Knot Proficient

Its been a while...

2009-10-06T21:09:00.001-07:00

I can't believe its October already. The Redondo Beach trip is coming up, followed by the departure of the Lynx to the East Coast. I've got mixed feelings about that. I think its great that they get a chance to make this trip...but the Lynx was the first tallship I'd spent any time around, and I'll miss her. My decision to move in to the house in Newport after I'd graduated was made shortly after watching her sail into the harbor at sunset. But it is what it is. Maybe this means we'll get to play with the Spirit of Dana Point from time to time.

I'm revisiting things that happened last [school] year. One of the teachers at SEMS commissioned me to build a 'tree' for her cats. I can honestly say that this was one of the most difficult projects I have ever taken on. I'm still not convinced that I did it right. But sometimes there is only so much you can do with a coping saw and a cheap drill. And her cats really like it.

Santa Barbara Island, Anacapa Island

2009-07-11T16:42:00.000-07:00

We left San Diego with a few formalities under our belt. The passengers were welcomed on as Expedition Crew, and we were all divided up between three watches. Each watch stood time during the day, and during the night and it was the same everyday so that we could establish a regular sleep pattern. I was assigned to the Third Watch, with Bob Nelson as the watch officer, and Chari Wessel as the junior watch officer. Our watch was required to stand watch from Noon till 4 pm, and Midnight to 4 am. This meant that I only ended up seeing one sunset on the trip, and no sunrises. Sleep seemed more important at the time.

We left San Diego around noon, and sailed all afternoon and night to get to Santa Barbara Island, the smallest of the 8. Santa Barbara Island is the only one of the 8 that I have been too before, and that I have set foot on. Its rocky, covered in gull rookeries, among other birds, and the access to the island consists of a delapidated metal ladder and a precarious landing. A very steep hike up the hill leads to an empty ranger station, and everywhere there were sea lions who were not happy about our presence.

I stood for our Watch photo (Note: On each island, we had to have all our photos taken with island signs and such, to distinguish where we were, and prove that we'd set foot there. That way the ship's company could legally be added to the State registry for the All Eight Club). I declined to hike the island, since I'd already done that before, and there wasn't much to see.

Once we'd all returned to the ship, we took off again (this being the next day, since we'd anchored overnight off SBI). It was late afternoon when we left for our next leg to Anacapa. When I came out on deck at Midnight for my now second midwatch so far, the seas were not treating us well. The stretch of water between SBI and Anacapa is all open, with nothing between the Pacific rollers and Santa Monica. We had to deal with not only 8 foot (from the deck above the head) rollers making the ship roll side to side, but also with aggrevated chop that added all sorts of motion to the ocean. That was the worst time for me regarding sea-sickness. I wasn't the only one. Almost everyone on our watch suffered. I never lost it, but I came close, because Chari had given me meclizine, which put me to sleep. That sleepiness made it hard for me to control my stomach. Around 3 that night I gave up, and was told to go sleep in the Governer's Cabin, which is amidships. There was no way I was going to make it down into the focs'le. I woke up at dawn, and made my way to my own bunk and slept till breakfast. When I woke up again, we were getting close to Anacapa Island.

Next Episode: Anacapa Island, Santa Cruz - Prisoners' Harbor and the Painted Caves

Crazy 8s

2009-06-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

A few people know that I just returned from a great adventure at sea. A few months ago, I was chosen to be crew on the Californian on a historic expedition. We were to attempt to sail to all eight of the California Channel Islands in two weeks (which is very hard to do, for those who don't know). To date only 105 people in the history of the state have set foot on all eight of the islands, and we were hoping to add 35 more to that list. Part of the difficulty in this endeavor is that two of the islands belong to the US Navy, and we had to enlist their approval before we could even approach the islands. To all appearances, the Navy seemed eager to cooperate with us civilians and share in this historic attempt.

In 1542, Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo sailed up the coast of California, discovering bays, islands, and mapping the coastline as far as Monterey Bay. The Channel Islands he and his crew sailed around were later to be known as San Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz, Anacapa, San Nicolas, San Clemente, Santa Barbara and Santa Catalina Islands. Anacapa was the only island to retain the Native American name for it. Cabrillo was injured during the course of his explorations, died, and was supposedly buried on San Miguel Island, though there are some claims that he was buried on Santa Rosa. No one has ever been able to locate his remains.

The islands are rich in Native American archaelogical sites, having been populated as far back as 14,000 years ago, and some now believe much further back. The Chumash Indians populated the northern islands, and the Gabrielinos the southern islands. Scott O'dell's book Island of the Blue Dolphins was written about a woman living on San Nicolas Island. San Nicolas and San Miguel boast some of the largest seal, sea lion and elephant seal rookeries on the west coast. And each island has its own unique and isolated ecosystem. As you can see, there is a wealth of information and history surrounding the islands. We had a lot to cover, going to each island.

We sailed from San Diego to Santa Barbara Island, the smallest of the eight. It is also the only island I've been to before, having stopped there on my trip on the Robert C. Seamans a few years ago. Then we sailed to Anacapa Island, and that leg proved to have the roughest, most difficult seas we experienced on the trip. From Anacapa we went to Santa Cruz, then to Santa Rosa. At the end of the first week, we headed from Santa Rosa Island to the harbor of Santa Barbara, where we were guests of that city's Maritime Museum for two days. We then headed out to Pt. Conception and then turned south for San Miguel Island. Then we sailed to San Nicolas, followed by San Clemente, where at both islands we were greeted and entertained by the Navy, and ended our trip at Santa Catalina Island.

The whole voyage was incredible, and one I will never forget. I hope someday to return to the islands, but now I've set my sights on other islands too. I hope one day to set foot on the Farallon Islands, and maybe even visit the Galapagos Islands too.

A more detailed account of various adventures that happened on the trip, as well as photos and videos will follow shortly.

Cheers!
L.

The Travelers

2009-05-13T11:47:00.000-07:00

The beginning of many things. The man is called Finn, and the hawk is called Hugh.

aa....aaaa....AAAAAA....AAACHOOOOO!

2009-05-07T23:00:00.000-07:00

The Sound of Sickness
from A Prairie Home Companion, Dec. 1, 2007

Hello darkness, my old friend
I have gone to bed again
Because a virus came in to me
And I'm feeling tired and gloomy
And my head hurts and I'm achy and I'm hot
And full of snot
I hear the sound of sickness

(SICKNESS)

I have a fever and I ache
Because I made a big mistake
When I taught my class in Sunday school
And those kids began to sniff and drool
While I was teaching them the parables of Jesus
I heard their sneezes
And all the sounds of sickness

(SNEEZING)

I came home and went to bed
And felt a throbbing in my head
And I'm getting the idea
I will soon have diarhhea
And I can't go out for fear I might explode
And drop a load
And hear the sound of sickness

And in the drugstore light I saw,
Ten thousand people maybe more.
People shivering in their V-necks
Buying Benadryl and Kleenex.
And Vapo-rub and aspirin (AH CHOO)
God bless you.
It is the sound of sickness.

(COUGHING)

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
How it feels to be laid low
Why am I the one who's fated
To be so awfully nauseated
And something like silent raindrops fell
And what a smell
I hear the sounds of sickness

(SNEEZING)

And the people bowed and prayed
For relief and for first aid
For they had it without question
Awful nasal congestion
And fatigue and achiness, the whole bit
They felt like crap
And heard the sounds of sickness

(SICKNESS)

And heard the sounds of sickness.

FN (PLUGGED UP): This is Fred Newman. I'm not going to make it in to work today.

And heard the sound of sickness.

The Sound of Sickness
—originally: "The Sound of Silence" by Paul Simon © 1964 Paul Simon
—new lyrics: Garrison Keillor © 2007 Maia Maia Music (BMI)

Trailer Hitch Meets License Plate

2009-05-07T16:25:00.000-07:00

You know it's a Thursday when your morning starts out with a rear-end collision right next to your place of employment.

I was a tad hasty this morning, running slightly on the late side, when I pulled up to a stop sign behind a very big black truck. It was one of those monster double cab trucks too, and had a driver and five middle schoolers in it. My mind was on the coffee I'd just purchased, getting a parking space, how many kids were crammed into that cab, and not being late, when the truck stopped quicker than I'd anticipated. I slammed on my brakes and stopped just in time to feel a slight bump.

I'd hit the truck. Barely, as I couldn't see any damage on the bumper. I pulled into a spot and got out of my car as the truck deposited its cargo. The driver pulled up next to me and a very cheerful lady informed me that absolutely everything was fine, there was no damage at all, and was I okay? I looked at the front of my car to see that my license plate had been slightly crumpled by its first meeting with the truck's trailer hitch.

So, no worries between me and the driver, all was well. Except for my walking onto the campus. "Ms. Davis!! You hit our car!!" 3 of the 5 youngsters who'd witnessed my stupidity accosted me in the classes I coincidentally was subbing in, all informing me of my mistake. Like I hadn't been there. Oh man. I'm pretty sure all of the 7th grade now knows that Ms. Davis hit a truck before school. *sigh* Its Thursday all right.

Shades of Vinaka

2009-04-27T17:47:00.000-07:00

Its been a while since my last afternoon spent in this little cafe. I've been mooching off of someone's signal in the apartment complex, but it seems to have gone missing since yesterday morning, and emails needed to be written and flung at people.

The first thing I see as I walk in is two of the tables have been pushed together, and a small knot of old men are sitting around two chessboards and active games. It was so quaint, so...European. I had to admire it. I like this place, even though right now it seems to have more young skater/surfer punks sitting around than I would like. A couple of girls near me need a lesson on how to laugh a bit less obnoxiously. But in general, this place has great vibes. Perfect for a sunny Monday afternoon.

never do your taxes before bedtime

2009-03-25T00:35:00.000-07:00

I made that serious mistake tonight. I started plugging it all in to Turbo Tax, including that inoculous form from my freelance work, and thus I discovered I was screwed. For the first time since I started doing my own taxes, that little box at the top of the screen doesn't show green numbers, what I am getting back. It's showing red numbers. A lot of them.

So far this week hasn't gotten off to a good start. I had a trip to the dentist today, which is costing me money because of stuff I now need to fix. Now this whole tax thing. Shit, man. The crampy, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, that has been gnawing at me big time since Saturday... It's keeping me awake. It's 12:45 in the morning. School is not going to agree with me tomorrow.

Nnnrrrggghhh...

enraptured

2009-03-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

I finally got my hands on a new computer! I don't really consider it to be totally mine, as my parents had to go out of their way to get it for me, and somehow I need to pay them back...

Nice thing is, its my first really good laptop. I'm not really used to the mobility it gives me. But I'm starting to realize the possibilities.

Thus I sit here, in a cool, 70s type beach cafe near my house, making use of the coffee and the free internet. Its a neat, slightly rundown type place, but it is cool enough to have a big flat screen tv on one wall. When I came in this evening, they were playing episodes of Planet Earth, and its been running all evening. The episode playing right now is the one on Oceans, and there are shots of dolphins in Australia surfing the waves to get nearer to the beach. I look up, and the entire cafe is staring, enraptured, at the shots of the dolphins.

There are the odd disparaging comments about weird stuff in each episode, but still, how often do you look up to see a dozen and a half hipsters staring at the wonders of our planet?

Pretty cool.

D'oh!

2009-02-22T09:22:00.000-08:00

I hate it when this happens... My computer died. Oh, it will turn on, but after a few minutes it freezes and I have to force it to turn off. So yesterday I took it to the Mac doctors, hoping it was only a case of outdated software and not enough memory. No such luck. Four of the capacitors had burst on the logic board. They would have to replace the entire logic board, and with labor costs, tax, and my computer being out of warranty, the price tag is big enough to make it more worthwhile to get a new computer.

Crap.

This opens the doors to all sorts of issues. Problems that need to be addresses before my computer can be fixed or replaced. What's next?

Fire!

2009-02-08T16:26:00.000-08:00

We got to go sailing a couple of weekends ago, and we had a blast (so to speak). Saturday and Sunday saw the Surprise, the Californian, the Lynx, and a newcomer, the Amazing Grace, sailing around the bay for a few hours.

Saturday was fun, watching the Amazing Grace racing around out there. She's about half the size of the Californian (tiny! tiny!) but very beautiful and graceful. I likened the day to watching a Mazda Miata running circles around three 18-wheelers. Her captain buzzed the Surprise a few times, coming so close to the stern at one point that we could have reached out and touched the rigging. You could have spit onto the deck from the taffrail. Her captain had a stern talking to that evening, and barely came near us on Sunday.

We had our usual compliment of gunners on board, and had a great time trying to wear the ship over and over again, and yet stay out of the way of the guns' recoil. Sunday was the best because I got to help out on one of the guns a few times. The big gun, called "Pearl" needed to be swabbed, loaded, run out and fired. I only got to fire Pearl the last time, and it was pointed at the Midway, which was fun. Still, my sailing gloves were soaked with water and black powder residue, and even now they still smell like gunsmoke. The gunners were so awesome to let me help out. Someday the Surprise will have her own compliment of guns, and some of us will have to help out manning the guns! Wheee!

Disatisfaction

2009-01-13T00:41:00.000-08:00

I wish I knew why these thoughts choose to plague me right when I'm trying to fall asleep. Why can't I just turn off the light and slip into blissful dreaming? Instead I lay here, trying to ignore all of my failures and disappointments and worst of all, my worries. The fact that I have about $20 to my name, and the month isn't even half over, is something that brings tears to the corners of my eyes at any moment.

But I think that there is more to it. I've been miserable for days. I'm pretty good at hiding it, burying the pain when I'm around the kids I teach and the people I work with, but it's there. Sunday night's church service was wonderful, but I barely felt better. Even the success of proposing and getting approval for starting an afterschool ceramics program at school can't make me feel the way I should.

