Curry, 1995-2006

Curry Ervin-Smith, 11-1/2 years of age, passed away at his home on Monday, 11 December 2006 after a brief illness.

Born 21 May 1995 on S Tate St in Greensboro NC, Curry and his litter-mate brother, Cilantro ("Cilly"), were adopted by Justin Ervin ("Daddy") and Jeff Smith ("Poppy") in July 1995 and lived within a mile of their birthplace until the family moved to Winston-Salem in 2003.

Curry's friends and family knew him by his given name as well as by various nicknames that described his physical features and personality traits, "Feu", "Fuego", "Curry Monster", "Little Puss", "Fangs", and "Sweet Boy". The more retiring of the two brothers, Curry preferred the solitude of an empty dining room chair slid under the table or a corner behind a rocker. His last days were spent relaxing in his beloved laundry basket by a window with a view of a bird feeder.

Curry is survived by his adoptive fathers, Justin Ervin of the home and Jeff Smith of Richmond VA; his feline brother, Cilly; his canine sister, Pepper, who joined the family in 2002; and a host of relatives and friends.

Memorial contributions may be made to the Forsyth Humane Society or a companion animal rescue organization of your choice.

Curry in April 2004

Mobile Phone Service Survey

I'm thinking about dumping my current mobile phone service provider, Cingular, because I have piss-poor coverage in my house. I want to keep my GSM handset, so I believe that I'm limited to moving to SunCom or T-Mobile. I'd be interested in hearing both happy and horror stories from anyone who uses them, especially in the Southeast.

• Do you find that you have good coverage in your metro area? Do you have many dropped calls?
• How much do you pay and what does your plan include in the way of minutes, text messages, e-mail, and Web browsing?
• When you've had to contact customer service via e-mail or telephone, have you had reasonably good experiences?
• Do you find online account management tools comprehensive and easy-to-use?

Feel free to leave your responses as comments here. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!

Thanksgiving

Before I get started with the list of things for which I'm thankful, let me direct your attention to an opinion piece on usatoday.com which is probably the most cogent, well-thought-out, and succinct piece on the use of scripture as a gay-bashing weapon, Buzz Thomas' When Religion Loses Its Credibility. Brilliant, that!

So, as we Yanks catch up on the calendar with our Kanuk brethren north of the border and finally celebrate Thanksgiving, I'll take a traditional pause to acknowledge and give thanks for my blessings. This year has been quite a trial, but it has brought me things for which I'm grateful.

My health. I have lost about forty pounds (18 kgs, almost 3 stone) this year. Away with that weight went nerve tingling in my hands and arms, terribly painful GERD attacks, high blood pressure, elevated blood glucose levels, and fatigue. My mental health has had its ups and downs, but might be improving, too. Through most of this year, I've been troubled by events and situations at work. This past week, a few rays of sunshine began peeking tentatively through the clouds of depression. I'm not sure that anything has changed other than my attitude, but I'm grateful because I feel a bit better about my work situation. If I do leave my job to attend law school next fall, I'd like to leave on a positive note that's congruent with the twelve good years that I've had with the same employer and I'd like to restore some of my battered confidence, all of which I'll need for school.

My family. I've always been close to my Mum, Mamaw, and Papaw, the maternal side of my family. Recently, I've grown closer to Pops and his side of my family. This year, I said goodbye for the final time to Granny, my paternal grandmother. I witnessed quite closely her decline of health and the last weeks of her demise. During that time, I saw everyone pull together to comfort her and one another. Experiencing both the loss of a loved one and the love flowing between us has made me very glad that I've reconnected with my paternals and quite thankful for them as a unit and individually.

My home. A long-time friend and his partner recently took in an acquaintance from church who was in need of a place to stay after he wore out his welcome with another family. I'm so glad that I have a place to go every evening to feel secure and to welcome family and friends so that I needn't depend on the charity of others for shelter. Along with my home, I'm thankful for my job, my car, and my animals, which make my home life possible and richer.

My friends. I think that I'd have my choice of friends with whom I could stay if I were in need of shelter. From giving me cast-off furniture, to looking after my animals for an extended period, to treating me to the occasional lunch or dinner, to just having me over for drinks, I have so enjoyed spending time with my many friends. I hope that I have returned their kindness in some small measure or at least passed it on.

Jeff. This year began with the immediate aftermath of the end of nearly eleven years with Jeff. Divorce is never easy. I witnessed my own parents' divorce and related proceedings drag on for seventeen years. However, if I had to do it all over again, there's little that I would want different about the way that Jeff and I split up. He remained supportive and as sympathetic and understanding as he could be given his immediate role in the situation. I would certainly not trade our time together for not having to go through our separation, for there was much love there and it made me much of who I am today.

Chris. In the midst of my separation from Jeff, a near stranger from my past walked back into my life. Chris is warm, gentle, and smart and has given me so much love and support, not to mention the opportunity for a long, exciting trip to a fairly exotic foreign country. I like to think that, in return, I've given him a bit more than a few small gifts and soggy shoulders.

This list looked quite familiar as I looked back over it. I realized that these are the same things for which I express appreciation to God when I pray each night, though they're in roughly the opposite order when I pray, because what's the use in building suspense for a dramatic close when you're talking to God? Nevertheless, let's certainly take the day that's set aside for such purposes and be thankful for what we have, but let's also set aside just a minute for daily reflection on our blessings. :J

Glorious Republic of Justin, Ministry of Information, Report of Week

I ought to be listing stuff on E-Bay for the upcoming shopping, er, holiday season and I am, indeed, relisting some things that didn't sell previously. But, I'm feeling uninspired. The fact is that I'm distracted; a friend pointed me to a shopping site called Bim Bam Banana where I found some quite unique gift ideas like this puzzle alarm clock or this lung-shaped ash tray. Please do not take this as a subtle hint to buy either one of these items for me, lest you find it regifted to you on the next convenient occasion!

I received in the mail several days ago a voucher for two free tickets to the new Grand Theatre here in Winston-Salem, which is located in a converted Super K-Mart on University Parkway. Unfortunately, it was set to expire on the day that Chris returns from Manila, so I chatted up my friend, PJ, who recently moved back to North Carolina from California. We hadn't yet had a chance to spend any time together, so we arranged to see Borat. Oh my stars! When, not if, you see this picture, do yourself a favor and wear a diaper, because you will likely piss yourself; it's that funny. The main character, Borat, has come to the United States to film a documentary so that the Kazakh people and government could learn from our culture. At first based in New York, they begin a cross-country trek, driven by Borat's newly-found obsession with Pamela Anderson. Along the way, he and his producer try to learn American social customs and humor with poor results. They find themselves in numerous awkward situations that are hilarious and painful to watch. PJ actually had to leave the auditorium in search of cookie dough bits with which to comfort himself as Borat prepared to sing the national anthem at a rodeo in Salem VA.

After the movie, I drove over to the home of Jeff (Chris' cousin) and Dan, who were having a belated Hallowe'en party. (I suspect as much to alleviate crowding on the calendar last weekend as to take advantage of 75% off Hallowe'en regalia -- men after my own heart!) Not being one to dress in costume, I had originally planned to not attend, but I decided to at least drop by and say hello as long as I was out, since they were nice enough to invite me. I'm so glad that I did go to the party! Jeff and Dan are welcoming and gracious hosts and make friends very easily. I caught up with friends that I'd made at their August luau as well as made some new friends.

Later today, I'm heading over to Mocksville for lunch with Pops and Jeannie, then to visit my great aunt Bert, Granny's only surviving sibling, who's had a fall since Granny's funeral and is recuperating at home. After that, it's church this evening and back to the grind tomorrow. Mmmm... grind... grounds... coffee... mmm. :J

Law School Expo

I got in my car just before lunch-time today to drive up to Wake Forest University and attend a graduate and professional school expo to which several law schools had sent admissions representatives. When I got into my car, I discovered a nasty surprise.

My windshield was cracked!

Yes, again.

Yes, the new windshield that I just installed two months ago!

Grrr. Well, at least this crack is on the passenger side and not immediately in my field of vision as the other crack was.

So, I drove up to Wake Forest and parked in an area on the grass just west of the quad that they often use for over-flow parking. I made my way into the Benson center and registered. I dunno whether it says more about folks graduating from Wake Forest or about current trends in graduate schools, but about 95% of the 75 or so schools there were law schools. Several others were MBA programs (including UNCG).

The first person with whom I spoke was Karen Britton, the representative from the University of Tennessee at Knoxville (UTK). I asked her many questions about the school and city and found her answers very helpful, both in particular about her own institution and about the law school admissions process in general. UTK didn't immediately pop into my head when I originally thought of where I might like to attend law school, but the low application fee attracted my attention and when I looked more closely, I found that I might be a strong candidate. Karen mentioned that many of their students work as summer associates at firms in Nashville, which is also the largest market for their graduates, something that weighs in UTK's favor with me.

Diane Finger of Wake Forest U was interested to hear about what had led me to consider a career in the law and told me about an upcoming admissions information session. Megan Jordan of Elon U answered yet more questions about accreditation from me and explained why their brand-new law school is well-positioned to earn ABA accreditation. Melissa Fruscione, whose e-mail message tipped me off to this event, spoke of how much Notre Dame U has to offer as an institution and a community. Cristi Head of Virginia (UVa) was rather encouraging and gave me an application fee waiver (worth $70) when I voiced my reluctance to even apply in light of my numbers and UVa's reputation (a top 10 law school).

I also spoke to Anne Richards of George Washington University and, finally, Mweni Ekpo of UNC Chapel Hill. (Mweni was constantly surrounded by a crowd and I wanted to make better use of my time than waiting.) I picked up a brochure from U South Carolina and signed their mailing list, but there was no one at their table at that moment. Everyone to whom I spoke answered my questions sincerely and candidly and took their time; I never felt rushed, even when I pounced on Mweni just as the expo was wrapping up.

