Of Arctic Colonialism & Unexpected Organizations

In an age where everything belongs to someone (even open source software belongs to "you and me" and has proprietary versions), the frozen arctic north has remained (in my mind at least) blissfully un-owned. Until now.

Canada, the US, Russia, Norway, and Denmark are all laying claim to parts of the oil-rich seabed under the North Pole. Read the BBC news article.

Ah, yes, oil as a proxy for $ makes the world go 'round. Wonder when Dubya is going to discover Al Quaeda underwater (as opposed to underfoot). Maybe the Aurora Borealis have been after-effects of weapons tests all along...

As a side note, did you know there is an International Seabed Authority?

While I understand the need for the ISA, it just goes to show there is an organization for everything. Ferret lovers, Coon dogs, and folks who live on land but rule the ocean floor. I bet high-volume flush toilets have an organized following too, esp. here in California where they are illegal.

So why don't you and I? Maybe because we generate more turds than we remove on a daily basis... wonder what club we could make that into :P

Newly Named Blog... Newly Minted Me?

In the two full years since my last blog posting, a huge amount has happened and a similarly large amount has changed, both in terms of my life situation and the way I perceive and relate to the world. Most changes are not obvious from the surface (I look about the same, though I've lost weight and have more worry lines). But those who know me can tell.

I am less open, less trusting, certainly a lot less innocent to the vagaries and unfairness of life. I am less certain of some things (many idealistic beliefs are gone for good) and more certain of my own ability to survive anything that comes my way, alone or with friends. I laugh much less now. Perhaps in some ways I am stronger.

In the face of this transformation, I've decided to rename my blog. The old name ("La Petite Cochonne" which translated to: "The Little Female Pig") left too much to the imagination, at least for any wayward French speaker who might happen upon my blog! The new name has some subtlety to it too - I don't use "fiendish" here to connote evil tendencies, rather it's meant to convey something unexpected, as in "fiendishly clever" or in this case fiendishly *cute*.

Still, the new name is more straightforward than the old. As I hope my life will be from now on.

A Tourist in My Own Backyard

I am a perennial tourist. It probably comes from not travelling much as a kid (though to be fair we made a few trips which I have photographic evidence but no memories of since I was too young at the time to recall them later). As an adult, I have done very little travelling compared to most folks who live in my geographic area, much more than most of the folks I still know back home, and not even a third as much travel as I hope to squeeze in before I die.

So almost always, even just outside my doorstep, I am "on tour" to make up for all those far away locales I've never visited. I get unusually happy when learning random facts about a person or place's history, "ooh" and "ahh" at little things most residents of the area couldn't care less about, openly remark about all the "firsts" experienced recently, and pick up cheesy souvenirs all over the place.

Today's touristy bounty from local jaunts? Two smooshed pennies from Pac Bell Park and a baby blue balloon animal from the train ride home after the game. The pennies have the words "San Francisco Giants vs. Boston Red Sox" pressed into them. The balloon cat has this squished up face like a pug's face, or the face of those dolls that are made of pillow filling wrapped in nylon stockings with sections cordonned off by string to delimit the hands from the arms, etc. It's strangely cute!

Today's firsts? Slid down the metal tube inside the Coke Bottle at the ballpark, saw a major league grand slam live (unfortunately, it was the Giants who scored that one), learned at least one obscure baseball rule from my brother (an encyclopedia of all things baseball), and ran into one person I know from out-of-state while hosting another person from out-of-state.

Granted, none of this is very interesting to anyone but me, but I think finding delight in little things (esp. when close to home) helps keep me happy. And that's not a bad thing, is it? :)

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P.S. That obscure baseball rule I mentioned:
When there are already 2 strikes, then a batter tries but fails to bunt, he is not automatically out if the ball hits the bat on that attempt. Instead, it's considered a foul ball unless the batter is tagged out. When this happened today, the players from the defense didn't realize this and turned their backs long enough for the batter to make it to first base! They didn't score, but what a funny moment!

Less obscure, but probably not well known either:
When there are fewer than two outs and a ball gets popped into the infield with two men on base, it's an automatic out to prevent a double play.

Big Brother Has Spoken

Since I mentioned him in my first posting ever, I thought I'd send my brother the link to this blog and ask him why he doesn't have one of his own. Here's his response...