I keep thinking back over the disaster Christmas was this year. I want to put it behind me, forget, but I relive all the horrible parts of it along with my usual line-up at night. I know what I need to do it sit down and write a long letter to Dad, telling him how I feel, how frusterated I am that we have this really crappy relationship, and how angry I feel about this past Christmas... But everytime I try, I can't think of what to say.

How do I come right out and tell him that I felt like he was being a big jerk? I've never said anything like that to him before. But it's true. Part of my anger too is that Christmas is supposed to be the time of the year that I recharge. Get ready for the challenges ahead. Instead I was so focused on the lack of anything resembling quality family time, the constant need to be on guard against whatever bizarre comments or thoughtless opinions might come flying out of the blue, that I missed what was important.

And now I'm pissed. The fallout from the "non-holiday" I had doesn't wash off in the shower, isn't erased by new positive experiences I've had since. It just added another layer of scar tissue that keeps me awake at night. I've already decided that I'm never putting myself in that situation again, even if it means some painful distancing in the future. Like spending next Christmas enjoying the splendors of New Zealand or something.

Now that I've written some of this down, maybe I can fall asleep.

Yeah, right.

I Like Drawing in Blue...

2009-01-09T22:18:00.001-08:00

I don't know why I like this drawing... I did it a few days ago, and I'm not sure what I would do differently. I guess I like it just the way it is.

Oaks and Sugar

2008-12-28T18:28:00.000-08:00

We visited a plantation on the Mississippi today. Took us an hour to get there, where we saw the beautiful 28 oak lane leading up to the antebellum mansion. I've been there before, back in 1993, and our tour of the mansion was cut short then because they were filming Interview With A Vampire there. This time we were able to see the whole house, which was very beautiful.

It was cold and rainy today, and walking around the grounds of the plantation made me feel a little depressed. When I came to the plaque commemorating the slaves who worked on the plantation, I had to stop and think. After a while I started walking away, feeling even more depressed. But then I stopped, as an amazing thought struck me. Has anyone at this plantation bothered to tell the ghosts of the slaves the news? I looked back at the site where the slave houses had once been and whispered "Guess what! A black man is about to become President of the United States!" I smiled and walked away, feeling much better.

There Is A Bird In The Terminal

2008-12-22T15:33:00.000-08:00

I keep trying to come up with some kind of metaphor for the bird I see flitting about by my gate. I'm sitting here, waiting for my plane after an hour delay, two terminal and three gate changes. I'm exhausted and still unsure about the benefits of this trip. Yet my predicament is nothing next to the one this tiny little brown sparrow is in. There is nowhere for him to go, and he's surrounded by fast moving giants, loud noises, vehicles buzzing around and not a bush or tree in sight. All I want to do is help him, but how? What can I do? I know there are metaphors here, but my tired brain can't pick them out. Help.

Why?

2008-12-11T17:37:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading an article in the NY Times about what's going on in Zimbabwe, and I can't help wondering why we aren't doing anything about it. By "we" mean America. How is it that the Bush administration justifies invading Iraq on suspicion (meaning Not Verified, Not CONCRETE evidence) of weapons of mass destruction, and we can't be bothered to do anything about Mugabe? The man has torn down to the ground a proud, successful, wealthy country, replacing it with a country with one of the worst economies in the world, and a rapidly mounting death rate of the cholera epidemic, because of a collapse of basic services. Even when members of Mugabe's insane military (insane because they still support him) riot because they have no money to feed their families and aid workers taking on the daunting task of cleaning up the cities' water supply to contain the cholera epidemic mysteriously go missing...still nobody does anything to step in.

After the botched elections earlier this year, I really thought the international community would step in to stop that power-hungry madman. I guess I was wrong. And I shouldn't be surprised, considering the present state of Somalia, the Congo and the unforgivable genocide in Darfur. I can't help but wonder, if the people in Darfur were Jews or Whites, would the rest of the world have stood idly by and let millions of people be slaughtered?

Christmas is rapidly approaching, which normally is a season of hope and family and gifts any togetherness, but what about the 60,000 dead in Zimbabwe? What about their families and all those who are at risk of dying an excrutiatingly painful death from cholera? Where is their Christmas miracle? Why can't we do something to help them? Our economy may be tanking and people are losing jobs and homes left and right, but it is nothing compared to living under the control of a government that could give a rat's ass where or not you live or die. Just as long as people like Mugabe stay in power. Right. He's nothing but a terrorist in President's clothes and yet we allow him to continue killing off his people.

If anyone needs prayer this Christmas season, it's the people who are being oppressed and murdered by corrupt governments. It's especially the people who are suffering through the cholera epidemic in Zimbabwe. Pray for them.

Hidden Memories

2008-12-09T19:07:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, there were a number of movies that I watched so many times they became a part of the fabric of my imagination. Last night I turned on the tv just in time to catch the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas. That reminded me of another movie, Bon Voyage Charlie Brown, that I had on a tape. The tape had been a recording from tv, including commercials from the late 80s, and at the end of the Charlie Brown movie was The Flight Of Dragons.

After watching tv last night I decided to look up both films on YouTube, and sure enough they were there. I went to sleep after having watched the begining of Bon Voyage. The music, the sounds, the scenes were so deeply ingrained in my mind that I could remember what it was like to watch them when I was a kid. I could even remember the commercials scattered throughout the tape. Especially that Jiff peanut butter ad where this mom is talking about it and drawing a perfect heart with her knife in the smooth new surface in the jar. For years I did that to new jars of peanut butter.

What memories do you have associated to something you watched or did as a kid? Are you able to remember those vague feelings from when you were young? It's hard to describe...

Well, back to my old movies. Cheers!

21 Years

2008-11-25T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm writing this post from my brand new iPhone, my birthday gift. Now that my 27th birthday has come and gone, however, I must take note of a much more important gift. 21 years ago, my mother and her boyfriend walked into a mall in Nice, France, and they stopped in a shop that sold toys. After looking over the wide selection of stuffed animals, they settled on a small black panther with bright green eyes. They delivered him to an extatic 6 year old, who named him Moonlight, because his eyes seemed to glow in the light of the moon at night.

21 years later, he still has some of his original silky hair under his legs and in his ears, but the rest of him bears the marks of 21 years of love. He only has two wiskers left, and there are a couple of little bare spots here and there, but he is in great shape and his eyes still glow in the light of the moon. He's been to every country, every state, every place I've ever been, even out to sea.

I'm sure people think I'm nuts for the devotion I show this little kitty, considering that he's a stuffed animal, but I've never thought of him as anything less than real, anything less than the best, most loving friend I have. So here is a very Happy 21st Birthday to my Moonlight.

depths

2008-11-21T10:58:00.000-08:00

I don't know why I think about these things, but sometimes random contemplation comes to me in random places. I was thinking about how some people are really shallow, transparent, and others are really deep. I eventually decided that people are like the ocean.

Some people are like the Keys. Some are murky from the wave action churning up the sand till you can hardly see anything and there isn't much to them. Others are clear and bright and you can see long distances underwater. They are colorful and full of life, just like the reefs you find in the Keys.

Others are like the deep ocean. Their personalities may stay near the surface, where the light filters in, or they are very dark and unfathomable as they go deeper. Where the ocean looses all light is a forbidding, pitiless place, where life must struggle to survive.

I think I'm like the part of the ocean where the continent drops away into the abyss. I can see long distances around me, and there is a lot of life and color there, on the continental shelf. There is also darkness, if only I step off the edge. But I choose to stay near the surface, loving the light and color and life that flourishes there.

Cheers!

The Things My Hands Do...

2008-11-13T21:04:00.000-08:00

This is the final outcome of a very long running project. I was shocked when I saw it for the first time, in stone... I've been staring at it for weeks in clay on a piece of plywood.

amazing

2008-11-05T17:29:00.000-08:00

This morning my iPod woke me with some Led Zeppelin, and as I rolled over and turned the light on, I realized what day it was. It was the first day of living in a country with an African-American President. All I could think of was that black and white photo that Charles Gibson showed on tv last night, of Mr. Obama with the simple caption of "Mr. President."

I can't explain the feelings that I've had all day. I have no words to describe them properly. Pride? Confidence? Feeling good to be an American (for once)? Its a little of everything, but much much more.

When this whole race began, years ago, I didn't know what to think. I carefully ignored all of the useless retoric tossed around since the primaries, and tried not to take too seriously the negative ads on both sides. I was disdainful of the masses that followed Obama. And I really liked McCain. I did. I wanted to vote for him. But I wasn't going to make up my mind till I saw the debates.

The debates changed my mind. That and Palin. I like her, but not as VP. She's too green, too unknown. And McCain's attitude during the debates...I found myself getting more and more frustrated watching him. I've spent 8 years being frustrated and disgusted with the Shrub, and I didn't want to spend another 4, maybe 8, feeling that way again.

Throughout the race, I have only been following it online and on the radio, so as the months passed, I found myself completely forgetting the color issue. But when I turned on the tv last night to watch the results coming in, I slowly realized that we were about to see the impossible dream come true. When Mr. Gibson said in a slightly unsteady voice that Barack Obama was the 44th President of the United States, I felt my heart jump. (I want to stress that I am not an ObamaManiac.) But at that moment I felt prouder of my country than I ever have, prouder of the people who decided to give him a chance.

The proof of last night's success was at school this morning. That every single 6th grade class I entered today cheered for our new President was proof of the awesomeness of the day. And the beaming faces of every single one of our African-American students, among all of the excited students all over campus, made me feel like the day couldn't get any better.

Welcome to the New World.

Crap. (otherwise known as poo, shyte, refuse, etc.)

2008-10-20T22:56:00.000-07:00

I screwed up. I'm writing this down to get it off my chest, because I'm not sleeping well at night now.

You know that feeling? when you've done bad, and pushed it away, and it won't leave you alone, and it sneaks up on you when you're not ready for it....that feeling when your heart pounds uncomfortably fast, regardless of the amount of coffee you've injested recently?

This is one thing I hate about doing commercial art. Sometimes I get hung up over something and I put it off and put it off...and then it turns around and bites me very hard in the butt. I've got 4 and a half projects due for the studio. I'm at least 2 weeks, maybe three behind (another of my problems is loosing track of time...).

Friday the foreman called. Today the boss called. I haven't listened to either message. I have some idea of what they have to say, but I don't want to listen. I'm having a hard enough time sleeping as it is, and if I listen to the messages, then I have no choice but to call them back. What do I tell them? I'm tired of making excuses. I'm just behind. Uninspired. Unmotivated.

This little voice in the back of my head says "maybe if they paid me in advance..." But that's just another excuse. And if I were behind it would be even worse for me.

I hate this feeling. I hate it when I get myself into these situations. I feel responsible. I feel like I have totally failed everyone. I know that if I take a step back and look around, this is nothing. This is not the end of the world, and ultimately teaching is more important to me anyway. But I still feel like a failure. I have people relying on me to get something done, and if I can't get it done, than what am I to everyone else?

*Sigh*....I thought writing all this down would make me feel better, but it hasn't. So, I think I'll just go to bed, and try to sleep.

Ta.

"I used to sit and watch the pouring rain..."

2008-09-29T15:13:00.000-07:00

Off and on for the last few weeks, a very troubling thought would randomly pop into my mind. I missed the rain. I've lived half my life in places where it rained almost every day like clockwork. Since moving out to California, however, the number of days it has rained while I've lived here wouldn't fill a year. That's what I get for living in a sub-saharan climate.

The lack of rain has really bothered me recently. I've been trying to remember the last time it really rained down here. I figured it out today. I think it was right after the Witch Creek Fire last October, when Pendleton burned all the way to the 5 freeway. A week or two after the firefighters got that fire under control, it rained for a day or two. Maybe more, I can't remember. But once the ash soaked into the ground, and after a few weeks of sunshine, Pendleton was once more covered in green.

The subject of rain came up last night too. I was describing how much I missed thick, heavy drops of rain splatting on the ground. I missed a good solid day of heavy rain, the kind that soaks everything. The kind that stays in the ground for days, and when you look around, you can see all the plants looking greener and perkier for all the water their roots are sucking up.

So, you can imagine my astonishment when I arrived at the architecture studio this morning, and saw first one, then two, then several drops hitting my windshield. The sun was coming up spectacularily over the hills, and there were large scattered towers of clouds all over the sky. You could see the rain in some of them. Not dark with menace, just heavy with potential. And as the towers swept across the morning sky, there were rumbles of thunder, and sweeps of beautiful, heavy rain coming down.

By afternoon the traces of rain were almost gone, but you can still see puddles here and there. And as the rain came down this morning, and I stood in it, letting it soak my hair and my shoulders, I just had to thank God for hearing our wishes, and today making mine come true.

Cheers!

students

2008-09-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

As I sit here, watching seventh graders messing around, pretending to do the assignment I gave them, I can't help at wonder what some of them will be like in a few years. Some of the 7th and 8th graders I meet are very tall, getting their adult growth in. When they go off to High School, they have a semblance of adulthood. Others can look forward to looking young and out of place when they reach the 9th grade.

But that's not entirely what I mean when I wonder what they will be like. A handful of students that I have met in these grades have very mature senses of humor. Others are very good at imitating the adults in their lives. You can almost predict what their parents are like from the way they act.

After teaching for a couple of years, I can see the way people probably were when they were in these grades. The ones who changed the most, usually the introverts who develop into mild extroverts are most often the ones worth knowing. However, every personality, every character has its own charm, and as I look around me and see the way these kids express themselves, I dearly wish that I could see into their futures. I wish I could see what they will become.

Californian to Dana Point

2008-09-15T08:33:00.000-07:00

I wasn't back two weeks from the Festival of Sail in Los Angeles when I found myself going sailing again. I have to be honest here; the reason why I never sail on the Californian is because I've always been terrified of the skipper who is most often her captain. He's a very tough guy who never smiles, and there are all sorts of stories about him chewing people out because they didn't know what they were doing.

