SideTracked

Got Critters on My Mind

2008-05-16T05:54:22Z

1935, no. 112, p. 42-3
A page from the Shanghai-based Young Companion pictorial journal (良友) featuring dogs imitating human behavior ("人類的模仿").

Temperatures hit 96 degrees today, making for two very lethargic dogs for most of the afternoon. We're dogsitting for my advisor again, another reason I've got critters on the mind.

My laptop cooler died in the afternoon, and my Acer Aspire (which runs hot even after I had replaced the spontaneously combusting battery) just couldn't stand the afternoon sunshine that beams down directly on my desk, so I brought it over to the couch. That's where I was sitting, bringing a cool cup of iced coffee to my lips when I heard the sudden commotion of two squabbling dogs out in the backyard.

I didn't notice that I had splashed coffee all over my laptop's touchpad until I had run out back, separated the two dogs and dealt with the immediate aftermath. I powered off my laptop pretty much immediately after discovery. Actually, I'm trying to ignore the fact that any of that happened, because suffice to say, it'll be that much harder to finish this semester with a dead laptop. Meanwhile, I'm plugging away on my buggy, torpid, 5-year-old ThinkPad (which has actually survived a much worse coffee spill), hoping for the best. A fried laptop might be the worst way to end the semester, but maybe a temporary forced separation from that machine will do me some good. There are all sorts of bugs on this laptop which render half of my procrastination websites inaccessible. Might as well have happened now.

Recharge

2008-04-20T00:11:05Z

Joaquin Miller Park in Oakland has the most boring dog run I've ever seen in the Bay Area, but the surrounding forest area? Amazing. Just the kind of natural boost I needed to plug through some more work on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Bowdu obviously enjoyed it too. He got to bring home a lovely eucalyptus perfume on his back. I'm so glad he didn't scent roll in bird shit or dead squirrel.

Because I Love My Music and You Should Too

2008-04-12T06:46:13Z

I'm ambivalent about this site, because it's absolutely nothing whatsoever like those tangible mixtapes that I once knew and loved, but it is pretty easy to pull together a clutch of songs for instant sharing (not that I think you can download any of the tracks). The GIANT FONT PLAYLISTS are also irritating, but the size of the font does kind of express how much I like each of the songs I put on the mix.

I'm giving it a go so you can give it a go:

http://radiozilla.muxtape.com/

Beach Babe

2008-03-25T03:51:54Z

As a general rule, Shibas aren't supposed to be trusted off-leash. A combination of their independent streak and hyperactive prey drive is supposed to make their recall unreliable, and you're "absolutely NEVER" supposed to let them go, lest you wind up with a lost or car-flattened puppy.

But we live in a rather atypical area, where off-leash dog parks are abundant, and Bowdu is a special Shiba in some ways (just as any pet is a special exception, right?). After all, he never enjoyed going outside, on OR off-leash while we were living in Taiwan. How I envied other dog owners who were able to walk their dogs with such slack leads, and how I envied even more those dogs that followed obediently, without a leash. It seemed like such a natural and effortless relationship, like other dogs were born understanding how to ignore the constant threat of traffic and crowds, knowing to stay close to their owner. Contrary to the word 'round these parts, I've seen many a Shiba capable of off-leash restraint -- at least, specifically in Taiwan.

So I was a little nervous the first time we let Bowdu off-leash at Cesar E. Chavez, but... it's hard to describe the pure animal joy that exploded from this pup when he realized that for maybe only the second time in his life, he was free to just run, as hard and as fast as he liked (the first time being that day we decided on a whim to let him run around on the salt field in Utah, since it felt like we were surrounded by a great expanse of nothingness). After my initial anxiety wore off, it became apparent that his sense of freedom didn't necessarily mean he would run as far as possible -- or at least, as far as he cared to run was that distance that still kept R. or me within view. Once or twice he's crested a hill and temporarily lost sight of us, but upon rounding a bend we'd catch him frantically looking left and right, only to bound back in our direction for an eager, lolly-tongued reunion once he found us again.

