Thunder Struck!

Sitting at my little table this morning, sending out job applications and such, I heard a rumbling from outside. Oh, it's the end of the month, I reasoned, must be a moving truck. But as I went about my work and indulged in my tea and throbbing electro music, I kept hearing that rumble. Time to turn down the music and investigate.

I opened the blinds in my bedroom and saw the stretches of grey coming from one side of the peninsula. When I looked out my kitchen window there was sunshine on the opposite side of the peninsula. Hmm...a few minutes later the rumble came again. This was thunder. Thunder! In San Diego! Awesome! I love storms, I thought I had given them up when I moved out here.

I grabbed my flips and went out toward the bay. One side blue, the other side white. with a mohawk thundercloud streaking in between. This was exciting. After a few steps I discovered a flowerhead somehow perfectly severed and left to wilt alone on the side walk. I took it as a gift and picked it up to take with me. There was only a moment of very light rain as I approached the east side of the bay. Few people were out, and for a few moments everything was still. I began walking along the point towards the west side. By the time I was there the mohawk had grown, the thunder returned and brought actual rain along with it. I reveled in the moment. The wind, the rain, the dark, though always with blue sky at my side. This was cool. I took a few steps into the bay and released my flower friend into the sea, a much better place to retire than the sidewalk. Satisfied, happy, I walked back to my place to resume my daily work. That was a good break. Now the sun is out in full force, storm clouds are long gone. Back to work!

I thought of two songs regarding thunder, so you can choose which one you'd like to accompany your reading. It's Duran Duran, during their brief reunion with Andy Taylor before he screwed it all up with his ego. And the immortal KISS! with God of Thunder. Unfortunately, I could not embed the live version featuring Gene's full demon theatrics. There's a link below and it's worth it. The crowd shots are a riot. And that blood is actually food-dyed yogurt.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zgkLhfiGIqY

The Dive In

Being poor and adrift, I put forth some free events to fill my calendar and help me get immersed in San Diego. Tonight was first up, free showing of Weird Science at The Pearl, a hotel in Point Loma. I had seen just slightly more than the prior description in a local journal, and had no idea what to expect. Was presented with an alternative offer, but I stuck to my guns.

So I ended up at the Pearl around 7:30. From Rosecrans Street, this place looked like the Bates Motel. What a dump. Then I walked in and I was in the middle of an ultra-trendy, L.A. like scene. Stereophonic servers, chi-chi clientele, and very expensive menu items. I mean look at the picture from the link below, Hollywood chic, right? On the outside it was a disaster, inside you would never want to leave.

I was ignored for a solid ten minutes when I sat at the bar, nothing unusual these days but I'd had enough and complained to the manager, a heavily tattooed short man who was working two blondes at the other end of the bar. I asked if the establishment didn't want my money. Soon enough, I had very attentive dingbat service. My orders were taken, specifications (no mayonnaise!) were ignored, and I sat there trying to enjoy such a happening spot. I talked with the guy on my right who clearly worked in the business and we dissected the service and some differences between the East and West Coast approach. On my left were two dudes acting as each other's wing while they ran sets with every server and woman they encountered. Pretty funny. A charming group introduced themselves to me and swept me away, right after I was offered a free dessert wine called "Naughty Silky" and had my request for more soda water completely ignored. My bill was drastically comped, so I saved a significant amount. All in all, good times.

The movie, by the way, was Weird Science. I remember living on Cottownwood Circle and going to see it with my parents in 1985. Meanwhile, my sister was babysitting on Tiffany Lane for Eric (ironically, eight months older than me) and Kara. My parents were appalled by all the sex and bad behavior in the movie. Even though I didn't understand it at the time, I loved it, and had much to tell Eric. Classic. Never thought I'd be watching it at a pool bar in San Diego, stepping back to appreciate Kelly Le Brock in all her delectable glory. Very funny movie, and I understand why my parents were outraged at the time. But that just makes the whole thing funnier. Good times.

http://www.thepearlsd.com/divein/

Some Cross Promotion

Today, pushups, cleaning, pullups, tea, stretching, job searching, cooking, phone calls, blah, blah, blah. Nothing exciting for you all out there. Truly have stepped into the void, standing before a big empty and it's up to me to try and fill it. Of course I'll need a little help from the powers that be.

As we wait and see what shall happen, here's my second article out on the Examiner.com. Still getting the lay of the land out there. If I want any kind of exposure I need to find advertizers, link lists, and a bunch of other stuff that is foreign to me. But, if I do all of that, I could be making as much a dollar an article. Big money!

http://www.examiner.com/newcomer-in-san-diego/great-burgers-despite-insidious-mayonnaise

