random Sunday thoughts

I have been meaning to document this for some time, so here it is:

There is a lady who lives on the sidewalk outside of Trader Joe's, as far as I can tell.  She is always there, and she always has multiple signs with angry things written on them.  One is about how she's hungry, but she will only accept organic food, or $20, because GMOs are evil, or something like that.

My favorite sign of hers looks something like this:

i am a poet
i write poems
i make words
i am like a radio
BLACK PRIDE


She is white, if that matters at all.  (And I think it does.)

It occurred to me recently that there aren't going to be any homeless people in State College, and it's going to be a little weird.  Homeless people always make me a little uncomfortable, because I want to help them, but I realize there's nothing I can really do to help them, besides volunteering at a soup kitchen or something like that.  I have gotten used to having them around, though, because there are so, so many homeless people in Berkeley.  They camp out on the sidewalks downtown and near campus, and you see the same ones over and over again.  There's also a special breed of weirdo that inhabits Berkeley, and that I've never seen anywhere but here, which is the maybe-homeless.  As in, they look kind of unkempt and disheveled, but you can't tell if they're crazy and homeless or just crazy.  Most of these people have at least a few signs, and they don't seem to care whether you notice them or not.  It's as if they see their life's work as standing on the street corner outside the games store with a big poster identifying animals' footprints, for some reason.  (That's just one guy.  My favorite of this type is probably the guy who walks around with sandwich boards on, with an arrow pointing to the left and big angry letters proclaiming "PASS ON THE LEFT!!!".)

There are many things I will miss about Berkeley, and actually, the crazy people are probably one of them.

I need to do some work today, and instead I have been wasting time on the internet and cooking.  It's been a good day, really, but now I think it's time to do some statistics while my rice cooks.  And then I'll probably go for a bike ride to enjoy this nice day.

Oh!  Speaking of nice days, Jevon and I went to the hipstery-est wedding I could ever have imagined yesterday.  It was in a backyard in San Francisco, replete with thrift store clothing, sideburns, and tongues planted firmly in cheek.  It was actually very lovely, too, in a weird way, but some of the people there made me feel a bit out of place.  Like the very fact that I would allow them to let me feel out of place probably meant that I Care Too Much About Things.

Anyway, rice is almost done.  Bye for now.

Ohhh, this town...

Everything about this video is so Berkeley.  Everything I really like and everything that drives me crazy about this town sometimes, right there.  And some nice shots of Berkeley, too!

Last night, my friend Greg and I played at an open mic night at an Irish pub in south Berkeley called The Starry Plough.  Well, Greg played the 12-string acoustic guitar, and we both sang.  It was really, really fun, and I think we'll do it again soon.  I hadn't sung in front of people in literally years.  It's such a rush, and I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I would be.  Probably because at every open mic night at the Plough, there are some people who are terrible beyond belief.  It really would be a challenge to be the worst act at the Plough, so that's a confidence booster, right there.

The Banshee of Live Oak Park (y otros cuentos)

Wow, have I got a story for you. And then I'll tell you how my summer is going.

On Sunday, I was running with the dogs, as per usual, and I decided to go through this beautiful little park in North Berkeley. It's called Live Oak Park, and it's up in the Berkeley Hills, full of very tall trees and cute little paths and a babbling brook. It's very nice, and I hardly ever run through it, because it's a bit of a trek to get up there. I guess to set this up properly, I should also mention that North Berkeley/the hills is where all the rich people live, and it's generally an extremely safe area. It's kind of like southwest Champaign, or Sandy Ridge in Mahomet or something. Very bourgie.

