27-ish Calvert "Memphis"

The owners of this house are moving to Memphis and are seriously, the cutest, best-looking, nicest couple I have ever met. I can't get over how chill and sweet they are. Anyway, they want to rent their place for 1700 and here are the pictures:

Boy, they suck you dry in public health don't they?

So I'm on the phone with a real estate agent a friend used to buy her house, a woman up in the really-huge-house area of town who I've been assured is 'nice despite the inch-thick foundation and raccoon mascara'. She asks my salary and I tell her and this is her response: "Boy they really suck you dry in public health don't they? I mean you got starving artists, starving musicians, and starving malaria people!"

I've been recommended for a promotion but still have no hope of buying a cute place in a nice neighborhood until I attach myself to another wage earner. Stupid housing bubble.

Better to go in early

I was biking in to work around 12:45 yesterday after my dentist appointment (only a crown! my teeth are safe for the moment!) and as I approached the big police building on Guilford and North Ave, I saw yellow police tape and news crews and few cruisers. I ride up to investigate and the captain is about to make a statement for the tv news guys. "Two victims, both male, both in critical condition with gunshot wounds."

Here is the story in the Baltimore Sun.

Please note the paragraph where the police have time machines:

Police officials have said that the neighborhood has seen a surge in violence connected to gang activity. Arrests had been made in at least two of the slayings before yesterday's incident.

It's written by our favorite investigative crime guy, Gus Sentementes. Go Gus!

Yes, Mom and Dad, I am careful. This is why I don't ride at night.

Office Morale

Is a tad low lately. Times are hard. But Julia sent me a cool link that, if I had 10 extra hours, I could totally do to lift everyone's spirits, at least for 30 seconds. Here is the how-to.

Lauren rules

Perspective is great. I feel much better now.

It's still McDonalds

I only eat at Chipotle often enough to forget that it makes me sick EVERY TIME. Not an hour later but the stomach is burbling and the magical organic spices they use are tearing up the old digestive track like a bunch of drunk NASCAR drivers. It doesn't even taste that good and when I ask for 2 steak and one veggie taco they always end up putting rice and beans on all the tacos. Why do I bother? It's a question I've been asking myself a lot lately and finally I am not bothering anymore. No more lame-ass charmers who actively ignored my birthday, no more mass-produced organic mexican food, no more stopping at red lights, no more waiting around for stuff to happen.

I can feel myself slipping into the downward spiral of the aggressively-single lifestyle, where I just hate everything and everyone, and end up alone on saturday nights trying to convince myself that Meercat Manor is as cool a show as Planet Earth, which at least I can talk excitedly about with friends who then think I'm learn-ed and into animal sociology.

I'm neither stupid nor ugly and yet today at Fort McHenry, catching up on New Yorkers and sunshine, I saw plenty of people who are both happily yammering away at significant others, with whom they would later go home and cook dinner and watch Meercat Manor or any of a number of super-lame tv shows. How do they find each other? Did I seriously miss out on key formative years of boyfriends by jaunting off into the jungle for four years? What the hell was I doing in college pining after boys with hometown honeys?

A friend of mine is probably getting married to the guy she started dating right around the time I started dating the A-hole. That was fun to learn the other night. Shit. What a waste of time, dating a guy who doesn't give a shit.

Stop the hating. Go to the party even if your friends ditch you. Ride your bike, talk to people, get out of the house. Nothing happens at home. Go to those stupid art gallery deals and have a free glass of wine. Start going to game night - no, definitely, definitely, do NOT go to game night. Hit the other climbing gyms and go back to the bike coop. Good job me for going to the alleycat and talking to three people. They're all crazy poor bike messengers, but still.

Hm. Maybe those RPCV gatherings aren't such a bad idea. At least there I won't find a lot of guys who are put off by girls who kill snakes with machetes and can fix their own bikes. Yeah, I'll have to sift through the crazies as always, but at least they'll have more than zero interest in Africa.

TMobile Fraud

Just found $200 bucks of fake charges on my Tmobile bill for May. Some number in California, Santa Barbara - googling reveals that these may be 'charges' for calls forwarded to voice mail, which is actually a service included in my plan. Not to mention no one calls me every minute between 7:21 and 7:26am. Except telemarketers maybe. This is really disturbing and confusing and adds to my totally awful day! Lovely.

T-mobile customers, check your statements - in the US the fake charges are at 99 cents.

Date Destination Time Number Minutes Total

Kenya (Safaricom)
5/15/07 California 9:45 PM 805-637-7249 4 19.96
5/15/07 California 10:00 PM 805-637-7249 2 9.98
5/15/07 California 10:01 PM 805-637-7249 2 9.98
5/15/07 California 10:04 PM 805-637-7249 2 9.98
5/16/07 California 7:21 AM 805-637-7249 1 4.99
5/16/07 California 7:22 AM 805-637-7249 2 9.98
5/16/07 California 7:23 AM 805-637-7249 1 4.99
5/16/07 California 7:24 AM 805-637-7249 1 4.99
5/16/07 California 7:25 AM 805-637-7249 1 4.99
5/16/07 California 7:26 AM 805-637-7249 1 4.99
5/16/07 California 8:24 AM 805-637-7249 2 9.98
5/16/07 California 8:25 AM 805-637-7249 3 14.97
Sub Total 43 214.57
TOTAL 56 227.44

Dentists suck

My dentist found cavities with a laser (not his eyes) and drilled on my teeth, and now he says one is fractured and probably needs either a root canal, or extraction.

