Out Like a Lion

Speaking of rain (sorry, you can take the boy off the farm... but he'll still talk weather), all those watches and warnings were on the money. There are downed trees scattered around in surprising places, and the news is filled with the record flooding, high tides, landslides, road closures and power outages. SF got nearly 3 inches of rain, which puts us at nearly 10 for the month. And given that the entire annual average is about 20 inches, well, you can see that December has been rather soggy.

Take, for example, this shot of I-80... Here's hoping 2006 is a little lamb in comparison.

Be Forgot

While I had my hopes of early escape, it ultimately came as no surprise that on the last work day of 2005 I was stuck at the office until 6:30pm, when nearly everyone else had abandoned the place by 2. So, I missed out on my traditional New Year ticker-tape parade, walking through the Financial District in a flurry of desk-calendar pages that people throw out the windows to say farewell to the old. Which, technically consists of neither ticker tape nor a parade, so it's more like a lonely litter-filled walk. But still, it's a nice, if not particularly environmentally friendly, tradition. Which I missed. Because instead I trudged home in the damp dark. And what remained of 2005 had already turned to paper pulp on the rain-slick sidewalks.

We're all doomed

Signs that as the year comes to an end, so too might the world:

• Tropical Storm Zeta formed today in the Atlantic Ocean, becoming the 27th named storm of the hurricane season that officially ended a month ago.
• A new study has found a 30% reduction in the warm currents that carry water north in the Atlantic and help drive ocean currents worldwide. This validates computer-modeled consequences of global warming which could actually lower temperatures in Europe.
• 10 inches of snow fell yesterday in Florence Italy with temperatures of -15 degrees Fahrenheit in France.
• Someone stole the cinnamon roll that looked like Mother Theresa, known as the Nun Bun.
• No one knows where the lava is coming from that has been erupting from Mt. St. Helens for over a year now.
  
• An aquatic park dolphin and a Londoner got married.
• The National Security Agency's Internet site has been placing files on visitors' computers that can track their Web surfing activity despite strict federal rules banning most of them.
• Dick Clark is hosting yet another New Year's countdown.
• China's 3rd reported human fatality from the H5N1 avian flu pushes the known world total to 74 deaths in 141 cases. And how she contracted it is a complete mystery because she had no contact with birds.
  
• A movie about gay cowpokes is playing well in Milwaukee and Kansas City.
• We're currently under a High Wind Warning, a High Surf Advisory, a Coastal Flood Warning, and a Flash Flood Watch. Last week we even had a Severe Thunderstorm Warning due to a rotating cloud consistent with possible tornadic activity.
• George Bush's approval ratings are improving.
  
• Hippos and tortoises living together.
  

Green Day

I don't know if it was the alignment of the planets, or some collective unconscious decision, but today was the day to wear the color green. Not everyone did, of course, but a significantly higher percentage than pure chance would suggest. I automatically gravitated towards my light green shirt this morning, and at the office found my boss and five other people wearing the same shade of celadon. It was a enough to make me examine what random strangers were wearing on my walk home, and a surprising number of 'em also displayed celery green. The same was not true of purple, red, pink or orange, so it's not that I was just seeing what I wanted to see.
Isn't that a little weird? I wonder if it's the same basic phenomenon that results in a simultaneous collective pause in everyone's conversations in a crowded room about every 7 minutes (or so the myth goes). In all the noise, every so often there's bound to be a brief alignment and emergent pattern. Now I need to find out if anyone has ever researched the topic...

Things you probably shouldn't do while driving

Operate a camera at 70mph, 250ft above the Bay

Merry Christmahanusolstikwanzukkah

Since I've not surrounded myself with family or friends this particular holiday season, Christmas nearly sneaked past like any other weekend, albeit a slightly longer and quieter one. Laundry to wash, bills to pay, the dishes my roommates left behind to clean... Heck, I was even considering going out for Chinese food. But when I walked past the laundromat and saw it full of mopey middle-aged men sadly folding their t-shirts, I decided to skip that little Christmas pity party, and go for my traditional holiday hike instead. It's like I have the City and the woods beyond almost entirely to myself. And that, my friends, is rare and eerie and wonderful. May your day be equally full of peace, however you choose to spend it!

