a childhood friend of Tyler's. She's a classy violinist in the area and has plenty of upcoming shows: http://www.thebellatrio.com/erica. She was on her way to the grocery store, I was out for a walk.
I did make an effort to spend Friday evening in the company of some great bakers, Bennie and Emma, without whom I would be in a lonely island of sugar and butter. We ate lots of tasty food at the Black Bottle and caught up on the last year.
Work is...just work. There's something strange about working in a team that is made up entirely of contractors. None of us has enough information to be dangerous - so there's little incentive to take a project and run with it. I'm working on a project that has well over a hundred other people working on it - and at the end of the day all I am is a little cog. Where that would have driven me crazy in the past, I'm quite happy to surrender the reigns on this one. It doesn't mean I won't do my best, but it does mean that in the end there's a very clear line of ownership and I simply don't count in the grand scheme of it. So when someone tells me it's time to go home, I go. I don't sweat it, there's plenty of work tomorrow. That is different.
Another notable change is the makeup of the office. I walked in and it was instantly noticeable. I walked down the hall and heads came out of the office, whispering, 'a girl, did you see that? another girl!' I mean, it wasn't quite that silly, but there's a meat market quality to working in this industry, especially when the ratio is still 8:1. Gotta start flexing those eyelash batting muscles!
I'm still running into tons of folks - at this rate I will have seen all of my friends here without effort.
- Bill and Tuesday, the couple for whom Tanarra and I built a wedding cake in May. I'll be spending Christmas with the newlyweds. Ran into them while eating dinner nearby.
- Steve Schmitt, the guitarist and self-anointed brain surgeon of the Diminished Men, Tyler's former band. Saw him while shopping for olive oil. Check out their stuff: http://www.diminishedmen.com!
- Erica Brewer, the newly-minted fiancee of Peter Johansen - a childhood friend of Tyler's. She's a classy violinist in the area and has plenty of upcoming shows: http://www.thebellatrio.com/erica. She was on her way to the grocery store, I was out for a walk.
I did make an effort to spend Friday evening in the company of some great bakers, Bennie and Emma, without whom I would be in a lonely island of sugar and butter. We ate lots of tasty food at the Black Bottle and caught up on the last year.
Work is...just work. There's something strange about working in a team that is made up entirely of contractors. None of us has enough information to be dangerous - so there's little incentive to take a project and run with it. I'm working on a project that has well over a hundred other people working on it - and at the end of the day all I am is a little cog. Where that would have driven me crazy in the past, I'm quite happy to surrender the reigns on this one. It doesn't mean I won't do my best, but it does mean that in the end there's a very clear line of ownership and I simply don't count in the grand scheme of it. So when someone tells me it's time to go home, I go. I don't sweat it, there's plenty of work tomorrow. That is different.
Another notable change is the makeup of the office. I walked in and it was instantly noticeable. I walked down the hall and heads came out of the office, whispering, 'a girl, did you see that? another girl!' I mean, it wasn't quite that silly, but there's a meat market quality to working in this industry, especially when the ratio is still 8:1. Gotta start flexing those eyelash batting muscles!
Monday, November 14, 2005
Huh? But it's just November
What's that you say? It can't be. No, I thought she said the spring!
Actually, it's true. Whatever the little birdie or the butthole pixie told you is in fact the truth. I'm returning to Seattle. And soon, I might add - I will be back before December, although barely. And yes, for all of you naysayers - to stay.
How'd this come about?
Lots of things contributed to it, but many of you read my Manhattan Project e-mail from late summer and knew it was coming. I was just ready to come home, and when the right offer came along I took it.
What about JetBlue? What about your friends in NY? What about all of that?
I love JetBlue. This is a fantastic company, I wholly believe in the product, and I hope to support it for as long as I can. I'm even offering to work on projects for them on the side. But this isn't about work and it's not about friends. It's about me being happy where I am living, and frankly New York just wasn't doing it for me. I've spent a lot of time elsewhere in the last few months - on a kayak in Florida, hiking on property outside of (gasp!) Waco (actually, double-gasp - it was outside of Crawford), even in Seattle. The more time I spent in New York the more I realized there were things about it that would never work for me, and I just didn't want to do it anymore.
And what about school? Weren't you starting this fall?
I was scheduled to start a Masters in Gastronomy program this fall at Boston University. I was working through my financial aid forms and thought, 'hmm - 5 years to finish the program and I'll be 40, $35000 more in debt, commuting weekly to Boston and I'll have lived 5 more years in a place I can't stand. Is this a good idea?' Just because it didn't work for me here doesn't mean I can't make it work somewhere else.
When's this all happening?
I'm leaving New York early in the morning of 11/23 and my good friend Tanarra and I are driving Grendel across the country. We should arrive in Seattle somewhere around the 27th or 28th.
Where are you going to live? What are you going to do?