I saw representatives from Columbia U, Vanderbilt U, Stanford U -- big names among law schools. There were folks from Charlotte and Charleston, two new private, for-profit law schools that are opening in those cities. There was even a representative from Chapman U, a medium-sized, private university in Orange County, California, that my friend, PJ, had tried to sell to me! NC Central U was conspicuously absent. I was disappointed to see that there was no representative from Samford U and WVU, two schools that are on the outer ranges of my radar, but about which I'm interested to see more information.

Going into the expo, I felt that I had little chance of receiving a fat envelope from Georgetown, UVa, or Vanderbilt but I felt relatively safe in applying to UNC Chapel Hill and WFU. Much of what I heard confirmed some of my suppositions, but I now fear that UNC Chapel Hill and WFU are "reaches" for me, too. I must admit that this is a little disappointing. I had hoped to receive a bit of encouragement, but that was as much as I received -- a little. Many to whom I spoke agreed that much would depend on my personal statement and other materials with which I supplemented my application.

Application fees are expensive (as much as $75 for the schools on my long list), so I'll shorten my list quickly and won't go out on many limbs. I will apply to UNC Chapel Hill, WFU, and Elon because those are my top picks. I'll apply to NC Central U and UTK because I think that I'd be a strong candidate. I'll apply to UVa because I have a fee waiver. Then, I'll wait patiently by my in-box to see what avenues open themselves to me. :J

Today's Linguistics Lesson: The Philippines

In a recent e-mail conversation about my trip to the Philippines, a friend made a perfectly innocent remark related to linguistics. Any of you that knows me well can imagine that I couldn't NOT respond in detail to his wondering "aloud".

Barry wrote:
I wonder why it is that Philippines is spelled with a "Ph" and double "pp", but Filipino is spelled with an "F" and a single "p".

I replied:
Philippines (noun form) and philippine (adjective form) look very Anglo to me, while Filipino (masculine adjective) and Filipina (feminine adjective) are clearly Hispanic. In the local Tagalog language, the name of the country is Pilipinas. It's interesting to note how they mix the languages. Spanish had an obvious influence on the language during the ~400 years that the archipelago was a Spanish colony. Common words borrowed from Spanish include "sapatos" from Spanish "zapatos" ("shoes"), "mesa" ("table"), "pero" ("but"), "gwapo" from Spanish "guapo" ("pretty/handsome"), and "kumusta" from Spanish "como está" ("hello" or "how are you"). Code-switching (speaking part of a sentence in one language and part in another) into English is rampant in everyday conversations on the streets of Manila. Tagalog and English often combine more closely still to produce what the locals call Taglish. Tagalog is a Melanesian language (closely related to Malay, Bhasa Indonesia, and Chamorro; less so to Samoan and Hawai'ian; and distantly to Malagasy) and, absent loan words and code-switching, sounds very foreign to me, indeed.

The hybridization of the Philippines' linguistic culture is most obvious in what they call their money. The Tagalog word for their basic monetary unit is "Piso", which divides into 100 "Sentimo". The "English" words for these units are "Peso" and "Centavo", respectively, which are direct borrowings from Spanish. BTW, "Sentimo" looks very much to me like the old French monetary sub-unit, the Centime, 100 of which made 1 Franc.

It's worth noting further that Tagalog is one of about a dozen major languages (of a few hundred in total) spoken in the Philippines. The standardized, national, written language, which is based on Tagalog, is called Filipino. The National Language Institute gave it this name in 1987; before that time, the written language was called Pilipino from 1961 and Tagalog before that. The 1961 name change was owing to continued development of a national language that borrows from a number of indigenous languages.

I heard less Taglish and code-switching in Legaspi City. For example, when Edith, our tour guide, spoke to Joe Joe, our driver, she never said "yes" or "no", she always used the Tagalog or Bikol "oo" and "hindi". By comparison, I never heard "oo" and "hindi" in Manila.

Chris noted the absence of the F and V sounds (voiceless and voiced labio-dental fricatives, respectively, to us linguists) from Filipinos' everyday speech. They use, instead, the P and B sounds (voiceless and voiced bilabial plosives, respectively). Good examples of this phonetic adaptation include two common loan words from English, the Tagalog words "trapik" and "drayber" which correspond respectively to the English words "traffic" and "driver".

And, yes, there are loan words of Filipino origin in English: boondocks, yo-yo, and amok to name a few.

Wikipedia has several articles on which I based much of this entry and that would make good further reading.

• Tagalog Language
• Languages of the Philippines
• Philippine Creole Spanish

Enjoy! :J

Manila Trip - Part 7

Another early morning caught us unawares as Chris' fancy new phone cock-a-doodle-dooed us awake at 5 AM so that we could get to the airport for our 7.30 AM flight. Last night, I heard Jun tell Pacholo at Club Mwah that we had to leave early to catch a plane to "El [unintelligible]" and Chris had told me that this was to be a charter flight, so I had a few clues about our destination, but it really was still anyone's guess as to where we were going.

Even this early on a Saturday morning, there was some traffic, but we made our way to the airport quickly enough and found the Island Transvoyager office and checked in. A small-ish plane with two propellers sat on the tarmac beyond a leafy patio. Going through security screening, checking my bag, and receiving a boarding pass seemed a bit ridiculous, since I felt like I was preparing to board a flying taxi cab. (Did you know that "taxi cab" is short for "taximeter cabriolet"?) We waited in the lounge and enjoyed an iced tea (Nestea, which I now crave.) until a staffer came on the PA to announce that boarding was imminent, so we should take advantage of the restrooms on the ground since there's no lavatory on the plane. I began to regret my iced tea. A smartly-dressed womon walked out of a nearby office and conducted the standard safety information routine right there in the lounge. She mentioned that the cabin of the plane isn't pressurized. What had Chris gotten us into? At the boarding announcement, we headed out of the lounge and walked the twenty feet to the plane, stepped on the door, and entered. I sat. I buckled myself in. I tightened the belt. We took off. As it turned out, the ride was quite smooth and comfortable. We flew fairly low, but that just let me take in a bit of scenery and shoot some photos from the plane. About 90 minutes later, we landed at El Nido airport (ENI) on northern Palawan where we were greeted by musicians. We were shown to the arrivals lounge, where we enjoyed refreshments and browsed in the gift shop before boarding a Jeepney that took us to the dock. We transferred to an out-rigger boat and rode for another hour... to paradise.

Absolute paradise. We glided over topaz-blue water past giant limestone boulders serving as islands that were lushly covered with greenery. Great clouds piled up in the sky trying to mimic and out-do the limestone islands. A string of cottages came into view and we had arrived at our destination, El Nido Resorts' Lagen Island. The resort was a cluster of cottages lined up along the edges of a lagoon and nestled in a tropical forest, centered around a large clubhouse, pool, and restaurant. Sheer limestone cliffs hundreds of feet tall provided a dramatic backdrop to this fantastic scene. I was at a loss for words. How had Chris found this place? How had he managed to arrange such an elaborate get-away? What had I done to deserve such an unimaginable voyage?

Staff helped us off of the boat at the docks and led us to the clubhouse where more musicians greeted us and a staffer oriented us to the resort and its facilities. The resort generates its own electricity and processes its own sewage. Bacuit Bay, in which the resort is located, is a protected natural area. They asked us to please use the biodegradable soaps and shampoos that they provided, instead of our own, to minimize the introduction of foreign chemicals into the waters. Rubbish is shipped back to Manila for recycling or disposal. All activities (snorkeling, boat transportation to local sights, kayaking, hiking, banana leaf hat-making, tours, an intro SCUBA dive) and all food (three gourmet meals per day) were included. I couldn't decide if I was dreaming of myself in an episode of Fantasy Island or Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous!

We kayaked through Big and Small Lagoons of Miniloc Island, explored caves, had a picnic lunch on a semi-private beach, swam in waters hotter than a Jacuzzi tub, marveled at exotic sea shells and aquatic life, enjoyed a sunset cruise on the bay, took underwater photos and fed fish while snorkeling, and ate like kings. I had an introductory SCUBA dive near the resort dock while Chris snorkeled above me. Others explored the dozens of dive sites around Bacuit Bay, went deep-sea fishing, hiked a nature trail to one of the island hilltops, and went bird-watching in a mangrove. The staff were invariably friendly, knowledgeable, helpful, and efficient; one activities coordinator could ask us once what we wanted to do each day and it immediately seemed as though even the landscaping crew knew what we were doing when. There was no schedule except our own; the staff were ready to accommodate us whenever we felt like undertaking a new adventure. We quickly became acquainted with some of the other guests: couples from South Africa and Geneva as well as some young, American ex-pats working in Manila). Every meal included sushi and smoked fish; rice; fresh fruit juices; and an array of foods from Asia (sushi, bok choy, kimchee), Europe (pastas), the Philippines (garlic rice), and North America (fried chicken, Cocoa Puffs). Did I mention the desserts? These people know what to do with chocolate! There was a dense chocolate torte one night and a memorable flourless chocolate cake the next, besides heavenly cookies. Yum! I cannot say enough good about El Nido Resorts. If you can find the time and money to go there for a week or more, it's well worth the effort that it takes to get there!

Our stay at the resort turned out to be a fitting final flourish to the trip of a lifetime. But, a final flourish it was. We returned to Manila on Monday evening. Chris went back to work on Tuesday and I spent most of the day putting photos on Flickr and packing. I'd intended to go to the mall for a manicure and to buy some final souvenirs, but a torrential rain kept me inside all day. I nervously watched the television news talk about terrorist bombings that had taken place over the weekend on Mindanao and follow up by reporting that Manila was under a red terrorist alert; police had information that terrorists were in Manila and preparing to carry out an attack in the capital. Yay. At about 7 PM, Chris returned and delivered me to the airport for my 10.30 PM flight. I said the sad, but inevitable goodbye and walked inside the terminal. As a guard was wanding a hand-held metal detector over me, I turned and saw the van pull away in the dark and rain from nearly the exact spot where it had warmly greeted me on a bright, early morning nearly two weeks before.

