Saturday
mekka lekka hi, mekka hiney ho
the beginning of yesterday was terrific. i had a pretty fun time at work. some laughs, some encouraging people to see the prestige, you know. also, some delicious little cookies. then, i went to the y and had a great swim, and i managed to avoid naked people in the locker room. anyone who has ever met me, even for like five minutes, could probably tell you that i am the kind of person that's made uncomfortable by naked people. where do you look? the ceiling? obvious. your feet? you might trip. their eyes? weird. i also really like swimming. it is pretty much the most low-impact kind of workout you can have, and it gives you a lot of time to think. i'm pretty nervous about getting older. i think deep down i believe i'm just going to fall apart. i set up my 401K a while ago so hopefully i'll be okay financially, i do crosswords every day to stave off alzheimer's, i go swimming because a lot of other activities can screw up your joints and lead to arthritis, and the biggest deterrent to living on sweets (i have an extremely demanding sweet tooth) is the ever-growing threat of diabetes. i've pretty much given up on trying to avoid cancer - you can get it from almost anything, and i really like going outside and eating red popsicles.
i think i might be misusing my swimming-thinking time. here is a list of the things i usually think about while swimming:
ludacris (and not just recently either. this has been pretty consistent for a while now.)
whether or not the other swimmers are looking at me underwater (i don't care)
whether or not the other swimmers are allowing bodily functions to occur underwater (i definitely care)
whether or not another swimmer will want to share my lane with me if the pool gets crowded
if yes: whether or not my strokes will get out of control and i will accidentally tag them, whether or not they will look at me underwater, whether or not they will perform bodily functions underwater and whether or not i will be able to tell
if no: why not?
getting a new swimsuit, like a real swimsuit and not my all girl summer fun bathing suit
getting new goggles, like real goggles that don't leak and aren't pink
getting a swim cap so my hair doesn't smell like chlorine all the time
whether or not there might be naked people in the sauna, steam room or whirlpool
if yes: how can i look in and then walk away and maintain my dignity
if no: then i can use one, what can i read while i'm in there (whirlpool only - no paper in the steam room, gets soggy, no paper in the sauna, catches on fire)
the lifeguard
it is usually this older jewish guy with a terrific moustache. i know he is jewish because he used to lifeguard at the jewish community center when i swam up there because the y was redoing their pool. he is a great guy, the kind of guy you wish was your grandfather. well, not my grandfather, because i'm crazy about him and wouldn't trade him for anyone. but maybe if you had a jewish friend growing up and you were really close to their family and used to go over on friday afternoons and eat challah and he was their grandfather and would tell you stories and maybe pinch your cheek and give you a dreidel on chanukah or something. he is really nice and always tells me it's nice to see me, not in a creepy way, but in a way that makes me feel like both our days are a little better because we chatted with each other. anyway, yesterday we chatted about how we used to see each other at the jcc, and that was part of why yesterday was good.
if you have ever lived or stayed in southeast portland, then you probably know that during rush hour, people who are already almost on the ross island bridge will take turns with people waiting on the on ramp. it's a really nice thing to do, because they really don't have to. it's a very portland thing to do and it always puts my faith back in humanity a little. well, yesterday i was the first one to do it. i let the person waiting go, and then in my rearview mirror i saw the person behind me do it, and then the person behind them. that felt pretty good, like something that should have gotten written up in the paper. then i saw an enormous bird fly over me when i was on the bridge and that just made me feel even better.
then jake and i went to see the illusionist. it was ok, i love ed norton and jessica biel was just fine, but the whole time i wanted it to be the prestige and it just wasn't. i kind of coerced jake into going out to do something with me instead of staying in and renting a movie or staring at the walls because every once in a while i need to do something that makes me feel like i'm not a crappy bag lady. i'm not really sure how going out in public gets rid of that feeling; maybe it's just that when i go out i feel obligated to brush my hair and not wear the falling apart sweatshirt i stole from my roommate that i wear everywhere else. anyway, it did make me feel better. but jake has a terrible habit of behaving poorly in the movie theater, especially during the most important or touching parts of a movie, and then he really did not want to discuss the movie afterwards. i guess there wasn't really that much to say, especially since all i wanted to do was talk about the prestige, and he got kind of touchy when i kept pressing him about it. then he went to the big party and i stayed home. every time we go to the big party, it's disappointing, but every time friday rolls around it's an appealing prospect again. he wanted to get hammered and go see our roommates play, and i didn't want to stand around with a bunch of people i didn't know and see a bunch of crappy bands (our roommates admitted that the other bands would be crappy) and have at most one beer because i was driving. so, my attempt to spend some quality time and not feel like a crappy bag lady was pretty much a bust. i went to bed early and the bag lady feeling is once again in full swing. but today is a new day. i got myself some cookies and maybe i'll go see the prestige again.