So when I saw the list for the trip to Dana Point on the Californian, I was very excited to see that the skipper of the Surprise as Captain and one of the really nice guys who've been around for years as the mate, I was happy to volunteer to sail up and back. It was a great weekend. The sailing was marvelous, especially on Saturday, when we had wind that let us go up to 8 or so knots.

We left SD on Friday morning around 3:30am, and being on the first watch, I had the good fortune to watch the sun come up behind La Jolla. It was one of the most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen. Later in the day we saw dolphins, a sunfish, and three Fin whales played and fished nearby, completely unconcerned by our ship. We even had an apparently exhausted seagull who, after trying several uncomfortable landing sites on the ship, finally settled on the still-furled inner jib. We tried chasing him away by throwing pancakes at him, which he ate, and then the heaving line. This bothered him, but did not persuade him to leave permanently. Oh well. He stayed till he'd had his fill of the sun and relaxation, then left.

Once we reached Dana Point, we picked up passengers and headed back out for the afternoon's Parade into the harbor. Once that was through, and we'd rafted the ship to the others in the harbor, we ate and slept. The next two days consisted of opening all the ships up to the public from 10 to 4, at which time we all loaded up with passengers and headed out for afternoon gun battles. Six ships participated in this: The Californian, the Spirit of Dana Point, the Lynx, the American Pride, and the Exy Johnson and Irving Johnson.

The best moment of the two days of gun battles was on the first afternoon, when the Exy and the Irving came down on us together. We went between them going the opposite direction. What they didn't know was that unlike most of our engagements, we had two gunners on baord that day. So when they came up on us, we fired both broadsides at the same time. It was beautiful. The most talked about moment of the weekend.

Being such a full weekend, with so much that happened, I'll continue this in a second post, with pictures too. Cheers!

Suprise in LA

2008-08-25T19:28:00.000-07:00

Since we tied off our mooring lines last Monday (wow, a week ago...) back in San Diego, I've been mulling over the trip I just went on. There is a great deal to mull. The trip was, in a word, awesome. No doubt about it. But there is so much to write about, and so much of that would be indecipherable to those who had not experienced it for themselves, that I think I'm just going to put down some choice memories from the trip.

First off, for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, I got to sail the HMS Surprise from the San Diego Maritime Museum, with 43 other crew to the LA Port in San Pedro. Considering that last November, we had no idea when we'd ever get to take our ship out for the day again, let alone 4 days, this was a major accomplisment. We left SD Thursday afternoon, two weeks ago, spent the weekend in San Pedro, and returned the following Monday. Why? Because of the Festival of Sail.

The Festival moved down the coast from San Francisco, and ended in San Diego (that was this past weekend, and a lot of fun). But we actually got to participate in San Pedro. For the most part that meant that our beautiful ship was docked and people were swarming all over it from 11 in the morning till 7 at night for 3 days. Those of us who weren't on anchor watch during those hours spent the days walking around, seeing the other ships that were there for the Festival, exploring San Pedro, or hanging out with visiting family and friends.

I really can't describe the things that happened over that weekend, because most of the memorable events involved very inebriated people at ungodly hours of the morning. Some of these people were crazy too, but nothing bad happened, and the ship and crew remained safe the whole time. (so, no worries).

But there was Saturday night, when 15 or 16 of us Surprises (including the skipper) headed off to the free showing of "Master and Commander: the Far Side of the World" at the local movie theater. We took up one and a half rows in the back, and we all cheered at the right spots, laughed at the jokes and sang along to the sea shanties. At the end of the movie, we gave a loud three cheers to the crew of the Surprise in the movie. We all felt good about having represented our ship with gusto.

There was also a lot of wildlife sightings on the way up to LA and the journey back. Mostly dolphins, but one whale, a few sea lions, and two sunfish. My favorite was while I was standing watch on Monday morning at 3:30 in the morning. I was standing at the starboard bow, leaning on the bulwarks, when suddenly I heard the sound of air coming from a blowhole. I looked down, and by the light of the moon I saw the smooth backs of dolphins coming up for air right in front of the bow. They were doing so very quietly, and gracefully, instead of jumping around and playing the way I've seen them do during the day.

But the best memory of all, by far, was at the beginning of the trip. Just as we were getting ready to throw off our mooring lines and leave the dock in SD, I heard the skipper call my name out loudly. "Front and center!" he cried. So, I took my place at the wheel. I had the enormous honor of taking the Surprise out as far as the first sea buoy. What a joy that was.

As the memories and stories unspool from my mind, I'll add some of the choice bits.

Ta for now!

People are Stupid.

2008-08-09T19:42:00.000-07:00

Maybe it is just that I am very tired today. I went to bed close to 3am this morning, because I was finishing up the flag to give to Mr. Brinks later this morning. That was probably my biggest mistake.

You know, how when your tired, everything seems magnified? Like all of the stupid things people do? The guy in front of you is driving too slowly and your late for something, or nobody uses their turn signals, or people ask you dumb questions. It all seems to grate much more when you are super tired.

That was me today. Today was the day to finish the wheel. It now has a coat of epoxy on every surface. Some of it needs a couple more coats, but the point is, that it is 98% finished. And it looks gorgeous.

Nevertheless, I still got all of the original questions and statements that I normally get when I spend the day on the caution tape-roped-off-wheel. "Wow, that looks like hard work!" or "Did you lose a bet?" or "Are you being punished?" or "That's a big job...". And of course there are always moments where I have to laugh at people. I have now had three incidents of somebody thinking that we steered the ship backwards, and having to point out to them that the pointy end of the ship is actually the front.

Today takes the cake, however. While I was cleaning everything up in preparation for epoxying, I had three people come up and touch the wheel's spokes. Then a family came on board, and the dad walks up and says "wow, they must be working on the wheel. I guess we shouldn't touch it." What does he do? He reaches out and touches it. His three kids race up and the littlest follows his father's stellar example and grabs a spoke, prompting the man to start yelling at him, and the kid to start crying. Brilliant.

The best was at the end of the day. I'd just finished applying epoxy to the outer ring of spokes, and this guy and his two daughters walks up, and he reaches out to touch the wheel. I give him my I'm-going-to-skin-you-alive look, and say very sharply "Sir, please don't touch the wheel." He replies, "Yeah, I know..." and shows me his now sticky fingers. Crap and a half, man. Seriously. Rig up the grating. Give him a dozen stripes. He'll never look at CAUTION TAPE and FRESH VARNISH signs the same way again.

I had to leave shortly after that, because I was extremely close to maiming someone. And you know that as soon as I left, someone probably touched the very freshly epoxied wheel. I'm positive of it.

So, note to self: go to sleep early tonight. The last thing I want to do tomorrow during sail training is bite the head off of one of my mates...especially as I'm going to be living with 25 of them for 4 days in close quarters next week....

Cheers.

I Get All The Weirdos

2008-08-02T13:23:00.000-07:00

Its true. Almost everytime I've had to be the person in the drive thru spot, I get the weirdos, the freaks, the caffeine addicts, the cranky people and the crazies. Like the guy who walked up to the window one night. We don't serve people through the window unless they are in a car....

Last night took the cake in my book. I'm in the back doing dishes, and a car comes through. I can hear the car is obviously full of immature guys who are pretending that we are McDonalds. Haha. Okay, so moving on. They finally get up to the window, and man, they were out to have a GREAT time. More customers pull up to the box, and I'm having a hard time hearing them because of all the noise these boys are making.

We get their drinks made and handed out to them, and many insults and other such comments are exchanged (not by me, since I was trying to concentrate on the other customers in the drive). I turn to the window just as they start pulling away. The SUV stops so that the passenger is at the window, and one of the boys decides to show me his skinny white butt. They pull away laughing hysterically.

I really didn't need to see that.

I was in the neighborhood today, so I stopped by the store to get some coffee, and as I walk in a really tall skinny fellow walks out. I stopped, and watched him leave, thinking Man, he looks familiar...kinda like the driver of that car from last night.

I get up to the counter, and my AM tells me that that kid Was the driver from last night, and that he'd come to apologize and left his phone number. The AM gives it to me, and I get my drink and leave. As I got in my car, I noticed the kid was still in the parking lot, so I pull up to where his car is and I call out to him.

What followed was a nearly tearful, very panicked explanation and apology. The cops had called his folks. Oh boy. That CHP guy must have called it in! (I had written down their license plate number) I smiled, and told the kid that it was okay, and I really appreciated his apologizing, and with a grin, told him to tell his friend that he needed a tan.

So, that was my first experience being mooned.

=)

The CON

2008-07-25T18:20:00.000-07:00

Every year San Diego becomes obssessed with pop culture in the second to last week of July. Comics, movies, games, art, costumes, music, anime, you name it...the International San Diego Comic Convention has it. Last year the Con had an attendance of over 100,000. I have no idea what it will be this year, but I went yesterday, on the first day of the Con and it was crazy....I don't really have much to say, since it defies description, but here are some of the pictures I took. The rest you can see at my smugmug page. Check it out in Slideshow Mode.

Dancing a Jig

2008-06-29T17:57:00.000-07:00

Today marked another huge step in the restoration of the Surprise's wheel. I guess the only thing I can do is to show you pictures.

When we were finished for the day, as I walked out to the parking lot, I kept looking back to see the wheel. One set of spokes, you couldn't see...the other? Gleaming. There was a beautiful star of light sitting on top of the wheel. I was so happy, I could dance a jig.

Cheers!

Progress!!

2008-05-26T13:52:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I decided to finally take some pictures of what I've been totally obsessed with at the Museum. As a few people might know (since I never stop talking about it), I've been working on stripping down the old varnish on the wheel of the Surprise, so we can re-varnish it and make it look pretty. So, here's an example of what part of the wheel still looks like, since we haven't gotten to it yet:

This is what 4 years of neglect and a crappy varnish job to start off with will do to a wheel. The props guys of Fox studios either didn't bother to do what we are doing to the old varnish (scraping it off and replacing it) when they were dressing up the "set" or they picked out the nastiest yellow varnish and mixed it in with some brown paint to make it look aged. I'm constantly ranting about this because you see the wheel close up in the movie for all of about 30 seconds, and in dark stormy weather. You can't even see the detail of the crappy paint job. Besides, what self-respecting ship's captain, looking for things to keep his often idle crew busy, would allow the wheel to fall into such disrepair?!

So, here is what the wood of the wheel (which is solid mahogany) looks like after it has been scraped clean, sanded well and has two coats of epoxy varnish on it:

There's no stain on that sucker. That's all wood baby. Ain't it beautiful? The day that I did this section, I was by myself, and as I finished cleaning up the mess from sanding, I say the higher-ups of the Museum going below for a meeting, including the skipper. When he came back up on deck, I'd just finished the last of the epoxy on the post. I called him over, and he did a complete double-take. After three years of seeing the wheel every day, looking like crap, finally some progress. I left that day with a huge smile on my face.

Since starting this project at the begining of last November, we've had every kind of delay to deal with. We've had to stop for months at a time because of the weather (can't epoxy when the wood is wet). We've been thwarted by people who either don't think the project is a priority, or don't agree on what materials we should use. But regardless of the obstacles we've still managed to get this far, and I hope to be done by the end of June. I keep saying by the end of the month, but what month we finish in is always changing. So, June. The large sections were easy, but the spokes are driving me crazy with sanding all of the detail and stuff. When I get tired and frustrated, I look at the parts we've finished, and I have hope. Some day soon we will be done, and then it will be on to the next project, whatever it may be.

Cheers

Hoist the Host!

2008-05-07T18:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I got to spend the day at the Museum, working on varnishing a section of well-sanded wood on the wheel. When I got there I met up with our skipper, and he playfully asked if I was going to get Mike Rowe to help me out. Yes, he was there.

The Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs crew was at our Museum, filming Mike doing a variety dirty jobs onboard the Star of India. While I was sanding away, my attention was drawn to the sight of a cameraman and Randy standing on the main royal yard footropes, and Mike sitting pretty in a bosun's chair being hoisted to the masthead.

He looked tiny all the way up there, but he has now joined a select few individuals who have had a view of the deck from that very place. Dispite the fact that he's been to the 500 ft. top of the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, as well as many other precarious places, no doubt this was the scariest. There is something rather dubious about sitting on a plank of wood supported by two ropes, hooked into a line and being hoisted 160 off the deck of a mildly swinging barque.

I can't wait to see the episode.

Cannon Battles of May 3rd

2008-05-04T17:51:00.000-07:00

Friday, May 2nd,
This day began late, with a car ride down to the Museum and arriving there at around 10:30. I worked on the wheel for a while, joined by one of my crewmates, until we noticed these wonderful things we call “guns” arrive onboard. Most people refer to them as “cannons,” which in fact is incorrect when using them nautically. We call them guns, and the balls we fire from them are called “shot”.

Anyway, two little guns made their appearance on the deck. They were so small, they could be carried easily by two people. However, their arrival signaled better things to come, and we abandoned the wheel in favor of assisting the placement of the guns below decks. This was accomplished with sweat and toil, and we added two more guns to the company of the small ones, including a true 6 pounder. This is still a small gun, in the ranks of guns, but it packs a punch and makes a lot of noise. By the end of the afternoon, Timmy, Lassie, and Toto, the small guns, were on their platforms, followed by Muffy, Homer and Pearl, the 6 pounder. I left after Pearl had a home, since I had to go earn money for real work (yeah, right).

Saturday, May 3rd,
This day began before the sun rose. I climbed wearily out of bed, reluctant to leave behind only 3 hours of sleep following the closing shift at Starbucks. However, the day promised great things, so I managed. I picked up my contribution to the ship’s rations and made my way down to the Museum. Once the rum and ship’s biscuit were loaded into the galley (the coffee and every marked out pastry I could get my hands on last night), I helped the gunners carry on their supplies.