I checked in for my flight, paid the P550 (US$11) terminal fee, and completed an immigration departure form. Rather than read my passport and type the information into a computer as the arrivals officer had done, the departures officer placed my passport face-down on a small flat-bed scanner and pressed a key; a light flashed and that was it. Due to the red terrorist alert, I had to go through multiple screenings to enter the terminal, move between the check-in and gate areas, sit down at the gate, and board the plane. My bag was x-rayed twice and searched twice. I removed my shoes and emptied the contents of my pockets twice. Three small tubes of toothpaste were removed from my bag, including one from a sealed container emblazoned "Philippine Airlines". I wasn't complaining. I bought a few more postcards and gazed longingly at the offerings of Goldilocks bakery before boarding the plane. The trip back east seemed quite short compared to the westward flight. Once again, PAL took good care of us, feeding us four times, showing us three movies, and providing us with little extras to keep us comfortable. I slept for most of the flight across the Pacific Ocean. I cleared US Customs without a fuss, had a bite to eat in the airport, and slept again for much of my flight across the US. Upon arriving in Charlotte, I found my car in good condition, got a bit lost leaving the airport, but found I-85 quickly enough. I stopped in China Grove to deliver to Chris' sister some gifts that he'd sent back early for her children, then made my way home, where I was greeted by three ecstatic animals and the scent of cat urine. Ah, home again! :J

Manila Trip - Intermission

Chris put up some pics on Flickr that he took of our our various excursions during my visit... to Tagaytay/Taal, Legaspi City/Mayon, and El Nido (including my first SCUBA dive). He also has many snaps of his first visit to Palawan when he stayed in Puerto Princesa and visited the Underground River and other sights around Manila.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/chris0871/

I also found a group on Flickr called Only in the Philippines with interesting shots from around the country.

Have a look and enjoy! :J

Manila Trip - Part 6

There was little rest for the weary after our return to Manila from Legaspi City -- we had another flight to catch early the next morning to our next destination, which was still a secret to me.

Fortunately, there was some rest. Chris and I decided to visit The Spa, an establishment across the street from his hotel in Podium mall. As soon as we walked in, our sinuses were opened by the aroma of eucalyptus oil warming by the door. We approached reception and selected our services from the menu -- a manicure for Chris and a pedicure for me. I'd had my first pedicure ever at a resort near DC while attending a friend's wedding at Memorial Day of this year and quite enjoyed the experience as well as the results. The staff led us into a quiet room with terry-cloth upholstered, over-stuffed recliners and offered us cups of ginger tea -- an elixir! An hour later, we were filed, clipped, and polished and only P650 (US$13) poorer for the experience! By the way, Chris' Filipino friends think that this is an exorbitant amount to pay for a manicure and pedicure; they claim that P200 (US$4) is more on-target!

After our spa treatment, we headed down a couple of levels to Banana Leaf Asian Cafe, a cool pan-Asian restaurant with an impressive menu and very tasty food! The menu featured lots of curry, seafood, and fried rices from Hainan, Malaysia, Korea, and other cultures in eastern and south-eastern Asia. And, by the way, the name of the restaurant comes from the fact that they serve one's food on huge banana leaves instead of plates!

After dinner we grabbed a cab and headed over to one of Chris' favorite haunts in Manila, Club Mwah. I'd heard great things from Chris about this night club and disco and seen lotsa fun pictures from his several visits here with colleagues and visitors from work. Chris clearly felt at home from the moment that we walked in; his posture and gait were more confident and about half of the staff greeted him by name. This place is fabulous! I felt as if I'd walked into The Birdcage! The manager/owner, Pocholo, greeted Chris and showed us all around, introduced us to his partner (also named Chris) with whom he co-owns the club, and chatted with us for several minutes as he told us about some of the celebrities who'd visited -- ambassadors, politicians, and corporate executives, even Imelda Marcos! Chris' friend, Jun, a travel agent, joined us shortly and took some great pics of us that he shared. The show was simply amazing. They performed routines to Gloria Gaynor's I Am What I Am, Jailhouse Tango from Chicago, and something from Miss Saigon, among many other numbers. At the end, the two main hostesses and Chaka did an interactive comedy routine with the audience, introducing various groups to the rest of the club. They even put us in the spotlight at one point!

It was a very fun evening that ended far too soon. We left shortly after midnight so that we could rise at 5 AM and catch our 7 AM flight to... somewhere. Stay tuned! :J

Manila Trip - Part 5

Chris worked a compressed week, putting in his 40 hours in three days, so that we could take off for a few adventures in the latter half of the week. He arrived home at about 3 AM on Thursday morning and, like me, arose groggily at 5.30 AM. We dressed quickly, caught our car, and arrived at the airport for our 7:00 AM flight on Philippine Airlines (PAL) to Legaspi City.

Legaspi City (also spelled "Legazpi", though the S dominates locally) is on the Bicol peninsula, near the southern tip of Luzon, the largest of the more than 7,100 islands that make up the Philippines, and is home to Mayon, a well-known, active volcano highly regarded for its beauty due to its nearly perfectly symmetrical cone. I was excited about the prospect of visiting Mayon when I learned our destination (Chris kept many of his plans secret until the last minute.), especially since we'd just visited Taal several days before and because Mayon had just erupted a couple of months earlier.

Our tour guide, Edith Batalla, and our driver, Joe Joe met us at the airport. (A note about our driver's name: Reduplication is a common feature of Tagalog and other Melanesian languages and is often used to pluralize or to intensify words, so Joe Joe could be Joe Sr, Joe Jr, or Big Joe.) Edith took us on a complete tour of the towns and sights around Mayon and we completely circled the volcano. We visited Cagsawa (site of a town that Mayon buried in an 1814 eruption, only its bell tower survives), Naglagbong Geothermal Park and a ceramics factory in Tiwi, the Mayon Planetarium, and took in the view from a picnic shelter within the "permanent danger zone" on the slopes of Mayon. We also drove over numerous river beds that crews were clearing of ash and debris with which Mayon had filled them just weeks earlier. Edith delivered us to hour hotel at about 3 PM and provided us with some suggestions for dinner. Our accommodation for the evening was the Pepperland Motel, a large, Moorish-looking edifice the color of an egg yolk. We made our way to our room and lie down for a nap, but we ended up sleeping through the night and awoke at 6 AM.

Unfortunately, I didn't completely sleep through the night. Instead, it finally hit me; I got sick. I made several trips to the bathroom that night and produced something akin to a lumpy purée of motor oil and spinach. Like Mayon's, my own eruptions subsided quickly, though I felt queasy for much of the next day.

Having missed dinner (but being no worse off for it), we enjoyed a hearty breakfast and set out for the second part of our tour. We went to Ligñon Hill and visited a Phivolcs volcanic observatory station on its slopes and then took in the view from an events hall at its summit. Edith showed us Legaspi City's port area and Lion Hill, as well as the hillside Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe (further evidence of the colonial-era connection between the Philippines and Mexico). I took some good photos of local flora at the Shrine; I now know where all of our tropical house-plants originated! We wandered around Pacific Mall for a couple of hours before Edith and Joe Joe delivered us to the airport for our 3 PM return flight to Manila.

PAL flies between Manila and Legaspi City only three times per week, so in order to return the next day, our return flight was on Cebu Pacific Air. I had never heard of Cebu Pacific and was a bit anxious about the return flight, imagining the airline equivalent of steerage with naked children and poultry running amok. You can imagine how pleased I was to board a brand new Airbus 319 (just three months old)! Cebu Pacific seems to be the Philippines' equivalent of the United States' Southwest Airlines, a fun-oriented, low-cost carrier. Cebu Pacific cabin crew often engage the passengers in karaoke and name-that-tune contests, though we were not so privileged on the 45-minute flight back to Manila. The flight was comfortable, on-time, and quite enjoyable. I look forward to flying Cebu Pacific again!

While we were waiting for our flight, a man walked in followed by two other men who were hunched over under the weight of an enormous icon of the Virgin Mary. This icon eventually occupied a place of honor in the floor of the front row of the plane and burdened two other now-hunchbacked men upon her arrival in Manila, where she attracted a sizable crowd of admirers and was eventually met by a small parade of several cars and vans adorned with blue and white balloons.

Unfortunately, Mayon was shy and kept its summit covered by clouds during our entire stay in Legaspi City. Edith explained that Mayon and the clouds that often cover its peak have been anthropomorphized by myth into a young, beautiful heiress (Mayon) whose father insisted that she marry a man of his choosing rather than the good and handsome, yet poor boy that she truly loved (the clouds). To escape her father's wrath and marriage to someone whom she didn't love, she took her own life. Upon learning of the heiress' demise, her enamored did likewise. She became the volcano and he the clouds and now the two are said to be making love when the clouds come and cover Mayon's tip for days at a time, flaunting their affair for all to see. So, rather than shy, I should say that Mayon was quite flagrant during our stay. I'm sure that Mayon's recent eruption was a feminine tantrum and the clouds were just soothing Mayon's temper for a perceived wrong!

I was thrilled to have the opportunity to visit Mayon, but I can't say a whole lot about Legaspi City. If you live in Manila and are bored one weekend, it might be a fun over-night trip, but I can't say that I was impressed enough to spend a whole weekend there and I think that Chris would echo my sentiments. Mayon is definitely the highlight of the area, though I'd have to say that chocolate-covered pili nuts are a close second! The area is also known for its whale shark watching.

I can say that Edith proved herself thoroughly knowledgeable about her home province of Albay and region of Bicol. I commented that she must've been a life-long tour guide, but she countered that she'd changed careers just four years ago, having previously been a professor of American Literature at two universities in Manila and Legaspi City for more than twenty years! If you do find yourself in Legaspi City, look her up! :J

Manila Trip - Part 4

The last few days have been kinda slow. Chris has been working a compressed week to put in his 40 hours in three days so that we can take off for a trip later this week. We were talking about the schedule for the rest of my stay and it came out that he has not one but two plane trips planned for us before I leave! He hasn't said where we're going, but I suspect that we're whisking off to Legaspi in southern Luzon and to Palawan. Time will tell!