More Frustration

Spanish group was a challenge. My Spanish certainly is not what it used to be, but there's also the fact that I'm in a forced situation. When I was in Mexico 2 years ago my Spanish flowed rather effortlessly. Not quite as easy with the situation tonight. But when people ask you if you're Brazilian when you speak Spanish it's hard not to be a little bit annoyed. Innocent question, but I expect better of myself and obviously I've just been lazy and adrift for far too long in my life and now here I am where everything is a struggle. I chose this, to see what I have to work on. The latest returns tell me I have to work on quite a bit. Improve my Spanish, improve my overall image, be able to hold my own in a fight, be ready to skillfully deflect other people and reframe situations. Frustrating. I used to think I was a pretty interesting person, now on a daily basis I get ample evidence to the contrary. I think, more often than not, I'm dealing with people who don't understand how to react to me, or haven't had enough interaction with people like me. Regardless, that's not their fault. And I need to figure out how to present myself in a palatable way to them or else it's going to be a pretty lonely, unsuccessful road. None of these thoughts are revelations, they've been on my mind for awhile now and, as I said, I needed to put myself in a situation where I am forced to change and improve myself for the better. I'm getting what I wished for. It's not very easy, but I'll figure it out and make myself better. The alternative certainly isn't very appealing.

On to tomorrow.

False Pretenses

Once again, another day, another scam. With a hectic schedule, and little happening in job world, I agreed to an interview for a financial advisor position knowing that it was a commission based screw job. However, I felt that the act of getting suited up, driving there, and pushing the interview into my own direction would be good practice for when I'm sitting in an interview for a job that I want. I'm trying to better exercise the act of framing and re-framing situations to my advantage. I thought today provided a good opportunity.

I arrived at the scheduled time and was first alerted by the receptionist asking, "You're here for the 1 o'clock?" as though it were a group interview. See, I'd received three different emails confirming that I was meeting directly with a specific person (fyi, the website showed it was some guy with flamboyantly manicured eyebrows). Turns out, this was a two-step process. First a group business presentation by some other clown, complete with brochures and questions to determine the group's worthiness and/or gullibility, and those chosen would move on into the one on one. When I heard this from the receptionist, I laughed out loud, stated I had no interest in a dog and pony show and walked right out the door. It took about 90 seconds altogether. But I didn't show up to get suckered into buying a time share, I went in for a job interview. I felt good telling them to kiss my ass.

After that, I went to Wal-Mart to pick up a few items. As I had not eaten for a few hours, I soon became ravenous. A focused desire for quiche consumed my mind. I used the GPS to direct me to local French restaurants. I avoided the one at the mall, stopped at a couple others, both of which offered barbecue chicken quesadillas so those were out. 45 minutes and however much gas had passed out the window so I settled for an egg sandwich to be eaten at home.

The sun didn't make it out until about 3:45 today. Before that, it was still quite warm but grey and overcast. That made me happy. It was the kind of day where you felt free to walk around with a chip on your shoulder and a pissed off, East Coast demeanor. I enjoyed it while it lasted.

Now I'm trying to plan some events for the week so that I can get out and maybe find a home in this place where so far I am clearly not welcome. Tonight is the Spanish discussion group at La Costa Brava. I'm looking forward to that. Tomorrow there's a free movie showing and, though I've seen it, why not go rather than sit around here. The local event calendar comes out tomorrow so I'll pick it up and plan out the rest of my week.

Here's to future days.

Remembering New Things

Just came back from a walk around the bay, my first since returning last week. There was a spectacular red sunset, and dense fog of heat gleaming off the surface of the water. I took this picture a few minutes after the sun had disappeared and it does not do justice to the beauty I witnessed.

Now I'm settling in to watch some baseball and relax. The Red Sox season is ending, but how I will miss them once the final game is played. The Padres have a week to determine if they'll win the division, the wild card, or miss out on the playoffs, so that will provide some alternative baseball interest.

Sleep well, everyone.

Pacific Charms

As noted earlier, it is really hot today. After my usual job search carpetbombing, I made my way straight to the beach. While the sand feels hotter than the surface of the sun, once you get your stuff down there is enough of a breeze (which is absent anywhere further inland) that you can be quite comfortable. And the water is a cool, shimmering green. The waves were magnificent. Rolling and thundering, able to eclipse bathers one after the other. Best waves I have seen on Pacific Beach all summer. Good beach day.

Now back to grocery shopping, job searching, and laundry.

Love Under The Sun

Congratulations to Tom & Jaime on their beautiful wedding and wishing them all the best as they begin their life together. A beautiful setting at The Crosby in Rancho Bernardo, some great speeches, plenty of laughter, and some fine dancing. Congratulations.

Santa Anas

It's hot in San Diego:

http://www.sandiegoreader.com/weblogs/outdoor-san-diego/2010/sep/26/santa-anas-come-san-diego/

Ocean Healing

Since I've been back this week, my mood has ranged between okay and miserable. But this morning, a little before 11am, stepping into the waters of Coronado Beach, I was revived. I've been looking forward to oceanic rejuvenation since halfway through last weekend, and I was right to know the proper balm for my wounds. It is a magnificent day here in San Diego. Bright sunshine since dawn. Temperatures near 80. Haven't been many of these. And, even better, I've been with my childhood friends. Any time you're standing one on one with Matt Gibson, life is good. When Eric Pisick is there too, life is that much better. We have a much bigger crew than that, with Tom and Jaime, my San Diego surrogate parents, hours away from celebrating their nuptials. I'm pretty scared about the present and the future, but I know that I am a very fortunate individual.