next on the list. does this guy look like the genie from peewee's playhouse or what?
i think i might be misusing my swimming-thinking time. here is a list of the things i usually think about while swimming:
ludacris (and not just recently either. this has been pretty consistent for a while now.)
whether or not the other swimmers are looking at me underwater (i don't care)
whether or not the other swimmers are allowing bodily functions to occur underwater (i definitely care)
whether or not another swimmer will want to share my lane with me if the pool gets crowded
if yes: whether or not my strokes will get out of control and i will accidentally tag them, whether or not they will look at me underwater, whether or not they will perform bodily functions underwater and whether or not i will be able to tell
if no: why not?
getting a new swimsuit, like a real swimsuit and not my all girl summer fun bathing suit
getting new goggles, like real goggles that don't leak and aren't pink
getting a swim cap so my hair doesn't smell like chlorine all the time
whether or not there might be naked people in the sauna, steam room or whirlpool
if yes: how can i look in and then walk away and maintain my dignity
if no: then i can use one, what can i read while i'm in there (whirlpool only - no paper in the steam room, gets soggy, no paper in the sauna, catches on fire)
the lifeguard
it is usually this older jewish guy with a terrific moustache. i know he is jewish because he used to lifeguard at the jewish community center when i swam up there because the y was redoing their pool. he is a great guy, the kind of guy you wish was your grandfather. well, not my grandfather, because i'm crazy about him and wouldn't trade him for anyone. but maybe if you had a jewish friend growing up and you were really close to their family and used to go over on friday afternoons and eat challah and he was their grandfather and would tell you stories and maybe pinch your cheek and give you a dreidel on chanukah or something. he is really nice and always tells me it's nice to see me, not in a creepy way, but in a way that makes me feel like both our days are a little better because we chatted with each other. anyway, yesterday we chatted about how we used to see each other at the jcc, and that was part of why yesterday was good.
if you have ever lived or stayed in southeast portland, then you probably know that during rush hour, people who are already almost on the ross island bridge will take turns with people waiting on the on ramp. it's a really nice thing to do, because they really don't have to. it's a very portland thing to do and it always puts my faith back in humanity a little. well, yesterday i was the first one to do it. i let the person waiting go, and then in my rearview mirror i saw the person behind me do it, and then the person behind them. that felt pretty good, like something that should have gotten written up in the paper. then i saw an enormous bird fly over me when i was on the bridge and that just made me feel even better.
then jake and i went to see the illusionist. it was ok, i love ed norton and jessica biel was just fine, but the whole time i wanted it to be the prestige and it just wasn't. i kind of coerced jake into going out to do something with me instead of staying in and renting a movie or staring at the walls because every once in a while i need to do something that makes me feel like i'm not a crappy bag lady. i'm not really sure how going out in public gets rid of that feeling; maybe it's just that when i go out i feel obligated to brush my hair and not wear the falling apart sweatshirt i stole from my roommate that i wear everywhere else. anyway, it did make me feel better. but jake has a terrible habit of behaving poorly in the movie theater, especially during the most important or touching parts of a movie, and then he really did not want to discuss the movie afterwards. i guess there wasn't really that much to say, especially since all i wanted to do was talk about the prestige, and he got kind of touchy when i kept pressing him about it. then he went to the big party and i stayed home. every time we go to the big party, it's disappointing, but every time friday rolls around it's an appealing prospect again. he wanted to get hammered and go see our roommates play, and i didn't want to stand around with a bunch of people i didn't know and see a bunch of crappy bands (our roommates admitted that the other bands would be crappy) and have at most one beer because i was driving. so, my attempt to spend some quality time and not feel like a crappy bag lady was pretty much a bust. i went to bed early and the bag lady feeling is once again in full swing. but today is a new day. i got myself some cookies and maybe i'll go see the prestige again.
next on the list. does this guy look like the genie from peewee's playhouse or what?
