back to the "real world"

this was the first week of the rest of my (foreseeable) life. that might sound a little scary, but it's actually quite comforting. there's no end point and no final goal to be attained, and for now i'm right where i want to be, so i can just focus on making the most of every day. it's such a relief, following the perpetual guilt and inadequacy of grad school. in some ways it's like the difference between dating and being in a committed long-term relationship. i've already found the temptations are similar, too. this morning i got an e-mail from a professor at the University of Amsterdam saying that i'd be a great fit for an open post-doc position there. i'm not thinking about leaving my new job, but being committed doesn't mean that other options stop being attractive.

the Real World Welcome Committee has done its job from as far away as Hong Kong (thanks everybody), but let's be honest, it's a stretch to call what i'm entering the real world. first of all, i work in Silicon Valley, which is host and home to many rich, eccentric, and/or mildly autistic engineers. you see things here you wouldn't anywhere else. on my first day, i sat looking out the front window of the shuttle bus as we sat in traffic on 101. in front of us was a shiny, mint-condition, red PT Cruiser with a native american-themed vanity plate and two stickers in the back window. one was a picture of a dream catcher, the other read “I Y VMWare”. a camoflage-sleeved arm held a cigarette out the window.

second of all, it's unfair, even by Silicon Valley standards, to call Google the "real world". i'm so pampered that, on my first Friday afternoon, i actually felt a little sad that i had to leave for two days. weekends mean i have to feed myself again and sit on a cold toilet seat.

but don't worry, that faded once Friday night got underway. in fact, i'm loving this notion of a "weekend", it's like getting a bite-sized vacation every week. and i think my two-week in-town vacation between Hawaii and starting work was good preparation for the weekends. for one, i learned how to cope with a stretch of free time in my natural habitat without triggering my guilt response. (perhaps unfortunately that laid-back attitude extends to getting blog posts up in a timely manner.)

now that it's Sunday afternoon, i am heartened by the thought that i'm going back to work tomorrow morning and i'm almost looking forward to getting up at 6am to catch the early shuttle. if i'm going to be working a 40-hour week for a paycheck, i guess i can't ask for much more than that.

pineapple tidbits

i'm two days back from my two-week trip to Hawaii. i woke up this morning again not knowing where i was for a moment and then feeling a little disappointed to discover i was in my own bed. the trip was better in every way than i had anticipated, but i couldn't help but compare it to the trip to Greece (more entries on that still pending).

in Greece, i was alone for almost the entire trip, separated from nearly everyone by a language i don't understand, while on this trip i shared a house with 10 friends and my alone time coincided with my limited unconscious time. in Greece, i had my choice of what to do, eat, and see, while in Hawaii decisions were made by committee. it was one of the most informed, effective committees i've ever seen, but a committee nonetheless (picture of one deliberation at right). in Greece i was responsible for only my own entertainment and could change my mind on the spur of the moment, while in Hawaii i was the driver of one of the three rental cars and the owner of the only in-car iPod hookup which bound me to the desires and needs of others (and there are strong opinions when it comes to music choices). my time in Greece was inward and meditative, while in Hawaii my energy was almost always focused outward, which was sometimes stressful. when i'm surrounded by friends i can't help but attend to and be strongly affected by their moods and amusement, and there were many moments of tension and disagreement. i kept a journal in Greece. i didn't even send postcards from Hawaii.

the question this raised in my mind was, which did i like more: being alone or having the benefits and drawbacks of company? and i realized this isn't just a trivial travel-related question. i am single and living alone for the first time in my life, and over the last 14 months i've come to rather enjoy the perks of this lifestyle. the thing is, while there were a few moments of frustration and strife on the trip, i am deeply grateful to those with whom i shared the many fantastic moments, and those bright spots cast all the rest in a warm glow. hands down, i would take companionship any day.

so that's the big thought. here are snippets for some of the highlights of the trip: "nonacid" white pineapple (the "champagne of pineapples"). banyan trees. floating in warm ocean water, watching the sun set behind kiteboarding sails. late-night games of mafia. the most sincere, touching, and unique wedding i have been to. really good mai tais, blue hawaiians, and lava flows. watching a sea turtle swim. partying all day on a sandbar, surrounded by ocean. doing karaoke with the local characters in Kona. sucking on fresh sugar cane. walking on the crater of a breathing volcano. a full rainbow across a barren lava field. tons of laughter and good conversation. finally getting to bond with long-time acquaintances.