There are a couple other Shiba owners that go to the smaller, fenced-in dog park in town, and we've chatted about this before. I've encouraged them to give the larger parks a go, but I think they're more by-the-book type of Shiba parents, so they're very skeptical about letting their baby run off all by herself. Then again, their dog is also way more socialized than Bowdu, so of course some good comes out of doing everything as you're supposed to. No, we've never put Bowdu through a formal training regimen. He knows sit, down, shake, give me a kiss, and that's about it. His stay lasts about 30 seconds. His recall sucks and if he doesn't feel like coming, he WON'T come (though I do keep a cache of extra savory treats on me anytime we go to the park, periodically slipping him a bite to remind him that it pays to stick close to me). That's just the kind of bastard he is. But somehow, he always knows whom he's with, and returns accordingly. Even when we're in the middle of acres and acres of open space, he needs not make a distinction between freedom and home.

An Attack of the Digressions

2008-03-22T07:11:16Z

The new East Asian Library is remarkably photogenic, inside and out. The length of the building intensifies the sense of linear perspective, so I feel like the entire building is rushing forth to welcome me when I stand in the open length that bisects each floor. Mostly natural lighting, recessed ceiling lights, wood floors, and textured wall surfaces give it a gallery feel, so refreshing compared to some of the dark and cramped Asian libraries I can recall.

To celebrate its opening and the beginning of spring break, I checked out a copy of one of the books that got me excited about this field to begin with, J.I. Crump's Chinese Theater in the Days of Kublai Khan (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1980).

No, I was never fixated on the Middle Kingdom proper, which is perhaps why the events of the brief, "barbaric" rule of the Mongolian Yuan Dynasty appealed to me. But my fond memories of this book admittedly stem just as much, if not more, from style than content. Crump received his PhD from Yale University, after which he taught at the University of Michigan, which is where I first read parts of this book as an undergraduate (though long after Crump's tenure). His jovial writing style and absolutely ridiculous footnotes won me over. This was NOT the kind of writing I thought was permissible on academic presses, but he had paragraphs and paragraphs of footnotes like this:

"Reader (and I hope I am still talking to the same one I addressed in my Important Notice [what we would call the Preface in blander books]), this little nosegay of asterisks will be used throughout the book to indicate an attack of the digressions. The same mark, but with its stem pointing up instead of down, indicates the end of a spasm. When a simiar device was used on other occasions, the more unkind among my critics insisted that it was a cross marking the place where my train of thought had died. In a sense, perhaps, they were right; I have always loved and fallen easy prey to digressions. I enjoyed them by lecturers when I went to college and by authors when I read, and find I perversely remember digressions long after I've forgotten the main thrust. [...] However, I know that digressions are not everyone's cup of tea, so I feel called upon to signal those who are impatient with them. If you wish to get directly to the resumption of the argument instead of dawdling here with me, run your eye over the next couple of pages until you see the upside-down bouquet and begin" (8n.).

Passages like this just meant that I got giddy everytime I got to one of the "nosegayed" sections, sprinkled throughout the book with enough frequency to keep me plugging along at a pace brisk. The book definitely didn't encourage an evenly sustained or concentrated mode of reading, as his digressions frequently fell outside of the marked text. This footnote, for instance, comments on the ecological devastation of the Mongols eager to clear forests for pastures on which to raise their horses:

Regarding cultivated trees, the Chinese had early taken to planting dense groves of trees in sensitive border areas to slow down the horsemen from the steppes. The nomadic invaders often responded by cutting down the trees and dragging them with them to fill in city moats or defense works [He gives a citation...]. Trees, alas, are always early victims of war, both ancient and modern. (20n.)

Such lively, spirited, personality-laden writing, back in the days when Sinologists could get away with it! I can only imagine the fun that students must have had in his classes, though in some ways I can imagine that Professor Rolston, who took up the role of Chinese theater specialist during my time there (and is still there, as far as I know), retains traces of the quirkiness that must have animated Crump's lectures.