Not to worry, I have got a cunning plan. I turned to my good friend Holly for the answer to the housing question...I'll be back on Capitol Hill beginning 12/1 in yet another unit in the kidney (for those who don't know, that's the Malden), my fourth apartment there. For work, I got a contract gig in Redmond.
Are you baking?
Well, not really. After some really difficult baking jobs over the last year, I'm taking a break from the whole thing. I'd like to get back to doing it because it makes me happy, not because there's a deadline or a paycheck at the end of it. For now, I'll bake for friends and just little things, but no more formal affairs. Sadly, that puts me out of the running for Bethany's cake in February, but I'm hoping to make amends to her and her lovely husband-to-be by baking something just for them.
Are you bringing any other baggage back with you?
No kids, no men, only a new mattress. Movers will pick that up sometime at the end of December, along with a few other things I accumulated. For now, only personal effects and the dog. So no, no new baggage. Oh yeah, and the random brick-throwing habit I picked up when I'm honked at by a car. You have been warned.
So what's your plan?
For now, get back and get comfortable. Pay down debt, think about buying. Yes, that means laying down roots. Get more dogs. Find someone. You know, all of the usual things. But working to live, not living to work.
When can we get together?
Give me the first week of December to get my bearings, to buy some things for the empty apartment, and to figure out much money I'll have left in my account. And then, I'll make soup and whomever wants to come over can come and sit on my wooden floors and visit. And for all of you who haven't lived in NYC, the send-offs are long and liquor-filled. I've already sworn off drinking for the rest of my stay here after a little game of dodge-car and getting-to-know-your-vomit-container. So forgive me for my teetotaling. It won't last forever.
Much love to everyone and have a happy Thanksgiving. I'll see you soon.
Actually, it's true. Whatever the little birdie or the butthole pixie told you is in fact the truth. I'm returning to Seattle. And soon, I might add - I will be back before December, although barely. And yes, for all of you naysayers - to stay.
How'd this come about?
Lots of things contributed to it, but many of you read my Manhattan Project e-mail from late summer and knew it was coming. I was just ready to come home, and when the right offer came along I took it.
What about JetBlue? What about your friends in NY? What about all of that?
I love JetBlue. This is a fantastic company, I wholly believe in the product, and I hope to support it for as long as I can. I'm even offering to work on projects for them on the side. But this isn't about work and it's not about friends. It's about me being happy where I am living, and frankly New York just wasn't doing it for me. I've spent a lot of time elsewhere in the last few months - on a kayak in Florida, hiking on property outside of (gasp!) Waco (actually, double-gasp - it was outside of Crawford), even in Seattle. The more time I spent in New York the more I realized there were things about it that would never work for me, and I just didn't want to do it anymore.
And what about school? Weren't you starting this fall?
I was scheduled to start a Masters in Gastronomy program this fall at Boston University. I was working through my financial aid forms and thought, 'hmm - 5 years to finish the program and I'll be 40, $35000 more in debt, commuting weekly to Boston and I'll have lived 5 more years in a place I can't stand. Is this a good idea?' Just because it didn't work for me here doesn't mean I can't make it work somewhere else.
When's this all happening?
I'm leaving New York early in the morning of 11/23 and my good friend Tanarra and I are driving Grendel across the country. We should arrive in Seattle somewhere around the 27th or 28th.
Where are you going to live? What are you going to do?
Not to worry, I have got a cunning plan. I turned to my good friend Holly for the answer to the housing question...I'll be back on Capitol Hill beginning 12/1 in yet another unit in the kidney (for those who don't know, that's the Malden), my fourth apartment there. For work, I got a contract gig in Redmond.
Are you baking?
Well, not really. After some really difficult baking jobs over the last year, I'm taking a break from the whole thing. I'd like to get back to doing it because it makes me happy, not because there's a deadline or a paycheck at the end of it. For now, I'll bake for friends and just little things, but no more formal affairs. Sadly, that puts me out of the running for Bethany's cake in February, but I'm hoping to make amends to her and her lovely husband-to-be by baking something just for them.
Are you bringing any other baggage back with you?
No kids, no men, only a new mattress. Movers will pick that up sometime at the end of December, along with a few other things I accumulated. For now, only personal effects and the dog. So no, no new baggage. Oh yeah, and the random brick-throwing habit I picked up when I'm honked at by a car. You have been warned.
So what's your plan?
For now, get back and get comfortable. Pay down debt, think about buying. Yes, that means laying down roots. Get more dogs. Find someone. You know, all of the usual things. But working to live, not living to work.
When can we get together?
Give me the first week of December to get my bearings, to buy some things for the empty apartment, and to figure out much money I'll have left in my account. And then, I'll make soup and whomever wants to come over can come and sit on my wooden floors and visit. And for all of you who haven't lived in NYC, the send-offs are long and liquor-filled. I've already sworn off drinking for the rest of my stay here after a little game of dodge-car and getting-to-know-your-vomit-container. So forgive me for my teetotaling. It won't last forever.
Much love to everyone and have a happy Thanksgiving. I'll see you soon.
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