Extraction. Like they will take out my tooth.

And have to put in a new tooth.

And how much is this going to cost? No one can tell me.

So much for a new laptop.

Greens

I ordered a salad last night. Good for me. This morning, because I have a haircut after work, I drove. Immediately I was struck down with a lightning bolt in the form of road closures downtown and spent 30 minutes stuck at the end of the freeway. Serves me right for not riding my bike.

And now I can Trackstand. So there's that.

I took the morning off for mental health and went up and down 30th street, where there are few cars, teaching myself to trackstand. This served a triple purpose of 1) making me look like a badass 2) taking my mind off some crap and 3) improving valuable fixed gear biking skills.

I love multitasking. Also, I am way cuter than this guy, even if I can't yet trackstand with just one foot.

Check out these lugs

Lots of good shit on the old ebay today.

Coolest color scheme ever?

Today is a slow work day

Mostly because yesterday was really productive. But check this out: December 1949, Von Bueren's cycle desintegrates as he wins the Swiss Championship in Zurich. Siegenthaler finishes second, but intact.

Victoria! Put that away!

In the DR:

And in PR:


Also - in the DR:

And in PR!:

Stupid Mac

I'm trying to upload some great pics from past trips, but a) my current laptop is a dinosaur b) Safari's picture uploading doesn't work so I have to use Firefox which takes FOREVER, literally, which is why I'm not posting. This forces me to blog from work tomorrow and inches me closer towards caving and buying a new laptop before OS Leopard comes out in October.

But I won't because practicality wins out so seldom and this is a big enough purchase that I actually will listen to that voice of reason that says 'don't spend an extra 500 bucks on a computer you don't need before the $130 OS upgrade even comes out'.

Anyway - look forward to the posting tomorrow, especially you Victoria.

weekend update

I've spent 6 of the last 7 days in DC and boy it is nice to be back in Charm City. Last week I had a meeting with three presentations for a lot of really smart M&E folks and I did ok - met a couple awesome climbers at the meeting which is definitely a plus! Our database project is moving along and there was much less politicking about it than before, so now we just have to get our butts in gear and build this thing over the summer.

We had a very nice BBQ at Jason's temporary pad (an extremely beautiful house - functional, spacious, fantastic kitchen, yet laid back in a way only 2 million dollar homes can have) and bored the non-Gabon RPCV guests with more of our stories. Oh, la nostalgie. Sunday we went for brunch at an Irish place that had too many spoiled children and slow service, but excellent food. JCo dissed the bloody marys and nearly sent a 4 year old flying over the veranda, but the conversation was lively and we even managed to escape the rain...

I've ordered a new stem and bars for my fixie to make it a little more comfortable - the reach is a bit short but maybe that's just because I've been riding the Nishiki lately. Sean seems to think the teal color scheme is uncool but he's wrong. It is the pinnacle of cool.

I almost, almost, finished this really hard climb I've been working on for a long time last night. Which is not bad for having two weeks off. Coming up - trips to W. Va and more biking.

Spontaneous Combustion

Here's the tree that burst into flames on our recent climbing trip.

It's my Birthday

It's my birthday, yay. I tried to do lots of fun things this weekend like biking 30 miles on my fixie in Eastern Maryland with friends, putting snazzy new red tires on, and my first lead climbing and rappelling on Monday. Also a tree burst into a huge pulsating lightning-style fire while we were climbing, caused by a splice in a power line. Bryan got a picture and I'll post when I get it.

Today's really busy at work (annual report shitshitshit) but tonight, more climbing and burgers at Dizzys.

Long lost bike

I'm bumming around the internet, trying to figure out why my Nishiki has no rack braze ons (just spent 30 bills on a rack and some dinky panniers, but they won't attack to either of my bikes), and I found the Nishiki!

She is from the 80s, which is earlier than I had pegged the teal color scheme. Her new wheels arrive wednesday, and then it will be Showtime! Today I even bought a 4 foot cable so that I'll never leave my wheels unlocked again.

No, really, Mt. Blanc

On Saturday I went out with Bonnie, our new teammate, Valentina from WHO and Mark from Global Fund. Mark paraglides off his mountain every day after work. It was free winetasting day in Geneva so we hit three vineyards, one of which also made absinthe. When we walked in the absinthe-maker was playing a waltz on this horn.


We had lunch and some excellent gelato in a lake town, Annecy, in France, then headed for Chamonix to see Mount Blanc. My mother doesn't believe the mountain really exists because she's never seen it and I'm sure these pictures won't convince her either.

Can you see the badass climber in the rocks in the foreground?


Betcher wondering how the heck we got all the way up there anyhow.