They seemed to be a lively bunch, happy to be there, and happy to be able to oblige our desperate need to prove our war-like capabilities. Last November’s three weeks of taunting ships with useless words and bananas shaken by our angry fists were finally over. Now we have a 6 gun broadside.

A couple of hours later found us out in the harbor, getting our feet wet, so to speak. The Fleet Week parade that we were supposed to be a part of wasn’t going to be underway for a couple more hours, so we had lots of time to kill. This time was spent well, with copious amounts of laying about the deck snoozing punctuated by brief periods of sail setting and bracing. We were under sail some of the time, and under motor power the rest. It all depended on the wind.

A few of us were worried, because the 100,000 people the papers had predicted to show for the first Fleet Week parade and the Red Bull Air Race time trials, were absent. The Navy’s destroyers made their way through the harbor, along with some hovercraft, and a few flyovers from very loud planes and helicopters. The parade was lacking the aircraft carrier, much to my disappointment. When the Navy ships finally made their way under the bridge, it was our turn to show off for the City of San Diego.

By now the people had finally come out. The Midway was covered with people, as well as the Embarcadero, and several dozen sailboats and pleasure craft that had parked themselves in prime viewing locations throughout the harbor. It made our job very difficult, being that our Porcella Nostra is not easily threaded around annoying little sailboats. We finally got to the open patch of water in front of the Reagan and the Inspiration Hornblower, and started exchanging shots with the Californian. Our first rolling broadside was awesome to witness.

When shots are received, you feel the full force of the sound wave. I took lots of video with my little digital camera, and every time the Californian fires, you see the picture jerk, because of the shock I felt each time. At one point later on, the Californian was so close to our starboard side that it was almost painful to receive their rounds.

However, this was nothing to what they must have felt when we returned fire. They had four small 3-6 pounders on board, to our 6 guns of varying size, including a true 6 pounder, Pearl. Whenever the gunners shot off Pearl, we felt the recoil impact in the deck beneath our feet. It makes you wonder what it was like to have the long 9 pounders and the giant 12 pounders on the ships of old. What must it have been like to be standing on the deck of the HMS Victory, with its 96 guns firing?

I’m glad I had ear protection. Once we were done by the carrier, we made our way to the Museum and exchanged more shots for the benefit of our esteemed patrons. Our first volley, however, caught an unwise pair of fishermen unprepared. They were right between our ships when it was time to exchange shots, and having endured crap from sailboats all day, our captain was not about to take pity on two unfortunates in a rowboat. The crew shouted to them to cover their ears, and they got the message quickly as they realized the predicament they were in. The shots were exchanged, and we laughed at their discomfort. They were seen to be moving off in the direction of the Midway shortly after. What a day to be out fishing.

Our last bout of firing came after we’d made our way up to Shelter Island. As we maneuvered into positions, the Red Bull competitors were up in their planes, limbering up for the race. They were performing the most incredible stunts above us. It was loud and somewhat distracting as we tried to get into the best position possible for winning the fight with the Californian. Finally our nemesis came at us, and came up so close to our starboard side that we were able to exchange demands and taunts easily. As you can hear in the video, some of us were dreading the pain that the exchange would cause, due to the sheer sound of the shots ringing out. It was magnificent nonetheless, and since they ran out of powder before we did, I think that we can safely say that we had the upper hand when the day’s hostilities came to an end.

Once the ships were safely docked back at the Museum, and we had put everything away and restored order to our soon-to-be-infested-with-tourists deck, our captain summed up the day. In short he was very proud of our fine performance, especially since we’d had the Museum’s Director on board as a guest. With a good third of our crew new to the ship, and the rest of us trying to remember how we did things back in November, the fact that we only made a couple of small mistakes was something to be proud of.

I joined my crewmates at the local pub for a few rounds of toasts to the ships’ crews, and the ships’ captains, as well as the master gunner. After about an hour of talking and drinking (water in my case), I left the pub feeling better than I have in months. It is a wonderful feeling to be wished well by so many people, to be a part of such a wonderful group that cares so much for each other and the ships that bring us together. The best thing is that this day was only Saturday, and we have crew tomorrow. Huzzah!

May 3rd

2008-04-21T08:55:00.000-07:00

I can't believe this. It is so awesome, I have to share it.

So, we (the museum, and the H.M.S. Surprise and the Californian) were invited to participate in the Fleet Week celebrations the first week of May. Yesterday, the Captain shared with us the general plan. The Surprise and the Californian are going to duke it out three times, in three different spots on the bay, for the benefit of the public. Which means, obviously, that the Surprise is going to get guns! We are getting 4 small guns, 2 long guns and 2 swivel guns, as well as a guest crew of 9 gunners on board to man them. The guns will all be small, 6 pounders or less, but still. They will make lots of noise, and lots of smoke.

I can't imagine a better day. What's more, after the gun battles on the bay, that afternoon is the trial day for the Red Bull Air Race. So, we get to hang out at the Museum all afternoon, watching little trick planes doing sick stunts all around the bay. Sweet, eh?

There is progress on the wheel too. We've been scratching away at the Surprise's wheel for months now, off and on, getting a few hours in here and there. Yesterday we made a lot of progress. I started sanding down an area that had been really weathered and grey, and now the mahogany wood is rosie pink. It will look so beautiful when we oil the wood. We need at least a couple of weeks of nonstop hot weather to dry out the wood before we redo the varnish, so for now, to protect the wood till summer gets on for real, we're going to coat it in lynseed oil. No matter what, it will look so much better. Instead of being yellowish/brownish and peeling, it will be a beautiful, deep rosie brown. It will be so satisfying to see it finished.

Well, that's all for now.

Cheers!

Once

2008-04-04T18:55:00.000-07:00

The mail came today. and as expected there was a little red envelope in the mail box. I pull it out and take it up to my apartment. There is a movie in this little red envelope. I pull it out. It is new to me...one that I’ve never seen before. I set it down on the bookcase, next to my tv.

It sits and waits patiently. Will I watch it today? Tonight? Maybe not. I’m not in the mood. I’m not sure about it. I’ve never seen this movie before, and though several people have said it was good, I have no idea whether or not I will like it. The main characters in the movie won a big award recently, and they seemed really cool. But still...it sits and waits.

A few days pass. I’ve watched about 12 movies in the time past, but still, it waits patiently for me to take it out of its little white envelope and put it in my xbox. The afternoon has come, and its peaceful out, with the sun streaming in and it seems like a good time to try it.

It plays as I work. It is so far a very nice film. Very genuine and the characters seem like real people. The song they are singing together is the one that they won the big award for. It is beautiful. The music of the film helps me feel the sculpture I’m working. It helps the clay move better. Now I want the soundtrack so that I can listen to it and work to it.

The movie is over now, and it was one of the most beautiful, simple, charming movies I’ve seen in a long time. I’m glad the sun was shining just right, and that it was a Saturday afternoon, and that I finally got the guts up to watch it. It was perfect.

Everything

2008-03-16T21:15:00.001-07:00

God in my living
There in my breathing
God in my waking
God in my sleeping

God in my resting
There in my working
God in my thinking
God in my speaking

Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything
Be my everything

God in my hoping
There in my dreaming
God in my watching
God in my waiting

God in my laughing
There in my weeping
God in my hurting
God in my healing

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
You are everything

Christ in me
Christ in me
Christ in me the hope of glory
Be my everything

Rescued?

2008-03-12T19:18:00.000-07:00

I went down to the beach again today. I really needed to walk off my thoughts and frustrations, including a whole day of subbing for 8th grade History. The county is laying off 1300 teachers and school staff...I'm totally broke...gas prices keep going up...

These were all things that were swilling around in my head. I stood at the waterline waiting for a friend who was supposed to go walking with me. As I stood there, I started looking for more bees, and sure enough I found them. Most of them were crusted over with sand, dead. But I did find one that was trying to get free of its watery prison. I picked it up off the sand and held it gently. After a few minutes of hobbling around, it started to clean itself. 20 minutes passed and it had gotten most of the sand off its legs and body, cleaned its antennae (one of which had been plastered to its head) and dried its wings. It was actively crawling around on my hand, so I decided to head back up to the sea wall. When I got there I went over to a daisy bush and the little bee suddenly took off and landed on a flower. I figured it would fly away eventually, but I wanted to make sure that it had some chance of flying to safety, rather than right into a wave.

I have no idea if the little bee made it, or will survive. But it felt good to give at least one of dying bees a chance. It also helped to clear my head a little as I walked alone down the beach, to the sound of crashing waves.

Where Bees Go To Die

2008-03-06T21:06:00.000-08:00

This evening I took a walk down on the beach, just to get out of my house and get some fresh air. I walked the length of the seawall, from the parking lot I left my car in, to the other end of the wall and back. As I walked, I started noticing bees, on the beach.

Every couple of steps there were one or two, or a small group of them lying dead along the waterline. Right along with all of the kelp air bladders and small rocks and shells pushed up by the waves. No where else. As I walked back towards the parking lot, I counted the bees, and by the time I reached my car, I'd seen many dozens of them. Why were they all dead at the waterline? Why had they flown to the sea to die? The wind all day had come up from the ocean, not from the land, so its not like they'd been blown out to sea.

As I pondered this bizarre sight, the sun started to set. As it had been cloudy all day, I didn't think that there'd be much of a sunset. Was I ever wrong. This evening's sunset was one of the most beautiful I'd ever seen. So, with that sight in my mind, I left the beach to go do other things, but I will always wonder why the bees lay in their watery graves.

Dusk and Fog

2008-02-11T17:46:00.000-08:00

The very early morning hours, just before the sun comes up, and the late afternoon hours just as the sun goes to bed are my very favorite times of the clock. Those dim hours give much inspiration for quiet reflection. Today's dusk is even better.

As I walked out of my apartment to get the mail, I realized that not only could I see a huge fog bank beginning to make its way inland, but I could smell it and feel it on my skin. The sky was pale yellow, as the sun I presume was sinking below the horizon. The fog had made its way through the park across the street, obscuring the jungle gym and the trees and turning the grass white.

To me, that kind of fog is absolutely the most beautiful thing on God's green earth. It muffles all sound, turns the world quiet. Paired with the dimming light, it infuses everything with a wonderful peacefulness that calms the soul. The air was cool after a long warm day, and the fresh taste of the wet air made me feel great. I could breathe it in deep without inspiring a coughing fit (of which I constantly suffer after my bout with the flu week before last).

Now I have the evening to look forward to, both at home and at work. The world as I know it is slowly being enveloped in beautiful obscurity. How I love the fog.

There is a last time for everything...

2008-02-01T21:13:00.000-08:00

On Monday I subbed for a preschool moderate/severe handicap class. I didn't do much, not knowing what to do, and the class was very capably handled by several very competent aides. The kids were cute...all of them were about 4 to 5 years old. And several of them were sick. These were kids who weren't really able to go to the potty by themselves, much less cover their mouths or blow their noses. They sprayed stuff everywhere. We dutifully cleaned up all the messes, including the ones under their noses....but it didn't help. How only a few kids were sick, I don't know. They should all have been sick. And all who were should have been at home, in bed, with mom nearby.

Instead they were relying on me, among others, and they got me sick. Monday night I had a bad headache. Tuesday I subbed for a 5 grade class all day, and had a slightly sore throat and a headache all day, with the sore throat getting worse as the day progressed. I canceled my job for Wednesday, and good thing too, because Wednesday I started leaking. By the end of Wednesday I had consumed 3 extra large boxes of Kleenex, and by the end of Thursday, another 3 were added to that toll. Today has been just as bad, except that I am coughing now too. And the coughing has been pretty nasty. Throw in several days of off and on chills and fevers, and three nights of very uncomfortable and restless sleep, and you can see how crappy my week has been.

The doctor that I finally got in to see today gave me a couple of things. One of them is an antibacterial drug that I'm to wait to use another day, in case this is viral, which means it has almost run its course. The other is a syrup for the coughing, that also has Codeine in it, which should put me to sleep. Yay! I have partaken of the syrup and am now waiting to be blissfully unaware of my surroundings.

As I wait, I mourn the lost opportunities of getting to sub for a high school biology teacher (who had two periods of AP bio to boot), getting another few hours added to my meager payroll at Starbucks, and having my brother visit. He has a race tomorrow, and was going to stay the night and spend Saturday with me, but now for obvious reasons, he made other plans. Oh well.

Aside from the drugs and the obvious desire for all of this to go away, I wish I had my mommy here, to give me a hug and tuck me into bed....growing up sucks when you are sick. This is the LAST time I EVER sub (babysit) for a preschool class. EVER.

Sir Ed

2008-01-11T00:24:00.000-08:00

Sir Edmund Hillary died today, at age 88.

Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay, who died in 1986. Both were great men.

May the world never forget the New Zealander who braved the world's highest mountain. Rest in peace, Sir Ed.

I Have A New Love

2007-12-30T20:22:00.000-08:00

Last night, my friend Catherine took me to a wonderful restaurant called Bistro de Coin near her place in Dupont Circle. We walk in and it is big and noisy, full of people eating wondrous looking dishes and listening to funky music. The restaurant had all the ear-marks of a great French place, with the waiters who either spoke or were French, the music that didn't match the setting, and a disco ball high up on the ceiling.

We looked over the menu and I found that I had a problem. A wonderful problem. A problem that I very rarely have in a restaurant. I couldn't decide what to get. We finally settled on Moules Frites to start (mussels and fries), followed by Canarde (duck) for Catherine and Blanquette de Veau (a kind of veal stew) for me.

The mussels were divine, along with some of the best fries I've ever had. Each mussel was big, plump, practically falling out of the shell. There was fresh French bread, to be used to dip into the remaining broth from the mussels. The fries were consumed, along with our glasses of wine, and our own bottle of water. (I mention this because of a phenomenon in American restaurants, one that I despise. The little man who walks around the dining room, pouring a quarter or a half an inch of water into your already full glass of water. I hate this man. Nothing personal, but GO AWAY. My water is fine without your help.)

