August 27, 2002
feeling a little uninspired now... as the days grow shorter, the shadows longer, and we settle into fall. Where is my spark, where is my inspiration? Can life really be so meaningless?

But perhaps I am not being fair. Life is simply what it is: life. Cellular respiration, really, genetic code replicating themselves through an automated pathway. Yet evolution is just that as well, evolving into what? Into something new. Evolution is not a replicating patter but rathe an ever fractionating path towards something, some form. The major body plans have been set since the early Cambrian, and now the forms are just being refined. Which is wierd concept considering the dynamic nature of ecology and the natural history of the earth. We tend to think of climax communtines (o.k,so really it's just us ecology types that think this way) but actually the North American continent 2,000 was incredibly different than before. I know its true because my professor told me so. I sometimes feel civilization is the same way. Yes, civilizaions come and go, but overall it seems like we are headed in some direction, evolving and ever refining towards some penultimate form. So can't life be like that too?

My apologies to those for whom this makes no sense what so ever.

August 25, 2002
The truth shall set you free, right? So why am I so afraid?

Is it possible to live a life devoted to one's ideals, no matter how that ostracizes you from the rest of society? Or are we forced, by necessity to compromise our ideals, to ammeliorate our beliefs and philosophies so that we can live a harmonious life without greatly disturbing the life of others?

I purchased a pack of tarot cards a few weeks ago. The card that strikes the the most is Strength. Courage, strenght, fortitude. In some sense, my middle name means the same thing, in Japanese. "Straight beauty," or "honest beauty". Perhaps that is lesson I am to learn in this life time?

August 23, 2002
Witch doctor: a legitimate career choice?

I was speaking with a co worker the other day about what I wanted to do when I left my job. I told him I didn't know. He said, "You should be a witch doctor." It started me thinking. Really? Can I do that?

Or maybe I should just be a truck driver because I like driving so damn much.

August 21, 2002
You know, they really should have papers for the academic world written in HTML. Think of the elegance. Instead of having to interrupt the flow of your paper, instead of the lines and lines of references (come on, who really wants to sorth through those?!) imagine that we could simply insert a hyperlink that would take you directly to the article itself, linked to a specific line or phrase in your paper that is author's idea. Wouldn't that be elegant? 'Cause in science papers, you have to reference every damn thing. It's a real pain.

On to (arguably) more imporant stuff. I fear that I have reached a rut in lipstick. Purchasing lipstick is kind of an exciting thing for a gal such as my self (recently converted from a die hard, au naturale tom boy scarcely a year ago.) But now it seems that all lipstick falls into two categories: have it, or don't want it. What's a girl to do? Sometimes I feel I should be adventurous, branch out and purchase a shade taht I would never really consider wearing. Inevitably, It becomes too daring for me, and it becomes yet another colour that sits on my shelf. Well, sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I have a hot date tonight. Cheers!

August 20, 2002
Has it really been almost a week since my last post!? I hae been preoccupied lately with both the mundane and more joyful things in life.

Watching the movie Blue Crush (which I highly recommend to those who do not have high expectations) has made me think about the ocean and what it means to us, and to me. It is often regarded as the last frontier of exploration on earth, with depths that humble us. It represents the possibility for life that is incredibly foreign to us, that is, at least for now, unknowable. Travelling down into the depths is always an uncomfortable and cumbersome experience for us, for our bodies are simply not made to exist in that environment. Given those elements, it is shocking and disheartening when we consider how we have already altered, affected, polluted the marine enviroment to the extent that we have. Beaches covered in garbage, shores unswimmable because of the bacterial content, marine mammals infected with strains of antibiotic resistant bacteria (sorry, no time for links, as I am writing this in the spare ten minutes I have before I have to leave for work! Maybe I'll stick some in later). How can we have screwed up so drastically, that we have carelessly managed to pollute this vast expanse of water that represents the majority of the earth's surface area?

Back to the movie. Blue Crush is able to capture the awe that many people hold for the ocean. The surf, tumbling, rolling, crashing onto the shore. The surfers, though they play, are ultimately at the mercy of the ocean, can be crushed, swept out to sea, drowned in a moment of carelessless. The ocean is at once enticing, playful, and dangerous, compelling. I never forget these elements when I walk along the beach. And I will never forget the time I went swimming in the Sea of Cortez. There were dolphins swimming around me, and as I watched, they dove into the depths and swam away. I foolishly attempted to follow them, hoping that they would see me as a kindred spirit, not some gangly invader. I took a deep breath at the surface, and then dove. It was the first time that I had actually looked down in the sea, and the incredible blue, the expanse of nothingness as the light dissolved into darkness nearly stopped my heart. How easy it would be, how tempting to swim down into those depths and be enveloped by blueness.