One last reason as to why I felt compelled to check this book out of the library, aside from a little jaunt down memory lane -- this copy came from the personal library of Cyril Birch, esteemed translator of many key editions of canonical Chinese classics still in common circulation in the field and long-time professor here. The book is also inscribed with a note from the author. "For Cyril: Who has impeccable taste in books and said kind words for the jacket of this one. Jim." No doubt a number of books in the library come from Birch's personal collection, but for now, this one graces my home library with a little of its own, special aura.

Yellow and White

2008-03-17T00:36:09Z

The lawn hasn't been mowed since we moved in... which is just as well, since daddy never taught his girls how to handle a lawnmower and R.'s been busy with other house projects. Meanwhile, the rainy winter has transformed everything from a crunchy mess of brown straw and weeds into an absolutely verdant yard of... well, grass and weeds. Nature can do her thing for now. Meanwhile, Bowdu is happy to tamp down a little patch of clovers for a cushioned spot in the sunshine, perfect for an afternoon nap. We're observing and learning the cycle of happenings in the garden -- or what will be garden, when I finally find the time and energy (and worm castings) to plot other plants alongside the existing flora. So far, we have some gorgeous pink lily-things that appeared in the fall and a clump of delphinium-like stalks in the back. Several calla lilies that recently bloomed were also a nice surprise.

The lemons that dangle over the fence from one neighbor's side are quite welcome, and we definitely make use of them. My feelings regarding the plums from the other neighbor are more mixed. The trees growing on our side of the fence seems to be an extension of the same plant in their yard, which would lend support to the rumor that plum trees are difficult to get rid of. I'm not wild about the fruit, especially when it's produced in such massive quantities that we could never consume it all, but I have to admit that the flowers are pretty sweet and therefore soften my opinion of this plant. For now, at least.

And then there's these little yellow flowers that have sprung up all around the border of the yard. I'm assuming that they're weedy wildflowers, since they're all over the most unkempt lawns in Berkeley. But hey, Bowdu's happy to relax amongst those dainty yellow blossoms, it's so cute, and it's spring! Let 'em bloom. Why not?

Perspective

2008-03-05T05:32:26Z

20080304 Big Butt
This angle balloons Bowdu out to about 2 or 3 times his actual size. Imagining him as a 60 pound dog makes me giggle.

In Praise of Inertia

2008-03-03T05:39:04Z

I took Bowdu to Cesar E. Chavez today, where the kite flyers were out in droves. I haven't delighted in flying my own kite since I was maybe six years old, but I do admire the array of shapes and colors set against a clear California sky. So many creative possibilities crafted from paper and nylon and mere plastic sheets! As I was passing underneath a purple dragon with intricately layered translucent gold and pink wings, I heard a sharp male voice bark out from behind me,

"THOMAS. GET over here, or you won't LEARN anything."

And this prepubescent kid with his hands stuffed in his hooded sweatshirt pockets and a bored pout pasted on his face followed the kite line back to his father, who continued to chide him for standing there slack-jawed and useless (he actually used that word) -- for not appreciating the inherent aesthetic and scientific wonder of kite-flying, I guess.

For some reason, the incident instantly brought to mind Lu Xun's story, "風箏 (Kite)." The narrator harbors a deep disdain for his little brother's fascination with kites, particularly the way he always stands and watches in dumb fascination when the neighborhood boys fly them out on beautiful days. One day, he discovers that his little brother has secretly constructed a butterfly kite, and in a fit of tyrannical rage, the older brother destroys the kite. Decades later, in adulthood, the narrator comes to realize that child's play is an essential component of human development, and that play itself can hold educational value. Chagrined, the narrator apologizes to his little brother, but the latter has completely forgotten the incident already. The apology is impotent. "Without hard feelings, forgiveness is a lie (無怨的恕, 說謊罷了)."

Anyway, the connection I made here was something along the lines of how well-meaning elders with ultra-rationalized conceptions of how one should spend their time will inevitably rob childhood of its most sacred, carefree moments. Because there SHOULD be times when you're allowed to just stand in the sun, silent and useless, doing nothing at all... Even now, I waste so much energy fighting mental sluggishness because I forget that part of the trick to "learning all the time" is not insisting on the educational value of every millisecond and allowing some of those moments to pass unnoticed and unaccounted for while your mind and your blood adjusts to inertia.

