docoflove1974

Mondays are a different schedule than most. While I'm at home all day, I'm working--it's my day to do anything creative for whichever project needs the most attention, I have online office hours, and tonight I start up a private tutoring for a colleague's son. (Which reminds me, I need to create a document to tabulate the hours and invoice...crap, one more thing to do...) This morning started out at 7...well, to be honest, it started out earlier, as Bella decided that she wanted me up and raring to go. Except that 7 is my time to get up, dear darling furry-butt, and I ain't a-movin' until my alarm goes a-ringin'. So she sat at my shoulders until my alarm went off. Eh, so be it...we had our morning cuddle, and then got moving. 7:30...my windows are open (have I professed my love of springtime in NorCal?), and I'm at the computer, checking the usual sites. I hear a neighbor chopping limbs or something--I should explain here that the neighborhood I live in is one of the original ones for San Jos

What, that people are breaking into newly-constructed homes to add in their decorations?

Yeah, well, see, that's the ticket. If I'm driving....watch out But watching cars go 'round a circle a bazillion times, eh, no good. I don't get that sense of thrill or excitement. I get yawns.

I think most are aware of Habitat for Humanity, and if not then you probably know of a program like it. Essentially, those deserving folk who are down on their luck and need a place to live apply to have a dwelling built for them...with the catch that they must have certain qualifications, and they must put a certain number of hours in to the building of their home. It's a great program, one that's received a lot of warranted attention. So you probably can understand the outcry when you read an article like this one: Habitat for Humanity robbed...a second time Knowing San Francisco as I do, let me just say that the Bayview district isn't exactly the nicest in the jewel that is Baghdad-By-The-Bay. In fact, it's one of the worst districts in the city. Very high crime rate, gang activity, and the like...Candlestick Park, the home of the 49ers (NFL) and previous home to the Giants (MLB), is at the end, and it was always an adventure to drive through there before and after games. And while I certainly applaud the idea of trying to turn around urban blight and make a notorious neighborhood into a livable one, I still can't get out of my head the fact that HH thought it would be a good idea to pick the Bayview. Really? Somehow you didn't think that this would happen? And if not during construction, at the very least once the people move in? I seriously hope that these houses are also being outfitted with the latest burglary alarms, with maintenance and service free to the homeowners.

LOL Good to hear that all is well in Jolly Ol'England, Caldrail. Wouldn't have it any other way, I 'spose. Zurich...I'm only there a couple of hours to change planes, both going and coming. My bigger worry is that long haul from SF to there, and then back...what am I going to do? Actually, it's not a worry at all, and having done a trans-Atlantic trip once before, I have an idea of what will happen. I won't sleep much, which might be to my benefit, seeing as how I land in Rome at 7ish. Eh, a good book, probably my Italian refresher book (I have to remember this language that I haven't spoken in many years), maybe an iPod full of music, and I'll be fine. I promise to wave over Slough when we pass over your place, Mr. C! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

Last night was the first time this year that I slept with the window cracked. Wow, I forgot how great that is. Oh, I perhaps could have done it earlier in the year, but I've opted not to, and instead kept the apartment a bit warmer. I tend to favor warm places in general, which is probably why I like some aspects of the South Bay. It's about 10 degrees (that's Fahrenheit) warmer in San Jos

Ah yes...mine used to love doing that when we lived with my parents. She'll get the chance come summer, when we move to the new place. With the attached garage, guess which fluffy-butt will be sleeping at night in the garage, either on the bonnet or on the boot...she never did have a real preference, as long as it was metal, warm-ish and high up. I think I have something for today's entry...to be continued...