Today I swam in the Pacific Ocean off of Coronado, a week ago I was standing high up in the Swiss Alps. Obviously I'm worth something. And none of this would be possible if weren't for all the amazing, wonderful people in this world who love me. Thank you all.

And now, for another wedding.

One Day, Breaking The Ice

Today was my first day of work in San Diego. A one shot deal. But, with the ice now broken, I figure it will lead to more.

Qualcomm is based here in San Diego, and is a pretty major figure in the local economy and community. Their name is everywhere. Today was their 25th anniversary party. One of the local catering companies did a mass hire to staff the event, which was expected to serve almost 14,000 employees.

Arrived at noon and watched the loose organization of staffing the few hundred of us that would be working the event. I was bartending, along with roughly 80 others. A parking lot/loading dock on the Qualcomm campus was transformed into a concert venue with a main stage that would pass for that of any outdoor arena. There were another three stages spread throughout the overnight venue, and then serving stations, multiple bars, table and concert seating rounding out the theatre.

We spent the afternoon setting up the bars and beverage stations, with some pretty loose guidance leaving room for the alpha types who were just like the rest of us grunts to try and assert control and provide direction. I pretty much kept my mouth shut and let my work speak for itself. Sure enough, I found a following amongst my comrades, and we were able to pass the time amiably and take care of business, while the alphas exhumed a bunch of hot air and ran in circles.

About three hours in, I became part of a strong trio of workers, and by event time we'd expanded into a band of 7. The beginning of the event had its early episode of chaos but, again, with confident exertion we pulled together and soon enough had a tight machine. I observed the crowd from the engine room, which in this case was behind the beer taps. To my left a member of the original trio poured wine. In front of us we had five face people working the crowd and taking the orders. Beers were the order of the day, and with orders coming through from all sides, the first few hours of the reception and speeches passed by quickly.

Once the CEO got up, the night grounded to a halt. He kept going on and on about how cell phones have changed the world. Going so far as to say that cell phones are the greatest platform in human history. I found that to be quite grandiose and self-serving. There is no greater platform than the human mind, and no technology will ever surpass the impact of shared human emotion, but this was a crowd of engineers and it was his party, so we'll let him have his say. I will say, however, it is amazing that this company started with one guy back in 1985 and today has grown into a major worldwide operation. That is a truly remarkable achievement. Especially because it took 14 months before the company doubled in size to two employees after its inception. Here they are today with 14,000 in San Diego alone.

Finally, the CEO was ready to pass the baton. This brought on a pretty dazzling fireworks display coming from all five points of the makeshift arena. After that, it was on to the main event, a performance by Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds. Earlier in the day it was rumoured to be The Black Eyed Peas, but apparently they fell through at the last minute. Dave Matthews, blazed and dazed out of his gourd, barely able to form sentences and lacking any coherence, played and sang with total heart and dazzling skill. Tim Reynolds was right there with them, displaying his masterful command of the guitar. They played for two hours straight. And for us, it was free. Better than that, we were getting paid.

As the concert pressed on, the oversight of our temporary employers became non-existent. Fortunately, the seven of us had worked our corner of the massive bar with a smooth panache and teamwork. We pooled our tips together and walked away with $18 each in tips. I figure we'll get paid about $11 an hour, and it was a 10 hour shift. The uniform cost me a total $85 dollars, $50 for the shoes and $35 for the pants. So, all in all, a tank of gas. Or food for a day. Nevertheless, it was a positive experience. I met some cool people, all of whom are struggling to make ends meet out here as well, and there's safety, not to mention comfort, in numbers. For one day at least, I had a context. And I'm very comfortable in these types of settings, I'm good at it and I can flex my mind to know how to run things at optimum efficiency, even though I've no idea of when I'll get that chance next. But I know I will get it. With one day of work finally on the books, there are surely more to come.

Editor's Note

Dear friends, please apologize the new dysfunction of the blog. Thanks to the technology gaps, we have lost all semblance of chronology. Due to my phone being left behind in Verbier, there aren't many pictures. But, once my phone is delivered, I'll repost the entries with the appropriate pictures. Either way, there are quite a number of new entries.

Here I sit at 1am, not feeling tired as my body thinks it is 10am. I miss everyone from the weekend. I miss my family. I miss Katerina and Amos. I'm so happy I got to spend such wonderful time with everyone over the past 9 days. Wonderful memories.

The Weekend

No sleeping until the afternoon on Saturday, we had a wedding to attend. There was enough time in the morning to make tea and pick up some prosciutto, brie and baguette from the local market. Those sandwiches were lifesavers.

Decked out in suits and fancy dresses, the elegant crowd boarded the bus to the church at the base of the mountain in Le Chable. The ceremony was beautiful and very upbeat. This was the first time I witnessed a high five exchanged between the new bride and groom as part of their vows.

