Damn. Almost put a ding in my board today. I have got to learn to be more careful!
Two sessions today... the waves weren't that great... and I am super tired.
Odd thing happened though... I was at the Incinerator Rock parking lot this afternoon, standing at the trunk of my Aerostar, staring at my beautiful fin sticking out of the board bag, about to change into my wetsuit, when I heard someone yell my name out of a silver pick up truck. People yell my name out of silver pick up trucks all the time... but I tend to know those license plates... not this one though... and I'd never seen that canopy before... it turned out to be an ex-coworker... who, by the time I left intel, was a hearings officer at PREC. She later took a one year leave of absence to work for the PNP program... and is now at the stage when she must decide whether to go back to the feds for a guaranteed paycheque every other week for the rest of her (it would undoubtedly become again) miserable life.
Been there.
And now I surf on a beautiful G&S 11' Noserider... and I play a surf-stoked receptionist who can dance on the ruins of a crumbling world... the most critical issue on my mind is not how to make the world a better place... but rather how I can get a vinyl cut-out sticker custom made for my new board.
My arms are jello. I must sleep.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Sneak Preview of 11ft of Beauty and Joy
Thursday, June 4, 2009
This day dies with aloo gobhi... mostly gobhi.
6:15 Alarm goes off... hit snooze... again... and again... and again...
6:30 Get out of bed, prepare breakfast for a full house: bake awesome scones (sundried tomatoes, rosemary, and white cheddar (yes, I insist on the oxford comma))... wash and cut 6 types of fruits... brew coffee... &c &c
7:25 Shower
7:40 Go to work. Answer phone-- play receptionist all day.
13:00 Go to co-op grocery. Buy and consume strawberry flavoured kefir for lunch while reading Dalai Lama's Becoming Enlightened. Experience a small moment of panic as I realized that I seriously considered vegetarianism for an instant. (Don't blame ULTE2, he's actually recently become omnivorous again.)
16:35 Go home. Put a few bars of warm surf wax in the fridge.
16:40 Clean two rooms and three bathrooms... wash and fold a few loads of laundry.
18:50 Make iced tea with lemon. Eat two oranges and half a slice of previously baked frozen pizza that has (apparently) been in the fridge too long. Realize that I really want some aloo gobhi, but won't have time before the 2nd sunset session with the newly formed DoT surf team to cook. Get ready to go for a surf.
19:05 Throw wetsuit and mitts in Aerostar. Drive to co-op groceries and buy cauliflower and cilantro.
19:30 Arrive at Long Beach. Get in wetsuit. Realized that I had forgotten the refrigerated wax at home. Smear warm melty wax on board.
19:45 Join the surf team in the water. Spent about half an hour wondering what the hell I was doing. Miss a whole lot of waves... catch some... get some time on the green (I can almost be blasé about this... but not quite... time on the green is still a big deal for me...) Enjoy the surf, the sun, the company. Spot four sea lions. Realize that I'm surrounded by sea lions. Small moment of panic.
21:15 Get out of the water. Drive back to town.
21:30 Shower... realized that total food consumption for the day was a glass of orange juice, kefir, two oranges, ice tea, half a slice of bad bad bad pizza, and a limonata.
22:05 Decide that it's never too late for aloo gobhi. Cannot find hing. Find hing. Make aloo gobhi. While aloo gobhi is cooking, clean dishes and kitchen, and eat some left over raw gobhi. Overcook aloo gobhi because dishes took longer than expected.
23:30 Eat aloo gobhi in front of computer-- overcooked, slightly mushy... but otherwise good. See left over raw gobhi. Due to recent eating habits, cannot resist eating leftover raw gobhi. Eat all leftover raw gobhi down to the stump.
00:25 Sitting in front of computer looking at bowl of left over aloo gobhi and raw gobhi stump. Decide that it's time for bed. Realise that I managed to squeeze a lot out of today. If I were ever asked what I did on the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, I will say that I surfed and ate cauliflower..
6:30 Get out of bed, prepare breakfast for a full house: bake awesome scones (sundried tomatoes, rosemary, and white cheddar (yes, I insist on the oxford comma))... wash and cut 6 types of fruits... brew coffee... &c &c
7:25 Shower
7:40 Go to work. Answer phone-- play receptionist all day.
13:00 Go to co-op grocery. Buy and consume strawberry flavoured kefir for lunch while reading Dalai Lama's Becoming Enlightened. Experience a small moment of panic as I realized that I seriously considered vegetarianism for an instant. (Don't blame ULTE2, he's actually recently become omnivorous again.)
16:35 Go home. Put a few bars of warm surf wax in the fridge.
16:40 Clean two rooms and three bathrooms... wash and fold a few loads of laundry.
18:50 Make iced tea with lemon. Eat two oranges and half a slice of previously baked frozen pizza that has (apparently) been in the fridge too long. Realize that I really want some aloo gobhi, but won't have time before the 2nd sunset session with the newly formed DoT surf team to cook. Get ready to go for a surf.