Did I ever learn how to play uselessly as a child? The closest I might have gotten might've been those hour-long sessions of propping myself upside-down against the back of the couch while I imagined walking around the entire apartment on the ceiling. Or no-handed bike riding in endless circles on a vacant and newly-paved parking lot, doing that as long as I could until sunset. Is this concentration, the focusing of attention upon a fine and repetitive task, or more like meditation, with a dissipation and release of self-awareness that I consider the opposite of concentration? Either way, I could do with a better grasp on one or the other right now.

Reruns, Reposts, Recap

2008-03-01T09:34:50Z

It's March now. I posted in this journal only once during the month of February, shifting my daily activity over to roll_of_28 for the duration of the month. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm ready to come home now.

The writing I do here sounds less and less like what I want it to sound like these days, but I think I just have to get back into the habit. Meanwhile, here's a visual recap of February -- never mind if these images are already familiar to some of you.

Oyasumi.

Mercy for the Moneyed

2008-02-02T03:22:23Z

20080201 Symbolic Center
Why do I bother taking pictures of buildings that have undoubtedly been captured thousands of times by far more professional photographers?

Why, for the sake of roll_of_28, of course. The point is to take one photo a day, to be posted to the community that day, just for the month of February. I've mentioned this to a couple of you beforehand, but now that it's on again, I hope to see some of you there.

I'm looking specifically at you folks, radiosilents, alsoname, and thian_un.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

2008-01-26T01:28:17Z

Note to self: If you're going to share an umbrella with a stranger at a bus stop, make sure he's not a viking who stands over a foot and a half taller than yourself. Otherwise, you're not really sharing the umbrella so much as you are sheltering Moondog while all the rain continues to pelt you in the face.

Obviously, what we need at every bus stop is a life-size Totoro statue holding an umbrella -- just in case, for these rainy days, and just in case for those other days when trudging to the bus stop seems like such a drag.

(Thanks to sarabellum for the link).

Scheming

2008-01-13T10:43:52Z

Schemer by day, thief at night. One reason I would be so uneasy about leaving Bowdu with anybody but the most experienced of dog handlers is that he has a terribly bratty habit of stealing stupid, insignificant things. Sure, there's something to be said for dog-proofing your house, but a hair tie, a Sharpie, an empty Fruit Roll-Up wrapper or even a chunk of scrap wood discarded from a closet renovation project are all fair game in his mind. He'll slink off into the bedroom or the yard with his pilfered possession, just waiting to be discovered. When we eventually notice that the dog has been too quiet for too long and go to check on him, he'll be crouched low over his new thing, just daring us to retrieve it from between his paws or under his muzzle with flattened ears and a barely audible growl.

He's actually much better about relinquishing items now, but I've still gotta move reeeeal slooow, giving him space to think about what is more precious to him -- his stupid new thing, or my good will. As soon as the item is removed from his touch, you can almost hear a *pop* as the Selfish Devil Bowdu is exorcized from the room, and the Loving Angel Bowdu flutters back to inhabit his proper self.

Anyway, I wanted to post these pictures since I was going through the camera and clearing off the memory to make room for more pictures in preparation for the departmental 新年会 for grad students next Friday. We're hosting it at the house. I have never organized my own party before, at least not without the initiative and help of more social and host(ess)y housemates. I am afraid we're all going to end up sitting on the living room floor with little to do but eat and kvetch about how none of us are ready to start classes again (repeat ad nauseum), especially if only a handful of people bother to trek allll thiiis waaay off campus... but at least we'll have lots of sweet, sweet music on vinyl, CD, and mp3.

What's In Your Food Today?

2007-12-29T02:28:52Z

I just got back from Trader Joe's, where I went to spend a gift card (one of many presents from R.'s parents). Breezed down the frozen food aisle to pick up some spanakopita and a box of mango mochi. A kid dropped and shattered a jar of organic peanut butter in the next aisle over, and as I made my way up to the checkout lanes, a balloon tied to a register popped, causing several people to yelp. And then there were those giant maritime bells that the clerks kept clanging whenever they needed a price check... or a new balloon.