August 15, 2002
Driving Jane and Justin to the airport this morning, I reflected on the number of cars on the freeway, and realized the only car that has ever really turned me on is the 1970 Ford Mustang Mach 1. For those of you who know me, this may seem as a rather odd choice. Nevertheless, I find that the only problem is, do I want to red one or the yellow one? Oh, yeah, and how do I outfit it with a gas/ electric hybrid engine?

August 13, 2002
"I want more life, fucker!"

Today I was lost, directionless, burning precious carbon fuels and releasing toxic chemicals into the atmosphere for such a frivilous purpose. What was I hoping to find at the end of the road? My self? My purpose in life? And yet, I think I found at least a shadow of what I was searching for.

Can one believe in coincidences? Or does each event occur in perfect synchrony, but that we must be part of that harmony to see it and take the opportunity. Tonight I felt something similar to that. As I was driving down that freeway a little too fast, the wheels of synchronicity seemed to fall into place with a palpable click, and for a fleeting moment I experienced a glimpse of comprehension, of understanding.

And on the way home, I witnessed the serendipitous blaze of a shooting star.

My car was was due for it's first service today. An oil change and tire rotation, at 10,000 miles. Sure enough, right at 10,000 mi, the maintenance required light goes on. I took it to some speed oil changing station at 10080 miles, figuring that surely the less than 1% over the scheduled mileage will not void the warranty. Anyway, when that was done, the light still remained on. Ah yes, the tire rotation that is supposed to happen. Come on, who really rotates their tires? How can the car be so smart that it can sense that tires haven't been rotated? If I don't rotate the tires, does that mean that the light will stay on forever...? It seems to me that if I want to, I should be able to blatantly ignore the manufacturer's recomended maintenance schedule without having the car guilt trip me with some damn light.

August 9, 2002
A piece of a conversation overheard:

"I'm gonna get you in trouble. I'm gonna call the cops!"

"Go ahead- I got my bail money!"

August 8, 2002
Interesting developments in Africa and the fate of some 20,000 tonnes of corn. Whether the refusual is based on political, economic, or public health issues is unclear, but the Zimbabwe government has refused the shipment citing concerns that the GM corn many not be safe for human consumption.

And perhaps I have been influenced by my friendZack because the first thing that comes to mind is that this is some sort of Monsanto conspiracy. Are they in fact testing the safety of the GM corn in Africa?

This in light of the fact that the U.S. government has offered a loan to Zambia on the condition that they use it purchase GMO products. Getting them hooked, if you will, on GM agriculture.

This sentence sums up my feelings on genetic engineering: Hell, we can't even predict or control the damage done by one one invasive species- how can we possibly hope to predict the interaction of an invasive gene?

Therefore, I find it somewhat ironic that the whole industry of genetic engineering has finally brought attention to the inherent genetic value of biodiversity. But for what purpose?

I suppose we can counteract the ever increasing rate of extinction with the origination of new, fabricated species. What a frightful thought.

August 7, 2002
Why this sudden epidemic of bad priests? So dire have things become, that the Church saw fit to publish a series of guidelines.

In light of all this bad publicity, I think it appropriate to take a moment to recall all the good things that priests and monks have brought to us over the years:

This is only a brief introduction to the profound ways in which monks have changed our lives. Let us not forget these things especially in dark times.

August 6, 2002

How many Acme office personnel does it take to fix a chair?
Three, apparently.

The chair has been broken for a while. The first symptom was that when you sat on it, it would suddenly tip forward and toss you out of the seat. Then, it became stuck in that position, so that even if you used the lever on the side to tilt it back, it would return to its original position. I'm not sure how it broke. Further investigation revealed that it was likely a factory defect.

At any rate, while cleaning out store room, I noticed that there were some cannabalized chair parts, including a seat, which I realized I would probably switch with the old seat. I pulled the chair seat out of storage and put in on the floor of the office. I tip the old broken chair on its side so that I can check out the mechanism that holds the seat bottom to the stand. It became clear that the new part would not fit, so I proceeded to see if I could repair the old chair mechanism.

Attracted like flies to vinegar, Paul, who has created trouble before, comes over to check out what I am doing.

"You have to take this bolt off. You are going to need a wrench."