So, I've been amusing myself by being a mall rat. There are several malls within walking distance of the hotel, three of which I can see from my window. From what I've read and seen on maps, I'm convinced that there must be well over a hundred malls in Metro Manila.

I walked Podium mall one evening in just a couple of hours. It has five levels, but the complex is quite compact. The shops are higher-end places like Lacoste, Columbia Sportswear, and Victorinox Luggage. The merchandise is as expensive as it is in the States, if not more so. I bought a map of the Philippines in National Book Store and some toiletries in Watson's Drugs.

Another day, I explored half of SM Megamall. Now, this is an enormous place! Chris has lived here for two and a half months and says that he still discovers stores. This used to be the Philippines' largest mall until this past May, when Mall of Asia, now Asia's largest mall, opened in a relatively undeveloped area on Manila Bay at the southern end of the EDSA expressway. SM Megamall also has five levels and is divided into two buildings, which are actually connected on four levels by a connector that stretches over Doña Julia Vargas Ave. In addition to hundreds of shops and restaurants (including a Jollibee on nearly every level -- more on that shortly), a bowling alley, an exposition hall, an anchor SM Department Store, a dozen-screen cinema, and an SM Super Market. Level 4 of building A is mostly art galleries, while level 5 has a lot of doctors' and dentists' offices. There's an area of small electronic stores (where I was glad to find a new charger for my mobile phone), a couple of hardware stores, many hair salons, and a car dealership. BTW, SM stands for "Shoe Mart", which is how the large company that SM has become got its start.

Walking the malls has given me some insight into a few particular segments of Philippine culture. I have noticed that men aren't extremely shy about adjusting themselves, picking their noses, or whipping it out for a pee in any old corner outdoors. As such, there are steel stalls scattered about the streets with the words "Male Urinal" emblazoned upon them. Interestingly enough, wimmin are more discreet about such things and, unfortunately, are not accommodated in the same way -- there are no "Female Urinal" cottages that I've seen.

Mall corridors are peppered with food kiosks, which sell all manner of foods. Among their offerings are hot dogs, which are usually wrapped in a waffle (kinda like a corn dog) and described as "American style." Mexican food and doughnuts are available everywhere, in kiosks, carts, and storefront restaurants. Taho is a traditional Filipino treat that I tried from a cart in the mall; it's made of tofu, turbinado syrup, and tapioca balls and served warm; I wanted to be able to say that I'd tried it and now, I can. Of course, all of this walking and shopping worked up an appetite in me, so I ducked into Jollibee, a fast-food chain that features a Filipino interpretation of American fast food. Hamburgers are available on buns made of bread or sticky rice (which McDonald's also offers). Fried chicken is served with mashed potatoes and gravy or rice and mushrooms. Breakfast includes pancakes, eggs, choice of sausage or corned beef, and, of course, the traditional garlic rice.

I'm very much enjoying myself here and am beginning to feel quite comfortable. I think that if I were here for an extended stay, like Chris, I could adapt and fit in quite quickly, a statement as much about my host country as about me. :J

Manila Trip - Part 3

Saturday started out with a bit of an adventure, as did Sunday. Sunday's was fun; Saturday's wasn't.

The training group that Chris was observing had finished a sequence of modules and was having a graduation party of sorts in a neighborhood resort with pool and bar not far from the office. Chris' colleagues wanted for me to attend the party, so I caught a cab to meet Chris at his office, which is in a Robinson's mall in Cainta. I packed a few things for the party, grabbed my mobile phone, a map of Manila, and some cash and headed out the door. Chris had mentioned that such a trip would cost about P200 (US$4). The hotel doorman offered to have the hotel car drive me ("It will be safer."), which would've cost P1,000 (US$20), but I elected for the cheaper cab. The doorman hailed a cab, took the cabbie's license and wrote down his name and registration number, then described to the cabbie where he understood that I wanted to go. I was off! I sent Chris a text message to let him know that I was on my way. I knew where I was going, so I followed along in my map for a while. Shortly, I noticed that the cabbie turned off of the street that'd've taken us from near the hotel to Chris' office in a straight shot. I paid close attention, but began to get a little worried. I worried a bit more when he turned off of this large boulevard onto a two-lane street that wound through a neighborhood and past a derelict freeway interchange that was intended to cross the Pasig River. There were still a lot of cabs around and I could tell where we were, so I figured that the cabbie knew a less-congested route. We ended up on another major boulevard that crossed the river and finally arrived at a destination -- a different Robinson's mall in another part of Cainta.

"Here you are, sir, Robinson's Cainta," the cabbie reported.

I didn't recognize the place and I knew from following the map that this wasn't where I wanted to go. "Is this Ortigas Avenue?", I asked somewhat rhetorically.

"Yes, sir," he replied, without hesitating to think about or acknowledge what I'd asked.

"No, it isn't!", I snapped. "This isn't where I wanted to go," I deadpanned as I handed the cabbie the map and pointed out my intended destination. The cabbie's eyes grew wide as he studied the map. I sent Chris another text message to report that we were lost. The phone rang shortly and Chris reported that one of his colleagues, Rio, was going to talk to the cabbie and tell him how to find where we needed to go. The cabbie took the phone and began speaking in Tagalog; I could tell that he was just as panicked as was I and I figured out that this is where the doorman had told him to take me. He handed the phone back to me and Rio reassured me that the cabbie now knew where he was going. I continued to follow along on the map until I was delivered to my correct destination just a few minutes later, aged and wizened from my experience!

I went inside the building and helped Chris for about an hour put together some things for a game night that we were to host on Sunday evening. About an hour later, we left for the resort. Our driver, Dante, whom Chris knows well, zig-zagged about the neighborhood where the resort was located for about 30 minutes before we found where we were going. The others followed about an hour later, then the food arrived an hour more later and was served just as we had to leave to arrive at another engagement. We scarfed down our barbecued tilapia with rice and hit the streets again.

We cabbed back to the hotel, changed clothes, and grabbed another cab that would take us to the Cultural Center of the Philippines, a large auditorium complex on Manila Bay, where Noel, a friend of Chris', was performing in a Tchaikovsky opera, Eugene Onégin. We travelled south on the EDSA expressway and turned north on Roxas Boulevard. We found the CCP complex and continued on through about a half-dozen more intersections, looking for one at which we could legally U-turn, a situation that amused me, considering how traffic works here. We u-turned and passed the CCP again. Frustrated, we stopped the cab and walked a couple of blocks to our destination. Inside, we dozed intermittently during the opera, but awoke when we heard Noel singing. After the performance, we greeted him in the lobby, then hopped in a cab for our next destination.

This driver was serious about getting us quickly to Mall of Asia for dinner and a concert with The Von Trapp Children. He sped up, braked, swerved, honked and wove his way through traffic in much the same way as do all other drivers here, though he was more determined in his pursuit of as many fares as possible. We walked about the mall, had a nice dinner, then made our way to the concert hall to see The Von Trapp Children, descendants of the real family on whose story The Sound of Music is based, who still tour and perform! It had been a long day for both of us and we slumped in our seats as we waited for the concert to begin, which it finally did 40 minutes late. We enjoyed about 45 minutes of singing until intermission, at which point we left. We were disheartened at the long taxi queue, but it moved quite quickly and we were home and in bed less than an hour later.

Sunday morning came early, though not quite as early as we'd thought it would. Dante, the driver, was to meet us and three of Chris' work friends at the hotel at 6 AM. When we awoke, the clock rudely reported that it was 6:20. We sprang from bed and began to buzz about getting ready. The phone rang; it was Jane calling from downstairs; she, Karen, and Lara had arrived, but Dante wasn't there yet. We readied ourselves and shot down in the elevator. Dante called to report that he'd just finished repairing a flat tire. We hit the road by 7 AM and made our way down the ESDA, past Mall of Asia, past the airport, and out of Metro Manila on the South Luzon Expressway into Cavite province. We drove the Aguinaldo Highway through Bacoor, Imus, and Silang. The terrain became more mountainous as we approached Tagaytay and then crossed into Batangas province just before arriving in our destination, Laurel, about two hours after setting out. In Laurel, we stopped at Natalia's Guest House, where we arranged for transportation across Lake Taal to Volcano Island and then up to the rim of Taal Volcano. A twenty-minute boat ride landed us on Volcano Island, where a twenty-minute donkey ride took us to the rim of Taal. That was the first time in my life that I'd ever ridden any sort of equine transport! The scenery was undeniably breath-taking and I took many photos. By the time that we returned to Natalia's, we were quite tired, even though we'd done nothing but ride all day -- van, boat, donkey! We lunched on grill-roasted tilapia from Lake Taal, stir-fried vegetables, rice, iced tea (quite popular here), and bananas. A sleepy-two hour drive returned us home to the hotel.

Jane, Karen, and Lara, who'd accompanied us to Taal, stayed on in anticipation of a game night that Chris had planned for some of his colleagues. We assembled the cards that we'd use for game play -- cutting, pasting, and laminating. Jane and I walked to the grocery store in the SM Megamall for drinks and snacks. John arrived at about 6 PM and Dianne arrived shortly afterwards. Chris ordered dinner from Yellow Cab Pizza and we set upon playing Scruples and having a thoroughly enjoyable evening. I enjoyed a Red Horse (strong Philippine beer) with my pizza. Though Chris intended to stay up through the night to get back on his work-week schedule, I couldn't keep my eyes open and lied down for a nap at about 10:30 PM, shortly before our guests left. It had been a fun weekend and I was completely worn out!

Manila Trip - Part 2

After Chris met me at the airport, we went back to his office to collect his belongings and tie up some loose ends. All of his work friends had said that they wanted to meet me and I was interested to see where Chris was working, so I had planned on making a trip to his office eventually. As we drove through Manila, I was struck at how much it conjured up memories of Mexico City.