Kate’s mom lamented about the weather. I thought it was actually quite mystic.
A thick coat of grey had coated the mountains both Friday and Saturday. And, as we climbed high up the mountain to attend the reception, we were literally absorbed by the clouds. This was not at all dour, it truly felt like we were sucked into a magical fairytale which, in a way, we were.

Champagne began to flow, followed by white wine, then red wine, all paired with magnificent food. The first course was a chantarelle mushroom soup, which is one of the greatest dishes I’ve ever tasted. The main course was a divinely seared venison that was absolutely perfect. Espresso and some peach infused grappa accompanied a dessert of local berries and cream. No expense was spared, and every aspect of the reception dripped with excellence.

A group of us piled into an SUV to make it back down the mountain in the village for the afterparty, which was sealed to the public. Almost everyone from the wedding, which had just over one hundred people, made it to the club. There we were, a group from across the globe, reveling in grand celebration of our friends the bride and groom. If any of you have seen the photos on Facebook, you’ll see that this party featured many of the men dancing sans trousers. I guess that means we were no longer quite as elegant, but we certainly were never anything less than posh.

Sunday turned out to be glorious. The sun had returned, and I as I peered off into the magnificent vistas of the Alps, I understand what Kate’s mom was frustrated about the day before. It is certainly spectacular here on a clear day.

We all made it, some earlier than others, back to Kate’s chalet to reflect. The bride insisted that I remain, and I ended up spending the afternoon with a small group of friends and family basking under glorious sun as we all told stories and made one another laugh. We went back into the village for drinks at TBar followed by dinner at a local restaurant, and still more drinks at TBar. By now I truly knew everybody in town.

The wedding was quite an adventure. What really made the weekend special was how intimate it was, whether sitting around a table in the kitchen of the chalet, dancing at the club, or schmoozing at the rehearsal dinner. This couple is bound by love, and the kindness of generosity of each of their friends and family offered each of us a delightful expansion of our own spheres. Thanks to their union, the world became a bit smaller and far more wonderful for us all.

Friday en Verbier

The previous night, everyone I encountered kept remarking about the long journey I had made and therefore how tired I must be. Instead, I felt so happy to be where I was I didn’t feel any hint of exhaustion. This also had something to do with the two Red Bulls I had early on in the evening. When I made it back to the flat around 2am, my body resisted sleep at first. I distracted myself with the television and thought about what I could do during the day to enjoy my surroundings. The next thing I knew, it was 2:15 in the afternoon.

So, no grand adventures on Friday. I did try once again to sort out the internet, to no avail. Picked up a power converter, as the one I had was for the UK. That turned out to be a good thing, as the shop was out of direct American converters, and now I had a rather unique looking 3 tiered power source.

Went up to Harold’s, the internet café, and said hello to James, the bartender, who was celebrating his birthday. I had met James, and just about everyone else in town the evening before. Everyone in the village knew about the wedding that weekend; the waitress at Borsolino, for example, was able to tell me, unsolicited, where the afterparty was taking place on Saturday night. Kate and Rob are pretty much celebrities here. My previous trip to Verbier was in the Spring (of 2000), when there are usually far more people about it. Being here in late summer/early fall, I was amongst the hardcore locals.

A knock on the door late that afternoon signaled the arrival of two of my college friends, neither of whom I’ve seen in 10 years. An hour later, we were sitting down to a very posh rehearsal dinner with even more friends, both old and new. And, as expected, we were in for a blast.

Lunch In Verbier

No further troubles along the route. Though my cell phone is still without service. It was just about 1:30 when I arrived in Verbier, a bit nervous as the bus kept twisting its way up the steep mountain to reach the town. Feeling refreshed and excited, I made my way to Pizzeria Borsolino. There were few other customers. In fact, I saw very people in the town. It is the low season.

Informed I could sit anywhere, I made my way to a table on the terrace, which I had entirely to myself. I sat there and peered out over the Alps, delighting in the magnificent mountain air. The menu was a bit intimidating, not because of any language barrier, because the prices here (everywhere) are tremendously expensive. Inspired by the vineyards I’d witnessed on the train, I ordered a half bottle of Chasselas, a local white varietal, to accompany a pizze marguerite and my carafe of flat water. That cost 46 CHF.

Without a sound around me, I settled in and absorbed The Diving Bell And The Butterfly, the memoir of Jean Dominque Bauby. His simple and profound persepective on life aided me in a round of positive thinking and embrace of the occasional magnificence of life. The difficult news and frustrations discovered before my flight were able to settle into a point of acceptance and determination to make everything alright.

About an hour later, I finished my book and the end of the wine, then set off for MyVerbier’s rental office. Picked up the keys and then went into Migros, the local grocery to pick up a cell phone. The first song on the intercom was “All The Lovers” by Kylie Minogue. Indeed, I had arrived in Europe.

Once I settled into the flat I realized that the internet was not functioning. I forced myself to take a shower and repaired back to the office to find a solution. No solution was discovered. Back in the flat, without any connection to the outside world and suddenly experiencing incredible sleep deprivation, I felt my world close. The good feeling of a few hours descended into extreme loneliness. I closed my eyes. Sleep was necessary.