It was a totally awesome day and then Mark made me buy two quickdraws at the gear shop, as souvenirs. I was being practical and didn't want to pay in euros what I could get them for in dollars back home with my REI discount, but he was very convincing, I guess that's how he managed to distribute like 30 million mosquito nets in one year.

Mt. Blanc

Geneva was much better this time than before, in January, when it was cold and I didn't even get to see the lake. At a cocktail party I got a net company to get involved in Salif Keita's tour (ok, I had some help from the Handsomest RBM Board Member) and then our database project rocked out on day two of the board meeting. Before it all started I adjusted my internal clock by walking around looking for fixies and checking out bike parking.



I only found one fixie. It belonged to a giant.


The giant had a giant friend too.


There were about 9 million bikes in Geneva, ridden by young punks and guys in suits and moms whose husbands have UN jobs which means they're not allowed to work and can only produce babies to stave off the boredom. It was sunny and beautiful and people played chess in the park:

I spent 80 bucks NOT to see this

Arcade Fire showed up at the Beirut concert I missed Sunday. Expletives escape me.

http://www.brooklynvegan.com/archives/2007/05/video_arcade_fi.html

http://www.brooklynvegan.com/archives/2007/05/video_arcade_f.html

How to Throw $300 down the Toilet

1. Open toilet
2. Open wallet
3. Throw 2 > 1
4. Flush.

Or, if you're feeling creative:

1. Buy bus tickets and concert tickets that are non-refundable and then cancel your trip PLUS
2. Park car on wrong side of street and forget until your car alarm goes off as it is being towed away. Don't forget to leave your ATM card in the ATM machine when you take out money to liberate car from impound lot.

So easy, even a monkey could do it.

Cats Jesus

I don't know why cats are funny, but this is causing audible laughter.

p.s. Props to my pediatrician friend who is scoring me some antibiotics for my sinus infection, now spreading to my eye socket. In tree weeks babee, I knock de teef outta dis infection.

Pooperama

Hey! So things have been really shitty lately. To top it all off I finally went to the dentist after 3 years, or more like 6 really since I don't count the Malian dentist who checked my teeth in Bamako when I left the Peace Corps. Everything looked pretty good until they got the LASER out. Apparently it measures the density of your tooth to find hidden cavities. Cool! Normal range is like 1-10, over 25 is a cavity, and it goes up to 100 (totally rotting, shell of the tooth's former self, fasttrack to dentures). It makes a little noise in your mouth like a tiny buzzsaw. So Vicky, the totally nice hygienist who looks like Lily Tomlin and told me all about her overbearing mother who never let her travel and made her get married, "not that THAT worked out", runs the LASER around my mouth. Wrrrrrr. So far so good. WrrrrEeeeer. Oops. Small cavity. WrrrrrrrrrrrrrEeerr. Another small cavity. Jeepers. WrrrrrrEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEr. 87! Holy crap! There is DECAY IN MY MOUTH. Fucking hell.

Mind you, I have never ever had a cavity before.

Also over the weekend my window was leaking rain onto my head through infintessimate gaps in the woodwork, which may have contributed to the massive sickness that was my weekend and my monday. Monday was a full-on sickday spent lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, making toast with moldy bread because that's what we had, watching 7 hour-long episodes of Friday Night Lights, a TV show about Texas high school football shot with a gritty handheld realism. It's not as good as West Wing but it is damn good. The pilot episode made me cry. Of course, just about everything makes me cry right now (the end of Bobby, on the plane), which just makes me feel bad because I'm being a Debbie Downer for all my friends and family. Vicious cycle, yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, this morning I was actually happy as I woke up, but I think it was just because I had been able to breathe through my nose the entire night, and so my mouth wasn't filled with awful dried saliva and nastiness. Probably just because all that has now settled into my lungs, super!

Edith and I are trying to buy a house. This is awesome. Plus she got into Hopkins Med School because like duh! she kicks ass. We drove around looking at neighborhoods on Sunday, in the rain, near both UMD and JHU, lots of cheap stuff in the ghetto near boarded up blocks, but a lot of cool cute places to be had in the nicer areas. Very exciting. If only I had time at work to look for houses, because my stupid Mac is about to get a thrashing for being so goddamn slow. I know it's 4 years old, which makes it the Methusalah of Macs, but that doesn't make it any easier when the spinning color wheel of frustration comes up everytime I ask it to switch programs or google something.

But hey. We all got problems.

Light Speed in Mali

I got to Mali Monday night. Tuesday afternoon there was a meeting to talk about activities for Malaria Month, which is April. One of the participants was Fanta Coulibaly, an actress in a Malian soap-opera called "D'ou la Famille". We thought hey, maybe we can get malaria messages into the soap, wouldn't that be cool? So we called up the director/writer and he came right over. Thought it was a great idea, except for one thing: filming had finished a year ago! But maybe we could film some skits to air right before the series?

Super, no problem. We agreed on a price and he went home while Djiba and Kouressy went over to the TV station to negotiate broadcast fees. Sidibe (the director) came back the next day for his malaria messages - 4 in total, one for each sketch, to air weekly during April. The first one had to air the following friday. It was Thursday.

