Thursday, November 08, 2007
Life is güt.
Found my green hat. Mom hid it in the wardrobe. She confessed over email today. Still don't understand Pakistan.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Cycling trivialities
2 months, 3 days, 23 hours and 5 minutes since I touched down in DC from Uganda. Feels like a few lifetimes and accordingly, the world hasn't stopped moving on its dizzying path.
The global [steamy] warmth of climate change (yay Al Gore!) just gave out for a cold front, which, after many fickle weeks, finally seems to have settled in across this city. I'm living in the midst of it now, and my newly acquired fall coat with an obligatory stand up collar is just not cutting it. The cold is already penetrating. The trees are all still full and green, but starting to rustle and brown a bit at the edges, like the macadamia-nut-crusted tilapia I left in the oven too long tonight (note to self - edamame only tastes good raw, salted and preferably at a trendy Cafe Asia). I also lost my favorite green knit hat this week and felt my heart break in two.
Anyhow, I'm now walking to and from work, walking pretty much everywhere. My car is lazily resting in a dark corner of the parking garage, occasionally taken out for a spin to the suburban grocery stores. I shrunk my carbon footprint and in exchange am laying human footprints all over the map of DC's letters, numbers and states.
As I sit directly in front of the space heater in my new-ish apartment with fingers poised at the keyboard, I can't help but feel a little windswept and overwhelmed. There's so much to say and I've been sort of, well, quiet lately. So for now I'm going to keep it simple. Who knows if you'll hear from me tomorrow or months from now. Some fresh things to ponder.
News from Uganda, Vincent Otti is dead. Either that or suffering from cholera, which means he's dead. What next?
I went to see Andrew Bird. His rendition of Scythian Empires made me think of giraffes and elephants and bus rides. It also made me cry big fat public tears.
Pakistan is in turmoil. I am trying to read the news and understand, but it the complexity is surpassing my ability to finish articles, therefore eliminating the possibility that I will one day get it.
Since it's too late to see My Children! My Africa! at Studio Theater, you should read the Fugard's play (like right now), stopping often to pause and reflect.
Shameless self-promotion: www.onemangotree.com. I guess you can say that among the cycling trivialities, yoga, self pity and family visits, that's what I've been up to.
The global [steamy] warmth of climate change (yay Al Gore!) just gave out for a cold front, which, after many fickle weeks, finally seems to have settled in across this city. I'm living in the midst of it now, and my newly acquired fall coat with an obligatory stand up collar is just not cutting it. The cold is already penetrating. The trees are all still full and green, but starting to rustle and brown a bit at the edges, like the macadamia-nut-crusted tilapia I left in the oven too long tonight (note to self - edamame only tastes good raw, salted and preferably at a trendy Cafe Asia). I also lost my favorite green knit hat this week and felt my heart break in two.
Anyhow, I'm now walking to and from work, walking pretty much everywhere. My car is lazily resting in a dark corner of the parking garage, occasionally taken out for a spin to the suburban grocery stores. I shrunk my carbon footprint and in exchange am laying human footprints all over the map of DC's letters, numbers and states.
As I sit directly in front of the space heater in my new-ish apartment with fingers poised at the keyboard, I can't help but feel a little windswept and overwhelmed. There's so much to say and I've been sort of, well, quiet lately. So for now I'm going to keep it simple. Who knows if you'll hear from me tomorrow or months from now. Some fresh things to ponder.
News from Uganda, Vincent Otti is dead. Either that or suffering from cholera, which means he's dead. What next?
I went to see Andrew Bird. His rendition of Scythian Empires made me think of giraffes and elephants and bus rides. It also made me cry big fat public tears.
Pakistan is in turmoil. I am trying to read the news and understand, but it the complexity is surpassing my ability to finish articles, therefore eliminating the possibility that I will one day get it.
Since it's too late to see My Children! My Africa! at Studio Theater, you should read the Fugard's play (like right now), stopping often to pause and reflect.
Shameless self-promotion: www.onemangotree.com. I guess you can say that among the cycling trivialities, yoga, self pity and family visits, that's what I've been up to.
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