My favorite photos of the year, from New Year's Eve in Brooklyn to the Digg holiday soiree in San Francisco:
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
The reunion could have been a disaster. My ridiculous decision to shave despite having forgotten shaving creme could have screwed me big time. If I had been the only guy to go the semi-casual route, I would've felt like a tool. Frenemies could have shown up with attitude, holding grudges. And while my friendship with Alli, the organizer, gave me access to the attendee list, anyone could have shown up at the last minute while I was manning the registration table.
But everything was pretty great. The open bar helped keep conversation loose, I think. Some last-minute attendees were welcome surprises. Sitting at the welcome table was more fun than awkward. Reconnecting with people I hadn't seen since high school and those I had lost touch with after a couple of years was equally cool.
Mad props to Alli for tracking down everyone and for some creative touches at the event: Attaching 10-year-old photos to balloons was genius. Playing Romy and Michelle at the welcome table was equally clever. And planning the next morning's brunch at the hotel was perfect.
Thankfully not everything was as perfect. There was just enough drama to keep things interesting - some vomiting at the afterparty, a single slightly scandalous hookup and some damage to the suite - but not enough to overshadow the focus of the event.
I still can't quite wrap my head around the idea that more than 10 years have passed since graduation. On my last night in NYC, Alli, Lauren and I stayed up 'til 3 a.m., in part because we popped in a DVD a classmate had passed along that surprisingly contained about an hour's worth of footage from our last day of high school. This guy, Paul, had taped everything, from the pledge of allegiance to my A.P. English class to lunch (where he asked people what they wanted to be doing in 10 years) to the crazy bomb scare we had that day (one of several fakies phoned in by a weirdo that nearly caused the cancellation of our ceremony) to senior choir members practicing our graduation song. It was pretty boring stuff, objectively, but utterly fascinating to us.
Now back to Facebook, with which I'm addicted all over again thanks to the reunion.
But everything was pretty great. The open bar helped keep conversation loose, I think. Some last-minute attendees were welcome surprises. Sitting at the welcome table was more fun than awkward. Reconnecting with people I hadn't seen since high school and those I had lost touch with after a couple of years was equally cool.
Mad props to Alli for tracking down everyone and for some creative touches at the event: Attaching 10-year-old photos to balloons was genius. Playing Romy and Michelle at the welcome table was equally clever. And planning the next morning's brunch at the hotel was perfect.
Thankfully not everything was as perfect. There was just enough drama to keep things interesting - some vomiting at the afterparty, a single slightly scandalous hookup and some damage to the suite - but not enough to overshadow the focus of the event.
I still can't quite wrap my head around the idea that more than 10 years have passed since graduation. On my last night in NYC, Alli, Lauren and I stayed up 'til 3 a.m., in part because we popped in a DVD a classmate had passed along that surprisingly contained about an hour's worth of footage from our last day of high school. This guy, Paul, had taped everything, from the pledge of allegiance to my A.P. English class to lunch (where he asked people what they wanted to be doing in 10 years) to the crazy bomb scare we had that day (one of several fakies phoned in by a weirdo that nearly caused the cancellation of our ceremony) to senior choir members practicing our graduation song. It was pretty boring stuff, objectively, but utterly fascinating to us.
Now back to Facebook, with which I'm addicted all over again thanks to the reunion.
Friday, November 21, 2008
How do we learn? Sometimes, for me, acquiring a new Spanish word -- like, for realsies, not just for a fleeting moment -- requires the creation of a mnemonic device and other times it requires an embarrassing situation.
I just hadn't been able to keep the word(s) for "straw" in my brain until about a month ago, when I met Jesús at a taquería in downtown Oakland. I had finally remembered bombilla, but that's really just for drinking mate (so really only of use in Argentina, Uruguay and Paraguay). J reminded me that a common word in Mexico is popote (also used: pajita). That struck me as sounding pretty indigenous, sort of like the tongue-twister (and lip-bumper, I guess) street name we came across during our vacation in Mexico City: Popocatépetl (took me probably 5 tries to get it right). So I made myself a little sentence incorporating as many puh sounds as possible: Vamos a la calle Popocatépetl para comprar popotes para Penélope.
Speaking of streets, that's a simple word -- calle -- but I used to have a hard time remembering whether it was feminine or masculine (English is a harder language to learn than Spanish, but damn it, at least we don't have gender attached to nouns). I finally connected la to calle after listening to the Julieta Venegas song "Eres para mí." The lyric that made this click in my head is "la calle que canta su canto de diario," which also is full of alliteration.
As I mentioned earlier, embarrassment works, too. Almost exactly a year ago, within a half-hour of checking into my hostal in Madrid, I knocked a glass ashtray off a table in my room, causing it to shatter on the tile floor. Lots of glass everywhere. I had to tip-toe into the private area to ask the señora de la casa if she had a broom I could use to clean up the cenicero. I had to use my nerdy electronic dictionary to look up that word, but I haven't had to look it up since then. Watching a little old Spanish granny clean up your mess (hey, I offered but they shooed me away) will make a word stick.
