Wednesday, May 31, 2006

E is for Engine, F is for Fool

picture it: Playing the boardgame Scattergories on Christmas day about 13 years ago with my much cooler and smarter-than-me older brothers and cousins.

The letter chosen is E. There are many categories I am given that I have to fill all with a word beginning with the letter E.

The plastic hourglass is flipped.

One category is "part of a car". I write the word ENGINE, naturally.

When it comes time to go around and tell what words we have, where novel answers earn you points, but repeated ones dont. No one says engine.

A cloak of doubt that is made from a thick opaque and scratchy material descends upon me.

I insanely think, if no one said "Engine" then I must be maybe I should not mention it.

I scratched it out with my stubby eraserless pencil and earned no points.

I guess if I am foolish enough NOT to say it, then I dont deserve the points anyway,

reconnaissance recollection

the first time i walk into a new place i am always overwhelmed. I have this sensory overload thing that happens to me-i look at surfaces, read posters, absorb the lighting, feel the response of the floor below me and the new space seems to pulse around me. This is probably a nice way of describing anxiety, but lets look at it in a different way for a moment.

This almost crippling feeling of awe and exploration happens in all different kinds of spaces-from looking at a new apartment i might want to live in to if i have decided to go into a different bathroom in the building that i work in.

what i always find funny is how the first time i walk into a place items like books or plants or boxes or faucets seem mysterious and smug. its as if they sense my uneasiness and are turning around to peer at the unbalanced newcomer as they take a moment out of their important day.

But as time goes on and if i end up going to that space every day, i realize that the stairs have nothing to say, the plants have no interest in me at all, the walls just sit there and the water fountain can only give water.

stone of wisdom

Last night we were having a conversation about participating in class and I said that just thinking about answering a question makes me nervous, even if I never end up raising my hand or saying anything.

Then I was talking about how there is always the one person who talks so much in class and seems to have nothing important to say. But I always try to make sure I have a perfect little nugget of wisdom or questioning to present before I speak in class. Which is why I never do.

As I was telling this to the people around me I had this vision of the idea being like a stone tumbling around in my head that I need to methodically wear down and polish, like a stone in the sea, to make smooth and shiny before I show it to anyone. This vision came to me as I was speaking about how I dont like to speak and I didnt share this stone idea with the people around me because I was scared they would think I was strange, but I feel like it would have illustrated my point perfectly. So I am saying it now.

experience experiments

Where you have been and what experiences you have had in life influence what things you like to do, what you think is beautiful and good and what you are satisfied with in your life.

I realized that it might be the same thing with the process of designing something. Where you have been, 10 minutes ago with an all purple background, might influence why when you change it back to white it seems like it works so much better.

Monday, May 29, 2006

peony prose

today i painted a peony while listening to my ipod.

i really must do this more often, it is incredibly relaxing for me.

one of my very favorite things on earth is a peony bud, it is so robust and full of potential.

things about this painting bother me, but i am learning to live with it. nothing could really pay appropriate homage to this flower's grandeur and beauty anyway.

Friday, May 26, 2006

ribbons of light

sometimes the light that comes in through a window makes the room look like there is a poignant moment in progress, even when there is not.

It was 7 o'clock in the evening in the spring, on the east coast and we were in a former warehouse with large, old, clear windows. It was dark inside, we were surrounded by old wood and metal objects and surfaces that created quite a textural bonanza. You got the feeling that the walls had something to say, like the place had had several lives.

This was the first space we looked at to potentially hold our wedding. I must say we were charmed. I felt most like we were inside the pages of a richly detailed, deep and moving novel, the light made it so.

classic Peter Pan syndrome

Where do you draw the line between liking something because it is a classic, like a book or a movie and liking something old because you have trouble moving on and growing and learning about new things?

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

the verdict is in

A very wise young person gave me an idea today, something that I thought was very petri dish worthy.

She remarked that it can be liberating if you know that someone has already made their mind up about you, good or bad. In other words someone might think that you are a little crazy or funny, and it gives you the freedom to act that way... and you might even find yourself playing it up a bit.

so much for not caring what other people think, if everyone really really didnt care what others thought-this world could be chaos.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

absence is essence

When you have not seen someone for a long time I have found that your mind turns them into whatever it wants to, and it becomes more intense as more time passes without seeing the person.

