bentangle

I’m going to write this one before bed rather than after as tomorrow will likely be packed with, well, packing, checking out, and making my way to the airport for my long trip home.  It has been a busy week and I look forward to the brief respite coming ahead (emphasis on brief).

Today went smoothly.  I got more substantial information out of the conference sessions presented today (I also found that standing rather than sitting helped prevent ennui-induced sleepiness).  Not that I’m surprised, but this conference has affirmed that I’m not good at listening to people talk for long periods of time nor am I especially extroverted.  I found that I often relied upon my colleague (who frankly is more entrenched with the software at hand anyway) to take the lead – I would find myself standing nearby as he struck up various conversations with vendors, hosts, and other attendees.  I would occasionally engage in these discussions, but not often initiate them.  In truth it doesn’t especially bother me to recognize this either – my primary focus this week was training and I don’t foresee myself joining user groups or contributing to forums on such matters.  Sure there is the networking aspect, but I doubt that I’d be looking to move to Sydney, Vancouver, or Poland for my next career step (well, maybe Vancouver – that place seems pretty awesome, as did the dude from EA that we met from there).

Once the sessions were done as we all stopped loitering around the foyer outside the conference rooms, my colleague and I worked out dinner arrangements with some of our other colleagues from the SF office (thanks btw, to my uncle and my friend who recommended a dining venue).  After meandering little Italy and parts of northern SF waiting for our party to coalesce (managing to buy some fudge somewhere in the mix of things), we eventually made it to this very interesting Italian restaurant called The Stinking Rose – a moderately prices, but elegantly trimmed establishment that seems to specialize in all things garlic.  From their famous appetizer of bagna calda (garlic cloves with anchovies stewed in olive oil and butter) to their garlic ice cream dessert, no dish is complete without garlic involved.  Unfortunately before we made it through appetizers, one of our party had to call it a night (I think he drink wine too quickly before getting food in his system), but we soldiered on through various starters and succulent main dishes.  None of us had the room or were brave enough to attempt the garlic ice cream, but I have a feeling we would have enjoyed it under different circumstances.

So tonight I spend my last night of quiet hotel solitude.  I will be sad to go since it seems I was just getting adjusted to being here.  I’ll be more sad that I will only have a day at home before I hit the road once more for another conference week away.  Given that I will be readjusting to eastern time and I will be sharing a hotel room next week, my travelogue may not be as in depth or as frequent.  But only time will tell.  Now if you will excuse me, there is an empty king-sized bed beckoning to me.

I seem to have found the secret to westerly jet lag recovery – alcohol.  Now if I could just get rid of this hangover…

Yesterday went smoothly comparatively speaking.  I made it through the day without needing a nap (though some of the conference sessions threatened to force me into one).  The commencement was great, and the 5-minute lightning talks by various sponsors about their products were fun (especially since they let us text vote on each vendor’s performance – I think the best presenter got something for free, but I can’t remember what).  But then I made some poor session choices and felt my attention and wakefulness slipping, so I skipped the last 2 sessions and retreated to my room to read and relax.

Drinking last night seemed to be inevitable – I was invited to no less than 3 parties (2 of which were sponsored).  The first was the official conference party which included free food and drinks and apparently a RockBand competition with the host (I was tempted to sign up, but didn’t feel I was skilled enough for it).  I stayed for about 15 minutes of it before I got pinged by the people from my company’s SF office to come out and food and drinks with them – so I went (I’ll talk an evening of drinking with a small group of people I know over one with a crowd of strangers).  After a handful of drinks, including a few shots, and some appetizers and a lot of laughing we dispersed.  On my way back ‘home’ I came across party #3 – the remnants of the first party heading for an after party around the corner.  I considered it, but didn’t have the energy left for it.

So after said festivities, I made it back to my room, wound down, and hit the sack just shy of midnight … and didn’t wake up until my alarm went off at 6:30.  I’m hoping that coffee and breakfast will help clear the headache and other post-drinking symptoms.  But I’ve had worse mornings after and this one is worth the mild suffering.

I’ll admit that this book was not at the top of my reading list.  I’ve been reading a few series’ of books and found myself zooming through a few books faster than expected, leaving me with nothing on hand to read.  While I was itching strongly to run to the nearest bookstore to pick up the next volume in of something else, my wife suggested I take a detour and read something we already owned that may not normally fall on my radar.  She had read this book recently and found it interesting and thought-provoking and suggested I give it a try.  And so I did.

First, Audrey Niffenegger’s debut novel is not what I would have expected.  The novel is composed as if it were a collection of diary entries from the two main characters – Henry and Clare.  And while you might assume that a book about a man who experiences many parts of his life out of order would suffer from spoilers or paradoxes, this story suffers from neither.  The way that the author unfolds events – even events that come from the past or the future – there is no truth revealed before its time and no instance of discontinuity.  So above all else, I have to give Ms. Niffennegger kudos for weaving the tale of such a non-conventional and disorganized romance in such a fluid manner.