Over the weekend Sidibe wrote 4 scripts, presented them to us on Monday, filmed the whole thing (12 minutes total) on Tuesday, edited on Wednesday, screened them for us Thursday, and we aired on Friday, as hoped for. I think we set a world record for fastest production - from concept to airdate - in Africa. When else do you go on a 10-day trip and get to see the beginning AND end of your work?

Plus, the sketches are really funny. L'Hadji, the father, is so incensed by malaria that he comes out of the house with his large-caliber rifle, wanting to shoot all the mosquitos. Sidibe is the Man.

Dance Dance Revolution

I only have fun dancing in Africa, specifically in Bamako. We had drinks on Claudia's roof last night then went out to the Monte Cristo nightclub, which is newly renovated (and next door to PSI's original offices). The Congolese music and the salsa had been playing at Claudia's and continued at the club. I LOVE Congolese music. It reminds me of selling condoms in Ndende and having a good time with my buddies around a table full of empty Regab bottles. Areana and I danced until 3:30 in the morning. That never happens in the States. I don't know why. Ok – so I will admit that here I tend to consume more alcohol since I am never driving home. But that’s not the whole story.

This makes me wonder about that split personality - Bamako/Gabon H vs US H. Here I will go up to random strangers and quiz them about their jobs to see if they're Russian mafia (they were Air France execs). I know it has something to do with my increased sense of my own (comparative) attractiveness here, and my hankering for spy-type activities (and ability to carry them out). My social confidence is greater here than in the States. And because of my Peace Corps experience and Bambara ability I feel I understand my surroundings much better than I often do in the US, where I'm thrust into work situations that fancier than I am used to on an almost daily basis. Here I have things to show and teach people - at home I am still learning. Here I'm a point person and in Baltimore and DC I'm the one asking for directions and advice.

So - the goal: being more like Bamako H in the US (without the hangovers, hopefully).

When I was at PSI I was responsible, among other things, for handling the details of a relationship between PSI and the cellphone company Ikatel, who broadcast our SMS messages on malaria and HIV; making a quarterly newsletter and other layout/design duties; and helping to organize a big concert with many Malian artists, along with a dinner/gala at Oumou Sangare’s hotel to kick that off.

Now my TDY (temporary duty) job is to help organize a concert with multiple Malian artists, perhaps large, perhaps at Oumou’s hotel with VIPs, write and design a ‘plaquette’ or malaria fact sheet/folder, and perhaps work with the new Ikatel, Orange, to send out SMS for Africa Malaria Day.

I’ve called up my old buddies, Oumou’s husband, our Burkinabais production and sound system guy, Habib’s little brother the sound guy, and we’re underway in the planning. My goal is to introduce the team to these folks and they can take it from there. Already we’ve laid out the messages for 4 3-minute sketches to be written and approved on Monday, filmed Tuesday and Wednesday, edited and in the can on Thursday, and broadcast on Friday just before Mali’s most popular soap opera, D’où la famille. Nevermind that this is BCC (behavior change communication) and not advocacy (shh, don’t tell our donor!).

As promised, Areana and I met Julia at the Bla Bla, which is now enclosed in glass and brick and is air conditioned, and has all the charm and atmosphere of a crappy café. The pork chops were still excellent, however. Thursday we hit Sukothai with British engineers and a Dutch guy straight out of the book I’m reading, “Confessions of an Economic Hit Man.” They’re doing the design for the Millenium Challenge Corp’s irrigation and road-building project up north of Niono, all the way to Timbuktu. But maybe there’s no water to do this – it’s unclear. The food was excellent and we spoke with the Belgian owner, whose Thai wife runs the kitchen. They’re retired (he’s an ex-consultant).

Today we went shopping, and of course of the four places we went, one was closed until October, and the rest I have to find time to go back to before I leave, to pick up things. Ahmed had some really nice stuff, I got my picture frames, and my bracelet from 2000 is being repaired. Mia Mali is now Mali Chic and was closed for no good reason – I need to get Mary Beth her napkin rings so on verra when I’ll have time to get over there again. Perhaps when we take Areana to pre-enregistrement on Wednesday. We also each got two pairs of sandals at the Grand Artisanat, for 5000 each, which I can’t remember if that’s a good price or not, but we bargained for a while. Areana’s and Julia’s are more fancy and African, while mine are basically leather copies of some strappy teva flip flops from last season – but more my style.

Tuesday March 27th

It was 95 degrees when I landed in Bamako at 8:30. Claudia didn’t check the flight arrival time and wasn’t there to pick me up; fortunately my blackberry found the Malitel network and I was able to call her – probably only cost 10 dollars! On the ride to the hotel she told me that the strategy workshop I had flown out for had been canceled, since the National Malaria Control Program had decided April was African Malaria Month (April 25 is Africa Malaria Day) and that our project would organize all the activities, ideally one every day. April starts on Sunday, so….great.

The hotel is one I’ve been to before for workshops – it’s way out on the edge of downtown, close to our offices (5 minute walk, and 10 minutes from PSI). The wireless is free but inconsistent, and there’s nothing more depressing than a hotel room with no connection. It’s lonely.

