Bookend

I'm mostly over my crankiness from last night. You say pushover, I say why bother. It's a new year, I'm starting fresh.

Anyhoodle, in the grand tradition of end-of-the-year countdowns, lists, and summaries, I present to you my own version, which really only encompasses the last 3 months since last I wrote, in no particular order:

• My neighborhood, North Beach, was recognized by the American Planning Association as one of the top 10 neighborhoods in the country. For whatever that's worth. Guess that helps me justify the fact that I've been renting the same apartment for 10 years now. That plus the fact that my rent has not increased a dime in those 10 years (glory be to rent control). And my aversion to moving.
• The 50th anniversary passed of the launch of Sputnik I, the first artificial satellite to orbit the planet, igniting the space race and marking humanity's first major recognition of its potential to slip the surly bonds of Earth. A mere 50 years later, over 4000 launches involving 40 nations have littered the heavens with approximately 3000 functioning satellites and more than 6000 pieces of space junk circling the globe; the Voyager2 probe traveling at 10 miles per second, just passed through the termination shock but still has a decade before it will cross the heliopause leaving our solar system behind and entering interstellar space beyond; 2 robotic probes continue to defy expectation, venturing across the surface of Mars and uncovering convincing evidence of a watery past, thereby enhancing the probability that life once existed there. ...An interesting side note: alleged pieces of Sputnik that landed in Encino during re-entry are apparently on display up the street in my neighborhood, at The Beat Museum of all places.
  
• Everyone seems to be having babies, including my friends Paul & Mare Manangan (decreasing the likelihood of our Amazing Race prospects, even were casting to rediscover our brilliant audition tape), and Li'l Ben & Dawn O'Connell. Congrats y'all! I wonder if I'll ever see you again?
• I was nearly attacked by a piece of driftwood on the beach at Point Reyes on Thanksgiving day, which turned out to be a sea lion and not driftwood at all. It came as quite a surprise when one of the logs reared up and bark-roared at me as I approached, preoccupied as I was with the stunning scenery and the glare of the setting sun. I'm sure it was as freaked out as I was, but the fact that it could have squashed me or bitten off my face means it automatically wins.
• My roommate spent nearly two months traveling around Europe, visiting Bavaria, Prague, Amsterdam, and the Canary Islands to name a few, and fueling my wanderlust with a big dose of jealousy.
• One of the great innovations of the year debuted at Trader Joe's: the Candy Cane Joe Joe. Basically a generic Oreo cookie whose icing interior is laced with crushed peppermint candy cane, it heralded in the holidays much more cheaply than Starbuck's peppermint mocha, and without all the caffeine tremors.
  
• The screen writer's strike has left me with little to watch on TV now that all the episodes of my shows that were in the can have aired. Which is bad for my knitting. But good for my reading. And has rejuvenated my Netflix subscription.
  
• Before the TV went dark, my knitting reached a new high as I graduated from scarves to less useful but much cuter pumpkins, just in time for Thanksgiving.
• The biggest earthquake of my California tenure (and indeed, the largest since the '89 Loma Prieta) bucked me off the couch the evening of Oct 30th, rattling the pictures askew, and adding a few new cracks in the plaster of the creaking apartment. At a magnitude of 5.4, it was borderline alarming, but my fear was tempered by the immediate recognition that the epicenter was some distance away (near San Jose, as it turns out); there was a noticeable pause between the jolting arrival of the initial P-wave and the subsequent rattling S-waves.
  
• A few days after discovering a new favorite beach hidden away in plain site, all the public shorelines, including Alcatraz and Angel Islands, were closed for weeks after a cargo ship collided with the Bay Bridge on Nov 7th, spilling 58,000 gallons of heavy bunker fuel oil. Globs of toxic goo washed ashore, an oily sheen visibly coated the waters along my jogging route, and many seagulls I saw had greasy bathtub rings around their bellies and necks. Unseen by me, thousands of birds died with oiled feather during the peak migration period.
  
• My grandmother on my mother's side passed away at age 93, resulting in my 3rd trip to Nebraska in as many months. While sad, it was not totally unexpected and I had been able to say goodbye, of sorts, when I visited her in July. She will, of course, be missed. The funeral provided a welcome opportunity to reconnect with extended family I rarely see, which in turn opened an interesting window into my roots and what my life might have been had different paths been trod. Travel in peace, Grandma Hilda.
  

Happy New Year, everyone! May your 2008 be filled with friends, family, peace and joy.