concerts everywhere
I think I might be getting nostalgic about graduating. Which is really weird, considering I don't really like Stanford that much. But it smells like last spring, which has very powerful memories, and I'm moving on.
Last night
CCRMA put a concert on of student "instruments", in the
PRL. I loved it - it was another one of those I can't keep from smiling all the time moments that I've been having. I almost feel like I must be in love or something, but I assure you, I'm single. There's no love. The CCRMA concert was interesting also because a) I almost took that class last quarter, and given the class I chose over it, I should definitely have taken the CCRMA class. Also, I feel like the CCRMA path is one that I must have taken in an alternative universe. I could easily have ended up doing that stuff for a living. I'm not there at all anymore, but it's weird to look at a life and know it might have been yours. I took pictures, but they all sucked, sorry.
I've been doing the show thing. Saturday night I went to see
Stars play at Bimbo's. Since Stars has been one of my favorites throughout grad school, I had to go. They were good. Torque was different than I expected. Because SF is so small, of course I ran into people - random ones, at that. Feist opened, and wow, that woman can sing.
Sunday was another trip to SF for another show. First dinner with Sarah, my freshman year roommate, and then over to the Make Out Room to see her boyfriend's band, the Lonelyhearts, play. The headliner for the show was some band called Safari from Seattle. They were sooo good. Wow. Oh, and tons of random Yalies ended up at the show, including Lizzie and Sam out on spring break from Harvard.
While I'm at it, I finally got around to purchasing
Sad songs for dirty lovers. Great title. I went to college with Bryce, the lead guitarist in
the National, and I used to go see them whenever they played in NYC, but I haven't been able to make any of shows out here. Sad songs for dirty lovers is really good, especially "Lucky You." It may be that I've been listening to that song too much, and that's why I'm feeling nostalgic. It's a lighter song, which is a coin I just termed, but I'm sure existed already. You know, if you went to see them play in a stadium, everyone would wave their lighters in the air when they played this song.
australia, part 2
It must be something about the non-foreign-ness of Australia, but I couldn't get that excited about keeping up to date.
I did manage some pictures:
Phil, proud groom, with a fantastic tie.
They got married!
PK with daughter Olivia. My how she grows.
Best man Michael
Michael, again, posing like he's Tarzan. But that would be his cat.
School girls crossing the street. The hats. Wow.
More on the trip: The diving was shortened due to a cyclone, but Michael and I managed 2 dives. And that night I found an out of control cocktail to consume, which I'd been craving. Nothing says tropical beach holiday like a ridiculously colored frozen drink:
The highlight of the trip may have been that night, kicking back with a few beers poolside at our hotel. Beautiful night, good company, good times. Michael also managed to lose his sunglasses the day after the wedding, which meant that everytime we passed a luxury store, we went in search of a replacement. Wow, picky. And I'd never been in a Gucci store, or many of the other brands we explored. Brendan found the perfect pair:
Elsewhere in the trip - Mackay is an extraordinarily boring and depressing city. I think they meant for it to become big and glorious, but the wide boulevards and boarded up storefronts were a serious downer. I did make a trip to the local rainforest/national park, Eungulla, and saw platypus-es (what would be the plural?) in the wild.
What
wasn't the highlight of the trip was my surfing lesson at Manly Beach when I returned to Sydney. I consider myself to be a strong swimmer. Not super fast, but I can hold my own. I even took "Advanced Swimming" this past quarter - I must be Advanced! But I drifted out of the rip on my first attempt to get out, and took a serious beating. The board hit me in the head four times, and elsewhere along my body. Big bruises. Much hurt. Water logged. I was crying by the time I got out of the water, 20 minutes later. Somehow I managed to work up the nerve to get out there again, and successfully stood up twice, but I don't think surfing will ever be my sport. I am glad that the man o' war which fill the shores didn't get me.
Finally, part of a sign at a swimming hole Michael and I found:
australia - it's almost like america
Saturday:
I survived the 14 hour flight. Friday March 5th did not exist for me. I got in, checked into my hostel, showered, and walked over to the marina and went sailing. It was the Aussies against the Americans, and I'm proud to say the Americans won one race. Of three. Which means that we lost, really. But it was a fantastic time. Ntina and I were in the aft crew, which doesn't really exist, but did mean that we ran back and forth as ballast. Oh, and Ntina flirted with the men on the other boats around us. And they flirted back.
Sunday:
I walked over the Harbor bridge to the Rocks, and immediately ran into Brendan and Liz. I think Sydney must be very small. Liz and I walked around to the opera house, wandered inside to a free exhibit on design, and then hung out on her fancy roof deck pool for a bit.
The wedding at night was beautiful. Jeni looked absolutely incredible. Food, drink, dancing, fun.
Monday:
I went swimming in the olympic pool at the base of the harbor bridge. I was really excited for it until I jumped in and it was SALT WATER. I didn't go swimming again this morning.
We then went to Watsons Point and gorged ourselves on amazing seafood. The grilled octopus is my favorite. Kat, Michael, and I ended up at a ritsy Thai restaurant in Surrey Hills for cocktails and food. Yum yum.
Tuesday:
It's been a lazy morning, and Kat, Michael, and I (and perhaps others) are going to Manly Beach this afternoon.
The overall impression is: Australia seems pretty much the same as home. More expensive, but weather like Cali. The people are also rather beautiful. But all my friends are here, and it doesn't seem as strange as it should.
Tomorrow Michael and I fly to the great barrier reef for some diving.
my ridiculously great life
This morning, I had some errands to run, and I was driving around in my little convertible. Beautiful day, california goodness. Life is good.
The news is that I'm leaving for Australia tonight. It didn't really hit me that I was leaving until Brendan sms-ed me from SFO last night, on his way. Jeni and
Phil are getting married on Sunday, in Sydney. And then
Michael and Kat and I will be hanging out in Sydney, with others I am sure, until I fly to the Great Barrier Reef to go on a scuba extravaganza. At least, I hope I go on a scuba extravaganza. I
got certified this summer, and love love love diving. Michael may be joining me. We haven't worked it out yet.
So, I finished up the quarter very early, and am flying away, and then I'll come back for a couple of days and then I go to mexico on a family vacation. My life, so hard. My life, so good.
I'll update in Australia.
stop signs
Stanford campus = stop signs. This isn't news, but I decided to start counting. There are 11 stop signs between my house and the loft, a distance that is just over a mile. And then from the loft to get off campus to downtown Palo Alto, 10 stop signs. 10 stop signs to get to the south exit of campus, too. There is this one stop sign collection where really, it's practically not worth it for me to shift into second gear between one sign and the next.
The problem with the proliferation of stop signs on campus is that, back when I had to drive to school every day because I hadn't gotten a new bike, I started treating all traffic signs as stop signs. Like, traffic lights. Stopping at green lights isn't so so bad - not terribly safe, but not the end of the world. However, I knew it was bad when I stopped at a red light, and proceeded to pull out into the intersection. There were no cars coming, but, I believe that was illegal. Colter may never ride in my car again.
I hate them. Yet another reason to grow up and move to a place where I don't need a car again.