A granule of distaste grows into a bowling ball of disgust as time passes, and the same principal can be at work when you like someone. Hence the saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder" I guess, although I have experienced much much more of the opposite phenomenon.

Then when you finally see the person they seem like an actor playing themselves in a movie and you have to convince yourself that this is the real thing and that the one in your mind is the fake.

But is the idea that you have of the person when they are away the essence of what you really think of them? or is it just time distorting things? time tends to do that.

Sunday, May 21, 2006

enjoy the earth

I was in a cab today and the cab driver starting remarking about the sky and how beautiful the clouds were (nevermind that he was not actually looking at the road.)

Then he starting talking about how he used to be a fisherman and worked by the ocean and how he saw men with suits going to important jobs, who knew things he didnt know... but what they didnt know was that they were part of the earth, they knew, but they didnt REALLY know, they didnt consider themselves part of the natural world, but the fisherman and future cab driver did.

Then he stopped talking and we did too, exhausted by the forced deep thoughts and a few minutes later we were dropped off at our destination. As I stepped out of the cab I said, "well enjoy the Earth" and he laughed so so hard and I was so so happy that I had said that.

Friday, May 19, 2006

girls only

My feelings about single sex education have been dredged up again in honor of the 10 year highschool reunion.

Firstly, your spouses are not invited to the reunion, that is simply ridiculous. It is an all womens reunion. This I just cant seem to get over. Why shouldnt my fiance have the pleasure of interacting with all the bitches who helped empower me so? Wouldnt he want to thank them for giving me strength and making me into such a successful leader?

Which brings me to my next point: If you are really going to be successful and excel then wouldnt it be the ultimate in excellence if you could be in school with boys and STILL do well. Why must there be this separation which breeds a false sense of confidence. Isn't separation admitting that there is a difference in ability possibly. Like saying "well we would not want you to be in class with people (boys) who are so smart in math and science that they would make you feel bad! instead we will run a mediocre math class, but you will never know that it is mediocre in comparison to what the boys are learning because they are not here to show you up. We will make you think that your mediocrity is excellence, when in reality if the entire population was represented here (like it is in the rest of life), you would realize that you are just average.

Like anything, my personal experience has colored my philosophy, and I may very well be one of those people who would have hated highschool no matter where I was... actually I definitely would be, but I still have to hold onto these points as what I see as valid.

Also, I have thought that maybe a group of boys have a better influence on one another in the context of education, maybe in an all boys school learning is paramount to socializing. But in an all girls school, it is a certifiable gossip ring with no good natured man to puncture the nonsense.

I have also thought that girls miss out on the culture of boys at that age, like their music and comics and interests in computers, this all sounds like it is sexist to admit that boys have different interests, because we are supposed to be equal, but I think it is foolish to think otherwise.

I just think about some dorky good natured boy who I could have been friends with from highschool, who I would never have met through just socializing with boys from an all boys school because we were both shy dorks. I could only have made friends with this boy if he sat behind me in class month after month and we talked about chemistry together. There are so many potential fun, wholesome experiences that can happen in school that would have been even more fun and enriching if boys were there I think.

I went to a co-ed grade school and I saw those boys not too long ago and they are the sweetest dorks and we all knew how to say the "Our Father" in Gaelic together, because we learned it together in school.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

lab tech cliche

Today I realized something, it is a complete feeling and something that I can say without hesitation, "I like my job"

I do not dread going to work, I enjoy the actual labor that I do, even if some may find it monotonous, I find it peaceful and relaxing.

There is no one who I work with who annoys me on a daily basis.

I feel respected and appreciated and liked, which is much more than I can say for my last job.

I dont make a lot of money, but it does not bother me. I feel satisfied that my daily tasks fit into a larger picture that may contribute to something important some day.

This post is a cliche, but it is true.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

bus buzz

This evening, I was in one of those busses that has a step up in the back of the bus. I sat in the first elevated seat, felt like I was climbing into some sort of amusement park ride and looked out over the back of the crowds heads and thought, so this is what it would be like to be a fly on the window of of the M4 at 7:23pm?

but then when I got up to leave I banged my knee on the barrier in front of me and realized that I am not quite as discreet and nimble as a fly.

the taste of pity

You know when you run into someone who you haven't seen in years and you ask them what they have been up to lately, which loosely translates into "what is your job?" and they have a crappy job. Not only do YOU think they have a crappy job but it is clear from their reluctant, fragmented explanation and downward gaze that they think so too.