Once up from my nap, felt it was time to shake up my surroundings and I headed back into the town, where it seemed nary another soul could be found. I sat in an internet café and tried to navigate the German directed keyboard, avoiding multiple Gs and Zs. Suddenly I heard the most hideous, loud, and obnoxious ring tone. That was my new mobile. Kate had found me.

Next thing I know, I was in TBar, greeted by her bright and happy face, exuding the radiance of someone who’d found the right mate as they embark upon matrimony.
There was an incredible group of new but familiar faces, and there was a constant joy and comfort in each conversation. Before long, we were up at the chalet, where I could catch up with Kate’s family. That loneliness I’d felt earlier was long gone. Here I was, being treated like a guest of honor, delighting in the beauty of friendship.

That transition is very important for me to realize. This summer has been difficult. Nothing in San Diego has gone the way I’d expected. Nevertheless, it has been an important lesson. A huge reason why I left was to build a foundation for myself, and that does not happen overnight. As each day has past, and particularly in the latter days of August and early September, my mood kept sinking. I felt quite a bit the way I did in the afternoon when I was (technologically) cut off from the world. Certainly you don’t find best friends overnight, but sooner or later, you start to make your way and find your place.

Train To Martigny

I don’t know if anyone else out there shares this affliction, but each time I travel, I worry that I’m travelling in the wrong vessel, about to be stranded in some alien and inescapable location. Leaving Dulles, I half-expected the pilot to announce a destination other than Geneva, leaving me trapped in a vicious vortex of self-criticism. I have a good sense of direction, and am also a very good traveler, yet this worry and doubt persists, relegating me to a routine of mental calisthenics to quell it. This happens even on my well-travelled routes. I can doubt myself on my way to Halibut Point in Rockport, MA, even though it is one of my favorite points on earth. I rarely get lost, and when I do I always navigate myself to my intended destination. Alas, it’s just part of a nervous disposition.

So here I am, traveling on the train out of Geneva, wondering if indeed I will soon arrive at Martigny, where I will then change trains. The system is well organized and easy enough to follow. I have a ticket that was verified by the attendant along with a clear itinerary provided by ticket vendor back at the station. And thus I realize, my nervousness is really masked excitement.

It is a beautiful day here in Switzerland. 19 degrees Celsius, which is somewhere in the low 60s F. It feels pretty fantastic to be in the sun. Ignorant to my surroundings, I sat on the West side of the train, and therefore distanced myself of the view of the Lake. Nevertheless, I have seen lush green countryside, the city of Montreaux, multiple vineyards, a highway filled with tiny little euro cars. All of this under a bright blue and cotton specked sky, where the elegant white clouds drape over the Alps like scarves. I can hear conversations and announcements in French, German, and English, and bear witness to smart European fashion. I can’t believe I am here. It’s been so long. I vow to comeback sooner, and drive my life in the direction that I want. I can make my dreams come true. It is up to me. I realize that I might be nervous on the way, but if I am committed, I will make it there.

And voila, nous arrivons a Martigny. What was I thinking?

Shots Around The Hotel and The Lake

Here are some photos of Geneva.

Back In San Diego

After a number of delays in Dulles, I am finally back in San Diego. I left the hotel in Geneva at 9pm Pacific Coast Time, and arrived about 25 hours later. One good thing about the delays, I caught up with my friends who were arriving from New York. We have another wedding this week. In fact, tomorrow night is scheduled for a bachelor party. This is an intense wedding season.

Not quite sure how I feel to be back here. I can certainly think of other places where my heart is. However, as you'll see in some of the forthcoming posts, this whole whirlwind should be providing me with greater drive, clarity, focus, and resolve. But at the moment I'm scattered, dizzy, and still waiting for my ears to pop. When I walked into my bare apartment, I saw a post it note on the table which I wrote a few hours before I left 11 days ago. It read, "Welcome Back to San Diego, your new home!" It struck me as odd. Let's see how I feel tomorrow.

I can say this. I feel great about where I've been. All the people I've met. All the friends I've reconnected with, all the sites I have seen. Being home beforehand enhanced the experience. Hopefully it won't be too long before I've got San Diego under my thumb.

Geneva At Night

Good morning from Geneva. Feeling much better after some sleep. Spent most of last evening simply walking around Geneva. Truly enjoyed being down by the Lake and hearing the multitude of languages. Some of the photos are on my phone, so more pictures will be posted once I'm back in the States.

Time for the marathon trip back to California, take two...

Everyone kept remarking how I'd gone such a long way for the wedding, but I was not alone, as we had representatives from Kenya, Latvia, Brazil, and so many more distant spots around the globe. There was no way I could have missed this wedding, and it was so wonderful to see my friend as an absolutely gorgeous and extremely happy bride.

Now for the journey back. It's going to be a long day.

Checkpoint

Sending out a lifeline after a very epic and wonderful weekend. At the moment it's a bit hard for me to even speak or type, as my body has no clue what time it is. I'm somewhat surprised to know where I am.