Anyway, I'm running through this lovely little park with the dogs, admiring the trees with the sunlight streaming through them, thinking about what a nice, crisp, clear morning it is, when I am ruthlessly snapped out of my reverie by the most god-awful bloodcurdling scream/cackle I have ever heard. To my right, directly next to me on the ground is this woman who decided it would be nice to hide amongst the brush and literally shriek at me as I passed her. Well. More precisely, I had come to this part of the path that narrowed, and I suddenly found myself stuck between a huge tree and an insane screaming woman sitting 3 or 4 feet to my right at the foot of a small hill. The thing about it was, the path was really narrow, and the dogs were right in front of me and were totally freaked out too. So they stopped to check her out, and I couldn't push them ahead or turn around and pull them behind me, because we were bottlenecked in this little piece of path between the tree and the foot of the hill.

Let me tell you, I honestly do not remember the last time I was so frightened. Running along, la la la, what a nice day, blood curdling scream. Freeze. Realize I'm cornered by a crazy person. And then, in between cackles, as I'm trying to figure out what the hell to do, she looks right at me and says, "I'M A BIG GIRL NOW! A BIIIIIIIIG GIRRRRRL NOW! AHH HA HA HAHA! THE JOKE'S ON YOU!"

Did I mention how terrifying this was? Never before in my life have I been in such proximity to someone who is quite literally a raving lunatic. The scariest part was her eyes - they were this milky, translucent color, and just burning with insanity, there is no other way I can think of to describe it. She was very clearly not on this planet, mentally. I don't know if she was schizophrenic or what, but this is the kind of person in the kind of state where... well, I could imagine something terrible happening. I honestly was somewhat expecting her to punctuate her "the joke's on you" by lunging at me or something.

And Huck. Huck is trying to give the insane woman a kiss. If there were any doubts about whether that dog loves everyone and everything, let them be assuaged.

So after a few seconds of panic that seemed like an eternity, I pushed passed the dogs and started running again. Once I got a hold of myself, that's all I could do, is take off and run run run away. I was completely shaken up for a good half hour after that... adrenaline pumping, replaying the scene in my head, being so glad that nothing bad happened. Another thing that was so terrifying about it is that it came out of nowhere. I would have been somewhat more mentally prepared for it if we hadn't been in the nicest part of Berkeley. Like, you can kind of be on guard for crazy bums when you're downtown, and you can see them coming from further away when you're more on guard and not enjoying the peace and quiet of running through a lovely little patch of trees.

Man. I don't think I'll ever run through that park again now. Quite a shame, because it's so darn pretty.

So that was my Sunday. Monday was the start of my Spanish class! Yay Spanish! It really is like a full time job... I have to remind myself that this is what I signed up for, and it is going to be so good for me. Already, my comprehension has gotten pretty decent... I can parse words really well, and I'm picking up all the little grammatical turns of phrase that let you put together real sentences. Things like "because" and "the thing that..." and "if you want to..." and all the little pieces that make the difference between "me Tarzan, you Jane" and "Hello, my name is Tarzan, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jane." Not that I'm anywhere near that suave yet. But I can understand other people when they're that suave, and that's the first step. I'm still stuck saying things like, "My name is Melinda. I am 25 years old. I have two dogs. I like my husband very much. He has a head that is shaved. How nice!" But whatever, it'll come.

Speaking of husbands and dogs, they're all doing great, by the way. Roger's still getting home pretty late, but he came home so happy and excited last night; he had had a really fantastic meeting with the CEO of his company who had only glowing things to say about him, and I know it was a real morale booster. So even though he's still working a lot, it's going really well, and he seems pretty happy most of the time (when he's not completely exhausted).

Rye pulled a bag of hamburger buns down off the counter while I was in the shower this morning, somehow managed to open the bag without damaging it at all, and was madly trying to choke down the last one when I discovered him. So basically the dogs haven't changed. Huck tries to kiss everything that moves, and Rye finds really weird stuff to chow down on when he gets bored enough.

La vida es asi, mis amigos! Time to brave these 58 degrees temps and walk those perros. Mil besos a vos y hasta pronto!

I live by the Bay.

And here is a picture to prove it:

There's the good ol' Golden Gate. Beyond it is the Pacific Ocean (can you believe it?), and the hunk of land to the left is San Francisco. On the right is Marin County, where I went to get my bike.