Then came the main dishes. They were beautifully prepared. Catherine's tender slices of duck are beautifully arranged around a salad, and my Blanquette....well....words fail. Even now I look at this dish and I want to cry. I can smell its goodness, its pearl onions and button mushrooms, its shallots in their delicate cream sauce. Its chunks of the most incredible veal I have ever tasted. I think I said "wow" after ever bite of this heavenly concoction. When we were finally done, and I had half of mine still on the plate because I was so stuffed, we motioned to the waitress. She had stayed away all through our meal, unlike American waiters who insist on disturbing you to ask "is everything alright? to your liking?"

She came to our table and leaned down to hear me tell her that this was seriously the best French food that I'd ever had, and I grew up in France. I asked her to go in the back and tell who ever was responsible for this masterpiece that they had made someone very very happy that day. I was almost ready to cry. She laughed, a nice big genuine laugh, to indicate that she too appreciated someone who could truly love their food that much.

They kindly boxed up the remainder of my meal, which was consumed this morning at the airport. It fortified me against a day of cramped airplanes and lousy food. The memory of it alone comforts me, though I dearly long for more. Thankfully my copy of Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook has a recipe for Blanquette de Veau in it with a picture that looks faintly similar to what I ate. Maybe with some luck (and Tony's help) I'll be able to touch upon such perfection again.

Cheers! (and here's to the cooks at Le Bistro de Coin!)

I Made Something

2007-12-15T00:19:00.000-08:00

Thanks to scheduling at work, I had to work on Halloween night. So because I wouldn't be around for trick-or-treat-ers, I carved a pumpkin for the store, with the logo on it. People liked it, and it stayed up for a couple of days before biology ran its course in the unfortunate vegetable.

During its stay on the counter, a fellow in the store noticed it and spent a day or two tracking me down. He offered me a freelance job doing sculpture work for his company. They cast the decorative architecture that goes on fancy houses and old-style buildings. Really cool stuff.

So, here are some pictures of my first two projects. The first one, which my students at school called "the turkey" because of its color and shape (they are first and second graders, okay?), was a test. They wanted to see what I could do, and how well I could do it. When I was finished, they gave me this really big piece to do.

I must stress that I have never done anything like this before. I don't have a clue as to the names and technical terms of the various elements of the piece I did. The big leaf has a specific name, one which I cannot remember. Anyway, this is big for me, and I'm having a lot of fun with it. I'm looking forward to the next challenge, doing a square column cap.

Shiny!

Rocking Chairs!

2007-11-28T21:52:00.000-08:00

This past weekend saw my first time flying out of and back in to San Diego Int'l Airport. I was curious about the airport, especially as it is fairly small, and I've never seen anything remotely like a 747 fly in or out of it. I guess that the runways are a bit too short for a plane that size.

My first intimation that this was a different airport from those I've been in previously was when I was walking down the terminal to my gate, and there in one of the seating areas was...two rocking chairs. Two black, old-fashioned rocking chairs. Now I've been in a lot of airports, all over the country, and a few international airports, but never have I seen anything other than the standard segments of seating commonly found in terminals.

When I arrived back in SD, and I was heading out of the terminal I was greeted with a whole crowd of rocking chairs, positioned in such a way and place as to suggest that they were decoration, but anyone was welcome to sit in them. I grabbed a picture with my phone, just for proof.

I Painted A Mural

2007-11-19T15:18:00.000-08:00

This is a thank you note to my friends for giving me a chance to run amok with paint on their walls. Well, to be fair it was a well planned session of running amok. But here it is.

Christmas

2007-11-09T22:00:00.000-08:00

Why am I writing about Christmas? Why am I writing about it on the 9th of November? Because for a significant part of each day of my week, I am suddenly forced to face the part of Christmas I hate the most.

Now those who know me best know that in recent months I have found a new depth to my faith in God. And that hasn't changed despite my statement in the paragraph above. To me there are two Christmases. There's the one that I cherish deeply in my heart, the one that involves fireplaces and stockings, trees and decorations. It involves good food, and family getting together, possibly for the only time in the year. It involves faith, and the joy of knowing that I am celebrating the birthday of someone who means more to me than anyone or anything else in my life.

And then there's the Christmas that involves...money. I work in a store, with a company that cares deeply about extracting every single benefit possible out of the Christmas season. We even have a product that is sold in two different packages, but is exactly the same, only labeled differently so that people who don't wish to see or say the word "Christmas" don't have to. Just so that we can make more money. By no means do I say that we are the only company doing this. In fact I live not 15 minutes away from the best shopping experience in the San Diego county area, containing dozens of stores that would be furious to know that my company is probably doing better than theirs right now.

So last night I found myself at work, for the first time required not to wear the normal uniform, but instead a shirt printed specially for the occasion. It was a bad night. We were short staffed for a job that is hard when it is overstaffed, and none of us are happy about having to endure the store covered in red and white, and listening to 8 straight hours of Christmas music. I wore a jester's version of a Santa hat just to keep my sanity, because it was funny.

After some consideration on the matter, I realize that yes, this experience will drive me crazy, and I will undoubtedly hate the "Christmas Season" even more than usual, but I have come to the conclusion that this is an opportunity for me. Several times in the past few months, God has challenged me to talk to people to whom I would never normally talk to about faith. This is one of those moments. It is a reminder to cherish what is so precious about this holiday, even in November, even before Thanksgiving. It is an opportunity to be able to remind others of this as well, even if they are of a different faith, or less inclined to faith themselves. Maybe I don't have to actually say anything, but instead show them. Show them that despite the relentless and shameless commercialism that we have applied ourselves to promote, we can still pass on the true spirit of Christmas. Even in November.

Surprise Sail Day 2 11.04.07

2007-11-04T20:54:00.000-08:00

Today started off way too early for my comfort. Daylight savings threw me all off, especially as I didn't want to take a chance being late for crew. I woke up around 4:30am, thinking it was 5:30am....one hour too early. Once I realized it, there was no point to going back to sleep.

The Harbor was very quiet, very still and very grey. Fog hid most of the view of the harbor, and at first we were a little nervous about what awaited us as we went out. We've seen as many as three giant cruise ships come in on a morning like this one. The fog cleared enough, however, for us to motor out through the harbor. We continued out to sea, leaving the land behind us in the gloom.

Once the wind picked up we set sails, and attempted time and again to tack the ship, but lacking the speed, weight forward and the right wind speeds, we simply couldn't do it. The fog burned off, the sun came out, and we continued to relax and enjoy ourselves. The director of the Museum, Dr. Ashley, hailed us over the radio, and eventually showed up on his sailboat, the Cassiopeia, with his family. They kept us company for a while, along with a number of other sailboats in the area. At some point during the day we spotted a full regatta going on closer to the coast, and there were comments about going in to break up their party.

Orders were given to start another tacking evolution, and after some tense minutes, with the bow of the ship slowly swinging around, the sails finally caught the right wind and the bow came all the way about. We did it!! Cheers went up all over the ship, for the one time we were able to tack our ship.

The afternoon crept up on us, after all the fun we'd be having, and the captain ordered us to douse sails, and furl the main and the fore courses. We started in to the harbor, and as we motored in, we saw in the distance two ships, almost twins, coming out to meet us. The Californian, and our guest of the week, the Lynx. I was excited because I hadn't seen the Lynx in months and months, not since the last time she left the Newport Harbor. The two revenue cutters came charging down the channel towards us, and as they passed us we could see their gunports open and ready.

Unfortunately for them, some ambitious little catamaran got between us and them and they were unable to fire. We delt out insults and catcalls to accompany their failed manueuvers, as they came about. They regrouped and came at us again, but by this time we were far ahead. The captain shut off the motors and we set tops'ls and t'gallants and continued to sail into the harbor. The Lynx eventually caught up to us, flanking us on the starboard side and commenced in round after round of shots. We jeered and called, and gave them the Monty Python salute, but unfortunately that was all we could do, having no working guns on board. They fell off and came about, coming across our stern and very neatly shot out our rudder (or would have if they'd been using real shot) and proceeded to join back up with the Californian.

This continued all the way to the Museum, by which time we'd doused and furled most of our sails and made up the decks in preparation of threading the needle and parking the ship. Once docked and everything stowed, we took our leave of our wonderful ship. All of us were exhausted and sore, but happy with the day's events, and looking foward to next weekend. We are now ready to accompany the Star of India out on her anniversary next weekend, along with the Californian and the Pilot, and a host of Hornblower ships. Our crew will be honored to host a group of US Navy sailors from the USS Constitution on Saturday, and a delegation of Coasties for both days of the sail.

This is it. Next weekend is what we've been training for for so long.

Pictures of today's events are to be viewed here.

Cheers, mate!

Fulfillment! At Last!

2007-10-28T19:02:00.000-07:00

Today was a day I have longed for, waited for, and worked towards for at least a year and a half. Today was the day that should have happened last year, last October/November. Today was the day, at last, when 50 people hurried on board the HMS Surprise and following the directions of our Captain, worked the lines off the docks and watched the Museum drift away.

We have worked very hard and very long to see this finally happen. We left the dockside to a 3 cheers from the Star Crew. Normally stoic fellows on board were all smiles. My mast captain was more visibly excited than I have ever seen him. My top captain was practically dancing (although I think he was more excited about having a preventer--a line that keeps the Spanker or huge sail on the bow from flapping around when its set--on the Spanker than anything else).

Getting off the dock was a little tense, because of the Surprise's squeezed in parking space between the submarine and the Star, but we managed it without a hitch. When we were far enough away from the Museum, the Captain put the engines in neutral and gave us the plan. We were going to motor up past Shelter Island, to the submarine drydocks and then set sail and come down the harbor to the bridge. This we did with little difficulty, although the wind was virtually non-existent. We just glided gently and slowly down the harbor. We went under the bridge and turned around and motored back to our starting point.

At that point the Captain decided to take us out to sea. We still had very little wind, but there was enough to make our sails fill modestly and our pennant snap at the main masthead. By this time we'd been drawing quite a crowd. I'm pretty sure that the folks who could afford the snazzy condos along the waterfront of downtown SD were feeling that they had their money's worth finally when they saw us coming. We crossed paths with the Lord Hornblower, one of its namesake's lines of touring ferries and boats. The tourists on board flocked to the side where they could best see us. Once we were out to sea, we even had a US Customs boat come speeding up beside us, snapping photos the whole time. We yelled at them in Spanish.

Once out to sea we picked up some more wind. Unfortunately we were not able to master the trick of tacking and swinging the bow of the ship around in the wind. I don't know, maybe there wasn't enough weight forward, or the 7 knots we were doing just weren't enough to move our whale. The tacking had to be assisted by the twin diesels. Hopefully next Sunday we will be able to figure it out. Hopefully we will have more wind.

We started to head back in to the harbor about an hour and a half later than planned, much to the discomfort of our Captain. I think he was worried about upsetting the higher-ups, but we didn't care. We were having way too much fun. As we headed in, we encountered the Californian, which came up and fired a broadside at us. The entire crew, which had been lining the rail, proceeded to fall over dead on the deck. Then we jumped up and gave them the Monty Python salute. There were cheers passed back and forth between the crews, and they proceeded to escort us back to the Museum.

We threaded the needle and parked the ship back in its slot, put everything way and were on our way by 5ish in the evening, instead of the 3pm we'd been shooting for. Every one of us were exhausted, but extremely happy. We are doing it again next weekend, hopefully to the tune of more wind, and getting everything down. The following weekend is the two day sail with the Star of India.

What a day, what a day. Hopefully this is the start of a long and beautiful relationship.

For pictures of this wonderful day, go here, and enjoy!

Cheers, mate!

Goodness Gracious, Great Balls of Fire!!

2007-10-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

Ever since I was a kid, I have loved the movie Top Gun. My mom admitted to me once that she had grown to loathe the movie because I watched it every single day. I loved it. I loved the F-14 Tomcats, the Migs, the aircraft carriers, the dogfights. I loved it all.

Well today I got the chance to visit one of the key locations from the film, or rather, one of the former locations: Miramar Air Base. One of my buddies from Crew consented to go to the annual Miramar Air Show with me. I picked Hector up around noon from his office near the base, and we drove there, found parking and started gawking at all the planes.

Amidst all the modern planes I managed to spot a couple of old WWII planes, lined up for later demonstrations, and got a good shot of a Spitfire (which sadly didn't fly today). While we admired the big cargo planes, the Marines were putting on a demonstration of a rather complicated exercise that involved tanks, helicopters, two F-15s and two Harriers. There were lots of huge explosions, giant plumes of flame and smoke, and lots and lots of noise from the jets flying over.

That finished, and was followed by a demonstration of the F-18, the favorite super-jet of the services. It did some absolutely amazing stuff, and at the end of the day, Hector and I both agreed that the F-18 was the best thing we'd seen. It banked, twisted, turned, pulled loops. Best of all, however, were its abilities to turn on a dime in midair, rather than having to bank around in an arc to change directions. I have never seen a plane do that before. It slowed down as much as possible, flew up (maybe 200 or 300 ft) at a sharp angle, and then seemed to just twist around and back down facing the opposite direction. Unbelievable. It also did a pass by the stands so slow, and so quiet, that Hector and I were actually able to hear each other speak, when we hadn't before. It also did another pass by where a diamond-shaped cloud of air covered the back half of the plane because it was going so fast, and a couple of seconds later the sound caught up to. That was the prettiest breaking of the sound barrier I've ever seen.