"Now why would you set up a blog? Great material for a stalker. Are you really a pig? Besides, all my blog would say is 1) I fell asleep 2) I ate food 3) I'm playing pool"

Guess that's all one needs in life really. :-)

Fire Light in the Night Sky above the Bay

Last night, after 7 years, I finally made it to KFOG KaBoom! on Pier 30/32 in San Francisco. For those who don't live in the area, KFOG is a local radio station, and a pretty good one at that. Every summer in late May they put on this free event called KaBoom that features musicians playing for free (this year's headliner was Train) and it always ends with a big fireworks display. People all around the bay watch it from their homes, from points near the water, from Treasure Island (in the bay), even from *on* the water (the bay is rumored to be a parking lot full of boats KaBoom night). It's really the best fireworks show in Northern California -- much better than the wimpy, uncoordinated 4th of July version from the same spot.

They had a bunch of fireworks that were new to me: white ones with colored tips that seem like they're coming out of the sky straight for you, bright pink ones that seemed to bounce along the horizon low to the water, and white/yellow ones that shot out of the barges like the carefully coordinated water sprays of the Bellagio fountains while trailing light "dust" behind them. There was one moment choreographed to a Sarah Maclachlan song (all KaBoom fireworks are choreographed to music they play on their station at the same time) when the whole sky from way up high was filled with gold sparks and bursts and streams like weeping willows twisting in the wind. I didn't know fireworks could go so high or that the sky could be saturated with light like that. Sounds hokey, but it was really breathtaking, at least for me. Then all the colors and sounds and lights of the finale -- amazing!

Fireworks have a certain significance for me. I met one of my exes at a birthday party back in '97 at the Berkeley Marina. That's probably the first time I saw KaBoom fireworks, standing on the grass, cold, across the bay.

Before that, though, was another cold moment on Berkeley's marina under the whistles and bangs of fireworks. The summer after my freshman year in college, I went to see the Independence Day festivies with my first love and his friends. We were dating, but he didn't want anyone to know, so I was acting platonically towards him. (That was a huge clue right there to get the hell out of the relationship, but I was young and stupid!) Looking up at the sparks, I was reminded of Edith Wharton's _Summer_, which I read in high school.

In that novella, the female protagonist, a sheltered small-town native, travels to the city with her love interest, a cosmopolitan man living in her town only for the summer. While in the city, he takes her to see the fireworks and they kiss for the first time. Afterwards, in the hustle and bustle of getting through the crowd, she realizes they will never truly be together, they're just too different. He is urban, she too rural; she understands nothing of his world and is ill-prepared to deal with the stresses and politics of urban high society. In her home town, she was the best thing around, but she lacks the fortitude and sophistication to stand against the more worldly women outside her town's borders. At least that's how I remember it.

That July 4th evening, I thought about how I was never going to be what he wanted. He came from an LA neighborhood of millionaires (literally) with ocean view estates. I hailed from a small, unremarkable East Coast town where they still have town hall meetings and my family's house is found on a little stick of a dead-end road off a dead-end road. There were only 3 houses on my street when I was growing up.

It was a really sad moment for me. Yes, he totally broke my heart.

Nowadays when I watch fireworks, I don't wallow in those old insecurities, but I do think about how different my life is. I'm glad I'm not quite so stupid anymore. Above all, I try to remember what it was like to be young even if it did make you more vulnerable to being hurt.

So I think this year's is going to be my last visit to the KaBoom festivities. The main drawbacks are the crowds, the lack of anything to do other than watch whichever performer is playing at the moment or buy overpriced festival food, and the crowds. Did I mention there are an insane number of people who squeeze onto the pier?

I still want to watch the fireworks, but next year I'd like to be on a boat on the water, sipping champagne with raspberries after a culinary feast, watching the lights in the sky above the bay while getting a shoulder massage... One can always dream...

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P.S. You can watch a video of the fireworks from: http://www.kfog.com
The music is better in the video than it was live (technical problems at the beginning of the show made the music go silent a few times, and there were other various sound problems), but the full visual impact just can't be conveyed through digital media. You've got to experience the whole sky light up right in front of you out of the night to know why this was the best fireworks show I've ever seen.

P.P.S. What ever happened with my first love and me? We're friends and have been for several years (that was over a decade ago) even though he was a total jerk for a couple years after we broke up. He gave me a really cute Totoro stuffed toy as a belated birthday present a couple weeks back and when you pull its string out all the way and let go, it vibrates while looking at you with it's lidless big-white-circle eyes -- so cute! If you pull the cord out just a little instead of all the way, he does a short "wiggle & jiggle" dance instead. It's intolerably cute!! Sometimes before I go to bed, I make him dance a bit so I get a good laugh before I fall asleep. :)

Seeking Inspiration

Everyone and their brother (except not my brother) has one of these blogs, so I thought I'd try it. Stay tuned, I'm waiting for inspiration to set in before I write more... Btw, if you're wondering what the title of this blog means, ask someone who speaks French. Better yet, if you're female, walk up to them and say, "Je suis une petite cochonne." (juh sweez oon pet-eet ko-shun) Should be good for a chuckle.