Indeed, there are many similarities between the cities. Each was the capital of a Spanish colony; each city is a cosmopolitan, urban jungle in the midst of what are essentially third-world countries; each suffers under terrible pollution that would choke a Californian; and each has traffic that would fray the nerves of even a Parisian driver. Their respective countries have much in common, too. Each country was christianized by the Spanish and now has a Catholic majority; each is now closely allied (politically, culturally, and economically to varying degrees) with the United States; there are great economic disparities and extremes of rich and poor; each is doing a respectable job of maintaining a democracy and is working hard to modernize infrastructure, as well as economic and political institutions.

While driving along, I saw the naked superstructures of huge billboards that are sprinkled throughout the city. During typhoon Milenyo that passed through Metro Manila just a couple of weeks ago, one such billboard fell onto a bus and killed 40 people, causing an outcry against these billboards that clutter the skyline, so the billboards themselves were removed, leaving the bare superstructures.

Traffic here is quite something to experience. There are cars, buses, jeepneys, motorcycles, bicycles, and people streaming everywhere and all mixed together. There's clearly a system to it and it works; I've not seen an accident and Chris has only been in one light fender-bender. The key seems to be that people drive slowly and make liberal use of the horn to communicate their presence and intentions.

We arrived at Chris' office and checked through security (as we will do for every office building or shop that we enter). We arrived just as Chris' shift of trainees was leaving (which felt like class change in a small high school) and as we walked through the hallway, literally every second person chimed, "Hi, Chris!" He is clearly quite popular and well-respected. We encountered a crowd of Chris' work friends and he made the rounds of introductions. They all knew exactly who I was and exactly what I was doing here and were very excited to meet me. Chris had just a few loose ends to tie up in his day, so the crowd (Diane, Lara, John, Karen, and Jane) took me to breakfast in the office cafeteria and we had a fun and lively conversation. Karen bought me a flan to sample, which tasted different and somehow better than the Mexican and Spanish flan that I've had, and I had a surprisingly tasty instant coffee from a machine. We talked about their experiences at work (They are a contract call center for several American companies, though this bunch works exclusively on the United Health account.), American culture, Philippine culture, my work, and their interactions with Chris.

Chris can be very quiet at times and some here thought that he was a snob until he came to work one day and related to them something that had happened to him at his hotel. He returned home one morning (after his over-night shift) to find missing the stuffed turtle, Ruga, that I'd sent with him. He was very upset and chatted me up, starting out with "I have some distressing news!" After learning that neither his office hadn't been bombed and he hadn't been mugged, I encouraged him to ask the front desk about Ruga. He marched down and did so, then went out for errands for a couple of hours and when he returned, Ruga was back in place! Yay! Karen explained how this story finally revealed a big part of Chris' personality that they'd not yet seen and endeared him to them, "That's when Chris became Chris to us!"

The next day, we went out to the SM Mega Mall for lunch at a Mexican restaurant and to do a bit of grocery shopping. Lunch at the Mexican restaurant was tasty and interesting. Vegetarian items were mostly absent from the menu, but cooks are accommodating if asked. Pinto beans aren't available here, so there are no refried beans as we know them in North America; they put whole kidney beans in my taco, instead. I had a side order of guacamole which was unlike any guacamole that I've had in North America; it tasted like it was made with a mayonnaise base and perhaps had an avocado passed near it. Chris mentioned not having notice avocadoes in the grocery store. Mind you, the meal was tasty and filling. The salsa was good and the margarita was strong! I felt the need to clarify that by commenting on the differences that I see, I'm just making observations on how others interpret things (cuisine, in this instance) differently from how we, ourselves, have interpreted them in the United States. It's not a pale imitation of the authentic, just a different perspective.

We browsed through several shops in the mall and were invariably greeted with a "Hello, Sir!" from every sales clerk within earshot (and some beyond, I'm sure). As we browsed through the mall's flagship SM department store, sales staff greeted us and then hovered next to us as we looked at clothes, rice cookers, dishes, toys, and other merchandise. I realize that they're just being helpful by making themselves available, but I found it very annoying and impossible to shop.

The grocery store operated much like any grocery store in the United States. The mix of merchandise was quite similar, though there were many tell-tale signs that we're in Asia. There are an abundance of fruits that I just don't see in the US -- big, spiky melons that look dangerous to touch; limes the size of kumquats or pearl onions; something called dragon fruit that looks like a pink puffer fish. A lot of it wasn't pretty -- it was scraped and scuffed with black marks and some of it was wilted. Hey, it's still edible! Maybe chemical pesticides and fertilizers aren't as common here as in the United States, so it might be even more edible! There was a whole aisle of ramen-type noodles and another whole aisle of instant sauces and gravies, yet only one small section of breakfast cereals. Cranberry sauce nestled among the spaghetti sauces, sold in bags. I purchased a bag of something called "banana catsup" that is made without tomatoes, yet is somehow red. Fish and shrimp-flavored items abound and I bought a few shrimp-flavored chips and crackers and something called "Yummy Flakes", as well as some pumpkin seeds roasted black (quite good) which seem quite popular, some fried peas, and a can of fish soup. Whenever I've travelled abroad, I've always found grocery stores to be quite entertaining places.

In the days ahead, I'm looking forward to a game night with Chris' friends from work; a trip to Tagaytay to explore the Taal volcano and its crater lake; and a trip to Palawan, a large and mostly undeveloped island in the western Philippines. This trip is shaping up to be the adventure of a lifetime and I'm so glad to be here! :J

Manila Trip - Part 1

Tuesday, the day that I left for my trip to visit Chris in Manila, started early and ended late... Thursday morning late.

I awoke at my usual time... about 7 AM. I showered and dressed, finished packing, took care of a few last minute things, and hit the road shortly after 10 AM to drive to the Charlotte airport. Along the way, I stopped in Salisbury and met with Chris' Dad and sister to pick up some things that they wanted to send to him. Traffic was good and parking, riding the shuttle, checking in, and going through security all went quite smoothly and I arrived at my gate with time to spare before my 3.30 PM boarding.

This left me with plenty of time to read, people-watch, and to think about what lay ahead of me and behind me. Granny had passed away on Saturday evening and I'd missed her funeral while I was driving to the airport. I made my travel plans several weeks ago when Granny was still in the nursing home and her short-term prognosis was decent. Even after she entered the hospital, she appeared to have stabilized in the days before my trip; it seemed likely that she'd pass away while I was in Manila and quite possible that she'd hang on until I returned. I think that I'm OK with missing the funeral and I think that my family is, too. I made a point to be present for the family viewing and visitation on Monday because I knew that I'd be absent on Tuesday. Pops and all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed very excited for me. My cousins in Charlotte, Billy and Jenny, had both agreed to drive me to the airport, but now couldn't. I decided to just put my car in long-term parking, which I think is for the best, since my return flight is set to arrive at 6.30 AM and who would've wanted to meet me at the airport at that hour!?

I flew from Charlotte to San Francisco on US Airways, which took 5.5 hours and was a pleasant enough experience. An airline friend made sure that I had a seat on the exit row for plenty of leg room and clued me in to the in-flight movie and café choices. The flight attendant in my section grew up in Kernersville and lives in Pfafftown, both suburbs of Winston-Salem, so we had fun chatting about home. Though I'd wanted to see the movie, The Lake House, I chose not to purchase headphones and taught myself to work sudoku puzzles instead. En route, the pilot pointed out Memphis and the Mississippi River and made another announcement about our impending landing while we were over southern Utah.

Upon landing in San Francisco, I quickly found my way to the international terminal. While walking, I noticed the outdoor scenery through the airport's large windows. I was impressed with the area's beauty -- hills stretched out in every direction and were lovely, despite the fact that they're covered with homes -- and took a moment to appreciate the bustle of Bay Area California -- a freeway runs close enough to the airport so that I could nearly identify license plates and more than one rail transit system was evident. As I checked-in for my flight on Philippine Airlines (PAL), I noticed that nearly everyone on the plane was Filipino, all but about a half-dozen of us. As I looked about, I noticed that about half of the Filipinos were Filipino-Americans, carrying blue US passports. (Filipino passports are green or red.) Nearly everyone had 18-inch cube boxes packed (and I do mean PACKED) with goods. Addresses written on the side of the boxes were almost invariably in Metro Manila -- Quezon City, Makati, Pasay, and Mandaluyong, among others.

I was hungry and had some time to kill after checking-in, so I found some food and had some dinner -- pesto bowtie pasta and cheesecake. I began thinking of whom I could call to pass the time, but realized that everyone at home was likely in bed, so I thought of whom I knew on the west coast. I could only find one such number in my phone, so I called my friend, Kelly, and caught up with her. When I hung up with her, I went to the restroom and had almost finished when Chris called to check on me, but he was kind enough to hang on while I raised and buttoned my pants.

I made my way to the gate, where the staff had us form one line so that they could tag our bags. The unorganized crowd slimmed into a rough line, then the staff announced that we should form two lines to have our bags tagged. Collective groan. We approached in turn and placed our bags on the scale and the staff attached a PAL tag. Signs declared a strict limit of one carry-on bag weighing no more than 7 kilograms or 15 pounds and one small personal item, claiming that this is a regulation of the FAA, though I doubt that last assertion. Nevertheless, I had little problem boarding with my two bags that weighed a total of 24 pounds. I know how much they weighed because the ticketing agent weighed them for me.

The flight was great for the most part. They fed us three meals, served us several drinks, and showed four movies (two in English and two in Tagalog) and several TV shows. In contrast to US Airways, which charged for food and headsets, everything on the PAL flight was included, even cocktails! I suppose that when you're gonna be on a plane for that amount of time (16.5 hours), they want to keep you quite happy. I was expecting a refueling stop in Guam, but the plane stopped in Honolulu instead. When Chris flew over on Northwest, they stopped in Japan and made everyone deplane with their carry-on bags; in contrast, we were not allowed off of the plane and couldn't make any calls.