As for the substance of it, while it is easy to assume that this is a story about a man who randomly travels through time and the consequences thereof, it is just as equally about his wife and how his travels impact her life.  And despite the supernatural twist, many of the struggles that Henry and Clare traverse are life and relationship struggles that are common and easy to relate to.  Whereas I cannot travel through time, I can certainly relate to many of the thoughts and emotions Henry experiences as a son, a man, and a husband.

I am aware that a movie was made of this book – a movie I may opt to watch in the near future as a result (and I couldn’t help but picture the main characters as the actors who played them in the film).  But I have the expectation that while there is plenty to visualize well in a film, there will be important elements missing from it.  There are too many instances in the book of thoughts, fears, and emotions being expressed that wouldn’t necessarily come across visually.  There is something about narrative writing that works best on the page and not as well on the screen.

In summary, I was pleasantly surprised with how much I enjoyed this book.  It had me near tears on more than one occasion (both of sorrow and joy).  While it may not have been on my list of books to read, it is certainly on the list of books I’m glad I read.

Once again, I am sitting and writing due to my displacement-borne insomnia.  I will likely fully adjust to the time zone shift by the time I am leaving to go home.  In the meantime, I will persevere with the aid of caffeine and sunlight as my guides.

Yesterday after reading my way to a respectable hour of the morning, I decided to start planning my day.  It was the only day in this trip that I really had mostly to myself – the rest to follow will be heavily scheduled with classes and sessions and the various other activities that are common to conferences.  I opted to start with breakfast on my way to visit my company’s local office.  After some very good French toast at the counter of a bustlingly busy Mel’s Diner, I ventured on to the office (actually I ventured to where Google Maps told me the office was only to find it was no longer there – after a couple phone calls I got my bearings).  It was an odd juxtaposition to the office I’m used to – I’m not sure what the current count is, but I know that our PA office houses more than 100 people and is often noisy in multiple ways (conference calls, industry climate control, and regular chatter), whereas the SF office only boasted a headcount under a dozen (I’m sure there were people out, but not a lot) and was a lot quieter than I’m accustomed to.  But the people there are great and in the times where it wasn’t silent, the spirit that I’m used to was there.

After spending the day catching up on emails and issues (there are always issues) – a day that seemed much longer than it should have been (me and my chrono-displacement) – I opted to ignore my fatigue and be a tourist for the evening.  I figured it might be my only chance to do so.  I started by catching the F line up to Fisherman’s Wharf.  I walked Pier 39, took in the sight of dozens of sea lions basking on floating docks nearby, and enjoyed a nice seafood dinner with a view of Alcatraz.  After doing some gift shopping for the kids, I decided on 2 additional stops before calling it a night – a bookstore (I’m nearly finished the book I’m reading and need to be prepared for the long flight home) and Ghirardelli Square.  I hoofed it to both destination and considered keeping an eye open for a shoe store as I went to get a good pair of sneakers.  After watching the sky progress through the various phases of sunset over the bay, I found a cable car to carry me back to my temporary home.  Funny – of all the walking I did, I seemed to have missed all of the hills that are so telltale of the area … that is until the cable car ride.  It seemed that the route I was on aimed to hit every slope in town.  It was pretty impressive that the old, bumpy, and noisy box that was our carriage could navigate such grades simply on the electric power provided through the lines above.

I still haven’t made it to the Pacific and I’ve only seen the Golden Gate from a distance, so I don’t consider my adventures complete.  Hopefully time will permit me some additional travels during my stay.  And hopefully I can manage to adjust my sleep schedule before I simply have to let it slide back to normal.  In the meantime, I must get myself some coffee and prepare for the day ahead of me.

I was up last night enjoying my double-shot of fake news, and found myself surprised by Stephen Colbert.  Okay, that on its own is not surprising – his brand of humor revolves around being startlingly if mockingly conservative and I for one get and enjoy the joke.  But no, he was in the midst of an interview with the band Vampire Weekend and brought up a reference to one of their lyrics about the Oxford comma.

If you are not familiar with the Oxford comma (I hadn’t been familiar with it by that name until last night myself), it is the final comma before “and” or “or” in a list if 3 or more items (e.g., apples, bananas>,< and cantaloupes).  I’m sure most of you could probably care less about this matter, but its necessity has apparently been refuted and vacillated over the years and I have actually had discussions on this matter with people and happen to share Colbert’s expressed opinion on it.  Apparently the modern American convention is that it is assumed and thus unnecessary.  But traditionalist, Oxford scholars, Stephen Colbert, and myself believe that its inclusion or exclusion change the meaning of the phrase as it is possible to have compound elements within such a list (e.g., ham and cheese, peanut butter and jelly, or tuna fish).

Again, I admit that this is a fairly minor matter and why I have such strong opinions on it I cannot really explain.  But it was interesting to witness such a juxtaposition as this subject matter being discussed between a fake pundit and a young rock group whose music intones nonchalance.  Certainly there are less trivia matters in the world than proper comma use, but I can’t help but be given pause be such matters.  Perhaps it is my affinity to debate any subjects that may have no right or wrong side.  Perhaps in a world where it is easy to feel like the reach and longevity of our impact on it may be minimal, rhetoric can seem as important as anything else.  Or maybe I should just start going to bed earlier.