Quiet on the Western Front

There was a welcome break from the rain today, so I watched the sun slip away beyond a perfectly pleasant Christmas Eve from the middle of the Bay. It was an otherwise unremarkable day, really, so I'm not sure why I got a little weepy as the lights of the City and the bridge began to twinkle out of the gloaming. But for the sound of the gulls, I could almost hear the earth turn. It was a nice sunset.

Room with a view

From out my windows.

Told you I'd start with the liberal sprinkling...

So it's come to this

It's probably no surprise to any of you who know me that I have a serious sweet tooth and a tremendous fondness for cookies. (By the by, An Inordinate Fondness for Cheese is the title of another one of my upcoming books. Not the title that was written on the scrap of paper, mind you regular readers. That one has something to do with the "twilight wedge" because I was so smitten with the term when I first heard it used to describe the visible slice of approaching dark in a clear evening sky opposite the setted sun. But I digress...) So my love of the sweets generally manifests as a gnawing urge to snack right about this time every afternoon. Knowing this, I am usually prepared for the cravings by having my drawers stuffed full of goodies. ...My office desk drawers, you pervs.

Alas, I haven't gotten groceries in weeks so all my Milanos, Froot-Loops, dried mango, and the like are gone. Gone! I tried to ignore the intensifying pangs, but I reached the point that snackage was all I could think about. There's a snack machine in the breakroom, but no one has change for a $20, and anyway, CornNuts are one of the most breath-defyingly vile creations ever to try passing as a food substance.

In growing desperation, I searched the entire floor for free holiday spillover expecting someone to have set out the fruitcake they got from Aunt Ethel or the lopsided Christmas cookies that weren't fit for the neighbors. I checked my drawers again, to make sure nothing magically appeared or had been overlooked (again: my desk drawers. Jeesh). I searched all the unlocked cabinets in the breakroom. I tried to tide myself over with a wholly unsatisfactory tic-tac. I triple-checked my drawers (oy).

And now? I've been reduced to eating dry hot cocoa mix directly out of the packet with a spoon. I ain't proud.

Span

It's funny, I have lived in San Francisco for over 9 years now... dear god - it's been over 9 years!! Ok, that just suckerpunched me. How the hell that much time has passed escapes me. Especially given how transient I still feel here sometimes. Jebus. Nine years! Um, anyway, so I've been here all this time and definitely take certain things for granted, like the liberal attitude or the barking sea lions.

But there are other things that I never tire of or cease to wonder at. Going for an evening stroll along the water's edge in the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge is one of those things. And as a result, I have an inordinate number of photos of the Bridge at all different times of day and from all different perspectives. Same is true with the view out my apartment windows... although technically that perspective never changes. So I'll share my favorites among these, if I can figure out a way to get them in a different page together. In the meantime, I shall sprinkle them liberally on this here page. Ain't you the luckies.

Overheard

I'm going to start keeping a log of the snippets of conversation I overhear when walking past people. They're often quite hilarious. Which is what happens without any context whatsoever.

2 guys in business suits at Market and 3rd: "...so I opened the closet door and there he was, in her underwear..."

And elderly woman to an old man at New Montgomery and Post: "...it's so red and swollen, I can't help but touch it..."

Swiftly Flow the Days

I like my city. I like my camera.

Wallowing in My Own Crapulence

I am in pain this morning. Much as I love it, I cannot drink red wine anymore -- it gives me the biggest headache, and the sinus equivalent of morning Bay Bridge traffic congestion. Of course, the gin, vodka, and beer in addition to the wine probably didn't help matters. Yes friends, it's Holiday Party time again, and the company was paying for the booze. A grand time was had by all, at my shindig before-hand, at the actual function, and afterwards at the bar to which so many of us trooped. Always fun to see everyone decked out in their finery, cutting loose a little. And, unlike some past company parties, everyone, however inebriated, was on good behavior. So no tales for the watercooler Monday. Though a little more food might have been good. Speaking of which, I'm gonna go have some scrambled eggs and take a nap. I'm too old for this.