This little ash-burst in Iceland has got some people in paranoid moods of late. Oh, I don't mean those who are traveling--honestly, if I was one of them, I don't quite know what I would do, and as I see it they have every reason to be pulling their hair out. No, I'm referring to the enviro-tards who scream at anyone who even has the audacity to place their plastic cup in the regular trash, instead of bringing it home and put in the recycle bin. Some of the people who take up the same general space I do have been talking about how all this air pollution from the volcano will cause respiratory problems for the next several years. Really? I didn't think there were many respiratory problems now...but I could be wrong. Regardless, air particles will dissipate and be pushed on into the rest of the globe, and I don't really think the sky will fall. And even if it does, what the hell can we do about it? I say bring a lawn chair, prop it up, and watch the fun go by Then there was that one colleague who worried about my trip to Italy. She's afraid my flights are in jeopardy, that they will be canceled. In June. I was about to ask her how in the blue blazes that could happen, especially seeing as how things will be ironed out 2 months from now. Then I thought better of it. Look, I know that it'll take some time to get people sorted out, not to mention to get planes and crews sorted out. But I'm guessing in 7 weeks' time my SFO > Zurich flight will be just fine, thankyaveddymuch.

The funny part about this blog is that I've meant it to be a writing exercise. I wanted to try and write something every day, or at the very least every other day, in order to not lose touch with that side of me. But the last few mornings, I haven't had much, and in fact I've been positively empty. Yet this morning I'm full...well, maybe not full...not quite even half full, but I do feel the need to write something today. It's kinda like being in an exercise routine, and then you have to take a couple of days off. And finally your body screams for some kind of aerobic movement. My brain woke me up 20 minutes early, ready to start with the creative eloquence that is The Language of Love. Now whether it's any good or not.... I found a little surprise at the bottom of the Cheerios box yesterday. Let's be real, I have no children, so I don't buy one box of cereal simply because of the goodies that may or may not lie in the box, so I didn't notice at all that this particular package was supposed to have some sort of toy. So, having finished my box of healthy breakfast food, I noticed a small item at the bottom of the box...it was a race car, a cute, little, cheap plastic race car, meant to promote the upcoming NASCAR season. How cute, I thought. And then in comes Bella, strutting her feline stuff in her precocious way. She's curious as to what I have in my hand, after all it's plastic, and therefore must be approved by her. So, after putting on the labels (because it can't go fast without it's proper labels), I let her smell it. Immediately she takes to it, trying to face rub it and mark it as her own. I put it on the floor and shoot it across the room...immediately Bella's green eyes light up, her butt does the traditional "ooh I'm going to chase that!" wiggle, and off she goes, chasing after the little #3 car. She can't stop playing with it...it's plastic, it's small, it makes rattling sounds (I did mention the lack of quality, right?)...it's right up my cat's alley. First thing she starts to play with this morning? The black #3 car. She's got a new love

By language at least, yes, the Latins and the Samnites were related. The Italic branch of the Indo-European language family is broken up into two major groups: --Latino-Faliscan: which has two major daughter languages, Latin and Faliscan, which was spoken by a tribe to the north of Rome; and --Sabellian: which is the branch of Umbrian (spoken in Central-Eastern Italy, they originally lived in what is now Tuscany, but were pushed east by the Etruscans), and Oscan (the language of the Samnites) We have quite a few inscriptions of both Oscan and Umbrian, mostly from 400-150 BCE, some even in the Latin alphabet. But it seems as the Romans took a stronghold over the region, the other Italic tribes and the Etruscans assimilated or perished. (For more, see Carl Darling Buck's A Grammar of Oscan and Umbrian, with various editions still in print. Info above taken from Robert S. P. Beekes (1995) Comparative Indo-European Linguistics: An Introduction. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing.)

Kings with Latin names is a fact that would point only to aristocracy trying to be, if not in fact, romanized. It is not evidence in and of itself the entire population of Asturias was as thoroughly integrated. However, there seems to be linguistic evidence of heavy use of Latin during the Empire.

Agreed; I would say that Spanish is not the 'closest to Latin' in the phonology department. The palatalization of various consonant groups alone, as well as the reduction of the vowel system, takes it out of the running. Most Romance linguists (including myself) tend to point to Sardinian as 'being the closest', but in all honesty none of the modern languages quite sounds like classical Latin.

