i just finished packing. it's been a long while since i've loaded my backpack with gear. i had it down to such a science when i went backpacking every single weekend.
soon, i will be backpacking again. in a place i consider "home". it may be a bit odd to consider a national park one's home, but to me, yosemite will always feel like going home. it's been three summers since i lived there. that summer i lived there was life altering in so many ways. to me, yosemite represents freedom, simplicity, exploration and adventure. i long for all of those things, so it is with much glee that i pack to go home.
i will see dear friends i've missed. jenny. zara. who knows who else? secret crushes. the people who live there look out for one another; it's an odd community, but a tightly knit one. though i've been gone for three years, in some ways it will be like i never left. the yosemite hook-up of friends taking care of one another is still going strong.
there are places i've never been, even in the valley. hidden falls. can you believe it? i have less than 24 hours in the valley before we depart on the hiker's bus for our backpacking trip of the grand canyon of the tuolumne, but i plan to wring every last drop out of those precious minutes. jenny promises to take me to hidden falls. i want to see the indian caves again, a place very dear to me because of some special time there with paul. i'd like to go to devil's bathtub, but probably won't. i want to hang on the pizza deck on a saturday night. the river is low this year, and i want to grab the last day of rafting on the merced with beer and friends while lazily meandering the last of the trickle.
my hands smell like the mosquito repellent i packed an hour ago. the smell may be noxious to some, but for me, it's a reminder of home.
June 28, 2007
June 12, 2007
What would you name your traffic school?
Not to spill Paul's business, but he got a speeding ticket a while back. By paying a fine and going to traffic school he can avoid points on his license. Traffic school. Sounds dull and awful, doesn't it? Apparently whoever came up with "Comedy Traffic School" was on to something. It addressed the notion of sitting through some boring class. Looking through the Yellow Pages, Paul read off to me a long list of traffic school names that made "Comedy Traffic School" sound mundane. There was "Fun! Fun! Fun! and PIZZA!" traffic school, the was just ho-hum "Fun Fun Fun! Traffic School" and various permutations that guaranteed FUN!!!
Thinking about the marketing of traffic school made me think they're focusing too narrowly on their creative ideas for traffic school.
I want to start the "Bitches with Whips" traffic school, staff it with a few dommes. I'm certain it would be a hit in San Francisco.
Thinking about the marketing of traffic school made me think they're focusing too narrowly on their creative ideas for traffic school.
I want to start the "Bitches with Whips" traffic school, staff it with a few dommes. I'm certain it would be a hit in San Francisco.
June 11, 2007
Why are Mondays So Rough?
They just are. Today was a Big Brain day at work. Had to think a lot, juggle too much, and negotiate many large and small details. i blasted out of work around 6, hell bent on making it to a spin class. Traffic was unusually cooperative and I made it. It felt good, necessary, and right to be breaking a sweat. I was/am getting cranky. There was a palpable tension in the air today at work. That's not right for a Monday.
I'm on a crazy endless Pixies kick right now. Have listened to nothing else for two days. It won't leave my brain. Music I hear while getting tattooed etches itself in deeply. Pixies rule. How did I overlook all this goodness in my itunes?
My bike frame is built! It's been shipped off to get painted now, where it will be made uniquely mine. It's getting a purple paint job with lotus flowers and skull 'n crossbones airbrushed on. If that isn't rad, I don't know what is.
P i x i e s r u l e m y b r a i n . . . .
I'm on a crazy endless Pixies kick right now. Have listened to nothing else for two days. It won't leave my brain. Music I hear while getting tattooed etches itself in deeply. Pixies rule. How did I overlook all this goodness in my itunes?
My bike frame is built! It's been shipped off to get painted now, where it will be made uniquely mine. It's getting a purple paint job with lotus flowers and skull 'n crossbones airbrushed on. If that isn't rad, I don't know what is.
P i x i e s r u l e m y b r a i n . . . .
June 9, 2007
This week
More tattoo fun! I wasn't supposed to get inked until next weekend. I'd emailed Marcus asking him if he thought two weeks was enough time to heal before heading out on my backpacking trip over the July 4th weekend. He called me and squeezed me in, saying another week healing would be best. It's essentially done; I might need a half hour to touch some stuff up. I'm pretty happy with it. It fits much better than my old tattoo. But damn Marcus, he keeps leaving things open to the possibilites of extending my tattoos.
No more ink until after Nepal!
This week was rough. Paul found out on Wednesday that he needed surgery the next day. I'm in the middle of a big production, but I was fortunate enough to juggle my schedule so I could pick him up from the hospital Good thing I did, too. When he was leaving, he nearly passed out. I returned upstairs to find his nurse running, saying "He felt a little dizzy." I follow her to find him on a bed, shirt off and absolutely pouring sweat, mumbling incoherently about his hands going into claw-hand. Low oxygen, I noted. He was pale. Blood pressure was way down (down around where my normal BP is!, but I have almost concerningly low BP). He was experiencing symptoms of shock. I could go on an on, but it was a long evening spent reacting to Demerol. Demerol is satan. Don't take it!
Work was crazy this week, but crazy is the norm. I'm seeing a decent amount of overtime, that's for sure. Time and a half isn't such a bad thing.
Berkeley Farmer's Market this morning. Blueberries! No yoga, due to to inkage. Luna dog is lying asleep at my feet. Massage tomorrow. All in all, I can't complain.
No more ink until after Nepal!