Last night was more lonely, mostly because all of a sudden I had no idea what I would be doing, but today we sat down with the team and went over the activities, and there’s a lot I can help out on. Tonight I was hoping to get on the internet but am forced to do work. Tomorrow though Areana and I will head out to the Bla Bla and Thursday Julia and I are going to Sukothai, the best Thai restaurant in Africa.

We called Matt today and it looks like a) he is crumbling by himself in Baltimore and b) we are going to Nairobi in mid-May, after the RBM board meeting, for a strategic planning workshop for Year 2 with Claudia, Matt, Bonnie, myself, Gerald from Kenya, and Emmanuel. Also probably Regina from Mozambique and Djiba from Bamako. And Areana. I guess I’m excited but that leaves me very little time to organize the GHC panel (May 30th) and finish writing the annual report (May 30th). But – that’s life in the fast lane.

What's in the Water?

Sunday at brunch, co-workers told me that someone at the office thought I was cute. Of course I get all excited. "Too bad he's British and gay!" they said. But if our gay British colleague thinks I'm just so adorable, that is a good thing, because he is well known for being awesome and having good taste.

Today it continued - Anna said I looked very huggable. And then Lisa wanted to grab my ass! I mean, our hallway is tight and all, but this is getting a little out of hand. I don't know what people have been drinking lately, but I kinda like it.

Interns dropping like flies

After a terrible terrible 3/4 of the day things actually aren't so bad. No, we don't have the super awesome francophone intern I thought fer-sure would take our career-boosting internship, nor do we have the backup candidate because I said 'sorry!' to her before hearing back from our first choice. Nor do we know what the hell we're doing now that Kim's gone, and we sure don't have any other photos for our Africa Malaria Day photo exhibit besides Net Company #1's (beautiful, gorgeous, amazing) shots. But Net Company #2 is supposed to call me, and there are always more suckers looking for internships, and even when you think someone is ignoring you, maybe they are just busy watching DVDs and don't realize that you're all stressed out because, hey, did you say you were stressed out? So how are they supposed to know?

So I haven't quite failed yet although we're getting pretty close. I like living on the edge. Keeps me humble.

Plus did I mention my bike is HOTT? Pics soon, I promise.

Tylenol PM 1, HK 0

I am having the old insomnia again. Last night I was in bed at 10, lights out at 10:30, and at 11:00 it was clear that the old wheels were turning just a tad too fast. So I took 2 Tyl-pm and at 12:30 I was still awake and miserable.

Of course then I do fall asleep and wake up an hour after my alarm goes off, plenty late for work, with bags under my eyes the size of ping pong balls.

The good news is I'm going to Mali and Ghana in two weeks. The bad news is that one of my bosses is leaving right then and so my other boss will either be all on his own (bad) or training the new person without me (also bad).

Ugh. I'm in the suck. But at least now I know that Tylenol PM is NOT my friend.

Jazz Fest 2007

Bought my ticket. April 27-30th. Gillian Welch, Calexico, Dr John, Lucinda Williams. Cochon de lait po'boys and dinner at Cochon, Laura's bro's restaurant. Fun with Miss P (the O.G., not my old bike!) and the Gabon crew. Wandering around New Orleans with a pack on my back and sleeping on the floor, crawfish boils and real gumbo and fried oysters and Magazine street and oh my god I'm so hungry.

I was there last spring break when Kara was still there and we had the best time! Will post some pics when I get back home today.

Crystal, Neely/Doug - sorry to miss out on Merlefest this year!

I have a $250 voucher on American I have to use before June 25. Prizes to best suggestion for what to do with it.

hk

End of an Era

The other weekend Al and I wanted to go to the Dime Museum, but it was closed and getting ready to auction off all its weird artifacts (elephant man, mummies, etc). Now everything's sold. Fortunately some of the stuff will wind up in my boss's sister's new restaurant across from the Charles Theatre, so we'll still get to see it eventually.

Baltimore passes smoking ban!

Read all about it.

Card-Carrying Non-Members

Shootin'

We went shootin' Saturday with Thuy and Wes, Mary Beth and Meghan. And Thuy's friend Stephen. First two targets I got 7/13 in the black (at 15 feet), and the next two targets were slightly less great. We were shooting Thuy's 9mm service weapon which had NO SAFETY. That's right - he likes to live on the edge. Instead it had something called a decocking lever which served more or less the same purpose. The picture here is pretty close to what it looked like. For those that haven't shot before, it was loud (we were in the NRA's underground range), and actually there were a lot more women this time than last time (Dec 05). I attributed this to the new Democratic Congress but you may have your own theories. It was a little scary walking in there and handinling the gun again for the first time, but of course pretty soon we were shooting off rounds and loading clips like it was nothing. MB unfortunately caught a shell down the front of her shirt and was waving the gun all over as she shimmied to get the thing to drop down out of her cleavage, but no one was hurt and she just has a little burn on her neck. I think everyone should shoot a gun at least once in a range - although then I wouldn't get those looks of 'OMG' when I tell people at the office what I'm doing over the weekend.