What do you say? do you act like it is a good job and then ask them for some sordid details with an upward lilt in your voice that is almost high pitched enough to shatter the shell of insincerity that has rapidly hardened around you?

I admit to feelings of schadenfreude on occasion in my life, who doesnt, but this situation never gives me pleasure.

I always feel bad.

Maybe I feel bad for thinking that their job is not a good one in the first place, because ideally I think that everyone has a place and I strive to embrace this quote below:

"Whatever you are, be a good one."-Abraham Lincoln.

I think that even if you have to literally shovel shit for a living (which I actually did for a week of my life at the Bronx zoo, but was an unpaid intern to be exact) that if you are a hard worker and feel that you are a part of something, then you should be able to look that bitchy acquaintance in the eye and say, with the confidence of 10 peacocks,
"I Shovel Shit".

I guess it is all relative too because I think I have been on both sides of this.

But does anyone think that it is your duty in small talk situations NOT to impose uncomfortable truths on passing acquaintances, as in: should they just tell me things are great, so I am not made to feel sorry for them when I walk away and into a pot hole that I didnt see coming because I was busy shaking my head and sighing and thinking of "all the lonely people who are thinkin that life has passed them by" (song by America)

and isnt it terrible to pity someone? I have a sad taste in my mouth just thinking about it.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

no comment

Okay so the ubiquitous phony blog comments came back after I deleted them.

So I was forced to change the settings to "no anonymous" comments, only registered users...I hate to do this but I feel I have to since these fake comments appeared pretty rapidly after I deleted them.

why why why would someone do this?


Well the test is over and I am relieved. The scores come back at you on the screen as soon as you press enter and agree to report scores. The best way I can describe how I felt at that moment is this: I am shooting a gun and I dont know if the surface I am shooting it at will cause the bullet to ricochet back at me into my heart, or it will pass through the surface and I will live.

I lived.

"I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life-and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do."
-Georgia O'Keeffe

Now on to actually applying to Grad school and then maybe, hopefully really going to Grad school.

Thanks to you all for listening, now maybe I will have a GRE book bonfire that will light up the entire city and beyond.

Monday, May 15, 2006

once more into the breach...

It will rain tomorrow and I have to be at the test at 8:00. So I will have to give myself credit for just making it there at all.

Please I beg of you, dont ask me how it went. I dont want to waste one more breath on this subject.

I am hoping that my voracious blogging will help me in the writing section.

And truthfully I think that any Graduate program would be lucky to have me, no matter what.

Simply Stunning

I was on Madison avenue today waiting for the bus and I saw a family walk by who were clearly tourists, their windbreakers gave them away.

Mom and Dad, two daughters and oldest daughter's boyfriend. Boyfriend, who we will call Chip was wearing red shorts, red windbreaker and socks and sneakers and holding a brochure of some kind, maybe from a gallery they had just gone to or something.

Chip said, "these celestial maps are simply stunning" and no one heard him except for me, the rest of the family was busy looking in the window of an antique shop. So when they were finished looking, he said it again "these celestial maps are simply stunning"

Now maybe it is because he said it twice, or maybe it is because he did not look suited to use that word: but I thought, is it possible to use the word "stunning" without it sounding pretentious? but I believe I have heard it used in a context where it gently nods to its pretentious roots, but does not overwhelm. But Chip meant every pretentious molecule of it I think.

communication breakdown

One thing I cant stand is when little punk kids yell to their friends who are 3 blocks away and then their friends yell back and so on and so on.

money changes everything

Over the weekend we went to see the David Smith show at the Guggenheim, it was great. It ended today though. Smith began as a welder and then evolved into a sculptor.

His earlier work was playful and dynamic, integrating obvious metal scraps which added character and transformed the mere junk into a richly detailed poem. It was visually complex and seemed to have little secrets that whispered to you as you walked around it.

