Time Warp

I just read this article on the BBC about how this architect in the German city of Leipzig discovered an untouched/abandoned apartment recently. The architect described it as entering a "veritable East German time warp" as the apt belonged to a 24 year old man, apparently in some sort of trouble with authorities. (See this link, hopefully it will still work: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/7857256.stm) I wonder if he's still alive and just never returned to his apt? Maybe he managed to somehow make it to West Germany or somewhere else? Or maybe not... I hope they can somehow track him down if he's still alive, and that he can go back there and get his long lost things. And if he is still alive, I wonder what he has done with his life. What is his job? Is he married? Does he have children? Do his friends and family know the truth about his past? And I wonder what he was doing that had the authorities after him in the first place? It's such a mystery!!
Two things struck me the most from what they found in the apt: a bag with some shriveled up bread rolls (I wonder if he was planning on eating those bread rolls with dinner but that he literally had to make a run for it and couldn't bring them along) and the calendar on the wall set to August 1988. If I were the architect who found this apt, I'd immediately try to think back to who I was and what I was doing in August 1988. That calendar seems like tangible proof that the inhabitant of that apt's world irrevocably changed in August 1988. I think we all have days or months we can point to in which our own lives changed, but for most of us those days and months now only live in our memories. Imagine if we all had a long lost apt somewhere, complete with a calendar on the wall to say, "Yes, that's what my world was like before everything changed, that's exactly how it was."

Heaven or Las Vegas

I dreamt about casinos every night I was in Vegas. Does that happen to other people I wonder? Do hardcore gamblers dream about three lucky 7s flashing across the slots? While my dreams often involve complicated plots or scenarios with familiar people doing unexpected things, I have never dreamed so consistently about one place for three nights in a row. Each night once I closed my eyes I couldn't escape the casino's bright flashing lights and the incessant ringing of the slots. Sometimes I stood still, just observing everything around me. And in other dreams I was actively moving-- even at one point running-- through them, like on a treasure hunt, eagerly awaiting what lay around each corner.

Though I hadn't heard the Cocteau Twins song 'Heaven or Las Vegas' in about five years I kept thinking about its title while there. It seems like Las Vegas could be a type of heaven for some people-- people who can't sleep, or who are lonely, or who like to see different places without leaving the confines of one street, or who like the juxtaposition of crowds and a city with the quiet and solitude of the desert. On Sunday night we were driving down the strip and amidst a break in all the hotels I saw some mountains, outlined purple against the fading and quickly darkening sky. C. reminded us that Las Vegas really is a sort of mirage, this grandiose human-made place amidst the enchantment of the desert. It's easy to forget the desert is out there when there are so many fountain shows and fire shows and pirate shows and mock Eiffel Towers and Statues of Liberty and blackjack tables with white haired dealers who were working in Vegas when Elvis used to perform there to distract you. But the desert gives something unique to Vegas-- not just the air and the dryness but the feeling that you could blink and like a mirage, it could all disappear.

January Birthdays

I love the month of January-- a new year has begun (ripe with hope and (the) possibility (of adventure)), it starts with the letter J, winter hasn't gone on long enough for everyone to wish it were over, and I know so many people with birthdays, myself included!

I have a certain amount of affection for winter in general, and January in particular, because it is the month of my birthday. Somehow the cold and snow of December and the first eighteen days of January never seem so bad when I have my birthday to look forward to. But I was thinking today how one year I would really love to celebrate somewhere in the southern hemisphere-- maybe Sydney? I could have a get together at the beach and go swimming and wear a pretty summer dress and it wouldn't get dark until after 9 pm. And I could have an ice cream cake that would actually run the risk of melting! Or I could go to Buenos Aires where it would also stay light late and I could eat a cake with dulce de leche icing.

I picked up an early birthday ice cream cake for myself yesterday at Baskin Robbins (world class chocolate) and it made me think about my birthday three years ago when I also got an ice cream cake- except it was from Ben & Jerry's and I was in Berkeley. I was excited to turn 22, I remember. Partly because that was the age B. was when I first met him and so 22 had always had this allure to it for me. But also because 21 had been somewhat of a let down so I was ready for something new.

But 24 wasn't like that. 24 was great! Last year on my birthday, J. thought I was turning 25, not 24, and I realized today how sad that would have been if I had turned 25 last year and therefore missed out on being 24. So much happened to me as a 24 year old, maybe more than any other age, and I consequently feel really attached to it. But, with the exceptions of 21 going into 22 and 22 going into 23, I usually feel super attached to my age and part of me, while excited for my birthday, is sad about leaving it behind forever.