Guns and Shovels

Feeling pretty proud of myself for getting the car out of the parking spot it's been iced into since Tuesday. Peter and I were making fun of this girl in a sportscar the other day who got stuck, and generally, of people who don't know how to rock and not spin their wheels. My car was in an angled parking space pointing slightly downward - but I had a secret weapon. At some point, perhaps before I moved to Baltimore, someone gave me a military shovel, the kind that folds up and you dig foxholes with when the enemy is firing at you in a) icy tundra or b) a forest setting. I guess I thought I would use it for camping but of course I never did. Now it has finally served its purpose, slicing through sheets of ice and carving out a nice path for my front wheels to grab. It was nice using my hands, the snick and crunch of blade through snow and ice, and the satisfying crack as the blocks broke up and skittered away under the car.

Now I can use the car to go to Virginia and shoot guns at the NRA Range, and then go skating. Supa-dupa.

Ghana's Golden Jubilee

Did you know Ghana's 50th anniversary of independence is March 6? Neither did I! To celebrate, our project is creating a one page flyer about how far the country has come on malaria control since 1957, and where we still need work. I have like, 10 days to do this. Awesome.

A few more

Boy. I'm really bored.

New T-shirts

I ordered some t-shirts online from Threadless.com last week and they finally came, a little late for one of my purposes but in plenty of time for another purpose. Sorry - the secrets are still necessary. I promise all will be revealed later next week. Anyway - I had this void in my closet of printed tees, having only plain shirts from the Gap, tshirts that were vintage in 1998, or actual high school track tshirts that are pretty much translucent. I needed shirts for climbing and for going to rock shows. Here are some (I didn't get all of them), and you can see what else they have on their website. Be warned - I had to order a medium as the sizes run pretty small.

Snow Day

We got off work today. I celebrated by cleaning the mouse poop out of the kitchen and mopping. Also by watching two episodes of CSI: Las Vegas. And making cocoa. I did manage to finish a draft powerpoint so all was not lost. I may even do some reading now to make up for laying in bed like a slug for six hours!

Weakness

Oh, Patagonia, why must you slash your prices, forcing me to buy things I really do not need (except underwear!)?

Origami

It's sleeting out and I got to come home from work early. Instead of catching up on reading for work (The Economics of Malaria Control Interventions) I am catching up on the New Yorker. There's an article about Robert Lang, a physicist who folds origami. The article has no pictures, which is too bad, because the pictures of his work are amazing. The one in this post is actually by Brian Chan and is one piece of paper. Lang also has pics of polyhedra which are often several pieces of paper folded the same way, then fitted together to make buckyballs, etc.

Hoping for a snow day tomorrow.

Overheard at Dizzy's

Saturday night after climbing we went to Dizzy Issie's, the only place I am happy eating a hamburger, and my favorite bar in Baltimore. Next to us were a pair of old dudes, spry enough, somewhat hale, perhaps not as hearty as they once had been. Late 70's, early 80s maybe. They were discussing finances, the way you or I would discuss setting up a 401k or which mutual fund might give the best return. Only their conversation was this:

"I heard this thing the other day, when you die it's really hard for your relatives to get at your money. So what you do is, see, you make it a joint account with one a' them. That way it's in both your names and when you die they take care of it."
"That's good, you gonna do it? You should get your brother to do that."

...conversation about getting plots in the cemetery....insurance...and the recurring motif of the conversation, stated so matter-of-factly it broke my heart:

"See, what I'm doin' is preparing to die. I'm just getting my stuff in order is what."
"That's right, that's right. It's good to plan ahead! You want one a' these wraps here? They're pretty good. Got corn beef in 'em."

It was one of those special Dizzy's moments, not unlike the night I met the guy with the Colnago.

Rocket to Venus II

This weekend we went back to Rocket to Venus, on 34th and Chestnut in Hampden, so Alistair could have a real Ham experience. Sure enough the waiters did not disappoint, with their rock-star mullets, tight jeans, and nice-blasé attitudes. The hostess texted on her cellphone all night and read the latest issue of Tank Girl. They were out of pirogies so we got the bacon/pork dumplings (good), the potato-leek soup, which had great consistency but tasted mainly of ground pepper, the grilled cheese ("Wow, this is a lot of cheese!" said Al), the Szechuan noodles (spicy and good!), and the house salad (super boring, but the boys managed to eat it all). The table next to us got the wimpies, veggie and meat, and they looked pretty good. Maybe next time.

Apparently, they also have free wireless for customers! Too bad they aren't open during the day.

Bumpers are for Bumping

I am passive aggressive. Especially when it comes to parking. I really don't mind using my bumpers as guides, but noticed this weekend that it is REALLY MORTIFYING to be continuously bashing into people while other people are in the car. So my new goal is not to touch other bumpers while parking (or when backing up to get out of the drop-off zone at the train station...). This came in handy this morning when the car behind me was my friend Lisa's from work. If we start from this morning, with a clean slate, the score is H 1, bumpers 0.

