Casual Threesome

Today I "casual carpooled" for the first time.

Instead of taking the rapid transit train, I waited in line outside the station to get picked up by a random stranger who wanted to drive two carpoolers to SF.

In the Bay Area, traffic is now so congested that a driver only qualifies for the carpool lane if she has three people in her car! Tough law.

Anyway, the whole concept of casual-carpooling sounds a little sketchy and dangerous, but I thought "what the heck" since my friend Daniel (also commuting to SF) was going to be in the same car.

A middle-aged white woman pulled up to us in an SUV and told Daniel to move the baby-seat in the back to make room for himself. We listened to npr the whole way and laughed together at some of the funny news reports.

Who knew it was National Lemon Bisque day?! (Maybe I heard that wrong)

All in all it was a good experience, except for the horrendous smell in her car. Something like a blend of poopy diapers and body funk. I almost asked her to crack open the window a couple times and then chickened out for fear of offending her. I took only shallow breaths and shoved my hand close to my nose the whole time.

Next time I'm going to ask to roll down the window. It's not worth it.

Travelblogue: Week 2 of 13

Monday: Went to work for about 7 hours.
Lost my keys when I hid them to go jogging.

Tuesday: Went to work for about 7 hours.
Had a "review" with the partner that assigned me a project. Thought it went ok.
Went to a firm happy hour after work.

Wednesday: Went to work for about 7 hours.
Don't really remember much about the day, except that I had a delicious lunch (on the company dime of course, as all my lunches have been thus far) at a Mexican restaurant. Drank agua fresca with bits of choppeed up strawberries in it. Mmmm.

Thursday: Went to work for another 7 hours (This is bad. I need to get in earlier).
After work we had a Summer Associate event: A trip to MoMA to view the Picasso in America exhibit and dinner at a french bistro. Mmmm.


The exhibit was showing how Picasso influenced American artists and thus displayed more of other artist's works and less of Picasso. It was deep. Our group had a docent and she was excellent. I don't ever want to look at art again without a docent.

Friday: Went to work for almost 8 hours today! Very proud of myself for waking up a little earlier. Had another brief "review" with the partner and it went ok again. And by ok, I don't mean great, just ok.
Had a late lunch with Tammy, friend from junior high, highschool, and college! Kicked myself for forgetting to get a picture with her.
Went to parent's house for the weekend.

Saturday: Hung out with parents. They like to be physcally active so I basically spent the entire day "working out." Did exercise videos with mom. Played ping pong with dad. Then spent the evening with their kronies playing badminton.




Sunday: Saw Jenny for the first time in over a year. So happy we're both working in the Bay Area this Summer! She, like me, is leaving behind her other half on the East Coast. Went shopping for four hours after lunch. Bought only a shirt and sunglasses. Such paltry purchases means it was not a successful shopping expidition. Felt exhausted fighting the Memorial Day weekend crowds.

Will today be the day I'm raped?

Since my apartment keys were stolen yesterday I've been living in probabilities.

What are the chances that the thief knows where I live?
What are the chances that he will follow me into my apartment?
What are the chances he's waiting for me when I enter my apartment?
What are the chances that I will be raped tonight?

Tonight I did something that I've only seen on tv and I hope to God it works.

I carefully balanced a chair on its back legs and lodged it under the front door. That way if the bastard tries to get in I can at least buy myself a few seconds to grab a knife.

I would feel a lot better if I could watch the security surveillance tape and see what the actual bastard looks like. But bureaucratic red tape and working all day seems to prevent that from happening indefinitely.

Moving to a new city is hard.

No one cares about you enough to stay with you during your times of need.

Travelblogue: Week 1 of 13

Monday, May 14 was a day I had nervously dreaded since January. That day I hauled some suitcases through Boston airport to board a plane and start my new Summer job in San Francisco.



Upon arriving, I visited with some of my brother's friends: Tim (medium-size guy) and Dean (bigger guy). We visited their joint-venture game store: Eudemonia



Had some dessert. Kiwi sorbet for me.



Thursday I arrived at my gorgeous and spacious office with typical floor-to-ceiling vanity windows.



With a view like this it's goodbye eyestrain! (Can you see the Golden Gate Bridge in the back? If not, you can click on the picture to enlarge it.)



