A tale of many coasts

The woman who owned the little flower shop on Euclid, in Berkeley, that I used to buy flowers from told me one bright day in September 2005 how she'd spent 6 weeks of that summer in Maine. Originally from Iran but long a resident of California, the lovely flower woman told me the only other place in the United States she could imagine living was Maine.

As I always trusted her judgment in flowers, I decided to trust it in terms of states too and in my mind, Maine became California's east coast equivalent. However, after having visited Florida a few weeks ago I've changed my mind. Though I went to Maine in the summer of 2006 and was more struck by the brisk weather (though it was still August) than the California connection I still equated the two. It wasn't until I was walking happily along a beach in Stuart, Florida earlier this month that I realized how much more Florida, rather than Maine, seemed like California, or at least southern California.

Stuart seemed like vacation land- lots of happy, smiley, tanned, beach going people relaxing by the ocean and enjoying their surroundings and the weather. (I've always wondered what it would be like to actually live by the beach year-round and have that kind of vacation feel all the time.)
The vacation vibe, the sunny and warm weather and the inviting ocean made me think more of Malibu and San Diego (both places I've only ever been on vacation) than Maine ever did.

The Maine coast, I think, matches better with Northern California or Oregon or Washington. All those areas have beaches that are isolated and rugged, that bring to mind wind swept hair and sweatshirts rather than suntans and bikinis. For me, the Maine and the Northwest coasts are the loners while Florida and Malibu are the social butterflies.

T-Minus 10 Seconds

Last night I had the good fortune of being on a beach about 115 miles south of Cape Canaveral, Florida watching the launch of the space shuttle Discovery. I've long been fascinated by space shuttles. I remember one time when I was a kid my family and I were in South Carolina and my dad offered to drive us to Florida to see the launch. But we decided against it, and good thing too because that launch got delayed. (And the one that went yesterday was supposed to go Wednesday when I was not in Florida. Lucky for me it went last night!)
The atmosphere was really fun-- there were lots of people on the beach and some smart ones had brought binoculars (I was jealous!) The launch took place at twilight -- the sky was a bright periwinkle over the ocean and a hazy peach as the sun set over land. We knew it was supposed to go at 7:43 pm (e.s.t) and so right then everyone was excitedly scanning the sky. Right on schedule it just appeared and headed up, up and over the ocean. Everyone cheered. It made a sort of arc in the sky and then we could see the rocket boosters separate from the shuttle and drop in the ocean. For a while I was able to keep my eyes on both the boosters and the shuttle simultaneously but then I switched to just watching the shuttle until it disappeared from our view. We even heard a slight reverberation as the shuttle left the earth's atmosphere and entered outer space.
Long after the shuttle was out of sight a long trail of its smoke (a bright orange colour - absorbed from the setting sun) stayed in a long vertical line in the darkening sky, reminding us that just a few short moments before it had been there, hurtling through the Florida sky...

My very own Tandor Kitchen

The other night I made chicken tikka masala for the first time ever. It wasn't as authentic as it could be since I bought the sauce (I love this brand - Patak's - as they have recipes on all their jars!) but it was delicious. And has made me want to get definitely more ambitious in the Indian cooking department. I still shy away from lots of spices as I feel I wouldn't know what to do with all of them - how to mix them correctly, how much to put in etc etc. But I do think getting better with spices is a good cooking goal to have, and one I hope to meet eventually.

I love the sense of accomplishment (only recently discovered for me) that comes with cooking an entire meal. I actually worried quite a bit throughout the day about how the meal would turn out that night and so it was fabulous when it worked out perfectly. I find that the more I cook the more I am inspired to do more. I spent a little while Friday morning curled up in bed with some cookbooks planning future menus. It's something I could not have imagined doing a year ago, but something I am very glad to do now.

Friday the 13th

So today is Friday the 13th! It seems like there have been a lot of them recently... I can count 3 previous ones in the past two years (April and July 2007 and June 2008). And there will be another one next month. I think it's better when they are more spaced out, like leap years. It'd be cool if there were only a Friday the 13th every 4 years or so...It would make it more special.

Though I am a somewhat superstitious person, I actually love Friday the 13th. I think it's because I like Fridays, and I love the number 13 because being 13, or at least the first seven months of being 13, were so much fun. So the two together is even better. Also, I believe the number 13 has an unfair rap. It has always struck me as somewhat silly when hotels or apts don't have a 13th floor. Because really they do, even if it's called the 14th floor. And so, Friday the 13th can be a day when the number 13 defends itself. And though I suppose some people worry that the day could bring black cats in one's path or a street with ladder after ladder that one has to walk under, I find them generally auspicious days. I think it's so much better to look at them as something positive too-- instead of worrying that it's another Friday the 13th, it's great to consider it a day that has the potential for wishes to come true, and other generally pleasant things to happen.

Thursday Afternoon Fix

Every Thursday afternoon since September, I've spent a few hours in the same hallway as the director, the director's assistant and the counselor of a certain academic department on campus.

In the fall, for the first hour and a half of my two hour time slot in my little office across from theirs, I was too engrossed in discussing the Puritans and Alexander Hamilton and the 3/5 clause to get to do too much listening. But I still had my half an hour after the students left to do nothing but observe... mostly with my ears. Since January, I have not had a single student come see me (hopefully that will change...but for the time being I don't mind it) giving me two hours of pure listening and wondering and smiling and thinking about the situations and dilemmas of the three main characters-- the director, A., the director's assistant, J., and the counselor, M., whose lives unfold in front of me, or really across from me (within hearing range but outside of my vision) every Thursday afternoon.

It's like a television program and they are the stars. And every week a new and assorted cast of secondary characters guest star (mostly other professors and students). I don't know too much about their lives-- just that M. seems to be the busiest both inside and outside the office; when not seeing students he is either consulting with A. or discussing students or courses on the phone, and he always seems to have after work plans (last week he was having dinner with his mom and brother, and the week before seeing a movie with his girlfriend). A. seems very kind and maternal and usually spends the afternoon typing away on her computer or planning future events. She also smiles at me, without fail, every week as she walks by and looks in my open door. J. is cheerful and talkative and insists each week on calling out to A. and then reading aloud or relaying stories from funny emails she seems to perpetually receive.

Though I can count on M., A., and J. to be there each week, it's hard because the things that were the topic of conversation the week before have long since been resolved or put away. I hate how I end up missing so much of what goes on. I only get these little glimpses into their lives; I get a super saturated version of character development; and I constantly have questions from the previous week which I know (and must accept) will forever go unanswered.

A few times I have contemplated going by on a Monday or Wednesday afternoon, just to catch an extra episode and maybe help fill in some of the gaps. But I ultimately always decide against it as I think it would ruin some of the charm. Maybe I'd see M., or A., or J. do something seemingly out of character, something I wouldn't want to see and I'd start to view them in a whole different way. Or maybe I'd start liking them even more and would want to go by the office every weekday afternoon. So I've concluded that for the time being, I'll take what I can get and be content that at least I have my Thursday afternoons.

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.