Thursday
jake is in the paper. again.
this time, it's something he wrote.
i edit all of his pitches. that is something that i do. as for my own time, i think it's pretty obvious how i've been spending it.
this time, it's something he wrote.
i edit all of his pitches. that is something that i do. as for my own time, i think it's pretty obvious how i've been spending it.
Wednesday
Nikola Tesla, Master of Lightning: a report (part II)
After his flash of inspiration in Budapest, Tesla worked for various European power companies to improve their direct current (DC) systems. In his free time, he attempted to interest investors in his alternating current (AC) motor, to no avail. Tesla decided that to meet with any kind of success, he would have to travel to America to meet his hero and fellow inventor, Thomas Edison, who had helped introduce electricity to New York in the 1870's.
Edison's New York ran on DC power, carried through hastily erected power lines. Although the streets became so perilous that Brooklyn's baseball team called themselves the Dodgers after becoming accustomed to avoiding electrocution in the street, demand for electricity could barely be met. Edison's time and ideas were in high demand and he was fast becoming a mogul.
Tesla came to New York at the age of 28 with four cents, a drawing of an idea for a flying machine, some computations, and a letter from Charles Batchelor, his former employer and a business associate of Edison's to serve as an introduction. This letter read as follows:
"My Dear Edison: I know two great men and you are one of them. The other is this young man."
Upon introduction, Tesla explained his plans for an AC motor and his reasons for coming to New York. Edison, successful because of the introduction of direct current and ignorant of the advantages of alternating current, saw Tesla and his ideas as competition and declared his lack of interest immediately. He did, however, hire him to make improvements at his DC plant, and offered him $50,000 if he could complete what he requested. Tesla was upset and discouraged at having been dismissed by a man he admired, but the sum of money, the equivalent of almost $1,000,000 today, appealed to him and his empty pockets, so he agreed.
Edison's New York ran on DC power, carried through hastily erected power lines. Although the streets became so perilous that Brooklyn's baseball team called themselves the Dodgers after becoming accustomed to avoiding electrocution in the street, demand for electricity could barely be met. Edison's time and ideas were in high demand and he was fast becoming a mogul.
Tesla came to New York at the age of 28 with four cents, a drawing of an idea for a flying machine, some computations, and a letter from Charles Batchelor, his former employer and a business associate of Edison's to serve as an introduction. This letter read as follows:
"My Dear Edison: I know two great men and you are one of them. The other is this young man."
Upon introduction, Tesla explained his plans for an AC motor and his reasons for coming to New York. Edison, successful because of the introduction of direct current and ignorant of the advantages of alternating current, saw Tesla and his ideas as competition and declared his lack of interest immediately. He did, however, hire him to make improvements at his DC plant, and offered him $50,000 if he could complete what he requested. Tesla was upset and discouraged at having been dismissed by a man he admired, but the sum of money, the equivalent of almost $1,000,000 today, appealed to him and his empty pockets, so he agreed.
Tuesday
my shoulders are tired
i've realized in the last few weeks that i really hate people who are not funny. well, maybe i don't hate them, but i hate fake-laughing at their jokes because it's the polite thing to do. it just disgusts me that that's what's expected. i should produce a tiny, obviously fake chuckle, maybe move my shoulders a little to try and make it look more real (never successful), rather than just be honest and not do anything? why couldn't i just do what people are supposed to do when something else embarassing happens, like tripping, and ignore it? tripping is usually funnier than stupid jokes and i still keep my mouth closed, so don't i deserve to do the same when someone says something that is completely not funny? i mean, either way no one is really going to get the point because i've been doing the fake laugh thing for years and no one ever stops making stupid jokes.
humor is pretty important to me. all of my good friends are funny, and most of the people that i enjoy interacting with are funny. some of them more than others, sure, and some of them in ways that they're not exactly aware of, but they are all pretty funny. sometimes i consider myself a witty person, sometimes i live in paralyzing fear that i'm losing my sense of humor. i call this "losing the funny." sometimes i do think i'm losing it - an incredibly awkward conversation, a complete lack of interesting topics to blog about, sometimes just a general feeling that i'm not keeping up my end of conversations. sometimes it just takes me a little while to warm back up after some time around people who aren't that funny, and sometimes i just have to walk away and tell myself that someone has no sense of humor, or at least one that doesn't intersect with mine. but sometimes i feel like i'm relying on cheap ideas to be funny. a good sense of humor, which is not the same thing as relentless sarcasm, is a mark of intelligence, and depending on shock value or political satire might make people in the workplace laugh but workplace laughing is not the same thing as being funny. you cannot rely on that as a gauge. i wonder what the best way to sharpen your sense of humor is.