Tempting Office Truancy

I often find that I'm dissappointed by overly-hyped movies because they don't meet my heightened expectations, yet the ones that I personally anticipate for whatever reason, I generally enjoy. I think this is because I A) tend to avoid reviews and testimony because I don't want it to taint my enthusiasm, and B) probably twist my perception after the fact to justify my expectations, thereby resolving any cognitive dissonance.

Which leads me to the following two films opening tomorrow that I've been eagerly anticipating since I first heard they were in the works ages ago:

The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe - I have loved The Chronicles of Narnia ever since I discovered them in 3rd grade, even with the generous sprinkling of Christian mythology. As an adult, I've come to recognize that as a vital part of Lewis's fictional world which helps place the fantastic within a framework of familiarity. So I'm hoping the movie captures the wonder of this magical wardrobe world without beating us about the head (Aslan is Jesus!). Anyway, hooray! Finally a live-action/CGI movie of this without people in ridiculous animal suits!

In stark contrast, the other one features three of my favorite things: Wyoming, Jake Gyllenhaal, and gay cowboys. What more could you ask for? Brokeback Mountain has been billed as a love story above anything (hoping to avoid the mainstream stigma of gay cinema), and if it's anything like Annie Proulx's original short story of the same name, then prepare to have your heart wrenched, no matter who you are -- although we'll just see how it's received in the fly-over states. Also, the screenplay was co-written by Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove is still on my ten favorite books list), and directed by Ang Lee (The Ice Storm, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon), so there you go.

The only bummer is that I can't see either of these flicks until the middle of next week at the earliest. So don't tell me if they suck.

Drifting

In a universe made up of one

Take a Left at the Light at the End of the Tunnel

That's the title of my second book. Since I haven't even written my first book, one might say I'm jumping ahead of myself a little, but that's life here between my ears. Deal with it. I have.
Sadly, I've forgotten the fantastically brilliant title I came up with for my first book, though I'm hoping it's scribbled on a scrap of paper that I'll find when cleaning up my desk. Since I have no idea what my first or second books are about yet, let alone begun writing them, I'm pretty sure I have time enough to root out that paper scrap of staggering genius.
My third book, on the other hand, is almost complete... though it'll likely require a rewrite once I come up with a plot and an appropriately incredible title for it.

UMD: Umbrellas of Mass Destruction

I never used to bother with an umbrella. Certainly they were rarely necessary in Wyoming: most downpours were brief enough that you'd just hole up in your car or wait under the eaves until it had blown over and the sun re-emerged. And even in S.F. during the rainy season it's easy enough to avoid the deluges; the rest of the crap is just drizzly damp that doesn't soak to the skin or blows under the umbrella anyway.

This city, however, is populated with a bunch of pansyasses who open up their umbrellas at the slightest hint of moisture. Since most of these people are shorter than me and unaware of anyone else on the narrow sidewalk, I'm forced to arm myself with an umbrella now, too. It's strictly a defensive maneuver: If I don't shield my personal space, my ears get clipped by the pointy bits of all the other umbrellas and more than once I've nearly gotten an eye poked out. No ordinary collapsable pocket variety will do, either... the umbrella arms race has begun. My walks to and from work have thus become a frightening tactical defense exercise, a great jostling of umbrellas bouncing off each other requiring concentration and precision positioning skill for maximum head and neck protection while adjusting for sudden unpredictable wind shear or downdrafts in the side canyons of the Financial District.

And the whole while, I'm forced to hunker down with my umbrella clamped against my head - otherwise the height difference between me and the average sidewalker leaves my umbrella floating gently above the undulating umbrella sea and I still get nicked in the bean. And then the terrorists win.