Then I had one of those strangely cinematic moments where all the surrounding sound just rushed out of my ears like I'd just been dipped underwater, as my vision zoomed in on a little laminated, black-and-white sign taped up next to the credit card swiper. The sign announced a recall on all jars of Pinjur stamped with a Best By 10/2009 date, due to pieces of glass being reported in the product.

I wondered if this Pinjur was being made in the same plant as their Indian Fare line. Or worse yet, maybe this happened in two totally unrelated packaging plants, which would almost give this coincidence the air of conspiracy. Like there's a secret cult of saboteurs planted somewhere along the chain of distribution slipping pieces of broken glass into random vats of Trader Joe products because they too find the idea of buying $8.00 organic, freshly-squeezed orange juice at a seaside cabana-themed grocery store to be utterly absurd. Something worth terrorizing.

Yeah, I've given them a few more chances despite that traumatic first visit. And I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth -- R. really does like their spinach pie, as far as frozen spinach pies go -- but I think you'll be finding me back there less... and less...

Emetics and Enemas for Christmas, Oh My!

2007-12-21T00:29:25Z

Bowdu chewed up an ant button that I foolishly left on the floor behind the toilet, thinking he would ignore it. So he was forcefed activated charcoal and received an enema for Christmas. I mean, he was behaving perfectly normally before and after we brought him in, but after what happened with the time he ate coffee grounds, better safe than sorry.

No worries. Not for this guy, at least.

... and then there was One

2007-12-14T21:11:10Z

This was me yesterday, and the afternoon before that, forcing myself to try and be productive amongst books and people who are Studious and quiet and fluorescence. I have a problem with writing when people are looking over my shoulder, but I find it easier to do so when seated amongst strangers. I sort of use their presence as a stopwatch, telling myself I can't leave until the majority of them are gone. The emptier the hall is by the time I leave, the more productive I felt I have been, regardless of the number of pages read or written.

It's a totally false sense of satisfaction, of course.

The grad services library closes early this afternoon, like the weekend is supposed to mean anything right now, so I'm not schlepping everything there for just a few hours of work. It's sunny outside, but still cold in this house. Since I put on my hoodie and gloves, the dog has been pushing his muzzle against my thigh and making expectant noises.

Might as well go to the park and try to hash some of this out, because it's not going to come any faster if I just sit around here.

Late Night Munchies

2007-12-08T09:11:25Z

Since both my local Safeway and Target stopped carrying Asian Sensations brand egg rolls, I've spent the last couple of months dolefully wandering the frozen foods aisles looking for a replacement. None of the other brands were able to satisfy my cravings -- not Mrs. Chung, not Ming Tsai, not TGIF, certainly not Safeway's own "Imperial" line... It's kind of sad how many other brands I tried. Trader Joe's vegetable egg rolls came close, but it still wasn't the same.

I finally just tracked down the product online.

I ordered 36 egg rolls.

They will be arriving in an insulated, reusable cooler packed with dry ice on or around the 13th.

Whuuut have I done?

Narrative Albums

2007-11-14T07:25:29Z

Here's a question for my music-savvy friends:

Can you name some musical albums that take on a narrative structure? Obviously, soundtracks to musicals are excluded. I'm thinking more along the lines of the entire album itself (liner notes included) as a standalone, self-contained object, with characters that progress and unfold into some coherent story.

I feel like I should be able to list much more than the Labor Exchange Band's Night March of the Chrysanthemums, which I've been playing on repeat in preparation for this week's class. R. mentioned Tom Waits' Alice, and to that I would add Randy Greif's amazing box set based on Alice in Wonderland -- but even the inclusion of that series is shaky, given (at least in the latter's case) the direct connection to pre-existing literature. aum mentioned some of the Residents' work.

What else?

Speaking of Wildlife...