What a very weird night of sleep. Usually I'm one to conk out at whatever hour, sleep the entire night without much bother...in fact, I've been told that I more-or-less find one position and stay there for most all of the night. But last night...ugh. A night full of the oddest visions, scenes and sounds, ranging on various topics, and I'm still up at 7:30 in the morning. One dream had me going crazy, literally. And I knew what I was doing, too...so I go to talk to my ex, who is a psychologist. He tells me that I need...*boom* I'm awake. Dammit, that didn't help me at all. Next dream had me doing something, then my cat Bella racing in...but we're not at our current place, rather at some other house that I don't recognize. She's trying to get my attention, Lassie-style, so I follow her until I see...*boom* the dream has ended, and while I don't awaken, I definitely stir in bed. There were a couple of others, and I don't recall them, but it definitely cased me to partially awaken several times in the night. And yet, when I woke up for good, I was relatively free of tiredness. However, I don't rule out the possibility of taking an afternoon nap, particularly as it's supposed to be a stormy day. Something about rain pouring down, a nice warm blanket, and a nap, they're a great match.

Baseball season is back! Wheeeeeeeeeeee! The grand spring tradition is here! Hey now, I love all sports (and I don't consider golf, bowling, or race car driving to be sports; they're amusements), but baseball always seems to tug at my heart strings a bit more. My Giants are 4-0--an amazing feat for a couple of reasons. One, well, they are the only undefeated team left (162-0, baby!...oh, yeah, right). But more importantly, compared to last year's DISMAL start, this is positively amazing. I'm not saying we'll go all the way and win the World Series, but you never know. I'm just saying. This means, however, that the return of the absolute worst TV announcers in all of sports is here, too. Joe Buck is the son of one of the best in the business-- . Joe doesn't have as much talent in sum as his father did in his pinky finger. And then there's Joe's analyst partner, Tim MacCarver, who is positively the most redundant, most unintelligent person behind the mic. He's never been good, ever; I've been listening to baseball since, well, before I was born, and I've never heard anyone worse than MacCarver. He's never improved his style, his commentary or his delivery...he still comes off as the catcher who's been run into a few too many times. Oh wait, he is. And yet Fox Sports puts them on the Game of the Week every Saturday...gah. On the other hand... is back...hard as a Giants fan to appreciate ANYTHING from Dodger-land, but Vin might be the best ever. Oh, yeah, and we have our own Hall of Famer, Jon Miller, who is so incredibly smooth. Of the 'younger generation', he might be the best; there's no question why ESPN has tapped him for over 20 years as the voice of their nationally-broadcasted Sunday night games. There are some great radio and tv announcers all over--the Giants and the A's both have great teams (no, I'm not biased ), and I used to love listening to (he of the Hank Aaron, homerun #715 call, doncha know) when I lived in Austin. Oooooh, Bob Uecker...he's been underrated for years nationally; I think because so many beer ads and wrestling appearances, people forgot how great he is in calling a game. Joe Castiglione calls a beautiful game for the Red Sox. And lest you think that sons cannot follow the footsteps of their fathers in the world of broadcasting, let Marty and Thom Brennaman be a reminder of how good you can have it (although most Cubs fans don't agree). There's something magical about either listening to or watching a game, bringing back so many memories for me. Memories like...being able to afford going to the game. I can't believe how damned expensive the tickets are. It used to be that the cheap seats might cost you $15, and max for the day you'd spend no more than $30. Um, yeah. Now the bleacher seats (which are no longer the cheap seats; those would be the nosebleeders) are $30 alone at AT&T Park, where the Giants call home. The train ride round trip from San Jos

I got a couple of quid on the Dragon Lady...gotta hunch on this one.