Once the F-18 had finished showing off, a flight of Red Baron byplanes did a whole bunch of really well done stunts, followed by a civilian flight of jets called the Patriots, and finally, but not lastly, the Thunderbirds took to the sky. They were really good, but I have to say that I was a tad disappointed. The bulk of their maneuvers hinged on at least three of the planes, and eventually all five flying in such tight and perfect formation that their wingtips must not have been more than about a foot apart. They were thoroughly professional, and really good. But not nearly as exciting and awe-inspiring as the F-18. Still, I got some sweet pictures and videos of them.

The demos, along with being able to walk around all the planes on the ground, and displays and stuff, contributed to a thoroughly enjoyable day.

The F-117 Stealth Fighter...what a sight...

Migs!

F-15...I think. I can't remember.

The C-31, featured in Band of Brothers dropping paratroopers into Normandy.

I'm really glad that I had a former Marine Staff Sergeant to show me around and tell me about all the planes and maneuvers and stuff. Not to mention that working on the same ship gave us lots of comparison to the world of planes, and plenty of sarcasm to enjoy. Man, that was fun. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!!

The Horse I Rode Out On

2007-10-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

For the last couple of years, my Jetta has had more problems than I can remember. Well, a couple of weeks ago, it broke down again. Being that my extended warranty was about to expire, I decided to go in a different direction. I got the car fixed and cleaned, and my folks and I went car shopping. My choices were limited to the Honda Civic, Civic Hybrid, the Toyota Matrix and the Toyota Prius. After driving these cars around, I decided I liked the Prius the best.

So, Quicksilver got traded in for a new Prius. I have to tell you, I felt absolutely horrible about this. Normally one is supposed to be excited about getting a brand new car, but it took me about three days to get over the loss of my beloved station wagon. I will probably never quite get over it, being that it was my first car and all, but my new car and I have come to accept each other.

He (yes, both Quicksilver and my new car are masculine) has been teaching me about how to drive more softly and patiently. And in return for my new driving techniques, I got 41.5 miles to the gallon on my first tank of gas. I have come to respect my new car immensely.

Without further ado, I give you....Kiyoshi-san.

From the various websites I've checked out, Kiyoshi means "quiet", although there is sometimes some discrepancy as to the meaning of that name. I'm going with it regardless. Why a Japanese name, you might ask? Well, because I purchased Kiyoshi at the end of September, and earlier in the month Kiyoshi had been completely built and assembled in Japan. So, he is truly a Japanese car.

May he run quietly, without fuss, wheels and engines working in a smooth ballet of technology for many many years to come.

The President and the Radio Man

2007-10-07T20:55:00.000-07:00

This is a great picture. I grabbed it from APHC's site for last weekend's show. I wish I could have been there in St. Paul to see it first hand. I give you: The President and The Radio Man! (aka Martin Sheen and Garrison Keeler)

I love GK's socks and shoes. I mean really. You've got to have guts to wear a suit and tie and red socks and red shoes.

Constitutional!

2007-09-23T21:53:00.000-07:00

Today was a great day for Sail Crew. It was truly one of the most beautiful days I have ever spent in San Diego.

We spent the morning checking the lines, fixing minor problems, making sure the pinrails were accurate on the Surprise. I am making cheat sheets for everybody, so I had to have an accurate pinrail diagram. A few of us worked on that while the topmen unfurled the sails, but we got no further than that because the Director of the Museum came down to chat with our captain. They chatted, and chatted, and chatted some more. But eventually Mr. Ashley let us get to it. Before we resumed our work, the Captain gave us the news that the Museum had made a deal with the US Navy. A select group of crewmen from the USS Constitution, one of this country's original Navy fighting ships from Boston, are going to come aboard the Surprise for the November sail. And we are going to TRAIN them!!

Apparently many years ago the Surprise, formerly the Rose, was one of the primary sailing school vessels on the East Coast, and specialized in training the folks taking care of the Constitution. So, this is sort of a reunion for them. And a boon for us, because it will give us a bit of excitement, and fill out our crew a bit.

The best part of it is this: For as long as anyone can remember, there has been this little old man sitting at the Museum admissions booth dockside, greeting people as they come in. He is 92 years old, and is the last surviving crew member of the last active crew aboard the USS Constitution, before she was pulled from active duty. He sailed on her as a teenaged seaman in 1933. And now a bunch of crew from his old ship are going to sail onboard the Surprise, and he is going to be our Helmsman! He's going to be steering the ship!

We were so excited about this. Its awesome.

The USS Constitution, nicknamed "Old Ironsides" because shot fired from British ships were seen to bounce off her hull during the War of 1812. She has a long and storied career in the US Navy, being one of the original frigates ordered built by George Washington. She even had copper fastenings wrought by Paul Revere! She spent time in the Mediterranean, which was documented in one of Forester's fictional Hornblower books.

Check out the Navy's site for her, and if you are ever in Boston, she is a must see! Her part in the founding of our great country is just as important as the document she was named after! http://www.ussconstitution.navy.mil/

Strange New Land

2007-09-22T21:57:00.000-07:00

Before I go to bed this night, I just want to make a note of a nice difference between living down here, and living in Newport. People here that I've met at work, both at Starbucks and teachers I've worked with recognize and show interest in the fact that I devote so much of my time to the Maritime Museum. They actually know what it is, and a few recognized my ship! I even met a 7th grader who said she'd been on one of the overnight programs on the Star of India!

In Newport, people would just nod and smile, and move on. But here, even in North County, what I do is well known! Awesome!

Cheers!

Go Figure

2007-09-22T15:36:00.000-07:00

I moved into a great apartment last weekend....an apartment that unfortunately happens to be in a black hole of cell phone signal. The bathroom tends to be the best place to have a conversation with someone.

So, I went onto T-Mobile's website to see what the deal was. Here's what I found.

That "X" in the middle is my apartment complex. Go figure. *sigh*

"...you go to pieces so fast, people get hit by the shrapnel!"

2007-09-21T16:09:00.000-07:00

Today marks the second day in a row that I have spent time around elementary school kids.

Thursday I was with a Special Ed class all day, which was interesting. There were about 8 or so kids, half who were incapacitated in some form or another, and the other half who were down syndrome kids. All in all, I found the kids to be cool, though one or two of the DS kids were extremely stubborn, which made for an interesting recess. To be honest, it was their teacher that I had issues with. She was nice, to be sure, but one of the most frenetic and disorganized individuals I've ever worked with. Her aides (one of which I was replacing for the day) were very capable, and seemed to be able to do everything calmly and efficiently. The teacher, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. It was a mildly frustrating day because of that.

Today I was an aide for the P.E. Dept. at San Marcos Elementary. I just got home, and let me tell you, I'm rather sore. We played soccer all day. I wish I knew more about soccer, but it didn't seem to matter. 3 periods in a row of little kids, split into several teams, and running around small areas of grass, colliding with each other, desperately trying to kick the ball generally in the right direction. And in the middle of each field, there were inevitably a small knot of kids who (regardless of which team they were on) would just stand there and cringe when the ball came in their direction. Then there were the kids who completely went to pieces when the ball smacked into them from two feet and the foot of those particularly passionate soccer maniacs. There were no major disasters, though quite a few kids trying to play up a tumble into the grass, or pretending to have a broken leg to get a penalty. I guess a few of them were watching Portugal play in the World Cup last year.

So far subbing has been interesting. Next week I am in the same class all week, a Learning Handicap class at the elementary level again. I have no idea what to expect.

Cheers!

Movin' Out

2007-09-15T07:56:00.001-07:00

Today is the last day for me in Corona Del Mar. I got up and started taking off the sheets and breaking down the bed. Most of my stuff is packed, and the majority of it is already waiting for me in my new apartment.

I'm sad to go, because this studio is so cute. And I've lived here for almost 3 years by myself. So, I'm rather attached to it. And I'm attached to CDM. I'd always wanted to live here, and didn't ever think there was a chance in hell that I'd be able to afford it. I was wrong about the first part of that. Now that I'm leaving, I'm going to miss it terribly. I'm going to miss waking up in the morning and hearing the sound of sea lions calling to each other in the distance. I'm going to miss the pitch black neighborhood at night, so dark that you can practically see every star in the sky on a clear night. *sigh*

This will be my last post for a few days, because I don't have internet at my new place till Tuesday. When I post again, I'll put up pics of my new place.

Cheers!

Last Night

2007-09-13T23:29:00.000-07:00

Saying goodbye sucks. Tonight I said goodbye to my store. My last close. My last night working with Melissa.

It couldn't have been a better night. There weren't very many customers, we got all the cleaning done early, and I got to work with two of my favorite people. I brought in my iPod and speakers, and we played great music all night, and just had a great time. A couple of my coworkers even came in to say goodbye! Oh man. A good night.

I'm going to miss them all. I just hope and pray that my new store is a good one, and the people there are nice. I really really hope it is a good store. *sigh*

I had a moment earlier this evening along the lines of "oh shit, what the F*** am I doing??? I'm leaving one of the few places I desperately wanted to live, I'm leaving my family, I'm moving to a completely unknown city, and I don't know anyone there!" Which isn't entirely true, since my godfather lives there, and a couple of my mates from the Museum live around there, but still. I hope this works out. I hope this isn't the biggest mistake of my life.

Paul, you asshole, why couldn't you have kept the rent at $990 instead of raising it to almost $1200 a month???? Its a STUDIO!!! *sigh*

Affogato??

2007-09-13T00:58:00.000-07:00

So a man walked into Starbucks today and walked up to the counter to order. He asked the New Guy for a drink made Affogato style, which I had earlier learned was a drink normally made with whipped cream on top, but instead was drizzled with chocolate sauce and a shot poured on top.

I was changing the trash when he asked for this drink, and I stood up and said "Affogato? Wow! Affogato how to make that!" (pronounced Ah fohgat-how to make that!) He looked at me and started to explain what it was, and then stopped. He started laughing, and my assistant manager walked up and the joke was repeated to him and chaos ensued. I swear Mark didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

Of course everyone blamed me for cracking a really bad joke, but you have to understand. I'm not one of those people who can come up with great lines or jokes on the fly. I have had my moments, but they are few and far between. I rather thought that today's joke was a good one! Especially as I came up with it in about .5 seconds! Mark started making all sorts of awful puns, but I thought mine had been the best.

*sigh* everyone's a critic. ;)

After So Many Months...

2007-09-02T23:11:00.000-07:00

Today started as most other early Sunday mornings do for me on Maintenance Day. I got up very early, clambered into my car, made my stop at Starbucks for coffee and breakfast, and got on the road. After an uneventful drive punctuated only by a spectacular sunrise, I arrived early in San Diego.

There were only a few people on deck this early, but all of them were focused on Peter, one of the miracle workers in the Museum's staff. He was telling this tale of researching, making phone calls, and a meeting that took place at noon sometime last week. His telling finished with his dancing a jig on deck, with all of us open-mouthed at the news his story brought us. The H.M.S Surprise, the ship we've all worked almost a year to get by Coast Guard red tape to sail, is finally going to be allowed to leave dockside and set sail.

We've been waiting so long to hear this news that we almost gave up hope it would ever happen. Our Captain was soon on board, and though he didn't say anything to anybody, he was absolute beaming. I've never seen him that happy.

When crew muster finally began, and announcements were made about various things, the news was released to the entire Museum crew. I've never heard so many "three cheers for...!!" Captain Chris and Peter were seriously the happiest men on board. And better yet, by the time the muster had come to order a little while before, the lists were posted up with the names of those who'd passed the annual exam and what ship they were posted to.

When muster broke up and we scattered to our respective vessels, there were 49 Surprises and one Captain at the break in the quarterdeck of the Surprise ready to sail. All we have left to do to satisfy the Coast Guard that we are ready is to be able to launch a little inflatable power boat over the side for rescue ops in 5 minutes or less. With some practice to work out the kinks, we did it in 3 minutes 56 seconds. "Hip Hip! Hooray!"

So, the week after next training begins in earnest. Three months, every Sunday at 7:30, I will be on board the Surprise, standing at the mizzen, ready to handle braces, clews, buntlines, and halyards.

On November 10th and 11th, WE ARE GOING SAILING!!

A Full Moon and the Best Pair of Binoculars!

2007-08-28T00:06:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had one of those days where you just felt insufferably good? That was the day for me today. Or so it seemed as I neared the end of it.

I was scheduled for a six hour work shift (which turned out to be seven or so). But this is my kind of shift, because I was allowed to spend a good four hours of it doing artwork. I love doing the artwork. You know the boards above the Barista Bar? and behind the counter? the boards that tell you what the Daily Offering is, or the Coffee of the Week? Well, I get to do those at my store. My favorite thing to do on shift.

The top one I had total creative freedom on. Usually there is
a promo drawing they'd like you to copy, or in my case,
elaborate on. The one below was predetermined, and
I could find no fault with it. Very cool design.

One of my coworkers, Marc. Since we don't have any photos
of the employees, I started doing custom portraits of them.
He's the third to make it onto the boards.

My favorite drink to make? A Venti Iced Caramel Macchiatto. First you put pumps of vanilla at the bottom, then the milk, then the ice, then the shots and finally the caramel. It creates this drink that is white from the bottom to about halfway up, then turns brown as it gets to the top, with great drips of golden caramel sinking to the bottom. It is a true work of art. I have never tasted it.

The Venti Iced Caramel Macchiatto, with,
as the customer ordered it, Insane CR
(lots and lots of extra caramel sauce).

My favorite thing to drink? A creation of a coworker of mine, a soy frappuccino. Now, if you are fans of soy and/or frappuccinos, don't go rushing to your local Starbucks asking for one. They don't exist. Baristas don't know how to make it. We are not really even supposed to use the blenders for soy. And the frappucinos are a pre-mixed base that work well for blending, whereas soy just creates a slushy drink. It doesn't exist. But it tastes sooooo good. I could drink several in a day and be happy.

The day went pretty well, considering that I am sick because of the changes in the weather. I helped a coworker change all the merchandise displays, and in return got to sort through our box of marked out items, scoring lots of free stuff. That made me happy.