19:05 Throw wetsuit and mitts in Aerostar. Drive to co-op groceries and buy cauliflower and cilantro.
19:30 Arrive at Long Beach. Get in wetsuit. Realized that I had forgotten the refrigerated wax at home. Smear warm melty wax on board.
19:45 Join the surf team in the water. Spent about half an hour wondering what the hell I was doing. Miss a whole lot of waves... catch some... get some time on the green (I can almost be blasé about this... but not quite... time on the green is still a big deal for me...) Enjoy the surf, the sun, the company. Spot four sea lions. Realize that I'm surrounded by sea lions. Small moment of panic.
21:15 Get out of the water. Drive back to town.
21:30 Shower... realized that total food consumption for the day was a glass of orange juice, kefir, two oranges, ice tea, half a slice of bad bad bad pizza, and a limonata.
22:05 Decide that it's never too late for aloo gobhi. Cannot find hing. Find hing. Make aloo gobhi. While aloo gobhi is cooking, clean dishes and kitchen, and eat some left over raw gobhi. Overcook aloo gobhi because dishes took longer than expected.
23:30 Eat aloo gobhi in front of computer-- overcooked, slightly mushy... but otherwise good. See left over raw gobhi. Due to recent eating habits, cannot resist eating leftover raw gobhi. Eat all leftover raw gobhi down to the stump.
00:25 Sitting in front of computer looking at bowl of left over aloo gobhi and raw gobhi stump. Decide that it's time for bed. Realise that I managed to squeeze a lot out of today. If I were ever asked what I did on the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, I will say that I surfed and ate cauliflower..
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Democracy
It was *the* word in 1989. I was living in Hong Kong and was among those who poured into the streets to march in protest. I was entirely too young to appreciate the significance of the march... and in fact, even today, I could not pinpoint exactly what we were protesting.
For a brief moment in history, people cared profoundly. And even if I were to try, I could not fail to remember 1989 on every June 4th. Twenty years later, I'm sitting on my longboard in the surf as the sun sets over long beach... and I think of 1989.
I watched this today and cried:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/tankman/
For a brief moment in history, people cared profoundly. And even if I were to try, I could not fail to remember 1989 on every June 4th. Twenty years later, I'm sitting on my longboard in the surf as the sun sets over long beach... and I think of 1989.
I watched this today and cried:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/tankman/
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Zen and the Art of Surfboard Maintenance
I confess that I've never read the book... motorcycle maintenance didn't sound much like a metaphor I'd appreciate anyway. But surfboards, those, I understand.
When you buy a brand new surfboard, they're smooth and shiny and beautiful. If you have any intention of surfing on it (some buy them for display, I think), you rub a layer of surf wax on the deck for traction. Surf wax keeps you on the board, so it would be useless if it were anything other than super tacky. Being super tacky, however, the wax traps a lot of dirt. And as you layer on more wax (and more dirt) each session, the board gets quickly covered in a thick grey armour of sticky, dirty, cement-coloured wax. To a non-surfer, a well-seasoned surfboard would appear visually and tactilely unattractive.
Once the wax build-up reaches a sort of a "critical mass," it tends to fall off the board in chunky flakes. This is an indicator that it's time to strip the board and start over. Yesterday, I stripped both my boards. I laid out my boards wax-side-up on my sunny back lawn (which shall be no more in a couple of weeks) and, with the help of the warmth of the sun, scraped off a year's build up of wax to reveal two just-off-the-shelf-beautiful boards.
The boards are smooth and shiny and beautiful again. How's that for a metaphor?
When you buy a brand new surfboard, they're smooth and shiny and beautiful. If you have any intention of surfing on it (some buy them for display, I think), you rub a layer of surf wax on the deck for traction. Surf wax keeps you on the board, so it would be useless if it were anything other than super tacky. Being super tacky, however, the wax traps a lot of dirt. And as you layer on more wax (and more dirt) each session, the board gets quickly covered in a thick grey armour of sticky, dirty, cement-coloured wax. To a non-surfer, a well-seasoned surfboard would appear visually and tactilely unattractive.
Once the wax build-up reaches a sort of a "critical mass," it tends to fall off the board in chunky flakes. This is an indicator that it's time to strip the board and start over. Yesterday, I stripped both my boards. I laid out my boards wax-side-up on my sunny back lawn (which shall be no more in a couple of weeks) and, with the help of the warmth of the sun, scraped off a year's build up of wax to reveal two just-off-the-shelf-beautiful boards.
The boards are smooth and shiny and beautiful again. How's that for a metaphor?
Friday, May 22, 2009
How does an understanding of infinity inform one's experience of profound sadness?
Infinite Jest is a profoundly sad novel. It is dystopian without being the least bit futuristic. This year could well be the Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad.
It is nearing the end of May... and I, like the pencil standing on the tip of Schopenhauer's finger, keep moving.
It is nearing the end of May... and I, like the pencil standing on the tip of Schopenhauer's finger, keep moving.
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