I'm an optimist who hates to lose. It might not sounds complementary, but it's true. I despise losing, and I become severely put-off when I come across a situation that stymies me completely. And that's the key here--if I can find a glimmer of positivity, then I don't feel like I've totally lost. I can get over the temporary set back, as long as I know that I can still see an avenue to get what I want. I can will myself through the toughest of times, provided that I can see that light at the end of the tunnel. This lack of quit in me keeps me chugging along in something when the more faint of heart will give up, because I know that this tunnel will lead me to what I want. I'm not just the Little Engine That Could, I'm the Little Engine That Will. I can't really accurately describe how frustrating it has been over the last couple of years. The cut backs to education have been so severe, and yet because I make "too much money" in the eyes of the unemployment office, I can't even get partial unemployment benefits. But I work quite a few hours per week, and getting a true second job would require more time than I have to give. I have private group courses, and while they are great injections of funds, they are short-lived, and people are not continuing simply because they were looking for an easy-way-out to learning a foreign language, only to find out that there isn't one. Despite the evidence to the contrary, many people still feel that somehow doing a bare minimum of work will still allow them to learn this new skill. It's maddening...and it's killing my bottom line. So do I give up some areas of my life in order to get ahead? Or do I stay within my profession, and suffer? I guess it would be different if I knew there was a plethora of full-time jobs out there, just waiting to be filled. But there aren't. And it's not just me being picky about the job or about the location; in my field there is almost nothing out there, and the competition is so great. More and more there are temporary positions, which I tend to frown upon--the expectation is that you will have a heavy load, will still publish, oh yeah, and you will be cut at the end of your contract (which is usually 1 year) and you have to do the dance all over again. Even in looking at the 'teaching colleges' (where you don't have to worry about publishing as much) or community colleges, there is no money to hire, which means there are so few jobs out there. It makes this dream of mine look increasingly unlikely...that light is fading. But maybe there's another one on the way? Maybe there's a different tunnel to go through, a side track that will lead to that position I have dreamed of and worked towards. One never knows...but something inside me is screaming that I can't give up yet, because something is about to change. I sure hope that this engine can keep chugging along.

Today's Yahoo! Horoscope gave me a big chuckle: I love the possibly disconnected and definitely disjointed comments. The plans for the day are to go for a bike ride, have lunch with a good friend, teach a private class, and then relax. That's it. Maybe there's something else in the offing that will be fortuitous. Or not. Spending money isn't much of an issue right now...I have none to spend, so it's not much that I have to worry about. Eh, we shall see.

Seems like instead of this Eagles song, you should have put the Tom Jones classic on..."You can leave your hat on..."

On Saturday I went out on a first date with a gentleman. It wasn't an eventful date--in fact, it was positively boring and did not lead to an acceptance of a second date--but it brought to mind something I find completely useless. This person told me he never cusses, hates cussing, thinks it shows the denigration of our society...yet will use an "eff" to replace the proverbial f-word (aka "eff this, I'm gone). I'm sorry, isn't that the same thing? When I was a kid, my parents did everything they could to not allow us to swear. I would routinely get my mouth washed out with soap, my mother hoping that would deter me from saying bad words. It never did work. But the point is, we really couldn't say the 'alternatives'; there was no 'darn it', 'shoot', 'crap', 'heck' or any other seemingly milder alternatives. My parents figured that if we weren't allowed to say them, we wouldn't try and sneak in the real versions. Of course, they cussed--my father more than my mother, but even my grandmother was guilty of it--which meant to my brothers and I that we could, too...just that we had to sneak it in. As for me now, yes, I do cuss, but I make an effort not to do so in certain situations. Certainly when I'm first getting to know someone, I don't cuss around them; I rein it in. There's only one cuss word that will raise my hackles immediately; my upstairs neighbor Hank knows this, and will purposely 'avoid' it. Instead of saying this word, he'll say the phrase, "see you next Tuesday." (The phrase duplicates letters in whole or in part of that word, which, by the way, rhymes with 'punt'.) He rarely uses that term, and while I appreciate the fact that he won't say it around me, even when he uses the euphemistic phrase I don't really like it. Anything else is fair game to be used by me or around me...but in moderation, and in the appropriate situation. As my father preached, you can use that so-called f-word when you are in sudden and unexpected pain--think slamming your foot into the corner of a table leg--but even then, just holding in the word and just emitting a loud, painful cry is much better. He's right...yet he knows that he's the worst offender of this rule himself. The moral of the story: if you're going to cuss, then cuss (appropriately). If you are going to avoid cussing, then don't use the alternative and say you abhor cussing. No double standards, dammit.