I was seated in an aisle seat, next to a friendly Filipino chap named Gerry. We talked a bit, but not a great deal. It was a nice flight for the most part. I slept fitfully and for only about 4 hours. About an hour before we landed we hit a patch of bad weather that shook the plane hard. At one point, we dropped sharply and would've come out of our seats if not for our safety belts -- quite like a roller coaster. That's when Gerry started vomiting. I saw him fidgeting with his air sickness bag, then throw it to the ground in disgust. Then, he yanked the case off of his pillow and threw up into it. He had spoken at length with the other two Filipino guys in our row and one of them began to rub Gerry's back. I unwrapped my blanket and handed the plastic wrapper to Gerry; he dropped his pillow case into it and promptly threw up again. I picked up the flight safety card and fanned him. He was sweating profusely and leaned forward against the seat in front of him to try to regain his composure. By this time, the other two guys in our row had done likewise, also overcome with nausea. They certainly weren't alone, as I heard hurling all around me. When the turbulence calmed, Gerry made his way to the lavatory. The crew served breakfast and the others in my row ate, which made me think that Gerry's vomiting caused their nausea. The smell of food permeated the aircraft and I hoped that Gerry wouldn't return anytime soon, lest the odor cause him to vomit again. But, he did. And, he did. I'm just glad that he didn't throw up outside the bag or on me and that I didn't get nauseated. I concentrated on my customs and immigration form to take my mind off of it.

We landed and everyone applauded, certainly at least as much for the simple fact that the flight was over as for the pilot's skill in flying and landing the plane. I walked off of the plane and up the jet-way and followed the crowd to immigration. A clerk took a copy of my immigration and customs form, entered the info from my passport into the computer (a Dell), then stamped my passport. I was in! Yay! Faces were pressed against the terminal's outside windows watching for loved ones. I found the baggage carousel and then turned to look through the window (really, one whole wall of the terminal) for Chris. I saw him standing at the covered driveway and waved; he saw me and waved back, so I blew him a kiss.

I waited at the baggage carousel for quite awhile before it even began moving. An announcement said that technical problems were causing a delay in off-loading our bags -- sounds like someone lost the key! I found that my mobile phone was working, so I called Chris to say hello and tell him what I'd heard. I waited a bit longer. The conveyor finally started, but there was no sign of my bag for quite a while. I called Mamaw to tell her that I'd arrived safely. I waited a bit more. I counted three trips that one set of bags made past me. While I was preparing for my trip, I was very concerned that my bag would be lost. My airline friend told me that inter-airline baggage transfers are prime opportiunities for lost bags. I packed strategically and put in the checked bags only things that I'd be comfortable losing. I carried-on things that I absolutely didn't want to lose -- medicines, camera, and nicer clothes. I was carrying medicines for both myself and Chris, as well as several food products and some gifts from Chris' family. After about 45 minutes, I saw my big, brown duffel break through the rubber curtain and snake its way toward me. I picked it up and prepared to face Customs. I was a bit concerned about how this might go, considering that I was carrying prescription drugs and many foodstuffs, but the clerk just took my form, glanced at my bags, and waved me through the outside door ten feet away. That was it! I was here! Yay!

Chris greeted me with a big hug. After 10 weeks apart and the longest flight of my life, he was even more handsome that I'd remembered and a very welcome sight in a country that I'd never visited, twelve thousand miles from home. I didn't think about what the next two weeks would bring, but just concentrated on the moment -- of finally being in the ground and with my Sweetie. :J

Highs and Lows

Yesterday, Saturday, 30 September, was a day of profound emotional highs and lows.

The day started out on an anxious note as I rose at 5.45, my normal hour for awakening, to get ready to drive up to Wake Forest University and take the LSAT. I felt prepared enough for the test. I'd taken a prep class and had taken several practice test sections, so I knew what to expect on the actual test. I'd driven past the testing site (the WFU law school) and scoped out the parking situation, so I felt that I knew what to expect at the site. The test itself went well enough. There was one reading comprehension section on which I ran out of time and had to C-C-C, but I don't think that I grossly screwed up anything, so I feel good about my performance. I felt so relieved... positively giddy... as I walked out of the testing center. My score will arrive in three weeks, just a few days after I return from Manila. That was the high note.

The low came at 7 o'clock yesterday evening when the phone rang with a call from a mobile phone number that I didn't recognize. I picked up and didn't immediately recognize my Pops' voice, but when I did, I knew why he was calling. Granny had passed away just minutes before. I had been expecting the news for some time, but it was still a surprise and saddening when it finally arrived.

So now, there's the question of the arrangements for Granny's memorial service. I'm leaving for Manila on Tuesday and I was relying on my cousin, Billy, to take me to the airport. I don't expect my family to make arrangements specifically to accommodate me, so I wonder how I might need to change my plans and whether I'll even be able to attend the funeral. I feel a bit selfish and very awkward about this situation.

I'll just have to let go and see how God leads me to handle Granny's memorial service. That strategy has worked out quite well for me this year and has brought me a great boyfriend in the immediate wake of my divorce, helped me to lose 35 pounds (16 kilos) since January, led me to start the process of applying to law school, and is about to put me on a plane for a 24-hour trip to Asia to visit my boyfriend. All of this in a year! Who knows where else I might be led! :J

Marcia Veatrice Jones Towell
1911-2006

The Week that Sucked

Last week sucked. So much went so wrong for me, my family, and some of my friends!

The week got off to a bad start with a sore throat from the weekend (9-10 Sep). A sore throat has always been a cause of concern for me, since I am prone to catching strep throat; I had it every year as a child and every semester in college. This one didn't last long, but I missed work on Monday. Some other bug came around after the sore throat went away; I had a fever on Thursday afternoon and missed work again on Friday. Normally, I'd welcome a day(or two) away from work, but I'm carrying around more than a bit of anxiety about work right now, so I wasn't pleased that I had to miss and risk appearing the slacker.

On Wednesday, a friend mentioned to me that he wasn't feeling well. I probed his statement, which seemed innocuous enough on the surface, and found that he was afraid that he was having a heart attack. (This person is a heart attack survivor, so he would know what it feels like.) I reviewed with him his symptoms and asked what he might do about about this. Before I left work, I made him promise that he'd visit the doctor when his shift ended and call me when he'd found out something. I spent the evening at home worried about my friend -- hoping that he would, indeed, go to the doctor and wondering what the doctor would find. He called me in the wee hours of Thursday morning, having just returned home from the hospital and reported that his symptoms weren't due to a heart attack, but were the result of recent lifestyle changes (a temporary work relocation) that presented him with too much rich food and too little exercise and sleep. He has since taken measures to rectify his situation.

Also on Wednesday, another friend (whom I'll call Thom) told me that some of his online accounts had been hijacked by a guy in Indonesia. Having recently moved, Thom had been checking some of his online accounts to be sure that he'd updated them with his new address, when he found that information in his E-Bay account had been changed and that someone had bought three laptop computers and an expensive mobile phone. The next day, the cracker had locked Thom out of his two primary e-mail accounts! Thom had to create new e-mail accounts and spent several hours on the phone with his service providers to sort out the mess, parts of which are still unresolved. Though he didn't lose any money (or hasn't yet), he has lost several hours of his time and a bit of sense of security from the violation. At one point, the cracker actually contacted him directly by e-mail! That gave even me an eerie, "the-call-is-coming-from-inside-the-house" kinda feeling. I felt so sick about Thom's situation that I wanted to throw up, myself! I don't know how the cracker got into Thom's computer, but when Thom was reviewing his security, he found that his firewall was off. Who knows if something inadvertent happened to switch off the firewall and let the cracker in or if the cracker got in some other way and turned the firewall off. I've helped Thom scan his computer for several threats, but I've encouraged him to backup his data, reformat his hard drive, and install Windows afresh. Who knows what sort of key-logger or snooping software the cracker might've left on his computer that would allow him to do this again!

On top of all of this, Granny (my paternal grandmother) is in the hospital and not doing well. My whole family gathered at the hospital on Friday night for a round of tearful goodbyes. Granny is 95, very sick, and in much pain with a broken leg; she says that all of her prayers have been answered and that she's ready to go whenever God sees fit to lead her onward. Nevertheless, it'll be tough for whose who stay behind when she does move on and quite a loss for our family. She is still with us as I write this (Monday evening, 18 Sep), but she is clearly continuing on her journey toward her eventual destination.

I do have a few things to which I can look forward to seeing me through this trying time. My LSAT preparation class is going well and I feel good about the skills and strategies that I'm learning. Also, my trip to Manila is little more than two weeks away! Yay! Before I know it, I'll be putting my pencil down and picking my passport up! :J

Sunday with Granny

My friend, Leslie, called me this morning and invited me to attend church with her at MCC of Winston-Salem, since it was Pastor Mark's last Sunday with us before moving to New Jersey to live with his partner. I'd attended the evening service at ths church, but never the morning service and I was in for a treat! The church was alive with the Spirit! Gospel music filled the church through the sound system and folks were milling about, chatting and hugging and breaking into an occasional dance or hand-clapping fit. This is what I so enjoyed about my days at the now-defunct Saint Mary's MCC in Greensboro -- the family atmosphere and sheer exhuberance!

Shirley, a hip, grand-motherly sort who'd greeted me on my previous visits came right over to hug me and we exchanged a few greetings. I asked her to introduce me to two other congregants (whom I'll call Jane and Belinda) whom I knew regularly attended the morning service. She ushered me right over and introduced me. I explained to Jane and Belinda that I lived in the house that they used to own and that they vacated about five years ago. They were ecstatic! "Oh, we miss that house so!" "We had to stop driving by because the womon to whom we sold it just let it go." "I love that house; my heart is in it!" Hearing this and putting two and two together, Shirley interjected that she lives in an apartment just around the corner from me. I promised to have Jane and Belinda to dinner one evening and extended to Shirley an open invitation to drop by.