"Yeah," I say, and go find the tool box. What happens next is a rather painful few moments with me proceeding to take the bolt out and Paul standing there watching me, giving directions.
P: You should use a rachet.
me: I couldn't find one.
P: You need to hold the nut so it doesn't turn.
me:Yeah, I got it.

If I were a cat, my tail would have started twitching. If there is one thing I hate hate hate (mark my words, future boyfriend, whoever you may be), it's when guys feel like they have some sort of inherent mechanical superiority. I've worked table saws, circular saws, chain saws, routers, hell, I've even built a fence with a drill as my only power tool. I've changed more tires than I care to count, have changed spark plugs, oil, etc etc. I think I know a thing or two about bolts and wrenches.

Occassionally Paul would try to commandeer the situation by attempting to take control of the tools. No such luck, I am one step ahead of him. Project Do Anything To Get Out Of Work is mine, dammit.

But it wasn't even about that, any more. Yes, I hate working, yes this created a nice diversion, yes I like mechanical things and figuring out puzzles, but fairly quickly it became a matter of principle. Because I am competitive, I hate being told what to do when I know perfectly well what to do, I hate not having the opportunity to figure things out because someone thinks that they know better, and most of all I hate when someone stands over me watching me work.

The climax of this whole adventure is when my other coworker strides into the office, coffee cup in hand. "Oh wow!" he says, and pretty soon he, too, is on his knees in front of the broken chair, offering his assistance.

See, I told you. Three people. And the chair still isn't fixed. After wasting some hour and a half, we had to abort. Project Do Anything To Get Out Of Work had failed.

August 4, 2002
Hanging out on Saturday with my wonderful friends, in a day filled with laughter, food, drink, and companionship. But I feel as if I am drifting away. They: married or happily paired, focused on relationship, nesting, starting a family; me: single, fiercely independent, lost. How is it that they gradually evolve into adulthood and I am somehow stuck in Neverland?

August 3, 2002
My dream: I'm walking along Piedmont Blvd on the east side of U.C. Berkeley. Various choral groups are on the side walk singing in some sort of festival. I sit down to listen to them. As they are singing, I hear a rumbling from the sky that gets increasingly louder and louder. I look up, and see an airplane in the sky, flying low. That's odd, I think, because the angle of the plane is all wrong, and I realize that it is not going to fly over us, but is headed for the ground. By my calculations, thought, it will miss us, though not by much. I point, and try to say something but the voices of the singers drown me out. But then I hear the voice of Nicole, a girl I knew from highschool, who says, "Oh my god, the plane is going to hit us! Run!" I look up again and the plane has taken a sudden nose dive, and now we are at ground zero. I turn and run, knowing that it's futile to run now, but hoping that any amount of distance between me and ground zero might make a difference. As I sense the pressure of the plane approaching and about to crash, I yell out, "Duck and cover!" as I dive behind a tree and crouch with my arms over my head, just like they taught us to do in an earthquake. I feel the hot ash envelope me, and know that the worst danger will be from suffocation. How can I prevent that? And then I wke up...

This is not some backlash of fear from 9/11, mind you. Since I was a child I have had dreams of airplanes falling from the sky. I used to have other, cool dreams as well, which I will try to recount at a later time. Recently my dreams have been rather boring, or I don't remember them at all. Writing them down is said to help you remember them, so that is precisely what I will be doing. I think I will set up a whole "dreams" section later. No time now, because I, my friends, am going to a luau.

August 2, 2002
I am feeling a little depressed today. Thoughts about my future have been plaguing me. When I was younger, I had such dreams for myself. I would be a marine biologist, I would be a research scientist, I would save the world, I would be important, I would be that eccentric old lady in the woods that is self sufficient. Yet somehow, life got in the way.

How did that happen? How did I lose sight of my goals?

It's not even so much that I lost sight of them. It's more that as I have tried to materialize them into specific areas of study or specific careers, somehow the dreams dissipated. I started to say, yeah, that's great, but that's not really what I want to do. And it's almost as if I have too many goals. A typical gemini, I suppose. I dive into something with all my energy, and then get bored of it. That is what happened with my current job. In the beginning I put so much effort into it, worked so hard, and then when I felt that I had mastered it, I just lost interest. The challege was gone, and now I am looking for something new. I suppose in the old days I would have been an explorer or a frontiersman.

And now I feel that I am too jaded to really pursue the dreams. Yeah, it would be alright, I tell myself, but eventually I'll just get bored again. And then I will have to move on. And I still won't have saved the world.