My friend Stephanie and I went for an impromptu walk up in Tilden Park on Wednesday night. Neither of us have class on Wednesdays, so we decided to enjoy the beautiful fall weather and take the bus up to Tilden. We sort of walked around for a while, but it took us a while to get there, and by the time we had really gotten into the park, it was kind of time to head back and catch the bus home. I guess that's what happens when you go for impromptu trips on Wednesday evenings. But I got this nice picture on the way back, anyway. The sun setting over the Bay is always gorgeous, no matter how many times I see it. It always makes me think, "I can't believe I live here now."

Actually, it's kind of like Paris in that regard. I used to take this bus from school back to my place in Paris, and we'd go by the Eiffel Tower, and the Cathedrale de Notre Dame, and I would always, always think, "I can't believe I live here." Even after 9 months. And I'm still doing it here fairly often after... 15 months.

Kind of like... I can't believe I'm 25. 25. I feel like I should be 17 or something. 25 is too big a number to apply to my age. But here I am, 25 and living in California with my husband. Life is so weird.

Anyway. Here's a picture I snapped last night while walking the dogs. The sky was really awesome.

One of these days I'm going to get a new camera (or more likely find the charger for Roger's digital SLR) because there are lots of pictures I'd like to take that don't quite come out as beautiful as I'd like them to. Maybe that's the nature of pictures... but you'll have to take my word for it that that sunset was much more breathtaking than my picture would lead you to believe. The pinks and oranges were really rich and vibrant and contrasted fantastically with the dark blue.

School goes on as normal, I suppose. I never really know what to say about school in this blog. I like it a lot; I'm having fun reading about little kids' voices and how and why they change as they grow. I have lots of grant applications to hand in in the next few weeks, so I have to figure out what exactly to say about my little kids' voices project. It's going to be really, really fun once I get it going, but I have to make sure I think it all out before I just dive in. It's easy to dive into things when you're excited about them, but I don't want to end up with a bunch of data that weren't collected correctly just because I was too anxious to get started.

I really love my advisor. He had some people over for a "lab hike" and cookout about two weeks ago, and it was so fun. It turns out he's been taking banjo lessons, and his wife was absolutely adorable and a fantastic cook, and she does adventure races on her bike. Such warm, down-to-earth folks. I got to play their piano too! And I don't remember how, but we ended up talking about the Monkees and I told them about how I got Mickey Dolenz's autograph and I used to sing Daydweem Baweebah.

One thing you don't think about too much when you're applying to grad school is the fact that this place is going to be your home. You think a lot about the academics, and how good is the program, and what kind of research do all the professors do, but you don't really consider the fact that this is going to be your social group too. I bet that makes or breaks a lot of people. I can easily imagine going someplace where the academics are exactly what you think you want, but if the people suck and you don't connect with them on a personal level, you're probably going to have a pretty miserable 5 years and not really want to do what you wanted to do anymore.

So I'm lucky. I like my people, and Berkeley's pretty all right, too. It's such a weird town, though. I was riding my bike to school the other day and I heard this bum pan-handling but giving everyone excuses at the same time. It went something like this:

"Can you spare a dime, ma'am? Only if you can afford it, only if you can afford it. Spare change? It's okay, times are rough, you keep it for yourself."

Weird.

The dogs are doing well, Roger's doing great. They put in a bid for a new office in San Francisco last week, and it's looking like they'll be moving in the next month or so. I can't wait for that! That'll shave like 30-45 minutes off his commute in each direction. And then they'll be hiring more people, so he'll have someone to do the crappy part of his job now, and he'll get to focus on the more interesting stuff that he enjoys a lot more. Hopefully (kind of probably) this will also come with a formal promotion, but I'll keep you posted.

Well, it's getting to be that part of the early afternoon where I feel like a bum for not showering and getting dressed yet, so I think that's what I'll do. Love to all, and happy fall.