Maintenance, or Why I Should Always Ride My Bike, Even When It Is 15 Degrees Outside

I took the Honda in. For an oil change. Of course they find three other things wrong with it:

- catalytic converter heat shields are missing. Hm, maybe that was what got ripped off on the entry ramp onto I-90 in Madison back in spring 2005?
- my power steering fluid is 'dirty'.
- something induction service something throttle flush something fuel injection system that costs $165.

Because I am a SUCKA, and I don't understand my own car, nor how to properly maintain and repair it, nor do I have the time to become an amateur mechanic (despite the fact that it would also help me get boys!), I will pony up the cash and eat hummous until December so that the experts at Honda can extend the life of my vehicle. Thanks guys!

For the record, I did ask Jiffy Lube how much they would charge for replacing power steering fluid, and they said they didn't do it! Jerks.

Air Vents

are very handy for overhearing my boss and my other boss on conference calls that I don't necessarily want to sit in on. Fortunately it's not really spying, since they would be happy for me to be on the calls most of the time.

We are working on this proposal, and last night it was a dog's breakfast. Our evaluator took it home last night and formatted it and added several pages of pristine, succint and supportive content. I think he's a demon sent from outer space to taunt us with his overwhelming productivity.

It snowed about two inches last night, big fluffy ice crystals that were easy to sweep off the car this morning. It looked like movie snow, or PVC shavings. Took the car into the Honda dealership for a checkup and oil change and found out it will cost me $130 bucks to get a replacement key (lost the other one at bowling a while back). Damn, Gina. I guess one has to weigh:

likelihood of losing key again (small)
with
how much calling locksmith/tow truck will cost (huge)

so maybe $130 is a good investment.

I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass

I just got this album from Yo La Tengo. I think it's my favorite album title ever. The songs are great too!

Festival in the Desert

The BBC has a nice slideshow about the Festival au Desert in Essakane, Mali, with music and lots of pretty pictures of camels. I told a few people not to go to this (from the US) because it's super expensive and hard to get to. But if you're looking for a way to drop several large and spend days in a broken-down SUV driven by a crazy ex-nomad guide, then maybe it's for you. I admit I've never gone and only heard the horror stories of travel, and ok, how great the actual show was. Four thousand people went this January. Now that Ali Farka Toure has died though, it's less of a draw, for me at least. Salif Keita was on the program but I wonder if he actually played. He's notorious for ditching out. Matthew McConaghey is also notorious for doing yoga half-naked on top of his SUV in the cool morning air at the festival - so I suppose you'd have to weigh those two things.

Thanks to Mom for the link.

Damn you NPR

I was driving to work today and on NPR there was a story that made me cry. It's typical of stories that make me cry, when a person's life is in real danger but someone else who's just doing their job saves their life. En plus, the story was from my hometown of Champaign-Urbana, at the airport that my parents and I fly out of all the time. There's a flight school there and a lot of opportunities for local folks to fly little Cessnas in the clear Midwestern skies. Anyway - this pilot's autopilot decided it would go into a nosedive, and the air traffic controller had to supply the guy with the right readings while the pilot fought against the pull downward. The tower records everything, so you hear the fear and the fatigue in the pilot's voice. You know the story's going to turn out ok and maybe that's what got me - the cognitive dissonance between being in that moment of fear and knowing that there would be a happy ending.

Which prompts another question....what makes humans cry?

Pennies

I throw away the pennies I get, because my wallet's change compartment is small and pennies are dumb anyway. I like to think I did this before reading about K-fed's drive to save the penny, and I probably did, but not on a consistent basis. Now Dubner at Freakonomics announces some guy's proposed scheme to get rid of the penny by revaluing it at 5 cents.

Guess I should've kept those pennies.

Rocket to Venus - Sprouts gone wild

A new pseudo-smoke-free kitsch cafe in Hampden!

Rocket to Venus, reviewed both in the Baltimore Sun and the Citypaper, has an awesome u-shaped bar made from yellow light tubing, porthole windows, and lighting so dim we couldn't read the menu, but boy howdy, did we have some good food. The brussels sprouts were carmelized and salty, the beet salad delicious, and the pirogies and mac n' cheese super-cheesy. Five minutes before nine the smokers were already lighting up and we skedaddled after some slight bill issues that our adorable Hampdenite waitress remedied with embarassment. Two dolla Natty Boh's and 2.75 Yeungling draft made the night that much brighter (and kept our wallets a bit heavier!). My new favorite place....? Heck yeah, for now.

Blogosphere

I posted a comment on Time's Global Health blog last week...starting my imminent takeover of the malaria blogosphere! Har har har. Really I'm just a minion for Bill Brieger's malariamatters.org blog, which he's doing a fabulous job on.

Kites

The New York Times has a story on Puerto Rico with a nice picture of something we did at the fort!

Moonshiner

I got some tacos at Chipotle today, and they were playing Uncle Tupelo's "Moonshiner" as I ordered. I suppose the very expensive muzak service Chipotle employs has decided that this song calls up Western misery and images of gringos fleeing to Zihuatanejo to live out their days away from the prying eyes of Texas lawmen, and that people eat at Chipotle because they feel a kinship with those dudes running south of the border. But "Moonshiner" is about an Appalachian whiskey-still operator who can't quit the bar scene. Oh well. It's one of my favorite songs so I was at once happy to hear it, and cringing that Chipotle has coopted it.