For the moment I am at a hotel in Geneva, desperately looking forward to sleep. I should be on a flight bound for San Diego, but after a schedule mishap this morning, I couldn't make my flight in time. Still not quite sure what happened but I must have had the wrong schedule for the train and ended up stranded. Quickly found a cheap hotel and rearranged my itinerary and then closed my eyes for a nap that was absolutely essential. It's been a weird few days in terms of sleep, and I'm sure the rest of the week will be a bit odd as well. Nevertheless, I have seen some truly incredible views and been surrounded by a magnificent group of people. There will be much more to tell once I get myself sorted. Until later...

Petit Dejeuner en Geneve

Bonjour! Greetings from Geneva airport. Arrived here about two hours ago, and am waiting for my train to Martigny, which will be followed by another train and a bus to Verbier, which is the Southern end of Switzerland, above Italy and France. Though Verbier is East of Geneva, the train will travel northeast, and then southeast, as Lake Geneva is standing in the way.

Dulles airport was a madhouse, but I had a bit of time to catch my flight before the the transatlantic flight. On the good side, I had nobody next to me on the flight over. On the bad side, at times there was so much turbulence I thought I was in a cargo plane headed into the Congo.

In any case, I've arrived safely. I finished up the Gene Simmons autobiography and watched three episodes of Party Down, which was a very welcome surprise for in-flight entertainment. I've managed well so far with my French, and it seems that each minute that goes by more is coming back to me, have to be appreciative of immersion. Of course, everyone here speaks English as well, so there's a safety net.

Updates will be forthcoming.

Flight Time

Waiting to depart for the first leg of the trip across the pond. It is now my wedding season, with the next two weekends featuring a back to back line-up of some truly wonderful people embarking on a life of matrimony. God bless them.

I should have some good pictures to share, and some fun stories to tell. As for the trip, we've got a flight to DC, quick layover before a flight to Geneva, then a big train followed by a little train, leading to a bus and a quick walk to a flat in Verbier, Switzerland. Next update will come from there, probably in 20 hours or so. Thanks for checking in.

Where The Heart Is

The past two and a half days did not fly by, they undulated with warmth and comfort. Incredible fresh food grown in the garden. Smiling faces of those I love and am so fortunate to have as my family. A clean, beautiful, comfortable home. Green grass and lush trees. Honest laughter and magnetic embraces. Being able to look everyone in the eye. Understanding all of my surroundings. Wrapped in the security blanket of home. A peace that has eluded me for years has washed over me. The uncertainty of the future is somehow less frightening. I'm a bit more prepared though I still have no idea what to expect. Sharing meals with my loved ones, spending a magical day at Singing Beach, waking up to love and support. It's been so good to be home. This feeling was not possible before I left. It is because I have marooned myself on another shore that I have finally clutched its elusive strings. This time is bittersweet, still uncertain and intimidating. With great challenges remaining in front of us, pain and fear remain constant, yet held at bay by the overriding strength of togetherness, through heart and soul. We shall not be overcome. We are all going to make it through.

Short Time Before A Nap

I've made a number of cross country, early morning flights back to the East Coast. Today's circumstance is decidedly different than the previous one. Previously, I always stayed up until flight time in order to ensure certain sleep for the flight's duration. One time, I drove into LAX, popped a couple Benadryl, closed my eyes on take off and woke up to the captain telling us we were beginning our descent into Boston. That was a good flight. One of the few where I didn't experience extreme pain in my ears upon descent. Plus, it was a business trip. That morning was the 4th of July and, thanks to the commuter rail, I was up in Andover with my family under brilliant sunshine by 1 o'clock that afternoon.

I'm flying back almost six years to the day after my first return flight from California. I was surprised to be so happy to return to Boston on that day. The best time of year in that city. The municipal annual apex, leaves turning, students returning, streets full of life and energy. Hard to believe that this time I am where I am. I don't know what to expect. I'm certainly disappointed that my expectations of this day have not come to pass. Guess that's irrelevant. I'm so happy to see my parents and friends. Hard to believe I have such a bounty of love, support, and experience before me. It's about time I started to approach life with a "you only go around once" attitude.

Now, time for a nap.

Fallen Not Broken

Good tune by The Wolfgang Press. Hadn't heard it for a bit but my iPod decided it was time.

Russian Gym

This afternoon in search of detoxification, renewal, and relaxation, I decided to go to the Russian banya here in San Diego. Russian banya is a fantastic experience that I highly recommend anyone try at least once, but don't do it here in SD. This place was a total dump, and did not offer anything close to a banya experience.

Rather than a banya, it is actually a kettle club, or workout gym that highlights kettle dumbbell exercises. Additionally, they offer swimming classes. The gym has quite a bit of space, a pool, jacuzzi, and gym downstairs. Two weight rooms/auditoriums upstairs. And a magnificent outdoor pool overlooking Mission Bay, Mission Beach, PB, and the Pacific Ocean. Gorgeous view, unfortunately that pool is only half full and out of order. However you can also lift weights outside.