this came up under a search for "funny." a lot of pictures of pugs came up, some of wrinkly dogs next to fat babies, and of course a lot of pictures of butts. i liked this one though. not that it made me laugh out loud or anything, but he replaced the handlebars with a music stand! think about the effort that went into that! he really enjoys this!
humor is pretty important to me. all of my good friends are funny, and most of the people that i enjoy interacting with are funny. some of them more than others, sure, and some of them in ways that they're not exactly aware of, but they are all pretty funny. sometimes i consider myself a witty person, sometimes i live in paralyzing fear that i'm losing my sense of humor. i call this "losing the funny." sometimes i do think i'm losing it - an incredibly awkward conversation, a complete lack of interesting topics to blog about, sometimes just a general feeling that i'm not keeping up my end of conversations. sometimes it just takes me a little while to warm back up after some time around people who aren't that funny, and sometimes i just have to walk away and tell myself that someone has no sense of humor, or at least one that doesn't intersect with mine. but sometimes i feel like i'm relying on cheap ideas to be funny. a good sense of humor, which is not the same thing as relentless sarcasm, is a mark of intelligence, and depending on shock value or political satire might make people in the workplace laugh but workplace laughing is not the same thing as being funny. you cannot rely on that as a gauge. i wonder what the best way to sharpen your sense of humor is.
this came up under a search for "funny." a lot of pictures of pugs came up, some of wrinkly dogs next to fat babies, and of course a lot of pictures of butts. i liked this one though. not that it made me laugh out loud or anything, but he replaced the handlebars with a music stand! think about the effort that went into that! he really enjoys this!
Sunday
Nikola Tesla, Master of Lightning: a report (part 1)
Nikola Tesla was born on June 28th, 1856 in the Austrian Empire to Milutin Tesla, an Orthodox priest, and Djuka Tesla, the daughter of another Orthodox priest and informal inventress of numerous around-the-house-and-farmyard aids, such as the mechanical eggbeater. Legend has it that he was born at midnight precisely at the height of a lightning storm. His genius was obvious at an early age - he could do calculus in his head as a schoolchild, and at one point, after seeing an engraving of Niagara Falls, he imagined an enormous wheel capturing the natural energy of the waterfall. Thirty years later, he accomplished this vision. He was always interested in physics and complex mathematics; his photographic memory made him an ideal student, and he began to dream of being an engineer. However, he felt enormous pressure from his father to enter the church. When he contracted cholera at the age of seventeen and was thought to be on his deathbed, he extracted a promise from his father; if he recovered, he would attend the Austrian Polytechnic School at Graz to study engineering. Obviously, he did both.
Nikola Tesla's obsession with alternating current, a safer and more efficient energy source than Edison's candidate, direct current, began when a professor challenged him to find a better way to power a Gramme dynamo, a machine that can be used as both a motor and a generator when direct current is applied. Tesla thought about it for years, until the answer came to him while walking in a park in Budapest and considering the following Faust passage:
The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;
It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;
Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil
Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!
As he spoke these words, a fully-formed image of the induction motor, an invention that would change the world when Tesla presented it to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers six years later, appeared in his mind. This was how Tesla saw his inventions; they appeared to him, complete, in flashes of inspiration, and he built what he had seen and then presented them to the world, fully functional.
Nikola Tesla's obsession with alternating current, a safer and more efficient energy source than Edison's candidate, direct current, began when a professor challenged him to find a better way to power a Gramme dynamo, a machine that can be used as both a motor and a generator when direct current is applied. Tesla thought about it for years, until the answer came to him while walking in a park in Budapest and considering the following Faust passage:
The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;
It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;
Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil
Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!
As he spoke these words, a fully-formed image of the induction motor, an invention that would change the world when Tesla presented it to the American Institute of Electrical Engineers six years later, appeared in his mind. This was how Tesla saw his inventions; they appeared to him, complete, in flashes of inspiration, and he built what he had seen and then presented them to the world, fully functional.
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