You can tell the place is run by McDonald's, by the way, because of the way your stomach revolts against the food in the middle of the afternoon. It tastes good while you're eating, and then bam! The payback.

Dreaming of Houses

I had some excellent take 'n bake pizza last night with Nick and Johanna, who are in the midst of buying the rowhouse they've been renting for the past 18 months. It's an exciting process, and one that Edith and I are thinking about undertaking as well. We wouldn't buy our apartment, though. Nick and Jojo said there were two houses available on their block of cute little rowhouses, and one was across the street, with a nice little lamp on, and a green door set in faded white brick. Later that night I dreamt that I went over to that house, met the Baltimore Sun journalist who owns it, and was wowed by the vast open space inside the teeny exterior, including a second floor interior balconey, sort of like old British libraries. It was done up in cute colors and while the kitchen was very small, it had a full bar with one of those soda guns.

Unfortunately two brothers, Hopkins PhD students with dreadlocks, came in and made a good offer on the house. I clearly had missed the boat on this one so I left and wandered around Hampden, getting lost and ending up in a subterranean, drippy, pipe-ridden skateboard park.

I'm now checking listings and looking up Baltimore City and JHU housing incentives...jumping on the house-buying bandwagon is maybe not the smartest use of my time right now, but hey, you gotta grow up sometime.....?

London/Geneva

I went to London for work last week and got to see Kara in the process - she came up on her R&R from South Sudan! It was great and we ate lots of bad (as in good) English food, like cheeseburgers and steak and ale pie and pizza. We had coffee every morning at this really super little cafe around the corner from my hotel in Brentford.

We also met up with my college friend Josh, who's doing research for his PhD in the British Library. We went to the Tate Modern and went down the Holler slides:

and then saw the "Sliding Doors" exhibit:

On Saturday we went to another ex-power-station-made-into-art-space, the Wapping Project, which had huge fashion photographs in it. I was a little bored with the 'fashion photos and models in old brick industrial space' concept, and the cafe service was terrible. That said, the candles on the huge pumps and machinery still in the building made the early evening quite pleasant, as did the comedy of five english majors speculating on how the plant made electricity.

We set out for some dinner through Brick Lane (Indian restaurants galore) and Spitalfields, which has a Sunday market and a really good restaurant I'd been to the past summer, St. John. After some street BBQ we got a few beers at a bar, where I explained the sociology of Baltimore's heroin addicts to Josh's friend Ian. Honestly, most of it I just made up. Sorry Ian.

Sunday Kara and I had yet more coffee and went on a hunt for a scarf that took us up to Russell Square, where we perused books at Judd's, and where I accosted a man with a nice scarf, much to his shock and horror, to find out where he'd gotten it. Then back to Covent Garden, where I found said scarf right where he had told me, and then up to King's Cross to confirm Kara's hotel, down to Oxford Circus to grab food and an earful of live blues, and then home on the tube to pack my stuff up.

In Geneva I met with a bunch of people and all went quite well. I even have a friend to go skiing with next time I'm there and there's snow!

Puerto Rico

Puerto Rico was a blast! New Year's Eve was a picture-taking extravaganza. We drove into San Juan from our beach house with Jason on the phone with a friend in Boston, who was Googling good bars to go to. With 10 minutes to spare we found Oyster, a run down New Orleans-themed bar in Carolina. They had drinks and the countdown and a high-performance a/c system, so we shivered as we rang in 2007. Al and I shot pool all night, bought a football at Walgreens, and the gang danced away at Oyster and Monighan's, the Space-Irish club next door. It had a geodesic dome design, stars on the second floor ceiling, and no Irish paraphenalia I could see besides the green neon sign outdoors.

We went to the bioluminescent bay near Fajardo and raced our kayaks through the mangrove trees under a nearly-full moon. The little plankton ("half plant, half animal" said our guide) lit up blue-green when you disturbed the water ("because they are reproducing and dying"). El Yunque rainforest was five minutes from our house so Al and Jason and Will went up to check it out towards the end of our stay. Looked a lot like Gabon, but wetter.

New Years


"The confetti won't go!"

"You have to take the plastic wrap off."

Waterfall, rainforest.

Mes excuses!

Sorry for not posting - I've been away on vay-cay to Puerto Rico (awesome) and work trip to London and Geneva (also awesome!). As soon as I figure out how to offload the pics from my new Blackberry (incredibly useful while traveling; bane of my existence when at home) I will post you some nice things. In the meantime, here's Nick's last post. Phantom Tollbooth author addresses love and math. Awwww.....

"A romance in lower mathematics"

Ran across this cute 1960s animated short of a children’s book by Norton Juster (of Phantom Tollbooth fame and also a western Mass resident): “The Dot & the Line: a romance in lower mathematics”.

Seeing that it’s about love and math, how could I resist?

[nick@anize]