This week was rough. Paul found out on Wednesday that he needed surgery the next day. I'm in the middle of a big production, but I was fortunate enough to juggle my schedule so I could pick him up from the hospital Good thing I did, too. When he was leaving, he nearly passed out. I returned upstairs to find his nurse running, saying "He felt a little dizzy." I follow her to find him on a bed, shirt off and absolutely pouring sweat, mumbling incoherently about his hands going into claw-hand. Low oxygen, I noted. He was pale. Blood pressure was way down (down around where my normal BP is!, but I have almost concerningly low BP). He was experiencing symptoms of shock. I could go on an on, but it was a long evening spent reacting to Demerol. Demerol is satan. Don't take it!
Work was crazy this week, but crazy is the norm. I'm seeing a decent amount of overtime, that's for sure. Time and a half isn't such a bad thing.
Berkeley Farmer's Market this morning. Blueberries! No yoga, due to to inkage. Luna dog is lying asleep at my feet. Massage tomorrow. All in all, I can't complain.
June 5, 2007
is it me?
do most people resent having to spend so much of their life working?
i do. yet i am strong, not weak. i can work my ass off. i am one of the most dilligent, organized, focused people i know.
is it because i expend so much energy on work that doesn't resonate within? does work hold such deep meaning for most people?
there's this CD (creative director) where i work. he's younger than me, and to him, it's all advertising, all the time. it's about the book, the thrill, the end product. i wish i were that passionate about work. or do i?
to me, work is a means to an end, a way to support a life. work is not life. work is work, or else work would be called "fun".
yet, it's not like i work in insurance. or something similarly dry. and i think even if i was over the moon about work, i still would not want to do it 50 hours a week. it's work. there's still life to be had.
and yet, i ponder the idea of getting a "real" job, in something i find more meaningful. i'd be making about 1/20th of what i do now, working more.
is that right? nope.
such is the conundrum of money vs. meaning, satisfaction vs. cash, freedom vs. happiness.
i do. yet i am strong, not weak. i can work my ass off. i am one of the most dilligent, organized, focused people i know.
is it because i expend so much energy on work that doesn't resonate within? does work hold such deep meaning for most people?
there's this CD (creative director) where i work. he's younger than me, and to him, it's all advertising, all the time. it's about the book, the thrill, the end product. i wish i were that passionate about work. or do i?
to me, work is a means to an end, a way to support a life. work is not life. work is work, or else work would be called "fun".
yet, it's not like i work in insurance. or something similarly dry. and i think even if i was over the moon about work, i still would not want to do it 50 hours a week. it's work. there's still life to be had.
and yet, i ponder the idea of getting a "real" job, in something i find more meaningful. i'd be making about 1/20th of what i do now, working more.
is that right? nope.
such is the conundrum of money vs. meaning, satisfaction vs. cash, freedom vs. happiness.
June 4, 2007
Ouchy Brain
It's Monday and I'm already exhausted and over this work week.
I'm starting week 4 of being back in an office 5 days a week. As of right now, I'm booked through the end of the month. That's some long hours between here and there.
Everytime I go back to work in an agency, I honestly think, "How can people work five days a week?" It's just not right. Year in, and year out. With only a few weeks of vacation a year. Five days a week. Two days to squeeze living in. Inevitably, one of those days becomes about errands, laundry, sleep, catching up on all the things that get put off while one works long hours for a string of days. Never mind commuting. Or the time away from the office checking emails and getting calls on the cel.
I can't do it. I watch people and wonder how they pull it off. I think it shows in people's posture and demeanor. But yet, this turning one's life over is what's completely normal and acceptable in our society. Anything else and you're not dedicated, or ambitious.
Why is that?
What is ambition anyway?
What keeps me going while feeling like a fish out of water in a cube farm? Plans. Plans for the life I plan to have when I take my little pile of money and run. I am always very conscious of trading a dollar amount for an hour of my life. That hour I will never get back, so I better get the most for it.
My current motivational plan is a backpacking trip in Yosemite. Paul, Michelle and I are going to do the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne over the fourth of July weekend. I've done it once before, much too quickly to appreciate it well, and I know how deeply relaxing the daily hiking, rivers, waterfalls, and stars will be. My soul craves it like some crave love. It is love, I suppose.
I'm starting week 4 of being back in an office 5 days a week. As of right now, I'm booked through the end of the month. That's some long hours between here and there.
Everytime I go back to work in an agency, I honestly think, "How can people work five days a week?" It's just not right. Year in, and year out. With only a few weeks of vacation a year. Five days a week. Two days to squeeze living in. Inevitably, one of those days becomes about errands, laundry, sleep, catching up on all the things that get put off while one works long hours for a string of days. Never mind commuting. Or the time away from the office checking emails and getting calls on the cel.
I can't do it. I watch people and wonder how they pull it off. I think it shows in people's posture and demeanor. But yet, this turning one's life over is what's completely normal and acceptable in our society. Anything else and you're not dedicated, or ambitious.
Why is that?
What is ambition anyway?
What keeps me going while feeling like a fish out of water in a cube farm? Plans. Plans for the life I plan to have when I take my little pile of money and run. I am always very conscious of trading a dollar amount for an hour of my life. That hour I will never get back, so I better get the most for it.
My current motivational plan is a backpacking trip in Yosemite. Paul, Michelle and I are going to do the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne over the fourth of July weekend. I've done it once before, much too quickly to appreciate it well, and I know how deeply relaxing the daily hiking, rivers, waterfalls, and stars will be. My soul craves it like some crave love. It is love, I suppose.
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