Then I went to my folks place for dinner. Oh man. If ever there was a class on how to get stressed out, they'd be the first to teach it. I spent a few hours there, trying to help out. After some wine, my mom relaxed a bit, cheered up a little. I was able to banter with her and have a little fun. Jeff refused to feel better though, and that was a bummer.

As I stepped out of their house and looked up in the sky, I knew right then and there that there is way more to life than house problems and money problems and stress over packing and being sick and moving and getting jobs. There is the Moon. High in the sky, completely full, on a clear night. And tonight is special! Tonight, despite the fact that I am sick and want to sleep, I am staying up till 2:30 in the morning to watch one of the best and most beautiful Total Lunar Eclipses I'll probably ever see. Awesome! Proof that God is Amazing!

A Saturday to Die For

2007-08-18T22:53:00.000-07:00

How the day starts has always affected its outcome for me. If I wake up in the morning, with just the right amount of sunlight streaming in, coming off of a perfect dream and I got just enough sleep, chances are the day will go well.

If your landlord calls you at 8:15 on a SATURDAY morning (as mine did this morning), asking to show your soon-to-be-vacated apartment to some people at 9, chances are the day won't go so well.

"Oh, did I wake you?"

"yes." I am grumpy, and mostly asleep, having just been dreaming of taking some all important exam that would decide the fate of my future career....

"Well, I have some folks who want to come around 9,"

"Paul, its a Saturday morning." omg. why why why why

"Well, that's when people are looking for apartments. Are you going to be able to be out by the 31st?" No, Paul, that's not when people are looking at apartments. I would know. I'VE been looking at apartments for 4 weeks now. No one has been willing to show at NINE in the MORNING. And no, I'm not ready on the 31st. We talked about this. My new place won't be ready till the 15th of September, and you said I could stay. Don't go changing your mind now...

"I'm sorry Paul, I'm not awake right now. Can we talk in a little bit?"

"Yeah, I'll be up there at 9." Great. That gives me 45 minutes to wake up, have breakfast, down some caffeine, and take out the trash. Great.

"ok." No, its not okay. Whatever.

The rest of the day did not improve. A SoCal heat wave has made my apartment virtually unbearable for the duration of the sun's travels through the sky, and I just want to be wearing a tank and playing Halo 2. Instead, I worked on making progress packing and cleaning. I power through the kitchen, but I'm still only a quarter of the way through the things I need to do in there. I cleaned All Day. And the people who were going to come at 4 with Paul decided to stop by themselves, early, just to see the place.....which is what they were going to do...at 4.... I was not ready for them. Didn't my lovely landlord put something on his sign that says "Please Do Not Disturb Tenant" ???? I mean, really.

I finally get some relief when I took a nice, refreshing cold shower before going to work, but things did not improve when I got there. My shift lead didn't reply to my cheerful greeting, and I immediately sensed trouble. I later came to understand the trouble had nothing to do with me, but man, this girl has an attitude when she's not feeling well.

And my coworker, a guy that I've come to enjoy working with because he's funny and witty, and a little gritty too, decided to get onto an extra large soapbox towards the end of the evening. He started to rant about religion, which I took as mildly as possible. But finally he got my goat. I don't yet know how to argue my faith convincingly enough to someone determined not to believe, so I decided to ask him a question.

"Mark, would you die for someone you loved?" Easy question. But you have to answer it honestly.

"Oh yeah, of course. Without a question."

"Okay, well, would you die for a complete stranger?"

"No. There are too many assholes who are complete strangers. I wouldn't die for an asshole." Ouch. That was harsh, and a bit jaded. My outlook on Mark changes a bit.

"Let me ask you the same question a little differently. If you saw a man trip and fall into a street with oncoming traffic, and you had the ability to save his life at the cost of your own, would you do it?"

Since we were working, and not in the same room through the entire course of this conversation, I couldn't quite understand his answer to this question. But in the end, he said no. And asked me if I would do the same. To save another human being? I don't know. Honestly. But I feel as though I would. It feels right. The ultimate sacrifice. He countered this argument with "what if you saved someone like Hitler? What if that person got worse? More evil?" Then my sacrifice for that person would have been wasted, but not for myself. The intent was still out of love. That's the point. Jesus died for his friends, the people he knew, the people in Israel who knew him, and For EVERYONE Else. Past and Future. As a human man there was no way he could have personally known so many, as well as loved every single one of them. But he was still willing to die for them. But now, as He is, He does know every single person. And anyone who wants to can feel the amazing love that he had then and has now! And forever!! That is what fills me with joy every time I think of it. That was what I wanted Mark to understand.

Now I sit at my computer, contemplating what love means, and needing desperately to sleep so I can get up at a ridiculous hour in the morning to go play on ships. I made it through Saturday. I'm just not sure I made it through unscathed...

cheers.

The Last Battle

2007-08-04T21:30:00.000-07:00

Last spring I wrote of the Great Spider War, in which many many scores of spiders perished in a jet of water and copious amounts of insecticide. I wrote of the capture of the Tree by the enemy, and how I vanquished them. I also wrote of the continuous guerrilla tactics used by the infamous Spiders in the following months, sneaking in the house, taking over the kitchen cabinets, appearing in my shower, and on my bed covers.

Well, today it is my great pleasure to inform you that the Great Spider War is nearly over. The troops are returning home so to speak. I say this because I achieved a great victory today.

During the cold months of winter, the spiders retreated into their strongholds, making the kitchen cabinets their main base of operations. Once they pulled back, they did not show their ugly heads till the spring arrived. Shortly after the warm weather set in, I found that the Staircase, the Tree, and now the Mailbox had been infiltrated and occupied.

I was at a loss as to what to do. I was so surrounded, and had relatively no way of forcing them back that I was forced to make do with their occupation and do my best to ignore them.

No longer. Today my Landlord returned and provided me with the long-hoped for aid in the fight. A hose. A very powerful hose at that. I imagine that the troops invading Europe against Hitler felt similarly when brand new Howitzers arrived to crush the Panzer divisions.

I commenced with Operation Purge. Within 20 minutes the whole of the Staircase and Tree had been sprayed clean of cobwebs and whatever else had been hiding in the muck. The Mailbox was similarly sprayed as best as possible, however, since it is crammed with Mail, I thought to wait till the morn' to deal with its occupants. I then applied a covering fire of insecticide over the crucial territories to prevent retaliation.

This Event, along with the Great Vacuuming by my good friend General Lasswell, has deprived the enemy of yet another stronghold. They have attempted another incursion into the kitchen, but I will be dealing with those one or two brash rebels very harshly indeed.

I have noted this Event as the Last Battle because in three weeks time I will not have to deal with this problem anymore. I shall be moving on to new Lands. Hopefully they will be free of such enemies.

Packing

2007-08-04T12:24:00.000-07:00

As I sit here packing up all of my stuff to move to a new habitat, I wonder at the weight of my boxes. I have 5 boxes of books packed up, and only one of them isn't that heavy because it is filled with comic books. The others are heavy enough to make me wish I had help.

I just finished packing a sixth box. It is smaller than the others, and I filled it every sketch book I could find. Filled it to the top. And when I picked it up to see how heavy it was, I discovered that it was fairly lightweight. I got to wondering, is that the weight of my art? Those sketchbooks represent the last 10 years of my sketches and drawings. They don't weigh much....what does that mean?

Enough waffle. Back to work!

Cheers

Potter for President

2007-07-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

Elizabeth and I stood in line at Barnes and Noble last night for our reserved copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. She dropped me off at home at 12:15, and I started reading it at 12:30am. There were a few breaks: bathrooms, food, drink, caffeine (which i didn't need much of), and now it is 10:00am. Done.

Thank you J.K. Rowling, for your masterpiece. Thank you for seven years of magic and Hogwarts, a place I dearly wish I could go. Thank you for friends that will always be there in books to be visited time and time again. And thank you for Albus Dumbledore.

Angry Baby

2007-07-19T14:11:00.001-07:00

So what do you do with an Angry Baby?

I'm sitting here, 4 minutes and counting on having left the baby in her crib for her afternoon nap, waiting for her to stop crying. She was quite content to doze on my shoulder, but the second I put her in the crib, she becomes an angry creature, emitting piercing sounds of distress over the indignation of being put to bed. But what do you do? She showed all the signs of afternoon sleepiness: the rubbing of eyes with fists, the heavy sighs, the kneading of hands and feet, even the occasional unwarranted teariness.

And yet, the crib is simply intolerable. So here I wait, hoping that she cries herself to sleep. We are now 7 minutes and counting.

This is the part I've always hated about babysitting kids still young enough to need naps during the day. I've always felt bad about submitting them to the agony of having to take an afternoon nap. It is really hard to hear them cry.

*Sigh*

My Friends Rock

2007-07-17T16:38:00.000-07:00

This goes out to the wonderful and generous Meggish the Spider-Slayer.

When complaining (yet again) of the odious task of vacuuming, aka killing, the spiders out of my kitchen cabinets, and how afraid I was of it, the Meggish volunteered to do it for me! And right then and there, she lept into her orange vessel and made her swift way to my humble abode. She spent a couple of hours fearlessly vacuuming up the cabinets, freeing them of their spidery tenants. Apparently I need to make sure to put my flour in an airtight container in the future. The spiders were attracted to the abundance of tiny little beetles that have been plaguing my kitchen for months, the source of which I could not discover until today. (I haven't opened up those cabinets in a very very long time.)

In return for her gallantry, the Meggish was rewarded with two wicker baskets that fit her bookcase, several choice books that were in my "Give Away" pile, and coffee. I hope that this was a just reward, for I feel that I owe her so much more.

Thankee kindly, good lady.

Cheers!

the score

2007-07-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I was having some serious issues, which I made light of on this blog.

I just wanted to say that things are better.

First of all, (and this might sound strange to some), I have totally given over my life to God. That has been a complete release. My life hasn't gotten much easier, but now i know how to deal with it. I feel so much better. Its hard to explain, but if you want to chat about it, email me.

Second, I've started cleaning out my apartment. It doesn't look much better, but things are now in boxes; bags and bags of trash have been thrown out, and this week I plan on tackling my spider infestation in the kitchen cabinets with a vaccuum cleaner. There's still lots to do, but I have a handle on it now. Yay!

Third, I have a part time job. It is not even close to being enough to pay for things, but I'm getting there. I have hope because in a few weeks school will start, and I can start substituting. I'm working at Starbucks, which I plan on taking with me wherever I end up at the end of August, and working in the evenings. I like it. Its not very complicated, and the only hard part is not getting too flustered by waves of anxious, demanding customers ordering things like a venti half-decaf upside-down nonfat latte with 2 pumps of caramel and extra foam. Hehehe, yeah, you know who you are out there.

And finally, I'm on my own. It has been extremely difficult and unpleasant to not have money in my bank account, and having help from family, but on the other hand, I now know the absolute importance of finding work and have significant motivation to get my ass moving. Letting God take care of me helps too. I find that things are suddenly there for me, that all I need to do is reach out and take them. Again...hard to explain.

Extras are the Museum, of course, providing a welcome distraction on Sundays. We had our yearly Sail Crew testing today, and I am pretty sure I did okay. I just hope that all the hard work and hours and hours of driving will pay off, and this year I'll make crew, be posted on the Surprise, and we'll get to sail this year. It seems that the only thing in the way of our leaving dockside with our sails set is submitting the sail plan to the Coast Guard. The Sail plan is essentially a blue-print of the original sail layouts, the weights of the sails, their draw and effect on the ship's movement. It is apparently buried somewhere deep inside the Marine Archives in DC, and they are taking their sweet time trying to find it. It is the last hurdle. Soon. Very soon.

So, that's it! In a few weeks I hope to have moved in to a new place, somewhere nearer to or in San Diego, with a job or two and hopefully teaching in some form or another. I know it sound vague, but I have faith that it will work out.

Cheers!

more sketches

2007-07-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this one started after I'd lain in bed for about half an hour the other night. I was suddenly inspired by something (I can't remember what) and jumping up, turned the light on and grabbed my sketch pad.

The original drawing looks funny here because it was on cream colored paper and the scanner bleached most of that color out.

Here's the Photoshop finish:

sketches

2007-07-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

So lately I've been in the Star Wars mood. Jedi are always fun to draw. On the Fourth, with family and friends occupying most of the available space at my folks' place, I sat by myself drawing. It was my way of taking a break from a day's worth of cooking.

Here's the sketch I did:

And here's the finished Photoshop drawing:

Losing Sleep

2007-06-30T02:04:00.000-07:00

I sit here at my computer at five after two in the morning, fully understanding the meaning of the term "losing sleep". Somebody said something to me today, or more like made a request of me today. A request that by my own clumsy machinations I cannot refuse, yet have no way to make it happen without causing great pain to everyone concerned.

I think it was the full moon. Today was a really crappy day, with one exception. It started out with me having early morning nightmares about money, then getting a call from my mother that she was dropping something off. I went down to meet her, and checked my mail while I waited. I found a letter from a school that I had really hoped to get a job, kindly rejecting my application, and a letter from the City of San Diego, letting me know how much money they were going to relieve me off for going too fast on the 5. Money I don't have. Hence the nightmares.

The day was beautiful, I'll give it that. But I'm wary of such things sometimes. My car was broken (again) and I was stuck for things to do. I walked to the movie theatre to see a movie that was wonderful and charming, yet the power of it was rather lost on me because of the issues wallowing around in my head. My new job called to reschedule my first day at work, and by this time I was working on a beautiful headache.

Then came the request. The one I can't refuse. All of this has led up to me sitting at my computer at 2 in the morning, trying to figure out how to quiet the demons in my head and go to sleep. But I can't. They have pointed out to me what I've failed to see all these years, and because of some well-meaning comments made to me last weekend, I see the truth in what they say. I really have made a complete mess of my life.

