26 November 2007

lullaby.

Yes, I said no posts. Gone til December, I said, or something along those lines. But I'm procrastinating, so I'm extra contemplative.

Good, relaxing Thanksgiving. I chose to celebrate the day by myself, talking briefly with fam by phone, eating lots of food I made, watching a Hitchcock marathon on AMC. It was awesome and restful and fantastic. Just the sort of day I'd wanted, to unwind. As we've neared the end of the semester and the training, I find myself more harried, stressed and a bit snappier/bitchier. I'm back to school tomorrow, but for the weekend I pretended it didn't exist, that there were no major decisions to make, no job search to perform, no moving preparations to be made, no bills to be paid. Like make-believe, like I was up to speed on everything, that life was unfolding exactly as it should be, which I suppose, despite what my neurotic woman-mindedness would lead me to believe, it actually is.

Worked on the boat all weekend. As with any leisure activity, people tend to cut out diving this time of year, in pursuit of more time/money to spend on Christmas gifts and related, so the boat was only about half full (less work for me!). Yesterday, on the way back from the islands, we came across a pod of dolphins. It was just after my shower, but before my afternoon snooze, so I stood on the bow and watched them frolic for a while (if you're not familiar, dolphins like to ride the surge the boat creates as it moves forward in the water, and can often be found at the bow, jumping, swerving and diving). When they appeared to have all gone away, I headed below decks to the crew quarters and my bunky-wunky, located just below the waterline, also at the bow.

Flat Stanley with Dolphin, on the bow of the Spectre.

There's a sort of unwritten rule in the crew quarters. When the captain's in his bunk, we don't disturb him unless it's necessary, the equivilent of the boss's office with the door shut. No chit chat, no questions, no small talk, no shop talk. And the captain always reciprocates. When I lay down yesterday though, the captain asked a question.

There are lots of sounds on a boat, especially when your bunk is right below the wheelhouse. The creaks of the steering, the crashing of the waves on the hull, the discussions of divers in the forward lounge. There's another I've probably heard before, but never registered. Yesterday the captain asked me if I could hear the dolphins outside the boat, as they play in the water, just a few feet away from where I lay. Instead to taking out my ipod, I fell asleep to the clicks and whistles of the dolphins outside.

19 November 2007

tap.

I like this. How cool is it that he *recently learned to tap dance*???

75-year-old tap-dancer shimmies his way across Golden Gate Bridge

Michael Grbich wore some snazzy, if worn, red and white tap shoes on his trek across the Golden Gate Bridge. He just recently learned to tap dance.

Michael Grbich enjoyed his 1.7-mile dance across the Golden Gate Bridge, even bringing his own music and jump rope. The Oakland resident celebrated his 75th birthday Sunday, Nov. 18, 2007, by tap dancing across the Golden Gate Bridge and was joined by relatives and friends as he danced across the foggy span.



Near the end of Michael Grbich's dance and the south end of the bridge, family members and friends threw confetti to celebrate his feat -- or was that his feet?

17 November 2007

richter.

School and work and homework have caught up with me again, so rather than feeling guilty about not fitting writing into my schedule, I'm just going to 'fess up: I don't plan to write again until school is over. I'd really love to keep you all abreast of all that's happening, but I can't make the time right now to do it well. Check back periodically, because of course one always finds time after one has decided against being able to find it. You know how it goes.

A quick note before I go. I've lived here about 15 months now, and have yet to experience a verifiable earthquake (I once woke up in the yellow room to my bed shaking, and I'm pretty sure it was an eq, but I've never found proof, so can't say for certain, and leave it off as a phantom earthquake). Apparently, unfortunately, earthquakes are not readily felt whilst driving in a car, because an earthquake happened tonight, but it took place in the mere moments between my departure from Trader Joe's and my arrival home, and I felt nothing. (boo.)