but still i haven't seen liquid hot magma, dolphins, or a big waterfall up close. and i need to work on my surfing skills. so, who wants to go with me next time?

please report unattended baggage

my trip to the DC area this week began with a 4am Bayporter pickup. it would have been 3am, but i had words with the operator (why on earth would i need 2 hours to get through Oakland airport before the sun is even up?). still, 4am hurts.

i get to OAK, scarf down a breakfast burrito and wait at the gate, resting my tired head in my hands. i look up, and count the young children. it occurs to me that there's no way i'm going to sleep on this plane, which means i won't get thesis work done either. weariness is setting in, then inspiration strikes. back up to the counter. yes, i have enough miles. yes, they have first class seats open on both legs. i relax instantly. now if only i'd planned ahead, i would have saved room for the mimosas and fresh-made french toast.

something about first class makes me feel very strange. is it the lovely, free wine served in a real, stemmed glass? or the napkin laid down before my hand-cooked meal is presented? it doesn't make sense, these aren't very luxurious things. it isn't that i stick out, it actually isn't all white business men. there are a couple college-aged girls in sweats and an older couple that could have been a quieter version of George Castanza's parents, among others. but i still find myself thinking, maybe i should have put in my expensive earrings or put on make-up. or showered. maybe it's because i'm thinking of all the souls riding in the back, wishing they had a drink of water. i overcompensate for my guilt by being more deferential than usual. i thank my seat-mate something like 10 times for letting me go to the bathroom.

from Reagan airport i hop on the Metro. when i'm on public transportation and i don't have something to read, i like to occupy myself one of two ways. either i sneakily observe details about other people or i stare off at a point in the distance and try to look like i'm contemplating something deep so that, if anyone else is observing me, they'll wonder what it is i'm thinking about. joke is on them, though, i'm just thinking about how to make then wonder what i'm thinking about. sometimes i get really into it, like i'll lean my head against the pole and stare off, squinting my eyes and pursing my lips, but just a little. really, i doubt anyone is actually paying attention, but i'm amused. i have another game kinda like this i play when i have to wait at the DMV.

i make it to my mom's house, and the social whirlwind begins. in the next 3 1/2 days, i'll drive all over the county and into Maryland to squeeze in quality time with my mom, dad, sister, cousin, college friends + baby, and high school friends (plus helping my sister with a catering gig in Baltimore), and in the gaps i'll try to post to the blog, maintain e-mail correspondences, and keep up with NPR before it swallows my hard drive. oh, and finish my thesis, which i've promised to give my committee in a week.

postscript: i didn't get around to tying in the title when i first posted. while i didn't leave or lose any suitcases, i did spend a good part of this trip thinking about my unattended baggage, perhaps spurred by hearing that message repeated a dozen times while i was waiting to board my flight. heavy on my mind was a new friendship, one that has been steeped in murky waters from the start, and an old friendship, which is simultaneously one of the most meaningful and most painful relationships of my life and has probably affected every relationship i've had since i graduated from high school. i sat at the gate, thinking, perhaps we should have that announcement playing throughout our daily lives, barely audibly, in a sweet, soothing voice. it could be a gentle reminder to sort our shit out.

the other inspiration was an article i read on the plane in The Week titled "The land of lost luggage" (there was an Atlantic Monthly article by the same title from back in 2002). where does lost luggage go? Scottsboro, Alabama, as it turns out. (as the article points out, in the parlance of the industry, it's not "lost", it's "unclaimed", as though the owner decided they didn't want it any longer.) there, United Baggage Center, a family-run monopoly since 1970, buys the bags by the pound and sells off the contents in a department store filled with lost treasures. among others, the article lists Dolce & Gabbana handbags, a 41-carat emerald, ancient Egyptian artifacts, used underwear, the guidance system for an F-17, and MC Hammer's concert backdrop.