Ever since I left for school in California, I have been completely unable to take care of myself. I can't pay my bills, I can't keep my living spaces clean, I can't feed myself properly, I have no social life, and I can't figure out how to stop lying to myself and to those around me about my affairs and status in life. Real lies, the kind that pile up, until you can't see past them, and don't know how to get clean again. Its like I need to file for bankruptcy for my life. But I'm afraid I won't know how to do it right the second time.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to come clean, and still be forgiven. Because no matter what I'm still incapable, untrustworthy, and unable to fend for myself. And no matter how much I want to blame how I've turned out on others, I'm still the one at the bottom of the ladder. Ultimately I'm the one to blame.

You wanna know the crazy part of all of this? To keep it all in perspective, I haven't killed anyone, I haven't committed adultery, I haven't been doing drugs or drinking my whole life, I haven't committed treason, I haven't stolen anything, I haven't gotten myself pregnant at the age of 15...the list goes on. But what I have done, in my small, concentrated way I will never shake the shame of all the days of my life.

Dramatic? Yes, well, I'm an artist. A passionate soul. Useless, but passionate nonetheless. That's what happens when you've screwed up (again), others know it and are waiting for you to come clean, and you can't and you are up all night losing sleep over it. And I haven't had anything to drink yet! Imagine what I'd sound like if I'd been drunk (which will never happen. period.).

Well...now it is 2:30, and I have to help my brother move in the morning.

Goodnight.

Wedding Madness

2007-06-25T10:03:00.000-07:00

This weekend provided ample distraction from the pain of letting go of school and facing my future. My cousin Catherine got married on Saturday night to Matthew Williams, and though I doubt they will ever see this, I offer my congratulations. They seemed such the lovely couple. While I really wanted to see the wedding, my brother and I were there to see the madness of our family getting together for the first time in years. People that neither of us had seen in over a decade, people that didn't get along with the rest of the family, people whose minds have left them in uncertainty...they were all there.

To keep track of the madness and craziness, Matt and I kept a tally.

For a little clarification, Jodi is our Aunt, married to our mother's brother, Dennis, and The Girls are their kids. They've been estranged from our family for years, though Dennis is in contact with my grandparents on a regular basis. He's the most normal of them, but is chained to their madness, so we don't see much of him. The only member of my family that manages to get along with them or communicate with them at all is my brother, God bless him. Marian is my grandfather's sister. A few years back she was attacked by a dog, and ever since then has been searching for her mind. Its kind of sad, but she still does the craziest things, and this weekend was no exception. When you get her with my grandfather's other sister, Margaret (who is an elderly felon) and my grandmother in one room, chaos (and memory loss) ensues. If you can get around how sad it is, it is also pretty funny. Nice thing is that I don't think any of them are aware of what's happened to them.

Anyway, Marian took the prize for this weekend, with my grandmother coming in a close second. My grandmother earned lots of points for doing things like dipping the handmade biscotti (made by the mother of the bride) into her iced tea at the reception. Matt and I could hardly contain ourselves.

There are people who are on the list, but because of their tireless efforts to keep the weekend going smoothly, their craziness is being overlooked. I will mention that my brother earned himself a point on Sunday for frantically searching for his cell phone while in the car on the way home. He even made me get his bag from the back seat, search it, then call his phone a couple of times because he'd thought he'd heard it ringing. Then he stuck is hand into the pocket on his door (which he had just vigorously searched) and there it was. Despite passionate protest, he eventually gave in to having earned himself a point.

So, that was our weekend. Thanks to Catherine and Matthew Williams for providing us not only a beautiful wedding to attend, but also a long awaited family renunion where we could be entertained.

Cheers!

Last Day of School, First Day of Summer

2007-06-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

Today is the day that all teachers wait for. Today was the First Day of Summer, and the LAST DAY OF SCHOOL. well....for the kids anyway. We teachers are having brekkist and doing some cleaning and a bit of the turning in of the grades.

This last week has been one of the hardest weeks I've had in a long time. The whole thing brought back bittersweet memories of the last week of my senior year of high school. Only difference about that was to ease the depression I had moving to LA and USC to look forward to. Now I only have unemployment to stare in the face. *sigh*

This whole week I've spent signing year books, or rather doing elaborate drawings or portraits in year books. I never want to draw someone's face at their request again. Yesterday was spent saying goodbye to all the students I've come to care for so deeply, and trying very hard not to cry. I don't know if they will ever understand how much they affected me, and I know that I will probably see many hundreds more like them in the years to come, but still. Every year will be hard. The fate of the teacher.

So now I have to figure out what to do next. At the moment I'm going to sleep, and then get up early to finish grading finals and finish grades. Then I'm going to do my best not to dread too much yet get too excited about the series finale of a show that has been a very important part of my life for a long time. When the time comes, I will watch it, and hopefully be well rewarded by my faith in the SciFi Channel, then go to bed and get up early Saturday morning to subject myself to a wedding in Fresno.

Why oh why? *sob*

Anyway, cheers to the First Day of Summer and the Last Day of School. It was a good day.

GK Is My Hero

2007-06-13T19:38:00.000-07:00

I found this little jem on the front page of the LA Times online today. After wrapping up a stellar performance of "A Prairie Home Companion" at the Greek Theatre last Friday night (which I can't believe I missed), Garrison Keeler inexplicably felt the need to express pride in a city he only visits once or twice a year. I totally agree with what he has to say about the city of angels. Enjoy!

La Pura Vida Beckons in L.A.

cheers!

Knot Proficient

2007-06-04T18:15:00.000-07:00

Thanks to one of my mates, Bert, here is a picture of me puzzling over a knot. Several people on Sunday asked me if it was a Matthew Walker knot, which in fact it was not. I was tying a Tack knot, which can be accomplished by first making a crown knot and then a wall knot on top. Then you double back the crown and tuck the ends in the center. It can be found on page 35 of that handy book the wonderful Fiona was holding up for reference (thank you Fiona).

The hammock netting is coming along swimmingly, though a little too slow for my liking. That's mostly something I have to get over, as we all have other things to do. But I am getting faster at weaving on my rig at home, so I hope to have the netting done by the time the Surprise finally gets to sail. The sections we've finished are already looking better.

Cheers!

Hawai'i - Day One continued...

2007-05-26T17:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, so back to where I left off. I love flying, so getting on the plane and taking off was very exciting. The flight itself was relatively uneventful, though I was sitting next to and amongst a large group of high school girls flying out to Hawai'i for a band competition. The girl next to me wouldn't sit still for the entire five hour flight, and kept taking pictures of herself and one of her buddies. *sigh*.

The approach to the islands was very cool. Five hours of blue ocean and some clouds broken by 30 minutes of flying past really beautiful drops of land. We saw the Big Island first, with its volcanoes, then Maui, then Molokai and L'anai, and finally looking down saw Diamondhead and Oahu. We flew over Honolulu and Waikiki, and past the island, to turn and bank in and down and land in Honolulu. It was a beautiful approach.

I got off the plane, found the rental place, got my car, and with the help of Jeff's navigation device, made my way out of Honolulu and heading towards Waianae (the town where the school is). In a valley next to Waianae is the town of Makaha, where the resort and golf club was that I was staying at. I got there in good time. What I saw on the way up there gave me second thoughts. The beaches all the way up the coast were covered in makeshift tents of all kinds, and old, broken down cars. I'd been warned by the lady at the rental car agency that those tents belonged to homeless people. After a while, the beaches cleared slightly and I found myself in Waianae, passing the high school.

This area looked pretty rough. In my mind I was comparing it to the rundown areas of Delray and Deerfield Beach in Florida, and the shabbier parts of Watts and Santa Ana where my current high school is. A lot of it reminded me of towns I'd seen in Central Texas, as most of the soil on the island is a deep red color, and quite a bit of this area tries to be agricultural. The whole time I was thinking, "where is the tropical paradise I've been reading about?". But I had been forwarned by my readings about this area. I guess I wasn't quite prepared for the reality of it. These things always look different in my head.

The resort was beautiful. The only thing that kept me from totally enjoying it was that it was soooooooo humid. It was hot too, but that had something to do with the fact that I had worn jeans for the flight. But the humidity was oppressive. I mean, I almost think it was worse than Florida, but I'm not sure since I've become so accustomed to SoCal living. I immediately missed the cool, dry air of CDM and the SoCal coast. I'd brought my big Museum Crew jacket with me, and I knew right away that if I moved there, I would never get a chance to wear it. Now I know what that book I read meant when it said that a true islander gives all of their cold weather clothes to the Salvation Army.

Once I got my room, I pretty much passed out (since I'd been up since 4am my time, and that was a long flight) until dinner time-ish. I headed back out for dinner in Honolulu, wanting to explore a bit. I was pretty tired though, and didn't end up doing much exploring. I went back to the resort and that ended my day. The weather was pretty dull, so the sunset wasn't exciting or anything.

That's all for Day One.

Hawai'i - Day One

2007-05-26T12:39:00.001-07:00

Last week, I had the great fortune to be able to go visit Hawai'i. However, while I had planned to spend quite a lot of time relaxing, and not thinking of any of my students for 3 days, I wasn't there entirely for fun. I went because I was checking out a job opportunity.

A few weeks ago, I went to a job fair in Long Beach (a job fair for teachers) and I spent quite a while talking to a school from Hawai'i. They got really excited when they found out all the artistic things I can do and teach. The principal of the school, Joann, went off for a few minutes and then returned to tell me that she'd created a class on the spot, a class for Graphic Arts for next year. They were so excited. So, I went home very happy, and very bewildered. How could it be that easy? There had to be something more to it.

Turns out there was. The high school is in a town on Oahu, that has the reputation of being one of the roughest, toughest neighborhoods in Hawai'i. It is mostly native Hawai'ian, and Pacific Islander, and from what I've heard and read, is compared to places like Inglewood and Watts. It is also on the side of the island of Oahu that is the hottest, brownest side -- the Leeward side. I did a lot of reading and researching about the island, the town, and Hawai'i in general. Now it was time to go visit the school.

When I left LA I had the mental position that whatever this job was, it was a job and that is hard to find for an art teacher. I figured that if I had done my student teaching in LA, most likely I would end up at a school that was no different, really. And that is still true. But I wasn't really prepared for what I found.

Um...I'll continue this in another post. I don't want it to get too long, and I have to go keep my grandmother company.

ta!

A Temporary Truce

2007-05-04T23:11:00.000-07:00

This morning, upon entering the ceramics room with one of my students, I happened to notice something that would normally disturb the heck out of me. I was getting my pottery supplies out of the cabinet when I saw a spider, calmly hanging from a long strand of web, from the ceiling above the glaze area. This would be the perfect place for someone to walk into the little bugger. It was about a 1/4 of an inch big. So, I got a piece of paper towel, and amidst protest from my student, walked over to the spider. But instead of squishing it, I decided to very carefully tease it into a fold of the towel and walk it outside. I did warn it that I would smush it if it came at me. But it stayed in one spot. I carried it outside, and let it on the ground in the courtyard, by the fence where it would be safe.

The reason for telling you about this is that I NEVER save spiders. I don't like them. I'm pretty sure they don't like me. I haven't been in my loft in months because I know they are up there. And they have completely taken over my cabinets in my kitchen. But this one time...I just didn't feel like killing it. It wasn't until after I rescued it that I realized today was the day that Spiderman 3 came out. I didn't save the spider because of that, I just realized it afterwards. Weird.

So, this post is for you, little eight-legged one, wherever you may be. I wish your cousins were as benign. Then I wouldn't have to wage constant war on them all.

ta.

First Day Out

2007-04-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

Well, today I had an interesting adventure. Last August I went sailing on the Robert C. Seamans, as I noted a while ago on my blog My Camel Broke Down. On the sail I was in a watch with a fellow by the name of Ed Steiner, who turned out to not only be awesome, but also one of the bigwigs at the Los Angeles Maritime Institute. I hadn't heard from him in a while till I got an email a few weeks ago. I decided to see what I could do to participate at LAMI in my spare time. Today I went out on a volunteer training sail on the Exy Johnson.

I have to admit...I was a little unprepared to go out sailing today. First of all, from my phone call to Ed about coming to LAMI, I got the impression that volunteer training would be simple sitting in some room for a couple of hours watching training videos and having lecture, then filling out some forms. No....it was actually sailing. So, I came dressed in my good jeans, and my comfy teacher's shoes, and had no hat. Luckily I had my sunglasses, and half a bottle of water. But I had no food, no sailing gloves, no sunscreen, and no knife and spike for my belt.

Despite my obvious lack of preparation, the trip was a complete success. Thanks to my experience in San Diego, and my sail on the Seamans with three of the people who headed the crew on the Exy, I was treated practically like I was crew too. I really enjoyed that. It was nice to have plenty of experience hauling on lines, belaying, coiling, setting sail and all that jazz. I even got to go out on the bowsprit to furl sails (the bowsprit is a place I dearly love to be, though I don't know why...).

All in all, I think it was a great experience. I really look forward to doing it again. Thankfully they sail on Saturdays, and every 2nd and 4th Saturday of the month, so I can do that and still go to San Diego on 1st and 3rd Sundays. And the driving to Long Beach isn't quite as far, which is nice. This way I think I can fully satiate my relentless need to be on the deck of a ship. And this way I also get to work with kids, since that is what LAMI is all about! Sweet!

But man, am I sore....especially my feet. My teacher's shoes are nice comfy loafers and not designed to withstand the discomfort of standing on the netting of the head rig on the bowsprit, or standing on stays while furling sails. Next time I will come wearing my tough hiking boots. And I will wear sunscreen...my face is as red as an apple. But at least I got to sail, and that's all that matters.

The Exy Johnson

Cheers!

my new blog

2007-04-27T21:28:00.001-07:00

yay! I have a blog with a title that I can relate to! weee!