When he acquired more fame and money, the materials were of a higher quality, but his work just lost a certain something. Maybe people who are willing to pay a lot of money for art do not want to see small gears and ibeams in the sculpture, maybe they want to distance themselves from the world of work which all of these elements represent.

He died suddenly, but has an impressive body of work. There is a picture of him on the brochure and he looks like a serious curmudgeon, I do hope his work brought him some joy though.

We walked away from the museum wanting to drop everything in the street right there and go and draw, paint and sculpt. We asked ourselves why do we need outside stimuli to inspire us? but then we resolved that there is nothing wrong with that really...and i felt lucky to have the opportunity to go to the museum on a random Saturday. New York wins again.

Now only to harness the inspiration so it plays like a song in your head over and over until you actually put it to use.

Friday, May 12, 2006

when pigeons coo

When I was walking to the bus stop today I saw a small pile of grey feathers and sticks on the ground ahead of me, and upon further inspection I realized that it was a tiny tangle of a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest and been flattened on the sidewalk. Its eyes were so big and dead, and even though it is a cliche, it made me very very sad to see a life extinguished so early. It is no way to go...smashed on to Amsterdam avenue in front of a hardware store.

Then as I walked to dinner in the evening I passed a group of pigeons swiftly and awkwardly prancing around in circles like they were wind-up toys. They were making a cooing noise. coo, coo, coo. It was a soft and round sound and it made them seem cute, even though they are dirty and may carry diseases.

I thought of how that tiny dead bird would never get to coo in his or her life, and how they never got a chance to do that strange dance.

Assuming it would grow into a pigeon I guess.

Time travel

As we talked over dinner, drinking wine and dashing swiftly and enthusiasically from one subject to the next we realized that the underlying theme to all of our conversations was that the one precious commodity that all humans have access to, but can do nothing to preserve is Time.

Then we spoke about religion and how people adhere to traditions that were created over 2000 years ago. I thought of two opposing sides of this issue:

One is that the "code of living" that religions set out for people was created so long ago that it could not possibly be relevant today. Then I thought maybe it is possible that these ideas are timeless and that it is truly a testament to the quality of the rules, that they can still apply today. And what made me feel better about this second idea and to connect with it more, I thought of how a good novel survives time, it is a product of the time that it was created in, but some underlying themes can successfully withstand the future and still live on with profound pertinence.

we only have a small window of about 80 years or so to do something that will carry on. Whatever you want to say about religion or any specific religion I am sure Jesus would be proud that his ideas are still carried on today, just like the carpenter who built the chair in the Hatshepsut exhibit would have been proud to know that he made the Met over 3000 years later, wish I could tell his Mom.

sans science

someone pointed out that this blog is not about science, as the name might suggest. So I think in response to this and to benefit me and all who read I will make an effort to comment more frequently on scientific topics.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

snow day

I feel sorry for people who grew up in a warm climate and who never experienced the sheer unexpected euphoria of a snow day.

Most times I would wake up with the expectation of going to school and then I would look out the window all bleary eyed and all the pine trees that surrounded my room were laden with bright snow. I had to squint but then my squint dropped into a smile.

Then we sat by the radio in the breakfast room waiting to hear our school called as a closing. Once we heard our school-it is like we were given a precious gift that I almost didnt want to unwrap because the wrapping was so fragile and beautiful.

So we bundled up and trudged outside into the snow with happy hearts and played until we were too hungry or wet or tired and had to go inside and dry off, slopping slush through the house.

Today I decided to make my own snow day, so I am not at work, and while it is not quite as magical as it once was, it is much needed. Maybe I will even make hot chocolate.

Tuesday, May 9, 2006

earring plugs

Picture it: long dangling hook earrings, that rubber piece that holds them on behind your ear but is not actually part of the earring-is there a more clever name for those things besides "rubber stops"?

Here are a few I came up with: bauble barricade, rubber-rigatoni, petite pacifier, rubberini, tiny terminus...

THIS JUST IN: I heard from a reliable source that they are called "ear nuts", sounds slightly gross, not necessary for such a helpful and discrete object.

library loan shark

Does anyone else find it slightly stressful when someone lends you a book that you have not asked to borrow? This topic was raised at work yesterday, sort of, but I was afraid to expound on it because I was in fear that someone in our small group had lent ME a book several months ago that I never gave back.