Where is the banya?, you may ask. Well, it doesn't exist. There is a sauna and a steam room in the men's locker room. I presume that there is one in the women's locker room as well. Of course I did not see a single woman, other than the proprietor (a surprisingly friendly Russian), in this place. No surprise there. I was tipped off to the possibility of false advertising when I mentioned vinnic (the branches used to detoxify the body) at the front desk and I got a blank stare. That wasn't because I didn't know what I was talking about, it was because she was surprised that I did know.

Alas, I figured I could use some of the weights and get in a workout. I chose the downstairs weight room, and sifted through weights that were literally covered in centimeters of dust. Multiple shots of Russian weight lifters on the wall. And then a full array of magazines (mostly from the earlier part of the decade) in the corner, including Maxim, Muscle & Fitness, some Russian exercise magazines, Playboy, Gallery, and Club International. You read that right. This went way farther than the Penthouse selection in Tim Watley's waiting room.

Once I finished up in the weight room, I went back to my original purpose, getting some heat. The dry sauna was not very hot, and had no water to pour over the coals. As I sat inside, I looked into the locker room and watched an older man unload a spray canister into the sink. I wondered if he was a janitor of some kind, then realized, this place obviously does not employ a janitor.

Disappointed by the sauna, I went to the steam room, which greeted me with the putrid pungence of mold. I couldn't actually see any mold because the steam was so thick I could barely see six inches in front of my face. Unlike the sauna, the steam room was stifling. I hung in there for three sittings, alternating between there and a cold shower. Having had enough, I went back to the locker room and to wash my hands. I looked into the sink that presumably had been cleaned and discovered an positively enormous cockroach struggling to maintain life after being doused with what was either rust cleaner or metallic spray paint. Fortunately, there was another sink.

Relieved to get outside, I saw a deli next door. I really wanted a prosciutto and basil sandwich, but I've not been able to find a place in San Diego that offers that. Instead I chose a chicken pesto sandwich for takeout. I got home and began to eat, then discovered the mayonnaise on the sandwich. Once again, they put mayonnaise on everything out here, it's worse than Europe. What kind of asshole mixes mayonnaise with pesto? Oh well, what can you do. Time for a vigorous shower.

Home Gym

The pull-up bar is installed. This is pretty much the extent of my handiness.

The bar cost the same amount as a one week trial at a yoga studio.

Let's Go Friars!....agh, whatever, brah

Interesting article to share on the state of the Padres. Yes, they just had a 10 game losing streak, but it's sad that one of this year's best teams is playing to a half empty stadium every night. This article also provides a bit of insight on the overall mood of San Diego. High unemployment, so much to do outside, and a general, 'whatever, brah' type of attitude.

On a personal note, thank you to The T Man for scoring us tickets to tonight's opener against San Francisco. Petco is one of the nicest baseball stadiums you'll ever visit. Should be a fun night.

http://www.signonsandiego.com/news/2010/sep/08/turnstiles-show-padres-fans-seem-immune-pennant-fe/

p.s. hey, Red Sox, Cubs, Yankees, and Giants fans, how does it feel to read the phrase, "with tickets costing up to $61..parking for $10?"

09.08.10

I did not start my new perspective journal today. However, I must report that the guy I met last night who said he would check to see if his friend any connections for me actually DID check to see if his friend had any connections and got back to me today. First time ever out here. Of course his friend's connections are all in Austin, TX, but it's a start. Finally, a man of his word.

The sun did not come out here until 2pm today. It almost looked like it wasn't going to come out at all. We had a few nice weeks in August, but otherwise there has been no summer. Tomorrow it is supposed to be 15 degrees below average in most areas.

Tomorrow is my last day of a yoga seven day trial. I've been 5 out of the 6 days and I like this place a lot. Great instructors, good vibe with the crowd. I can't wait until I can actually afford a package of classes.

After yoga I was back here, quite comfortable in my chair with my computer either on the table or my lap, as I pressed through various applications, resume send outs, and want ads. When I started I was making breakfast, a few hours later, I was making lunch, still doing the same thing. By 3:30 I'd had enough. I took a walk along the Bay, it was the first time I've been down there and didn't see any sunbathers. Of course, not much point when it's 65 degrees with no sun.

Went out to Hillcrest for the evening and watched part two of Mesrine. Excellent. The first part is more absorbing, but what a performance by Cassel. Part Two also features Mathieu Amalric (The Diving Bell And The Butterfly), Samuel Le Bihan (Brotherhood of the Wolf), and the babealicious Ludivine Sagnier (Swimming Pool). Great time at the movies. There was a trio of French people waiting for the second show and I was excited them speak the language. On the way home, I threw in the Pimsleur cassette tapes to practice a bit myself.