I have no idea why, but lately I've had a string of dreams involving my ex. Each time the dream starts out the same, but always takes a different turn. Sometimes it's a good turn, sometimes it's a worrisome one, but always ending right at the time my alarm goes off. Dammit, I never get resolution. So yesterday I decided that this had to be some omen that something was wrong with him, and set about texting him quickly. I would have called, but I know that he usually is at work, and since he's a psychologist, well, it's not like I can bug him while he's working; somehow I don't think his clients would be appreciative. He responded later that day, saying that everything was "strikes and gutters," that he was just fine. "Strikes and gutters." He used to say that frequently when he wanted to not talk about life. It meant to me that life was his normal--plenty of good with plenty of bad, and not much general pleasantness. But, since he won't tell me that something is really wrong, I left it. I figured I showed interest in him and his well-being, and there wasn't much else to do there. But there's still this nagging feeling...ugh. I think there's going to be more dreams.

Hmmm...one would mistake you for an old man with that last tidbit

Today is the beginning of...well, it's Spring Break for me, nothing huge. But it's still a bit of vacation time. There are no major plans this year, as the budget and smaller income has reduced my options. But at the very least I hope to go into San Francisco a few times and really enjoy myself. Among the activities: --Going to the De Young Museum at the very least, as they have a King Tut exhibition that is supposed to be pretty good. Besides, I haven't gone there since they reopened a couple of years ago. --Going to the beach at least once, as the weather is supposed to be fantastic (after a rainy Easter Sunday). --Going to lunch with a couple of friends...perhaps even a larger get-together. Oh, and the usual one: a bit of work. Not much, but something to finish up so that the end of the semester will run pretty smoothly. And as we change the calendar over to April, I now start getting really excited for the summer. It won't be like any other summer I've ever had, that's for sure!

How many students will try to fool the professor...update at 11. (AM...Pacific Daylight Time) The experiment ended early...I'm off coffee again. Yesterday I didn't feel like coffee, considering that the day before my tongue was slightly swollen all day and I felt a hair jittery. I know there's a bit of caffeine in decaffeinated coffee, but clearly 3 days in a row my body was saying "basta!" So yesterday I went back to milk, this morning it's red rooibos chai tea. This is something that my body likes; yesterday I felt normal again, and today, well, who knows. Last day before 'Spring Break' begins...since I don't teach on Fridays, it's easy. The sanitation department decided to give me my Easter present early, as at 5am there was a slamming of someone's garbage dumpster very loudly. This is not normal for Thursdays...and I was rudely snatched from an amazing dream of being in Rome with my love (whoever that is...as of now this is not known), at the Trevi Fountain, making a wish. I got a little more rest, but was up at 6:30am instead of my usual 7:15. So this will be a very weird day. It's also one of only a couple of days in the next week where we're scheduled not to have rain. I guess I'll have to make the most of the afternoon. Perhaps a twirl around on the river walk/bike trail. Or a nice nap in the sun...either one would be fine.

It's the 31st of March, 2010. Three months have already gone by in this year, and I really can't tell you where it's all gone. I knew that this would a very hectic year, what with work, work and work, but it's unreal how busy I've been. The good news is that this week and the one coming are times for me to rest, do a very little bit of catch up, and enjoy life here in NorCal. I'd sit here and say, "I'm ready for whatever life has to throw at me," but since I'm pretty much broke, well, that's not going to be uttered. Instead I'll say: "I'm ready to live life today, and tomorrow." There, not very threatening, right? I just booked my hotel room for Rome; 3 nights at a small hotel, just to the SW of Termini (the rail station). That was done on purpose; I wanted to be in walking distance of the station, and still be in walking distance to the Forum and that area. The travel guides that I have warned that it's not the absolute best of neighborhoods, and I understand that. However, there seem to be a ton of pretty good reviews on TripAdvisor, and in all honesty I'm looking for a place that's close, someplace reasonable, and someplace to lie down at night. Since I'm traveling alone, I'm not planning on going out at night--I'm not that stupid. The coolest thing ever is going on Google Maps and going to the street level in the neighborhood of the hotel, and seeing for myself how the lay of the land. Ok, there's a little grafitti on the building across the street from my hotel, but it's really not bad at all. It's right across from a piazza, there are several pizzerie and trattorie very close by. I think I'll be alright. Actually, I'm really geeked about this trip. I can't wait to see all of this! Ok, off to go run a million errands. I got paid today, which means that that money gets spent today on bills, refilling the pantry, etc. Hopefully the rain stays away until this afternoon, when I have to teach.

Wow...wonder what things will look like in June, if they will have any of that re-opened.