I feverishly scanned the crowd of the four other people around me (who were innocently eating birthday cake and trying to think of what benign comment to make next) and I scoured my internal bookshelf for foreign objects... but once I realized that no one in the group had done that to became too late in the conversation to jump in with my uplifting tales of anxiety and shame that I desperately wanted to share like you share sniffs of sour milk.

I know that people are trying to be helpful and to spread information and stories when they force a book on you. I know that people like to feel like they are a source of some information or inspiration to others, but giving books when they arent asked for is just annoying most of the time.

Too many things are assumed. And as my 6th grade math teacher Mr. Caragine used to say, dont assume anything because it makes an "ass out of u and me", astonishingly down to earth for a math teacher. Anyway, the crux of the problem is that it is assumed that you have time to read the book, and most times you dont. Also, it is assumed that you are interested in the very same thing that your friend is. You may have made the mistake of feigning interest in a conversation that has now brought you to this point, with sand rushing through the hourglass and you scouring the shelves of barnes and noble for the cliff notes to some chick lit crap that is littering your shelves.

Then if you wait too long, they ask for it back and then you feel like a real jerk, because not only have you not read it you have let so much time pass that they have started down the road of being offended. This is tragic, dont let it reach this point if you can. Give it back before they ask and thank them profusely and throw in some jacket flap comments to ease the pain. Although I have never been able to do this with any success, but it sounds like a good way to handle it.

There are 4 books on my shelf now that fall into this category, and that is certainly 4 too many.

By the way I need a new book to read, preferably a serious classic novel...any suggestions?

Monday, May 8, 2006

multiple choice

When someone does not do well on a standardized test you always hear things like " I dont test well" etc., whatever that means, but when someone does do well they take all the credit and bury that pride deep inside, they are just superior, like they always knew they were...and this just proves it.

I know because I have been in both places.

It seems logical that if I am going to discount the test completely that I should not feel happy even if I do well, because it measures nothing substantial, which is what I made myself believe when I bombed it. So, at least I would be consistent in my philosophy if not in my scores.

Saturday, May 6, 2006


I went to see the Hatshepsut show at the Met for the second time. It took two trips to really sink in.

Since ancient Egyptian artifacts are so beautifully designed, well crafted and preserved it is much much too easy to forget how ancient they are. Also, they seem quite abundant, especially at the Met, so admittedly I was fighting being de-sensitized. But once I tried to grasp it, it was almost too much to hold.

I realize that the artifacts that we see in the museum are hand picked by curators etc, but I cant believe a society that lived over 3000 years ago was so concerned with design. I suppose that it was their way of being closer to the gods and honoring rulers, like Hatshepsut, to make such exquisite offerings. But they were so flamboyant in a way.

You would think it would be enough to learn to farm, live off of the land, build a belief system and writing system and just soak up the rays of the Egyptian sun and live. But no, there must have been artisans everywhere, everyone must have been a craftsperson of some sort. Even the tools are exquisite. It just amazes me what people found important, what they spent their precious energy on.

Also, it is such a staple of our education to learn about ancient Egypt, but isnt it so interesting to think that they didnt know that their society would be scrutinized and admired 3000 years in the future. As Joe pointed out, can you imagine if the carpenter who built the ivory and wood chair knew that it would last as long as it did and be on display in a museum, he or she would be proud, maybe they are rolling over in their sarcophagus as I write.

I think that the problem with understanding and appreciating ancient Egypt is a problem with time. I think it is almost impossible for us to grasp the amount of time that has passed since 1479 B.C. I have found people always have trouble with one year passing, i.e. "can you believe it has been a year already".

So, it is hard to understand 3000 years as a concept, apart from the society that flourished then. But then when you throw in a gold and turquoise necklace I would be proud to wear today, sculptures that look like they were carved with lasers a week ago, scarabs so tiny and detailed and a civilization cool enough to have a woman as king and my mind is just absolutely blown to bits.

Thursday, May 4, 2006

emily post where are you?