2007-11-11T19:25:46Z

Woke up this morning, let Bowdu out into the backyard as usual. He ran to the back corner by the fence and started barking strangely and pawing at something on the ground. Went back to check it out. Not a dead raccoon, not some junk that the neighbors threw over the fence, but...

... a baby possum. Tussled with the dog because he really DIDN'T want to leave -- not when there was a real! live? critter! invading his space. But I didn't want him hurting the little guy.

About an hour later, the little guy's still there, wedged into the corner of the fence with his rump and bi-colored rattail sticking out. Like he thinks he's hiding, but he's still clearly visible. I wonder how long I should leave him alone before we report it as orphaned? Meanwhile, Bowdu would probably like to reclaim his yard, eventually...

Also, I did not know this before, but the Opossum Society notes that these creatures can play dead so well, they might even excrete green anal fluid a part of the act. Amazing.

Edit: About 6 hours later, he disappeared. I take that as a good sign.

Thoughts While Washing Dishes

2007-11-04T23:29:33Z

So I'm washing the dishes, my eyes are wandering, and for the first time, I notice that my Dawn dish detergent has a little caption integrated into its logo featuring a soaring duck and gracefully arching seal: "Rescuing Wildlife for over 25 Years!" What the hell? Since when were dish soap makers associated with charitable environmentalism? I mean, maybe the fact that you use this soap to wash dishes by hand, which is supposed to conserve more water, makes the relationship seem only slightly less tenuous... but the more I thought about it, the more irritated I became. It just felt really gratuitous and probably disingenuous, all for the sake of pandering to a growing, self-identified "Green" market.

There's this peach-colored house down the street with a small fleet of electric cars parked in the street. Every night, the cars have to recharge. They're left out in the street with a glowing electrical cord trailing across the sidewalk, posted with orange traffic cones as if to draw public attention to the fact that Hey! People! We've got electric caaaaars here! Someone's apparently making commission off these buggers, since each of the vehicles bears a license plate with messages like U BUY IT or IM YOURS.

One afternoon, I was walking Bowdu down that street and noticed a guy hosing down one of the cars. Curiosity got the better of me that day, and I paused to talk to him, just wanting to know how much one of those things happened to cost. "Hi! Are you selling these electric cars?" I asked.

"Uh? No, no. I'm just washing them," says the guy.

And immediately I got so irritated. Freakin' yuppies in their peach-colored condo selling [probably overpriced] electric cars that they don't even have the time (or desire?) to wash themselves. They certainly didn't hire this guy because they don't know how to wash a car. It drives me nuts... all this money to invest in a fancy house and showy cars, but an environmental conscience doesn't necessarily mean a social conscience. I know I'm being judgmental, but cripes -- if your financial investments are beyond your scheduling capabilities, you're probably just getting greedy and ultimately, doing more to perpetuate a system that's inherently screwed up.

The Bossy Kid

2007-10-23T06:38:37Z

I've been taking Bowdu pretty regularly to the little, fenced-in dog park that's closest to our 'hood. Usually, I stake out a spot away from the chitchatters and try to get at least an hour of [highly distracted] reading done while I'm there. But sometimes it's hard to get work done when you're just surrounded by so much CUTE.

Anyway, here's a short video of Bowdu playing with a Samoyed puppy and a Bull Terrier (sort of). It's not the most exciting or well shot video, but it's a good demonstration of how vocal he gets when he's playing, and how he sounds downright mean (but really, he's just acting the part of the obnoxious, bossy kid at the playground). Sadly, I cut it off right before he went REALLY crazy and started streaking around the park with half a dozen dogs chasing after him...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ERKI70kk-k

A Boxful of New Pets

2007-10-08T05:12:44Z

Enough with the cuteness and the fluffiness that tends to dominate my picture postings! Here's to more wriggliness.

R: "But I don't like keeping caged animals..."