Everyday so far I've had gourmet 2-hour lunches and dinner events to attend. This event was a fundraising event for the Asian Legal Aid Bureau.* A room full of Asian lawyers and politicians. Gavin Newsome was there, for whatever that's worth.




Am I nervous about impressing the firm? Sure.
Do I miss Michael a lot? Definitely.
Am I in strange and uncomfortable situations all the time? Yup.

But on a brighter note, all this discomfort has driven me into the arms of Roald Dahl's short stories for comfort. And that's not too bad of a place to be.

Why blog

To say hello,
to create,
to express,
regardless of whether it is done well or poorly.

To know that this was the first time someone saw this.
Before you wrote it, it didn't exist.

Broken Promise, Broken Dreamz

The Season Finale of Survivor: Fiji Islands aired this past Sunday.

I was particularly haunted by it because one participant, Dreamz (picture left), did something incredibly deplorable: he promised to give immunity to Yao-Man (picture right) in exchange for a truck that Yao had won. But when it came time to deliver the immunity necklace to Yao, Dreamz renigged.



Why did Dreamz break his word? He claims it's because he was just "playing the game." But I think greed overcame him. Dreamz grew up extremely impoverished and was homeless for a large extent of his life. When he realized that renigging on the deal would win him a seat in the final 3 (amongst whom the jury would choose to award the 1 mill to) he could not resist the urge to betray Yao.

I think Dreamz made a bad choice. He could not hope to get the jury's votes after such a treacherous move. Now he not only looks like a malicious liar on national tv, but he did it for nothing, utterly in vain.

But this whole treachery brings up an even more interesting issue:

When you play a game, how far is too far? On one hand, a game is removed from reality so presumably the player should be removed from "real" moral culpability for his backstabbings. But on the other hand, there is an intuitive sense of morality that operates even in the midst of a game. Thus we talk about being sportsman-like and deplore cheaters.

People who think that "it's just a game" and thus their character is insulated from impugnity should remember this line of reasoning:

If you are willing to cheat me when it's just a game and the stakes are low, I can only imagine what you are willing to do when it's "for real" and the stakes are high.

A cheater in games is a cheater in life.

Do you agree?
(Caveat: The only exception is when the explicit premise of the game is to tell lies. E.g., Mafia, B.S.)

Blogging is so 2004

A lot of my blog sidelinks have bit the dust and I decided it was time to take them off.

RIP:
Semi-Serious Business
Super Ego
One Brassy Broad
An (Old) Grumpy Soul
Las Fashionistas
I Suck on Straws
And my own subsidiary blog: Law and Disorder

A moment of silence.

Of the remaining ones, most are only half alive (posting maybe 3-4 times a year!) So I've arranged my links from most frequently updated to least frequent.

Blogging is a tough business. The dropout rate has got to be pretty comparable to small businesses failing: only 39% are profitable.

Artsy Fartsy

It was imperative for participants to abstain from eating beans 24 hours prior to the all-nude photoshoot, not a small feat for 18,000 Mexico City dwellers.

I did it for the fam, I stayed for the fun.

Want to help science?
Want to help my brother?
Want to procrastinate?
Want a study break?
Want to be an all around nice guy?

Take some more linguistics quizzes here.


A message from the man behind the quiz, my brother:

Hello everyone,
Thanks to your generosity, I have some pretty compelling data -- but it was more intriguing than conclusive. In order to figure out exactly what's going on, I have had to devise 3 new surveys. Please,if you have the time, go take them, at lingsoup.com; This will certainly be the last time I ask for your participation in this project -- the semester is over next week. Thanks again, everyone.
~ Will

Tension is to be loved

Tension is to be loved,
when it is like a passing note,
to a beautiful, beautiful
chord.*

Tension is to be loved,
when it is like a thickening plot,
to a gut-wrenching, coming-of-age
redemption.

Tension is to be loved,
when it is like the dead of Winter,
bursting forth into the cacophony of
Spring.

Tension is to be loved,
when it is the price of usefulness**
that draws us out of self and towards
service.

*Sixpence None the Richer
**Tim Keller

At long long last

April showers...

Rubber ducky cheers my windowsill during a long soggy April.

...bring May flowers!

Finally the sun has come out today! This is the first time I've worn shorts in over 8 months! Hey, it's a big deal for a California girl.


I've always wanted this kind of front yard, abounding in flowers, instead of the traditional boring lawns I grew up with in the suburbs.