neonleonb

Last Thursday there was a beautiful sunset, and as I admired it from my tall building in downtown Berkeley, I noticed there was a light drizzle in the sun's glow. I dashed to the roof, and indeed I was correct to expect something pretty. I didn't, however, expect anything quite so good as this:



A perfect double rainbow, the first rainbow I've ever seen in Berkeley. And just inside the inner rainbow, without any space, there was the hint of a third rainbow. I'm not sure what would cause that, but I'm pretty sure it was really there.

Glorious.

I'm as happy as I can remember being lately, as happy as I've been since the last time I began dating. On the one hand, it's a momentary thing brought on by a good meal and some mango nectar, but on the other hand it's been a good weekend.

Sure, there were some people who were annoying--I was amazed to rediscover my ability to really be irked by a person's tone of voice. But still, the lessons were good, and last night's astounding dances were worth the entire cost of the workshop. I've only ever been quite so on once before. I was on fire! I was amazing! The people who walked away from me unimpressed were the easily-dismissed exceptions.

My favorite quote was from an instructor named Ogden. He and Amanda were teaching us about leading from non-traditional body parts, like by touching our partner's shoulders or wrists. But he cautioned us about not getting too focused on using wrists: "Wrists are good as friends. But hands...!" It was the funniest moment of the weekend, which was hard after Topher and Mike's class.

I just got my bike serviced at The Missing Link, Berkeley's co-op run bike shop. It was one of the wisest decisions I've made in recent history.  My bike is easier to pedal, though that wasn't terribly obvious on the 5 blocks I rode it so far. What was most striking was the way it shifts perfectly now. It used to click a bit, and have trouble getting into certain gears. Now it changes gears like a dream! I'm delighted.

It's a common subject of discussion this time of year--how the tendency is for costume shops to sell "sexy" women's costumes. Not "nurse" but "sexy nurse", not "cat" but "sexy cat".

I dressed up not as a mad scientist, but as a sexy mad scientist.



Elena did my amazing tattoos.

Apparently I still need to learn to use my guitar correctly.

I consider myself a member of the blues community, here in the Bay Area, and our community has some shining stars. Chief among them are the attractive young women who dance so very well. We also have some photographers, and I've noticed that the photographers do photo shoots of the attractive young women. Just up and out of the blue, the photographers take free (and quite good) glamour shots of them.

I find myself intensely jealous. An attractive young woman is gifted with an inherently better life than the rest of us. There are no downsides to her fortune--she can do anything the rest of us can, but she can also inspire desire. As a plain young man, like all men, I will never be so enticing as any of them. No one will ever breathlessly hope to take my picture, nor will they for most people--just these lucky few.

It's not that I don't understand why it's so. It's just that it's so frustrating knowing that, like so many others, I'll always be a second-rate citizen.

Harry Potter was obviously written by a woman. I've been reading/listening to book 5, "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," and I've just passed the point where Harry goes on a date with Cho. They go to a coffeeshop and sit surrounded by couples holding hands and kissing, and Harry's thought is, "she'll expect me to do that too--how terrifying!"

What. The. Fuck.

Have you ever had a chance to hold the hand of someone you had a crush on? Did you lack the desire to do so? If so, you weren't a young man, because I can assure you, the desire to touch and kiss is extraordinary, matched only by the enormous fear of the consequences if you do so and she's unhappy about it. I can't imagine anyone missing that drive; it's so visceral and all-consuming.

However, I'm told that women often engage in sexual behavior that makes them uncomfortable because they feel societal expectation, and so I theorize that this is the reaction a woman might have--indifference mixed with expectation and fear. How else could you explain such a bizarre set of emotions? It's just such an alien reaction to me, though, that I can't understand how it made it into the book. Wouldn't most anyone who read the book immediately wonder, "Why didn't Harry want to kiss her?"

So, my question to you: when you were young, say, 16, and had the chance to kiss someone, were you excited about it or just expected to do so?

Task: fake navy tattoos for Shades of Blues Navy Night
Difficulty: drawing them upside-down on my own arm, one of them left-handed

I think they turned out all right.

Left-handed:


I dared not draw a human form left-handed:

What would Google be like as a person? What about MySpace?

http://www.cracked.com/video_16271_internet-party-2-intervention-myspace.html

I've been helping "mentor" at SwingCal, Berkeley's student-run swing-dancing class. That means I don't teach, but I dance with students and give them tips.

After the class, there's some social dancing, and then too I mostly dance with students. One student was amused by my style and said, "You remind me of Will Ferrell." The question is, is that a compliment or an insult?

Yesterday I was mostly not in a good mood. I was full of that anxious feeling in which I want reassurance, and I was unable to quell it.

But at Shades of Blues, it all went away, and I felt quite confident. I got "dance-drunk," where I didn't have to think too much about the movements and just felt good. I'm glad I went.

I have now sent my resume to 5 different companies, including Willow Garage. I will do more, but it's a start.

I want to say something witty, but that'd just take away from the sign.

Today would be my mom's 55th birthday.

Half of my parents & grandparents died of cancer in their early to mid fifties. Of Ruth, Sam, and me, will we all escape that fate? Will treatment improve much in the next few decades? We'd better hope so.

My new phone number is 423-915-6800.

I have some weird beliefs, part of a system of needy thought and behavior. I tend to need a fair amount of reassurance from those around me, and I gather it comes across as whiny. Let's see if I can learn to reassure myself.

"I am good enough."

"Being a little bit selfish is okay."

"Believing I'm awesome doesn't mean you're not, and vice versa. We can both be awesome."

"It's okay to take pride in my skills and successes."

"It doesn't matter what people say; I already know I'm good enough."

"I don't have to be perfect."

"I don't have to be or do what people want. Being me will do."

"One person's disapproval need not shake my soul. Even if it's a woman."

But I have to say, those all ring a little hollow, where my weird beliefs feel right. We'll see if I can fix myself, here.

Thanks to Gwen, Sam, Ruth, and Todd.

Left side = truth. Right side = wishful thinking.

I'm currently in Tennessee, after a last-minute trip to Boston. In case you hadn't read it on my mom's health blog, she died on Tuesday night shortly after we'd all arrived. We didn't really see it coming--she'd been in the hospital with a fever before, she'd had infections before, but this time the combination of cancer and pneumonia overwhelmed her. None of us realized it was so dire until the last minute, and we arrived at the hospital just in time to see her. She, however, was not awake, and she probably never realized that this was the end.

Her funeral is on Tuesday. After that, I'll be back in Berkeley finishing up my dissertation.