I just hadn't been able to keep the word(s) for "straw" in my brain until about a month ago, when I met Jesús at a taquería in downtown Oakland. I had finally remembered bombilla, but that's really just for drinking mate (so really only of use in Argentina, Uruguay and Paraguay). J reminded me that a common word in Mexico is popote (also used: pajita). That struck me as sounding pretty indigenous, sort of like the tongue-twister (and lip-bumper, I guess) street name we came across during our vacation in Mexico City: Popocatépetl (took me probably 5 tries to get it right). So I made myself a little sentence incorporating as many puh sounds as possible: Vamos a la calle Popocatépetl para comprar popotes para Penélope.
Speaking of streets, that's a simple word -- calle -- but I used to have a hard time remembering whether it was feminine or masculine (English is a harder language to learn than Spanish, but damn it, at least we don't have gender attached to nouns). I finally connected la to calle after listening to the Julieta Venegas song "Eres para mí." The lyric that made this click in my head is "la calle que canta su canto de diario," which also is full of alliteration.
As I mentioned earlier, embarrassment works, too. Almost exactly a year ago, within a half-hour of checking into my hostal in Madrid, I knocked a glass ashtray off a table in my room, causing it to shatter on the tile floor. Lots of glass everywhere. I had to tip-toe into the private area to ask the señora de la casa if she had a broom I could use to clean up the cenicero. I had to use my nerdy electronic dictionary to look up that word, but I haven't had to look it up since then. Watching a little old Spanish granny clean up your mess (hey, I offered but they shooed me away) will make a word stick.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
It's hard not to focus too much on the impending 9-week trip to el D.F., but it helps that the next month and a half will be full of travel, work schedule-shifting and moving-related tasks. First up is a trip to NYC/NJ for Thanksgiving at my aunt's new place and my freaking high school reunion. A week from tomorrow, I will be back at the hotel that hosted my senior prom, living out a movie scene by greeting people at the registration table (only for 20 minutes or so, but still). Thank God for the open bar. I plan to be completely wasted an hour into this thing. A delight!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Summer/fall of 2001: Book it to the Bay Area. Summer/fall of 2003: Back to NJ. Summer/fall of 2005: Another cross-country move. Summer/fall of 2007 seemed to break the cycle, but a year later I was planning another escape of sorts. A mini-escape, but enough to shake things up and feed the wanderlust the seems to overtake me every couple of years.
Thanks to the relative location-independence of my specific job, I proposed (and was approved for) a 9-week stay in Mexico City, where I will take Spanish classes and work remotely, all in the cute, hip neighborhood (and, in fact, at the same lovely house) I stayed in during my 2007 visit. In the middle of the trip, Jesús will come down and we'll explore a beach town (Acapulco, most likely) and one or two of the colonial cities in Central Mexico (probably Guanajuato, possibly San Miguel de Allende). But the real purpose is just to keep working toward 100% fluency. And to be able to do that while still working for a rad company is a big win.
The trip will come in the beginning of February. There's plenty to do before then. I'm peacing out of my current place in Berkeley -- after three years !!! -- at the end of December, kickin' it in SF at J's (tiny) apartment for January, heading south until the second week of April and coming back here, where J and I will figure out what makes sense moving forward.
The trip is one of the reasons this blog still exists. Being in such an insane and exciting city for so long will, I'm sure, provide great blog fodder. And if not, read his stuff instead.
Thanks to the relative location-independence of my specific job, I proposed (and was approved for) a 9-week stay in Mexico City, where I will take Spanish classes and work remotely, all in the cute, hip neighborhood (and, in fact, at the same lovely house) I stayed in during my 2007 visit. In the middle of the trip, Jesús will come down and we'll explore a beach town (Acapulco, most likely) and one or two of the colonial cities in Central Mexico (probably Guanajuato, possibly San Miguel de Allende). But the real purpose is just to keep working toward 100% fluency. And to be able to do that while still working for a rad company is a big win.
The trip will come in the beginning of February. There's plenty to do before then. I'm peacing out of my current place in Berkeley -- after three years !!! -- at the end of December, kickin' it in SF at J's (tiny) apartment for January, heading south until the second week of April and coming back here, where J and I will figure out what makes sense moving forward.
The trip is one of the reasons this blog still exists. Being in such an insane and exciting city for so long will, I'm sure, provide great blog fodder. And if not, read his stuff instead.
Monday, November 10, 2008
In the Minority
From Sunday's Prop 8 protest at the Capitol Building in Sacramento.
As I walked around these days I decide which group each person passing me is in. It's a fun game.
As I walked around these days I decide which group each person passing me is in. It's a fun game.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Rev. Amos Brown
Originally uploaded by tjdee
Strong words from Mayor Gavin Newsom (also knows as Babycakes), as well: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tjdegroat/3008036937/
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