Twitchy

2007-10-05T06:59:09Z

I've noticed that my joints and extremities have become cold and twitchy in the past few years, causing me to shuffle uncontrollably especially in the moments right before sleep. Aching ulnae, cramping thighs, popping neck muscles... this body keeps reminding me of itself every night, just as I'm trying to put it to rest. Perhaps because I tend to ignore my body during normal waking hours, treating it merely as this vehicle that transports me from here to there in the course of a day, that at night, when there is nowhere else to go but sleep, these senses reactivate with a vengeance to remind me that hey, you're still flesh and pain and this body is not merely an instrument. It's a useful reminder which I haven't learned to ignore yet.

Despite the twitches, I laid relatively comfortably -- and still!, for about an hour and a half -- in an fMRI scanner yesterday. Maybe because at that moment, my body understood that it was indeed supposed to behave like an instrument. A neuroscience lab here is doing an experiment that calls for right-handed, non-prescription drug-taking, non-pregnant, non-thisandthat females with a certain gene, and I fulfilled the requirements. They asked me to complete a series of simple tasks while they monitored my brain activity. I did the first round yesterday, and I'm supposed to return in a couple weeks, in synch with my menstrual cycle, since estrogen levels are supposed to be one of the variables they're tracking.

That last bit makes me suspicious about their very motives. I suppose my distrust of most institutionalized, scientific enterprises also has me a little anxious. Not anxious enough to refuse the opportunity to make a couple hundred bucks while I'm at it... but enough to wonder if I'm contributing to some study that aims to demonstrate how women with a certain gene (present in supposedly 40% of women) are functionally compromised when they're menstruating or something. R. puts it another way: Maybe women with a certain gene don't do what they're told to do as "adequately" when they're on their period.

I won't go into the details of the tasks, because they are totally mundane and repetitive and just not at all correlative with what I would typically subject myself to for any length of time. Lying inside that tube with a panel of buttons appended to my hand to respond to certain "stimuli", I couldn't help but think how the whir and screech of the machine was infinitely more stimulating than what I was supposed to be concentrating on. But they said I "passed", whatever that means. Despite fatigue and the overwhelming desire to fall asleep in the middle of peforming their tasks, I served my function. This distracted mind is completely in line with normative data values.

Happy Walls

2007-09-15T00:48:38Z

It might be hard to see from this picture, but there's a two-tone effect going with the back wall (with the built-in bookshelf) and the rest of the living room walls. For my first time painting a house, I think I did a damn good job.

R.'s been busy with the other half of the house. It wouldn't be fair of me to post pictures of his work just yet, but let's just say... he hasn't been slacking!

A more substantive update to come later.

At the Dog Park, Saturday Afternoon Shiba-Style

2007-08-11T21:06:35Z

Bowdu, like his owners, has never been the most popular dog at the park. When he charges through the gates with his cooler-than-thou attitude and vocal scrapping style, he's often easily misunderstood. He tends to avoid large congregations, preferring to explore his own territory and observe from a distance. That's why it's always nice when he does find a well-matched playmate. Double the kawaiiiiiiii if it's another Shiba!

Tetsu had a ball that Bowdu kept on stealing. Normally, Bowdu will put up a huge fight and refuse to relinquish his pilfered balls, but he was actually doing a strange relay with this dog. Tetsu's owner would throw the ball, Bowdu would scramble to reach it first, and after fetching it, he'd promenade around the park with Tetsu right behind him. Bowdu would drop the ball in mid-stride, and the other would pick it back up, continuing the promenade until they eventually returned to the rough vicinity of the originally thrower. Neither dog was a fetch-and-drop-it-at-your-feet type of dog.

Bowdu's the one with the red collar.

Tetsu's coming on strong...

But haha, Bowdu's not so easy.

Bowdu's a butt-biter.

It's hard to photograph doggies under a picnic table.
Especially when the picnic table smells like pee.

I Work From Home So I Can Babysit My Broth

2007-08-06T05:51:09Z

The temperature tonight is below 60°F.
The floor in my study room is cool.

So I made lotus root soup from a slowly simmered pork broth. I went downstairs every half hour or so to scrape the meat scum off the side of the pot and remove pools of oil. The camera exaggerates the layer of remaining slick. Despite appearances, this was the best damn pot of soup I've made in a long while.

I will have deliciousness for days!