Wanted to elaborate on my awareness of this transition. I realize it takes awhile. And, overall, I think I am a very patient person, but I get easily upset when I'm on my own. For whatever reason, I tend to be a loner, too, so I guess I like to castigate myself. When I was in Spain, it took about 8 weeks before I felt comfortable. Much of that had to do with my living situation and the language barrier. I remember getting so tired of speaking in another language for an entire day. At first I could take for a couple hours, a few weeks later I built up to 6 hours, then eight, and within three months I was the one who insisted on speaking Spanish even when I was with American friends. Here, there's no language barrier. There is a bit of a culture barrier. But what really makes the difference is not having a context. In Spain I had school, people on my program. Plus I was a kid. I'm not old, but I'm not a kid anymore, and without a job I have no context. Just me and my room, which in this case is an apartment. Boston people are everywhere out here, and they're generally disliked by the majority of people. I understand their disdain, and if you've ever been to a Red Sox or Patriots road game, you understand, too. I know I brought this all on myself. I'm not trying to lament my situation or act like I have some plight. It's just frustration, and with no one to talk to or bring me out of it, this is one of the best outlets I have. When I'm out around here, I'm usually trying to hide my loneliness and confusion. Not sure I do a very good job of it, but that's the role I've chosen. At some point or another, I'll have a better part to play.

On to tomorrow.

Slogging Through, but with some nice surprises

Ugh, another day of getting nowhere it seems. I should clarify from my previous posts, my friends did say I was a bit ahead of the curve for my transition, but they also said the transition takes a year or more. That may be, but it better improve along the way.

Today was very productive for me but equally disheartening. It's clear that I have no place here and spend most of my time being ignored by both professional and personal contacts. People out here sign right up to take your number or give you theirs and then disappear, never to be heard from again. I prefer the East Coast method of only releasing that info when you want to, and then following through once you do.

As I sat through another day of the cold shoulder, I kept myself busy with laundry, cleaning, organizing my things, cooking, searching for jobs, etc. To no avail it seems, but it's not like I can give up on those activities, despite being in oblivion. I'm having a hard time reconciling my patience and view of the long haul with the overwhelming frustration of getting dicked around and ignored. I had an idea to start a specific daily/weekly journal to take stock of the little things that are happening, most of which are highlighted on this page. I need to find some better methods to keep me afloat.

Anyway, as my phone remained silent all day, I went off to the movies to find solace. Yesterday I missed a turn and discovered The Ken, which is the last single screen theatre in San Diego. Built in 1946, the second theatre purchased by what is now the Landmark chain, I was thrilled to see the classic marquee in the distance. Better yet, they were showing Centurion, which I've been looking forward to seeing.

I brought along my camera knowing I'd be there near magic hour. The area near the theatre has a couple of nice restaurants and cafes. The Ken also has an accompanying video store specializing in foreign and obscure films, along with a cocktail lounge. I look forward to future visits.

My mood upon arrival could best be described as seething, though I was happy to experience a new theatre. No classical adornments within, it's not a majestic old movie house. But they do things the right way, the focus is on the film that's showing. I love how they put the movie's tagline up on the marquee.

It took awhile for the film to wrest me out of my roiling consternation, but there's no doubt that this is a film worth seeing. Fast paced, absorbing, all shot on (beautiful) location. The movie injects a very even tempered view of history so you have no overriding loyalty to either side. In that way, it was a bit like the terrific Flesh & Blood, with more Apocalypto and The Road Warrior thrown in. Good movie. I walked out feeling much better than I did when I went in.

Next stop, Walmart. And it was packed at 9:30 on Tuesday night. I picked up some hangers and paper towels, couldn't find a plunger (good thing I don't need it at the moment), but as Meatloaf sang, two out of three ain't bad.

Wasn't quite ready to wind down another day in isolation, so I went down towards Garnet, though I didn't really want to drink or spend any money, but I didn't want to go home, either. I parked on the quieter end of the street, and found myself staring up at a place I had no idea existed, La Costa Brava. I didn't go in at first, the place was well obscured by high, thick hedges, and I got the idea it was more a restaurant than a bar and figured they were about to close. I walked up a few blocks but felt no inclination to go further. I went back and stopped into La Costa Brava.

Lo and behold, a true Spanish restaurant. There were only a few other people there, but right away I found myself in discussion with the bartender, Ruben, who is a madrileno. The restaurant has an array of Spanish bottled beers, from Catalonia, Gallicia, etc, but they do not have the most popular Spanish beer, Mahou. The bartender opened up to me when I asked for it, it's his favorite beer, and right away we were speaking Spanish and talking about Madrid. Turns out he used to work at the Institute where I studied. Plus, hearing the madrileno accent was so comforting, and I instantly tapped into the vein that's been too long dormant, from what was really the happiest time in my life (I really hope that soon changes to, 'one of the best times of my life'). And how about this, on Tuesday nights there's a discussion group that meets to hang out and speak Spanish. I met a few of the people and am invited to go back. I wish they were meeting tomorrow. It was so nice to find a connection to something so dear in this obscure place. We were able to talk about different cities with a mutual understanding, something that has been few and far between out here. I also met another guy, who was not in the Spanish group, but who was very nice and offered to hang out and see if he has any connections to help my job search. Here we go again. It felt nice at the time, and the guy seems genuine, but I'm learning that soon I will be able to have a better read on what is real and what is not, which I know will serve me well in the next phase of my life.

In any case, it felt nice to end a shitty day on a positive note. And it was worth the five bucks for the beer. Let's see what tomorrow has in store.