Leslie and I sat just behind Jane and Belinda and we exchanged friendly remarks throughout the service, which was very emotional. At open prayer time, many offered praises for success on the job, relationship happiness, and financial break-throughs. One womon gave thanks for having lost over 100 pounds in the past year! Still others shared the heartache of lost employment and loved ones who are lost or ill. I was one who had heartache to share, involving my paternal grandmother's failing health and my plans to visit her this afternoon. Several folks, including Pastor Mark, mentioned that their thoughts would go with me and my family.

My paternal grandmother, Granny, has been in failing health for the past several years, but things have really slid downhill this year. A tumor is growing in her chest and pressing on her trachea such that it will eventually suffocate her. Surgery, chemotheraphy, and radiotherapy are impractical options in a womon of 95 years. I shared this with the congregation and added that I was going to visit Granny this afternoon to take advantage of the few fleeting opportunities that remain for me to do so.

When informed of her situation and asked how she wanted to make use of the time that she had remaining, Granny replied that God had answered all of her prayers and that she had gotten out of life all that she could want; she just wanted to spend time with and enjoy her sizable family (4 children and their significant others; 6 grandchildren; 4 great-grandchildren; a smattering of siblings and in-laws; and the proverbial host of nieces, nephews, cousins, and extended family; as well as her church family).

Granny has had to move from her assisted-living facility into an acute-care nusring home and the lack of oxygen in her system quite often leaves her confused and foggy. She might not remember when anyone last visited her, but she recognizes every face that enters her room! And you'd better believe that she'll have a sassy remark for you! Granny actually looked quite good and was in good spirits, despite the rough week that she'd had, having had to use an oxygen mask for several days.

I thank God for all of my family and friends and treasure each one of them as a pearl on a fine string of them. Each is unique and, by nature, imperfect. They certainly have their rough spots, but that's what makes them genuine and, indeed, precious. :J

Granny celebrates her 95th birthday in February 2006 with some of her grandchildren: Lori, Billy, Justin (moi), and Jenny.

Granny celebrates her 94th birthday in February 2005 with her oldest daughter, my aunt Anne, and Anne's husband; their children, Lori and Billy, and their spouses; and three of her four great-grandchildren.

While Strolling through the 'Hood One Day

My normal lunch-time routine during the work-week includes a half-hour walk through the neighborhood next to campus, Greensboro's College Hill, so named because it's sandwiched between Greensboro College and UNC Greensboro. On one such walk recently, I noticed a few things that stood out to me for one reason or another.

First, I saw a big, white van parked in front of one of the grander houses in the neighborhood. The van bore the name and phone number of a local paint company and there several guys in white jump-suits perched on ladders all around the house, all dilligently stroking their paint-brushes left and right over the clapboard siding. Affixed non-chalantly to the rear bumper of the van was a permanent handicapped license plate! WTF?

Second, I was walking down the main thoroughfare through campus, on which the City has just installed a new bicycle lane. A campus bicycle cop was pedalling along in the freshly-painted lane and it occurred to me how pleased I was that the City and the University had worked together to take steps to encourage people travel to campus via means other than their cars. (The several colleges and universities in town cooperated with the Greensboro Transit Authority and just initiated HEAT, a new bus service that connects all of the campuses in town.) So, the bicycle cop was pedalling along and approaching a traffic light that had turned red. And he kept going! Hello, copper!? Do I need to remind you that bicycles have to obey traffic laws, too? I chose not to do so in that case.

Finally, I saw a cool W oval. You know those annoying W '04 ovals that Bushie boosters stick on their autos (quite often, gas-guzzling, Osama-orgasming SUVs) to let the rest of us know that they stand with George Jr. Well, this was the parody sort of W sticker. Quite clever some of them are! The one that I saw on this day read "Woe", but I've also seen "WTF?" and, of course, the classic "Wrong!"

So, my lunch-time walk provides me with fresh air, exercise, and fodder for thought! Go walkabout sometime, yourself! :J

Gentrify my Neighborhood... Please!

I read today a great article in The Onion with which I very much identified. Sometimes I Feel Like I'm The Only One Trying To Gentrify This Neighborhood, done in classic Onion style, nearly could've been written about my neighborhood, the West Salem area of Winston-Salem NC. We already have a dog run and a community garden, but there are large swaths quite near to me that you could pick out from their seeming description in this article!

While you're at it, have a look at my favorite Onion article of all time, Rules Grammar Change: English Traditional Replaced To Be New Syntax With from 12 March 1997, which strongly appeals to the linguist in me. A friend also pointed out the me the frighteningly prophetic Bush: 'Our Long National Nightmare Of Peace And Prosperity Is Finally Over' from 17 January 2001. Yikes!

Enjoy! :J

Investing in the Future

I've been a fan of investing for a few years now and have a few alms stashed here and there in several of the common acronym accounts (IRA, 401-K, SEP, 403-B, CD, etc). However, you won't find any information in this entry about dividend reinvestment, mutual funds, ETFs, or short selling. (I will, however, recommend that you read Your Money or Your Life: Transforming Your Relationship with Money and Achieving Financial Independence by Joe Dominguez and Vicki Robin.) The topic here is a different kind of investment.

Over the past few weeks, I've invested a few hundred dollars in my career future, registering for the LSAT (the Law School Admissions Test) and an LSAT preparation class. A variety of events, both at work and at home, have led me to examine my goals and the direction of my life and career. I considered a few different career-change options, including technical writing and project management, but a serendipitous conversation with my attorney during a meeting to revise my estate plans led me to consider a career in the law. Trusts, estate, and tax law seem to be a good match for my talents, skills, and abilities, so I decided to apply to law school. I've talked to several friends who are attorneys, read several books on law school and careers in the law, and have set the process in motion for anticipated enrollment in Fall 2007.

Just today, I invested a considerable sum in a different type of vehicle -- an airplane, or, part of one. This is not a business investment, but rather a personal investment. Specifically, I bought a ticket to Manila, where my boyfriend, Chris, is temporarily assigned for work. Our relationship had blossomed and been growing for about five months when he left for Manila on 15 July for what was originally a two-month assignment, but which has extended to a four-month assignment. Being apart has been more difficult than either of us imagined, so given the positive direction in which we were and still are headed, I've determined that this investment vehicle is likely to yield increasing dividends for many years to come.

My divorce late last year and uncertainties at work earlier this year have put me at the crossroads of a challenge and an opportunity. I don't remember where, but I read earlier today a "quote" attributed to the infamous Yogi Berra -- "When you come to a fork in the road, take it!" :J

Saturday Morning History Lesson

I stayed up a bit late last night, so you can imagine how I felt when I was awakened this morning (Saturday) at 8 AM by Pepper's barking and then by someone ringing the door bell. I rose from bed and saw a tall, older man through the front door shade. I knew that he couldn't see me and I wasn't about to answer the door under such circumstances, so I went to use the bathroom and to put in my eye-drops. The door bell rang a second time and then a third. I decided that this person needed a little jarring, so I opened the window next to the front door, sat down on the blanket chest in my underwear with my bed-head and asked, "What can I do for you, sir?"

"My name's Calvin Wyatt and I grew up in this house; my father built it when I was two years old in 1928. I wanted to ask you if I could take a picture because I didn't want you to see me creeping around out here and wonder what was going on."

I told him that, of course, he was welcomed to take a picture and that I'd love to have him come in and talk for a while. I threw on some clothes, put on a pot of coffee, fed the animals, and let him in. For about two hours, we chatted and walked about the house. He remarked several times on how little had changed in the house while so much had changed in the neighbourhood. He said that his father died in 1965 and his mother moved to an assisted-living center in the early 1970s, so the house was unoccupied until his mother died in the late 1980s. Calvin and his brother, William, sold the house the next year. I picked up the story there. I knew from doing deed research that the Wyatts sold the house in 1988 to a lesbian couple, who sold it to another lesbian couple (Gloria and Melinda) in 1995, who sold it in 2001 to the womon (Ellen) from whom I bought the house in 2003. The lesbian couples who lived here took great care of the house and preserved much of its original character. (The house has its original sash-weighted windows, wood floors, wood siding, and scroll-work rafter tails. The kitchen and bathroom have been renovated, but the work was done sensitively.)

Our conversation was very enlightening. Mr Wyatt pointed out where the original, wood-fired stove was installed in the kitchen before they replaced it with a kerosene-fired stove. He described how my laundry room was once an open porch on which their ice box stood. In the basement, he pointed out to me the former locations of a wood-burning stove, water heater, washing machine, wash sink, and coal conveyor. He also remembers the basement floor being dirt until his family cemented over half of it and reminisced about the brothers' cutting trees from the woods behind the house (which I had believed was once an alley-way) and building cabins in which to camp in the basement. In the back yard, he pointed out to me where his mother had several rock gardens, as well as the location of their chicken coop, vegetable garden, apple tree, and plum tree. He described watching his grandpa build the garage (which has never had doors). He confirmed that the roof was always asphalt shingles and was never tin or slate. The most revealing tidbit was finding out that my den addition was built in 1950, not in the early 1990s as I had previously suspected.

Mr Wyatt told me about his family's roots in Wilkes County. His parents moved to Winston-Salem, where his dad, William Lundy Wyatt (1893-1965), worked for RJ Reynolds Tobacco Co at their Bailey Power Plant at the corner of Fourth St and Patterson Ave NE from the 1920s to 1960. RJR generated their own electricity for their cigarette-making operations and generated enough surplus to power more of Winston-Salem than Duke Power, our local electric utility. His mother, Etta (1901-1993) was a home-maker. The family attended Salem Baptist Church (where his dad also taught Sunday school) for many years before transferring to First Baptist Church.