What is the use of being polite when people arent polite in return? what is the point of being the "bigger" person? where does it leave you, except for bigger?

what is the use of being so polite that people think this is how you act all of the time, when its not?

i would rot inside if i was polite all of the time.

and do you thank someone twice if they hold the door for you through a series of double doors? and do you say "god bless you" as many times as they may sneeze, even if some allergic fit is going on? and what does that do for either party?

the potato exists

Paranoia can seem as real and tangible as a raw potato in the middle of the bathroom floor that everyone is telling you is not there.

she came in through the bathroom window

Aside from my intrinsic antisocial tendencies I have discovered that it can be liberating to make a new friend. They see you for who you are, not who you were.

As far as they know you started existing the day they first met you.

It is true that who you were is part of who you are. but it is like you are a house with many doors and windows and people who have known you for a long long time sometimes only know how to get in through the window. but there are all these other doors to get into the house, doors that they dont know exist.

Going in through the bathroom window is not the best way to get in...and just uncomfortable for all involved.

It can be tremendous to have a fresh perspective from a new person, there is just nothing else like it.

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
-Carl Jung (1875 - 1961)

Wednesday, May 3, 2006

remarkable Ralph

I realized yesterday that there is a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote carved into the side of the building that I work in. I have not noticed it before because the block is narrow and the words are large and high, so it is almost impossible to truly appreciate this text because you can never stand back far enough to see it.

As a result of its placement, a substantial tree in the way and not wanting to look stupid- I didnt really get a good look at the quote. So when I got home I went searching for Emerson quotes and didnt find the one on the building, but I found these gems that I just had to share:

"What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say."

"The louder he talked of his honor, the faster we counted our spoons."

"Tis the good reader that makes the good book." (or rather Tis the good reader that makes the good blog)

"A friend is one before whom I may think aloud."

"Always do what you are afraid to do."

"The key to every man is his thought. Sturdy and defying though he look, he has a helm which he obeys, which is the idea after which all his facts are classified. He can only be reformed by showing him a new idea which commands his own."

"If I have lost confidence in myself, I have the universe against me."

"The ancestor of every action is a thought."

"The next thing to saying a good thing yourself, is to quote one."

and last but not least...

"I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."

—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882)

caffeine cynic

I have this suspicion that even though I asked for a decaf cappucinno tonight, that I was given a caffeinated one. Has anyone ever sued a restaurant for this? What evidence do you use?

bunk bum

When I see homeless people in any other city besides New York, they seem like actors to me. Maybe it is something about their handwriting being a bit too neat on the cardboard sign or just that I am New York-centric and think that things arent authentic in other places, even suffering.

Tuesday, May 2, 2006

change is good

I have changed the preferences and opened up the comments to people who dont have a Blogger account...and you can even post a comment anonymously if you want!?

also, I have changed the blog name and added a subhead, what do you think? it is late now and it just feels like sleepy genius.

Monday, May 1, 2006

mystery science theatre 2006

I had an epiphany today.

Often, as you may have read, my epiphanies are not totally shocking brand new realizations. They are more often like slowly approaching waves of goosebumps.

Also, I like to think of them like George Gershwin's music: so catchy and familiar you swear that someone must have written it before he had, but they didnt.

Here it is: There is no mystery to people, the collective world has no secret and they have no answer.

I have always had this vague feeling that everyone else must know something that I dont. I have slinked around the world long enough with this delusion secured firmly in a tiny locket around my neck. But as Joe puts it: everyone just wants to be loved. I think that in some way everything can be traced back to this statement. Why people are good, why people are bad, what motivates people to do things in work and in leisure.

I think that once the above statement is truly embraced, it becomes instantly easier to deal with other people.

People just want to be smiled at and responded to and respected.

I also realized that you have to be acutely aware of how your face and words seem to someone else, because they are responding to your response and it creates this crucial and unique feedback loop. Then before you know it you are thinking they dont like you and it is because they are thinking you dont like them because you are thinking they dont like you because they are thinking you dont like get the idea. It can also be a positive and healthy circuit.

Also, no one has it all figured out. And there is most certainly an inverse relationship between acting like you have it figured out and feeling like you do.

I think we are all just like baby sea turtles awkwardly shimmying our way through the sand, which at times is dry and fluffy, then other times is wet and oppressive. we all have the common burning objective of reaching the cool, rough, deep and mysterious sea which is sure to hold more hardships and questions than the sand we know now.

Now please excuse me as I contact the Dali Lama and inform him of the news.