Etta and William Sr had three sons, William Larkin Wyatt (1919-2002), Calvin Wyatt (born 1926), and Herbert Gray Wyatt (1928-1965). The three brothers attended the Granville School (now Granville Place retirement residence, which I can see from my back door) and RJ Reynolds High School. William Jr and Calvin attended Davidson College, while Herbert attended Salem College and was the first man to graduate from the still-"all-female" institution. All three sons were teachers. William Jr taugh Latin and History at Virginia Episcopal School (VES) in Lynchburg and eventually became its Head Master. Calvin taught sciences at VES before taking a job with GE and moving to Florida in 1957. Herbert taught music at a military school in Front Royal VA before moving to another school near the Virginia coast and passing away at an early age.

Calvin had a paper route for both the morning (Journal) and afternoon (Sentinel) newspapers; in the summers he also carried peanuts that a neighbour roasted at night and distributed them to vending stations along his route. He rose at 4 AM and walked to the Salem College Library, where his route began, traded a newspaper for a doughnut at the original Krispy Kreme on Salem Square, continued as far as Patterson Ave at the far corner of downtown, then finished his route at Fourth and Broad Sts NW. He then walked home, got his books, and walked to RJ Reynolds High School. At the end of the school day, he walked home and then walked his afternoon paper route. Those familiar with Winston-Salem will know that this is no small accomplishment and will wonder how he hadn't walked his legs down to nubs by the time he'd finished high school. (At one point, he mentioned that he'd had a knee replacement, so there you go.)

As we walked about the house and the yard, I could tell that all sorts of memories were running through Mr Wyatt's head. He didn't get emotional, but he did seem thoroughly pleased that his childhood home is still much the place that he remembered and that its current occupant and guardian enjoys and appreciates it as much as he once did. :J

Comings and Goings

My life has been very much in flux for the past couple of weeks with friends and family coming and going on bases both permanent and temporary.

First, the comings. My cousin, Kristin, has moved back to North Carolina after a year in Boston (after having over-wintered there and found the New England winter not to her liking) and settled right here in Winston-Salem! We haven't hooked up yet, but I look forward to hanging out with her often. My cousin, Natalie, is expecting a brand new baby boy any day now. My friend, Donna, is returning to North Carolina from Tacoma and I might make part of the journey with her.

Now, for the goings.

My ex, Jeff, moved out at the end of June. He was supposed to stay put for the rest of this year, but his dream job came available in Richmond and his skills, talents, and knowledge made him an obivous choice for the position -- an archivist of historic preservation documents. Our last 24 hours together were, predictably, quite intense and included a heated discussion and emotional fare-well wishes. It was very hard on Jeff to say good-bye to the animals (and I flatter myself to think to me, too). I got choked up saying good-bye to his parents, my former mother- and father-in-law, but it was difficult to finally see Jeff go, too, as much as I thought I was ready for the day. I realised recently that being a good husband and looking after Jeff provided a feast for my ego and watching him leave, I felt oddly like an eagle parent watch its eaglet jump from the nest for the last time. We've communicated almost daily since Jeff moved, either by phone, e-mail, or chat and he's doing quite well.

Finally, and more recently, I said goodbye to my boyfriend just yesterday morning as I dropped him off at the airport for a two-month work assignment in the Philippines. I'd known for months that the day was coming, I helped him with many of his preparations, and I'm looking after some of his affairs while he's away; nevertheless, it was an emotional event to watch him go through security and round the corner to the gate and I sniffled a bit as I trudged back to the car. Twenty-four hours later, he called to tell me that he'd arrived safely after an uneventful flight and dash through customs.

Several friends have told me that I'm welcome to call and to visit if I'm feeling lonely. Truth be told, part of me has been looking forward to this solitude for an opportunity to process all that has happened in my personal life this year. I need to remember who I am and what are my tastes and make my house my own space; I need to reaccustom myself to look within for some of the things to which I used to look to another; and I need to commune with God and sort out what direction I my life will take from here. :J

Pet Peeves

I've been ill this week, having had a sore throat through most of Fathers' Day weekend and been diagnosed with tonsilitis on Monday. Between the sore throat, painful swallowing, and generally feeling bad, I've focused a bit on negative things, including some of my pet peeves.

Language (grammar and spelling) is one area in which I'm quite a snob. I realise and accept that languages (grammar as much as vocabulary) change over time, but our languages have rules for a reason: so that we can express ourselves clearly and concisely to one another. (Fine, call me a prescriptivist; I wear the label proudly.) I'll skip my opinions on stylistics and even the routine rants about such pedestrian errors as subject-verb disagreement, verb tense confusion, and double negatives and get right to the things that just befuddle me.

• Attaching unnecessary prepositions to the ends of sentences: "Where are you at?"
• Misusing punctuation: there's so much to say here, I'll just be brief and cry "woe the dignity of the hyphen and semi-colon!"
• Misusing the apostrophe for pluralisation ("There are several lady's in the shop." and "Be sure to visit 'Antique's of Reidsville'!") and when indicating possession ("Cox's Harley-Davidson" where "Cox' H-D" would suffice or "Lois's party" instead of "Lois' party"). Yes, 'Antique's of Reidsville' and 'Cox's Harley-Davidson' are real businesses that prominently display these blunders on signs, the latter with its name engraved in stone!
• Confusing homophones: there/their, your/you're, to/two/too.
• Abusing the subjunctive: saying "I wish that I was..." instead of "I wish that I were..." or "I wish that I would've done so and so" instead of "I wish that I had done so and so."
• Worst of all, being down-right sloppy: writing "should of" in place of "should've".

Driving is another arena that I find frustrating. I have a 40-minute commute, half of which is on a freeway. Others' driving habits shouldn't amaze or shock me at this point, since I've been a driver for more than half of my life, but I still can't help but get annoyed, frustrated, and sometimes even angry at behaviour on the roads.

• Poking along in the passing (left) lane, especially when the travel (centre or right) lane is wide open and, correspondingly, passing in the merge (right) lane when the passing lane is open.
• Failing to signal.
• Weaving in and out of traffic -- be patient and wait your turn!
• Sneaking through a yellow light at the last minute when traffic is already backed-up, thereby blocking the cross street -- that's just selfish and mean.
• Parking in the fire lane directly outside of a shop. This is just the worst driving sin (though perhaps not technically driving) around and the apex of laziness!

Of course, much of this is just my opinion and I'm sure that some will disagree and others will latch onto the "snob" moniker that I applied to myself earlier, but I just think that the world would be a nicer place and that things would operate much more smoothly if we all just paused to think about the real messages that we send to others with what we say and do. :J

A Bearish Day

Today started out kinda crappy, but things have gotten a bit better as the day has gone on.

I knew yesterday evening that I'd be needing to refuel soon, so I began scouting fuel stations for the best prices. I saw a couple of stations that were offering diesel for $2.899 per gallon, but I didn't think that I wanted to pay that much. Sure, fuel is still cheap in the United States compared with many other places (and expensive compared to some oil-rich states that subsidise fuel sales), but I thought that I could find diesel for a nickel or a dime less elsewhere, so I drove on past the point of the fuel light coming on and finally HAD to refuel this morning.

I awoke this morning to a steady rain from one of the feeder bands of tropical storm Alberto and quickly resolved myself to refueling in the rain, but this was just a harbinger of the morning that I was about to have. I stopped in Kernersville at one of the places where I often refuel (an Exxon on NC-66 near I-40) and was immediately struck by two sights, the first being the price ($2.939 per gallon; sure, they claim that it's premium diesel, but there's no cetane rating visible) and the second being the hand-lettered sign that had appeared since my last stop here that read "Diesel please pre-pay inside." Grrr.

I pulled out the umbrella and trudged into the shop, waited for the clerk to stroll from the back of the store to help me, and told her that I wanted $20 diesel. Sure, my car could've held $40, but I was displeased with this store, so I'd decided to give them a minimal amount of my business (even forgetting for a moment that almost no diesel pump has a pay-at-the-pump card-swipe option). As she was processing my transaction, she pressed a button on an intercom and said, "your pump's on; you can start pumping". I looked outside and saw all of the pumps unoccupied except the diesel pump next to where I'd parked. "I thought that we had to pre-pay for diesel," I challenged her. "Oh, he's OK; I know him." Grrr.

I returned to my car, filled the tank half-way, and drove away. Back on I-40, the traffic was moving at the speed limit (as opposed to the normal 10-15 miles per hour above the limit) due to the rain. Of course, this was in the passing (left-most) lane, while the travel (centre) lane was relatively empty. I gritted my teeth and prepared to pass the slow-pokes on the right (which I am loathe to do, but sometimes one has to). As I pulled along-side the slow-pokes, they sped up slightly so that just before I had clearance to get back into the left lane, I came face-to-tail with a FedEx truck, so I had to slow back down and get back behind the slow-pokes. Grrr.

At this point, I began banging my steering wheel and muttering obscenities to myself. I determined that I would pass these nincompoops eventually, no matter what, but at that moment, something clicked in my head. I noticed that the rain hadn't slackened at all during my entire drive, there had been plentiful brakes-tapping for most of the way, and the road was crowded with rush-hour traffic. I decided that I'd better calm down and said a little prayer to make it stick. A few minutes later, I arrived safely in the parking garage at work. Yay!

On the way into my building, I struggled with my belongings and dumped a good bit of my coffee onto the paper bag containing my lunch and into my closed umbrella. Grrr.

So, I was in a foul mood when I arrived at work. Fortunately, my colleagues were in good spirits and we chatted amiably for a few minutes before I sat down and got to work. For several weeks, I've been working on a difficult project that's made me quite discouraged at times, so I've been having trouble staying motivated. I worked on and finished another smaller project that still required a bit of brain power, so I felt quite accomplished as the day wound down. Yay!

I didn't have any car-poolers this morning, so I drove alone. Knowing this, my sweetie, Chris, asked me if I'd like to have dinner together after work and we feasted on fried seafood at Libby Hill. Yay! Then we went back to his place and I helped him to set up his wireless network. Yay!

So, this bearish day that started out meriting several "grrrs" finally turned bullish. Yay! :J